ncrceo@ccinet.ab.ca


     Hello and good day!  Before you read on, there are a few things you should know.  One,
this is my first fanfic ever to be put on the Web, so any comments or suggestions would be much
appreciated.  Two, this story is rather dark.  I mean, Darien obviously didn't have an ideal
childhood, and I really wanted to emphasize that Darien had to overcome many obsticles to
become the man he is now.  Also, this story is rated "R" for disturbing scenes and course
language.  Well, if you're still interested, enjoy the story for what its worth...er, if its worth
anything...^_^

Thanks!  And now....




                            DARIEN:
                               16
                                
                   ~written by Sailor Hooze~
                       ******************


     "It is sin to kill a mocking bird..."




                            Prologue

     The room was dark.  The only light was the occasional bolt of lightning outside,
illuminating the room for split seconds at a time.  Rain beat down hard against the window in a
continuous rhythm, with no signs that it would soon let up.  One glance at the glowing, digital
clock declared it was now 3:47 AM.  
     
     A sigh...it was funny how sleep had become so unnecessary lately.

     Lazy, storm-coloured eyes kept close watch on the drowning city of Tokyo.  They hid
slightly behind dark bangs and remained unblinking for minutes at a time.  Even when a sudden
thunder rolled out from the heavens, he remained still as if it were mute.  Finally he became
bored of his staring contest and closed the curtains, blanketing the room in black.  His bare feet
hit the linoleum floor with a soft thud, and he crept on cat's feet toward the door.  Although he
may have well been blind, he had his living space memorized and managed to reach his
destination without even tripping over anything.  Opening the door carefully, as to make not one
sound, he peered out into the dimly lit hallway to make certain no one was near.  
     
	With the speed of a panther, and with the grace of one at that, he bolted down the
corridor with silent effort, unbreathing and stepping cautiously.  At last he reached a heavy,
metal door and pushed firmly on the bar to open it.  It did so with an echoing CACHUNK!  The
young man cringed when he heard someone in a nearby room stir, but continued through the
door and up a black flight of concrete stairs.  Only the railing kept him from falling twice, and
he finally stumbled up the last step and out yet another door.  He couldn't have said what had led
him up there that night, nor did he know why he came up there before.  Still, it was nearly a
relief to be there.  The rain was now coming down in a heavy shower, instantly drenching his
pyjamas.  The blue material stuck to his body and he slowly walked across the building's roof to
a ledge.  
     
	He carefully stood up on the two-foot wide slab and looked down; a five story plummet
into the parking lot.  Those stormy eyes began to burn with something...something that both
frightened and excited him at the same time.  Subconsciously, he knew his toes were inching
closer to the edge, but made no effort to stop himself.  He looked up at the sky, breathing
raggedly from his previous run, watching lightning dance across the clouded heaven and down to
Earth, and sometimes vise versa.  His eyes then fell back to the cement down below, and he
nervously licked his lips.  Everything seemed to be going in slow motion right now.  His
breathing became relaxed, his eyes dilated until the pupils nearly consumed the dark blue, and
his shaky legs became as solid as stone.  He stood there a long time, heart pounding in his ears,
for what seemed an eternity.  It was an unbelievable rush.  He fluttered back into reality when he
suddenly heard the opening of the door behind him.  He sighed, a quirky smile crossing his lips. 
He knew he was in trouble, and if you were gonna get in trouble, you might as well get in big
trouble.  
     "DARIEN!!" an older man's voice cut through the thunder like a knife, "What are you
DOING over there?!?  Get down this instant!!!"
     "Sure thing, doc!!" he hollered back, pretending like he was going to hurl himself off,
pausing right before he "jumped".  He looked back and saw the man's stunned expression. 
Darien laughed out loud.  "You actually thought I was going to..?  Get real!!"  He hopped down
onto the rooftop and casually made his way over to the man. 
     He grabbed Darien harshly by the arm, "Well if you WEREN'T going to jump, I'd like to
know just t why the Hell you were on that ledge!!!"
     Another hit of reality suddenly rushed through him.  What would he have done if Doctor
Gillian hadn't have come?  "Well, I was..."  God, it felt so awesome to stand up there.  He had
felt like he were invincible.  He felt as if no man could be his equal.  He felt like death ran and
hid from his mere presence.

     He wanted to feel that way again.

     "You were what?" the man demanded.
     Darien shrugged, "Nothing.  You wouldn't understand."
     Gillian sighed over exaggeratedly.  "Come, now." he said in almost a father-like tone,
"You're soaked.  Let's get you inside."  Darien nodded guiltily in agreement, and they made
their way back quietly into the orphanage.


                          

                      Chapter 1

                              
	Waking up to the sound of his alarm, Darien was alive at 7:30 that morning.  Darien sat
in his room in his jeans, shirtless, chewing on a thumbnail, contemplating what to do with this
fine Saturday.  He yawned rather loudly, stretching the kinks from his arms.  If Serena would
have seen him (or known him, for that matter), he would have looked painfully sexy.
     
	His hair was wet from a recent shower, hanging slightly over his grey-blue eyes.  He
stood up and walked slowly toward a full length mirror to examine himself.  His upper body was
still young, quite slim and not completely filled out like the man he would become, yet he had
that lean strength that he would retain.  He looked at his slightly defined pectorals, and then
lower to his rib cage, where he could see a few of those bruises he was waiting for yesterday. 
He'd gotten in a fight with one of the other boys, Tim, and had really nailed him.  Still, Darien
was aware of a few punches that connected with his own body.  His hands found his face,
gingerly touching a small gash from Tim's ring.  That one would take a while to heal...He took a
deep breath, pushing his hair back and letting it fall playfully over his eyes again as he exhaled,
and soon found himself wandering toward his closet.  Out of boredom, he did a hand-spring over
his bed in the process; practicing his karate, he told himself.
     He discovered a black turtleneck sweater and decided to compliment it with a white t-shirt over top, 
sporting an obscene message.  He turned on some music while he brushed his
teeth, his hair, and scrubbed his slightly bronzed skin with soap and water.  He made his bed,
placed some books away in a shelf, and happily threw his school uniform somewhere out of
sight.  Dancing over to the stereo, he turned it off, feeling good all of a sudden.  He decided not
to waste this feeling, especially when was rarely this happy anymore.  
     He smiled.  "I think I'll get some breakfast."

     Breakfast, for Darien, was sneaking out before anyone could make him eat the oatmeal
or whatever the orphanage had set out for him, and going downtown for some REAL food.  He
had climbed out his third story window, free falling into a pile of garbage bags full of donated
clothing, and taken off on his half-payed-for motorcycle.  The streets were already busy and full
of middle-aged people driving to work, but Darien easily, and obnoxiously, weaved in and out of
the traffic.  He sped around in the parking lot of the mall a bit before going inside to the eatery,
feasting on ramen, spicy sushi and an eggroll.  As he washed it down with a glass of fruit juice,
he couldn't help but think that something was out of place...that something just wasn't right.  For
once, it wasn't his conscience bothering him about something he should feel guilty for, but more
of an emptiness that not even that delicious food could fill.  He decided to shrug whatever it was
off, not wanting to spoil his mood.  
     He snooped through nearly all the stores that day; his favorite book store, Tip Top
Tailors (he really liked tuxedos but could never explain why), a few smaller, trendy clothing
stores, and bought some Manga at the comic shop.  He also bought some Anime stickers, as he
loved decorating his bike with them.  He soon found himself in and out of a music store, and
finally to a movie.  Even though it had no plot, the blood and sex compensated for it.  He had
always liked to do things solo; a boy who'd been alone all his life was used to doing things
alone, and that's the way things had always been for Darien.
     
