This is the chapter where ALL the suspense starts. You have been forewarned.
I own nothing except a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.
Collins sat on the subway and tried to read some of the essays that were turned in. He could barely concentrate with Connor's words floating around in his mind. He wasn't sure what he should do about the situation. He knew Angel wouldn't be happy to hear that the boy had claimed to be in love with him. She would be put in the position of choosing to help Connor or turn away from him. Collins knew that he and Angel couldn't just ignore the fact that his student needed help. He sighed as the subway stopped and he got off.
Walking at a slowed pace, he thought of not telling Angel at all. If he and Connor just kept what was said between them, he could deal with it quietly. Then there was the issue of the kiss. There was no way his conscience would let him keep that from Angel. But what would happen when he told her? Would she kick Connor out? What if Connor had already told her? What if the two of them were sitting on the couch with angry thoughts in their heads waiting for him to walk through the door?
He soon made it to the apartment building and decided he'd better not delay whatever was going to happen. He quickly walked up the three flights of stairs and made his way to the door of his apartment. The first thing he saw upon stepping inside was Connor. The boy was asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over him. There was a small mug on the coffee table. Collins immediately sensed Angel's motherly instincts had kicked in after he'd called.
"Hey, honey," Angel greeted him, emerging from the kitchen. She spoke in a soft voice so she didn't disturb Connor. "How was your day?"
"Long," Collins replied, placing his briefcase on the floor. He shut the door behind him quietly as Angel gave him a peck on the lips. He smiled at her before turning his attention to Connor. Angel followed his gaze.
"He was really upset when he came back here," she said. Collins looked at her.
"Did he say what he was upset about?" he asked. Angel shook her head. "Was he mad, sad?"
"Sad. He looked like he wanted to cry. I think he was just upset about the nightmare he had."
"How did you get him to fall asleep?"
"I made him some hot tea and sang to him. The poor thing was afraid to close his eyes, but once he did, he was gone. He's been asleep for about four hours now." Collins nodded. It was clear that Connor hadn't said anything yet, but that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't. "I really hope everything goes well."
"So do I."
"No . . . don't . . ." Connor mumbled, fidgeting on the couch. He seemed to be trying to get something away from him. Angel and Collins exchanged looks. They walked to the couch and stood over Connor as he became still, his arms at his sides.
"I think he's having the nightmare again," Angel commented. She shook him. "Connor? Connor, wake up." The boy's eyes remained closed and he didn't move. Angel shook him a bit harder. She got no response. "Honey, I can't wake him up."
"Please . . . stop . . ." Connor continued. Collins tried shaking him as Angel had.
"Connor?" he said. Connor kept still.
"Why won't he wake up?" Angel asked. Her voice had a panicked edge to it. Collins shrugged his shoulders. Suddenly, Connor began flailing around and screaming.
"Get him off of me!" he cried. "Professor, please get him off of me! Help me! Please! Professor, help me!" Collins sat on the edge of the couch, pulled Connor into an upright position, and held his arms to his sides. Angel watched him with widened eyes.
"Connor!" he shouted. "Connor, you have to wake up!"
"Help! Get him off of me!"
"Connor, open your eyes!" Connor's eyes snapped open and he began hyperventilating. "Connor, breathe slower. Take deep breaths." The eighteen-year-old tried his best to steady his breathing. "In and out, in and out. Angel, could you get him some water or something?" The drag queen rushed to the kitchen.
"Professor . . ." Connor said between gasps. Collins shushed him.
"Don't speak," he told the boy, removing his hands from his arms. "Just breathe." Connor did as he was instructed. Angel soon came out of the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand.
"Here, sweetie," she said, holding the glass out to Connor. The eighteen-year-old slowly took the glass out of Angel's hand and took a sip of the water. "You were having the nightmare again, weren't you?"
"Yes, but it was . . . different," Connor replied.
"How so?"
"Well, usually I'm twelve again and in my mother's room, but . . . this time I was eighteen and in this apartment." Connor placed the glass on the coffee table.
"What exactly happened in the nightmare?"
"I was asleep and I felt someone touching my legs . . . I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. Then the person kissed me on the cheek. I opened my eyes and I saw the man . . . he climbed on top of me. He held me down and I . . . I couldn't get him off of me. Then he . . . started undressing me. I screamed and called for Professor Collins to help me because I couldn't fight him . . . he was too strong." Connor looked down at his hands.
"Did anything happen after that?"
"He put one of the couch pillows over my face to stop me from screaming . . . then I woke up. I was so scared."
"Everything's okay now, sweetheart."
"That man undoubtedly has no idea Angel and I even exist," Collins told his student. "He can't hurt you anymore, Connor." The phone then rang. Angel crossed the room, picked up the cordless phone receiver, and put it to her ear.
"Hello?" she said pleasantly. She smiled. "Hi, Mimi! Hold on a sec."
The drag queen put the phone to her shoulder and walked toward the bedroom, winking at Collins as she passed him. He watched her and chuckled. He figured Mimi was helping her plan something special for him. She always did things like that. Collins looked at Connor, who was still staring at his hands. After a while, the professor stood up, walked to the door, and picked up his briefcase. He and Connor then stared at each other for a long while before the older of the two left the room.
Connor sat on the couch and thought. In his mind, he and Collins belonged together. They were both interested in a lot of the same subjects, they were both intellectuals. It just made sense to the young student that they should be in a relationship. But, of course, the professor's heart was with Angel. She'd won it by saving his life. It soon became apparent to Connor what he had to do if he wanted to be with Collins.
