Blindly Reflecting Part One

Summary: Alec is in college and his brother is just a vague memory he's tried to forget. When Dustin reenters his life, it's with a man Alec always dreamed of meeting. He has to take a good hard look at the past, his father and his upcoming career in law enforcement. Where has Dusty been for three years...?

Warnings: Angst, physical and mental abuse



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~*~*~Chapter One~*~*~

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I don't know how old my brother is.

Saying it that way, realizing the fact seems unusual, doesn't it. But I honestly have no idea, there was never a birthday mentioned, never a card or a cake the whole of his growing up.

Who knows how old a dish is, or a sofa or a lamp? You have to understand, I grew up with him in the background...not the background of my life, just the backdrop of the house we lived in, my father and I. It seemed normal to me. He was a fixture.

I've told people that I have no brothers or sisters, not lying...just...he didn't count as one. I think I was even a little embarrassed. I didn't know any other kids with blind, retarded siblings who spent their days talking to themselves in their rooms.

My mother died at his birth and he nearly did, too. I remember more about him from back then than I did the ten or so years after. Mainly, I think, because my father hired someone to care for him when he arrived home from the hospital. Her name was Amy. She lived with us for almost three years and she took care of me too, I needed it back then, losing Mom had hit me hard. I wasn't very old, four or five I think and didn't understand how something that was supposed to have been such a great event in our lives had turned out so horrible.

My father went from an energetic, loving parent to one who came home from work and poured a drink before even taking his coat off. Not that he was a drunk, mind you, he was...suffering. He didn't laugh or smile much anymore. He would sometimes hold me, let me sit close and he listened to me, but he didn't play anymore, didn't tease me or tickle me and God, how I missed it.

The home I was used to was gone. We had a big, beautiful home in a neighborhood of big, beautiful homes, but it wasn't beautiful to me anymore. It was now a dark, quiet and depressing version of the place I used to know. I rarely invited friends, I went to their houses whenever possible.

My father's friends stopped coming. Everyone stopped coming, even my grandparents.

After all, they were her parents, not his.

His, my other grandparents, lived out east somewhere, about as far from Oregon as one could get and they sent me cards on my birthday, but I had never seen them. At least I don't remember seeing them, my father said I did when I was first born. They were at Mom's funeral, but I was in too much shock during that time, there was just too much I didn't understand for me to pay much attention to people I didn't know.

I wasn't even in school yet, what did people expect? There were so many touching me, telling me my mother was in heaven, it was all very confusing. It seemed they all thought I knew where this heaven was. I didn't. I wanted to know more about it, how far away was it, when would she come back...but all the crying and the sympathy was overwhelming in a terrifying way. I was scared to ask.

Dusty, though. That's what his name was. Although it was rarely used in later years. If my father or I spoke to him it was 'Hey, the toast is too well done' and he knew we meant him. So, really, 'Hey' sort of became his name.

He was blind, my father said, from the injury he got being born. Cerebral palsy. He couldn't learn normally, he also said, was little more than a vegetable and we should, by all rights, put him away somewhere.

That sentence scared the hell out of me, put away somewhere.

Right up there with put down or put to sleep.

Sentences that meant something more sinister than they sounded. So, my father was a saint in my eyes. He kept Dusty, taught him things and I thought the little creature was lucky not have a father who would put him away somewhere, despite how much he may have deserved it.

His coming had signaled the beginning of unhappiness, no wonder his birthday wasn't a cause for celebration. It was my mother's deathday, we didn't need him to be a reminder. As it was, his presence was little more than an annoyance, so when Amy moved out Dusty started to fade away from my mind as well.

Everything was his fault, my father made that subtly, but unmistakeably clear. Yet, I knew it wasn't as if he'd done it on purpose. I didn't like him or dislike him. As a fixture, I guess he was okay.

You see, he whined all the time at first, with Amy gone. He stayed locked in his room, it wasn't safe for him to wander, sightless, around the house. My father explained it to me, why he had to slap him so much, so he didn't get himself killed, or worse, all of us by lighting the house on fire or something.

I understood. My father had never slapped me. He wasn't mean, he was just concerned. It was necessary, he explained, like a puppy with a rolled up newspaper, the only thing that got through to him.

I barely noticed my father training him, but he said it was to give his simple mind something to do.

So, Dusty learned to make coffee and then to make toast, and then to cook actual meals eventually. I wondered how anyone could do that blind, but my father said he could distinguish light and dark, watching him though, I suspected he saw more than that.

