Disclaimer: I still don't own The Following or any of the characters therein. My only beta is moscato, and she's kind of a fickle bitch.
Obviously, still rated for language.
I hope you all enjoy. Let me know if you think I'm doing wlel on the voices of our favorite Followers.
I saw I got a few Favorites and Followers myself (lololol) and that lit the fire under my ass. But don't worry, I don't hold chapters hostage waiting for comments. If I did, I wouldn't even write. Hah. Ha. Okay. No more wine. Or verbosity. Here's the chapter.
Paul was half asleep when Jacob went back in, and the only sound in the cabin besides Paul's even breathing was the creaking of floorboards as Jacob tried to walk quietly towards him.
Jacob reached the couch and stared for a minute, so lost in his own thoughts that he jumped visibly when Paul's hand landed on his knee.
"Lay down with me?" Paul asked, the quiet of the moment allowing his vulnerability to show through. Though, Jacob reminded himself, Paul had opened himself up to Jacob in a way he knew he never had with anyone else. He always allowed his vulnerabilities to be displayed when they lived in their happy house of cards.
Paul's hand drifted up to Jacob's hip, and with a slight tug Jacob allowed himself to be pulled into a sitting position on the edge of the couch.
Their eyes connected in the moonlight that drifted in through the slants in the blinds, and Jacob couldn't tell anyone, including himself, why he suddenly felt the urge to start crying like a lost child.
"We're gonna make it through this." Paul's voice was as soft and reverent as his warm palm was against Jacob's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere." He thought if he said the words enough, they would become solidified facts.
He sat up slightly and Jacob met him to kiss away the grimace that formed.
"I know," he whispered, nudging Paul to make some room for him so that he could lie down on the couch without putting pressure on Paul's abdomen.
They lay together, both drifting, and just after Jacob fell asleep Paul whispered regretfully, "Until Joe says it's time."
The shrill ringing of the cell phone jolted them awake. Jacob reached for it but headed it to Paul when he saw it was Doctor Tarr, who was not a person Jacob got along with well. The baleful, pretentious, egotistical bastard was too much for Jacob to handle. He was usually a people person but the Doctor and Paul were more on each other's level, menacing in ways Jacob almost envied. They had both obviously killed before, and Jacob felt like the Doctor somehow knew he hadn't and looked down on him for it.
"See ya then," Paul was saying when Jacob tuned back in. "Alright, I'll keep the phone nearby. The car is all set up, and we've had a lot of practice at living out of bags. You give the okay; we'll be ready to move."
After hanging up Paul stood slowly and laboriously, swatting away Jacob's hand as he attempted to help Paul steady himself.
"I need to learn to move on my own. Anyway, that's the hardest position to get up from. I'm just a little stiff," Paul explained as he stretched languidly, but he had to pause when he caught the sparkle in Jacob's eyes. Paul chuckled and Jacob, for once, allowed himself to go with the moment.
They moved in towards each other, Jacob's grasp on Paul's waist hesitant but needy, as Paul slipped his hands under the back of Jacob's shirt, leeching the warmth from his skin like blood soaked into a bandage.
Before either one of them knew what was happening the room temperature seemed to rise exponentially until they landed on a couch with a thud that jarred Paul.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Jacob started stuttering out, pulling himself away as Paul lifted his shirt to reveal the bandages, which he had changed himself with shaky hands just 12 hours earlier. The bandages that had been the cathartic for his freak out the night before; they were absolute proof of the dangers of their situation, and when he'd been faced again with Paul's mortality, the weight had seemed too heavy.
But Paul merely shrugged, pulled his shirt bag down, and reached for Jacob.
"Soon I'll be healed," he whispered, before pulling Jacob in for one more passionate kiss. "Until then, we just need to be careful."
"I dunno what came over me," Jacob mumbled as he pulled away, already having forgotten his resolution to follow Paul to the ends of the earth now that the steady light of day was casting itself harshly throughout the apartment.
"I wish you would just… feel," Paul said, frustrated at this endless loop they seemed to be stuck in. And if it hadn't been for his damn wounds they would've been able to get lost in the moment, before Jacob could let his conscious mind catch up to his actions. Just another reason Paul would need to exact revenge on Hardy… once Joe was done with him, of course; and if he made it through the upcoming melee.
Jacob ran his fingers through his hair and then over his face, trying to jostle his thoughts back into place, but by the time he came up for air Paul had moved himself into the bathroom, and when Jacob checked the door was locked. It was the first time Paul had ever locked him out, and it almost knocked the wind out of him.
Paul heard the twisting of the doorknob. "Tarr will be here soon, you should check that we got out everything out of the car. I'll be out soon if you want to shower," he pulled off the bandages.
"We checked the car already. Let me in there. Please, Paul," Jacob's voice cracked as he laid his forehead against the door.
"I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS!" Paul yelled, looking up to realize he had smashed his fist into the mirror.
"Last night," Jacob began, fighting the lump in his throat, "I made myself come to terms with the fact that I've always lost everything that mattered to me. Everything just crumbles away, or leaves, or is bled dry. My parents and innocence, my sanity… Emma. But you've stuck by me. Through every struggle and up and down of this rollercoaster, you have remained by my side. Not just that, but you actually LOVE me. You look through all of my bravado and the luster I paint on the confidence I pretend to exude. You see through all of it and you know where it comes from and you haven't turned away yet. You haven't deemed me too weak to stick by, like Emma obviously did. You love me, all of me, and I guess that includes the fact that I'm a goddamn coward who hasn't given you a single reason for this loyalty."
