Chapter 7

Luke went about his usual day. He had breakfast, washed up, opened the shop. He felt much better physically. The wolf's healing ability combined with his resting had taken care of his ankle, as he had thought.

He closed up at eight o'clock. The previous evening and that morning had been pleasant, but the weather grew intense as the day wore on, hot and humid, and there wasn't any relief going into the night hours. Luke had a small dinner, the heat zapped his appetite. He went outside to wait for Valentine, who was prompt and impeccably dressed as usual.

"Good evening, Lucian."

"Come in, let's get out of the heat."

"Agreed."

Luke took Valentine around the house to the back entrance, straight into his kitchen, where they again sat down. Luke didn't have air conditioning in the store or his living quarters, but he had fans. Luke brought out a pitcher of ice water from the fridge set down two glasses, pouring himself and Valentine drinks. He took a sip, then set about getting more questions answered.

"Valentine, are you wanting to talk with Jocelyn and Clary?"

"I do not honestly expect Jocelyn or Clarissa would want to speak with me."

"What about Jonathan? Does he know you've found his mother?"

"Yes, he does, but he has not expressed interest in seeing her. Despite his difficulties, he is loyal to me. He believes I was in the right, so to speak, to give him the demon blood, and Jocelyn was ungrateful to me. I have tried to explain to him why she was upset with me. He humors me, but he does not truly have empathy for his mother's pain. He would like to meet Clarissa, but I asked him not to seek her out. I could see Jocelyn wanted to get away and shield Clarissa. Jonathan appearing would burst that illusion. To follow her wishes seemed the kindest thing I could do at this point. I caused great harm to her and our son."

"Yet, you sought me out?"

"I cannot contend this makes sense. I felt the kindest thing I could do for Jocelyn was to leave her alone, yet I felt I needed to see you. I could not see you without Jocelyn eventually knowing. A Catch-22."

"Do you feel you found what you were looking for, coming to see me?"

"No, there is more I wish to say to you. I did not see it then, but I can see now; I broke my vows to you. Yes, you becoming a child of the moon technically broke our agreement, but I descended more truly into darkness than you ever did. I will not ask your forgiveness, but I am sorry, Lucian. I am sorry I was consumed by hatred for Downworlders and the Clave, that I broke my marriage vows to Jocelyn, that I convinced Stephen to leave Amatis. And please believe me, I am sorry I gave you that blade and told you to end your life, and I am glad you did not."

Luke felt muscles he hadn't even realized were tense relax. This was more than he had ever hoped for, and he found he was ready to talk as well.

"I almost did." Luke said quietly, bringing his elbows on the table.

"What changed your mind?" Valentine asked, genuinely curious.

"I was too afraid to kill myself, but I wanted to die. When I went to the wolf pack and challenged the leader, the one who turned me, I was hoping to be killed. I think the fight broke through my despair and made me realize I wanted to live."

"Battle does have a way of doing that. I also want to thank you. I am not under the impression you did this for me, but I can see you supported Jocelyn and cared for my child in my absence."

Jocelyn had been his friend long before he met Valentine. Luke could have said he sought them out and stayed because of that bond, or that he did it for himself. Both of those were true, but not the entire truth.

"I think I did it partly for you. 'Your people are my people.'" Luke replied, quoting the vow parabatai made to each other.

"Truly, after everything?" Valentine sounded skeptical. "There is something I have been curious about. Were you not in love with Jocelyn? Why are you two not together? Unless I am mistaken and you are?"

This would have been a much more sensitive subject for Luke years before, but he had come to some peace about it. What was more strange was talking about this with Valentine. It was bold of him to ask, but he had always been bold.

"I did ask Jocelyn to marry me after the Uprising. I told her I would raise Clary as my own, that I had been in love with her since I was sixteen. She turned me down, told me she loved me but not in that way. I asked her if I could go with her anyway. She told me no, that she needed to go on her own."

"You weren't with Jocelyn this whole time?" Valentine asked with surprise.

"No. For the last ten years I've been here. I found Jocelyn again, by luck. I saw her art in a gallery."

