Wes and Eric belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Any others you don't recognize are mine.

Rated R : Strong and descriptive but not explicit sexual content, including m/m contact; language; violence.

This is slash, it includes sexual situations between two men. If you're uncomfortable with the idea, don't read this.

And don't forget to review, I love feedback.

Red Fire

The Reality

"You never believed me. And now look at you."

Wes stared up at the clock face looming over him, pale light gleaming through, washing over them in a silvery river. He was lying on the couch, back in the old clock tower. Eric sat in a chair next to him, his face, like the room, visible with surreal clarity despite the dimness, his expression disapproving. It was silent, no sound, no motion except for the clouds of tiny dust motes dancing in beams of light.

"What didn't I believe?"

"The truth." Eric smiled. "And don't say you don't know what I'm talking about."

"But I don't know."

Eric sighed, an exasperated sound. "You still won't face it, will you?"

"I think I know where this is going." Wes turned, and sat up to look in his eyes.

"I certainly hope so. Look, what's the point of making me say it? You already know."

"You think I never loved Jen."

"No, you finally realize you didn't."

"I admired her. Believed in her."

"She had a lot of qualities you think you don't have."

"She would have been perfect for me."

Eric's lips curved. "Except for one thing."

Wes sighed sadly. "You're right. I loved her, but only as -- sort of an ideal."

"But you imagined it was more. Why?"

"I guess it was my way of convincing myself I was straight. Normal. If I was in love with a woman, I must be all right."

"And in that way, Jen was perfect. You could tell yourself you loved her, but you never had to do anything about it." Eric crossed his arms and leaned back, smiling again.

"Yes. I knew she'd have to leave when her mission was over. And there was her engagement to Alex. No chance it could ever work out."

"Very good," Eric said softly. "Now, what's the rest of it?"

Wes stared at him, feeling obscurely disturbed. "The rest?"

"Come on, Wes, don't let me down. You know what I mean."

And he did know. The sudden impact of it was almost blinding, and yet he had known it all along. Jen had been a fantasy, but Eric was the reality. Eric, who he had thought about, worried about, tried to protect, stood up for, whose respect and friendship he had so desperately wanted. Eric was the face he saw in his dreams. It had always been Eric he loved, but he had been too stubborn to see.

"You're the rest of it," he whispered. They were both on the couch now, lying naked in each other's arms, soft light glimmering over them, his hands stroking every contour, mapping out the body pressing so close to his, then holding him tighter, arms and legs intertwining, as if they could become one.

"Yes..." Eric kissed him, and then looked into his eyes, hands seeming to trail fire over Wes's bare skin. "You've dreamed me, but always been too afraid to make it real. Can you do it now?"

"Do you still love me?"

There was only a slow smile in reply, and a soft murmur, as hot fingers drifted over his face, closing his eyes. "I can't tell you that. You're only dreaming... But it's time to wake up, Wes... Wake up..."

"Wes... Wes, wake up. Can you hear me?"

"Uh... Dad?" Wes opened his eyes. It took a moment to focus, but he made out his father's face hovering over him, breaking into a smile.

"You had us worried for a while, son. Welcome back."

"What happened? Where am I?" But a quick look around answered the second question, even before his father spoke.

"You're in the hospital, with broken ribs and internal bleeding. You got out of surgery only a few hours ago."

"The warehouse... Those men..."

"All under arrest. They're already starting to make deals with the DA. No need to worry about them."

"The Guardians?"

"A few injuries. All of them minor, except you."

And the most important question. "Where's Eric? Is he all right?"

"He wouldn't leave until you were out of danger. Then I sent him home. He took a few blaster shots himself, he needs some rest."

Wes let his eyes sink shut again. "Then everything's okay..." he said.

"Everything's okay. Just relax. You'll be going home in a few days."

He drifted, some corner of his mind knowing it was the drugs they were giving him for pain, his mind dulled and blurred -- except for the dream -- that was clearer and sharper than life, the room inside the tower, colors dimmed in the light streaming through the clock, casting the planes of Eric's face in silver and shadow.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Wes answered. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, you'll have to do something. You can't go on like this. It's time to stop pretending." They were sitting on the couch again, just like that night a year ago, Eric watching him, his eyes so dark and deep Wes felt pulled into them.

"How can I tell Dad? I don't want to hurt him. Disappoint him."

"You've always had a problem with his expectations for you."

"Yes. Take over the company. Carry on the family name. That part's not likely to happen now."

"Wes, it's your life, not his. You have to do what will make you happy."

"But -- I've heard of parents disowning their kids because they're gay -- kicking them out, never speaking to them again."

Eric smiled gently. "Do you really think your father is like that? Don't you think he loves you? You, not just the image of what he wants you to be. He already accepted your decision to leave Bio-Lab, and make your own life."

"But I went back, in the end."

"Yes. On your own terms. He knows that."

"But this is different."

"True. But give him a chance. No parent who really loves their child would reject them for being gay. For something that's a part of them, something that's not even a choice, something that's not wrong by any logical standard."

"What about my friends? People at work? The Guardians?"

