Author's Note: This challenge is an experiment that PeggsterLover and I felt the need to explore. We chose three lines of the amazing Korn song "Chaos Lives In Everything" as a prompt and this is what we came up with. Chapter I is my version, chapter II is Peggster's. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: As always, no copyright, no money, just pure fun!

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Sometimes I worry.

Will knows what has startled him into consciousness before he is even fully awake. He is a trained agent after all, aware of his surroundings at all times – even while sound asleep. Besides, it is the fourth night in a row this has happened. He wipes the remnants of sleep from his eyes, wishing he could put an end to this, but he can't. At the end of the day, it is not his fight. Thus, he can only sit and watch and worry.

Benji's features are clearly visible in the light of the street lamp right in front of Will's bedroom window. He never had a problem with its existence, never thought about blinds or shutters. In nights like these, though, he wishes it wasn't there so he would not have to look at his lover's distorted features, caught in a battle only he sees the opponents of.

Will does not dare touch him, for fear of scaring him and making things worse in the process. He can tell. He tried. Neither of them have overcome the memory of that night a few weeks ago, of a broken bedside lamp and red lines of blood. The scars on Benji's skin are visible as well, in the artificial light – violent reminders of a beloved not remembered. They will never fade.

It is not for the first time that he thinks about quitting and leaving everything behind, everything which causes his lover to feel the strong grip of heavy guilt and missed chances almost every time he sinks back into the arms of repose. He does not care about the world, about saving every lost soul out there, for it is their own lost souls he thinks about in the dark of the night, when he watches Benji shudder beneath the covers, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Yet, he knows he cannot stop. They cannot stop. They will go on until they cannot go any further. It is ambition and love which drives them forward in the heat of a mission – the same things that are tearing them apart as soon as silence descends upon them, the rush of adrenaline long gone.

Will curls his fists around the sheets, trying to prevent himself from reaching out and touching his lover. How he wishes he could just pull him into his arms and fight the demons looming over him, side by side. But still, he can only sit and watch and worry. It drives him insane, this feeling of helplessness which is eating away at his heart until there is nothing left but raw love and despair, mingled together beyond recognition. There is nothing he can do but wait.

And so he sits there in the twilight for hours, hands hovering over Benji's shoulders in an endless battle between affection and reason. He watches every movement, listens to every inaudible sigh and mumble that escape his lover, waiting for his chance to do what he is supposed to do. Yet, he is not allowed to decide on the pace – it is all up to his lover now.

When he finally catches the signs of the fight winding down, he prepares himself for what he knows is to come. Benji is drawing in his long limbs one by one, curling up into a position that hurts every time Will has to witness it. It is the epitome of vulnerability, something that can cost your life in their line of work. His lover releases a long and shuddering breath before he opens his eyes. They are sharp and clear, no marks of sleep lurking behind the blue irises. The first time Will has watched it happen, it scared him beyond belief. But he is used to it now, so he just sits there, waiting for Benji to turn around and seek the warmth and security etched into his embrace. He doesn't have to wait for long.

"I'm sorry," Benji whispers against his chest, the words nearly lost in the sound of his rasping voice.

Will knows the words by heart, anyway. Therefore, he opts for saying the only thing he can think of, the only thing that is always at the forefront of his mind after another night spent in agonized silence, sitting, watching and worrying.

"I'm here."

— † —

Sometimes I'm sorry.

"I can't do this anymore."

For a few seconds – precious seconds before the thunderstorm is bound to erupt – Benji looks confused and lost, and then realization darkens his face like a black cloud tinting a cerulean sky. He plants his hands on his hips and opens his mouth to tell Will exactly what he is thinking about his revelation, but the words don't come. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and ignores his lover's attempts to lock eyes with him, staring out of the window instead.

"It's... I can't. I'm out of strength."

Will jumps as Benji suddenly turns and storms out the door, his shoulders tense and his motions angry. He is at a loss for what to do, so he lets his mind wander and analyse the last few minutes, trying to determine what he has done wrong. And with a start, he realizes what Benji must think he has just said to him: 'You can't do this anymore. You're not strong enough and my strength isn't enough for the both of us.' He sinks down onto the couch, hiding his face behind his hands, and lets the guilt consume him.

— † —

Sometimes I just wanna kiss that frown.

Hours later, he is still sitting on the couch, still trying to reign in his emotions which are suffocating him, causing his breath to catch in his throat and his eyes to fill with tears. They had worked so hard to build and protect their relationship – a relationship that had started out strictly professional, yet later evolved into so much more. And with just one sentence, he has crushed it all, burned it to ashes with those few words. He knows that he cannot take them back. He meant everything he said, with an honesty only Benji has earned to receive – and no one else.

Still, he cannot help but feel like he has deliberately thrown away the best thing that has ever happened to him, just because he was not as strong as he had hoped he could be. There is no going back now. His decision is final, no emergency exits included. He will have to deal with the guilt, but he is well acquainted with this feeling; he has felt it for years and years. He can move on.

Shaking his head, he lets out a bitter laugh. No, not this time. There will be no Ethan this time, to tell him that he did nothing wrong, that he did not fail. And if there were, no one would believe it, he himself least of all. He knows he will live. But he won't be alive.

When he hears quiet footsteps approaching the living room, he swears his heart stops beating for a moment, smothered by a wave of restless hope. Someone is standing right in front of him, staring at him. He can feel those eyes burning his skin. He doesn't dare look up, afraid it might be a trick of his mind, a last wave of good-bye before it lunges itself into the abyss of insanity, never to return. He hears the sound of clothes rustling and then warm hands cover his own, pry them away from his face.

"Look at me." The command is soft, pleading and he cannot refuse. He never could.

He opens his eyes and his vision is blurred with the threat of tears. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Benji doesn't give him the chance to do so, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. They breathe the same air for a moment before Benji pulls back just far enough to kiss his hairline, his temple and then his mouth.

Their breathing grows erratic, both of them lost in the desire to just forget, but at the same time, they know that they cannot forget that easily. The life they are leading together is on the brink of something new – it is up to them to decide which path it is to take. It scares them both.

"I'm so sorry." Benji's voice holds the promise of tears, too, and Will stares at him, dumbfounded.

"What? What do you mean you're-"

"No." Benji sits back on his haunches, but raises his hands to cradle his lover's face, never losing contact. "Let me finish, please."

Will cannot hold his gaze. Yet, when he tries to direct his eyes at the floor, Benji's strong hands grip his jaw and keep him locked in place. For another few seconds, they stare into each other's eyes, trying to seek strength there, as well as the promises they never spoke out loud – to protect, to hold on when reality becomes too much to bear, to love without restraints.

"I'm really sorry." Benji clears his throat. "I know you'd never... question my ability to do this. And I thanked you by not trusting you, you and your judgement." He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly searching for the courage to carry on. He draws a deep breath. "Let's quit. Wherever you want to go, I'll be with you. I want you to know that. And I want you to stop feeling guilty. You did the only thing that was right."

Will's eyes widen and his hands come up to cradle Benji's face of their own accord. And then, all of a sudden, a laugh forces its way out of his mouth, rattling his whole body. He lunges forward and clashes their lips together. He doesn't care that he sends them both crashing into the floor. He doesn't care that this is going to bruise. All he does care about is that Benji will not leave him, will not cut the bond between them, will not disappear.

He kisses every inch of skin he can get hold of, laughing until tears are running down his face. Benji is laughing too and they are rolling around on the floor, trying to feel everything at once like there is no tomorrow.

But there is.

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Thank you very much for reading! :)

Have fun with Peggster's awesome version!

Love, RuinNine