Date: Wed, 28 Dec 2005 23:08:10 -0500
From: post modern sleaze <postmodernsleazefics@googlemail.com>
Subject: Anonymity Nowhere part 8

Anonymity Nowhere
By Dead Caffeine Junkie & Keishi


Chapter Eight

The day was bright and sunny, all oranges and browns and reds. Fall had
officially arrived. Alerio and Iki walked slowly through the streets,
neither really anxious to get where they were going. Alerio wanted to see
his sister, sure, but he knew his mother's schedule like the back of his
hand. She would be home by the time they got there, and he really had no
desire to see her.

Iki picked up on Alerio's mood and walked beside him silently, slipping his
hand into Alerio's, offering comfort but not interrupting Alerio's
thoughts. He was practically chain smoking, deep in thought himself. How
the hell was he going to get Alerio and Maria's bitch mother out of the
equation?

Alerio's mind was on a similar train of thought, circling round and round
unhelpfully in his head. He didn't want to lose Maria, but he didn't see
any way around his mother. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he
was that little bit older, that tiny slice of age that would just about
solve everything for him. He'd be out of that house, away from that
uncaring, coldhearted bitch, and Maria would be his to care for.

Iki sighed and looked over at Rio, seeing his slight frown. He flicked his
nearly dead fag away, stopped in front of Rio, holding both his hands, and
kissed him chastely, but firmly, on the mouth. "I love you." He said,
watching Alerio seriously.

"I love you," Alerio echoed, not even hesitating. He looked at the serious
face Iki was giving him, and smiled, albeit only halfheartedly. "I'm
thinking too much about it, aren't I?" He sighed and kicked at a
rock. "Maybe..." he scrunched up his face, contemplating. "Maybe a miracle
will have happened. Maybe she'll have dumped that... ugh," Alerio shivered
at the memory of Larry leering down at him, "that THING, and life will be
wonderful, like it's never been." He smiled ruefully. "Maybe I'll sprout
wings and take us far, far away," he laughed.

Iki shrugged. "You kinda have a right to over think it." He pointed out. "I
just want you to know I'm here is all..." he scowled at the mention of
Larry. "That prick! I hope he gets rabies." He growled, remembering biting
him. "And anyway, who's to say miracles don't happen? I got you haven't I?
Why shouldn't something fantastic happen to you as well."

Alerio grinned a big, fake grin that was more just baring teeth than
anything. "I'm hardly a miracle," he said, then grabbed Iki's hand and
tugged on it. "Come on, we're almost there."

When they reached the small tract house with its peeling blue paint and
rusty-hinged door, Alerio stopped at the end of the tiny driveway, taking a
breath and gathering up his strength. "I'm gonna go in and check on Maria,
okay? Just... stay here, alright?"

Iki didn't like that one bit. "Rio, I wanna come with you. I don't wanna
leave you on your own with that woman in the house and no one to watch your
back." He crossed his arms defiantly.

Alerio smiled softly. "You will have my back, alright? Anything goes on in
there that I can't handle, I'll yell for you, okay?"

Iki fretted. "You won't do that thing where you don't call me cause you
think you can handle it, but then you can't and you end up getting hurt or
killed and I have to come in and clean your blood off the carpet?"

Alerio laughed, he couldn't help it. Iki's concern for him was something
new and fresh and real, and it took a lot of getting used to. "I won't, I
promise." With that, he gave Iki's hand once last squeeze and stepped
away. "Right here, okay? You'll be here?"

Iki squeezed Alerio's hand back and paced a little. "You think I'd just pop
down the shops for a sec? You'll be lucky if I don't paint myself to the
wall with being here..."

Alerio gave one last smile, then headed up toward the steps. He paused with
his hand on the doorknob, and took a deep breath. The door was unlocked.

He steeled himself, spine straight and face grim, as if he were entering
the gassing chamber at a concentration camp instead of the house of the
only family he'd ever known his entire life. He didn't know what to expect
when he entered. Breath held, he turned the knob.  The first thing that hit
him was silence. Complete silence, eerie because he wasn't used to it. His
mother's beat-up car was in the driveway, so she had to be home, but there
was no one. Then the clinking of glass alerted him to the back bedrooms.

