Statuary - 1. Chapter 1

STATUARY

"Oh shit." Matt sighed and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair, not caring about the fine grit of plaster shifting in between his fingers. He and his boyfriend had just removed the massive mirror off of their bathroom wall only to find another wall-to-wall application of the same garishly ugly wallpaper they had spent the last several hours removing. Matt was sick of wallpaper; from the look of it, to the smell of the solvent, to the sticky adhesive, to the plaster that covered every surface of the room once they removed the paper and had to sand down the walls.

Kitt shrugged helplessly. "Seems pointless to put up wallpaper when you are going to cover it up with a mirror, doesn't it?" He bent down and grabbed one of the vacuum cups still adhered to the glass surface of the mirror. "Come on, let's move this out of here."

Matt helped lift the heavy pane of glass and carried it out into the hallway before positioning it carefully against the wall. He returned to the bathroom and glowered at the remaining work left to do.

Kitt removed his goggles and pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose. "Come on, let's finish this last section here, then we can call it a night."

Matt craned his neck from side to side trying to relieve the stiffness in it before he picked up a scouring wheel. He started scouring the walls so Kitt could spray them with solvent and patiently peel the paper off. The wall behind the mirror was the last one to clear. He moved the scouring wheel to another section of wallpaper and was surprised to feel the give underneath his hand. There was the familiar sound of rending paper as he stumbled forward; his hand extending into the void of empty space beyond it. He pulled his arm back quickly and peeled back the paper.

"What is it?" Kitt asked from where he was pulling a long panel off the wall.

"I don't know." Matt pulled away more paper. It tore and he dropped it impatiently. "Looks like a hole."

"How big?"

"Fairly big. About the size of a volleyball maybe?" Matt said, revealing the entire hole.

"Mouse?" Kitt suggested.

"I don't think so." Matt bent and rummaged in his toolbox.

Kitt whistled. "Nice plumber's crack there."

"Shut up, asshole," Matt grumbled, straightening back up. "It's too round and smooth to be made by an animal, see?" He shined his flashlight into the hole. "Hey, there's something back here."

Kitt glanced over with genuine curiosity. "What is it?"

"I don't know. Give me those gloves."

Kitt tossed him a pair of thick gloves and Matt pulled them on before reaching through the hole. Matt felt his fingers close around something and tugged it out, the edges scraping the opening as it was dragged through.

It was a box, long and narrow, secured shut with a lock. It was heavy and when Matt blew off the plaster dust, he saw some symbols etched into the top. Intrigued with his new find, he took it into the bedroom and studied it in the light coming through the window. He recognized the symbols.

"Hey, Kitt. Come over here."

Kitt tossed his scraper down and joined him by the window. "What is it?"

"What does this say?"

Kitt peered at it over the rim of his glasses. "It's Greek."

"Yeah, do you know what it says? You did rush week. Don't most of those Phi Sigma whatevers make you learn the Greek alphabet?"

"Some of them do." Kitt took the box and studied it. Matt felt a brief, irrational stab of greedy possessiveness. It was his find and he couldn't deny that his hands were already itching to take it back.

"Looks like pi, alpha, upsilon–" Kitt frowned and looked closer. "Wait, no, that's nu. Pi, alpha, nu, delta, omega, rho, and alpha."

"That sounds like military code," Matt said.

"Alpha and delta maybe," Kitt responded.

"What does it mean?" Matt gestured to the box.

Kitt looked at the symbols again and sounded them out. "Pa-do-rah. Pandora."

Matt gave him a puzzled look. "Like the radio station?"

"No, more like ancient mythology," Kitt responded, but Matt was hardly paying attention. He took the box back and turned it, studying the lock and the hinges.

"I bet I can break the latch with some pliers." Matt glanced at Kitt, who took the hint and dug through the toolbox.

"You know, maybe you should just leave it alone," Kitt said, pulling the pliers out.

"Are you kidding?" Matt said. "I can't just find a mysterious box hidden inside the walls and not find out what's inside."

