I Left My Heart In Paris [Inactive]

[Brave]

Gene wheezed out a chuckle, his lungs burning. Coughs racked his small frame as he tried to curl into himself, curl away from the pain. His face turned into the lap below him, nosing at a bony knee. How he hated bruised ribs. The heat when you breathed, the pain the followed each lung full of air. It would be at least two weeks before he could Hands smoothed through his curls once more, his coughs subsiding.


"Ya' guys look like I'm dyin'. I've had worse though. I jus'-jus' need ta' rest fo' bit." The Cajun mumbled, his one good eye glazing over as he recalled the two broken ribs and wrist. He would remain strong, "I'm still bettah' lookin' den' yo' ass Damien." His attempt at another chuckle had him wheezing once more.


The long pale fingers that gestured and prodded him to sit up could only belong to one person. He allowed his body to become loose, malleable, for the red head beside him. With a splitting headache, he propped his boneless neck on the back of the couch, his head lolling until his neck was at an uncomfortable looking arch. As he shifted he became aware of his damp t-shirt. "Why da' fuck am I wet, huh?"


~.~.~


Merriell let out a sigh of relief as the Cajun in front of him relied on his heavy, sarcastic wit, a sign that his concussion wasn't as bad as he had feared. "You silly man, only you could have such a thick head to brush off a concussion." He murmured as his gaze lingered on the bruising, his mind supplying that there were more than one attacker judging from the cuts. Tears pricked and burned at his eyes as his thoughts turned sour, while 'what-ifs' plagued him. 'This could have been a lot worse. Thank you lord up in heaven for watching over this good hearted man.'


Mer sniffled and gave Peter a watery smile and a nod of thanks before retuning to Gene. With clammy hands, he pulled the gaunt face of the Cajun towards the nearest light source, studying the cut on his cheekbone with a critical eye. His fingers gently, but firmly pulled two butterfly bandages right across the cut. The red head winced as his ears picked up a low hiss of pain as a result of his ministrations. With gritted teeth he tended to the cut above his left eye with the same deft motions, willing it to be over and done with. He couldn't tell if it was his bad heart or just the mere thought of causing the man in from of him pain, but his heart ached.


"Now, I want you to take four of these pills with food, and don't you fight me on this Eugen Shelton, so help me God, and if and when you fall asleep we will wake you up every hour on the hour to make sure your brain isn't seriously injured, you got that!?" Merriell's tone was low and serious as he glared at the hurt teen.


He watched with bated breath as the Cajun bit his top lip, his over bite pronounced till he looked more animal than human. With a smirk cast his way he heard a mumbled, "Mmm cher, if ya' don' know already, my brain was born messed up,' followed by a hacking chuckle.


Merriell's glare increased ten fold before he let out a biting, "Some best be telling me why and what you were doing walking home in the middle of the night."

 

[Esoteric Truth]

Peter snorted at Gene's words, and she couldn't help but feeling relieved as he spoke. She knew he would be okay, but it was another thing altogether to hear it from his own mouth. Smiling, she put her hands on the back of the couch and leaned slightly over it, looking at him. Even though he'd hurt her, especially in the way that he'd grabbed her face hard and thrown it away like she wasn't even human, she still cared for him. In fact, it her her so much because she cared for him. Because she had tried to open herself up to him. But he'd proved he was over all that when it came down to it. And so was she.


"You're wet because Damien here was a genius and instead of giving you a glass to drink he poured it all over you. And onto my couch," she muttered, giving a sidelong glance at the frenchman with a smirk. "But hey, you're awake so that's something. And no offense Gene, but you look like someone dropped you in a wood-chipper and tried to reassemble you. Still, you're right. Even woodchipper Gene looks better than hangover Damien." She grinned as she felt the tall teenager's cold glare settle on her.


Peter glanced over towards Merriell as he sighed and appeared to be on the verge of crying again. Oh don't be thanking me, Merriell. I'm the reason he was out there, and trust me, I didn't do this for you. I tolerate you Merriell and hell I even like you as a person, but frankly the way he looks at you and you look at him makes me want to hate you. She sighed and gave the redhead a look that could only be described as a mixture of pure jealousy and exasperation. She knew she couldn't blame the redhead. He'd done nothing wrong. His only crime was that Gene liked him better, and for the life of her she didn't know why.


