Because I basically accused Blake and Kurt of fucking behind my back. Jean-Paul has had, in some ways, years to grow. The fight with Blake and Kurt seems both impossibly long ago and only moments ago as well.
I knew I had to get my shit together, because I kept freaking out on you guys.
So you walked away from us, and locked yourself up in your apartment? And now you're saying you went home? Wes lets out a gasp that means to be a laugh, but sounds like the first inklings of a sob. He catches his breath back in his throat and shakes his head.
What if you hadn't come back? That would have been the last time... just a note. Just some note, and me not having any idea what I did wrong. He feels moisture clouding his eyes and wills it away, blinking hard.
Jean-Paul hugs Wes tightly, one hands moving to stroke his hair. He stays that way for a while, then pulls back and very gently runs his thumbs under Wes' eyes.
You did nothing wrong. Nothing. And believe me, I've thought about that, and I felt terrible. I understand, Wes. I feel in love with a guy here who just vanished one day.
I can't apologise enough. All I can say is that I still love you as much as the last time I saw you. Maybe more.
He'd like to think he's done with fear. It would be nice to say that a long time ago, someone shoved a gun in his face enough times to make him stop flinching. In a lot of ways, it's true. Wes has learned to run towards danger rather than from it. He's compartmentalized pain until it's hardly a motivator to keep him from anything anymore. Fear of loss only works when you have something to lose, and the five years spent before coming to this place have proved there's very little waiting for him anywhere else. Certainly nothing he wants.
Maybe that's why his mind is so determined to tell him that this is all too good to be true. Wes knows he doesn't deserve it. He can't even call it borrowed -- it feels stolen. Too precarious in his hands and too dangerous to hand over. Since Grady proposed, he's lived with the sick fear that the universe will never give him what he truly wants. His partner's death, Jean-Paul's disappearance... Any other month they'd be an ordinary part of life in Deerington. Now he has to insist his mind not to think of them as the beginning of the end.
Jean-Paul shrugs. He doesn't know. I just woke up again, all covered in this black dusty shit. The calendar said only three days had passed.
He takes Wes' one hand and presses it to his chest, letting the big man feel his heartbeat. He sits that way for a minute, then lifts his hands again. It's amazing how everything flows back so easily, all the knowledge and memory. It's almost as if he hadn't gone anywhere at all.
I've missed you in my heart so very much. You were there somehow, even when I didn't remember.
You didn't remember me. It shouldn't be a surprise, since it's far from the first time he's been faced with this knowledge. By now enough people who Wes trusts have told him what it's like to go back and forth. But somehow he's still let himself hope that there might be a way to remember it all. If he can just find some way to hold on tightly enough. Jean-Paul swore he'd never leave this place, but they don't get to choose. He lets that make him scared and reaches to cup the man's jaw, then grip him by the strands of his hair.
How long were you there? You remember everything that happened to you while you were gone?
My heart did. It's frustrating to see that hurt and fear, because although it's completely warranted and understandable, Jean-Paul is uniquely suited to know that what he says is nonetheless true.
Years. He runs his hands through Wes' hair, over and over, before pulling them back. I've had a lot happen. Gained people, lost people. The world is different. I remember it, yes. It's so very strange.
Years? Wes feels like he's been punched in the chest. He forces the air out of his lungs, willing it not to become another sob. It's not as though he's doing a good job of hiding his emotional state as it is, but it's a lot to process. He can say it's felt like years for him too, but the hyperbole pales in comparison to the real thing. Thoughts pass through his mind almost faster than he can process them and he rubs at his eyes.
Did you? he shakes his head slowly. Do you still want to be here? Or do you want to be back home? Years, Jean-Paul?
I don't walk away when I think I'm losing something important. I try to hold on tighter. When Wes thinks about where it's gotten him, he can't say that his own method is any better. He can't begin t recall the number of times he's chased after Grady, or the ways in which he's sure he's made things worse by being too demanding of a partner who wanted his space.
I'm just worried. Maybe I'm being selfish. He gestures at the strewn reception supplies he hasn't even begun to organize into any semblance of order. This is a stolen life, and I don't deserve it. The closer I come to having what I want, the more I think something's going to stop me from getting it.
I want to talk. I want to keep talking to you. It worries me, maybe we don't talk enough. Everyone seemed to know what was going on except me. It seems like it's easier with you and everyone else. I'm worried I make it too hard.
Jean-Paul looks at Wes sharply, brows drawing together. It is NOT stolen, he tells him. And nobody deserves anything. We take what we can in life, and you two get to have this. Don't piss on it by making it seem like you two just held up a convenience store for wedding rings.
And god help anyone who tries to stop you two, because I WILL cut a bitch.
He sighs and softens. You don't make it hard. You may feel that way only because you don't have the same baseline weirdness Logan and Kurt and I do. I mean... if I tell Kurt I was trapped in an alternate earth where they scrubbed all my memories and made me into a cop who enforced breeding rules he'd just shrug and ask if I wanted more coffee. Not entirely true - Kurt would at least have a 'mein gott' or two to add.
