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Jamie

The weight of what Jamie was about to do pressed down upon him like a suffocating ocean, and he was crushed beneath its waves.

After all the plans he’d made with Jesse, all their hopes and dreams, their best intentions, it was hard to accept the inevitable truth.

And yet, here he was; scrawling a quick letter on the kitchen table and trying to ignore the lump in his throat, as he got ready to do what had to be done.

Of course the letter didn’t contain everything he wished he could say.

That was the thing about letters; you could write a thousand missives and still not have enough words to express how you truly felt—and Jamie didn’t have enough time for more than half a page.

As it happened, this letter was for Austin; simply a short message thanking him for being such a kind and caring friend, and apologizing for all the trouble his presence had caused—both in the past, and for what was coming.

And even this letter felt as though it could never be enough.

Austin deserved far more.

Which was why Jamie wasn’t even going to try writing a letter to Jesse.

More than anyone else, Jesse deserved to learn the truth in person.

So, after a tense and silent drive home, Jamie had asked Austin to drop them off at their own apartment, given him the keys to ‘let himself in tomorrow,’ and let him and Jesse exchange heartfelt goodbyes before taking Jesse in to rest on the couch as he set about writing the letter.

It wasn’t really a lie; letting Jesse and Austin believe that the plan to take Jesse with him was still in place. It was just… omitting the truth.

And he did feel guilty.

Fuck, he felt so guilty.

But this was for the best. He knew that if he’d told Austin he wasn’t taking Jesse, Austin would have stayed the night to take care of him.

And as much as Jamie loved that generous streak in the man, he needed to be alone with Jesse right now—and after he was done, Jesse wouldn’t need caring for anyway; at least not straight away.

Having the two of them come to their own conclusions, obviously thinking that the fight between Ezra and Eleanore and the subsequent return of Jamie’s memory meant that they were going home to grab their packed bags and would disappear once and for all, well…

It just made Jamie’s task a little bit easier.

Given that it was still the hardest thing Jamie had ever had to do, he felt he was well justified in taking what tiny blessings he could.

He sealed the letter into its envelope and wrote Austin’s name on the front, and then left it there on the kitchen table for him to find the next day.

Now it was time to go back into the living room and face Jesse.

But… Jamie found himself unable to move. The dread was just too much to bear.

Numbly, he pulled out his phone, briefly checking the time before putting it back into his pocket without a second thought.

One hour.

One hour to break Jesse’s heart in the worst way Jamie could’ve ever imagined. How was he supposed to withstand this torture? What had he done to deserve so much pain?

His eyes were watering again. He tried to wipe them dry, but it only made things worse. He didn’t know how he could face this impossible task…

His gaze fell on a swath of fabric draped over one of the kitchen chairs.

Jesse’s hoodie. Unbidden, the memories of wearing Jesse’s clothes before he had got his own returned to him, and on a whim, he took the jacket and shrugged it on.

Just the softness of the cotton against his arms helped to calm him a little, and lifting the hem to breathe in Jesse’s scent filled him with a peace he had never truly known before he had found it with Jesse .

He didn’t want to give that up…

But he had no choice.

God, they’d been so terribly wrong all this time.

Even if it wasn’t for the ancient law he’d broken, it was his very presence that pulled Jesse toward the end—Jamie had realized that by now—and that was something he could never let happen.

The jacket was a small consolation, so he zipped it up, and forced himself to go out into the living room, as ready to say his goodbyes as he could ever be.

The moment he stepped out into the living room, however, he realized time was running out even faster than he’d thought.

Jesse looked like he was dying. He was pale and clammy, his eyes glazed over and his breath coming in short and staggered gasps, while his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his thin shoulders shook from shivering.

Yet even through the great pain, Jesse’s eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Jesse!” Jamie gasped, rushing forward as his heart twisted once again within his chest. “Fuck, why didn’t you call me?!”

“J-Jamie…” Jesse rasped, his voice barely a whisper. “I… c-couldn’t…”

Damn, it was getting worse by the minute! Jamie swallowed down the lump in his throat and—knowing what was to come—decided to place only a small, gentle seal, to alleviate the pain. It was all he could do, for now.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to feel guilt, that Jesse had never wanted him to, but it was difficult to ignore the old familiar feelings, as he pressed his hand on Jesse’s chest and carefully started building up the gentle seal.

