The In Between - 2. Outed

02 ~Outed~

Jordan left earlier than normal to go pick Brandon up for school. He wasn't thrilled at the prospect of having to explain the situation behind his bruises to Brandon, but it wouldn't be fair to ditch him. Brandon had become so used to Jordan picking him up that he wouldn't even try to catch the school bus. Then he would have to walk to school--like he had been doing the first time Jordan had approached him. Jordan smiled at the memory, although it hurt his lips. Brandon had looked so completely dumbfounded when Jordan had pulled up next to him, and Jordan knew that he had caught him completely off guard.

Jordan had the feeling he was about to do the same as he approached the door and knocked, waiting for a few minutes before the lock clicked and Brandon opened the door.

"Hey, you're-" Brandon's greeting died the minute he saw him. His face darkened as he motioned Jordan inside. "What the hell?"

"I got in a fight," Jordan said as Brandon shut the door behind him.

"Did Keith show up again? I swear to God, I'm gonna-"

"No. No, it wasn't him. Listen, do you have an extra uniform I can borrow or something?"

"Yeah, yeah… c'mon."

Brandon and Jordan were the same height, but Jordan was a little wider than Brandon, so the uniform was tight on him, but not unmanageably so. He just wouldn't be able to breathe or sit comfortably. But between his throbbing bruises and the highly likely possibility that the entire school would know about the relationship between Brandon and himself by the time the last bell rang, Jordan decided that being comfortable just wasn't going to be one of the defining attributes of his day.

"So who was it that hurt you?" Brandon asked as Jordan worked on his tie.

"Dylan."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Brandon's voice conveyed nothing but genuine confusion and concern.

"Well, he didn't like the fact that I was found locking lips with another guy and things just kind of escalated from there. I said something out of line and he socked me and so I socked him back. And then he decided to really let me have it, so-" Jordan shrugged as he slid the knot into place. "It's not as bad as it looks," he lied.

"I can get Andrew to go to his office and break his kneecaps if you want me to," Brandon offered.

"No, it's all right," Jordan said and turned to leave, but Brandon took his hand gently.

"No, it's not 'all right'," Brandon said softly. "I'm letting it go because he's your family, but if anyone else touched you like that, put bruises on your body, I would break their fingers. I hate to say this, but your brother is a shit." Brandon let go of his hand and lifted his to gently touch Jordan's face, letting his finger carefully skate over bruised flesh. Then he leaned forward and gently kissed the sore, swollen lip that Jordan was sporting. "Are you ready?"

Jordan's head was spinning and his chest was aching and he told himself it was just due to the medicine he had taken beforehand. "Yeah."

They had reached an agreement during the drive to deny nothing, so when they walked up to the school and Brandon slipped his hand into Jordan's, he didn't protest. The few whispers that had reached Brandon's ears erupted into a full buzz of conversation as they walked through the hallway, hand in hand. People were staring openly, some looking disgusted, others were smiling, and Brandon felt that it was only Jordan's warm presence next to him that kept him grounded in the inhospitable land of high school.

They parted hands and went their separate ways shortly afterwards, Brandon heading to his locker to get his books before class. He found his first surprise of the day... a rainbow flag sticker stuck on his locker with a heart drawn in a silver Sharpie around it.

Other strange things started happening. Some were weird in a good way, like a girl in his Physics class offering to switch seats with him so he and Jordan could sit together. Other things, like the whispers that would cease as soon as he entered the room and the curious eyes that would follow him, were not. It reminded him too much of how people regarded him after Leia died, and Brandon really didn't like being the center of too much attention anyway. He heard a couple of names thrown his way, mostly by males... faggot and queer being the least offensive. There also a few thinly veiled threats thrown his way that were more welcome than the fawning admiration he got from some of the females. He didn't see how being gay made you more attractive to the female population, but apparently some people felt that way.

Lunch greeted him with a tearful, apologetic Alexis and a highly amused Andrew who jokingly asked him how he liked his new "affliction".

