Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction ❯ Starting Over ❯ Chapter 2
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Lemony Chocolate 
Anime/Manga: Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst / Psychological / Romance / Sci-fi | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 05.02.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 534 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Sorcerer Hunters Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst / Psychological / Romance / Sci-fi | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 05.02.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 534 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter 2
* * *
Zaha and his mother sat at the dining table waiting for Onion and Carrot to appear. Onion finally entered, practically bouncing into the room; pleasant satisfaction radiating from every pore as he cheerfully greeted his stepson.
"Zaha, how have you been doing boy?" he cried hugging the tall young man and clapping him on the back. "How's college life, getting any of those cute college girls to put out for you," he asked lecherously, wagging his eyebrows comically.
Zaha laughed at the sight hugging him back. Onion was his idol, always there for him, ready and willing to expend time and money on him. Why just the other day, he'd surprised him with a brand, new fire-engine red Mustang. All his friends were envious of how generous his stepfather was with him.
"Actually, I've managed to get quite a few girls to put out for me," Zaha laughed back at his stepfather.
Carrot sidled into the room, limping slightly as he quietly made his way to his chair, wincing in pain as his sore ass and back made contact with the chair. He looked up into Moss's cold, mocking eyes and quickly averted his gaze.
Zaha and Onion separated going to their respective seats. Zaha took note of how Carrot had winced as he sat down and thought with an inward sneer, 'What's the matter pretty boy, daddy rode your ass too hard, you little whore.' He loved his stepfather; he just had a hard time reconciling this man with the one he knew was fucking his own son. Therefore, he blamed Carrot for tempting him, corrupting him. He despised the boy. But wanted him too. He burned to feel that slim body writhing against his in passion. However, Onion possessed the little boy-whore, and Zaha hated him for that. This ambivalence between love and hate drove spikes of confusion into his soul.
They had their usual quiet dinner, Onion remarking that Stella Church was arriving in America either late this week or the following week.
"And how will this affect us," Moss asked emotionless as they finished their dessert.
"Not by much," Onion admitted, "Perhaps a few dinners with her family, a little socializing. You know the routine."
"Hmm…I heard that she always comes with a large entourage of bodyguards and servants. I heard a rumor that her son was some sort of genius, and was adopted. Is it true that she is single and never married," she asked indifferently, not really caring unless it interrupted her comfortable life and position in society.
"I really don't know about everything else but I do know she's single," Onion replied. "You know it's very curious that no one has ever really seen a picture of her son. The other children that she travels with, the boy and girl, are always photographed at some party or event, but never him."
Carrot sat silently through the discussion, waiting for dinner to end so he could get some rest. His young body ached from the wicked abuse. He and the Misu sisters were supposed to go to the movies in a couple of days and he needed to be somewhat rested up. The sisters were cutting classes at college in order to take him.
Finally, the dinner was over. He didn't move until he saw Moss and Onion get up. Then he carefully leveraged himself out of the chair. H knew better than to cry out loud from the pain riding his body.
"Thank you Moss," he said politely, going through the usual after-dinner ritual, remembering with an inward shudder the first time he forgot. "Dinner was delicious as always."
"Why thank you dear, why don't you go to bed. You look like you had a rather.....hard day," she said with mock concern.
Carrot kept his eyes downcast and his body still as he replied, "Thank you. Father, if I may be excused." He turned to Onion and bowed slightly, wincing in pain.
"Sure, go ahead. Anybody want to catch a movie with me," he said looking around as Carrot limped away.
"Sorry darling, I'll have to take a rain check," Moss said smiling as she turned away and went to bed.
"C'mon, I'll watch a movie with you, old man," Zaha answered.
"Oh man, I'll show you old man," Onion cried out in mock anger, then acted as if his back was paining him. "On second thought, I'll show you some other time." And with arms companionably around each other's shoulders they retired to the den to watch movies.
Carrot heard the laughter and wondered just what was it about him that made his father treat him like this. He didn't try to do anything to his precious Zaha, Carrot thought bitterly. Hating the young man fiercely, hating himself for staying, he just wanted to die and get it over with. Wearily he trudged into the bathroom and stepped into the shower stall fully clothed.
