Dead Men Don't Cry

A/N: Ok, I realize that the last chap was full of plot, and didn't have nearly enough slash, but it was a neccessary evil for the story. I also realize that I have no clue who the hell the Sinti are. hehehe. This chap is much shorter, has more slashyness, and no Trance or Beka. Have fun =) Tyr POV.


Chapter 7 - Even If It's a Lie


What is keeping them? I turn a little to glance back at the bar, since the boy is on my shoulder. Talkin the the bartender? Why am I not surprised. She always does seem to tend towards the... unsavory types, or at least the types with unsavory occupations. The orange one is with her too, waiting for her.

I won't be waiting. The boy needs his rest and so do I. The have a key to the hanger and know their way around well enough. He isn't a heavy burden to carry, in fact he's much lighter than I thought he would be. That is slightly troubling. I have noticed that he does have a tendencyneglneglect eating, rather than stop working on whatever toy is his project of the week.

I approach the transport platform and wait several minutes for the next shuttle. It seems our luck of one arriving the minute one pulls up applies only when the Trance girl is with us. Finally one pulls up and I carry him onto it, somewhat pleased to find it mostly empty. Our car in fact has only two other passengers, and one of them is in the same state as Harper. The other one, what looks like a half human, half sinti, squints his eyes at us.

"He dea
"
"He's drunk," I reply, and he goes back to staring into space. Strange how interbreeding always seems to create offspring with extremely low intelligance. I set the boy down in a seat and try to position him in a somewhat upright position before taking my place beside him. Soon I am forced to resort to resting his head against my shoulder as to prevent him from falling over into a position where he might c on on his own vomit. Then he begins to drool. I quickly brush my hair away from him and grit my teeth.

Disgusting. Sickening. Unnerving. That's how it is to see him so completly incompasitated. I've seen it before, when he jacks into things, but at least that serves some purpose. This? This is pointless and reckless, not to mention extremely dangerous. To leave himself completly unaware and defensless? I wonder what happens when he goes off drinking by himself. No, maybe I don't want to think about that.

He doesn't look the way he looks when he sleeps, either, not that the way he loohen hen isn't equally as troubling. He never seems at peace when he sleeit ait always looks more like he's fighting sleep than giving into it. Almost like he's afraid to close his eyes... but from the looks of things I don't blame him. Every night almost, he starts tossing and turning and whimpering. Whatever he dreams about I'm sure isn't something he looks forward to. I don't either. Not on the few occasions that I have had the oppurtunity of watching him sleep, mostly when he's injured in the sick bay, which happens far too often for my liking. Not on the even fewer occasions when he forgets to activate the security protocols and I find myself standing in the shadows, watching him struggle through the torments of his dreams. He never knows I'm there, though. I al lea leave before he wakes.

Our journey is quicker than I anticipated as our stop approaches, and I sling him carefully over my shoulder once more. Well, now he'll know what waking up covered in his own drool is like, although I'm sure he's experianced that before. We get off the transit, and enter the hanger, the few and far between 'guards' giving us strange looks.

"Drunk," I explain before they have the chance to ask. I unlock the section in which the Eureka Maru is being kept and board the ship, the boy still over my drool covered shoulder.

Strange... was that a whimper I heard? No matter, he must have drifted into sleep, and is probably experiancing one of his horrific nightmares again. The thought makes me cringe, but I don't wake him. His dreams are his own... I have never interfered, never wanted to get caught up in all the secret hooros of his past.

Then something, that I soon realize to be his hand, smacks me in the rear.

"Ey... pu me dow," he mummers drunkily and I comply, glad that we made it to the bunks before he woke up. The minute he puts his weight upon his feet he almost falls flat on his face, but I reach out a hand to steady him, and soon he regains his balance.

"How I get ere?" he asks, laughing somewhat hystarically.

"I carried you from the bar. You passed out on the dance floor."

"Oh yeah... now I emember dat. Dat wasant so bad, geddin carry round like dat. I finally god to slap your ass," he says again, and laughs somemore, each time he laughs swaying from side to side. Well at least he's getting slightly more coherent.

