James wasn't expecting to escape from Kendall Knight for the rest of the school day. The two had a majority of their classes together (unfortunately), apart from the brunet's Shakespeare class. Kendall had sculpture around this time; what didn't help though was that the classrooms were literally across the hall from each other.

But James was thankful for this small window. He was glad there was a time in his day to escape the dirty blond; his mind wasn't on Othello however, sadly. As much as he tried, nothing from the pages stuck. His mind palace was heavily disorganized and he was trying to fix it: papers upon papers of a mess, a mess that just had to happen today.

'What happened back there? I got this weird feeling...like Erin was there. B-but that's impossible right, he's gone! Erin's been gone for two years, nothing is going to bring him back…! As much as I wish that were possible, it's not and I have to keep reminding myself of that! But then what happened with Knight?'

James set down his pencil and sighed, eyes a lighter golden-brown than normal. He truly was confused about this. He just met this guy; they met through an unpleasant chance in life but has so far turned the brunet's life upside down. Returning him his ID, out-sassing him back at the cafe and then that strange, familiar sensation when he recalled that memory about Erin.

It felt like...like James had been home. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had been free.

No pain, no urge to throw up or break down. No sense of emptiness, hollowness; a wave of serenity had washed over James while he was with Kendall, and it had left the second they parted ways. It was strange, it was unusual and it downright scared him.

It scared him.

"What does this mean?"

-Page Break-

Kendall was finished with his assignment. Sculpture wasn't a hard class to survive; just listen to the professor, take notes and then let your creative side come out. You followed those three simple rules and you pass, simple as that.

Right now the class was taking today's period to plan out their next big sculpture: it had be of something significant, sentiment to them. It could be anything, from a person they loved to a symbol. As long as it wasn't something too profane, Dr. Maine let the students have free reign over their latest project.

Kendall was a pretty creative guy. Almost anything and everything can pop into his head...yet what came out of the once soft, gray glob had surprised the dirty blond.

Two hands locking fingers. One of the hands was pale, pale like marble (you could tell even with the shade of gray) and thin. It was thin like the other but had indents in the folds of its knuckles; this told Kendall that the owner of the hand, male, had been older than the other. It was older, maybe thirteen years older but it was still young, still perfectly chiseled.

The other hand was darker, darker that if he was painting instead of sculpting he would choose a dark brown color, closer to caramel for the skin tone. It was thinner, fingers not as long as the older's but still long, long and thin. There weren't as many scars, many bruises or indents in the palm, knuckles, wrist; the owner was probably eighteen, much younger than the other.

Still, what brought them together were the simple, golden bands on their ring fingers.

Simple, golden bands. Simple, golden wedding bands.

These hands...were the hands of a married couple.

One of the hands...resembled James's left hand. Kendall didn't see a ring on his finger while they were at the cafe, but this detail, this immense detail told him that the brunet must have been wearing a wedding band.

James Dylan Diamond, only nineteen right now...he had been married.

Married to an older man...a man that Kendall had seen. During the cafe, during that strange, out-of-body experience.

James, a much younger James, probably sixteen. Washing dishes in a near perfect kitchen, with a polished countertop and hand-carved wooden high chairs. He dressed in a white shirt, nicely ironed, pressed black dress pants and a matching vest. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hands dripping with soapy water residue. The vision...no, memory changing to James coming face-to-face, sweet breaths mingling, with an older man.

A handsome, taller, older man.

The man...he was tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with his short dark brown, almost black, hair. Curly dark brown, almost black, hair. His eyes were a starling blue-green, a very starling blue-green, dark and cold and unfathomable as he stared down at the brunet, jaw locked and expression stoic.

...If Kendall hadn't been paying attention, he wouldn't have noticed that while both were staring rather coldly at each other...their hands had been locked rather tightly together over the sink. Hands locked tightly together, fingers playing and twisting over and over like vines. They had been staring into each other's eyes, James listening to the other go on about being "difficult to read" but their hands...their hands had betrayed them.

Betrayed their acts, their masks. What they really wanted their hands were showing to the whole kitchen: the desire to be close to the other, the affection they try hide away, unconditional support during the worst of times. And...the love. The love they had for each other. James's eyes, a vivid hazel-green in the flashback, were warm and caring and just filled with tender care. The older man's, a dark and haunting bluish-green, were cold and hard and deep...yet pass those icy walls was a warmth too.

A warmth that needed to be freed, to be taught life. To be taught how to live, and...how to love.

So close, but at the same time...so far apart.

Kendall closed his eyes, and kept them closed for who knows how long.

But when he opened them again, they weren't a vibrant bottle green. They were...a starling blue-green, brighter than they ever were.

