NOTES: Hi, everyone! I'm back from blissful reality with another little scenario to offer, starring our two favorite men. I've been enjoying married life and a new job for the last 7 months, so I'm pretty stoked to get a bit of inspiration from everything happening and to share something new. You have to pardon the rustiness of the writing, and feedback will of course always be appreciated. This is not linked to the TLYS series I wrapped up last April – magic is a hobby, and only to one of them – but I do hope you guys enjoy this still.

For background purposes: I dug up one of the old, old originals I wrote when I was around 12, imagining what the nights leading to college graduation would be like. Needless to say, my reality was not as dramatic, but hey, who knows what stories are out there? For starters, this will be a one-shot of the boys (yes, they're finally getting out of college!). I'm still sitting on the idea of creating a whole new series from this one, but that remains to be seen.

I start off with the usual disclaimers:

You know the drill – for feedback, leave a comment (or two or three) or email me directly at ficamaze .

This is primarily a Lover's Death story. I do not own anyone (i.e., characters, etc) or anything (i.e., lines, scenes, concepts, etc) from the Now You See Me series.

Absolutely no copyright infringement intended.

IMAGINATION

Daniel Atlas didn't exactly wonder why he couldn't sleep: that was pretty much his reality. He didn't even wonder why he chose to leave his apartment at two-thirty in the morning, armed with nothing but a deck of playing cards, to take a seat on one of the now-empty benches in the university park square. It didn't take superb introspection to figure out what was going on in his mind as he gazed blankly at the nearby lights twinkling, and the dull thud of heavy bass filling the air.

"Where to now, Atlas?" he asked himself, toying with two cards in between his fingers.

"That's a pretty good question, man."

Daniel gave a start and turned sharply to his right. In his preoccupation, he hadn't noticed a slight figure seated two benches away from him, holding what looked like an empty bottle of beer, judging by the way his companion handled it loosely. He squinted in the dim light to identify his nocturnal companion.

"Jack?"

"Mmm," the brown-haired man hummed idly. "What brings you out here at this time?"

"I'd ask you the same question," Daniel immediately responded, casting a furtive glance at the bottle in Jack's hand.

Jack glanced quickly at the bottle in his hand, and chuckled as he set it on the garbage bin next to him. "Aww, shit, that's been empty for awhile now, don't worry. I'm not going to take away your virtue," he said cheerfully, brown eyes twinkling as he stared at Daniel. Daniel could feel the heat creeping up his cheeks, and hoped that the light was dim enough for Jack to not notice. "But I did ask first, you know."

Daniel shrugged. "Just thinking about… stuff," he finished lamely.

"Right," Jack said carefully, eyebrows furrowed. He paused for a few seconds, trying to wait for the other man to elaborate, but when no answer came, he sighed and continued. "Well, if you must know, I was over there—" he pointed in the direction of the muffled bass and twinkling lights, "—having a grand old time with wonderful people and enjoying myself to no end. Or so I thought," he finished softly, and – if Daniel was correct – sadly.

Silence filled the air, and Daniel was at war with himself: one part of him wanted to clear his throat, give the other man a polite goodbye, and find a new peaceful place to think, while one part of him wanted to… well, stay, at the very least, with this stranger. Because that was all Jack Wilder was to him: a stranger, a precious one, yes, but a stranger nonetheless. Jack Wilder was the golden boy: the man every boy wanted to be, the man every girl wanted to be with. Jack had it all: he had the campus under his belt, he had the grades on paper, he had all the clubs to go to, he had all the friends and acquaintances who wanted to be with him; he had about nothing in common with Daniel except for the university they had both been confined to for the last four years.

Daniel made a slight movement, scooting over to the right end of his bench, as though it would help close the distance between them. Jack seemed to take notice of this furtive movement, and bit back a smile. He wondered if he understood the unspoken question correctly – what happened? – and decided that he would give an answer, because he hoped to God that the question existed to begin with.

