All That We Say or Seem

by Cole Delacour

  I struggled, pushing myself up one for the pain to knock me down once more. Carreau cooed, "Oh, poor boy, you can't win." Leaving Ose, he knelt before me, brushing Gray's fingers over my face. "But think - you and Gray get to be together forever. In death, and your bodies, in life. We're so thankful he found you. Perfect little host - so receptive and needy. You were desperate, and even better, you were just my type."

  A blur of white flew across the room. Crashing into Ose, the form slammed its head down again and again, crying out more curses than I could have claimed to have known.

  "Not. This. Time!" Rory cried, beating his head against Ose's over and over, leaving the man bloodied in the entrance to the watch. Standing, he swirled. The long sleeves of his straitjacket twirling as his bloodied hands hung at his side. "James! Grab him!"

  I threw myself forward, wrapping my arms around Gray as Rory slapped the knife away. With a jerk, he shifted my sleeves, forcing the markings on my arms to press against one another. All along my skin, the tattoos burned.

  "I'm not a idiot, Carreau," Rory spat into Gray's face. Sparks jumped from my body, and with each beat of my heart, I could see the electricity manifest, growing brighter and brighter as if I would go supernova. "Nobody's getting inside that body, and you're sure as shit coming out of this one."

  Struggling, Carreau bellowed. His features - the shadow of his phantom form split, pulling and twisting before combining once more with Gray's face. "I've won, you pathetic worm. Even if Viktor can't take the other one, this body is mine."

  Bloodied to an almost featureless pulp, Ose groaned, "Edmond..."

  "He's already pulled me through the veil. Unless you want him to burn with me, I'm free," Carreau insisted, but I held firm. The rage and desperation and longing growing hotter and hotter within me until the light blinded me as the world careened so far from what I believed to be true, but hadn't that been the way of it - Crables Manor existed in a dimension unto itself. Monstrous. Impossible. "Ink can't stop me!"

  His face peeled, shadow stretching as Gray screamed. The two splitting and pulling back together only to part once more in my arms.

  "Rory - the roof," I yelled as I struggled to hold fast.

  Rory's eyes drifted up. Wiping blood from his face, he sighed. "Florence?"

  One-two one-two

  All in black, she came from the watch. Her hair coiled upon her head - loose but firmly held. Her skirt swooshed around her feet. Round and full as her waist was tightly cinched and small. Older than I expected considering her story.

  Brushing her hands over her skirts, she tilted her head, watching as Carreau and Gray fought against one another. In a low voice, she announced, "That will not do."

  In a blast of light, she moved. Her hand grabbed the shadowy visage of Carreau, wrenching him free from my grasp.

  As Florence threw Carreau into the flames behind her, the floor buckled and broke beneath us, sending me and Gray down onto the creaking remains of his bedroom floor. All the air rushed from my lungs, but my arms held tight.

  Spots. Black and white blocked my sight until Gray shifted, struggling to roll off me. "James - you've got to get up," he urged. "We have to get out of here."

  "Gray?" I tentatively reached, cupping his cheek.

  His eyes glistened as he pressed into my touch. "Yes, it's me. You did it."

  "Had more than a little help."

  He laughed. I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I last heard him laugh, but I missed it more than anything. Struggling to my feet, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he held his about my waist - pressing his hand against my wound.

  "I'm so sorry," he whispered again and again as he half-dragged me down the stairs.

  "It wasn't you." Gray nodded, but he apologized once more when I winced as he headed toward the front door. "Police might still be out. We should go out the back."

  "Police?"

  "Long story."

  Shaking his head, Gray opened the door regardless. "I've been in this house long enough. If the police want to complain about trespassing, I'll make my apologies."

  "Gray - that's not -" but out we went. A few people mulled about in the street, but the police were gone. Cheyenne hovered on the other side of the tape, and when she saw us, all the blood rushed from her face.

