Reach Out For The Sunrise Ch. 04

He had not exactly been struggling against Aldo, he didn't have the strength for that, but the tension drained out of him and he slumped back on the pillows.

"He's gone."

"Yeah, it's okay baby. You're safe," Aldo murmured, stroking Xavier's sweat damp hair. "Just try and take it easy. Doc reckons you're on the mend now."

A look of confusion passed over Xavier's features and then cleared. He turned his face away and closed his eyes, then thought of something and turned back. "He left with Dom, didn't he? He didn't leave alone? He was… upset."

"He's gone, that's all you need to worry about. He's not gonna give you any more grief." Aldo's tone carried a shadow of hostility for the first time since Xavier had woken up. "You know, I must be losing my edge. If you'd asked me, even a month ago, did I think he was capable of hurting anyone the way he did, I'd have said you were crazy. But now..." he shook his head with a flash of genuine sadness in his dark eyes. "It's probably better that he doesn't come back here."

Xav was not in any shape to argue with him, although he could not help the automatic bristle of defence, and almost as quickly the weight of defeat settling on him.

"I pushed him to do it, Aldo," he said in a quietly husky tone. "I wouldn't let it be." Although, he was not exactly forgetting that Rayne wouldn't let it be either, he still believed that if he'd done a better job of controlling his emotions Rayne would never have felt so strongly compelled to make a point. Hell, if he'd had better control of his damn mouth they probably would not have had the argument to begin with.

Thinking about Rayne made that part of him that was connected to the vampire reach out again, and once again there was that feeling of being lost; something missing. It was almost a physical pain and Xavier shuddered with it.

Aldo was not immune to that and he reached out, putting his arms around the younger man gently.

"Don't blame yourself, Xavier," he murmured into his guest's soft blond hair. "Rayne's always been good at pushing people away. He's never given a good god-damn about what other people feel, caro. Hell, I reckon he even manages to convince himself that we're the ones deserting him!" He shook his head bitterly. "You should get some rest, sweet-cheeks."

Xav did as he was told; not that he had much choice in the matter. Sleep pulled at him like the heavy weight of an anchor and he sank down willingly enough. He slept the rest of the night and most of the next day as well, but not as peacefully as he had before. His dreams were chaotic and disturbing. He tossed and turned restlessly and the few moments of lucid conversation he'd had with Aldo soon seemed like part of his dreaming.

RAYNE:

To Dominic's frustration Rayne was not exactly the most communicative travel companion. He bristled with a kind of private rage all the way to the station and vanished outside to smoke from time to time, but never when Dominic needed to light up, so the older man quickly got the picture; that his company was neither needed nor tolerated.

It was unbearable. He had known Rayne to have black moods before but never in public and never so deep that he could not be pulled back out of them. The singer's best friend, Simon, had been the one to warn him that Rayne could be this way. Simon had known him since they were boys and was the only person Rayne ever seemed to listen to. Dominic wished vehemently that he was here.

It was almost a relief when the train pulled in and they could get their luggage on board. Dom had sent a lot of his equipment on ahead when they flew back to Italy so he was only towing a medium sized Louis Vuitton suitcase and a shoulder bag. Rayne had less than that. The singer was a past master at travelling light and only had a small holdall and a black messenger bag that seemed to contain everything essential; his cigarettes and lighter, his phone and MP3 player a toothbrush and a razor and a small notepad and pen. His sunglasses lived in the loose, windblown tangle of his hair and his wallet was in the inner breast pocket of his fitted black jacket. They were booked on the sleeper from Milan, where they had to change trains and Dominic had taken care to ensure that they had bunks for the night. With hindsight, this was a relief because all the vampire had done, for over five hours, on the way from Naples to Milano Centrale, was to stare blankly out of the window. Even after it went dark and there was nothing to see, his gaze remained fixed on a point somewhere far beyond the glass.

The changeover was smooth enough and once on the sleeper, Rayne stowed his bags in an overhead locker in the tiny cabin and climbed up onto the top bunk where he curled up with his earphones in and shut out the world. For a few moments Dom just stared at the implacable line of his back, then shook his head and went down to the dining car to get a stiff whisky and dry.

