Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ I Remember in the Wintertime ❯ From Out of the Night ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Gregory Bara blinked once, twice, and then, for good measure, three more times at the figure standing on his stoop at 2 in the morning.

Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Angst / Romance | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 09.01.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 753 | Status: Work In Progress

He remembers himself mourning in the cold of winter when something would always manage to go horribly wrong. Ten years ago he promised that would never happen again. Only, the cold comes everywhere, the memories never stop, and there’s little heat to ease the pain.

Chapter One:

From out of the Night

Gregory Bara blinked once, twice, and then, for good measure, three more times at the figure standing on his stoop at 2 in the morning. Well it wasn’t really standing. I mean no one could really call someone who was lying with their face kissing the pavement, standing. Gregory nodded, yup that demon was definitely in the unconscious position.
The cold assaulted his bare chest and his pajama bottoms did little to hold the chill away from his legs. Wind moved through his close cropped carrot colored hair and blew bangs away from his face. He could see his breath creep out from between his chapped lips and had to squint his eyes against the cold wind that seemed to want to wake him up when he would have preferred to go back to sleep.
For a second he entertained the idea of going back inside and pretending he never heard a thump at his front door when he had been awoken by a beige and black kitten that always got annoyed whenever he didn’t fall asleep in his bed. Like most of his work nights he had fallen asleep over paperwork and hadn’t planned on moving.
He remembered his friends had always accused him of being a procrastinator, so it would stand to reason that he would totally ignore the being on his stoop turn right around and snuggle into his bed for the rest of the night.
A cold arm wrapped around his shoulders and a rounded chin rested in the bend of his neck contentedly. Gregory could just picture the inquiry in the dark green eyes, the slight rise of a thin blonde eyebrow, and the silent quirk in round lips.
“So,” the voice sounded suddenly beside his ear, he didn’t jump. “Are you going to invite your little friend in?” It asked.
Gregory frowned. Friend, he had not used that word to describe the relationship they had once shared in a long time. He hadn‘t been planning on using it anytime soon either.
He sighed, eyes still locked on the unconscious man. Idly he thought of a reason he could object to the question. With a dulled voice he said. “But he’s a demon.”
The voice that rose from the body scoffed. “Since when has that ever mattered? It’s not like you’re afraid of demons or unfamiliar with them.”
“What if this one is evil,” Gregory questioned.
The voice all but laughed and tsked disapprovingly with his tongue. “Bara, Bara, Bara. Who exactly do you think you’re fooling? If that demon was even remotely evil you would have disposed of it.”
With indignation Gregory protested.
“I only did that once. To protect someone and that was it.”
Gregory could feel the body shake with silent laughter against him and then shrug.
“Be that as it may, either kill it or bring it in to the house so that we can get some sleep. Besides you’re freezing the cat.”
With nothing more to say the cold body untangled itself from his and moved away. Gregory knew he was going back to sleep and silently he longed to do the same. Tiredly he yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes making up his mind in the process.
Slowly he looked around him into the dark cold winter night. His eyes roamed over the dark suburban street trying to pierce the blackness. When he found that his eyes were little more than useless on this moonless night he tried his ears. It was dead silent, only because the soft white crystals that rose above the streets and curbs seven inches were canceling out the sound vibrations that would usually be carried to his house on the wind. Gregory’s eyes searched for danger again, but, was slightly relieved that he found none.
Turning back to the demon at hand he bent down trying not to question over the situation that was unfolding before him. Gregory inhaled and then exhaled deeply promising himself a period of panic and contemplation later. With his eyes he took account of the small demon’s injuries and couldn’t even fathom a scenario where the man got there safely, without freezing to death, obtaining more injuries, or being caught by whatever had attacked him primarily.
