The Memoirs

A warm body. Naked... clean. He could feel it, and he always felt the best after hitting the sheets after a long, warm bath.

 

However, sleep was, as usual, alluding him. Dominic had slept for... fuck. Forty nine minutes, before his body had decided to wake him right on up. So there he was, lying in bed beside his lover, staring at the ceiling… and terrified, out of his mind.

 

He'd decided to tell Lindy. He did. She was his sister, his friend, and a wonderful woman who deserved no less than what he could tell her. But the question was, as usual... if he had the guts.

 

After fifteen minutes of pondering, and his lust stirring with his warm, sleeping lover, Dominic climbed from the sheets and went to the closet. Warm black slacks...a green sweater, and some very comfortable dress shoes. He didn’t want to look like a total slob when he found his sister, and a quick stop in the bathroom assured him his short hair wasn’t really bad.

 

He stopped before he left, and walked around the bed to crouch in front of his sleeping baby. So beautiful. So his.

 

He pressed a soft, tender kiss to his hair, and disappeared.

 

Lindy loved Lex's library.  Her fingertips ran over the spines of the books, feeling the embossed titles and authors as she let her mind just... wander.

 

So many names, so many titles... so many books.  All of them, worn and loved and used, not just ornamental, and she loved it.  She breathed in the scent of the books, and indulged herself in a quick, girlish dance with the dust motes that flickered in the open window in the light of the moon. 

 

The witching hour grew near, and she couldn't help but be drawn to the books.  They were her first, greatest love.

 

And that’s where he found her. His feet were quiet, despite the various televisions, radios, and talking going on, as he made it down the steps. Ms Bird was in the kitchen with Alfred, Enrique was... strangely, nowhere to be seen, and his Lindy was, as he leaned against the doorframe, in her element. Lex's library was a labor of love and he displayed it with pride... and here, where one booklover could reflect and understand another, was his sister. He grinned... quiet, watching her without a word as she looked. Then, oh, she did the dance, and he had to chuckle softly.

 

Lindy whirled at the soft laughter from the doorway, and clutched her chest.  "Morgan!  Give me a heart attack, sneaking up like that!" 

 

He smiled again, wider, and shook his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and walking in. "I didn’t sneak. You were just engrossed, sweetheart."

 

"Well, engross yourself in this."  She took the hands that had just come out of his pockets and clasped them warmly in hers and pulled him into a dance.

 

Oh. He blinked once before laughing, and quickly took the lead, pulling her into the little dance she'd been doing... some dance his mother had taught him as a teenager, if he remembered correctly. He spun around the room, happily holding his oldest sister with a grin. "Where be little Ms. Ellie?"

 

"If I am lucky, she is still sleeping.  If she's not sleeping, then she's pestering Mr. Pennyworth and Ms. Bird for cookies in the kitchen."  She twirled with him around the library.

 

And he dipped her, low. "Have you any prior engagements, darling?" He lifted her back up and grinned into the kiss he pressed to her cheek. "I know you're a busy woman, what with the cheer-making and peacekeeping."

 

"Previous engagements?  Only with a book, and that's the good thing about them, they really don't mind when you get to them."  She returned the kiss to his cheek, and grinned at him.  "Who's room are we toilet papering?"

 

"Megan’s, but don’t tell, its a secret." He smiled again and slowly led them to a slow sway, sighing as he held her close. "I love you so, darling."

 

"I won't tell, and I can't think of anyone who needs it more."  She rested her cheek on his shoulder.  "I love you, my brother."  She looked up then, hand on his shoulder cushioning her chin.  "What's wrong?"

 

He chuckled at that, softly, slowly moving her about the room. "I've something to talk to you about... its important to me."

 

Her face grew suddenly serious.  "Then that makes it important to me, too."  She looked around, saw a two-person love seat in the corner near the fire, and dragged him over to it.  "C'mon then... get comfortable."

 

He let her go after a moment and followed, around a little table...before he turned back, and closed the door to the library. Made sure no one would bother them and he walked back to his sister with a little swallow. Oh, Christ.

 

He had never felt so lost, and so scared, in his life.

 

He toed his shoes off absently and slid into the love seat beside his sister… snuggling up but not so he couldn’t hold her hands, which he did. Each palm in his own, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of each one. "Make me a promise."

 

Lindy tucked her feet under her, cuddling beside her brother.  "Anything, Morgan, you know that."

 

"Don’t cry."

 

"I'll try not to."  She put her head on his shoulder.  "That's the best I can do, love."

 

"I know." He set his cheek on the crown of her head, looking into the fire as they warmed one another. Now or never, Morgan. "I’ve decided its time to tell you, beloved."

 

"Tell me what's been eating your life away?" she asked softly, rubbing his hands with her fingertips.

 

He let her... tracing her fingernails as she swept over his hands. "Yes.  Can I admit something to you, big sister?"

 

"Of course you can."  She kissed his cheek.  "I'm your big sister; you're supposed to admit things to me."  But her light words were spoken in a grave tone, and she had not let go of his hands.

 

"I’m scared of telling you. Not because I don’t want to... but because I’m very scared by how you're going to… I don’t want you to treat me differently because of it. I know I can’t ask you for that promise… but I ask of you, please don’t."

 

"Morgan... nothing you could say--not even the fact that you killed someone--would change how I look at you.  You're my little brother, and I adore you."  She pulled her hands away, but only long enough to wrap her arms around his shoulder, and pressed her cheek against the back of his neck.

 

He slid closer to her… as close as she'd let him, and closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against her shoulder and holding her tightly. "When I was twenty two years old, I was raped by three men."

 

And there it was. He didn’t dare move... just kept his eyes closed, and listened to the fire crackling. "For four days."

 

"Oh... Morgan, no," she whispered quietly.  The tears already formed in the back of her throat, and her chest just ached for her brother.  "How... oh, God... how brave you had to have been."  She pressed her cheek into his hair so that he didn't see her crying.  Her arms were chokingly tight around his neck, and she was squeezing as hard as she could.

 

He let her, though. Because he had to finish… he had to. "They hurt me. Very badly. My body healed, but my mind didn’t, not for a long time. And that... that is why I haven’t been... I've been gone on a holiday, as you said, until now." His heart was fluttering...his eyes were shut, and he was trying to keep a hold of his terror at having… having finally said it. "Don’t cry, Lindy, my sister, please don’t."