"Must be horrible," Andrew mused, his chin propped up in his hand, "to have girls drawn to you like flies to honey for the sole reason that you aren't interested in what they have to offer."

"They want a video of me and my boyfriend making out so they can put it on YouTube," Brandon said. Someone had actually asked him.

"Speaking of which, what happened to your boytoy? I saw him in class earlier; looks like someone used his face for a punching bag. He didn't get gaybashed or anything, did he?"

"No. He got in a fight."

"You don't say," Andrew said, giving him a wide eyed look with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "With who?"

Brandon just shrugged. He didn't want to lie, but he was damn sure that Jordan didn't want the whole world to be privy to his family affairs, so he kept quiet. He was looking for Jordan in the crowded cafeteria, thinking about seeing if he wanted to go outside and eat lunch together. Alexis and Andrew would understand. But he didn't see Jordan at all, not even hanging out with his usual crowd. He pulled out his cell phone and typed a text message.

whr r u?

A few moments later there was a reply.

I had to run some errands. Be back soon

imu.

Miss you too.

Jordan sat in his hotel room after school, trying to catch up on the homework he had not even finished the previous night. He had skipped lunch and part of his afternoon classes to stop by the house. He had picked up his school uniform and several changes of clothes, his schoolbooks and his laptop while he knew his brother would be at the office. There was no note, nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary had happened. It had been depressing to go back to the hotel, but he felt better having some of his things from home there with him.

He was in the middle of his French homework when his phone buzzed. He flipped it open and put it to his ear before he even checked the number. "Hello?"

"Hey there, sexy."

Jordan smiled at hearing Brandon's voice. "Hey, what's up?"

"Not much. How was your day? I didn't see much of you."

"Pretty uneventful."

"How did your friends take the news?"

"It was kinda funny," Jordan said. "They didn't care I was seeing another guy. They said it was a hip thing to do and they liked having a gay person in their group because it helped promote diversity. They just wanted me to be dating someone in their social circle. They even offered to set me up with some other 'more acceptable' guys. I told them no, of course."

"Of course," Brandon said with a haughty tone. "So... are you at home?"

"No."

"Do you need a place to stay? My house is always open for my friends."

Jordan smiled at the offer. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm at the Holiday Inn."

"Do you want to come over? The house is empty."

Jordan didn't miss the blatant invitation in those words, but he felt his conscience pull at him as he studied the textbooks spread out around him. "I would like to, really, but I have some things I need to take care of right now. I'm sorry."

"Can I come over to where you are staying? Please? I won't get in the way or distract you or anything."

Jordan frowned at the pleading note in his voice. "Yeah, that's fine. Let me come and pick you up-"

"No, you just stay there. Just tell me what room you are in and I'll be there in a little while."

"Um... three nineteen."

"'Kay. Thanks."

Jordan gave the phone a puzzled look as he hung up.

Brandon arrived soon after, a large bag from Arby's in tow. Jordan gave him a grateful smile as he took one of the sandwiches. He could have gone down to the restaurant on the first level, but it looked expensive.

Brandon was true to his word, sitting at the desk and finishing his own homework then getting his sketchpad out and drawing a sketch of Jordan while he did his homework. Then he drew the room where Leia had always resided. He finally drew several bottles of alcohol, focusing on the labels. Absolut vodka. Bacardi Silver rum. Patron Tequila. Chartreuse.

God, he wanted a drink. Just one drink. He closed his sketchbook with a sigh, wishing Jordan would come over and make the offer. But he knew he wouldn't.

"Why did you want to come over here?" Jordan asked, shutting his math textbook with relief after solving the last problem. "I wasn't the most thrilling company."

