Make yourself remember me, in cold and concrete.
When will you realize your demons make you real?

La Dispute - To Withstand the Force of Storms

I opened my eyes to scan the room every few minutes and see wherever James had moved to. There was no real threat of me falling asleep, between the electricity running over my skin, the sorrow that had returned as soon as I opened my Gift and now felt like it was crushing my ribs, and the occasional flashes of anger I felt from James directed towards me, even the idea of sleep was humorously absurd, no matter how exhausted I was.

James mainly stayed near the fireplace, occasionally pacing or walking back to the shelf of liquor bottles to grab a new one. I would have been worried about the magnitude of his drinking, but I decided to trust his statement about alcohol's effects on Darklings. It had probably only been a half-hour since I barged into James' room, though time was difficult to gauge. I was trying to keep my Gift as quiet as possible, not wanting to invade his mind and upset him further, when I felt something like a physical vibration run through the wire that connected us. I opened one eye a fraction and saw that James was missing from his usual spot by the fire. I looked over my shoulder to see where he was.

I found him leaning heavily against the far wall, his head bowed. I shifted in my seat a little and his face shot up, turning to look at the sound. Something I never thought I would truly see was on his face; real physical pain. Not like the inklings of it I saw in the cab, not like when I had hit him or if someone got a solid blow in during training, but something so much deeper, rawer. The look seemed foreign on his face and it somehow made him look different, scared, young. In just a couple of long strides he was to me before I had done anything more than stand.

"You have to leave now. I'm not just being stubborn. You have to leave now." His voice sounded rough with pain and there was an urgency in his tone I found frightening.

"Did you drink too much? Are you okay? Should I get Kael?"

I realized I sounded more worried than I had planned, but his actions surprised me and the memory of him passed out in the back seat of the cab came flooding back. The terror that I would lose him, the fear of the unknown, all of it.

He let out a short, terse laugh before he started pulling me toward the door again.

"No, I wish I had drunk more. It would actually make this easier. I'll be fine. I-"

"I don't believe you." I cut him off as I pulled my arm away. "I have no reason to believe you."

I leveled my eyes with his and raised my eyebrows, daring him to try and argue. James looked up at the ceiling like he had in the club, as if pleading with god for patience before meeting my eyes.

"I'm having a vision, that's all. It...it hurts to try and stop it and," he paused and closed his eyes like the pain was too great for a moment before continuing, "and I need you to leave before it comes. I don't always come out of it in a very charitable mood."

His eyes looked truthful, though it was difficult to tell through the cloud of pain.

I glanced to the door, trying to decide what to do and then I heard a quiet groan. When I looked back to James he was doubled over and had one hand on the floor balancing himself, I crouched down next to him and gently touched his back. Almost like a trigger he collapsed into a heap on the floor.

I felt a jolt of panic and tried to shake him, to get him to wake up, but he was already gone. Despite myself I thought of the cab again, of the gash in his side, his blood soaking into his shirt and jeans, the poison that had almost won. I pulled him up onto my lap, his head and shoulders cradled on my legs. I could feel his body tense every few seconds, almost like he was trying to break out of the dream. I felt completely useless and I hated that I couldn't do anything to help. I tried to get into his head, to see what he was seeing, to try and be there with him, but I couldn't, there was a block so solid it felt like I didn't even have a Gift. Instead, I stroked his hair, hoping he could feel it.

His hair was softer than I had expected. I'd never thought of any part of him being soft. From his harsh smiles to the hard edge in his eyes, to his body and words, having such smooth hair just seemed incongruent. I brushed it back from his face and it surprised me how much younger he looked without it hanging down in front of his eyes, giving him a mask to hide behind.

I stayed there for a while, running my fingers through his hair. It seemed strange and completely normal all at once. I traced my fingers along the scar at his neck, feeling the smooth, raised skin, and then some of the higher scars on his chest and across his collarbone that were visible above his shirt. Tracing the angles of his face just made me realize that much more how beautiful he was. It was more obvious when he was as he was, asleep or whatever being in a vision was called. I could see him as he might look if he was just a man, and not a Darkling, not a leader.