 

"I can't--I can't help it."  Her arms were locked tightly around him, and she was rocking herself against him.  "Oh, Morgan.  I--I never imagined it was so horrible, what you weren't telling us."  Her face stayed pressed into his hair.  "I am so, so sorry they hurt you, I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe, little brother, I'm just so sorry, my darling."  She kissed his temple.  "You... oh, Morgan, you are my hero."

 

His eyes were quiet and mute… his voice soft, and he rearranged himself, laying his head in his sisters lap, curling up, knees to his chest, and the blanket they'd thrown over themselves over his back and side. "It was my own doing. I was a very trusting lad, you know that; and I trusted these men as friends. That is, until I realized what a charade it had been. I did imagine, for quite a long time, that you thought I had killed someone... I’m sorry to have kept you thinking that for so long. beloved." He held her arm against his shoulder, tightly. "I do love you, quite a bit. And you, my beautiful, are my hero."

 

"No... no, I never thought you killed anyone, not seriously.  Oh, Morgan, Morgan... I'm so much less brave than you think."  She hugged him tightly, refusing to let him go.  "Tell Graham, he'll take care of them for you, he nearly did Roddy in, he'll make sure they're sorry for ever hurting you, my darling."

 

He shook his head, softly...the silence of the room but for the crackling fire making him think back upon that warm, wonderful night of pleasure in Lionel’s penthouse... where the photographs had marred it all. He swallowed, hard, and looked up at his sister... reaching up to gently push a lock of hair back. "Lionel took care of it."

 

"Good for him."  She looked down at him, blinking hard to clear her eyes out.  "He's a good man for that, I've got to hug him for that."  She hugged Dominic hard.  "You are so, so, lucky to have him taking care of you."

 

"He's..." He stopped. "I suppose he is taking care of me, isn’t he? I love him so, Lindy... I adore him with every fiber of my being. My telling you... it's for him. I’m sick of cheating him parts of myself because they're so weighed down by my past. I want... I want to love him as a whole man, and this is what I need to do to achieve it." And now, he reached up to hug her, awkwardly as was their position. "I’m going to tell the rest of the family."

 

"My brave, brave darling."  She gripped him tightly as he hugged her, sliding around so that they could easily reach each other.  "Don't tell Shayla; she's too young to hear it.  We'll tell her in a few years, when she's older."  She rubbed her cheek against him.  "I wish I had been as brave as you."

 

"No, Shayla's too much of a babe still to know quite yet." He swallowed, and held her softly. "I wasn’t brave. Not at all, Lindy darling. I wasn’t brave. You… though, you. You are my brave princess, my goddess."

 

"You were brave, Morgan, you are brave every day you wake up with this on your shoulders and can still smile through it."  She held him tightly.  "You are, braver than you know, and so, so strong."

 

"I’m not strong." Dominic reflected softly. "And I smile… because there isn’t anything left to do."

 

~*Flashback*~

 

Being an intern, Morgan reflected, was the funnest thing in the world. His schooling, his training, all the work he'd done...it was finally paying off. Sure, he was still taking a few night classes at Metropolis U...some of his credits from England hadn’t transferred from his freshman year, and he was almost through with them anyway.

 

His heart was light, his work hard, and he was enjoying himself more then he could say.

 

Something Mr. Luthor had seen in his work, his resume, had apparently been good, because Morgan was working in Mr. Luthor's office as a clerk. How cool was THAT? He was working up the ladder already! Hadn’t his mama always told him to work hard and he'd make it? Of course.

 

It had killed her when he left home, but Graham had recently gotten a job offer in Vancouver, so they might leave the homeland soon and be near him again. And for that, he was grateful.

 

The workday was almost over, and he was glad for it. It had been a hard week...take over for some company, and Mr. Luthor was having them all work twice as hard to keep it all in order, so when he seized the company, everything would be perfect.

 

And it couldn’t be a lie, that Morgan’s heart caught whenever Mr. Luthor was close. He was... an outrageously beautiful man, and yes, Morgan had those types of yearnings some times... though his mother wasn’t having any of it. He'd just broken up with Alice May, and his mother was... less then pleased. He couldn’t help it, if she didn’t have the anatomy he wanted in someone.

 

He looked up as Mr. Luthor stepped into the room where they were all working, and he managed not to bite his lip. His good friend, Lawrence, was next to him, as where Lionel's board members, Kevin Anderson and Thomas Johnson. They'd gone out for drinks and clubbing several times, and Morgan considered them the first friends he'd made in this blasted city. They'd even helped him find that beautiful apartment in Nantucket. Wonderful place, and he tried not to look like an overeager puppy as Mr. Luthor spoke to his room of office employees.

 

Lawrence's eyes barely narrowed as he caught the eagerly bouncing new brat in the office.  Outrageously thick accent, straight out of the hick backwoods of Ireland, and Lawrence hated him.

 

With a passion. 

 

You see... Lawrence had already heard rumblings in the Personnel department as to how exemplary this young bastard's work had been.  Lionel had heard it too, and rumor through the grapevine had it that Lionel was considering moving this Morgan Senatori up.  To his position.

 

And he didn't like that one bit. 

 

Kevin and Thomas, they were with him as soon as they'd heard it.  There weren't going to be any no-name young twits in their company... only the prestigious purebloods like themselves.

 

Morgan tried to keep himself still... coffee that morning had been a mistake, he'd been wired all day. But he managed to stay still, listening to Mr. Luthor speaking, and wondered if he would mind if he took some of this work home with him. He'd have it done by Monday morning, and the next week would go a lot smoother if the numbers were already done. But he wasn’t one to interrupt--he had better manners then that, and he listened quietly to the older man with respect.

 

Lionel looked out over his office.  "Now, for the last thing.  I will be going to Smallville first thing tomorrow morning, meeting with the Ross brothers.  Lawrence, I expect you and Mr. ... Senatori, is it?  I expect the two of you to have the numbers ready for me, as well as the cashier's check for the contract, ready to be delivered Monday morning to Smallville.  Do I make myself clear?"

 

"Yes, sir." Oh, and HELL YES! He could DO numbers! YESYESYES! WOOOOOO! He smiled, nodded, and tried not to look like he'd won the lottery, clearing his throat lightly and nodding once more. "It'll b' ready."

 

"Good.  Positive thinking is always a plus."  Lionel nodded once.  "That'll be all."

 

Lawrence shot a look at his boss, and then at his two friends.  "Well, Morgan, guess that means we'll be working late tonight, humm?"  He pasted a friendly smile on his face.  "Want to go out for a bite to eat and drink before we get started on the work?"

