A/N: I am so thrilled by the wonderful reviews I've gotten recently. I want to respond to each of them individually, but I only have a few moments to post this before I shall be absent for a few days. In general, though, I'd just like to quickly confirm that ambiguity is a very important part of the story, although there's more deliberate fog-lifting in this particular chapter than there has been up to this point - that's symptomatic of the rising action, I suppose. In particular, it's Jack's motives that are in the dark, although one can make guesses, and I've decided (your comment helped me cement the idea, Fritzi Rosier, because I want Jack to be entirely murky before this point, most importantly because he's entirely murky to Ralph, and it is Ralph's mind that the narrative is married to) to save his point of view for the explanation/catharsis, I suppose you could say.
Enjoy! :)
- - -
Alone, the hours passed unbearably slowly. A restlessness that he was not at all accustomed to had fallen over Ralph's muscles. He longed to leave. He longed for the coolness of water surrounding him, rinsing the unbearable hum of thought from his mind. That isn't right. I can't stop thinking. I have to think...I need time to think. Ralph shook his head violently, beyond frustration. The cave was confusing him, smothering him. But Jack's parting fierceness made him afraid to leave, and he hated himself for it.
"Time away," he muttered aloud, smiling faintly at himself, at how crazy it was to speaking to the dead walls, "I need to think away from him. I can't think when he's around."
So when the leaves at the front of the cave rustled, he was immediately grateful at the distraction from himself.
"Eric -" Ralph began warmly, but choked off as the boy flung himself across the floor and into Ralph's side, hiding his blond head in the curve of his arm. A jolt of apprehension sped through his limbs, leaving nausea in its wake. "Oh, god," he said softly, "what now?" Eric lifted his head slightly to peer at him, his eyes stained red with emotion. "There's no end to the trouble we all make for ourselves here, is there?" Ralph said sadly, more to himself than the boy beside him.
"You managed it, didn't you?" Eric's voice was a hoarse, weak whisper.
"Managed what?"
"Robert. You told Jack not to kill him. You saved him." Ralph chuckled helplessly, thinking of how Jack would react to the idea that Ralph had told him to do anything.
"Well, I did suggest it. Lucky he listened. I don't think he ever intended to kill him, though...just mangle him. You know Jack..." Straight out killing must bore him by now, a voice said savagely in the back of Ralph's mind, from his graveyard of memories. It occurred to Ralph rather suddenly, though, that Eric didn't know Jack, wasn't concerned about Jack in the least. Ralph stared down at him in confusion, focusing on him fully for the first time. Eric had buried his head into Ralph's arm again, clearly distressed.
"Eric? What's this about, now?" Ralph placed a hand on Eric's bowed head and smoothed the tangled hair underneath his fingers, overcome by a wave of affection.
"I was worried 'bout Robert," was the muffled response, but Ralph could hear the restraint that his tone was chafing under.
"You've been crying," Ralph said quietly. He knew it was an understatement. The glimpses he had seized of Eric's face had revealed the ravages left by more than a few cursory tears, and there was a shaking weariness to his limbs. He stroked the blond head absently - Eric made no response. "Were you good friends?" Ralph asked in confusion, "I didn't know -" There was a shuddering sigh.
Intuition moved through Ralph like a warm current.
"Oh," he said, startled, "er...I see." Eric's eyes peeked over his arm.
"You do?" The anxiety in his tone was painful to hear. Ralph stroked at his hair reassuringly again, but then straightened suddenly.
"Hold on, now...Robert's been violent, Eric. Are you sure it's safe -" Eric's head had snapped up in a flash, and he was babbling, tripping over his words in his eagerness to defend.
"It's not, he's n-not, it was Maurice! He couldn't help it! He -"
"You can help trying to kill someone, Eric," Ralph said firmly. He faintly regretted the words at the boy's reaction. His entire body seemed to sag, as if mortally wounded.
