Two days later, on December 24, StarWatch brought Jason’s world crumbling down.

It began innocuously enough. Natalie called to report the tabloid had devoted a two-page spread to the story of JayWalk chasing an unseen person into the woods and then spent nearly an hour on his knees in the snow, conversing with thin air. An exaggeration. Jason speculated it’d been closer to ten minutes. But there was no arguing with the many photos they published alongside the article.

StarWatch also reported they’d tried to contact JayWalk and his agent, but had been refused a comment.

“They never called,” Natalie assured him. “But I’m getting calls now from other tabloids. What do you want me to say?”

He was sitting on the couch next to Ben, watching It’s a Wonderful Life. Ben was so engrossed in the movie, he didn’t even seem to realize Jason was on the phone. “Tell them I was rehearsing for a part.”

“Good idea.” She stopped, and Jason waited, knowing more was coming. “Speaking of parts—”

“I’ll take it.”

There was a moment of silence as she digested that. “Are we talking about Summer Camp Nightmare 4? Are you saying you’ll do it?”

“That’s what I’m saying. And if you have anything else in your queue, send it my way. I haven’t decided how much I’ll take on but . . . I don’t know. I think maybe I’m ready to work again.”

“That’s wonderful! I can have a dozen scripts to you by the end of the week. Do you want anything in particular?”

Jason glanced at Ben, who was staring rapt at the TV. “No horror. Let’s do something happy. A comedy or a romance. Even a little part. It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

“I’ll get on it right away.”

Jason clicked off, feeling good about the entire thing. More work meant more places to go, more new things for Ben to see. And as for acting, maybe he just needed a new perspective. After all, he didn’t need to conquer the world. He didn’t need blockbusters or Oscars. He only needed to make Ben happy. And if that meant doing a film or two, so be it.

Unfortunately, the second call of the day didn’t go so well. It came later in the afternoon.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Dylan sputtered. “What the . . . I mean . . . How . . . What . . . Jesus Christ, those pictures!”

“Wow. Not quite speechless, but that’s as close as you get, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t funny!”

“Are you upset about the StarWatch article? It’s nothing. You know how they are. It’s all bullshit, and the photos are completely out of context.”

He waited, listening to Dylan’s slow, measured breathing on the other end of the line. Dylan was furious, that much was clear, but doing his best to keep it in. “I saw the globe.”

Jason swore to himself. StarWatch hadn’t focused on it, but of course Dylan had spotted it sitting on the veranda steps. “It’s not what you think.”

“You lied to me.”

“Yes,” Jason said, pushing off the couch. He didn’t want to have this conversation where Ben could hear, even if Ben wasn’t listening. “I lied to you,” he confessed as he took the phone across the hall into the kitchen. “I didn’t destroy the globe, but I haven’t gone crazy again either.”

“You’re doing a damn fine job of faking it, then.”

Jason leaned back against the kitchen counter, his hand over his eyes, trying to figure out what to say. “Nothing I say will convince you, I know that. But I’m fine.”

“Maybe you are, but I’d like to see for myself. I’m coming up there.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Come on, Jason. This isn’t like you. You can’t blame me for being concerned.”

“You don’t need to be concerned. You don’t need to worry about me. In fact . . .” A lump formed in his throat, but he choked past it, knowing suddenly what he needed to do. “You don’t need to worry about me ever again, okay? I can take care of myself. So stop meddling. Stop pretending you care when we both know you don’t. Stay in Hollywood. Go back to whoever you’re fucking this week, and let me be.”

The words hung there, echoing over the line. It took Dylan several seconds to reply. “I’ve always cared about you. You know that.”

Not enough. The response rose up unbidden, but he stopped it, holding it on the tip of his tongue, wondering at the bitterness and grief that filled him.

“Jason,” Dylan said, and now, the anger was gone. Now, he was pleading. “Let’s go away together, okay? I’ll book the flights right now. Anywhere you want to go. Las Vegas, or New Orleans, or Mexico? Maybe Cancun?”

“No.”

“We’ve talked about Belize a hundred times. I think we should go. We’ll spend Christmas together on the beach, and you’ll feel so much better, I promise. I’ll fix everything. Please. I’ll make everything up to you. Just say you’ll come away with me.”

