I know, I know. I said four days and it took me a lot more. I know, believe me, but I wanted it to be perfect to my taste.

So...I guess this is it, folks. The last chapter of a story that took me 4 years to write.

Saying I loved writing this would be really unnecessary; I do, however, want to say that I'm truly, really thankful for the beautiful reviews I got for this. I'm sure most of you know what it feels like to receive one – it's awesome and soo exciting. Thank you so much for that, and I'm sorry if last chapter freaked you guys out.

Then again, that was my intention all along, so...

Again, thank you so much. I learned a lot.

Someone finds salvation in everyone, another only pain.
Someone tries to hide himself, down inside himself he prays.
Someone swears his true love until the end of time, another runs away.
Separate or united, healthy or insane.

Even when you've paid enough, been pulled apart or been held up,
With every single memory of the good or bad faces of luck,
Don't lose any sleep tonight, I'm sure everything will end up alright.
You may win or lose,

But to be yourself is all that you can do.

~Be Yourself by Audioslave.

Through Heaven and Hell:
Epilogue

"Well...that son of a bitch sure can shoot."

"No kidding...that guy lost half his head."

"Dude, I wish I could aim like that!"

"Yeah, 'cause you wouldn't be picking up some stinker at fucking 3 o'clock in the morning if you could, now would ya?"

It was almost dawn. He could see the orange halo of the early-rising, hot star, slowly clawing its way up the stale, indigo sky.

He was seeing, and not really seeing. In a silent daze, he watched as the forensic team waltzed in and out of the scene like it was nothing; like they all were just hanging out on a picnic or something like that. He understood their casual indifference; he was pretty sure every one of them had already seen at least a hundred crime scenes, gorier ones even.

His legs were killing him, and with good reason, seeing as he'd been standing there for almost an hour now. The fact that his career might as well be over and that the chief would probably peel the skin off his bones the minute he got his hands on him, it didn't matter to him, at all.

It was most likely the least of his worries. Right now, all he felt was guilt and sadness because really, it was his entire fault. If only he'd been more professional with the assignment and firmer with his reluctant charge, none of this would've happened.

If only he'd gotten there fifteen minutes earlier...

He's just gone out for a coffee...just that. The strange man he found lurking around the empty car when he returned was the only sign he needed to know something was wrong, so he lingered in the shadows until the man gave his suspicious search up and walked away, towards the poorly illuminated path that led to the park. The scene he found after following him was definitely unexpected.

He should've known something like that could actually happen. Horrible things could happen in a matter of seconds; he knew that, his entire training revolved around that simple fact and he still allowed himself to slack off like a careless, mother-freaking rookie.

Damn...even getting inside Chazz' car felt weird without him there, cracking his trademark, smart-assed jokes and singing along to the same songs over and over again, loud and especially off-tune.

And he missed that — the petty, practical jokes, the loud music and the teasing comments. He missed his friend.

There was a weird, boiling feeling steaming behind his sight, and it clashed with the horrible hole in his chest every waking moment, but he still refused to shed any tears.

Instead, he bit his tongue and shut his eyes tightly. Chazz would beat him down if he did, so he kept strong.

(Three weeks later)

He'd learned that plain grass could be more comfortable and even softer than a bed; at least softer than the beds he was used to. He lifted his forearms from their resting place on top of his knees and let his hands fall between his raised legs, into his lap.

The sunlight flashed straight into his sight as it bounced off the clean tombstones that stood in clean lines, all around him.

After his body sizzled with a faint shiver, he tossed the longest end of his scarf over his shoulder and shrank into himself, his gaze still glued to the square, beautiful piece of stone that towered over him.

The perfect pearl rose that sat on top of the chiseled marble baffled him, if only a little. It looked delicate and immaculate, so he knew it had to be really fresh. Strange as it was, he didn't allow himself to dwell on the subject for too long.

Instead, he loosened the curious frown and smiled lightly.

"Seven years..."

It was amazing how so many places, experiences and people could be lumped together into just that.

"Seven years and I still think about you everyday..."

It had been unbearable at first, being all alone like that. So he ran away. He ran as far as he could from there until the sun and the stars themselves had shifted paths and only came back once he'd settled down a little.

He stayed gone until he was completely sure he wouldn't lose his mind at the first glimpse of a familiar face. "I know life's not really fair, sometimes. And most of the time it doesn't make much sense, either..."

Because they would remind him too much of something really precious, something he lost, forfeited for the sake of moving on...

"You can never have everything you need; that's just the way it is, isn't it?"

Himself.

Approaching footsteps reached his ears and made his back tense up out of instinct, and maybe out of fear too since he'd almost died last time someone came up to him from behind like that.

Still, the air around him held no traces of threat, and the steps were bold and soundly, like whoever was walking towards him knew of his bad experience and wanted to warn him about their presence as to not startle him.

Whatever the case, he dropped his stiff shoulders back and relaxed.

"I talked to your friend, Syrus...he told me I might find you here. I hope you don't mind."

Curious now, the brunet turned back to address the well-built cop with a small, casual grin. "No, its okay, man..." He accepted the hand the cappuccino-skinned officer offered him and used it to haul himself up.

The other didn't say anything at first. There was mild hesitation on his eyes, and some anxiety too, like he was debating whether to say what he came to say or not, and that alone was enough for him to know exactly what Hassleberry was about to tell him.

