Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: To celebrate the fact I actually managed to complete my essay this is being posted early. YAY! There may or may not be a chapter posted Monday, if not the next chapter will be posted around the 22nd.

Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews! I get the feeling some people were hoping for more flashbacks. There will be those but the best way to sum up this chapter is: And now for something completely different! ...Minus John Cleese in a bikini, of course.

Chapter 11

Finley glanced over at Alexander as they stopped at the lights, caught him glancing at him and watched as Alexander looked away quickly and blushed. That felt...odd. Wasn't right.

Of course, right could bite him in the ass at this point and he wouldn't know it.

He knew he shouldn't be this tired all the time. He'd been sleeping for two weeks, why the hell was he so tired all the time?

Emotional exhaustion. Hopefully that's all it was but he knew Ben and Alexander were worried about it. He thought it was just him burning out emotionally again but doing it in a less spectacular fashion this time made Ben think there was something physically wrong with him.

Hell, there might be. Three headaches in under two weeks. That didn't happen often. Could mean something was up in his head, could mean he'd just been exceedingly stressed the past two weeks. He was scheduled for an MRI, better safe then sorry, after all, he was just too tired to be worried about it. Should be more worried, just wasn't.

Alexander was worried. Finley knew that. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was watching Finley closely, well, not hiding it much. He didn't like being caught staring but that was it.

They hadn't spoken much on the car ride back home and...huh, the word felt funny to Finley, home. He didn't dwell on it but knew he didn't want to go to his apartment. Didn't much want to go to Alexander's either. Didn't know what he wanted really. Maybe he should have tried talking to Alexander instead of dozing most of the way home.

Finley felt Alexander's eyes on him again and met his gaze briefly before the light changed and they turned back to the road. Finley hunched down a little more in his seat. "You're going to call me a dozen times tonight, aren't you?"

"Probably," Alexander admitted. "And, yeah, I'll probably rush over if you don't answer."

Finley smiled faintly and shook his head which was, thankfully, not aching. "Let's go to your house then."

"What?"

"Your house. You'll find some reason to stay over, even if it's just to sleep on my couch and, as Ben can tell you, that's not very comfortable. Let's just go to your house," Finley replied.

Alexander said nothing, kept driving. He'd have to turn the car around if they were going to his house. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Finley replied, refraining from adding, Just don't push me. He couldn't do that and Alexander wouldn't do that.

They didn't speak as they drove to Alexander's. Several times Finley thought Alexander was going to try and start a conversation but he never did, always stopped at the last second. Finley left his bag in the car. He had stuff inside already.

"Are you hungry?" Alexander asked as they stood unsurely in the front hall. "I can make dinner."

He wasn't hungry but he knew he had to eat anyway. He'd lost weight he couldn't afford to and knew how worried his brother was.

"Sure," he answered, flipping off his shoes and shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Is there anything in particular you want?" Alexander asked.

"S'okay," Finley replied, shaking his head.

Alexander suppressed a sigh. Finley followed him into the kitchen and sat on a stool as Alexander puttered and clanged about. He traced the patterns on the counter top, wondering what to say until Alexander put a bowl of cream soup in front of him.

"Thanks," Finley said, smiling faintly.

Alexander nodded, cutting up bread. Finley raised an eyebrow at him. It was fresh. They hadn't stopped on the way back.

"Evan was good enough to pick a few things up for me when I called him and said I was coming home," Alexander replied. "Your fridge is stocked too, and probably better than mine. I got a rather forceful lecture from him as well."

Finley frowned. "Why?"

"They were worried about you," Alexander told him. "Annie left dozens of messages on my cell phone. They're all pissed at me."

"Oh," Finley murmured, toying with his spoon.

"I didn't tell them anything, well, not much. Annie figured something was wrong," Alexander explained. "And when she called me on it I told her it was my fault but wouldn't explain further. They're mad on your behalf."

Finley's frown deepened.

"Fin," Alexander said, catching his eyes. "For the most part my family loves you. Annie is convinced you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Hell, even Danny thinks you're a good thing and he hasn't met you yet, he's just going by what my parents have been telling him. I've even gotten a message from him asking me what the hell I think I'm doing."

