Darker Than You

Authors Note: Ok, this is completly different then what Katou\'s real life is like. Sae is being replaced by a younger sister, Katline, who is a complete jerk to him and his mother. His mother is basically what Sae is, only doesn\'t call him Yue-chan or anything to that matter. Robert is Katou\'s \"Father\" the one that raised him that is. Still abusive, and yes... he has an American name, because he originated from America, haven\'t completly worked out why he\'s in Tokyo or anything just yet, but yeah. This is just something I put together at random. Thank you and enjoy.


Warning: Might be some OOC, rape, yaoi, angst, suicidal thoughts, attempt suicide, drug abuse, child abuse, wife abuse, cussing, lemons, and VERY bad spng ang and about anything else that I might and will add to this story.

Rated: PG-for now, bu the rating will go up as I get further into this one.

Disclaimer: I don\'t own any of the characters of Angel Sanctuary and the names I use for Katou\'s family are not really there either. And YES, I do know his real family and all that crap but this is an AU fic.

Time Frame: uh... no where, its AU thank you.

Told from Katou\'s POV.

~Part 13~

I had called him, useing a collect call on some random phone I had stumbled across. I was outside, it was dark, cold and the sky decided it hated me or something because it was now crying tears of laughter at me. It made me feel so damn sick, I didn\'t want to move or anything. I didn\'t know what the hell I was going to say to Kira when he got there.

Could I tell him that I was... well... raped by Yoji? Was it even rape? I didn\'t know, nor did I care at all. It didn\'t matter to me anyways. Just right now, my body hurt so much. I couldn\'t think straight. I was suprised that I was able to remember the number for Kira\'s house.

But then it was an easy number, and Kira had made a jingle of it so I would always remember. 887-7911. Double eight, double seven, call for help 911. I thought it was stupid, but.. well... it really did help when you can\'t even think right. And somewhere while sitting under a fire escape by the phone, on some random street in which I don\'t remember, I began to sing the stupid little jingle. Had to keep my mind occupided.

And let me tell you, that really does. I waiting, hopeing that Kira would hurry. I wanted to get into a house and just sleep for the rest of my life. The rain was freezing, and burned some of the cuts inflicted on my body. A light sizzling sensation upon the skin. While a acke in my lower sectioin. What a day wasn\'t it? First of getting beaten into a bloody pulped, then getting, well... malested by your supposed best friend. But then again, Yoji was always like that when on something or drunk.

I really couldn\'t blame him. Becaue I knew he.. well always lusted after me. Thats why Kira never wanted me around. Because Kira never wanted to share me I guess. Selfish bastard.

I hear foot steps, like running. The water slattering about. Heavy breathing, and I see foot steps infront of me. I look up, eyes blinking wildly at the rain just laughing at me. Kira kneals down infront of me, looking me over, examining me with his eyes.

Next is his hand, warm and wet he touches a random bruise and a cut on my cheek. I look away, bitterly jerking my head from his grasp. He shakes his head at me, then a coat is put on my shoulders. I look up at him, he\'s standing again with a hand outstreached. I know what he wants me to do, show my weakness and accept his offer of help. I stand on my own, wishing to remove the coat that is protecting my already shivering body from the cold wet rain.

He put an arm around my waist, and pulled me to him. I leaned onto him, suddenly so damn tired from everything that happened. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I hate being treated like a child. I hated it more than anything in the world. And here I am, Kira has me in bed, and drinking something warm. I believe its tea. I can\'t really tell. I\'m dressed in his sweat pants and a sweat shirt. Not anything like I would have liked to pick fromt he closet in which he has.

I\'ve been placed his his bed. Its a full size bed, bigger than mine and up high off the ground. His room is dark. Pretty. And neat. Oh so god damn neat. He doesn\'t have much decorating the walls. His room always were like this. A bedside table with a lamp and an alarm clock. Inside the bedside table would be little nick nacks like the jewlry that he sometimes decides to wear. The bed up against the wall, with a window just above it, were sun will shine down on you in the morning. Dark black sheets, with charcol pillows. A dresser off on the wall, were the ajoining bathroom is, next to the door. I always thought it funny, he had a closet and a bathroom all in one. A huge closet, long and well.. full of things. I believe some of his father\'s things were in there as well. His bathroom was green. A beautiful shade of jaded green and amber. Perfect as well, nothing moved. It didn\'t feel like a home or anything. The dresser would have absolutely nothing on it. Not a thing. Inside would be clothing that wouldn\'t be hanged. On the door would be a full length mirror that would just sit there. It always bugged me, that mirror. Cause, you could see yourself on the bed. Or almost anywere. It was shoved away in the corner where the door was. Shoved away. Kira did have a television that was rarely on. It sat on thedresser as well.

The room was small.

Very tiny itsy bitsy. And it fit Kira. Who was laying next to me, looking at me, a hand resting on my stomach. His golden eyes, thoughs eyes I love and hate looking at me with pure concern and a hint of amusement. He always was amused by something.

I know he wanted to know what happened. And I didn\'t have the heart to tell him. I didn\'t want him to know, he\'d kill Yoji. And I wouldn\'t want that. I knew that Kira wasn\'t afraid of killing people. He never was. He always looked at death with laughter. Everytime I tired to kill myself or mention death, or warn that I was going to kill him one day, he would just laugh. He never took me seriously when I told him I wish he would drop dead.

\"What happened?\" oh his voice is like silk. I love it so damn much. It makes me sick with need. But of course, I wasn\'t in any shape to do much. Plus he would never let me get what I want from him. He always stopped me whenever I went alittle to far. Sure we fuck around, hell I\'ve gottem tom to give me head once. Just once though. Then he told me to go to sleep and just forget it happened. Of course, everytime I think about his mouth now, I always remember what it had felt like with it wrapped around me, sucking at me... so on so forth.

\"Couldn\'t make it all the way to your house,\" I said neautrally. I looked away and set the cup on the bedside table, noting at the wood. He never would tell me what it was, but it was pretty. If I could ever spiff up my room and hwhatwhat ever I wanted in it, I would pick that type of wood. It was dark and rich, but still soft and suttle. Very nicely done.

I knew he was going to get agitated with me, putting it on there without anything underneith it. But oh well, he made a \'hn\' sound and leaned over me putting a random book in which I hadn\'t notice under neith it. He looked down at me, \"Get some sleep.\"

Oh how nice he could be to me. I nod, and roll onto my side, as he settles down next to me. Comfort seeks me, and I drift off...


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To Be Continued...