"He's out, Jaden...he got discharged in the morning."

The day that envelope was found, laying casually besides the dismembered, heartless corpse of a woman, with a craftily encrypted threatening letter addressed to Chazz inside it, he understood he would probably have to shoot someone — anyone who dared harm him — without any mercy or remorse because that was his job.

It shocked him to realize just how willing he was to hurt if it meant keeping the detective out of harm's way.

As expected from someone as famous and bold as Chazz Princeton, for every friend and ally that he found along the way, he gained two foes. Apparently somebody out there wanted to keep him from stumbling across something dirty while searching for the truth that would solve the case, and decided to give him a small warning, just to scare him enough and nudge him in the wrong direction.

And Chazz, being Chazz, only grew more curious about the whole matter and pressed further, uncaring and unafraid as always.

All they had to do was talk to a possible witness and check a lead. Just that and then they could leave that mysterious town behind, lost in the rear-view mirror for good.

But since when did all things go as planned? Instead of getting his first formal, really important job done neatly, he almost got both his charge and an innocent man killed...

-+Flashback+-

The cold crept in as soon as he opened the door, so he hopped in quickly and closed the door after himself to keep the car warm.

He shifted his grip on the paper cup he'd been carrying and lifted it over his shoulder, doing his best to pour some of the positivity he wasn't even feeling into the smile he shaped on his lips. "Here. You look like you could use some."

It was taken from his fingers after little hesitation, and the other finally answered, voice raspy yet confident. "...thanks."

Despite looking pretty shaken up, the guy didn't seem to forget his manners, and it sure came as a nice reminder of what normal human contact felt like. It was the pleasant side of people he rarely got to see in his line of work. The cop scooted to the side a little to be able to glance at the man sitting in the backseat, to take a good look at him.

Well, now, he definitely was all about the dames, but he really had to admit that dude was very, very pretty. Big eyes, long brown hair, clear, deep voice... "So...Jaden, right?" At the slow, shaky nod the other gave, he continued. "How you doing? You okay, man?"

How would he forget the name? It was branded deep inside his memory the moment he got there and found him kneeling there on the ground, holding the unconscious detective to his chest like a lifeline with so much care and desperation, and not letting him go for anything in the world, not even if a full-blown murdered was standing right behind him with a gun aimed at his head.

The way he'd gazed at Chazz, the sorrow in his eyes alone...it said more than enough.

The brunet frowned dazedly and shook his head, unblinking and simply unmoving. "No...I'm really not."

Well...at least he was honest.

And odd as that guy was, he just knew that man had nothing to do with what happened to Chazz. If anything, he'd been only trying to protect him from another bullet.

So, in spite of the fear and sadness he felt eating away at him from the inside, he pried him away from his friend and led him away after the ambulance he hadn't even requested arrived a minute later, to spare him of all the assumptions the local cops might wrongly make. They would probably arrest him first and ask questions later.

The guy had been very cooperative, still in shock as he was.

A pair of caramel eyes suddenly met his in the small, useful frame of the rear-view mirror, and the sole weight of them made him freeze on his seat. It was far from uncomfortable, though. "What about you?"

The sincere, straight-forward question startled him more than he would've expected it to, maybe because the honesty and kindness in the older man's tone reminded him way too much of a certain black haired detective.

Either way, he took some time to think the kind query through before answering, and when he did, he made sure to keep his words and tone just as honest as Jaden's. He raised both eyebrows and glanced down at his hands, truly surprised if his stuttering and red face were anything to go by.

"I-I'd never killed anyone before..." The huff he let out at that was everything but amused. "Hell, I don't think I ever used that thing outside the range before this..."

He had the best scores in the academy, and Chazz even told him once that he was probably the best marksman he'd ever met; then again, in the shooting range, shooting someone was only a distant possibility, an almost platonic situation no one really thought might actually happen.

And when that day finally comes, the guilt stings real deep, like a childhood mistake that's too noble to be shameful and still too horrible to be justified.

"...I'm sorry." That was the way the job was sometimes. Sometimes he witnessed miracles, some others…it was simply the opposite.

Jaden didn't say anything else after that. None of them could.

-+End of Flashback+-

Jaden Yuki...that guy sure was something.

If he'd been terrified out of his mind right then and there despite his training and the strong sense of superiority only carrying a gun could offer, then he couldn't even begin to imagine how Jaden felt.

But he still refused to give up on the detective. He'd still protected him with his life.

That bravery...it was inspiring.

"So..." The cop grinned lazily and threw a sideways glance at the brown eyed man besides him, riding shotgun. "Is that Syrus friend of yours really Zane Truesdale's little brother?" When the silent brunet tore his gaze away from the window to offer him a small nod, he raised both eyebrows and whistled in amazement. "Wow...well, that's interesting..."

The word interesting didn't quite cut it, in his opinion.

If there anyone in the world Chazz respected and even admired, it was definitely Zane. The man was two or three years older than Chazz, and he was just as famous and respected as the stubborn detective, being a big-time Judge, an award-winning author and dean of one of the top five law schools in the world. The youngest dean in history, at that.

Not to mention, the guy was, according to 98% of the women he'd ever met, drop-dead gorgeous and a full-blooded gentleman.

"He's the one that told me Chazz was here in the first place..." At this, the cop's ears perked up almost instinctively.