Finley shifted uncomfortably. "They're not all going to, you know, converge here, are they?"

"No. I told them not to or else Annie and Evan would have been here at least. Annie left to join Eve on tour a few days ago, though, and Evan is away on business. He flew to Texas this morning," Alexander told him.

Finley grinned a bit. "So they would except they're out of town so they can't."

"Exactly. Neither of them have listened to me since they passed the age of five and Annie didn't before then," Alexander returned the smile.

Finley smiled, eyes down. He swirled the soup with the spoon, took another mouthful somehow without a grimace. He'd eaten half and wasn't sure he could stomach anymore.

He winced but managed not to jerk away when Alexander's fingers rested lightly on his arm. He looked up into concerned grey eyes. "You don't have to eat more than you want to, Fin."

Finley shook his head slowly. "I know you and Ben are worried and Ben's probably called uncle by now..."

"It's better if you don't force yourself to eat more than you can," Alexander told him gently. "You'll be less likely to be sick that way. If you're hungry later, or even if you think you can stand to eat something more later, you can always get it or I can always make you something else, okay?"

"Thanks," Finley said, letting the spoon drop into the bowl with a clunk. He hated not being able to finish meals and sitting their toying with his food. It made him feel like a child.

Alexander cleared the dishes without a word. He was all but finished anyway, though Finley heard him put a piece of bread in the toaster before the clatter of dishes going into the dishwasher sounded. It popped up a minute or so later and Finley heard him munching on it as the water ran, sluicing over the bowls before they went in. He folded his arms on the table and put his head down on them.

Alexander touched his hair gently as he rejoined him. Finley's turned his head to the side and looked at him with a nearly timid smile.

"Fin?" Alexander asked, worried.

"I'm okay," Finley told him.

Alexander frowned but didn't argue, kept stroking his hair instead. "You want to go veg on the couch? Watch TV or a movie or something?"

Finley nodded, pushing his arms out, stretching, before getting up. "Sure."

Finley used the guest bedroom. Alexander changed the sheets while Finley showered. They hadn't been changed, the bed hadn't even been made, since Hal had stayed over. He hated that Finley wasn't sleeping with him but he'd have hated it more if Finley had gone home.

He got why Finley didn't want to share a bed with him yet but it hurt having him so close. On the other hand, with the frequency of the damn headaches lately... Alexander didn't want him by himself, neither did Ben. Alexander wanted Finley as close as he could get him anyway...

Alexander was absently smoothing out the creases on the cover when Finley came into the room, wearing an old t-shirt and sweat pants. Alexander's frown deepened but he didn't say anything. It was a defense of Finley's, and in this case the easiest way to handle it was by not making a big deal out of it. He'd shed the sweats when he was ready to.

They stood looking at each other for a few too long moments before Alexander managed to break the trance and walk forward. He was encouraged when Finley didn't shrink away from him. The grey eyes that met his were uncertain but there was love there still.

He cupped Finley's cheek with his palm, letting his thumb drift over the pale skin. Finley didn't look away. Alexander leaned forward and kissed him, gently, surprised and pleased when Finley kissed back, if with more hesitation than normal.

Alexander pulled away first, but did so slowly and naturally, because he could feel Finley withdrawing. He embraced him firmly to cover any embarrassment on either of their parts. Finley squeezed back.

"I'm just down the hall," Alexander forced around the lump in his throat. "Don't hesitate if you need anything, okay?"

Finley nodded. "Night."

Alexander leaned forward again and pecked him on the cheek, breathing, "I love you." before turning reluctantly and leaving.

"Me too," Finley said to the empty room once he was gone.

Finley gasped, shooting up in the darkness. He ran a shaky hand over his face.

He'd been dreaming. They'd been getting bad and then... It was weird. It was like something, someone, had just grabbed him and yanked him out of it. But Finley knew it hadn't been an outside force. Knew it hadn't been.

Fuck, he didn't need to be questioning his sanity as well and now... Finley bit his lip. As much as he hated to admit it he was scared of going back to sleep.

He felt so desperate he thought for a moment he might cry. That he squashed ruthlessly but his feet hit the hardwood before he thought about it and he was padding down the hallway, looking at the partially opened bedroom door. He pushed it open a fraction more, winced as he heard it creak and saw movement inside.

