OC_BigBang Fanfic- Blackwood Creek 8/12
Title- Blackwood Creek 8/12
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 7,000
Summary- As Logan keeps a bedridden Jake company, the two boys learn more about each other and themselves.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
The first thing Jake saw when he woke was Logan. The older boy had fallen asleep in his chair by Jake’s bed and was leaning dangerously to the side, almost ready to fall. Jake lifted a hand to rub his eyes, but a twinge of pain reminded him that his right hand was injured. He looked at the bandages over his palm, and saw that they were wrinkled from the movement. Then he lifted his left hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
It had been midmorning before Ross deemed it safe for Jake to fall asleep. From the look of the sky outside the window, it was late afternoon or early evening now. Jake groaned and stretched his arms out in front of him, wincing when his shoulders and ribs complained. In the chair beside him, Logan moaned and shifted at the noise. He almost fell but managed to catch himself, his eyes flying open as he jolted himself awake.
“Morning,” Jake said with a groggy smile. “Or I guess it’s evening now.”
Logan groaned in answer, adjusting his position on the chair and stretching. He touched the bruise on his neck tenderly. It had turned black and purple, just as Jake had known it would. The shape of the ghost’s hand was distinctly visible in the dark bruising, the thumb under the right side of Logan’s jaw, the palm over the front of his throat, and the four fingers on the left side. The front and left sides of his neck were the worst: from his jaw to his collarbone, the skin was entirely black and purple with bruising. “Your neck looks awful,” Jake told him.
“Yeah, well, let’s see how your side looks,” Logan grumbled, his voice thick from sleep. Jake pushed back the covers and looked down at the bandages. On his left, where the table had hit, he could see purple edges of bruising above and below the bandages. On his right side, the side that had been slammed against the cabinet, his shoulder and hip were bruised. “You don’t look so good either,” Logan observed. Jake grimaced and pulled the sheet back up.
A sharp knock on the door made them both jump, and without waiting for an invitation Holly opened it and came in. “Oh, good,” she said. “I thought I heard voices up here. How’re you boys feeling?”
“Sore,” Logan muttered. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, and Jake saw that there were bruises along his upper back too, probably from being thrown onto the table. “You got anything stronger than aspirin around?”
“We might have some better stuff,” Holly said thoughtfully. “I haven’t been around much lately, though, so I don’t know if it might have been used up.”
“How’s about getting me some breakfast?” Jake asked. “Or lunch, or whatever meal you’re serving now? I’m starved!”
“Aren’t you demanding! Didn’t you just eat before going to bed?” Holly asked.
“Hey, nearly dying is hungry work!” Jake grinned at her, and Holly laughed.
“You were never going to die!” Logan scoffed. “Now me, I almost died last night.” He said it like it was something to be proud of, and Jake laughed.
“Yeah, and I saved your ass, didn’t I?” Logan’s grin faded into a little smile, but unlike most of the smiles Jake had seen on Logan’s face this one wasn’t wry or sad. It seemed kind, almost tender.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you did.”
Pride flared in Jake’s chest at the admission, and he grinned. “Not some dumb kid playing at being a hunter anymore, am I?” Logan chuckled softly and shook his head.
“Y’know, you really know how to ruin a moment,” Logan said, though there was no reproach in his voice. “Just like a stupid kid.”
Holly’s soft laughter reminded them both of her presence, and they turned to look at her. “Alright, mighty hunter,” she said to Jake, gentle sarcasm in her tone. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up for you.” Holly gave Logan a smile and brushed her fingers over his shoulder as she turned to go. “Can I get you anything?” she asked him.
“Whatever you bring for Jake is fine,” Logan said. Holly nodded and left the two of them alone.
“So,” Jake sighed, “what’re we going to do now?”
“Well, you certainly can’t travel in this condition, at least not for another twenty-four hours,” Logan asserted. “And I’m not really in good shape for traveling either. We’ll see how we’re feeling tomorrow, I guess, and then maybe we’ll set out again.” Logan grimaced as though the thought of staying in bed galled him. Jake covered a smile. He could see Logan being an incredibly bad patient, always pushing himself too far and delaying his recovery.
“I don’t like wasting time, though,” Logan said, Jake’s smile fell at his grim tone. “Not when my dad might be…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, unable to put his fears to words.
“Yeah,” Jake murmured softly, feeling guilty for thinking Logan’s eagerness to get back on the road was for restlessness rather than worry. Despite that, he couldn’t help but notice that Logan hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of him leaving Jake behind, despite the fact that with his injuries even Jake would admit that he was now more of a liability than an asset. It seemed he had managed to prove himself to Logan, not only as a hunter in general but as a part of this hunt in particular. Logan wasn’t going to cut him out of it now; he knew that Jake had risked too much to not see it through.
And, Jake realized with a start, this was the first time during their entire trip that he had left the car without the keys firmly in his own pocket. It had been within Logan’s power to leave him at the Roadhouse and go at any time, and he hadn’t. Jake looked at the older teen, studying his face. He had been vulnerable to Logan, and Logan had not let him down. In addition to Jake proving that Logan could trust him, Logan had also proven himself trustworthy. They had each tested the other and found him to be dependable, and now they could start to become closer friends. Jake smiled at the thought.
Logan still appeared bogged down in thoughts of his father, his expression serious and closed off. Jake tried to help his mood by changing the subject. “So, where in Montana are we going again?”
Logan looked up, his silent contemplation interrupted. “Blue Ridge,” he answered after a moment’s pause. He passed Jake the map he’d borrowed from Ross to look over the previous night. “It’s about a five-day drive, if we start early and stop late. Think you’ll be up to it by tomorrow?”
“I dunno,” Jake admitted. “I guess I could if you’ll drive all day the first few. Maybe by the time we get there I’ll be feeling well enough to do some driving too.”
“I can handle the driving,” Logan assured him. “I’ve done plenty of that. I wanna know if five days’ll be enough time for you to recover enough to help me with the vampires. Or will you need to rest more?”
Jake grimaced as he thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said solemnly. “Last night was pretty rough; I don’t know if I’ll ever be up for a repeat of that.”
“We went in without weapons,” Logan pointed out. “We’ll be ready when we face the vampires.”
“How? You said yourself that the only way to kill them is by cutting off their heads. I don’t really want to get that close to something that can kill me. And you still haven’t told me what you’re planning on doing with the blood.” Jake looked to the nightstand where the syringe of blood had been when he had fallen asleep. It wasn’t there.
He turned back to Logan, alarmed. “Where’s the blood?”
Logan held up a little plastic bottle filled with a brown liquid. “Ross gave me this to put it in last night. Or this morning, whatever.” Logan swirled the bottle and watched the thick blood slosh slowly against its walls. “What we’re going to do,” he explained, “is dip crossbow bolts in it and fire those as the bastards. We should be able to take out a few from a distance that way. The rest will probably rush us, so we’ll dip our knives and machetes in it too. Hopefully it’ll work quickly enough to drop them as soon as we cut them. Then while they’re down we can cut off their heads without worrying about them attacking us.”
“How many do you think there will be?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know,” Logan sighed. “I’ve never hunted vampires before. People used to say that a guy called Elkins had hunted them into extinction. Then he was found dead, and word is that vampires did it and the Winchesters hunted and killed them. But it seems like that was the last of them. Other than that, I’ve never heard of them being hunted during my lifetime. But,” Logan said with a sigh, “they can hole up for years, centuries even, feeding on animals, so who knows how many might still be out there.”
“The vampires?” Holly asked as she pushed open the door, a tray of food in her hands. On it were a pot of tomato soup, a plate of half sandwiches, a bowl of potato chips, and two cans of soda. Holly set the tray on the nightstand and began doling out food. “I still say it’s stupid to go after them,” she said as she removed two bowls from beneath the one holding the chips and began ladling soup into them. Jake stared at the bowl of red liquid that was thrust into his hands. Between the dead man’s blood and his own bleeding injuries, he didn’t really want to eat the blood-colored soup. On the other hand, from what he knew of hunters he figured that refusing it might be hazardous to his health.