"Because Zane told him, right?"

"Yeah..." The look Jaden gave him was confused and uncertain, his frown clearly a request for further explanation. "How did you…?"

"The night before...you know, that happened, he and Chazz went out for dinner."

"Really? So what, they see each other on a regular basis or something?"

Bewildered beyond understanding, Jaden really had to wonder why Syrus would fail mention something like that. "Well...kind of. They met in London a few days ago, when Zane was assigned to one of his big cases. You probably heard about it. The serial killer dubbed by the English press as 'the tourist', wanted in 9 countries and charged with over 20 murders? Ring a bell?"

Regardless of all the many helpful clues the other gave him, the brunet refused to admit he even knew what he was talking about.

"Wow, you should start reading the newspapers, man, 'cause I'm telling you, it was huge! International press and everything..."

Of course he heard about it. Who hadn't? Chazz was more of a public figure than any politician or actor he'd ever known of.

"Now I can see why he was so interested in Zane...I mean, he literally got obsessed with him, right after he first heard the guy's name."

After learning his former classmate was the one leading the investigation, he made sure to read every article that came out about the case, keeping track of any advance the young detective might make.

"But it was actually Truesdale who came up to him after the trial to introduce himself. That's when they discovered the senseless obsession was mutual."

Choosing to ignore the odd insinuation in that comment, the older man smirked slightly and gazed out the window. "You don't say..."

Hassleberry remained oblivious to the effect of his words, somehow, his own tone sarcastic and amused. "Yeah, apparently, he was so 'impressed by his intelligence and his strong sense of justice…'" The cop shook his head and chuckled. "Man, I thought Chazz' head was gonna explode..."

"You really care about him, don't you?"

The sudden question caught the officer off guard at first, cutting his laughter short in a sec. Green, sharp eyes turned pensive as they traced the intermittent white line on the road, squinting lightly before coming back to rest on the older man. "Of course I do. He's my best friend."

The brunet couldn't fight the smile that tickled his insides at the thought. Sometimes it was kinda hard for him to believe just how stupidly lucky that cocky jerk was, without even realizing it. Some people searched for a friend their entire lives and could only find one or two, three at most. Oh, but not Chazz. He could put up all the walls in the world, the worst and most hostile loner attitude possible and he would still be a freaking friend-magnet, anywhere he went.

"He's very lucky to have you, Hass."

"That would be an understatement…"

Truth was, that cop right there had proved to be a better friend than any of them.

Unlike any of Chazz' old friends, including him, Hassleberry was the only one that stayed there, by his bedside night and day until the stubborn man woke up.

That would be, in fact, the very first time he and Chazz saw each other after the dreadful incident.

Cruel and detached as it might be, he just knew he wasn't ready to face him; hell, he wasn't even sure if he'd been ready back then. Going to the park to meet him had been just a huge, ill-advised decision he'd made out of blind yearning and excitement, because he was truly weak when it came to the one person he'd missed far much more than anyone should ever miss anything without going nuts.

Because it could take another seven years for an opportunity like that to come up again, for all he knew, and in the split second it'd taken him to choose, he decided he wasn't willing to wait that long just to see him one more time.

The car turned sharply to come into the parking lot of a beautiful, expensive looking hotel. The wheels stopped rolling right in front if the elegant, crystal main gates, so he took it as his cue to climb off the vehicle, closing the door behind himself.

He'd been so anxious and pensive to notice the engine kept rumbling even as he started to walk towards the entrance; on his third step, a loud, playful voice called out for him. "Well, I guess I'll see you later!"

The purposely cheerful words made him turn back around, all stiff and shocked. "What?"

The cop just grinned widely and waved him off. "Tell 'em I say hi!"

And then, faster than he possibly could react, the other hit the gas and sped off, picking up a fine sheet of dust and countless dirty looks on his trail.

A part of him wanted to believe the younger man was just messing with him, and it was because of that part that his feet became rooted to the floor, allowing him to merely watch the car set off, his resolve and confidence abandoning him with every meter the other gained in the opposite direction. Angry didn't even begun to describe his state.

But even if the guy's impressive nerve had annoyed him greatly, he still spun around and made his way to the lobby, anyway. Just when he thought he would have to ask the receptionist exactly in which room that stupid detective was hiding at, a firm hand grasped his shoulder from behind, its weight and hold distantly familiar.

Instantaneous and hot like a firework, his heart flew up to clog his already dry throat in a second.

Only it wasn't the jerk he'd been aching to see who stood behind him, but his great childhood friend, Syrus Truesdale, his pale gaze expectant and just so glad his chest clamped up in itself at the sight. Quite frankly, he had a hard time deciding which one was the overpowering sensation inside his head: disappointment or relief.

It was probably a tie.

The soft ding of the elevator brought him out of the strange, inopportune reverie, and he only offered the man that stepped out of the doors a flash glance before turning his attention back to his friend.

Something old, a dusty but precious memory sparkled inside his head, and he quickly snapped his now wide gaze back to the now approaching tall man, both his jaw and spirit dropping to the ground at the familiar, yet so very different face.

The fine, manly features, the sharp gray eyes, the intelligent expression, it was all like he remembered — the dark stubble and the long, slicked-back hair, on the other hand, were definitely new.

Bastion Misawa didn't say anything when he came to stand in front of him; he just glanced at Syrus with an almost knowing look and then opened his arms to take him into a kind, strong embrace. "It's alright, Jaden...we'll catch up later."