"Alex?" Finley questioned from the door. He was still clutching a pillow. Somehow, Alexander found that faintly disturbing.

"Yes, Fin," Alexander replied, moving over.

Finley walked over hesitantly. Stood by the bed and stopped there. "You mind?"

"No," Alexander told him, he sat up and pulled back the covers. "Come on. It's okay."

Finley shifted, paused. "I can't...Touching...I...I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you."

"So? I don't care, at this point. You need to be here? That's okay. Your rules, Fin, I'll follow them," Alexander assured him.

Finley got in, curled up on his side. He was tense, shivering. Alexander wanted to hold him, comfort him, but knew that would just likely make things worse. He lay down again, watched Finley's bare back tremble.

Finley turned, just slightly, and grabbed Alexander's hand, holding it tight. Alexander moved a bit closer, just a bit, so that Finley could hold his hand against his chest, Alexander's arm lightly against his skin.

"I'm sorry," Finley murmured.

Alexander closed his eyes. He could hear the tears in his lover's voice. "Me too, Fin."

Finley shivered. It was early morning. The dew still sparkled on the grass like the twinkling reflections of a crystal chandelier. Mist hung about, patches of light seeping through like honey, golden and soft. Finley felt as if he were in a cloud.

Then he remembered that mist was a very low stratus cloud. Or was that fog? Both?

He couldn't see very far but he gathered he was in some sort of clearing in a forest. He could see farther up then down, which confused him, but the green honey glow cast by the light and fragile leaves was comforting.

He felt freshness here. He felt renewal.

"You are more alike to me than you shall think."

Finley whirled, tensed, raised his hands up in defense. Nothing happened for long moments. His heart beat began to slow.

A whicker sounded, the soft muffled sound of a hand against something larger, stronger. "Easy, mellon."

Finley found the courage to lower his arm, to catch of glimpse of...

What. The. Hell.

At first glance he was looking at himself. Himself with a horse, holding the reins. His double smiled very slightly at him, "Not quite, my friend."

Finley frowned, shook his head, looked again. No, the man, double, whatever was right. The hair was longer, the build more sturdy and his eyes... same colour, different depth to them, less and more somehow...

This was not him. This man had never broken, as he had; he was, Finley knew, the stronger of them.

The grey eyes softened with compassion. "Ah, but that is experience, little more, for we started out the same. Only the events of our lives have drawn us this far apart."

Finley started. "What are you? A mind reader?"

"Nay," the man laughed. "Though it has been wondered upon before."

"Then how the hell do you know what I'm thinking?" Finley demanded.

"Because I am you," the man replied.

Finley stared blankly, feeling suddenly as if he was drowning and the roar of water rushed through his ears as he was dragged down. His knees trembled, started to give way, and he was caught in a crushing embrace.

Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod... the memories...

He gasped for air, screamed as it filled him and tried to tear himself away. He couldn't. He knew it even as he tried. He was sobbing, babbling nonsense, screaming until his throat felt like it would crack and bleed and he felt utterly, totally safe, as he had not since before... before he had been taken, tortured.

They were on their knees and Finley could not have let go had his life depended on it. His fists were clenched in waves of soft dark hair, his face tucked against a strong jaw. Somehow, someway, the man's cloak was wrapped around the both of them, binding them still tighter together, and his tunic felt soft against the exposed skin of Finley's arms.

And the horse had disappeared, or at least Finley thought it had.

"God," he muttered. "Oh God."

Fingers touched his hot face tenderly. A kiss pressed against his brow in benediction, penance, forgiveness. He trembled.

"Who are you?" Finley barely recognized his own voice.

"Do you really not know?" The man asked.

"Me, somehow," Finley breathed. "But not."

"Yes. I am Faramir. You are Finley. Different." Fingers stroked lightly over the soft hair at the back of his neck. Finley shuddered, lay limply in the strength. "Yet the same for we have but one fea, one soul."

"So you aren't real," Finley moaned and knew as the words slid from his lips they were false.

"I am real. You are real. This is real," Faramir told him. "Your memories, the ones you do not know you have, form me. They always will. We are too separate to be one in the same entirely."

