-James' POV-

Yesterday King almost managed to corner me when I narrowly escaped into my apartment. This time I knew it would be different because I wasn't nearly close enough to dart through the door. And instead of behind me, King was between me and the apartment.

Also, Charles and Samuel were there as well. Cowardly much? At least Jefferson wasn't with them I let a mild vine of happiness grow twistingly through my heart at the fact that he'd passed on beating my ass.

Samuel gave me a cruel smile that he never would have had the bravery to pull off if he wasn't half a step behind King.

King, though, pulled his confidence solely from himself. Of from his record of pretty much never losing a fight, even though he picked so many.

Except for that one time Jefferson and King fought… Jefferson won. I didn't remember what it was about, except that I didn't care because it was stupid.

"Too bad T couldn't join us," Samuel lamented gleefully. "He would have loved the terror on your face."

I tried to decide whether to set my jaw- if I gave signs of resistance, they'd only beat me up harder. There was no way I could successfully fight three people who fought pretty much all the time.

On the other hand, was I really just going to crumple at their feet?

I set my jaw.

King sighed in a way that made it clear he was neither disappointed or tired. "Oh well, too bad. Fuck him and his fever, now let's get on with it."

Fever. Of fucking course. Jeffershit didn't care about me, he cared about the shame of these three finding out he had a broken leg.

It was surprising how much the realization hurt. I thought I was on the road to getting over him.

But if I was honest, it was nothing on the punches that came next.

-Thomas POV-

Yesterday Jemmy almost caught me watching him from my window. I don't think he felt me though, because the set of his shoulders hadn't been tense. He just… looked up. As if he was thinking about me.

I wondered pitifully if maybe, possibly, his thoughts weren't taking my name and dragging it through the mud. I didn't think I could bear it if that's what he thought of me- but I knew it most definitely was. How could he not?

But even so, I still sat in my chair, watching people pass, waiting by the window.

I hoped to stay hidden most of the day, or at least from the trio, but I knew I'd see them coming soon enough to get into bed and cover my leg if they did come to visit, which I knew they wouldn't.

It was so empty without Jemmy. Not like the life had gone out of the room, really, but like the sun had. The house felt so big, and I felt so small.

Shit. There were three swaggering figures waiting past Jemmy's house- I'd know them anywhere. I was just about to duck away from the window so they wouldn't spot me when they stopped.

Just in front of Jemmy's house. Their intentions couldn't have been more obvious if they'd brought giant signs and wrote here to beat up f*gs on them, then proceeded to parade them about, screaming slurs at the top of their lungs.

Which, for some reason, hurt for me to picture.

The scene before me hurt more, though. They were waiting for Jemmy, and when he got there… I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't. I'd do anything to stop ot.

Standing up and grabbing my crutches, I headed for the door.

My heart shattered when I finally made it onto the street, the rough, loose rocks on parts of the road making it hard for my crutches to find steady purchase. Jemmy was on the ground, his teeth were gritted as though in searing pain- which he probably ways- and my heart broke even more when the first thing I thought was that this was exactly how Alex had looked that day.

When I all but bolted down the stairs to the street, I had taken the stairs by twos even though the crutches obviously made the speed a dangerous one. To hell with it. I had planned to give myself a few seconds for the mortification of hobbling into a fight with a broken knee to defend my…

...Crush…

...But when I was the three motherfucking assholes beating Jemmy up, even as he lay helplessly on the pavement, I didn't have a second of hesitation in me.

I threw myself across the street as fast as my crutches could take me, barely noticing the way the rocks shifted dangerously under the small, ridiculously narrow ends.

They hadn't seen me yet. Charles was snarling, "You're a freak." I would bash his brains in.

King was standing back with the air of someone too dignified to bend over, even to beat someone. "Just admit it. Say that being a f*g is being a freak and we'll let you go." It was clear from his tone that he'd been offering this escape for a while. I felt a sharp pride at Jemmy's refusal.

I always struggled to maintain my pride when Jemmy seemed to only have polite concern for what other people saw, so I thought he just needed more to be proud of. Now I wondered if he had more to be proud of than me.

And then I cursed myself for wondering because obviously he did.

King continued as Samuel kicked Jemmy in the ribs. "All you gotta do is just-"

And that's when my crutch me the back of his head with a loud, harsh sound and a crazed yell of pain as he fell forward forcefully.

Samuel turned around, fury in his eyes and I had to put down my crutch to keep from teetering after the force of the his knocked my balance off kilter.

Charles gaped. "T? You have a broken-?" There was a crutch shoved in his stomach before he finished the sentence.

I growled. "Leave Jemmy alone!"

-James' POV-

For the first half of the fight, I couldn't even process what was happening because I was still struggling to realize that Jefferson was overcoming his insufferably unconquerable pride to defend me in what I figured could only be a losing fight.

