Fan Fiction ❯ Predilection ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

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

Authors Notes: Hello all! This is my first Count Cain fanfiction, so be gentle. Ive had this idea floating around in my head for a couple months now. . .at first it was just a kind of random thought like, Hmm. . .I wonder what happened AFTER the manga ended? which nagged at me until it began to evolve into what you see here. When I began jotting ideas down, I was torn between making this immediately after the end or fast forwarding into modern times. Obviously, the second one won out. I know theres already a Count Cain reincarnation story out there, and its very good, but this story in no way relates to it as you will see. So, happy reviewing, and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own the rights to Count Cain in its many forms. . .or the characters. This is simply created for amusement, and because Kaori Yuki is the queen of storylines and characters. I mean, how could I NOT be tempted to use them? o_O

Second Authors Note: Yeah, yeah, I know: ON WITH THE STORY. But, ehm, pardon the length of the first chapter, and the fact that it rambles a bit, but I needed to set up the basic storyline quickly. -_-;; Expect a new chapter every couple weeks or so, because thats about as long as it takes me to get around to these things. Oh, and please excuse any errors I know are probably in here. . . Ill get around to correcting those later. For now, its late. . and Im going to bed. Ciao.

-----------

Predilection: Chapter One


What a beautiful sky. . . I dont think Ive ever seen a sky so blue or perfect before. . .the way only a few wispy clouds streak across a china blue backdrop. Looking at it, I feel as if I dont have a care in the world.

Theres grass beneath me, a hilltop, covered in thousands of green blades, though their edges are dulled, soft, comforting. A sweet smell is carried on the breeze, the scent of flowers. I know Ive smelled it before, but at the moment I cant think of its name. Is there a garden nearby? I cant seem to muster the energy to turn my head and look.

My gaze is captured by that wonderful, beautiful sky. . .

Hey, you alright?

I squint a bit as the sun becomes too bright for my eyes to bare. Where did the sun come from?

Hello. . . .? Anyone home?

Suddenly a shadow falls over me and I can see again. Theres someone standing above, their face hidden by the shadow cast by the light behind. But even though I cant see their face, I get the impression that theyre smiling at me. . . isnt that strange?

HEY, RHETT.

The figure bends down, coming closer, but still I cannot see their face. A hand reaches out, offering to help me up, and somehow Im able to move. . . reaching my own up in return. . .

WAKE UP, YOU LAZY IDIOT!


Rhett Hartman, age twenty four, suddenly jerked awake in response to the blaring voice aimed directly into his ear. Poised a bit precariously as he was, his rather tall frame nearly toppled over out of the hard, folding chair that had been his seat, and it was only by grabbing hold of the standard, sterile round table in front of him that he was able to regain his balance.

A peal of laughter from his right was followed by, Man, that was hilarious! I wish I had a camera on me. . . !

Clear blue eyes blinked once before Rhett managed to focus on his colleague, another medical student, Owen Robinson, whos grin threatened to split his face in two.

Who. . .what happened? Was his rather perturbed response, a long fingered hand raising to run once through his simply cut, very light blond hair. Still chuckling good-naturedly to himself, Owen slid a cup of coffee in front of the taller man before pulling out a chair for himself. The metal gave a slight grating sound as it was dragged, squeaking as the other man took his seat. Cradling his own Styrofoam cup between his hands, he blew a bit of the steam away before answering, You fell asleep on your break, which ended five minutes ago. Thought I should come wake you up before one of the doctors or nurses found you.

Owen was fairly tall by common standards, though not as tall as Rhett, with sandy brown hair and somewhat narrow brown eyes. He wasnt the most handsome man, but he did have a certain charm about him that made quite a few of the nurses giggle at his constant flirtations. At times, the other student resented him because of his laid-back and easy going nature. . . and the fact that he was here because his father happened to have ties with some of the hospitals higher-ups. So, Owen spent his days fraternizing with the other students while Rhett had to work his butt off in every spare moment to make his scholarship money count. But in the short time hed known him, (Rhett and Owen usually did not share the same schedule) Rhett couldnt deny that he was a friendly and likable person, if a bit irresponsible.

Picking up the offered cup of coffee, Rhett took the small plastic straw sitting inside and idly stirred it with a sigh. Im sorry, I guess I just nodded off for a moment.

