Note: This story was written and posted with the permission of Nalan, author of the story Turn Around. This is intended as a followup to Turn Around, and it exists as tangible proof of my love for both the idea and execution of that story. The book quoted at the beginning of this story is Illusions, by Richard Bach.

Hunter raised an eyebrow, but he turned the page without comment. "'Of course, Master,'" he read aloud. "'It should be pleasure for him to suffer the tortures of hell itself, should God ask it!'

The book had caught his eye because it was, quite frankly, the only one in their corner of the room. And the first chapter was printed in imitation handwriting on lined paper with fake oil smudges in the margins. Apparently the "Master" was an automobile mechanic.

Amused, he had started reading. They'd come a way from "the holy land of Indiana," but there wasn't a lot of punctuation so it was easy to read aloud. The handwriting was starting to annoy him, though.

"'Honor to be hanged, glory to be nailed to a tree and burned, if so be that God has asked.'"

Hunter sighed, glancing around the room. He'd left a voice mail for Blake, and all he needed was for his brother to show up without warning and catch him reading this drivel. There were several people close enough to overhear him, despite how quietly he was reading, but it wasn't like he knew any of them.

"'And the multitude was silent,'" he continued. Apparently it was easy to stump these guys. "'Not a voice, not a sound was heard upon the hillsides, across the valleys where they stood.'"

A familiar and still vaguely slurred voice interrupted. "Why," Cam mumbled, "are you reading that?"

Hunter glanced over at him, but he didn't look any more with it than he had since they'd arrived. "'Cause I'm tired of trying to talk to you while you're loopy," he said briefly. They'd already had this conversation several times.

There was a pause, and he was about to start reading again when Cam repeated, "Loopy?"

He waited. This part of the conversation was usually followed up by a protest on Cam's part: either that he wasn't loopy or that he wasn't dead, the latter complaint being the reason he was on sedatives to begin with. Turned out he didn't deal so well with trauma.

"Why am I loopy?" Cam asked at last, and Hunter looked at him in surprise. That was new. Maybe the stuff was starting to wear off?

"'Cause you flipped out after the accident," he said, watching Cam's expression closely. It didn't tell him much. "They gave you something to calm you down."

Cam seemed to consider that, and Hunter entertained the faint hope that he was coming out of it. He could use some actual conversation. They'd been here for a while now, and he was seriously bored.

The response, when it came, didn't bode well for future entertainment. "Why are you here?" Cam wanted to know.

On the other hand, it was at least more interesting than the book. He stopped marking the page and set it aside, deciding that even a partially lucid Cam was more rational than "the adventures of a reluctant messiah." Too bad he didn't get to enjoy that lucidity in an environment that was a little more fun.

"Well," he remarked, "I think that if you agree to go on a date with someone, it's only fair that you stay till it's over. Or," he added, "they just haven't discharged me yet. Take your pick."

Cam was at least focused on him, so that was a good sign. "A date?" he repeated.

Or not. Hunter just shook his head, leaning back in his not very comfortable chair. "This is so typical of our relationship," he grumbled. "You're all coy for weeks, then you finally make a move, and the next day you pretend it didn't happen."

"We're going out." The skepticism, as far as Hunter was concerned, was completely uncalled for.

"You know, the guys think we've been dating since Thanksgiving," he informed Cam. "Except Tori, who knows you. And Dustin," he added, "who knows me."

Dustin knew what it was like to be stalked. When Hunter took an interest in someone, he didn't mess around. Until Cam, who had made it clear early on that he didn't respond to enthusiasm. Push him, even a little, and he pulled away. It was both annoying and attractive as hell.

Literally. Hell. Constantly tempting, every time a guy turned around, but it sure wasn't a place he wanted to stay forever. Cam needed to get his act together or he was going to start going out with Dustin again just to relieve the frustration.

"What day is it?" Cam asked out of the blue.

"Still Monday," Hunter said, eyeing him. "You're not that out of it."

"Monday, the..." Cam hesitated, but who knew if he was waiting for an answer or just trying to string the words together. He'd been pretty weird there for a while. "The sixth?"

"The tenth. Of January," Hunter told him. "My third day in a row with hospital time. Thanks a lot, by the way."