"He was walking out there because I pissed him off," she said coldly, her eyes on the ceiling, her face contorted with anger and pain that was directed to herself. "Because I lied to all of you. My name is Petra. That little girl in those photos you were looking at? That's me. That's why he decided to go on a long walk, and why I went off after him because I wasn't about to let him out of my life like that. I realized it was about goddamn time to stop being so passive and stand up for something. When I got there he was pinned to a wall and then he started fighting them. I dragged him out of there and drove back here, which is the whole story in all its truth. There you go."

~~~*~~~

​

"Peter is wrong. Better looking than me? Ce n'est pas possible. Si vous cherchez le mot dans le dictionnaire beau mon nom est sa définition,"* Damien laughed, his eyes narrowed in feigned seriousness. How good it was to hear that wit once more, to hear for sure that his friend was okay. The concern in his face had not entirely vanished, but it was less present than it had been before. He glanced back over to Peter only to find some sort of dark bitter look in his eyes as he stared at Merriell. What the hell was that about?


He smiled at Merriell, almost apologetically, and shot a glare at Peter. And then he started talking. "My name is Petra." He-she was a girl. Damien blinked in surprise, shaking his head, and took a few steps backwards, his mouth frowning in disgust. Did she not know how Gene felt about lying? How much it took for him to share with others and to put trust into them? And all along she had been betraying that. No wonder his friend had gotten angry and stormed off. So really it was Peter- Petra's fault. He shook his had and crossed his arms.


"You nearly cost him his life. Why did you do it anyway? Do you think it would matter to us? Why did you not just accept the fact that you are female? You recognize that you are a girl, no? So why?"

 

[Brave]

"A wood-chipper, huh?" Gene slurred as his head finally lolled too far to the left and fell back across Merriell's lap, the soft linen of of his pants tickled the back of his neck, almost like corduroy, "Ne vous inquiétez pas mon ami. Vous serez toujours le plus beau de nous deux, mais je serai toujours la meilleure laïque. And thank ya' fo' da' wet t-shirt D."


His stomach began to roll, pitch, and heave at the mere thought of eating. He could already feel the heavy lump that would settle in his belly. Unused as it was. The pain that would accompany the digestive process that would be too quick for his body and mind to keep up with. Though listening to that tone Merriell drawled in his southern sweet as honey voice had him willing to do anything. No one ever tried to put him in his place with care as the primary motivator. Just like his mother, when he would crawl onto the couch with mud caked shoes and hands, and hair. 'Eugene Shelton, you best get cleaned up before dinner or so help me. Toujours avec la boue! Vous petit lutin.**' She would say with mirth in her eyes as she smacked at his arms and feet, as she would try to suppress giggles.


'Peter please don't say anything about tonight...' He pleaded, his eyes shut tight as his ear picked up the calm before the storm as Peter


breathed deeply before she began her tale of the night's events. His body stiffened as Damien's voice rose on his behalf, as Peter's self hatred radiated through her pores and into the the mood around them, as Merriell's body began to shake with anger underneath his head.


Don't worry my friend. You will forever be the better looking of the two of us, but I will always be the better lay.*


Always with the mud! You little hobgoblin.**


~.~.~





With Peter's harsh and unnerving gaze on his person, Merriell began to shift, his skin prickling from the heat in the other teen's eyes. 'We aren't enemies my friend, don't treat me as such.' He sighed as he found the strength to turn away and stare at the floor underneath his socked feet. When the familiar weight of Gene settled back onto his lap, his heart felt less constricted, less painful. In the short month of knowing him, Eugene, he became his air, his salvation. Damien a brother and confident. Peter was still a mystery. Always a sense that he was holding something back, hidden behind a shroud of smoke that the red head just couldn't penetrate.


His eyes widened, 'Petra..!? You were the cause of Gene's condition, his pain!?' His breathes became pants as he wheezed, the excitement proving too much for his poor heart. 'Lord, I pray that there is no truth to her words!'


"Damien, it's ok. It's all right. Peter must have had a reason. If I was taught anything in my short life, is that The Lord loves and accepts everyone of his beloved children. I accept you. Peter, or Petra, it makes no difference to me. You are family." Gene whispered, his gaze still fixed to the floor as he tried to steady his static breathing, "You didn't know that this would happen to Gene, and for that I don't blame you. Your secrets are yours to keep. I'm sorry you have had to keep a part of your self a secret."


He comforting hand ran up and down his calf in an attempt to calm him. Merriell allowed himself to stare down into the passive face of the Cajun on his lap with a small smile, before looking into Peter's stormy face. "You are still the Peter I have learned to care for."

 

[Esoteric Truth]

"Why? Because in my entire life no one had accepted me for who I was. I had embarrassed my brother, mortified my mother, and disappointed my father. I had learned that who I was was horrible. When I came to this school, I had an opportunity to be who I was without anyone knowing the wiser. And I took that. For once in my life I had an environment in which I wasn't called confused or a he-she behind my back. That's why," Peter hissed, glaring icily at the frenchman. "Haven't you ever wanted to just be yourself? To have people not know who you are? That's how I felt, and I had that opportunity."


She glanced back towards Merriell, silently thanking and cursing him at the same time. She thanked him for his kinds words and for standing up for her as a true friend would, but she cursed him for making it impossible to hate him. Not that she would have done well had she started to hate him anyway. It wasn't like Gene would take any attacks towards the redhead lightly. It wasn't hard to see how connected they were; it was in fact painfully easy.