Confused like he hadn't felt in years, the brunet frowned at the mysterious words and made a move to pull away from the other, but his old friend held him fast and strong before he could, bringing his lips closer to his ear.

"Room 504." He whispered before stepping back to stand next to Syrus, who only smiled and patted his shoulder, his smile warm and sympathetic.

"Good luck, Jay."

And he could only stare stupidly at them, completely overthrown by their understanding gesture, too dazed and speechless to utter a single word after they begun to walk away from him, towards the main doors.

It really was a lot to take in — first Hassleberry and Sy, then Bastion and now that even the freaking stars had aligned perfectly, he was also supposed to see Chazz again? All alone?

Though, after further consideration, he decided that them leaving him on his own was probably for the best. That way, no one he knew would see him scramble into the first open elevator as quick as he could without tripping. At least he could keep his dignity.

The pair of uniformed, imposing sentinels flanking the door at the very end of the hallway, they were definitely the first thing he saw when he stepped out of the restricted cubicle, and intimidating as they were, he supposed it was a necessary measure.

After walking closer, however, he discovered something rather interesting. The metal numbers hanging between the guards read, 508. One peek over the shoulder brought him face to face with the room he'd been searching for.

The puzzled frown quickly got replaced by a small smirk. 'A decoy, huh? Wouldn't expect any less from you, Chazz...'

The fact that the door tagged as 504 slid open with ease under his palm only confirmed his theory. With utmost stealth, he slipped inside and closed the door behind himself, ignoring the bemused look the guards threw in his direction.

He didn't even bother flipping the switch on, in spite of the blind state it would leave him in. It would probably annoy the night creature that he knew was hiding in there, waiting for him in the shadows. A large, close-blinded window split the opposite wall in half, offering the room a weak gray shade that helped him see where he was going, at least until his eyes fully adapted to the dark.

A few steps further and he reached a small yet luxurious living room. From what he could make out through the darkness, there was a long sofa stretched in front of him, facing away from him, with a short coffee table sitting before it.

Suddenly, the air in the room plunged into an even deeper silence, like the short-lived standstill before the unexpected attack — and then he heard it, the faint rustle coming behind him.

Unfortunately for him, he sensed the movement one second too late...

He spun around on his heels only to meet the lunge directly, his back hitting the carpeted floor with a soft, impeccable thud. It seemed the other's wounded state hadn't hindered at all his uncanny ability to pounce like a tiger.

A pair of surprisingly warm hands fell over his shoulders, pinning his upper body down while a comfortable, yet imposing weight kept his legs flat against the beige carpet.

He honestly couldn't help the sharp intake of air that escaped him at the feathery touch of a steady breathing across his neck, or the shudder that followed suit. As much as he tried to keep his reactions in check, being temporarily blind had only heightened the rest of his senses and no amount of restraint seemed to be enough to regain full control of his body.

When the tip of a cold nose brushed the oversensitive skin of his collarbone, he clamped his mouth shut and turned his face away from the invisible eyes that he knew were watching his every move closely.

"Hm..." The soft, gruff voice that rumbled near his ear infused him with a deep sense of relief, a kind of peace he surely hadn't felt in years, so strong he almost blacked out right there and then in his serenity. "...definitely the best room service I've ever had."

The urge to laugh at that mischievous comment proved to be stronger than his already crumbling resolve to keep his distance, but he quickly came up with a clever way to work with it. "You haven't changed a thing, have you? Still as conceited as always..."

Focused as he tried to be, his willpower was no match for the distraction the satisfied purr that vibrated against his chest proved to be. "Maybe..."

A nice amount of pressure gathered on his lower abdomen when the detective suddenly shifted atop him, and he had to shut his eyes and ground his teeth to keep from responding any way other than mentally. Since he had no way of knowing if he was being deliberately teased or not, he chose to simply relax and let the moment follow its natural course.

"You, on the other hand..."

The unexpected light that poured into his sensitive eyes all of a sudden was quick to banish any dirty thoughts from his mind, and like a kid who was too impatient to wait for his cocoa to cool down, he ignored the painful feeling that jabbed at his eyes and opened them at once.

A swift, painful glance heavenwards, however, rewarded him with the most amazing sight he'd ever laid eyes on.

The black-haired man leaning over him was truly beautiful, to say the least. The peculiar, midnight spikes he used to secretly sniff and nuzzle were longer than he remembered, and there was a new unruly look about them that gave Chazz more allure than the faint stubble that now framed his sharp jaw.

And his gaze...

Half-lidded and amused as it was, it made him appear so surreal...completely different and still, just the way he remembered him.

But then it paled down, and as the pleased, captivating look faded away, so did the happy feeling inside the brunet's chest.

The delight disappeared from those silver eyes in a moment, gone to be replaced by a sadness so deep and infectious he found himself reciprocating it almost immediately.

He was so sad, in fact, that his mind and senses hardly reacted when the detective dropped a forearm on the carpet, above his head so that his fingers could get lost in his brown locks, and lowered his upper body closer to his, still not quite touching him. The other arm came down to rest besides his shoulders, palm down for a better leverage.

The hypnotizing gaze lingered on him for a long while before that deep voice cut through the silence, striking his face in a warm caress that did nothing to distract him from the powerful eye-contact. "...is it true, Jaden? What they told me?"

