Crossed Paths

AN: This chapter is shorter than the others, and yes I PROMISE there will be at least one more after this one. I could have added a few more segments if I really wanted to, but I needed to get all this down at once to keep the theme of the chapter going.

I keep telling myself that I'm going to add a chapter with absolutely no sex, but I can't bring myself to write one. Thanks to the people who like my James/Heather pairing. I was afraid it would be too taboo. Well, that's about it. Enjoy! Don't forget to rate and review, please!

 

 

"You'll never get it started that way, kiddo." James smiled from underneath the hat settled over his face. It did a good job of shielding his eyes from the setting sun. He stretched out on the ground with his back pack propped up under his head.



A younger man crouched over a small pile of kindling. He feverishly sawed two twigs against each other, fruitlessly trying to start a fire. "Hell, old man. You ain't even looking," he joked back.



"I don't have to look. You always try it the exact same way."



"It's the way my dad taught me." He blew into a spark, but it went completely out instead of growing. He sighed. "I guess survival skills aren't genetic...."



James laughed. "Just let me know when you need me to step in, Nick."



"Fuck it." He took a zippo out of his pocket and lit the mound with ease. He piled larger logs around it until he was assured it wouldn't go out.



The dry logs echoing off each other like bowling pins made James finally look over. "Why do you even bother trying the old fashioned way if you're just going to cheat in the end?"



Nick shrugged. "It's what my old man would've wanted. You know, for me to be self sufficient and stuff."



James watched him take a cigarette from his pack and light it on the flames. "You think your old man would've wanted his son smoking? I don't understand how you can afford those at the rate you go through them."



Nick giggled playfully. "That's why I stole these. And this." He produced a large bottle of Patron from his own pile of belongings.



James raised an eyebrow, but smiled at the same time. He wasn't going to argue with free alcohol, even it was dishonest. "Good job, junior."



After a dinner of beans heated in the fire, the bottle was quickly opened. They took turns taking gulps as the night continued, stories melting into songs. Nick had the idea to add the last log to the bonfire, and nearly tripped into the flames while doing so. Apparently he didn't have the same tolerance as James. He shook his head back and forth, laughing at himself. "I thought the food would slow it down. Guess not."



His wieght plopped back down next to James on the large rock nearby. It was cushioned only by their jackets, but neither one of them could imagine a more comfortable place. Nick grabbed another smoke and lit it, leaning onto James's shoulder with a serious expression on his face. He waited for James to finish another swig before he spoke. "Hey, buddy, I just want to let you know that you are.....awesome. Just awesome."



James laughed at the praise. "That's the tequila talking."



"No! I mean it. You're the best, old man." He took the bottle and raised it up in a toast, then swallowed down a sizeable chunk of the remaining liquid. "We always have so much fun together! I've never had a friend like you."



James grabbed the bottle away and imbibed some more. "I have to admit, there aren't many people I would bring on this trip. It's complicated."



"Yeah! We're gonna have a blast at, at um," Nick took another drag, struggling to remember the right words. "Silent Valley!"



James laughed again. "It's Silent Hill. But close enough." He watched as Nick stood and clumsily attempted air guitar. "Wow. It's about time to cut you off-" James stopped talking, and his head perked towards the woods suspiciously. It was now pitch black save for the tiny sliver of moon rising. "Did you hear that?"



Nick didn't notice the concern at all. He continued dancing around until a tall man stepped into view from the direction of the noise. When he saw him, James put down the bottle and stood. Nick, finally realizing there was a third soul present, stopped moving and looked the intruder up and down nervously. James had encountered enough fellow travellers on his journeys to be able to tell which were friends, and which were foes. This man was quite obviously an enemy. The crystal clear aura of deceit and lies were all around him.



"Hey, didn't mean to scare you. Are you guys camping?" The stranger had a weary voice, deep and steady.



James made sure his posture and tone were firm. "Something like that. What are you doing out here?"



The man smiled in a poor attempt to gain their favor. He took another step towards the fire, and Nick took another step towards him. "Me? I'm just passing through. I bet you boys are too, eh?" He looked at Nick then back to James, nodding to himself. "You fellas seem awful nervous. No need. We're all friends here."



James stood his ground. "What's your definition of 'friend,' friend?"



The intruder smiled bigger, mistakenly under the impression that he was making progress. "Friends are people that relax and have fun together. They also share. Do you guys want to share?"



Nick finally spoke up. "You're out of luck. We just ate the last of our food, and our booze is almost gone."



