A Deviant Spawn Betrayal

"I should've just aborted you, you ungrateful little bastard."

~Linda Wilkinson to eleven year old son Shane~

*

February 4, 2011

"Taz likes them," Shane said for the sixth time since entering the stretch limousine. As expected, Rory had lit into him about his piercings. And since Taz's endorsement was the most persuasive argument Shane had working in his favor, he'd been wearing it out ever since they'd departed the airport. "Tell him again, Taz. You like them, right?"

"I like the way they look," Taz confirmed for the sixth time.

"You heard him," Rory said from his spot at Taz's side on the other side of the vehicle. His left hand was stationed on Taz's black clad thigh, the huge, onyx colored diamond of his engagement ring winking every time the light from an overhead street lamp filtered through the limo's sunroof. "Taz only likes the way they look. He doesn't like their

meaning

. Isn't that right, Taz?"

For the sixth time, Taz confirmed, "Although I don't know the exact meaning, lovely, I'm leaning towards thinking that, yes, whatever it is, it's extremely unsettling and definitely something I won't care for."

"There is no meaning, Taz," Shane said, long past the point of losing patience with the entire situation. "Rory, please tell Taz that there is no meaning."

"You want me to

lie

to my fiancé?" Rory demanded, indignant.

"What I want is for you and your fiancé to both understand that there is no meaning other than I meant to get a piercing so I did!"

"

A

piercing? Really, Shane?

A

piercing?" Shaking his head, Rory continued, "I could deal with

a

piercing. I could understand

a

piercing. Last I'd heard, you'd only gotten one more than

a

piercing. But let's be real here, you didn't just stop with the two piercings in your lip. You went out and let somebody pierce you

three

additional times, four if we count the piercings in your ear as the two they really are!"

Where the hell has Mr. Calm, Cool and Always Collected gotten off to

, Shane wondered. He so wanted him back. ASAP.

As Rory persisted with his ranting and raving, Shane let his thoughts wander. Unsurprisingly, they returned to the airport.

And Eric.

God, he really didn't like the guy. He still hadn't identified an actual reason as to why.

But...but maybe Eric wasn't

quite

so bad.

"Shane, you can just wipe that smugness off your face," Rory snapped. Then he glared up at Taz. "And you, Taz," he said, "are mistaken about Shane's piercings."

"I am?" Taz asked, clearly amused.

"Yes, Taz, you are. Those piercings are not cool. Not cool at all."

Picking up on the genuineness of Rory's distress, Taz's humor faded. "What's wrong, lovely? What's going on?"

"Please, Rory, let's do this in private," Shane interjected, subdued. He didn't want his life's problems aired out to the entire population of JFK airport. The entire population of JFK airport currently standing not even two feet away with their camera phones, iPods and other devices held in hand.

He didn't want Taz to know about his problems either. Which was why Shane had made Rory promise weeks ago to never to tell Taz. Otherwise, if Taz knew, then he'd surely tell Revelin. And Shane could already guess how Revelin would react towards him after hearing his story from the mouth of another person first.

Pity. Everyone always felt pity for Shane on learning the details of his jacked up relationship with his mother. Rory's parents. Rory's sister. His cousin Jazzy. All people Rory had told.

There were only two people Shane was certain hadn't felt pity for him: the therapist hired by Mr. and Mrs. Banks and Rory. They were also the only two people that Shane had told himself. And Shane desperately needed that unlikely difference to be key.

Because the thought of Revelin pitying him was the worst of the worst. Shane would much rather deal with Revelin's disgust and anger over what Shane had did to him, not his pity.

Never his pity.

But, almost without a doubt, pity was what Shane would end up with if Revelin didn't hear the story from him directly.

The severe expression on Rory's face softened. "You know I'd never publicly humiliate you. I leave those types of antics up to Taz as he excels so well in them. But, Shane, you and I are going to talk about this."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's kinda what I figured." Shane bent to pick up the backpack he'd dropped. When he stood, he felt a form sidle up close beside him.

"I

think the piercings are cool," Eric crooned silkily, rubbing his chest against Shane's arm. "And it seems we have

a lot

to talk about,

friend

." Then he melded into the crowd Nietz and the newly arrived airport security guards were forcing to disperse.

Shane watched the blond head as it disappeared into the moving mass. He couldn't help but feel somewhat indebted to Eric for voicing his support...even if he had done so only loud enough for Shane to hear.