     Darien cruised through downtown Tokyo at uncomfortable speeds, startling pedestrians
and some drivers he would every so often cut off.  A car horn honked at him, and he smiled
under the visor of his helmet.  He knew he was driving like a maniac, but he had no desire to
stop.  He loved the feeling of danger and the rush it brought.  A morbid curiosity, he had once
called it when explaining it to Doctor Gillian.  Still, no matter how many times he explained it,
he knew no one understood.  NO one could understand.  No one could experience the loneliness
he did.  This thought suddenly brought depression upon young Darien, and he began to go faster
out of frustration.  What he was going through, no doctor could bring him out of.  
     He was forced to come out of his daze when he nearly hit someone crossing the street,
and wiped out trying to dodge them.  The woman screamed and dropped her bag as he slid
toward her, the side of his bike grinding against the pavement.  He grimaced at the pain in his
leg, being crushed between the weight of his motorcycle and the cement, but finally ran out of
momentum, lying in the middle of the road.  
     He lifted his visor, chuckling painfully.  "Sorry, Miss!" Darien coughed.
     It seemed she wouldn't be the only person who wanted an apology, as six or so angry
drivers stepped out of their vehicles, unable to go anywhere because he was blocking the middle
of an intersection.
     "...." the woman just stared blankly at him, terrified at her close encounter with the front
tire of his bike.  Darien's vision cleared and he got a good look at her.  Oh my God, he thought.
This wasn't a woman, it was a girl!  A sweet little thing, she was; probably about eleven with big
blue eyes, a pink coat with a bunny on it, and cute blond pigtails that started with small balls on
top.  What were they called?  He didn't know...they looked like bumps on her head to him.
     Darien stood up, approaching the startled girl.  "Geeze, I'm really sorry.  I-" he turned
and noticed the pissy drivers around him.  "I never would have hit you, okay?  Remember that." 
With that, he hopped on his bike, revved the engine a few times and took off at twice the speed
he came in.  A bunch of the drivers simply shook their fists in his direction then returned to their
cars.  Little Serena just kept on walking, her innocence pushing the recent incident aside.

     Darien rode for two hours non-stop before finally resting at a park.  He wanted to make
sure he got far enough away that any witnesses wouldn't be able to find him for the authorities. 
He sighed, knowing his identity was safe...helmets were good for something, after all.
     He thought back to that poor girl; his actions nearly brought her in harm's way.  He threw
his helmet to the ground angrily, it rolling in the grass.  He ran a hand through his sweaty hair,
leaving traces of finger combing.  He had lost control again...not of the bike, but of himself. 
This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.  There was the time he nearly had a
head on collision with a bus, he'd been arrested twice for small crimes like vandalism and
trespassing, and started a fire at school..only partially by accident.  Darien was too young and not
yet mature enough to handle his raging emotions and had difficulty concentrating even when it
counted.  This loss of control got him into worlds of trouble, and lowered his self esteem.  God,
that girl...he could have killed her; ended her short life in the blink of an eye...and still...
     Everything was fine now.  He'd made it out okay, and no one else paid for his mistake. 
A jolt shot up through his spine, giving him that same high he got when he had brushes with
danger, as when he stood on the ledge last night.  Even though he knew it was wrong, he
couldn't help but think that he wanted more.
     "What's wrong with me?" Darien suddenly asked aloud, realizing what he was thinking. 
He was beginning to think he was some kind of phyco who got off on death.  His desire to live
on the edge was getting harder and harder to suppress.  He knew he would have to learn how
soon, or something horrible would come of it.  He sighed.  "I'd better get going."  He then
smiled to himself, "I'll have to apologize a little more formally later...hope I see her again."






                           Chapter 2
                                
     Darien found himself standing at the base of  a large structure, presumably at night since
he couldn't quite see.  He looked down at himself, almost jumping when he saw his attire had
changed.  He clutched the material in his hand to be sure it was real.  It sure felt real enough.
     "Wha?  A tux?" he asked himself.  It was then that he noticed there was something on his
face; it wasn't obstructing his view, but it was there.  He reached up to touch it.  It was a mask. 
"This is getting weird..." he added.  A thick fog covered his feet and kept him from seeing
beyond his personal space.  He felt cold...frightened even.  He simply stood there
dumbfoundedly.  What was he doing there?  What happened to his clothes and the orphanage?
     Suddenly, he felt a warm light behind him.  He turned toward it, feeling weight swinging
behind him.  "Oh, a cape too?  This gets better and better..." his voice echoed.  When the light
reached his face, it was nearly blinding.  He closed his eyes instinctively, then opened them and
blocked the beam with his hand.  Now that he could see, he realized that this bright, liquid light
was from that of the Moon, clouds now cowering away not to spoil its devine beauty.  The fog
seemed to dissipate with it, as Darien soon realized that he was on a shore of some sort.  He
nearly gasped when he saw a silhouetted figure standing by the crystal water, reflecting the
Moon's beauty back up to the heavens.  Darien was motionless and held his breath, worried that
maybe if he moved it would scare this person away.  As the clouds continued to part, he could
make out incredibly long, cascading hair placed in two golden pigtails, and the hem of a gown
flowing weightlessly in a gentle breeze.  Darien put two and two together and realized it was a
girl, from her height and figure, probably about his age too.  She had her back toward him,
staring out to sea, her hands clasped together in front of her chest timidly.  
     Darien became bolder, taking a step forward on what he could now recognize as marble. 
He could tell the woman sensed movement and he stopped.  The figure turned slightly to an
angle, tilting her head toward him.  His eyes widened, trying to see her face, but the moonlight
hid her appearance with a soft hue.  He could see only her sad, gorgeous eyes, as deep as the
ocean itself  letting tears carelessly fall, and her identity was guarded by the Moon, reflecting its
elegant light off of gold earrings and head dress.  Strangely, the gold piece that decorated her
forehead look disturbingly familiar.  Her soft disposition caused something inside of Darien to
melt.  His tense shoulders seemed to relax and his pupils dilated, finally adjusting to the
darkness.  A barely present mist hung in the air, much like that of a sauna, but was cool and
almost chilling.  Darien could do nothing but keep his eyes fixed on this girl, letting whatever
enchantment she was casting on him set in.  He felt spellbound; like a deer stunned by
headlights.  His insides twisted with a sensation completely unlike anything he'd felt before. 
And, for that moment, his emptiness had been filled.  
     He took another step forward, "You're...beautiful..." his voice was but a whisper.
     "The ginzuishou..." said the girl in the softest, most sincere voice he had ever heard.
     He blinked.  "The what?"
     "Please...find the ginzuishou..."  She sounded desperate.  The light from the Moon began
to intensify.  Darien tried desperately to keep his eyes open.  Peering through slits, he saw the
white light of the Moon consume everything until nothing but the outline of her body was
visible.
     "Wait!" Darien pleaded, outstretching an arm toward her.  He could do nothing as the
liquid, white light began to drown out the girl's image.  
     Then, right before everything turned to light... "Please...you must find it...the
ginzuishou..."

     "...silver crystal..."