Cam just stared at him. "You've been here three days?"

Hunter rolled his eyes, tempted to kick the gurney but managing to restrain himself. "The race?" he reminded Cam. "I crashed? Had to come in to get test results yesterday?"

"Oh," Cam muttered, frowning. "Right."

An honest-to-goodness nurse finally stopped by their little corner, with a clipboard and a blood pressure cuff and everything. Ever since triage had relegated their relatively minor injuries to urgent care, they'd been sitting around--or in Cam's case, lying around--waiting for someone to check the job the EMTs had done and make sure there wasn't anything else they needed. It wasn't like he begrudged seriously injured patients the attention, it was just that he didn't see why it was so hard for someone to wander by and give him an update every once in a while.

Maybe they'd been waiting for Cam's sedative to wear off, he thought with a sigh. Of course the nurse talked to him first, and of course he sounded like maybe he'd been drinking even though he hadn't. Hunter had seen them test him at the scene, which he had protested on principle but it had been hard with Cam yelling about not being dead every other second. He'd sure sounded messed up on something.

The EMTs had assured him--after the breathalyzer, and the sedative--that it wasn't unusual for victims of a car crash to be hysterical. Well, fine, he was shaken up too, but at least he knew what day it was. And he hadn't missed the fact that, for all their calm reassurance, they'd drawn enough blood to run every drug test under the sun.

It wasn't even Cam's fault. They'd had a green light, and the other guy had tried to make a left turn like the intersection was empty. He'd hit the side of their car head-on, blew the airbag, and walked away. They got loaded up and carted off to the hospital for blood tests and butterfly stitches. Really nice.

The nurse concluded that they were about as fine as they looked with a minimum of fuss, which was all Hunter could ask after his second trip to the emergency room in three days. She told Cam that she had to discharge him into someone's care if she was going to discharge him at all, and Hunter couldn't help thinking that was redundant since they'd crashed their car. What were they gonna do, fly home?

"My brother's on the way," he told her, hoping it was true. "He can drop us off at my place, and I'll keep an eye on Cam overnight."

He didn't bother to look at Cam while he said this, since they didn't need to give the nurse any more reasons to doubt them. He knew Cam's dad ran the dojo where the guys trained, but he didn't know how to contact him and he wasn't about to go calling someone else's parents on them anyway. If Tori ever pulled that trick on him she'd be fired as his friend, no questions asked.

The nurse seemed okay with the idea. She took Blake's name so they'd know who it was okay to release information to when he arrived. She gave Cam all the forms Hunter had already filled out, plus an extra form for a billing address--unless, she said, they wanted to pay tonight?

Yeah, right. That was the last thing either of them needed right now. She smiled in a sympathetic nurse-y way, and she even gave Hunter a card for the canteen when he complained that he was hungry. Then she left them alone again. Well, as alone as they could be in the middle of what looked like the urgent care center's waiting room.

"You want anything to eat?" Hunter asked, after he'd finished the billing form and Cam was only halfway through his first background sheet.

Cam shook his head, leaning awkwardly over the side of the gurney as he wrote in his lap. "I'm fine," he muttered. Then, after a noticeable pause, he added, "Thanks." He didn't look up.

"203," Hunter said, reading over his shoulder. He reached out to tap the address part of Cam's form. "246 is your old room number."

"Oh." Cam stopped writing for a moment, then crossed out the old number and wrote in the new one. "Right. Just habit."

"Uh-huh." Hunter eyed him. "Like the phone number?"

Cam sighed, scribbling out his old phone number. "Do you want to fill this out for me?"

"You want me to?" Hunter countered. "I could do a better job than you're doing right now."

To his surprise, Cam stuck his pen on the top of the clipboard and passed the whole thing over to him. "What?" he said, in response to Hunter's stare. "You said it yourself, I'm loopy from the sedative. I don't even know what I'm writing."

"O-kay." This was what he got for making fun of Cam, apparently. Interesting. He sat down again, considering the background sheet.

It was a challenge. He enjoyed challenges. A little too much, his brother would say, but hey, look who's talking, right? He filled in what he knew, guessed about a few things without being corrected, and then asked questions until he got bored.