"Let me show you something…."

-Page Break-

"You love him?" Abby repeated, cat-like golden eyes wide. Her hands fell over her mouth, graying reddish-blonde hair tumbling out of its usual bun.

Erin Masters had his hands in his pressed black dress pants pockets, sharp chin pointed downwards as he stared at the sleeping brunet in his bed.

James didn't look as pale as he did an hour ago, the bite of hypothermia now a thing of the past. His almost shoulder-length chocolate hair was now dry, splayed across the pillowcase like a silky halo. His lips were parted, soft pants leaving his chest. His soaked-to-the-bone clothes were now down in the laundry room, replaced by the tank top and plaid bottoms he wore to bed. He still had several blankets wrapped around him and a warm, wet washcloth on his forehead but he was looking much better.

Much better than when Erin had saved him from drowning in the cold, numbing waters of the frozen over pond.

The older man winced. The ice shattering under the younger's feet; his scream piercing the still, lazy winter afternoon; his warm, soft skin turning blue as an ugly chill began to consume him; tears turning to frost against his thin cheeks, eyes fluttering shut as he started to sink.

Erin making waves as he swam, fought with all he had to save the other. Mouth-to-mouth, get the other's pulse going and him coughing out cold water before rushing him inside. The older man shouting, barking orders as everyone sprinted into action; John made for the blankets; Abby went to get a bath running; Nicholas nearly tripping over his feet to make soup, hot tea and grab the boy's pajamas; Diane starting a hearty fire in Erin's fireplace, preparing his bed and digging through his medicine cabinet.

Everyone did what they could and then waited, waited by the master's ajar bedroom door with their hearts racing and expressions hopeful, praying.

Those expressions matched Abby's, the head maid, now though: reading surprise and confusion.

All of them loved their master Erin. For someone frigid, hard to comprehend and often times rude, he wasn't a bad person. He wasn't a bad person but a broken person; someone so shattered and damaged, being cold and distant were the only ways he knew how to interact with other human beings.

But James….James.

Erin cleared his throat as he took a seat at James's side, reaching out a pale, thin hand to wipe away the stray tear running down his face. To wipe away the lone tear, and to the caress the once again warm, soft caramel-colored skin.

The older man raised his head, Abby and the others (from the angle they were at) letting out silent gasps.

Erin Masters...Erin Masters was crying. Silent, big and boiling hot tears streamed down his sharp, beautiful face and puffed out his usually hard, cold blue-green eyes. In fact, all the blue was gone, from his eyes. They weren't a bluish-green anymore; the blue had bleached out, lost to the green that was taking on a very pale, very, very pale olive tone.

His breathing was uneven, shoulders slightly shaking.

"I...I can't say that word. It's a word that is beyond my comprehension, or perhaps I choose to be ignorant of its meaning. Whatever is the most accurate explanation, I cannot simply say it, Abby. All I c-can say is...is that if he dies, I go with him. I go with him, end of story."

-Page Break-

Kendall blinked.

Kendall blinked. Once, twice, three times for good measure. He was back in the classroom, the other students chatting away while their professor left for his office to take a call. He was breathing regularly again, a cold sweat at the back of his neck though. He tilted his head up towards the window, already wide eyes going even wider.

Tall, dark and handsome. Pale, soft skin that went well with short dark brown, almost black, hair. Curly dark brown, almost black, hair. Eyes a starling blue-green though the blue soon began to fade, being bleached away by the well of emotions bubbling behind those impressive, beautiful eyes. The beams of light, of pale gold and soft white, made the marble of his skin shine, his facial features more pronounced.

'Y-you...'

Erin eyed the dirty blond with deep, piercing olive green eyes. He looked like he could burst out crying, but he couldn't; eyes wet, yet nothing fell.

'You...you...'

"You can see me…"

-Page Break-

James found himself in the men's bathroom again, clutching at one of the shiny, wet sinks. His head was ducked, yet when he did raise it he saw his eyes were wet. They were wet, really wet; tears streamed down his cheeks, hard and fast and heavy. His breathing was uneven, threatening to split his torso in two.

He sunk his teeth into his full, soft lower lip. He slid to the floor, on his knees and one hand wrapped about his torso as if to keep it from shattering to millions of little, tiny pieces.

The other hand, his left hand, was pressed to his lips.

Pressed to the smooth, cool metal of his wedding band.

There's nothing much we can say but...stay tuned. Stay tuned for the next magic act and see! :D Hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and we'll see you in the next one! Thank you again and stay beautiful! ;) Disclaimer: We don't own Big Time Rush! All we own is the plot and the OCs that are the mysterious Erin Masters, the insane fan Jean Love and Amelia Blackwater! :D