“I can’t. Not today, Dylan. Not ever.” The lump rose higher. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, but he saw now that there was only one way out of this. There was only one way to ensure that Dylan never interfered again. “I’ve spent ten years waiting for you. Ten years watching you fuck your way through Hollywood, waiting here like a fool for the nights you’d decide it was my turn again. I love you. God, I love you so much, I can barely remember a time when I didn’t. But I have to let go now. I have to move on.”

“No. Listen to me—”

“Maybe you care, or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t matter. What matters is . . .” He took a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face, doing his best to steady his quavering voice. “I’m done.”

“Jason,” Dylan said, not much more than a whisper. It was possible he was crying too. “Honey, please stop. If you’ll only hear me out—”

“Merry Christmas,” Jason managed to say. “Good-bye.”

He stayed hidden in the kitchen for a while, his face in his hands, trying to tell himself he’d done the right thing. Still, he couldn’t believe how much it hurt. No, he didn’t love Dylan now the way he had before. His feelings for Ben eclipsed anything he’d ever felt for Dylan. Still, Dylan was his friend.

His only friend, other than Ben.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He’d find new friends, and he’d make up with Dylan eventually.

Probably.

Still, after the things he’d said, nothing would ever be the same. If only Dylan had believed him rather than pushing him to this place where severing their friendship seemed like his only option, but there was no point dwelling on it now. He had Ben. That was the only thing that mattered. He’d protected their secret.

He dried his eyes, hoping to eliminate all evidence of his emotional turmoil. Ben didn’t deserve that. Especially not now, on Christmas Eve.

He returned to the living room to find Ben in the doorway, a worried frown on his face. Where were you? What happened?

“Phone call. I figured I’d go in the kitchen so I didn’t disturb you.”

Is that all?

“Of course.”

Ben clearly wasn’t convinced, and Jason felt a bit guilty for lying, but he didn’t see any reason to taint Ben’s Christmas with concerns over Dylan.

He needed a way to distract Ben. A way to distract them both, really.

He looked at their tree, which had been wonderful to decorate, but now seemed pathetic with only two gifts under it—one from Natalie, and one from his real estate agent. He stared past it, through the window at his snowy yard. It was only four in the afternoon, but being so late in the year and so far north, the sun was already setting. It’d be dark before long.

And the answer came to him.

“You want to get out of here? Maybe go for a ride?”

Ben’s suspicion gave way to interest. And go where?

“When I was a kid, we always spent Christmas Eve driving around, seeing the lights, and I hear Coeur d’Alene puts up a lot of them. How about if we drive to town and check them out?”

Ben’s smile lit up his face. That sounds wonderful.

Looking at lights turned out to be a fantastic idea. Ben was thrilled, even more so when they stumbled across the Holiday Cruise on Lake Coeur d’Alene, a forty-minute trip to a faux North Pole, complete with fireworks, Santa, and carols. Jason held the brochure, so Ben could read it. It promised the perfect view of over two hundred Christmas displays, totaling more than 1.5 million lights.

“What do you think?” Jason asked. “Should we do it?”

Stupid question. Ben was giddy with excitement.

The ship was packed full of families and wide-eyed kids. Jason felt foolish at first, being the only person there alone—or so it would seem to anybody who saw him—carrying his gift bag over his wrist, but his embarrassment quickly faded next to Ben’s absolute wonder. Most of the passengers chose to stay on the first level, which was enclosed and climate-controlled, but Ben wanted none of that. They stood on the open top deck of the ship instead, Ben bouncing on his toes like a kid, clapping his hands in delight at the passing light displays. It was damn cold out, but Jason wasn’t about to ruin Ben’s fun.

They reached the cruise’s destination, a North Pole village filled with lights. Santa appeared, calling on each of the kids present by name. Then they lit an enormous living Christmas tree, and the singing started. Jason didn’t sing along, but Ben did. He had a good voice. It was too bad nobody but Jason could hear him.

Finally, they boarded the ship for the return trip.

“That was perfect,” Ben said when they were back in Jason’s car. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was amazing!” He gushed until the music box ran out, and then he kept going, even though Jason couldn’t hear him or try to read his lips while driving. By the end, he was pretty sure Ben was singing Christmas carols again. His happiness was infectious, and by the time Jason pulled into his drive, his melancholy was gone. His house no longer felt empty or unwelcome.

