Chapter Nine
Day One, midday

Leo pointed toward the cliff facing them. "See it?"

"Yep." Raphael shaded his eyes from the glare, nodding. "Looks cozy."

"It is." Leo paused as he glanced away, and Raphael caught something slightly off in his stance. He nudged him gently, but Leo just took a step forward, pulling him up the beach. "Let's go."

"Okay."

The sloping rocky cliff had many jutting foot and hand holds, and they quickly scaled the small distance to the cave opening. The ceiling was just high enough they didn't have to duck to walk inside, and Raphael was pleased to see not only was it deep, but it also curved gently to one side, offering a perfect shelter from both weather and prying eyes. He strode in, dumping his pack on the ground, then frowned, turning back toward the entrance. Leo had sat on the edge, facing the ocean as his legs dangled over the side.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" Raph asked curiously as he walked back to sit by him.

Leo put a hand over his, his gaze never leaving the shoreline. "There's many reasons why I wanted to bring you down here, Raph."

"Uh huh," Raph prompted, his brow furrowed as he stared as his husband.

"This is one of them. I used this cave as my temporary home off and on while I was down here. Go inside. I'll wait here."

"Stop bein' so damn cryptic," Raphael sighed. "Yer sense of melodrama gets so annoyin' at times, ya know that?"

Leo glanced over at him, and Raphael was startled at the sadness shining in his dark eyes. "Just go. You'll understand why momentarily."

Raphael sighed again, then stood and obediently walked further in the cave. Fortunately the sunlight penetrated most of the way in, except for the very back wall. Raphael prodded a pile of dried wood on the floor with a foot, wondering what he was supposed to find.

"Leo I don't see-," he said, then froze. There was writing on the wall. Once he saw it, he saw it was everywhere; that slanted, spidery handwriting so well known to him. Much of it was worn and faded, but he still recognized the unique lettering style. In a few places, it looked like Leo had even written over previous sentences when he'd run out of space. Even more surprising, it was an odd mix of both English and Japanese.

Only bits and pieces were still legible, and Raphael set about trying to string together the words he could read. From the repeated formatting and scattered dates, it looked like the walls had served as a giant diary. He found one relatively unscathed entry near the floor toward the exit, and he sat down to read it.

Day 486
I cannot stay here for long- the people of the village will need me again soon, as the local guerillas have been stepping up their presence in the jungle once more. But I cannot stop from returning here every few months, watching the plane descend and ascend every day. The plane has become my symbol of home, the last physical thread that binds me to my family.
The family that discovered in my absence that they do not need me.
What they do not realize is, I now know I need them, and how desperately I need Raphael to keep me sane. I am losing myself here, more each day, becoming the Ghost that these people need me to be. I lost myself completely to the Ghost a few months back, deciding once and for all I should shed my former life and become a part of the jungle. And I did, for nearly a month.
Until I woke myself from screaming, crying out for the man who was not in my arms.
I want to go back.
I love you, Raphael.
I love you.
I love you.
I've told this cold stone wall over and over how much I love you this past year. I was afraid to say it to your face, yet I can write it countless times.
I told you we never had to say it. I was wrong. I want to go home.
But how can I? I never even told you I loved you.
I have more fear inside me that I ever dreamed was possible.

Day 487
I am returning to the jungle. I am afraid of staying here- last night I almost stole away on the plane.
I am never coming back. The pull is too strong.

Day 535
Would April lie to me?
Do I even care at this point?
I would rather return home and never be loved, than remain here and be worshipped by strangers.
And if you don't love me, I am still going to tell you to your face.
Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words- but this time, the words will be more important than action.

Raphael rubbed his face, unashamed to feel the damp on his cheeks. He stood and walked to the wood pile, immediately finding the long bits of charcoal he'd expected. He snapped off a small piece, then marched over to Leo, who looked up at him with uncertain eyes. He yanked him to his feet and dragged him over to the last entry and shoved him back down to the floor.

Raphael took a deep breath, then sat beside him, a part of him pleased to see Leo's puzzled expression. He rolled the charcoal in his fingers, coating them black before he leaned forward to write.

Don't ever be afraid to tell me you love me. Cause I love you too and no matter what I always will.

A sob escaped Leo's throat as he wrapped his arms around Raphael's neck, burying his face against his shoulder.

"An' I love tellin' ya that every day," Raphael whispered, nuzzling him gently with his nose. "An' hearin' it back."

"I was- so mis- miserable here," Leo said brokenly, his breath hitching irregularly.

Raphael gently rocked him as he cried silently against his chest, petting his head and whispering soothingly. Finally the shivering calmed, and Raph kissed his forehead.

"Thanks for bringin' me here," he said quietly.

Leo sniffled once more, then reached for the charcoal. Smiling through the last of his tears, he leaned forward and added another line.

I am yours.