Carefully, relieved to be able to voice his agony, he turned on the shower and let the warm water beat down on him, soaking through his clothes. He watched the water turn pink as the water soaked through his blood encrusted clothes. Every now and then he tugged gently to see if the clothes had loosened enough from the bloody marks striping his body to allow their removal.
His waterlogged sweater hung off his body, stretching to his knees. It pulled at his narrow shoulders as he gradually worked his way free from the neck, dropping the sodden material in the tub and pushing it behind him. He gritted his teeth as he unfastened his pants and gently pushed them over his hips. His abused body shook with pain as he twisted his hips and lifted his legs, working the pants off his dully-pulsing body.
Cautiously he maneuvered his slowly stiffening body around so that his back faced the spray of water. Harsh sobs of pain escaped his mouth as the water pounded down upon his lacerated flesh, opened the marks, and allowed the water to cleanse and ease his pain. The water swirling madly down the drain changed from pink to red then slowly back to pink again. One more thing to do, he thought grimly knowing that this would hurt the most. He shuffled forward, leaned forward and placed his forehead against the wall. He took a deep, steadying breath, reached back and spread his cheeks. He almost howled at the stinging pain, watching with glazed eyes as the clear water abruptly turned red, holding this position until the water in the bottom of the stall was clear again.
Carefully, he left the stall and gently patted himself dry taking care that the marks didn't start bleeding again. He reached into his medicine cabinet for one of the many antibiotic creams and smoothed the stuff into the many lash marks covering his body, and got into bed naked, face down. He knew that HE would be along soon to put on more of the cream. He fell asleep, only waking quickly and quietly when he heard someone enter his room. He didn't relax as the figure bypassed his bed and went into the bathroom. The light came on, there was the sound of the cabinet being opened and closed, and the lights went off.
Onion sat beside the bed looking at the lacerated back of his son. He loved the marks decorating the golden flesh. Slowly he worked the cream into the rigid back, making sure he covered each mark with the soothing cream. Enjoying the pained moans coming from the boy, he slowly pulled the sheet back, revealing the naked globes of flesh of the boy's abused ass. He smoothed his hands over each cheek, slowly massaging the flesh, enjoying the resistance he felt in the boy. He parted the cheeks and, bending down, flicked his tongue against the clenched muscle. He smirked at the way the boy tried squirm away from his hateful presence. He chuckled into the torn flesh before giving it one last swipe of his tongue. He put a large blob of ointment on his finger and slowly massaged it into the cringing flesh. Twisted delight suffused him at the sight of the boy flinching, clenching his hands in fear and hatred. He loved watching the boy's impotent rage at what he was doing to his body.
Finally, he finished his ministration to the tortured flesh and pressed a kiss to the back of Carrot's neck as he whispered, "It shouldn't take you more than a week to heal. I'll be back to ride your beautiful, tight little ass next week." He reached back and cupped a tensed globe.
He left. Carrot finally allowed himself to cry. Harsh racking sobs shook the boy as he cried himself to sleep, curled upon himself for protection.
* * *
"Do you think he'll like me?" Marron Church asked his best friend nervously. He was pacing back and forth, anxious about meeting his brother who the Misu sisters were bringing to meet him. He nervously fingered the key around his neck, his only link to a dead woman.
Gateau looked at his usually calm and collected friend and nearly laughed, "Sure, he'll like you. You're his otooto; of course he'll love you. Beside, you know after that meeting we had with Mrs. Misu and her girls how important it is to get your brother away from that sick fuck of a father." He rage grew as he recalled the meeting they had had with the Misu family four days ago.
* FLASHBACK *
"Mrs. Misu," Dota said smoothly into the phone, "You don't know me but I work for Stella Church as her personal assistant. She's very interested in meeting you and would like to know if you and your family are available for dinner tomorrow night?"
"Why, certainly, I wouldn't mind having dinner with Ms. Church after her generous donation to the Cancer Society," Cinnamon replied flattered and excited about attending dinner with the most influential woman in the Western world. Stella Church dined with kings and queen, met with dictators and presidents and she wanted to have dinner with them. She felt faint as they talked. She couldn't wait to tell all her friends.