"I didn't want to stay at the house by myself," Brandon said. He started to pull at his cuticles nervously. "I was worried that I would start to drink. My parents said that they cleared the house out, but I know all their hiding places. And I still have some up in my room." Brandon looked down at his hands. "I can't stop thinking of Leia. That place, that room. I dream of it, after I've been drinking. I realized that today, the pattern. If I drink then fall asleep, I find myself in that place."

"When did this start happening?"

"After the funeral. When I got drunk and made that move on you was the first time. I fell asleep on my bed and woke up in that room. She appeared and started to play that song, the same one in the video."

"Did she say anything to you?"

"She-" Brandon swallowed and his voice hitched. "She asked me why I let her die."

"Anything else?" Jordan's voice was soft but firm.

"Um... that she was in the in between. That's what she called the place, and then later on she asked me why I stopped looking for her. I thought it was just my subconscious giving me a way to talk to her because I miss her so much. But... But I was thinking that if Leia was still alive, like you think she is, I think that room is where she is. Like, not all of the time. She said..." Brandon closed his eyes and tried to think. "'I can get no closer to where I used to be.'"

"What do you think she meant by that?"

Brandon shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think she was trying to tell me that she could get to that place, but no further. So if she is alive, then she's not here. I think that she might be someplace else, but that room is some kind of... like a go between point. She can get to it. And I can get to it. And now, if you have that game, anyone can get to it."

"But in that game, she's not there."

"No, she's not." Brandon looked down at his cuticles, which were bleeding. "If Leia is still alive, then who did we bury?"

"Someone else," Jordan said. "Something else."

"But-"

"Brandon, do you have the sketchpad you were using when you first met Keith with you?"

"Yeah."

"Let me see it."

Brandon rummaged in his pack for it. He had a bunch of Leia's portraits in there and wanted to make sure he didn't misplace it, which had been known to happen in the haphazard mess he called his room.

Jordan flipped through and turned it to a drawing that Brandon recognized. He had drawn it the day after he had met Keith at the party, a picture of a person tearing their skin off.

"Do you know what this is?" Jordan asked, tapping it with a finger.

"How did you know that was there?" Brandon asked.

"I looked through it while I was at your place. After Leia died." When Brandon glared at him, Jordan shrugged a little guiltily. "Sorry. It was open on your desk, so I looked through it a little. I'm sorry for invading your privacy, but you never showed me much of your work and I was curious about what kind of stuff I would be working with." Jordan gave Brandon another apologetic look and Brandon huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever, man." He wanted a drink. He was going crazy for a drink. He could already smell the scent of vodka, could imagine the feel of it sliding across his tongue, down his throat with a gentle burn. His fisted his hands, the blood from his mangled cuticles smearing against the palm.

"This, here, could be a shape shifter. Look at what it's doing, how it's tearing off its skin. A regular human couldn't do that. You just can't, your skin is too strong. But a shape shifter can."

"No!" Brandon exclaimed, horrified. "I wasn't trying to! That's disgusting."

"No, it's not. And they're not uncommon. Anything you hear lore and stories about are probably done by us. Vampires, werewolves, elves, etc. They exist somewhere. Maybe here, maybe not. But somewhere they exist. The belief in them is too strong to be otherwise. But anyone can create a shape shifter. And an Enabler, if they are strong enough, can bring it over here."

"So... so you're telling me that they brought this guy over?"

"No. Not that guy. He's ours. He can't come over unless we bring him over. Period. But shapeshifters are not hard to draw. Keith could draw his own shapeshifter just as easily. And bring his over."

"So... Leia... the one that they buried... was really a shape shifter?" Brandon asked.

"I'm not saying anything for certain. This is a hypothesis." Jordan closed the sketchbook. "Consider this. Consider that when they did an autopsy, Leia wasn't pregnant. But in that video, it was pretty obvious that she was. Think hard, Brandon. Whenever you dreamt of that place, did you notice Leia looking big? Not just fat in the belly, but maybe more voluptuous?"

