Original slash. Deal with it. Non-graphic, except for some references to self harm and abuse. Once again, deal with it. There will be 10 chapters.
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Chapter one: Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time…

Jamie Calhoun was not, usually, a nervous man. It was a nice side-effect of being an informal oracle. And so, it was to Jamie that people turned for reassurance before harrowingly social events. He was famous for his cool head and unflappable common sense, and most of his friends were not. But today, Jamie was rapidly turning into a nervous wreck.

It was just a visit, he told himself over and over again. His friend Anne had invited him, her friend Sara, and Sara’s friend Edward over for dinner. And, of course, therein lay the problem. Jamie had met Edward before, and the other man was a wonderful and charming person. Which was the entire issue. Jamie had taken one look at Edward and fallen madly in love with him. Not just in an, ‘oh, he’s only the cutest guy I’ve ever seen,’ way, but all the way. In love like the, ‘I never want to be with anyone else ever,’ way. But Edward had demonstrated no signs whatsoever of being interested in Jamie, and Jamie was not the kind of man to but in where he wasn’t wanted.

He glanced at his bedside clock. 5:37. He’d told Anne that he’d be at her place around six. It was a short walk away, and he was in good enough shape that it wouldn’t be an issue. So he had just under twenty minutes to pull himself together. Anne knew, or suspected, far too much already, and he didn’t want her to try and be matchmaker in chief. It was probably a lost cause anyway, and he had no desire to allow her to break his heart. Not that it was hard to do. He’d never really recovered from the estrangement from his family, and he tended to cling to his friends far more than they appreciated.

He shook himself hard. This was no time to remember. Jamie hated remembering, and he’d pushed his memories so far into a tiny box that he’d almost forgotten how to let them out. He had no desire to do so now.

He glanced at the clock again. 5:43. Damn. He really did need to get ready. He moved over to his closet and pulled open the door. He examined the clothes he owned, wondering whether to dress up or not. No, he decided. Anne hardly ever dressed up, and she would just laugh at him if he showed up in a suit. Jeans, then. Jeans and maybe a smart-aleck T-shirt. He had a lot of those.

He left the house at 5:55, knowing that he was going to be late. Not even he could walk half a mile in five minutes. Nor was he willing to take a bus. It wasn’t cold, and he needed the exercise. He hadn’t gotten out enough, what with studying and the weather. Jamie hated being cold. It was one of the many legacies of a childhood accident. It had left him with extreme sensitivity to changes in temperature, as well as a slight limp. He’d worked hard to get rid of the limp, but it refused to vanish completely. He doubted that it ever would.

Anne was waiting for him. She pulled open the door at his knock, and eyes him sardonically.

“You’re late,” she said.

Jamie raised his eyebrows. “How very observant,” he said dryly. “Any more genius observations?”

She laughed, and stepped aside to let him in. Anne’s apartment was small and rather messy, but Jamie liked it. It gave him the feeling that it was lived in, something that the unnaturally tidy apartments of some of his other friends didn’t. He dropped with comfortable familiarity into the slightly worn couch, and watched as his friend moved out of sight and into the kitchen. She’d pulled her long brown hair back into a practical pony tail, and it bounced slightly as she made her way into the other room. She too was dressed casually, but in black jeans and an old T-shirt bearing the logo of her old ice skating team. She’d skated with them until graduating from high school, but college life had been just too much to handle, and she’d had to quit. She still kept all of the garments with the logos, though, and wore them at every possible occasion. She liked to joke that she had more team spirit than school spirit, and he thought that she was certainly right.

“Sara and Edward will be here in about twenty minutes,” she called. “And if you want anything to drink, just holler.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Anything decent to drink in there?” he shouted back.

She came out to prop her hands on her hips. She was still holding a wooden spoon, and a tendril of hair had escaped from her pony tail. She pushed it absently behind her ear. “There is the same that there always is,” she informed him. “And if you don’t remember, then go look for yourself!”

“Some hostess you are,” Jamie muttered, heaving himself to his feet. “Won’t even pour drinks for the poor traveler at you door.”

“You have far more money than I do,” she reminded him. “And I’m not letting you sleep in my room, either. If you need to spend the night, you will do it on the couch, not in my bed.”

He grimaced. “You’re so kind,” he said dryly. He pulled open her fridge and glanced at the array of bottles that confronted him. She’d never gotten into the habit of keeping soda in her fridge, like he did, but she had several boxes of cans of minute maid apple juice. He grabbed one and shut the fridge door, leaning against it as he popped the top and took a long drink. He grimaced slightly as he swallowed.

“Why do you drink those, if you don’t like them?” Anne demanded, catching his expression.

He shrugged. “You don’t keep any decent drinks around.”

“I choose to keep my teeth in good condition,” she informed him haughtily. “Besides, soda is disgustingly sweet and it doesn’t taste normal.”

“I’ll have you know that this stuff,” he waved the can of juice, “isn’t much healthier than soda.”

She grinned. “No,” she agreed. “But I can pretend that it is.”

He rolled his eyes. Anne was a big believer in denial, but he thought that sometimes she went too far.

“But your doctor won’t,” he promised.

She shrugged. “And? It’s my life, after all.”

He didn’t answer. She was right, and he supposed that it was better that she’d turned to apple juice instead of to cigarettes or drugs.

They talked for the remainder of the time, discussing completely innocent topics like school and music. Anne was going to a doctorate in the archeological history of the Steppes of Eurasia, and was trying to scrape together enough money to go on an expedition. She had a mad idea of digging up the fabled Amazon warrioresses and proving once and for all that they had existed, but it was so far stuck at the fund-raising stage.

Jamie himself had more achievable ambitions. He wanted to a historian, though he knew himself well enough to know that he could never actually teach, and he was half thinking of getting a doctorate in ancient Japan. He was still studying for his Masters, though, and the doctorate was a dream, not an achievable reality.

Finally, there was the ringing of the doorbell.

“Can you answer that?” Anne asked, not turning. She didn’t have to. Jamie just knew that she was grinning her evil plotter’s grin. “My hands are full.”

Jamie couldn’t object without exposing himself, so he put his apple juice down and moved to open the door. It was them. Of course it was them. Who else would it be? He let them into the living room, trying to stare at Edward without being obvious about it. The other man was as beautiful as he’d been the other time. He was a complete opposite to Jamie. Where Jamie was stark contrasts and sharp angles, Edward was smooth and balanced. His hair was a few shades lighter than Jamie’s own jet black locks, and it blended seamlessly into Edward’s tanned face. His light brown eyes were soft and intelligent, and they showed none of the bitterness that Jamie knew his own gray ones displayed to the world. Edward moved with a grace that Jamie couldn’t match, and every gesture that he made was smooth and fluid. Jamie was insanely jealous, as well as being insanely attracted. It had been so from the beginning.
They passed five minutes in tense silence, before Anne emerged from the kitchen. She lifted her eyebrows at the scene, glanced at Sara, and rolled her eyes. Jamie was terrified that she would turn to him and tell him to talk to the other two, but she didn’t. Instead, she started a conversation with Sara, much like the one that she and Jamie had been having. They talked of school and of Sara’s sister and of Anne’s brother, and gradually the atmosphere lightened. Jamie watched Sara as she talked, noting absently that she was a very pretty woman. Her short dark brown hair was pulled back with a black silk headband, and she was dressed –as usual– in black. Her ears, finally pierced, were adorned with two guitars, and her dark eyes flashed with pleasure as she and Anne recalled old memories. She was indeed lovely, but Jamie’s heart was pinned elsewhere.

Finally, Anne announced that dinner was ready. They trundled into the kitchen, and Jamie made sure to pick a spot that wasn’t next to Edward. Of course, that meant that he was facing the other man, but it was better than being next to him. This way, he could keep his face turned to his food, using the excuse of eating to hide the blush that was too obvious on his pale cheeks.

Maybe it was only his imagination, but Jamie thought that Edward seemed just as tense as he himself was. Anne and Sara carried the conversation through most of the meal, and Jamie could see that the two of them were finding his embarrassment highly amusing. They didn’t display it openly, but Jamie knew Anne well enough to detect the carefully concealed grin. He wondered if Sara’s face held the same expression.
As the meal wound down to a close, Anne leaned back in her chair, stretching her long legs out in front of her.

“We should do this more often,” she announced.

Sara looked at her. “You think that you can?” she asked. “You’re the busiest out of all of us.”

Anne sighed. “If this is what comes of not working, then I think I might do it more often. It’s way more rewarding than I ever realized.”

Sara grinned. “See? I knew I’d bring you around!”

Anne grinned back. “Stop it,” she said. “It’s all your fault that I’m not completely obsessed with my job, you know.”

“Of course,” Sara agreed. She glanced at her watch, then raised her eyebrows. “It’s almost ten. Edward, do you need a ride home?”

Edward shook his head, causing his brown hair to flop into his eyes. Jamie itched to stroke it out of the way. He looked firmly down at the table and his now empty plate. “I’ll walk,” Edward said. “It’s not too far, and I could use the exercise.”