~~~*~~~

​

Damien lifted his eyes in surprise at Merriell. Why was he taking her side? Of all people, the redhead should have been angry, should have stood up for Gene. But instead he just decided that Peter had a reason? Merriell was Gene's pet, and Damien had grown to really care for him. He was kind and compassionate and always there when the going got rough. But right now the frenchman wasn't so sure what a good friend he was. Peter had gotten their friend hurt, ultimately, because she had made a selfish choice. So why wouldn't Merriell do something?


"Merriell, why do you take her side? Reason or no, she caused him to be hurt. What reason enough is there for that? I cannot think of one justifiable for lying to friends. Can you? So why do you let that slide? I could care less if she is actually a boy or a girl. I care that she lied. I care that she is the reason my friend, my brother, is lying bruised here before us. Why is it that I am the only one standing up for him? Why is it that you do not do that for him?" he pleaded, staring intensely at the redhead. He couldn't understand why Gene always had to be the strong one. Gene would stand up for Merriell time and time again, but here it was apparent it didn't work the other way around.


"I am sorry your life has been hard, but so it has for all of us, and yet we are not liars. All of you know everything about me. I have not lied to you. Do not use a sob story to try and excuse your actions," Damien snapped, turning his gaze to Peter and curving his back so that he was at her eye level. "Look at me and tell me that what you did was not selfish."


"Damien, shut up. I wasn't trying to be selfish. I didn't exactly go to that school expecting to make friends, you know," she replied coolly, her voice quiet but with deep cutting undertones of anger that rippled from her like the waves in a still pool after a rock has broken the water's surface. "He's over it now, I think. So drop it. I didn't do it to deceive you. It wasn't malicious. I had made the decision to do that long before I met any of you, and by the time I met you and Gene it was too late."


"So why care what everyone else thought then?! Why do you keep it from all of us and then RANDOMLY on a day like THIS you break the news to him?" he roared, not even realizing he was shouting until it was too late and his voice was echoing along the walls. Peter stared at him for a moment blankly before a brief flash of anger and fear washed over her face. Slowly her face turned back to its normal look of indifference and she turned and walked to Damien, shaking her head. She rested her hands onto his shoulders and he stood there confused until she brought her knee up to his crotch. The frenchman visibly paled and dropped to the ground, his brows knit in pain.


"You just woke up my family, asshole. And I cared about what everyone else thought because after a long period of time of hearing shit like that, you start to believe it. And guess what? I get that your day was horrible. I was there when you got so drunk that you couldn't really speak anymore, and I took it upon myself to bring you into my home even though I knew by doing so I was putting myself at risk. And then you know what? I decided that rather than have Gene and all of you find out because someone in my family says something stupid, I would tell you all myself. So yeah, I broke the news on a day like this." She frowned above his curled form and looked up as she heard the trundle of footsteps coming down the stairs. Only one set, though. Lucas. The blonde teen entered the room with dark circles under his eyes, and he glanced briefly around the room before resting his eyes on Damien and Gene.