After banging his forehead softly against the door to stave off his tears of vexation, Jacob headed towards the front door until he heard the 'click' of the bathroom door lock. He turned around and locked eyes with Paul, but their moment was shattered when they heard the sound of wheels on gravel.
Doctor Tarr had arrived.
"Jacob, why don't you go dump the car where I showed you on the map. Here. Take it with you. I'll check up on Paul and once you're back we'll head towards the meeting house."
Two minutes after his arrival and Doctor Tarr had taken total control. He pointed Paul back to the couch with a scolding for being on his feet, and directed Jacob to get Paul some water so he could take a painkiller. A real one, since Paul had new cuts in his hand and he'd be doing a more in depth examination of the knife wounds.
Or so Paul thought. He'd trusted Tarr and taken the pills, but once Jacob left he started suspecting the drugs were little more than a tool to wear down Paul's inhibitions. Apparently Tarr had a private task to burden Paul with.
"I'm not sure he has what it takes for the oncoming storm," the doctor explained as he prodded Paul's exposed abdomen, checking the sutures and the areas surrounding them. Paul winced, but more from disgust than pain. He couldn't stand that this man whom was encouraging him to betray the most important person in his life was touching him with his slimy, cold hands. Hands that could turn right around and wring the life out of both Paul and Jacob, of that Paul had no doubt.
"I think he's a lot stronger than we've realized yet," Paul replied, wanting to sound as unbiased and detached as possible. "He held up through the raid on the farm, got me here and contacted you."
"And he was a right mess when I arrived, if I remember correctly. Covered in blood and nearly in shock right along with you. He's too soft. Quite malleable, that's for sure, but he's a piece of clay that will still fall apart even after it's been put in the oven. What happens if he makes it through and ends up in the grips of the authorities. According to Emma –"
"That bitch has no idea what Jacob can handle. She fucking abandonded us at the farm –"
"Because you were BOTH purportedly falling apart. But I know you're stronger than that. You've just invested too much emotion into that boy."
Tarr looked steadily at Paul, who was fighting against the relaxing effects of the drug as hard as he could. Tarr had been his guide into Joe's arms. Tarr, whose real name escaped Paul in this moment, had been the psychiatrist he'd been forced to see through the juvenile courts all those years ago. Though they'd lost touch after Paul's last appointment when he was seventeen, somehow Tarr had found his contact information and brought him into Joe's growing family and the comfort of a home. So Paul, who may only care about Jacob, still felt indebted to Doctor Tarr and all that he had given him.
"I won't turn my back on him," Paul stated, firmly. When the doctor tisked him and took in a breath, he continued swiftly. "I won't betray him, but if I find him to be a burden… if he isn't able to do what needs to be done –"
"Which includes protecting you in case of emergency; you won't be in fighting condition for another week, at least," the Doctor interrupted, and he validated himself by nudging Paul in just the right spot for the pain to radiate to his hollow, twisted stomach, which roiled dangerously.
"He'd protect me. He'd sacrifice himself for me. And if he doesn't, then I'll die knowing he did all that he was capable of doing." Paul spoke through gritted teeth, his mouth watering in his nausea.
"Which isn't much. Now, now Paul. I thought you were just going to agree that there may be a situation in which Jacob will have to be sacrificed for your own wellbeing. If he cannot do what he needs to do, if he cannot protect you, you will rid yourself of his burden and you will do what comes naturally; save yourself."
Paul knew disagreeing would just result in the doctor illustrating, again, his current weakened state and just how vulnerable he was. He nodded his head because if he opened his mouth he might vomit or sob, and he couldn't risk either.
Not in front of this man.
"Good. Ah, speak of the devil," Tarr's tone became jovial, and Paul wanted to punch him for the mockery he could detect in it. Could no one see the Jacob he saw?
"Car's gone. That was a nice little walk you sent me on. What if someone saw me?" Jacob was sweaty and covered in a layer of dirt, even had a few scratches on his face from stray branches. He hadn't walked so much as run back to the cabin after ditching the car in what Tarr had claimed was a 'nearby' pond.
"Your gun isn't just for decoration, Jake. And that attachment, it's called a silencer." Tarr's sarcasm was dripping with condescension and Paul was glad he was drugged, because the doctor was too valuable to be killed. Yet.
"Don't... my name is Jacob. And I know what it's called, thanks. I just – I thought we didn't want to attract attention," Jacob stammered. He looked to Paul for assistance, but he had the back of his hand pressed to his forehead and his eyes squeezed shut, all the while he seemed to be taking deep, soothing breaths. "What's wrong with him?" Jacob queried, his tone just this side of accusatory but mainly full of concern.
"His wounds are still a bit delicate, but no worries; the scar tissue will form, making him even stronger than he was before. Built for what is to come."
Paul was tuning out the exchange, trying to breathe out the toxins of Tarr's words and allow the painkiller to bring him into a different headspace. He had never really liked drugs, but if it could help him forget all that the doctor had said, all that seemed to be expected of him and at what price, he'd gladly down a few dozen more.
"And what is to come?"
Until Jacob asked the one question he'd been avoiding. Would he and Jacob not get a single moment alone, just one minute of peace, to experience each other one more time with every layer peeled away…
The doctor turned fully towards Jacob, finally deigning him with eye contact.
"We're going on a trip."
Next and final installment should be out soon. Until then, thank you for reading, you guys are amazing!