~*~

Rayne heaved a long sigh once he was alone and the train was in motion. It felt as if a part of him unlocked at last and he was able to breathe and feel again. Not that being able to feel improved his mood right now but his nerves were stretched tight from keeping everything shut down. Briefly when he lowered his defences he could feel Xavier, feel his confusion and the mingled anger and disbelief that still chased around in his mind. He bit down on his lips and closed that part of his soul away again, not ready to face it yet. If he kept reaching back for the boy he would never be able to put that part of his life behind him and move on.

It was like coming off Heroin, you had to just stop. There was no slipping back for a little restorative. All or nothing! He dug his nails into the palms of his hands and closed his eyes, concentrating on the small pain there until the larger one subsided. It was like the threat of an earthquake, always present under the normal, ordered surface of things. It might lay dormant for years but, one day, it would erupt again if he let it.

How the hell had he allowed this to happen to him? The one thing he had always guarded so carefully against, and it had crept up on him like a thief and chipped away at his defences until he gave in and let himself fall through and into the sweet warmth of Xavier's arms. The boy had seemed so strong on the surface and yet when you plunged deeper he showed the cracks, the weak seams where his past had broken him and the rents had been slowly mended. And in him Rayne had found a mirror, someone who showed him his reflection - or rather a reflection of the man he would have possibly been if he had ever allowed himself to love.

Xavier could match his passions, but astoundingly the belief that he could maybe one day be loved had not been beaten out of him. And his willingness to share that love had almost destroyed his mate.

Rayne curled up tighter, trying not to think. Thinking was just too painful right now. He could not consider anything of importance. The future was a vague, grey blur on the horizon. His life was in shreds again. He had work to be getting on with and business to put in order but he could not contemplate any of that. It felt like a life that belonged to someone else.

When he left England he had barely known who he was or what he was about. Now he had no idea. When he opened the cupboard door a crack to find out what his emotions and instincts had to say on the subject, he was forced to slam it shut again. It was as if there was a small, scared child hiding in there and whenever he opened the door it wanted to be held and it cried incessantly until he put his hands over his ears actually believing that he could shut it out that way.

~*~

When Dominic came back to their sleeper cabin in the small hours of the morning, several large whiskies to the good, he was alarmed to hear a persistent whining sound coming from the darkness of the narrow chamber. He threw the light on and traced the sound to the upper bunk where Rayne was coiled in a tiny, foetal huddle, sobbing and keening ever so softly, as if he were trying to make as little noise as possible.

Dom climbed up behind him and curled around him wordlessly, holding his desperately unhappy young friend in his arms. He rocked him gently until the fit of weeping subsided.

"I want to get drunk," Rayne said huskily once he could speak again. His face was deathly pale and the only colour was in the red-rims of his eyes and nostrils where the blood vessels were roused by his outpouring of emotion. Even the livid green irises of his eyes were touched with redness.

Dominic was shocked. He had never seen Rayne so overwhelmed by grief and he had been through some dark days with the singer. Rayne had a few secrets still, but not many were hidden from Dominic Warren who had practically been a substitute parent to the little vampire for so many years.

"Is that wise?" Dom asked him solemnly. They were sitting on the lip of the lower bunk together now, Rayne having risen to wash his face and blow his nose. The vampire was hunched over with his slender forearms resting on his thighs. There was a dusting of dried blood on his hands and arms and when Dominic inspected the basin and shaving area he found traces of blood in the sink and on the single razor blade resting between the taps.

On his companion's flesh there was no trace of the most recent cuts of course. Rayne had healed them almost flawlessly. The old scars remained though, the lines and burns that he had inflicted on his arms as a teenager and a young man. They would never vanish. It worried Dominic because the vampire was capable of healing just about any self inflicted injury. It was hard to know what he was doing to himself sometimes. Lord Warren had rather hoped that the self-abuse was an episode that he had consigned to his past but it seemed that this was just wishful thinking on his part.

"You're not at your best with alcohol in your system, you know that," he reminded Rayne now.

"I'm not at my best anyway," Rayne responded atonally. "I just want to get pissed, Dom. Really, really, blindingly arseholed!"