"Are you still in love with her?"

Luke sighed. "Not romantically. You?"

"Our marriage shattered. I respect her, she is the mother of my children, but that love is not as it once was. To be frank, I am surprised Jocelyn left you after the Uprising. I do not understand why, but you have a tragic fate of people leaving you through no fault of your own."

"You don't think I chose the wrong path? The wrong people? Before you tutored me, you know I wasn't doing well in my studies. I was about to fail out of the Academy. I was thinking of leaving Idris, to not bring further shame on Amatis, and living as a mundane. I ended up doing that anyway, but I decided to stay, after your help. I made a choice.

"And Jocelyn… there was a reason she married you and not me in the first place. I knew she might reject me when I asked. That was not as painful as -"

Luke stopped himself. He had been quite open with Valentine, much more than he imagined he would be, but with this hesitated. Valentine stayed silent for a moment, waiting to see if Luke would continue on his own. When he did not, he asked quietly, "As painful as what, Lucian?"

It had been painful to grow up without his father. He had few memories of him. He had more memories of his mother. He had not understood why she was leaving. He understood his father had died, and that was why he was not with him. His mother's choice to join the Iron Sisters – though she had tried to explain it was a calling, a service – had been more ambiguous, a wound that never healed.

At least he had Amatis. They got along well. Amatis refusing to see him after he was bit was shattering. But that also was not what he had stopped himself from saying. Jocelyn rejecting him – twice really, first the marriage and then coming with her – was miserable, but he had at least somewhat prepared himself for those possibilities. Her asking him not to follow was actually more shocking than her turning down his marriage proposal.

What he had stopped himself from saying, but now came out with it, was this: "After I was bitten, and I didn't know whether or not I would be turned – though I knew the odds were not in my favor – I knew I was still Nephilim because I could feel our parabatai bond. When it broke, it was…"

Even though Luke was changing into a werewolf for the first time, he remembered distinctly the parabatai rune ending, even amongst every other of his runes ending. It burned out, scorching every piece of him in the process.

"Excruciating." answered Valentine, his voice solemn.

Luke looked at Valentine. For so long they had been apart, and in the ending of their union, he had felt so alone, but here was Valentine saying he felt it too. He had not been as alone he thought. He flashed back to their hug in the stairwell, when their parabatai bond was new, and he once again felt the urge to embrace him. Instead, Luke looked down at the table and said "I'm glad you came, Valentine."

Luke realized only after he spoke and felt the shift in the air that this was different subject matter than what they had been speaking of. Up until now they had been discussing other people: Jocelyn, Clary, Jonathan. When they talked about themselves it was their history, and changes in opinion about said history. What Luke just said was about them now, in the present. No other time or people to buffer or divide.

"As am I." Luke heard Valentine say, as he was still looking down at the table. He was surprised at the onrush of emotion Valentine saying that brought on. The distance he had been keeping from him felt breached, and before he was aware of what he was doing, he stood up from the table, too agitated to remain seated. Valentine stood as well, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, placing it over his shoulder. Even Valentine made concessions to this heat.

"I'll take my leave now." said Valentine. "We have settled things, about as well as we can. Please let Jocelyn know I mean no harm, but if she would like to see Jonathan, that can be arranged. I will send another bird if you find there is anything else you need to ask me. I plan on leaving the area soon." Luke felt Valentine looking at him. "Is something wrong?"

Valentine must have seen something on his face, in his posture because Luke was tense, arguing with himself. He agreed with Valentine. These talks, they had come to a resolution with each other, but Luke strongly felt he did not want to see Valentine go, yet they could never go back to how they were. He looked up at Valentine, who was gazing at him intently. That same agitated energy that had caused him to stand up took over again. Luke stepped forward and embraced his former parabatai clumsily around the shoulders, just as he wanted to do moments before. He felt Valentine go rigid for an instant, then relax, wrapping his arms securely around Luke's back, Luke relaxing as he did so.

"Was it the talk of the bond breaking? The Silent Brother told us it would hurt, but I had no concept of what that meant in reality." said Valentine , who took a deep breath, before admitting, "It was agony."