And Shane quickly discovered he wasn't fond of feeling like he owed Eric anything.

"Who was that?" Taz questioned.

"Yeah, Shane, who was

that?" Rory echoed.

Uneasy over Eric's parting comment, Shane hoped the answer he gave proved to be true. "My new friend."

"

Shane

!" The screeching voice of Shane's oldest and dearest friend yanked Shane out of his memory. "Damn it, Shane, are you listening to me?"

"No, Rory, I'm not." Shane stuck his fingers in his ears. "So not listening to you."

"Real mature, Shane, real mature."

"Lalalala, I can't

hear

you," Shane singsonged.

"Oh, for Christ's sake,

stop

that. And just admit you engaged in a disturbing activity."

"Can't do that, Ror. There's nothing disturbing about me getting a few piercings."

"There's not?" Rory's face was flushed with a mixture of annoyance, love and worry. "How about we ask Taz what he thinks, then? About

all

of it, no details left out."

"

What

?" Shane unplugged his ears. "No, Rory, you

promised

you wouldn't tell! You promised!"

"And I've kept your confidence up to this point. I've never even

hinted

to Taz about your issues. But...but I think it's time he knew. Time for us both to hear his opinion. His unbiased opinion."

"Of what, lovely?" Taz questioned.

"Of the fact that as recent as a year ago, Shane used to cut himself. Deep. And often."

Taz stared at Shane as if Shane had just sprouted a set of perfectly formed boobies. "Jesus, Shane, you're a cutter?"

"Was," Shane clarified, slumped down in his seat. He waited, expecting Taz to whip out his cell and call Revelin on the spot to share this newest piece of knowledge he'd acquired about Shane.

Once Revelin laid eyes again on Shane, he would know. He would

know

the reason for the make-up. He would

know

the reason for the piercings. He would

know

the reason behind Shane's actions on New Year's Day.

He would

know

just how screwed up Shane really was.

And he would know even though Shane hadn't told him himself, defeating Shane's purpose for making this stupid trip in the first place.

Then would come the pity for poor, poor Shane.

But instead of retrieving his cell, Taz asked, "Why?"

"For relief from the emotional turmoil brought down on him by his own mother," Rory answered. "Same reason, I suspect, he got those piercings."

"I'm over her." Alleviation flooded through Shane though he'd modulated his tone to reflect terseness. He hoped sounding and acting irritated would keep Rory thinking that his mother really was the reason for the piercings. So long as Rory didn't associate the jewelry with Revelin, everything was good and Shane would have his chance to talk to Revelin before anyone else did. "You

know

she means nothing to me, Rory."

"I know you say that. But I also know the worthless whore is still your mother."

"My mother who I haven't talked to since she kicked me out over a year ago."

"Crappy as it is, she's still the

only

mother you got. The only one you'll ever have."

"No, she's not, Ror. I have your mom."

"Then what happened, Shane? You completed the therapy sessions. You promised me, Mom and Dad last year you'd stop it with the self-mutilation.

You got better

."

"I didn't harm myself." Shane closed his eyes to block out the disquiet on Rory's face and the disbelief on Taz's.

"That's right,

you

didn't. You were real quick to point out to me at the airport, weren't you," Rory ground out. "You didn't have to do it because you found someone to do it for you and then

paid

them for services rendered. Think about what I just said, Shane. About how

sick

that sounds."

"Dude, you are so making this way more serious than what it really is." Shane gently rolled the beaded part of the jewelry in his tongue against the back of his teeth.

At five weeks out, his first piercings, the two through the left corner of his bottom lip, were just about complete with the healing process. As was the piercing through his left eyebrow at four and half weeks out. His tongue piercing and the industrial piercing connecting the hole in his left ear's upper cartilage to the hole in the cartilage a little lower down by way of a long, straight barbell, were both newer and would require months longer to heal.

Thankfully, none of the piercings had gotten infected and none had sent his body into shock from sensory overload.

None were even sore anymore.

"And I think you're not taking this seriously enough." Quietly, Rory asked, "If this isn't about your mother, then what is it about? Shane, is this about Revelin? Is what happened with him the reason for the setback?"

"No," Shane protested, eyes popping open. He discovered that not only was Rory staring at him intently, but that Taz eyed him very interestedly as well. "This has

nothing

to do with Revelin and nothing to do with what happened.

