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The prison loomed far into the sky, pointed turrets looking as if they could impale any prisoner that tried to escape, twisted wrought iron creating the heavy fence that surrounded the grounds, but Roch didn’t think that was the only thing. In fact every instinct he had was shouting at him to turn around--to never come back and forget that Fang ever happened to him. But he just stood there, staring up at the creepy prison that looked more like an insanity ward.

He’d actually called ahead of time, asking when the visiting hours were. He’d have never done that when he was younger. He probably would have tried to break in, or something equally retarded. But that didn’t make him stare blandly at the two boogies guarding the front gate. “I’m here to see Fang,” he said when neither of them spoke.

The fence opened, and they stepped aside to let him in. He hesitated, then stepped through, glancing back as the gate slammed shut with a clang behind him. Above the gate was a plaque that said “Abandon Hope, All Ye That Enter Here.” It was some sort of sick joke, he figured. But he wasn’t going to let anyone see him react to it, so he turned and started walking towards the building.

“Hey pretty boil!” one of the inmates in the yard called. They were fenced off from the walk to the front door, but that didn’t seem to stop them. “You come to see your boilfriend?”

“I’ll be your boilfriend! All y’gotta do is look reeealll pretty for me--“

He didn’t even glance over at them. He was tempted to summon his guitar, but that would have been a sign of weakness. Besides, he was certain he’d get a visitor’s badge soon enough--one that would clamp down his abilities completely. The wrought iron atrocity of a door swung open without him even touching it, and he stepped through. It was a hallway, but there was a boogey, complete with cloak, standing to the right--as if he’d been waiting for him.

“Rochester England Scythe?” the boogey asked, showing that he HAD been waiting. “I’d hoped not to see you here. Ever.”

“I came by choice,” Roch said. “I’m leavin’ by it, too. After I talk to Fang.”

“He’s been bragging that you would come since he was tossed in,” the boogey commented. “That’s almost two years ago.”

“I’ve been away.”

“At Amity?”

Roch looked at him.

“We do have televisions, you know. I saw you during the Horsemen Trials. The entire prison did.” He started forward. A reaper, Roch noticed as he saw the way he moved. He had known he wasn’t a ghost, but the other species had been in question. Although he supposed the boogey could be one of the more reaper-like monsters, like Amphi. Absently he started following, looking at the prison from a prisoner’s eyepoint. It was dark and twisted, with the sounds from prisoners droning in the background. The floor was concrete, the walls were created of spiked metal poles twisted and weaved together. It was somewhat familiar to him--his bed was like that--but at the same time it was cold and sullen, with the promise of violence lurking under the surface.

The boogey stopped abruptly, turning and looking at him, tugging his hood down. The reaper looked about his father’s age, with cold gold eyes that seemed to look straight into Roch’s head. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly. “Fang will be out in five or ten years, but by then you’ll be more than capable of dealing with him. Right now--Horseman Trial winner, Amity student, whatever the hell it is you brag about, you’re still young enough to backslide.”

“Is he through that door?” Roch asked, pointing at the arched metal door behind the boogey.

“Yeah,” the boogey said, opening the door and walking in. It was clear that he didn’t agree with Roch’s decision, but Roch didn’t care.

“What took you so long, boil?” the familiar growling voice asked from the shadows in the room. The boogey hit a switch, lighting up the hanging lamp and almost blinding everyone that entered. And there he was, Roch thought, looking at the massive werewolf in an atrocious neon orange suit. His huge hands were in shackles, and he seemed to dwarf the wooden chair that he sat on. He was grinning from ear to ear, though, as if he expected something major to happen. The table in front of him was old--and wooden. It was the first piece of wood Roch had seen in the place. But there was something--ah, he thought, it had a thin strip of silver along the edge and over the legs.

Roch headed for the chair on the opposite side of the table, and sat down. “Fang,” he said.

“That’s the best greeting you got for an’ old friend?” Fang demanded.

“Yeah. Yeah I think it is.”

((WC: 832))

There was a familiar figure waiting outside the prison. For a moment Roch stared at the black suited back, wondering why Bones had chosen this time to leave his little stoop on the corner. He counted to ten... twenty, then stepped forward, dropping down on the bench next to the skeleton and staring at the empty street. He didn’t say anything, Bones didn’t either. They just sat there, staring out at the street for a good ten minutes, each thinking something that didn’t really want to talk about.

Then Roch gave in. “He’s not sane,” he said quietly. “Has he gotten worse?”

“Nope.”

“So he was always like that?”

“Yep.”