     Darien's body flew upward into a sitting position, eyes wide open now.  He was
breathing hard, his heart beating madly.  It took him a good minute before he finally realized he
was back at the orphanage in his bed.  He pushed his hair back, damp with sweat like the rest of
him.  His breathing was slowing, but still irregular. 
     He stood up, tossing his tangled sheets from his body.  "Man, I need some air!"  He
stumbled to the window and opened it as far as it would go, nearly leaning his head out of it.  "A
dream?  That's all it was?"  He almost felt disappointed by this realization as the emptiness
again set in, but soon began to feel silly.  Of course it was a dream, he thought.  He could even
explain it.  The girl; same hair as the little munchkin he nearly ran over.  Silver crystal?  He
figured he'd been reading too much Manga lately.  Yes, that was it.  End of discussion.
     So why did it feel so familiar?
     Darien pulled his head out of the window, wiping moisture from his face.  He closed the
glass, now feeling uncomfortably cold.  It had suddenly sunk in just how tired he was, and he
drug himself slowly back to bed.  His lead body dropped down on the mattress and his sleepless
eyes found his clock.  4:48 AM.  Although he normally couldn't care how much sleep he got,
tonight seemed like a good time to catch up on those hours.  Retangling himself in the sheets, he
yawned, and closed his heavy eyelids.

     It was 8:00 AM when Doctor Gillian made Darien get up and eat breakfast at the
orphanage.  Obviously, he was tired and not too thrilled about eating bland porridge or Lucky
Charms (even though they were magically delicious), but had no other choice.  Besides, he was
just too fatigued to argue.  He hadn't slept at all since the dream.
     Darien sat down at a large, white table in the cafeteria while other young girls and boys
stared at him almost hatefully.  The atmosphere was pretty much like that of school.
     Grade 10.  Darien hated it almost as much as he hated the orphanage...not that he hated
the orphanage itself, but the people around him.  He'd go to his usual day at school, putting up
with the actions and comments of people that Darien professionally categorized as "Assholes",
and end up back at the shelter, where he had to endure the worst end of it.  Darien wasn't stupid;
he knew that everyone got picked on at one time or another, but the other residents at the
orphanage were different.  Most of their parents gave them up for whatever reason (probably
because they had yet to perfect birth control in the seventies), where as Darien's parents had
apparently loved him until they died.  The other young orphans were jealous of the fact that he
wasn't given up, and that he was there simply because he had no where to go.  It wasn't his
fault...and what did it matter?  He couldn't remember anything about it anyway.
     One of the cooks placed a bowl of Mini Wheats in front of him.  Darien looked up at her,
as if to ask "why?", but instead asked if he could have some tea.  The older woman, tight faced
and scrawny, nodded emotionlessly, and returned to the kitchen to prepare it.  As he waited,
spooning mushy globs of wheat cubes and watching them fall back in the milk, he began
thinking about his dream again.  He didn't remember much now; only that he was wearing a
tuxedo and there was mist or something.  He smiled, thinking what a strange dream it must have
been.  His short attention span then changed the subject to what kind of trouble he could get
himself into today.  He decided that maybe he'd try climbing up the side of an old building he'd
seen a few days back.  Yes, that would prove to be an hour or so of enjoyment and satisfy his
compulsiveness.
     Once it was set in front of him, he drank his tea quickly and headed for the door, only to
be stopped by Doctor Gillian again.  Ahh, Doctor Gillian.  Now there was a respected man. 
Pretty much everyone liked him, yet still feared his firm manner to some extent.  Darien,
however, could often bring out the side of Gillian no one else was lucky enough to; he could
make the old man laugh.  Someone could march naked around the orphanage in pink bunny
slippers and a striped tie singing the Oscar Myer Weiner Song, and he wouldn't even cracked a
smile.  All Darien had to do was do a lame impression of Cassablanca and Gillian was
practically roaring with laughter.  Darien could never figure out why he was so funny.  Gillian
once told him it was because he didn't have to try, he just was.  
     Still, Darien had noticed a change in the doctor within the past year or so.  It started
about the same time Darien began to acknowledge his parent's death and the feelings that came
with it.  Gillian started to become a little more strict and watchful of him.  Gillian used to let
Darien out all day if he so chose, no questions asked.  Now he couldn't go near the door without
a full explanation of what he was doing and where he was going.  Darien felt himself growing
farther away from him, and it was quite frustrating.  Gillian had been there for him since the
beginning.  Now he felt like he barely knew him.
     "Darien, were you given permission to leave yet?" he asked in a rather dark tone.
     He rolled his eyes.  "Can I go out, Sir?" he asked with little to no enthusiasm.
     Gillian frowned, coughing slightly.  "Darien, I have been trying to get you to open up for
the past three years."
     "Can't say you haven't changed." he retorted.
     The old man's eyes softened a bit, "There was a time when you and I were almost like a
father and son, and then you shut yourself off."
     Darien couldn't have agreed more, so why had everything changed?  Helplessness
flooded through him, causing him to put up his defenses.  "How would *I* know what a father
and son are like?!  No matter how hard I try to remember, as far as I'm concerned I never HAD
one.  Can't you just leave me alone?"
     The doctor seemed angry again.  "I'm sick of trying to help you with your problems when
you don't seem to want to solve them.  Fine.  Go, do as you please.  You know as well as I do
that some day you'll be on your own, and you'll WISH you'd had someone to lean on."  He
turned sharply on his heel and walked swiftly away from Darien.
     "Fucker." Darien said through his teeth, long after Gillian had rounded a corner.  He
swung the front door open and slammed it behind him.

     Gillian watched from a window as the young boy hopped on his bike again and noisily
drove off, squealing the tires and visibly upset.  The old man sighed to himself, shutting the
blinds and sitting down in his office chair.  He brought a hand to his chest, placing it over his
heart.
     "It'll catch up to you, young Darien.  Probably sooner than you think..."

     An hour proved not long enough, as Darien was still trying to climb the wall of that old
building.  He fell twice, about a six foot drop and then a little higher, but he was determined to
do this.  I'm gonna win, he kept telling himself.
     He was about half way up the side of the six story, abandoned office building when he
felt his arms buckling.  He pulled himself up to sit on a window sill and rest.  Darien sat there a
long time, taking in the sights of the city in the mid morning.  The smog was actually not as bad
as normal, and he could see the blue sky.  He might have been happy, except for the anger that
still filled him from his encounter with Doctor Gillian, and the fact that he had school tomorrow.
     The anger went deeper than that, however.  Depression was a feeling Darien experienced
every day of his life.  He was literally alone in the world and there was no denying that.  Maybe
that's why he did the things he did, like climbing up the side of a building and riding his
motorcycle at average speeds of 70 to a hundred kilometers an hour in rush hour traffic.  Maybe
he felt like he had nothing to lose, because nothing was exactly what he had.  Maybe he couldn't
have cared if the world ended simply because it had already ended the day that car veered off
over that cliff and took his parents.  When he was a little boy, he was still too young to
understand his burning emotions, but now he could identify them; Confusion.  Fear.  Anger. 
Grief.  Depression.  Hurt.  Sadness.  Hopelessness.

     Emptiness.

     Those were the names of the enemy, and the enemy was on the winning side.  Darien was
losing at an internal battle, wounded and outnumbered nine to one.  He sat on that sill until noon,
staring at the city and all of its beauty.  Toddlers being carried by their parents, some couples
holding hands and kissing, other couples gathering crowds with their arguing.  Elderly folks
looking in candy stores with their grandchildren, and young boys skipping happily down the
sidewalk with their friends.  Darien shook his head absent-mindedly.  How these people took so
much that they had for granted.  Such petty arguments over silly things like rumors and material
things.  He had seen people tell their parents that they hate them because they couldn't do as
they please, even though it kept them safe and out of trouble.  Hell, if Darien had parents he
knew he wouldn't have been so out of control.  Hating one's parents; now that was a phrase that
baffled Darien.  He would have given his own life if his parents could have survived.  At least
then he could have died knowing the people who loved him.  He would have given the world to
get his parents back, were it his to give (and unbeknownst to him, it was!), but had to live with
fact...the fact that they were gone, and their memories died with them.  
     "Damn..." he whispered.  "I wish...I wish I could remember..."
     Those stormy eyes began to rain, his vision becoming blurred with his tears.  He had
bottled the misery up too long to deal with it.  He let loose and cried, hot tears burning down his
flushed cheeks.  Darien buried his head in his arms, shaking with sobs.  He hadn't cried since he
had scraped up his leg bad trying to do stunts on a BMX when he was twelve.  He remembered
looking at his shin, the flesh all torn and bleeding, sitting painfully in the dirt.  Doctor Gillian
had helped him back to his feet and into the shelter to bandage him up.  He recalled Doctor
Gillian asking what happened.  Darien remembered his response with crystal clarity; "I don't
know, I guess I lost control."
     Slowly, his crying subsided, sobs turning into small hiccups.  His chest hurt from it, and
his eyes were red and dry.  Soon he was calm again, calm enough to climb back down the wall. 
Maybe he'd climb another day, but right now he had too much on his mind.  He was beginning
to realize that he couldn't go on like this, and it was time he got a handle on things.