Where I was seated, with my back leaned against the end of the couch, left my lap and James' face and shoulders in shadow. The firelight was playing tricks on me and his hair looked darker as I let it fall through my fingers. I leaned forward slightly, peering down at him. It looked black, as dark as Kael's. I shifted my weight, turning him until the side of his face was hit by the fire's orange light. A small gasp escaped my lips...it was black. His hair was pitch black, like an empty sky in the dead of night of a new moon, or his eyes when he Shifted.

I blinked a few times, thinking maybe something was wrong with me, but his hair stayed an inky shadow. I cautiously touched it again, but it felt just the same as before, everything about it was the exact same, except the color. I held a little in my hand as I stared down at it in disbelief. I was pulled from my shock when something like a whimper escaped James' lips, sounding small, pained or scared. And then his eyes flew open and I was met by black, bottomless spheres and bared, knife-like teeth.

"No!"

In a moment, James went from peacefully laying in my lap with me gently stroking his dark hair to something vicious, an animal. I had never seen him like that. I had never even imagined him like that. His teeth were bared like a dog, a snarl escaping him as he lunged at me. There was something savage in his face and it frightened me. He didn't even recognize me, and I hardly recognized him either. He had a fire burning in his eyes like Hell, rage mixed with a fierceness I had never seen before. He looked like the Angel of Death come to reap his vengeful judgment on the world, on me.

He pulled me down into him, crushing me against him and rolled over until he was on top of me, his weight pinning me down. And then his hand was pushing the center of my chest back, I could feel the bones yielding, caving in under the pressure. My mind was swimming as my Shift took over, but it was too late, he already had a hold on me and he was stronger. I was trapped.

I couldn't get any words out, but I felt James' fire. The block that had kept me from him during his vision had crumbled and I called his name from my mind. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I called him anyway. And then, I heard a reply out loud. I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them, and saw James looking down at me, his eyes were back to their midnight blue, though his hair was still raven black.

"Jordan?"

He sounded so soft and gentle it seemed fundamentally different from his usual voice. He was staring down at me, his hands no longer touching me, though I hadn't noticed the pressure leave my chest until the ache came.

"I couldn't save her, I never can," he mumbled as he looked at me with deep guilt in his eyes.

"Save who? James, there's no one here to save. It wasn't real, it was a vision."

He seemed so confused, so dazed, so vulnerable. It made my throat tighten.

"But...I-I know, she's gone, I know that. I...it always seems real, each time I see it happen, each time I try to stop...and each time I can't. I try to kill him, to make him pay...and then I wake up. But it happens each time, I know it. It really happens, over and over again."

James was staring at his hands now, he sat back from me and it looked like he had too many thoughts warring in his head.

"Who? What happens?" I could guess at the answers, but I wanted to keep him talking, it was all I could think of to help.

James looked up into my face and the openness on his, the complete honesty there made me reach out and lay my hand on his shoulder. As soon as I did I realized how strange it was, I realized how rarely we touched without violence involved. He looked down at my hand as well, but he didn't look upset, just confused. A sad look came onto his face a moment later and he pulled himself closer to the fire, out of my reach, with his back against one of the chairs. He looked to me again and nodded, motioning for me to come over and join him. I took a chance and sat directly across from him, my back against the front of the couch, our knees almost skimming each others'.

"Do you know why we don't use guns? Do you know why we practice so hard with weapons that are outdated compared to bullets?"

He had a pained look in his eyes as he asked and it twisted my stomach to see the unmasked emotion on his face. This wasn't like him, he almost still seemed in the trance.

"I never really thought about it I guess. Do they draw too much attention, too loud? Too easy to trace, serial numbers maybe?"

Now that he mentioned it, it was strange that I hadn't practiced with any guns yet. I realized that I had never even seen guns in any of the weapons rooms. Out of all the morbid items the Clan's manor housed, I had never seen a single gun or bullet or case.