~How the hell did you get here,~ he wondered , ~It’s a wonder you’re still breathing.~
There was a very large pool of blood beneath the demon and no matter how he tried the smell of it brought back memories he had longed to forget. He took a deep breath again, trying to clear his head of the past , and hoping to figure out a way to get the man inside without causing him further harm. He ran possible scenarios through his mind but none of them worked. He took a deep breath again and decided that he needed to get the man off of the snow covered stoop quickly or there would be no way of saving him.
Quickly he bent forward, gently slid his hands beneath the small demon’s body, and began to lift upward pausing only once when the injured man began to moan quietly in pain. Gregory tucked the demon against him and looked down where he had been. Blood stained the pure white snow flooding his mind with a similar scene he could recall with great pain and sorrow. He cursed softly beneath his breath and looked back at his bundle and the snow and wondered how he had suddenly fallen back into his old life, without himself knowing, in a matter of moments.
Gregory watched fresh snowflakes land on the tainted snow and thanked whoever was listening that it was suppose to snow for five more days and most likely the blood would be covered with freshly fallen crystals by morning.
Pushing dark memories away Gregory turned into the house and shut the door with his bare foot. Cradling the man against his chest he walked through his small living room not surprised to find it cold and dark. He headed for his hallway quickly flipping the temperature up a few more notches. When that was done he went to the hallway closet and pulled down a sheet he wouldn’t mind getting rid of. He then proceeded to cut through his dining room and into the kitchen flipping the light switch on as he made his way to the rectangular table in the corner. He was happy for once that he didn’t use the table often and began to spread the blanket over the wooden top. When that was done he set the man down and walked away.
Gregory cursed violently when he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his large first aid kit. Annoyed he began to search everywhere it should have been unfortunately, his search only proved that it was nowhere to be found. Frustrated he walked down the hall, pulling on an old band t-shirt as he went, and into the kitchen, reaching the counter he pressed the button on his coffee pot. He leaned his back against the counter and by any means necessary, avoided the corner in which the demon lay. The soft pad of feet alerted him to the presence of his cat.
She entered from the dining room and came around the island to sit comfortably in front of him swinging her bottle brush tail lazily. Her face and tail were black the rest of her fluffy body was a dark beige. Golden eyes glittered in the bright light of the kitchen that made it seem as though she was pinning him with a questioning look.
Sometimes Gregory swore she was his Mother reincarnated. When he was little and he had done something wrong or just was feeling troubled his Mother pinned him with that same soft questioning stare until he would crack. It still went the same way with the cat sitting in front of him.
He stared into those eyes and could practically hear his defenses shatter.
“What was I suppose to do? Leave him there? Believe you me I wanted to. If it’s one thing I don’t want to do anytime soon is revert back to my old life.” He explained.
The cat just stayed staring and swinging her tail and listening to what her master had to say. When he was done she curiously quirked her head to the side and continued to stare. Gregory felt highly put upon and tried to defend his actions once more.
“I don’t care if I’m meant to go back to that life I’ll die before I do. They’ll have to pull me from my grave.”
She quirked her head to the other side. Again Gregory caved.
“I know I’ve been having this ominous feeling lately, but that doesn’t matter, if he doesn’t wake up tomorrow I’m leaving his fiery ass in a shelter and walking away like I should have done in the first place.”
The cat seemed to narrow her eyes at that and pinned Gregory with a hard stare. He shivered.
“Come on now it doesn’t seem as harsh as it sounds. The man is a demon he can take care of himself.” Gregory reasoned to his cat pitifully.
The cat raised an eyebrow and pinned him with a doubtful stare as though to say. ‘If he’s as powerful as you claim, then why is he bleeding to death on my kitchen table?’
Gregory threw up his arms in exasperation and turned away from the cat settling on giving up the one sided battle. He never won any of them anyway.
The coffee maker beeped and he was quite relieved to have a distraction as he set upon making a cup just the way he liked it. Black with four sugars. His reprieve was short lived when he felt four sharp claws dig themselves in his ankle. Stifling a yell he quickly pulled his foot away only to realize that in his pain he forgot how close he was standing to the cabinets and proceeded to promptly stub his toe on the doors.
