Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ The Mistakes We Make ❯ Epilogue VIII - The Mistakes We Make ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

EPILOGUE - PART VIII

Takeru rapped the backs of his knuckles on the door and waited; a few moments later, the door opened and Jun looked out.

"Oh, it's you," she said, although her tone wasn't nearly as disappointed as her words. "You here to see Daisuke?"

Nodding, Takeru said, "Is that okay?"

"I don't know." The door closed a little, and Takeru winced as he heard Jun yell into the apartment, "Hey Mom, is it okay if Takeru sees Daisuke?" The reply wasn't audible, but when the door opened up again, Jun said, "Come on in."

It was precisely sixty days after Daisuke had been checked into what Taichi referred to, semi-jokingly, as the loony bin. The subject had become somewhat verboten after Miyako had taken offence at the term and all but physically attacked Taichi over it. She'd become very sensitive to any hint that Daisuke was abnormal in any way, or that he wasn't the same person that he'd been before the Kaizer had captured him; once the full force of her rage had been turned against Taichi for attempting to make light of it, nobody else dared bring it up around her. The taboo nature of Daisuke had spread from there, until it was as if the rest of the Digidestined preferred to pretend that he didn't exist.

Takeru didn't approve of this attitude.

However, Daisuke was out now, released from the hospital because the Motomiyas' insurance refused to pay for more than sixty days' worth of inpatient hospitalization, and because the Motomiyas couldn't really afford to keep Daisuke in there without financial aid ... this information had come to them via Yamato from Jun. So had the news that Daisuke had come home just that afternoon. It was early evening now, and Takeru, who'd been unable to obtain permission to visit him in the hospital, couldn't keep himself away any longer. He wanted to know that Daisuke was going to be okay. Someday.

"He's in his room," said Jun, throwing herself down on the couch after Takeru had taken off his shoes and the door was closed.

"How's he doing?"

She shrugged as if she weren't interested, but Takeru wasn't fooled. Her shoulders were too stiff and the way she refused to make eye contact with him gave her away.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," he said, but Daisuke's sister just shrugged again and kept her eyes glued on the television screen. After a moment, Takeru gave up and walked toward Daisuke's room.

He knocked lightly on the door and waited for an answer. When none came, he called softly, "Daisuke?"

The door flew open and Takeru took a step back, startled. Daisuke gazed at him from the doorway with the same blank expression as a deer staring into the headlights of a car. The two boys stared at each other for perhaps ten seconds before Daisuke blinked and glanced downward at the floor.

"Hello," he whispered.

"Hey," said Takeru. "Can I come in?"

Daisuke didn't answer, but he did move aside, so Takeru took a step into the room and shut the door behind him. The last time (and only time) that Takeru had seen Daisuke's room, clothing and school items had been strewn all over the floor, and Daisuke's desk in the corner had been overflowing with all of the detritus of a young boy's life. Someone had straightened up in his absence, though, and the place was neat and tidy now. A small suitcase stood against the wall beside the bed, doubtless full of still-packed clothes and other things that Daisuke had had with him in the hospital. The neatness of the room and the presence of the suitcase made it look as if Daisuke didn't really live here anymore, but was just visiting for awhile.

"How are you doing?" asked Takeru. "I bet you're glad to be home." He glanced around and spotted Chibimon dozing on the bed, wrapped around Daisuke's Digivice and D-terminal.

Daisuke shrugged and sank down to kneel on the floor. Takeru dropped to the floor as well, sitting cross-legged. Daisuke looked out the window, down at the floor, up at the ceiling ... everywhere except at Takeru. "It's okay," he said after a moment, sounding distinctly less-than-enthused.

Well, perhaps Takeru could understand why he'd be a little quieter than usual. The blonde-haired boy soldiered on forward, determined not to make an issue out of it. "You won't believe how Miyako's been acting," he said. "It's like she got her period and has been on it for two months solid. Patamon told me that Poromon is almost afraid to talk to her, because she bites his head off every time he does. Or, she would if he weren't all head."

Was that a twitch he spotted at the corner of Daisuke's lip? Hoping it wasn't just his imagination, Takeru added, "So how was the hospital?"

There was another shrug and a pause before Daisuke answered, but the pause wasn't as long this time. "It was okay," he said.

"Your sister said they let you keep Chibimon."