This wasn’t his fault; he knew that now.

But how could he ever not feel guilty?

After he was finished, Jesse’s breathing became easier, though he seemed to notice that something was off. He blinked his black eyes open, looking into Jamie’s face in clear confusion. “That… didn’t feel the – the way it usually does,” he said, his tone quiet and still a bit br eathless.

Jamie shook his head. “No, it didn’t. I… I only put a gentle one on, for now.”

Jesse’s confusion only grew. “Why?”

“…Jesse,” Jamie took in a deep breath and sat on the couch.

“We… have to talk.” He could already feel the tears dwell in his eyes once more, and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

He wiped hurriedly at his eyes, forcing himself to speak, despite the words ripping him apart even as they spilled from his mouth.

“I – I have to… Um, see, the thing is, I… I will… We have to… Damn it, I don’t know where to start! ”

Jesse looked up at him, his eyes narrowing a little. He was silent for a moment, but then he took in a deep breath. “How about… I ask you some questions, and you can just answer, to start?”

“…A-alright,” Jamie gave in. “Maybe— Yes, maybe that would be easier.”

Not that ‘easier’ was the same thing as ‘easy,’ though…

* * *

Jesse

Something was very, very wrong.

It had started the moment Jamie had locked him and Austin in that frozen car, and Jesse knew he would never forget the panic he had felt.

Desperately, they had searched the heavy ice for any crack or thin patch that would let them catch a glimpse of what was happening outside—only to find none.

And when they had finally realized what the bright flashes through the blurry ice truly were, the panic had gotten so much worse .

It wasn’t just light.

It was fire.

Jamie was fighting the figure from his dreams.

Eleanore.

Or at least, that’s what the two had thought, until the ice had finally been thawed and Jamie had let them out of the car, just in time for them to see Eleanore—with white hair and blue eyes—leave through something that looked like a portal with the unconscious and suddenly purple-haired Dr. Alevera.

They had asked Jamie what was going on, but he hadn’t answered; instead remaining silent the entire car ride home without ever getting back into his safe form.

Jesse had thought he was just shaken from the fight, or maybe upset because it was time for them to leave.

But now, he wasn’t so sure…

Perhaps the chance to ask questions was a good way to get to the bottom of things after all.

Taking in a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts, he decided upon the first question he felt needed a solid answer. “Who is Eleanore?”

“…She’s my Protector,” Jamie told him. “That’s… sort of like a guard. It’s her job to keep me safe.”

“But you said she was the one who wanted to kill you?”

“I was mistaken,” Jamie told him. “Eleanore is innocent. She swore her life to me decades ago, and has always been faithful.”

The words shocked Jesse so deeply that he had to choke back his surprise as he stared in disbelief. “ D-decades?! ”

Jamie blinked, and then blushed a little, hesitating before he spoke again. “Erm, I… might be a little older than I look…”

Jesse took in a deep breath, shaking his head a bit. “I guess I shouldn’t… really be all that surprised.”

A faint smile flickered across Jamie’s lips, just for a little moment, before it vanished again—followed by an uneasy silence.

Jesse didn’t dare to ask ‘how old are you? ’

Instead, his gaze drifted to the scrapes on Jamie’s cheek, the smear of blood against his skin.

The instinct to reach out, to do something , tugged at him.

But Jamie seemed alright—he was upright and breathing, and didn’t look like he was in any physical pain—so Jesse held back.

And yet, something about Jamie just wasn’t right.

He was too still, too quiet, like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.

But Jesse couldn’t let himself get stuck on this. There were bigger questions.

“So,” Jesse pressed on, “if Eleanore wasn’t the attacker you saw in your nightmares… who was? And where does Dr. Alevera fit in all of this?”

Jamie didn’t respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself. “How much… did you see of the fight?” he asked.

“Basically, nothing,” Jesse told him. “The ice around the car was too solid to make out any more than flashing lights.”