"I don't care," Eric said, his voice weak again, tears slicking over his eyes, "it don't matter to me. I wouldn't even care if he did kill Maurice," Eric's tone grew defiant. "It don't change anything." Ralph turned the declaration over in his mind while reaching out again soothingly for the boy.
"All right," Ralph murmured, "never mind, then. I'm sure he wouldn't harm you, anyway. No more crying." Eric sank once more into his side. There was a calmer silence. Ralph's eyes drifted absently round the cave and rested on a small spot. He frowned and asked suddenly,
"Have you seen Percy?" Eric's head moved in surprise.
"Yeah..." He seemed ready to add something, but trailed off.
"Because he was here for a bit before, but then he left...and with all the confusion out there, I'm worried about how he might react. He's different than the other little'uns."
"He was scared," Eric said softly. "He was scared of the blood." Ralph stared down at him. "He must have been hungry, so he came to the circle. I was there, waiting for news...and Jack came, and Percy was crying, a little ways off...I reckon he was too scared to move. It was a bit of a mess." Eric turned his head to look up at Ralph. "Jack stopped near him and said something. I don't know what, but he stopped crying."
"Jack?" Ralph said, astonished. Eric nodded.
"Speak of the devil," a voice said dryly from the foot of the cave. Every muscle in Ralph's body tightened with shock, then relaxed. He scoffed, half in annoyance, half in awe, as Jack pushed leaves aside and made his way into the cave lazily.
"I think you are the devil sometimes," Ralph said, only half-joking, as he stared at him.
Jack surveyed the scene before him with an unreadable expression. Ralph tightened the arm about Eric.
"Do you, er, want me to leave?" The boy said faintly, looking uneasily up at Jack.
"No," Ralph said.
"Yes," Jack said at the exact same moment.
"Eric came here for help," Ralph said coldly. "I don't see why he should be chased away." Jack grinned rather unpleasantly at Eric.
"Help with what? Robert still has both his hands, doesn't he?" Eric flinched with shock, and Ralph instinctively put his other arm round him, shooting Jack a reproachful, mildly scandalized look.
"How did you know?" Eric asked breathlessly.
"Your brother, he's in a state." Jack broke off in laughter. Eric sank miserably against Ralph.
"Eric," Ralph said in a low tone, "is Sam jealous?" Eric nodded unhappily. Ralph sighed. "He'll be sorted soon enough, you'll see. You're brothers."
"I hope so," Eric put in miserably. Jack gave a huff of impatience.
"Why don't you go to Robert, already? Get helped? I want to talk to Ralph alone." It didn't sound like a suggestion.
"You said no one was to go near Robert," Eric said meekly. Jack rolled his eyes.
"No one except you. Happy?" He obviously was by the instant brightening of his demeanor. He gave Ralph a troubled, uncertain glance. Ralph smiled weakly.
"Go on. Wash your face and have something to eat, first. You look ill."
"All right," Eric said. He withdrew slowly from Ralph and moved as if to leave, but Ralph clutched at his hand for a moment, moved inexplicably to draw it to his mouth and kiss it lightly.
"Sam will come round. Never mind it."
"Thank you," Eric said fervently, glancing instinctively towards Jack to indicate exactly what he was thankful for. Ralph nodded slightly, releasing the hand. Eric crawled past Jack and out of the cave, his movements quicker now, more purposeful.
"What was all that?" Jack asked sharply. Ralph looked down, his lashes sweeping dark circles on his cheeks that Jack found fascinating.
"He's kind to me. He's always been kind to me. He would be even if I couldn't offer him any help...the others are different, I know it," Ralph's voice was cracked and emotional, and he flushed. What was he thinking? This was Jack. Ralph cleared his throat and looked away. "Why...jealous, are you?" he added mildly. Ralph was amused - and strangely gratified - to see Jack's startled, embarrassed movement. He recovered swiftly, though - he always did.
"Well, you've not yet kissed my hand," said Jack in a forced dismissive tone.