"For all you know, that box could contain drugs or something."

"In a box, hidden in the wall, covered with wallpaper?"

Kitt shrugged. "Hey, it's back there for a reason." But he handed over the pliers and chuckled a little as he watched Matt fit them into place.

"What's so funny?" Matt demanded. His good humor was back in place once he had the box back, but a strange sort of impatience was gnawing at the back of his mind. He had to see what was in the box.

"The myth of Pandora tells of a woman whose curiosity prompted her to open a box that she was cautioned never to open."

"And what happened when she did?" Matt asked as he twisted the pliers and managed to pry the latch off.

"When Pandora opened the box she released all the evil of mankind upon civilization."

"Well, then, I shouldn't have anything to worry about." Matt gave him a playful grin. "Damage is already done." He opened the box and pulled back layers of red cloth to reveal a white figurine nestled inside.

"Wow." Matt lifted it out of the box, holding it in both hands. It was a statue, carved alabaster marble, of a woman holding an open box in her hands. "Look at this. It's gorgeous."

Kitt knelt down next to him. "It's Pandora. See, she's holding the box."

The woman was dressed in what looked like a sheet, which hung around her hips and pooled at her feet, leaving her bare chested. Curls swept back from her face to coil down her back and near her waist, her hands cradled a small box, lid up, revealing the empty space inside. Her expression was placid and her eyes were empty slates of stone. Matt felt a chill run over him as he stared into the blank eyes, that vacant stare.

"Is there information on who made it?" Kitt asked, reaching for it. Matt surprised both of them by clutching the statue to his chest and jerking away from Kitt's hand. As soon as he did he felt embarrassed, but couldn't stop the jealous pull that rose up in his chest at the thought of anyone else touching it.

"I-I don't want to break it," Matt said lamely.

"I'm not going to break the damn thing. But if it is marble, which is what it looks like, you should handle it carefully. Marble is heavy but it's a soft stone. See how much of her toga gathers around her feet? It anchors the stone to the base, otherwise the weight at the top would be too much and it–"

"God, this is what I get for dating a fine arts major," Matt interrupted, rolling his eyes. He carefully passed the statue over, watching Kitt intently as he examined the statue, turning it upside down to look at the base. Only when Kitt gave it back to him did the strong lines of tension in his neck and back finally relax.

"Well, there's no artist's mark on it. You might be able to find out some more if you took it to the University archives, because it might be local. You could even get it appraised."

"I'm not selling it!" Matt exclaimed.

Kitt raised his eyebrows. "You came to that conclusion pretty quickly."

Matt shrugged. "I don't know. It's special. And I found it, so it's kinda cool."

"I would get it appraised and if it is worth some money, you would want to get it insured. If you seriously plan on keeping it, you might want to talk to an attorney too. Our landlord could claim that since you found it on his property, it belongs to him."

Like hell it does.

"Only if he knows we found it here," Matt responded. Getting to his feet, he set the statue down on top of the second-hand dresser that the small room had been furnished with. "I am just going to get some more drywall and fix the hole and not say anything. It's not like the cheap son of a bitch is paying for the supplies to replace his shoddy wallpaper job." He looked at the statue again, caught by the smooth marble and graceful lines. She looked almost...

He glanced away and smiled at Kitt instead. "We'll just consider it compensation for a job well done."

 * * * * *

Matt watched the strips of moonlight cut through the dark recesses of the night. The statue he had set on his dresser caught the brightness, reflecting it, almost glowing with it. He shut his eyes against the brilliance, the afterimage still dancing his retinas.

He could feel the weight of Kitt's head on his chest and focused on that, letting his boyfriend's deep even breathing calm the sudden thunder in his chest. He slid a hand up Kitt's bare back and neck, then burrowed underneath the stiff, gelled strands of hair to stroke the downy underside, massaging Kitt's scalp. The other boy made a low, sleepy sound of contentment, shifting slightly.