Nothing

. And this isn't a setback, it's body art. A form of expression. A way for me to—"

"You're babbling, Shane."

"I always babble, Rory."

"In excitement. And right now you're filled to the brim with excitement. The

nervous

kind. Makes me wonder why."

"My piercings don't have anything to do with Revelin, okay?" Shane insisted. "I got them because I'd thought they'd be cool. And...and because of my mother. Yeah, definitely because of my mother."

The limo pulled to a stop and when Nietz opened the door from the outside a few seconds later, Shane made sure he was the first person out. Before Rory could catch up to him, and pester him even further with uncomfortably accurate questions, Shane rushed to the doors of The Huntington, the hotel where he would be staying and where Deviant Spawn would be performing the next night.

He was stopped several feet from his destination by two silent, massive men who seemed to appear right out of thin air. From somewhere behind him, Nietz shouted, "He's good."

The guards moved and Shane continued on his way.

From Rory's reaction to the piercings above his neck, Shane knew he'd have to be real careful not to let his best friend see him without a shirt for the duration of The Visit. He grimaced, thinking of the verbal backlash if Rory was to catch sight of the curved barbell pierced through his navel.

And the rings looped through each of Shane's nips? It went without saying he would have to keep those on the hush-hush also. Until the day he died.

Having no idea where he was supposed to go, Shane stopped once he'd passed the hotel's threshold, prepared to wait for the others to catch up to him. He wanted them to give him the directions, and the keycard, to the room he would be occupying so he could disappear and avoid them for the rest of the night. But the sounds of an acoustic guitar immediately caught Shane's attention, the melody beckoning him to a set of just cracked open double doors situated right off the hotel's luxuriant lobby.

From the interior of the unknown room, a third guard appeared. He blocked Shane from entering. "Where do you think you're going?"

Revelin. Revelin was through those doors. "I, um, I'm here to see—"

"The guitar player? Fan of his?" The guard stepped close. Eyes glued to Shane's mouth, he licked his thick lips. He lowered his voice as he said, "I'm here to make sure nobody gets through these doors, but, if you

really

want to watch Revelin practice, I'm sure I can make an...exception."

Shane was saved from having to respond as Taz yelled from across the lobby, "What the—

get the fuck away from him

!"

"Shoulda known you already belong to Taz," the guard grumbled, jumping back. Louder, he responded directly to the musician, "Just stopping the kid from pissing Revelin off. He made it very clear before he went in there that he doesn't want to be disturbed right now."

"And I could give a fuck what the hell Revelin wants, asshole. Let the boy pass, goddamn it."

Before doing as bid, the guard warned Shane in an undertone, "Not one word, sunshine."

And so Shane was allowed access, unmolested, to what turned out to be The Huntington's huge, in-house nightclub. He didn't care about the guard's thinly veiled threat. He didn't care that Rory and Taz were no doubt coming up right behind him.

He had to see him.

He had to see Revelin.

The few lights turned on in Doux Rêves were all pointed at the center of the club's stage. Where they highlighted the tall, lean man who stood there, alone, eyes closed. His lips were turned down at the corners and he held his body curved over that of the obsidian instrument he held.

The wailing of his guitar could best be described as mournful.

Revelin wore his hair as he always did, parted down the middle at the top of his head so it hung loose on either side of his striking face. It was black at the roots with the ends colored a blue Shane knew was the same startling shade as his eyes. He was dressed in Deviant Spawn's standard color choice of black, his outfit consisting of a tight, long-sleeved shirt paired with sinfully tight jeans tucked into calf high, thick soled boots with numerous silver buckles running down the outer sides.

In his right hand, he held the pick he used to strum the guitar's taut steel strings. Enthralled, Shane moved to the edge of the stage, watching the long fingers of Revelin's left hand as they sinuously moved up and down the instrument's neck, coaxing the sweet, sad sound into existence.

The auditory form of sweet, sad lovemaking.

The vibrating notes washed over Shane, making him remember the night he'd been on the receiving end of those talented fingers. They'd moved similarly over his body and, god, like Revelin did now with his guitar, he had also made Shane howl.

