//TW: physical, emotional, sexual abuse, victim-blaming and gaslighting, suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, self-harm, swearing\\

Thank you guys for all your advice and encouragement. Words cannot begin to describe how happy I felt while reading your comments. You guys are the best, and I don't deserve readers as great as you.

James

At this point, you hate me.

I get it. I fully understand. And you have every right to.

I don't need the world to understand what I've done. I don't hunger for the approval of the very people who despise my existence, like Thomas does. I do not need to. The only thing I need is my Thomas in my arms, the promise that I'll never have to fear the threat of frost seeping up my spine, slowing time and freezing everything I've ever loved once and for all. As long as I have the only person I've ever needed, who has ever understood me, I'll be happy.

He is the only cure to this ruthless disease spreading through my body whenever I am alone. He is the only ward against those dark thoughts whispering like echoes in the deepest recesses of my mind late at night when the rest of the city is sleeping, unaware of what hatred lingers in the hearts of its humans. Thomas is the only thing keeping me from spilling my life across the sand of some beach a universe away, and the fact that they wanted to take that away from me? The fact that they wanted to see me bleed? It filled me with a hatred unlike anything I've ever felt before, and can you really blame me?

How cruel could they be?

I do not need anybody else in the world on my side as long as I have my Thomas, the only thing which is rightfully mine.

I do not need your understanding.

But have you ever heard the story of Pavlov's Dog?

If not, I'll explain. So basically, a scientist who realized he had nothing better to do with his life conditioned his dog into getting hungry every time a bell would ring. He did this by, you guessed it, ringing a bell every time he filled the dog's food bowl up. Soon, the dog associated the bell with food. The bell is ringing? Food. Awesome. Wow. The scientist did this for months until one day, he rang a bell without filling up the food, and the dog began to salivate.

It's a basic principle, one of the more popular ideas of psychology. Simple enough to understand, I hope.

That is what I've basically done to Thomas.

All I want is for him to act the way I want him to. All I want is for him to be mine and to be happy with me and everything I can give him. If I have to hurt him to get him to understand that I love him more than I have ever loved anything, that he is the only thing I need to survive, then what does it matter? I'd gladly sacrifice entire worlds just to keep him as mine, just so I never have to know what it feels like to wake up alone, the world around me unusually and unfairly bleak even for this dreadful city.

What Thomas, and everyone else, for that matter, don't understand is that I'm doing this for his own good.

I'm doing this to protect him from the world that detested everything about him. I'm doing this to protect him from the man who disguised his selfishness for love, and unfairly offered Thomas promises he could never deliver on. He would hurt Thomas and leave, all the while proclaiming his innocence. And I'd be the one to pick up the pieces, just as I always was. The world would leave us behind, never once looking back as it forged on ahead, but so much the better.

He was the one who left me. I should be the angry one, I should be the one hungering for justice to finally come and correct things so they could return to the way they had been, so long ago. Things had been so perfect then, when I had only Thomas and he only had me. It was us against the world, and there was no way I'd rather have it.

They had held him hostage. They had turned him against me. They had tried to separate us, tried to conquer our love in fear of what it could turn into, but they couldn't last. I burned down an entire city and all that it stands for just to get him back where he belongs, and I would happily do it a thousand more times. He is my Tommy, and he will always be my mine.

It was etched in the stars, the way things were always meant to be since the days we were created, brought into an existence so unfairly thrust upon us. I'm not saying I'm ungrateful for all I have, but it certainly would have been nicer to never know exactly how cruel fate can be some days.

But for now, and hopefully until the end of time and the universe itself, Thomas was mine. And I would destroy anybody or anything who threatened that, no matter the cost.

But the question was why?

And to be honest, I didn't know the answer myself.

The more I think about it, the more I realize it's because I'm afraid.

I'm afraid to lose my Tommy.

I'm afraid to know once more what it feels like to wake up cold, lost in a world never intended for you, without the only person on the entire planet who makes life worth living, even just a little bit. I'm afraid to lose my purpose, my motivation. I'm afraid to wake up and wonder what left I have, when the world has turned against me. I'm afraid to come to that point, overlooking the world below, a heartless city filled with heartless strangers, and finally take the plunge off the side.