Dusty cleaned up after us, wordlessly. He did laundry. In accordance with his training, he never spoke.

On occasion, passing his room, I heard him talking to himself, but around us, never. He even walked silently. He had learned my father's lessons on being quiet very well. He didn't eat with us, he ate at the counter standing up in case we needed anything. He didn't watch TV with us for obvious reasons. When he had nothing to do, he was banned to his room. I think he slept a lot.

Then, all those years later, I noticed him.

Because something was terribly wrong with him.

And he spoke to me. Dusty spoke to me, startling me.

It brought back a memory of...of...

I had put it out of my mind, I had been, maybe ten if even that at the time.

It had been late at night, way past my bedtime, but my stomach was sick and I had gotten up and headed for the bathroom, stopped outside the door by the sounds within. Odd noises they were, Dusty was crying, choking and I thought maybe he was sick, too. My father was with him. I could hear him, he was making grunting sounds that reminded me of a tennis match on fast forward.

I didn't have time to wonder, I clamped a hand to my mouth and twisted the knob to get in. It was locked...why would it be locked?

I heard my father's strangely strangled voice, telling me to wait a minute. I didn't have a minute. My stomach lurched and emptied itself right there outside the door, and then it opened.

Dusty was sitting on the floor, his eyes wide and blacker than I'd ever seen them and he was shaking all over with tears running down his face. He was gasping, his face was red and so was my fathers.

I stood there, puzzled, then my father hit me, square across the face, stinging my eyes. He'd never struck me before, I was too stunned to cry. He grabbed Dusty's arm and pulled him up so roughly I thought his arm would break, then he stormed out, dragging Dusty with him.

"That's what you get," my father growled at my astonished expression. "For listening at doors, now go to bed."

He didn't care that I was sick, he made no acknowledgment of the mess I'd made, it was all very strange. I heard him hit Dusty, heard the sharp little whimpering cry of his but I was so scared that I just hurriedly cleaned up everything and went back to bed.

The next morning my father apologized without any explanation. All he said was that maybe it would be best if he sent Dusty away.

I asked no questions. With time and with everything seemingly back to normal, the incident lost its importance, as in I lost my fear of it. Dusty stayed, I guess my father's heart softened. I was glad for that much.

Dusty faded into the background again, and the only other change had been more recent.

I was by then a senior in high school, I had things on my mind besides family. Even my father had faded from importance in my life, I didn't question the change, the fact that he went out at night sometimes and often for most of the weekend, taking Dusty with him. What did it matter to me? I took care of myself.

I mean, my father never even came to see me play. I had made varsity that year, varsity, damn it, not bad for a kid five foot seven who was an aberrant ball hog. I could leap, that's how I made it, I could jump like you wouldn't believe. And I was quick. Okay, so my father isn't interested in basketball, fine. It's not like I was good enough for a sports scholarship or anything, but I was his only child. Or the closest thing to it.

What did he know about me? Nothing. He didn't know the names of my friends. Well, friend. Jason Halbrook. He didn't know how many girls I've dated. None. How many boys I wanted to date. Two. He didn't know the subjects I was good at. Algebra and English. Or the ones I sucked at. Geometry and Chemistry. He didn't know the college I'd applied to. Everest. Or even what I wanted to study. Criminal Investigation.

Most fathers know that stuff. Maybe not about dating boys. But the rest of it. When I'd informed him I wanted to go to college, he'd simply smiled and said fine and told me to let him know when to bring out the checkbook.

Life went on as usual. Except Dad now left me alone a lot. I never saw him talk to my brother. He just took him with him all the time, which I suppose I should have felt was strange, but I just thought he didn't want a blind kid alone so much.

Maybe he was dating, I didn't know and I didn't really care. I could play the same game he did. Dad became my obliging roommate who conveniently paid the bills.

There was a difference, a slight one. I noticed it, without attaching much significance. Dusty had become a nervous wreck and the injuries I was so used to, the bruises on his face seemed to have gotten worse. Long ago, my father had explained he looked that way, banged up that way because he ran into things all the time. It had made sense to me despite the fact I had never actually seen him bump into anything.

Then, the real shock, one morning Dusty spoke to me.

I looked at him, into his brown eyes that I couldn't tell were blind, and they gazed back, directly on mine.

"Alec?" Dusty had said very softly, churning up those memories, bringing a sort of anxiety. "Please, don't send me away."

I wondered how to respond to him. How much did he even understand? He had sounded so normal I was taken aback.

"I won't," I said, lamely.