"Holy fuck, Pet- Peter. What did you do?" he asked, his voice audibly frightened. His hands hung limply by his sides like dead fish.


"It's okay. I'm only responsible for this one." Peter lightly tapped the groaning form of Damien with her foot. Turning back to the rest of them, she sighed. "Well guys, this is my brother, Lucas. Lucas, these are the guys. Great introduction. Go back to bed."

 

[Brave]

Every voice slurred into each other, a whirlwind of colors behind Gene's closed eye lids. Angry reds, sad blues, numb greys. It was painful to hear, or was that just his head? Hearing colors was probably not the best of signs. Peter's words were a deep purple, the red and blue interwoven until they were synonymous. He wished he had the ability to tell her-him-Peter that he knew and understood. He truly understood. Reinvention, more like rebirth. It was why he was here in the first place. The innate need to leave New Orleans and the family name Shelton along with it, where it could sink and decay in the smokey air and bog infested land. Here he was just Gene. Simple degenerate, and that was how he liked it.


Damien was a bright throbbing red. Twitching like a live wire, sparking blue with a hiss and cackle. He wished he could say thank you, but that would mean he accepted another's help. It meant he was weak. In a sense he was, seeing as he was laying there broken and beaten. He bet that is what Damien thought too when he first saw his once strong brother in arms shamed. In return, he wished to say thank you, and the cycle would repeat.


Merriell, sweet and precious Merriell. Panting and shaking Merriell, full of muted blues and smoggy greys, like a storm on the horizon waiting for the chance to pour down rain, or in his case tears. He smelled of self defeat. Strong enough to make him nauseous. 'Why didn't you stick up for me?' Gene would ask, voice terse and brows pulled tight, as a snarl would grace his lips. The perfect imitation of a rapid dog. At the same time, he would say, 'Thank you for being strong enough to forgive. Strong enough to see when one does not need another finger accusing finger pointed their way.'


There was too much shaking. Quaking. Pitching. Rolling. Gene shot up into a sitting position as Damien fell to the floor from a swift kick from Peter. "I'm goin' ta' be sick." He mumbled before standing on rickety knees and shambling in a zig zag pattern to the kitchen.


~.~.~


"I'm sorry you feel that way Damien, but I must stand firm in my beliefs. Peter doesn't need more angry words flung her way that you haven't said or that she hasn't told herself. You have every right to be angry, however to lay the sole blame on Gene's state, as bad as it is, on Peter and Peter alone isn't fair. Yes it was bad timing, but she has kindly offered her home to us in our inheberated state, and we need to respect that, bad timing aside." Merriell managed in between lung fulls of air, "I apologize for awakening your family Peter."


With wide red rimmed eyes, Mer watched as Damien fell to the floor with a crash. "Two wrongs don't make a right Peter!" He hissed, as he gently lifted Gene's head from his lap and onto the couch before kneeling at the frenchman's side, "Are you ok?"


With his slight and clammy frame, the red head pulled Damien to his feet, turning to Lucas as he did so, "I hope we didn't frighten you. I swear this isn't at all what it looks like." He called over, his voice breathy and tired.


When Damien was deposited on the couch, he was surprised to see Gene no where in sight, only to turn slightly and see his retreating form in the corner of his eye. With another deep sigh, he straightened his body out before heading in the cajun's direction, his tank clattering by his side.


He was met with the sight of Gene's protruding spine as he hunched over the sink dry heaving. "I'm sorry." He whispered, not knowing why, maybe it was for everything and nothing at the same time, as his hand came up and rubbed soothing circles on skin and bone.

 

[Esoteric Truth]

Damien
​

Damien staggered to his feet with the support of Merriell and winced as he was rested gently back onto the couch. He could hear the rushed feet of Gene towards the sink and felt a pit of guilt rise within him. This arguing wasn't good for Gene. Whether Peter had done a terrible wrong or not, it was best to shut up while he was still in her house and while Gene was in this state. The thing Damien couldn't understand was why he... she thought that kneeing him would help. Sure, it shut him up, but it didn't help her case at all. In fact, it seemed to just set her up for seeming more despicable, and in his pain Damien found himself radiating out a sickening amount of anger.