  "Oh my god...you weren't lying," she whispered, lifting the tape for us. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at Gray. Her lips parted without any sound until I groaned, and she saw blood dripping down my side. "Oh my god! You're bleeding!"

  I tried to reply, but the world went sideways.

  "James!" Gray caught me as Cheyenne rushed forward.

  "Move," a deep voice commanded, and Cheyenne blubbered before shifting out of the way. "Cheyenne, call 9-1-1. Tell them we need an ambulance outside Crables Manor."

  "Professor Haggard -"

  "Go!"

  Gray held my hand, holding tight to me. "James - hold on. Please."

  Whatever mode Professor Haggard went into as he pressed on my wound, he stuttered when he looked up at Gray's face. "You're dead."

  Clinging to me, Gray gasped, "What?"

  "You're dead. You're Theodore Thompson. You're supposed to be dead."

  The pain ebbed away even as the darkness drew nearer, and here his hands lessened in pressure as he panicked. "I might be dying - can we focus on my having not lied to you and Gray being alive after I'm no longer bleeding?"

  "Shit! Yes, sorry - but he's - and you..."

  The last thing I saw was Professor Haggard shaking his head as he pressed hard, struggling to staunch the bleed even as his entire understanding of life and death crumbled.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Beams of sunlight cascaded, dripping warmth into the clinical white of the room. Monitors beeped, but while the hospital seemed so cold before, soft heat curled around me. Kept me gently cradled. All from a simple touch. A hand curled around mine - the warmth of a body alongside me.

  Blinking, I shifted. No pain. A dull ache - maybe - but tubes pulled at my arm. They had me on the good stuff. Snuffling closer to the dark hair leaning against my shoulder, I sighed, almost purring in contentment.

  "James?" Gray shifted, rubbing his eyes.

  "Hm?"

  My heart swelled in my chest, almost exploding at the sight of him. Pale face, high cheekbones, bright eyes, and the loose dark lines of his sleep-tousled hair. Blinking away the tears, I bit my lip. I had to keep it together. We did it. No reason to cry - but relief overwhelmed me. Half-laughing, half-crying, I reached for him. Our foreheads pressed together. The soft gusts of his laughing breaths - the wide smile of his face as he pressed close to me. Warm and solid - for all his slim form - there, there in my arms.

  "Hi," I whispered.

  Pressing a quick kiss to my lips, he laughed - I'd never heard a more beautiful sound. "Hello."

  "I missed you." I cupped his face, tracing the sharp angle of his jaw. "I missed you so much. I thought - I thought I wouldn't make it in time..."

  He shushed me gently, pressing kisses over my face. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm safe now. We're safe now."

  "You don't have to - if you don't want to - I don't want you to feel like you have to be with - "

  He silenced me with a kiss. His body pressed against mine. The weight of him drew me back to the warm safety of those scattered sunbeams, and I wanted to be upset. Wanted to comment on the cliche of him kissing me silent, but he was here. Gray was alive and in my arms, and there was nothing that could destroy how much I wanted him to want to be there with me. To love me in the same confusing, all-consuming way I loved him.

  In the hope of a softer love. A love which could last - passionate and hot even as it gentled between us. Comfort and confidence in its strength. I wanted that walking down the street hand-in-hand to get groceries sort of love. Side by side on the subway - heads bowed over one phone sort of love. Getting an apartment and arguing cat or dog kind of love.

  "I love you
," he confessed - his breath warm against my lips. "Believe me, James, I have no intention of ever staying anywhere out of obligation to anyone."

  Pulling him into another kiss, I moaned. "I love you too."

  "Lovely confession boys, but let's try to keep your heart monitor from going off, James. You're making the nurses nervous," Professor Haggard announced from the door.

  Gray blushed - pink rising to his cheeks as he slipped from the bed to a chair beside it. "Apologies, Dr. Haggard."

  At that, Professor Haggard sighed. "That will never stop being strange."