As if he knew he was being examined, Revelin's eyes opened and unerringly landed on Shane. Shane's breath caught as the music stopped, the guitar strap was ripped over Revelin's head and the instrument tossed aside atop one of the nearby amplifiers. Revelin leapt off the stage, landing right in front of Shane.

He brushed a thumb over Shane's bottom lip, making it quiver. His touch was hard enough to rub off the black lipstick Shane wore and the exploration only stopped when Revelin reached the two metal hoops at the left corner. His eyes flickered from the lip piercings to Shane's left ear to Shane's left eyebrow.

Then his eyes drifted even higher to take in Shane's spiked hair. Which was no longer blue at the ends. It was now red tipped.

The cobalt gaze snapped down to meet Shane's eyes as Revelin jerked his hand and body away. "Foolish, foolish me. For just a second there I let myself forget. And I...yeah, you know what? Not even going there with you. So...what's with the pin cushion look?"

"Thought I'd try something different," Shane said, cringing on hearing the scorn in Revelin's voice. "Change is good."

"As you've demonstrated so well in the past. That night, you felt no qualms about showing me exactly how good you think change is, did you," Revelin sneered. Still staring hard at Shane, he snapped, "Why the fuck is he here?"

"Because I invited him," Rory answered as he appeared on Shane's right side. He softly bumped his shoulder against Shane's, a silent show of support and unity.

"The question was

why

," Revelin snarled through rigid lips.

"Because he's—"

"My early Valentine's Day gift," Taz interrupted, joining the group on Shane's left. Tone provocative, Taz said, "Christmas morning I begged my lovely for a ménage with him and his delectable best friend and, voila, here we have Shane, a little over a week before for the day dedicated to lovers. Perfect V-Day present, wouldn't you say, Rev?"

Shane was certain whatever explanation Rory had been about to offer for his presence, it wasn't anywhere near the one thrown out by Taz. Nor did he understand why Taz seemed to be baiting Revelin.

But Taz's explanation did serve one very useful purpose. It redirected Revelin's unnerving stare away from Shane. And onto the singer.

"

Not

helping, Taz," Rory groaned.

"Come now, lovely, I'll make it fun for all three of us. I promise." Voice filled with seductive allusions, he purred, "And you know how well I keep my promises."

Rory sighed. "And how quickly you seem to have forgotten, Broderick, the conclusion of that conversation on threesomes and monogamy. With that being said,

if

I were to allow Shane to join us, which I would never do, I think you could benefit from a friendly reminder that Shane tops as well as bottoms. And he tops quite well.

I

, for one, never had any complaints."

If the entire situation hadn't been so stressful and tense, Shane would've laughed. The expression on Taz's face told the whole story about his opinion when it came to him and bottoming.

Wasn't ever going to happen.

"Witch boy won't be getting anywhere near my ass," Taz said. "You can count on that. I figure what we'll do is bury his dick in your sweet behind while I bury my cock in—"

"Touch him," Revelin roared, "and I swear to God I'll—"

"You'll what?" Switching off his sexual playfulness, Taz got right up in Revelin's face. "Take care of him like you should've started doing weeks ago? The boy's half in love with you yet you fucked him, then cruelly strung him along for the next seven days. Then you walked away. And now that someone else expresses an interest, you have the audacity to start with the jealous shit? Well, you can just shove it up your ass, Rev."

"You're correct," Revelin acknowledged through clenched teeth. "You're absolutely correct. I don't have the right to be jealous. Now here's a suggestion for you, lover boy. Before making any more stupid accusations, why don't you try asking first why I walked away."

"You know I have. Numerous times. Only to have you shut me down on each and every occasion." Taz laughed, the sound harsh and ugly and Shane's heart stuttered as he said, "You stupid fuck, if you only knew all that Shane—"

"Taz, no," Rory cut in.

Shane breathed in a sigh of relief when Taz complied with Rory's protest by muttering an expletive. Followed by the shutting of his mouth.

Only to have the air choke him seconds later when Revelin next spoke.

"That's right, Taz,

no

," he spat. "I don't want to know Shane's dirty little secrets. I don't want to know why he hides behind the makeup and now the jewelry. I don't want to know what it is that he hides. As a matter of fact, I don't want to know shit else about the little bastard, because what I do know is more than enough. And as for your insatiable curiosity, you now have your chance to ask the only other person who knows what the deal is. Ask the red headed emo why I walked away."

"Shithead," Taz barked.