He nodded. "Lots of rules though."

"Like what?" Takeru wasn't sure he was really comfortable with asking Daisuke question after question, but he didn't know any other way to get the boy to talk. While Daisuke paused again before answering, Takeru racked his brain for something he could bring up, something that would catch Daisuke's interest and wouldn't end in a question mark.

"Um," said Daisuke, and there was another pause before he said, "Chibi wasn't allowed to leave my room, or bring me anything. And I had to be in group on time and there was no soccer except for the older kids."

Soccer. That was one thing Takeru was pretty sure would interest Daisuke, although it disturbed him that he couldn't think of anything else. Soccer was the obvious answer, something Daisuke fiended for blatantly, but surely he was interested in other things as well. Why didn't Takeru know what they were? "That's a shame," he said. "That you couldn't play, that is."

"It was cold out anyway," said Daisuke. He looked down at his hands in his lap a moment and seemed to hesitate, so Takeru changed the subject.

"Hikari was asking for you," he said. "Wanted to know when she could come see you." Takeru almost wished he hadn't said this, as soon as it was out of his mouth. It was unfair of him to be jealous of Daisuke under these circumstances ... but the fact was, he was. It was true that Hikari had been asking after Daisuke. Asking after him a lot. She was the only one of the Digidestined, as luck would have it, who was willing to brave Miyako's touchiness to bring up the taboo topic at all. Hikari's good nature made her gravitate naturally toward injured puppies and abandoned kittens, and Daisuke's situation was exactly the sort of thing that drew her; Daisuke's broken quietness radiated neediness, and Takeru was honestly afraid that she would become instantly attached once she actually saw him. It wouldn't require much for Hikari to become completely absorbed in caring for someone like the person Daisuke was now. The fact that she'd never fallen in love with an abandoned kitten before was cold comfort.

So it was with something almost like relief that Takeru heard Daisuke say softly, "That's nice." He said it very blandly, as if he'd rather talk about anything but. However, it did leave Takeru at something of a loss, not knowing what to say or ask next.

Had he always been this ... awkward ... around Daisuke? Had he ever had anything to talk about with him? Takeru glanced up at the ceiling and tried to recall a time that he'd actually talked with Daisuke, and couldn't bring one to mind. They'd always been doing things together, whether it be fighting in the digital world or romping around Odaiba, but they'd never had a lot to say to one another. This new Daisuke didn't seem like the sort who would be inclined to go play some pinball at the local arcade, though, and that left Takeru grasping at straws.

"So ... um ..." He scratched the back of his head, and said, "If you don't want to talk about it, I can shut up."

"No, it's okay," said Daisuke. "I don't mind."

"You sure? I know I wouldn't want to talk about ... what happened ... if I were you." Shit, he couldn't even say it. If you don't want to talk about how you were raped and tortured for a couple of months and then had to spend the past two in an insane asylum, let me know. On second thought, perhaps not saying it straight out was for the best.

"No, really." Daisuke seemed to be perking up slightly, and it warmed Takeru to see it. He still wasn't looking straight at Takeru, but his deflected gaze was straying closer. "It's okay. Can I ask you something?"

Nodding, Takeru said, "Sure!"

"What were you thinking?" The edge of the door behind Takeru became Daisuke's new focus. "When you found me and took me away I mean. What were you thinking when you did that?"

"Uh ..." Of all the things Takeru had imagined he would be asked, this wasn't among them. "I just wanted to get you out of there, man. I mean, shit. I don't know what I was expecting to find, but that went way beyond everything. I had trouble sleeping for a week. Did he do that to you ... um ... very often?"

Daisuke nodded a little, and jammed his hands down between his thighs.

"I'm so sorry," said Takeru, meaning it. "I swear, I was looking for you from the very start. I tried so hard."

"That's okay," said Daisuke softly. He looked away again, not that he was really looking at Takeru in the first place.

"You know," said Takeru, intending to lighten the mood somewhat and seizing upon the first thing that came to mind, "I heard Ken's parents went ballistic when the cops told them he was a suspect. They threatened to bring my mother to court because of what I told the cops, but I guess their lawyers talked them out of it." Daisuke's expression did not change, and Takeru faltered to a halt. Damn, didn't he have anything else to talk about?