His tone was soft, too soft, and there was a pitiful quality about it that filled in the blanks like the clandestine whisper of missing answers in a vital test. For some reason, he knew exactly what Chazz meant by that. Nevertheless, the newfound pain the discovery brought alone exiled every word he knew from his mind.

With a simple nod, he answered. The ebony haired man reflected on all of the deep implications that unfurled behind that response, and then dipped down to press his lips against his forehead. "I'm so sorry..."

And he was.

He was able to tell by his tone alone just how heartbroken and remorseful he truly was. His hand roamed all the way up the strong arm that confined him to finally end up going astray amongst those rebellious, black tresses.

"Yeah...me too."

At the unexpected caress, the detective pulled away from him a little to look at him, his stare searching and so distraught it caused him to just act, not think about anything twice. Before the older man could say something back, he threw one other arm around those broad shoulders and brought him back down to drink up any superfluous words with his mouth.

It sure surprised the hell out of guy, if the gasp and stiffness his body abruptly irradiated were anything to go by.

The speed with which the other broke away and rose to his feet all in one swift move, it didn't match his supposedly wounded state in the least.

Startled as he was, he couldn't help but to notice how young Chazz looked when he stared at him like that. So utterly lost and helpless.

Once he was satisfied with the distance he put between them, the detective leaned back against the farthest wall and let out a long, tired breath. When he cautiously turned to sit on his knees, an elegant hand was held out to stop him in a vague, distracted gesture he felt compelled to obey.

However, whatever explanation the taller man might offer him never got the chance to leave his gaping lips. A powerful riff sliced through thick tension and silence all of a sudden, frightening the black haired man more than it surprised him.

The uncertain, shaky words he threw at him before leaving him there only reached his ears in the form of a whisper, like the cold, distorted language he only got to hear in his dreams.

"Something's probably up with the case. I have to go now."

Chazz most likely thought he wouldn't notice the desperation hidden in the unsteady movements he made across the room to gather the things he needed in order to leave. Just fumbling with the doorknob proved to be an epic battle for his trembling hands.

Beneath the safety of escape the frame of the door offered him, the youngest Princeton turned back to cast him a glance that was so blank and detached he could literally feel his spirit tumble to the floor, frozen and lifeless.

"I...I'll call you later, Jaden."

And with that soft murmur the door was suddenly closed, leaving him inside, alone against his dark thoughts and fears.

He honestly couldn't bring himself to be surprised at Chazz's helpless reaction.

If anything, it confirmed the rising gut feeling he'd been carrying for years now, the same bad omen that had become his biggest fear overnight without him even realizing it.

'Chazz and I were already extremely different when we gave this a shot..."

He wasn't the exact same person he'd been all those years ago; he knew that. They had all changed somehow.

But him...judging by Syrus' reaction and his very own feelings about his new dark nature, his change was the most evident of them all.

What if we're too different to even try now?

Desperation and loneliness he'd been trained to overcome...it was the guilt and the sadness that killed him.

Completely uncaring about the two dead silent yet observant guards that dashed into the elevator after him, he staggered back until his shoulders hit the wine-red, cold wall. He brought a hand up to cover the upper half of his face and gritted his teeth hard, but he still was unable to smother the miserable roar that rose within his chest.

It was gone.

The light, the innocence he'd fought to protect — from anything bad or anyone, from the very evil in the world and even his own demons — it wasn't there anymore.

Jaden was...just different. Everything about him was. His tone, his face; hell, even his scent was different. And his eyes...the memory of them alone was more than enough to make him double over and dry heave heavily.

The idiotic, good natured and simple moron he loved, the slacker, he...didn't exist anymore.

The look permanently plastered on his beautiful face was like a refined, older version of the serious expression Jaden used to give him whenever he was angry or worried, and instead of a faint blush and a wide stare, he found a pair of dark, heavy-lidded eyes peering up at him a desperate hand that pulled him right back down, into a pond of heat and hunger so strong it'd almost drowned him.

(1 month later)

He waited patiently for his floor number and the automatic door to match, and when it finally did with a gentle ding, he calmly stepped out, fully intent on having a nice shower before dropping by the coffee house to check on Gabriel.

A quick but rather perceptible glint of black caught his attention from the farthest end of the hallway, three or four doors after his own, and it instantly shot his heart so far up his chest he could almost taste it.

Frowning slightly, he decided to listen to his gut and performed a harmless little test.

He opened the door to his room and then closed it again, making sure to create a clear, firm slam. And waited.

When he saw Chazz Princeton slowly appear from the sharp angle of the corner, wary and jerky like an insomniac mouse, he could feel the already fragile yet imaginary twig inside his head snap right in half.

And maybe if he hadn't been so surprised, he might've succeeded in desperate attempt to flee.

But he didn't, since a pair of very strong, very pissed hands grabbed him by the shoulders only to spin him and hurl him into the wall opposite from his door, hard enough to send him into a powerful daze.

The precision and utter calm with which Jaden fastened Chazz' hands together using his own black scarf after pinning him to the wall with his whole body, it was just as intimidating as it was exciting. So much so, the older man highly doubted anyone who happened to walk in on them would be stupid enough to try and help him.

And he was really thankful for that because he was actually enjoying the manhandling.