Sara shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She stood, stretching out her own legs. She grabbed her purse and dug out her car keys. “See you all… Sunday, is it?”

Anne shrugged. “Not me,” she said. “I’ve got a meet.”

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Another one?”

“Un-huh. I’m determined to win this one.”

Sara laughed. “I’m sure you will,” she said. “Well then, I’ll see you after that. Email me, will you?”

Anne nodded. “You’d better answer me,” she warned.

“I promise,” Sara said solemnly. She walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Jamie sighed.

“I should probably go as well,” he said, disappointed. He wanted to spend more time with Edward, even if the two of them had barely exchanged three words over the course of the entire evening.

Anne grinned. “See you on Monday, then,” she said.

“See you,” he agreed, standing. Edward stood as well, and bade goodbye to Anne. The two men walked out of the room together and down the stairs, moving in a comfortable silence. At the door, Edward turned.

“Which way do you live?” he asked.

Jamie nodded towards his own apartment. “About half a mile that way.”

Edward smiled. It sent shivers up Jamie’s spine, and he had to keep his face firmly fixed on his dirty white sneakers.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” Edward asked. Jamie allowed himself a quick glance up at the other man’s face. It was too dark to tell for sure, but Jamie thought that he could detect just the slightest hint of a blush on Edward’s perfect features. They’d started walking again, and Jamie suddenly stumbled. His weaker leg gave out again, and he would have fallen, but for the strong arms that caught him. Jamie looked up into Edward’s worried brown eyes, and saw what had always been there. Jamie had been too afraid to see it, but now it was clear, and Jamie felt it fill his own eyes in answer.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked, his voice full of worry.

Jamie nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. Almost without conscious direction from him, his hand reached up to touch Edward’s. Edward’s fingers brushed his face, and almost before they realized what was happening, they were kissing passionately.

They let go of each other after a long, timeless moment. Jamie looked at Edward, his gray eyes full of love. “Yes, Edward. You may walk me home.”

*comes to a stop from her skipping* Gosh. You know I love this, right? Cause I do. I really do. <333 You write these two so well. I love Jamie and Edward, so now I have two visions of the name Edward: Edward Cullen, and your beautiful Edward.

*cannot wait for more*

i'm so glad you like it. i love your stuff too!
and you're in luck. here is more:
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Chapter two: For the gift of love, I will give you free…

“Hey Jamie!” His friend Becca ran over to catch up with him as he walked out of the main building on the campus.

Jamie looked at her, raising an eyebrow in question. She panted for a short moment, recovering from the sprint across the park. “David says, do you want to come over to his house after class?” she managed finally.

Jamie shook his head. “Sorry,” he said regretfully. “I’ve got work.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “So ditch,” she said. “You spend too much time there anyway.”

“That’s because I need the money,” Jamie reminded her. “My parents aren’t paying for my tuition, you know.”

“Well, missing one day isn’t going to kill you,” she said in exasperation.

“Becca, this would make at least four,” he said. “I’m still on probation anyway.”

“You’re on what?” she demanded.

“On probation from last time you convinced me to go off with you and David,” he repeated. “I need the money, Becca, and I can’t afford to throw this job away.”

She sighed. “If you’re sure. He promised lots of fun and all manner of fun things to drink.”

Jamie winced. “Remind me again why you want to go?” he asked. He’d tried drinking with Becca and David a couple of times before, and he’d been supremely uncomfortable with the entire experience. He still wasn’t sure what his friends saw in it, but they must have liked it some, or they wouldn’t do it.

“You don’t know how to have a good time,” Becca chided him.

“I’d rather have it sober, thanks,” he answered dryly. “It doesn’t get you arrested.”

“All of us are of age!” Becca protested. “Well, almost all of us.”

He snorted. “You mean, none of you but David?”

“Well, yeah,” she admitted. “My birthday’s in three months, though.”

“Becca, do you think the cops are going to care?” Jamie demanded. “They’re going to see that you’re all too young for it, and they’re going to fine you anyway.”

“Well then, guess we just won’t get caught,” she answered, grinning at him. “You sure you can’t come?”

“Absolutely,” he said with conviction. “I have no desire to be hauled in by the police.”

“Spoil-sport,” she said good-naturedly. “So I’ll tell David that you can’t make it.”

“You do that,” he agreed. She waved at him, then sped off towards the other end of the campus. Jamie watched her go, then went off in the other direction, heading for his next class. Along the way, he passed Edward. He felt his heart flop in his chest, and almost stopped to say hello to the other man. Edward passed right by him without stopping, though, and Jamie felt himself deflate like a punctured balloon. He walked miserably to his class, wondering just what he’d done wrong.
He spent the next few days in dazed confusion. He couldn’t believe that someone like Edward had chosen him, and he was utterly amazed at how much he wanted it to be true. And yet, he’d passed Edward and Edward had ignored him. So what did that say? It said that Edward thought he’d made a mistake in choosing Jamie. Jamie’s heart was in pain, and he wondered just how he was going to get through the disappointment. He’d known that he loved Edward since he first laid eyes on the brown haired man, and to be basically slapped right after that one, astonishing kiss was almost worse than just being turned down straight off. He’d gotten his hopes up, and they’d been crushed in their tracks.

He didn’t see Edward again during those days of inner turmoil, and as the week drew to a close, he began to fear that he’d dreamed the kiss completely. Why else would Edward be ignoring him? Was it a mistake, what had happened outside Anne’s apartment? Had Jamie completely misread the signals that Edward was sending? As Edward continued to make himself scarce, Jamie became more and more convinced that it was true.

He would probably have sunk into some kind of deep depression if it weren’t for the doorbell. It had been a week since Anne’s little get-together, and he hadn’t heard from Edward since. As the familiar chimes of the doorbell sang through his house, he wondered just when he was going to see his love of one night again.

As though fate had read his mind (and, for all Jamie knew, it probably had) Edward himself was standing in the doorway. Jamie stared at him for a long, shocked moment, until Edward asked, “So are you going to let me in?”

Jamie blushed a deep crimson and stepped aside, allowing Edward to come into his home. He closed the door behind him, then turned slowly towards the chair where Edward had deposited himself. “You took you time in coming,” he said, almost without realizing it.

To Jamie’s amazement, Edward ducked his head in embarrassment. “I meant to!” he assured Jamie earnestly. “I really did! But, you know. Life reared its ugly head and all.”

“I know,” Jamie agreed, a little faintly. All these days of agonizing had been for nothing! Edward hadn’t forgotten about him, hadn’t regretted it at all!

“Besides,” Edward added. “You didn’t come either.”

Jamie’s face flamed even more. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d been too wrapped up in his own misery to even contemplate going himself. “I…I thought that you might not want to see me,” he mumbled.

Edward’s dark face took on an amazed expression. “Not want to see you?” he demanded. “You must be out of your mind!”

“You ignored me at school,” Jamie told him, wondering just who it was who was controlling his vocal functions. It wasn’t his consciousness, that was for sure!

Edward frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“On Monday. I passed you and you completely ignored me.” Now he sounded like a petulant high school girl. No wonder Edward hadn’t wanted to talk to him.

Comprehension dawned on Edward’s face. “You didn’t say anything either,” he pointed out. “Besides, I was trying to remember the quadratic equation, and I kept getting stuck. I was trying to concentrate.”

Jamie’s own mind reasserted itself in time to stop his mouth from blurting out that he considered himself to be more important than the quadratic equation in the general scheme of things. Instead, he looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I’m just being difficult.”

Edward smiled at him, making Jamie’s heart melt a little more. “You’ve been worrying, haven’t you?”

Jamie didn’t deny it. He was convinced that, by now, his face was stained crimson permanently.

Edward shook his head in amused bewilderment. “When someone kisses you, Jamie, it usually means that they want to see you again.”

Jamie still didn’t answer, and after a moment, Edward continued. “What will convince you that I’m serious?”

Jamie tried his hand at a smile. The mood in the room was too dark, too intense. He was uncomfortably out of his depth, and he was fighting to regain his center. “Take me down to strawberry fields and convince me that nothing else is real,” he said.

Edward grinned. “I will,” he promised. “Is that it?”

Jamie snorted, glancing out the window at the snow on the ground. “If you can find me strawberries, then I promise you that it will be enough.”

“Anything more attainable, perhaps?” Edward pressed. “After all, I’d rather not have to wait until July to prove it to you.”

“You could kiss me again,” Jamie suggested, hoping that he wasn’t pushing too far.

“Oh is that all?” Edward asked. “That’s easily given.” He stood and crossed the room with two long, graceful strides. When he reached Jamie, he leaned down slightly and touched his lips gently to Jamie’s. They held the connection for a breathless, timeless moment. When Edward pulled away again, his face was very slightly flushed, and Jamie knew that he himself was blushing like a schoolgirl. Still. “Does that convince you?” Edward asked, his voice slightly husky.

Jamie nodded. “It does,” he whispered, hearing the reminder of the recent kiss in his own voice.