The house was tiny, only two bedrooms down a threadbare-carpeted hallway to
the left of the discount-furniture-filled front room. Walking down it as if
walking toward his death, Alerio glanced into his own empty room briefly
before easing the door to the only other bedroom open.

What greeted his sight was his mother, passed out on her stomach, sprawled
across her bed in a ratty pink nightgown meant to allure, but only
disgusted. Her hair was matted and wild, Alerio not even wanting to guess
from what (or who, his mind relayed wickedly). He took a second to watch
her ribcage expand and contract, a sign she was still breathing and
therefore alive, before looking around the room.

What had made the clinking noise had been an open bottle of cheap whiskey
tipping over. It apparently had been haphazardly propped against a short
glass, and rolled off to spill its contents lazily onto the stained carpet
below the bedside table. It was still draining as Alerio ran to stand the
bottle back up. The whiskey was pungent.

"Mom," he reached over, shaking her bony shoulders. Alerio had gained his
relatively small frame and dark looks mainly from his mother; or at least
he assumed he did. They looked vaguely alike and since he'd never even seen
a photograph of his father, his mother was the only basis for comparison he
had. His mother was Puerto Rican, though you'd hardly notice it anymore
because she had no accent, and appeared more Caucasian than anything. She
used to be proud of her heritage, dressing in bright colors and displaying
the Puerto Rican flag in their living room, but now she more or less acted
like she didn't care about anything anymore, including her two children.

Alerio had to admit that he was the oddball of the family. His skin was
slightly darker, more brown than tan, his hair almost pure black where his
mother and sister had more of a dark brown. His eyes were a light brown,
almost gold, striking in his dark face. He had the classic Puerto Rican
curved, pouty lips but a wider, flatter nose that appeared more African
than anything else. He assumed he got that from his father's side of the
gene pool but for all he knew, it could have come from anywhere in his
family tree. He knew none of them besides his mother and sister. They were
far displaced from any sort of family.

"Momma, wake up," Alerio said louder when she didn't respond. "Momma, mom,
come on, wake up and tell me where Maria is."

His mother, Mary, groaned and shifted in her stupor. "Allie?" she slurred
out.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me," Alerio said warily, releasing her to stand next to
the bed. "Momma, where's Maria at?"

Mary sat up groggily, rubbing at her face with the heel of one hand. She
blinked up at her son, face blank for a second as her sluggish brain worked
through the fog in her head. Her face hardened after a moment. "Where have
you been all this time, Allie?"

Alerio hesitated, twisting his hands together unconsciously. The pink
collar around his neck was suddenly too tight, and he yanked at it. "I
stayed at a friend's, Ma, like I always do." She didn't know about the
theatre, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her what he'd been doing
while he'd been away.

Mary's eyes narrowed as she took in her son. "That hooligan from last
night? The one who attacked Larry like a monkey?" Alerio just sighed, and
scratched at his head, silent. "Not going to answer me, huh? You always
were such an ungrateful child," she said, snorting.

"I'm ungrateful?" Anger washed over Alerio, real and clear, making things
come into sharp focus. Anger was the only way he knew how to deal with
things, and he used it liberally. "I'm fucking ungrateful?! You would have
let that sick pervert have his way with me last night if Iki hadn't
intervened!"

Mary pinned him with a look of pure cold fury. "I don't know what you're
talking about." Getting up on wobbly legs, she hobbled her way toward
Alerio, lurching, almost falling. She grabbed the front of his shirt to
stay upright, her dark eyes blazing into his. "Larry is a nice man, and you
and your friend should apologize to him." Her words were thick with malice.

"Where's Maria, Mom?" Alerio's voice was even, devoid of anything. "Tell me
where she is."

Mary frowned, pushing away from Alerio and making her way unsteadily out of
the room. "It doesn't matter. She's not yours to worry about anymore,
anyway."

Alerio's stomach was sick. What the fuck was she talking about? "Where is
she?!" he shouted, fists clenching as he followed his mother through the
house.

She whirled on him, her own anger unclouding her thought processes. "She's
at Mr. Riley's, and you are not to go there and see her, do you hear me? I
don't want you around her, you're a bad influence."

"What the HELL are you talking about?" Alerio's vision was going red, his
arms corded as he fought the urge to smash his fist into his mother's smug,
accusing face. "What do you mean you don't want me around her, I only LIVE
here!"

