Valley of the Woods

Hey!

I had finals this week, so I'm sorry if my work isn't stellar. It's not like anyone reads this stuff anyways so whatever. Fuck. Eh, I love it anyways.

This is NOT a short jerk off at all. Its got FEELINGS and all that jazz. Fun.

Ok, so this is a work of fiction, and I have made slight deviations from reality in parts. Ok? Ok.

Let's start the story.

***

Nanao:

Over the next few weeks I was eased into consciousness.

I learned that after that first week, I had been asleep for nearly three weeks in a medically induced coma. The swelling in my brain scared the doctor, so I was made to sleep.

"Mr. Takeda," the doctor nodded to me as he walked in the room, "you should be good to leave in about a week. That is, if your seizures calm down to the normal rate."

"Thank you," I muttered, grasping my blankets in my small fists.

Dr. Silias came to stand next to my bed and smiled gently at me. He was an attractive man of about forty, with Indian features and a nice smile.

"The police are here to get your statement. They showed up a week ago, but you were in no condition to answer any questions, so the staff turned them away," his eyes were kind as he said this, "I know this must be a very difficult time for you, so if you need, just ask to stop and they will. I also have taken the liberty to give you an alias for you to go under."

I froze. Needless to say, i was anxious. Reliving the entire ordeal to people I barely knew...people who would judge me and not understand.

Gay rapes are almost never reported. Reason being, lots of men are embarrassed and emasculated, or the entire case is dismissed as a lie. People aren't likely to believe it when a man (a gay man nonetheless) claims he is raped.

I shuddered and started to hyperventilate.

I needed to calm down, but it was a terrifying concept. If I had my way, I would have taken my chances at home. Yeah, that sounds stupid but I hate people looking at me in pity or judging me.

"Nanao?" Mr. Silias asked in a concerned voice, "are you OK? Do you need a break?"

"No," I gasped, "I can do this," my entire form shook and I tasted metal in the back of my throat. I gulped dryly and took three deep breaths before looking up at Dr. Silias once more.

The doctor nodded understandingly and spoke, "I'll let them in then."

I watched with fearful eyes as he opened the door and let the detectives in. The moment they walked through I shot up like a rocket, fear and shock flowing through my veins freely.

There were three detectives, the first one short and dark, with small eyes and thin lips. The second man looked downright bored, his scrawny mousy features looked sharp and mean. It was the third man that caught my eye. Standing tall at around six foot three, his striking green eyes were unmistakable. His chocolate hair was longer now, sweeping around his strong, sharp jawline. His full lips were as tantalizing as ever, and I struggled to breathe.

His eyes showed no signs of recognition, and I felt my heart momentarily plunge into my stomach with disappointment. I then realized that it was a good thing he DIDN'T recognize me. It would have made this much more difficult. But that didnt mean I didn't ache at the sight of him.

***

Vampire:

The boy was small and thin, his eyes wide with terror from the moment we stepped into the room. I set foot into the room and he shot up in his bed, clutching his sheets for dear life. It was confusing, especially when I saw the glint of recognition in his dark brown eyes. My thoughts flashed back to a year ago, the day I met Nanao Takeda. My heart soared with hope momentarily, and I flipped open his file. I scanned the page for a name; Tanner Worren. Bitter disappointment flowed through me and I realized they didn't look as much alike as I had thought. Nanao was more emaciated, with wide blue eyes and longer black hair. This boy had his longish black hair tied into a bun that spilled into his face and brown eyes. He was thin, small and slightly malnourished, but not like Nanao had been.

I realized I had been drilling a hole in him with my eyes, and he looked just about ready to cry. Lonnie placed a nicotine yellowed hand on my arm and raised his pale eyebrow at me. Shaking my head, I buried my nose in his file while Lonnie and Cory made small talk with the kid to try and loosen him up. So far, he seemed very tightly strung.

My fingers flipped over to his profile.

He was twenty years old, and my eyebrows shot up while I looked between the boy and his age. He looked sixteen at most, but in reality he was only five years younger than me. Wow.

He worked at a publishing firm, and went to a small liberal arts school at night. He owned a small flat in the city and lived alone.

I looked up from the paper and noticed he seemed just as terrified as before. Lonnie and Cory were at a loss and stared at me for help. Nodding to them, I pulled up a spinny chair from the desk and sat, gesturing for the other two to leave. After they exited the room I pulled up next to Tanner's bed and leaned forward, trying to hold eye contact.

"So," I started softly, "can you tell me any of what happened?"

He started tearing up and I felt a ping in my chest, which was odd, because it goes against my beliefs to become emotionally connected with a victim. Makes the entire process more difficult than it has to be.

His frail hands shook as he started to explain how his car had died after he had gotten of work that day, and he decided to walk.