They spent the rest of the day together, laughing, talking, planning. Jamie realized that he knew nothing at all about Edward, and that the reverse was true as well. All that had happened before was mutual physical attraction, which, while wonderful, was not nearly enough to base a true relationship on. What they explored now was beyond physicality. They learned secrets and hopes, anecdotes of their childhoods and hopes for the future. Jamie was careful only to share the good parts of his childhood, leaving out all the parts that involved his being disinherited and running away from home. Edward didn’t need to know that yet, and Jamie wasn’t willing to ruin the easy camaraderie of the day. There would be time later to explore sadness and blindness. Today was for light hearts and laughter, not tears.

Edward stayed over that night, and they talked long into the night over a bottle of wine. They laughed over completely random things, and Jamie suddenly began to see a little of what Becca and the others saw in getting drunk. For the first time, he realized that it wasn’t the getting drunk that made it fun, it was who you got drunk with. Getting drunk with Edward was far preferable to getting drunk with Becca. He couldn’t explain it, and he wasn’t sober enough to want to; he just accepted it for what it was.

At one point, around two in the morning, Edward leaned back. “So,” he asked, his voice only very slightly slurred by the wine. “Are you convinced that I love you yet?”

Jamie grinned. His earlier anxiety and discomfort had all but vanished, and he was completely comfortable with this man. “I am,” he said.

“Good. Then I don’t have to worry.”

“You didn’t have to worry at all,” Jamie said. “I was being silly.”

Edward’s expression was rapidly changing from playful to serious. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jamie,” he said earnestly. “I really don’t.”

“You won’t,” Jamie assured him, his grin fading. “Honestly, you won’t hurt me.”

“I’ve hurt too many people,” Edward mumbled, his eyes dropping down to a fascinated contemplation of the table. “I don’t want you to be another one.”

Jamie reached over and touched Edward. “Edward,” he said quietly. “Edward, I promise you. You won’t hurt me with your love.” ‘I’ve been hurt before,’ he added silently. ‘And I can take it now.’

Edward looked up, and his eyes were so full of anxious love that Jamie’s heart felt as though it would burst. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering him, Jamie leaned over and kissed him deeply. It took a long moment, but finally Edward responded. They held the kiss for yet another breathless minute, and when they finally pulled away, Jamie whispered, “Yes.”

*snuggles Jamie and Edward* You know how much I love this. You're so good, and I love this pair so much.

i don't think i'll post any more until you post more of your stories, then. i love vanete and dune too, you know, and i want to read more about them!

glad you like my story, though. i love them too .

Oh, fine. Be that way. hmpff. *goes to post*

EDIT: There, all posted. Now, more, please? *puppy dog eyes*

okay, just to make you happy .
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Chapter three: Once we all were children, and so it was we played…

Edward was careful not to ignore Jamie again, and Jamie couldn’t get enough of the other man’s love and attention. But, no matter how wonderful Edward’s company was, Jamie couldn’t help remembering the other one. The first one. The one who had hurt him so much. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that Edward was not like that, he still couldn’t get the other one out of his mind.

Edward too seemed to be fighting demons. There were times when they seemed to get the better of him, but he always managed to fight back. Jamie was impressed. He wished that he were as strong as the man he loved. But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t possible for him to become like that. He was caught in between the two extremes of life: there was enough pain to justify his vulnerability, but not enough to make him strong. It was an unhappy median, and he couldn’t see any way out. His only relief was Edward. They continued to see each other regularly, and there were times when Jamie could forget the past that was still haunting him.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and neither one of them had a class. They had chosen to recline beneath the trees in the campus park, and Jamie was leaning comfortably under a huge maple. Edward was stretched out on his back, watching as the clouds floated by in the light breeze. Jamie idly traced patterns in the dirt, wondering about nothing and everything. He could see each blade of grass with perfect clarity, and the individual modules of dirt that clung to his fingers were each unique and special. He sifted the dirt through his hand, noting that it didn’t fall in a regular pattern, but in a series of waves dependent on the unconscious trembling of his hand.

Edward shifted, and Jamie could hear it as though his hearing were magnified a hundredfold. His friend changed position, twisting so that he could look at Jamie. His brown eyes held Jamie’s silver ones, and he smiled slightly.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered. “I can hear the wheels turning.”

“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are,” Jamie whispered back.

Edward smiled sweetly. Jamie’s face began to turn pink again, which only made Edward’s smile broaden. “You’re pretty damn beautiful yourself,” he commented.

“I’m not,” Jamie murmured. “You’re just saying that.”

“No I’m not!” Edward insisted. “You are beautiful, Jamie. Never let anyone tell you otherwise, you understand?”

Jamie shifted, uncomfortable with the conversation. He knew that he wasn’t beautiful, knew that Edward was only saying that because Jamie looked like he needed to hear it. He changed the subject hurriedly.

“What do you see in the clouds?”

Edward chucked, presumably at Jamie’s discomfort more than at the question. “You’re changing the subject,” he chided.

“You’re right, I am,” Jamie agreed. “So what do you see?”

“I see a man who won’t tell anyone who he is,” Edward teased.

Jamie wrinkled his nose. “No you don’t!” he insisted. “Fine. If you won’t tell me what you see, then I won’t tell you what I see in them.”

Edward grinned at him. “Oh, all right. It’s silly, though.”

Jamie shrugged. “They’re clouds, Edward. They’re not supposed to make any sense.”

“I see a rabbit throwing a four-leafed clover and a giant hand catching it,” Edward admitted.
Jamie burst out laughing.

“I told you it was silly,” Edward said defensively.

“Oh Gods,” Jamie gasped finally. “You see all that in the clouds?! You should be a children’s author. You’d be the next greatest hit!”

“I can’t write to save my life,” Edward admitted. “I just know how to invent random things and make them funny.”

“Writing isn’t hard,” Jamie said, controlling himself once more.

“Not if you have a talent for it,” Edward admitted. “I’ve read some of your stuff in the school paper, you know. You’ve got the talent.”

“Thanks,” Jamie muttered, blushing again. “But it’s nothing.”

“Nonsense!” Edward said briskly. “I know genius when I read it. Just because I can’t write doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate good literature, you know.”

“I don’t hold a candle to any of the real authors,” Jamie insisted. “I just do it as a hobby.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “And why do you always play down your strengths?” he demanded. “Anyone with eyes and a literate brain can see that you’re ten times better than a lot of the idiots who’ve been published.”

“Like who?”

“That one guy who wrote Wicked. I forget his name, but you know the one I mean.”
“McGuire,” Jamie supplied.

“That’s the one,” Edward agreed. “You’re loads better than him.”

“Yeah, but he’s really bad,” Jamie countered.

“He’s boring,” Edward contradicted. “That’s different.”

“He’s still pretty bad, though.”

“Well, then you’re better than J. K. Rowling,” Edward said. “Better?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jamie admitted. “I never read her books.”

Edward stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jamie shook his head. “I had a religious upbringing,” he said dryly. “Much as I dislike it, it left its mark.”

Edward grimaced. “You can work around that,” he assured Jamie. “I did. I’ll lend you my copy of the first book, all right?”

Jamie shrugged. “If you insist.”

“Promise me that you’ll read it.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” He leaned back again, pulling open the buttons of his coat and spreading it out across the ground around him. “So what do you see in the clouds?”

“Nothing so original,” Jamie warned. “I do my best thinking on paper.”

“Not on a computer?”

“That counts as paper.”

“No it doesn’t. Computers are electronic and paper is real.”

Jamie snorted. “When it comes to writing, the two are fairly interchangeable. Do you want to know what I see or not?”

“I would love to know what you see,” Edward assured him. “Tell me.”

Jamie looked up at the clouds again, screwing up his eyes in concentration. “I see a mountain,” he said slowly. “And a round blobby thingy, and a heart.”

Edward whistled softly. “And what does it mean?” he asked.

“Why are you asking me?” Jamie demanded. “I don’t know!”

“You’re the one who works at that creepy fortune-telling place,” Edward countered.

Jamie scowled. “It’s not a creepy fortune-telling place, it’s a temple,” he countered. “And we do not tell the future with clouds, thank you very much! We have standards!”

“So you’ll do the night sky but not the daytime one? That seems a bit illogical.”

“I don’t do either one. I look into crystal balls,” Jamie assured him, knowing full well that Edward wouldn’t care for that either.

Sure enough, Edward’s face contorted into a grimace of distaste. “So you’re telling me that those are logical?”

“Well, you can see real things in them,” Jamie countered.

“Like what?”

“Depends on the person.”

“What about me?”

Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never looked for you in the Orb.”

“Where is it?”

“At the temple.”

“Let’s go!”

Jamie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s go!” Edward repeated. “I’m curious now.”

“It won’t be the most pleasant experience in the world,” Jamie warned. “Most people don’t like what I tell them.”

“How bad can it be?” Edward asked. Jamie shrugged.

“Can’t we try anyway?”

Jamie sighed. “Oh, all right,” he said reluctantly. He pushed himself off from against the tree, using it as leverage to take the weight of getting up off his weaker leg. It had been acting up again ever since the dinner party, and he had no desire to have it give out again. Edward rose gracefully, not buttoning his coat back up.