If saving his life is what it takes, then saving his life is what I'll do, he thought.
"Have a good break, Professor," several students told Collins as they left the classroom. The professor smiled and kept his attention on the essay he was grading. As promised, everyone who hadn't turned their assignment in had done so while walking into the room. He was nearly finished grading every essay that had been turned in. Glancing at the pile of tests on the edge of his desk, he decided he would stay later so he could get them graded and have nothing to do except love Angel. He smiled at the thought of it.
"You didn't tell her," he heard Connor say. His voice sounded slightly surprised. Collins took his reading glasses off, dropped the essay he was grading on his desk, and sighed.
"No," he said, looking up at Connor. "No, I didn't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to drag her into this. I don't want her to have mixed feelings about helping you because of what you said."
"Do you have mixed feelings about helping me?"
"No."
"Then how do you know Angel would? She seems to be just as kind as you are."
"People can be unpredictable." Collins put his glasses back on and picked up the essay he had dropped.
"Angel told me how you two met."
"And?" Collins continued to read the essay.
"I think it's very romantic. She saved your life and you fell in love." There was a silence. "Tell me something, Professor. If you weren't with Angel, would you have kissed me back?" Collins looked up at the eighteen-year-old.
"No."
"You didn't even have to think about that, did you?"
"Not at all. Connor, you are my student."
"That shouldn't matter. Love is love. I love you, Professor, and I know we'd be perfect for each other."
"You have no idea what you're saying right now, Connor. You haven't even met anyone else besides me. That's the only reason you think you're in love with me."
"I don't think I'm in love with you, I know I am."
"Dammit, Connor, stop saying that! You're not in love with me and I'm sure as hell not in love with you! Get it through your head right now!" Connor stared at his professor for a moment before dropping his gaze to the floor.
"You're angry." The boy spoke softly. Collins sighed.
"I'm not angry, I'm just frustrated."
"'Frustrated?'"
"Yes. You're putting me in an extremely compromising position and it frustrates me to no end. Connor, I don't want to hurt you or break your heart, but you're not giving me much of a choice. I am in love with Angel, not you. She is the love of my life and you are my student. That is all you will ever be. Do you understand?" Connor gave a slight nod. "Good."
Collins went back to grading essays as Connor slowly made his way toward the door. When he reached it, he turned back around to face his professor.
"I'll be out of your way for the duration of spring break, Professor," he informed him. Collins looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"I told you it's okay for you to stay in my apartment," he stated.
"I know, but I sort of have a tradition. Every year, I go to my safe house for spring break."
"'Safe house?'"
"It's a small cottage in Vermont that my parents don't know about. I go there every spring break to be alone. I like it there. No one can hurt me."
"Okay, if that's what you want."
"It is. See you in two weeks, Professor." Connor left the room without saying another word.
Collins spent the rest of his classes and about three hours after the last one ended grading essays and tests. He was getting sick of the task, but it had to be done. He didn't want anything to stand in the way of his alone time with Angel. He smiled as he thought about his lover. Thinking about her seemed to make time fly by and his grading was finished before he knew it. He picked up the phone receiver and dialed the number to his apartment, starting to put the now graded papers into his briefcase.
"Hello?" Angel's voice came.
"Hey, baby," Collins said. "I just wanted to let you know I'm finished grading all the essays and tests and I'm packing up as we speak."
"That's great, honey!"
"I can't wait for two whole weeks alone with you."
"Same here. Oh, wait. What about Connor?"
"He told me he wants to spend spring break alone in his safe house."
"What's a safe house?"
"A house in Vermont where he feels safe. According to him, he goes there every spring break."
"Oh. Well, does he have our number in case he needs anything?"
"Yes."
"Good. When do you think you'll be home?"
"A half hour or so, depending on how the subways are running tonight."
"I'll be waiting. I love you."
"I love you, too, baby. I'll see you soon." Collins hung up the phone, closed his briefcase, and picked it up.
He turned the lights off before leaving the room. Angel remained on his mind as he walked through hallways and eventually out of the building, saying goodnight to fellow professors he passed. It was dark and chilly outside, but Collins didn't let that get to him. He casually walked through the parking lot, glancing at a car behind him as it started. The car revved as he continued to walk. He looked over his shoulder and saw the car hadn't moved. He thought nothing of it, looking ahead of him. He then heard the car's tires screech and the car rammed into him before he even had time to think. The car sent him flying a few feet in the air. His briefcase fell from his hand and he felt an unbelievable amount of pain as he landed on his left leg on the cold, hard ground. The silhouette of a person holding some sort of pipe walking toward him was the last thing he saw before he was knocked unconscious.
Collins opened his eyes and sat up slowly. His head was throbbing and a sharp pain shot through his leg. As he tried to recall what had happened to him, he realized he was lying in a bed in a room he had never seen before. The room was brightly lit by a small lamp on the bedside table and had a private bathroom in it. He looked at his leg. It was in a plaster cast. He winced in pain as he tried to move it. Closing his eyes, he forced himself not to cry.
"Oh, good," a familiar voice said. "You're awake." Collins immediately opened his eyes and they landed on Connor's face.
"Connor?" he said. "Where am I? What happened?"
"Don't worry about a thing, Professor." The boy smiled at Collins. "I'm going to take good care of you."
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