Tears From The Moon

Chapter 7. The Bells

Hear the loud alarum bells -

Brazen bells!

What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!

In the startled ear of night

How they scream out their affright!

Too much horrified to speak,

They can only shriek, shriek,

Out of tune,

In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,

In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,

Leaping higher, higher, higher,

With a desperate desire,

And a resolute endeavor

Now - now to sit, or never,

By the side of the pale - faced moon.

~The Bells, by Edgar Allen Poe

The Evening Before the Attack:

He hated the fall, and hated that the weather turned cold. In England the summers were so short, but in truth, it was the springs that lasted forever. It always rained, but now as the season changed, the weather was dry enough to welcome the sun; only to turn bitter cold at the end of the day. It was a curse really, this autumn weather, because when William inhaled the blunt of his cigarette not only did the smoke burn his lungs, but the chill in the air made his chest tight. His mother had written him over the weekend, her words as stern as his father's on how if he didn't pass this semester they would pull him from the school, but little did they know school was the last thing on his mind. However, he still met with the white haired Chinaman each day in the courtyards to study alongside him as if everything Jem said sank in, but slowly and desperately each day pushed him further from his will to go on. He would still meet Jem, but it was not to study. It was William's desire simply to be close to the soft spoken, kind hearted boy.

"You really shouldn't do that," Jem's voice broke his thoughts with that irritated hiss that made him wrinkle his nose like a kitten, and though William should have questioned him he knew it was because he was holding in the smoke—enjoying the burn like a blade through his lungs. However, when he did exhale Jem's face turned green from the sickness that plagued him from the cigarette smoke. William would have felt guilty, but at the moment this dirty habit was all he had to help him forget of the true poison that ran through his veins.

"Do what?" Will asked, but his grin came after Jem's silver eyes cast him a hateful glare. "Why does it bother you so much?" He finally asked, ashing the cherry on the table next to them, which was the last string holding together Jem's patience.

"Be-cause."Jem huffed, reaching across William to take the cancer stick from his hand, "It is bad for you." Will pulled his hand back to make Jem reach across him, and the boy practically had to climb on his lap to even come to close to snatching it, "And it is gross."

Jem pawed at William's shoulder to reach it, stretching his body until he felt the tension in his abs, "And you are not paying attention to a single word I am saying." Finally, after achieving the cigarette Jem tossed it away, and William laughed when the white haired boy even snuffed out the smoke.

"You are too much, Jin." William smiled reaching up to touch Jem's cheek, and the simple brush of his fingers brought fire to fill the boy's face. The blush was beautiful on his pale skin, but the light in his silver eyes was more than Will could take. "You care too much." He stated out of the blue, still tracing the outline of Jem's face with the tips of his fingers.

"You are right," came Jem's whisper, "I do." He felt his body shiver under the touch of the other, and leaned in to the feeling. Just the touch was erotic, but when William brushed his fingers down the sensitive part of Jem's neck; the white haired boy parted his lips in the most beautiful sigh William had ever known. He wanted to feast on that sound, devour those pale lips, and the hunger there put him in place with the wolf-Jem the lamb.

"You," William whispered leaning in to breathe in the honey scent that had haunted his very existence, but just before his lips could touch the warm skin his eyes shifted to see the university's guards start their rounds. As quickly as his touch came, it ended, and left Jem breathless. Somewhere in the contact Jem had felt himself letting go, wanting nothing more than Will to kiss him, and closed his eyes just before he was certain he would be given his first kiss. But when Jem opened his eyes when he felt William pull away, and ran a trembling hand up through his own hair to help ease his trembling hand. Very badly, he wanted to question Will as a thousand unanswered feelings rushed him, but when he parted his lips to speak he was silenced by the way William's face had paled.

The attack was violent, and William quickly stood to move away. The coughs caused his entire body to ache from the strain, and Jem noticed how they taxed him. Yet, he needed to get away before the soldiers saw him, he needed to protect Jem, but the boy was quick to follow.

"Will?" Jem tried to keep up, and when he caught hold of William's arm he was instantly taken back. The dark haired boy, who had always been rough around the edges, held his chest as the pain held control. Air came in small gasps between the coughs, but when Will pulled away they started to ease.

