Author's Note: Hello and welcome back! Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but I can promise it won't happen again. I have finished the story as far as I would like to take it and plan on posting the remaining few chapters every other day until the story's conclusion. Please enjoy this latest installment, and just as a warning - this is where the slash begins to get somewhat unavoidable. If you did not sign on for that sort of thing, this is most likely the last chapter you will be able to enjoy.

PS - to my lovely reviewer, liddlepierat: Will wasn't flirting with Nan at all; rather, he was posturing. Will's whole issue is that he is so incredibly jealous of Nan (both as someone who might once have been Jem's parabatai, and as someone whom he suspects of being Jem's paramour) that he becomes ridiculously incapable of thinking rationally. Rather than do the logical thing, of course, and simply talk to Jem about his issue, Will gets possessive and immature and aggressive. His intensity at dinner was him challenging Nan, not flirting with him (though that certainly would have been an interesting route to take the story, lol). Anyhow, thank you so much for your faithful reviews and I look forward to hearing from you in the future!

It was Thomas who woke him, trying to push open the bedroom door that was held closed by the dead weight of a fully grown adult male.

"Bloody hell, Thomas, you might have given a little warning!" Will groaned as he rolled away from the assault.

"My apologies," Thomas said, and kindly refrained from mentioning Will's peculiar sleeping arrangements. "But Master Jem and his guest have broken their fast and are ready to depart – they were wondering if it was still your intention to accompany them into town?"

Will rubbed at his temples and tried to discreetly kick last night's empty flask out of sight. "Already? What time is it?"

"Coming up on nine o'clock, sir."

Will cursed bitterly and scrambled to his feet. Of course: the one night he was able to sleep a full eight hours and it was the one morning he could not have afforded to. "Ten minutes," he commanded, casting about for a clean shirt while simultaneously trying to smooth his hair with a palm, "tell Jem I'll be down in ten minutes!"

When Will finally rushed from his room it was with a wrinkled shift and hair that still stuck up in the back. He forced himself to slow down at the top of the stairs, tried to look casually disinterred as he descended. But Jem was standing at the bottom in the grey jacket that made his eyes flash silver when he turned them on Will, and Will had to focus on each and every step lest he trip and fall down the length of the staircase to sprawl at Jem's feet.

"Good morning, Will," Jem said, smiling cordially. "I hope we haven't rushed you; we thought we'd get an early start."

"Not at all," Will said, stealthily eyeing the stranger at Jem's shoulder. He was smiling politely, so Will smiled wider. "I quite agree. There is much to see, and only so many hours of daylight in which to see it."

If Jem was surprised at Will's good manners, he did not let it show. Will took his hat from Thomas and donned it with a flourish.

"Shall we?"

London seemed to be at her best that early autumn morning. Will smiled to step from the carriage in Trafalgar Square and see the sun shining upon his favorite city. The dappled clouds cast restless shadows on passerby out about their weekend business, and the breeze blew just strongly enough to ripple the grey expanse of the Thames.

"Well," Will said, gesturing to the commotion round about, "what would your friend like to see first?"

Jem did not need to ask Nan Will's question, so clearly they had discussed it on some previous occasion. "He had expressed an interest in seeing parliament."

Will's face fell instantly. "Parliament?" he asked, looking from Jem to Nan and then back again. "Your friend comes half way across the world to the very heart of the British Empire … and he wants to see parliament?"

Jem's mouth turned down to mirror Will's frown. "Honestly, Will, what did you think? That we'd be taking a tour of your favorite nighttime establishments? A city is not valued by the quality and quantity of its various bars and brothels."

The words hurt, even if Jem hadn't intended to be particularly malicious. "No," he backtracked, determined not to sour the day so soon, "I just thought-"

But Nan interrupted him with a question in Mandarin and a hand on Jem's arm. Jem nodded at him and then said to Will, with something of a sad smile: "We're going the tourist route today, I'm afraid. If you're uninterested, you might have Thomas take you back. I wouldn't want you to have wasted your day on our account."

Will smiled, tried to be as genuine as he could. "Nonsense," he said, "We will see anything and everything Nan wishes to see. And afterwards, I hope you will allow me to treat you both to dinner."

Jem smiled, but Will could not tell if it were sincere…

The rest of the afternoon was a mind-numbing parade of museums, monuments, and mansions. They saw Big Ben, the Tower, parliament, Piccadilly, and Buckingham Palace. By the end of it all, Will's jaw ached from the polite smile he had held suspended there all afternoon. He had followed behind wherever Jem and Nan led. He tried not to pay attention to the way the crowds parted before the two beautiful Oriental boys – one light and one dark – speaking an exotic language and looking for all the world like lesser gods walking among mere mortals. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he had once imagined himself as half of such a divine pair.

When finally they stepped from Westminster and back into the swiftly sinking sun, Nan said something to Jem and Jem turned to Will. "Nan wonders when we'll be breaking for supper?"