"I don't know." Brandon felt weird for even thinking of his friend like that. "I wasn't looking at her body; I was looking at her face. And she was wearing a dress that was pretty loose. She might or might now have been, I don't remember."

"If a shape shifter had taken Leia's place here, then it wouldn't have been pregnant."

"Wouldn't it shift back to its original form once it was killed?" Brandon asked.

"No, I think it would stay in the form it had assumed once it was dead. It would need to be still... functioning to shift back."

"Is this the same one they brought over initially? The thing that attacked Leia?"

Jordan frowned. "I doubt it. This creature was incredibly simple. Primitive, like a wild animal. Shapeshifters are usually human or human-like and definitely more complex."

Brandon pressed his hands to his head. All this talk was making him confused. And he wanted a drink so bad he was about to go crazy from it. He didn't see why Elizabeth and Keith would go through all the trouble to bring a shapeshifter over if they were going to just kill it later, just to make everyone believe that Leia was dead. Why not just have her go missing?

"Does this room have a minibar?"

"No," Jordan said. He got up and led Brandon to the bathroom, then reached around him to turn on the faucet and guided Brandon's hands under the water. Blood dripped into the sink and slid down the drain. "You don't need it," he said softly into Brandon's ear. "You're stronger than it is, I know you are."

"I'm not."

"You are." Jordan reached around to turn off the faucet and wrapped a towel around Brandon's hand. "You're stronger than you think. I need you to be strong when I am weak. Because I'm going to need you to be." He could already feel the foundation upon which he had tried to build his new life shifting under his feet and knew it wouldn't be long before it would begin to crack and crumble. "Damn it, I'm going to need you to be. And I'll do the same for you."

Brandon rested his head up against Jordan's for a moment then unwrapped his hands, throwing the towels aside on the counter. He went back to the table and stared at the sketchpad. Saw the man tearing his skin off. It looked so painful.

"I didn't mean to draw this. I was just hurting."

"I know. Don't get the wrong idea, Brandon. We are Creators and Enablers, nothing more. We aren't Gods. We don't even pretend at it. Talent and creativity only take us so far. Even you can't draw something that isn't mean to be somehow."

"I'm not following you."

"Don't ever be afraid to draw something, Brandon, just because you are afraid to bring it into existence." Jordan approached him slowly. "Everything is preordained in some manner, whether by God or Fate or some other power. The point is you can never draw something that was never supposed to exist in the first place. That man tearing his skin off was meant to come into existence somewhere. You are a vessel for Creation, but you do not control it. Understand?"

"Yeah." Brandon linked his arms loosely around Jordan's waist. "This stuff is getting pretty heavy."

"I never told you this would be easy. Any of it."

"You didn't," Brandon agreed. That urge to drink was still there, but it was fading back a little, becoming a lingering peal of need in the back of his mind rather than the full fledged siren's call it had been earlier.

"So if what you think is true, if the monster that Keith brought over is the one that hurt Leia, then died and Leia is still alive...this connects all of us. And it means Leia's still roaming around somewhere. But where? And don't you wonder why she hasn't come back?"

"Because of the pregnancy?" Jordan asked. Brandon shook his head.

"No. Like I said earlier, everyone who mattered already knew. She did, her mother did, according to her, the 'father' did, too, even though 'he' denied it. No. I don't think the pregnancy is keeping her away. I'm wondering if Keith has her. If your theory is true, he went through a lot to make sure everyone thought she was dead. So no-one would look for her. I bet he has her locked in that stupid room somewhere."

"Why would he-" Jordan stopped himself before he even asked the question. Because his Creation had coupled with a human and he wanted to see the resulting offspring. Of course. "Jesus," Jordan whispered. "He wants to see the offspring. He wants to see what the union of his creation and a human would yield." He closed his eyes and shuddered. "He's trying to create a new race."

"Well, I'll be fucked if he's going to use my friend to do so," Brandon said, frowning. "Let's go get her back."

Jordan frowned. "I don't know if that's an option Brandon."

