If the world was ending you’d come over, right?

[Jack Ripley]

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," he confessed, eyes half closing. Brayden's hands were nice things, nice on his hair, nice on his skin. Hard to believe anything about Brayden Smith wasn't nice, though. And he knew Brayden meant what he said and that he would listen but Jack didn't know what to say. He didn't know where to begin--just like he said.

There was a lot to unpack. Plus, there was already a mountain of problems currently crushing the both of them. Did he really need to add onto that right now? Brayden was grieving. He'd just lost his parents, for good this time. The last thing he needed to hear was the details of the nightmares, how Jack knew how each one of those boys died and how it still felt like they died at his hands. How he woke with their blood spattered over him, their blood on his hands. How after a while, he just believed that was who he was and he would just... find people like poor Alejo and fuck like monsters.

Because he thought he was a monster. He felt like a monster. It would probably take the rest of his damn life to put that behind him. And he wondered if he had the strength in him to do it. When Brayden was close like this, he felt like he could. But what about when they weren't together?

"Have I closed the door to my nightmares, Brayden?" he asked, recalling the warnings his student had given him more than once. Even if his status as a person was under speculation, Raphael seemed pretty adamant about that part. Closing his nightmares to him. A crease formed between his brows.

"But what if he's in there and I close the door? What if I lock him in there with me? Is... that a thing?"

[Brayden Smith]

Bray wouldn't know where to start, either. Honestly trying to cram a lifetime of horror into one single discussion didn't seem rational or reasonable—which was why he wasn't asking Jack for more than he was ready to share. Bits and pieces would leak out slowly, he was sure. When the thoughts came to Jack, when it was time to share them, Bray would be here with an open mind—and a shoulder to lean on, if needed. That was what it meant to love someone, opening up his whole heart to them, letting them in and letting himself be vulnerable—creating a safe space for them be vulnerable, too, with him. 

"It's okay. Take your time," he murmured again, still reassuringly, still soothingly touching Jack's hair, his jaw, his face, admiring his features with the tips of his fingers. Touch was such a wonderful thing. The warmth of another human hand doing something as mundane as passing a thumb over the rise of a cheekbone could convey so much more than words. Bray shifted closer in order to draw Jack closer, so that he could wrap his arms around him and protect him from all of those terrible, stark nightmares that came to plague him in the dead of night.

"I don't know if it's possible to lock him out fully, Jack. He's had so many years to map out the layout of your mind..." Keith probably knew more ways in than they could imagine. He had free reign all those years, coming and going as he pleased, probably leaving himself cracks and secret hidden pathways. Bray was adept at weaving through dreams but even he didn't have the expertise to close up all of those cracks and so... unfortunately, the sad truth was that Keith would probably always have access to Jack's dreams.

"But I promise. I'll wake you up any time you have another nightmare." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Even if it means pouring cold water over you." Something he refused to do when they first met—and something he still wouldn't do, because there were other, gentler ways of pulling Jack out of his nightmares.

[Jack Ripley]

Jack grimaced; that was what he was afraid of; that there was no way to lock Keith out of his mind or his nightmares for good. The idea that he had a map of his mind worried him. Just thinking about it made his palms feel chilled and itchy and he swallowed hard. Keith had a map of his mind; he didn't need a key. He could brute force his way inside if he wanted to, because he knew where all the weak parts were.

"There has to be a way..." he murmured, toying with Brayden's hand, feeling his fingers down to their length, feeling his palm with his own fingertips. There had to be some way of barricading himself safely from him. That or just... getting rid of him.

Jack didn't doubt that Brayden would save him somehow from his nightmares. But he couldn't expect Brayden to be there, awake every second that Jack was sleeping. Of course, he had that dream walking ability of his, which meant he could maybe keep him safe even while they were both asleep. But Jack didn't much like the idea of the two of them meeting up in there. (And what would happen if they did?!)

"I can't believe how long it took me to see through him, B. He was never a nice guy. But I thought..." He shrugged one shoulder in embarrassment at admitting to the following: "I thought he loved me. I was kind of an idiot at that age, though."

[Brayden Smith]

"I'm sure there is a way, I'm... not an expert. We can find someone to help. Maybe Raphael, he seemed to know a little." At least he knew enough to tell Jack to close off his dreams, so there had to be more. Maybe they could consult a sage... If there were still any about, that was. Bray would of course do his utmost to help Jack, in any way that he could, but here unfortunately he was out of his depth.

Still. It was possible. It had to be!

He smiled down at Jack's little shoulder twist, the embarrassment in his tone coloring his words. "You couldn't have known his true intentions, Jack. How could you? He... He was playing with your mind, with your thoughts and memories. And you had no defense against him." Bray lightly kissed the tip of his nose. His handsome nose, on his handsome face. "It was never your fault. None of it was ever your fault, Jack."

[Jack Ripley]

"That's true..." But Jack didn't want to say that he had his misgivings about Raphael, that the reason Marge left with him was to find out more about what he knew. Jack wanted to trust the kid; he was such a happy-go-lucky kid and he seemed earnest. Jack meant it when he promised him but he didn't know the whole story then. (Honestly, he still didn't know it.)