 

He nodded, as the other men and women began to pack up for the night. He was always ready to work, if it pleased his boss, he'd keep doing it. Plus, it was work he enjoyed, so it wouldn’t be a bad night to pass. "Yeah, tha'll be wondaful. Where to?"

 

"How about my apartment?  We can take the work home, spread out in the kitchen, and hit the bar."  Lawrence's face ached from the false smile.  "Kevin and Thomas will help us, make the work go faster so we don't waste the weekend."

 

"Aye, sounds fine, there." Morgan offered a smile, and tried not to show his excitement. Okay, who was he kidding? As soon as Lionel was gone he grinned and did a little dance. "Tha big man is likin' me--isn’t that something?" He beamed at his friend, then at the two other men and nodded, offering his hand. "That would be fine, yes. Thanks 'gain."

 

Lawrence shook it in a firm grip.  "Be careful of the big man, Morgan... being noticed and being liked are two entirely different things.  Especially in this company."

 

His eyebrows rose... then furrowed at the center, and he gazed questioningly at his friend as he let go of Lawrence’s hand and began to gather his things. A knapsack carried all his paperwork, and as he pulled his long wool coat on and donned his scarf, he slipped the bag across his chest and filled it with his things. His brother had given it to him some time ago, but it had never shown him anything other then good luck. And yes, that luck had carried over to the company, and he slipped the large padded calculator and his pen in as well.  "What do ya mean by tha't?"

 

"Nothing more than I said," Lawrence said with a smile, shared with Kevin and Thomas.  "I've got to, ah, stop by my office and pick up a few things; why don't I meet you downstairs in the lobby?  Leave your car in the parking deck, Morgan, we'll bring you to pick it up when you're done; no need in all of us taking our cars." 

 

Kevin and Thomas shared a look with each other and nodded in agreement.  "Sure thing; me and Tom will give you a ride back tonight," Kevin added, draping his arm around Morgan's shoulder.

 

"Wondaful. Are your wives alright wit this? Not goin' to miss you?" Morgan asked questioningly, arranging his satchel over his collar bone and running his fingers through his longish hair as they walked around the cubicles.

 

Years later, Carolyn would tell him they had landed like a pack of vultures on him.

 

"I’ve no one waitin' for me… but are ya both alright?"

 

"They're used to our late nights, and they know Lionel's tendency to assign things to be done at the last minute.  If it gets unreasonably late, we'll give them a ring and let them know." Thomas reassured him as Lawrence disappeared.  "C'mon, Morgan, stop worrying.  Just decide what you'd like to have for dinner."  A false, reassuring smile.

 

 "Ah...its not a matter of me, I'm quite fine with whatever you're to decide upon." He smiled a little a them, as they made it to the plush elevators at the end of the hall. Lionel was just stepping in and he immediately smiled and offered quietly, "Safe trip, Mr. Luthor." before he could stop himself. Flushed a little but didn’t look away, swallowing hard against the lump that had risen in his throat. God, the man… he was beautiful. Untouchable, but beautiful. And there wasn’t a law anywhere that said he couldn’t look, even if it was discreet from his friends.

 

"Good evening, Mr. Senatori."  Lionel's farewell was perfunctory, and he barely met Morgan's gaze as the doors snapped shut in front of him, rising upwards to the top floor, and his office.

 

"Kissass," Thomas muttered darkly to Kevin.

 

"That's what we're going to break out of him," Kevin muttered back just as quietly.

 

"Hmm?" He didn’t hear what the men had said, and glanced over at Thomas...then to Kevin. "I’m sorry?"

 

"Oh, nothing, we're just discussing what we feel like for dinner.  Is Thai okay with you?  I was just saying that I felt like spicy garlic chicken in peanut sauce," Thomas said smoothly.

 

Both brows peaked. Hot what with huh? Oh, God. Where were his mama's potatoes and beef? But he just smiled and nodded, and didn’t say anything regarding how disgusting that sounded. "It's fine, whatever you all prefer is no bother to me."

 

Kevin returned the smile, snickering to himself.  A good old home boy like Morgan had to completely despise exotic cuisine, and Thai had been the most outrageous thing that Thomas could have suggested.  "I know that Lawrence has a fondness for sake, but I don't know of anywhere in the city open late enough to get a good bottle."

 

Thomas looked over.  "What about you, Morgan?  Know of anywhere we could get a nice bottle of sake at this time of night?"

 

One brow rose ever so gently, hitting his hairline as he looked up at the two men. He was nice, not stupid. "No, I’m sorry. Know anywhere where a body could get some soda bread with raspberry bavarois?"

 

It was Thomas' turn to look puzzled.  "Soda bread?"

 

"I don't think there's an international deli open this time of night," Kevin replied, completely guessing.

 

He smirked at the two, and push the button down. "I'll have me sister come and make you some sometime. She's quite the chef." He slipped his hands into his pockets and grinned at the two. "Thai it be. Where'd Lawrence go off to?"

 

"Up to his office, to get a few things.  He'll be down shortly, but you know how he is.  Can't find his ass with both hands and a map."  Forced laughter from both men.

 

He grinned, and the elevator opened before them. "He's a forgetful fellow. Nice, though. How long've you both been workin' with him?" He stepped into the elevator and held it open for the both of them to follow.

 

Up in his office, Lawrence gave a vicious yelp as his fingers found what they were looking for.  Small, unmarked bottle of little white pills he'd gotten two weeks ago, and he stuck them in his pocket. 

 

Back at the elevator, Thomas raised an eyebrow.  Nosy little prick, isn't he?  "A couple of years; he's a good man.  His father sat on the board of Phillip's company, before LuthorCorp took it over."  Thomas nodded.  "His family's been with the Luthor family now for two generations."

 

"That’s quite amazin'. He's a nice chap… don’t meet many like that in a lifetime, do you?" He smiled easily as he pushed the button to the bottom floor. "I've been readin' up on the company… what a history." He laughed quietly. "I hope to make me mark in it someday. The work intrigues me, quite a bit." Morgan slipped his fingers back into his pockets. "And i's a pleasure workin with men of your stature. You've taught me quite a bit."

 

Kevin couldn't help the smile.  "Not nearly so much as we're going to teach you, Morgan.  We're going to take you places you've never been before... put you under our auspices, so to speak.  We've--the three of us--taken quite an interest in you."