“You’re going to freeze,” Jamie pointed out. “It’s got to be below freezing out here.”

“I’ll live,” Edward assured him. “I’m tough.”

Jamie shrugged. “If you say so.” They started walking, heading out of the park and onto the main campus. Edward let Jamie take the lead, following him as he navigated the often-trod paths to what was jokingly known as the temple.

Run by a former undergrad, the temple was a haven for all types of religion and none at all. It was a melting pot of cultures and traditions, from the typical Christian worship to Jareth’s version of the ancient pagan religions. Jamie loved it. He’d left an overzealous Catholic home in part to escape the permeating atmosphere of stifling religion. To come to a place like the temple, where no one cared a whit about what you believed in so long as you deigned to honor everyone else, was like stepping into the light.

“Have you ever been here before?” Jamie asked Edward as they passed through the replicated Roman columns that marked the entrance to the temple.

Edward shook his head. “I keep meaning to,” he admitted. “But I’ve never gotten around to it.”

Jamie grinned, stepping into the main complex. “It’s different from anywhere you’ve ever been,” he promised. He slipped his boots off and padded farther into the main room. Edward copied him and they walked together towards the gigantic statue of the Buddha that Jareth had had imported from India before Jamie had started working there.

“So where do you work?” Edward asked, staring at the paintings that adorned the walls. Jamie didn’t blame him. Some of those paintings still made him blush.

“In here,” Jamie said, holding open the handing strands of beads and chimes that marked the entrance to his private domain. Edward stepped through and stopped dead, staring around him in shock. Jamie slipped in behind him, glancing around nervously himself, trying to see it from Edward’s point of view.

He had arranged the room purposely as a complete and utter clash of cultures. There was no thought to the way things fit together or how they related to one another. Instead, statuettes of the Hindu Gods were aligned across from crucifixes, and miniature Greek temples were displayed next to Egyptian mummies. The wall were painted in contrasting shades of green and blue, with all the other colors except for yellow thrown in here and there Jackson Pollock style. Nothing in the entire room was yellow, and Jamie intended to keep it that way. He hated yellow.

“You did this?” Edward asked, still looking around, trying to take it all in.

Jamie nodded. He was on home territory now, and he felt less confused and hesitant than he had all week. “You won’t be able to take it all in today. I’ve been working here for years, and it still surprises me sometimes.”

Edward blinked and sent his eyes off to examine the small table that was the only visible piece of proper furniture in the room. “And this is where you do it, is it?” he asked.

Jamie nodded.

“Where’s the ball?”

Jamie grinned. “It’s a trade secret,” he said mysteriously. “You have to promise me that you’ll sit through it all and not run out if I say something you don’t want to hear.”

Edward snorted. “I promise,” he said seriously. “But what am I expected to hear?”

Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said again. “It’s different every time.”

Edward rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. “Where do I sit?”

Jamie motioned to the far side of the table. “There,” he said. Edward moved over to the far side of the table and sank down gracefully. Jamie grinned at him, then sat down across from him. “I’ll take the mystic rituals out, shall I?” he asked. “To be perfectly honest, that part gets a bit boring.”

“You do that,” Edward agreed. “But how are you supposed to be finding out my future? I don’t see any cards or anything.”

“I told you, I don’t read cards,” Jamie said scornfully. “I look into crystal balls. Or at least, into a crystal ball.”

“So where is it?” Edward demanded, scanning the room yet again.

“You’ll see,” Jamie promised once again. He reached behind him and flipped open the hidden cabinet. His crystal ball was resting inside, carefully protected from curious visitors. Edward started violently at the appearance of the door, then narrowed his eyes. Jamie gently removed the crystal ball and placed it on the table, closing the cabinet as he did so. The door blended back into the background, completely invisible to anyone who didn’t have a very good idea of where it was. Edward was frowning at the spot where it had been, and Jamie allowed himself a small, secretive smile. He was having fun.

“What are you going to do now?” Edward asked, tearing his attention away from the mystery of the vanishing cabinet.

Jamie winked. “You’ll see,” he repeated. “Now, don’t talk anymore. I need to concentrate.”
He didn’t wait for Edward’s nod, only sank into the trance that he’d almost achieved earlier in the park. He fixed his eyes on the orb, letting the images that it had to show him rush through his mind. The important ones clung to his unconscious mind, hooking on the invisible tethers in his consciousness. He began to speak, his mouth talking of its own accord, as it always did. His entire conscious brain was focused on the images that flooded his brain.

He saw blood and scars. He saw tears and sorrow. He saw clouds and laughter. He saw pain, and he saw joy. There was strife in the mêlée, and great peace. He saw himself, and he saw an older woman with brown eyes. He saw a wooden door, covered in old scars, and the bloody blade of a knife. He felt the pain sear through him as the knife sliced through his flesh, and he felt the tears coursing through him at the levels of pain and joy that he felt.
And then, he saw his own demons come through the portal. He saw Him, Oliver, bending over him and smiling cruelly. Jamie fought to end the session, fought to return to himself and leave the half-world that he was inhabiting.

“You know you like it,” Oliver said, bending over cruelly, blade in hand. Jamie felt himself recoil, or maybe it was still Edward. Maybe Oliver was hurting Edward now, not him.
The thought gave him the strength to fight back. He wrenched himself out of the hold of the images, gasping for breath. He could taste the salt of the tears that were running down his cheeks, and he knew that they wouldn’t stop for a long while. He was a fool! He’d been warned that accessing the spirits while in the throws of deep emotion would be traumatic, but he’d never imagined anything like this! He should have, of course. What better way to traumatize him than to make him believe that his former love was hurting his current one?
“Jamie?” The current love in question spoke in almost a whisper, tentatively trying to bring Jamie back to the real world. “Jamie, what happened?”

Jamie shook his head hard, trying to banish the images that his memory was supplying in great detail. “I told you it would be hard,” he murmured, not answering Edward’s real question. He refused to meet Edward’s eyes as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry. I… I never thought that it would be like that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have realized it before, you couldn’t have known.”

“It’s still my fault,” Edward insisted. “I made you do it.”

Jamie finally looked up at him. “Edward,” he said, suddenly inordinately tired. “It’s not your fault. You don’t believe in it, and I do. I should have remembered my training.”

Edward looked at him without answering for a long moment. Jamie wished that he would leave, wished that he would let Jamie be alone with his pain once again.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Jamie didn’t even bother wondering how Edward could read his thoughts. In this place, so recently a portal for spirits, anything was possible. He nodded. Edward stood awkwardly, looking down at Jamie’s still form. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again.

“Just go,” Jamie said harshly. Edward left, leaving Jamie alone with his memories. He put the Orb away, then curled into a ball on his floor and allowed the tears through.

Ahh, yes. I think this is where I left off so...YAY NEW CHAPTERS. *dances* I love your writing, especially the fact that Jamie is an oracle. It's just not something you usually see in books.

is it? i can't remember. *shrug* glad you like the oracle. it kind of popped randomly into my head one day and refused to leave. and now for more story...
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Chapter four: There’s blood in the palm of my hand…

The doorbell of Jamie’s apartment rang, startling Jamie out of a dazed reverie. He got up slowly, wincing at the pain the prickled through his bad leg. It had been hurting almost incessantly lately, a sure sign of emotional stress.

‘Damn right I’m under emotional stress,’ he thought bitterly as he moved to open the door. ‘I don’t need scars to tell me that.’ He hadn’t heard from Edward since the little episode in the temple, and he was just about desperate enough to call the other man and ask when (or if) he was going to come back. Only his pride kept him from picking up the phone and dialing the number so well known yet never used.

He pulled open his door, and stared in disbelief. Yet again, it seemed as though fate had read his mind. For the second time in a month, Edward was standing outside Jamie’s door. This time, though, he clutched a battered suitcase. His dark eyes were haunted by recent tragedy, and the way he clung to the suitcase told Jamie all he needed to know. Hadn’t he been through exactly the same himself?

Edward stumbled into the room, dripping water from the pouring rain onto Jamie’s floor. Jamie didn’t care. Edward was more important than his floor, after all. Edward stood just inside the door, looking around with small, furtive motions. Jamie waved to the couch. “You can sit down if you want.” Edward moved jerkily over to the sofa and sat, still clinging to the suitcase. Jamie sat next to him, wondering just what he was going to do. When he’d been kicked out of his own home, he’d crashed with Anne until he could afford a place of his own. She’d been wonderful, not pressing him for details, just allowing him to exist in his little world. When he’d shown signs of returning to normality, she gently prodded him in that direction, still without asking any questions. Jamie suddenly realized that he never had told Anne exactly what had happened. He supposed that she had guessed the gist of it, but she didn’t know the details.

That was Anne, though. Jamie was far more curious by nature, and he couldn’t imagine allowing Edward to live with him and not knowing what had happened. Not that he would turn Edward away, mind you! He just wanted to know.

They spent the next several minutes in an uncomfortable silence. Jamie couldn’t look at Edward any longer, couldn’t stand to see the pain in his eyes. Finally, more to break the silence than anything else, he blurted out, “You can put your stuff in the guest room if you want.”

