Song Choice: Red And Black— Reignwolf. This is my favorite song by far and will likely be included in a couple more chapters, especially because this song can be WALTZED TO. My writer's brain explodes every time I hear it. 

Max. 

"Alright, you...you.., you stupid...." Chip draws in a sharp breath. He has to. He's glaring at me, blocking the moonlight with his shoulders, his fists still shaking. There's blood on his shirt; mine. A dark, blotchy mass that I see against the swirl of colors that makes up his tee shirt. I try to smile up at him; the tape won't let my mouth make the motions, so I half-lid my eyes coolly, like a cat. So he knows that I'm winning, I'm always winning.

We're outside the apartment complex, the car crushed in a sea of junkers. I can tell where we are because of the stagger of buildings across from me, the way sailors used to tell their position by the stars. Chip bares his teeth at me, a flash of white in the moonlight, and the other boys hang back behind him, like mere ghosts, background figures to the two of us. I'm still bound up, still bleeding. Everything hurts and I'm absolutely helpless—or so it seems. the corner of my lip twitches into a kind of attempt at a smile and Chip rips the tape off—hard. The pain stabs my face, this cloying, tearing thing. I bite back a yelp.

"What's the apartment number."

"I'll have to show you," I say, "you'll have to take me with you. If you go in by yourselves, he'll think you're a power harvester. He'll think you're trying to kill him." This is all true, and I try to look up at them, pleading like, all big brown Maxwell Preston eyes. Chip's still glaring, his lip still curled up in that snarl, his eyes still glowing with an angry sort of fire in the waning moonlight. "He's going to be terrified. Please, I know you don't trust me, but for his sake—"

Chip hooks his arms under mine, yanks me out of the car so hard I hit asphalt. I'll have to get used to the feeling of this, the being tossed around by the once-trembling boy I had so easily destroyed in the past.

I should've known this would happen, should've prepared, but at the time it was impossible to believe. Chip Hardwell couldn't raise his hand in class. Chip Hardwell couldn't even tell someone 'no.' The only thing he had ever done to challenge me was the taunting whisper he'd given when I about choked him to death the night he found out who I really am, the Masquerade parts, I mean. I could've never imagined him like this now, could've never imagined his knife in my thigh. The opening of the muscle, the warm blood swirling into the river water. I could never imagine my pain at his hands.

"Max, I swear to God, this better be real. And you better not have hurt him, you better not—" He leans in so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, can smell something syrupy sweet on it— "or I swear to fucking God I will kill you." His eyes are blue flames in the pale light, they pin me in them, hold me tighter then the humming ropes around my wrists. The words are angry but his voice is calm, and the effect is ghostly. His softness, his quiet voice, bound up in real violence. It's shit. He's willing to kill me. I can see it, there's nothing I can say to him that will ever make him forget my hands on his throat and my fist in his face. He wants to hurt me. I shrink back, smiling because I don't what else to do aside from maybe shake, or cry. Fuck.

"This is how you're going to sneak me in. Me, a tied-up pretty boy? Yeah, that's not suspicious at all."

Finn, the boy who's head I almost busted open on a cabinet knob a few weeks ago, steps up to him. In the moonlight, they look so similar. Tall, pale, lanky teens with a couple of extra bruises. The only real difference, aside from Finn's glasses, is that Finn is expressionless, and Chip looks like he'd just said he'd kill me, his face all red and twisted up. I draw in a deep breath to steady myself, but my hands are shaking. I can't feel them; I only know they're shaking because I'm looking at them. "We need to be careful. If anyone sees us—"

But Chip hoists me easily over his shoulder and I let myself go limp against him. Might as well get this over with. He flings the doors open, exposing the lobby, all flickering yellow lights, moldy carpet, exposed wiring, and the sounds of scurrying rodent feet. You know, the kind of stuff you want to see and hear in the place you live. But aside from the scratching of little claws and the ghostly squeaks which might be real or might be figments of my imagination, it's silent. All clear for them to drag my roped up self up the stairs without anyone to say, "hey, that looks illegal." Murphy's law, my life is a rollercoaster of 'suffering, something equally edgy?