  "Sorry," Gray repeated. "I'd love to say you'll get used to it, but I'm rather baffled myself."

  "I'm glad you're here."

  Gray's eyes softened as he took my hand. "Me too."

  "Yes - you are both very lucky to be alive - especially the young man who died over fifty years ago," Professor Haggard announced, sliding the door closed behind him. "Now, James - we kept your original hold from your parents because you are eighteen; however, you were stabbed, so we had to reach out to your emergency contact - "

  No - oh, no. This was not how I wanted them to find out. My eyes darted around the room, but I couldn't see them, so probably they couldn't see me. My hand which held Gray's tightened. "No - I don't want them here."

  "James..." Professor Haggard trailed off, looking exceedingly uncomfortable.

  Gray shifted closer to me. "He's awake and not a minor. He doesn't have to see them if he doesn't want to."

  "We've informed her that you've been stabbed and about your psych hold as a result of Tom's call," Professor Haggard pressed on, focusing on me as if he couldn't fully bear to confront all the truths Gray represented. "She asked to see you -"

  "And I'm sure she'll refuse to pay even a penny the second she realizes I'm in here with my boyfriend," I retorted.

  Professor Haggard rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Your student medical insurance covers all of this. I've also taken on any discrepancy as it was my fault you ran off to go to your boyfriend - my brother's son, and stop him from going down his father's footsteps into addiction."

  My brain crashed - blue screen of death - blank. "What?"

  "Theodore 'Gray' Haggard - my young nephew, who I only recently discovered as he ran away from a foster home after his mother's death - "

  "But Rory died in 1984..."

  Waving a hand, Haggard huffed, "Grandnephew - god only knows, but I'm adopting the poor kid."

  "Wouldn't it be easier if he wasn't related to anybody in particular?" I suggested, and Gray nodded though he seemed rather pleased to be associated with Rory in any way. "Anyway - you're not making me forget. I don't want my mother here. I'm not - " But why wasn't I? She'd have to learn eventually, right? "Fine." I pressed a kiss to the back of Gray's hand. "No point in delaying the inevitable."

  Gray's brows furrowed. "James - if you want, I can -"

  "No. This is who I am. Either she accepts that, or..." I shrugged.

  Professor Haggard adjusted his white jacket with a sigh. "That's - um...a very brave choice. I understand how hard that must be for you, but...James, she's already left."

  "Oh."

  That didn't matter. My mother hadn't even bothered to hear any sort of explanation from me. She hadn’t fought or screamed or anything. I meant so little to her that she came - and what? Saw me and Gray? Immediately knew exactly who I was because as much as I tried to hide it, I mean, Simon knew. Maybe she always suspected. And none of that mattered because I ceased to exist to her at that moment.

  It was better this way. Better that she left. All these tears, they were for Gray. Because I had him back. I saved him. He loved me, and I loved him, and nobody else mattered. Not really. Not as much. Because I always knew what would happen when they found out. This wasn't going to be a happily ever after in that way. My parents wouldn't even think twice about it. I meant nothing to them if I wasn't exactly what they had intended me to be, right?

  Crawling back into the bed, Gray curled around me, softly whispering, "I'm so sorry. You're going to be fine. I swear - everything will be fine."

  "Why?" The question escaped me though I knew exactly why. Professor Haggard opened his mouth to answer, but I couldn’t hear the words. I knew Gray would blame himself. Shaking my head, I wiped my tears away. "I don't want to know. Just - did she say she'd be back?"

  When the professor shook his head, a weight almost lifted. Abandonment hurt, but for years, I had struggled beneath the weight of would-they-wouldn't-they always knowing deep down this would be the end result. Anyway, compared to everything else, getting disowned hardly rated, right? It was better this way. Better it was over.

  Pressing my face into the crook of Gray's neck, I breathed him in - the scent of him curling around me as warm and pure as the sunlight still streaming in - no dimmer for all that had happened.