Edward nodded once and rose, his movements lacking all of his usual grace. He staggered out of the room with what looked to be relief. Jamie watched him go, wondering just how they were both going to cope.

He eventually turned out the lights and went to bed himself. The next morning, he rose before Edward and slipped out of the apartment in the gray morning light. He set off at a steady pace, working the cramps out of his limbs and trying to clear the fog from his head. He needed to think clearly, and the presence of Edward in his home was greatly inhibiting that.

He wanted just to stay out forever, wandering the streets and searching for some manner of peace of mind. But, in the end, he knew that he had to get back. He couldn’t run from his problems forever, and the farther he ran from them, the farther it would be to come back. He had to turn around now.

Edward wasn’t up when Jamie unlocked his door and walked back into the apartment. A glance at the clock showed that it was only eight o’clock, and Jamie knew that Edward liked to sleep late. He had his doubts about whether Edward would get up at all today. He hadn’t left the sanctuary of Anne’s spare bedroom for days after he’d arrived, and he doubted that Edward was feeling much different.

The day passed slowly. As Jamie had suspected, Edward didn’t leave the room that Jamie had given him. Every so often, Jamie would pause in front of the door, trying to work up enough courage to go inside, but he always continued down the hall. He never had been brave before, and he wasn’t any braver now. He left Edward to his own devices.

He woke up with a jolt in the middle of the night. He slipped out of bed and out of his room, his entire being imbued with a strong sense of something. He needed to see Edward. Something was telling him, using the same access portal as the spirits did, that he needed to see the other man. He didn’t pause to question it, only obeyed with the instinctive obedience that stemmed from years of being told what to do. There were times to fight such tendencies; this was not one of them.

He pushed open Edward’s door, slightly surprised that it was unlocked. Then he remembered that the lock on the door was broken. It wasn’t an invitation after all; it was just a chance happening. He didn’t care. It was lucky for him, and he wasn’t in the mood to question gifts.

Edward was curled up in a corner, his back to the door. The moonlight that streamed through the window just missed him, encasing him in a prison of darkness bordered by moat of light. Jamie stepped through the light, sending his shadow to build a bridge of darkness across the moat. Edward didn’t notice his entrance into the room, so wrapped up was he with his own pain and fear.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered softly, crossing the light and emerging once again into darkness.
Edward turned to look at him, his dark eyes full of pain. He didn’t answer, and Jamie dropped down next to him. He examined Edward with the light from the moat, seeing the wetly glistening tearstains on Edward’s cheeks. Jamie’s eyes traveled farther down Edward’s form, noting the scars that adorned his arms. There were many more of them now, most glimmering a jewel-like red. There was a fine trickle of blood running down Edward’s arm, dropping into his open palm. It formed a pool of blood and tears, and dribbled off his hand and down to stain Jamie’s carpet. Jamie didn’t even notice.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Jamie asked, hardly daring to voice the question but needing to know the answer.

“What do you think?” Edward croaked. His voice was blurred with the tears and the pain.

“I’d rather you tell me.”

Edward began to shake slightly as Jamie’s words tore through barely formed scars. Jamie reached across the gap and took Edward in his arms. Edward didn’t respond to the embrace, but he didn’t pull away from it either. He simply sat, completely unresponsive as Jamie gently took the red stained blade out of his hand. He set it aside, vowing to destroy it at the first possible opportunity, and then turned his full attention to Edward’s face. He tried to judge Edward’s level of distress, but the darkness prevented him from seeing properly into Edward’s eyes. They were what truly showed you how someone was feeling, and Jamie felt oddly bereft without them.

Edward didn’t speak for a long moment, letting Jamie hold him while he trembled. Finally, he whispered, “They told me to leave.”

“Who?”

“My family.” The words were a half strangled sob, and the tears that had been squeezing out of his eyes erupted with a gasp. Jamie gathered him closer, stroking his hair as Edward let out the pain of rejection. While he held Edward, Jamie was thrown back to the moment when his own family disowned him. He could just picture his father’s expression, dark and terrible, as he loomed over Jamie’s black hair. Those gray eyes, so like Jamie’s own, snapping with fury and, worse, guilt. It was the guilt that hurt, the guilt that he had produced a son like Jamie. He wondered if Edward had endured a similar confrontation. But, of course, Edward hadn’t had Oliver to deal with at the same time.

Jamie was so absorbed in his own memories that he almost missed Edward’s words. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jamie blinked, his eyes focusing on what was in front of him once more. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

Edward shook his head. “You can if you want to.” There was a deadness in his voice, almost as though he expected Jamie to get up and leave.

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to leave?”

Edward looked through him. Jamie wondered just what he saw. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Jamie said firmly. “Answer, please.”

“No. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to stay,” Jamie said fiercely. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Edward nodded, not pursuing the point. “She said she never wanted to see me again, you know.”

“Your mother?”

Edward nodded again.

Jamie wanted to tell him that it would be okay, wanted to tell him that his mother would eventually go back to him, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to lie to Edward, and that would be a lie. Jamie knew that well enough. Instead, he murmured, “You can stay here with me, I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Of course!” Jamie said fiercely. “You don’t even have to ask!”

Edward looked at him, his shadowed eyes still broadcasting bitterness. “And the baggage?”

Jamie forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. “It’s not like it’s any different from mine, you know.”

Edward stared at him through the mask of salt water. “You?” he whispered.

Jamie nodded. “Me,” he agreed, fighting to keep his voice level.

“When?”

“A couple years ago.”

“Why?”

Jamie’s laugh was as bitter as Edward’s eyes. “Why do you think? Everything I am goes against the norm of a respectable catholic fanatic.”

“Conservatives,” Edward responded. “Same idea.”

“Ugly, was it?”

“You have no idea.” Edward was making an effort to pull himself back together. Jamie loosened his grip, though he didn’t let go completely. Ha couldn’t bring himself to completely let go, but he relaxed his arms enough to allow Edward room to breath.

Gradually, the tides of raw emotion receded and they became more and more capable of rational thought. Edward pulled away from Jamie and went back to his corner. “You don’t have to stay,” he repeated. “I promise I won’t hurt myself anymore.”

Jamie sighed. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked again.

Edward bit his lip. Finally, he shook his head. “No,” he admitted.

“Then I won’t.”

Edward suddenly shivered violently. Jamie looked at him, realizing with a start that he was dressed in nothing more than a pair of jeans and a tanktop. Of course. His arms had to be bare so that he could make the cuts.

“Gods, Edward! It’s freezing in here!”

“I’m not cold,” Edward insisted.

“Well I am,” Jamie said. He looked around the room for a blanket. Thankfully, there was one in reach, and he grabbed it. Briskly, he wrapped it around Edward, tucking the ends in firmly.

“It doesn’t reach you,” Edward protested.

“There’s another one around here somewhere,” Jamie assured him, scanning the room with sliver-gray eyes.

“This one’s big enough,” Edward said. He reached out and took Jamie’s hand, pulling him into the cocoon. Jamie scooted closer despite his resolve to give Edward space, and Edward’s arms finally came around him, bringing him closer again. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

Jamie didn’t answer him, only rested his head against Edward’s collarbone. Edward moved his hands up to stroke his hair. Jamie tilted his head to kiss Edward’s lips, giving his love all the answer that was required.

Wait, no, I read this too. I believe the last chapter I got was the one after this one, then. I cannot wait. Even though the setting is so melancholy, there is just so much hope in the last line, it keeps me going until the next update. Edward/Jamie FTW. I love them lots. <333

did you? oh. well, then you'll have read this one too, probably:
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Chapter five: As you close you eyes, you know I’ll be thinking of you…

“So what exactly happened between you and your family?” Edward asked casually. Jamie winced. Edward had been living with him for the past several days, and Jamie had been waiting for that. He wished that he were strong enough to reveal it all, wished that he were strong enough to talk about it, but he couldn’t. So he’d been preparing lies.

“I fell in love with someone,” he said dismissively. “Another guy. It didn’t sit well with my old man.”

Edward raised his eyebrows. “You told them?” he asked.

Jamie sighed. “Yes, I told them. It was years ago, give it a rest.”

Edward’s eyebrows lifted higher up his face. “Touchy about it, are you?”

Jamie suddenly slammed his fork down onto the table. “Damn right I am!” he shouted. “What am I, your personal emotional punching bag? Why can you grill me about my life but heaven forbid I ask you about yours?”

Edward’s face closed. “Jamie, I told you all you need to know.”

“You told me just as much as I told you,” Jamie shot back. “Why does it have to be enough for me but not for you?”

“I assumed that you would have built up scars over time,” Edward said coldly. “Apparently I was wrong.”

“You were,” Jamie said stiffly. He stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Edward sitting at the table, holding his fork over a forgotten plate of pasta. Jamie didn’t look back as he stormed out.