Mary's face twisted, the smile little and mean on her lips. "Not anymore
you don't. Soon you'll be eighteen, and of no use to me anymore. Might as
well get rid of unwanted baggage now, right?" She picked up his skateboard
and shoved it at his chest. "I want you out of this house. Now."

Alerio gaped, shocked. He couldn't understand what she was saying, her
words just didn't compute. "But Maria--"

"You are to stay away from Maria." Her voice was sharp. "If you so much as
talk to her again, you know what I'll do." The look in her eyes was
serious, and sinister. It made Alerio feel sick.

"You can't keep me away from her," he said loudly. "You can't FUCKING do
this to me." He was wild, insane with the thought that he might not see his
sister ever again, might not be able to protect her from his mother's
emotional and mental abuse.

"Don't you fucking raise your voice to me! I'll do whatever I want! Try to
stop me!"

Alerio's face twisted, anger hot inside his head, wanting to spill out
through his mouth, ears, nose and eyes. "I'll fight you," he said,
whispered. "I'll fight you for her."

Mary laughed, the sound bitter like bottle glass breaking. "I'd like to see
you try. Now get out." She wrenched the skateboard from Alerio's hands and
stalked over to the door, opening it. "Get out. Get out!" She chucked his
skateboard out onto the front lawn, turning around immediately, and began
chucking more of his things out. Clothes and books went flying, all of
Alerio's materialistic life thus far. Alerio followed her out, powerless to
stop her. All he could think to do was run into the yard and begin picking
up a few of the articles, piling them together, anger burning hot in his
eyes.

His mother had just opened the door to throw out a wad of Alerio's
underwear when she spotted Iki at the end of the driveway. "What the hell
you bringing that hooligan around my house again?" she yelled, voice angry
and loud. Alerio following her pointing, accusing finger to where Iki
stood. His eyes held an apology he couldn't voice at the moment.

She stalked out into the yard on wobbling, uncoordinated legs as her
nightgown wrapped around them, her arm never once lowering. "You fucking
brat! Go home to whatever sewer pit you crawled out from, and take him with
you! You're lucky I don't get Larry to press charges against you both, you
dirty, filthy boys!"

Iki was helping Alerio pick his stuff up off the ground. He rolled his eyes
when the face of evil herself appeared at the door and shook his head at
Rio's unspoken apology, which he didn't need from him. It wasn't Rio's
fault. When the woman advanced, Iki moved to stand by Rio, eyes
spitting. "Fuck you!" He scowled back. "You've got nerve calling ME a
hooligan, look who's drunk at this time of the day. And YOU'RE bloody lucky
I don't get the cops on YOU! You're not fit to fucking HAVE children."

"You little..." Alerio's mother moved to slap Iki, her hand high in the
air. Alerio grabbed her arm, however, his fingers digging in deep, enough
to hurt but not enough to bruise.

"You don't fucking touch him," he growled. He shoved her arm back down to
her side. "And he's right, Ma, we should be the ones to call the cops on
you. " He gave her one last look, and turned away. "You fucking make me
sick."

Iki cowered when the woman raised her arm, purely from reflex, but his
heart leapt with fear and love and pride when Rio stopped her by grabbing
her arm. He felt pain when Rio spoke to her... he knew that no matter how
much you hated your mother, talking to them like that still injured
something deep inside you. He went over and held Alerio's hand once again,
glaring at his lover's mother angrily. He squeezed Rio's hand a little, and
swore that if she did anything, he'd jump her.

Alerio's mother, perhaps drunk and angry, was not too gone to miss it when
Iki linked hands with her son. Her son... holding another boy's hand. The
idea of it all made her physically ill. Her lip curled, disgusted, and she
couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from their joined hands. "You..." she
faltered, "you're a..." her eyes slid up to meet Alerio's hard brown
gaze. "You're a fucking fairy?!"

"Yea, well you're an abusive fucking drunk." Iki shot back. "At least
this-" he held their hands up. "-is love. We're not going around tearing
innocent people's lives up and being too fucking selfish to even raise our
own fucking kids." Iki was incensed, not even sure that he wasn't somehow
yelling at his own mother in some way. "And yet, despite you failing to be
even a BAD mum, you had a great kid. An amazing kid, who doesn't deserve
the shit you put him through or the things you do to him."