"Very well then, we will see you at eight tomorrow," Dota said as she finished the call. "Okay, it's all set for tomorrow night."
"Do you think she knows anything," Marron asked quietly, staring out the window.
Stella's eyes softened as she looked at her son. She blessed the beautiful woman that she had met that fateful night, grateful to her for bringing her boy into the world. She was single and childless by choice. She never thought that she would enjoy having children around until her sister and brother-in-law died in a plane crash leaving behind two lonely little children clutching each other. She took them in and found that she enjoyed having the children around. Then came little Marron. So needy and sad after his mother Apricot had died, leaving him alone. He had lost his beloved niisan and now his mother was gone.
Nothing they could do would soothe his frantic cries for his niisan while his mother lay dying. Gateau tried holding him, but the little boy protested his hold crying "You not niisan." He only wanted his niisan. They finally found a cure for him, a stuffed rabbit in the mother's ragged bag. He clutched the rabbit to him fiercely, finally able to sleep.
After his mother passed away, he was even more lost, and dependent on the stuffed animal, rejecting them; dragging it around everywhere he went; talking to it; holding it; sleeping with it clutched in his arms. Her heart went out to the woebegone little boy. She fell in love with his beautiful golden eyes, and she was determined to keep him. After all, she had promised his mother to keep him away from his father, whoever he was, and to protect the little boy. She called her lawyers and they strong-armed the necessary adoption through. It may have been a little questionable, but perfectly legal. She made sure that she covered all her bases just in case the father did come back. She gathered her new family and left America.
Her happiest day was the day they all started calling her Mama; that was when she knew that they were a family.
This was the first time they had been back in fourteen years. She had had people investigating every aspect Apricot's life and it had taken them fourteen years to put together a very disturbing picture about the senior Glace, which she hadn't had the heart to tell Marron yet. Suspicion and innuendo wasn't enough, she needed proof and she hoped that the Misu woman could provide it.
"Don't dwell on it, honey. Whatever happens, we will get your brother away from Onion Glace," Mama said hugging her son tightly to her, glad that he hadn't stiffened up as usual. She smiled down into the normally emotionless eyes. If she was right, she would do whatever she had to do to get that boy away from his father. Even if I have to kill him myself, she thought coldly.
The Misu family arrived at the palatial mansion and was ushered into the living room. There Stella Church warmly greeted them as she introduced them to her family.
"And this is my son," she concluded gesturing to a boy looking out of the window. He turned to face them, his face in the shadow.
Cinnamon squinted, he looked familiar somehow. Her eyes widen and she screamed as he came further into view, "Apricot!"
"No, not her. Her son," was the quiet reply from the boy.
"How? Why?" she sputtered unable to take her eyes off the boy. His uncanny resemblance to his mother caused her to began crying as she walked towards him. She did not notice Gateau and Eclair protective stances to either side to him through the veil of her tears.
She touched his face gently and quickly pulled him into a hug. "You're alive, you're alive. Oh god forgive me, Apricot; I believed that fucking bastard! I believed that bastard! You were my best friend and I believed him," she screamed falling in on herself in despair, clutching her stomach in pain at how she had been tricked and betrayed into giving up.
"Mama," Tira and Chocolate cried out running to their grief-stricken mother.
Dropping to her knees and keening in pain, she rocked back in forth at Marron's feet, unaware of anything but her pain. Marron dropped swiftly down and drew her into his embrace, holding her as she screamed her pain, rocking her, soothing her as she cried convulsively into his chest.
"I looked for you. I swear I did, until he showed me the bodies. Oh god, oh god, he showed me the bodies." She moaned weakly into his soaked shirt. Marron's eyes closed, stunned, as he realized what she was saying.
"Shhhh, it's okay, everything alright. Please stop crying. You're going to make yourself sick." Comfortingly, he rocked the sobbing woman.
"Go fetch Mille and tell him to bring a tranquilizer," Stella ordered in a whisper to Eclair as everyone watched, riveted to the scene.
"But I believed him," the woman moaned low in her throat.