He closeted himself in his room, locking the door behind him. Why had he done that? He’d been expecting it; he’d even had his lies prepared. So why had he just completely blow up?
It was the dreams. He punched his pillow in fury. Why did he keep dreaming about it? There was no point in dwelling on what had been, and yet his subconscious was choosing to punish him yet again. This was why he’d never let himself get into another relationship, why he’d built up the walls that encased the pain but wouldn’t let it heal. He was afraid. He was afraid to face his past, but he was afraid to let it go. Not all the memories were bad ones, after all, and he didn’t want to let go of the tiny drops of joy that shone through every so often.

He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes. Images flickered across his eyes, images that detailed his previous life, the life before Edward and before his personal version of Hell. He saw his sister, as happy and bubbly and full of light as he remembered, walking through a field. He remembered that field. He’d run after her, fighting to keep up with her longer strides. She’d turned back and smiled at him, beckoning for him to hurry up. He raced over to her side, and they stood together, the wind making her frilly skirt ripple around her body, watching as the last eddies of sunshine disappeared from the sky. He looked up at her when she didn’t realize it, and her face was ethereally beautiful in that single instant. He felt his breath leave his body as he looked at her, wondering just who she was and what she’d done with his sister. And then they both blinked at the same time and the moment was lost. She’d gone back to being plain old Estelle, just a bit too tall, just a bit too round, just a bit too plain. The creature who had inhabited her was gone, never to return.

Jamie’s thoughts flash-forwarded to the time just after his family betrayed him. He was living with Anne during the day and sleeping with Oliver at night. He’d thought that he was happy, thought that he had a network of friends just as good as a family. But they hadn’t been. They’d been the same. Anne was wonderful, but she wouldn’t prompt. She couldn’t see that he was being eaten inside, or if she did, she didn’t offer the chance to help him expel the demons. He supposed that she would have listened if he’d started to talk, but she never asked him. It would have been so much better if she had.

And Oliver. Oliver had been the worst of all. He wasn’t as good as family, he was as bad as them. He’d used Jamie just as much as his father ever had, sucking him dry of any feeling but pain and then rejecting him.

But Jamie hadn’t known that, at the time. He’d been almost happy during those scant few weeks, almost happy in a way he never was afterwards. Until Edward. With Edward, Jamie had been happy again. He’d allowed himself to open up to another person, and it was going bad again. He was a fool.

He and Edward didn’t mention the incident again, but Jamie could feel the tension between them. It would break soon, and when it did, one of them was going to be hurt again. Jamie suspected that he was going to be the one to be hurt yet again, and he was not looking forward to it.

They existed in an uneasy truce for several weeks. Jamie fluctuated between being overjoyed that Edward was living with him, and terrified that he would have to relive his past. Already Edward had inadvertently brought the nightmares back, though only sporadically, thank the Gods. Jamie knew his love well enough to know that Edward, like he himself, wouldn’t rest until he had the entire truth, and he knew that a full confession of his past would almost certainly lead to a full break down. Edward might be able to sob into Jamie’s arms and confess to it all, but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to tear down the walls that he’d created to shield himself. He wasn’t strong enough to go through that again.
It was clear that Edward too was getting more and more frustrated. He began closing himself off from Jamie, forcing the black-haired man to induce conversation if he wanted it. He didn’t, much. It got to the point where they would actively steer clear of each other just to avoid having to see the pain and frustration that would inevitably spring up between them.

“Jamie?” Edward asked finally.

Jamie looked up in surprise. “Yes?”

“This isn’t working, is it?”

Jamie sighed. “No. It’s not,” he agreed dully. He knew where this was going. Edward was going to leave. He couldn’t bring himself to completely believe that that was a bad thing. Seeing Edward less than every day couldn’t be a bad thing at this point, after all.

“How can we change that?”

Jamie shrugged listlessly. “You know what I’m going to say,” he said flatly.

Edward’s dark eyes snapped with frustration and anger. “Dammit Jamie!” he exploded. “You can’t just hide between walls of lies, you know.”

“Why not?” Jamie demanded. “Lies don’t hurt.” He winced. He wanted to take those words back, wanted to take back the admittance of guilt and of weakness.

“Don’t they?” Edward asked sadly. “They’re hurting us.”

“No. What’s hurting us is your stubbornness,” Jamie said. “If you would let it rest, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You think I don’t know what it’s like?” Edward snapped. “I went through exactly the same thing, remember?”

“No you didn’t,” Jamie said coldly. “You think the pain you went through is anything like mine?”

Edward’s eyes darkened to an almost coal black. “Don’t think you’re so special,” he seethed. “What makes you think that your experiences are somehow worse than mine? What makes your evictment any worse than mine?”

Jamie looked at him, coming as close to actually hating Edward as he was capable. “You had someone to go to,” he said icily. “You were evicted for a decent person, at least.”

“I was evicted for you!” Edward shouted. “You think well of yourself, don’t you?”

“Haven’t I given you everything you wanted?” Jamie demanded. “Love, support, food, shelter, a shoulder to cry on? What makes you think that I had that?”

“You didn’t give me the truth,” Edward said darkly. “I would happily give up all the rest just to know.”

“Tough,” Jamie spat. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?” Edward asked softly. His voice was full of pain, and it melted some of Jamie’s anger. Or at least, it melted in enough for him to feel sorry for what he was about to say.

“Because I don’t want to go through it again.” He couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his lips. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to. After all, maybe they had to be said. Hadn’t he been wondering if he could just break down and tell Edward everything? He had to say those words, had to reaffirm that he wasn’t going to talk.

“You need to move on,” Edward told him gently.

“I have,” Jamie said shortly.

“Have you?”

“Yes. That’s why I don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”

Edward sighed, then stood. “Jamie, you and I know that we can’t keep going like this. I hate this, you don’t even know how much I hate it, but I have to give you a choice. Tell me, tell me all of it, or tell me to leave. I can’t stay here in this limbo any more.”

Jamie looked at Edward, his soul teetering on the verge of tears. He didn’t cry in front of other people, not anymore, and he controlled the urge. He couldn’t stop the tremble that crept into his voice as he spoke, and he clenched his fists, using the physical pain to distract him from the mental turmoil. “I can’t,” he said. “Don’t you see that? I can’t talk about it.”

Edward’s face was incredibly sad as he regarded Jamie. “I’ll start packing,” he said. He turned slowly and walked out of the room, leaving Jamie more completely and utterly alone than he had ever been.

LOVE IT !!!

thank you.

Chapter six: I never though I’d need you there when I cried…

Jamie looked at his cell phone yet again. He reached out and picked it up, dialing the number that he’d never actually finished. He got farther than he ever had before, but in the end he had to put the receiver down. He looked at the number scrawled in the handwriting that had once been as familiar as his own. 303-755-1294. His fingers could find the numbers in any light, in any situation, but he’d never had the courage to let the phone ring. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to talk to him, knew that he would embarrass himself or that Edward wouldn’t want to talk to him. And why should he? Jamie had treated him foully when they lived together, after all. What incentive was there for Edward to come back to him?

“You’re worrying about something,” Jareth proclaimed, looking at him closely.

Jamie looked up from the Orb, irritated. “However did you guess, genius?” he demanded sarcastically.

Jareth sank down on the other side of the table, surveying him critically. “Jamie, stop it. You’ve lost more weight than you can afford, you’ve got dark shadows under your eyes, and there’s times when I know you’re not listening to a word I’m saying. What is it?”

“Nothing!” Jamie said angrily. “Why do people keep trying to fix me? There’s nothing wrong!”

Jareth simply raised his eyebrows. “I never said there was,” he commented mildly. “But the preoccupation is interfering with your perception of the spirits. You’re making more and more of it up, aren’t you?”

Jamie started to deny it, but Jareth stopped him. “I don’t care,” he said flatly. “Most people think you do anyway. I’m just concerned that you’ll permanently kill your connection to them.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Jamie said bitterly. “All they have to say seems to be about pain and fear.”

“That’s all you’re looking for,” Jareth said severely. “If you would open your mind, you would see joy again.”

“What if there isn’t any?”

Jareth looked at Jamie closely once again, then leaned back. His dark face assumed a half-understanding, half-wistful look. “Talk to him,” he advised. “You won’t regret it.”

“How do you know what I’ll regret and what I won’t?” Jamie demanded.

“You think I haven’t been there?” Jareth asked. He stood. “Everyone’s been in the same boat as you, Jamie. Some get back off, and some stay on. I stayed, and I’ve always regretted it. Take the advise of a former student and talk to him before it’s too late.”

Jamie glared at him. “I don’t need your help,” he said darkly.

Jareth shrugged. He glanced around the room again, then smiled at Jamie and left, making the beads that formed the door jingle and bounce as he did so.

Though outwardly Jamie completely disregarded Jareth’s advice, his mind was, yet again, in turmoil. Was it possible to repair the damage done by angry words and impetuous decisions? He hoped that it was, and he was afraid that it wasn’t.

Still, he would never know if he didn’t try. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life in fear? Of course he didn’t. But could he avoid it? Was he strong enough to break the cycle of fear? How was he supposed to know? He’d never tried.