Dusty nodded and took a long deep breath, whispered thanks, then he didn't say anything else.

But the next weekend, my brother was gone.

My father told me he had left to live with others like him in some sort of group home and that he would be happy.

I asked where. He said Utah. The conversation ended. I hoped he was happy. I couldn't say I'd really miss him.

It's now three years later, and I think back on all this because I just met Dustin again.

Not to mention the tall, incredibly handsome god whose arm my brother's hands were locked around.

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~*~*~Chapter Two~*~*~

I wonder.


I don't think I was supposed to meet this man. I got that impression the second I walked into the house.

My father was standing there in controlled discomfort, shifting from foot to foot. I knew him, you see.

He gave very little indication that my unexpected appearance might not have been on the agenda. The fact was, I never came home on Friday nights, I spent them with Kevon, only Kevon had decided this week to move on to bigger and better things than me. I was by no means heartbroken, for it had been mutual. I hated to lose a perfectly good filler romp, but that's all I was losing. It was simply he found another filler faster than I did. No hard feelings.

So I stood there and my father stumbled over introductions.

"Seb, I'd like you meet my son, Alec. Alec, this is Sebastian Walter."

The tall deity reached out a hand and flashed a very expensive smile. He had exceptionally shiny blond hair swept back with just a few strands left across his forehead and steel blue eyes that took me in. His hand was strong gripping mine.

"Ah. A pleasure, Alec. Your father never mentioned there was another one," Seb said in a resonating voice. No, it didn't really resonate, but it was...commanding. I liked it. I decided on the spot that he could command me anytime.

Wait. What did he say? Another one?

I admit I bristled slightly. Being lumped together with Dusty was not something I was used to. It seemed...insulting. I took a better look at my brother, he was as expressionless as I remembered him. Blinking, as if holding back tears, but I'd seen the look a thousand times and it just meant he was confused.

Dusty had grown in three years. He was my height, maybe even had an inch on me, but tall doesn't run in the family. He had filled out to the degree that he no longer appeared thin, slender would describe him and despite his growth he still had the look he'd always had, a fragility that I assumed came with his condition and lack of any real exercise.

His clothes however, they fit him perfectly, obviously tailored and preppy, hard not to roll my eyes at. Preppy? Who did he think he was fooling? The unruly thick dark hair was now styled enough to look...sort of, kind of pretty in an androgynous way and he had a couple piercings in one ear. Actually, he looked rather good, only, well, he was still Dusty. Those same large wounded-fawn eyes were trained on me, but the creepy part was I didn't know if they saw me.

I realized I was still grasping Seb's hand. I released it.

"Nice to meet you," I understated.

Why was my brother holding onto his arm when they were standing still?

"Dusty...I'm glad to see you," I said to him, just to be polite and just like the last thing I'd said to him, lamely.

A short uncomfortable silence followed, and then I saw Sebastian put his hand over Dusty's smaller one and squeeze it. Tightly. Dusty looked up at him, swallowed hard then turned back to me.

"Sure. Me too, Alec," Dusty's voice was no longer a child's but it was still subdued. And he could still talk. It hadn't been a figment of my imagination three years ago.

My father was fidgeting even more and he spoke up.

"I think we should make other plans for tonight, Seb. Alec will want to sleep."

"What, am I interrupting something?" I asked. "I won't be in the way, and I can sleep through anything."

I have my dignity. I wasn't wanted, how much plainer could it be?

I gave Seb an all knowing smile, you know, just to ante up and then I excused myself and headed for the kitchen to find a snack. I almost asked Dusty to make me something. Almost, but I caught myself. I had never laughed at his expense, had I? Anyway, he had a -wow, I want one- boyfriend now. I think. How had he managed that?

I was sitting on the stool at the counter with a sloppy looking roast beef and bread and everything else I could find monstrosity clenched in both hands when my father came in and brought out a bottle of Chivas Regal. Two glasses.

Only two.

He looked at me.

"I didn't say anything," I said.

"Alec, you remember how it was. I did the best thing for everyone."

I nodded like I had the slightest idea what he was talking about. He peaked my curiosity, though. I finished most of the sandwich, grabbed a bottle of Samuel Adams and headed back for the living room.

I plopped down on a chair, they were sitting now also, only my brother was on the floor. That's not unusual, I sit on the floor myself a lot when I want to sprawl, but it almost seemed...degrading under the circumstances. Disturbing. Since when did I think about Dusty being treated improperly? Still, I mean, couldn't he learn to sit on a sofa without falling off?