“If you’re so worried,” Logan said as he lifted his own bowl to his mouth, ignoring the proffered spoon, “why don’t you tag along and keep an eye on us?” Holly frowned and leaned against the side of the bed.
“I was just planning on stopping here for the night,” she said. “I’ve got a hunt in Evansville, Indiana that I need to get to. Otherwise, I would go with you. Hunting things that go in packs, you need as many pairs of eyes and hands as you can get. I’d almost say ask my dad, except he’s too old and would probably get himself killed if he tried.” She rolled her eyes as she said the last, and then shook her head at Logan. “Just two people… I don’t think it’s smart. I don’t know what Luke was thinking going by himself.”
Holly sighed and straightened up. “Well, all I really wanted to do was say goodbye to you before I left. If it hadn’t been for you going and getting hurt, and then asking me for food, I’d have been out of here at dawn today. I’ve wasted too much time already. I need to get back on my hunt. I’ll see you, Logan.” She gave him a carefully hug, trying not to press too hard on his bruised back and neck. The she turned to Jake.
“See you, kid, if you manage to survive this first hunt. I don’t envy you; even experienced hunters wouldn’t want to go after these things, and definitely not people on their first time out.” Her expression was serious as she gazed at him, then her face broke into a smile. “But you’re off to a good start, aside from the injuries. You saved Logan’s life, which is saying something.” She gave Logan a look as she said it, and he rolled his eyes at her. “So I’m guessing I’ll see you again, or at least hear about you. Good luck.” She patted his foot through the covers, just about the only part of Jake’s body that could be touched without hurting. Then Holly nodded to both of them and turned and left.
Jake stared at the door for a moment after she’d left, then he turned to Logan with a grin. “See? She thinks I’m doing pretty well.” Logan snorted.
“Nah. She’s just being nice to you ‘cause she thinks you’re going to die soon.”
“Hey!” Jake laughed. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Logan, who yelped as the pillow hit his soup bowl and sloshed it out over his chest. Logan looked down at the red liquid dripping down his skin and onto his pants, then glared up at Jake. There was a playful glint in his eyes, however, and he set his soup bowl aside and picked up the pillow again. Jake hurriedly put his bowl next to Logan’s before the pillow struck him on the arm. “Hey! Logan! Quit it, I’m unarmed!”
Jake snatched up another pillow from the bed and swung it at Logan, both of them laughing and ignoring the pain in their half-healed injuries.
The pillow fight lasted a short time before a blow from Logan hit Jake in the side of the head and made him see spots again. Logan checked the scabbed-over gash on Jake’s scalp and assured him he wasn’t bleeding again, and the two of them settled down to their meal. Logan drank Jake’s tomato soup for him, now that Holly wasn’t around to see him turn it down, and Jake ate the roast beef sandwiches, which Logan didn’t like, while Logan ate the grilled cheese ones. When they’d both finished eating, Logan took the tray and empty plates down to the bar’s kitchen to be washed.
Logan returned with a bottle of ibuprofen and two glasses of water, and they both took some pills for the pain. “Are you sure your head doesn’t hurt too bad?” Logan asked as he set his glass down, his expression half way between sheepish and concerned.
“It’s fine,” Jake assured him. “I was more worried about my stomach: when you hit me, I felt sick. But I’m fine now. Or, you know, as close to fine as I can be.” Jake motioned to his side, and Logan nodded sympathetically.
“Do you want me to change the bandages on it?” Logan offered. Jake considered it for a moment, then nodded. Logan hauled out the medical supplies again, spreading them out on the bed beside Jake. He carefully removed the bandages from Jake’s side. The bloody gash where he’d been struck by the sharp edge of the table had been taped together with Band-Aids, not deemed deep enough for stitches, but the bandages that had been over it were still stained with blood. He had two broken ribs and a massive bruise over his left side. It was fortunate, Ross had said, that his arm had been clear of the table, or it would have been shattered by the impact.
Logan wrapped the bandages tightly, which hurt the bruises but was good for the ribs, so Jake tried not to complain. When his side was bandaged, Logan turned his attention to Jake’s hand. This, too, had not been stitched. Logan turned Jake’s hand gently in his as he assessed the damage. “It’s shallow,” Logan said. “You’re lucky, I think. With hands, there are so many muscles and tendons just under the skin, and if they’re damaged you can lose the use of your fingers or even the entire hand. But I think it’s just a skin-deep cut. It’s a good thing you weren’t holding the knife more tightly.” Jake nodded wordlessly, even more disturbed by the knowledge that the events of the previous night could have very easily crippled his dominant hand.
Logan decided that the cut was shallow enough to not warrant actual bandages, and he dabbed it gently with antibiotic ointment and taped a square of gauze on it. Jake watched in fascination as Logan worked. He had learned some field medicine at Blackwood Creek, but Logan’s movements, swift and sure, but gentle enough to not cause any undue pain, spoke of a great deal of experience treating wounds. Logan’s hands, Jake noted, were rough and calloused. His fingers were long and looked delicate, but Jake knew that they were strong and skilled in all of the tasks of a hunter. He had seen first-hand how well Logan could shoot, clean a gun, or handle a pool stick.
When Logan finished with Jake’s hand, he put an ointment for bruises over Jake’s left side and his right hip and shoulder. Jake gulped and bit his lip to keep from giggling when Logan touched his side, which was very ticklish even with the bruising. When Logan was done he wiped the excess ointment on his pants and started to put everything away.
Logan hadn’t put his shirt back on after taking it off the previous night to treat the cut on his chest, and Jake could clearly see the bruises on Logan’s upper back. “Do you want me to put some ointment on your neck or back?” Jake asked him almost shyly.
Logan seemed to be thinking it over for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said. Logan sat on the bed next to Jake and passed him the tube of ointment. Jake squeezed some of it onto his fingertips and gently dabbed it on Logan’s neck. He knew that the bruises must be very painful and he didn’t want to press too hard.
“Turn,” Jake whispered when he had gotten all of the bruise that he could see from that angle. Logan turned around, pulling his legs onto the bed next to Jake’s, so that Jake could reach the right side of his neck. Jake finished with the bruise on Logan’s neck and the other teen turned away so Jake could get his back. There were light bruises on his shoulders and upper back, and Jake could see more on the top of his ass above the waistband of his jeans, but he wasn’t about to put any ointment there.
As he worked, Jake took a moment to admire Logan’s body. He could clearly see the scars along Logan’s back now. There were three of them, one on his right shoulder, white and flat; one diagonal across his lower back, raised and flesh-colored; and one nearly straight up and down from the bottom of his left shoulder blade to the side of his spine midway down his back, red and ropey. Logan’s skin was tanned and Jake suspected that when he wasn’t around other people and had no reason to feel insecure about his scars Logan spent a lot of time with his shirt off. There was a light dusting of freckles over his shoulders and down his upper arms, visible on the skin that wasn’t bruised. Aside from the scars, the skin on Logan’s back was soft and smooth, and warm under Jake’s fingers. He found that he liked touching Logan, though he tried not to think too deeply into that.
When he finished applying the ointment, Jake passed the tube back. Logan stood and picked up the shirt he’d discarded the previous night. He shrugged it on, and as Jake watched the skin of Logan’s stomach disappear beneath the fabric he found he was oddly disappointed.
“I’m going to put this stuff away,” Logan announced as he collected the medical supplies. “Can I bring you anything?”
Jake sighed as he considered the invitation. He was tempted to say “a TV” or “Holly’s laptop” but he knew both were probably impossible. He was getting bored lying in bed, but he knew better than to try moving around any more than was necessary. “Could you bring my duffle bag from the car?” Jake asked, and Logan nodded.
A few minutes later Logan returned with the duffle and set it on the bed next to Jake. Jake glanced over at him, wondering if Logan intended to stay by his side all day. “You don’t need to babysit me, you know,” Jake said as he rummaged through his bag.