Ill say. It looked to me like you were as deep under as some of the coma patients. Owen brought his own cup to his lips for a sip and winced from the still too hot liquid. Then, leaning forward, he asked with a curious air, So what were you dreaming about, anyway? Mustve been good, you didnt seem to want to wake up. Not to my voice, anyway.

There was a slight shrug of shoulders from the taller man, his slender brows drawing together in a semblance of a thoughtful gaze. I. . dont really remember it now. . But actually, Rhett remembered the dream very clearly. . which was odd because it had been so brief, but so clear all the same. It wasnt like a typical dream. And that other figure. . .he couldnt recall ever knowing someone who fit that body type, but they definitely seemed familiar somehow.

Eh, that happens sometimes. In fact, I cant remember most of the ones I have! Just the other night I remember dreaming something about. . .

That was all Rhetts mind was able to pick up before it instantly began to drift, Owens voice going on unnoticed as he rambled something about one of the night nurses who worked their floor. Blue eyes only a shade lighter than the perfect sky from his dream gazed towards the break room windows, watching the nurses and few doctors. . .as well as a couple other interns, walk back and forth on their various schedules.

The blond man was just about to get up in the middle of his friends explanation (which now, he briefly noted, had switched to something about rubber ducks and strawberry jam) an excuse on the tip of his tongue . . .when a sudden commotion in the hallway caught his attention.

Hospital personnel were scattering as two blue suited rescue workers rushed a gurney by at high speed, a doctor and a couple nurses following very close behind. Rhett stood to his feet, long legs taking him the few steps over to the door as the group sped past. He caught a few words rattled back and forth between the paramedics and the doctor. . .and from what was said, it did not sound good.

. . . .got a call about a body and when they got there, the body was still alive. Looks like hes been attacked by. .

Clear the way!

Pulse is fifty over thirty and dropping. . .

. . tried to stabilize him on the ride over but we just didnt have the. . .

The doors to the ER were knocked aside as the foot of the gurney reached them, opening with a whump and whoosh of air. All rushed through, their voices dying away as the doors slowly closed behind them. A few seconds later, Owen peeked his head out from around the doorway-Rhett hadnt even noticed that hed joined him there.

Well, looks like its back to work.



Once inside, the ER was in its typical chaos. . . though in actuality, everyone was working towards one goal: to save the patient. His pulse and blood pressure had finally stabilized, though continued to beat at a weak rate. Another IV was called for, of saline solution, and inserted into one wrist in hopes of restoring lost fluid.

Patient is unconscious with some deep lacerations on the arms and chest. . .none of the arteries were hit, though. One physician, Locke, bent over the person on the table, which Rhett could now see was no more than a young teen. If not for the gaping holes in the patients t-shirt, baring much of the chest, the intern would have assumed they were female. Fifteen years old, possibly sixteen. Lifting each of the boys eyelids, Locke shined a small penlight into each. Pupils are responsive.

Both Rhett and Owen were called over by the attending physician. The penlight disappeared into his coat pocket, as he invited the two to stand opposite the gurney. Now that the patient was out of deaths doorway for now, he would ask their opinion. What do you two think?

Now that the tall blond was close enough, he could see despite the oxygen mask that covered most of the boys lower face, that his features were masculine if a bit delicate looking. The wounds on his chest and arms had closed, though blood had stained most of the front of his shirt and some had caked around the wounds, showing that hed been bleeding while lying on his stomach for quite some time. His arms were sunburned, but the rest of his skin was pale, untypical for someone who had been living on the streets. Runaway?

The physician nodded before Owen added his own input, And very dehydrated at that. Id guess hes only been out there for three, maybe four days.

With a sigh, Locke took a needle and stitching thread from a nurse, while Rhett took a bottle of disinfectant and a cleaning pad from another. They worked diligently, removing any debris from the gashes before they were cleaned and properly sewn up. The police got a call from a woman in a third floor apartment, said there was a childs body in the alleyway below. When they got there, they found the body alright, but it wasnt dead. Rushed him here as fast as they could.

All in all, only three of the wounds needed stitches, all on the arms. The others were shallow enough to be closed over with bandages. They found only one piece of identification on him. A high school ID. Caleb Oake, junior at Scarsdale High.

Any insurance? Scarsdale High wasnt known to be the best school in town, but one could hope that hed run from a middle class family with some sort of medical insurance.

Locke gave another shrug and wiped his hands on a cloth, then took the clipboard from the front of the boys gurney and scribbled down orders for X-rays. The entire process had taken less than five minutes. Were looking into it now, trying to locate his family or who he was staying with before.