"So. Mr. Walter. How long have you known Dusty?" I asked.

For the record, I was coming along nicely in college, I absolutely loved it. I had decided to specialize in criminal investigation and profiling. I was getting a beyond high school proficiency with computers and working on a BA in psychology with one more year to go. Like a new med student who imagines they have all the symptoms of all the diseases they study, I thought everyone was a criminal.

Maybe, everyone is. I chuckled inwardly.

"He's been with me for going on three years," Seb said languidly.

I don't know my brother's age, I think I mentioned that. But I was good at algebra, I could find the equivalent of x. Three years ago Dusty would've been...thirteen? Fourteen? Close enough.

So, this magnificent man who had at least a few years on me was not Dusty's boyfriend, logically, he couldn't be. I sat up straighter, even knowing the chances were slight he was even attracted to guys.

"Are you a special, uhh...I mean a teacher?"

"I'm his employer, Alec, don't be so shy. I take it your father never told you," Seb said with a smile. Obviously not concerned with any crap he might start with my father and me. I liked him even more.

Dusty, who had inexplicably faded from my sight even directly in front of me, spoke then and I saw with dismay that he was shaking.

"Don't pretend you care Alec," he whispered harshly and I saw something I'd never seen before. Dusty was mad, that was strange enough but then the trembling got worse and he broke down completely right before our eyes.

~*~*~

I'm not supposed to get mad. I know that. Why do I do things I'm forbidden to?

I know why. My brain doesn't work right. So, sometimes, I don't care what anyone says. I said that to Alec, told him to stop pretending to care, but it didn't feel good to say, it just made me tired...

I turned my face away just slightly, just enough so that when Sebby hit me, he didn't poke a finger in my eye. He didn't hit me right away and then I remembered.

Alec. People didn't hit me much in front of Alec. I wish I knew why. I looked at him, I have always watched him and he never seemed to notice or at least not to mind.

Alec never once hit me. He never even yelled at me.

A long time ago I thought it meant he liked me. I liked him, too. I loved him. I loved him more than life itself. It hurt to look at him sometimes and wish he'd still play with me, talk to me, touch me...anything.

I have really old memories of that actually happening I try to get clearer, but with my brain, I never could. Just...imagines of a before time when I wasn't alone.

Maybe I'd remember more if I could see better. I try to imagine that, too. What wonderful things other people can see that I can't because my eyes are blind. Colors. The word colors is something I think about all the time. Not as much now as I used to, I'm not alone as much anymore. And Sebby told me not to talk out loud when I'm alone. Even my father never minded that, but he was not as strict as Sebby. I didn't have to be so careful of every move I made and I miss those days.

I felt part of something back then. Days were peaceful if I did what I was supposed to do. I tried, really hard. There were times I tried so hard I actually got my hopes up. I folded clothes so perfectly and put them in such perfect rows in the dressers I was sure Alec would notice. I waited sometimes for him to say something, but he never did. I put food on plates...spaced apart exactly, perfect as I could, and hoped that he would notice how much I loved him, to go to all that trouble. But I was always disappointed.

I never cried in front of him, but nights after these attempts to show I could love, I cried almost all night long. Silently, as it had to be.

I watched TV sometimes back then, pretending I was really with him and my father. I snuck down a stair and stayed in the shadows and watched through the railing. I'd have been beaten if my father knew, it was one of the only chances I ever took because it was worth it and as it turned out, he never caught me. I was with them, then, one with them for a time and I didn't feel so lonely. Not to mention, it was interesting, the TV. I couldn't hear what they were saying half of the time but the images on the screen were fascinating anyway.

I wish it hadn't changed. It was all my fault, as usual. If only I had never come out of my room that day until Alec got home from school. Then, maybe, none of the rest would have even happened, if I had just stayed away from my father the day he stayed home from work. The day he was crying and he had that smell like the bottle on the table and his crying was so sad...

I shouldn't have gone closer, but my brain...like I said before...I hate how it works, how it told me to go to him as if somehow I could take any sadness away.

How could I forget that I only caused sadness?

My father cried more of course when he saw me and yelled at me, about how I had ruined everything. I already knew that, but once again I told him I was sorry for being born. If I knew a way to undo it, I would have, but there was no way. So, he grabbed me then and screamed that I would pay for what I'd done.

That didn't sound unfair but his screaming was scary and what he did then was...well, at the time, unbelievable. I had never even had a nightmare that bad, scarier ones, yes. But none where I was actually dying. Because that's what I thought as I was choking on part of him. He was trying to kill me in some fitting way and every single time he did that to me afterwards, I thought of it as an attempt to take my life. I didn't fight him, but I couldn't help crying, that's just how frightening it was.