But I love talking to you. I find it easier to talk to you about certain feelings than I do with others, because I know you understand. He kisses Wes' cheek tenderly.
I can help with the wedding stuff if you want. I know how.
I thought you were a Catholic? The corners of Wes's mouth twitch in a hint of a smile, but it's too ironic to seem happy. Shouldn't you believe that people who do good, get good things? What if it's worse than me just getting the punishment I deserve? Grady dies, I almost lose you... He shakes his head, and grips Jean-Paul's hips. It's not the first time Wes has wondered after as much. He doesn't know why he was the only one to survive back home. But it's a curse of its very own to watch everything taken away from you.
It's not just Logan and Kurt. I know you and Grady started out rough, but now you have something. I watch, and it just seems easier for everyone else. Wes shrugs and drops his gaze to Jean-Paul's hands. Taking one, he strokes the man's palm and plays idly with his fingers.
I'm glad you're back. And I need all the help I can get.
Former Catholic. Important difference. When Wes grips him he actually melts closer, warm and at ease. He lets Wes play with his hands a bit, then takes them back to sign, I have something different which each of you. Not better. Different.
He nods, and unconsciously the fingers of his right hand touch the ring finger of his left, trying to fiddle with something that is no longer there.
I'm very organised. You're smart to keep it intimate and not a big affair.
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I knew I had to get my shit together, because I kept freaking out on you guys.
I was treating you all terribly.
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What if you hadn't come back? That would have been the last time... just a note. Just some note, and me not having any idea what I did wrong. He feels moisture clouding his eyes and wills it away, blinking hard.
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You did nothing wrong. Nothing. And believe me, I've thought about that, and I felt terrible. I understand, Wes. I feel in love with a guy here who just vanished one day.
I can't apologise enough. All I can say is that I still love you as much as the last time I saw you. Maybe more.
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Maybe that's why his mind is so determined to tell him that this is all too good to be true. Wes knows he doesn't deserve it. He can't even call it borrowed -- it feels stolen. Too precarious in his hands and too dangerous to hand over. Since Grady proposed, he's lived with the sick fear that the universe will never give him what he truly wants. His partner's death, Jean-Paul's disappearance... Any other month they'd be an ordinary part of life in Deerington. Now he has to insist his mind not to think of them as the beginning of the end.
You went home? How did you get back again?
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He takes Wes' one hand and presses it to his chest, letting the big man feel his heartbeat. He sits that way for a minute, then lifts his hands again. It's amazing how everything flows back so easily, all the knowledge and memory. It's almost as if he hadn't gone anywhere at all.
I've missed you in my heart so very much. You were there somehow, even when I didn't remember.
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How long were you there? You remember everything that happened to you while you were gone?
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Years. He runs his hands through Wes' hair, over and over, before pulling them back. I've had a lot happen. Gained people, lost people. The world is different. I remember it, yes. It's so very strange.
I missed you. Look at you. You look so handsome.
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Did you? he shakes his head slowly. Do you still want to be here? Or do you want to be back home? Years, Jean-Paul?
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He takes Wes' hand and kisses the back of it before letting go. I think if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be.
Wes, we don't have to talk about it all right now. I can see I have upset you enough for one day.
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I'm just worried. Maybe I'm being selfish. He gestures at the strewn reception supplies he hasn't even begun to organize into any semblance of order. This is a stolen life, and I don't deserve it. The closer I come to having what I want, the more I think something's going to stop me from getting it.
I want to talk. I want to keep talking to you. It worries me, maybe we don't talk enough. Everyone seemed to know what was going on except me. It seems like it's easier with you and everyone else. I'm worried I make it too hard.
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And god help anyone who tries to stop you two, because I WILL cut a bitch.
He sighs and softens. You don't make it hard. You may feel that way only because you don't have the same baseline weirdness Logan and Kurt and I do. I mean... if I tell Kurt I was trapped in an alternate earth where they scrubbed all my memories and made me into a cop who enforced breeding rules he'd just shrug and ask if I wanted more coffee. Not entirely true - Kurt would at least have a 'mein gott' or two to add.
But I love talking to you. I find it easier to talk to you about certain feelings than I do with others, because I know you understand. He kisses Wes' cheek tenderly.
I can help with the wedding stuff if you want. I know how.
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It's not just Logan and Kurt. I know you and Grady started out rough, but now you have something. I watch, and it just seems easier for everyone else. Wes shrugs and drops his gaze to Jean-Paul's hands. Taking one, he strokes the man's palm and plays idly with his fingers.
I'm glad you're back. And I need all the help I can get.
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He nods, and unconsciously the fingers of his right hand touch the ring finger of his left, trying to fiddle with something that is no longer there.
I'm very organised. You're smart to keep it intimate and not a big affair.