"You've not yet been kind to me," Ralph murmured quietly. There was a heavy silence.
"There's going to be a hunt in three nights," Jack said conversationally. Ralph jerked his head to look at him. He was staring back placidly. So he's taken to ignoring me, Ralph thought grimly.
"A hunt for what?"
"For pigs, idiot." A chill ran down Ralph's spine at the inevitable stirrings of memory. It's not always pigs with you, is it?
"No," Ralph said sharply, "for what purpose, Jack?"
"Not that we need a purpose, but as a matter of fact, it's to celebrate my brilliant handling of the problem with Robert and Maurice." Jack's tone was self-deprecating, but Ralph was in no mood to appreciate the small concession.
"Hmm," Ralph said, without any meaning. He heard Jack draw near. A horrible combination of delight and alarm seized his muscles. He turned his face away in confusion, and flinched when Jack's fingers made contact with the flesh of his back, moving with surprising gentleness across his shoulder. Ralph allowed himself to be pulled against Jack's warm, hard body.
"Come with us." In the haze produced by their closeness, Ralph could not at first understand the invitation. Then he went tense with shock.
"No," Ralph managed in a low, strained tone. It was Jack's turn to grow tense. Then he chuckled suddenly, and Ralph looked warily up at him.
"Don't worry...if you become a hunter, it will be like nothing ever happened. The others will forget -"
"No!" The vehemence in his voice startled even Ralph. "No," he continued more softly, "I can't."
"Why in hell not?"
"I can't! I won't! Let go of me," Ralph struggled to twist away, disturbed.
"All right, keep your hair on," Jack said crossly, and Ralph went limp, faintly embarrassed, but his mind still reeling. There was a moment of stillness, and then Jack urged him gently back against his side, drawing Ralph's head onto his shoulder. "You know, I thought you might say no," he said, sounding more amused than disapproving. Ralph sighed, turning his face into Jack's shoulder.
"What did you say to Percy?" he asked suddenly.
"Eh?" Jack replied, startled.
"I heard he was upset..." Jack frowned.
"Oh, right. Him. Boy's always wailing about something, in' he? I reckon it was all the mess round the fire, Maurice went and bled over everything -"
"He could hardly help it," Ralph interjected softly, examining the skin over Jack's collarbone.
"I suppose not. Anyway...wait, why do you care?"
"Why not?" Ralph replied, surprised. "He's just a child, still...everyone else is cruel to him. It's not his fault that he's sensitive." Ralph's fingers itched to explore the track his eyes had laid. There was a very faint, very thin scar that bobbed over the swell of bone. Ralph wondered if it felt like his. He rubbed his fingers across his marked arm, delighting in the friction.
"It doesn't do him any good here, does it?" Jack remarked dryly. Ralph gave a soft, sad huff of laughter.
"No." He had given up rubbing his arm in favor of clasping an ankle and idly moving his hand over the length of his calf.
"I told him it was a game." Jack said distractedly, staring at the progress of Ralph's hand.
"What do you mean?" Ralph was for the first time conscious of power, conscious of the sway he held over Jack's eyes. He watched, reveling in the feeling, as they followed the dipping and swirling of his hand.
"I, er..." Jack looked and sounded foggy, "I told him the boys were playing a game, and that no one was hurt at all..." he trailed off and swallowed. Ralph's hand wandered up to his thigh. Jack tore his eyes away to probe into the depths of Ralph's gaze. He looked confused and uneasy, rather like an animal that had found firelight in his well-known forest. "It was the best thing I could think of," Jack said, his voice growing hoarse. Ralph took his hand from his leg and stroked Jack's collarbone once, lightly.
"Thank you for looking after him for me." Ralph breathed before closing the distance between them swiftly to cover Jack's mouth with his. The kiss was long and deep, satisfying and not enough at the same time.
Ralph broke away suddenly. "No," he gasped, "I have to think." Jack stared, a look of almost comic incomprehension on his face.
"What are you...what?"