Unexpectedly, Daisuke saved him from his stumbling. Looking fixedly at the floor, Daisuke said, "I'm glad you came over."

"Oh yeah?" Takeru seized on this eagerly, as it broke the uneasy silence. "I'm sure some of the others will want to come visit you tomorrow."

"I'm glad you came by yourself," said Daisuke.

"Why?"

The wall suddenly captured Daisuke's interest. "I'm not sure I want to see them."

"Why not?" Takeru shifted forward slightly. Why wouldn't Daisuke want to see the other Digidestined?

"I'm not ... like ... the rest of you anymore." Daisuke's fingers picked at the carpet while his eyes found the corner between the ceiling and the wall. "I don't think they'll want to see me either. But I'm glad you came by yourself."

Suddenly, Takeru felt very uncomfortable, but he didn't know why. "What are you talking about?"

"I understand the Kaizer," said Daisuke in a whisper. "I understand a lot now that none of the rest of you do."

"Like ... um ... what?"

Daisuke hesitated, then slowly held out his hand. It took Takeru a few seconds to figure out what the other boy wanted, but then he extended his own hand, wondering what was up. Taking Takeru's wrist, his gaze finally settling on the blonde's face, Daisuke leaned forward and pressed Takeru's palm against his groin.

Instinct took over, and Takeru snatched his hand back as if burned, his mind screaming blank outrage at the utter unexpectedness of this. A trace of moisture lingered on his fingers, and he rubbed both hands against his thighs. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, still able to feel the hardness of Daisuke's erection against his skin. "What the hell was that!?"

Daisuke flinched, looking back down toward the ground. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry? You're sorry!?" Furiously, Takeru kept rubbing his hands against his pants legs, wanting to erase the feeling of having touched another male in a sexual way, no matter how unintentionally. "That's just utterly disgusting, Daisuke! Why the hell did you do that?"

Takeru jumped a little and had to scoot back then, because Daisuke leaned forward to put his hands on the floor. The cinnamon-haired head bowed, and Daisuke stammered, "I-I-I'm sorry, I just ... I don't know if he wants me back and ... I'll do anything you want, just please, Takeru, please fuck me."

"What!?" Jumping to his feet, Takeru took several steps backward, away from the boy on the floor. "You did not just say that!"

Visibly cringing, Daisuke pressed himself even lower to the floor. "Please don't be angry," he whispered.

By all that's holy, what did Ken do to him!? This was not Daisuke, crouched here on the floor in front of him and whimpering. Takeru didn't know who this person was. Something tickled him along his hairline, and Takeru reached up to rub the droplet of sweat with the back of one hand. After a period of electric silence, Daisuke began to whisper again.

"I need him so bad, I think about him constantly, but I don't think he wants me back. Nobody's fucked me for months, I think I'm going to die, please Takeru, please. I'll do whatever you want. I'll give you whatever you want, just please, please!"

Part of Takeru responded to that heartbroken plea in a way that would have made Hikari proud - he wanted to raise up Daisuke off his knees and dust him off and make everything the way it had been before. Another part of him recoiled in horror that proud, cocky Daisuke had been reduced to this; that same part contemplated murder with Ken at the receiving end. A third part twisted in sickness and disgust at what was being proposed to him. This was a purely automatic reaction, one that didn't depend on such petty, unimportant things such as thought. No part of Takeru seriously considered taking Daisuke up on his offer, not even for a second.

Takeru bumped against something, and he shot a quick glance over his shoulder to discover that he'd backed himself against the door. He knew he should say something, but couldn't imagine what. What on earth was a guy supposed to say in a situation like this? Even if he were to actually contemplate doing what Daisuke wanted, how on Earth would he go about it? Not that he was actually contemplating it ... but Takeru had only the vaguest notion of how to have sex with a girl, much less another boy. Leaving aside all of the revulsion that coursed through him at the very idea, how would he do something like that?

When the silence dragged on a little more, Daisuke murmured, "Please, I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, I swear. I ... I'll call you 'master' if you want, just ..."

A strangled squeak cracked through the air, and Takeru realized that it came from himself. He clapped one hand over his mouth, feeling nauseated, and his body geared into action completely on autopilot. Before he knew it, he had opened the door, flung himself through it, and shut it behind him, putting a physical barrier between himself and the utter, utter wrongness that was huddled on the floor of Daisuke's room. His heart pounded in his chest, and another bead of sweat crept like an insect through his hair.