"Why not?"

Jordan's watch beeped and he glanced down at it. "Look, it's getting late. Let's talk about this later, okay?"

Brandon frowned, almost pouting. "Fine. But I'm not giving up on this." He stepped away and gathered his stuff up. "I think I'm going to go see Nikki tomorrow. You wanna come with?"

"Sure. After school?"

"Yeah." Brandon stepped up and kissed him briefly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure thing." Jordan kissed him again and watched him leave down the hallway, kept his eyes on his retreating back until he turned the corner for the elevators.

Brandon drove back home, relishing the rare experience of being able to drive the family car. It wasn't the most stylish model by any means, a modest silver Corolla, but he liked being able to drive, go wherever he wanted and listen to his own music while he did it.

When he got home, he stopped by the kitchen to see his mom. One of the new house rules. If one of his parents was at home, then he was to check in with one of them as soon as he got home--so they could make sure he hadn't been drinking, he was sure.

"Hi, Mom," he said, sliding his backpack off his shoulders and sitting it on a nearby chair.

"Where have you been?" His mom asked, not unkindly.

"I met up with Jordan. We ate and did homework." And talked about Leia and shapeshifters.

His mom smiled. "Good. That's good. I really like him. I commend you in your choice of dating partners."

"Um... thanks, I guess."

"School going okay?"

"Alexis outed us. To the entire school." He didn't even realize he was going to talk about it until the words left his mouth.

His mom gave him a look that he couldn't really decipher. "And what did you think of that?" she finally asked.

"Well, I don't think she did it to be deliberately mean. But it's kinda weird having everybody know. Some people were really nice about it, but some people...weren't."

His mom sat down across the table from him. "Honey, I hate to have to tell you this, but we don't live in a perfect world. And our society is largely homophobic. I wish it wasn't, but it is. And while I am thrilled to death for you for finding someone you are interested in dating, I also need you to be very careful. Arm yourself with supportive, understanding friends, but keep an eye out for those who might try to hurt you. It's not easy to be a gay person, even in this day and age, and I don't want to see anything happen to you."

"Mom, you're scaring me."

"I know, honey, and I'm sorry. But I need you to be aware that not everyone is going to understand. Your dad and I will always be on your side, no matter what, but not everyone is like that." She got up and knelt down in front of Brandon and hugged him. "I love you."

Brandon hugged her back. It was so unfair. Being outed had to be just as hard on Jordan as it was on him. He had his home and his family to come back to and Jordan had an empty hotel room. It just wasn't fair. "Mom?"

She leaned back, sitting on her heels. "Yeah?"

"Jordan's brother kicked him out of the house. Is it okay for him to stay here for a while?"

Her eyes darkened slightly. "He what?"

"His brother didn't like that Jordan was gay. They got into a fight about it and Jordan left. He's staying in a hotel room but--"

"Tell him to come on over. I'll get the guest room ready."

Brandon hugged his mom again, convinced for the moment that he had the greatest family ever.

Jordan had just taken a shower and was packing his books into his bookbag when his phone rang. He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jordan. Pack your stuff up and come on over. You're staying with us."

"Bran, that's not necessary-"

"I know it's not. We're doing it anyway. Mom's already getting the guest room ready."

"Bran, I don't-"

"I know. Just... I can't stand the thought of you staying in a hotel when we have room here. And besides, this way you won't have to drive all the way over here to pick me up in the morning, you'll already be here. Just for the next couple of nights, okay?"

There was silence on the other end.

"Jordan? Please?"

A defeated sigh.

"Fine."