Alerio tugged on Iki's hand, though his gaze never left his mother. "Come
on, let's get out of here," he said solemnly, a plan already forming in his
head. There was no way he was going to let his mother get away with what
she was proposing, but he'd be damned if he was going to tell her that now,
give her any warning. 'You're going down,' he silently promised, turning
and picking up as much as he could carry.

It was only Alerio tugging on his hand before turning away that made Iki
leave it at that. He was buzzing with aggressive energy, and figured in the
back of his mind that it was a good thing he hadn't been around Rio's mum
more than he had or he'd have had a heart attack by now. He helped Rio
gather his things and hefted a pile under his arm, before following close
behind, not bothering to look back.

Alerio's mother watched them from the door with a disgusted look on her
face, but let them go. Alerio looked over his shoulder when he heard the
door creak open, and saw her go back in. Glancing at Iki, he closed his
eyes and groaned. "Where the fuck am I gonna go now?"

Iki fidgeted, unable to hug Rio like he wanted to with his hands full of
stuff as they were. "You could stay with me a little longer?" he
suggested. "Not the most long-term of suggestions though... or..." he made
a face. "You could go to the care centre."

Alerio stopped, sighed, hitching his things further up into his arms,
allowing him to rub at his temples with one hand. "I could stay with
Krueger, I know he wouldn't mind. It's not like things would be changing
much." He gave Iki a trembling look, like a grieving widow trying to smile
for the birdie when all she wanted to do was cry into her pillow.

That look broke Iki's heart and he couldn't just stand there holding Rio's
things anymore. He shuffled them round awkwardly and leant his head on
Rio's shoulder, about all he could manage to do to show solidarity. "It'll
be okay." he said. "Leaving home isn't so bad. And you've got people to
help you, and me. And we'll get Maria back and everything will be okay,
you'll see. Leaving that bitch was the best thing you'll ever do, trust
me." He wished he had as much faith in his words as it sounded.

Alerio's face darkened at the sound of Maria's name. "She's not keeping
her, Iki," he said, voice shaking and strained. "Over my fucking dead body
will she keep Maria with her." He pulled away from Iki, looked at him dead
serious. "I will do whatever I fucking can to get Maria away from her."

Iki chewed on his lip, over his lip ring. "Hey, you have my full
support. Only not over YOUR dead body, but possibly over your
mum's... where is Maria anyway? Was she there?"

"She's at my Mom's old boss' place, Mr. Riley's. She's okay for right now,
but..." he paused, looking down into his armful of stuff. "I've GOT to get
her away from my mom. Should I go to the cops? What?" He looked at Iki like
his irises would hold the answers to the world in them, completely
helpless.

Iki's gaze was shuttered, half his mind turning over that very question. He
shifted the bundle in his arms. "Let's get back to mine first...." he
suggested. "We can dump this stuff and then have a look at what we're gonna
do."  -- When they arrived back at Mrs. Weatherman's, Alerio wasted no time
in dumping his stuff on the floor and falling onto Iki's still-unmade
bed. He sighed, long and deep, closing his eyes and rubbing at them
again. He was on his back, and suddenly completely drained of energy. All
of his earlier adrenaline was gone. "Who should I talk to in order to get
Maria out of that house?" he asked the ceiling.

Iki piled his armful of stuff neatly on top of Rio's pile and climbed up
onto the bed next to him, sitting down by Rio's feet, his chin in his hand
as he thought. "I've got a hotline number you can call. They're pretty good
at going in and assessing the situation. If you called them now and they
went round they'd see that your sister isn't there and that your mum's
drunk and they'd definitely get her out for good. They usually take the kid
outta the house anyway, when they're not sure about the situation, but I
don't think there's gonna be any question of leaving her there. If you
wanna call `em I can get you the phone."

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'm gonna call down at the theatre, too, see if
Krueger's in. That alright?"

"Mmkay..." Iki said, climbing off the bed and leaving to get the phone. He
came back and clambered back onto the bed, sitting in his just left
spot. "Okay, so who do you wanna call first?"

"First..." Alerio reached out, catching Iki by the neck and gently bringing
their mouths together. "I want to thank you, for damn near everything. I
wouldn't have the courage to do any of this otherwise," he said, releasing
him. "I care a bit more about Maria then I do my own damn self, so let's go
ahead and call that hotline. I want her safe," he said, staring into Iki's
eyes.