Oh, how I long for the days when all of this was much simpler. When I didn't have to fear the rising darkness deep within each of our souls, hungering to be let out of the velvet cages we imprisoned them with, disguising them as something they were not. I long for the days where I do not have to fear a world where I have lost the only boy that has ever mattered to me.

And for a time— I had lost him.

Do you know how crushing it felt to wake up every morning and not have him right next to me? Do you know how bitter I felt every time I called out to him, only to remember he had left me? Do you think you could possibly begin to comprehend the pain I felt day after day after losing him?

Of course not.

And why should you?

But I don't need you to understand.

"Thomas!" I called, my frustration with him growing. "Let's go!"

He didn't respond right away, but the frantic crashing around in his room answered more than words ever could. I fought back my growing resentment with the promise that in a few weeks or so, everything would go back to normal. This little rebellion of his, spurred by whatever nonsense Alexander has whispered in his ear in an attempt to plant those poisoned seeds, will flicker out just like a candle burning for a bit too long. And things will return to the way they were meant to be. I let out a deep breath in an effort to reign in my cold anger, and joined him in his room, leaning against the doorframe.

"Thomas, we're late enough as it is," I said as calmly as I could, watching as he dug through drawers for something that clearly wasn't there. Why he bothered, I'd never understand. But some of us just cannot let go of the past, even when all it would do is haunt us.

"I can't find it!"

I cursed under my breath. "We don't have time for this, we have to go. Now!"

"Please just give me a second!"

"What are you even looking for?"

There was silence for a moment before he unsteadily said, "My hoodie."

"Your hoodie?" I repeated, unable to believe what he was saying. All of this for a fucking hoodie?

"I can't find it! I must have left it at Alexander's apartment! I have to go and get it—"

Oh. Of course that's what this was about.

"First of all, it's a hoodie," I growled, feeling the exasperation grow even more. He just wanted an excuse to go see Hamilton, didn't he?

Why couldn't I be good enough for him? Why must he make everything so fucking hard?

"It's not just a hoodie! My dad gave it to me before..." He trailed off. It was as if the mere mention of his father was too much for him.

Part of me softened, and my fingers ached to reach out and brush against his shoulder. To wrap around his body and promise that everything would be alright, that he didn't need some old sweater to remember him. That he had me here whenever he needed me, to talk to, if only he would open up and show me his weaknesses as he once had been able to. And maybe I could finally convince him to stop chasing after the things he could never have. Maybe he'd open his eyes and see me for what I truly am.

I am not the monster he thinks I am. All I want to do is protect him from a world that could never understand nor love him the way I do.

But that is not how my words came out, as barbed and poisoned by that rotting anger as they were. For kindness was a weakness, and one I couldn't afford to show especially in the face of all that he had done to me these past few months.

"You don't need it. You'll be fine without it."

"I want it!"

He stopped digging through the drawers, turning to face me at last. His face pulled the breath from my lungs, his pleading, desperate face. I swore I could see myself reflected in his eyes, and it made me freeze, take a step backwards. For I saw myself the way he must see me, and for a moment, it left me speechless.

But I hardened, remembering all the injustices he had dealt me, all the ways he had walked out when I had needed him and his love most, leaving me to suffer, to freeze in the unrelenting cold that often filled the gap his absence created. He left me behind to die, while he found what I could never have without him.

And I pushed my hesitation aside, for it made me weak. It made me a coward. And that was a vulnerability I could not afford to show.

"Thomas, we have to go. If we're late again, Charles is going to kill me!"

I could hear him mumble something under his breath, but he stepped away from the drawer nonetheless, the old magenta hoodie that was somehow too big for him, missing from his normal outfit.

"Do... do we have to go?" The fear was obvious in his voice. He knew what was going to happen.

"Yes."

I looked away, refusing to break. He had to understand that I was only doing this because I cared for him. He had to know that, right? He didn't have to make me feel like the bad guy.

