"It's freezing out here. Don't you think you ought to go back to your room? Maybe warm up? Get some rest?"
Zane glared at her, and turned back to face the sea. It stretched on forever, it's depth inconceivable, as cold and black as he felt inside. But unlike him, the ocean harbored life. But he was as good as dead inside anyway. The only thing that still lived and thrived within him was a demon--some twisted, hateful entity that turned his back on everyone who cared about him, and lusted after his own brother.
But that was ridiculous. Zane knew he wasn't possessed. Because there was no seperate being dwelling inside of him.
That demon was him.
"Geez, sorry." Alexis narrowed her eyes at him. "What's your problem? You're being even moodier than usual."
"What makes you say that?" Why couldn't she just back off, and mind her own business? Zane could admit she was actually pretty smart. So why couldn't she see that he didn't want to talk about it?
Alexis, slightly hurt, was silent for a moment.
"Well, for one thing, you're turning blue, you're so cold. How long have you been out here?"
"I don't know."
"You always come out here to think. You must have a lot on your mind."
Zane dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands. She had no idea.
"Well?"
"'Well' what?"
"Well, what's going on with you?"
He shook his head, but did not answer her. How could he? What was he supposed to tell her? That he was in love with his brother? That he's nearly torn his arm out of the socket, after finding out that he'd tried to kill himself? That that was his fault, too?
He heard Alexis sigh, in defeat, he supposed, for being unable to get an answer out of him.
Still she stayed, staring at him, her gaze burning into him. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? But instead, she spoke up, breaking the tense silence.
"I saw your brother today."
Naturally. He'd finally managed to rid himself, if only for a short while, of all the painful thoughts of his brother. And here she came to remind him all over again.
"Really."
"Is something wrong?"
"Why would you think there was?"
"Because, Zane," she said, getting impatient, "he looked positively miserable."
He let out his breath. "He always looks like that."
"No, I mean he looked even worse than he usually does. And he just happened to be heading toward the Obelisk Blue dorms. I thought maybe he might have been looking for you. Did you see him today?"
Zane nodded. He wasn't lying, but he sure as hell wasn't elaborating.
"So do you know what's going on with him?" Alexis asked.
He sighed. She wasn't going to give up. But he could tell her as little as possible, keep giving her vague answers until she got tired of asking.
"Not really."
She thought for a moment. "Do you think it has anything to do with Jaden? Like, maybe they got in a fight--"
"Why do you just assume this is about Jaden?" he snapped.
Alexis, startled by his reaction, took a small step back, but held her gaze, glaring accusingly into his eyes.
"I didn't. I just said it might be. Why are you getting so upset about it?"
"I'm not upset."
"Zane, you're lying to me. Now just tell me what's going on."
Zane turned and walked towards her, stopping only a foot from her. She had gotten used to his intimidating presence, but now the intensity of his glare gave even her pause.
"It's none of your business. Now will you please just leave me alone?"
Alexis hesitated, but gave. "Fine." She turned her back to him and stalked away, leaving him staring after her. He felt the bitter sting of remorse, but told himself that she'd driven him to it. He'd warned her to just leave him alone. But still she pressed on, until he had no choice but to drive her off. He needed to think this over, and there was nothing she could do even if she did know, except realize what a horrible person he was. He still had one friend, and if he had to keep her away to keep her, then so be it.
Just like Syrus.
He was so young. But it was more than that. He was innocent. He'd done nothing to deserve this. It wasn't his fault he had a monster for a brother, who abandoned him just to resist the temptation. What cruel force of fate had brought the two of them together, in the same family? To let one become the best, and have the other fall so short, that it set them so far apart?
And the distance killed them both, no matter how close they stood. Syrus wanted his brother to love him, but surely he couldn't want the kind of love Zane felt for him.
Zane didn't care anymore, about what this was doing to him. Whatever horrible fate must be in store for someone who felt this way, was nothing, paled into comparison by the self-loathing, and the never-ending ache of having to keep it to himself.
It wasn't as if Syrus would reject him. He might have gotten bolder in their time apart, but he was still the same person. Still deprived of his brother's love. He probably would have accepted it in any form, no matter how wrong or how low it was.
But that didn't mean he would enjoy it.
And that was just it. Zane knew how far he had fallen. Feelings of lust so strong they kept him up at night, but he wouldn't, for the world or anything in it, let himself hurt Syrus that way. He was already so wounded by the rejection, imagine if he found out his other option, something that would damage the both of them beyond repair. He wasn't just in love with him- he truly loved him as well.
Zane could go down by himself, but there was no way in hell he would take Syrus down with him.
"Syrus."
Jaden sat up in bed, eyes still closed. It was so dark, what was the point of opening them? To see nothing in front of him?