It was the nightmares that drove him back to the phone. They came sporadically, glimpses of pain and anger, a shadowed face and a knife, agony and bliss masquerading as each other. He took painkillers to dull the agony of the pain, and anti-depressants to stay sane. But he was smart enough to realize that he couldn’t go on like this. He’d seen the effects of drugs, had seen the addicts coughing up their last breaths. He had no desire to end like that, and he knew of only one antidote: Edward.

His hands trembled violently as he picked up the phone and dialed the number yet again. He had to force himself to hold it to his ear as it rang, had to make himself open his mouth and respond to Edward’s bleary greeting.

“Jamie?” Edward asked, the weariness still evident in his voice. “Jamie, what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m so sorry,” Jamie whispered. The words were hard to get out. They conflicted with his pride, and he wanted to take them back. He couldn’t, though, and they were the truth. The truth was always more painful than lies, though.

There was a long silence on the other end. Then, Edward asked hesitantly, “Are you all right?”

“What do you mean?”

Jamie could just picture Edward rolling his eyes to the sky. “Jamie, you call me up in the middle of the night to apologize for words that were said months ago. Your voice is trembling, and you don’t sound like you. What’s wrong?”

Jamie sighed. “If I tell you that I had a midnight revelation, would you believe me?”

“Depends on the revelation,” Edward said warily.

Jamie sighed again. “Look, can you come over? I hate talking over the phone.”

There was another long silence, and then Edward said, “Jamie, it’s four in the morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now.”

“I’ll come,” Edward protested. “But do you realize how insane this is?”

Jamie shrugged. “That’s life. I’ll unlock the door.”

“Thanks.” Edward hung up the phone. Jamie stood in the middle of his living room, the cordless receiver in his hands, wondering what in hell he’d just started up again.

Edward opened the door fifteen minutes later. He closed it behind him and looked at Jamie thoroughly. He frowned. Jamie wasn’t surprised. He’d been told by many people, both friends and strangers, that he didn’t look well. He wasn’t well, though it was neither anorexia nor diabetes. If he’d had to diagnose himself, he would have said it was a mix of depression and insomnia. He had been having more than enough of both, after all.

“Gods, Jamie,” Edward whispered. “Are you still going to claim that you’re fine?”

Jamie shrugged. “I’m not dead yet.”

“That doesn’t count.”

The conversation died out after that, as Jamie refused to answer and Edward looked too uncomfortable to press him. Each of them examined the other closely, each trying to find out just how much had changed. Edward too was thinner, and there were shadows under his eyes. Jamie supposed that it was a byproduct of being yanked out of his bed at four in the morning to go and comfort his ex-boyfriend.

Suddenly, he said, “Let’s go out.”

Edward blinked. “Excuse me?” he asked skeptically.

“Let’s go out. We can’t talk in here; it’s too full of bad memories.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Jamie shrugged. “The churchyard,” he suggested.

“The churchyard?! I thought you said you didn’t believe in religion.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why there?”

“It should be empty.”

Edward threw his hands up into the air. “All right. We’ll go to the churchyard.”

They walked in silence. The April air was cool on Jamie’s pale skin, and the moonlight gave his skin an almost transparent look. It had the opposite effect on Edward. The light seemed to avoid him, seemed to merely enhance his natural darkness. They were opposites, dark and light, ying and yang. Jamie wondered just why he’d ever though that they could have a chance together.

Edward slipped the latch off the gate and they walked in. Jamie made his way over to a bleak statue of Jesus, wondering idly why a savior of mankind was represented by such a dreary statue. Or maybe it was just the light of the moon.

“Are you ready to tell me why you called me yet?” Edward asked, walking over to join Jamie.

Jamie felt odd, as though someone else inhabited his body. He was alone with Edward in a churchyard. No one could possibly see them. He grinned and tagged Edward lightly on the shoulder. “You’re it,” he said, running away as fast as he was able.

Edward starred at him in disbelief. “You’re drunk,” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m not drunk,” Jamie assured him. “I’m happy for the first time in ages. Aren’t you going to chase me?”

Edward shook his head, obviously not believing him. He started running anyway, catching Jamie easily. “What is this all about, anyway?”

“We’re playing tag,” Jamie said. “Don’t you know how to play?”

“I know how to play,” Edward assured him. “But why are we playing tag?”

Jamie grinned even more widely. “Why not?” he shouted, darting away again. “I haven’t played in years.”

Edward caught up with him again and, shrugging, tapped him. “You’re it,” he said. Jamie scowled and tried to catch up with Edward’s longer stride. He couldn’t match the other man’s grace, and as Edward stopped to look back, Jamie was suddenly slammed with an image of his sister. She had always done that. He felt his buoyant joy evaporate and a deep despair fill him instead. He crumpled to the ground, shaking violently as the despair overwhelmed him.

Edward was by his side in a moment. He gathered Jamie up, scooting back so that his back reclined against the base of the ugly statue. “Damn it,” he said as he arranged Jamie next to him. “I knew you were drunk.”

Jamie didn’t answer. Let Edward think him drunk if he wanted to. It didn’t make any difference.

“Jamie? What is it?” Edward’s voice was soft and soothing, and to Jamie’s deranged mind, it sounded exactly like Estelle’s. His shaking increased, and Edward pulled him in tighter, rhythmically stroking his hair and rocking back and forth. “Sh,” he murmured. “Sh, baby, I’m here. It’ll be all right, I’m here with you.”

“Don’t leave,” Jamie murmured back.

“I won’t,” Edward promised. He continued to rock Jamie back and forth, murmuring soothing nonsensical syllables into Jamie’s hair. Finally, Jamie took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’ll help if you talk, I promise. I know you don’t want to, but you need to bleed the poison out,” Edward said.

Jamie let out a miserable hiccup, then sighed. “I know,” he whispered. “But it hurts. Oh Gods Edward! It hurts so damn much!”

“I know,” Edward said.

Yes, of course he did. Edward knew exactly what it was like. Hadn’t he gone through the same things himself?

“What happened?” Edward whispered again. The tender concern in his voice broke through the last of Jamie’s barriers, and the tears that he had been holding back for months erupted through. The words left his lips, haltingly at first, then faster and faster as the words so long unsaid fought for dominance. He told of meeting Oliver and of loving him. He told of telling his family and being disinherited. He spoke of despair and of love, and of the despair that comes from love. He told of the moment when he realized just what Oliver was doing to him, the moment when he learned just how cruel the world could truly be. Through it all, Edward held him, soothing him without words, providing a shoulder to cry into. Finally, Jamie ran out of words and he fell silent, his breath coming in ragged hiccups and gasps.

“I… I had no idea,” Edward murmured finally. The moonlight seemed to have gotten over its aversion to him, and he was bathed in light, throwing his shadow over Jamie. “Oh, Jamie.”

Jamie tried to pull himself back together. He blinked and wiped the water out of his eyes. “No, you’re right. I had to talk about it.”

They sat in silence for a while until the moon began to fade. Edward glanced at his watch. “Jamie, we’ve been here almost three hours. How about we go back to your place and get something to eat?”

Jamie looked at him, his eyes still faintly misty. In the pre-dawn light, Edward looked covered in shadows once more, as though the momentary moonlight had retreated from his body. But he was real. He was here and he was holding Jamie. “I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed. They looked at each other, and Jamie had one of those moments of perfect understanding. Edward was coming back, and everything would be all right again.

Chapter seven: How beautiful you are….

Jamie was in heaven. Edward was back, and everything would be fine again. After the moonlight revelations, their easy camaraderie had returned. They spent as much time together as they could and, though neither of them admitted it, they started to face down their own demons. Edward gradually spoke more and more about his family, though he didn’t mention his falling out with them. Jamie didn’t press him. He was happy to have Edward back with him, and he didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship again.

Both knew that, eventually, the demons would have to come out in the open. There was only so much healing that could happen behind closed doors. Soon enough, they would have to actively talk about it. Preferably over something with a high alcohol content.

Jareth didn’t mention their conversation again, but when Jamie came into work the next day, exhausted and completely unfocused, Jareth took one look at his face and nodded knowingly. Jamie scowled at him and muttered an obscenity, and the matter was dropped. Jamie wouldn’t give Jareth the satisfaction of knowing that he’d been right, and Jareth seemed content to let the matter rest. If only it were as simple with other problems.

“It’s been six months since I… left,” Edward said one day.

“Three years,” Jamie answered. “As of February.”

Edward sighed heavily. “I’ve been trying not to think about it,” he admitted. “But it came back to me this morning.”

Jamie nodded. “It’ll do that,” he said sadly. “You can’t really ever lose the pain.”

“But it dulls?”

Jamie shrugged. “If you let it.”

“You didn’t.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.”

Edward sighed again. “I… I don’t want to go through that,” he said softly. “I know how much you suffered, and I don’t think I’d be strong enough.”

Jamie snorted. “You’re stronger than I am,” he pointed out. “And I survived.”

Edward shook his head. “Baby, you’re stronger than you think.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Will you stop calling me that?”

Edward smiled in an exceedingly sexy way. “Why? You know you like it!”