James saw frustration play across the man's features, but only for a moment. His acting skills were good, but James's ability to read people was better. The stranger pretended to warm himself on the nearby flames and continued. "Awe, come on now. You're telling me you guys don't have any food or water? At all? Those packs look pretty full. You've got to have something worthwhile in there...."



James sighed, finally letting his anger show. "It's all dirty laundry. We don't have anything for you. I think you better move along now."



Brown eyes glared at James from across the fire, the smile beneath them fading. "No reason for that. We're all still friendly here."



Nick swayed slightly, but his tone was even with his friend's. "We don't feel like being friendly tonight. Maybe you better take his suggestion to heart."



As the stranger's focus turned to Nick, he circled around the fire closer to him. James moved as well, uneasiness now as obvious as his clenched fists and narrowed eyes. He almost wanted to tell Nick to get behind him, but that was guaranteed to provoke a hostile response. All he could do was wait, and be angry at himself for allowing Nick to stay closer to the intruder than he was. James's heart nearly burst out of his chest when he noticed the small blade hidden against the tall man's palm.  He swallowed the fear down and watched.



The stranger nodded again, all cheerfulness evaporating into a cold anger that James was all too familiar with. "Well, friend, what if I told you that I ain't leaving until I get something?"



Nick snorted. He defiantly threw the remainder of his cigarette aside in a childish display of dominance.  If James weren't so focused on keeping the situation from escalating, he would have considered the gesture crudely brave. "Then I'd have to say that we have ourselves a problem here. Because you ain't getting anything from us."



With that, the intruder finally attacked.



The next minute was a whirlwind of movement, shadows and panic. The only thing James could think to do was get the stranger as far away from his friend as possible, and he succeeded in doing so. He was vaguely aware of Nick curled on the ground as he wrestled with the taller man, grunting and pushing and praying. When the trespasser sliced his knife into Jame's shoulder, he also left his torso prone. James took the fortuitous opportunity to shove his attacker into the campfire.



The man landed in flames and embers with an audible thud. The burning wood collapsed beneath his ample weight, pulling him down farther into the scorching heat. The scream that burst from his throat vibrated through the trees like a clap of thunder. Clothing fused to skin and flesh boiled, and James felt no remorse for inflicting it. Conceding defeat, the large man limped away in the same direction he had arrived. The only bounty he retreated with were burns and shame.



Out of breath, James went to check on Nick. "You've got balls, kid. I'll give you that much." He nearly laughed with relief until Nick rolled onto his back. James's eyes widened in fear and his heart beat doubled. For a moment, no cognitive thoughts made it through the veil of disbelief.



Before James had chased the stranger away, he managed to stab Nick several times in the chest and stomach. Blood was pouring from his torso at a an unmeasurable rate, and James instantly knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. In a city, he could easily try to carry a wounded comrade to a hospital. This many miles outside of civilization, all he could do was helplessly watch.



James quickly grabbed the bottle of Patron from it's resting spot and knelt down to his friend's limp body.  "Here buddy. Finish it." His voice was shaking, but he tried to hide it. He poured the last few gulps into Nick's mouth, eyes darting around in desperation. He was thankful there was just enough alcohol already coursing through his friend's veins to dull the pain.



After swallowing it down Nick coughed, his breathing labored. His young eyes looked up at James, fearful expression illuminated by firelight. A tear rolled down the side of his face. "I'm not going to make it-"



"-Don't say that," James interrupted.



Nick released the barest hint of a laugh before grunting in pain. "Stop it," he said between breaths. "Don't make this out to be something it isn't. My time is up, buddy. We both know it."



James nodded sternly, trying to remain calm. "Is there anything I can do?"



"No. Just being here-" His body briefly convulsed, and James let out a moan of sympathy in return. "Just being here near me is enough. I'm glad I'm not going to die alone. You got that?" James nodded again. "I want you to go do everything we planned on doing together. I want you to remember me."



"You know I will."



"You're the best friend I ever had....I ever had, James."



"And you were mine."



Nick looked down at his injuries, then back up to James. He pulled him in closer for emphasis, his speech becoming more erratic. "No matter what happens, don't let anyone take you. Never let anyone have the very last part of you. Nobody....nobody can take that away unless you let them."



"I won't," James answered, finally crying.



Nick's eyes fluttered, and his body slacked. Then he said something James would never forget for as long as he lived. "I loved you like a father..." His voice weakly trailed off, and his body relaxed further. Then all movement and breathing ceased completely, and James knew he was gone.