Gregory whimpered softly as he turned around to lock eyes with the offender. The beige and black cat still sat before him and was glaring at him indignantly as though to say, ‘don’t you turn your back on me young man.’
She promptly turned on her heel and walked away with her tail in the air.
Resolutely Gregory recognized this as her ‘follow me’ attitude and chomped down on his annoyance long enough to be led out of his kitchen into his living room and in front of his computer desk. The cat sat back down and looked up at him expectantly swinging her tail again. Still annoyed, he was about to question the cat on her reasoning when his eyes fell on a large white box with a red cross emblazoned on the front.
He refused to look at the smug cat as he snatched up the kit and headed back to his kitchen. He hadn’t remembered putting it there.
He walked to the kitchen table set the kit down on one of the chairs and began to prepare to work on the small demon. He went about pulling a large pot down from on top of his refrigerator, filling it with water, and setting it on the stove to boil. He then proceeded to pull every curtain and blind shut so the neighbors couldn’t see into his house. 2 in the morning or not there were still some early risers and insomniacs. With that done Gregory proceeded to return to the table and pull away what was left of the man’s black clothing.
For a second he hesitated, noticing for the first time that night, the demon’s face. For the most part it looked the same but aged. There were bags beneath his eyes and a few more scars he didn’t remember seeing upon his snow white brow and cheeks. Bangs fell in his eyes like always but his black and white hair no longer seemed to be gravity defying for it hung loose to softly brush his shoulders. The lids of the demon’s eyes were closed but Gregory still knew what color stood out in his mind and the cold glare of hate they would remind him of.
Nevertheless he had always loved the demon’s eyes, he had long stopped hating himself for that. Yet somehow even now he could feel the self hatred rise within him in the demon’s presence.
Snapping himself out of his mind he quickly set upon relieving the demon of his tattered clothing and when he was done he placed them in a paper bag and put his boots in front of the basement door. The only clothing that seemed to be remotely salvageable were his boots, his black cloak, and the white boxer briefs beneath.
The demon was covered in very severe looking gashes from head to toe. Bruises covered the parts of his body that weren’t cut open. Gregory could already tell that he would need to stitch some of them up. His trained eyes roamed over the creature’s body categorizing which would need stitching and which could heal with only a bandage. Firmly he pressed his fingers along the bruised body feeling for brakes or fractures. He found two broken ribs, three broken fingers, and a fractured wrist and ankle. Suffice it to say this demon wouldn’t be doing any fighting for a long while. Even with his fast healing abilities.
Suddenly he realized exactly whose body he was surveying and touching. Gregory blushed and looked away. Silently he cursed himself and his thoughts but was brought back to reality by a large hiss from the pot on the stove.
He jumped into action pulling a large bowl from a floor cabinet and brought it over to the boiling water. Removing the lid from the pot he poured some of its contents into the bowl, refilled the pot to the top, replaced the lid, and set it a boil again. He set the bowl in another wooden chair just within his reach and picked up a towel from off the counter.
Opening the first aid kit he pulled a small bottle of green powder from its depths and a pair of latex gloves. He slipped the gloves on his hands with expert ease and began mixing the powder into the hot water. The water turned a light shade of green and bubbled slightly.
He had put the kit together himself. It was filled with the normal first aid things but there were a couple remedies and herbs he had been taught to make in its depths.
Gregory picked up the towel and dipped it in the warm solution mixing it slightly as he ran it along the bottom of the bowl. Pulling the towel from the bowl he rung it free of access water and began gently cleaning the demon of blood and dirt so that the wounds could be seen. First is face then his upper half and finally his lower half. Gregory tried his hardest not to blush but he was sure by the time he reached the demon’s bottom half that he was as bright as a maraschino cherry.
Finally when he was done with the front of the demon he did the back and gave up the energy he exerted to fight his blush.