Matt turned his head, inhaling the scent of his hair, and pressed his face into the pillow, trying not to notice the glowing light of Pandora from behind his closed eyelids.

Matt stood in the middle of the woods. It was quiet, calm, filled with warm sunshine, the chirp of birds and summertime insects with the rich scent of Earth and growing things in the air. Everything glowed, gold and green. A fleeting thought (Eden) passed and was gone before it could develop further. So peaceful, so beautiful. He smiled.

The rude blare of the alarm clock woke Matt and he stirred groggily, groping around until his fingers found and pressed the off switch. He felt, rather than saw, Kitt moving around next to him. He reached out blindly, until his questing fingers found the waistband of Kitt's boxers. As Kitt tried to stand up, Matt pulled, sending the younger man tumbling back onto the bed.

"Cuddles!" Matt demanded, pinning Kitt down to the mattress and kissing him. The mouth underneath his was warm and soft from sleep, and Matt deepened the kiss hungrily. His adventurous hands slipped underneath the waistband of Kitt's boxers again, one gripping his ass while the other slid into his warm crease.

Kitt smiled and wriggled out of his grasp. "I know what you want, and it's not cuddles."

"Your fault," Matt teased, advancing on him again. "You shouldn't be so damn sexy."

Kitt stood again. "I'm going to be late for class if I don't shower." Kitt glanced over his shoulder as he sauntered into the partially renovated bathroom and gave Matt a challenging smirk and a wink. Matt waited until he heard the water running then crept into the bathroom, and slipped into the shower. They ended up using all the hot water, but both agreed that a cold shower was worth the price.

* * * * *

After Matt had shaved, he was getting dressed in the bedroom when his eyes caught the statue again. It was perched, rather precariously in Matt's opinion, on the corner of the dresser. Matt approached and saw a long swatch of clear wood, the size of the statue's base, in the fine dust that coated the furniture.

"Hey, baby?" he called.

Kitt, still wrapped in a towel, gave him a look through the doorway while working gel through his hair. "Yeah?"

"Did you move this statue?"

"No."

"Someone slid it to the corner. Are you sure it wasn't you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Kitt finished his hair and walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his hands on the towel. "I got up and went straight into the shower this morning, you saw me."

"Someone moved it," Matt pointed out, annoyed. He gestured to the path in the dust. "See?"

Kitt shrugged. "It wasn't me. Maybe it slid across the dresser when a truck went by or while we were banging around in the bathtub. Dust probably makes the surface slick."

"That doesn’t even make sense," Matt complained.

Kitt shrugged and stepped into his boxers. "If 700 pound rocks can slide around Death Valley on a couple inches of water, then that little statue can probably slide a few inches across a dusty surface if there is enough vibration coming through the floor or walls. What does it matter?"

"I don't want to break it," Matt said, picking it up and placing it in the middle of the dresser far away from any corner. "Just don't move it."

"I didn't fucking move it." Kitt sounded torn between amusement and exasperation. He finished getting dressed. "My lab partner is going to pick me up this morning. We want to get some work done on our project before the class fills up."

"Okay," Matt said, pushing his feet into his shoes. "Be home tonight?"

"Yeah." Kitt, who was more conscientious, was already ready for class, kissing him good-bye and heading out the door with plenty of time to spare while Matt was still floundering in his morning routine. When Matt was finally ready to leave, he locked up and had already opened up the car door to toss his bag inside before he noticed the tilt of the car. Frowning, he stepped backed and circled the car, finally kneeling down near one of the back tires and cursing under his breath as he saw the flat. He called a tow truck and then phoned a flurry of classmates and friends to look for a ride to campus. By the time someone could come and pick him up he had already missed his first class. He got surprised by a pop quiz in his next class, then called the garage to see what progress was being made on the car.

"Well, there's a small leak. Almost couldn't find it," the person from the garage, some guy called Larry, told him. "Barely a little air bubble in the water tank."

"Well, that's good," Matt said, feeling the tension that had started to knot in his shoulders loosen slightly. "A little leak shouldn't cost too much to fix, right?"