I don't have much to say.

"Well?" Chip asks.

"We're going to get caught!" Finn hisses. Chip, stop! I know you're angry but—"

"Second floor, fourth apartment down. The key's under the doormat." I've been coming up with a plan, but it's a hell of a hail Mary, even for me. I think about the candles and the little skeleton ladies on Gideon's computer desk; if anything would help me, it would be whatever he prays to. So I'm not really aiming my prayers at God, I'm aiming them at her, the Saint of Death. Please, please, please.... "I can't feel my hands, Chip. I can't feel my leg. You need to untie me."

He shifts me farther up his shoulder so that my face is closer to the door. I hear the floor creak and faraway voices, but none of it close enough. I get no saviors. Chip shuffles up to the door and pulls the plastic fiber rainbow mat away. In seconds, we've crossed into Gideon's apartment; the smell of vanilla candle hits me hard. My heart skips a beat. I don't get a say in the plan. I have to use the plan, no matter how bad, or ethical, or whatever. None of it matters, none of it at all.

"Help! Help! Gideon, I'm sorry! Get away, they're here for you!"

Chip drops me. I slam to the ground hard, all the blood rushes to my skull, and I bite my cheek so hard I take a chunk out of it. It's not like I could've used my hands to break the fall, either, so I can only lie there, dazed for a second. "Gideon, I'm sorry, the power harvesters—"

"Shut up!" Kai's voice, high and squeaky. I lift my head and make out the big whites of his eyes against the shadows of Gideon's apartment. He bends down and cups a cold hand against my face. "Max, stop!"

I slam my foot against the ground, giving a couple of 'mmphs!' for drama's sake.

"Max? Max? Who's that!" Gideon's voice through the door is shaky, and it warms the very pit of my stomach like hot cider. Already I miss him, I need him. He bangs the bedroom door, and I watch with what I guess someone can describe as "amusement" as Finn and chip struggle to drag the couch off of the door. It had taken me maybe a minute. Finn's face flares red and Chip has to grit his teeth, talking in his strained singer's voice.

"Are—you—okay?" The words come clipped between his grunts as the couch scrapes on the floor. I let myself smirk.

"Who are you? What are you doing with Max?" Gideon's voice trembles. 

"No, no," Finn says. He shakes his head as if Gideon can see him through the door. "I don't know you, and you don't know me, but you have to believe me! He lies to everyone about everything, says whatever he can to get what he wants. He's just trying to use you. He's dangerous."

"Mmph!" I ham it up and let my voice crack on the sound. The acting feels good. "Gideon, I was just trying to protect you..." I say it as loudly as I can behind Kai's muffling hand. With a couple of pushes and several grunts of effort, The two boys slide the couch out of the way and fling the door open at last.

Gideon stumbles out of the room, wild-eyed. One of the prettiest sights I could ask for, those silky black curls, his button-up tight against his chiseled arms. You can see all the lines that make him up, the press of his muscles against his skinny jeans. I'm surrounded by pretty boys, all the time, and I can't say I mind it. "Max?"

I shake my head theatrically and give him a whimper; Kai holds me tighter against him so I can only give Gideon big eyes. 

"Who are you?" Gideon repeats. "Holy shit, there's blood on the floor—Christ!" He makes the sign of the cross over his chest. Every time I've seen him cross himself, it's always after I say something particularly dumb, and he has this knowing little smile on his face. But when he does it now, I see the religion in it. His face is hard and the gesture is just a flicker of motion, something out of reflex, something he doesn't even seem to know that he's doing. When he's with me, he always does it so slowly, so lazily, never like he's really using to call up to someone. "Get out!"

Chip draws in a shaky breath. "No, you don't understand. Max is a supervillain. He used me and he's going to use you! I--we--can't leave you."

Gideon's standing stock-still, all the color drained from his face. All I can see are the white feathers flexing on his arm, the tattoo almost glowy against the darkness. I try to meet his eyes, they're dark and cool and i drink it all him, the warmth of those eyes, the warmth of someone wanting me, caring about me. "No, that doesn't sound right. Do you see yourselves? Do you expect me to believe you're the good guys here? You have my friend tied up on the floor of my apartment, and he's bleeding! You expect me to believe he's the one that hurt you? That he's the supervillain here?" His words are a gush again, and it's a wonderful sound.