"But I—"

"You left, Thomas. It's what you deserve."

Thomas's gaze drifted to the ground. "I don't want to go," he murmured.

The pent up anger inside of me exploded. "You don't want to? Do you think I wanted to lose you to that... that bastard? Do you think I care what you want? If you love me, then you'll come with me, and I honestly can't believe I even have to have this conversation with you. Plus, I didn't ask you what you wanted Thomas. Let's go."

Thomas stared at the ground, and I let out a sigh. I moved over to him and placed my hand on his face, frowning slightly when he involuntarily flinched away from my touch.

It hurt to see the way he shifted backwards, as if he had been wounded simply by the barest brush of my fingers against his face. It hurt to see him tense, the fear in his eyes saying far more than words ever could. I bit down my anger, quelled the flames rising within me that longed so desperately to break free and ravage the world until there was nothing left within it.

"You know I hate to hurt you, Tommy, but this is for your own good. You'll understand one day, and when you do, you'll thank me."

Something flashed in Thomas's eyes. He looked up at me defiantly and opened his mouth to speak, looking as if he was about to argue. Then, his shoulders drooped and his mouth closed. Whatever he was going to say wasn't going to be said.

So much the better.

I slid my thumb against his lips, tracing them as softly as I could. He shivered at the touch, then rebuilt the walls that had crumpled around him so many times today already, once more shutting me out from the garden I had tried so hard to step inside of.

"They're just going to hurt me," he whispered, leaning into my touch. I offered him the smallest smile I could, desperate to keep this moment alive for as long as possible. I should have stolen it away for myself, the smallest glimpse of his affection, his desire to be loved. Perhaps in that moment, he saw exactly what I had tried so hard to prove. That I could be all he ever wanted, I could be the only thing in the world that he needed.

It could be us. Alone in a castle built from every memory we shared, every moment the two of us spent alone. It could be me and my Thomas, and nothing left in between us as the ivy grows along the marble walls of the solitary castle, warding off any who dared to steal that happiness for themselves, the people who'd never understand the truest, deepest meanings of what this world truly could have.

"Please, I don't want to get hurt," he whispered.

"I won't let them hurt you," I promised, gazing into his eyes. They were wide and open and trusting, like those of a wild bird after having been rescued, brought back from the brink of death and destruction. I had saved him from all the horrid things that bastard could have done to him. I would keep him safe no matter what, even if it meant stripping away his freedom, even if it meant locking him away so only I could hear how he sings for the dawn of a new day.

He is mine. And I will do what it takes to may sure it stays that way.

"Y-you swear?" Thomas whispered, his breath warm against my skin as I never let my thumb fall.

"I swear."

"Okay," he murmured, his shoulders drooping. He stepped backwards, his warmth disappearing just as he did. "Then I'll go quietly."

A silence fell between us for a brief, bittersweet second. A second that perhaps made it easier to understand in the wake of everything that had eclipsed my love.

Finally, he spoke. "I'm sorry. I never should have left you."

"No, you shouldn't have," I agreed, taking a step away from him. "But you did. And you hurt everyone. You hurt me, most of all, but you also hurt your so-called friends. They would have been so much happier if you had never come into their lives. You ruin everything, Thomas. If you had just stayed with me in the first place, everyone would be so much happier. If you think they cared about you for a moment, you're wrong. You were nothing more than a burden to them."

"You're right," he whispered, swallowing, staring at the ground. "You're always right."

"Of course I am. Now let's go. We don't want to be late again, do we?"

"No, James. We don't."

I turned to leave, flipping off the lights as it would be a while before we returned. But something made me stop, turn back to him. Perhaps it was my guilt, perhaps it was some weak voice in the back of my head, pleading incessantly. Thomas was still standing still, one hand hiding his face and the other arm hugging his shaking body. He made no noise, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was sobbing.

Oh.