"I - I want some time to think," Ralph said, flushing deeply.
"About?"
"This, of course." Ralph waved his hand, encompassing the two of them and more. Jack stared disbelievingly.
"You're mad. What's to think on? You like it, or you don't! Is that so hard? And don't tell me you don't after that," Jack added disparagingly. Ralph flushed deeper, shame lancing across his chest.
"It's not that simple," Ralph said almost inaudibly. Jack whirled around, pressing a hand against his forehead. "God, Jack. We need to talk." There was a bark of laughter.
"Do we need to talk or do you need to think?"
"Both..." Jack sat down heavily, facing him.
"Then talk. Or think." Ralph stared at him, at a loss for words. Jack sat, glaring, for a few minutes before his frustration overcame him, and he reached for Ralph again.
"I don't have the patience for you," he growled. Ralph was unresisting, confused, torn, exhausted. Jack covered his unresponsive mouth with angry kisses. A faint sense of deja-vu assaulted them both.
"Why are you...what made you like this?" Jack shook him lightly, as if he were a ragdoll.
"You," Ralph said, his voice suddenly raspy, "of course. I fought you for as long as I could, Jack, now you just make me tired." Jack stared at him. Ralph expected a tirade, a blow, a departure. Not another kiss, slower and more thorough than any before it.
"Don't think," Jack murmured when he finally ended, "just answer. Did you like it?"
"Yes," Ralph answered faintly. Jack leaned in, and he turned his head so that he encountered his cheek rather than his lips. "But it's not that simple."
"Damn you," said Jack, with wonder rather than viciousness.
"Just some time, Jack."
"You think too much."
"I know..." Ralph's brows knit in distress. "Please, Jack! Just a few days, please..." he broke off suddenly, overwhelmed with disgust, and jerked roughly away.
"What now, for God's -"
"I'm always begging you for something." Ralph said with loathing, putting distance between them.
"And I'm always giving it to you," Jack snapped, leaping to his feet. "Fine. Right. Think all you like. Rot here with your thoughts if that's what you want." He paused, looking down at Ralph with something like hatred. "You're the devil, I swear it." Ralph glared sullenly into the rock of the cave wall, still caught in a swell of resentment that lasted far after Jack had departed.
It melted away eventually, and he was left with the deep and resonating silence of the cave and the clamor of his thoughts.
Enjoy! :)
Alone, the hours passed unbearably slowly. A restlessness that he was not at all accustomed to had fallen over Ralph's muscles. He longed to leave. He longed for the coolness of water surrounding him, rinsing the unbearable hum of thought from his mind. That isn't right. I can't stop thinking. I have to think...I need time to think. Ralph shook his head violently, beyond frustration. The cave was confusing him, smothering him. But Jack's parting fierceness made him afraid to leave, and he hated himself for it.
"Time away," he muttered aloud, smiling faintly at himself, at how crazy it was to speaking to the dead walls, "I need to think away from him. I can't think when he's around."
So when the leaves at the front of the cave rustled, he was immediately grateful at the distraction from himself.
"Eric -" Ralph began warmly, but choked off as the boy flung himself across the floor and into Ralph's side, hiding his blond head in the curve of his arm. A jolt of apprehension sped through his limbs, leaving nausea in its wake. "Oh, god," he said softly, "what now?" Eric lifted his head slightly to peer at him, his eyes stained red with emotion. "There's no end to the trouble we all make for ourselves here, is there?" Ralph said sadly, more to himself than the boy beside him.
"You managed it, didn't you?" Eric's voice was a hoarse, weak whisper.
"Managed what?"
"Robert. You told Jack not to kill him. You saved him." Ralph chuckled helplessly, thinking of how Jack would react to the idea that Ralph had told him to do anything.