     That became his project.





                           Chapter 3


                                
     "...the ginzuishou..." 

     Darien had woken up to that same dream for the sixth time in two weeks.  Each time he
began to remember more, little by little.  Each time he'd see that girl and feel whole, then would
open his eyes and be lost in that empty abyss.  Darien was beginning to see it more and more as a
puzzle rather than a reoccurring dream.
     This time, it was about 5:30 AM when he came out of it.  He sighed, knowing it was too
late to go back to sleep that early, Thursday morning.  Wearing merely boxers, he opened his
door and trekked down the hallway to one of the bathrooms.  He felt like having a shower.
     The hot water sprayed down on his back and shoulders like small needles, a relaxing and
therapeutic feeling, and way less expensive than acupuncture.  He breathed in the steam around
him, dense and condensing against his skin.  He lazily washed his hair and soon found himself
feeling lively.  Turning off the faucets, he grabbed a towel and dried his hair with it, then
wrapped it around his waist.  A quick dry-off and the brushing of teeth signified he was finished
there, and he put on his fluffy housecoat to return to his room.  He passed a few of the other
orphans who had just gotten up, smiling as they stared in awe at his bear paw slippers.  No
matter how lousy he felt in the morning, the commotion he caused with those slippers always
gave him something to grin about.  He returned to his room, putting on a new pair of boxer
shorts and his school uniform.  He had on black pants, white dress shirt, school jacket and a
black tie.  He looked in the mirror, striking a pose.  He then made a face at himself, figuring he
looked better in a tuxedo, like in his dream.  He was surprisingly amused at his face making, and
began making obscene gestures to himself.
     "You lookin' at me?" he asked his reflection.  "Well, of course you are...there's no one
else here!" he snickered.
     "Well, he could be looking at ME." Gillian said behind him, startling Darien half to
death.  Darien blushed noticeably, feeling rather stupid.  The doctor looked as if he was trying
not to laugh.  "What were you doing there, lad?"
     Darien's quirky smile kicked in.  He motioned to his reflection in the mirror again, "This
guy was tryin' ta start something with me...hold me back!"  He pulled his fist back, acting like
he was going to hit the glass.
     Doctor Gillian chuckled under his breath, something he hardly ever did anymore.  He
then stopped, coughing softly with a hand on his chest.  "Oy, what a nutcase you are.  Anyway, I
noticed you were up a bit earlier than normal."
     The young man shrugged.  "Well, I haven't been sleeping very well in the past while. 
There was no sense in trying to catch some shut eye an hour before I would have to get up."
     Gillian seemed a bit taken aback by how open Darien was all of a sudden.  Normally he
would have gotten an answer somewhere along the lines of, So what?  Now you're getting mad
at me for NOT getting up late?', or sometimes he wouldn't even speak at all.  He then looked
concerned.  "Oh?  Not sleeping well?  Why not?"
     Darien forgot how good it felt to openly tell people what was on his mind.  He bet when
his parents were around they could barely shut him up.  Gillian talking to him like this made it
feel like the days when they were good friends.  Still, it made him feel oddly violated, so he
decided not to tell Gillian too much.  "I dunno...just need a new pillow or something..." He
concluded that the dream would be his secret.  "Anyway, I'll be downstairs for breakfast in a
minute."
     The old man cocked an eyebrow, "You mean you'll do it willingly?"
     Darien smiled.  "Better that than you dragging me down there by the ankles."
     "Okay, then.  See you in a few minutes."  The doctor turned around and closed the door
on the way out.  "A strange boy, that one is..."

     An apple and sandwich seemed to give Darien the energy he needed that morning.  He
had always had difficulty handling his random emotions, but it seemed to be getting worse in the
past few weeks, even with his extra effort to control them.  Darien decided to walk that morning;
he always liked walking places every now and then.  With school, he was in no hurry to get
there, so walking was a much better idea than taking his bike.  Along the way through town he
began contemplating his dream.  What significance did it have?  He knew that dreams weren't
all gibberish, no matter how crazy they could get.  They were made up of thoughts in your head,
and he kept trying repeatedly to figure it out.  He laughed a bit on a brief thought that maybe he
was insane, and these dreams were the start of pre-insanity.  
     "Maybe one night I'll wake up in someone's driveway with a severed foot in my hand."
he said to himself, shaking his head at his own morbid humor.  
     His fascinating thoughts subsided when a voice called out to him.  "Darien!"
     "Hey!  Andrew!"  Darien ran swiftly across the road to meet up with his friend.  
     Young Andrew, dark blond with green eyes, smiled happily at him.  "Finally, you won't
be almost late!"
     "Yeah, yeah." Darien sighed.  "Let's get going then so we can prove you right!" he said,
and the two began walking.
     Andrew was his best friend...at least his only REAL friend.  He'd never turn his back on
Andrew, and Andrew would never turn his back on him.  They'd gone to school together since
his accident, and had been good pals ever since.  Anything they did on a school day, they did
together.  They occasionally hung out at the mall, threw rocks at ducks in the park, enjoyed
sucking down a grease-ball burger from McDonald's every now and then, and wasted their
change on impossible games at the arcade.  Darien constantly tried to master the art of getting
the claw to pick up the toy he wanted (not that he ever got ANY toy, for that matter), and
Andrew would sit glued to a racing game that he always lost at.  Andrew loved the arcade more
than any other hang-out spot, and Darien would laugh, saying that if he liked it that much he
should work there.  
     "Tim's been looking for you lately." Andrew abruptly mentioned, a hint of concern in his
voice, then looked forward as if he wanted the subject to end right there.  
     Darien raised an eyebrow.  "Oh?  Let me guess; he wants to go for a second round, huh?"
     Andrew nodded wearily.  "That's the word at school...I think he's really pissed that you
kicked his ass in front of our Math class." he suggested, remembering how shocked the teacher
was that day.
     Darien pointed to his half-healed gash on his upper cheek, "He's not the only one that
left with a bruise or two.  Besides, he started that mess, and I'll be damned if I'm not the one to
finish it."  Darien frowned.  "If he wants to start something again, I'm all for it."
     "C'mon, Darien!" Andrew pleaded.  "I really don't think you should.  This time he might
bring friends, and you KNOW you're already this close to getting suspended..." he visualized
how close with an inch of space between his fingers.
     "Look, Andrew..." Darien started, "Yeah, I know all that.  But you also know as well as I
do that once he finds me, he's gonna start some shit.  I'm not going to stand there and watch him
kick my ass, okay?"
     His friend looked like he was genuinely worried.  "The last thing I want is for my best
bud to get beat up and then kicked out of school." he looked at Darien.  "Just say you won't fight
him?  Just walk away.  Don't listen to him, and no one will get hurt." 
     Darien was about to say something, but Andrew was right.  He'd always been the
passive-resistance type out of the two of them, kind of shy and sometimes a little bit ditzy. 
Darien, on the other hand, was the smooth-talking aggressive type.  He could keep his cool under
lots of pressure and had a poker face that professional gamblers would have killed for.  Still, he
was easily persuaded into fights, but only after his enemy threw the first punch.  It was Andrew's
influence that kept him level headed.  Andrew tried hard to keep him out of trouble and often
did, and Darien realized that there was little he could do for him to return the favor.  Now he
finally could pay Andrew back, and it would benefit the both of them.
     He sighed.  "Okay, I won't fight him."
     A loud sigh forced itself out of Andrew's mouth.  "Good."  They shook on it, making it
virtually a pact with Andrew knowing Darien was a man of his word.  Darien smiled back,
assuring his friend that he would do what was right...

