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Epilogue
He caught Jackson's body as it fell, and he heard someone scream at him in the background. Someone was pulling him, trying to yank him back. Isaac held on. He laughed darkly.
"It was just a game."
He retracted his claws and pulled out the bullet. He watched the skin stitch itself together, even through blurry tears. He started sobbing, it's been too long, too long... maybe Jackson was wrong. But Isaac knew he wasn't.
"Just a game," he whispered, his grip tighter and tighter.
"Jesus, Izzy, I need to breathe."
Isaac looked up, and he caught Jackson's eyes. He smiled slightly, his head on Jackson's chest.
"He just wanted to mess with us."
"Mess with our mothers without breaking their promise..."
"...just to find pleasure in our misery."
Isaac looked up at Jackson.
"Do you still see strings, Jacks?"
Jackson nodded, kissed Isaac's forehead, then his cheek. He hovered over Isaac's lips.
"Do you see ours?"
It was there, thick and thin at the same time, red but colorless, visible but never there. It's something Isaac had always wished to see, ever since he was a kid.
Jackson still hovered over him. He tilted Isaac's chin up, and before he kissed him, he whispered this:
"Didn't you always?"