"William? Wait." Jem begged, but just as quickly as Will left he turned back on Jem. "William!" Jem gasped at the blood there on his shirt, and which pooled in his palm. It fell through his fingers like rain, and stained the sidewalk. "What is happening to you?"Jem asked brokenheartedly, and wanted to fall to his knees when he noticed the whites in William's eyes were as crimson as the stain now on his collar.

"Get back." Will's voice sounded so defeated, desperate to force the white haired boy away; just as he should have before, and now he was to be punished for giving in. Jem didn't stop, but finally when William's hand pressed on his chest he couldn't get any closer, "I'm fine." He lied, but Jem did notice the color returning to his face, "I'll see you tomorrow ok?"

"Will...That's not fine!" Jem's voice was close to breaking, "You are scaring me. Tell me what is going on." The guards were closer, and Will turned dangerous eyes over Jem's shoulder in worry they would notice the commotion.

"I said I was fine." William snapped, and the tone in his voice caused Jem to finally stop. Helplessly, the silver eyed boy watched as Will's attention turned away, and he brushed the back of his hand over his lips to clean the blood, "I'll see you tomorrow ok?"

"Ok," Jem said quietly watching Will walk away, "See you tomorrow." The last part was spoken to himself. William was too far gone.

Present Day:

"I don't understand," Jem spoke, still nestled beneath the professor's arm. He hadn't realized until his finger's ached that he was clinging to the fine wool of Jean-Luc's beautiful coat. The Frenchman always dressed like some stately lord, and was as decorated as any fine aristocrat. In the smoke it was easy to see what had frightened the Underground men so easily; Jean-Luc was of the sorts where his face was so beautiful it appeared as one of those mask carved of fine porcelain and painted in blood. His pale lips were outlined with his concern, but it was fear that was behind his dark eyes; and for this Jem felt guilt tug at his heart while he lowered his gaze. Jean-Luc had not spoken a single word to him their entire walk back through the University, and by now he was desperate to hear anything the Professor had to say-even if it was in French.

"Forgive me, Master St. Laurence, I did not mean to frighten you." Jem spoke so defeated, but still clung to the warmth of the man's side. He was so small compared to the Frenchman, and despite Jean-Luc's cold fingers he was warm-inviting. When Jean did not answer Jem lifted his silver eyes to study his ageless face. It made him wonder how old Jean-Luc really was; his features were flawless and youthful, but his eyes were timeless. With every little spark of light on the midnight color of his eyes, it made Jem think of a cluster of stars as if each brilliant idea had found its place in the heavens. "I fell asleep in the courtyard, and-"

"You did not know." The Frenchman's voice was a whisper, and in it there was enough pain to settle Jem's nerves Jean-Luc no longer cared, that he was angry; he did care, and perhaps too much. "It is partly my fault. I should have warned you." With that Jem turned his eyes again quickly up to the beautiful face of his Professor, and stopped in his stride.

"Don't say that, it's not your fault." Jean-Luc pulled Jem along, and the boy's steps hurried to keep up, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. That man..." Jem's voice stopped when ahead of them he saw the Raven, its large black eyes glaring at him from its perch on the iron fence that surrounded the University's clock tower, and he quickly moved to the other side of the Frenchman-furthest away from the bird. "That man you called Bane. He said something about sirens."

"Magnus," Jean-Luc corrected him, tightening his hold on the shoulder that Jem now leaned into, and though his knuckles were white, Jem noticed, it wasn't because he held too tight. Quickly, Jem's silver eyes danced again to Jean-Luc's face that masked a very real pain, and the evidence was there in the flat lines of his lips. He was not angry, he was in pain, and finally Jem realized he was without his cane. Had he been in such a hurry he had left it? Instantly, Jem leaned in further now, hugging one arm around Jean-Luc's slender waist, and the motion made a small smile curl on Jean-Luc's lips. "Thank you."

Jem was surprised at how muscular Jean-Luc was beneath all those beautiful clothes, and his entire body warmed. It was only natural to have a crush on your Professor wasn't it? Nothing real would ever come of it, but besides William this man was all he had here.