He smiled to himself. To save his own life, he couldn't remember how he'd come to wake with the other boy's name on his lips. But whatever it had been, it had probably been a pleasant dream.
Question was, how long had he been asleep? The whole day had been such a blur to him, the concept of set times and dates seemed almost foreign to him. But who cared what time it was? Syrus had probably alreayd gotten back in, and was fast asleep in his bed.
Jaden may have always been the last one to wake, but only because he was the last one to fall asleep. He thought back on all the nights he had spent just watching Syrus sleep. He looked like an angel, so calm and peaceful, nothing like he was during the day. Without his delicate features ruined by worry, he was even more beautiful.
And tonight, he thought, grinning, he had the perfect excuse to watch over him.
Quietly, so as not to wake either of his friends, he eased himself out of bed, and put one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. Pulling himself up, he rested his arms on the side of the bed, and shifted his weight onto it to keep his balance.
He'd gone through the motions so many times, he could do it without even thinking about it. And he didn't think about it at all until he noticed.
Syrus wasn't there.
His sheets were still tangled at the foot of the bed, and there was no sign that he'd gone to bed at all. Was he still at the outhouse? It couldn't be taking this long to treat his cuts, could it?
"Chumley. Chumley, wake up." No response. Jaden climbed further up the ladder, and pressed the heel of his hand hard into his room-mate's back. He hated to be so rude, but this was an emergency, for all he knew.
"What? What's going on?" Chumley turned over, and discovering his attacker to be Jaden, let out his breath and resisted the urge to kick him in the face. "Come on, Jaden, I was sleeping. What did you do that for?"
"Did you see Syrus come in?"
"You mean tonight?"
Jaden frowned. "No, Chumley, last Thursday. Of course tonight!"
"Geez, sor-ry. No, I didn't. Why?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But I'm just really worried about him. He's been having some problems with his brother, and--"
"He tried to kill himself."
Jaden paused. "Um... yeah. How did you know that?"
"When I got in, there was blood all over the floor. I figured there was too much of it to have been an accident, and I didn't think you would do anything like that."
"Wait--so you came in, saw blood all over the place, figured that one of your friends tried to commit suicide... and you went to sleep?"
Looking kind of ashamed, Chumley replied, "Yeah... but I was really tired, and I guess I didn't think about it..."
"Well, it's too late to worry about that now. The point is, he was in the bathroom cleaning his cuts, and he hasn't come back yet. I sort of dozed off, but still, it can't be taking him this long."
He stood with one foot, feeling for the floor with the other, until he found it and let himself drop from the ladder.
"All right, thanks anyway. I'm going to go look for him. Uh... you can go back to sleep if you want."
Chumley was already a step ahead of him, turned back to the wall and fast asleep.
Jaden knew he should have been more annoyed with him for taking his advice seriously, but in a strange way, he was actually kind of relieved. This way, he could search for Syrus by himself, and immerse himself fully in the growing panic and dread that was beginning to close in around him. He needed to be by himself, at least until he found Syrus. It would be enough time, because he knew that the mere sight of his friend safe and sound would put an end to this vague fear that choked him.
He knew it was ridiculous. Why would he try to kill himself again? He'd made peace with Zane. He had seemed fine.
He'd thought before that he had nothing to live for. And now, he had nothing to die for.
He needed to be alone. No matter how he tried to reason with himself, tell himself that everything was all right, something deep inside him told him otherwise. The constant 'what if' that led Syrus to always expect the worst now resonated within him. He just couldn't manage to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about.
He needed time to think. There was so much to think about.
Hadn't Syrus suffered enough? Hadn't Jaden?
It seemed self-centered to think about how much pain he was in, when Syrus had been the one who was ready to die to escape it.
But losing Syrus, to him, would have been death. Possibly worse. Having to survive his friend, live without him, try to continue on with a life in which the thing he cared about most was a card game. He enjoyed dueling. It was one of his favorite things in the world. But it seemed like nothing compared to Syrus.
Syrus... who was a living, breathing person. Who thought that nobody knew he was. Nobody but Jaden. Who had thought himself so worthless and lowly that even Jaden wouldn't miss him. He'd been so wrong. It was a mistake he'd nearly taken his own life in making.
When he'd held him in his arms, the broken and bloodied form of someone who was prepared to die, and leave his miserable and empty life, he felt more than the tremors and shaking of loss of blood. He felt more than the painful way his small frame had convulsed with his sobs.
He felt the grief and heartache that came from being abandoned and unloved. This was someone who cared so deeply for the two people that even recognized him as a person, with a broken heart and a tortured soul, that he would rather die than stand in their way. He thought his life meaningless, and a small price to pay for the happiness of his brother and friend.