"We can't fix this leak."

"What?!" Matt exclaimed drawing some looks from other nearby students. "You told me it was so small you could barely find it!"

"Yeah, but it's in the sidewall," Larry drawled. "You can't repair this type of leak. You're going to have to replace the tire."

"Is that my only option?"

"Well, we can pump it back up full of air, but it'll only last a week or two. Best to replace it."

"And how much is that going to cost?"

"Our highest quality tires run about five hundred dollars, but we have some economy tires for as low as one twenty."

Matt rubbed at his forehead. There went that surprise trip he was planning for Kitt and he might even need to pick up a couple extra shifts at the restaurant. "Fine. Go ahead and replace it with the economy. When will it be ready for pickup?"

"After three."

Matt drummed his fingers on his thigh. That might work, if he could get someone to drop him off, he could be at work by five. He made the arrangements and dropped his cell phone back in his bag with an annoyed sigh. He had just spent most of his savings on trying to renovate their little rental house and now this happened. Perfect.

A headache was already drumming behind his eyes as he grabbed a quick lunch and attended his next two classes. He barely had enough time to pick up his car with its new tire and make his shift at work.

It was a light night and his manager dismissed some of the crew early. Matt was next to go if it continued to be slow, when suddenly a whole stream of people were coming in. In twenty minutes, he had twenty tables and any thoughts of leaving early or getting extra studying time was out of the window.

His guests were impatient, one table screaming that they'd wanted refills for twenty minutes while Matt was trying to ring in four other tables and check out three of them. In his rush, he made a mistake and gave his screamer a regular soda like his friends instead of the diet soda he wanted. The customer went ballistic, screaming some more and emptying his soda over Matt's uniform before storming out.

When trying to alert management about a guest leaving without paying, he slipped on the soda and landed hard on his tailbone, pain shooting up his spine at the same time that embarrassed color bloomed up his cheeks. His manager was nowhere to be found, his staff was too busy to go after the guy and Matt had too many tables to take care of.

At the end of the night, he still got chewed out about it, with his manager threatening to take it out of his pay. All in all, Matt was in a foul mood once he got home, stalking in without so much as a hello kiss for Kitt, yanking off his soiled uniform and showering off the sticky mess. Kitt was in the bedroom when he finally emerged, looking concerned.

"Rough day, baby?"

Matt collapsed facedown on the bed next to him. "The worst."

"Damn. What happened?" Kitt asked, stroking his lower back. Matt twisted around, the lines of dull pain that had been radiating up his back tightening into hot wires. He could see the bruise fanning out from his buttocks. "Fell," he muttered, flopping back onto the bed. The wires relented slightly. "Hurt my back."

Kitt shifted and Matt felt his warm hands, lotion smoothed over the palms, rubbing and kneading the tight muscles of his back. Matt mumbled something incoherent, but Kitt shushed him.

"Just relax. Relax and rest. You've had a hard day."

The combination of a long day, a hard shift and the soothing rhythm of Kitt's hands was too much. His eyes shifted to the other side of the room, meeting the fathomless gaze of the statue, still in her spot where she was supposed to be. It was the last thing he saw before his eyelids became too heavy to hold open and the world dissolved around him. Nothing existed but the warm hands on his skin and the deep lulling lethargy bearing him away.

Bearing him away to another place, another time; a tapestry of summer sounds and forest greenery, lush growth all around him, warm shafts of sunlight lighting up his insides. He stood and looked around, struck by the sense of familiarity even as part of him still didn't recognize the place.

He walked through the trees; grass, flowers and leaves a soft carpet underfoot, everything smooth and yielding, no sharp twigs or rocks to shock his bare, vulnerable feet. He smiled, and as he rounded the last copse of trees, he saw it. A glade, lit up in the same gold, with a stone in the center. Various wildlife were milling around: deer, rabbits, all seemingly unconcerned about being in the presence of other people. A woman was standing there on the stone, her back to him, but again, there was something familiar about the way she stood, the drape of material around her hips, pooling at her feet and the ringlets of curls that cascaded down her back.