I also felt bad for him every time that I managed to live, despite all his efforts to choke me.

I know better now. Way better. I learned the lesson when I began meeting other fathers and then Sebby.

He sold me to Sebby for good one day. He told me Alec wanted me sold and sent away. I don't know what I did for him to hate me so much. I asked him not to make me leave, but he just lied to me and sent me anyway.

I still loved Alec. I've held onto that love all this time. I've never loved anyone else. Maybe that's why I'm angry.

I wish Alec would talk to me, I don't want to be mad at him. I'm not allowed to speak to him, I'm sure of it, why would he be different from anyone else. My father told me to leave him alone so long ago.

This was all making me think about things I tried not to and I could feel my whole body shaking in an attempt to keep from crying. So I spoke to him and I was so tired and tears came.

I couldn't do it. I knew how badly I was going to be punished, but I lost control and couldn't stop and the sobs were horrible and threatening to shake me apart and I would die from them and my father would be happy.

But then Alec was on the floor beside me and his arms were around me and they were gentle and how could that be possible?

~*~*~

What the hell happened?

I had never seen anyone cry the way Dusty was, it felt like my heart was torn out of my chest, he was so grief-stricken, yet neither my father nor the man whose feet my brother was weeping on moved.

I went to him and sank down beside him, I took him in my arms to comfort him, whispering, 'shhhh' and his eyes opened on mine and I know he saw me, don't ask how I know, but I've never been this close to him before. I could just tell. His arms went around my neck, slowly as his body calmed from the spasms.

"Dusty...what is it? Dusty, you're my brother...I do care," I told him gently.

His head rested down on my shoulder. I would swear he was exhausted and maybe it didn't take much.

"Alec. I'm sorry," he whispered.

I rubbed his back and had him half way calm when Seb took his arm and lifted him enough to pull up on the sofa with him in one quick move. Dusty fell sideways and cringed there.

I was fuming. "Hey!...do you have to be-"

"Alec!" my father cut in sharply. "I need to speak with you, now, in the kitchen."

I glared, but got up angrily and followed my father from the room.

"Alec, what the hell? You know Dusty can't get excited like that! He could hurt himself, or one of us," Dad said with exasperation.

"Hurt one of us? Come back to earth. He was already hurting himself, before I even touched him, Dad, what's going on anyway?"

"Your brother has a job, a home and decent clothes. For someone like him that's much more than we could've hoped for, isn't it? Don't ruin it, son."

I relaxed a little and let my breath out.

"Yeah. I guess. I don't like the way that guy treats him."

"Sebastian is rich, he's used to seeing valets and personal assistants treated that way. It isn't rude, it's what he's paying your brother for."

"Dusty's a valet?" The thought struck me funny. Okay, so I was out of line. The guy must really have a heart of gold, to hire my brother, to have to remind him of things constantly and talk him through everything. It would definitely get on my nerves and I don't think I'd even have the guts to take him out in public.

I sighed. "I'm tired. I've had enough of this day, I'm going to bed and hopefully you won't have any more problems, my fault or not."

"It isn't your fault, don't ever think that, Alec."

I smiled. "Thanks, 'nite," I said.

I went back past Seb and Dusty and said good night to them, too. Sebastian smiled and said goodnight, Dusty didn't, just those huge eyes again on me, he was unfathomable. I shrugged and headed for the stairs and a long, hot shower.

When I was loading the CD player to go to sleep to, I heard the car drive away.

I wondered if I'd ever see Sebastian again, and then decided, well, why not?

~*~*~

Alec held onto me and I really think he was trying to help me. I can't even tell you how it felt, and then he whispered to me and I wanted to stay like this, forever, in his arms where it was safe. I tried to think of what to say except that I was sorry. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and ask why he'd sent me away. I wanted to ask him to let me stay with him.

Sebby had his hands on me before I could say more and he dragged me back beside him. I knew how much trouble I was in. Maybe, Alec would do something, save me somehow.

My heart sank when I watched Alec leave with my father. He looked mad, they both looked mad and I wondered if Alec was going to be yelled at. What would I do if my father actually hit him, I should try to stop him, but how?

Then Sebby pushed me down and leaned on me hard, digging an elbow into my ribs and told me to not say one more word the rest of the time we were here.