He stuck Cam with the rest of the paperwork while he wandered off to find something to eat. He called Blake again from the canteen, and this time his bro picked up. Five minutes out from the hospital. Worried, yeah, but apparently not enough to call back and ask what was going on.

Not fair, Blake protested. He hadn't wanted to waste any time, that was all. But since he was on the phone now, he'd better get the full story.

He jerked awake when the car crashed for the second time that night. He shoved the blanket back and sat up on the couch without thinking, groaning as pain and stiffness kicked in about two seconds too late. His neck complained, his back ached, and the skin under his stitches was hot to the touch.

He hurt all over. The best thing he could do would be to sleep, since obviously his body needed it. The dream hadn't been that bad, just startling, a vivid flash of the fear he hadn't had time for when they'd gone skidding across the intersection earlier.

He got up to get a drink anyway. His mouth was dry, and he might as well give his brain time to reset before he let it start dreaming again. And he should probably check on Cam while he was up.

Cam had been quiet on the way back from the hospital. He hadn't said much at the apartment, either, except to turn down an offer of food and TV or a movie. He was still feeling groggy, he said. He just needed some sleep. So Hunter had made up his bed for him, and he hadn't heard a sound from the bedroom since the door had closed behind him.

Okay, no, Cam didn't need to be checked on. But if he was asleep, what was so bad about just looking at him for a second?

He knocked first, very softly. He thought he heard a muttered reply, and he grimaced. Of course the guy would be a light sleeper. "Cam?" he whispered, pushing the door open a little.

"But I don't know anything about neutrinos." The words were quiet but perfectly clear, as though Cam was talking to someone standing right beside the bed. Hunter opened the door the rest of the way and stepped into the room, trying to figure out if the shadow on the bed was sitting up or not.

"Cam?" he repeated. "You awake?"

"Lothor doesn't even like kids," Cam's voice replied.

Hunter blinked. "Yeah, you mentioned that," he said cautiously. He sure sounded awake. With Blake, that was usually a pretty good sign that he was still asleep. But this was Cam, and Cam was a little odd. So who knew?

"Don't leave me here," Cam mumbled.

He sidled over to the bed, fairly sure of his welcome now even if Cam was awake. "Hey," he said, reaching for the lump of sheets and covers. "Cam, it's okay."

His hand brushed against the covers and Cam bolted upright, yelling his name. His fingers tightened reflexively on what turned out to be a shoulder and Cam grabbed for his arms, clawing at him... not trying to hurt him, he realized a split second later. Trying to hold onto him.

He moved in as close as he could, feeling fingers clench against his chest as Cam buried his face in his old t-shirt and murmured, "Don't leave me," over and over again. He slid his arms around Cam's shoulders and wrapped him in an awkward hug. Must have been a hell of a nightmare.

He rubbed gentle circles on Cam's back, holding onto him until the shaking started to subside. The fingers fisted in his t-shirt opened suddenly, a reaction more than a relaxation, but Cam didn't pull away. Hunter just waited. He could do the crying-on-the-shoulder routine as long as he had to, because if there was one thing he was good at, it was being the understanding one.

He'd had a lot of practice with understanding.

There was a moment when Cam actually did relax. A moment, after all the tension drained out of him, when he slumped where he was, leaning instead of clinging, and Hunter closed his eyes. For just a second he let himself enjoy the embrace, Cam's skin hot under his thin t-shirt, the body that seemed to constantly vibrate with a secret energy still for once.

For just a second he was petting Cam's back instead of trying to soothe him. For a second he was trying not to think about what would happen if Cam lifted his head and kissed him right now, because he'd had to push him away on New Years and he knew he had to push him away now. He couldn't make out with someone he had in his apartment under medical observation after a first date that had landed them both in the emergency room.

He also knew he wouldn't be able to say no. In an instant he could remember every detail of Cam's lips on his, alcohol sharp on his breath, body pressed closer than it was now and every sense screaming for more. He saw the firelight, heard Cam's ragged breathing, and felt the boneless slide of self-control that was already miles away and fading fast.

Then the longest moment of his life was over, and Cam was stiff again as he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he muttered. His voice was weirdly distant. "I just..." Hunter thought he swallowed before he continued softly, "I had a bad dream."