Matt woke up with a muffled grunt, looking around blearily. It was early in the morning according to the clock and Kitt was lying next to him, curled up in a fetal position on top of the sheets. Matt carefully got up to empty his bladder, whose aching pressure had woken him, then returned to bed. He shifted Kitt slightly so that he could slide the sheets and comforter up over him. Kitt was perennially cold and the nights were already feeling the bite of a deepening fall. Strange that he would dream about summer. Matt tried to chase the contents of the dream but it slipped away from him, leaving only vague feelings of deja vu and confusion. His back was throbbing but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake as he spooned back up against his boyfriend. His sleepy overtaxed mind didn't even register that he was able to see the darkened bedroom and failed to notice the vague glow emanating from the dresser.

In the short period of time between when Matt fell back asleep and the alarm went off, he had no more dreams. However, when he tried to get up, his back, which felt stiff, gave a thunderous roar of protest that had him sinking weakly back onto the mattress, pressing his hand against the tight bands of muscles surrounding his spine and arching up towards his ribs. Another low throb originated from the cleft of his buttocks, reminding him that he would probably not be having any back door adventures anytime soon. He groaned, slumping back over on his side.

Kitt poked his head in from the bathroom, his toothbrush stuck in his mouth.

"Is it your back still?"

"Yeah," Matt groaned.

There was the sound of gargling and spitting from the bathroom. Kitt came out, climbed on the bed and examined his back again. "Well, your bruise has gotten darker," he noted, tracing it with his finger. "Let me get you some Advil and the heating pad."

Matt took the Advil gratefully enough and let the heating pad work it's warm fingers throughout his sore muscles while Kitt bustled around getting ready for class. He bent to press a kiss against Matt's forehead before leaving and frowned a little.

"You feel warm."

"I'm using the heating pad."

"No, like feverish." Kitt pressed a cool hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?"

"Nah, just hurting." Matt drummed up his bravest smile, but Kitt still looked worried when he left.

Today was his light class load, so Matt usually studied in the morning, hit the two back-to-back classes he had and then worked a long shift at work. He debated calling in sick, but as a part-timer he didn't get paid for sick time and with the new tire for the car, he really couldn’t afford to miss the hours. The heat felt good while it was on but his back still hurt during the ride to school and especially after sitting through his classes. He took some more Advil and went into work, determined to tough it out. Trays of food and drinks were agonizing for him and he only made it through half his shift before he finally gave in and went home. He begrudgingly went to the Health Center where he was diagnosed with a back strain and given some pain medicine.

The medicine helped relax the agonized twists of spasmed muscles surrounding his spine but they disturbed his sleep and left him spacey in his classes, inattentive and distracted at work. The next day he floundered through another test in a class he was already struggling with and then got written up at work for miscounting his cash drawer. He slogged through a torrential downpour towards his car only to have another vehicle speed by, throwing up a huge wave of dirty water and sludge to soak him from the knees down.

He pulled off his shoes and sodden socks, flopping into the driver's seat with an annoyed sigh. His back throbbed uneasily. When he got home, he tossed his wet, ruined clothes on the floor, took a hot shower and sat down on the bed. He felt lonely, restless, and wished that Kitt was home instead of at his usual study group. His eyes caught the statue and he grabbed it, studying it again.

He vaguely remembered something golden and green. And a woman... turning... smiling...

He was jolted out of his reverie by a warm hand on his shoulder. He turned, almost expecting to see the woman from the woods. Pandora. But it was only Kitt, looking at him with curiosity and concern. "You okay, baby?"

Matt glanced up. Kitt had obviously just gotten home; his clothes were damp and water speckled his glasses.

"Done with study group already?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, we were done by ten, like always," Kitt said with a faint smile. Kitt ran a hand through Matt's hair, now completely dry. His back was stiff and sore. Matt surreptitiously checked his watch. He had been sitting there for over two hours.