* * *

Jordan would never admit how nice it was to show up at Brandon's house to find Brandon waiting for him with a smile and a hug. After he stowed his stuff in the guest room, he went back downstairs. Mrs. Williams told him that he could stay as long as he needed to, but that she wanted him to call his guardian the next day and let him know where he was. She didn't ask the circumstances behind the fact that he wasn't staying at his own house, but he had the feeling that Brandon had already told her. He stayed up for another half an hour watching television with Brandon and his parents before going to bed, feeling strangely content about his new living situation. He would never admit it, but it almost felt good to be in an environment where there were actual parents around, even though they weren't his own. He could never look to Dylan as a parental figure... sometimes he didn't even look to Dylan as a brother. They felt like roommate, sometimes, more than relatives.

He briefly toyed with the idea of not going back home. It wasn't like he had to. He was eighteen and no one had any real legal ties on him. And he was hardly destitute. A large chunk of his parent's life insurance policy and an equally sizeable portion of the damages from the suit his brother had won against the company that had manufactured Mattie's car seat had gone into a trust that he could use now that he was of age. And a portion of each of Dylan's paycheck went into an account that belonged solely to him. So no, money wasn't a problem. He could easily get his own place. And the allowance from his brother would continue as long as he stayed in school. As much as he would like to, he couldn't stay at Brandon's house for the rest of the year. Even though it felt good to pretend for a while that he was part of a family again.

Deciding it was something he could figure out tomorrow, he rolled over onto his side and tried to fall asleep.

Brandon decided that having Jordan creep into his room in the morning and kissing him until he woke up was a far better alternative to his alarm clock. "Mmm," Brandon murmured, kissing him back and opening his eyes once Jordan had pulled away. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Jordan said. He was already dressed. "Go ahead and get up so you'll have time for breakfast."

"I'm still amazed you didn't run away screaming at what I look like first thing in the morning," Brandon mumbled and heard Jordan's laughter echoing back at him from the hallway.

Brandon made his way downstairs a few minutes later, in all his gothified glory, looking around for Jordan. "Where's Jordan?" he asked his mom, walking into the kitchen and putting two slices of bread into the toaster.

"He's outside on his cell phone, talking to his guardian," his mom said stiffly. "Brandon, tell me the truth. Who gave him those bruises all over his face?"

"Dylan. His brother. They got into a fight."

His mom shook her head. "That's child abuse. I'm going to call-"

"It's not child abuse," Jordan said from the doorway. "I'm eighteen, Mrs. Williams, so technically I'm an adult. I don't have to stay with him if I don't want to."

"Still, he shouldn't be hitting you. That's assault."

Jordan shrugged. "Well, I'm not going to press charges or anything."

Brandon nodded to the phone in his hand. "What did he say?"

"Not much. I let him know where I was staying. He didn't like it." Jordan shrugged. "He's not going to do anything, like cut me off financially or anything like that, but he's not happy with the lifestyle I'm living. I don't know about going back to the house. It might be better to just find my own place."

"Is that what you want?" Brandon asked.

"I don't know. I never really got why we had that big house when it was just me and him living there. And he was hardly there anyway. He said if I wanted my own place, he would sign on as guarantor. He didn't say I wasn't welcome at the house, but I don't know if I want to go back there after what happened." Jordan looked down. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, don't worry about it right now," Mrs. Williams said firmly. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you want."

"Thank you," Jordan said politely, but his words lacked enthusiasm. He looked and sounded depressed and Brandon found his day, which had begun sweetly and brightly, dim a little.

* * *

The day didn't get much brighter. The initial sheen of coming out had faded and people began showing their uglier side, and it soon became quite obvious that the general population at their school wasn't thrilled at having an openly gay student in their halls. Brandon got tripped, shoved and at one point barely dodged a well aimed elbow to his face. Someone managed a pretty strong punch to his ribs while he was being jostled in the hallway and left Brandon gasping for air. He found Jordan around lunchtime and they took refuge in his car, eating lunch there. Brandon couldn't wait to get out of school at the end of the day.

Jordan drove them to the hospital where they heard the slightly happier news that Nikki was about to be transferred out of ICU, which meant she would probably soon be released from the hospital completely and allowed to go home. Dalaja was moving around the room, getting the few belongings scattered there packed up to move to the new room while Brandon and Jordan spoke to Nikki, whose voice was a little stronger and easier to hear.