“Well, I wanted to spend time with you,” Logan said in an injured tone. “But if I’m not wanted, I’ll just leave.”
“You can stay,” Jake said quickly. “I don’t mind you being here. I just meant, if you don’t want to stay with me, I’ll be alright on my own.”
“I want to stay,” Logan insisted, and Jake nodded in response. He turned away from Logan and slowly pulled a leather-bound book from the bag, his hunting journal that his father had given him when he first sent Jake off to Blackwood Creek. He had hoped that he might get some privacy to write in it, for he used it to record many personal thoughts that he wasn’t entirely sure he felt comfortable sharing with Logan. And he had a lot to write about, because he hadn’t had the opportunity since the evening he and Logan had snuck away from camp.
“What’s that?” Logan asked as Jake started writing.
“My hunting journal,” Jake explained shortly, not wanting to share much about the private book.
Logan leaned closer, trying to read what Jake was writing. He seemed simply curious, and although Jake didn’t think Logan was trying to find secrets he could taunt Jake with, he still moved the book to his other side where Logan couldn’t see. “But you’ve never been hunting,” Logan stated plainly. His voice held no malice but his words made Jake cringe all the same.
“My dad gave it to me my first summer of camp,” Jake replied. “He said to record everything I learned, so that I’d have it all in one place during a real hunt.” Logan nodded thoughtfully.
“My dad had a journal like that,” Logan said. “I don’t. My dad always said he’d get me one when I was ready to start hunting on my own. But here I am without him, and I don’t have a journal to write in.” Logan shrugged. Jake wondered if it bothered Logan that he had a journal while Logan didn’t. It certainly seemed that a hunting journal, like a first hunt, was something of a coming of age gift for hunters’ children. He wondered if Logan felt cheated that Jake, who had never been hunting, had had a journal for so long, while Logan, who had assisted in hunts from a young age, had none.
“Have you been going to camp for long?” Logan asked innocently. “It’s almost halfway full.” He pointed to the pages of the journal, which were indeed nearly half filled.
“This was my tenth year,” Jake admitted with a smile. “But it’s not all stuff I learned at camp. Some of it is just stuff that happened during camp, friends I made and games I played, things like that. And a lot of it is just this sort of thing.” Jake flipped back to an entry from when he’d been nine years old, a page dated during the school year, with “I want to go back to camp!” written across the top in a child’s untidy scrawl, and nothing more.
Logan laughed softly as he looked down at the page. “You really loved Blackwood Creek, didn’t you?”
“It was every child’s dream,” Jake said fondly, a wistful smile on his face as he thought back to those childhood memories. “Going to summer camp to train to fight evil monsters? It’s like something out of a storybook. Any kid would love that.” Jake smiled to himself as he recalled the many happy days he’d had at camp when he was younger. Then his smile faded as he thought of the later days, and how things had changed as the years passed.
“The older I got,” Jake continued, his voice growing softer, “the more serious I was about it. Until it wasn’t just a game to play during the summer. It was more like training to go to war. I started to understand that for hunters, and for the people they protect, it’s a matter of life and death. I felt like I had a calling, a responsibility, because my eyes had been opened to the danger that’s out there. I started to see myself as being different from other people, because of what I knew. It was still…” Jake trailed off and laughed sadly.
“It was still like a storybook, but like one for an older kid. I had been picked; I had been set aside and separated from the others. I had been trained and now I had a responsibility to use my training to protect other people, even if it meant I would know things they never would, and that they’d never be able to understand me because they wouldn’t know what I knew. It was kind of lonely to think about, but it also made me feel… I don’t know, special, I guess. And it would be a life full of excitement and danger. Not boredom and normality and pointlessness. I wanted the hunter’s life.”
“I… I started to think that the kids I went to school with were different from me, because they had an essentially different view of the world from what I did, and that I just couldn’t connect with them. I felt that people I knew from camp were my only real friends. And I started to believe that the life I led during the school year was a lie.”
Logan frowned as Jake spoke. When Jake came to the end of the story, he shook his head slowly. “We’re opposites, I guess.” Logan stared at the bedspread as he spoke, not meeting Jake’s eyes. His soft voice was filled with emotion. “Me, my dad was a hunter and my mom was a civilian, a nurse. He tried to settle down with her and leave the hunter’s ways behind. She died in a car crash when I was a baby, and I guess he just gave up on a normal life after that. He started traveling and hunting again, and took me with him. I grew up thinking the hunting life was totally normal, that other families were exactly the same way. When I got older, I started to understand that I was different from other kids. They didn’t know how to fire a shotgun; they didn’t have to memorize Latin exorcisms. They had both parents and a house to go home to every night and they stayed at the same school for more than a few days at a time.”
“The more I understood, the more I resented it. There were a lot of times that I wished my father had given me over to a relative, or just put me up for adoption after my mom died. So I could be normal. That was when I was in middle school. We fought a lot then, my dad and I. I threatened to run away a couple times. Tried it once or twice. He always found me.”
“As I got older, I realized that by the time I understood enough to resent the life I had, I had already taken in enough of the lifestyle that I was too far gone to try to be normal. There was nothing else I knew how to be, and I was too set in my ways to learn something new. I could never be anything besides a hunter. Once I accepted that, I started to understand my dad a little better. He loved my mom, really loved her, enough to try to change ways that were so engrained they’d almost become a part of his being. It tore him up when she died; he was never the same man as before he met her. He brought me with him because he didn’t want to be alone, and because I was all he had left of her. I guess I can’t blame him for that.”
“After I accepted that I was a hunter, and started to understand what my father had felt when my mother died, we became a lot closer. He’s all I have, really, all I’ve ever had, and even though I’m eighteen now and I know how to take care of myself, I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”
Logan fell silent and Jake stared back at him in wonder, struggling to comprehend the life Logan must have led. As Logan had said, they were opposites in a way. They had both led a life that they hated, and they both saw the other’s life as being ideal. Jake recalled the first time he’d spoken to Logan, how he had casually mentioned his civilian life and how he hated it, before eagerly asking Logan for details of his life as a hunter. He could only imagine how it must have felt for Logan to hear that Jake had lived his dream life, but scorned all of it and wanted the life that Logan had led.
“My dad,” Jake murmured, looking away from Logan. “My dad was also a hunter who tried to settle down with a civilian. He kept hunting after he got married, though. One time, he was hunting a shapeshifter and it took his appearance and came to the house where my mom and I were. I was really little at the time, so I don’t remember, but it nearly killed us both. After that my dad decided we were safer without him. He taught my mom a few basic things to help her keep us safe, and then he left us and went off hunting again. He wanted me to go to Blackwood Creek so I could learn how to defend myself.”
Logan nodded. “It’s all about the mothers,” he said softly. “Maybe if my mother had lived, I’d have had your life.”
“And if the shapeshifter had killed mine, I would’ve had yours,” Jake agreed. Both were silent for a long time, contemplating their respective lives and how they might have gone differently. At length Jake murmured, “I’m sorry,” and Logan looked up at him with a surprised expression.
“For what?”
Jake shrugged awkwardly. “For saying those things when we first met. I talked about my life like I hated it, and I made it pretty clear that I wanted your life. But to you having a mother and living in one place and going to the same school must sound like a dream come true.”
Logan stared off past Jake, his eyes glassy. “’I guess you don’t know what that feels like,’” he murmured, then turned his eyes to Jake. “That’s what you said. ‘I guess you don’t know what that feels like, being stuck in a civilian life.’ I had wished for so long that I could have a civilian life, and I’d finally given up on it. It felt… I don’t know, like you were mocking me, or something. I knew you didn’t understand how I felt, but I was still angry. It made me want to hurt you, so I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. I’m sorry too.”
“What, you, apologizing?” Jake asked with a forced smile, and Logan managed a grin in return.