"Yeah." His voice was rough as he gripped Cam's shoulders, but he figured that was okay because he'd been sleeping, so. "You're not the only one."

"It--" Cam stammered and stopped. "It wasn't about the accident."

"Yeah?" Hunter let go of him to shove the covers back and sit down on the bed beside him. He didn't mean to sit quite so close, but the mattress dipped there in the middle and they ended up with their sides pressed up against each other. "What was it about?"

Cam didn't try to move away. "I dreamed... that I died," he said at last.

Well, that sounded familiar. "That's, uh--" Hunter shifted, a little uncomfortable. "That's what you said right after the accident, right? That you weren't dead?"

"I guess." Cam sounded really tired suddenly, like he just wanted this conversation to be over. But he kept talking, and as long as he was talking, there was no way Hunter was walking away. "I've had that... dream... before."

"You dream that you're dead," Hunter said, just to make sure. That didn't sound good. But hey, he had some weird ones sometimes. He was sure some dream shrink somewhere would have a field day with all the shit he'd dreamed about Dustin.

"Not... exactly." Cam was quiet for a moment, and as they sat there in the darkness Hunter wondered fleetingly why he never dreamed about Cam.

"I dream--" Cam stopped as soon as he started again, and then he said, "Not all the time. Just, once or twice. I've dreamed that I was dying. That I was..." He seemed to search for the words. "In a coma, maybe. And people I sort of know keep coming to see me.

"Including you," he added, and his voice sounded funny. "You come to see me. And you're... I can hear you, but you can't hear me. And you always leave again, even... even though--"

Hunter slid an arm around his shoulders, feeling Cam shudder violently as he did it. He didn't relax, muscles tight as he sat as straight as he could on the sagging bed, but he didn't pull away. He was trying not to cry. Hunter knew it, could hear it in the way his voice broke, could feel it in the trembling breath he took afterward.

Finally, Hunter was sure he wasn't going to say anything else. "You want some cheap, dimestore psychology?" he asked in a low voice.

There were no words, but he could feel Cam nod.

"Get out of school," Hunter muttered into the darkness. "You worked yourself half to death last semester. This semester just feels like... finishing the job, you know?"

Cam didn't answer.

"Look," Hunter said quickly. "Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. But I like you, and you've gotten way more laid-back since you dropped out of school. You seem... I dunno. More relaxed. Happier. Now you're going back, and suddenly you start dreaming about dying?

"Maybe it means something totally different," he continued. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. But when you start dreaming that no one can hear you, maybe you should think about what you're trying to tell them."

He wasn't sure what Cam's silence meant until he finally muttered, "Or what I'm trying to tell myself."

Hunter let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yeah," he agreed. "Maybe that." Now didn't really seem like the time for that kind of introspection, though. And if he knew Cam, which he did, he knew that all ideas were immediately put into practice unless derailed by something more practical.

So he let his arm slide off of Cam's shoulders, nudging him in the side as he straightened up. "Hey, you want some ice cream or something? I've got fudge mint and peaches 'n cream in the freezer."

Cam's response was blurted out, like he hadn't even thought about. "You're so gay," he said. Then he seemed surprised the words had come out of his mouth.

Hunter just chuckled. "Well, yeah," he said, standing up and reaching back for Cam's elbow in the darkened room. "You might as well take advantage of it."

Please, he added silently, as Cam dragged himself to his feet and followed him out into the kitchen. He watched the preoccupied figure out of the corner of his eye while he got out ice cream and a couple of spoons. Take advantage of it.

It seemed like everyone in the world had heard about the accident by the time he arrived at work the next day. They lived in the area and had heard the sirens, they had a police scanner, or they knew someone at the hospital. Or the paper. Or the gas station across the street. He'd thought the moto world was small, but this was ridiculous.

His boss told him she didn't give out hazard pay for extracurricular activities. His co-workers told him to stay away from motorized vehicles until the stars realigned or the moon changed phases or something. His mom told him to come home and have dinner with his bro and the parents that evening.

He was pretty sure at least half her reason for the invite was curiosity about whose car he'd been riding in the night before.

