Disclaimer: I don't own any recognized characters in this. Paul and Jacob belong to the writers of The Following.
A/N: I had to write this in response to episode 1x09. Even though Paul was a serial killer, may he rest in peace…
Things have gotten so unbelievably fucked up. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He wasn't supposed to kill Paul. They weren't supposed to be abandoned at the farm house.
Jacob sat by the side of the road near the abandoned cabin on the other side of the lake, resting his head on his knees as he sobbed.
"I'm sorry this happened to you, Paul. God, I'm fucking sorry." he whispered, completely indifferent to his cracking voice that made him sound like he was going through puberty.
A truck was driving toward him and he looked up as it slowed. It stopped directly in front of him and he was struck with a memory of Paul.
He had just knocked out that man who stopped to help him, and he stole the truck as Paul climbed into the passenger seat, trying not to get blood all over the place. As he floored the gas, he kept glancing at his wounded buddy every five seconds, making sure he was still alive and breathing.
"You don't need to…keep checking on me, mom." Paul joked through groans of pain.
"Until I get you help, I'm playing the overprotective mom." he replied.
"You know I get all tingly when you take charge." Paul said, turning to look at him with that smile on his face. The one that made him melt a little inside.
He managed to give a small smile before pulling over, suddenly thinking about how they were in this situation in the first place.
"What are you doing?" Paul asked, trying to sit up more. Jacob simultaneously eased him back down and took out his cell phone, calling Emma. It rang a couple times, but it was answered. She didn't say anything for a while, confusing him.
"Emma?" he asked. There was still no response.
"Hello? Emma? Emma, say something, I know that you're there. Emma!" he said, looking at his phone. She didn't hang up, so why wasn't she talking?
"Emma, where are you? You left us? Why did you leave us?" he asked, listening for something, anything on the other end.
"Emma!" he yelled, more in confusion than anger. He slammed his phone shut and turned his attention to Paul as he moaned again. He placed his hands on Paul's, applying more pressure to slow the bleeding.
"Hang on. Hang on. Hey, look at me. Look at me." he said, knowing Paul needed something to focus on to keep him here. "I'm gonna get us some help. Just hang on." he pleaded, staring into his friend's wounded eyes. They showed the same betrayal he was currently feeling.
"Thank you…for not leaving me." he whimpered.
'God, Paul, I could never leave you like this.' he thought. Their hands intertwined, covered in blood. He was going to keep his promise to help Paul Torres survive, no matter the cost.
The memory vanished as a man stepped out of the truck, walking towards him. He looked up, unashamed of the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Are you Jacob?" the man asked. He nodded, slowly standing up.
"I'm Roderick. Where's Paul?" the man asked.
He looked away, back towards the direction of his parents' lake house, where he had left Paul's body on the couch. "He didn't make it. He, uh, shit…Ryan Hardy stabbed him, and he got sepsis, and we couldn't go to a hospital, so I took him here." he stammered, seeing the knife repeatedly plunge into Paul's abdomen before his eyes.
He quickly ran back to the trees, vomiting what little bile remained in his stomach. He wiped his mouth and turned to find the mysterious Roderick watching him with concern.
"Why don't you tell me about it, the stabbing? Ryan Hardy is obviously a bigger challenge than any of us thought." he said. Jacob closed his eyes, seeing the bloody knife fall to the ground as he recovered from the blow to the face he had just received.
He wanted to help Paul, but all Paul cared about was that girl, Megan, who escaped in the chaos. Hardy had run out the back, and where the fuck were Emma and Joey? If they were still here, his friend wouldn't be bleeding like a stuck pig.
He hurried to the front door to go after the girl, but stopped as half a dozen laser dots honed in on him. That effectively halted his progress and he slammed the door shut, cowering on the floor.
This wasn't how it was supposed to play out, dammit!
"We're in trouble." he said, sliding to Paul as blood started getting everywhere. It was on their clothes, their hands, the floor…
"It's okay, you're gonna be okay." he said, trying to ignore the pained moans.
"I can't believe Emma left. Why would she leave?" Paul asked…the million dollar question.
"I don't know, alright, but we gotta get out of here." he said, not wanting to think about the betrayal the two had received. He was completely freaking out; more than the time he had watched Paul kill that girl in the trunk of a car…more than the first time they fucked each other.