“Yup. Doesn’t happen very often, so enjoy it while you can.” Jake laughed, a genuine laugh, and picked up his journal to start writing in it. Logan let him, allowing the conversation to die, but the silence between them wasn’t an awkward one.
After Jake finished writing about all that had happened since his last entry, the two boys talked late into the evening. Jake lay in the little bed and Logan sat in his chair, and they talked for hours on end, just getting to know one another. They exchanged details about their lives, from the various schools they had gone to and sports they had played to the different parts of the country they’d seen.
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” Logan asked Jake.
Jake shook his head. “Not really. I dated a few girls for a while, but I was never very serious with them. I never really cared about any of them; it was kind of just to not be single, if that makes sense.” Jake felt silent, and he toyed with the hem of the quilt as he wondered how much he dared to say. How much Logan would let him say. “I used to think I never connected with any of them because they didn’t know about hunting; their views of the world were just too different from mine. But lately I’ve started to wonder if it was less that and more… the fact that they were girls.”
Logan nodded thoughtfully, but offered no advice or comments. Jake could see he’d have to ask a question outright to get Logan to say anything. “What about you?” he asked. “Any serious relationships?”
Logan shook his head. “I’ve hooked up with a couple people, hunters’ kids I’ve run into and civilians, but I’ve never been in a serious relationship.”
“How many of them were guys?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow.
Logan smiled wryly. “A few.”
“How did you know that you’re bi?” Jake pressed. Logan looked up at him and frowned.
“I already told you, I’m not helping you figure out if you like guys. I don’t want to get mixed up in that.”
“What about you?” Jake challenged. He knew they were going into dangerous territory now, but he wouldn’t be the first one to back down. “Were you always totally sure of what you wanted, even the first time you hooked up with a guy?”
Logan’s jaw clenched as he considered how to answer the question. “Doesn’t matter,” he ground out finally. “I know what I want now, and it definitely doesn’t include getting mixed up with a confused teenager who’s just going to use me to satisfy his own curiosity and then probably want to forget any of it ever happened. There are other guys who are more than willing to show you the ropes, no matter how long you plan on staying with them.” Logan’s eyes flashed and he glared disdainfully down at Jake. “I have no responsibility to you. Come back when you’ve figured out what, and who, you want.”
“I think I’m starting to,” Jake replied. Logan raised his chin and stared back, a challenge in his eyes. “Come here,” Jake demanded.
Logan rose from his chair and stepped towards the bed. Jake beckoned him closer, and Logan placed a hand beside Jake’s head on mattress and leaned down until there was barely an inch of space between their faces. The anger was gone from Logan’s eyes now and he looked almost scared. Jake could understand that. He was scared too. But he knew what he wanted now, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what it said about him, or how things would end up.
“I want you,” Jake whispered, and lifted his head from the pillow just enough to allow their lips to meet. It was soft and tender, almost uncharacteristically so, considering how violently their personalities sometimes clashed. Logan took the initiative, caressing Jake’s lips with his tongue, asking for entrance. Jake granted it, allowing Logan to control the kiss without putting up any struggle. Jake’s good hand rose to card through Logan’s soft, short hair, and Logan lifted his other hand to cup the side of Jake’s face. Their tongues twined together leisurely, not battling for dominance but simply reveling in the touch of the other. Soon, though, the need to breathe became too great, and they broke apart.
The moment they separated, Logan pulled back from Jake and turned away, the back of one hand over his mouth. He took a step away from the bed as though he wanted to flee the room, but stopped, hesitating. Jake could see the tension in his muscles and the rigidity of his posture; he was ready to run but unable to make the decision. “What’s wrong?” Jake murmured softly, afraid that he might scare Logan off.
Logan didn’t answer for a long time, and Jake began to worry that something bad had happened without his noticing. Finally Logan whispered, so quietly Jake barely heard, “I could fall in love with you.”
Jake almost laughed in relief. “And I might already be in love with you. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s going to happen when the summer ends?” Logan asked. The tightness of his muscles had lessened but he remained facing away from Jake. “Will we ever see each other again?”
“If we want to, then we will,” Jake replied stubbornly. “Besides, why worry about that now? Can’t you just live in the moment and be happy?”
Logan turned back to Jake, a twisted, sad smile on his face. “I can do the whole living-in-the-moment thing,” he said almost bitterly. “But not when I’m serious about someone. Not when I’m in love. I don’t want to put my heart out there and have it crushed.”
Jake shook his head emphatically. “Look at my dad, Logan. Look at yours. There are no assurances in this life, especially not for hunters. Logan, I could die on this hunt. You could die on it! Shouldn’t you try to be happy while you can?”
Logan hung his head sadly, and when he spoke it was in a defeated tone. “Not if it means that it hurts more when it’s over. I am looking at my dad, Jake. He fell apart after my mom died. I may have only been a baby when it happened, but I lived with the effects of it my whole life. I saw how much it hurt him. He never fully recovered. I don’t want that to happen to me.”
Jake pulled himself up to a sitting position and reached out to take Logan’s hand. He was a little surprised when the other teen didn’t simply snatch his hand away, and he took it as a good sign. “Logan, you’ll never be happy if you’re always worrying like that. You’ll never even give yourself the chance.”
Logan shook his head, not looking at Jake. He didn’t so much pull his hand from Jake’s as let it fall, and Jake could tell from that movement just how hopeless Logan considered his situation to be. He saw he would get no more out of Logan, at least not tonight, but he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end. Jake changed the subject. “What about Holly? Seems like you two used to be pretty serious.”
Logan laughed softly, but Jake could tell that the bitterness was starting to fade. “Holly’s one of the living-in-the-moment things. She’s a good friend. She’s my…” He broke off and smiled tiredly at Jake. “Well, until I met you I’d have said she’s my best friend. We both knew when things started out that neither of us was in love with the other. We both knew that however the sexual part of our relationship ended, we’d be certain to keep our friendship strong. It’s a lot like you and Rae, I think.”
Jake’s jaw dropped at that. His mind scrambled for the right words to express just how wrong the statement was. “Wh-what?” was the best he could manage. “You think Rae and I…? No way!”
“Really?” Logan looked genuinely surprised. “I thought for sure you were. You seemed so jealous when she was spending time with me.”
Jake crossed his arms and looked away, a blush rising in his cheeks. He mumbled under his breath something about not knowing whom he was jealous of. One of Logan’s eyebrows arched up. “Oh, so you were jealous of her, then, huh? Seems like you’ve always known pretty well what you wanted; you just weren’t ready to admit it.” His tone was back to gentle teasing again. If Jake was surprised by the complete one-eighty of Logan’s mood, he didn’t comment. He was just glad that Logan seemed to be happy now.
“I’ve never felt this way about any guy but you,” Jake admitted solemnly. “Really, I’ve never felt this way about anyone, boy or girl.”
Logan looked at Jake thoughtfully, and Jake couldn’t read in his expression what was going through his mind. Then Logan leaned over and pressed his lips lightly against Jake’s. Jake was surprised, but not unhappy, and he kept still as Logan kissed him. He was afraid of doing something to make Logan run again.
“Maybe I can give this living-in-the-moment thing a chance, at least for now,” Logan murmured against Jake’s lips when the kiss ended. “I’m not totally in love with you yet.”
Jake laughed and kissed back. It made him sad, though, to think that Logan was going into this relationship expecting it to end, and end badly. But he would leave the argument alone for now, he decided, because he didn’t want to scare Logan away by pushing it. He just hoped that by the end of the summer he’d be able to convince Logan that it wasn’t so dangerous to put himself out there, and that love didn’t always have to end in tragedy.
Jake was beginning to realize something about Logan. Under his rough exterior, under the bitterness and resentment and anger, and under the kindness and loyalty that were buried beneath them, Logan was fragile and afraid. He had lived a life so separated from others, so void of normal relationships, that for him, trusting another person and having his happiness be dependent upon them was more frightening than any monster he might face.
