surfacage | trick or treat

Glen easily dodged the candy a smile finally coloring his face. He stood up from the piano bench and gestured for Jack to have a seat, " I do believe it is your turn to entertain, then."

Jack flinched when Glen stood up, instinctively taking a step back before remembering himself, and nodding silently, looking at his feet.

He set the bowl down and sat where directed, holding his hands close to his chest; they were shaking.

"What would you like me to play?"

"Anything is fine." Glen sat down in a chair on the left side of the piano, appearing completely casual and relaxed. He had finished his water but for some reason his mouth still felt stuffed with cotton.

Jack stole a look at Glen out of the corner of his eye, watching for any signs of the toxin taking effect.

He knows this piece (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klZYv-f9kCE&feature=related) by heart, and he starts playing it.

The piece was well played, but by the end of it, there was only hacking for applause. Glen gripped his chest, sweating it out a little, covering his mouth with his other hand, but it would not stop. Once he was quite through, his bangs were sticking to his forehead and the sides of his face, and his cheeks had a rosy color. The last thing he saw was Jack, before his eyes slid shut, his body shutting down to fight off the poisons within him.

Perhaps the poison had worked a little too well. So much for subtlety.

Jack wasn't expecting Glen to react like that - he'd expected it to be gradual, with the other man excusing himself to lie down, probably waking up with a fever and headache -

"Glen? Glen!" He yelled, immediately lunging to his side and cradling his shoulders. "Oh, god, Glen, what - "

He quickly patted himself down for the antidote, tearing the cork out with his teeth and tipping it into his mouth, before leaning in to transfer it by direct contact.

Glen didn't respond at first, but after a moment he swallowed all of it, a little at a time, returning the kiss without thought. His head felt so heavy and his body weak, but he clung to Jack, not yet processing what had happened.

Jack's first thought: "Thank goodness he's alive."

His second thought: "He's going to kill me."

But he can't let go, not like this, when Glen's clutching at him like a lifeline. He'd let the man hurt him any day, offer himself if needed, if wanted. He curled up over him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead and brushing a kiss over the skin.

"Glen?"

Jack hadn't realized how little Glen had been sleeping, how little he'd been taking care of himself. He had no goals in this place, and no one to live for. his true love had left him, and the Jack he had loved had been gone nearly ten months now. No, he had nothing but music, notes, and even with those, it was not companion enough. He was suffering, but he had no influence on the powers that be here, no contact with the Abyss or the Will, no options but to wither away.

Had he eaten that morning, it never would have hit him so hard.

Still, it wasn't connecting fully. Perhaps there had been something in the water? He had to check something, still gripping onto Jack, his head bowed low, "Just now, just now did you give me something?" The antidote had been tasteless, and he had not been awake enough to notice what was happening. This was Jack's way out, if he'd take it.

Up close, this close, he could see the bags under Glen's eyes, how dry his lips were. He knew Glen as much as he possibly could, after living and being his attendant (the substitute), and seeing him like this made him want to gather him up in his arms and tell him that everything will be all right.

"I did."

He murmurs, quietly, but with conviction, and he smiles bitterly.

"I'm sorry."

Ah, it fell into place then. Glen assumed the water had been poisoned first, but then he wouldn't have had those symptoms before he drank the water which only left the candy.

"You poisoned the candy?" he leaned his head into Jack's chest, still feeling too weak to hold himself up. He wished he'd finished the job, that Glen might die and then forget when he came back, or better, not come back-it was all so tiring anyway, living again and again and again. It was so much more worse here. His power was next to meaningless here. There was nothing fun to do, no people to manipulate, no places to go, no love to spend time with. This was hell, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

"Are you done then? We're even?" He assumed that might be the case considering Jack had given him the antidote.

Jack cradled him close, kneeling properly, like he didn't want to let Glen go. He just wanted a chance to redeem himself, but - this was Glen. Of course something was bound to go horribly wrong.

"Even for what?" He asked, quietly, curiously, arms still around the other man.

"Your death," he knew he shouldn't, but he wrapped his arms around him making the mental excuse that he just wasn't feeling well.

It was just nice . . . to be near someone.

Jack flinched at the embrace but held his ground, and he pressed his forehead against Glen's, comparing temperatures.

"That's okay, silly, I deserved it." He didn't. He knew he didn't, he hadn't done anything wrong - but it was Glen. It was okay if it was him. "Don't worry about it."

"Then why?" Jack was too close like this so he moved his head to the couch, resting his head on the seat.

Yes, he would need to be nursed back to health.

"Because - "

Jack can't answer that directly, so he came up to his knees and crawled over, arm curling over Glen's back.

"I'll get you to a room, you can't stay like this."

"Because why?" He won't go with them until he knows Jack's motives, "If not revenge then what?"

Jack curled up his hands into fists on his knees, as he sat back on his haunches.

"I - I wanted to take care of you," he admitted, cheeks burning. "If you were sick, I thought - I could."

"Hmpm, heh-" Glen actually got out a few laughs before he coughed violently. He wasn't angry. It was . . . . flattering, really, endearing, almost.

Jack immediately went to his side, again, arm around his shoulders, a hand curling gingerly around a sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I really am, you can do anything you want to me - but please, after you get some rest."

"I'm not angry with you." He tried to stand, but he was leaning back on Jack in seconds.

Jack caught him instantly, a hand around his waist, pulling Glen's arm over his own shoulder.

"It's okay," he repeated, still thinking Glen was some kind of delirious. "Come on, I'll get you to a bed."

Glen complied, able to walk much easier with Jill leading the way, "You could have started with dinner, Jack," he was smiling weakly. Jack's affections for him were plain as day.

Jack looked here and there, searching for an empty room. This one looked good - he toed the door open, helping Glen inside.

"...I can't cook," he admitted, blushing again.

"I've yet to meet a Jack that could." He fell into the bed easily.

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