Will was a little startled at being addressed after having been ignored for so much of the afternoon. "Right," he said, casting about for any places he knew in the vicinity. They finally settled on an hotel that Will recalled as having excellent Chicken Fricassee.

As they sipped their drinks, Will tried to make polite conversation. He asked Nan how he'd enjoyed the city, and listened with feigned interest as Jem translated the boy's responses. Then Nan touched Jem's arm, expressed some question of his own, and turned back to Will with a wide smile.

Jem chuckled and looked to Will. "He wants you to tell about yourself. He says he feels ashamed to have spent all day in your company without really knowing you at all."

Will frowned. What could he possibly say about himself? And why did Nan feel obliged to know him? "What would he like to know?" Will asked warily, while words like debauched, deplorable, and depraved floated about in his mind… "Tell him whatever you'd like, Jem, surely you would be kinder in your description than I."

Jem seemed to think a moment, then relayed his answer to Nan while the other boy listened attentively, occasionally sipping from his glass. When Jem had finished, Nan offered a few sentences in reply and Jem translated these with a smile. "He says that he is not surprised to learn of your passion for literature, as you seem to have a poet's soul."

Will scrunched up his nose. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jem laughed and brought his glass to his lips. "He said you seem to suffer strong emotions and moods … what was it? Ah, moods 'as varied as they are all-consuming."

"…Is that an insult?"

Jem sipped his drink and chuckled, a warm glow to his eyes. "I don't think so. Poetry is a revered and respected undertaking in China; poet's are thought to be more spiritual than other men."

"Oh," Will swallowed. "Right. And … what are Nan's hobbies then?"

"Nan is something of an artist," Jem said, quickly explaining to Nan what he was telling Will before continuing. "He used to paint, back in Shanghai – last night he showed me a few of his latest pieces. He is quite talented. I can show them to you, if you'd like?"

Will nodded humbly, though there was a terrible taste in his mouth. "Of course," he managed, "One is always grateful when an artist is willing to share their gift."

Jem nodded, then leaned to hear what Nan was asking him. He frowned slightly before answering him in a few short sentences.

"What?" Will asked suddenly, aware that the conversation had taken a turn. "What did he say?"

Jem waved a dismissive hand, looking obviously uncomfortable. "Nothing. It is unimportant."

Will frowned. "Tell me."

Jem sighed. "He … he wanted to know when he would get to meet my parabatai."

Will sat stunned for a moment. Not for nothing, but most people did not need telling that Will and Jem were brothers. "He didn't know that I was your parabatai? How could he not-"

"Don't get upset, Will," Jem broke in hastily, "it was simply a miscommunication. He said that he had heard so much about you, he felt certain he'd have been able to recognize you on sight."

Will looked from Jem to Nan. "Ask him what's so different about me – why don't I fit your descriptions of me. What did he think, I was just some casual acquaintance, following you about all day?"

"Will," Jem chided, "There's no need to be rude. Let it-"

"Ask him."

Jem sighed and turned to his friend, gesturing back at Will as he questioned with a serious face. When Nan answered, Jem flushed a deep red and tried to hide an embarrassed smile in his drink.

"What?" Will demanded, bewildered at Jem's blush and Nan's blank face.

"Do you really want to know?" Jem smiled.

"Obviously."

Jem sighed, fixing Will with a playful look. "He was confused because in my letters I had always described my parabatai as quite handsome."

Will's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Oh," he said, stumbling, trying to think beyond the fact that Jem thought him handsome... "And Nan … doesn't find me so?"

Jem smiled fondly, "Not particularly."

"Well I will try not to take that personally."

"Best not," Jem said, his blush cooling to an endearing pink.

Will folded and unfolded his napkin, but Jem did not scold him for fidgeting. "Does Nan have a parabatai?"

Jem looked mildly uncomfortable and Will chose to feel no pity. "Nan has elected not to choose a parabatai," he explained, "he remains unbonded."

Will nodded, and stopped himself from asking Jem to confirm what Jessamine had told him the night previous by finishing off his drink and pouring another. He offered the bottle to Jem and Nan. Jem declined but Nan nodded happily. He said something to Jem and Jem chuckled. "He says your English scotch is delicious."

Will laughed, "And I thought we had nothing in common."

Jem smiled, but cautioned quietly: "You ought to be careful, though, Will. Nan is not used to anything stronger than rice wine. He's liable to become ill."

Will frowned, "And why am I the one who needs to be careful?"

Jem looked pointedly at Nan's glass, now full almost to the brim. "You're the one doing the pouring."

But it wasn't really until they were about halfway through the meal that Will began to notice definite signs of Nan's intoxication. Will himself could feel a familiar warmth blossoming over his cheeks, but Nan began fumbling utensils and once even spilled a bit of water down his front.

"Perhaps we ought to skip dessert," Jem said, catching the eye of the waiter and suggesting he finalize their tab.