The soft feel of stale energy alerted him to his houseguest’s presence as he came up behind Gregory to resume his earlier position wrapped around him from the back.
Curiously Gregory stated, “I thought you were going to bed.”
The man didn’t answer instead he reached a hand around Gregory to ghost it softly over the demon’s chest.
“My my,” he said, “isn’t he built for his size?”
Irritated Gregory slapped the man’s hand away and tried not to probe too deeply into the other emotions that he felt.
“What’s wrong Bara?” The man teased.
Gregory snorted and ignored the other man as he set to work pulling a stitching needle out of the kit and threading it through with the green surgical thread.
“Is that a blush I see,” the man asked and Gregory could practically feel the mischievous smirk pull across the blonde’s round lips.
Gregory paused laying down the needle and thread and shaking the man off of him with more force then probably needed. He walked away with the dirty water in hand and ignored the blonde’s indignant look. He moved silently to the sink and poured the bowl’s contents down the drain. He proceeded to move to the stove, poor more water into the bowl, refill the pot and replace it on the flame, and take his place back in front of his kitchen table. The blonde did not resume his place on Gregory’s shoulder instead he lingered silently behind the carrot top trying to see through whatever wall Gregory had thought to arm himself with.
Unusually he took on a tentative tone as he asked. “Bara. Who is this man to you?”
Gregory stood silently, preparing the water again for his use, this time pouring a sky blue liquid into its depths watching as the new concoction turned a deep red color. He contemplated telling the man as he set the needle and thread into the water for a few seconds. Gregory knew that the blonde was aware of some kind of connection that had already been established between himself and the demon. However the blonde didn’t know how deep that connection was.
On a number of occasions the green eyed man had entered Gregory’s dreams without his permission and had come face to face with the demon now lying unconscious in front of him and a few others.
Shedding his old gloves and pulling on new ones he turned to face the man behind him. The man was handsome, all thin and lean muscle. Thick bright blonde curls covered his head and fell into dark green eyes. He wore beige pajama bottoms and was wrapped in a white sheet, both were ripped and stained in blood. The blonde’s beautiful tan skin could be seen from his shoulders up and he could see the rest of his kitchen straight through him. Had the man been alive he would have lusted after him.
Gregory was not startled by the man’s appearance. In fact this was the exact way he looked when they had first met. Being a ghost tended to leave one with few options for appearance.
It was his third year of college and he had just managed to find a beyond awesome apartment near campus and friends. It was affordable, it was beautiful, and best of all there was nothing supernatural going on within a 50 mile radius.
As most can probably deduce that last one didn’t last long, in fact, it didn’t even last past the first week.
Gregory would wake to his apartment destroyed on most days and when he left to find help by the time he got back it was all neatly replaced in the order it had been in the night before. He would come home to find the door would not open and things would constantly move from where he would distinctly remember putting them. The lights would flicker, the water would suddenly be turned on, and his kitten, at the time, wouldn’t even step foot in his bedroom. However, Gregory found he didn’t care he would not return to the dorms and loved the place too much to be thrown or scared out.
So Gregory stayed however on the nights things got really supernatural he would take some cash, some clothes and his keys and rush out the door to spend the night in his friend’s spare room in an apartment not too far from his own building.
Unfortunately on one particular night he did just that, having been driven out of his apartment by eerie wails and sobs that had bounced off of the walls, the lights had flickered continuously and there was a sound in his small hallway, that was situated outside of his bedroom door, as though someone was pacing back and forth along the smooth hardwood.
Obviously Gregory had been a bachelor then as he had been now and at the time of the ghostly presence he sat huddled around his covers in his living room trying to listen to the television. So the pacing noises, the sorrow filled sobs, and the flickering of the lights were all incapable of happening unless the trembling little kitten had suddenly mutated somehow into a telepathic, astral-projecting, being equipped with a pair of fully opposable thumbs all while sitting nestled against his side beneath the covers, than there was indeed a ghostly apparition afoot.