"Some will find out. Some will be fine with it. Some won't. It'll all work out, you'll see."

Wes paused. Smiled, and closed his eyes as Eric kissed him, just the ghost of a touch across his lips. "How do you know so much?" he whispered.

"I only know what you know, Wes."

"Did you say you still love me, in that warehouse?"

"Did I?"

They were lying in each other's arms again, naked, bodies pressed together, a tangle of love, desire, and uncertainty burning Wes to the core until he ached with it, unsure of where he left off and Eric began, yet feeling an unknown distance between them. "Do you love me?" he asked again.

"Don't you know?" Eric touched him, sending fiery currents cascading up his spine.

"Do you love me?"

Eric kissed him again, searing him, waves of heat echoing until he vibrated. "I can't tell you what you don't already know."

"Do you love me?" Wes closed his eyes, Eric's hands stroking him, touching him, fingers running over his skin leaving heat in rippling shimmers, everywhere... "Do you love me?" he murmured, as he found himself alone, pale, cool light falling over him, the old couch, the clock face, the dark and chilly silence of the tower.

Only the echo of a whisper answered. "You'll have to find that out for yourself."

It turned out to be five days in the hospital, days that seemed to crawl once the painkillers had worn off and his head cleared completely. But the time was valuable. It gave him a chance to think, to evaluate his life, and what was missing from it. It was a time to face himself, to accept his true nature, to let out what he had kept locked inside for so long. It was easier than he had feared, the process had been going on for a long time, he realized, maybe since that night in the clock tower, maybe even since those few moments in the dorm in prep school, when he had wanted Eric to kiss him.

Eric came to see him only twice, both times when Wes's father was there. They shook hands and smiled, asked each other how they felt. Wes searched his face for some sign, wished he could somehow show how things had changed, wondered if Eric still felt the same way, if the words he thought he had heard back in that warehouse had been real, or just another dream.

Then came the day he was released, and driven home in their limousine. Back to the house, to the comfort of his own room, to lie awake in his own bed, and wait for the time when he would be strong enough to get up. Hopefully strong enough to confront Eric, to find out if they still had a chance. To start again, and this time do it right.

It was raining again as he stood outside, watching the house for a few minutes before getting up the courage to go up the walkway. He rang the bell and waited, his heart lurching almost painfully when Eric opened the door and stared out at him silently, his face showing nothing.

"Well?" Wes asked. "Can I come in?"

Eric blinked at him for another moment, and then stood aside. "Sure." He closed the door behind them, and then turned for another look. "Shit, Wes, you're all wet," he said. "What were you doing out there?"

Wes shrugged. "Just... took me a little while... It wasn't easy, coming here."

"Come on, I'll get you a towel." He led the way to a small closet in the hallway outside the bathroom, took out a towel and tossed it over.

"Thanks."

"Why are you here?" Eric turned partially away and hunched a shoulder at him. "Don't tell me. You want me to quit my job and leave town. Well, maybe I should. But I don't want to. And I don't want you to quit, either."

"Huh?" was all Wes managed to say as he stared, completely bewildered.

"I know I broke my promise. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again, I swear. Just -- don't quit, or ask me to leave."

"Oh, that. Forget it."

Now it was Eric's turn to say, "Huh?" blankly.

"That's not why I'm here."

"Then... why?"

"First of all, that was a really stupid thing to do. Running out like that, trying to get yourself killed."

Eric smiled slightly at that. "Believe me, I didn't want to die. It just seemed like the only thing to do at the moment."

"Second -- why didn't you visit me at home?"

That got another blank look. "I didn't think you'd want to see me."

Realizing he was stalling, Wes took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Look... I've been doing a lot of thinking. A lot. Realized some things." He took a step closer and tried to steady himself, searching for the right thing to say, to ask what he needed so badly to know, and failing to find it. So he just blurted it out. "Did you say you love me, back in the warehouse?"

"What?" Eric stared at him, and then looked away. "What difference does it make?"

"I want to know." Wes took another step.

"I'm not giving you any more reason to want to get rid of me."

"Just tell me. Yes or no."

"I thought you were unconscious!"

"So you did say it."

Eric began to take on the look of a cornered animal. "Are you just trying to humiliate me or something?"

Another step closer. "Where's all that honesty now? Tell me."

"Yes, dammit! What are you going to do about it?"

"Make you shut up for once in your life." And with that Wes reached up, grabbed Eric's head and kissed him, feeling him tense in surprise, finding it a little strange to kiss someone his own height, not to mention the broad shoulders his hands quickly fell to. Strange, but he could definitely get used to it.

Eric's hands reached to his body hesitantly, lightly touching the wrapping around his ribs, then moving up to curl gently and carefully around his upper back, only the tight grasp of his fingers betraying emotion. They held on to each other, hugging, fitting themselves together from head to toe as the kiss deepened.

After a time Wes pulled back far enough to look into Eric's eyes, seeing them spark and then darken with a deeper fire as he said softly, "You think you know so much. Didn't you know I'm in love with you?"

Continued in Epilogue...