"Hey, Tommy," I said softly, allowing my own walls to crumble for just a moment, to show him a fleeting bit of comfort if it meant he would stop crying. "Hey, don't cry." I returned to his side, took his hands in mine, and wiped away the tears spilling down his face. He looked so ugly when he cried. "Come on, everything's going to be okay. You're safe now, and you can be happy again. I know you're upset, Tommy, but I promise that everything's going to go back to the way it is."

He nodded, gazing down. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry for what?"

"For everything. And for crying."

"It's okay, Tommy. Wash up, quickly. And then we'll go."

I stole a kiss, pressing my mouth firmly against his just to remind him of my love. He sighed against me, his body relaxing, and I let go only a moment later.

"Thank you, James," he whispered. "For forgiving me."

"I love you."

"I—I love you too."

But something in his eyes convinced me he didn't mean it.

~•~

Darkness obscured my vision, and a sudden bolt of panic shot through my body as I noticed just how empty the bed felt, devoid of the boy I had wrapped my arms around firmly before I had drifted off. I reached for my phone, my throat tightening at the possibilities of what could have happened while I slept, stupidly trusting him. But as my hand shot over to the table, I felt a hand on my shoulder gently shaking, and I realized what had woken me up. Annoyance set in, overriding the panic, and I slammed my face into the pillow, in no frame of mind to deal with this just now.

"Uh, sorry. F-for waking you up," he whispered, his voice drifting through my ears like a song from a long forgotten dream.

I lifted my head once more, blinking to adjust to the pressing darkness. I let out a sharp groan as what little light there was drifting in through the window reflected in his eyes, revealing the wetness glimmering in their corners. I opened my mouth, then elected to ignore the tears.

"What do you want, Thomas?" 

"I had a nightmare," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I... I can't sleep."

"So?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd like to..." He paused, as if trying to figure out what to say. "If you'd like to go look at the stars with me?"

I froze, the words washing over me. They came out with so much hope, his fingers clinging onto the loose fabric of my shirt as though looking for some sort of comfort. I considered sitting up, slipping his fingers into my hand, just to feel the warmth of his bare skin against mine. Warmth was all I needed, anymore.

"What?"

"Well I—I know we can't really see them but I still... I don't know. Maybe we could just...walk t-together?"

"This is what you woke me up for? This?"

"It could be nice. Alexander and I used to—"

"I don't give a shit," I snapped, shoving his hand off of me. In the darkness of the room, still trapped in the holds of sleep, I had very little control over the words leaving my mouth, escaping on their own command. All I aimed to do was hurt him, especially for bringing up him. If I could just tarnish the memory of the bastard that had stolen away my Thomas just a little, then perhaps I wouldn't have to dwell on all he had taken away. Perhaps Thomas would forget him just as quickly as he had forgotten me.

That's really all I really wanted, to see Alexander hurt for all he had done. He deserved to atone for all the damage he had caused, and his pain was the quickest way for that to happen.

"James, I just—"

"Go back to sleep Thomas," I growled, turning over and hiding my face in my pillow.

"James—"

"Just do what I tell you, for fuck's sake."

"James, please—"

"Fine. Go. But I'm not going to go with you."

After a moment, a soft sigh filled the air, carried by the breeze of the window he must have opened in his restlessness. Thomas drew backwards, the feel of his presence disappearing. In the moment, like a fool, I did not care. I just wanted him gone for a few moments, and that was where my mistake lay.

"If you need me," he said softly, his words already lost to me as weariness pulled me under the irresistible waves of sleep. "I'll be in the park just across Riverside."

"Sure. Whatever."

His footsteps echoed through the dorm, soft though they were, but I suppose especially in the still darkness they were unbearably loud. I listened as they retreated, as the door closed, as a silence encapsulated the room just as it had for so many sleepless nights before I had won him back. I paused, hating the way that miserable silence fell around me.

For just a fraction of a moment, I felt slightly guilty. Maybe I should go with him, it could be nice.

But before I could change my mind, I fell asleep once more.

And the seeds of his dissent grew, just a little bit higher, amongst the weeds they had been buried with. It wouldn't be much longer before they bloomed.