Luke tightened his hold around Valentine's shoulders, took a deep breath himself, then pulled away slightly. He kept one hand on Valentine's shoulder, letting his other arm fall to his side. Valentine brought his arms back to his sides as well. They stood there listening to the drone of the fan for a few moments. Luke was not looking at Valentine though he knew Valentine was looking at him, searching for something. He was deep in thought. He did what he had wanted to do, so why did he still feel so frustrated?

"What is it, Lucian?" asked Valentine, who was looking at him with open curiosity. He knew he didn't want Valentine to leave. The embrace had not been enough, but Luke had a feeling of trepidation, something telling him not to continue this line of thought. He felt Valentine's shoulder under his hand, and it seemed like his body was one step ahead of his mind, because Luke only put the reasoning together of why he should not continue after he had stepped in again, moved his hand from Valentine's shoulder to his cheek, leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

He could feel how chapped his lips were feeling Valentine's pressed against his, but what he noticed most was that feeling of agitation subsiding, like a vice around his chest loosening.

Valentine let him do it, but did not respond. That brought Luke back to himself and he pulled away, taking a couple of steps backward, red in the face, shocked over what he had just done. He had not felt for Valentine like this in the past, though, he reminded himself, his feelings for Jocelyn had been platonic for years before turning romantic. Maybe it was a pattern of his. His mind still reeling, he dared a glance at Valentine. He had held his position, and did not look mad; he seemed to be pondering something.

"The Silent Brother also warned us about this." said Valentine slowly, eventually.

Luke placed Valentine's comment with their previous conversation. They had been warned. The Silent Brother told them Eros was forbidden between parabatai at their rune ceremony, though all Nephilim grew up hearing stories about this. The bond would drastically increase in power, into uncontrollable power that would consume and eventually kill the parabatai, leaving only destruction in its wake.

Did Valentine think this had something to do with them once having been parabatai? Luke considered that now, or some sort of side effect of having the bond broken? Luke couldn't say for sure, so he said the first thing he knew for fact. "We aren't parabatai anymore." He was surprised how much sadness there was in that statement.

Valentine was silent for a short time, then spoke. "No, we are not. So, this is perfectly alright." He then stepped forward, wrapping one arm around Luke so that his hand held the small of his back, and with the other hand reached up and threaded his fingers through Luke's hair, then pulled him forward and kissed him, taking care not to bump his glasses.

Luke tensed. He felt he was trying to play catch up to a situation that he knew he started, but was astonished he had. But, even amidst his confusion, he couldn't deny how good this felt. Valentine's holds on him were firm, and he was putting moderate pressure into the kiss. Luke relaxed once again. The contact was deeply soothing. He wrapped one arm around Valentine's upper back, gripped Valentine's hip with his other and kissed him back.

Touching Valentine like this, even with how close they had been in the past, was not at all familiar; they way Valentine moved his lips against his; the way his fingers moved across his shirt back and through his hair. Valentine's scent, the one thing that should have been the same, was different, or rather Luke's reaction to it was. Valentine wore cologne this evening, but he could still smell Valentine's own scent underneath, and he found it intensely attractive.

Their kissing was not chaste, but it wasn't terribly passionate either, just the motion of their lips against each others. Their pace was slow; they were gauging each other. It reminded Luke of when they sparred. Valentine broke away, resting his forehead against Luke's, then spoke quietly, calmly, "Where do you want to go from here, Lucian?"

Luke took a moment to contemplate, still holding onto Valentine's hip and side. He felt this could be their only chance for whatever this was that was unfolding, and he longed to continue. Valentine had been bold enough to come here after all these years, following an impulse, and Luke realized he too had been following impulses: the hug, the initial kiss. Valentine's spontaneity was contagious, apparently. He had been okay so far, and Valentine seemed receptive. This next stop felt like not just going with the current, but falling over the edge. He took it.