Jake was determined to prove to Logan that he was worthy of that trust.
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 7,000
Summary- As Logan keeps a bedridden Jake company, the two boys learn more about each other and themselves.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
The first thing Jake saw when he woke was Logan. The older boy had fallen asleep in his chair by Jake’s bed and was leaning dangerously to the side, almost ready to fall. Jake lifted a hand to rub his eyes, but a twinge of pain reminded him that his right hand was injured. He looked at the bandages over his palm, and saw that they were wrinkled from the movement. Then he lifted his left hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
It had been midmorning before Ross deemed it safe for Jake to fall asleep. From the look of the sky outside the window, it was late afternoon or early evening now. Jake groaned and stretched his arms out in front of him, wincing when his shoulders and ribs complained. In the chair beside him, Logan moaned and shifted at the noise. He almost fell but managed to catch himself, his eyes flying open as he jolted himself awake.
“Morning,” Jake said with a groggy smile. “Or I guess it’s evening now.”
Logan groaned in answer, adjusting his position on the chair and stretching. He touched the bruise on his neck tenderly. It had turned black and purple, just as Jake had known it would. The shape of the ghost’s hand was distinctly visible in the dark bruising, the thumb under the right side of Logan’s jaw, the palm over the front of his throat, and the four fingers on the left side. The front and left sides of his neck were the worst: from his jaw to his collarbone, the skin was entirely black and purple with bruising. “Your neck looks awful,” Jake told him.
“Yeah, well, let’s see how your side looks,” Logan grumbled, his voice thick from sleep. Jake pushed back the covers and looked down at the bandages. On his left, where the table had hit, he could see purple edges of bruising above and below the bandages. On his right side, the side that had been slammed against the cabinet, his shoulder and hip were bruised. “You don’t look so good either,” Logan observed. Jake grimaced and pulled the sheet back up.
A sharp knock on the door made them both jump, and without waiting for an invitation Holly opened it and came in. “Oh, good,” she said. “I thought I heard voices up here. How’re you boys feeling?”
“Sore,” Logan muttered. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, and Jake saw that there were bruises along his upper back too, probably from being thrown onto the table. “You got anything stronger than aspirin around?”
“We might have some better stuff,” Holly said thoughtfully. “I haven’t been around much lately, though, so I don’t know if it might have been used up.”
“How’s about getting me some breakfast?” Jake asked. “Or lunch, or whatever meal you’re serving now? I’m starved!”
“Aren’t you demanding! Didn’t you just eat before going to bed?” Holly asked.
“Hey, nearly dying is hungry work!” Jake grinned at her, and Holly laughed.
“You were never going to die!” Logan scoffed. “Now me, I almost died last night.” He said it like it was something to be proud of, and Jake laughed.
“Yeah, and I saved your ass, didn’t I?” Logan’s grin faded into a little smile, but unlike most of the smiles Jake had seen on Logan’s face this one wasn’t wry or sad. It seemed kind, almost tender.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you did.”
Pride flared in Jake’s chest at the admission, and he grinned. “Not some dumb kid playing at being a hunter anymore, am I?” Logan chuckled softly and shook his head.
“Y’know, you really know how to ruin a moment,” Logan said, though there was no reproach in his voice. “Just like a stupid kid.”
Holly’s soft laughter reminded them both of her presence, and they turned to look at her. “Alright, mighty hunter,” she said to Jake, gentle sarcasm in her tone. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up for you.” Holly gave Logan a smile and brushed her fingers over his shoulder as she turned to go. “Can I get you anything?” she asked him.
“Whatever you bring for Jake is fine,” Logan said. Holly nodded and left the two of them alone.
“So,” Jake sighed, “what’re we going to do now?”
“Well, you certainly can’t travel in this condition, at least not for another twenty-four hours,” Logan asserted. “And I’m not really in good shape for traveling either. We’ll see how we’re feeling tomorrow, I guess, and then maybe we’ll set out again.” Logan grimaced as though the thought of staying in bed galled him. Jake covered a smile. He could see Logan being an incredibly bad patient, always pushing himself too far and delaying his recovery.
“I don’t like wasting time, though,” Logan said, Jake’s smile fell at his grim tone. “Not when my dad might be…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, unable to put his fears to words.
“Yeah,” Jake murmured softly, feeling guilty for thinking Logan’s eagerness to get back on the road was for restlessness rather than worry. Despite that, he couldn’t help but notice that Logan hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of him leaving Jake behind, despite the fact that with his injuries even Jake would admit that he was now more of a liability than an asset. It seemed he had managed to prove himself to Logan, not only as a hunter in general but as a part of this hunt in particular. Logan wasn’t going to cut him out of it now; he knew that Jake had risked too much to not see it through.
And, Jake realized with a start, this was the first time during their entire trip that he had left the car without the keys firmly in his own pocket. It had been within Logan’s power to leave him at the Roadhouse and go at any time, and he hadn’t. Jake looked at the older teen, studying his face. He had been vulnerable to Logan, and Logan had not let him down. In addition to Jake proving that Logan could trust him, Logan had also proven himself trustworthy. They had each tested the other and found him to be dependable, and now they could start to become closer friends. Jake smiled at the thought.
Logan still appeared bogged down in thoughts of his father, his expression serious and closed off. Jake tried to help his mood by changing the subject. “So, where in Montana are we going again?”
Logan looked up, his silent contemplation interrupted. “Blue Ridge,” he answered after a moment’s pause. He passed Jake the map he’d borrowed from Ross to look over the previous night. “It’s about a five-day drive, if we start early and stop late. Think you’ll be up to it by tomorrow?”
“I dunno,” Jake admitted. “I guess I could if you’ll drive all day the first few. Maybe by the time we get there I’ll be feeling well enough to do some driving too.”
“I can handle the driving,” Logan assured him. “I’ve done plenty of that. I wanna know if five days’ll be enough time for you to recover enough to help me with the vampires. Or will you need to rest more?”
Jake grimaced as he thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said solemnly. “Last night was pretty rough; I don’t know if I’ll ever be up for a repeat of that.”
“We went in without weapons,” Logan pointed out. “We’ll be ready when we face the vampires.”
“How? You said yourself that the only way to kill them is by cutting off their heads. I don’t really want to get that close to something that can kill me. And you still haven’t told me what you’re planning on doing with the blood.” Jake looked to the nightstand where the syringe of blood had been when he had fallen asleep. It wasn’t there.
He turned back to Logan, alarmed. “Where’s the blood?”
Logan held up a little plastic bottle filled with a brown liquid. “Ross gave me this to put it in last night. Or this morning, whatever.” Logan swirled the bottle and watched the thick blood slosh slowly against its walls. “What we’re going to do,” he explained, “is dip crossbow bolts in it and fire those as the bastards. We should be able to take out a few from a distance that way. The rest will probably rush us, so we’ll dip our knives and machetes in it too. Hopefully it’ll work quickly enough to drop them as soon as we cut them. Then while they’re down we can cut off their heads without worrying about them attacking us.”
“How many do you think there will be?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know,” Logan sighed. “I’ve never hunted vampires before. People used to say that a guy called Elkins had hunted them into extinction. Then he was found dead, and word is that vampires did it and the Winchesters hunted and killed them. But it seems like that was the last of them. Other than that, I’ve never heard of them being hunted during my lifetime. But,” Logan said with a sigh, “they can hole up for years, centuries even, feeding on animals, so who knows how many might still be out there.”
“The vampires?” Holly asked as she pushed open the door, a tray of food in her hands. On it were a pot of tomato soup, a plate of half sandwiches, a bowl of potato chips, and two cans of soda. Holly set the tray on the nightstand and began doling out food. “I still say it’s stupid to go after them,” she said as she removed two bowls from beneath the one holding the chips and began ladling soup into them. Jake stared at the bowl of red liquid that was thrust into his hands. Between the dead man’s blood and his own bleeding injuries, he didn’t really want to eat the blood-colored soup. On the other hand, from what he knew of hunters he figured that refusing it might be hazardous to his health.