  Epilogue

  Sitting on my lap, Gray glowered at his notebook. As he hummed, paging through it, I rested my chin on his shoulder and adjusted my arms wrapped around his waist.

  "If I quit and don't get my GED, will you still love me?" Gray grumbled.

  I laughed and pressed a kiss to his neck. "What would you do?"

  "Telephone psychic. I'd be amazing at it," he asserted even as he shifted to mathematics. "Oh, math, at least you haven't changed."

  When the door opened, we both glanced up as Tom entered. I couldn't blame him for his part in getting me held over winter break. Nine times out of ten, he would have saved my life. Still, our relationship hadn't recovered. He worried. I came out, and while Tom might've been the perfect roommate for somebody, we couldn't find a way back to anything more than the most lukewarm of friendships.

  With a nod, I shifted back as Gray returned to his studying. "Hey, man."

  "Hey, you both coming to dinner with the crew tonight?" Tom asked, tossing his bag on his desk.

  I shook my head. "We're meeting Alexander and Chad for dinner. Apparently, Alexander's friends with somebody who knows the chef at this place downtown."

  "Are those two dating?"

  Gray snorted, holding back a laugh. "We’ll probably never know."

  "Well, I'll leave you two to it. See ya later, James. Bye, Gray!" and with a little wave, Tom raced off as we both quietly returned the sentiment.

  Shutting his notebook, Gray turned in my arms. "If you're not rooming with him next semester, who's the fourth in your suite?"

  "Some guy on the football team," I offered with a shrug, nuzzling against his smooth skin. "If you don't get your GED, odds are you can't get into Harvard - which means we can't room together for my junior year."

  He groaned, shoving me backward into the mattress as he tossed his notebook onto my nightstand. "What if I want to go to Boston College?"

  "We'll get an apartment."

  Straddling my hips, he huffed. "And if I decide to go straight to work?"

  "We'd probably have an easier time getting an apartment." I tucked a lock of his dark hair behind one of his perfect pale ears. As his brows furrowed, I smiled. "Honestly, Gray, you've got time to decide. Thanks to Dr. Kedves, I've got an internship up here for the summer and housing thanks to Ari."

  "He does have a nice house..." Gray pursed his lips. "Maybe I should become a psychiatrist too. Between the hospital and teaching here, he lives a truly comfortable life."

  I couldn't resist drawing him down into a kiss. "He's also a trust fund kid, so..."

  "Well, damn! So was I. The mistakes I've made," he jokingly lamented though in his eyes, some truth existed behind his words.

  Whether by death or choice, we both missed our parents. His father died shortly after his supposed death. We visited the grave every few weeks. My heart had raced at the gravestone beside his father's - I never wanted to see Gray's full name in that way ever again. Mine still hadn't contacted me since the hospital, and my phone plan had 'mysteriously' been cancelled without a word.

  Professor Haggard added me to his when he added Gray. For how hap
py the man always seemed, his life was incredibly empty of people, but he seemed to like it that way. Even with Gray about, he didn't bother to be terribly social outside of comments tossed here and there as he raced around. Even the ring on his left hand served to keep people away rather than as a symbol of any sort of matrimony.

  We didn't exactly talk about that. Not with him at least. I had my suspicions, but the way he immediately stepped up to help me and Gray afterward won me over. He had no intention to confide in either of us about Rory, but last time I had seen Zeke, he seemed to think Professor Haggard had had some sort of emotional catharsis. If Haggard cried half as much in joy at Gray being real as Zeke, then he was probably right.

  Legs entangled on my dorm room bed, we curled together, breathing the calm - the warmth of contentment which grew more and more familiar. Admittedly, it didn't last long. We were both young and in love, and if we met Alexander and Chad still a bit breathless, nobody could blame us. After years of hiding who I was, my days were so much better than my dreams. We were alive. Together - in love.