"So where are you going when you get out of here?" Brandon asked.

"Home," Dalaja said firmly.

"Dala-" Nikki rasped out.

"No arguments. There's nothing we can do here, and it's too dangerous." Dalaja turned and looked at Jordan and Brandon apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't want you guys to think we are abandoning you or anything, but this is something that is way over our heads and I'm not going to let Nikki jeopardize her life again."

"Dala," Nikki said. "Let me talk to these two alone for a minute."

Dalaja narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare tell them differently."

Nikki rolled her eyes. "All right, Dala. You win this time, I told you that already. Just give me some time. Go get a coffee or something."

Dalaja grabbed her purse up from the floor and gave Jordan a warning look before she exited the room.

Nikki smiled. "Come over here you guys. Don't be afraid. I want to talk to you."

"How are you doing? Seriously?" Jordan asked.

"Well, now that they cut my pain meds down, I feel pretty crappy. My chest hurts and it's hard to breathe sometimes. I could fall back on the old cliché about how it feels like I've been shot, but it's not quite that bad."

"What did it feel like?" Brandon asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

"It seriously hurt. Jesus, it hurt like a mother. I'm surprised I didn't scream."

"Well, you did cuss," Brandon pointed out.

Nikki smiled. "Yeah, but that's not terribly uncommon."

Brandon laced his hands together. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare, don't you even start," Nikki said. "You didn't shoot me. You have nothing to apologize for. Don't pay any attention to what Dala says either. She's just scared. She has good reason to be. She's my Enabler after all."

Brandon frowned, puzzled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Nikki glanced at him then her eyes slid over to Jordan who was standing near the wall. "Jordan?"

"Yes, Nikki?"

"You didn't tell him."

Jordan shook his head. "It never came up."

"Jordan, he needs to know," Nikki said, sounding reproachful.

"I need to know what?" Brandon asked, getting annoyed. He hated that Jordan had been keeping so much hidden from him lately.

"Um-" Jordan started, but Nikki interrupted him.

"If a Creator dies, so does the Enabler."

Brandon blinked and Jordan came up behind him. "Thanks Nik," he said sarcastically. "That's a beautiful way to phrase it."

"It's the truth and I'm not going to sugarcoat it," Nikki said flatly.

"Whoa." Brandon held up his hands. "What do you mean about the Enabler dying?"

"That's the way the bond works. If the Creator dies, so does the Enabler. The Enabler can't exist on its own, its life is tied to the Creators."

"So if I die..."

"...so do I," Jordan said. He slid an arm around Brandon's hip. "And if Nikki had died when she got shot, Dalaja would have died too."

"How?"

"Heart failure. Natural causes. Something simple. The Enablers body would have just stopped functioning. Dalaja would have had a day, maybe two. A week at the most."

"So if Jordan dies, I will too?" Brandon asked. Jordan's hand shifted slightly and Brandon felt Jordan's fingers curl around one of his belt loops.

"No," Nikki said. "No, a Creator can survive without their Enabler. If the Enabler dies, the Creator will eventually get a new one. But it doesn't work the other way around."

"Well, that doesn't seem very fair. How come a Creator can keep on living without an Enabler, but not the other way around?"

"It's just the way it works," Jordan said. "You can keep on Creating; you would just find someone else who knew to bring things over. But if the Creator died, there would be no purpose for the Enabler to fulfill. I'm only matched up to you; if you were gone, I couldn't be an Enabler for someone else. I guess it's Fate or God's way of keeping things balanced out. Making sure there isn't a disproportionate number of Enablers without Creators out there."

That made Dalaja's concern suddenly seem very self serving, even though Brandon knew that Dalaja and Nikki had a close relationship that went beyond Creating and Enabling.

"Well, that sucks," Brandon said.

"So does getting shot."