"Well, I did suggest it. Lucky he listened. I don't think he ever intended to kill him, though...just mangle him. You know Jack..." Straight out killing must bore him by now, a voice said savagely in the back of Ralph's mind, from his graveyard of memories. It occurred to Ralph rather suddenly, though, that Eric didn't know Jack, wasn't concerned about Jack in the least. Ralph stared down at him in confusion, focusing on him fully for the first time. Eric had buried his head into Ralph's arm again, clearly distressed.
"Eric? What's this about, now?" Ralph placed a hand on Eric's bowed head and smoothed the tangled hair underneath his fingers, overcome by a wave of affection.
"I was worried 'bout Robert," was the muffled response, but Ralph could hear the restraint that his tone was chafing under.
"You've been crying," Ralph said quietly. He knew it was an understatement. The glimpses he had seized of Eric's face had revealed the ravages left by more than a few cursory tears, and there was a shaking weariness to his limbs. He stroked the blond head absently - Eric made no response. "Were you good friends?" Ralph asked in confusion, "I didn't know -" There was a shuddering sigh.
Intuition moved through Ralph like a warm current.
"Oh," he said, startled, "er...I see." Eric's eyes peeked over his arm.
"You do?" The anxiety in his tone was painful to hear. Ralph stroked at his hair reassuringly again, but then straightened suddenly.
"Hold on, now...Robert's been violent, Eric. Are you sure it's safe -" Eric's head had snapped up in a flash, and he was babbling, tripping over his words in his eagerness to defend.
"It's not, he's n-not, it was Maurice! He couldn't help it! He -"
"You can help trying to kill someone, Eric," Ralph said firmly. He faintly regretted the words at the boy's reaction. His entire body seemed to sag, as if mortally wounded.
"I don't care," Eric said, his voice weak again, tears slicking over his eyes, "it don't matter to me. I wouldn't even care if he did kill Maurice," Eric's tone grew defiant. "It don't change anything." Ralph turned the declaration over in his mind while reaching out again soothingly for the boy.
"All right," Ralph murmured, "never mind, then. I'm sure he wouldn't harm you, anyway. No more crying." Eric sank once more into his side. There was a calmer silence. Ralph's eyes drifted absently round the cave and rested on a small spot. He frowned and asked suddenly,
"Have you seen Percy?" Eric's head moved in surprise.
"Yeah..." He seemed ready to add something, but trailed off.
"Because he was here for a bit before, but then he left...and with all the confusion out there, I'm worried about how he might react. He's different than the other little'uns."
"He was scared," Eric said softly. "He was scared of the blood." Ralph stared down at him. "He must have been hungry, so he came to the circle. I was there, waiting for news...and Jack came, and Percy was crying, a little ways off...I reckon he was too scared to move. It was a bit of a mess." Eric turned his head to look up at Ralph. "Jack stopped near him and said something. I don't know what, but he stopped crying."
"Jack?" Ralph said, astonished. Eric nodded.
"Speak of the devil," a voice said dryly from the foot of the cave. Every muscle in Ralph's body tightened with shock, then relaxed. He scoffed, half in annoyance, half in awe, as Jack pushed leaves aside and made his way into the cave lazily.
"I think you are the devil sometimes," Ralph said, only half-joking, as he stared at him.
Jack surveyed the scene before him with an unreadable expression. Ralph tightened the arm about Eric.
"Do you, er, want me to leave?" The boy said faintly, looking uneasily up at Jack.
"No," Ralph said.
"Yes," Jack said at the exact same moment.
"Eric came here for help," Ralph said coldly. "I don't see why he should be chased away." Jack grinned rather unpleasantly at Eric.
"Help with what? Robert still has both his hands, doesn't he?" Eric flinched with shock, and Ralph instinctively put his other arm round him, shooting Jack a reproachful, mildly scandalized look.
"How did you know?" Eric asked breathlessly.
"Your brother, he's in a state." Jack broke off in laughter. Eric sank miserably against Ralph.
"Eric," Ralph said in a low tone, "is Sam jealous?" Eric nodded unhappily. Ralph sighed. "He'll be sorted soon enough, you'll see. You're brothers."