“Why did I never...” Roch scowled, stretching his legs out in front of him and slouching as he tried to figure out his own past.

“Sometimes... y’gotta step back to see clearly, boil.”

Roch shoved his hands deeper into his pockets then said something he didn’t really feel he had the right to say. “Bones?” he said. “I ain’t comin’ back after this.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“I don’t want you here, either. I ain’t got a place to take you--but I figure you can find somethin--“

“I’m an old undead, boil,” Bones said. “I’ve gotten a reputation built up on that old corner, one that would take too much work to build up again. I’m not goin’ anywhere, boil. But you’re right to leave. You shoulda never been in that neighborhood to begin with.”

“No,” Roch said. “I learned things there. If I hadn’t been there I would have never learned to play the guitar like I did.”

The skeleton let out a dry chuckle, leaning back slightly and looking at the pumpkin sun. “Just because you ain’t comin’ back, ain’t no reason not to call once in a while.”

“I know,” Roch said. “Is it runnin’ away?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah. You could call it that. But I figure, in your case, it’s more of a ‘runnin’ to,’” Bones told him. “Now show me your chords, boil, you owe me one last lesson.”

Roch snorted, a grin pulling at his lips as he reached out, summoning his guitar. The feel of his weapon sent a rush of security through him--something he hadn’t realized he’d been lacking. He stared at Desiree, a slight frown on his face. “This ain’t the end, is it,” he said quietly. “Even if I never come back--“

“Yeah.”

Fang would come after him, Roch thought. But the boogey--as much as Roch hated to admit it--was right. It wouldn’t be for another five to ten years. By the time Roch was twenty... maybe he would be able to deal with all the aspects that came with this problem.

Right now, though, he still felt like the little kid that’d been shoved into the wall for crashing a car. He pulled the strap of his guitar over his shoulders, tuning it without thinking, his mind examining his childhood from a distance. So many things that had been completely ignored or overlooked, or just assumed to be right--

Fingers played over strings, his music soon joined by the skeleton’s, a familiar, nostalgic sound that almost made him want to cry. By never coming back he would never hear this sound again. But he had made a decision. No longer would he worry about the past--he needed to focus on his future.

A little, bittersweet smile pulled at his lips. Once upon a time he’d never thought he’d have a future. The only reason he’d even bothered to go to school had been to get away from his old man. His old man had followed him, and dragged his granddad into it. Or something like that. Now he had a family life, he had a ghoulfriend, he had a prospective job. For a kid off the street, one that’d never expected to have an education other than scraps pieced together by the man sitting next to him, it was more than he’d ever imagined.

Fang... “I loved him,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“My whole jackin’ world centered around him and you,” he went on.

“I know.”

“How can he do... this?” Roch asked. “How can he...” He didn’t even know how to explain it. He just knew he felt betrayed--which was stupid, he thought, because Fang hadn’t changed. He had.

“Boil... there’s some people that talk real good... and are nuttier than hell,” Bones said finally. “The older you get the more of them you’ll run into. You’ll know how to recognize them now.”

“I thought I was so jackin’ good at readin’ people,” Roch said, a hint of dry amusement.

“You are,” Bones said. “But you’re also jackin’ good at not lookin’. You didn’t WANT t’see it, boil. You didn’t let anyone say it--cuz I figure a part of you already knew.”

And there was nothing Roch could say to that. Because he had a sick feeling in his gut that it was true.

((WC: 837))

(Warning: sexy)

Weird. The word was stuck in his head, even though it was well past two in the morning. He couldn’t sleep. He’d taken a shower and gone to bed, but he just laid there, staring at his hand as her words repeated over and over again in his mind. It had been weird. What the hell did you say to that, he thought, turning the hand over and looking at his rings. Had he done it wrong?

..... he shouldn’t have done it at all, he thought, uncovering and sitting up on the bed. What the hell had he been thinking? He had set the boundaries, himself, dammit, and he even listed out the reasons he shouldn’t go too far--

But it wasn’t like they’d actually... y’know... gone all the way.

Groaning, he ran a hand over his face, feeling torn. How in the hell do you--well--

He’d thought it was y’know, pretty much what you were supposed to DO. His granddad had said stuff like that, and his dad hadn’t argued, and NEITHER of them had said it was weird, right? Maybe it was the species difference? Did mermaids do it different than reapers? Well, yeah, they would, he thought. They were in the water, which meant they had tails, and as he’d already discovered, there weren’t any--well--

You couldn’t make love to a mermaid like that. So... um...