For the first time in a very long while, James cried like a child. He pulled Nick's lifeless body against him and wept into his hair for what seemed like hours, and nobody was around to see nor care about his broken heart.



He woke up the next morning to the sun shining overhead. After he removed what very little of Nick's gear that was usable, he drug his body into the forest and pilled leaves and clothing over him. He didn't have the equipment or the energy to bury him properly, but he did the best he could under the circumstances. After some final rocks and wood, he placed Nick's back pack and his own bloody clothing over the mound and stood straight. He took the few steps towards the campsite, making a conscious decision not to look back.



Keeping his word, James hiked the rest of the way to Silent Hill in a daze. When he got there, the metropolis he was expecting had vanished. The structures all stood, but the town seemed abandoned. There was a familiar thick fog blanketing everything, and the people were nowhere to be found. Silent Hill was in nearly the same state it had been the last time he was here.



James knew the site before his eyes was not reality. He knew everything in this town was still continuing normally on some plane of existence. But apparently that plane was now inaccessible to him. He would never check into the same hotel he and Mary spent their honeymoon, nor do anything else he enjoyed here ever again. He realized that he was forever marked as a prior visitor to the otherworld. Because he had witnessed the horrors of this town, and the horrors within himself, this quiet purgatory was the only thing that would greet him from that point forward. There were no monsters or puzzles this time around. There was only a dead, lonely silence that told him there was nothing here for him any longer.



James accepted that fact, and turned back the way he came.



When he finally passed Nick's remains again, he stopped and looked over them. "You were right. I had a blast." He kissed his fingertips and pressed them against the grave before adding "Good bey, kiddo."



He passed the campsite quickly, not wanting to remember what happened there. Before he got too far out of it's range, his vision noticed a curious small object in the dirt. He bent down to retrieve it and realized it was the half consumed cigarette from the night before.



James continued walking as he lit it up Nick's last smoke and finished it himself.



















James took a long, deep drag from the cigarette in his hand and looked forward. It seemed strange to him that he wasn't upset right now, gazing at the tomb stone of a loved one. Maybe he had subconsciously expected this. Perish the thought, he might have even been secretly hoping for it. Whatever the reason for James's relaxed composure, there was nothing he could do to remedy the site before him.



His father was dead, and nothing could change that. He allowed the months and years slip away without attempting contact, and now it was too late. There was a part of James that considered the predicament to be the lesser of two evils; even if they had the opportunity to speak, the conversation would have been strained to say the very least. Not to mention if questions about Mary came up.



James was so lost in thought, it took him quite a while to notice there was another person nearby. When he did, he jumped. An older woman had been standing behind him for however long, uncomfortably shifting and trying to think of what to say. Out of respect, James extinguished his cigarette. The woman smiled, trying to subdue the tension. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to frighten you."



James returned the smile to make her feel at ease. "That's ok, ma'am. I was just paying my respects and I didn't see you."



Her age weary frame waddled closer, seemingly happy to have someone to talk to. "Yes, yes. I see. Did you know Frank well?"



"We were close once, but we lost touch," he lied. His curiosity got the better of him, and he cleared his throat. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you know him?"



"Frank managed the building I live in." She passed James and placed a hand on the grave for support. "He was the super there since...well, farther back than I can remember now. He was the most helpful and polite man I've ever known."



"Yes, he was always nice. It's a shame I didn't get to see him one last time."



"It is a shame," she agreed. "He had an oddness about him, but you could tell he was a good egg. He always looked on the bright side, no matter how strange things got among the tenants...." The woman let her voice trail away, as if haunted by some distant memory. James didn't question the matter further, and she didn't offer much explanation for it. "He had a lot on his plate at one point, and he handled it splendidly. Much better than I would have, anyhow."



"He was very good under pressure," James replied in turn. "We should all be so lucky to have such a steady hand."



The confirmation seemed to put her in an even better mood.  She eyed James quietly for a moment before continuing. "You look so familiar, dear. Did you also live in the building?"



"No, sorry. I live rather far away. I don't think we've ever met. But it's nice to know somebody cares enough to come visit my old friend. Since I can't."



The woman nodded to herself as she listened. "I come by here nearly every day. Rain or shine."



"Speaking of rain, I believe there's some due today. Are you going to be ok out here?"