     ...as long as he could...

     School dragged on at its usual pace; slow and antagonizing.  Although Darien would
have rather been sucking the poison out of snake bites, he was a brilliant student and did his
work during class so he had time to himself after school.  He would sometimes shake his head at
the slackers and say, "If you really hate school, why not get it over with instead of getting held
back another year?"  He rarely got an answer.
     Lunch was only minutes away, just another blip of freedom that he could enjoy.  Not only
was it a brief escape from the prison they called the classroom, but Darien was hungry.  He eyed
the clock wearily, watching the second hand tick silently.  He stared at it so long he could have
sworn it started going backwards, but he quickly blinked, sending him out of the daze.  He put
his head down on his books disappointedly, hoping that time would feel sympathy for the poor,
starving boy with no parents and a miserable life.  Melodramatically, he thought of himself as an
Oliver Twist.

     "Aww..." Sailor Pluto shrugged, "What the Hell..."

     Immediately the bell rang.  Darien's head jerked upward, surprised at how the past four
minutes went by.  His flung his binders and textbooks into his bag and leapt out of his seat,
dashing for the door, bumping into Andrew on his way out the door.
     "C'mon!" Darien urged impatiently.  "Hurry up!  I'm starving!"
     Andrew was fumbling his books away while trying to keep up with his friend, "Wait! 
Geeze, Darien!"  He finally got his act together when outside,  and attempted to catch up to
Darien, but he had quite the head start.  "Darien, would you...UUGHHH!!!"  He yelled
frustratedly and finally stopped under a tree outside where Darien was already unpacking his
food.  "What was THAT all about?!" 
     Darien cocked an eyebrow, stuffing a piece of sushi in his mouth, "So now I have to
explain why I need food?" Darien chewed quickly, swallowed, then put on a mocking
expression.  "You see, mammals do this thing called cellular respiration, where the consumption
of plants and smaller organisms are required to produce nutrients and-"
     "I can never get a straight answer from you, can I?" Andrew said, rolling his eyes with a
chuckle.
     "Flan." Darien replied rather professionally.
     Andrew sat down beside him, ignoring his friend's nonsense, opened his small lunch and
pulled out a pair of chopsticks.  He was about to take a bite of shrimp when he stopped.  "Did
you see that new girl in class?"
     Darien smiled.  "I ALWAYS notice the new girls, remember?  What's her name...Rita?"
     Andrew blushed a bit.  "Yeah...that's her.  Uh, I hope you don't mind, but I told her
where we usually sit.  She'll probably join us for lunch."
     "No problem."
     As if on cue, a girl coyly approached them.  "Um, hello again, Andrew.  Is it okay if I sit
here?"
     Darien took this opportunity to observe the young woman thoroughly.  His eyes trailed
greedily up her long legs, passed her knee-length blue skirt, paused a moment on her small, but
proportioned breasts hiding behind a large red bow, and to examine her moist lips and almost
sad eyes.  He smiled, "By all means, Rita..." he rolled her name off his tongue, almost enjoying
being able to say it.
     Andrew almost grimaced as she sat down delicately between them.  He knew what
Darien was up to, and he didn't like it.  Darien had always been able to get the girls to swoon at
his feet; after all, Darien was  mysterious, smooth, and had "those gorgeous blue eyes" the girls
always said.  If they both liked a girl, Darien had a hundred percent chance of getting her first. 
Andrew was too shy to do things as boldly as his dark-haired friend, and usually found himself
envious of Darien's charisma.  In short, he was a tad jealous.
     Rita blushed rather noticeably.  "So, what do you do in this part of Tokyo for kicks?"
     They told Rita where they liked to hang out, deciding not to mention the duck bashing,
and the things they'd done, save mooning all of the city from the Tokyo Tower (something that
amused Darien endlessly).  Rita seemed genuinely interested, giggling at what Darien described
as their wacky antics', then confessing he didn't even like the word wacky'.  Andrew discussed
his desire to become a "doctor-type-person, probably a surgeon", and Rita spoke of her interests
in archeology and insects.  Upon the subject of occupations, Rita asked what Darien was going
to do when he was out of school.
     Darien shrugged, "Dunno.  I don't really expect to live that long."
     The other two blinked.
     "Okay, fine." Darien sighed.  "Based on the theory that I live to be at least twenty, I plan
to take over the world." he grinned.
     Andrew laughed, "Sure, Darien...give me a call when you're the King of the World, and
I'll come over for tea."
     
     For the next twenty minutes or so, the three enjoyed their conversation and silliness. 
Darien could noticeably see something whenever Rita looked at Andrew, and vis versa.  There
was a spark.  To himself, Darien silently decided not to peruse Rita; he felt that interfering with
one's destiny was wrong.  Besides, now that he thought about it, Darien couldn't imagine being
with someone like her.  He smiled to himself, knowing he had a certain fascination for blonds. 
He then thought of his dream again.  "I wonder if I'll ever see her face..." he said quietly.
     "Pardon?" Andrew asked.
     Darien came out of his own little world, feeling a bit out of sorts.  "Huh?  Oh!  I said
Rita, have you ever been to that place'?" he covered, pointing to the Tokyo Tower in the
distance.
     "Once, on a school trip." she smiled.  "You see, it was-"
     She might have finished, but the sudden presence of three students stopped her.  They
seemed to loom ominously over them, making ignoring them utterly impossible.
     It was Tim, and he brought friends.
     Darien sighed angrily, "Yes?"
     "Don't play dumb with me, boy." Tim spat.  "You know why I'm here."
     Darien was going to say something along the lines of, "Look, I don't care HOW much
you want to pay me, I'm just not in to that sort of thing.", but instead he shrugged and said,
"Okay, I DO know why you're here, but you should know that you're wasting your time."
     Rita seemed edgy.  "Andrew..." she mouthed, "What's going on?"
     Andrew didn't need to answer, the look on his face told her everything.
     "I'm not leaving until you fight me, Orphan Annie." Tim declared.  Darien stood up after
quietly finishing an eggroll.  
     "I won't fight you.  There's nothing more to say." he said firmly. Andrew sighed in relief
to see that Darien still remembered the promise.  I won't lose control, he thought, I'll do it for
everyone...
     Tim seemed to be getting quite angry.  "Either you fight me, or you can stand there while
I kick your ass."
     Darien laughed, then opened his arms almost in acceptance.  "Knock yourself out, but
keep in mind you won't prove anything by beating up someone who doesn't fight back."
     Tim thought about this a moment, then pulled up Andrew by the jacket, then motioned
for his friend to hold back Rita.
     Darien now seemed concerned.  "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice rather
sharp.
     Time grinned.  "Here's my final offer, punk.  Either you fight me, or we'll see how well
your buddies hold up against me and the boys."
     "You're kidding." Darien breathed.
     "Try me." said Tim.