James didn't reply for over a minute, he just stared into the fire with unseeing eyes. When he did respond I thought maybe he had forgotten his first question to me.

"My mother was a monster, not the kind from Heaven or Hell, she didn't have a single drop of otherworldly blood in her veins, not that I know of at least. She was the most common kind of monster; a Human one. But she started to change, I couldn't see it then, I probably wouldn't have cared, or I would have seen it as weakness maybe, maybe I would have despised her all the more for it."

His brow was pulled down and he spoke quietly, sometimes his eyes closed for long pauses, almost like the words hurt him, like someone with a headache might close their eyes to try and alleviate the pain.

"I made him angry, I wouldn't kill a girl he had brought me. I couldn't, she wasn't afraid to die, she was just angry. She was so...she impressed me. She wasn't afraid of me. He didn't see the value in that like I did. He said he didn't need someone weak like me, someone who couldn't even kill when commanded.

He had punished me before, cut me, shot me, beat me, tortured. It didn't affect me anymore, I barely even felt it. But this time was different. I could tell it was different, he had been drinking and he aimed for my heart, I knew it too, I could easily see. He said he would try again, for a stronger son, do things differently the next time. He was finally going to kill me. I had dreamt of it a thousand times, seen it in my mind happening - fantasized about it - but it really was going to happen, finally. And I was glad. I was so happy."

James' words were close to slurred, his speech heavy and slow from self-medication or maybe his vision. I sat silently, not knowing if I should say something or just wait. Then, he continued, finding his train of thought again, reliving the memory.

"She stepped in front of me. My whole life I hated her, and she me...I told myself she did it out of selfishness, that she wanted to die, to be free of him, of me. I thought she wanted to make me stay, force me to keep living a life under his control. I used to think she hadn't done it for me, but she must have. I couldn't see the changes in her then, but I can now. She was trying to change, to become someone else.

Part of me couldn't accept that though, that she was trying to be good. And I wanted him to pull the trigger. I wanted him to shoot me, straight through my heart. I hated her for taking that away from me, for taking away my only escape and using it herself. If she really wanted to be good she should have killed me, she should have let him shoot me. She would have saved so many people from the things I've since done."

James paused again, like he had so often as he recounted his memory.

"I didn't even mourn. I didn't care that she was dead, that she had died for me, at least not at first. I just stared at her body, blood pooling on the floor. I used to think I hated her, but I hadn't, I realized that once she was gone. She was the first person I cared about, the first person I ever maybe loved, but I didn't understand love, and I had mistaken it for just another form of hate. I only noticed what she meant to me weeks after she was gone.

Love is weakness, maybe that's why I thought my love for her was hate, because I hated her for making me weaker. But once I realized she was gone, and that she would always be gone...that she died thinking I hated her, but she still stepped in front of me. That's why I don't use guns. The others could if they wanted, I wouldn't stop them, but I can't use them, I won't.

I should have died. I should have at least cared, or been grateful for her sacrifice. I may wish it had been me, but how could she have known, how could she have known I wanted him to pull the trigger? That I dreamed of dying every day?"

James shook his head slightly before lifting the bottle to his lips again. I saw him swallow hard.

"And now I can't kill myself, I can't let her sacrifice be for nothing. That would be the ultimate insult. I hurt her enough when she was alive, I won't continue after her death. She should be at peace now."

His story made a strange feeling fill my chest, like a heavy warmth. My throat felt dry and I realized my eyes were wet. I felt a crushing sorrow and it almost made it hard to get air. My breaths became shallow, but I didn't fight it, I pulled the feeling in, opened myself to its razor.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up to see James looking at me, his eyes wide.

"I...you're doing it again, just like with the poison - taking it from me."

He dropped his head into his hands, defeated, and shook it as he ran his fingers back through his hair.