“If you’re so worried,” Logan said as he lifted his own bowl to his mouth, ignoring the proffered spoon, “why don’t you tag along and keep an eye on us?” Holly frowned and leaned against the side of the bed.
“I was just planning on stopping here for the night,” she said. “I’ve got a hunt in Evansville, Indiana that I need to get to. Otherwise, I would go with you. Hunting things that go in packs, you need as many pairs of eyes and hands as you can get. I’d almost say ask my dad, except he’s too old and would probably get himself killed if he tried.” She rolled her eyes as she said the last, and then shook her head at Logan. “Just two people… I don’t think it’s smart. I don’t know what Luke was thinking going by himself.”
Holly sighed and straightened up. “Well, all I really wanted to do was say goodbye to you before I left. If it hadn’t been for you going and getting hurt, and then asking me for food, I’d have been out of here at dawn today. I’ve wasted too much time already. I need to get back on my hunt. I’ll see you, Logan.” She gave him a carefully hug, trying not to press too hard on his bruised back and neck. The she turned to Jake.
“See you, kid, if you manage to survive this first hunt. I don’t envy you; even experienced hunters wouldn’t want to go after these things, and definitely not people on their first time out.” Her expression was serious as she gazed at him, then her face broke into a smile. “But you’re off to a good start, aside from the injuries. You saved Logan’s life, which is saying something.” She gave Logan a look as she said it, and he rolled his eyes at her. “So I’m guessing I’ll see you again, or at least hear about you. Good luck.” She patted his foot through the covers, just about the only part of Jake’s body that could be touched without hurting. Then Holly nodded to both of them and turned and left.
Jake stared at the door for a moment after she’d left, then he turned to Logan with a grin. “See? She thinks I’m doing pretty well.” Logan snorted.
“Nah. She’s just being nice to you ‘cause she thinks you’re going to die soon.”
“Hey!” Jake laughed. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Logan, who yelped as the pillow hit his soup bowl and sloshed it out over his chest. Logan looked down at the red liquid dripping down his skin and onto his pants, then glared up at Jake. There was a playful glint in his eyes, however, and he set his soup bowl aside and picked up the pillow again. Jake hurriedly put his bowl next to Logan’s before the pillow struck him on the arm. “Hey! Logan! Quit it, I’m unarmed!”
Jake snatched up another pillow from the bed and swung it at Logan, both of them laughing and ignoring the pain in their half-healed injuries.
The pillow fight lasted a short time before a blow from Logan hit Jake in the side of the head and made him see spots again. Logan checked the scabbed-over gash on Jake’s scalp and assured him he wasn’t bleeding again, and the two of them settled down to their meal. Logan drank Jake’s tomato soup for him, now that Holly wasn’t around to see him turn it down, and Jake ate the roast beef sandwiches, which Logan didn’t like, while Logan ate the grilled cheese ones. When they’d both finished eating, Logan took the tray and empty plates down to the bar’s kitchen to be washed.
Logan returned with a bottle of ibuprofen and two glasses of water, and they both took some pills for the pain. “Are you sure your head doesn’t hurt too bad?” Logan asked as he set his glass down, his expression half way between sheepish and concerned.
“It’s fine,” Jake assured him. “I was more worried about my stomach: when you hit me, I felt sick. But I’m fine now. Or, you know, as close to fine as I can be.” Jake motioned to his side, and Logan nodded sympathetically.
“Do you want me to change the bandages on it?” Logan offered. Jake considered it for a moment, then nodded. Logan hauled out the medical supplies again, spreading them out on the bed beside Jake. He carefully removed the bandages from Jake’s side. The bloody gash where he’d been struck by the sharp edge of the table had been taped together with Band-Aids, not deemed deep enough for stitches, but the bandages that had been over it were still stained with blood. He had two broken ribs and a massive bruise over his left side. It was fortunate, Ross had said, that his arm had been clear of the table, or it would have been shattered by the impact.
Logan wrapped the bandages tightly, which hurt the bruises but was good for the ribs, so Jake tried not to complain. When his side was bandaged, Logan turned his attention to Jake’s hand. This, too, had not been stitched. Logan turned Jake’s hand gently in his as he assessed the damage. “It’s shallow,” Logan said. “You’re lucky, I think. With hands, there are so many muscles and tendons just under the skin, and if they’re damaged you can lose the use of your fingers or even the entire hand. But I think it’s just a skin-deep cut. It’s a good thing you weren’t holding the knife more tightly.” Jake nodded wordlessly, even more disturbed by the knowledge that the events of the previous night could have very easily crippled his dominant hand.
Logan decided that the cut was shallow enough to not warrant actual bandages, and he dabbed it gently with antibiotic ointment and taped a square of gauze on it. Jake watched in fascination as Logan worked. He had learned some field medicine at Blackwood Creek, but Logan’s movements, swift and sure, but gentle enough to not cause any undue pain, spoke of a great deal of experience treating wounds. Logan’s hands, Jake noted, were rough and calloused. His fingers were long and looked delicate, but Jake knew that they were strong and skilled in all of the tasks of a hunter. He had seen first-hand how well Logan could shoot, clean a gun, or handle a pool stick.
When Logan finished with Jake’s hand, he put an ointment for bruises over Jake’s left side and his right hip and shoulder. Jake gulped and bit his lip to keep from giggling when Logan touched his side, which was very ticklish even with the bruising. When Logan was done he wiped the excess ointment on his pants and started to put everything away.
Logan hadn’t put his shirt back on after taking it off the previous night to treat the cut on his chest, and Jake could clearly see the bruises on Logan’s upper back. “Do you want me to put some ointment on your neck or back?” Jake asked him almost shyly.
Logan seemed to be thinking it over for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said. Logan sat on the bed next to Jake and passed him the tube of ointment. Jake squeezed some of it onto his fingertips and gently dabbed it on Logan’s neck. He knew that the bruises must be very painful and he didn’t want to press too hard.
“Turn,” Jake whispered when he had gotten all of the bruise that he could see from that angle. Logan turned around, pulling his legs onto the bed next to Jake’s, so that Jake could reach the right side of his neck. Jake finished with the bruise on Logan’s neck and the other teen turned away so Jake could get his back. There were light bruises on his shoulders and upper back, and Jake could see more on the top of his ass above the waistband of his jeans, but he wasn’t about to put any ointment there.
As he worked, Jake took a moment to admire Logan’s body. He could clearly see the scars along Logan’s back now. There were three of them, one on his right shoulder, white and flat; one diagonal across his lower back, raised and flesh-colored; and one nearly straight up and down from the bottom of his left shoulder blade to the side of his spine midway down his back, red and ropey. Logan’s skin was tanned and Jake suspected that when he wasn’t around other people and had no reason to feel insecure about his scars Logan spent a lot of time with his shirt off. There was a light dusting of freckles over his shoulders and down his upper arms, visible on the skin that wasn’t bruised. Aside from the scars, the skin on Logan’s back was soft and smooth, and warm under Jake’s fingers. He found that he liked touching Logan, though he tried not to think too deeply into that.
When he finished applying the ointment, Jake passed the tube back. Logan stood and picked up the shirt he’d discarded the previous night. He shrugged it on, and as Jake watched the skin of Logan’s stomach disappear beneath the fabric he found he was oddly disappointed.
“I’m going to put this stuff away,” Logan announced as he collected the medical supplies. “Can I bring you anything?”
Jake sighed as he considered the invitation. He was tempted to say “a TV” or “Holly’s laptop” but he knew both were probably impossible. He was getting bored lying in bed, but he knew better than to try moving around any more than was necessary. “Could you bring my duffle bag from the car?” Jake asked, and Logan nodded.
A few minutes later Logan returned with the duffle and set it on the bed next to Jake. Jake glanced over at him, wondering if Logan intended to stay by his side all day. “You don’t need to babysit me, you know,” Jake said as he rummaged through his bag.