Iki wasn't expecting to be dragged forward, but trusted Rio enough to not
fight, surprised, but not unhappily so, by the kiss. With Rio staring back
at him like his eyes would grant him wishes, Iki kissed back. "Don't even
thank me." he replied. "You've done more for me. And anyway, I'm not even
doing anything, I should be doing more. But wishing I could won't help
anyone, so I'm gonna call..."

He dialed the number from memory, then handed the phone to Rio, resting his
chin in both hands again, elbows on his knees.

"Hello?" Alerio was pensive, his fingers twisting themselves, fiddling with
the phone, playing with the hem of his shirt, or Iki's hair-- anything they
could to keep themselves busy. His heart was beating too fast in his chest,
he was so nervous. As he talked to the nice lady on the other end of the
phone and explained everything, he thought to himself, 'Am I doing the
right thing? Oh God, I hope so...'

After about fifteen minutes, he finally hung up, and blew out a long breath
he'd barely realized he'd been holding. "Gonna call Krueger now..."

Iki had a vague frown on his face from hearing the stress Rio was under as
he spoke to the woman. He uncrossed his legs and lay down, hugging Rio
around the waist and laying his head in his lap. "It's okay Rio; they'll
take care of her. They'll sort out your mother and get your sister
someplace better." He kissed Rio's stomach through his shirt.

Rio bit his lip as he dialed the now-familiar number, waiting for it to
ring. "We'll see," he said softly, running his free hand along the smooth
column of Iki's throat. He'd tensed when Iki'd initially hugged him, still
getting used to unwarranted touches, but relaxed into the embrace, and even
laughed as he kissed his stomach. When someone finally picked up on the
other end, Alerio spoke quick and low.

Iki let out a huge sigh for such a small chest and tilted his head over to
let Alerio's hand run uninterrupted along his neck. Such an intimate touch
when you thought about it. Not that Iki usually thought about it, one
sure-fire way to have him hitting the bottle was over thinking things. But
this was a good thing to think about. He lay there, listening to Rio with
half an ear, and pondering what he was doing here with this boy. He was
lying in his lap, letting Rio run his hands on his throat, where before
people had only bitten and pulled and choked and squeezed (and the latter
two weren't always for autoerotic reasons) and each time then he'd felt an
instinctual flutter of fear. But it was entirely absent with Rio's touch
and he knew then that his subconscious knew as well; he loved Alerio. He
reached up and took Rio's stroking hand and just held it to his chest.

Alerio hit the 'off' button and set the phone down, looking down at Iki and
smiling at the way he held his hand to him. "I'm gonna be staying with
Krueger at his house for a while. I even promised to help with upkeep." He
leaned down and caught Iki's mouth in a slow, gentle kiss for a brief
moment. "He won't be home tonight, though, but he said I could stay at the
theatre again if I've got nowhere else to go."

"Stay with me?" Iki asked. "Mrs. Weatherman won't even know. She won't say
anything if she finds out." He kissed Rio's fingers one by one. "Please?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," Alerio admitted, cradling Iki against him as
he scooted down on the bed. He held him close for a while, silent, just
happy to run his hands over Iki's body, anywhere he could reach. His
fingers itched to take all of Iki's clothes off and run along his bare
skin, but resisted the temptation.

Iki crawled up a bit and resettled himself on Rio's chest, his hand just
resting there lightly. "You coulda asked you know." He smiled. "I wouldn't
have said no." He turned his head and looked up at Rio. "But you're too
nice to ask aren't you." He laughed a little. "God, what am I even saying?
Why do you let me keep talking??"

Alerio grinned wide. "Because you're cute? I dunno. But why don't we
just..." he bent his head, "shut up." His lips parted, and he kissed Iki
again, open-mouthed and softly, his hands running along Iki's upper arms,
rubbing through the fabric.

Iki pulled his mouth away long enough to say "Mmm, shutting up is good."
Before he rejoined his mouth with Alerio's, his previously still hand now
lazily caressing Rio's chest through his shirt. Iki wondered if it was
wrong that despite the shit happening outside these four walls, he'd never
been happier.

END. (but there is a sequel.)