She smiled warmly at his concern. "I'll be fine, thank you. I've survived worse. In fact, I think I should continue my route. I have to keep up the pace." She punctuated the sentence with a wink and slowly turned to leave.



James nodded towards her. "It was nice meeting you," he offered.



"The same, dear! Take care," she called over her shoulder. James watched her hunched form waddle away, and just like that, the short conversation was finished. There was probably much more to learn from her, but his circumstances didn't really lend themselves to arranging such a thing.



James was alone with the grave once more. The distinct impression of time and space separating him from his father was as fresh in the air as the smell of the impending weather. Frank and James had each led rich enough lives since they parted ways. Memories of the distant past were the best their relationship would ever get, and James now realized he was fine with that.





















Gentle raindrops pinged against a hotel window as the clouds that harbored them crawled lazily across the sky. A trail of discarded clothing was strewn in a path leading to the bedroom, where the telltale sounds of pleasure called forth. The squeaking of springs overshadowed the quiet thunder, but not quite enough for a passerby to take notice.



Heather's wrists strained against the scarf that bound them to the headboard. Her body arched up into James as he happily thrust away, staring down into her helpless expression as she squirmed. He licked his lips and allowed his voice to delve into a low tone. "You like this, don't you?"



Heather looked up into her lover's eyes, which were expectantly studying her reactions. She curled her foot around his leg and didn't stop moving against him. "Yes," she whined.



He took a sharp inhalation and grinned to mark the satisfaction the simple word brought him. "Again," he ordered with moan.



Nails dug into sheets and veins boiled with sensation as the pace quickened. "Yes," she whimpered again. Her head smoothed deeper into the mattress as she braced herself. She would give anything to have the free use of her arms again, but the knot above her head was secure. The spot deep within her being stroked against ached with need. It begged her to ask that he go faster, but there was no point while James was in alpha male mode. Any requests on her part would prompt him to stop and punish her for breaking the submissive role, and right now she desperately just wanted this to continue.



A high pitched squeal escaped from Heather's lips, her face contorted into a mix of pleasure and anticipation. She more hungrily circled her hips up into every thrust, quite obviously nearing a climax. The enthusiastic display made James smile bigger and wrap an arm around his sweet little seductress. They needed to find a way to do this more often. He nuzzled his face into her neck and kept going. Everything else in the world further faded away, just as it always did when they were together.



Afterwards, they wove around each other and caught their breath to the sound of rainfall. James mercifully released her hands after realizing Heather was still tied up. The sweat dampened fabric pressed against their flesh eventually grew colder, and Heather was the first to break the long silence. "I needed that."



"So did I," James answered, kissing her forehead before standing. He made his way to the bathroom, leaving the door open.



Heather bent her knees and pulled her torso up to grab her legs. "We need to talk," she suddenly called after him.



James's head curiously popped around from behind the door frame. "About what? You're not starting to feel guilty on me, are you?" He disappeared again to see to his business.



Heather sighed. This conversation was not going to be easy. "You remember that weekend I was telling you about?"



"Yeah. Um, the vacation with what's-his-face?" His voice echoed back.



"Yeah." She buried her face in her knees absentmindedly. Frustration rose in her stomach at the fact that James would never remember her boyfriend's name, but that was currently the least of her worries.



His still naked form reappeared and stood next to the bed, hands to hips. The slightest bit of confusion played across his features. "Well? What about it?"



Heather turned her head to the side, but her eyes stayed fixed on the sheets. "I guess it's not really that big a deal...." Her voice slowly trailed away without finishing the thought.



"Just tell me," he said flatly while rolling his eyes.



Heather sat up straighter and pivoted her body towards his position. She kept her voice low and steady. "James, he asked me to marry him."



James let one hand slide off his hip and fall to his side, while the other reached up to rub his neck. His expression didn't change, but his gaze floated up toward the ceiling. "You said yes?"



"Of course I said yes."



James looked at her. "Do you love him?"



In response, Heather's eyes widened. Surprisingly, she didn't seem angry. "Laura needs a father, and I need a stable man in my life."



"You didn't answer my question," he breathed gently.



"That's none of your business," she replied evenly.



"So," James nodded to himself uncomfortably and considered the options. "I guess you're saying you don't want to do this anymore?"



Heather pretended all the possible outcomes hadn't already crossed her mind, but they both knew otherwise. "I don't know," she started. "It wouldn't really be right, would it?"



To answer, James closed the space that separated their bodies. He took her a second time, uncertain if he would ever do so again.