A moment later, Caleb was wheeled out, and the ER was reduced to silence once more.



It was over an hour later when Rhett made it out. Almost immediately after the dark haired youth had gone to radiology, another patient had been wheeled in, this one a victim of a motorcycle accident. Followed by several more people, some with serious injuries or ailments, some with seemingly minor problems. Owen had managed to make it out fifteen minutes before him, and as he walked down the hallway the slightly shorter but more robust man met him.

Hey! Glad to see they didnt keep you too long. Rhett barely had time to even think of a response, let alone say it, before Owen barreled on, heedless. But his voice lowered to an almost conspiratorial whisper at which the blond had to strain his ears over the other noise to hear.

Found out some things. Remember that kid they wheeled in a while ago? Well, apparently he was attacked by that child killer whos been on the loose. The police are in questioning him now.

The news came as somewhat of a surprise to Rhett. The serial killer, who the press had dubbed as the Blackbird Killer, mostly because of their semblance to the nursery rhyme, had been giving authorities quite a time. Six kids between the ages of eleven and seventeen had fallen victim. Four had been runaways, two young teens from street gangs. Obviously, the killer was taking them right off the streets, but the detectives had very few leads so far . . . . it had been all over the news as of late.

Hes very lucky to be alive then. . .

No kidding, they were practically jumping at the bit for him to recover consciousness.

Did we ever find out where he was from? What happened?

The two abruptly stopped talking as they rounded a corner and almost ran into a nurse. There were a few apologies, and when she was far enough away, Owen continued. Yeah, hes been missing from a place called Stone Chapel Childrens Home for four days. Orphanage for both boys and girls, apparently. Im not supposed to know any of this, so dont go blabbing it around but. . .

Rhett almost had to smile at that. If anyone, Owen would do plenty of blabbing on his own, without the taller mans help.

Poor kids probably scared out of his wits. You know, most of them lead pretty messed up lives, and someone said hes got a history of mental illness too.

Suddenly, and for reasons unknown, Rhett felt protective of the young teen. Perhaps it was the trauma he knew Caleb was probably experiencing, of being viciously attacked and left for dead, only to wake up in the sterile, cold environment among strangers. Of being poked and prodded by these same strangers, and picked for information by the cops. Rhett had taken a few psychology courses, and although he wasnt an expert in the subject by any means, he did feel sorry.

Do you know what room hes in? The question surprised him, for he hadnt even thought about it until he felt the words slipping past his lips. But Owen, on the other hand, seemed as if he knew it was coming. It was no big secret that Rhett had a rather large, compassionate streak.

113. Oh, and all the stuff on him came back normal. Nothing else to worry about. Well, except the media.

Thanks.



When Rhett had found the room of their very lucky patient, two police were interviewing him just as hed been told. Pausing in the doorway, he listened in for a moment and realized that while they were doing most of the talking in the form of questions, the youth on the bed seemed to be reluctant to give them any information, especially concerning himself.

Can you describe your attacker for us, please?

. . . . He was tall, a little over six feet. . Caucasian.

And his face? What did he look like?

I dont know, he was wearing a hat pulled low on his head and dark sunglasses.

One of the cops gave a frustrated sigh, scribbling the information down. And the weapon. . . could you describe it for us?

A knife.

. . .Alright. What KIND of knife? The man was obviously becoming agitated by the boys short, clipped answers.

I dont remember.

You have to remember something at least. Was it short, long, curved. . ?

The dark haired youth crossed his arms over his chest, a stubborn look holding on his face. I said I dont remember.

Taking the opportunity to interrupt, Rhett cleared his throat by the door, the sound soft but audible. Glancing over his shoulder, the cop standing next to the one jotting down the notes gave him a look as if to say, Yeah? What the hell do you want? Wonderful. Sorry to interrupt, well, actually, he really wasnt, and unfortunately the tone came out in his voice, but the patient needs to rest. Hes been through a very bad ordeal, Im sure you can imagine, and were still running some tests to make sure hes alright. . Now the other cop had turned and was looking at him. He felt pinned to the spot.

From between the two, he could see Calebs eyes focusing on him, watching with a degree of curiosity as he tried to get the officers to go away. He bet that the youth was intimidated by their questioning, and really was tired, besides. Heck, he could have blocked part of the traumatic attack out of his mind already, for all they knew.