It felt like home.

“Thank you,” Ben said quietly once they were settled on the couch, Ben cuddled against Jason’s side. “That was the most wonderful gift anybody’s ever given me.”

“I’m glad.”

“Speaking of gifts, you need to open yours!”

Jason eyed the two flat, heavy boxes under the tree. “Shouldn’t I wait until tomorrow?”

“At my house, we always opened them on Christmas Eve.”

“Anything for you.”

It seemed Natalie and Sydney thought alike. Both gifts were boxes of fruit, nuts, and candy.

“Wow,” Ben said, fighting not to smile. “Two boxes of winter oranges. They’re so rare, too. They must have cost a fortune.”

“Brat.”

“They look delicious. I wish I could help you eat them.”

Me too. But Jason didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he held up one of the candies from the box. “Peppermint. I think I was supposed to bring you some for Christmas.”

Ben sobered as he realized Jason’s intent. He shook his head emphatically. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I won’t stay long, I promise. I’ll set the alarm. We’ll be careful. But it’s Christmas, and the only thing I want is to be able to kiss you.”

Ben chewed his lip, clearly torn. “Fifteen minutes?” he offered.

“Not enough. I want ninety.”

“Thirty?”

“An hour,” Jason insisted. “That’s my final offer.”

“Fifty minutes,” Ben relented. “Somehow that feels safer than sixty.”

“Deal.”

A slow grin spread across Ben’s face. “I think you’ll be able to do more than kiss me in that time.”

“I’m counting on it!”

Jason swallowed two of the sleeping pills Dylan had given him, then sucked on a peppermint as he ran upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Once that was done, he opened the drawer of his bedside table and stood staring at its contents, wondering.

He had a plan, but would it work?

He figured he was more likely to oversleep in the comfort of his bed, so five minutes later, he popped another peppermint into his mouth, set the alarm on his phone, and settled on his couch with the globe in his hands.

Eagerness made him anxious, and it took longer to fall asleep than he would have liked, but finally, he drifted into darkness and surfaced in the barren silence of the cabin. Ben stood waiting for him. He wore only his shirt, although it hung down far enough to hide his groin. A faint blush was evident on his cheeks.

“Wow,” Jason said, reaching out to take his hands. “Undressed already?”

Ben let Jason pull him close. “We only have fifty minutes. I thought I’d save us some time.”

“I love the way you think.”

Ben smiled and kissed Jason sweetly, playing his tongue over Jason’s lips. “You brought me peppermint.”

“As promised.”

Ben kissed him again, sighing happily at the taste on Jason’s tongue before pulling back to meet his eyes. “I wish I had a present for you.”

“You let me visit. That’s all I wanted anyway.”

Ben shook his head. “No. I mean, I wish I had something you could unwrap.”

Jason laughed, pushing Ben gently back onto the bed. “Trust me,” he said as he undid the bottom button on Ben’s shirt and slid his hand inside, “unwrapping you is the only present I need. You’re way better than those damn oranges.”

He took his time with each button, touching Ben and kissing him, his caresses bordering on reverence. Ben wasn’t as patient. He tugged at Jason’s clothing, kissing him hungrily, groaning with both pleasure and frustration. Finally they were skin to skin, and Jason reached back surreptitiously, checking to see if the lube he’d applied before falling asleep had made it into the globe. Maybe not all of it—he’d been quite liberal in his application—but there was enough.

He was already on top of Ben, but with Ben’s legs wrapped around his waist. Ben moaned in aggravation as Jason disentangled himself.

“No,” he growled. “Why are you trying to get away from me now? We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Jason said, fighting not to laugh as he straddled Ben’s hips instead. “Trust me.”

The best part wasn’t the way Ben’s eyes grew huge as Jason pushed down onto him. It wasn’t feeling Ben inside of him, or knowing he’d beaten the globe. It wasn’t even the joy of sharing themselves in the most intimate way he knew. No, the best part was watching Ben, seeing the sheer awe and wonder on his face as Jason began to move. Seeing the way he shivered and strained, every muscle in his slim body taut and tense. He seemed overwhelmed by how good it felt, and yet almost afraid at the same time.

“Relax.” Jason bent to kiss Ben’s neck as he rocked. “This is supposed to be fun.”