"And... I know... I just..." He felt like a fool. But he had been a kid back then, and an impressionable one at that. One that desired affection more than anything else. Even the worst attention was attention. His mother didn't even give him that most of the time. It was better to hear her berate him than to suffer her silence. So he turned to Keith. First love. And really, really really bad for him. As it turned out, way worse than even he knew.

He ran a hand over Brayden's wrist and up his arm.

"I'm just afraid he's going to do something to you next." He swallowed hard. "It wasn't me... but I still got all those people killed. And... now that vision. That person claiming to be my father... A lot of people want your head, B. That scares me."

[Brayden Smith]

Bray imagined that Jack felt like he did, when he and Wyatt broke up. Even though Bray knew full well at the time that Wyatt treated him badly, that he cheated on him, that he was only using Bray, it didn't stop him from wanting love. To love someone, to be loved, to have their attention and affection and time, no matter how pitiful that was or how little of any of those things were given. Scraps to some could mean the world to others. Those who had nothing, when given even a little, meant a lot.

So he understood the embarrassment, the ruefulness, the regret. But Jack was better than that now. He had real love—true love, not only from Bray but from his friends, too, like Marge and Allie. There was a real network of support around him to lift him up and not to tear him down the way Keith had been doing for so many years. Bray knew that Jack was aware of what he had, too; otherwise he wouldn't feel the way he did.

"I know." Bray was in the way. He closed his eyes briefly, swallowed, let his thoughts collect and really sink in. A lot of people wanted him gone. Keith went so far as to try and kill him—and damn well near succeeded too! Jack's father assaulted him from far away, warning him against continuing to stay with Jack and yet... "I'm not afraid." He opened his eyes and looked at Jack with a sort of dawning realization. "I... I'm not leaving you for anything, Jack. We'll just have to be careful, that's all."

How could he leave all of this behind? The way Jack looked at him, the way he touched him, his kisses, his warmth and his adoration and humor and spirit, everything that was Jack Ripley made Bray glad to be alive. Made him feel more alive than he ever had. He couldn't leave now, not when he had finally found his heart's desire in Jack. Bray kissed him softly and he smiled coming out of it. "We'll protect each other. No matter what they throw at us, as long as we're together, I'm sure we'll be fine."

[Jack Ripley]

How could he not be afraid? Jack was petrified. He was going to lose everything he ever had and if he did... if he lost Brayden... he didn't think he could ever be the same afterward. In fact, he would rather die than see a world without Brayden. When he waited those hours and hours for Brayden to come to after what happened with Keith before... Jack couldn't do it. Face the world without him? Even with good, supportive friends in the world, what was left without Brayden, if he took all the color and magic with him?

"Hm..."

Jack frowned. It wasn't as if he was telling Brayden to leave him or that they shouldn't be together. The target was already painted on Brayden's back, whether they were together or not. But... He wondered... He wondered in silence, staring into the middle distance as he toyed with Brayden's hand again. What would happen if Jack surrendered, though? If he did what his father wanted and left to become a fallen in the fairy realm? There would no longer be a point in hunting or harming Brayden, would there?

He lowered his gaze, the knot in his throat tightening with the thought. At the same time as Brayden spoke of never leaving him, Jack was considering leaving. What was wrong with him? His eyes shuttered closed as he was kissed. Sweet. Loving. And when he slowly opened his eyes, Brayden was smiling at him so gently. Jack ran a hand over Brayden's stomach around his waist to hold onto him, to hold him close as he turned more towards him.

"Together." He had his misgivings. But he wanted to believe so desperately.

[Brayden Smith]

"I'm not giving up on us, Jack." Bray turned into Jack, letting his eyes close again as he breathed him in and nuzzled against his temple. "I'm not—they're not breaking us."

They were bound. They bound one another by the exchange of their True names and so they were destined to be together. They had lived all of those lifetimes, the ones in the visions, sometimes apart but more often together. Fate and the universe had a plan in mind for them but Bray didn't think it was to wedge them apart. They had the proof of concept to go with his words—they had spent many, many good lifetimes in each other's arms and Bray had to believe that this was was no different.

He whispered Jack's True name, right beside his ear, a secret only meant for Bray. That name had power—it was a contract for their souls, signed in love and devotion and fierce determination not to let anyone come between them. And by the gods, Bray was going to fight tooth and nail to keep them together. He had never been infused with so much purpose. He had never felt this strongly before and not only that, but felt compelled to act—to be proactive rather than to sit back and let life trample all over him.

"Don't ever give up on us. Okay?"

[Jack Ripley]

He held Brayden tighter and closed his eyes as Brayden spoke his True Name into his ear. Burying his head into the crook of his neck, he breathed him in. Don't give up. He couldn't give up. They had given themselves fully to one another and Brayden didn't want to give up. It... wouldn't be fair for Jack to just give up on him now. And that was exactly what he'd be doing if he surrendered in order to try and save Brayden.

It wouldn't save him, would it? Even if it left him alive, he could only imagine how much it would kill Brayden for Jack to just walk into the arms of the enemy, especially if he did it in the name of Brayden himself. That wasn't what he wanted for him. For them.

"I won't," he said against Brayden's throat before kissing him reverently there. His eyes closed. "Don't let me give up on us. Keep reminding me."