"I hope so," Eric put in miserably. Jack gave a huff of impatience.
"Why don't you go to Robert, already? Get helped? I want to talk to Ralph alone." It didn't sound like a suggestion.
"You said no one was to go near Robert," Eric said meekly. Jack rolled his eyes.
"No one except you. Happy?" He obviously was by the instant brightening of his demeanor. He gave Ralph a troubled, uncertain glance. Ralph smiled weakly.
"Go on. Wash your face and have something to eat, first. You look ill."
"All right," Eric said. He withdrew slowly from Ralph and moved as if to leave, but Ralph clutched at his hand for a moment, moved inexplicably to draw it to his mouth and kiss it lightly.
"Sam will come round. Never mind it."
"Thank you," Eric said fervently, glancing instinctively towards Jack to indicate exactly what he was thankful for. Ralph nodded slightly, releasing the hand. Eric crawled past Jack and out of the cave, his movements quicker now, more purposeful.
"What was all that?" Jack asked sharply. Ralph looked down, his lashes sweeping dark circles on his cheeks that Jack found fascinating.
"He's kind to me. He's always been kind to me. He would be even if I couldn't offer him any help...the others are different, I know it," Ralph's voice was cracked and emotional, and he flushed. What was he thinking? This was Jack. Ralph cleared his throat and looked away. "Why...jealous, are you?" he added mildly. Ralph was amused - and strangely gratified - to see Jack's startled, embarrassed movement. He recovered swiftly, though - he always did.
"Well, you've not yet kissed my hand," said Jack in a forced dismissive tone.
"You've not yet been kind to me," Ralph murmured quietly. There was a heavy silence.
"There's going to be a hunt in three nights," Jack said conversationally. Ralph jerked his head to look at him. He was staring back placidly. So he's taken to ignoring me, Ralph thought grimly.
"A hunt for what?"
"For pigs, idiot." A chill ran down Ralph's spine at the inevitable stirrings of memory. It's not always pigs with you, is it?
"No," Ralph said sharply, "for what purpose, Jack?"
"Not that we need a purpose, but as a matter of fact, it's to celebrate my brilliant handling of the problem with Robert and Maurice." Jack's tone was self-deprecating, but Ralph was in no mood to appreciate the small concession.
"Hmm," Ralph said, without any meaning. He heard Jack draw near. A horrible combination of delight and alarm seized his muscles. He turned his face away in confusion, and flinched when Jack's fingers made contact with the flesh of his back, moving with surprising gentleness across his shoulder. Ralph allowed himself to be pulled against Jack's warm, hard body.
"Come with us." In the haze produced by their closeness, Ralph could not at first understand the invitation. Then he went tense with shock.
"No," Ralph managed in a low, strained tone. It was Jack's turn to grow tense. Then he chuckled suddenly, and Ralph looked warily up at him.
"Don't worry...if you become a hunter, it will be like nothing ever happened. The others will forget -"
"No!" The vehemence in his voice startled even Ralph. "No," he continued more softly, "I can't."
"Why in hell not?"
"I can't! I won't! Let go of me," Ralph struggled to twist away, disturbed.
"All right, keep your hair on," Jack said crossly, and Ralph went limp, faintly embarrassed, but his mind still reeling. There was a moment of stillness, and then Jack urged him gently back against his side, drawing Ralph's head onto his shoulder. "You know, I thought you might say no," he said, sounding more amused than disapproving. Ralph sighed, turning his face into Jack's shoulder.
"What did you say to Percy?" he asked suddenly.
"Eh?" Jack replied, startled.
"I heard he was upset..." Jack frowned.
"Oh, right. Him. Boy's always wailing about something, in' he? I reckon it was all the mess round the fire, Maurice went and bled over everything -"
"He could hardly help it," Ralph interjected softly, examining the skin over Jack's collarbone.
"I suppose not. Anyway...wait, why do you care?"