 

"For that I am grateful." He smiled back. "The city was a bit frightening to me the first few weeks...your help has been most appreciated." He shifted his weight to the other leg. "'m used to small towns… villages back home, by the sea. Suppose you can put the boy in the city, but you can’t take the village from his heart." And oh, how he missed it. He'd never say it, because he'd wanted to get OUT for so long... but he missed their house, by the ocean. He missed seeing his mother everyday... he missed his little brother and sister. And he missed his Meggie. Desperately. She'd come with him… but she might as well not have, for all she was in Metropolis. Gina had a life on the runway...and he missed her, so much.

 

Kevin left his arm around Morgan's shoulders.  "Glad that we could be there for you, Morgan."

 

Lawrence was sprinting down the hallway as the elevator doors closed on Morgan and the other two men, and he shrugged.  Shouldering his briefcase and making sure the bottle was tucked safely in his jacket pocket, he headed for the stairs.  Down sixteen flights, and he was emerging breathlessly from the hallway.

 

He and the two men were standing, waiting for him... and Morgan’s eyebrow rose as he caught sight of Lawrence running towards them. He grinned and got up from his lean against the secretaries desk, saying a goodnight to the lovely Carolyn who he had more then a passing interest in, and bid her a goodnight before his gaze traveled back to the men. "Well then, off we are."

 

"Yes... we are.  Got everything we need, right here."  He lifted his briefcase, and then patted his jacket pockets, the rattling of his keys covering up the bottle rattling.  "All right, enough of the fun and games.  What are we doing for dinner, and dammit, I'm thirsty.  I need a bottle of sake."

 

There was the sake again and he laughed, eyes dancing as they stepped out of the enormous glass doors. The fountain was shining and lit in the sun that had just set, and lovely with lights shining from the blue water. He gazed at it for a moment before grinning at the men and following them to wherever they might be off to. "Someone mentioned something about Thai."

 

"Dear God in Heaven, Thomas, you've a cast iron stomach.  Too bad none of the rest of us do.  You can have your Thai, but I think the rest of us will eat something a bit more civilized.  Like, a steak perhaps."  Lawrence shook his head.  "How does steak sound to you, Morgan?"

 

"That’s fine." Another smile, while his insides were rolling his eyes at the stupid Americans. "Anything you'd like, I don’t have any preference.  An ale, as well. Its been a long bloody day." Morgan sighed it, shoes quiet on the pavement that was newly wet… it must have sprinkled a bit earlier. He watched the other men...more comfortable then he'd been in some time, and sighed softly.

 

A shameful tsking noise from Lawrence.  "Shame on you, Morgan.  You've got to take a stand somewhere."  A friendly grin that completely masked the evil intent behind it.  "Go on, make a preference and stand behind it, man.  You'll get nowhere in this world being an indecisive pansy."  He took out his cell phone, and pitched his keys to Kevin.  "Go on and get the car started, I'm going to call over to Tratterham's and order the steaks to pick up on the way home.  Morgan, how do you want yours?  Kevin?  Tom?"

 

"Rare," Tom piped up.

 

"Bloody for me too," answered Kevin.

 

"Right.  Three rare, and whatever Morgan wants.  Ale... Guinness Stout?" Lawrence guessed.  "There's a store on the way home, we can get a six-pack."

 

"Well done." He glanced up. "Yes, Guinness. Let me help pay for it, aye? I’m not to let you handle the check alone." As was his way, ignoring the pansy remark and nodding at his friend. "You all paid for the drinks last week. This'll be my treat, alright?"

 

"No, no, not at all, Morgan.  This is our treat to you.  Well done steak, and a pint of Guinness.  We'll pick up the six pack on the way, but we'll pick up a pint at the restaurant to get you started.  Highly illegal, you know, but I know the manager." 

 

"Illegal?" He cracked a grin. "You Americans are a strange lot… but oddly wonderful." And he grinned again, eyes dancing and shaking his head.

 

"Oh, yes, highly illegal," Kevin said, juggling Lawrence's car keys as they led Morgan out through the parking deck.  "It's against the law to have an open container of alcohol in a moving vehicle at all, even if the driver's not consuming a drop."

 

Lawrence looked down the desk at Carolyn.  "Well, what are you waiting for?  Get me Tratterham's on the phone, and ask for Peter Bloom."

 

"Is it?" He raised a brow, nodded. "I don’t want you to get in trouble... we can wait." He followed along with them, and heard his brothers voice in his head from years ago. 'Let them think you're a country bumpkin, lad. It'll only shock them all the more when they realize you aren’t.' "I wasn’t aware President Regan had changed the law in the three months since I’ve graduated University. Hmmm. I'll have to remember that, for future references." But he smiled again, and followed them into the dark parking deck, yellow lights lit under the covered parking. A glance at his old clunker... making sure the fender hadn’t fallen off again, before he followed the men to the more... expensive, luxury cars.

 

Carolyn’s eyebrow rose, hard, and she glared at him, standing. "I’m sorry, Lawrence. Its 6:05. I’ve been off for five minutes." Another hard glare, and she gathered her purse and coat, flouncing off.

 

Lawrence snarled at the bitch as she flounced off, and sat behind the front desk, propping his feet and making sure to muddy Carolyn's papers as he placed his order with his friend. 

 

"It'll benefit you, sure as anything."  Thomas nodded, and held out his hand for the keys as they got into Lawrence's car.  "There we go.  Let's go round and pick him up at the front."

 

"Are you kidding?" Kevin asked.  "If he sees anyone behind the wheel of his baby, he'll skin all three of us."

 

"Its a lovely car, isn’t it?" And God, it was. Morgan would kill to have a sexy little Jaguar like this. Leather seats, wood paneling...gorgeous. He drooled for a minute, as he always did, then gave a self effacing grin and straightened. "I'll have one like this someday."

 

"Of course you will, Morgan.  Just a little more hard work, that's all it'll take."  Kevin barely kept the condescension out of his tone.

 

Lawrence came out of the building, and headed straight for the car.  He ran his hands lovingly over the hood, and then over the handle as he opened the door.  "At least you were all bright enough not to harm my baby."

 

"Of course not." Morgan winked and once it was all clear, opened the door. "It's a lovely car, Lawrence... you've had it detailed recently, haven’t you?" He slipped into the back seat of the little two door orgasm, settling on the plush leather and scooting over for one of them to sit beside him. "You're a lucky bastard."

 

"I have her detailed every week, Morgan.  You have to be good to a beautiful lady like this, and she'll always be good to you.  If you remember nothing else that I teach you, remember that.  You treat her like a lady, and she'll always get you home."  It was probably the only sincere advice that Lawrence had ever given Morgan, but some things transcended petty dislikes and hatreds, and appreciation of fine metal was it.  "Come on, they'll have our food ready by the time we get to Tratterham's.  Pile in, boys."