It had been all Jaden could do to hold him together, to keep him from slipping back to the floor and possibly into death. He'd held maybe a little tighter than was necessary, but he wanted Syrus to feel it, past the numbed exterior, and inside of him. To get through the message that he was wanted in this world, if only by one person.
And it had been enough.
But still Jaden had insisted upon him standing up to Zane. Behind the closed door, they appeared to have reconciled. Zane loved Syrus, and Sryus loved Zane. Problem solved, mission accomplished.
Wasn't it?
Jaden had no idea what had gone on in Zane's room. How did he know Zane hadn't done something else--something worse--that would silence his younger brother? Make him lie, just to have him forgive Zane?
To give Jaden peace of mind.
He shook his head. That couldn't be true. Just because it sounded exactly like something Syrus would do didn't mean that he had done it.
The door to the outhouse was already unlatched. Unsure of what he would find, Jaden pushed it open slowly.
The light was off, and Jaden ran his hand along the wall for the switch. Finally finding it, he pushed it up, and the room was flooded with light.
Nobody was there.
He felt himself begin to shake. Syrus should have been here. Or at least, if he'd already left, Jaden should have run into him on the way.
Unless, of course, he hadn't gone back to the dorm.
But why wouldn't he? Where else would he go?
Zane's place? Jaden shook his head. No way. Why would he go back again? Wasn't it enough that he'd already made up with him? He wouldn't go back again the same night, would he?
He turned to leave, already feeling sick. But as he did, something caught his eye. He stared at it a moment, and when it struck him as to what it was, he felt as though he was going to be ill.
Syrus' blazer, laying on the floor.
What was it doing there? More importantly, Syrus should have been there wearing it. But he was gone, and had left it behind.
He obviously wasn't in there, so that meant that he had left. Gone out into the pitch-black night without even his jacket to keep him warm. Where on earth was he, and why had he taken off his blazer to go there?
No, it couldn't be... not again. Why would he? Wasn't he happy now? He knew he was loved. Things between him and Zane were better. What possible reason could he have to try it again?
Jaden seized the blazer and clutched it to his chest. He turned out the light and slammed the door behind him.
He didn't know where to begin looking, or even what he would find. If he was right... what if he was too late? Perhaps he didn't even want to find Syrus. The very thought made his stomach lurch violently. Coming across his lifeless body... empty of a soul that nobody else even realized had been there at all.
Jaden took off, not knowing exactly where he was going, and in all honesty not really caring, as long as Syrus was there. Who knew how long it had been? What if it was too late?
Jaden blinked, trying to fight the stinging at the back of his eyes.
He couldn't let it be too late.
Syrus had always hated the cold. He got sick, at least twice every winter. Laid up in bed, sometimes so sore and tired he fought sleep, fearing that if he let himself lose consciousness he might not wake up again.
But now he loved the cold. He embraced it as it embraced him, seeping into every pore of his skin. Filling his lungs so that it hurt to breath. Threatening to turn his tears to ice, and blind him. The cold assured him that he wasn't going to wake up again.
It turned the raindrops to ice. Snow fell lightly around him. It became a white haze around him, carried by the strong winds in different directions at once. It didn't matter anyway. Black or white, whatever erases the color from the sight of the blind.
Syrus didn't want to see anymore.
Jaden would miss him. He'd probably be heart-broken. But he would get over it, like Zane did. The thought of losing his little brother had driven him mad. Someone he'd known, and apparantly loved, for most of his life.
But he'd only met Jaden that year. Surely Syrus didn't mean that much to him, not this soon, anyway. Maybe he did love him. Maybe he had kissed him. But so had Zane, and Zane wanted him gone. Their bond had been broken that easily, and they were brothers.
So his bond with Jaden could be broken even easier.
He hated to cause him any trouble. But in the long run, he was better off this way, without Syrus to hold him back. Burden him with his problems. Just so he could leave one day and forget about him.
He couldn't lie to himself anoymore. Zane had been right. Even the closest friendships saw the day when one person or the other grew up and went on to something more important than the loser who wasn't good enough to get that far.
It was so cold, or at least Syrus imagined that it had to be. He couldn't feel anything anymore, except the ever-present ache inside of him that the coldest winds and the deepest night couldn't numb. The water soaked into his shirt was beginning to freeze, and had he kept still, would have frozen his own arms around him. It was a useless defense against the cold, but that was what he wanted.
He wanted to feel Jaden's arms around him again, to feel the warmth of his embrace slowly sinking into him.
But it was all wrong. He knew the initial grief that Jaden would feel, and if that was what would happen, he didn't want to see Jaden again, to see him suffer that way. To draw the cold out of him, Jaden would have to exchange it for his warmth. Syrus would have to live with the guilt of burdening him that way.
It just wasn't worth the sacrifice to save his worthless life.