                          Chapter 4

                                
     "You are LOW." Darien hissed, eyes narrowed and fists clenched.  "You would actually
bait me by threatening to beat up people who have nothing to do with this argument?"
     Tim smirked.  "Yeah, well, they ARE your friends.  I guess that's good enough a reason
to drag them into this." 
     Darien's eyes expressed hurt, visually apologizing to his friends.  He didn't know what to
do.
     "Well?" demanded Tim, pulling his arm back to imply he was ready to hit Andrew. 
Andrew closed his eyes shut tightly, awaiting the large knuckles to contact his face.
     Darien stood there in half a fighting stance, unable to decide what his next move should
be.  On one hand, he wanted really badly to beat the crap out of Tim.  On the other hand, he
made a promise with Andrew.  On the other hand, he tried to back down, but Tim wouldn't stop. 
On the other hand, he could get suspended.  On the other hand, by not fighting he was putting
others in danger.  On the other hand...

     ...there was no other hand.

     Darien took a bold step toward his opponent, burning with an anger that started in the pit
of his stomach and radiated through his eyes.  If there was one thing that everyone knew about
Darien, is that his eyes could answer a challenge without him saying a word.
     Tim's grin widened, and he practically flung Andrew back down into his spot.  He
motioned to his friend to do the same with Rita.  "So, you ARE gonna fight me after all. 
Perfect."
     Darien gritted his teeth.  "Yeah, well I always enjoyed a laugh, you pussy."
     "Fuck you, Goth."  Yes, Darien had been labeled a Goth.; a Satan-worshiping self-mutilator who 
only listened to industrial music.  Not that he was, but they assumed it for the sole
reason that he just liked to wear black.
     "Ahh...I see you've figured me out." he answered sarcastically, nodding his head lightly. 
"Now you know of my unholy powers.  Shucks.  Well, I guess I'll just have to sacrifice you to
my master."  
     Before the chaos began, Darien caught a quick glimpse of a sorry Andrew, and he briefly
exchanged the mutual feeling with a sad smile.  "Sorry, pal..."
     Tim inevitably threw the first punch, Darien barely dodging it.  He responded with
bringing his knee up to contact with Tim's stomach.  The bully stumbled backward a bit,
catching his breath, but was soon back in Darien's face.  Tim unexpectedly grabbed hold of
Darien's tie and pulled, half strangling him and giving him a clear shot at Darien's face.  Darien
felt woozy as Tim repeatedly punched him, but somehow gathered enough strength to ram an
elbow into Tim's side.  Both of them took a few steps back to plan their next move.
     Darien nursed his left cheek, feeling his eye swelling a bit.  By now there was a large
crowd around the two of them, urging it on.  Darien hated that; even if Tim might have decided
to stop there, he would refuse to back down from an audience.
     Tim, for his part, seemed to be getting the crowd hyped as well as himself.  Breathing
heavily, he looked Darien in the eye, "I'm gonna take you down."
     Darien removed his tie, not wanting to fall for the same thing twice.  "If you get me
down, it'll be when I trip over your fucked-up, mangled body."
     The crowd ooooo'ed.  Andrew and Rita were stuck behind everyone else, and could do
nothing to stop it.
     Rita looked frantic, "Maybe we should get the principal?"
     "No!" Andrew pleaded, "Darien will get suspended for sure!"
     "He'll get suspended anyway when a teacher finds this." she argued, "If we get someone
now, maybe we can save Darien a few bruises!"
     Andrew realized she was right.  Nothing was going to save Darien now.  "Okay, let's go."
They ran off, not even noticed by anyone else.
     Meanwhile, back in the "ring", Darien was in the process of delivering a roundhouse to
Tim's head.  He fell over, but was up on his feet in a few seconds.  Darien realized that Tim
wasn't looking so good right now, and almost felt sympathy for him.  Darien's defensive stance
relaxed a bit.  
     "Look," Darien started, breathing hard, "I didn't want to fight you, nor do I want to now. 
Why don't we both just stop and call it even?"
     "Oh, no!" Tim yelled, "You're not getting away THAT easily.  Boys!"  It was then that
Darien was reminded of Tim's two pals, for they both came up behind him, grabbing him by the
arms and holding him back.  The crowd was rioting by now.
     "Fuck you!" Darien shouted, trying to pull free.  "What the HELL is this?!"
     Tim cracked his knuckles, stepping forward.  "I call it payback."  What Darien felt next
was three hard punches to the ribs.  Tim stepped back to watch Darien suffer.  Darien might
have shouted out of pain, but instead spat up some blood, lowering his head.
     Winded, Darien said something, but it was to faint for anyone to hear.  Everyone dropped
into dead silence.
     Tim walked up to Darien, who was practically being held up by his two bodyguards by
now.  He had a confused look on his face.  "What?"
     Darien was breathing raggedly, and tried saying it again, but still it was too muffled.
     "What's he trying to say?" said Tim, rather annoyed.
     Darien's head shot up at Tim, causing him to jump a bit.  Darien's eyes shone evilly. 
     "I said, now it's my turn, asshole."
     He slipped out of his school jacket and out of his opponent's grip, delivering an elbow to
each of their faces and a right hook to the ribs.  Now it was just him and Tim again.  Tim
seemed scared, and immediately began throwing wild punches at Darien, who simply side
stepped and clothes-lined him with his arm.  Tim hit the ground painfully, gasping.  Darien stood
hatefully over him, giving Tim a swift kick in the side.  He yelped, and Darien picked him up by
the tie.  Tim stood on rubber legs, dizzy and frightened.
     Darien scowled, now face to face with his enemy.  It didn't even seem like he noticed the
small amount of blood trickling from his mouth, the gash in his cheek from Tim's infamous ring,
or that his eye was starting to bruise.  "If I gotta look like shit, you're going to with me."  Darien
pulled off Tim's ring and put it on his own hand.  He pulled his arm back and brought it forward,
slamming into Tim's face with full force. Tim spun from the blow, falling down on his face. 
When he got up, he was screaming.  Darien sighed, as he saw the principal coming out of the
school and looking around.
     "My nose!" he shrieked, "You broke my FUCKING NOSE!!  I'm gonna kill you!!"  Tim
spoke the truth, for when he turned around, it was definitely out of place and bleeding rather
satisfactorily to Darien.
     "It's over." Darien announced.
     Tim leaned against a tree, "N-no!  I'm gonna-"
     "It's over." Darien said, eyes closed.  And, as a visual and almost metaphoric way of
finalizing his words, he threw Tim's ring high in the air and on top of the school.  When his eyes
opened, he expressed sincere guilt that even Tim acknowledged.  Not only had he broken his
promise with Andrew, but now it was only a matter of time before he got in trouble for it. 
Everyone watched in sad fascination as Darien unbuttoned his blood-stained dress shirt to
examine his chest.  There didn't appear to be any broken ribs, but the flesh was red and bruised,
bleeding where Tim had managed to get his ring.  The pain was beginning to set in; Darien could
feel it, nearly overwhelming.  He spat again, more blood leaving with it.  Then, to everyone's
surprise, he simply sat down in the grass, eyes glossing over.
     "It really is a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said, a sad smile crossing his lips.  No one
answered, unable to comprehend his actions.  A small breeze blew air through Darien's damp,
sweaty hair, and he tilted his head toward the sun, his eyes fluttering shut.  "A beautiful day
indeed...." he said, almost laughing.
     He then heard yelling in the background and the crowd slowly dissipating.  He sighed,
knowing what was going on.
     
     "TIM!  DARIEN!!!!  My office.....NOW!!!!!"