"Aw, Jem…" Will began, but Jem cut him off, abruptly serious.

"This is not the place, Will."

"Fine," Will conceded, "but surely our evening isn't over so soon? I was having such fun."

Jem rolled his eyes. Will could feel his frustration. He was definitely angry, but he was trying very hard to conceal it. "If in fact you were having fun, it was not at all for the proper reasons," he said tightly.

Will scoffed, pushing his luck. "I'm wounded, Jem. What could you possibly mean?"

"That you're not enjoying showing Nan the city, nor are you enjoying our company in the least. You are, however, enjoying showing off and getting drunk. I also suspect you're enjoying compromising Nan's integrity via strong liquor, though that is a cowardly and vile low to which I would not previously have thought you capable of stooping."

By the end of this little speech, Jem had quite worked himself up. He quickly sat back in his seat and tried to pretend he hadn't nearly lost his temper. He took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said more calmly: "I have indulged your childishness enough for one day, William. It is time to go home now. I cannot say precisely why it is that you dislike Nan, nor why you have chosen to spend your day with us given your negative inclination towards him, but this farce has gone on quite long enough."

Will bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair. He could not think of a single thing to say to refute Jem's words, unless of course he confessed the truth of the matter. But could he say that? Out loud? Tell Jem how deeply he resented Nan's intrusion into Jem and Will's world of mutually exclusive codependence? Explain to Jem how dull and dirty he felt next to Nan's exquisite posture and fine, exotic features? Confess that the thought that Jem deserved a parabatai like Nan – so much cleaner and quieter and kinder than Will himself – had haunted Will's every thought since the boy's arrival? Tell Jem that thinking about Nan as Jem's parabatai twisted Will's guts into tight, painful chords? Tell Jem that everything about Jem made Will want him, and everything about Nan made Will painfully aware of all the reasons Will could never have him?

But, of course, Will could not have confessed to any of these. Instead, he tipped his head back to swallow down the rest of his drink and then glowered across at Jem as he nodded his consent. "Fine. Whatever you say, James."

Jem pursed his lips, but would not let Will provoke him into a retort. He turned to Nan and explained that it was time to return to the Institute. Nan frowned and seemed to protest. Jem smiled at him fondly and said a few words, gesturing, in explanation, to the spot on his shirt where Nan has spilled his drink, and began to dab at the stain, almost unconsciously. Nan smiled back, apparently conceding Jem's point. Will watched the exchange in horrified silence: Jem leant forward just slightly, drying the spot of water, his fingers at Nan's collar; and Nan, smiling gratefully, his nose only millimeters away from Jem's hair, laughing with Jem about his clumsiness.

"There," Jem said, sitting back. "Are you ready, Will?"

Will took a sharp breath through his nose and nodded stiffly.

And that, of course, is precisely when everything went to hell.

Will would later blame his terrible, awful, miserable luck – as well as the fact that some higher power seemed hell-bent on ruining his life one ill-fated disaster at a time.

This is how it happened:

Will stood first, then Jem. Nan stood last and seemed to wobble. Will had often been of the opinion that you could never truly know how intoxicated you were until you stood to leave, and Nan was no exception. He wobbled, then tripped – horror in his dark eyes at his own lack of coordination – and Will watched him fall as if in slow motion. Right into Jem he fell, knocking the cane from Jem's hands and making him gasp in pain and surprise. The two of them went down, one on top of the other, right in the center of the elegant oriental rug of the restaurant's floor. Later, Will would reflect that perhaps Jem was right, perhaps his actions that night had been unwarranted. But in that moment Will saw only the look of pain on Jem's face as Nan fell on him, knocking all the breath from his lungs. He saw only an immediate threat to his parabatai's physical person. He saw only his Jem, crushed beneath the weight of another, struggling for breath with a bit of blood already blossoming on his cheek from the impact of the fall.

And he reacted.

Will lifted Nan roughly by the back of his shirt, barely registering the look of surprise and fright in the boy's eyes, and tossed him bodily a few feet away. Will heard Nan's shout and the breaking of fine china as Nan fell into a neighboring table, but he didn't care. He was at Jem's side, reaching out to steady him, to right him. But Jem turned to look at him with eyes full of shock and disappointment. "What are you doing?" he whispered. There was chaos and noise everywhere, but Will could only hear Jem's voice.

"Jem," Will began, "are you alrigh-"

"Get off me, Will." And Jem pushed himself to his feet, without Will's help. Nan appeared and offered Jem his cane, mute and repentant. Jem smiled at him in a tired, reassuring way, and Will thought his heart might have stopped beating. He watched them from his place on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

Jem looked down on him, met his eyes for a moment and then looked up and away, speaking instead to a random point on the far wall. "Please find your own way home, William," he said softly, and Will wished he had shouted.

Will watched his parabatai walk away, Nan speaking soothing words in Mandarin. It felt like the world had tipped its axis, and Will could not find his footing.