Not one to go down without a proper fight, however, he glanced back at the silently seething brunet over his shoulder and smirked mischievously. "Didn't know you liked to play rough, slacker..."

His taunts were skillfully ignored. Once he was done tying the long piece of wool around his wrists, the brunet pulled him by the fat black knot resting over his lower back and tossed him into his room.

The dark-eyed man landed on his stomach over the fair carpet, grunting a bit at the small jolt of pain the hard impact ripped from his recent wound. Through the soreness and the difficulty of trying to sit up while tied-up, he managed a small smirk. "You know...I'm not bondage-kinky kinda guy, but for you I guess I could make an excep-"

"Stop."

A word that small and harmless shouldn't have sounded so strong, especially not when the tone that delivered it was merely a breathless, tired whisper. But it did, and the indigo aura around Jaden was without a doubt the finishing blow for him. It rendered him speechless.

Those butterscotch gemstones drilled straight into his soul, deep enough to sense his doubts and stumble across the very core of his greatest fears. He was hypnotized, just not in the good way. "Stop talking, stop running away, just...stop."

"I wasn't running. I was planning on coming back later." The response he got for that was certainly not the one he'd expected.

"Oh yeah? Seven years later?" It had been a cheap, cheap shot; he knew that all too well and still refused to pretend he was moved or even cared in the least about the distraught glare that sharp comment earned him.

Still, he doubted anything he said or did would ever come close in cheapness to the half-assed excuses that detective right there had used on him.

Keeping his voice and expression free from emotion was something he was not used to. Nevertheless, he was quite good with that kind of acts, and as he crouched down in front of Chazz in search for any signs of deception, he tried to convince himself he was good at keeping his much-needed distance, too.

"What are you doing here?"

The older man returned the stare with a elegant type of defiance only he could accomplish, and finally answered in a soft, tight-lipped tone. "I came here to apologize."

For some reason, instead of relieving him of his sadness or fueling his old resentment like the thought it would, that answer only slammed the door in the face of his rebellious emotions, the ones that spoke of forgiveness and love.

A terrible numbness was all that remained.

He fixed the other with a pensive look before nodding gently. "Alright. Apology accepted. You can go now." At the confused, wide stare that studied him, he rose to his feet and swiftly opened the door. When the detective didn't even blink, he held out an arm towards the door and insisted. "It's okay, I won't be mad at you."

Chazz didn't say anything for a long time, just sat there with a wistful, reflective frown marring his lovely features. After a small moment of hesitation in which he casted a brief glance at the carpet, he eventually asked the million-dollar question. "You really hate me that much?"

But regardless of the many times he had asked himself that, Jaden was left at a complete loss.

From his spot on the floor, Chazz was able to watch first-hand as the light and the consciousness vanished from eyes in a second. The door closed slowly under the guidance of a limp hand, the other's back coming down hard to lean heavily on it.

He'd been so absorbed in the story those brown eyes told him that he forgot all about the story he'd demanded to hear, and when Jaden's hoarse voice reached his ears, he returned to his body with a slight flinch.

"You...you were dying, right there, right in front of me..." Once out of the strong daze, he realized the hypnotizing, chocolate orbs were looking right through him, unfocused and misty. "And all I could think while I waited was how fitting the whole thing was..."

Curious enough, he ventured a question. "Fitting?"

When the silence he offered in exchange for an explanation stretched out for a few seconds, he instantly blamed himself for interrupting the subconscious monologue.

Just when he thought he would never know the end of that idea, his former classmate nodded distractedly and carried on.

"I hated your guts for years. I really did." He put some focus into his stare and fixed him with a brief, serious look. "I hated you for acting like a coward and for making promises you wouldn't even remember..."

That last part almost sent the detective over the edge, and he truly had to muster up all of his will just to keep himself from jumping at the false accusation.

Because he did remember. He was a man of his word, after all, and rejection or not, all of his instincts told him to honor that promise in spite of his own pain.

"-so much it changed everything. The world was different, and I just...stopped caring about people. I didn't care about making friends or helping people out, not anymore."

But he couldn't. He had to draw a line, somewhere. At least for the sake of his sanity.

The stale, almost bitter laughter Jaden let out after that only made his head spin faster. "I guess a part of me thought that losing you would be my punishment for hating you like that."

How could the biggest sacrifice end up being the cruelest betrayal? The worst betrayal ever?

He loved Jaden so much it made life simple...effortless. It amplified his biggest fears, but it also straightened his will and multiplied his courage. It gave him something much more valuable than safety. It gave him a reason.

He loved the slacker so much the hardest choice...

"...became the easiest thing." Awareness bled back into his stray stare and he pinned it right on the other, his lips twitching upwards to form a small, tired smile. "Leaving you wasn't easy for me, you know? It almost killed me."

The unnaturally sad expression he was wearing morphed into one he was familiar with.

Confidence. "...but I never regretted it." At the baffled, peeved frown he was awarded with, he released a chuckle and shook his head. "I'm definitely not the praying type and still I prayed for you two to be happy, everyday."

If anything, his heartfelt, embarrassing confession only seemed to annoy Jaden even more, making him snort in anger from where he stood. With a bitter grin and a faint scowl that spelled resent from every angle, the brunet turned back to him. "Come on, you're supposed to be good with these things, detective."

The tone alone made Chazz flinch and sink further into himself, humiliated by the righteous sentence that continued to flow despite his silence.