     
                           Chapter 5

                                
     "I already told you," Darien answered calmly, "I didn't want to fight him, but he was
going to hurt some other people if I didn't."
     The principle crossed his arms.  "Well, I have quite a few witnesses who have said
otherwise."
     Darien shrugged softly to himself.  He had expected Tim's friends to lie for him.
     "How old are you, young man?"
     "16."
     "Why don't you start acting like it?  You've been nothing but a shit disturber, Darien."
the man's voice rose angrily, "Do you want to be a nothing, Darien?  Do you think it's fun
making other people's lives difficult?"
     Darien winced, half from physical pain, half from the emotional wallop he was receiving
right now, "Sir?  Can I please go to the infirmary now?"
     "Have you been listening to a word I'm saying, Darien?!" the principal nearly screamed,
"That's all you are!  A dreamer, and a nothing!"
     Darien would have rather had someone stab him in the heart at that moment.
     "You are suspended from this school for two weeks.  If I see you on or NEAR the school
grounds between now and then, you will be expelled.  Am I clear?!"
     He stood up slowly, turned around, and quietly left the office and closing the door behind
him without a sound.  
     He made a quick stop at the infirmary, not even having to explain what was wrong to get
bandaged.  His shoes made tiny scuffle noises as he walked solemnly down the lonely hallway,
people in their classes staring at him as he passed by open classroom doors.  It may have
bothered him if he even noticed, but his head was down and he watched the floor.  He reached
his locker, sulking, removed some of the items from it, and then left the building.
     He stood outside a long time, gazing at his home room window.
     "Sorry, Andy...I let you down, and I let myself down..."  Holding back tears, he walked
home...back to the orphanage.

     "Doctor Gillian?  You were right..." Darien called out, finding it unusual that he wasn't
around.  "I need someone to talk to.  Doc?"  He looked everywhere he normally spent his time;
his office, the cafeteria, the study...but still he was no where to be found.
     Another doctor spotted the wandering Darien, "What are you doing home so early?"
     Darien lowered his head, "I got...suspended."  He then looked concerned, "Where's
Doctor Gillian, Miss Hilton?"
     She sighed, "Oh dear..."  
     "What?  Where is he?" Darien demanded.
     She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Come with me."

     "He's in there." the woman said.  "And I'm sorry...I'll let you talk to him."  With that,
she hurried down the hallway.
     Darien entered the room, almost frightened to.  It was dark, the only light coming in
through tiny slits in the vertical blinds.  This wasn't one of the normal boarding rooms, in fact it
was in the medical wing...coincidentally enough, in the same room Darien had been in when
recovered from the car crash.  He was uneasy to see blinking lights and hear the beeps coming from a
heart monitor, and the silhouette of an IV.  In the middle of the room was a generic medical bed,
and in it a rather sick looking Mr. Gillian.
     "Doctor?" Darien whispered.
     "I'm awake, Darien." his voice was calm and indifferent from its normal tone.  "It's
okay, you can come in."
     Darien sat down in a seat beside the man, "What's wrong?  What happened?" he sounded
hurried and scared.
     Gillian looked at Darien's physical state, "I could ask you the same thing...anyway,
shouldn't you still be in class?"
     "I got suspended, okay?  Sir, what's going on?"
     "It seems even a doctor can have a bad heart, Darien." he replied softly.  "I never told
you that I had to have surgery last year...but it looks like that didn't work."
     Darien's tears began to burn his wounded eye.  "Doctor Gillian...you're not...you're not
gonna...?"
     "Yes, I'm afraid I'm dying, young lad." his voice was still soothing and unbroken, "But
please, call me Thomas."
     Darien was shocked by this sudden news.  "But...you were fine this morning!  I saw you!"
     The old man smiled, "I *was* fine this morning, that's true.  However, it seems a severe
heart attack can come at the most inconvenient of times..."
     "Doctor Gillian..."
     "Thomas." he corrected.
     Darien held his head in his hand, "This can't be happening...not now..."
     "Don't cry for me, Darien." he smiled, "Life has been good to me.  These things just,
well, happen."
     "Is...is that why...?"
     Gillian already knew the question, "I know I've been rough on you the past while.  It's
because I knew I didn't have much time and I was worried that maybe without me you'd..."
     Darien began to cry, "...you...you've been like a...like a father to me."
     "Darien?" Gillian almost sounded shocked.  
     Darien hesitated, but then couldn't any longer, "I'm so sorry I always got into
trouble...I'm a...." his eyes went blank, "...I'm a dreamer...a noth-"
     "Don't even say that." the doctor stopped him.  "Darien, I've always treated you like you
were my son, no matter what you thought of me.  I was always worried about you, especially
lately."
     Darien seemed confused.
     "You know as well as I do why you live so dangerously, Darien.  It's because of your
accident.  I know it's hard to explain, but I believe that subconsciously you think that if you
come close to death again, t-"
     "Then maybe I can remember about my parents...I know..." 
     All was quiet a moment.
     "I'm so sorry..."
     "Why, Darien?"
     He was shaking, "I tried so hard not to do anything wrong today...I really did, but it
seems like whenever I try to do what's right, the world comes crashing down on me..."  He
smiled grimly, "I wish I could have at least did something that would have made you proud of
me...but now, you're..."
     Gillian felt his own eyes clouding, but held back his sorrow for those poor, stormy eyes
that barely knew love.  "Darien, how old are you?"
     He stopped sobbing, "16."
     The man smiled, "I'm already very proud of you, Darien, and I know you'll make me
even more proud in your years to come."
     From that moment, half of Darien's emptiness had been filled.  He hugged the old man.
     "I love you like a father." he whispered.
     Gillian smiled weakly, "I love you too, Darien, and I can die a happy man knowing that." 
Thomas then broke away from the hug slowly and reached into a drawer beside him.  He pulled
out a small, wooden box and handed it to Darien.
     "Wh-what's this?" Darien asked, puzzled.
     "Well, it's now yours." he chuckled, "I've wanted to give it to you for a long time, but I
wasn't sure if you wanted it."
     Darien opened the box to see an old, original copy of Alice in Wonderland'.
     "I didn't know if you'd think I was implying you were a little kid, so I just hung onto it."
     Darien seemed confused, "I'm greatful, but I don't understand."
     "It's about a person lost in a mixed up world, not trying to cause any trouble, but who
just wants to find someone they can trust, and to find their way home..."
     A small snicker escaped Darien's mouth, and he nodded, "I think I understand now..."
     "Read it if you like, Darien.  If you want to remember me.  If you want to remember
where you came from.  Whenever life gets you down.  Read it to your children, for I'm sure
you'll have a wonderful family."
     "I will..." Darien agreed.
     The old man smiled again, "Thank you, Darien.  I hope life will be kind to you."
     "I won't forget you." Darien promised, then left him to rest.  Before out the door, Darien
pretended to tilt an imaginary hat, "Here's lookn' at you, kid..."  The old man chuckled, then
closed his eyes.
     
     That night, Thomas Gillian died in his sleep, and Alice had tea with the Mad Hatter.                           