Ben shook his head emphatically. “This can’t be right,” he whispered. “Oh God, Jason, this can’t be right.”

“Why not?”

“It feels too good.” His whimper was almost a sob, his fingers digging painfully into Jason’s shoulders. “Oh God, I don’t think anything should feel this good.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason asked, hoping against hope Ben didn’t say yes.

“No.” Ben pulled him close, kissing him. “I don’t ever want this to end.”

Jason sighed with relief, sinking down again onto Ben’s length. He would have willingly done anything Ben asked of him, but he was glad he didn’t have to stop now. It was too perfect, the way Ben fit inside of him, the way he held Jason, the way he looked at him as they made love. He watched Ben’s eyes, reveling in the pleasure he saw there, overjoyed at the way he could read Ben, even now, when he was lost in pleasure. He loved that he could tell when Ben’s orgasm was about to hit.

“Jason,” Ben gasped, his tone bordering on panic.

“Shh,” Jason soothed. “Don’t fight it. This is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

Ben strained, finally grabbing Jason and thrusting deep, crying out as his orgasm shook him. Jason held him, kissing him, caressing him until it had passed and Ben fell back on the covers, breathing hard, finally at ease, a giant smile on his face.

“I’m glad I didn’t know about that for the last hundred and fifty years. It’s better that I didn’t know what I was missing.”

“Better than the peppermint I brought?”

Ben laughed breathlessly. “Better than anything.” His expression turned playful, and he pulled Jason into a kiss. “I’d planned to give you something too, you know.”

“I thought you already did.”

Ben licked his lips, reaching down to slide his fingers up Jason’s length as he did. “I want to taste you.”

“Oh Jesus,” Jason moaned, suddenly fighting not to come at the mere thought of it. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up.”

“You can stop me,” Ben said, wiggling downward on the bed as he urged Jason up toward the headboard. “Eventually.”

Jason didn’t have the willpower to argue. He groaned as Ben wrapped his gorgeous lips around the tip of his cock. He kept one white-knuckled fist on the headboard and tangled the fingers of his other hand into Ben’s thick, black hair, being careful not to push. It may have been Ben’s first time, but he made up for his lack of experience with sheer enthusiasm. It seemed like only a few glorious moments before Jason was gasping, fighting with himself, desperate to stop before his orgasm woke him up, but unable to pull away from something so perfect.

“Wait,” he started to say. But Ben shook his head, holding him tight as he continued to suck him, his hands and his eyes urging Jason on, begging him to take this chance, to let Ben give him this one thing, and as usual, Jason was powerless to deny Ben anything. He cried out as his orgasm hit, gripping the headboard, fighting hard not to thrust his hips or push too deep into Ben’s throat. His vision blurred, but steadied again, and when he opened his eyes, still trying to catch his breath, the soundless fire still danced in the hearth. The featureless sky loomed outside. And Ben still lay beneath him on the bed, his dark hair in wild disarray, his lips swollen and red, his blue eyes triumphant. He was so fucking beautiful it took Jason’s breath away.

“See?” Ben said. “Practice is good.”

“God, I love you.”

Ben laughed, but even his lighthearted joy couldn’t distract Jason from the sheer reverence and overpowering devotion that welled up in his heart, just seeing Ben’s smile. He adored Ben. He worshiped him. He felt like a meager little planet circling the brilliance of Ben’s star. It was the most overwhelming thing he’d ever experienced. It was both terrifying and thrilling. Everything he’d ever known paled in comparison to this young man, set adrift through time to land in Jason’s hands.

He moved off of Ben and pulled him into his arms. “This,” he said, kissing Ben’s temple. “This is my new best day.”

“Not mine, but only because I’ve stopped keeping track. I have too many good days with you now to count. It’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”

“Thank you for letting me visit.”

Ben sobered, nestling against Jason. Jason sensed Ben’s mood shifting, but it took Ben several moments to reply. “It was worth it. I’m still amazed at how good it felt. But I also worry it was a terrible idea.”

“Why?” Jason asked, stunned. “What makes you say that?”

“Because now it will be harder to tell you no next time you ask to visit.”

“And that’s a problem?”

Ben sighed, placing his hand on Jason’s bare chest. “I want this time together too, Jason. You have to know that. I want it as much as you do, but . . .” His voice faltered, and he took a deep, shaking breath before finishing. “I’m so afraid.”