 

Thomas climbed into the back beside Morgan, and Kevin into the front seat beside Lawrence.

 

"My mum always wanted a car like this... why, I don’t know. There's six of us children... but I suppose that was why. So many children borne, so little fun had." He grinned, though, and settled, slipping his satchel from his shoulder and over his head, and he set the bag behind the seat carefully, as to not mush any stray papers. "It's a fine color, as well. Red as blood, that’s the way to go. They say that chap running for office next year… what’s his name...Bush something or other, he's got one like this."

 

"Shows that even ineptitude can have good taste--Bush, Morgan, not your mother."  Lawrence nipped nimbly through traffic, down the three blocks to the restaurant.  "I'm going in to get the food.  Don't get in any trouble while I'm in there."  He handed his briefcase to Morgan, and dropped his keys on top of the bottle in his pocket.  "Stick this back there with yours, would you, man?"

 

"Mmm." He took the case and set it n the little nook he'd put his satchel, careful not to scratch it and set it with the others. The drivers door shut with a little whoosh, and Morgan sighed softly. "I meant to ask the lot of you...what do you know about Carolyn?"

 

"Prissy little bitch," Kevin answered instantly.   "Has a bit of an attitude on her, too."

 

"Does she?" He liked them with spice, and he was man enough to admit it. "I’m thinking about asking her out to dinner with me next week. She's always been nice to me...I like her."

 

"I'm sure she'd love to go out with you.  Maybe... some of your attitude will rub off on her.  I'm sick of getting the bitchy treatment," Thomas added.  "Last week, she all but slammed the door in my face."

 

Morgan kept his commentary on WHY she'd done that to himself. Grabbing her ass wasn’t exactly the best way to win a woman’s respect… or heart, for that matter. "I don’t think anyone could run the front office but her. She's got it going like a little regimen." And there was nothing but respect for that in his voice.

 

"Hell, Morgan, my grandmother could run that office better!"

 

Inside the foyer of the restaurant, Lawrence set the box of food down on the closest bench, and fished in his pocket.  Pulling out one of the white pills, he dropped it into the large Styrofoam cup of lager, and watched it foam and dissolve.  Putting the lid back on it and swirling it around, Lawrence was whistling as he picked the food back up and carried back outside. 

 

Kevin saw him coming and rolled down the window.  "Sweet Jesus, Lawrence, that's enough to feed an army!"

 

"We're going to need to keep our strength up, if we want to get everything accomplished this weekend!"  Lawrence walked around the car and handed Morgan the drugged beer.  "Here you go, Morgan.  Drink up; I have a feeling we're all going to need it before the night's over with."

 

"Ah, thank you." He sighed softly. It smelled like home, but he didn’t dare drink it in the car, as Thomas and Kevin had told him. So he just scooted a little to help Kevin get the food, shaking his head and grinning. "It's going to be a long night. Mr. Luthor has...ah. Well. Some of these numbers... I’ve been looking over them, and I think someone in accounting got somethin' wrong. Things aren’t addin' up as they should." He sighed, softly. Incompetence. Yay. "We might have to redo parts'a the financial report for last quarter."

 

Lawrence frowned into the mirror.  "Not thirsty, Morgan?  Go on, man, drink up.  It's not like the cops are out to pull us over tonight, and if they do, we can always claim it's alcohol-free!"  Of course the numbers weren't adding up; that's why they were cooking them tonight.  There was money going straight into Lawrence's Swiss accounts.

 

And Morgan, being a twenty two year old boy, just grinned and nodded. "Aye." So he opened it, and took a little sip, before glancing out into the street. The sun had fallen, the sky was dark, and Metropolis's night life was out to play. Prostitutes, club goers, restaurant dwellers. Lounge lizards and coffee house drinkers. It was so different… but so splendid, and he took another drink, sighing softly. The alcohol he'd been drinking since before he could remember fell warm and dusky on his belly, and he sighed happily at it. "Mmm. Reminds me of home."

 

Kevin turned a conspiratorial look at Lawrence, and Lawrence nodded in affirmation.  "I just bet it does.  That stuff sells like nobody's business around here, especially around the holidays."  Bullshit, but it was a harmless line of bullshit conversation.  "You're not the only one that likes it, but as I've said before, I like sake better--there's just something about rice wine that warms my belly when I drink it, and makes my toes curl."

 

"Ah, so that’s what it be. Rice wine." He grinned. "Could have just said so." He looked back out onto the street... taking another sip. Strange...the lights were blurring together a bit. He rubbed at his eyes… the day must have fallen harder on him then he thought. Plus, the added coffee. Heh. Sedative much? Never again. "What have you all got planned for the weekend? Out and about with the children again, Thomas? Your wife is such a sweet lady...made conversation with me earlier this week. You've a beautiful baby girl."

 

"Yeah, taking the little ones out to some damn book store or other.  Seems... Christ, what are those obnoxious little things with the hair and the gemstones in their bellies?  Trolls!  Some of those things are going to be making an appearance, and the girl wants to go and have her picture taken."  Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.  "Would I could avoid it."

 

Lawrence met his friend's eyes in the mirror and smirked.  "Tell her you've got work to do; you can hide out at my apartment."

 

"My sister loves those things. I myself can't see the appeal, but are we but adult men, right? Little girls are a mystery." He smiled again, but something... he didn’t feel so well. He hadn’t been feeling right lately as it were, but now, more then ever. A bit lightheaded… tired. "Mmm. I might have to call it an early tonight, after we do a bit of work, gentlemen. I’ve not been myself lately."

 

"Yeah, right."  Kevin smirked.  And then turned around to look at Morgan.  "You okay, man?  You look like you don't feel so well."

 

"You want to close your eyes till we get to the apartment?"  Lawrence rolled his eyes.  "Traffic looks to be a bitch tonight, and if you'd like to nap..."

 

"No. I’m alright." He shook his head, and kept up his pride, even as his vision started to swim. "Its just..." He swallowed, and handed Kevin the Guinness before he spilled it. His hands were beginning to shake... something wasn’t right. At all. His blood was rushing, and a cold sweat broke out under his clothes...skated across the back of his neck.

 

Something was wrong. Something was...

 

And the last thing that clicked, before his head lolled back onto the back of the seat, was the Styrofoam cup.