"It is an on-going war Jem, and when the battle gets too close there are sirens that keeps everyone indoors." Jean-Luc's hand tightened on Jem's shoulder as they came to the flight of stairs that would lead to the clock tower that was home to his office. "As soon as you hear them, you must find shelter. Many of the buildings are marked with safe rooms, and from there you are not to leave until the bells chime. Everything in the city is set up much the same." As they started their way up the stairs, Jem did noticed the small white cross on the stone indicating this was in fact a safe place. He had never been to Jean-Luc's office, but he knew this building well. The clock was as old as the city, and every night it chimed quietly alongside Big Ben; like a tiny echo. All of the university used this clock more so than Ben due to the mighty clock tower having been damaged during the third world war.

"But I do not understand. The war is over. Why does the military not do anything?" Jem asked feeling eyes of those who had taken refuge here on him as they passed together, "How hard would it have been to simply bomb them all today. Kill all of those people?" With that said, Jean-Luc, turned a look of surprise down to the little youth under his arm, and was instantly taken back. He had never imagined that Jem was capable of such words, but when he got a better look at Jem's coat he could see the weather faded wording of his father's name. Jem had grown up in the secluded mountains of China, how was he to know?

"What if they are the ones who are right?" Jean-Luc asked quietly as he slipped the key from his pocket to push open the old oak door that led to a room far too beautiful to ever be an office. The tall windows overlooked all of London, and now Jem knew how the Professor had known he was in trouble. Below he could see the small shadows of the rebels still on the streets; their destruction still lighting up the night. How could people so violent be right?

The tea set was still warm, and when Jean-Luc took off his coat he was quick to settle in the chair to prop his bad leg up. "Go hang your coat, and then come sit with me." A ghost of Jean's hand motioned to the chair opposite of him, and the wave of the lace cuff broke his attention. Jem turned from the window to take off his father's coat, and moved to hang it where the Frenchman's did.

The clock tower was beautiful, and where there was bookcases full of old books there was also gears and cogs far too polished to have ever belonged here. The ceiling was high as it stretched into the workings of the ancient clock, and Jem wondered when the bells chimed if the entire room would shake. The actual brass bell was outside, but still the room was so close it had to be loud. The large hands of the clock's face were shadows against the glass, but still beautiful. However, when the large wings of the raven beat in time with his heart as it landed, Jem made his way quickly to the seat opposite the Frenchman who was clearly exhausted, and it seemed even holding the tea cup was forced.

"So what makes them right? Killing all of those people?" Jem asked despite his desire to simply let the Frenchman remain in his thoughts, and though Jean's black eyes were focused outside the window Jem felt them always on him. It made him peek around the chair to see the Raven not very far now-watching.

"I never said they were right," came Jean's answer, as he leaned in to finally pour Jem some of the warm herbal tea to help ease his nerves, "To say they are right, is treason, and I would be killed on the streets for such talk." Jem looked confused, but took the cup, "I just never said they were wrong."

Jem couldn't help but continue to study the room, and was eager to know what was in so many large leather bound books. They were beautiful there with the wall sconces illuminating the gold lettering, and the various little objects of Jean's scientific profession decorating the mighty cases. Jem wanted to be a physician so badly, but he hardly had the chance to ever really get into the other side of healing. He was perfectly fine practicing what had already been studied, but it was clear Jean-Luc was more interested in finding cures that didn't exist.

"I just...I just don't understand. Killing is not the answer. All of those beautiful trees down there ruined because of their hatred, and they would have killed me too?" Jem asked searching the window and watching as the figures started to move on. "Because of my Father's coat."

"Yes. They would have. Jem, but there is so much more to it all. I would not even know where to begin, and wonder if I even should. You are so innocent, and a great part of me wants nothing more than to call your family and force them to make you go home." With that Jem's eyes sliced from the window to the man, and his anger burned through his eyes like silver melted. "But I wouldn't." Jean-Luc leaned forward to hand Jem a book that had been beside his chair, and Jem opened it slowly.

The large leather bound book was filled with old newspaper clippings, and images far more gruesome than that of the streets below. Page after page of pictures made Jem's heart ache, but it was when the image of a blonde woman who appeared to be his age, stood screaming in the streets as her father tore her away from a woman who had clearly been shot right in front of her eyes. Upon closer look Jem recognized the blonde as one of the women there in the streets today, but her face had aged with the hatred she must have felt.

"Her father shot her lover there in front of her, and later that night she had killed them all in retaliation," Jean-Luc explained, and Jem turned the page. The tears were cold on his cheeks, despite how warm Jem's skin was, and the silver water stained the pages. Each was more devastating than the past, and he had to stop when he came across a family hung on the cast iron fence; the children hardly even old enough to walk.