"It wasn't very far," he rationalized shakily, "just a few blocks. I thought I could still make it on time. It got really crowded and I fell. I got up and saw an alley that could take me almost directly there, so I decided to try and jump the fence at the end of the alleyway. I knew it wasn't a good idea," he seemed to get annoyed with himself as he spoke, "but I went anyways. Stupid, right? I got to the end, and I started climbing. The one thing that I really remember," he said with a bemused expression on his face, " is how damned cold my hands were. They were a light shade of blue and they got even colder as I reached the top. I felt someone come up behind me and I turned, realized what was going on and tried to climb faster. But it was just my luck," he laughed bitterly, "that I fell flat on my ass and he was able to get to me. I honestly wasn't sure what his motive was, ya know? Didn't know what he was going to do to me. After he threw me into a dumpster, I got this," he pointed to his broken nose and black eyes, "but I'm pretty sure I got this one when I fell the first time," he waved his broken arm gingerly and opened his mouth to speak again, "I heard him ask me if I was a faggot, and I just shook my head in hopes he would just leave me alone. However, if that was the case, I wouldn't be here right now. He said," Tanner gulped and a tear slid down his cheek, "he asked me if I liked dick so much, then taking his wouldn't be much of a problem, would it? Or something like that." He gazed at me pleadingly, "I have to go into detail for that part do I?"

"No, you don't, but I do need at least an idea of what happened," I explained, and he looked so relieved that he leaned back in his bed with a sigh.

"OK," he began again, "so after he said all that, he uh...he ripped open my pants and underwear. Then he...he pinned me down and raped me. He didn't use a condom. I didn't tell the doctors because its...embarrassing," he was blushing down to his neck and his chest heaved. I felt sick, but I tried to keep a professional front.

"I need you to try and give me a description of the assailant," I requested briskly, "I would also suggest getting tested for any possible STD's you may have contracted if they haven't already done that."

He nodded, twisting his fingers in his hair. My chest felt tight; that was what Nanao used to do. It seemed that every little thing I did, I couldnt help but think of my little blue eyed Nanao.

"He...he wore large black work boots," Tanner stuttered, "his hair was long and in dreads, with dark russet skin and nearly black eyes."

"Was he tall, short or...?"

"Tall," Tanner bowed his head a little, almost as if he was ashamed, "very tall. Probably about six foot four or something..."

I softened my tone and features, he was obviously distressed and confused, "Is there anything else about him you can remember? Something we can use to possibly ID him or help narrow the search?"

"Yeah, yeah there is," Tanner sat up straighter and pulled his hair back into a tighter bun, "he had a large tattoo covering most of his neck. It was of a naked woman, with long hair and really...uh...really large breasts..."

Tanner blushed and ducked his head. God he looked so much like Nanao when he did that...

"Oh!" He projected loudly, "he had a teardrop tattoo under his left eye and his right eye was slightly lazy."

I nodded, jotting his every word on to my crowded sheet of paper.

Finally, after about five minutes of writing down his physical description I stood. Tanner seemed hesitant, as if he didnt know how to proceed. I smiled, leaned over and took his small pale hand in my larger one.

"Thank you," I shook his hand and tired to let go, but he gripped mine for a few moments longer than necessary.

Standing awkwardly, I nodded in his direction and turned to leave, "we'll get back to you if there are any updates on the case Nanao," I froze with my hand on the doorknob. Fuck.

"Uh, uhm..." he sputtered, "I uh..thats um... not my name..."

He trailed off and I turned. He looked flustered and unsure. That struck me as odd; it seemed a bit much for a small case of mistaken identity. The one thing that really struck out to me, was the bright blush creeping along his cheeks just like that man I thought he was had done.

"I know," I smiled softly, realizing my fantasies were too good to be true, "Nanao was someone very special to me. I still love him."

Tanner had tears streaming down his face when he spoke, "thats so...sweet. Thank you Detective...?"

"Blithe. Adrian Blithe."

And with that I turned and left the room.I shut the wooden door with a soft click, and turned to find the doctor staring at me. That was odd. It wasn't a regular stare either, it was vaguely disapproving and almost...mad. I watched slightly slack jawed as the doctor approached me with a determined and confident gait. My muddled brain snapped to attention and I straightened my back, trying desperately to appear put together.

"Is everything alright?" I questioned, honestly curious of his blatant and immediate dislike of me.

"His heartbeat was going crazy back there," the doctor pursed his lips, "any ideas why, detective?"

"Well, Doc, the poor kid was just raped, and then nearly drilled to the wall being interrogated. No, I can't see any reason why."

I flushed; instantly chagrined. My sarcasm fucked me in the ass sometimes.

To my utmost shock, the doctor cracked a smile and a small chuckle spilled from between his tanned lips. He reached out a dark hand and enfolded my own within its grasp.

"I had a feeling we would get along, Detective Blithe. Now," he nodded graciously at a passing nurse, who proceeded to giggle and scurry away, "is there anything I can do to help the investigation?"