He pulled away from Valentine completely and saw Valentine looking at him with questioning eyes. Luke had on a white button down shirt, and he started to undo the buttons, starting from the top and working his way down. Once he finished, he slipped the shirt off his shoulders and placed it over the back of the closest table chair. He had an undershirt on as well and he proceeded to pull that off and place it on top of his button down shirt, leaving him bare chested. He felt oddly chilled, despite the heat. He looked back at Valentine.

Valentine had been quiet during this. He hadn't made a move towards Luke or to divest himself of his clothing; he was only looking at Luke inscrutably. Luke second guessed himself, maybe this impulse hadn't been good. Valentine had always been better at this than he was.

Luke continued looking at Valentine, waiting for a reaction. When he didn't get one, Luke took hold of his undershirt with the intention of putting it back on, but Valentine reached out as he did this and held his arm, and spoke. "If we are to continue, I would prefer to be in your bedroom."

Luke said what he wanted to say; "Follow me." He started walking, Valentine following close behind. There was a door in the living room that led to a narrow hallway with three rooms and a bathroom. He used the largest room as an office and storage area. When he made Clary a bedroom, he had given her the room he'd been using, the second largest, and moved into the smallest. Though that was comparative, because all these bedrooms were small. Clary's larger room was only big enough to hold a twin bed, dresser, nightstand, bookshelf and school desk. He walked to the end of the hall and turned to enter his bedroom.

It contained a double bed pressed up against the wall along with a dresser, a nightstand and an area rug. The walls were the same gray he had painted the shop with. He had used the leftovers. The room felt even smaller with the two of them occupying it.

He turned on a fan on top of the dresser, then went to the nightstand and turned the light on and placed his glasses down upon it. Then, he looked to Valentine, who was crouched down in the process of taking off his shoes.

Valentine normally had cold coloring, his skin was pale white, with no red tone to it, and his hair was a harsh blond, but the light in here softened him, giving him a warmth he didn't naturally have.

Luke took off his shoes as well. Once he finished he went over to Valentine who had finished and was watching him, and kissed him again, holding Valentine's face with both hands.

They kissed much as they had in the kitchen, the same pace, the same method, the main difference now was that when Valentine touched him he was touching bare skin. He found it even more soothing than before. He would have been content to kiss like this well into the night, but Valentine shifted his hands from Luke's back to his sides, then bringing them both forward to the front Luke's jeans, and started pulling his spare belt out of the belt loops, eventually unbuckling it and letting it fall to the floor.

Having Valentine undo his belt was undeniably intimate, and it became even more so as Valentine then reached for and undid the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper. His jeans fell to the tops of his thighs, revealing his navy boxer briefs, and Luke started to feel uncomfortable that he was more than half nude while Valentine was fully dressed. Valentine must have known, because pulled away from Luke and started undoing the buttons on his own gray button down shirt.

Luke watched as he did so. His pace was moderate, in no rush but not so slow as to be teasing. Valentine let his shirt drop to the floor, and removed his undershirt as well.

Luke took his attention away from Valentine to remove his jeans and socks. He quickly folded the jeans and placed them, the rest of his clothing and Valentine's, on top of the dresser. After many experiences of tripping on his clothes in this cramped room, he was in the automatic habit of doing this, though he recognized Valentine might think it an odd thing to do under the circumstances.

Valentine was now undoing his belt. When he had removed that, he took his trousers and socks off, then following Luke's example put them all on top of the dresser.

Valentine then turned to face Luke, wearing only a pair of black briefs. Luke stepped forward to meet him, and kissed him again. Valentine kissed him in return, but he turned them and started walking forward, pushing at Luke's legs with his own, and holding him steady as he walked backward. When Luke felt the back of his legs touch the side of his bed, he pulled away from the kiss, held on to Valentine's forearm, and sat down on the edge of the bed, intending to pull Valentine forward to sit next to him, but Valentine surprised him by crouching down, grabbing both of his legs under the knee with the crook of his arm, and swinging him up and around. Luke landed on his stomach, and he felt the bed depress further as Valentine got on top of him.