"You don't have to, I'm sorry. This isn't anyone's but my own. This is my burden, not yours or Kael's or anyone else's, you-"

"Stop it. I'm not just your partner, or a member of your Clan. Whether you like it or not, I'm your Pair, True Pair, and I'll keep helping you in any way I can. No matter what you say or how much you try and mock me for it. You don't have to carry everything on your own anymore. I won't let you, and I don't care what you say. You can tell me I'm stupid for trying, you can yell and try to embarrass me or piss me off, but I'm still going to help you, in any way I can, every time I can."

I looked stubbornly into his eyes as I spoke, expecting a fight, but I realized I didn't care. I might be proud, but even that wasn't enough to make me turn my back on him. Whether he wanted my help or not, he was going to get it, even if I had to force it on him.

Instead of arguing like I had expected, James just hung his head with his hands still in his dark hair. After a few moments of silence I reached forward and brushed some of it back, like I had when his head had been in my lap. His gaze slid up to mine and I raised my eyebrows in question. He let out a small, low chuckle before answering.

"I decided to try a new look, you like?"

The weak smile pulling at one side of his mouth made me give one of my own.

"My father had darker hair, my mother had light. People used to say I looked like him...I hated that like I hated him, so I changed it. My Gift makes it easy to alter how I look to some degree, like the glamour when you first saw me. It slips when I'm forced into memories."

"Wait, memory? That wasn't a vision then? You said forced memory."

He looked up and I saw his jaw tense, his eyes wary, like he realized he had said the wrong thing, letting something slip.

"Who makes you have this vision. Is it every October twenty-eighth? You always see her death? Is it your father? You said your mother was Human, so your father must be a Darkling. I'm guessing not really adopted. Can he send these to you? Why just today, why not other days, other memories?"

He looked at me as if he was deciding something, but I kept my Gift from his mind even though I wanted to know his every thought. He was already telling me so much. Finally, he let out a short breath and gave me another small smile.

"You want to be my Pair? Then there are some things we need to discuss, but if I trust you and you turn on this Clan, I will kill you. I promise that. Blood Twin or not, connection or not, no matter how I feel. I will never put my family in danger."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, James."

"As True Pairs we share percentage, that's where the term 'Blood Twin' originally came from, that our blood is equally...tainted. Nevaeh made a good guess of your percentage, and my parent's blood is the same strength as your parent's blood. Meaning they were broken beyond repair. They had too much Fallen blood to ever truly be good. My mother was completely Human, my father is where my lineage comes from.

I grew up very differently than Nevaeh and Kael and you. I made my first kill before most children were even in grade school. I used my Sign to burn someone alive before most Fires could make a spark. I hunted and killed and tortured and I thought of it as playing. I didn't even know it wasn't normal."

He gave a forced bark of laughter before he continued.

"It didn't feel wrong either. I hated life, but only because I hated everything, it had nothing to do with the terrible things I was doing. In fact, that was probably when I was the closest to happy, in a sick, twisted way. But then he killed my mother. And I cleaned it up."

He idly rubbed his hands together, kneading his fingers into his palms like he was wiping away the blood. He bit his lip after a few more seconds, leaving dents when he spoke again.

"I started to question him more after that. Maybe because of her death, maybe just because I was defiant, getting older, maybe because I was hoping to anger him to the point where he would try to kill me again. I had never really wanted to live. Then I left, ran away I guess. I hid for a long time, terrified he would find me, terrified he would make me go back. I can't quite understand why that scared me so much. I wasn't afraid of death, I wasn't afraid of his punishments, I wasn't afraid of the pain. But I was terrified of him. And I knew I didn't want to go back. Couldn't, for some reason.

I would stay in a city or town for a couple of days before moving on, never leaving a trail, except the missing people when I would kill. I was a mess, I was completely out of control. I had never denied myself anything before, the least of it violence, I had never had to. That's when Jevin found me. He pulled a gun on me the first time we met, it used to be his specialty. I dropped to the ground, crying like a child. I was a child still, I suppose.

I guess he felt sorry for me, took pity and kept me. He showed me another way to live, it took me a very long time, but finally I started to try to make up for my past life. I took my new lifestyle further than even Jevin did."

He shook his head slightly before leaning back and loosely clasping his hands over his knees.

