Woo! Third story this week! I'm neglecting by books and schoolwork with this but fuck it! WOO! Sorry. More Jew. For your Jewey pleasure. Ha, that sounds like chewey. Chew. CHOOCHOOO. Okay, I'm so sorry….but JEWJEWJEW. JEW. JESJNKBFIBVsKBkadfbef….Yeah. Again, I apologize. Ha. ~Don

"Look," Will muttered darkly, his eyes fierce for a reason James couldn't understand. "This can't work, okay? This just can't." Will walked up to him, gripping his soft, delicate shoulders.

"Why not? You said it yourself, Will. You felt it too." At this the boy flinched visibly, turning, letting go of Jem.

"Jem, don't you see? We don't have enough time. We don't…we can't…if anyone finds out-"

"Sophie knows well enough," Jem interrupted. Will froze, eyes still dark and terrifying. He got like this when he was upset; terrifying.

"I certainly hope not." Jem shrugged, mussing with his silvery hair. He was close to crying, but a good shadowhunter never does that; neither does a man.

"You can hope all you like. But hope is trivial. If you intend to disengage me from your life that is all well and fine, but seeing as we were, 'together' last night, I think I have a right to know why." Will frowned sadly, and his eyes, Jem noted, were less dark. And through them all you could see was pain.

"You're intelligent. You know that is not why I'm doing this." Jem shrugged the delicate shoulders of his, not meeting his parabatai's eyes.

"You'd be correct on both counts." But William couldn't manage a smile. I reached out, his arms gentle now, and pulled Jem into his arms. And Jem, always so happy in this boy's arms, felt complete when his bare chest touched Will's.

"I know that I've hurt you. I know I still do. But Jem, you have to understand," Will pled, still clinging to Jem, "We don't have time for this. You know we'd have to run away. We know you're dying. And you need to know that if given all the time in the world, I'd pick you. But…"

"But what?" Jem's voice shook, and he cursed the retched thing. Will pulled him closer.

"But there's no time. No time at all." Jem sighed sadly, pushed Will away.

"Do you not even care?" he nearly shouted, perhaps irrationally angry, but angry all the same. Will's black hair had fallen in his eyes, and he pushed it back. "Do you realize what happened last evening? And now you just want to return to the bar before morning training as if nothing ever happened? Has all the alcohol finally caught up to you, Will?" William winced.

"No," he murmured, dejected. "It is certainly not the alcohol." Jem whimpered, feeling utterly exposed where he was not safe. Last evening, during the night he'd felt ever so safe, wrapped in Will's arms, in his touch. But it was all a lie, it seemed.

"Then it is me," he decided softly; it was not a question. "Then it is me you no longer want." Will bit his lip, concerned about the severity of the wounds he'd just left in Jem's heart. But he was closed off now. Will would not be allowed to touch his heart again. "Go, please," the sick boy whispered. "Leave me be. Let me get dressed." Will frowned.

"Jem, it isn't like I haven't seen you before-"

"Don't," Jem cut him off softly. "Just go." So Will nodded and slipped out sadly, feeling the own wounds in his heart even more deep than the cuts he'd carved into Jem's. He opened the door and glanced back just once, observing that his partner was still in bed naked, the sheets covering his torso and downward.

"I understand, I mean it," he began quietly. "Why would you want me to stay?" And then the boy left just like that. Jem let his tears fall from his eyes when the door clicked shut.

"Because I love you," he whispered, though it fell only to his ears.

Once the irrational tears stopped, Jem climbed out of his bed and slipped into some clothes. He was pulling on a shirt when there was a knock on the door, and being his jumpy self, Jem hesitated.

"Who?" was all he murmured.

"Sophie, Mr. Carstairs. I've got fresh-"

"Come in," he interrupted her, sighing, running a hand through his sparse hair. Sophie bustled in, making herself busy as she always did. She had no nonsense, just work to be done and she did it well. Jem trusted her well enough.

"Is it the pain that causes your tears, Mr. Carstairs?" she asked softly, and he cursed in his head for forgetting that tears left salt stains on the blankets. He shrugged, refusing to look at her.

"It is."

"From Mr. Herondale, I wonder," she mused, without her words really being a question. It was one that Jem refused to answer. Instead he left the room, hoping something to eat might fill the emptiness inside him. The emptiness that was filled by William and William alone. However if Will seemed content to drink through the void that Jem almost hoped he'd left in the other's heart, mirroring his own, then he would be allowed to do so. But the thought was still unsettling.

Downstairs, even with the smell of fresh breakfast wafting through the air, Jem couldn't bring himself to be hungry. He grabbed a roll, not speaking to anyone, and walked out briskly, into the morning that had once been so welcoming. But the air was lonely and painful now. He heard someone open the door behind him, but he didn't turn.

"Jem," Henry inquired, going closer. "Where in the name of the Angel is Will?" Jem just shrugged.

"At the bar, morning drink." Henry must have nodded, because the only reply was the door shutting. Sure enough, moments later Will came stumbling down the street. He wasn't completely drunk; hardly. He was just a bit off, something Jem could tell better than anyone.

"Everyone is up, I assume," was the first thing he said when he reached Jem. And Jem, who both hated and loved nothing but Will in that very moment, slapped him across the face, hard. Will cried out and stumbled back a step, holding his cheek.

"What was that for?" he snapped, shocked, a touch of red already forming in his cheek.

"For leaving me alone this morning," Jem decided, and turned, walking back into the institute, smiling. Will shouted something profane, but Jem ignored it. Will barged in after him, taking him by the arm.

"Jem, we're going to talk about this. I know you think I don't care about your feelings, but to be fretfully honest I believe they are the only ones that actually matter to me, save my own problems." Jem turned, still smiling, but it dropped when he realized how red Will's face was. He reached out and stroked the cheek with the back of his pale, weak fingers.

"I believe it," he replied.

"Good," Will said quietly. Jem made a sound that resembled a squeak when Will pulled him in and kissed him. Responding, Jem pulled will closer, tangling his fingers in Will's hair, feeling the heat that radiated between them.

"What," Jem gasped as he pulled away, "was that for?" William just smiled gently, his eyes full of something strange.

"That was because I love you."

These are so freaking short! Sorry about that. If you want I was thinking about another chapter…maybe. Anyway, review? Good stuff! Everything belongs to Cassie except this story. Ya know... :D