“Well, I wanted to spend time with you,” Logan said in an injured tone. “But if I’m not wanted, I’ll just leave.”
“You can stay,” Jake said quickly. “I don’t mind you being here. I just meant, if you don’t want to stay with me, I’ll be alright on my own.”
“I want to stay,” Logan insisted, and Jake nodded in response. He turned away from Logan and slowly pulled a leather-bound book from the bag, his hunting journal that his father had given him when he first sent Jake off to Blackwood Creek. He had hoped that he might get some privacy to write in it, for he used it to record many personal thoughts that he wasn’t entirely sure he felt comfortable sharing with Logan. And he had a lot to write about, because he hadn’t had the opportunity since the evening he and Logan had snuck away from camp.
“What’s that?” Logan asked as Jake started writing.
“My hunting journal,” Jake explained shortly, not wanting to share much about the private book.
Logan leaned closer, trying to read what Jake was writing. He seemed simply curious, and although Jake didn’t think Logan was trying to find secrets he could taunt Jake with, he still moved the book to his other side where Logan couldn’t see. “But you’ve never been hunting,” Logan stated plainly. His voice held no malice but his words made Jake cringe all the same.
“My dad gave it to me my first summer of camp,” Jake replied. “He said to record everything I learned, so that I’d have it all in one place during a real hunt.” Logan nodded thoughtfully.
“My dad had a journal like that,” Logan said. “I don’t. My dad always said he’d get me one when I was ready to start hunting on my own. But here I am without him, and I don’t have a journal to write in.” Logan shrugged. Jake wondered if it bothered Logan that he had a journal while Logan didn’t. It certainly seemed that a hunting journal, like a first hunt, was something of a coming of age gift for hunters’ children. He wondered if Logan felt cheated that Jake, who had never been hunting, had had a journal for so long, while Logan, who had assisted in hunts from a young age, had none.
“Have you been going to camp for long?” Logan asked innocently. “It’s almost halfway full.” He pointed to the pages of the journal, which were indeed nearly half filled.
“This was my tenth year,” Jake admitted with a smile. “But it’s not all stuff I learned at camp. Some of it is just stuff that happened during camp, friends I made and games I played, things like that. And a lot of it is just this sort of thing.” Jake flipped back to an entry from when he’d been nine years old, a page dated during the school year, with “I want to go back to camp!” written across the top in a child’s untidy scrawl, and nothing more.
Logan laughed softly as he looked down at the page. “You really loved Blackwood Creek, didn’t you?”
“It was every child’s dream,” Jake said fondly, a wistful smile on his face as he thought back to those childhood memories. “Going to summer camp to train to fight evil monsters? It’s like something out of a storybook. Any kid would love that.” Jake smiled to himself as he recalled the many happy days he’d had at camp when he was younger. Then his smile faded as he thought of the later days, and how things had changed as the years passed.
“The older I got,” Jake continued, his voice growing softer, “the more serious I was about it. Until it wasn’t just a game to play during the summer. It was more like training to go to war. I started to understand that for hunters, and for the people they protect, it’s a matter of life and death. I felt like I had a calling, a responsibility, because my eyes had been opened to the danger that’s out there. I started to see myself as being different from other people, because of what I knew. It was still…” Jake trailed off and laughed sadly.
“It was still like a storybook, but like one for an older kid. I had been picked; I had been set aside and separated from the others. I had been trained and now I had a responsibility to use my training to protect other people, even if it meant I would know things they never would, and that they’d never be able to understand me because they wouldn’t know what I knew. It was kind of lonely to think about, but it also made me feel… I don’t know, special, I guess. And it would be a life full of excitement and danger. Not boredom and normality and pointlessness. I wanted the hunter’s life.”
“I… I started to think that the kids I went to school with were different from me, because they had an essentially different view of the world from what I did, and that I just couldn’t connect with them. I felt that people I knew from camp were my only real friends. And I started to believe that the life I led during the school year was a lie.”
Logan frowned as Jake spoke. When Jake came to the end of the story, he shook his head slowly. “We’re opposites, I guess.” Logan stared at the bedspread as he spoke, not meeting Jake’s eyes. His soft voice was filled with emotion. “Me, my dad was a hunter and my mom was a civilian, a nurse. He tried to settle down with her and leave the hunter’s ways behind. She died in a car crash when I was a baby, and I guess he just gave up on a normal life after that. He started traveling and hunting again, and took me with him. I grew up thinking the hunting life was totally normal, that other families were exactly the same way. When I got older, I started to understand that I was different from other kids. They didn’t know how to fire a shotgun; they didn’t have to memorize Latin exorcisms. They had both parents and a house to go home to every night and they stayed at the same school for more than a few days at a time.”
“The more I understood, the more I resented it. There were a lot of times that I wished my father had given me over to a relative, or just put me up for adoption after my mom died. So I could be normal. That was when I was in middle school. We fought a lot then, my dad and I. I threatened to run away a couple times. Tried it once or twice. He always found me.”
“As I got older, I realized that by the time I understood enough to resent the life I had, I had already taken in enough of the lifestyle that I was too far gone to try to be normal. There was nothing else I knew how to be, and I was too set in my ways to learn something new. I could never be anything besides a hunter. Once I accepted that, I started to understand my dad a little better. He loved my mom, really loved her, enough to try to change ways that were so engrained they’d almost become a part of his being. It tore him up when she died; he was never the same man as before he met her. He brought me with him because he didn’t want to be alone, and because I was all he had left of her. I guess I can’t blame him for that.”
“After I accepted that I was a hunter, and started to understand what my father had felt when my mother died, we became a lot closer. He’s all I have, really, all I’ve ever had, and even though I’m eighteen now and I know how to take care of myself, I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”
Logan fell silent and Jake stared back at him in wonder, struggling to comprehend the life Logan must have led. As Logan had said, they were opposites in a way. They had both led a life that they hated, and they both saw the other’s life as being ideal. Jake recalled the first time he’d spoken to Logan, how he had casually mentioned his civilian life and how he hated it, before eagerly asking Logan for details of his life as a hunter. He could only imagine how it must have felt for Logan to hear that Jake had lived his dream life, but scorned all of it and wanted the life that Logan had led.
“My dad,” Jake murmured, looking away from Logan. “My dad was also a hunter who tried to settle down with a civilian. He kept hunting after he got married, though. One time, he was hunting a shapeshifter and it took his appearance and came to the house where my mom and I were. I was really little at the time, so I don’t remember, but it nearly killed us both. After that my dad decided we were safer without him. He taught my mom a few basic things to help her keep us safe, and then he left us and went off hunting again. He wanted me to go to Blackwood Creek so I could learn how to defend myself.”
Logan nodded. “It’s all about the mothers,” he said softly. “Maybe if my mother had lived, I’d have had your life.”
“And if the shapeshifter had killed mine, I would’ve had yours,” Jake agreed. Both were silent for a long time, contemplating their respective lives and how they might have gone differently. At length Jake murmured, “I’m sorry,” and Logan looked up at him with a surprised expression.
“For what?”
Jake shrugged awkwardly. “For saying those things when we first met. I talked about my life like I hated it, and I made it pretty clear that I wanted your life. But to you having a mother and living in one place and going to the same school must sound like a dream come true.”
Logan stared off past Jake, his eyes glassy. “’I guess you don’t know what that feels like,’” he murmured, then turned his eyes to Jake. “That’s what you said. ‘I guess you don’t know what that feels like, being stuck in a civilian life.’ I had wished for so long that I could have a civilian life, and I’d finally given up on it. It felt… I don’t know, like you were mocking me, or something. I knew you didn’t understand how I felt, but I was still angry. It made me want to hurt you, so I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. I’m sorry too.”
“What, you, apologizing?” Jake asked with a forced smile, and Logan managed a grin in return.