Golden light filtered in through green leaves. Beauty was standing in the clearing, turning to look at him. She held up the box in front of her, fingers curling around the edge of the lid. Her eyes met his, burning into his mind, his chest, his soul. A smile bloomed across his face, even as dread coalesced inside of him.

He tried to scream, to cry out, to warn her, dissuade her; but the words remained locked inside of his too tight throat.

And the box opened.

Matt sat in the corner, holding Pandora in his lap. She glowed against the encroaching darkness, and even the dark wash of his jeans. Hours had passed, maybe days, but it didn't matter. He had Pandora. She radiated against his hands, a contrast of warm flesh and cool silk. She was staring up at him with her beautiful eyes. Staring at him. Smiling at him. And holding her box of horrors open for him to see.

* * * * *

"Matt?"

Matt glanced up and saw Kitt standing there. He was dressed nicely, in dark slacks, Matt's favorite purple shirt and a tie. Something, a long dormant arousal, stirred sluggishly.

"Are you okay?"

Matt didn't answer, just dropped his gaze back down to the statue in his lap.

"Can we talk?" Kitt asked, lowering himself onto the bed.

"About what?"

"Well, we could talk about the fact that you've been so fucking distant lately," Kitt said. "We could talk about the fact that I hardly know who you are anymore. We could talk about the fact that you have gotten fired from your job because you don't show up anymore. Or the fact that you haven't been going to class and are about to be put on academic probation. Or maybe we could even talk about why I've been sitting at the restaurant that I made reservations at for my birthday for the past two hours waiting for you to show up?"

Matt didn't look up. He wished Kitt would go away. Those things were just distractions. Kitt was a distraction. Distractions that tried to keep him away from her. Pandora. He tried to ignore him, to lose himself in her gaze again.

Instead, Matt heard Kitt heave a disgusted sigh and the next thing Matt knew he was looking at his empty hands. The disconnect was so sudden, so jarring, that it was a physical pain, an ache.

"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you," Kitt snarled.

Matt almost didn't register his hand moving until he had already started the swing and was unable to do anything but follow through. He couldn't deny the vicious satisfaction he felt when his fist met the hard ridge of Kitt's jawline.

Kitt remained standing, his head cocked to the side for what seemed like a long time after Matt's blow. He finally turned and lifted his hand to wipe at the trickle of blood coming from the edge of his mouth. For a moment, Matt was sure that Kitt was going to use the statue to strike him back in return, fracture his skull or dislocate his jaw. But Kitt simply dropped the statue harmlessly on the bed.

"I give up," Kitt said, raising his hands in submission. "I'm not going to take this shit. Hope the stupid bitch is worth it."

Then his boyfriend was turning, exiting the room. Matt heard the front door open and shut. Then silence. Distractions were gone.

It was just him. And her.

And the box.

It was all the same. Same clearing, the same dazzling splendor painted in high summer colors. For a moment everything was held in beautiful perfect clarity. It was almost anti-climatic. She held the box, open wide. Her eyes shone with fierce pleasure, her smile was docile sweetness and her beauty was immaculate perfection. He felt a strange pull of attraction that he had never felt for the fairer sex before down in his belly. The way he used to feel for Kitt.

(Who?)

Then he felt the wrongness, the stillness. The leaves were no longer twisting in the mild summer breeze that kept the clearing cool. He could no longer hear the chirp and buzz of summertime birds and insects. The colors around him, so vibrant and bright, almost unnaturally so, took on an over-saturated tone. It was a split second pause, almost unnoticeable. And the box in her hands, open.

Before the world exploded around him.

He woke explosively, with a sudden outward whoosh of breath. He moved groggily, his mind plagued with disorientation, his body with exhaustion. He slid his limbs over the crumbled sheets of his bed, forcing the muscles to flex, the joints to bend, haunted by a vague sense of urgency he didn't understand. The explosion from his dream, as the world ignited around him, still rung in his ears, except this time it sounded more like screaming.