He'd told Cam, when he dropped him off on campus that morning, that he'd call him later to see how he was doing. Cam hadn't objected. Still, when he dialed Cam's new number that evening he wasn't entirely surprised to hear the phone ring four times and then go to voice mail.

He left a message. When he called back an hour later and got voice mail again, though, he didn't leave another one. This was Cam's standard freak-out behavior: do something, freak out, retreat. He'd get over it.

He gave Cam all day Wednesday to call him back. The guy was busy, right? Starting classes, reassuring his dad, working... avoiding Hunter. It took up his time.

On Thursday, Hunter left work early and headed downtown. Cam had moved the therapy appointments he wasn't supposed to know about to Thursday afternoons, and a little covert intel from Tori had given him the exact time. He loitered outside the office for more than half an hour before he figured Cam had either snuck out some previously unknown back door or skipped the appointment altogether.

Bored now, Hunter thought grimly. This game was over.

He left his bike in a questionable and definitely unmetered space at the end of the dorm lot and headed inside, taking the stairs two at a time. If Cam wasn't here, he had a hastily formulated three-part plan: call Tori. Bug Cam's neighbors. And if all else failed, wait outside Cam's door until he turned up.

Luckily for Tori and all of Cam's neighbors, a familiar voice replied as soon as he banged on the door. "Who is it?" And wasn't that just like Cam. Even in a dorm, he had to know who was at the door before he opened it.

"It's me," Hunter told the door. "Either answer your phone or open the door."

There was a long pause. Hunter got out his cell phone and started dialing. He heard movement from inside the room just as the phone started ringing, and he smiled to himself. Then, in a move he totally should have expected, the ringing stopped.

"Hello," Cam's voice said in his ear.

"You couldn't have done that two days ago?" Hunter asked.

There was an audible sigh. "I was busy?" the voice offered.

"Open the door," Hunter replied.

Cam hung up. The delay was just long enough for Hunter to wonder what he would do if he didn't open the door. Cam seriously needed to get over this running away thing. Or Hunter needed to get over the stalking thing. One or the other. They were a bad combination.

Then the door swung open, and his thoughts evaporated. Cam looked nervous and stubborn at the same time, like a kid who was about to be yelled at by his parents and didn't plan to take it. His skittish attitude was the only thing keeping his appearance from getting him a spot on America's Next Gay Model.

Hunter folded his arms, grinning to cover his surprise. "I like the new look," he said, gaze flicking over Cam for the second time. Hair cut short and spiked with gel, glasses gone, tight black t-shirt with a lightning bolt down the front. He looked like the bad twin.

"I feel like the bad twin," Cam muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He was echoing Hunter's posture the same way he echoed his thoughts: without even realizing it.

"Is that an invitation?" Hunter asked, leaning casually againt the doorframe. There was nothing to say he couldn't make out with Cam today.

On the other hand, he thought he could be a little more patient if Cam would act just a little more sure of himself. So maybe this was win-win. Either Cam agreed to make out with him, or he told him why he wasn't going to. Hunter could work with actual, concrete reasons.

Which was to say, he could work around them.

Cam just stared at him. "An invitation to what?"

Hunter rolled his eyes. Or maybe the look didn't mean anything at all. "Can I come in?" he asked pointedly.

Cam stepped out of the way without a word. Hunter caught a whiff of styling gel as he slipped past, but he was distracted by his first glimpse of Cam's new room. Impressive. Jaw-dropping, actually. Like stepping into another dimension.

Of course he'd only seen the old one as it was being packed up, but he'd thought he had a pretty good idea of what had gone into it. Now he was starting to realize he'd had no idea. This wasn't an entertainment system, it was a setup that turned one entire wall of the room into a virtual reality interface.

He'd bet Cam got all the really good sports channels. And he'd bet he didn't watch a single one. It was a crime to use a screen like that just for surfing the internet.

"I'm in the middle of, uh, sorting some stuff," Cam said quickly, apparently misinterpreting his stare. And yeah, okay, there was stuff covering the desk and spread out over the floor, but who cared?

"You've seen my apartment," Hunter reminded him, tearing his eyes away from the computer system. "I bet this place is five times neater than mine on a bad day."