Mirroring Daniel's movement, he moved a couple of inches to his left, to the very end of his own bench.

"It started out okay," Jack admitted. "Even with Lula in the same party, everything was great – we had talked about the break-up a couple of weeks ago, and we said we'd be friends. Best friends."

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You know that doesn't usually work out, right?"

Jack looked at him earnestly, surprised at his candor. "Doesn't it?" he asked.

Daniel shrugged. "From my observations, no."

"Observations?"

"Certainly not experiences," Daniel said shortly. "I'm sorry, I interrupted. Go on."

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, uh, I don't know," he admitted. "I was there dancing and having a good time, and something hit me pretty hard. I think you and I are on the same boat, asking ourselves 'where to now', and I guess shit just got real, because I realized I'm getting to where I'm supposed to be without… well, with not everything I planned for. I suppose this is pre-graduation jitters, but then… yeah."

Daniel sniffed, not looking at Jack, as he processed what the other man said. "You mean – Lula?" he asked carefully, unconsciously moving to the next bench as he lowered his voice. "Or something else?"

"What was it for you, Danny?" Jack rebuffed gently.

"I'm not—" Daniel was about to correct Jack, but the sight of Jack being at the other end of the next bench erased all thoughts from his mind. He wondered why he loathed himself this much, to put himself in this situation with Jack fucking Wilder, the college golden boy he had never known, and never will know now.

The other man tilted his head questioningly, willing Daniel to continue his statement. Daniel felt a lump in his throat as he shrugged. "I suppose one thing is asking what did I really achieve in the last four years except provide some entertainment value during lunch breaks and pass my classes – would that be enough for what will come, something like that," he explained, wondering where he suddenly got the words to articulate his thoughts. "I mean, I'm hardly like you – not at all, in fact. You seem to have everything figured out and put together. Funny that you'd have thoughts about where you'd go from here."

Pulling his leather jacket tighter around himself, Jack chuckled. "Here I was thinking that you were probably the coolest person in campus, always sure of yourself, always speaking and acting so precisely, and I am honestly getting a kick out of the idea that you of all people think I've got it all put together," he said with humor.

Daniel bristled at Jack's response. "I doubt I'm wrong," he said haughtily.

"I'm sure you do," Jack parried easily. "That's Daniel Atlas for you."

Daniel looked over at Jack, surprised that the distance between them had closed further. He wondered if it would be awkward to scoot over to the opposite end of his bench, but before he could even move, Jack looked at him impatiently, stood up, and sat down right next to him, eliminating all possibilities of movement for him.

"We aren't in fucking high school anymore, you know," Jack said composedly, though Daniel thought he felt a shiver run through the other man – or, dear God, was that him?

He closed his blue eyes for a split second, and when he opened them, his companion was looking at him thoughtfully, still smelling slightly of alcohol and a pleasant scent that might be his cologne or aftershave. "You haven't answered my question, by the way," Daniel reminded him, breaking eye contact and putting both his hands in his pockets. Jack seemed to follow his hands out of sight, a fleck of disappointment in his brown eyes as he looked away as well.

"Right. Well, to answer your question – Lula was a part of it, but at the same time, it's not about her. I'm not sure how to explain it," Jack confessed.

"Well, we've got some time. Take your best shot."

Jack pondered on his thoughts for some time, before his eyes lit up in understanding. "From how I see it, she's been there from the start, and vice-versa. So obviously I made a couple of plans in life that involved her somehow. I guess now that she's gone, I had to rethink those plans – figure out if those plans can still make it without her, or if I was just…" his words faded, and Daniel looked at him with a slight smile on his face.

"Or if you were just in love with the idea of being in love with her?"

Jack laughed humorlessly, looking at his companion. "That sucks, but yes, I think so." His gaze softened, lingering on Daniel, who was still looking at the vast expanse of space before them. "Have you ever been?"

"In love with the idea of being in love with someone? Heck, no," Daniel scoffed.

"Have you ever been in love, then?" Jack prodded.