"Wh-why? Why were they killed like that? Who did this?" Jean-Luc started to take the book from him, but the boy clutched it to his chest as if his broken heart could heal all their pain.

"They were killed because they were Jewish, the woman because she did not love another man, and this-" Jean-Luc turned one more page to show a few obituaries, and Jem instantly recognized the man in the picture. It was one who spoke to him today, the one who dangled his own fate around on his fingers before Jean-Luc stepped in. "He is the one who started the rebellion." Jem's eyes danced over the face of an obviously younger man, who smiled in this picture, and was the very image of what it was to be carefree. However, now with his features still clear in Jem's mind, it appeared he carried all the weight of what the world rejected on his shoulders.

"But even Hilter had the decency to be desecrate. This King...just kills them on the streets." Jem looked over the obituary of Magnus once more, "It says he died three years ago." Jem furrowed his brow confused, but looked up to Jean-Luc who was as well studying the page.

"To this world, he is dead, but there in the Underground they all found life again. So this is what they fight for, and I fear greatly for what is to come." Jem did not notice that Jean-Luc was staring at him, watching his kind features studying the pages, but when Jem sighed his heart broke knowing that a great part of that innocence was fading away. Jean-Luc never thought this boy to be ignorant, but he almost hated himself for having to be the one to break the news.

"All because they are not perfect?" Jem looked up suddenly from the dusty old pages, and worried his lip between his teeth before moving the book from his lap. "I'm not perfect. Look at me. I'm a freak." He paled thinking of his white hair, and ran his thin fingers through the strands that now brushed his shoulders. On the edge of the seat Jean-Luc could now reach the boy as he extended his long fingers, and brushed back a pale strand of Jem's hair like a spider spinning through web.

"You are beautiful," Jean-Luc spoke as he touched the chin of the boy to lift his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time Jem did feel just that-beautiful. However, concern flooded his silver eyes, and the words that came next fell like cold rain from his lips. They broke Jean-Luc's heart.

"Will is very sick, Master."Jem broke from his trance, and it hardly seemed to matter when Jean-Luc's hand fell away to settle again over the carved arm of the chair. Jem pulled a paper from the breast pocket of his vest, and it was clear he was nervous about giving it to the Professor, "I think…" He worried his lip, and finally let Jean-Luc see the paper.

"I was up all night researching his symptoms. They came so suddenly. I must have been so tired I fell asleep." Sinking back in his chair Jem sighed as Jean-Luc read over the paper, and he curled into the cushion. "I don't know much about the sickness, and there isn't much out there about it." And if anyone knew what it was—Jean-Luc would.

The Professor folded down the paper again, and made his way to where a candle was burning. The fire came so fast that Jem hardly had time to protest, and when the ashes hit the trashcan they too smoldered into nothing. Standing there with the small wisps of smoke filtering up over his face, Jean-Luc looked deadly, but it was when his dark eyes flashed angrily to Jem; he suddenly wished he had never brought it up.

"Accusations like that could get you both killed." Twice in one day Jem felt guilty for upsetting this beautiful man, but when the bells rang they broke through his pounding heart. "Have a good night, Jem." When Jem stood to leave, Jean-Luc followed him to the door, but it wasn't his father's coat the Professor helped him into; it was the beautiful wool one with the silver buttons that Jem had always admired. This coat too was far too big on him, and though he wanted to protest greatly he knew he had to give up the soldier's coat; it had almost gotten him killed, and he wouldn't allow his mother to be sent it in a box one more time.

Jem didn't put his arms through the sleeves, but pulled the coat around him before he looked up to whisper, "Thank you…"

A/N: Things are going to start moving very fast soon, if you get lost let me know. With Center of the Sun wrapping up, this fic needs to end soon too as the bad guy is in this one. Have we met him already? Maybe. Tell me what you think?

Also, if you haven't figured it out, Will has a sort of HIV that is actually a pretty deep twist, and will be better explained in the next chapter. The bad guy for CotS 2 will be clear in the next chapter.

Don't forget to find me on Twitter and Tumblr! At StarryOwlEyes or Tumblr: Thou-Shall-Not-Fall