 

"Jesus fucking Christ," Lawrence spat out.  "Took the little fucker long enough!  If I had to be nice to him much longer, I'd have been sick."

 

"Now, now, if you ever lose your job with LuthorCorp you could go into acting.  I'd never have believed you weren't his best friend in the world," placated Kevin.  "Where'd you get to take him?"

 

"Little room on the South side.  Been paying the rent in cash for two weeks now, never shown my face once around there.  Everything's set up just fine."

 

~ *  ~

 

Morgan's blood was screaming. Something, something wasn’t right. God, no. His dreams were full of mounting dread, unspeakable, unseen fear that came from the gut. Something wasn’t right here. At all. Something wasn’t...

 

His eyes snapped open with force, and he gasped... as much as he could. His tongue, it felt... it felt like sandpaper, it... no. Cotton. Dried... there was something in his mouth, Tied… tied to his...he couldn’t focus, trying to move, and found he couldn’t.

 

He was cold. So cold. And he trembled, from his hair to his toes. Waves of icy needles were rushing over him, and he didn’t know if it was--

 

He'd been drugged. Those three men...three men he thought were his friends, had drugged him. he was sure of it. And when he tried to move... agony shot from his back, thighs, balls, all at once. Now that he was waking up... finding his bearings, he realized he was tied, to a filthy mattress.

 

Naked. Legs tied... something around his genitals, as well. Oh, God. His arms... he was on his knees, cheek pressed to the mattress, arms tied above his head to the steel poles of the headboard.

 

He was terrified, unlike anything ever in his life.

 

"Aaaah... our friend is awake!!"  Lawrence crouched in front of the bed, right in the middle of Morgan's field of vision.  "Welcome back, Morgan.  And welcome home."

 

~* ~

 

Lindy's sobbing broke into the story.  "Mor--Morgan, stop.  I don't--I can't stand hearing this, not the details.  Morgan, my God... how... how did... my brave, brave darling brother."  She clung tightly to him, crying.  "Tell me, Morgan.  Tell me they're all dead now, tell me they suffered just as much as you did before Lionel killed them."  Her grip on him tightened.  "Tell me that, Morgan, please."

 

He was crying too. He couldn’t believe, as he retold the story he hadn’t told anyone, what a trusting boy he'd been... and the pain that had come with that trust. Never again, and he hadn’t let anyone, until Lionel, get close to him. So he held his sister gently and rocked her, holding her close to him as he pressed her cheek to his chest and slid his fingers through her hair. "Yes, baby, oh yes. The two men... shot down, three years after. Lawrence... Lionel... I told Lionel of this, and he had the man hunted and... and killed." His throat worked, hard. "They're dead, beloved...and even if they weren’t, they can't hurt me, not now...not ever again.  I didn’t... beloved, I didn’t ask Lionel to hurt him the way he hurt me. Sweetie..." He choked it. "No one deserves that."

 

"Good.  I'm glad they're dead," she said harshly.  "Nobody should ever be allowed to live who could do that to another human being!"  Lindy clung to her brother still, refusing to let him go.  "You are the bravest, bravest man I've ever known."  Her hand closed tightly on his shoulder.  "Yes, they did.  They did for doing that to you.  And I hope Lionel made him suffer." 

 

"He did. Though I asked him not to… he did, beloved." Softly, and he shut his eyes tight. "I thought... I didn’t know what to do, afterwards. The... embarrassment isn’t the word I’m looking for. Its much deeper, much worse, much harsher then anything embarrassment could ever bring forth."

 

"Shame?" Lindy supplied softly, eyes haunted with her own knowledge.  "Shame, self-loathing, and the desire to forget that it had ever happened."  A soft kiss to his cheek.  "I'm glad Lionel did.  I have to thank him, for that."

 

"Yes." He just nodded, softly, and pressed his cheek to her hair. "I wanted to forget… but I couldn’t. It became my life... it haunted me in everything I did. Even the work I'd chosen for my life became marred by it. I couldn’t look at people in the eye... I could barely speak without a stutter for a long time. And I changed. That’s why I became Dominic... that’s why I cut my hair short, and I grew the goatee, and added the weight. I couldn’t stand being the boy, the weakling, those men had seen.  You can’t understand, Lindy. You can’t, when I had to work with those men afterwards."

 

"I can, a little... maybe better than you realize.  Try sleeping with them, night after night."  She shook her head gently.  "But now isn't the time.  Morgan... I am so, so proud to be your sister.  I never knew just how strong you really, truly are."

 

"I wasn’t strong, Lindy." He said it in disgust. "I was a scared, filthy child who didn’t know what to do. Who buried himself in work and drink, who lost the best years of his life because he couldn’t tell anyone but a sister he shouldn’t have burdened with the weight of it."

 

Lindy's eyes grew wide.  "You--Megan?  You told Megan?"

 

"Told isn’t quite the word."

 

~ * ~

 

Lawrence, Kevin and Thomas had left hours ago.  Left Morgan strung from the ceiling like a piece of meat, beaten, bleeding... broken.  Long whip-marks and open cuts and burns dotted his body; some were already red with infection from the way he'd been kept. 

 

The dog was curled sleeping in the corner, tail wagging as he dreamed, twitching in the sunlight.

 

Blood still pooled, coagulating, on the floors and the walls.  Filthy and bloody clothes were strewn haphazardly about, spoiling food thrown in the corner out of the way.  Empty drink bottles littered the bedrooms, and they'd just... left him there.

 

He wished for death.

 

Tears had long ago been shed. Screams long silenced. It had happened... as if a dream. A horrible, horrible dream that he'd been a part of. And he'd watched these men he'd once respected and liked... do things to him that not even in the darkest part of the human imagination could a body dream up.

 

Used him. Left him to die. Urine and filth everywhere... he hadn’t eaten in days, other then what they had orgasmed down his throat. It was swollen, almost shut, but the little breath he could take in was a blessing. He didn’t want to smell... didn’t want to breathe.

 

He wished for death to come. Let him die, here, where he could feel his blood roll down his body and fall below his head. Let the rats and roaches come...let him die. Because nothing, nothing, could be worse then this. There was nothing left for him, but death. And he wished for it, begged God to take him from this misery and pain. Begged for God to help him, do anything for him.

 

The landlady was making her usual Monday rounds, making lists of the rooms that needed to be cleaned first, after the weekend parties.  Three had piles of vomit in them, two more had had filth spread on the walls, but then she lost her train of thought as she paused outside the door of 5C. 