Finley felt a tremendous sense of loss at those words. He made a desperate hiccupping whimper of a sound.

"Shh, I shall always be with you now," Faramir soothed. "Here, for now, until you remember fully in the waking world as well."

"I won't remember," Finley said, trembling harder at the thought.

"It is not yet time for you to," Faramir told him. "Soon. There are things that must be settled first."

A keening moan crawled up the back of Finley's throat and lodged itself there. Hands on his face ceased it, soothed it down into the depths of his stomach again.

"I loved him," Faramir said with quiet intensity so strong it could never be wavered. "I loved him as I did no one else."

Finley made a noise of disagreement. He remembered...

Faramir laughed and Finley found he loved the sound. He missed making it. "No, not in that way. Only one captured my heart in that way, and we were not shield mates as such, though she would not have disagreed with the expression. But still, I loved him, and as no other as no loves so great can be the same. The greatest loves have much in common but never are they the same."

"I can't..." Finley managed. "Not yet..."

"Shh, I know, I know," Faramir soothed. "There is nothing wrong with that. Give it time. It will come. He loves you as fiercely as you do him."

The arms tightened around him and the grey eyes quivered with joyful understanding. "For so long I did not realize such, but all things are clear now. You shall learn it too, in later days, but first you need rest, without dark dreams, and that I can give you tonight."

Fingers again, calloused, brushing over his eyelids, smudging the wetness that painted his lashes. A ghost of a sigh fluttered across his ear. "Rest."

And he was sinking, into warmth, into the honeyed mist patched with the green stained glass glow of newly unfurled leaves.

athelas63: Yeah, I actually make the effort not to think of what exactly they did to Fin while he was being tortured, just the aftermath. The aftermath is bad enough! There will be more discussion on Ben's protectiveness and all that later, this isn't the only flashback I'm going to have, and Alexander and Finley are finally doing what they should have since the beginning, talking. Okay, maybe not right from the beginning because the beginning was supposed to be a one night stand but, yeah, anyway.

PrincessFAz: Yeah, Fin had a rough time, eh? Gotta warn ya, it got worse before it got better but that's for later...Some stuff needs to be patched up/discovered first.

LadyJanelly: Ben and Fin's dad didn't suffer in death so much but he did actually suffer quite a bit in life. He was never a happy guy, certainly. I don't know when this'll come out in the story, or if it will, but from what I gather Denethor hates Ben and Fin's dad and thinks that he's cruel. And when you're parenting is labelled cruel by him...well, yeah. Enough said.

Someone Stupid: Eh, sometimes what I'm thinking about the story comes out in replies to comments just because that's the way my train of thought goes! My beta was basically hugging Fin throughout the whole damn story so far! I'm not sure why Fin didn't even attempt suicide. I think it's partly because of his father but even before then I don't think he considered it an option, I don't know why, exactly, but I have a few ideas.

Catherine Maria: The whole reincarnation thing really takes off from here. I have long since given up control of this story, I only do what the characters tell me so...They way they tell it there are different degrees to which a character merges with their past self and that is determined by a number of things which will be discussed later. It's odd, I know.

I don't think I could stomach going in to detail about Fin's torture. Ben knows quite a bit about what happened to him and Alex has heard a tiny bit but there's really only one person who ever heard close to the whole story but that's later.

Alex's personal crisis as it were, what kept him away from Fin the most, has actually only been mentioned in passing. Only one reviewer actually mentioned it which was what I was half-hoping for. Leaves people as confused as Fin! That's coming, I promise and, really, Alex did things the way he did because of Fin's problems and because of what he knows. If it had just been the one thing, it would have probably been okay; it was the combination with the other thing that killed him.

Great review, by the way, I love the long ones!

Seadragon: You were the only reviewer to remember the dreams! Bravo! They come into play...well, now, and more soon. There will also be more on Ben and Finley's relationship in a few chapters too.

LadyBush: Don't worry, I didn't take offence, and it wasn't an insensitive comment. I toyed with the idea than nixed it. That's why Ben is no longer deployed because if he was I probably wouldn't be able to help myself! I'm glad you like the story so much and hope you like the out of scheduale update!