Ello there luvs, I bring to you the nect chapter in the wonderful story that we all know and love. My teachers keep telling me they want to read my work when I publish it but...ahem...I don't think they'll like this. XD Love you all! Enjoy

Chapter 10: Sailors, Lovers Lost and Treasure Gained

"Rory…" Alex whispers out, and it's the saddest voice you could ever hear, strangled and filled with pain. Rory looked up at him wearily and tugged on Jake, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder, to sit up as well. As Jake wiped the sleet from his eyes Alex tried to say something else, but failed. And that's when they all knew. Rory got off of the couch swiftly, engulfing him into his arms and patting him on the head; aimless whispers flowing into his ear, a thousand words that meant a thousand things more than what Alex wanted to hear.

Jake recognized that tone, that desperate ache, that odd crack inside of Alex's voice. Bit his lip inside of his sleep as well, flinching and sliding closer to Rory. He knew what Alex was going to say and didn't want to hear it, but seeing Alex being rocked back and forth by Rory made his eyes tear up, just a little bit, and his fingers curl into a fist. He would not cry, however. He couldn't. Wouldn't dare fucking shed a tear for that ungrateful child. He wouldn't let Remy get to them. Get to him.

"He'll be back." Jake says, hands in his pocket, desperately looking for a cigarette.

"He's not coming back." Alex voice is high pitched now, and he points a finger at Jake, scowling." And it's your fault!"

Rory's hand found it's way through Alex's hair and he simply opened his arms, in that knowing, brotherly way. Jake gave up on finding his cigarette and slipped into his arms, pouting and putting his chin on Rory's shoulders. Rory was silent, only his eyes shown with an odd type of remorse as Alex blinked back as many sullen tears as he could.

Trent sat down by the table cradling a magazine in one hand and a cup of tea in another. He glanced up every now and then to see Adrian in the same postion as before, hunched over his laptop, fingers brutally assaulting the keyboard. He thought that if he jammed the keys any harder he might break it. "Addy…" He trailed off after a few awkward minutes filled with harsh breathing, Adrian almost looked windswept from typing, and spoke softly," What are you writing?"

"A 'Have You Seen This Slut?' poster, I'm going to put it about the campus."

"Miss Michael already?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm doing it. S'because I don't know where he's at. I need to hate him within a 5 mile radius, and I know he's somewhere far outside that perimeter." Adrian scowled, " But the copy button broke, so I have to keep typing the same thing over and over again. AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF!" He says this last part rather loud and is about to strike the computer when Trent throws his magazine and intercepts his fists path.

"Hey!" He chided, " That was your birthday present from me. I'll murder you if you break it."

Adrian slumped into the chair unhappily, " Maybe I shouldn't have kicked him out. I mean, he could of like staid somewhere else for a while…wha- what is he doing now? I'm worried."

"You care too much." Trent sighed out, rolling his eyes. He sipped at his tea for a moment before shrugging out," What's the worst that could happen?" Snorts a little, stiring his fingers around the rim of his cup," Heh, him sleeping in a bathtub?"

Actually, Michael was in fact sleeping in a bath tub. Rather cozy at the moment too, especially with Jake hanging over him, legs akimbo, lips drawn tight and cigarette smoke flowing from his lips. He blinked for a few minutes, once Jake had slammed the door to the bathroom Michael was jard from his sleep. That and the bottles of shampoo from the racks on the wall were jostled and hit him in the head. Regardless, Jake is chain smoking and Michael is held transfixed by the intoxicating smell and the intricate stacks of smoke that appears from his firmly pressed together lips. "Alex still not talking to you?" He mused, rubbing his eyes.

"Ah, fuck him." Jake waved his hand, erasing the thought from his mind, " Cigarette?"

"Why thank you." Michael smiled, pulling one from Jake's skinny fingers," Don't mind if I do."

They sat there for a while, smoking and complaining. Every now and then one of them would say something crude, earning a giggle, and after a while they decided to fuck around with each other's minds just because it was the proper thing to do while smoking a cigarette.

"What the fuck is up with Dylan?" Michael asked a few minutes after Jake had accidentally lit the curtain in the bath tub on fire. He ended up turning on the dial and over flowing the whole tub, so now little plastic blue ducks were floating past Michael's feet. He kicked one idly and looked at him, eye brows raised.

Jake looked bored. "What about him?"

"I dunno."

"What about him?" Jake repeats, this time shifting on the toilet seat . He licked his lips and frowned at the rather interesting blue duck-- named Sir Elliot Of Dukedom by Alex, and kicked it against the wall, splashing water into Michael's already soaking wet face. He blew out a puff of smoke and twirled his cigarette dully," He's old."

"He's like 30."

"Exactly. What about Adrian?"

Now it was Michael's turn to look bored, so he put his cigarette between his toes - some how his shoes and socks had came off during all of this talking- and submerged his head under water, blowing bubbles for a few minutes. It was amazing how long he could hold his breath, and Jake stared, fascinated by him, if only for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to his cigarette.

When Michael came back up for air he laughed slightly. "I dated this chick who could hold her breath for a half hour, no lie. Her parents had this big fancy mansion, so we'd always hang out by her pool. So one day I pissed her off and she jumped in and after like 10 minutes I ended up calling 911 because I thought she was dead and then she like fecking comes up, not blue or anything, and asks why the hell I called 911. Unbelievable!"