Jamie sighed. He had yet to win this argument, and he didn’t have the will to try now. “Not in public,” he said yet again.

Edward shook his head. “Of course not!” he assured Jamie. “But we’re not in public.”

Jamie gave up. “Fine. But you’re still wrong.”

“No I’m not. You don’t have any perspective on yourself.”

“You’re just an optimist. You see the best in everyone, that’s all.”

“No,” Edward retorted. “I just see the best in you.”

Jamie laughed. “I don’t deserve you,” he observed, a little sadly.

“Of course you do!” Edward said. “Who else would go with you to the churchyard at four in the morning?”

Jamie snorted. “No one,” he agreed.

There was a moment of silence as they both remembered just why they’d been in that churchyard in the first place. Then, Edward asked softly, “Jamie?”

Jamie looked up, his eyes meeting Edward’s. “Yes?”

“Have you ever… talked to them again?”

Jamie sighed. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t even know where they live anymore.”

Edward frowned. “They didn’t tell you?”

Jamie snorted. “Edward, I left my house with my father screaming after me that he never wanted to see me again. Do you think that he would pop by to tell me his new address? He’s probably hoping that I won’t ever know. That way, I can’t try to talk to him again.”

Edward grimaced, his face a mask of grief. Jamie suddenly realize just how his little speech must have affected the other man, and he could have kicked himself. How stupid could he be?

“It’s not always like that, though,” Jamie said, trying to wipe the pain out of Edward’s features.

Edward raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” he asked. “Who do you know who’s been disinherited and then talked to their family again?”

Jamie shrugged, knowing that it wouldn’t be good enough. “I don’t know anyone personally,” he admitted. “But it could always happen.”

“Not this time,” Edward said flatly. Jamie didn’t answer. “And… him?” Edward asked hesitantly. “Do you ever talk to him?”

“No!” Jamie said vehemently. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” Edward said, his voice not rising from a whisper. “You could. Some people do.”

“I know,” Jamie said dully. “And I wanted to. But I would see the… scars again, and I would put the phone down.”

Edward frowned. “Scars?” he repeated. “What scars?”

“Didn’t I show you?”

“No. Don’t you remember?”

Jamie smiled crookedly. “I don’t remember much from that night,” he admitted. “I just know that I dragged you out of your house and into a deserted churchyard at four in the morning, then had a psychotic episode and broke down completely. Apart from that, no.”

“Oh. So what is this about scars?”

Jamie’s smile vanished. He sighed heavily. He’d known that it would come to this, eventually, and this time he planned on telling the entire truth. He knew what lies could do, and he didn’t want to kill the little they had built back up. “Come into my room. I’d rather not do this in the open.”

Edward frowned, but followed readily enough. When they’d entered Jamie’s bedroom and Jamie had locked the door behind them, he slowly began to take off his shirt, keeping his back turned. He felt the cool air of the air-conditioning unit brush across the sensitive skin on his chest, and took a deep breath. Then, he turned and faced Edward. He felt Edward’s breath catch in his throat, and he closed his eyes so as not to see the pity in Edward’s face.

Oliver had been… fond of having sex –making love, as he called it– with the help of various edged weapons. After he’d left Oliver, Jamie had spent a long time unable to stand the sight of any kind of blade, not even a pocketknife. He could see them now, could even use them, but seeing Edward with the blood dripping off the blade and onto his bare body had been almost more than he could handle. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t realized, but those nightmares had come back to haunt him later.

“Oh, Baby,” Edward breathed. “I want to kill that bastard.”

Jamie snorted, not opening his eyes. “Go right ahead,” he said dryly. “But I’ve got first dibs.”

“What… what was he doing?”

Jamie shrugged. “He liked it. I thought I did too, for a while.”

Though his eyes were closed, Jamie could tell that Edward was staring wide-eyed at him. “You… you thought you liked it?”

“I thought I loved him,” Jamie said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “I was willing to take any of what he gave out for what I perceived as his love.”

“Look at me,” Edward said softly. Unable to disobey, Jamie opened his eyes. Edward’s face was full of love as he looked at Jamie. “Don’t ever let anyone hurt you again,” he said fiercely. “You don’t deserve it.”

“I won’t,” Jamie said flatly. “I promised myself that. When I left him, I promised myself that I would never let anyone else hurt me again.”

“Good.”

Jamie shivered as the cool air passed him again, and he started to put his shirt back on. “Don’t,” Edward said. “Let me.”

He slowly reached over and drew Jamie into an embrace, his hand playing lightly over Jamie’s chest. Jamie shivered harder. He hadn’t let anyone touch him there, hadn’t let anyone even see them until now. He forced himself to stand still as Edward’s hands explored the raised bumps left by Oliver’s knives. Jamie could feel him getting angry, and he gently drew away. “Edward, it’s not worth it,” he said softly. “It’s over. I won’t let it happen to me again.”

Edward was trembling, and Jamie led him over to the bed. Something stopped him from putting his shirt back on, and he sat down next to Edward, the silvery scar lines still visible.

“How could anyone do that?” Edward whispered. “How could anyone want to hurt you?”

“I don’t know,” Jamie answered quietly. “But he did.”

Edward turned to him suddenly, his dark eyes boring into Jamie’s. “Don’t be ashamed of it,” he said urgently. “You’re still just as beautiful as you were before it happened.”

“How do you know?” Jamie asked. “You didn’t know me back then.”

“I know what you’re like inside,” Edward insisted. “I know what you were like, and you haven’t changed.”

“Haven’t I?” Jamie knew it came out bitter, but he couldn’t help it. “I think I have.”

“You haven’t,” Edward said firmly. “Trust me.”

Jamie sighed. “I want to believe you,” he said dejectedly. “But I know that it’s not true. You can’t emerge unchanged from something like… like that.”

“No,” Edward agreed. “But who you are as a person didn’t change because some son of a bitch told you it should.”

Jamie stared at him. How could he know? How could he have known that Oliver had told him to change, that, for Oliver’s sake, he had. “How… how did you know?” he whispered.

Edward looked at him sadly. “I know,” he said simply.

“You haven’t changed either, you know,” Jamie said, trying to steer the conversation away from him. He didn’t know how they had started talking about his scars, and he hated it. He wanted to get back onto semi-safe ground, the place where he wouldn’t have to bare his soul anymore than he already had.

Edward snorted. “You keep telling me that, and maybe I’ll start to believe,” he said dryly.

“So why are you allowed to change, but not me?” Jamie demanded.

“Because you won’t admit the truth about yourself,” Edward said firmly.

“What are you talking about? I’ve firmly accepted all of my faults.”

Edward smiled. “Exactly. You concentrate on your faults and not on your good points.”

Jamie grimaced. “You sound like one of my old teachers,” he said. “She was all about being nice to yourself and thinking positive, uplifting thoughts. I hated it.”

“It would be good for you,” Edward said. “You always think dark thoughts.”

“So says the man who’s taking counseling for depression,” Jamie said darkly.

Edward sighed. “Damn. I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out about that.”

Jamie looked at him witheringly. “Edward, did you really think I wouldn’t know? your councilor's one of my best friends, you know.”

“I had hoped,” he repeated.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. It’s not desperate, I promise. I’d even started thinking of dropping out.”

Jamie sighed. “Edward, I would be worried anyway. It’s one of those faults of mine that I have embraced. You could have told me.”

“I know,” Edward said. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie sighed. “So am I. It’s your business, really. I just… I was worried.”

Edward reached over and took Jamie’s hand in his. “It is your business,” he insisted. “You have every right to know. I was being stupid.”

Jamie didn’t pursue the matter, letting it rest there. After a long moment, he took a deep breath. What he was going to say would be hard for both of them, but it had to be said. “Edward?”

“Yes?”

“You should… you need to talk to them.”

Edward frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your family. If you don’t… well, it’s like a hole in your soul that doesn’t close. Ever. Trust me.”

Edward scowled. “Jamie, I don’t ever want to see them again.”

“I know. I didn’t either, and I’ve always regretted it.”

“You could go now.”

Jamie grimaced. “It’s been three years,” he pointed out. “I would expect that all of them have moved on by now.”

“And you think my family hasn’t?”

“It hasn’t been as long. Look, you don’t have to. You know I’ll understand if you don’t. This is just advice from someone who once stood in your shoes.”

“I… I’m scared to go,” Edward admitted, dropping his eyes. “I’m afraid that they’ll turn me away.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jamie assured him. “I promise. And you don’t have to.”

Edward took a deep breath and looked up again. “Yes,” he said softly, his voice intense and full of pain. “Yes I do. It hurts, Jamie. You have no idea… no, you probably do, don’t you?”

Jamie nodded.

“Then you know what I have to do.”

Jamie nodded again.

Edward reached out and clenched Jamie’s hand. Jamie returned the pressure. He knew that, though the decision had been made, it would be one of the hardest things Edward had ever done.

“I’ll go with you,” he said again.

“You don’t have to.

“Yes, I do,” Jamie said flatly.

“Thank you,” Edward whispered. Jamie only squeezed his hand harder. There wasn’t really anything else he could do.