Chaos and Communion

Chapter 1-2

“These were supposed to be for Emma’s birthday,” Gideon said as he walked around the bed to light a matching pair on the other nightstand. “To replace that s**t she keeps torturing me with. But I’ll get her something else, I think. I want these for tonight.”

Jesse didn’t know what was in the candles or where Gideon bought them, but he found them very relaxing, like they were releasing something in the air besides their mellow aroma. Gideon’s skin looked almost golden in the light, and Jesse wanted to touch the expanse of his back and test the texture of his skin.

“They’re very nice. I like them.”

Gideon didn’t come back down the length of the bed, choosing instead to sit on the edge near its head. Catching Jesse’s eye, he beckoned him forward with two fingers, then gestured toward the floor in front of him. “Come here, boy.”

The familiar command settled around him like a well-worn blanket, and he found himself crawling toward Gideon without a thought. Once he was in front of Gideon, he inhaled, and was able to detect a trace of the other man beneath the scent of the candles. When he was at the spot Gideon pointed at, he straightened to his knees.

“Lay your head down.”

The candles kept Gideon’s face half in shadows, but the half that wasn’t was calm and inviting. This wasn’t a harsh command meant for punishment. This was a quiet directive, sure and simple. Gideon’s voice held the respite Jesse hadn’t realized he needed, permission to let go without fears. He got that so little anymore.

Jesse bent so his cheek could rest comfortably on Gideon’s thigh. Once again, he wanted to spill everything to Gideon. I’ve been trying, I swear. But nothing seems right. But the way Gideon touched him—his fingers light on his cheek and jaw and in his hair—made Jesse think talking would be redundant. Clearly, Gideon knew enough to know that Jesse needed this comfort of being close to him. So maybe that would be enough for now.

“It’s a shame about the snow.” The low tones of Gideon’s voice were hypnotic, made more so by the dim lighting. Though he hadn’t been given instructions to do so, Jesse closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of the hard muscle beneath his cheek, borrowing its strength as he focused on what Gideon was saying. “I kind of hoped we might get out to Osaka Garden when we were done. It’s been too long since we’ve been there.”

Jesse nodded in agreement. He had a clear image of Gideon standing on the Moon Bridge, the water reflected on his face, the moon in his eyes, as he stared out over the tranquil pool. Jesse had taken Emma there, and she had glowed in the sun. The two images weren’t separate. They were overlaid in his memory, like a double exposure of a photograph. The Osaka Garden was always a favorite of his, but in the past six months, all of those memories took on a new dimension of gratitude—gratitude he had been there, that he could go back, that these two people were in his life, that he was in theirs.

“Maybe we can go tomorrow,” Jesse whispered.

“If the snow stops, we’ll make a date of it. You, me, and Emma.”

Jesse nodded. In that room, in the dim light, with Gideon so close, it seemed impossible to think anything bad could happen to him—or could have ever happened to him. It was easy to agree to go out without hesitation, like everything had drifted back to normal. He discarded the excuses he might have reached for. Now wasn’t the time for excuses. Now he just wanted to believe the feeling of warmth and safety would follow him into the next day.

Gideon’s fingers drifted downward, over his neck and the hair that was too long again, stroking along muscles twisted and torn from more than exertion. They touched that point between Jesse’s shoulder blades, that small valley between bone and sinew that seemed to be Gideon’s new favorite spot to caress. Jesse sighed as the small circles Gideon rubbed into his skin smoothed over the knot he didn’t want to admit owning.

“Tell me what you want, boy.”

Jesse didn’t respond for a long time. He couldn’t. Too many words clawed at his throat. But not answering wasn’t an option, either. Gideon’s tone made that clear, and it wouldn’t occur to Jesse to ignore a command, no matter how gently issued.

“I want to stay here with you,” he began haltingly. “I want to be able to fix everything. I want to not be…scared. I want to forget.”

“You’ll always be with me.” A second hand joined the first, this one massaging biceps that had no reason to ache but did. “Always. That is the one thing I can promise you, boy. With complete and utter faith. Because I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“I know,” Jesse murmured. And he did. The foundation of his faith in Gideon had never been tested. He just wished he could be the person he used to be. All of the personal insecurities were boiling to the surface now. Jesse didn’t have the strength to push it all back. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Because you’re scared?” Gideon grasped Jesse’s chin and lifted his head, forcing Jess to gaze up at him in the murky light. “After everything you’ve gone through, everything we’ve gone through together, I’d be more worried if you weren’t scared. And, frankly, I don’t think it’s possible for me to be more worried about you than I am right now.”

Jesse thought of all the lengths he went to cover his mistakes and confusion, all the smiles he forced himself to wear so they wouldn’t worry, all the times he insisted he was just fine. And realized that living with a vampire and an empath, he’d probably never really had a chance.

“I’m going to be fine.” The words were automatic and he was sorry he said them.

Gideon’s jaw hardened. “I hate that f*****g word. Because you’re not. You’re not eating, and you’re not sleeping, and there’s absolutely nothing fine”—the way he sneered it, the word might as well have been a cutting slur—”about how you hold back from us. Emma, I almost understand. You’ve always tried to protect her from anything you thought would hurt her. Ever since the beginning.” The grip on his chin pinched, almost painful now. “But this is me. And I can take it. But you’re not letting me.”