He was sure of it.
Finally he gave up grabbed his keys, his cat, his wallet, clothing and promptly left his apartment to its fit of irritation. He arrived at his friend’s apartment 10 minutes later and fully annoyed, he pounded on the door obviously unaware of the time, until his bedraggled friend answered quite upset about being woken out of much needed rest.
Grudgingly they contemplated exactly what to do about his ghost when his friend suggested that he find out why he had a ghost in the first place. Gregory did and had thought he had it all figured out until he was proven extremely wrong the night the ghost manifested itself in his living room and tried to kill him with his kitchenware. Thankfully his friend had gotten him out fast enough and had hired a exorcist who trapped the angry spirit inside of his own wedding ring ultimately setting another spirit free to rest.
Gregory had taken the cursed ring off yet still scowled at the memory. The ring had been bonded to his body and spirit which bonded the ghost to his body and spirit. He had been the only one powerful enough to subdue the poltergeist’s energy when he had refused to pass on. So now he was unable to leave the ring out of arms and his engery’s reach.
Gregory turned away from the man, David Mines, and carefully, with a practiced hand began stitching up the demon’s wounds, silently contemplating whether or not to answer the dead man’s question or whether to acknowledge that the other man had even spoken.
The man with a pulse spoke first, “who this man is, is none of your business. He’ll be gone as soon as most of his wounds are healed. Then we’ll all get back to our lives.”
Gregory turned an eye on the dead man and rephrased. “Well most of us anyway.” With that he willed the conversation to be over as he finished stitching one gash and prepared to stitch another.
Unfortunately, David’s curiosity had been peaked by Gregory’s unresponsive attitude. Slowly he moved to Gregory’s right elbow and stood close enough to make sure the redhead could feel the icy chill of his dead spirit. The other man shivered and the blonde was pleased with himself. For a second he surveyed the small demon’s body. Indeed he was not lying when he said that the small body was built for its size. Lean bulk rapped around the man’s arms, legs, and torso. Smooth white skin was pulled tight against muscles, perfect brown nipples enticingly dotted his pectorals, and the length that lay between his muscular thighs would have made him hard were he alive. He remembered seeing the unconscious man conscious within the larger man’s dreams. He was always just standing there staring him down with the icy cold glare wrought from rubies of a man that could and would kill.
Gregory did not turn his eyes up to the man next to him instead he was fully intent on ignoring him when a ghostly hand began to reach conspicuously toward the lower part of the demon’s anatomy. Gregory stiffened and his energy spiked. The blonde could feel it dangerously threatening his well being but he had to make sure of something so he kept inching his hand forward making sure that it was within the redhead’s sights.
Suddenly there was a large spike in the human’s energy and David’s hand stopped. Not of his own free will but he could feel pressure around his wrist as though a vice was gripping it, halting its movement, and making sure to hold it as still as possible. He couldn’t move it. He tried in vain to pull his hand free even tried to pull his wrist away with his other hand but it wouldn’t budge. Accusingly he turned his eyes up to the redhead next to him only to find himself staring at a face he had only ever seen once and then like now it frightened him.
Gregory’s eyes were smoldering and his jaw and brow were set in a firm scowl. His nostrils flared as he forced carbon dioxide out of them and he gave the ghost a look that plainly said, ‘if you weren’t dead I’d kill you but just because you are doesn’t mean I won’t try.’
The blonde was surprised and his suspicions were confirmed, he let his hand drop back to his side and let his other wrist be, locking his green eyes with the dangerous onyx.
“Don’t.”
The blonde raised an eyebrow that he tried to stop from quivering. He said nothing.
“Don’t,” Gregory intoned again a dangerous note to his voice.
The blonde still did not move and he did not look away. Gregory narrowed his eyes at the ghost’s unresponsiveness and commanded him again.
“Don’t.”