My father came back and Alec left without a word and I knew I had done the right thing not saying anything more. Alec wouldn't save me, he never had. Sebby seemed furious anyway, he said it was my fault the night was ruined and that we were leaving.

"Alec will be glad," I heard my father say but I didn't look at him. "He says you have a heart of gold to put up with Dusty."

I shivered. I looked at my hands and clenched them on each other tightly then closed my eyes and fought myself. I wouldn't cry again.

I didn't cry, either.

Not when we left and my father said he was sorry about me because I was so pitiful and I knew how true that was. I didn't cry in the car on the way home when Sebby turned and back handed me in the face before I had a chance to protect my eyes, and not even when he laughed at catching me with my guards down.

I didn't cry in our bedroom when he picked up a belt and told me to undress. Not one single tear came out, I held every one of them in. I just obeyed him and waited for the punishment. It had been worth it. I wish I knew a way to see Alec again, but if I didn't I would always remember his words in my ear. They were so kind. I always knew he was kind.

Sebby didn't use the belt, I could hear him walking around and after a few minutes I looked up again, wondering why. Sebby had rope in his hands, the rope I hadn't seen in a very long time and I had almost forgotten about.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

"A whipping isn't enough, I decided. Disobeying around other people, Dusty. You must learn not to, it simply can't be allowed," Sebby said.

I won't, I won't...ever, ever, ever, ever...

How could I not cry now with what I knew was coming. Even though by doing so I took any chances away that he might have changed his mind. Crying was almost as bad as talking was, but it was alot harder to stop. I know I had disobeyed, but my brain does these things...I hate it.

My father had told me so many times how feeble it was, that it came from killing my mother, along with the blindness. My worthless brain got me into this and I wished harder than I'd ever wished for anything, just to die, not to have to live like this anymore.

Sebby pushed me onto my back and lay down on top of me, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing me. I stayed very quiet and that wasn't easy with the way I was breathing from crying and his weight and his mouth over mine, but I remained still. I thought maybe there was a chance he would change his mind again.

"Dusty, now you remember who's taken care of you since your family didn't want you anymore. I don't think it's fair you treat me the way you do."

I tried to speak but he shook his head and got up slowly, the rope in his hands again.

"Shhh. Just think about what I said. Now, not a word or I'll have to add an extra day."

I didn't fight him, but he slapped me for shaking so hard, I wished it would stop but it only got worse. I begged in silence as he bound my hands behind me and my ankles together. He stuffed the cotton in my ears, the rag in my mouth and then the blindfold went on, holding the rest in place, I felt it wrap around my head many times and I began to feel the horrible panic of the blindness.

What if I could never see again, all the way? Just the black, forever and my brain was screaming, screaming...as he shoved me in the closet and I knew he shut the door.

No- please. No, no, no...

I dug fingernails into whatever parts of my hands and back I could reach just to feel something, just to know I was real and wasn't falling in the blackness but over time all fear and all pain and all reason were forgotton.

Just the void remained...and the falling, endless, empty falling...

~*~*~

Going into my father's desk in the morning and finding Seb's address without asking him was slimy, I know.

He and I had never crossed each other that way, had never intruded on the other's territories. He was not a snooping parent and I was not a sneaky son. Until now.

I did it because some instinct told me not to let my father know I wanted to see Seb again. He had kept his own secrets about the man and I still wasn't sure why.

At around noon I drove over there, he lived right here in Portland, and I sauntered up to his door. It was actually quite a place he had in some respects. It's isolation and the view it had were spectacular as was the landscape design. But, he was rich, right?

I expected a servant of some kind to answer the chimes, but Sebastian answered and seemed pleased to see me. He was slightly mussed, which I found worked well for him.

Open mouth, and say the first thing that pops into your head.

I would like to apply for a position, top or bottom, either will do...

Go for the second thing, then.

"Hello, Mr...I mean Sebastian. I hope you don't mind the drop in too much. I won't stay but I was curious where my brother lived. What a place! Maybe I should be a valet."

"A tempting offer," Seb grinned and I caught just enough of a tone to his voice to urge me on.

"Since the, ah...position's filled, maybe you'd like some company? We poor college students don't get out much."

"Then may I invite you out for a dinner and a drink tonight?" he asked, topping my wildest expectations.

"Yes, you certainly may. So, I see Dusty's not on your arm today."

Seb looked to his left. "I'm checking. Nope. Not at the moment. He's not needed much this time of day, I suspect he's either napping or in the library. Should I tell him you came and threw yourself at me?"