Now he was just confused. Was she expecting him to do it like mermaids did? HOW? Could he ask? Wouldn’t she just look at him strange, because clearly EVERYONE should know? He would probably be called stupid on top of the weird.

With a groan he pulled out his eyephone, typing on the screen to see if he could find anything out. He stared at the screen, turning it so it was easier to read. Then frowned. Because the net didn’t know anymore than he did, it looked like. There was no jackin’ WAY this one would work, he went on, looking at a picture. Clearly whoever drew it hadn’t made out with a mermaid. No... no... what the hell? He stared at the last one for a moment before going on to the next page.

Maybe he should... give up on that part of their relationship. It’d probably be best for both of them, right? They did alright without tossing stuff like that into the mix. Sure, it got frustrating, and sure he had to take a lot of cold showers, but that was okay. They were good together, right? When they weren’t insanity monsters, or kidnapped by hunters, or... listening to Johnny Danger. They were good.

He didn’t want to lose her. He could have sworn she was enjoying it. It wasn’t like he’d suddenly gone tone deaf, right? He knew the difference between someone enjoying herself and someone wanting to stop. He HAD stopped. So... if she’d enjoyed it... how was it weird?

Roch groaned and fell back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Then he brought his hand up, staring at it as well. Maybe he’d done it wrong--maybe he could have done it better, right? He brought up his phone and started typing again. He stared blankly as a video came up, watching it for far too long before clicking away.

Nope. He wasn’t ABOUT to try that with her.

In fact, he was worried that if he tried stuff like he’d done again, she might get sick of him. Sure she’d said she didn’t want to break up after this time, but what if he kept pushing it? Would she dump him? Tell him he was moving too fast, or weirdly, or something? Nope, he wasn’t going to risk that. In fact... honestly... he should probably make up for what he’d done, right? Like, he didn’t know, kissing up to her? Presents, dates, things to make her happy, right?

When had they last gone on a date? The water park? Jack, that’d been a while ago. He could take her to the hot springs again! She’d liked that! Or maybe they could have another movie night--nah, they did that all the time, it felt like. Maybe a movie theater? Yeah, he could do that. They’d munch on snacks and watch the newest movie together, maybe hit a fast food joint--or the sushi place. She might like sushi!

He felt like he was crawling on his hands and knees, begging for forgiveness. But wasn’t that what he was doing? He’d screwed up. Sure, it wasn’t like he’d cheated on her or anything, but he’d done somethin’ she didn’t like--so, wasn’t it only right that he tried to make up for it?

But had she really not liked it?

He groaned and got out of bed, heading for the shower again. Being a teenager in love was suffering, man. SUFFERING.

Whatever You Want, Blue Eyes: Roch and Amphi wind up fighting during their Christmas date and separate. FIN

Hush-A-Bye: Roch tells Danny about Amphi and him.

Can I Ask You Somethin?: Roch interviews Invi about hunters FIN

Tell Me, Wouldya?: Roch interviews Shun about hunters. FIN

Hungry Hungry Boils: Roch, G and Nahm with pizza.

What Do You Know?: Roch interviews Junko about hunters. FIN

Punk And Owl: Roch goes to talk to Muka

Wrangling Dragons: Roch helps Red and the others try and get Jericho back.

It's Bro Time!: Ren and Roch go out go-karting to get Roch's mind off being dumped.
Little Aria: Roch finds out who Aria really is FIN
Consolation Prize: Roch and Amrita spend some time together FIN
3, 2, 1... Let's Jam: The Scythe family goes to bloodstock for a family vacation (NFP for Roch)
Blind Date: Roch takes Angeline out on a date set up by Terra FIN
Loss, Strain and Butterflies: Roch takes Mia on a blind date
No Worries: Lark's back, and Roch is a bad influence FIN
Touch the Rainbow, taste bliss?: Roch forgets about Marosa's touching deal and hugs him--then drags him on a date.

The fight was over--no, that was a lie, but as far as Beat was concerned it was over until he was caught again. He was sick and tired of that game they'd stuck him in. The little minipet scampered down an alley as he heard people behind him, hiding behind the trashcans and peeking around the side. If he was caught, he thought, he'd wind up tossed back into the game. He didn't want to go back to the game.

The people took forever before passing the alley, but finally they were gone, leaving the little minipet breathing a sigh of relief as he leaned against the can. It was pathetic, the minipet thought, he was a total badass, but he was being forced to hide! There had to be something he could do--

A shadow covered him, blocking out the moonlight and making him look up with trepidation as a huge body slung over the wall behind him, dropping down lightly into the alley, mere feet away from the mini. For a long time Beat just stood there, stock still, sure that he would be seen and grabbed. The tall creature in front of him looked like a citizen. One of those beings large and powerful enough to do whatever they wanted with minipets like Beat. It turned, light glinting off of silver pieces in its face, and looked down at him curiously.