The house was suddenly filled with noise as bullets pierced the room, shattering glass and punching holes through plaster. The front door was kicked in and two SWAT guys came in, guns pointed at them. Two more came in from the back.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot, we surrender!" he blurted, raising his hands in the air. More shots were fired and the two men in front of him fell over, dead. He looked back to the SWAT guys in back.
"Roderick sent us! Go out the back! Go, now!" one of them yelled. He grabbed Paul, helping him limp out of that death trap. Where were they gonna go now? How could he possibly get Paul to safety?
He could tell Roderick was sympathizing with him. "I'm sorry my guys didn't get there in time." he said.
Jacob scoffed, facing the fellow follower of Joe Carrol. "It's not you I blame for Paul."
"Emma? I know what she did to you." Roderick tried, tilting his head a little.
"She abandoned us. Paul, he…he never trusted her. I guess I never should have either." he said, sniffing.
"I can take you to her. Should be one hell of a reunion." Roderick said, smiling.
"Yeah…yeah, okay, just give me a minute." he answered.
"Take all the time you need, Jacob. Cops won't come out to this abandoned shack." Roderick said, returning to the truck.
Jacob took a couple steps into the trees, able to see the tip of his parents' lake house's roof. The faint sound of sirens hit his ears, instinctively putting him on alert.
'Guess dear old dad found Paul…' he thought bitterly, looking to his feet.
Today had been one hell of a day: forced to confront his mother, unable to save Paul as he had promised, forced to…to kill him.
He didn't expect his mom to come there while he and Paul were hiding out, but she didn't call the cops on them. She tried to help; after all, she was a nurse. She examined Paul's wound, cleaned it, patched it up, and even talked to him. And what was he doing? He was calling Emma again, for the sixteenth time.
"Who are you calling?" Paul asked from the couch.
"I'm leaving another message for Emma." he replied as the phone continued ringing. She never answered it anymore when he called.
"She's not gonna call you back. Don't you get it, she left us. She left us to die." Paul said coldly.
"At the farm house?" his mom asked
"I never trusted her. She never trusted me either." Paul explained, smiling a little bit. Jacob knew his two lovers pretty much hated each other, but he stupidly chose to be with Emma. Why? Because he didn't
want to accept the fact he had those kinds of feeling towards Paul, no matter how many times he denied it? Was he so blinded by a little homophobia that Emma's psychopathic mind frame was overlooked by him of all people? The guy who used to read the entire synopsis of a movie and look at all the cast members in it before he and Paul would watch it on Friday Night Movie Night, laying in each other's arms?
"I can't trust you." Paul said, drawing his attention. He was weakly trying to push his mother away.
"I can't trust you. I can't trust you." he continued, sounding half-delirious.
He ran forward as his mother moved away. "Hey, hey, easy. Shhh." he cooed, rubbing Paul's arms.
"I'm sorry." he said, apologizing for calling Emma. The smile that formed on Paul's face almost made him forget about their fucked up situation. Almost.
"I'm sorry." he repeated, looking back towards his mother as she left. After Paul calmed down, he left to check on her in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry about that, mom." he said as she was drying her hands, referring to the mild freak-out.
"He's got sepsis, you realize that? If you don't get him to a hospital immediately, he's going to die." she said.
"Can you help him?" he asked, feeling like a boulder was sitting in his stomach.
"He needs a blood transfusion, antibiotics, surgery when he's stable. You need to get him to a hospital." she explained. He knew that wasn't an option, not in this lifetime.
"You should go now, before your father gets here. He's on his way." she added.
'Oh great. Just fucking great. Thanks a lot, mom.' he thought, returning to Paul's side. He gently helped him to drink some water, knowing it wouldn't fix him, but hoping it would help him feel a little better.
"You've got to get him to a hospital, Jacob." his mom repeated, sounding like a broken record.
"You're just waiting until dad comes here and sees me, aren't you?" he asked. He really didn't want to see his dad, especially not now.
"He's going to call the police. Do you want that? You're a murderer!" she said.
"Stop calling me that, mom! I never killed anyone!" he yelled, shocked by his outburst. Paul looked up at him, also concerned.