He called me Jemmy. In front of them. It was the first time he'd ever called me anything other than James or Madison in front of anyone other than me. And it was clearly deliberate because he'd looked right into my eyes as he said it.

Or, at least the eye that could still open.

His eyes were full of emotion so strong it spilled into the air around him, almost as if I could feel it. His untamed anger. Protectiveness. Most of all- regret.

I didn't know what he wanted, I didn't know what he was trying to do. But right now, what he was doing- for me- was enough.

After the first half of the fight, I realized he must've been a superhero of some sort because he was absolutely magical with those crutches. Even confined to the worst balance and a single leg, Thomas was fighting like I'd never seen him fight before.

He was a tornado, an avalanche. A hurricane.

As always, he fought not with technique or strategy, but with pure force and fury that was a terror to behold but for me it was a miracle. A light. A rainbow.

I had never seen him so mad in my life. Neither had I seen anyone look so scared- Charles and Samuel looked on the verge of wetting their pants. Even King looked reluctantly intimidated.

When the trio began to stop meeting Thomas' attacks with counterstrikes of their own, Thomas drew back. This was a first.

"Get the fuck out of my goddamn neighborhood."

Thomas' voice contained barely suppressed fury. I couldn't believe he was restraining himself. I had been afraid he'd beat them all unconscious before he stopped.

A rare glow of pride cast a light in my body. He'd changed. He still had a million flaws, but he was trying. That was more than I ever thought I would be able to say.

"Where the fuck are you going?" King yelled as Charles and Samuel beat a hasty retreat.

"How can I keep leading when my people keep retreating?" King's furious mutter was the last we heard from him when he chased them down the street.

I stood up- shaky and hurt but relatively healthy- and stumbled only far enough to sit on the steps to my apartment. "Thank you," I managed to get out through my bruised mouth. I got ready to stumble up the steps.

"Jemmy." I heard the telltale click of crutches approaching, and from his voice alone it sounded like pleading. Even though he'd just won, it sounded like defeat.

I was as still as a statue because I didn't know what to do, and I was done doing things. If Thomas wanted something from me, he had to go get it himself.

Thomas clicked up the steps until he was at my front door and offered me a hand up. I stared at it. It trembled. I looked up at Thomas' face and understood that even though I was sitting and he stood above me, even though he was helping me up, be was very much begging me.

Thomas took an audible breath and met my eyes. He didn't dare move. He didn't dare ask, or speak. He didn't even look like he was breathing.

I took his hand. Thomas' eyes widened and he let out the softest of gasps- it was actually really cute- and held tight like he was afraid I'd fall. Or that I would let go.

He pulled me up and guided me to the door, steady. Strong.

I had always welcomed him in, but I didn't think we were quite there anymore. Or yet.

He stopped at the door, looking as though he'd love nothing more than to deserve to come in.

The hard truth we both knew was that he couldn't. Not right now.

"Jemmy," he began, his voice raw. I looked up at him and waited. I was ready for whatever best friend excuse he would throw at me. The bullshit shield was up. I could take it. Thomas stared at the wooden floor, one shoulder on the doorframe and a crutch tucked under the other. "I know the last thing I deserve is another shot, but…"

What? I didn't understand what was going on. When he said nothing else, staring at the floor like it had taken his voice, I prompted, "Just- say what's on your mind, Thomas."

-Thomas' POV-

What was on my mind? Three fundamental truths at the exact same time.

Number one: Jemmy had taken my hand and let me help him and even said thank you after everything I'd done.

Number two: I would never ever deserve Jemmy, to be with someone so forgiving and so ready to believe in the good of someone. All those chances I'd thrown away over the years… I didn't deserve another one. I could barely believe I had the nerve to ask for one.

I didn't say these. Instead, I asked, my heart racing, "Lunch? Just the two of us?" As if there'd be anyone else.

I could hear Jemmy's surprise, as light and thick as wool. "Only us?"

It had always only been us, but I'd never said it before, and I could tell he was wondering why I was now.

I nodded, looked up, and quickly looked down. I didn't want to see his face when he said no. I didn't want him to see my face when he said no. Tears threatened to flow, and I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Okay," he murmured softly.

I nearly fainted for shock and joy. My head shot up and I stopped glaring at the floor. "Okay?"

Jemmy almost smiled and it was like the sun had risen in Antarctica. "Okay."

I nodded, grabbed my other crutch, and clicked down the steps. Despite the weight of my cast, I felt lighter than ever before.

Number three: All this time, I'd wanted him. All this time, a part of me knew that. But through all that time, I failed to realize, even in the back of my mind, that I want him to be mine wasn't the end of it. There was more.

I want to be his.