Her screams.

Pandora's screams.

He cast about frantically. Where was she? Where had he left her? Where?

He shook his head angrily, trying to rid himself of the fog and finally registered the chalky aftertaste that lay heavily on his tongue.

The pills. The painkillers. He hadn't taken them in days, why...

He turned his head, screams echoing in his mind.

Kitt was back, crouched on the floor. Something was in his hand, upraised.

A hammer.

"I'm not going to break the damn thing. But if it is marble, which is what it looks like, you should handle it carefully. Marble is heavy but it's a soft stone."

The hammer fell, and he felt that jar again, that horrible disconnect. He clamored clumsily across the bed, shouting.

"No, no, stop, stop it!"

His hands reached for Kitt and the other man shoved him off easily. The pills were having their predicted effect, making him slow, sleepy, and clumsy.

What he could see of the statue was ruined, a broken, crumbled mess of marble stone. Kitt lowered the hammer. Matt sank down next to him, cradling his head in his hands. It was pounding with a monstrous headache, but it felt clearer now than it had for days, even with the medication.

"Sorry, baby," Kitt said. His voice was raw and hoarse and Matt realized with a mix of sadness and shame that he had been crying. "I couldn't... It was..."

Matt shook his head.

"Finish it. God, please."

Kitt pulled a bottle out of his pocket.

"What is that?" Matt asked.

"Holy water," Kitt said. He hesitated, and handed it to Matt. "You do it," Kitt said. "You finish it. Show me you can."

Matt glanced down at the statue. No Pandora. No beauty staring at him with glowing amber eyes. Just stones. Pieces. Rubble. Garbage.

Matt poured the water over it, watched it foam and fizzle like hydrogen peroxide on a wound. A wound that would have spread and taken him over if Kitt hadn't stepped in.

If he hadn't saved him.

If he hadn't loved him.

"Now what?" Kitt asked, closing the box.

Matt stared at the box, the Greek symbols etched in the top. "We bury the bitch."

* * * * *

Matt struggled to sit up in the hospital bed, swatting at the nurse who was trying to help him. "I can get dressed myself," he groused. "I know you just come in here to try to get another look at my ass."

The nurse, an older, gray haired lady who still wore a white uniform and her nurse's cap rolled her eyes. "Honey, even if I had an interest in your tuckus, I am too old and too married to do much with it. I ain't having you fall down and crack your head open until you are off my floor. I'll pull the curtain for your modesty."

Matt had just gotten his socks pulled on and was wrestling his feet into his shoes when he heard a light knock on the door and then Kitt's cheerful voice. Grinning, Matt yanked back the curtain and winked at him. "Come to save me from the lecherous advances of my favorite nurse?"

"All the lecherous advances will be from me from now on," Kitt replied, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"So, can I go?"

"As soon as the nurses finish up your discharge paperwork." Kitt pressed his lips to Matt's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"That was a really high fever you were sick with. Your teachers and friends were all worried about you."

Matt was silent on that. His medical records had shown that he was sick with an aggressive strain of flu that had sent his temperature soaring dangerously high, after which he had been submitted to the hospital suffering hallucinations and dehydration. A week of strong antibiotics and fluids had gotten his fever down and his strength back. So far he had lacked the courage to ask Kitt about the strange events following the remodeling job on the bathroom and his boyfriend hadn't brought the subject up.

After he was back in their small house, he found himself reflexively looking at the dresser which was free of everything except the everyday detritus of spare change, keys, cell phones, and half empty packs of gum. Matt turned away and walked out on the small balcony. Kitt joined him a few moments later, handing him a Gatorade.

"The doctor says you still need to be pushing fluids for the next few days."

"I haven’t done anything else for the past week."

"The sooner you are one hundred percent well, the sooner I can put my lecherous thoughts into action," Kitt teased.

Matt sipped at the beverage, his eyes scanning the yard.

"Did we do it?"

"Do what?"

"Bury her. It."

Kitt was quiet beside him for a moment. Then, finally. "Yes."