Jesse didn’t try to look away, but he was at a loss. He didn’t know how to explain himself, and he didn’t think Gideon wanted an apology. So that left the plain, tired truth.

“I know. But I don’t know what to do. I don’t. How am I supposed to sleep when I have nothing but nightmares? And sometimes…the flashbacks aren’t even the worst part. Sometimes…I keep losing time. It’s just gone. Minutes or hours. And I’m trying…”

The fingers on his chin loosened, some of the flint in Gideon’s eyes softening at the same time. “I know you’re trying. But maybe it’s time to admit you need more than I can give you.”

Jesse frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Letting him go, Gideon stood and edged around Jesse, pacing the length of the bed behind him. “I know we tried therapy when we got back from New York, and I know the meds you got weren’t good. But there are others out there, others you haven’t tried. Something has to work.”

“You want me to go back to therapy?” Jesse hadn’t liked the experience the first time around. Of course, it had been utterly impossible for him to actually talk to the psychiatrist about what happened to him. He didn’t have the ability to articulate his feelings, or the patience to learn how.

Gideon stopped at the far end of the bed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I do. Something intensive. Because we’ve let it go for so long.” He paused. “I found an inpatient program that I think is exactly what you need, actually.”

Jesse went cold, his fingers numb. “Gideon, please don’t make me leave.”

“You wouldn’t be leaving. I talked to the doctors. They do the psych eval straight off, get you on the meds as soon as possible. Lots of group and individual sessions to talk about everything. You’d probably be in the hospital for two weeks tops. Just so that you can start getting a grip on the physical symptoms. Then you can come home.”

Jesse shook his head as Gideon spoke, and at the mention of two weeks, his heart seemed to slip. “Please, Gideon. I don’t want to leave. I can’t…not for two weeks. Not for so long. I can’t be alone for that long.”

“You can have visitors. Emma will come every day. And I’ll call.”

“You’ll call?” Jesse stood up now, unmindful of the fact he didn’t have permission. “Gideon…I can’t…the only time anything makes any sense is when we’re together. When Emma touches me and talks to me like everything is normal. And I need you. And you want me to go away for two weeks?”

“And I need you to not hurt anymore.” Gideon advanced, but the strides were determined, not shaded in the anger that had started this shift in their conversation. “Do you think this is easy for me? It’s not. But it’s a hell of a lot easier than knowing nothing I’m doing is working. You’re not any better now than you were six months ago. I have to do something.”

“Something. Yes. Fine. We’ll do something.” He put his hand on Gideon’s arm, hoping the contact would help somehow. “But I can’t go there. I can’t be alone like that. And how would the group sessions work? How could I possibly explain what happened to me? I can’t…” He gestured at his stomach, the skin twisted with scar tissue. “How can I explain this?”

Gideon only glanced at the reminders left from Marcus’s torture. That hurt almost as much as the thought of having to leave.

“I wouldn’t have picked a hospital that you wouldn’t be able to speak freely,” he said, his tone gentler. He cupped Jesse’s face, holding him still as his warm eyes searched his. “I can’t watch you bleed like this anymore. I know this is all my fault. Just let me fix it. That’s all I’m asking.”

“It’s not your fault.” Jesse knew Gideon would blame himself for what happened, for the monster Marcus became, and the things he was driven to do. He knew Gideon’s guilt weighed on him—a burden he shouldn’t be forced to carry. Part of Jesse’s reticence to talk stemmed from that knowledge. Gideon wanted to put the past behind him where it couldn’t hurt them anymore, and Jesse wished he could help with that project. “Can I just have some time to think about this?”

Gideon regarded him for moments on end, unblinking, inscrutable. His broad thumb brushed over Jesse’s mouth, and though Jess had the urge to chase it after the soft caresses stopped, he remained still.

“Of course, you can,” he finally said. “You’ll probably want to review the hospital’s course of treatment. Make sure this is the best fit.”

Jesse nodded. “Thank you.” He moved closer, resting his brow against Gideon’s neck. His heart began beating normally again, and the ice around his limbs began to melt away. How could Gideon really expect him to leave? Jesse was his.

There was a breath of hesitation, and then Gideon’s strong arms folded around his back, pulling him flush against his chest. These were the moments when he could best believe everything was going to be okay. Gideon was the rock upon which Jesse had structured half of his life.

“I love you, boy,” Gideon murmured. “Don’t forget that. Ever.”

“I love you, too.” Jesse clung to him, completely unwilling to put even an inch of space between them. He needed the solid reminder of Gideon’s body.

He waited for the kisses, the touches that always came when Gideon held him like this. When so little else made sense, those always did. But the caress that followed was not what he expected, a brush across his ear as Gideon said, “I need to hold you, but you’ve had a long day. Let’s lay down.”

Jesse nodded and stepped back, but Gideon kept hold of him. They settled on the bed, Jesse’s head resting on Gideon’s shoulder, his face in his neck once again. Gideon seemed content to simply rub his back, and brush his lips across Jesse’s brow on occasion—which wasn’t exactly what Jesse’d had in mind when they came downstairs, but it was still good. Still, he resisted sleep for as long as he could, scared of what he would see when he closed his eyes. But Gideon’s soft caresses and his own exhaustion eventually overwhelmed his fear, and he drifted into an easy, if not deep, sleep.