"If I loved Jesse so much, then why did I give you the only keepsake I had of my father? You really think I'm that impulsive?"

Truth be told, he'd asked himself the very same thing countless times. That and many other questions that seemed so obvious now.

He'd been a sad fool. That was the only thing he could say in his defense.

He chased Jaden's dark gaze across the room until, hurt and unwilling, it finally found his. Knowing he was the only reason for all the sadness and solace in those right butterscotch eyes hurled his spirit into a lake of guilt; however, the sight also gave him hope.

If he could have him back — him and everything else he stood for — he would pour out all of his energy and time just to make up for the consequences of the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Fast and right like a requested painful truth, the question hanging inside their heads formed on his lips.

"What about now?" Something about the way the slacker's features twitched at the words told him the long wait hadn't really prepared him to hear them, and taking advantage of the unusual momentum, he carried on. "Did that change over the years, like everything else did?"

Neither of them wanted the unreal promise of eternal happiness.

They just wanted a chance. "Like you and I did?" Still, a deep, static-charged silence was his only answer. Thus, he tried again. "You love me?"

Infuriated all of a sudden, Jaden let out a low growl and walked towards the window, unconsciously turning his back on the other.

How could Chazz do that to him all over again? It made it really hard for him not to think he was a cruel and selfish son of a bitch.

After a long, clearly difficult struggle just to find his stance, he could only whisper, "That never seemed to matter before, Chazz..."

The unexpected weight that pressed against each of his sides startled him at first, but their familiar warmth soothed him and chased away his every fear and doubt. He closed his eyes. For the first time in years, he felt...right. The hands spun him around and into the heat and turmoil of a kiss. In spite of the madness, though, he couldn't help but to wonder how the youngest Princeton could still taste like vanilla and mint even after so many years.

The supernatural effect was so addictive and dizzying it took all of his willpower just to keep himself from latching onto him with his teeth like a leech when the other pulled away. And to make things worse, he lingered inside the few precious inches of his very personal space only to stare at him, fully aware of what those meaningful looks could do to him. So he glanced down, and didn't even think about making eye-contact. He simply couldn't take that chance.

Because he knew that just one peek into those silver rings would do him in. "It always did." A pair of long fingers nudged his chin upwards with ease, immediately sealing his fate as their eyes clashed. "Now answer the question, please."

A single word slipped under his radar in his state of stupor in a tone that was breathless yet fervent, shaking but confident, like it was a deadly forbidden secret that would cost him everything he held dear. "Yes."

Chazz, on the other hand, was long lost inside the other's gaze, not even waiting for an answer.

Suddenly...it hit him.

Cheery or serious, naive or aware, even dead or alive...this guy would still be his good old moron, the very same dork who spilled hot cocoa on his hair twice and called it an accident — the one that gave him a second chance more times than he could count and who'd had no problem waiting for him to come around to his own feelings and desires.

And he would always be that, whether he liked it or not because they were stuck together; had been that way ever since they stumbled across each other, and like the stars and the very patterns of time, that simple fact was not about to change anytime soon.

He would give his life up for him, over and over again no matter what; he knew that for certain because he'd already done just that and had absolutely no regrets about it. He was bound to him, he loved this guy, dammit!

They were shackled to each other, and it'd been a conscious choice as much as it'd been an entirely involuntary turn of events.

Without thinking twice, or even once about it, he threaded his fingers into the soft locks on the other's nape...and descended. Desperation made the kisses short and erratic, and it clung to their lips like tears would, turning the sweet taste bittersweet.

Jaden could only close his eyes and receive everything the scorching body pressed against his was offering. And even if sharing a zealous kiss the middle of a four-star hotel room wasn't the most romantic scenario he could think of, he would happily reside in that position for as long as his body lasted if he could.

Everything about the electrifying kiss was different than he remembered, except perhaps for Chazz' characteristic, intoxicating scent. The stubble had a lot to do with that, and after a few more tastes, he decided he was rather fond of the new twist.

Those soft, mint-flavored lips abandoned his to pursue the defined line of his jaw, down inch by inch until it reached his neck, the dizzying sensation shutting off more than half of his brain cells.

In an almost scenic dance, they closed in on the bed, two pairs of feet following after each other without colliding. Clothes were ripped off urgently, heatedly, shedding fast like the small pieces of their self-control and awareness. First their shoes and socks, then his sweater and Chazz' short-coat.

They broke apart as soon as they realized they were falling, one of the detective's cheeks coming down to land over his heaving chest. Shortly after they were back to the kissing, a bit calmer now that the initial impatience had been shattered. Bliss flooded his already jagged line of thought as he stabbed his fingers into the midnight spikes, drowning in the deliciously fresh, cold sensation of recently washed hair when the tips reached Chazz' scalp.

Warm fingers slid under the hem of his dark green shirt and dragged it up slowly, apparently reveling in the sensation of his every curve and muscle until he pulled it over his head and threw it away, exposing his torso to a incredulous coal gaze.

"Can't call you a slacker now, can I?" Soft yet firm planes stretched across the brunet's abdomen despite his lean figure, accentuating the shallow angles that defined his hips, and the perfection of it all was more than enough to make his mouth water; it was so appealing it made him wonder just why he didn't walk around shirtless all day long.

However, the bareness also exposed something else...