Although most of his anger was directed towards Peter, a substantial amount was towards Merriell. The redhead acted as if Damien was the one in the wrong. What kind of a man was he if he didn't fight to protect the honor of the one he really cared about? Especially when pride meant so much to Gene, when his own personal strength was one of the few things he had left and now he had not even that. He was in a weak and vulnerable state and what had Merriell done to make that better? Nothing. Nothing except appease Peter, that is.


"I am sorry, Gene. I will say nothing more as long as you do not wish it to be so," the frenchman murmured quietly, shifting uncomfortably. His pain still made red anger cloud his vision, but he breathed out deeply through his teeth, if only to attempt to calm himself down. "Revenez ici, mon frère. Je suis désolé. Je voulais juste ... tant pis. Je suis désolé. Pensez-vous que vous avez besoin d'un médecin? Une infirmière attrayant, peut-être?"


*Come back over here, my brother. I'm sorry. I just wanted to.... never mind. I'm sorry. Do you think you need a doctor? An attractive nurse, perhaps?

Peter
​

For a moment Peter stood by herself in that same position, Damien now moved to the couch, Merriell by Gene's side, Lucas off in the hallway wide-eyed. She looked at this destruction. This was her life standing before her and around her. Every little piece of it now trashed and fragmented from her in one way or another, all because of her. Perhaps Gene's state was not entirely her fault, but every rotten sick thing following it certainly had been. Her anger subsided and was replaced with sorrow. Sorrow for what she already had lost and for what she was losing.


Lucas, her brother, standing there. Confused, afraid, and watching her becoming something despicable. It had taken him a long time to forgive her for the bullying and embarrassment he faced everyday at school, all things that resulted from being related to her. Here he was not faced with that same treatment, but he was bearing witness to how it had all turned out for her. Even worse, Peter could see the guilt in his eyes, a feeling no doubt arising because he thought that he had pushed her to hide who she was so that he didn't have to feel like he had a freak for a sister anymore.


Merriell, her friend. While she had never been very close with him due to her own jealousy, she could have been if she wasn't so shallow. Here he was defending her, even as she had spoken to him sharply and glared at him. No doubt he picked up on that; he wasn't as naive now as he had been just a few months ago. And she was losing that too. At one point she had been the mediator, the calm one in the group. Hell, she had been that earlier today. But somehow she had pushed herself into this dark corner.


Damien. He was all but lost now, looking her with hatred and a reproachful glare. And she had hurt him. In her anger, she had actually physically hurt him, which in the long run would no doubt leave more than small wounds in their friendship. She was close to him. Not as close as she was with Gene, but he mattered to her. He was arrogant and self centered at times, but also clever and funny. For a long time it had just been the three of them, her and Gene and Damien, and when it came down to it she knew that he would have been there if he ever had to be. He was loyal like that. He chose Gene over her in this fight, which honestly wasn't surprising, and he had woken up Lucas, but she had hurt him as an outlet for her anger, not to shut him up. For that she hated herself.


Gene. She had already almost lost him once tonight, but had managed to salvage that by getting him back here. Now she was just burning those bridges once again, but not by doing anything against him rather destroying her relationships with their friends. It was showing a darker uglier part of herself. While normally she had control over the situation and was the peacemaker, now she had started up an enormous amount of problems. She had to stop this before she lost him and everyone else again.


"Lucas, please go to bed. I need to deal with some things," she muttered quietly, and the blond teenager frowned before nodding and walking back upstairs. "Damien, I'm sorry. I've done so much tonight I wish I could undo, believe me. The biggest one would be letting Gene run out of here and get himself in that mess, but I fucked up when I hurt you. You wouldn't have done that to me, I know. I can't say anything to make any of this better, honestly. I know that. I know you'll probably be angry at me for a long time to come, and I understand that." Peter sat beside him and he stared back at her with distrusting eyes and a grimace on his face.


"Peter, I am too tired to even know how to handle anything anymore. I need to deal with everything going on at my home and I need to think about all of this so that I don't say anything stupid, because there are plenty of things I would like to say right now, but all are things I am fairly certain would earn me no favor from Merriell. Just let me be," Damien grumbled in response, shifting away from her on the couch.


"That's- that's fair," Peter said, resting her crossed arms on her knees, her back arching as she stared down at the floor. "I'm sorry."


"I know."

​

 

[Esoteric Truth]

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