This maneuver jarred him, their earlier pace had been so slow; this had been done startling fast. He had made his bed that morning, and he was now lying on top of his summer quilt. He was in the motion of propping himself up on his elbows when he felt Valentine's lips on his back, on his spine, between his shoulder blades. He responded with a quick inhalation of breath.

Valentine lingered with that kiss, then moved lower down. Luke sunk down into the bed, surprised at how powerfully he felt this, as though his spine was a chime that Valentine struck – there was even an aching where Valentine kissed him – that reverberated out to the rest of his body. Luke was started enough to cry out when Valentine pressing his teeth in. Valentine shifted in response, moving so that his arms were pressed up along Luke's sides, then slipping his hands underneath his chest, placing his palms flat against the base of his ribs.

It was incredibly intimate, tooth to bone, but if felt like there was something more than that; he was so deeply moved by this. A thought floated in, that Valentine had his back. This was a drastically different interpretation of that statement, but it had been so shattering that night when they had staked out the werewolf pack, to think Valentine had been watching out for him, to so brutally find out he wasn't.

Here in the present, Valentine had his back and had him covered as well. He could feel Valentine's body heat above him, the pressure he was applying to Luke's sides. He stopped himself from crying out again the next time Valentine pressed his teeth in, though the feeling of sensitivity did not diminish. Valentine stopped when he got to the waistband of Luke's underwear, and shifted, so his hands were once again flat against the bed.

Luke turned to look at him, Valentine leaned down, and their lips met. As they kissed, Valentine lowered himself until he made contact with Luke's backside, pressed down, then slowly, powerfully rolled his hips forward. Luke froze. He hadn't known what they would do once they got to the bedroom; if they would only continue to kiss or if they would go further. He had considered sexual contact, but not intercourse.

He wanted to get a good look at Valentine's face, to gauge if that was what he was suggesting. Valentine pulled away though he did not abandon his position, and Luke turned to look at him. He was surprised to see Valentine looking slightly flushed. Even when Valentine exerted himself he rarely looked red in the face. Hodge had asked once, astonished after they had sparred, "Why do I look like I've been trekking through the desert, while you look like you've just taken a leisurely stroll?" he a hearty red, Valentine his usual pale, amusement evident. "You fought well, Hodge," said Maryse, reassuring him. "Yes, really it is Valentine's fault. Do you always have to be so perfect?" added Stephen, laughing.

Luke found Valentine's eyes, returning to the present moment. Valentine's eyes, always dark, looked even darker, and Luke was astonished to see fire there. It was a look similar to when Valentine was debating something he was passionate about, but it was so much more than that. He had never seen Valentine look like this.

He dropped his gaze back to the bed in front of him before speaking. "Valentine, are you-"

"I want to." Valentine interrupted, his voice smooth. Luke felt his stomach drop away. Luke kept his gaze on the bed. The thought of doing this with Valentine terrified him, but there was another part of himself, the frustration that had made itself known tonight; Valentine leaving then was not enough time, the embrace was not enough. It had lingered after one, two, five, ten kisses, after they had taken their clothes off. With this offer, the frustration subsided. It would be enough.

He looked back at Valentine, who was silently waiting for his answer. He could feel his face heat up, yet mouthed to him, "Okay." Valentine nodded, putting his weight back on his knees. He reached over to the drawer of Luke's nightstand, looking through briefly, then closed it.

"What can we use as lubricant?" Valentine asked, slightly frustrated. Luke covered up his embarrassment by quickly turning over onto his back, and sitting up. Valentine moved backward to allow him to do so.

"I have some balm in the bathroom, that should be fine." he said quietly, as he got up. He walked fast, noticing how nervous he was. He left the bedroom, entered the bathroom, found what he was looking for. When he got back to the bedroom, Valentine was standing by the bed, looking around the room. He gave Luke a long, appraising look, then asked "How long has it been since you last shared your bed?" Luke was taken aback by his intensity.

He hesitated, though he decided to answer, not because he thought Valentine had a right to know, but – now he realized this had been compelling him all night – he was tired of telling lies and half truths. He'd done this ever since leaving Idris. It was a relief to tell the truth, even for one night. First, he walked to the bedside table and placed the balm down.

