It's actually quite frightening how I've developed the ability to keep one eye on my VDU and the other on my laptop. Which probably says more about my denied addiction to the Internet than anything else, but... eh. Today has been a day of vague drunkeness, hi-jinks and giggling fits. Today has also been a day of goosing pretty boys, skating, an enthusiastic conversation about boarding, and a discussion as to whether or not Orlando Bloom looks like a wizened old monkey [jury's still out on that one...], whilst eating nachos and drinking tequilia with underagers... It's now ten o'clock-ish, and in an hour and a bit, I get to go crash for a lil' while before kick-restart-return all over again.

Joy.

Except, y'know, not really...

Sequel to ["I'll Tell You Once..."], and follows on from...






The apartment was quiet.

As he stepped inside, left Daniel to close the front door after following him inside, Darren immediately looked for any sight of his lover. He knew that Ben was still awake, because the lamps were still lit and the television silently played across the open-planned area of their home – knew Ben well enough after so much time together, that if he were sleeping, the apartment would have been shrouded in darkness and the television set switched off. A small frown touched itself against the soft skin of his forehead as he tossed his set of keys down, wandered a little further into the cluttered, comfortable recesses of his home. He was no longer concerned as to whether Daniel followed after him, or stayed close by the front door.

‘Ben?’

‘Yeah – in here!’

The sound of Ben’s voice echoed slightly, informed Darren that the “here” was his apartment’s bathroom, and he froze at the realisation. He’d seen enough of bathrooms to last for a long while, had abrupt mental images of Lee’s body lying silently still upon a cold, blood-splashed floor beside an expensively enamelled bath and toilet bowl… Gulping desperately, he threw a frantic glance in Daniel’s direction, recognised the pain that he saw reflected upon his friend’s face.

‘Ben -,’ he called, a tremor clouding the sound of his voice. ‘Could you come out here? Please? It’s important, love!’

‘Just a sec…’

It took a little longer than the promised second before Ben emerged from the bathroom, clad in the crumpled clothes that he usually slept in. He looked tired, Darren immediately thought as he watched him. Tired and drawn; almost haggard with a lack of sleep that Darren could empathise with, even as his heart lurched sickeningly at the sight of his lover’s trusting face.

How could he tell him?

How, he wondered, was he supposed to tell him that…

Arrested in mid-thought, Darren’s brain stuttered to a standstill, froze even as his eyes widened in puzzled shock at the realisation that Ben hadn’t left the bathroom by himself. That a few paces behind him, head lowered and shoulders slumped, one hand protectively cradled against his chest, another man walked.

Another man…

Karl.

‘What’s so important, then?’

Darren blinked, frowned in confusion as he stared from Karl’s shadowed face back to Ben’s bemused one. He couldn’t understand why Karl should be there – why they had both been in the small bathroom. ‘Huh?’

‘What…’ Ben spoke slowly, drawled the words deliberately, even as a small smile played about the corners of his mouth. ‘… is so important, then?’

‘Uh…’ Darren couldn’t help but wonder if he were the only one in the room to notice that Ben’s smile barely touched his eyes. He felt nauseous, as though drowning in the mire of doubt and misery that cocooned his mind, kept him from demanding an answer to the only question that swirled, frantically, through his mind: what was Karl doing in his home?

There was a gentle touch against his elbow, the gesture enough to distract Darren from continuing in his attempt to speak, and he threw Daniel a fleetingly grateful glance, watched the composure settle against his face as he spoke.

‘Karl, we’ve been trying to get hold of you all night, mate.’

Directly addressed, Karl lifted his chin, brought his face into the subdued lighting that illuminated the room, and stood motionless for a moment, as though waiting. Darren froze in shock at the sight of his friend’s face, felt the nausea twist and writhe impatiently through his stomach, his jaw instinctively clenching in horror.

A long, deep scratch ran from Karl’s left temple to the corner of his mouth, cutting across his eyelid and slicing through his cheek to do so, whilst on his right temple, there lay a purpling bruise. Further scratch marks adorned his throat, and his face was pale, a sheen of pained sweat coating his brow.

His breath caught painfully at the back of his throat, Darren tore his gaze from Karl’s face, dropped it to the hand that he held cradled against his chest, frowned deeply as he saw the bandage that it bore.

His thoughts began to spiral out of control…

‘Okay -,’ Ben shifted to stand close to Karl, his stance defensive; protective even as he warily eyed Darren and Daniel. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

‘Why were you looking for me?’ Karl asked, his voice little more than a murmur as his eyes darted between their faces. He frowned. ‘Guys?’

‘First -,’ Darren couldn’t prevent the harsh tone to his voice, despite the rapid glare that its sound drew from Ben. A nagging sensation that he didn’t like was building slickly inside his gut… implicating thoughts and opinions before they’d fully formed inside his conscious mind. All that he could think of, was the broken fall of Lee’s body – whilst confronted with the sight of Karl’s injuries directly before him. He scowled, not knowing what to think, unable to prevent himself from wondering if the two were somehow connected.

If Karl already knew what had happened to his ex-boyfriend.

‘Why don’t you tell us what the fuck happened to you?’

‘He got into a fight.’ Ben snapped before Karl had a chance to answer Darren’s question. Uncertainty shaded his eyes as he looked away from Darren, towards Daniel, then back again. ‘He was in a bar, and some fuckwit launched himself at him, and -,’

‘Karl?’ Daniel cut in evenly, forestalled Ben’s ramble of an explanation. ‘You might want to sit down mate. You, too, Ben.’