Chip grits his teeth. "I was you! Max used me too, the moment I wasn't convenient to him he beat me! Just fucking hit me! Do you think I'd lie about that! I don't want it to happen to you too!"

Gideon walks up to the kitchen. He doesn't look at them, he doesn't look at me. He just pulls open one of the drawers open, and yanks out a gun. I yelp behind Kai's hand; I can't help it. It doesn't matter who's holding the gun, just seeing the barrel, a thumb resting on the trigger, it makes me trembly. "Get the fuck out."

"Whoa, hey," Finn says. He flings his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "Just, hold on, let us explain."

"No, really, that's okay." Gideon laughs, harsh and humorless. "I think I've heard enough. You can leave now."

"Wait!" Kai rips his hand off my face. "This doesn't look good, I know. We probably should've thought this out better. So, um." I feel his hands in the ropes, feel them pulling.

"Gideon, you can't listen to them! I, I was trying to protect you."

Chip looks at me, and I've never seen so much disgust in a human's face. And I saw Monet's face when she tore my mask off, and that's pretty hard to beat. Got the full snarl, got the clearly unintended flinch back in revulsion. 

Gideon's still holding the gun, but he pops it into one hand, gangster style. I've never seen someone hold a gun flipped on its side, not seriously. He shuffles toward me, still trains the gun on Kai. The boys freeze, don't even try to stop him as he puts his hand on the wound in my leg. I close my eyes, can't help it. I don't want to say anything, and I don't have to, because the absence of pain is a wonderful thing. It's warm, and I crave it. The feeling of being safe and whole when Gideon has his hand on the part that hurts.

"Whoa—Holy—Oh my God!" Kai's voice, all high and squeaky. "You're a healer! You—"

"Get out. Do you think I won't use this? You'll hope the cops get here before I'm done with you." I've never see him like that, all cool and scary, and he can be scary. He's tall, and he's all muscles, all hard angles, sharp poking bones and compressed strength. The softness he shows me is all something he chooses to, all something he can't help because I have powers and he doesn't. If I didn't have superpowers? He could easily take me on, and win. 

I don't deserved to be protected, especially not by Gideon, but I can't help how good it feels.

Chip gives him pleading eyes. He holds up his hands. "Please, we can't leave you with him."

Kai had been trying to undo my ties, and they're still looped around his fingers when he says. He pulls at them, looking up at the baarrel of Gideon's gun.

"Ten...nine....eight..."

"C'mon." Finn huffs. "Let's go."

Kai drops my bonds and scurries to Finn's side. He makes a small, whimpery sound under his breath. I let myself lie there, because there isn't much I can do. I have to hold back my smile, have to fight to keep my expression fearful, because I've won.

"No," says Chip. "I'm not going,"

Or at least, I thought I'd won.

"Seven..six...five..."

"Chip!" Kai grabs his hand. I close my eyes. There isn't anything I can do, I'm tied up, trapped. And maybe, if I could fight, I wouldn't. I don't want to act for fate, I'm tired of being a pawn. I want to stay still and wash my hands of this and let fate do whatever it's going to do.

Gideon shuts one eye and aims coolly at Chip's heart. I can't take my eyes off the door. Kai wrenches him toward the door but he digs his heels in. "I can't let him hurt you the way he hurt me."

"....four...three...two..."

Finn grabs Chip's shoulder.

"Please." Chip's soft voice. "Please listen to me."

"One." Gideon's thumb trembles on the trigger. I can't look away. The boys exchange eye contact, and Gideon can only tremble. He's weak. He can't do it.

Finn and Kai rip Chip off his feet, dragging him out of the apartment while he kicks and digs in his heels. "No! No! We can't let Max hurt him."

My pulse thuds against the ropes while Gideon looks down at me, his eyes big with concern. 

Oh, Chip, it's already too late.