                      
                  Chapter 6

                                
     It rained hard the next day.  All the other children had quietly went to school after the
loss of Mr. Gillian, and Darien watched the outside world emotionlessly from his room.  It was
now after lunch, and none of the staff had bothered to try to get him to eat...they knew he needed
some time.
     He had read the whole book last night.  However, it did not help the pain go away. 
Yesterday had been one of the worst days of his life, right up there with the car crash.  Darien
sighed, placing the old book away in its box.  The box had been decorated, painted with images
of Alice and the Red Queen, the Unicorn and the Lion.  Its cheerful appearance was
unrecognized by Darien.
     Tears fell steadily from his eyes as he thought of Gillian.  The closest he had ever gotten
to a person was with that old man.  The man he could make laugh, the man he could make cry. 
If only he'd have tried harder to open up, that man could have died knowing he had acomplished
something.  Darien had ruined that for him.  His mind filled with wicked thoughts, twisting his
insides and repeating over and over what a burdon he had been to the world.  He began to think
that it was his fault his parents died, and that was why he was the only one that lived.  He'd
almost taken that little girl's life two weeks ago.  He caused trouble for Andrew and his friends,
and generally made everyone's life miserable.
     He sat on his bed now, staring at the floor.  Was there really anything worth living for
now?  Anyone he loved seemed to be struck down or hurt because of him.  Perhaps he would
cause a lot less hurt if he was gone...
     ...if he just disappeared...
       He opened a drawer and pulled out a knife.  He examined the small blade, turning it so
the sunlight flickered on the shiny, silver surface.  He held it firmly in his hand and traced it
lightly over one of his wrists, almost as if he were practicing for some gruesome act.
     He knew he was.
     He took off his shirt, breath becoming quite relaxed.  Then, with one swift movement, he
sliced his skin from the base of his hand to mid forearm, not showing any emotion.  He did the
same to the other, cutting vertically so that clotting would not be effective.  Strangely, he felt no
pain; it was as if his body had become numb, like he had been separated from it.  He dropped the
knife carelessly on the floor, and he slowly walked toward his stereo, his blood staining the
linoleum tiles.  He turned on some soft music to ease himself, and he picked up a glass of water
beside his bed, taking a large gulp, red smearing onto the vessel.  He then lay down in the middle
of the floor, singing along to the sad, but calming music.  
     It was another hour before he felt sleepy...he knew he wasn't tired, though.  He began to
find it difficult to keep his eyes opened, and began mumbling things he couldn't even make out. 
He was aware that he was now lying in a large pool of his own blood, his hair drenched from it
and specks of red on the side of his face.  The music played on, and he let himself get lost in the
words.  He moaned almost happily.  He'd never imagined that awaiting death could be blissful. 
It was like he was suddenly aware of everything, watching the world through thoughtful eyes.  It
occured to him that he hadden't written a suicide note, but lost interest in the realization,
guessing that they'd figure it out eventually.  Suddenly, yet not alarmingly, Darien's vision
began to darken.  The storm in his eyes began to calm, clouding over as he felt death
approaching.  This is it, Darien thought, I'm finally going to get to meet my parents.  His eyes
closed, and he drifted off into unconciousness...

     His eyes opened to find he was lying in a field of flowers, in a tuxedo.
     He smiled weakly to himself.  "This dream...how wonderful that this should be the last
thing I see..."  He felt so comfortable and safe.  No one would ever be able to hurt him again,
and he would never cause anyone any more harm.
     Suddenly, he felt a presence beside him.  He turned his head to see that it was the same
girl that had been in his dream all the time.  Still, he couldn't see her face, as his vision was
blurred, and there was a heavy mist.  She traced a delicate hand over his chest, and the gold
piece on her forehead shone brightly.
     "Are...you an...angel?" he asked her.    
     He could hear her crying, "Please, you can't leave me...we haven't even found each
other..."
     "I don't understand..." he said, feeling death was coming closer.
     "...the ginzuishou...silver crystal..."
     It suddenly dawned on Darien...he couldn't die, not yet.  This girl...this beautiful angel
new that he had a reason to go on.  He had to retrieve this silver crystal.  He didn't know why, or
how, but he knew he had to do it, and he couldn't do it dead.
     "You have so much to live for..." she said, "...so many who love you..."
     "......." Darien thought of what she had just said...so many who loved him...
     She was right.  He had to go on; how would his death effect Andrew?  Or Rita?  What if
he made Tim feel like it was his fault he killed himself? And, most importantly, he would never
be able to make Gillian proud, like he promised.
     "I...I don't want to die...I want to help you..." Darien said, "But, it looks like it's too
late..." he felt his eyes getting heavier.  He didn't want death to take him.  It was a mistake...he
didn't want to lose this internal battle...that would mean the emptiness would win.
     The woman leaned over him, "It is never too late, my love..."  
     Just as he felt death was ready to take him, the girl kissed him softly on the lips.  He
moaned softly as his body began to glow with a golden light, flooding through his veins and into
his heart.  For another wonderful moment, he felt whole. 
     As Darien began to leave his dream, he could remember whispering to his beautiful
angel:

     "I...love you..."

     Darien slowly opened his eyes, realizing he was still on the floor.  He sat up quickly,
breathing hard, looking down at his wrists and holding his arms in front of him...they were fine,
with not even a scar.  He looked disbelievingly around the room to find there was not a speck of
blood anywhere; not on the floor, not on his clothes, and not even on the knife, which was
somehow placed on his desk.  Darien looked at the clock; it was 2:00 PM...two hours since he'd
committed the act...or had he? Darien had yet to discover the raw power he controlled in his
dreams, and wondered if the whole thing had been a terrible nightmare.  He shuddered, not
wanting to dwell on the subject.  Dream or not, he'd just been given a second chance...

     This time he'd do things right.

     He put his shirt back on, then left his room.  He walked slowly down the hallway, and
toward a heavy door.  He pushed it open, making a loud CACHUNK, and climbed a black flight
of concrete stairs.  He leaned his weight into an equally heavy door, and walked out onto the
roof.  He looked up to see that the sky was now clear, and the rain had stopped long ago.  He
didn't wander toward the ledge, but stood in the middle, a cool breeze carrying the brilliant
sunlight, like the white, liquid light in his dreams.  
     He smiled, a new certainty about him.  "A beautiful day, indeed." he said out loud.





                           Epilogue

                                
     "Glad you made it." he smiled, taking a sip of tea.
     Andrew was staring at him disbelievingly holding a cup of his own, "I STILL can't
believe it, Darien...er, Endymion." he said to the King.
     "I'm just glad you accepted my invitation." Neo-King Endymion said happily, "After all,
it WAS your idea..."
     Andrew put an arm around his wife, Rita, "You'd do anything to prove me wrong,
wouldn't you, pal?" he laughed.
     "But of course!" the King answered, "And we'll have to hit the arcade sometime."
     The Queen quietly made her way into the dining room, "Dear, she's ready."
     "Thanks, angel."  Neo-King Endymion stood up, bowing slightly to his guests, "If you'll
excuse me a minute, I've got a munchkin to tuck in."
     Rita giggled, "Oh, take your time."
     Neo-Queen Serenity sat down with them, "I'm sure we'll get along without you for a
bit."
     "Thanks."

     "Hi there, sweetie." he said softly, "Did Mommy sing you a lullaby?"
     The small, pink-haired girl clutched her Luna Ball tightly, "Yup!  And she kissed me
goodnight!"
     The King carefully sat down on the bed beside his daughter, "So, shall we read another
chapter tonight, Reeny?"
     She nodded excitedly.
     He opened a dresser drawer and removed a small wooden box.  He opened it and picked
up an old book, kept in remarkable shape.  He opened it up where a bookmark showed the part 
they had left off, and he placed an arm around the tiny girl.
     Reeny cuddled up beside her father, smiling sleepily.  "Where are we now, Daddy?"
     He smiled, "Chapter 13: The Jabberwaki."


     THE END



So, what'd you think?  I know it's kinda dark, but Darien didn't exactly have a normal
childhood.  If you have any comments, suggestions, death threats, recipes or money you wish to
send me, E-Mail me at:

ncrceo@ccinet.ab.ca

I would really appreciate any response, since this is my first Fanfic I've put on the web. ^_^