"Can it wait until we get home?" Dominic pleaded, not keen on the idea of trying to keep him under control on a crowded train. Neither had it escaped him that in order to get so drunk, Rayne would have to find more than one feeder and get them paralytic too. He had visions of them being met at the next stop by armed police and spending the next three days in a European jail cell.

"I just wanna shut it all out," Rayne groaned and lowered his head into his hands wearily. "I made a right mess of things didn't I?"

"I still don't understand what happened?" Dominic exhaled, reaching out to lay a careful hand on his shoulder. When that was not repelled violently he began to massage the tight muscles of his companion's back and neck. "I thought the two of you were getting along like a house on fire."

"We were," Rayne said in a hollow tone, refusing to look at him. He stared at his hands blankly.

"What went wrong?" Dominic kept on stroking his neck soothingly.

A small, shrug and a wordless grimace were his only initial response. Rayne shook his head slowly.

"I should have walked away right at the start," he croaked desolately at last. "You were right. I shouldn't have kept taking from him like that, it was asking for trouble."

"But now that you've gone and broken all the rules, is it fair to abandon him this way?" Dominic persisted, still bewildered by the turn of events since they had come to Italy. "He needs you now."

"He'll break the habit," Rayne said almost dismissively. "He's got to. It's the only way out."

"You believe that?" the older man whispered sadly.

"I know that."

Rayne closed his eyes for a moment. He winced again, hurting inside. When his eyes were closed he saw Xavier, lying curled up on the bed, struggling to keep his tears in check. Although he did not know for a fact that the boy was brooding that way, he could feel the pain inside his lover whenever he looked inward. The sense of loneliness was like a hot knife in his chest.

"And what if he can't?" Dominic asked, a harder edge to his tone. "What if it's one indignity too many? What if he did something terrible? How would you feel then?"

"He's not gonna do anything like that. Xav's tougher than any of you give him credit for." Rayne looked resentfully at him. "You didn't slit your wrists when your Vampire Dreamboat topped himself, did you?"

Dominic's hand froze for a moment on the nape of his neck then moved away. For a moment the older man was utterly still; totally silent. Rayne almost wanted to take the words back. Dom had faithfully kept Rayne's secrets and in return for that confidence he had confessed his own lost love for a handsome Scots bloodsucker named Cameron Eldridge, who had been the common law husband of his late High Priestess. Cam had followed his wife to the grave, leaving poor Dominic behind to pick up the pieces. Maybe, like so many of those long since Turned, he had never really understood how much Dominic loved him and relied on him. It felt wrong to throw Cameron's ultimate snub back in Dominic's face now, but Rayne could not take the words back no matter how much he might long to.

"I'm sorry..." he breathed, seeing the sudden parallel with his own story and Xavier's, but Dom was on his feet now, gesturing towards the door.

"I want to get some sleep," the older man said atonally. "Go and get fucking drunk if that's what you really want. Frankly, darling, I don't see why I should give a damn!"

The vampire stopped by the door, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry Dominic. I'm just..."

"Stupid! That's what you fucking well are! Stupid and arrogant, and completely fucking self centred!" Dominic retaliated, turning on him with more vehemence than Rayne had ever seen in the normally placid and affable man. "When the hell are you gonna stop feeling sorry for yourself, Rayne Wylde and notice that there's a great big fucking world out there that doesn't give a good god-damn! It's there on a plate for you. It always was, but you have to be the beggar at the feast, don't you? That boy has been so fucking brave for you and all the while it's there in his eyes; he's too damned scared to show you how he feels because he knows that if he does he'll lose you. It would serve you right if he went back to Frisco and threw himself on Elian's mercy. And Elian would take him like that!"

Dominic snapped his fingers under Rayne's nose, making the young vampire step back from him involuntarily. Rayne's pale eyes narrowed angrily though.

"I'm not like Elian Iannopoulos!" he growled bitterly. "I don't believe that human beings are just fodder; toys for us to play with. I thought that you understood that, of all people!"

"Oh I understand it." Dominic pointed a quivering finger at him. "You have a soul! You suffer! And we all suffer with you!" He turned away, slumping miserably and sitting down heavily on the edge of the bunk. Rayne came back towards him but he held a hand up, palm facing the vampire, fingers outstretched in a gesture of denial. "No... leave it. Just go. Do whatever it is that you need to do to get him out of your system but don't expect me to be sympathetic, Rayne. I can't do that right now."