“That traveling into the globe is hurting me, you mean?”

Ben nodded.

“I think it’s worth the risk.”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t.”

Jason pondered that. There had to be a way to give them both what they wanted without Ben worrying so much. “Let’s make a deal,” he said, pulling back enough to meet Ben’s eyes. “No more quick trips in and out just to test the globe. I think we’ve learned everything we can doing that anyway. But in return, you grant me one visit per month.”

Ben chewed his lip. “For how long?”

“We’ll start with shorter visits, thirty or forty minutes each. Maybe we’ll be able to make the visits longer eventually. If not?” He shrugged and leaned in to tease his lips over Ben’s. “At least we’ll have time for this, right?”

Ben debated, and Jason sat back, waiting. “I’ll agree,” he said, “with one stipulation.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to leave written instructions for Natalie and your lawyer and Sheriff Ross, and whoever else you can think of.”

“What kind of instructions?”

“That if anything happens to you, they destroy the globe.”

Jason’s heart jumped into his throat. “What?” he asked, hoping he’d misunderstood. “That would kill you.”

“I know.”

“No!” He gripped Ben’s arms, unsure if he wanted to shake some sense into him or pull him close and never let go. “No, I won’t agree to that.”

“Then you can’t come inside.”

“Ben—”

“If something happens to you, it’ll be my fault, Jason. You’ll be gone and it’ll be my fault, and I’ll be lost. Without you, I’ll never be able to find the light again—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear this—”

“No, listen to me. I can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t want to go back to being alone, not when I know now how it feels to be with you.”

“I’ll leave instructions,” Jason rushed to assure him. “I’ll tell them to get my cousins together, and you’ll be able to find out who can see you. Then you’ll have somebody—”

“But it won’t be you!”

“But . . . but . . .” Jason stammered for a compromise. “Even with me gone, you could keep on living. Somebody else might have better luck than me. They might know how to get you out.” He tried to pull Ben close, but Ben pushed him away.

“Stop! Don’t you see? Even if one of your cousins can see me, even if one of them cares enough to be my friend, I’ll never have this again!” He put one hand on each side of Jason’s face and leaned close to meet his eyes. “I’d rather die knowing you loved me than go on for an eternity knowing I killed you.”

A lump rose in Jason’s throat, and he pulled Ben close. He understood Ben’s request, and yet he couldn’t bear the thought of granting it. “Let’s talk about it later, please. We have all the time in the world on my side of the globe. We can fight about it there. But not here.” He held Ben tighter, rocking him and kissing his curls. “We have so little time here. I don’t want to spend it arguing.”

Ben didn’t pull away, but he didn’t relax in Jason’s arms either. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He laid Ben back on the bed again. “We’ll figure something out, I promise. But not now.” He ran his hand down Ben’s side, wanting to see Ben relax, but also wanting to do whatever he could to convince Ben to allow him another visit in the future. He teased his fingers up the inside of Ben’s thigh and brushed his lips over Ben’s in a gentle kiss. “I’d rather spend what time we have left making you smile. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.”

Ben’s expression softened, and he put his arms around Jason’s neck. “How much time do we have left?”

That was a good question. Jason glanced around, but of course there was no clock in the cabin. The light outside hadn’t changed. The fire hadn’t burned down. There was absolutely no way of knowing how much time had passed.

“I don’t know.” He didn’t want to wake up, but he turned his attention inward, feeling for some awareness of himself lying on the couch in his living room. Searching for some thread that told him how much time had passed, and yet hoping he didn’t rouse himself before their allotted time was up.

He sensed something—not a physical sensation of being on his couch or holding the globe or being asleep, but something . . .

A noise.

“I think my alarm’s going off.”

Ben sat up, pushing Jason off him, his eyes wide with alarm. “Then you need to wake up.”

Jason shook his head, trying to concentrate on that incessant beeping. Or was it a pounding? “I’ve never slept through the alarm before.”

“But you were only coming in for twenty minutes at a time. This time, you set it for fifty.” He chewed his lip with worry. “I’m going to go check.”

He went still, his focus drifting inward as he projected himself outside the globe, but only for a moment. He popped back into motion, looking more alarmed than ever. “Jason, there’s something terrible happening! You have to wake up! You have to—”

Crash!