"You had no choice," Marron whispered against her temple, before pressing gentle kiss there, still rubbing her tenderly. "What else were you supposed to do?" He felt her wild grief slowly easing. He pulled away gently and watched as she tilted her face up. Her eyes searched his face, seeing his mother in every line and plane. Her mouth worked convulsively as she gently traced his features. She smiled slowly, tearfully and pulled him into a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry that I'm behaving like a big baby," she laughed through a tear-clogged throat. "Where's your mother? I'm really mad at her for not coming to me when she left that bastard." Eagerly she scanned the room for her friend.
"I'm his mother," Stella stated quietly stepping forward. Marron braced the stiffening woman in his arms.
"I'm sorry, I mean his real mother," Cinnamon said not meaning any insult, wondering at the tense silence in the room.
"She is my real mother," Marron said behind her. His hands fasten firmly on her suddenly shaking shoulders a she realized her friend wasn't there. "Apricot died fourteen years ago." She stiffened, breathed deeply, and tried to control herself.
"How did she die?" she asked quietly as her girls ran to her and hugged her to them. Her eyes were steady on Stella Church, who nodded approvingly.
"We almost ran her down when we were here about fourteen years ago. She had apparently been badly beaten and was suffering from exhaustion and lack of food," Mille said as he entered the room.
"She fell in front of the car and seemed very distraught, we put her and the child"-he nodded at Marron-"Into the car and drove home. She died within four days of various complications including internal bleeding…" His voice trailed off.
"She made me promise to hide him from his father, and at the end she tried to tell me someone or something named Mainski. Do you know what she meant by that?" Stella queried quietly.
Cinnamon turned and looked at Marron and smiled. "Before she left, she gave me this locked box and told me to hold on to it for her. She told me that it was to protect the children. So I did."
"Yeah, but if it's locked, how do we get it open?" Gateau demanded with obvious frustration, growing annoyed at the eerie smile on the woman's face.
She walked to Marron and gently lifted the necklace he wore and revealed a key. "Marron's key," she said softly, "Not Mainski."
"Good lord, I should have thought of that," Stella exclaimed looking at Marron and the key he always wore; that he had been wearing for fourteen years, each time replacing the old chain as it broke.
He frowned. "I remember Mama telling me, no matter what, to never take it off, and I've never did."
* * *
Zaha and his mother sat at the dining table waiting for Onion and Carrot to appear. Onion finally entered, practically bouncing into the room; pleasant satisfaction radiating from every pore as he cheerfully greeted his stepson.
"Zaha, how have you been doing boy?" he cried hugging the tall young man and clapping him on the back. "How's college life, getting any of those cute college girls to put out for you," he asked lecherously, wagging his eyebrows comically.
Zaha laughed at the sight hugging him back. Onion was his idol, always there for him, ready and willing to expend time and money on him. Why just the other day, he'd surprised him with a brand, new fire-engine red Mustang. All his friends were envious of how generous his stepfather was with him.
"Actually, I've managed to get quite a few girls to put out for me," Zaha laughed back at his stepfather.
Carrot sidled into the room, limping slightly as he quietly made his way to his chair, wincing in pain as his sore ass and back made contact with the chair. He looked up into Moss's cold, mocking eyes and quickly averted his gaze.
Zaha and Onion separated going to their respective seats. Zaha took note of how Carrot had winced as he sat down and thought with an inward sneer, 'What's the matter pretty boy, daddy rode your ass too hard, you little whore.' He loved his stepfather; he just had a hard time reconciling this man with the one he knew was fucking his own son. Therefore, he blamed Carrot for tempting him, corrupting him. He despised the boy. But wanted him too. He burned to feel that slim body writhing against his in passion. However, Onion possessed the little boy-whore, and Zaha hated him for that. This ambivalence between love and hate drove spikes of confusion into his soul.
They had their usual quiet dinner, Onion remarking that Stella Church was arriving in America either late this week or the following week.
"And how will this affect us," Moss asked emotionless as they finished their dessert.
"Not by much," Onion admitted, "Perhaps a few dinners with her family, a little socializing. You know the routine."