"Huh," Roch said, crouching down and reaching for the mini. He jerked, his fingers mere seconds away from the minipet as he heard something. "Gotta go," he said, hopping to his feet and disappearing entirely. For a moment Beat stared blankly at the spot where the boil had been--then blinked as someone hopped over the wall.

"GET BACK HERE YOU PUNK!" the man shouted, chasing after the disappeared creature. "DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!" Then the man stopped, panting heavily. "Why... always... my... roses?" he complained breathlessly. Then he turned and headed around the corner, not even noticing Beat was there. "Think I had... a heartattack... stupid wall."

Beat looked at the large man, then back down the alley, curiosity kicking in. He couldn't stay here! So Beat scampered out the alley, looked left, looked right, then sniffed the air before heading to the right. He could maybe smell the tall creature, he thought. And after several moments, he could even see him walking along as if he'd done nothing wrong with a handful of roses in his hand. He was interesting, Beat thought, sniffing again and scampering along behind him. He even stopped, glancing back--just in time to see the tiniest flash of fur as Beat hid behind another trashcan.

For a moment Roch just looked at the trashcan. Then he shrugged and started walking again, completely oblivious to his little stalker.

The huge place that the tall boil reached had the wish standing on his hind legs, staring in wonder--up at the fence. It was huge. He stared at it for so long that he almost lost track of the boil, and had to kick up the speed to catch up to a proper stalking distance. He wasn't even sure why he was following this guy, Beat thought, other than the lights along the way shone on several shiny spots on the boil, and he couldn't get the image of the hand reaching for him out of his mind. It hadn't been an attack, Beat thought. He knew when he was being attacked.

Had the boil... perhaps... wanted to pet him? The thought was lodged firmly in his little mind, and his entire body told him that he wanted that hand to pet him! It was huge, thus it would do good pets! Not... that Beat had ever been petted before, but he could imagine it! He almost made a sound as he noticed the door was closing and squeezed through by mere inches before the dorm door closed behind him. He stared blankly at the large, dark, and rather intimidating room for a moment before catching sight of his boil and giving chase again.

He went down stairs, down a hall, and slipped into a door right behind Roch's foot and into his new home! Wait... really, Beat, don't you think you should--
"What do you think you're doing here?" a dark voice asked from the bed. Beat glanced up as a scarred, nasty looking cat hopped off the bed and sauntered over to him. "This is MY room," Jackdammit hissed.

"I'm taking it," Beat said. "That one--" he said, pointing at the boil who--was sticking his head in a box in the room in the back. "That one is going to be mine!"

"He's mine!" the cat snarled, then tackled him. But Beat had been fighting far more than this spoiled cat was, and had him pinned--amidst much howling and growling. And then water spilled over both of them.

"Oye," the boil said as Jackdammit hissed and jumped away. He spoke, saying some things, but Beat had no clue what he was saying, other than he didn't want them fighting anymore. Then he dropped down in a crouch again, reaching out to Beat hesitantly, holding his hand out in front of the wish's face. Beat looked at the huge hand, then at the boil who was watching him expectantly. Then he looked at the cat.

"This one's MINE," he told the cat, giving his most defensive stance.

"We share," a sweet voice said from above, making Beat looked up at a little sprite sitting on the black box. "Roch belongs to all of us."

"He can have him," Jackdammit muttered, heading for the closet door. "I'm sick of this place, anyway."

"Jackdammit!" the sprite said irritably--then chased him out the door. "Don't be like that, you jerk!"

Then Beat was alone--save for a lazy looking solar flare that was watching him from a place he didn't see. He looked at the big hand again, then shoved his head into it, rubbing happily. He had his pets. It was SO worth it.

"So... y'follow me all the way from town," Roch said to the tough looking wish that was trying to climb into his hand. "An' y'kick my cat's a**," he went on as the wish struggled to balance on the hand. With a grin, Roch pulled him closer to his chest, holding him as he dropped down on the chair. "So... I guess you're mine."

"We share Roch," a voice said from above, making Beat blink at the sight of a solar flare. "So if y'wanna stay here, y'gotta learn that. Else you'll get ran over by the dogs."

"The dogs?" Beat repeated blankly.

"The dogs," Clef repeated.