Jason sat bolt upright on the couch as his front door flew open. He was sleep-addled, but adrenaline kicked in hard when Dylan and Sheriff Ross both came barreling into his living room.

“What the hell?”

“Jason!” Dylan grabbed him and yanked him off the couch. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead.”

“I was sleeping!” He had just enough awareness to check his pants, but it seemed that this time, his orgasm in the globe hadn’t resulted in ejaculation in the real world. At least he didn’t have a drying cum stain between his legs. He tucked the snow globe protectively against his side, hoping Dylan wouldn’t see it. He caught a glimpse of Ben standing wide-eyed in the corner of the room. Dylan and Sheriff Ross watched him, their expressions dark with worry. “I was napping, that’s all.”

“He’s okay!” the sheriff yelled at somebody outside. “Just hang back for now.”

“Who are you talking to?” Jason pushed Dylan away and went to the open front door. An ambulance sat next to Sheriff Ross’s and Dylan’s cars, its emergency lights flashing. Two paramedics stood halfway up the drive, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “What the hell, Dylan?”

And in that instant, the pain hit, like a knife stabbing into the base of his skull.

“Shit!” Jason doubled over, clamping his hand to his head. “How long was I in there?”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“No, I don’t. It’s just a headache.”

“Jason, you tried to kill yourself—”

“What?” He stared up at Dylan in shock, his head pounding. “I was napping!”

“I’ve been pounding on the door for twenty minutes! I could hear your alarm going off.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t have set my alarm if I was trying to kill myself, would I?”

“I could see you through the window and you weren’t moving! And then there’s this.” Dylan held up the bottle of sleeping tablets Jason had left on the coffee table. “What was I supposed to think?”

The pain in Jason’s head spiked again, and he winced, gritting his teeth. “I’m sorry I scared you, but now you know I’m fine. You can go.”

Dylan and Sheriff Ross glanced at each other, looking apprehensive, as if they shared a guilty secret.

“What?” Jason practically yelled. His head was killing him. He needed a handful of ibuprofen, a hot shower, and then his bed, not a circus in his living room.

“Jason,” Dylan said, his voice low and excruciatingly reasonable, “you need to let us take you to the hospital.”

“No, I don’t. I’m fine.” Except he wasn’t fine. Not only did his head hurt, but he was starting to feel dizzy. The floor seemed to be tilting slightly under his feet. “Now that you know I wasn’t trying to kill myself, you may as well go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you agree to come with us. And not until . . .” Dylan licked his lips nervously. “Not until you give me that globe.”

Jason’s heart burst into overdrive. He hugged the globe protectively against him, blinking against the black and red that was beginning to cloud his vision. “I can’t do that. I’ll never do that! I want you to leave—”

“Jason,” Sheriff Ross said, “you’re not well. Anyone can see that.”

At that moment, it was true. The world shifted, Jason’s equilibrium suddenly changing poles, and he fell to one knee, cradling his head in one hand, the globe in the other. “I’m not crazy!”

The sheriff and Dylan both came toward him, vying for space in the narrow hallway, and Jason scrambled to his feet and retreated the only way he could—out the open front door. He fell down the veranda steps and scrambled to his feet, backing out of their reach. “I don’t need your help!” He staggered through the snow toward the paramedics, his feet burning from the cold. He was vaguely aware of Ben following him too, his eyes dark with worry, his lips moving in a desperate, silent plea. “I won’t let them take you.”

“Sir?” one of the paramedics asked, clearly thinking Jason was talking to them. “Do you need assistance?”

“No! You can leave. I’m fine.”

He’d reached the loose rocks of his drive. They were warmer than the snow had been, but painfully jagged, shifting precariously beneath his bare feet, but he kept moving, angling between the ambulance and the sheriff’s car, not knowing where he was going except away from Dylan. Away from the sheriff. Away from the pain that seemed to be splitting his head in two. Ben stood off to the side, wringing his hands, his image flickering fitfully in the strobing red and blue lights of the ambulance.

“Jason, please,” Dylan pleaded, following him. “This is for your own good. Let them take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need a hospital!”

“Okay,” Dylan soothed. “Okay. If you give me the globe, I’ll tell the paramedics to go away.”

