Greys IV - Chains

Chapter 42 - Try

I sat in my room early in the morning, trying to ignore the heat and needles that covered me from James' presence next door. He had been there all night, not sleeping - I wasn't sure he even did anymore - just there. And so I had stayed too, osculating between enjoying and despising the feeling of him near, our connection that smoldered sometimes and burned me others, the current that was sometimes just a buzz, a vibration, and others a shake that made me grit my teeth like I was touching a wire. But that wasn't the worst, that was nothing compared to the ice that touched my veins ever-so-often, so cold it almost felt the same as the fire. It had taken me a few times to even place it, to recognize it as cold.

I hadn't used my Sight, I didn't want to, or I did but I didn't let myself. It seemed an invasion, or too intimate. I feared he would somehow know, along with what I would see. So instead, I sat torturing myself, feeling him torture himself. Finally, I gave up and laid back, deciding to pretend to be asleep until I actually was. But then the headache started and I allowed myself to slip into the oncoming vision.

James sat at the end of his bed, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He looked straight ahead, his brow furrowed. Then his jaw tensed and he winced, just slightly, his hands shaking where they hung between his knees. I shivered as the familiar cold crept down my spine.

I stood watching him for a few minutes. It was like he was in a trance, or meditating, just staring ahead, a line between his eyebrows. Then it happened again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, clasping his hands to stop their tremor. Cold rushed down my body, and I hugged my arms around myself. I heard a soft rumble come from James, but it wasn't like his usual ones, this one wasn't angry or pleased, it was pained, more of a soft groan than a growl. When his eyes opened, he let go of his hands and stared forward again, preparing for the next.

I waited and watched and saw more, so many more, and I hated each one. Why couldn't he control his feral mind? And why could I feel the collar's punishments now? I never had before, back when we were closer, more connected. There was no reason it should be stronger now - unless our Fallen blood was directly linked to our connection and where before it had been his half connected to my half, now it was all of him connected to mine. But that would mean we were more joined now, and I didn't want to consider that.

I continued to watch, because there was nothing else I could do, and I felt the death-like cold creep over me each time, saw his reaction each time, the little movements that showed me he felt it, felt something that had made Malachi writhe screaming on the floor, that had made the old James collapse, his forehead pressed to the floorboards of the gym.

Now he just closed his eyes.

That alone was enough to make me feel sick to my stomach, but the vision didn't waver, didn't thin, and so I sat crosslegged on the floor before him, my chin in my hands, waiting for it to end. I already knew the purpose: he was still my Pair, and he was trying. He was suffering to do the right thing, just the same as he used to, just like I had wished he would.

He had been sitting here nearly all night, trying to direct his mind away from the bloody thoughts I assumed were commonplace for a Fallen. He had asked Abby to give him the means to train himself away from his nature. He had even been open with me about what he needed - I just hadn't believed him. And now my vision was the cherry on top, the exclamation point shouting that I was wrong, and that my distrust was hurting those around me.

Instincts be damned. I took the plunge.

"Fine!" I yelled at the phantom James' ceiling. "You win, now let me wake up!"

I sat bolt upright in my bed, gasping like I had been held underwater. I was cold, my muscles tensed, and everything hurt...but I knew why. James was hurting himself again.