There was a long, long pause, and for a while, Jack was unreasonably afraid that Daniel would stand up and walk away. He wasn't sure why this conversation suddenly mattered to him, and he wondered if it was the glorious finality of (so far) the best years of his life coming to a close that made him want to stay in this moment, that made him want to do some things he wondered if he would regret in the future—

"Yes," Daniel said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't think to ask who it was – he only asked, "What is it like?" in a voice that matched the softness of the answer.

"Hopeless, most of the time," Daniel admitted quietly. "You imagine someone fitting in so perfectly in your life, seeing someone smile and smirk at your craziest magical tricks, maybe sitting together on a bench in a park during the dead hours of the night, talking about nothing and everything you can possibly think of. But you also see the reality that someone is a world or two away, and it will take a couple of well-timed miracles or coincidences to bring you to where your imagination takes you every day."

"You mean like this?" Jack joked lightly.

Daniel turned to him sharply, blue eyes bright in the dim light, and suddenly Jack felt like he was two inches high. The intensity of his companion's gaze bore into him, but Jack blinked, and there was Daniel again, cool, calm, and collected like he always was. His blonde companion gave a faint smile. "You wish, Wilder, but yeah, something like this," he acknowledged. "There's also that faint moment of lucidity where reality and imagination come together in an explosion of color that still makes perfect sense. It's like… dreaming, I guess, but you know you're still in control of the dream."

"Can you actually control your dreams?" Jack wondered.

Daniel chuckled. "I think that's the whole point of falling in love, don't you think? You just… kind of lose yourself in it, until you wake up, at least." There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and Jack felt the fear seize him again.

"Danny—" he started.

"I have to go," Daniel said quickly, standing up and looking at Jack with a tight smile on his face. The walls were coming down before Jack's eyes, and it broke his heart, and no, he didn't want that to happen—

Before Daniel knew it, Jack Wilder stood up abruptly. A pair of hands cupped his cheeks and soft, warm lips were over his own in the next second, and Daniel's world immediately blended together in a perfect mess of color.

Most of his insides were on fire and panicking, wondering where this conversation had gone wrong – this was Jack fucking Wilder, this was his dream, one he woke up from again and again, and it was not something he could afford to stay in, not when the end was so close. So he did the only thing he could do: Daniel Atlas lost himself in the moment, waiting for the moment he would wake up, hating himself every second he did.

He didn't know how long they stood there: two college boys clinging to each other like they were each other's lifeline, waiting to fade away from the collective memory of the university in just a few days, lips on lips like they were perfectly sculpted for each other. Daniel stopped counting the seconds, choosing to let go, and lose himself in his dream, wondering when it would end, hoping one part that it wouldn't, hoping all other parts that it would end soon.

It didn't end, not as it usually did in his dreams. It didn't end with him waking up in his own cold bed, high and depressed from the power of his dream, because the last thing he saw was Jack's closed eyes still stuck in the moment his mind had created. It ended a long time later, when Jack pulled away, a bright smile on his face and his brown eyes shining, warm hands on his face.

"Oh," Daniel said lamely.

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Really, Atlas? Oh?"

Daniel shrugged. "I… well…"

"The great J. Daniel Atlas, at a loss for words," Jack teased. "Will wonders never cease?"

"Shut up," Daniel snapped, but he was unable to keep a smile creeping on his face.

They were thankfully almost exactly the same height, Jack thought as he bumped their foreheads together, some of the fear he had been feeling abated as Daniel took both his hands and intertwined their fingers. He didn't know how long they stood there, silent and comfortable, completely alone in their own little world, with more questions than answers, but somehow feeling more sure than they ever were – at least, he thought he was.

"Where to now, Atlas?" he asked quietly.

Daniel looked at Jack, his blue eyes blazing like opals on fire, more alive and open than Jack – or anyone, for that matter – had possibly seen those eyes. His lips quirked playfully.

"That's a pretty good question, Wilder."