"Why not?" Ralph replied, surprised. "He's just a child, still...everyone else is cruel to him. It's not his fault that he's sensitive." Ralph's fingers itched to explore the track his eyes had laid. There was a very faint, very thin scar that bobbed over the swell of bone. Ralph wondered if it felt like his. He rubbed his fingers across his marked arm, delighting in the friction.
"It doesn't do him any good here, does it?" Jack remarked dryly. Ralph gave a soft, sad huff of laughter.
"No." He had given up rubbing his arm in favor of clasping an ankle and idly moving his hand over the length of his calf.
"I told him it was a game." Jack said distractedly, staring at the progress of Ralph's hand.
"What do you mean?" Ralph was for the first time conscious of power, conscious of the sway he held over Jack's eyes. He watched, reveling in the feeling, as they followed the dipping and swirling of his hand.
"I, er..." Jack looked and sounded foggy, "I told him the boys were playing a game, and that no one was hurt at all..." he trailed off and swallowed. Ralph's hand wandered up to his thigh. Jack tore his eyes away to probe into the depths of Ralph's gaze. He looked confused and uneasy, rather like an animal that had found firelight in his well-known forest. "It was the best thing I could think of," Jack said, his voice growing hoarse. Ralph took his hand from his leg and stroked Jack's collarbone once, lightly.
"Thank you for looking after him for me." Ralph breathed before closing the distance between them swiftly to cover Jack's mouth with his. The kiss was long and deep, satisfying and not enough at the same time.
Ralph broke away suddenly. "No," he gasped, "I have to think." Jack stared, a look of almost comic incomprehension on his face.
"What are you...what?"
"I - I want some time to think," Ralph said, flushing deeply.
"About?"
"This, of course." Ralph waved his hand, encompassing the two of them and more. Jack stared disbelievingly.
"You're mad. What's to think on? You like it, or you don't! Is that so hard? And don't tell me you don't after that," Jack added disparagingly. Ralph flushed deeper, shame lancing across his chest.
"It's not that simple," Ralph said almost inaudibly. Jack whirled around, pressing a hand against his forehead. "God, Jack. We need to talk." There was a bark of laughter.
"Do we need to talk or do you need to think?"
"Both..." Jack sat down heavily, facing him.
"Then talk. Or think." Ralph stared at him, at a loss for words. Jack sat, glaring, for a few minutes before his frustration overcame him, and he reached for Ralph again.
"I don't have the patience for you," he growled. Ralph was unresisting, confused, torn, exhausted. Jack covered his unresponsive mouth with angry kisses. A faint sense of deja-vu assaulted them both.
"Why are you...what made you like this?" Jack shook him lightly, as if he were a ragdoll.
"You," Ralph said, his voice suddenly raspy, "of course. I fought you for as long as I could, Jack, now you just make me tired." Jack stared at him. Ralph expected a tirade, a blow, a departure. Not another kiss, slower and more thorough than any before it.
"Don't think," Jack murmured when he finally ended, "just answer. Did you like it?"
"Yes," Ralph answered faintly. Jack leaned in, and he turned his head so that he encountered his cheek rather than his lips. "But it's not that simple."
"Damn you," said Jack, with wonder rather than viciousness.
"Just some time, Jack."
"You think too much."
"I know..." Ralph's brows knit in distress. "Please, Jack! Just a few days, please..." he broke off suddenly, overwhelmed with disgust, and jerked roughly away.
"What now, for God's -"
"I'm always begging you for something." Ralph said with loathing, putting distance between them.
"And I'm always giving it to you," Jack snapped, leaping to his feet. "Fine. Right. Think all you like. Rot here with your thoughts if that's what you want." He paused, looking down at Ralph with something like hatred. "You're the devil, I swear it." Ralph glared sullenly into the rock of the cave wall, still caught in a swell of resentment that lasted far after Jack had departed.
It melted away eventually, and he was left with the deep and resonating silence of the cave and the clamor of his thoughts.