Behind the door, he could hear muffled sobbing, and sanity demanded that he distance himself from Daisuke's twisted psyche as quickly as possible. Striding out through the Motomiyas' apartment, he waved distractedly to Jun, who asked him something concerned that he didn't really hear, jammed his feet into his shoes and all but ran out of the apartment.

Just outside of the apartment building, Patamon winged down from a streetside tree and became a good, solid weight clinging to his hat. "What's the matter?" asked the Digimon, picking up on his partner's distress immediately.

Takeru didn't answer right away, and after half a block, Patamon jabbed him in the head with a clawed paw. "Hey! I asked you a question!" said the Digimon, sounding indignant.

Stopping to put his back against a building, still on the relatively quiet road that fronted Daisuke's apartment complex, Takeru said, "Sorry, Patamon."

"That's okay!" said Patamon, forgiving him easily. "So what's wrong?"

"It's Daisuke. Don't worry about it."

"Why not? What's the matter with him?"

"He's ... not Daisuke. I don't know what else to say. He's not like how he was before." Takeru folded his arms around himself, as the late February wind attempted to find a way under his vest.

"Did he attack you? Why were you running away?"

"No, he didn't attack me." Why had he run away? Out here in the crisp, chill air, with the sounds of civilization murmuring softly all around him, the poison of Daisuke's proposition seemed less real, less dangerous. Takeru took a deep, cleansing breath. "He just ... surprised me, I guess. Really, really surprised me."

"With what?" Curse the Digimon's curiosity!

"Well, he ... erm ... wanted me to do some of the things that Ken had been doing to him." Shit, he still couldn't say it. Not even to his own Digimon. Takeru felt his face getting hot and prickly, and he reached up to uncomfortably scratch his neck.

Patamon was silent for a few seconds before offering, "I guess that's what he got used to."

"I guess," Takeru agreed. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Come on, let's go home."

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy. His mind kept replaying the conversation with Daisuke, wondering when it took the turn that it did, wondering if there hadn't been some better reaction to take. He was sure there had to be one - dashing out of the apartment certainly didn't rank high in the consideration department - but for the life of him, he couldn't imagine a different one.

His mother was out when he reached his apartment, and there was a message on the answering machine that turned out to be from Miyako, wanting to know how his visit with Daisuke went. Takeru erased it, turned on the television just for the noise, and stretched out on the couch while Patamon went foraging through the kitchen for food. Every once in awhile, he caught himself rubbing his palms against his thighs.

What had possessed Daisuke to do that? Was he really insane after all? Snippets of the conversation ran through Takeru's mind, he remembered thinking about soccer and Hikari and ordinary things, and then wham, he suddenly had his hand in Daisuke's crotch. Closing his eyes, Takeru tried to focus on the sounds of the news broadcast on the television, but instead he got Daisuke's voice running through his mind, one sentence in particular sending cold shudders through him.

I need him so bad, I think about him constantly, but I don't think he wants me back.

Scratching his scalp uncomfortably and with his stomach twisting, Takeru listened to Patamon humming quietly in the kitchen. Of course Daisuke had been talking about Ken. Too shocked and outraged at Daisuke's behavior, Takeru hadn't really picked up on it before, but of course that had to be it.

He needs Ken.

I just rejected him.

Chibimon had Daisuke's Digivice.

Fuck.

Takeru almost knocked over the phone in his haste to pick it up. Precious moments were lost while he tried to remember Daisuke's number, failed once, and finally succeeded. The phone rang three times, and each time seemed an eternity in itself, before Jun answered it.

"Hello?"

"Jun! Let me talk to Daisuke!" Takeru wasn't sure what he'd say to Daisuke. Apologize? Promise to screw him maybe? He didn't know yet, and didn't care yet either.

"This Takeru? What's the matter? Why'd you run out of here like that?"

"Jun, please, just let me talk to Daisuke, okay?"

"Okay, okay, just a second."

But, less than a minute later, Takeru knew that he was too late. Daisuke was already gone.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind Takeru, Daisuke broke down into anguished sobs. Takeru had been his only hope. Takeru was hope. Now there was none.