 

Oh, dear God, what a stench.  "Hallo?  Wake up in there, you louts, and get out of my room!"  When she didn't get a response, she pounded on the door again.  "Get out, I'm tellin' you!" 

 

A voice. Foggy...distant. Like when his mother had called for him to get down from the far side of the cliff, where the ocean lapped a few feet down, and come in for supper. Her voice always carried from their little cottage, light and sweet, and he watched himself run into her open arms as he had done, until the very day he'd left for the university.

 

He missed his mother. And knew he'd never see her again, but for that it was a blessing. He didn’t want her to see him, not like this.

 

The landlady rattled the door knob, and finding it locked, she used the master pass key to open it.

 

The first thing she saw was the blood, and then the dog, and then when he barked and ran to the corner to piss, she screamed.

 

Because she saw Morgan in that second.  "Bloody hell!  What is going on here, my God!" 

 

The scream rattled through his head, but he couldn’t move. He'd been distended from his ankles for quite some time, and all the blood had swum around and threw his brain. His eyes were bleeding from it, but through it, he saw the woman, and tried in vain to speak. Tell her to go, anything. Not to look at him like this.

 

A sudden terror lit through him. Police. Ambulances. Firemen. Too many questions. This… this all over the news. Raped, for days, by three men. Raped. Lionel Luthor would find out...his budding career would be over.

 

He almost didn’t care. He didn’t. He just didn’t want... want anyone to see him, like this. He tried to move... found he couldn’t. Tried again...lifted his arm an inch, and still couldn’t. Oh, Christ, Jesus, give me strength, please, find a way for me to get out of here, please, God, let me find somewhere quiet to die.

 

The landlady did the only thing she could do at first.  She promptly vomited.  Once her stomach was clear, she looked up.  "You poor boy... dear God, what happened to you?"  She hunted around the room until she came up with a knife, and sawed through the leather straps that had been holding him up.  Once he was safely down on the floor, the woman picked up the phone and instantly dialed 9-1-1.

 

He'd slid like freshly made jelly, the kind his mother always made. Strawberry. Red as blood. He slid right into his own blood, and had he anything left to vomit, he would have done what that power woman had. Thrown up, everywhere. "N...N..." His voice… his throat hurt so badly, from everything that had been shoved down it, and he could do anything but struggle to his hands and knees. Every movement was a spike of indescribable pain, and he felt blood inside of him, felt it... felt it sliding down his legs as he grabbed the leather that had held him up and climbed to his feet. Strength, the strength of God he knew, and he stumbled to the bed, grasping the first thing he could... the pair of slacks he'd been abducted in. Come was splattered all over them and he tugged, fiercely, sobbing with agony at every movement, even as the woman spoke into the phone. Leave, leave, leave, had to leave, get out of here, had to, had to.

 

The woman spoke rapidly into the phone, trying to still Morgan with one hand while giving her address and directions to the room.  "You've got to stay, young man, tell them what happened, they are on the way, you can't go, you're hurt!"

 

"Ha..." He shook his head desperately at the woman, desperate to leave, and grabbed a coat… his own coat, and his satchel which had been emptied of its things. He tied the long coat around his bare chest, head swimming, barely able to walk, let alone stumble. No shoes… he'd be alright. Didn’t need shoes. Needed to leave. Needed to find a quiet place to die. Because he was going to, as every person knew when their time had come... Morgan knew he would not see another sunrise in this life. He knew it, in what was left of his blood, and he'd be damned if the police and hospital would meddle in it. "'m k-kay." He rasped it, and as quickly as he could, he left.

 

The landlady continued to shriek into the phone, unable to stop him from leaving.

 

The events that happened after were like a dream. He remembered... leaving the seedy room... the seedy building. No shoes, but it didn’t matter. As long as his feet could carry him the rest of the way, he would be alright. Blood was soaking through his pants, which smelled of rotten sex.

 

A bus... he remembered a bus. Remembered standing in the crowd and not being looked at twice.

 

Then... Megan’s building. He didn’t even know if she'd be home, didn’t know if she would take him to a hospital, even as hard as he'd balked against it, didn’t know what she would do. What he did know was that she wouldn’t say no.

 

He needed to hide. Needed to find a place to hide. Hide from... from.... from everything. Hide, hide. The shame, the horror, the embarrassment, the fear.

 

He'd been raped for four days.

 

When again he was aware of his sense... he'd fallen against Megan's door, and he could not, could not straighten, even as hard as he tried.

 

Megan was on the phone when she heard the thump, and she jumped, startled.  "Jean-Pierre?  I'm going to have to call you back, there's someone at the door.  Um... Yeah.  Paris is good, leaving tomorrow?  Yeah.  That sounds great, and I'll get back to you in a little while about the arrangements.  Okay?  Au revoir."  Megan hung up the phone and went to the door.  Looking out the peephole, there was nobody to be seen, so she opened it the length of the security chain.

 

And nearly screamed when her brother Morgan slumped through the narrow opening. "Morgan!  Jesus, my God!  What the hell happened to you??"  She scrambled with the chain, ripping it off in her haste, and opened the door completely so she could crouch beside her brother.

 

He was covered in bloody welts, he was oozing blood from almost every pore in his body, and there was a puddle of it already forming in the hallway where he'd fallen.  "Morgan, Christ!  Are you even still alive?  Talk to me, brother, tell me you're still with me."  She picked up his shoulders and started tugging.  "Come on.  Come on, let's get you inside so I can call an ambulance."

 

"M..." His eyes opened up from his blue and black face, and he grasped her hand, with surprising fierceness. He'd gotten this far. He wouldn’t go back. "N...no...M...Me..."

 

Tears he hadn’t cried in three days suddenly started to shake and tremble from his cracked nose, and his throat, already tight, filled with tears he could barely breathe through. He grasped her… looked for her arms as he struggled to hold her. Begged, begged for family, for someone who understood, who could hold him through this… this nightmare. Who could just... remind him that there was good in this world, that this human horror didn’t happen, that he was still worth love and affection.

 

"Okay... Okay... sssh... calm down, I'm here, Morgan."  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.  "God, you're no bigger than I am, what the hell... Goddammit... who hurt you, brother?"  She didn't care that he was bleeding all over her.  "Come on... can you stand up?  Just a few steps, we'll clean you up in the shower.  Come on.  I'll help you."  She didn't let go of him, didn't let go of her grip on his waist.  "Jesus, Morgan... who did this?  Who tried to kill you?"