"Hmm…I heard that she always comes with a large entourage of bodyguards and servants. I heard a rumor that her son was some sort of genius, and was adopted. Is it true that she is single and never married," she asked indifferently, not really caring unless it interrupted her comfortable life and position in society.
"I really don't know about everything else but I do know she's single," Onion replied. "You know it's very curious that no one has ever really seen a picture of her son. The other children that she travels with, the boy and girl, are always photographed at some party or event, but never him."
Carrot sat silently through the discussion, waiting for dinner to end so he could get some rest. His young body ached from the wicked abuse. He and the Misu sisters were supposed to go to the movies in a couple of days and he needed to be somewhat rested up. The sisters were cutting classes at college in order to take him.
Finally, the dinner was over. He didn't move until he saw Moss and Onion get up. Then he carefully leveraged himself out of the chair. H knew better than to cry out loud from the pain riding his body.
"Thank you Moss," he said politely, going through the usual after-dinner ritual, remembering with an inward shudder the first time he forgot. "Dinner was delicious as always."
"Why thank you dear, why don't you go to bed. You look like you had a rather.....hard day," she said with mock concern.
Carrot kept his eyes downcast and his body still as he replied, "Thank you. Father, if I may be excused." He turned to Onion and bowed slightly, wincing in pain.
"Sure, go ahead. Anybody want to catch a movie with me," he said looking around as Carrot limped away.
"Sorry darling, I'll have to take a rain check," Moss said smiling as she turned away and went to bed.
"C'mon, I'll watch a movie with you, old man," Zaha answered.
"Oh man, I'll show you old man," Onion cried out in mock anger, then acted as if his back was paining him. "On second thought, I'll show you some other time." And with arms companionably around each other's shoulders they retired to the den to watch movies.
Carrot heard the laughter and wondered just what was it about him that made his father treat him like this. He didn't try to do anything to his precious Zaha, Carrot thought bitterly. Hating the young man fiercely, hating himself for staying, he just wanted to die and get it over with. Wearily he trudged into the bathroom and stepped into the shower stall fully clothed.
Carefully, relieved to be able to voice his agony, he turned on the shower and let the warm water beat down on him, soaking through his clothes. He watched the water turn pink as the water soaked through his blood encrusted clothes. Every now and then he tugged gently to see if the clothes had loosened enough from the bloody marks striping his body to allow their removal.
His waterlogged sweater hung off his body, stretching to his knees. It pulled at his narrow shoulders as he gradually worked his way free from the neck, dropping the sodden material in the tub and pushing it behind him. He gritted his teeth as he unfastened his pants and gently pushed them over his hips. His abused body shook with pain as he twisted his hips and lifted his legs, working the pants off his dully-pulsing body.
Cautiously he maneuvered his slowly stiffening body around so that his back faced the spray of water. Harsh sobs of pain escaped his mouth as the water pounded down upon his lacerated flesh, opened the marks, and allowed the water to cleanse and ease his pain. The water swirling madly down the drain changed from pink to red then slowly back to pink again. One more thing to do, he thought grimly knowing that this would hurt the most. He shuffled forward, leaned forward and placed his forehead against the wall. He took a deep, steadying breath, reached back and spread his cheeks. He almost howled at the stinging pain, watching with glazed eyes as the clear water abruptly turned red, holding this position until the water in the bottom of the stall was clear again.
Carefully, he left the stall and gently patted himself dry taking care that the marks didn't start bleeding again. He reached into his medicine cabinet for one of the many antibiotic creams and smoothed the stuff into the many lash marks covering his body, and got into bed naked, face down. He knew that HE would be along soon to put on more of the cream. He fell asleep, only waking quickly and quietly when he heard someone enter his room. He didn't relax as the figure bypassed his bed and went into the bathroom. The light came on, there was the sound of the cabinet being opened and closed, and the lights went off.