Under the clear light that poured in through the many windows, the gleam of the silver ring he hadn't seen in years sought all of his attention. It was linked to the other's nicely chiseled neck with a thin, brown leather string which, he had to admit, looked way better than the simple chain it used to have. It matched the beautiful golden chest displayed before him like it had been made just for that purpose. Tackled by a deep remembrance, he graced his fingertips over the now warm pendant and allowed the memories to reap whatever was left of his conscience.

Jaden simply lay there, watching him with the most mind-blowing, half-closed stare he could possibly have, and he could tell by the sparkle that swirled behind the lust in his eyes that he was lost in memories, too. The younger man could barely keep himself from bursting into flames under the hot hands that demanded his attention almost immediately by seizing one of his sides and tugging at the zipper his jeans, clearly insinuating he wanted them off; an expensive black shirt soon joined them on the a small pile besides the bed.

His eyes could only examine the bullet wound for about a second before their chests were flat against each other. Chazz slid on his stomach to climb up to a higher position on the body beneath his, aided by their salty perspiration until his hips were resting cozily between strong thighs. He pressed his nose against the traveler's neck...and ground hips down, hard and slow.

The stimulation turned his mind and nerves into sizzling scraps, making him groan and squirm inside his own skin. Seemingly pleased by his bold reaction, the detective let out a low growl and set a pace after that. Sighs, groans and gasps all merged into the same delirious symphony that knew no time or bounds and that left the rest of their senses starving for more scents and tastes.

A few stray nips and murmurs later, their lips found each other again.

It took them little less than a minute to notice the urge for more skin-to-skin contact, and about two seconds to succumb to it. The odd yet adorable 'wait here' gesture the other made thrilled him for some reason, but he still didn't make anything out of it.

When Chazz quickly walked into the bathroom only to stumble right back out a moment later, with a small bottle of complimentary moisturizing lotion clutched in one hand, his brain had no problem putting two and two together.

Something was definitely going to happen that evening.

The detective tossed the blue bottle onto the white sheets to unbuckle his belt and yank off his black pants, elegant ivory hands finding no trouble as they went. His eyes, however, remained glued to Jaden the entire time.

In the state of complete bareness the other was, the black haired male in front of him was absolutely beautiful, all of him. With zero hesitation in his gray gaze, he crawled into the bed and back to his former position. He returned the warm grin Jaden offered in his own quirky, crooked way; they didn't even need to start all over again.

Chazz, being the chivalrous, thorough jerk that he was, showed him nothing but patience and gentleness as he got him ready, and while the new experience felt beyond weird, he also found it kinda pleasurable. Still, nothing he did would've prepared him for the raw, breath-taking sensation of being full to the brim, despite the slow, mild pace. The youngest Princeton put a lot of effort into getting him to relax again by kissing his lips softly and lapping at his neck.

He allowed him a few minutes to get used to it before trusting back inside Jaden, who threw his head back into the sheets and arched into him with a broken moan.

The pair of gems that stared dazedly up at him as they moved as one had darkened from butterscotch to mature cognac, and those swollen, ruby-red lips remained parted to drop his name into his ear more often than not. Hands everywhere, senses insane and overwhelmed, loud noises and so much heat...he felt like he was drowning inside a pool of pure fire in the middle of a desert.

Needless to say, it was a very, very long night full of reconciliation and devotion.

None of them were surprised in the slightest when they suddenly decided to live together and moved in to the small house Chazz had bought for them before graduation. In fact, most of them even wondered what had taken them so long to reach that decision.

No more running or hiding — no more traveling around the world in hopes of running into each other again.

It gave him the feeling that everything in the world was all right again, now that those two were together again. Because their need for one another was deeper than the need for water or oxygen, despite the obvious, insistent differences between them.

Now that he actually thought about it, everything was different when it came to them. Instead of following the old cliché that said soul mates brought out the best parts of one another, Chazz and Jaden's relationship seemed to work in a different, very unique way.

While the fearless hero became the old cynical joker, with a newfound motivation and an unusual yet accepted definition of kindness, the bored, good-hearted traveler who'd lived and seen it all retrieved a part of the zealous passion he once had for life.

And, God help him, it really worked.

Somehow, they made it work.

It took him a while to comprehend that even if the worst part of someone was their ugliest side, it was also the real thing, the part that defined them entirely. Because no one could be all smiles, all the time, through their whole lives — not even Jaden Yuki.

At first he'd been too sad for words at his somber attitude, and so had been Chazz. Even if the guy could be a master at staying calm and straight-faced no matter what, he knew him well enough to see how devastated he'd been about it.

But then he got it. And so did his black haired friend.

It was the natural course of things.

Like everyone, Jaden too had to grow up one day and move on with his life the way it'd turned out to be. Same went for Chazz; proud and cocky as he was when they met, of course he was bound to learn sooner or later that life was actually easier and funnier if he was nice to people on a daily basis.

So they changed, and what could be more natural and human than that?

Nothing would ever be easy for them; that was just the way things were. They knew that all too well the moment they realized going their separate ways again would be a terrible mistake and took one another for exactly what they were, with their flaws and doubts.

The only thing that sort of bothered him was all the time they lost, and how many things they went through just to understand that themselves. They had plenty of time to make up for that, though, so he wouldn't worry.

In his old Jay's words:

"Relax, buddy...we have all the time in the world."

Fin.