"Years."

Valentine's expression did not change, but he asked another question, with the same intensity. "How many?"

Luke counted back. "Eight."

"Why?"

This was a somewhat difficult question to answer. His romantic relationships had been few and far between. "My status is difficult. If I'm with a mundane woman I have to lie about my whole past, and we could never live together. I could not hide my changes. Downworlder women don't trust me – even werewolf women – because I was once Nephilim. I've cut myself off from the Shadow World at Jocelyn's request for the last ten years, but I doubt Shadowhunter women would trust me. You know the reaction turned Shadowhunters receive in Idris.

"Once I got more involved with Jocelyn and Clary, I stopped looking for that as much. I was content with them, but it did complicate things romantically. The last woman I was with assumed I was in love with Jocelyn. It would have been easier if I could say Clary was my child. She could understand my involvement. She wanted to be more serious, and I couldn't explain myself. It wasn't fair to her, and for me it started to feel hollow."

Valentine paused for a moment, apparently satisfied. "Only with women?" Valentine asked, losing some of his previous intensity.

"Yes." said Luke, simply, then he quickly stepped forward, placing one hand on the back of Valentine's head, and the other on Valentine's cheek and kissed him. He did not want to think about who Valentine had been with, or how he would inevitably compare. To his surprise, Valentine kissed him back only briefly before pulling away. Luke gave him a questioning look.

"Tell me what you were thinking just then." said Valentine softly.

"It's not important." replied Luke.

"Tell me." repeated Valentine, this time with more insistence.

"That you have been with men before."

"You are correct. You know I have always liked an adventure, but what else were you thinking? I know there was something else." Valentine said, studying Luke as he did so.

He didn't think there was a way to say this without spoiling the mood, but there was also that frustration of continually keeping his silence. He settled for saying, "I assume you have no lack of offers."

Valentine frowned slightly, then stepped forward, leaned in and kissed him, softly at first, then with increasing vigor. Valentine would pull away from each kiss only enough to speak a sentence, then engage in another.

"You dismiss yourself so easily – That you are magnanimous enough to invite me into your home, into your bed, with our said history – Seeing you so beautifully flushed, the brightness of your eyes against the white of the bedsheets – You amaze me, Lucian."

Luke had never been as eloquent as Valentine, but he tried to convey his feelings back through the kissing and his holds on Valentine how much this meant to him; Valentine saying these things; touching him like this, that he was here at all. He conveyed more by placing both his hands on Valentine's waist while still maintaining the kissing, sliding them down until he felt the waistband of Valentine's underwear. He gripped the fabric and started tugging it down, past Valentine's hip bones, then lower, as much as he could while still standing.

Valentine pulled away with a smirk on his face. He divested himself completely, while Luke did the same. When they were both done they took a moment to look at each other. This was not the first time they had been disrobed together, but Luke hadn't ever looked at Valentine nude with this lens. He felt self conscious knowing Valentine was reevaluating him as well.

Luke turned, flipping the quilt and top sheet down to the foot of the bed, his heart rate picking up, then he sat down, positioning himself with his back to the headboard. He reached out his arm to Valentine, who sat down on the edge of the bed, kissed Luke briefly, then pulled away and reached for the balm. Valentine looked back to him "As you were?"

Luke maneuvered himself so that he was once again lying on his stomach, grabbing a pillow to rest his head on. Valentine opened the tin and applied some to himself. Luke willed himself to ease his muscles during the preparation. Valentine eventually withdrew his fingers and the bed dipped down as Valentine straddled him, aligning their hips, his hands placed just below Luke's shoulders.

"Lucian." Valentine was remarkably calm given their present circumstances, but Luke detected a slight hesitation now.

"Go ahead." He wasn't able to match Valentine's calm, but he was sure about this, though he still struggled with the sensation. He knew Valentine was waiting for him to adjust.

"I'm okay. Keep going." Luke said quietly.

"Relax your legs, you are still pushing up with them."