“Yup. Doesn’t happen very often, so enjoy it while you can.” Jake laughed, a genuine laugh, and picked up his journal to start writing in it. Logan let him, allowing the conversation to die, but the silence between them wasn’t an awkward one.
After Jake finished writing about all that had happened since his last entry, the two boys talked late into the evening. Jake lay in the little bed and Logan sat in his chair, and they talked for hours on end, just getting to know one another. They exchanged details about their lives, from the various schools they had gone to and sports they had played to the different parts of the country they’d seen.
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” Logan asked Jake.
Jake shook his head. “Not really. I dated a few girls for a while, but I was never very serious with them. I never really cared about any of them; it was kind of just to not be single, if that makes sense.” Jake felt silent, and he toyed with the hem of the quilt as he wondered how much he dared to say. How much Logan would let him say. “I used to think I never connected with any of them because they didn’t know about hunting; their views of the world were just too different from mine. But lately I’ve started to wonder if it was less that and more… the fact that they were girls.”
Logan nodded thoughtfully, but offered no advice or comments. Jake could see he’d have to ask a question outright to get Logan to say anything. “What about you?” he asked. “Any serious relationships?”
Logan shook his head. “I’ve hooked up with a couple people, hunters’ kids I’ve run into and civilians, but I’ve never been in a serious relationship.”
“How many of them were guys?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow.
Logan smiled wryly. “A few.”
“How did you know that you’re bi?” Jake pressed. Logan looked up at him and frowned.
“I already told you, I’m not helping you figure out if you like guys. I don’t want to get mixed up in that.”
“What about you?” Jake challenged. He knew they were going into dangerous territory now, but he wouldn’t be the first one to back down. “Were you always totally sure of what you wanted, even the first time you hooked up with a guy?”
Logan’s jaw clenched as he considered how to answer the question. “Doesn’t matter,” he ground out finally. “I know what I want now, and it definitely doesn’t include getting mixed up with a confused teenager who’s just going to use me to satisfy his own curiosity and then probably want to forget any of it ever happened. There are other guys who are more than willing to show you the ropes, no matter how long you plan on staying with them.” Logan’s eyes flashed and he glared disdainfully down at Jake. “I have no responsibility to you. Come back when you’ve figured out what, and who, you want.”
“I think I’m starting to,” Jake replied. Logan raised his chin and stared back, a challenge in his eyes. “Come here,” Jake demanded.
Logan rose from his chair and stepped towards the bed. Jake beckoned him closer, and Logan placed a hand beside Jake’s head on mattress and leaned down until there was barely an inch of space between their faces. The anger was gone from Logan’s eyes now and he looked almost scared. Jake could understand that. He was scared too. But he knew what he wanted now, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what it said about him, or how things would end up.
“I want you,” Jake whispered, and lifted his head from the pillow just enough to allow their lips to meet. It was soft and tender, almost uncharacteristically so, considering how violently their personalities sometimes clashed. Logan took the initiative, caressing Jake’s lips with his tongue, asking for entrance. Jake granted it, allowing Logan to control the kiss without putting up any struggle. Jake’s good hand rose to card through Logan’s soft, short hair, and Logan lifted his other hand to cup the side of Jake’s face. Their tongues twined together leisurely, not battling for dominance but simply reveling in the touch of the other. Soon, though, the need to breathe became too great, and they broke apart.
The moment they separated, Logan pulled back from Jake and turned away, the back of one hand over his mouth. He took a step away from the bed as though he wanted to flee the room, but stopped, hesitating. Jake could see the tension in his muscles and the rigidity of his posture; he was ready to run but unable to make the decision. “What’s wrong?” Jake murmured softly, afraid that he might scare Logan off.
Logan didn’t answer for a long time, and Jake began to worry that something bad had happened without his noticing. Finally Logan whispered, so quietly Jake barely heard, “I could fall in love with you.”
Jake almost laughed in relief. “And I might already be in love with you. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s going to happen when the summer ends?” Logan asked. The tightness of his muscles had lessened but he remained facing away from Jake. “Will we ever see each other again?”
“If we want to, then we will,” Jake replied stubbornly. “Besides, why worry about that now? Can’t you just live in the moment and be happy?”
Logan turned back to Jake, a twisted, sad smile on his face. “I can do the whole living-in-the-moment thing,” he said almost bitterly. “But not when I’m serious about someone. Not when I’m in love. I don’t want to put my heart out there and have it crushed.”
Jake shook his head emphatically. “Look at my dad, Logan. Look at yours. There are no assurances in this life, especially not for hunters. Logan, I could die on this hunt. You could die on it! Shouldn’t you try to be happy while you can?”
Logan hung his head sadly, and when he spoke it was in a defeated tone. “Not if it means that it hurts more when it’s over. I am looking at my dad, Jake. He fell apart after my mom died. I may have only been a baby when it happened, but I lived with the effects of it my whole life. I saw how much it hurt him. He never fully recovered. I don’t want that to happen to me.”
Jake pulled himself up to a sitting position and reached out to take Logan’s hand. He was a little surprised when the other teen didn’t simply snatch his hand away, and he took it as a good sign. “Logan, you’ll never be happy if you’re always worrying like that. You’ll never even give yourself the chance.”
Logan shook his head, not looking at Jake. He didn’t so much pull his hand from Jake’s as let it fall, and Jake could tell from that movement just how hopeless Logan considered his situation to be. He saw he would get no more out of Logan, at least not tonight, but he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end. Jake changed the subject. “What about Holly? Seems like you two used to be pretty serious.”
Logan laughed softly, but Jake could tell that the bitterness was starting to fade. “Holly’s one of the living-in-the-moment things. She’s a good friend. She’s my…” He broke off and smiled tiredly at Jake. “Well, until I met you I’d have said she’s my best friend. We both knew when things started out that neither of us was in love with the other. We both knew that however the sexual part of our relationship ended, we’d be certain to keep our friendship strong. It’s a lot like you and Rae, I think.”
Jake’s jaw dropped at that. His mind scrambled for the right words to express just how wrong the statement was. “Wh-what?” was the best he could manage. “You think Rae and I…? No way!”
“Really?” Logan looked genuinely surprised. “I thought for sure you were. You seemed so jealous when she was spending time with me.”
Jake crossed his arms and looked away, a blush rising in his cheeks. He mumbled under his breath something about not knowing whom he was jealous of. One of Logan’s eyebrows arched up. “Oh, so you were jealous of her, then, huh? Seems like you’ve always known pretty well what you wanted; you just weren’t ready to admit it.” His tone was back to gentle teasing again. If Jake was surprised by the complete one-eighty of Logan’s mood, he didn’t comment. He was just glad that Logan seemed to be happy now.
“I’ve never felt this way about any guy but you,” Jake admitted solemnly. “Really, I’ve never felt this way about anyone, boy or girl.”
Logan looked at Jake thoughtfully, and Jake couldn’t read in his expression what was going through his mind. Then Logan leaned over and pressed his lips lightly against Jake’s. Jake was surprised, but not unhappy, and he kept still as Logan kissed him. He was afraid of doing something to make Logan run again.
“Maybe I can give this living-in-the-moment thing a chance, at least for now,” Logan murmured against Jake’s lips when the kiss ended. “I’m not totally in love with you yet.”
Jake laughed and kissed back. It made him sad, though, to think that Logan was going into this relationship expecting it to end, and end badly. But he would leave the argument alone for now, he decided, because he didn’t want to scare Logan away by pushing it. He just hoped that by the end of the summer he’d be able to convince Logan that it wasn’t so dangerous to put himself out there, and that love didn’t always have to end in tragedy.
Jake was beginning to realize something about Logan. Under his rough exterior, under the bitterness and resentment and anger, and under the kindness and loyalty that were buried beneath them, Logan was fragile and afraid. He had lived a life so separated from others, so void of normal relationships, that for him, trusting another person and having his happiness be dependent upon them was more frightening than any monster he might face.
Jake was determined to prove to Logan that he was worthy of that trust.
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