Onion sat beside the bed looking at the lacerated back of his son. He loved the marks decorating the golden flesh. Slowly he worked the cream into the rigid back, making sure he covered each mark with the soothing cream. Enjoying the pained moans coming from the boy, he slowly pulled the sheet back, revealing the naked globes of flesh of the boy's abused ass. He smoothed his hands over each cheek, slowly massaging the flesh, enjoying the resistance he felt in the boy. He parted the cheeks and, bending down, flicked his tongue against the clenched muscle. He smirked at the way the boy tried squirm away from his hateful presence. He chuckled into the torn flesh before giving it one last swipe of his tongue. He put a large blob of ointment on his finger and slowly massaged it into the cringing flesh. Twisted delight suffused him at the sight of the boy flinching, clenching his hands in fear and hatred. He loved watching the boy's impotent rage at what he was doing to his body.
Finally, he finished his ministration to the tortured flesh and pressed a kiss to the back of Carrot's neck as he whispered, "It shouldn't take you more than a week to heal. I'll be back to ride your beautiful, tight little ass next week." He reached back and cupped a tensed globe.
He left. Carrot finally allowed himself to cry. Harsh racking sobs shook the boy as he cried himself to sleep, curled upon himself for protection.
* * *
"Do you think he'll like me?" Marron Church asked his best friend nervously. He was pacing back and forth, anxious about meeting his brother who the Misu sisters were bringing to meet him. He nervously fingered the key around his neck, his only link to a dead woman.
Gateau looked at his usually calm and collected friend and nearly laughed, "Sure, he'll like you. You're his otooto; of course he'll love you. Beside, you know after that meeting we had with Mrs. Misu and her girls how important it is to get your brother away from that sick fuck of a father." He rage grew as he recalled the meeting they had had with the Misu family four days ago.
* FLASHBACK *
"Mrs. Misu," Dota said smoothly into the phone, "You don't know me but I work for Stella Church as her personal assistant. She's very interested in meeting you and would like to know if you and your family are available for dinner tomorrow night?"
"Why, certainly, I wouldn't mind having dinner with Ms. Church after her generous donation to the Cancer Society," Cinnamon replied flattered and excited about attending dinner with the most influential woman in the Western world. Stella Church dined with kings and queen, met with dictators and presidents and she wanted to have dinner with them. She felt faint as they talked. She couldn't wait to tell all her friends.
"Very well then, we will see you at eight tomorrow," Dota said as she finished the call. "Okay, it's all set for tomorrow night."
"Do you think she knows anything," Marron asked quietly, staring out the window.
Stella's eyes softened as she looked at her son. She blessed the beautiful woman that she had met that fateful night, grateful to her for bringing her boy into the world. She was single and childless by choice. She never thought that she would enjoy having children around until her sister and brother-in-law died in a plane crash leaving behind two lonely little children clutching each other. She took them in and found that she enjoyed having the children around. Then came little Marron. So needy and sad after his mother Apricot had died, leaving him alone. He had lost his beloved niisan and now his mother was gone.
Nothing they could do would soothe his frantic cries for his niisan while his mother lay dying. Gateau tried holding him, but the little boy protested his hold crying "You not niisan." He only wanted his niisan. They finally found a cure for him, a stuffed rabbit in the mother's ragged bag. He clutched the rabbit to him fiercely, finally able to sleep.
After his mother passed away, he was even more lost, and dependent on the stuffed animal, rejecting them; dragging it around everywhere he went; talking to it; holding it; sleeping with it clutched in his arms. Her heart went out to the woebegone little boy. She fell in love with his beautiful golden eyes, and she was determined to keep him. After all, she had promised his mother to keep him away from his father, whoever he was, and to protect the little boy. She called her lawyers and they strong-armed the necessary adoption through. It may have been a little questionable, but perfectly legal. She made sure that she covered all her bases just in case the father did come back. She gathered her new family and left America.
Her happiest day was the day they all started calling her Mama; that was when she knew that they were a family.
This was the first time they had been back in fourteen years. She had had people investigating every aspect Apricot's life and it had taken them fourteen years to put together a very disturbing picture about the senior Glace, which she hadn't had the heart to tell Marron yet. Suspicion and innuendo wasn't enough, she needed proof and she hoped that the Misu woman could provide it.
"Don't dwell on it, honey. Whatever happens, we will get your brother away from Onion Glace," Mama said hugging her son tightly to her, glad that he hadn't stiffened up as usual. She smiled down into the normally emotionless eyes. If she was right, she would do whatever she had to do to get that boy away from his father. Even if I have to kill him myself, she thought coldly.