Watching Ben’s face closely, Darren saw the way in which his eyes opened wide before his expression shivered into something akin to comprehension. It was, he thought as he looked at the familiar features blurred with a strangeness that he didn’t wish to consider for too long, as though something had suddenly clicked into place within Ben’s mind, caused his brow to furrow in immediate confusion as he realised what… who was missing.

‘Darren -,’ The look in Ben’s eyes was imploring as he turned his head to meet his stare. ‘Where’s Lee? Shouldn’t he be here, too?’

Sighing deeply, Darren ran his fingers through tousled hair. It was a reasonable question, he knew – he, Daniel and Lee had gone out together, intending to have a simple night of friendship, drinking, and bickering about pool scores – but he didn’t know what to say, or even how to say it; knew only that a voice had to be placed alongside the terrible events of their evening so far.

‘Just sit down, ‘eh, love?’ he spoke softly, walked forwards to usher Ben and Karl towards the couch until they were left no other choice but to lower themselves hesitantly onto its deep cushions.

Huddled beside the silent, wounded Karl, Ben blinked up at him. ‘Darren?’

‘Dan’ll explain.’ He promised, turned hopefully towards Daniel. He knew that he couldn’t tell them; understood on an instinctive level that Daniel was far better at dealing with situations of crisis than he ever would be, and as he met his friend’s eyes, caught the pain and confusion that mirrored his own, he shook his head. ‘I can’t, Dan…’ he murmured. ‘I just… can’t.’

Nodding his head, Daniel moved reluctantly to perch on the edge of the coffee table, directly in front of where Ben and Karl sat, both silent and anxious as they watched him. For a long moment, he eyed them both steadily, then took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’m not really sure how to say this to you both -,’ he admitted softly. ‘But I know that someone has to tell you what’s happened. And I also know that Darren and I both thought that you’d rather hear it from us – from one of us – than from anyone else. Because we’re all friends.’

‘Hear what?’ Ben asked.

His voice radiated enough fear to cause the observing Darren to wince in sympathetic understanding. He knew that Ben was frightened of whatever Daniel’s answer might be, and his swallowed thickly, forced himself to draw breath over the painful lump of emotion at the back of his throat.

‘Where’s Lee, Dan?’

‘Ben, we -,’ Daniel hesitated, glanced quickly at Darren before he continued. ‘There was an argument.’ He said, kept his voice gentle and modulated it so that it were devoid of his own pain. ‘Lee went off. We thought… we thought that he was sulking – that he’d come back when he was done. But he didn’t. And so, Darren and I went looking for him. Back to his hotel…’

Darren’s legs felt as though they were about to buckle, give way beneath him as he relived the events of the evening inside his mind, keeping time with Daniel’s monologue. He sank down onto the edge of his armchair, kept his eyes fixed upon the bewildered expressions that distorted the faces of their audience, wondered absently at the way in which his attention was partially captivated by the injuries to Karl’s face.

‘The door to Lee’s room wasn’t locked.’ Daniel continued, ‘and the place had been ransacked –,’

‘Who -?’ Ben started, his face furrowed as he leant closer against Karl’s side.

Daniel shook his head. ‘We don’t know who by. All we know is that Lee had locked himself into the bathroom, and we couldn’t get him to open the door. By the time we got in there, it was too late.’

Tears leapt from Daniel’s eyes, streamed helplessly down his face, halted his explanation of what had happened, destroyed the image in Darren’s mind that he could cope with the terrible situation that they had found themselves in. He watched, silently, as Daniel covered his face with his hands, pressed them tightly against his cheekbones as he strove to hide his sorrow from them all.

‘I’m sorry -,’ his mumble was almost incoherent, yet Darren understood; thought that the others did, too. ‘I’m so sorry, Karl…’

‘Darren?’ Ben twisted towards him, his eyes beseeching. ‘What does Dan mean by “too late”? What’s happened? Where’s Lee?’

There was the soft sound of someone clearing their throat, and Darren glanced towards Karl, saw that he was staring fixedly at the floor beneath his feet.

‘Is Lee alright?’ he asked, a tremor shadowing his words.

‘No.’ Darren was startled by the choked sound of his own voice, sniffed back his tears, sought to control his emotion. ‘No, he’s not.’

He watched as Karl closed his eyes, bowed his head, leant forwards until he was hunched over his knees and his forehead rested against their curve, listened as a soft keening sound drifted from Karl’s mouth, noticed the instinctive way in which Karl rocked, realised immediately that he understood what it was that they were trying to say.

‘What d’you mean?’ Ben whispered, and Darren looked quickly back; recognised the blankness of confusion to his face. ‘Is he… hurt? Or… what?’

‘Ben -,’

Darren knew that he had to choose his words with infinite care, and forced himself to move closer. He knelt in front of his lover, placed both hands upon the bony ridge of his knees, looked up into confused, tired, frightened eyes.

‘Ben -,’ he said again, kept his lips parted to continue; to speak the words that he’d never imagined he’d ever have to speak… but couldn’t bring himself to do so. The words remained stuck in his throat, were lodged there firmly enough to make him tremble with grief, and he gulped, fought against tears, struggled against the near overwhelming urge that he had to be physically sick.

‘He’s…’ Karl’s voice trembled, shook with the tears that continued to pour from his devastated eyes, but he’d managed to collect himself enough to lift his head, turn towards them.

At the sound of Karl’s voice, Darren tore his gaze from Ben’s bewildered face, looked round to realise that his former drummer’s undamaged hand rested upon Daniel’s shoulder, moved soothingly in circles in an attempt to placate his sobbing friend. He watched mesmerised almost, as Karl swallowed thickly, sniffed back his own tears as he did so as Karl steadily held his gaze.

‘He’s dead.’ Karl said flatly. ‘Isn’t he?’