"Actually, yes," I realized, "I need to know about any preexisting conditions, and also any illnesses he possesses. If possible," I tacked on at the end, hoping to sound less demanding. Honestly, I really needed to quit doing stuff like that. It made me seem weak. Or perhaps, it made me seem trustworthy, after all the doctor seemed to brighten considerably at my obvious attempt to appear polite.

"Follow me," he instructed with a small, lingering smile.

We walked in silence for what felt like eons. What should have been a grim and depressing atmosphere was surprisingly bubbly. The nurses smiled and chatted with each other, occasionally pausing to grin widely at a patient before resuming an animated conversation with their colleague. As a child, I hated hospitals. The death that drifted through the hallways in a cold gust always seemed to seep underneath my skin to chill my bones. I could hear people wailing, screaming as they finally understood the meaning of true loss. I shuddered, remembering a woman, with hair like a flame. Her eyes were lifeless, dead and fish like. Until they landed on me. She shrieked, her eyes lighting with hysteria and she flung herself forward at me.

"No," I muttered under my breath. I pushed aside the memories and shifted my eyes in front of me, as the doctor with the kind green eyes opened a door for me. I nodded my thanks; my voice was still caught in my throat.

He sat behind a desk and smiled pleasantly.

"So," I croaked, "uh, if I could ask you a few questions about any disorders, illnesses, or diseases he may have possessed at the time of the rape," my voice became steadily stronger as I spoke, and I was filled with a sudden urge to know everything about this kid that I could. Which honestly shocked me; there had been no one after Nanao. Sure, I had gotten hit on by plenty of men and women alike but I never chose to act on those advances. I never felt the pull with anyone other than him. Until now I guess.

Dr. Silias sighed and leaned forward in his seat. He adjusted his horn rimmed glasses up farther on his nose. His eyes seemed to grow tired, and his face appeared to age years in a span of seconds. I gazed at him in wonder and his eyes bored deep into my soul, seeming to search me for something I was unaware of.

"This is the part I hate," he rubbed his temples and spoke professionally, "Tanner has a rare form of epilepsy, one that doesn't improve with one or two treatments of medication. As well as this, he has issues with the blood and lining of his stomach, which causes him to vomit blood when his body seizes. This can be excruciatingly painful for him, and at times he can even lose short term memories."

I sallowed dryly and tried to comprehend what I was just told. Everything reminded me far too strongly of Nanao. I pulled myself together and struggled to act in an eloquent manner.

"Do you think that his epilepsy may have had any significance during this situation? In other words; did it impact the situation in a way that would have been absent if he didnt have epilepsy?

"Yes," the doctor stated simply, "people who suffer from epilepsy are often in a constant weakened state. The strain from the seizures can be very taxing on the body. I would say that Tanner has the physical strength of an anorexic sixteen year old kid."

It made perfect sense. One could say that Tanner was the perfect target. Small, weakened, and trapped in an in closed space. It made me immediately suspicious. The fact that he was gay also wouldn't help his case. Homophobes were everywhere, and his attacker could argue that it was just kinky consensual sex. I snorted. In my line if work, I had seen just about everything. There was no way anyone could say this WASN'T a rape. His physical wounds, as well as emotional ones were evidence enough in my book. However, we still had to find the culprit, and hope this wouldn't turn into multiple people in Tanner's shoes.

I stood, leaning over to grasp Dr. Silias' hand briefly.

"Thank you for your cooperation, it is very much appreciated. I should be back within the week."

I tuned and strode out of his office. While walking past Tanner's room, I heard I high pitched scream of pain, and I burst open the door to find Tanner convulsing and twisting himself up in his sheets. I immediately dashed to his side and tried to remember everything I had been taught about seizures.

Loosen any tight clothing, especially around the neck. I quickly unwrapped the still thrashing and wailing boy. His hospital gown had ridden up to mid thigh, and the tie around his neck was becoming an issue. I gulped, untying the top string of his dressings and he gasped in air through his shuddering jaws.

I remembered something about lifting his head in case of him vomiting, so he could breathe. My hand darted out to draw the nearest trash can close. His long dark hair spilled out of its bun and stuck to his sweat drenched face. A few strands were tangled into his gaping mouth, and I moved them to the side while holding his head up.

Tanner opened his eyes, and I thought I saw a flash of blue right above his iris but dismissed it when he heaved and spewed blood from between his lips.

It was violent; a torrent of crimson sorrow flowing freely from his frantically moving lips. He coughed, sputtered twice, and drooped back into the pillow.

I sat there, stroking his damp hair and cleaning his sleeping face and chest with a wet washcloth. While I did so, I realized a good amount of the blood had sprayed on my hands and arms, making me look like a serial killer. Tanner had blood splashed across his alabaster face, and his plump lips were dyed red with his misery.

I stood abruptly when the shock wore off and I realized that I was standing in front of the most delicious banquet one could imagine.