The narrowing of the taller man’s onyx orbs froze him even more that he practically stopped shivering. Gregory used his spirit energy to force more pressure around the blonde’s lifted hand so that he could feel pain. The blonde didn’t even notice until the pain became more fierce and spiked from his wrist and up his arms along dead and supposedly useless nerves. He yelped and tried to pull his hand away, when he found he couldn’t move it he whipped his head back to the redhead and locked eyes.
“Don’t,” was all the taller man had to say before David nodded his head in understanding and the pressure and pain left him. He quickly pulled his arm away from the demon’s body and cradled it against his chest while thinking quietly. ~Note: touching is probably off limits.~
The redhead’s eyes lessened somewhat in their ferocity only to be replaced by a new emotion that the smaller man couldn’t make out, but he could take the small hint that spread across the man’s face and he backed away from the table and Gregory until he stood in the doorway that led to the hall.
Gregory, trying to calm himself down, turned from the blonde and took up the stitching that lay before him. Emotions rolled over him like water causing him to feel uneasy and confused. With less than sturdy fingers he stitched intent on, once again, ignoring the cocky blonde.
He could not believe that the ghost would have the audacity to do such a thing. It was one thing to continuously poke, prod, and rub on Gregory, that usually couldn’t be helped, but to do that to someone else, while they were unconscious and naked was completely out of the question. The redhead was just seething, thinking about it. He was furious with the man for trying to touch the demon, but then was relieved when he finally pulled his hand back. Those were the regular emotions but the ones that had no place within him confused him to no end.
Maybe he was a little too angry or a little too relieved. Then there was that slight bit of jealousy and fear that he couldn’t seem to explain away with a sufficient excuse or that sadness that made his heart tighten, that he had no idea where it had come from or where the hell it was going. Finally in the end as he was starting to stitch another wound he settled on just plain and simple confusion. At least that he had an excuse for.
All these emotions racking through his body that had no clear end or beginning, of which he could see, made him all too much aware of just how tired he should be. It was 3:30 in the morning. Just an hour and a half ago he found the end result of one of his former comrades who had been through a brutal battle and come out alive, whether he won or not was not apparent, bleeding to death on his front porch, when he had finally gotten over the shock and his apparent bad luck that it just had to be the one he would rather stay away from, he had taken the fire demon inside laid him out on the table and, after some intense searching, begun dressing his wounds.
Gregory hated the confusion the demon’s presence caused and the fact that past memories where trying to float their way to the surface of his mind after he had spent over ten years trying to make sure they were permanently anchored somewhere far behind the feel of an elephant’s rectum.
Finished with stitching the front part of the demon’s body he went in search of a blanket to cushion the demon’s front from the hard tabletop. Throwing away yet another pair of gloves he went back to the hallway closet and reached for the doorknob only to stop short, there he was, Gregory Bara, staring back at him. He had thought that he had changed much in the years that had passed between his confession/disappearance. Only to be reassured by his best friend, while they were looking over an old box of photos, that he actually hadn’t.
They had had a fight over it but had made up later.
He thought that he looked older and wiser, that he looked as though no one from his old life would recognize him. He had wanted it to be that way had wanted it to count as a severing tie between him and his friends.
He let his eyes roam over his mirror image. His hair had grown just a tad darker from spending most of his time inside during the winter months. Nowadays he kept it close cropped having long ago discarded his teenage tastes. His skin had also grown darker from a tan acquired by three weeks in Peru that Summer. Through the confines of his t-shirt he could see his larger muscles trying to break free. After graduating he had found that extra muscles wouldn’t hurt after having to lift a full grown Bullmastiff off of the floor by himself. He had grown a few more inches making him look even more intimidating.
He looked back up into his onyx eyes and saw them harden in his decision. He wouldn’t be the little boy that the red eyed demon and known back when. He had changed. He would be mature and would not hold a grudge. He would not fall back into his old ways and he would be as far past the demon as emotionally and humanly possible.
The pace of his heart quickened.
Why did it feel as though he couldn’t keep his promise?
End Chapter One