"Well..." Cam hesitated, avoiding his gaze. He stared at the floor, then shifted his attention to the bed. It too was full of stuff. "This is a bad day. So."

"Ah." Hunter nodded. "So, ten times neater than mine."

Cam cracked a smile at that, but he didn't look up. "I don't even know where half this stuff came from," he muttered. It sounded almost like he was talking to himself.

"Moving's always like that," Hunter offered, letting his gaze wander around the room again. "You either never want to buy anything again, or you want to chuck it all and start over."

A bottle on the desk caught his eye, and he picked it up out of idle curiosity just as Cam said, "I'm leaning toward starting over, actually."

Iron pills. He shook the bottle: almost empty. He glanced at Cam quizzically. "Anemic?" He'd never said.

Cam's expression was shuttered. "I was," he said shortly. "Apparently I'm cured now."

Hunter studied him, wondering what the issue was. "Took 'em once," he said with a shrug, setting the bottle down again. "Bad crash, lost a lot of blood. No big deal."

Cam didn't say anything.

Hunter pulled his desk chair out, skating it around the piles on the floor so he could sit down. "So I didn't see you downtown this afternoon," he said, playing with the keys Cam had left next to his day planner. "Did you skip your thing?"

Cam was frowning at him now, but he couldn't tell if it was for the question or the keys. "My thing?" he repeated.

"You know." Hunter waved the keys vaguely. The key ring had bright orange tape wrapped around it, maybe to make it easier to find if it got lost somewhere? "Your appointment, downtown."

"Oh, the therapy?" Cam blinked, glancing past Hunter at his desk. "Why, was I supposed to meet you afterward?"

"Hey, I was just curious," Hunter said defensively. Okay, so maybe he wasn't supposed to mention it, but the sarcasm was uncalled for.

On the other hand, it was the first time Cam had ever admitted those were therapy sessions he was attending. He acted like it hadn't even been a secret... like he'd known Hunter knew all along. It wasn't the first time he'd made a pointed comment about stalking, either.

"No, it's--uh, I went," Cam said. He shook his head. "I left early. We, um..." He shifted uncomfortably. "We had a disagreement."

Hunter smirked down at the keys in his hand. "Oh, yeah?" Cam could be bad enough when he was agreeing. "Disagreement" was probably a serious understatement.

"First rule of therapy," Cam snapped. "Talk to someone you trust. I don't trust her, ergo, she can't help me."

Hunter grinned. "Ergo?" he repeated, putting the keys back on the desk. "Did you just use 'ergo' in a sentence?"

"The keys don't go there," Cam informed him. He strode over to the desk, picked the keys up, and moved them three inches to the right. "I have enough trouble remembering them without you scrambling my system."

Hunter stood up in time to get right in his face and like it. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes caught in Cam's gaze. He'd never believed that stuff about being able to see into a person's soul. But he was pretty sure the fact that Cam was looking back at him right now mattered.

Cam swallowed, but he didn't take his eyes off of him. "I think I might be crazy," he whispered.

Hunter felt a slow smile creep across his face, because, yeah. That was pretty clear. "I like that you're crazy," he told Cam. "I think it works for you."

Cam just looked at him, as sincere as he'd ever seemed, and he didn't laugh. "What else do you like about me?" he asked quietly.

Hunter raised his eyebrows at him. Seriously?

The first hint of a smile touched Cam's expression, and Hunter bit back the joke he'd been about to make. "So I can keep doing it," Cam said simply.

That was maybe the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him, and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to match it. "I like that you're smart," he said, feeling awkward the second he opened his mouth but determined not to show it. "You're funny. You're hot. And--"

He reached out and let his fingers brush against Cam's skin. "I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time," he confessed. "I hope that doesn't screw with the trust issue."

He was mostly joking. Still, Cam's reply made him smile. "Trust score," Cam murmured. "Plus ten."

"Only ten?" Hunter countered. "Come on."

"You don't get to negotiate your trust score," Cam informed him. "Take it or leave it."

He took it. He took the trust, the crazy, the smart and the slow and the shy and the strange. He took his first kiss from someone who had kissed him before and didn't even remember a night he knew he would never forget. Then he took his second kiss, and his third... and it started to matter less and less.

He figured they'd both have plenty more to remember soon.