Talking to Takeru had been thrilling, and Daisuke had dared to let a hint of that hope creep into his heart. The sound of the blonde's voice ran down his spine like a spider, and every word held the thrill of dimly-remembered agony. Each sentence had stoked his hope a little higher, and hardened his cock a little more as he'd convinced himself that Takeru would have to agree to fuck him. Takeru was so nice, and seemed to like him so much. He wasn't the Kaizer, the beautiful unattainable Kaizer, but he was here.

And then it all came shattering down.

Daisuke wept quietly on the floor for several minutes, until the tears stopped and he could wipe off his face and nose; the dull tightness in his chest and throat wouldn't go away, but that was okay. He could deal with that. Sniffling, he sat up again and looked around, the ache in his penis driving him mad. He had to have it. He had to have it.

He realized then that he was willing to do nearly anything at this point to reach orgasm, including propositioning Takeru of all people. He hadn't really intended to do that, he hadn't set out from the beginning of the conversation with the intention of asking his friend to fuck him, but he had to get some sex. Masturbation wasn't an option ... his master had seen to that, and just the idea of touching himself in a sexual way left him cold with terror and unable to sustain an erection.

What had he done wrong? Why didn't the Kaizer want him? He thought about this constantly, and had yet to come up with an answer. He'd been obedient, he'd played the Kaizer's sexual games and endured the Kaizer's torture ... and the torture hadn't really been all that bad, had it? His master had told him many times that he was loved and wanted, and that the Kaizer was happy to have him for a pet. Frequently, he'd been told that he was beautiful, or that his skin was soft or delicious or just the perfect shade of caramel. He'd learned to worship his master, and had done it with the best of his abilities. Maybe it wasn't enough, though.

Groaning a little, Daisuke bent over, cradling the demanding, pulsing ache in his groin. No, life with the Kaizer really hadn't been very bad at all, and he was sure that if he could just see him, and talk to him, that he could convince the Kaizer to take him back. There was no other way. Takeru hadn't wanted him, and the blonde's rejection only made him more aroused yet. He had to have sex. Now.

And surely the Kaizer would take him back ...

Taking Chibimon with him wasn't even considered. Daisuke slid his Digivice out of the sleeping dragon's tiny paws but couldn't get at the D-terminal because Chibimon was sleeping on top of it. That was all right. He wouldn't need it. The window in his bedroom looked out onto the walkway that crossed in front of the apartment and all of the other apartments on this row, and as such it had a safety lock on it to prevent a mischievous child from opening it from the inside, and to keep anyone at all from opening it from the outside. Daisuke had figured out a way to get past the lock a long time ago.

He was wiggling the window, trying to reach that certain angle at which the lock would jog over the stop and slide on up, when Chibimon said, "Where are you going?"

Freezing, Daisuke said, "Nowhere."

The bedclothes rustled as Chibimon sat up and hopped off the bed. "You're going to the Kaizer, aren't you? Why don't you hate him, Daisuke?"

"You wouldn't understand," Daisuke whispered.

"You haven't tried to explain it! I don't get it! You talk to him in your sleep and whenever anyone says anything bad about him you get this look on your face like you're eating a sour lollipop! And you won't let me complain about him! And now you're trying to go see him and you were going to let me sleep right through it! Daisuke ... aren't we partners anymore? Don't you want me around? Whatever I did, I'm sorry, just don't leave me behind."

Daisuke fell against the window frame, closing his eyes against the tears. Chibimon sounded so much like his own heart ... "He'll just spiral you again," he whispered. "You have to stay here."

"Well, I don't care! I'm supposed to protect you!" He felt Chibimon wrapping his arms as far around his leg as they would reach. "Besides, I won't let him spiral me again. He caught me off guard last time, but this time I'll be ready and I'll fight back!"

Feeling his resolve weakening, Daisuke said, "Maybe ... He says he loves me. Maybe I can talk him into leaving you alone."

"Sure!" Chibimon agreed readily. "If he loves you, he'll do things for you, right? That's the way it works, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Daisuke. "Yeah, that's the way it works."

Chibimon clambered up onto his shoulder, and Daisuke wrenched the corner of the window up to the correct angle. Then he raised the window completely, peeked out onto the walkway to make sure no one was witnessing his escape, and slipped out.

Behind him, in the apartment, the phone rang.