"Happy to hear you had fun." In a way I actually am. We talked of some more... serious matters at the bar, and I'm slightly relieved to see it didn't damper his mood any.

"ell, yeah, dat was fun, but the reel fun, dats about to start..." he mumbles, before tipping over, coicidentally in my direction, and I catch him. He looks up and grins wider than I knew a human could, then slings an arm over the shoulder he didn't drool on.

"ow bout you and me go find a nice comfy bed and ave some more fun?" he suggests, his breath reeking of alcohol. I take a step back, escaping his grip.

"You're drunk."

"Yyyeah, was your poin?"

"You shouldn't do anything you might... regret."

"Who sayz I'll regred id?" He takes another step forward and I take another step back.

"I do, and I'm right..." I answer as once again he steps forward and I take one more step back - into a bulkhead.

"Gotcha ya," he says, triumphant, as hrowhrows his whole weight against me, pressing his body to my own. One of his hands immediatly disappears in the direction of my pants, the other wraps around my neck as he leans his face towards my own.

Why am I not fighting him more? I should have thrown him across the room by now, not be giving into his drunken desire... Then a stirring in the... lower portion of my body reminds me why.

The nagging voice in my head comes back full force the moment before our lips almost touch. You can't do this to him. Not when he's like this... Drunk. Smelly. Unaware of what he's getting himself into. Even if he does seem completly willing, it's only the alcohol. He might someday forgive you if you took advantage of him when he was like this, but you'd never forgive yourself.

I thrust my hand in between his lips and mine, right before they touch, and gently push him back.

"Don't. Not now."

His essiession rapidly changes as he sways on his feet, trying to stand in one place.

"Oh I ged it... You jus don want me, is dat it?" he asked, and almost immediatly begins to start bawling. Oh, just wonderful. I do in a way feel perhaps a bit guilty for making him cry, but he's drunk. He'll get over it.

"Whether I do or not is not an issue. You're drunk. I won't take advantage of you," I tell him, then risk putting a hand on his shoulder, which he doesn't seem to notice.

"You drunk some too," he protests.

"Alcohol doesn't affect Nietzceans as much as it affects humans..."

"Well, then I 'spose you win 'least... least likely to get... drunk...'" he finishes with a yawn, still in a poor mood, but quickly recovering.

"You need sleep."

"I don wanna go to sleep..." he says, even as he sits down upon his bunk, " I re...remember things when I sleep."

Visions of his tossing and turning and crying in his sleep reappear in my mind as he looks up at me with his still wet eyes. Against my better judgement I decided not to leave.

"If you would like me to stay for a time I will..." I offer and immediatly he smiles.

"anks, Tyr..." he says as he wiggles under the covers, "You won go, will ya?"

I don't answer as I pull the blankets up to his shoulders and smooth them. I can't make him any promises, especially not tonight.

"Tell me ya won go... even if itz a lie..." he whispers as sleep begins to overtake him.

I lean over, accidentally brushing my lips against his ear as I tell him what he needs to hear.

"I won't go..." I whisper, wondering why my voice is wavering.

He sighs and smiles as I lean back again.

"Thank you, Tyr..." he murmurs as he falls asleep, the smile still hovering on his lips.

I gently sit down on the bunk next to him and watch him for a few moments until I am assured that he will not awake again tonight. For the first time ever he looks at peace as he sleeps, and I want desperately to reach out and brush the hair out of his face, but I still my hand and force myself to look away. Something about the angelic way he looks right now brings tears to my eyes... it must be the liquor, finally taking affect. As softly as I sat, I now stand and walk towards the corridor, managing not to look back upon his sleeping form until I reach the doorway. I fight the urge to return to his side and wrap my arms around him. He knew I would go, we both knew, even though I said I wouldn't.

I always leave before he wakes.

A/N: Yes, it was short. Next chap most likely Harper POV. Review Review Review! Cuz I love when you do =)