"Tell her." he said, motioning to her. Paul looked from him, to her, then back to him.
"Go on, tell her the truth." he said. Paul's sickly appearance only amplified his statement: "Jacob's telling the truth. He's never killed anyone."
She had to believe him, right? What kind of person would lie on their death bed?
'He's not going to die. He can't.' his mind corrected.
They still had about half an hour before his dad said he'd be there, and he planned on using every second to try and get Paul help. There had to be another follower nearby who could help. No names came to mind, except Roderick.
He suddenly remembered Emma talking about a secret E-mail account to get in touch with Joe Carrol's second in command. He hurried out of the room, only to return moments later with his mom's laptop.
"You looking up a nice funeral home?" Paul asked.
"I'm e-mailing Roderick. I just hope it goes through." he said, typing away. He explained their situation and location before hitting 'send'
"Now we wait." he said, smiling. There was still hope.
The faint police sirens soon faded away, and he knew that Paul was now really, truly gone. For a split second, he thought he felt a hand caress the back of his neck, the way Paul would always do as they would make out. He thought he was about to get an erection, but the feeling passed.
"I love you, Paul." he said, turning his back on the site of his first kill.
He got in the truck, staring straight ahead as he shut the door. "How long until we get there?" he asked.
"It's about 45 minutes away." Roderick replied.
'Jesus, we weren't even close.' he thought, closing his eyes. "Drive." he said.
Roderick nodded and the truck lurched forward, moving along at a steady pace. He stared out the window, not really seeing the scenery. All he could see was Paul's corpse, his lifeless eyes, staring into him.
As he read the reply from Roderick, he couldn't believe it, smiling ear to ear.
"The e-mail worked! Roderick just sent us an address. He's gonna meet us and take us to the others." he said, laughing.
Paul smiled, too weak to jump for joy.
"Your father's gonna be here in five minutes, you have to leave now." his mom warned, standing in the doorway.
'Time to move.' he thought, moving to help Paul sit up.
"Come on, I'm gonna get you out of here. Come on." he said.
Paul groaned, pushing him away. "No. No."
"We have to go." he said, sitting on the coffee table.
"Go, please." Paul begged. Jacob looked to his mother, who left in tears. He chalked the words up to delirium and again moved to help.
"Come on, my dad's gonna call the police. We need to go." he insisted, the two of them holding on to each other.
"You owe me." Paul said, eyes watering.
"What are you talking about, I'm not just gonna leave you here." he said.
"Just go!" Paul said, desperate.
"I wouldn't do that to you, come on." he said, confused about Paul's actions.
"You owe me." Paul said, still clinging to his shirt.
"What?" he asked.
"You owe me." Paul repeated, staring at him.
They both started crying as the meaning behind his words sunk in.
"Please, I want my life to mean something. That's really all I ever wanted." Paul said.
Jacob froze. He couldn't do this…he couldn't kill Paul!
"It's perfect. It's perfect!" Paul breathed, touching his cheek. "You can do this."
Jacob stood as he grabbed the pillow that had fallen earlier.
"Jacob, thank you. I love you." Paul said, smiling.
"I love you too. Even when I said I didn't." he said, still crying.
He forced the pillow over Paul's face, sobbing uncontrollably.
This was it. This was his first kill. Paul was his first kill.
Paul's hands pressed down onto his, sacrificing himself until the primal instinct for oxygen kicked in and he momentarily struggled against Jacob. He cried harder, feeling the struggles still as one of Paul's hands found his face and lightly cupped his cheek before falling to his side. He removed the pillow, imprinting Paul's features into his memory before one final kiss on the lips. His skin was sweaty, and still warm.
"I'm sorry this happened." he whispered brokenly, planting another kiss on his forehead.
The truck soon stopped at a large mansion. The sight normally would've struck him in awe, but all he could feel right now was hate. She was there.
"Wait by the door. I'll bring her to you." Roderick said, entering the building. As Jacob waited, all he could think about was avenging Paul. He blamed her for having to kill his best friend, his boyfriend.
He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw him…
A/N: I admit, I cried while typing this. Hell, I cried while watching it, too. Hopefully, we'll get some Jacob/Paul flashbacks in future episodes.