He was again reminded of their sparring sessions, when Valentine would coach him where to step, how to move. He started to speak, "I…" in a strained whisper, only to trail off, unsure what to do. His first instinct was to tense, and he was having trouble overriding it. He then felt Valentine kiss the back of his neck, and the unexpectedly tender act put him at ease. Valentine noticed and started to move. The feeling was all-consuming, though he never increased his pace. This was not exactly pleasurable but it did fulfill the longing Luke felt all evening, the longing to be close. That, the sheer intensity of this, and being able to so intimately feel Valentine's arousal spurred his own. Valentine finished, and he followed.

Valentine waited only a few moments before withdrawing, then laid down next to him, breathing heavily, as he himself was. He continued laying on his stomach, his face pressed into the crook of his elbow.

"Let me see you." said Valentine softly, after he had caught his breath.

Now that the adrenaline was fading, he felt shaky. He eventually pushed himself up, sitting on his knees.

Valentine sat as well. He then reached over and touched Luke's cheek. This touch and the look on Valentine's face were the most gentle he had been all night, and Luke, with sudden horror, felt his eyes flood and his body start to move in a silent sob. He was dumbfounded, but consumed with sorrow over his past: Valentine, Jocelyn and Clary, Amatis, his parents, being turned, leaving Idris, all things he thought he had dealt with. He bit his lip to try to calm himself, then looked to Valentine. To his surprise, Valentine's eyes had also welled up. "It was intense for me as well." he said.

At this, Luke's voice returned, but it was wretched. He knew it was coming from him, but he didn't recognize it, and the force of it made him hunch over. Valentine was still holding his cheek, and he reached up and covered his hand with his own. He tried again to calm himself but was unable, so he gave in, riding out the sobs.

It left him exhausted; the spasms of his diaphragm, the strain on his throat. When the worst of it passed he laid down on his side, letting go of Valentine's hand in the process. This was not a cry that left him feeling lighter, but a sucker punch. Valentine reached down to the foot of the bed, pulled the covers up over him, and then got up and left the room.

Luke heard the water running in the bathroom, and then Valentine returned with a bowl of water and a wash cloth, which he placed on the nightstand. "Wash up with these. I am going to go wash up myself. Call if you need me."

Valentine took his clothes, and Luke could once again hear water running in the bathroom. "Call if you need me." triggered another round of tears, which he again rode out.

When he felt able, he rose, pulling the covers away from himself and wiping himself off as best he could sitting, then standing up to do the rest. Afterwards, he pulled on his jeans, a t-shirt, and sat back down on the bed.

When Valentine returned, he was fully dressed, and brought two glasses of water, handing one to Luke, then joined him sitting on the bed. They sat in silence, sipping on the water, until Valentine spoke. "Lucian, please do not misunderstand, but I feel it would be best for me to leave now. I feel I would be intruding upon you to stay any longer."

Luke didn't have much reaction to this, but at the moment he felt so drained it was hard to feel anything. "I'll walk you out."

He detected a slight hesitation on Valentine's part at this offer, a look of concern, but it passed quickly. He had not looked at himself yet, but if Valentine thought, even for a split second that he did not appear well enough to walk the dozen steps to the door he was not looking forward to seeing himself. Valentine looked perfectly presentable, much as he did when he first arrived this evening.

Luke stood and held out his hand for Valentine to give him his now empty water glass. Valentine did so as he too stood up, and they walked back to the kitchen, to the side door. Valentine was seemingly at a loss for words, unusual for him.

"It's fine. I'm going to sleep right after this." Luke paused for a moment, before adding, "I will see you again?" It had just occurred to him that this could be their final meeting.

"I can be here tomorrow evening at nine."

"I'll be here." Luke said, with more fatigue in his voice than he intended, but he was relieved.

Valentine smiled. "Goodnight, then. Rest well."

"Goodnight, Valentine."

Luke locked up after he left. He turned off the lights as he went back to his room. He dumped out the water from the wash bowl in the bathroom and took a look at himself in the mirror. He did look pale, and his eyes were red with dark underneath them. He finished up in the bathroom, then went to his room, took off his jeans, and laid down. He fell asleep quickly.