The Misu family arrived at the palatial mansion and was ushered into the living room. There Stella Church warmly greeted them as she introduced them to her family.
"And this is my son," she concluded gesturing to a boy looking out of the window. He turned to face them, his face in the shadow.
Cinnamon squinted, he looked familiar somehow. Her eyes widen and she screamed as he came further into view, "Apricot!"
"No, not her. Her son," was the quiet reply from the boy.
"How? Why?" she sputtered unable to take her eyes off the boy. His uncanny resemblance to his mother caused her to began crying as she walked towards him. She did not notice Gateau and Eclair protective stances to either side to him through the veil of her tears.
She touched his face gently and quickly pulled him into a hug. "You're alive, you're alive. Oh god forgive me, Apricot; I believed that fucking bastard! I believed that bastard! You were my best friend and I believed him," she screamed falling in on herself in despair, clutching her stomach in pain at how she had been tricked and betrayed into giving up.
"Mama," Tira and Chocolate cried out running to their grief-stricken mother.
Dropping to her knees and keening in pain, she rocked back in forth at Marron's feet, unaware of anything but her pain. Marron dropped swiftly down and drew her into his embrace, holding her as she screamed her pain, rocking her, soothing her as she cried convulsively into his chest.
"I looked for you. I swear I did, until he showed me the bodies. Oh god, oh god, he showed me the bodies." She moaned weakly into his soaked shirt. Marron's eyes closed, stunned, as he realized what she was saying.
"Shhhh, it's okay, everything alright. Please stop crying. You're going to make yourself sick." Comfortingly, he rocked the sobbing woman.
"Go fetch Mille and tell him to bring a tranquilizer," Stella ordered in a whisper to Eclair as everyone watched, riveted to the scene.
"But I believed him," the woman moaned low in her throat.
"You had no choice," Marron whispered against her temple, before pressing gentle kiss there, still rubbing her tenderly. "What else were you supposed to do?" He felt her wild grief slowly easing. He pulled away gently and watched as she tilted her face up. Her eyes searched his face, seeing his mother in every line and plane. Her mouth worked convulsively as she gently traced his features. She smiled slowly, tearfully and pulled him into a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry that I'm behaving like a big baby," she laughed through a tear-clogged throat. "Where's your mother? I'm really mad at her for not coming to me when she left that bastard." Eagerly she scanned the room for her friend.
"I'm his mother," Stella stated quietly stepping forward. Marron braced the stiffening woman in his arms.
"I'm sorry, I mean his real mother," Cinnamon said not meaning any insult, wondering at the tense silence in the room.
"She is my real mother," Marron said behind her. His hands fasten firmly on her suddenly shaking shoulders a she realized her friend wasn't there. "Apricot died fourteen years ago." She stiffened, breathed deeply, and tried to control herself.
"How did she die?" she asked quietly as her girls ran to her and hugged her to them. Her eyes were steady on Stella Church, who nodded approvingly.
"We almost ran her down when we were here about fourteen years ago. She had apparently been badly beaten and was suffering from exhaustion and lack of food," Mille said as he entered the room.
"She fell in front of the car and seemed very distraught, we put her and the child"-he nodded at Marron-"Into the car and drove home. She died within four days of various complications including internal bleeding…" His voice trailed off.
"She made me promise to hide him from his father, and at the end she tried to tell me someone or something named Mainski. Do you know what she meant by that?" Stella queried quietly.
Cinnamon turned and looked at Marron and smiled. "Before she left, she gave me this locked box and told me to hold on to it for her. She told me that it was to protect the children. So I did."
"Yeah, but if it's locked, how do we get it open?" Gateau demanded with obvious frustration, growing annoyed at the eerie smile on the woman's face.
She walked to Marron and gently lifted the necklace he wore and revealed a key. "Marron's key," she said softly, "Not Mainski."
"Good lord, I should have thought of that," Stella exclaimed looking at Marron and the key he always wore; that he had been wearing for fourteen years, each time replacing the old chain as it broke.
He frowned. "I remember Mama telling me, no matter what, to never take it off, and I've never did."