"I can't tell where."

"Good," Kitt said. "Try to forget it."

"Did we bury it deep?"

"If we had dug any deeper, we would have ended up in the Indian Ocean."

Matt hung his head. "So it wasn't a nightmare."

"Forget about it baby."

"I can't. You saved me."

Kitt sighed. "To be honest, I wasn't sure what was happening at first. I could see that you were withdrawing, and becoming distant. I thought it was just that you were having a bad month and that your back was bothering you more than you let on. Then I noticed that you started coming back to the house at odd times throughout the day. So one day I hid and watched you. You would come in and look at the statue. Then turn to leave. And come back, less than five minutes later. And again. Sometimes, you would just come in, sit and stare at it. Hold her and stare. Sometimes I was in the same room and it's like you didn't even know I existed. Then it started happening during times when I knew you were supposed to be in class or at work. You also became really paranoid that someone was going to try to steal it. One the rare occasions that you did leave, you would text me and ask me check on it. Then one night, I woke up and saw you sitting and staring at it. And the damn thing... I could see something, some light reflecting in your eyes. It was crazy, but it was there. And your gaze, it was so empty.

"The night that you forgot my birthday... I decided things had gone far enough. I got angry and left. I went to St. Elias' and asked what I should do. They told me to destroy it, break it if I could, burn it if I couldn't. We had to pour holy water or put a St. Benedict medal on it to neutralize it. Then we dug up a hole, put her in there, poured more holy water. I covered it up while you were in the hospital."

Matt listened to all that dumbfounded. He could barely remember any of it. It was either the fever or Pandora's influence that had wiped those memories from his mind. "You saved my life."

Kitt grinned. "You didn't think I was going to lose you to some stone bitch after I worked so hard to make you go out with me, did you?"

Matt chuckled. He appreciated the fact that Kitt was trying to make light of a situation that had been nothing short of terrifying, but everytime he thought of it, his own guilt and self-disgust rose up inside him. Kitt had even tried to warn him, back at the beginning.

"Maybe you should just leave it alone."

Kitt kissed the back to his neck. "Let's just forget about her. Pretend that it never happened. Now come on and lay down for a while. You need your rest."

"Just promise me she's gone."

"She is, baby. Buried. And we'll never see her again."

Matt finally turned, and let his boyfriend lead him back inside.

She was gone. Buried, never to be unearthed again.

* * * * *

Cahil sat in his tree, conveniently located where his parents would have a hard time seeing him and yelling at him to get down. It was especially helpful on days when the diggers came if he could get past his mom. It was blatantly breaking one of the stupid rules that his mom liked to make up to ruin his fun–this one being to stay inside when the diggers were working. He figured his mom thought he was dumb enough to actually fall into the large pit that would eventually house their new in-ground pool, but he had no intention on venturing over there. He just liked seeing the machines work, especially the yellow excavator, with its long neck and jagged teeth digging into the soft soil. Right now, most of the soil was in a large pile, waiting to be loaded into the dump truck. A collection of workers, most from the nearby college, were clustered around the excavator, chatting and drinking coffee. Something glinted in the pile of dirt and Cahil craned his neck for a closer look.

Glancing over at the workers again, Cahil nimbly climbed down the network of branches until he was able to jump to the ground. He approached the pile–it was bigger than he was!–looking for the mysterious glint again.

Here it was. A shiny clasp on a box. He gripped it and pulled hard. The box dislodged itself, sending a tiny shower of dirt cascading down the sides. He heard one of the workers shout something and quickly tucked his new prize underneath his arm and ran around to the side of house. Still unsure if the shout had been directed at him, he slid inside the tool shed. Satisfied with the small amount of privacy, he knelt down on the dirt and sawdust and brushed the dirt away, revealing a set of symbols, carved into strange exotic shapes that he didn’t recognize. Curious, he fingered the latch of the box, flipped it open, gripped the edge of the box...

...and pulled it open to reveal Pandora to the world once again.