"Huh? What?!" I smiled, knowing he had the facts straight, who was I to argue facts?

"I'll pick you up at eight. Casual, but flattering is always nice."

I wanted to see my brother, but obviously I had caught Seb in the middle of something, he was basically throwing me out, politely.

"Okay. See you at eight, then."

I would hopefully see Dusty. Late. Possibly drunk and crawling all over his boss. I had gone a whole week without sex. It wasn't a record or anything, but it made the night to come, in my mind, preordained.

Have I mentioned, I'm wrong alot?

~*~*~

The date?

Not as great as I thought it would be. Not even close.

Majorly disappointed when Seb told me he wasn't gay. What the fuck? I'm not usually that wrong.

He was good company and all and he explained the reason he had invited me. I guess I should be grateful he didn't break me in two pieces for flirting with him, some guys would. Especially guys that much bigger than me.

He was so okay with it, it seemed unnatural, but I don't tempt fate any more than necessary. And I don't question gifts.

He wanted me to get to know him so I could stop with the worrying. He wanted me to feel better about him and my brother. I explained to him about Dusty's sheltered childhood and how little I actually knew him.

My brother, despite first impressions, was in good hands he assured me and he invited me back to his place the following weekend, said the three of us could hike around or something, maybe shoot hoops or play tennis if the weather cooperated.

I took him up on it. Being as okay as he was, maybe I thought I still had a chance. I don't know. I did know I would feel better seeing Dusty one more time. There were things I wanted to tell him. Well, one thing anyway.

Or maybe I just hoped it would be warm and Seb would take his shirt off. I had the feeling I could drool on the guy and he'd take it in stride.

I was home early, damn it, undrunk with no one to crawl on and last night's good nights sleep under my belt.

May as well study. It was either that or think about Seb, so I dragged out the books.

~*~*~

I was wrapped in loneliness and falling.

I had been like this forever, when I felt the hands from far away and then I was lying on softness. I was freezing and shivering and felt the ropes being taken off my wrists. My arms didn't want to work, but it didn't matter, I was floating and falling and dizzy as the cloth came off my face. With the cotton gone, every single sound was deafening, I could feel myself jump without control and it hurt some but that didn't matter, either. The gag was gone, but my tongue was stuck in place, dry, I couldn't get any moisture to it and I just lay there with my mouth open while he freed my eyes and the daylight hit painfully.

I was sobbing so much I thought he might hit me but I couldn't stop and I could hardly breathe. His hands shielded my eyes for a minute and allowed them to get used to the brightness.

Hands held me up, I squinted and then felt the glass on my lips and I tried to drink desperately, he let some trickle in but drew it back and I was whimpering almost in silence, listening to his voice.

"Easy now, I've freed you and I hope you never do anything to force me to put you back," he said softly.

I shook my head as if I'd never stop and he cradled me and I pressed into his chest as he stroked my hair. He offered me the water again and this time let me drink a few gulps of it. It was soothing on my throat and he asked if I was better. I snuggled into him, I tried to say yes but no sound came out, just more raspy whimpers that he seemed to understand.

"All right. You're all right now, Dusty. You just need a bath and a meal...and I want to hear you say who cares about you? Who takes care of you?"

My breath was so ragged, my brain so weak I had a very hard time answering, but I knew I had to. It was only a whisper that I was able to get out.

"You...Sebby..."

"Good. That's settled. Now you will remember this, won't you?"

One hand tightened hard on my wrist where the rope had rubbed it raw and I closed my eyes and whispered to him.

"Yes...Yes...I'll never forgot again. Please, Sebby, stay with me, don't hurt me, please, Sebby," I pleaded.

Begging always seemed to make him happy, he loosened his grip. I got one hand to my face and began to rub my forehead, harder and harder, I wanted to cave it in but then he took my hand away gently and his voice was soft and scolding.

"Dusty. Stop now."

"I'm sorry...Sebby, I'm really sorry for how I treat you," I told him, craving his forgiveness, his protection...even his love.

"All right. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. You haven't eaten in days, you must be hungry, what would you like?"

"Sebby, don't leave me alone..." I begged him but he didn't answer, just helped me up and had to almost carry me into the bathroom. I was a mess, my eyes were working again and I could see blood everywhere but I forgot how it got there until I noticed my hands.

"Sebby?" I implored him to look and I remember that I had scraped them with my fingernails but what I did was open wounds that looked disgusting, deep and bloody.

"I see. Next time I'll tape gloves on your hands," he said, sounding angry. The voice scared me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You know I can't think right...does there have to be a next time?" I asked him, cringing, half expecting to be clobbered, but he shook his head.