 

 He rose, slowly... grasping onto her as tightly as he could… stumbled... pressed himself against her. She wouldn’t hurt him. She'd let him die in peace. She was his twin sister, she knew him… she loved him, she'd help him now, when he needed her most.

 

~ * ~

 

And Dominic sighed, softly, gazing down at his Lindy with the tear tracks fresh on his face. "She helped me, that morning. She bathed me... bandaged me up, let me cry on her shoulder. I told her... she vowed vengeance, and police... but I knew, Lindy. I knew if the police got involved, my career was over, and that’s what those bastards wanted. They wanted me to crack and leave, wanted me to mar my own name so they might stay where they were. Working with them... it was almost impossible. But I must have done something right, because Lionel found out about Lawrence’s money laundering, and had him fired and sentenced, actually. He was in jail for almost a year. I took his place, and from then on... Lionel and I have worked, side by side. I’ve come to respect and admire him, and I think... he I as well. You could say I've loved him for almost fifteen years." A little smile.

 

Lindy wrapped her arms around her brother.  "No wonder Megan's always been so protective of you, my brother."  She rubbed his back carefully.  "I'm so glad those bastards paid for hurting you."  Her own cheeks were wet with tears.  "Oh, I am so proud of you.  You... you did what I couldn't, Morgan.  You went back to them, you faced them, and I am just... in awe of your strength.  I wish I were as strong and as brave, as you are."

 

"You are, my Lindy." He looked down at her, softly. "Baby, I've shared my deepest secret… now, if you're comfortable... you've got to tell me yours. Megan… she... she told me, a little of it, and said you all didn’t tell me...because of my own secret. Are you... are you comfortable with it, my Lindy?"

 

She nodded.  "Of course I am, Morgan.  I just... I couldn't burden you with any more than you were already carrying, when I saw how much it was weighting you down."  She snuggled into his arms.  "You--you know that Roddy was... abusive, yes?  He--he was more than that, beloved.  He was a complete... bastard."  She swallowed hard.  "I had had miscarriages--two, in fact--and Roddy... blamed me for all of them.  Said it was my fault because I didn't really want the baby."  She sniffled, inhaled deeply.  "He... he would beat me after I got home, so that I would know better the next time."

 

His eyes, which were filmy, grew more so, and dark with suppressed fury. "I always hated him, so very much. Everything inside me loathed that man." But he stayed quiet. This was her story to tell, and one he would hold her through, as she spoke.

 

Lindy swallowed hard.  "I know you did.  I should have listened to you."  She paused.  "After the second miscarriage, the doctor started me on Lovril, which was, at the time, the most effective birth control pill on the market.  Which is why it came as a shock to the doctor and I both when I went back after two months, and I was pregnant again."

 

He was quiet, still, gently stroking her hair between his fingers. His sister, his mother for all rights and purposes, beautiful and wonderful and caring and sweet--and WHY would anyone hurt her like this? Why would someone purposefully hurt his beautiful sister? What could, in a human being, happen to make them cause pain and suffering to people who were undeserving? "Megan told me." Quietly, into her hair. "She told me he'd...Roddy had..."

 

"He did.  He changed them, at the drugstore.  Someone... someone he was friends with worked there, and they did it for him.  Told them... he told them how desperate we were to have a baby, and what a horrible woman I was for denying him that.  So... they switched my medication."  She buried her face in his shoulder.  "I should have--should have known he did something, because a couple nights after I started them he... wanted to have sex with me.  I... I told him no, but he wouldn't listen to me.  He'd been drinking."

 

"He hurt you, my lovely." Pain for his sister, bright and hard in his heart, and Dominic held her tighter against him, eyes closing and squeezing. "He hurt you...baby, no." And oh, dammit, if he wasn’t going to give Lionel that man’s name. "Why...did you ever ask him why? Why he wanted a child so much?"

 

"No, I didn't--I didn't care.  But that... I think that's when Ellie was conceived.  I didn't want to tell him, but I couldn't exactly keep it a secret either.  So when the doctor got my blood tests back, and told me... I put it together and I went to Graham for help."

 

"I heard he beat him to a bloody shit." His voice was dark, and hard. "Lindy, let me tell Lionel. Let me give him Roddy’s name. Baby, let me, please."

 

"He--Lionel wouldn't care, Morgan."  Lindy shook her head.  "It's in the past."

 

"That’s where you're wrong." Softly. "I told him I wanted to talk to you, of a great wrong that had come to you, beloved. He... he begged me for a name. He likes you, very, very much..." He buried his face in her hair and held tight. "He says you're the only of the Senatori brood who accepts and likes him for being himself. He would do anything for me and mine."

 

"He--he'd do that?"  She held him tightly.  "Oh--okay.  Do it, Morgan.  I do like Lionel, he's wonderful to you, he's beautiful with the kids--Ellie goes on and on about her Uncle Weirdy Lion.  If--if he cares, then let him do it."  Her voice was quiet. "It'll--it'll be nice not to live in fear."

 

"I know. I know, my angel. I know." He closed his eyes tight. "He'll make sure he never hurts you again, beloved. He will. He wont kill him, if you say it...or he will, if you say it. If not, Roddy will never bother this family again, that I can assure you. If yes...you still live in peace. Tell me, baby. Tell me."

 

"Kill him, Morgan.  I want him out of my life, and Ellie's life, forever."  She looked up at him.  "He's--Roddy's the reason I'll never be able to give Ellie another little brother or sister.  She's all I've got, and I'm tired of living in fear that he'll come back and try to take my precious angel away."

 

He nodded, and shut his eyes tightly as he pressed his cheek to her hair. "It is done, my lovely."

 

And as he looked into the fire, holding his big sister… rocking her through tears they shared, he quoted softly. "There’s plenty of people who don’t like me... but since I’m all who love me, I've got to say I love myself. Sometimes it gets tough, but I can’t give up. Just take a deep breath, close my eyes, feel the love and give a smile."

 

Lindy sniffled and leaned her head on her brother's shoulder.  "Who wrote that, Morgan?  It's... beautiful."

 

"Destiny’s Child." His smile could have lit the room. "Pop band, though I must say, they've got the right idea going. As long as we've got our health, the people we love, and one another...there is nothing that can get in our way."

 

She laughed softly.  "Only you, my brother.  Only you could be so manly in some ways... and so stereotypically gay in others.  And I love every atom of it." 

 

Oh, at that he just laughed, grabbing her tight and hugging her as hard as he could. "I believe I shall take that as the best compliment anyone has ever given me."  

 

-fin-

 

go on to the next part