"Three years after I left my father is when I first started having the memories of her death, and then it wasn't just her death, it was memories of all the terrible things I'd done. Of me cutting a man's throat, burning someone alive, pulling someone's arm out of its socket just because my father told me to. He sent me their screams or their voices begging me to stop. Sometimes it would seem so real I thought there was actually someone who needed my help.

I was afraid I was going insane for a while, but then one night I knew it was him, I don't know how, but I could feel that it was him sending them to me, to torture me. He can manipulate minds in ways that make my Gift look like a parlor magician's."

He looked up at me for the first time in many minutes, his beautiful blue eyes shining in the firelight.

"I found him then, and I killed him. He didn't think I'd ever come back, he wasn't expecting it. I finally avenged my mother, but the visions didn't stop. I've spent years perfecting my blocks since then, and it has worked to some degree, but he can still overpower me on this one day, every year. I don't know why its only today, but no matter how strong I make my mind, or how hard I try to fasten my blocks, he can always get in on this day. Even from death he's stronger than me. Even from Hell he can still torture me."

James shifted his eyes to above my head as he finished, searching like he was actually able to look through his own mind. He looked tired, and his eyes looked both glazed from alcohol and his pain, his guilt. I had felt it building as he told me about his childhood, and the things he had done, the people he had killed, the things he had gone through.

He ran a hand through his hair before realizing it was still dark and then dropping his arm with a slight pull at his lip, disgusted with the mere thought of his resemblance to his father.

"Can you imagine that? Seeing your biggest regret every year, re-feeling all that you tried to bury. Re-digging it all up when you can see and understand its significance? Re-tearing open the scars you thought were close to healed? And knowing you aren't strong enough to stop it? I can't tell you how terrifying that first year after his death was. I thought I was free, and then it came, just like every other year."

He said the last words through clenched teeth, his fists balled at his sides. I shook my head slowly, not even able to comprehend how it would feel to be raised by a monster and then forced to remember that no matter how far you went, no matter how hard you tried, you were still a monster too. James spoke again, pulling me back to the scene before me.

"I've killed Darklings, executed really, for far less than the horrors I've done. I can't even count how many innocent people I killed or tortured or maimed, either on another's orders or by my own choices. And I enjoyed it. I still do, that's the worst part."

I had never seen a look of self-loathing like the one I saw on James' face. I had also never seen his emotions laid so bare. He wasn't trying to hide a single thought, a single feeling, he let it all to the surface and part of me wanted to look away. The mix of emotions I felt from our connection, even with trying to stay far from his mind, was enough to make me feel drowned, but I kept my head above the waves and tried to simply listen. I reminded myself what I had told him earlier, he no longer had to shoulder this alone.

James stared into the fire for a long time, his head turned toward it, leaning against his chair. The firelight made his skin glow like a god's and shadows played in the angles of his throat and collarbone, his scar gleaming a bright white. He was more beautiful with dark hair, it gave his face the contrast it had been missing and made his eyes look even more other-worldly in their navy color. Even with his tormented feelings swimming in my head, I couldn't help but be in awe of how perfect he was. I knew he hated himself, but in that moment I felt like I loved him enough for the both of us. I knew he was good, even if he didn't believe it himself.

My mind snagged on the word that came to mind when I thought of him; love. I suppose I had known for a long time, but I had been too proud to admit it, even to my own mind. I had buried it for the past months and now it almost felt like a revelation. I first realized I loved him when I thought I had lost him, when I thought the Serpentine's poison was going to take him, but now it seemed natural to connect the words in my mind. I loved James, at least in some way, in my way.

I took a chance and broke the silence. I needed to let him know that I didn't think any less of him. He needed to know that someone cared about him no matter what he had done in his past, or who his father was. I honestly didn't care. Mine could be even worse. I took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to whatever was out there to give me the right words.

"I guess I should think of a new name for you then, since you don't really look like a lion anymore. Maybe wolf. You've always looked like one, I just couldn't notice because of the hair."

I reached out and touched the end of his darkened hair where it had fallen in front of his face.