"Fecking?" Jake asked, running his hands in the knee high water. He should be worried, but at the moment, he wasn't. Cigarette looked good though- so he took another drag.

"I'm not cursing anymore." Michael half shrugged, bringing his cigarette back to his lips with his toes. Jake did a double take at this, choking on his cigarette smoke that he was holding in his lungs, and laughed, " Where the hell did you learn how to do that?"

"Being bored is a wonderful thing." Michael wagged a toe at him, smiling cheekily. Jake clapped," Anything else you can do?"

"Ah, another night Jake. Don't ruin the magic."

"What magic--"

"Shh…" Michael whispered and Jake closed his mouth, listening. He heard the sound of Michael running his hands around inside of the bath tub, the sound of the hair dryer in the background and the sound of his own heartbeat. Saw the smoke curling through the air, and saw Michael smiling brightly, like this was the best moment of his life. "That's it." Michael nods to himself, and Jake gets it.

Only for a second. " Want another cigarette?"

Michael grabs a toy boat and pushes it towards Jake's foot, " Give it to the sailor."

"Aye, captain."

Marco can't breathe, Dylan makes sure of that as he hugs him as tight as he can. " I love you, love you, love you." He says it three times-- Marco likes hearing things three times, it's always the charm. So Marco nods back, tears in his eyes, biting his lips and sighs out sadly, " Love you too."

Then Dylan shoves him out of the office and locks the door behind him. Fixes his tie and smoothes his hair down. Sits at the desk and frowns. Damnit. Damn Marco. He takes out a stack of homework and begins to work on them when the door opens again. He blinks, about to curse out Jake for picking his lock, yet again, when he realizes it isn't him.

It's Rory

"Oh god, what do you want?"

"Make my toes curl."

"Rory no--" Dylan starts out, but he's already nesseled in his lap, puring. "Will you get off of me!"

"Whhyyieee?" Rory wines out, pouting and poking him in the sides. " Are you out of shape? I can fix that? Or has Jake been doing a good job? Or is it Michael this week? Or wait…wasn't that your car crash Marco outside? You should tell him if you want to catch a bus you shouldn't jump in front of it."

"He jumped in front of it?"

"Well, yeah…"

"WHAT?"

"He's alive, christ, stop acting like you care." Rory rolls his eyes now, sighing. He hops off of Dylan's lap and sits on his desk, crossing his legs and then his arms. "He didn't get hit…kinda moved out the way at the last minute. Shame, I suppose." Rory yawned out sadly, stretching his limbs.

"Why are you here?"

"I just told Alex that Jamie has cancer, so I deicded to come over here and celebrate-" As soon as Rory said these words Dylan swept all the papers off of his desk and sprang forwards, grabbing his arms and pinning him down, tight. Rory blinked at him, eyes clear and exhausted and stiffled a cry as Dylan kissed him knowingly on the cheek and held him there for a few minutes. "You're just now telling me this?"

"M'sorry." Rory whispered out sadly. He pulled a weak smile. " Ah, you know now."

Dylan bit his lip," You're kidding me?" He released his lip from his teeth's grasp because that was something that Marco would do often, and he didn't want to act like Marco in any way what so ever. "You're drunk!"

"I am not." Rory pouts, wiggling under him.

"Are to."

"Kiss my lips, ass hole." Rory snaps, leaning forwards and kissing Dylan with a tentative swipe across the lips. He pulled back, un phased and stared at him," Do I taste like gin to you?"

"Don't you always?"

"Oh, that's not gin. That's that new fragrance by Alan Cummings called Cummings."

Dylan blinked at him, shaking his head as Rory continued," Now can you please get off of me?" Dylan obliged sadly, sliding off of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. " Why are you just now telling me?" He looks sad now, like his own best friend is dying. He couldn't give a fuck less about Jamie, however, it was Rory that he was more worried about-- they were attatached to the hip. So once Jamie did die, who would be utterly depressed?

Rory.

"Want some gin?"

"No, still gotta break the bad news…"

"Who this time?"

"Jamie."

"Wait, doesn't he know…"

"Erm, I lied. He doesn't know. He doesn't know at all, Dylan. What the hell am I supposed to do? Pop up and say 'Sweetie, you have cancer!' . It doesn't work that way. Cause I always have to be the strong one and I'm so tired…" Rory trails off, almost hysteric now and Dylan takes this time to shake him violently, " Get a hold of yourself, Rory!"

Rory shakes his head sadly," I can't, Dylan. The only person I ever loved is going to die."

Dylan looks a lot of things at this moment: Angry, Sad, Depressed but mainly Jealous. But then again, did he actually think that Rory felt something towards him other than hate, bitterness, remorse and pain? Sometimes he did, during that black, bleak period where Marco was just lust and where he actually had time to have a steady relationship. He could say that Rory corrupted him, but then wouldn't that be giving him a compliment? Dylan wasn't going to do that. What Dylan did do was blink at Rory and smile sickly, watching him weep in front of him. That was a first.

He'd savor that moment for the rest of hid life.