For a moment Rayne was silent, then he grabbed his bags and turned on his heel and the door banged shut behind him. It was the last Dominic was to see of him. Around breakfast time the train pulled into Paris Bercy but there was no trace of the vampire either in their cabin, on the train, or out on the platform. He had taken Lord Warren's advice it seemed, for he was gone like he had never existed.

XAVIER:

The doctor returned to check on Xavier and was puzzled by his condition. The fever had broken some time during the day, and yet he still seemed in the clutches of a raging delirium and, at times, wracked with pain.

Xavier lay on his side huddled in a ball, eyes closed, though he could hear the doctor talking quietly with Aldo. He failed to understand most of what they said, but he was surprised that he picked out a few words and it seemed like he could almost follow some parts of the conversation. Not that he wanted to. He wished they would just leave him alone. He was suffering just fine on his own, thanks.

He picked up on a word that was too close to its English translation for him not to guess. Narcotici… the doctor was saying to Aldo, with a lift at the end of the sentence that made it sound like a question.

"Tell him I'm not a junkie, Aldo," Xavier said flatly, his voice still sounding raw. He didn't bother turning or even opening his eyes. "I'm not going through withdrawal."

There was a pause in the conversation, and then Aldo said something in a soft, low voice. There was a little more to the exchange and then the doctor left. Xavier slipped back down into troubled sleep.

He dreamed. There was movement, countryside slipping by outside a dark window. He felt a little sick and closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the cool glass. He sighed and opened them again. In the reflection of the glass he saw a ghostly figure standing behind him and with a cold start he realised it was himself, standing in the tatters of a ripped shirt with bright scarlet rivulets of blood running down from the wounds at his throat. His face was tear streaked and heartbroken, but at the same time accusatory. He turned his head quickly away from the window to look behind him and everything was plunged into darkness.

Xavier startled awake, and bolted upright on the bed, not sure if he'd screamed aloud or only in his head. Panting hard, he was shaking like he'd seen a ghost. When the bedroom door creaked open softly it was Paddy, not Aldo, who came to him, putting strong arms around him at once.

"It's okay, baby boy. Just a nightmare," he soothed huskily. "C'mon. Lay down 'n let me hold you for a little while, huh?"

Xavier shuddered again, he could feel his own pulse leaping in his throat. As the fear faded the slow thudding of the blood in his veins felt like a dull ache, sending shards of hurt all through him. His breath hitched once and he slumped in PJ's arms, struggling not to give in to the sob that wanted out. He let the older man hold him and was even comforted a little by the hands that smoothed soothingly over his back.

"I hope he's fuckin' miserable." Xav murmured venomously, neither he nor PJ believing for a moment that he meant it.

"He deserves it, baby," Paddy murmured, kissing the back of his neck tenderly. "But you don't. What can we do to try and cheer you up, honey? Take your mind off of him?"

He wrapped Xavier in his comforting warmth, snuggling up to the blond affectionately and keeping his hands moving gently over Xav's bare skin. His caresses were careful and neutral though, not the actions of a man looking for sexual intimacy. For a man who had spent his life making highly charged sexual movies, PJ really knew how to touch a body when the intent was simply to console. And for such a big guy, his hands were remarkably gentle.

"Nothing, PJ," Xavier whispered disconsolately. "I'll be fine," he added softly. He'd picked himself up and dusted himself off from far more horrible situations. He might be hurting now, but he would sort it out eventually, he was hard enough inside to know that. Even with a broken heart and missing his lover something terrible he knew he had to get up and get his act together sooner or later. What nagged at him though was the craving.

He missed Rayne, missed his touch, missed his kisses… missed his bite. He knew something else too, he yearned for Rayne on an emotional level, but his longing for the vampire's bite was both emotional and physical. His body ached, every beat of his heart seemed to throb heavily in his veins. In some of his dreams he begged Rayne to bite him, to please make the pain go away. He had not exactly been truthful when he'd instructed Aldo to tell the doc he was not going through withdrawal. It was just a type of withdrawal he could never have explained. He kept grasping for a connection that wasn't there anymore.