Snapping his notebook closed, the pen was placed in a front pocket of the mans blue shirt. He regarded Rhett with a superior air that the intern did not like, but remained standing calmly with a carefully neutral expression on his face. Alright, Mr. . . Rhett watched as the mans eyes found the nametag clipped to his regulation clothes, Hartman. . . I suppose we can come back. Tomorrow, if the patient is feeling up to it.

Im afraid thats impossible. Mr. Oake is being released this evening.

Rhett thought he saw a flash of disappointment behind the green-gold eyes staring from the beds occupant.

With a few grumbling words, the officers took their leave. The tall blond distinctly heard one of them mutter just loud enough for him to hear, Only solid lead on this psycho and the victim cant even remember what he looks like. Fan-fucking-tastic.

When they were gone, Rhett stepped further into the room, coming within a few feet of Calebs bedside. The dark haired boy was still watching him, now with an unreadable expression on his youthful features. After a heartbeat, he gave a small sigh and leaned back against the pillows propped behind his back. Thanks.

Youre welcome.

Am I really being released today? I mean. . .back to the home. .? Ah, so Rhett hadnt been wrong after all. Caleb did not want to go back.

Instead of answering straight-forward, the blond pulled up a chair sitting against the wall and took a seat, doing his best to appear as non-threatening as possible. Callousness was a doctors worst habit. Why did you run away?

Frowning slightly, the teen looked down at the back of his hands, one bearing a bandage over a gash across his palm. The small but slender fingers plucked distractedly at the starched sheet pulled about his waist. Its not the first time, and it wont be the last. Those harpies that run the placell probably act all too happy that Im not dead, that one of their precious little lambs is safe. Yeah right. They suck up to the public image, and then when they get me back theyll lock me up in my room just like theyve done every time before. Then a few hours later, theyll all march in and tell me how pathetic I am, going over every little fault I have one by one, and say that if I ever get into trouble again, theyll just leave me. Personally, Id prefer it if they did.

The words held such bitterness it at first shocked Rhett to see the anger behind what was before a very placid face. But there was also an intelligence, and a rationale that made the older man want to believe him. Owen had said that he had a history of mental illness? That just didnt seem to fit.

Caleb turned his gaze back towards the blond, a small, rueful smile on his lips. You look as if youre surprised by what Ive said.

Shaking his head a bit, Rhett tried to cover up his initial reaction. N-no, what gave you that idea? He winced at the faint stutter in his own voice. Way to go there.

You thought Id be a jittering skitzo, didnt you? Caleb gave a small, scoffing sound, but his eyes looked somehow. . sad. . So theyve already started up with that, have they? Thats their latest story you know. Tell the authorities or whoever gets hold of me after I run that Im not right in the head. That I havent been taking the medication Im supposed to.

Rhetts brows drew together into a slight frown. Why havent you spoken up until now, then?

I have. But this is the first time Ive been taken to the hospital, before they were only dealing with regular people, gullible people. They were much more ready to accept an adults explanation than a mere sixteen year olds.

I see. They both fell quiet for several moments, their thoughts seemingly shifting inwards. It was only when Rhett focused on the youth before him once more, that he realized that Caleb was beginning to drift off. It looked as if just staying awake was becoming hard for the dark haired boy, let alone carrying on such a conversation. Im sorry, youre tired, I should let you rest.

This was met with a small shake of Calebs head, Its okay, I didnt mind. And besides, you made those officers go away. . .

Yes, only to barrage you with my own questions. You need to recover and Im sadly not helping at all.

Rhett stood to his feet and placed the chair back in its place against the wall, his back turning to the youth on the hospital bed. He was just about to turn around, when a small, unsure voice broke the silence. . . . .I saw you in the emergency room. .

Startled, the blond turned around with a question poised on his lips. . .but it appeared that Caleb was fast asleep, his head turned so that one cheek pressed against the pillow behind his head, eyes peacefully closed. Shaking off the slightly creepy feeling that tried to wiggle its way up his spine, he ran one hand through his platinum blond locks and gave a small sigh. What a strange kid. Coming back to the bed, he reached out and pulled the covers a little higher on Calebs form, tucking him in. He thought it strange that hed never done this for a patient before, never felt the need to, but for some reason. . . .

Shaking his head, he turned and left the room, turning off the light as he went, the light of the bedside lamp casting the room in a soft glow.

Sweet dreams. The intern whispered, closing the door with an almost silent click.

--------------

To be continued in Chapter Two.