He slowly moved his eyes to mine, his face still turned to the fire. His eyes were shaded by thick, dark lashes making them look as black as his hair. He looked so broken, with the same tortured look in his eyes I had seen glimpses of before, but now it was laid bare for anyone to see. I was glad we were alone. He didn't need others to see him like this. Others didn't deserve it. We sat there for a while, in front of his fire, feeling the heat slowly thaw my mind into realizing what all he had told me.

Finally, James spoke.

"A wolf in lion's clothing," he let out a hard, humorless chuckle. "So, I don't remind you of a lion anymore, not regal enough?"

He was trying to sound mischievous, but I wasn't buying it.

"Actually, I always thought wolves were more majestic. They're my favorite animal."

He watched me silently, searching for something in my face, looking through me almost. But then he seemed to give up his hunt and stared back into the fire, arms clasped around the tops of his knees. After a few minutes I started to worry that he was building his walls up again, preparing to be cold and hard. I didn't want to lose him to that again, this was the most human I had ever seen him. I didn't want him to lose that.

I reached out and ran my fingers lightly through his hair. It was just as soft and smooth as the last time. I ran my hand all the way back to his neck.

He stiffened at my touch like he had forgotten I was there and I paused, thinking I had crossed some boundary. I realized I was holding my breath and slowly let it out as I pulled my hand back. I looked at the fire instead, watching the flames jump and die down.

I felt a hand lightly grasp my wrist. I looked over cautiously and was met by the same searching look, his dark eyes looking for something in mine. Slowly, James leaned down, laying his head in my lap and placing my hand in his hair.

I was surprised by the uncharacteristic move from James, but every part of my being just wanted to comfort him. I stroked his dark hair back, just like I had when he was pulled into his memory. I combed his hair through my fingers while he stared into the flames. Incrementally, I felt him relax, his head easing into my lap, getting heavier until he was nestled completely against me. Eventually, his eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

We stayed like that for a long time, me petting his hair while he silently laid in my lap. He really did remind me of a wolf. I almost dozed once or twice, my hands still in his hair, but then I would wake and realize it wasn't a dream. I'd look down at James and not be able to help but smile at how natural it all felt. A wolf on my lap, in front of his fire. It was one of the times I was smiling down at him that he spoke next.

"Would you like to hear a rhyme my father used to tell me when I was a child?"

His voice was sleepily murmured, his eyes still closed. Seeing him like this and being so close to him was making me feel strange, like I could float. I felt connected to him in a way I had never felt with another person before. It scared me, but it was James, it was my partner, my Twin. I could trust him. I pushed his soft hair back as I replied in a quiet voice.

"You can tell me anything you want."

I saw a small smile play on his lips for a moment before it disappeared and he spoke:

"Leave love to the damned and be destroyed by her soft hands.
Leave mercy to the Fallen and have your power stolen.
Leave faith to the deprived and it will unravel your mind.
Leave kindness to the strong and be haunted by your wrongs.
Leave trust to the dark and be weakened by your heart.
Leave a heart in your chest and it will surely be your death."

I felt my chest constrict a moment before the sadness hit. What a terrible poem to tell a child, that love and kindness would be your downfall, that faith would take your sanity, that caring for something would kill you.

"That's horrible," I said quietly.

There was a long pause and I thought James had fallen asleep. I found myself listening to the fire crackling as I continued to play with his hair, and then he broke the silence.

"Hm, yeah, I guess it is."

He had a small smile on his face again, but it was bitter at the edges.

"I used to believe it too, every word. For years, it's all I knew, and then, I couldn't live like that anymore. I stopped and I tried, but they will always die...and what do I believe now?"

James wasn't making sense anymore, his words were strung too close together and I could tell he was close to sleep. I continued to run my fingers through his dark hair until his breathing evened and he looked peaceful again.

Parents, percentages, the past and the truth!
Not all demons are in Hell, some are inside us.
I always did like my men with dark hair...

Next chapter = more feels = I die ㅠㅠ

T