"That's up to you, now isn't it."

I didn't know, I wasn't sure about anything except that this man owned me, he had complete control, not over something that wasn't important like my life or my death, but over that closet and its horrid void. And over whether I was wanted anywhere, he wanted me and no one else did.

I would not let him down again.

~*~*~

The weather was decent for whatever we felt like doing.

Seb looked great, and Dusty was on his arm again when he greeted me.

My brother was back to his old impassive self, he didn't greet me. I don't know why I worried, Dusty was lucky to be with this man and then I saw his hands were bandaged.

"What happened?" I asked Seb and he looked to where my eyes pointed and shrugged.

"Oh, he was only trying to help, thought he'd surprise me by taking a casserole out of the oven, but forgot the pot holders. The burns aren't serious but I didn't want them to get infected," Seb said absently.

Strange. Dusty had cooked for years for us and I don't remember him ever getting burnt. Now that I think about it, why didn't he?

I let it go and we shot some hoops for a while, I'm always happy to impress with my abilities at that sport, besides, it's fun and I miss that about my high school days. I trounced Seb, easy.

Seb didn't take his shirt off, but that was okay, my attraction was wearing off. There was just something flat about him. I had a feeling he and I would run out of things to say real fast. The sex would be dull and I'd ditch him for the first cute ass I found. See? I already gave us a relationship, sex and a breakup without blowing my lead in the game.

Dusty sat and watched us, his expression never wavered, sadness was all I ever saw, or maybe it was just confusion.

When Seb went inside to use the facilities, I sat down next to my brother on the ground. It was cold.

"How can you sit here? My ass is already starting to popsicle."

He was trembling, just slightly, was he afraid of me? "Dusty, what's the matter...I know you can talk."

I picked up one of his hands and he just let me, completely submissive, and I turned it to look at the bandage.

"Are you sure you didn't get burnt too bad?"

He looked down at my hand holding his and very slowly his other hand came over and touched mine, his fingertips trailed the back of it almost reverently.

"Dusty, for god's sake, why won't you talk to me? Why did you tell me you were sorry?"

"I'm always sorry," he told me, looking up again.

His eyes were beautiful, soulful, they didn't look empty or sightless.

"Hey, can you see me?" I asked him softly.

He seemed puzzled by that, he cocked his head.

"Not the way you see," he answered slowly. "Alec, remember, I'm blind."

I put my hand up, with two fingers only extended. "How many fingers?"

I realized immediately how dumb that was to ask, he couldn't count. I put my hand down.

"Two."

He could see and he could count, well, to two anyway. What the hell?

"Dusty, I always wanted to say I was sorry for not paying more attention to you. I've felt bad about that since you left. I don't blame you for leaving."

His eyes seemed to get wider and he bit down on his lip and I thought, enough of the mushy stuff or I'd have him hysterical again. I patted his shoulder and smiled.

"It's all right. I guess I just always wanted to say that, but it's no big deal."

I got up, brushing off the coldness that had seeped through my jeans and saw, thank God, Seb approaching. I hoped I would never be alone with Dusty again. It was way too disquieting.

"So," he asked cheerfully. "What'd you two talk about?"

"Did you know Dusty can see? And count?"

"He can see a little, shadows mostly I think. It's hard to tell sometimes. In strange places he's never been he seems almost completely blind, here though, sometimes he hardly seems blind at all."

I shook my head. Seb had lived with Dusty for three years and still found him an enigma, I gave up. I didn't like knowing I upset him whenever I saw him. It was best I left and forgot about him. I'd leave Seb my contact info and make sure it stayed updated in case he needed anything, otherwise, what was the point?

Seb changed the subject to the Trailblazers, a subject dear to my heart and we walked for a while so he could show me the grounds and the horseless stables and the tennis court that looked barely used. That was the thing with this guy. He had so much, but who did he share it with? The inside of the house was as sterile as the outside, just as coldly impressive, just as perfect. It mirrored him exactly.

I left after dinner. I didn't plan to come back, but you know what they say about plans...

My car threw a belt only a mile or so down the road and it was a long hike to anywhere, except back to Seb's. I wasn't even sure who to call for a tow.

I heard the scream before I got past the front lawn and I stopped and listened.

The sound came again, someone was screaming like they were being murdered and I had a good idea who it was.

But why? My heart started racing.

I ran to the door quickly and stabbed at the buzzer.

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~~end Chapter Two