“You can’t take it!” The pain hit again, and Jason fell to his knees, his head spinning. “You can’t take Ben! He’d be alone, don’t you see?”

Dylan and Sheriff Ross traded another knowing glance, and Jason’s anger surged. He pushed himself to his feet, fought to stay standing, to keep from swaying as the ground buckled. “I’m not crazy!”

“You may not be crazy,” Dylan said, slowly stepping toward him, his hands held up, “but you’re not well, Jason. You have to see that.”

“Why can’t you go away and leave us alone?”

“‘Us’? Jason, there is no ‘us.’ There’s only you.” Dylan reached for him. “If you’ll let me help you—”

“Get away from me!” Jason pushed him away with his right hand, holding the globe cradled against him with his left. “Just because you can’t see him—”

“There’s nobody to see!”

“—doesn’t mean he’s not real!”

Dylan reached for him again. Jason tried to push him away, but he had only one free hand, his footing was shifty and unsteady, and his head was pounding. He felt dampness on his upper lip, tasted blood on his tongue. He wiped his nose, and stared down in surprise at the red mess on his fingers. When had he started bleeding?

“Jason, let us help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

The ground tilted dangerously beneath his feet again. Dylan caught him, and Jason pushed him away a third time. But this time, Dylan hadn’t been reaching for him. He’d been reaching for the globe. He wrenched it from Jason’s hand. A few yards away, Ben quit wringing his hands, only to clap them over his mouth.

“Give it back!” Jason screamed.

“This is all in your head. If you’ll come to the hospital—”

“Fuck you!” He threw the words at Dylan, loathing him more at that moment than he ever had in their ten years of friendship. “I hate you!”

“I know,” Dylan said, suddenly not yelling at all, but lowering his voice into something heartbreakingly gentle. “But I love you.”

And before Jason could react at all, Dylan raised the snow globe over his head. Jason knew what he was going to do.

“No!”

But he couldn’t get there in time. He had one final glimpse of Ben, his eyes wide with horror before Dylan slammed the globe down onto the rocky driveway. It landed with a sickening thud, and Ben’s spectral image winked out of existence.

“No!” Jason lunged for it, falling to his hands and knees as his equilibrium shifted and the pain surged again in his head. He had to crawl the last couple of feet.

The globe seemed to be intact, and yet Ben was nowhere to be seen. Jason reached for the globe, his hands shaking. He felt dampness on his fingertips as he turned it to look for damage.

An inch away from the globe’s apex, a single star-like fracture marred the glass. One point of the star had spread, the crack arching toward the globe’s base. Water oozed slowly through the jagged fracture.

“Ben!” Jason screamed, looking around, waiting for Ben to appear. “Where are you?”

The flashing lights from the ambulance on one side and the sheriff’s car on the other continued splashing over them—red, blue, red, blue—and a sob tore from Jason’s chest. Losing Ben was more than he could take.

“Jason,” Dylan said, gently putting his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “It’s over.”

“You killed him!” But just as he said it, Ben winked back into existence.

“Ben!”

But Jason’s relief was short-lived. Ben was clearly in trouble. He was screaming, his image flickering fitfully as he fought to project himself outside the globe through whatever pain consumed him. Jason turned the key on reflex. “Ben, are you okay?”

Ben’s image flickered as he doubled over, falling to the ground, reaching his hand toward Jason. “Help me.”

And then he was gone again.

“No! Oh God, Ben.” Jason cradled the globe, feeling more helpless than ever, his mind racing.

“Jason,” Dylan said again, reaching toward the globe. “Let me have it.”

“Mr. Walker,” Sheriff Ross started to say, “if you’ll let us take you—”

“Get away from me!”

They each backed up a bit, stepping close to each other to confer, and Jason hunched over the globe, trying to think. Trying to come up with a plan. The words etched into the base of the globe seemed to taunt him. SHAKE GLOBE. The first two letters may have been scratched almost to the point of being illegible, but the simple instructions brought tears to Jason’s eyes. The last thing he wanted was to shake it now. He needed to get inside. He needed to save Ben. But the only way to do that was to fall asleep, and that wasn’t possible. Even if Dylan and the sheriff and the paramedics left him in peace, he didn’t have time. Whatever was happening to Ben was happening now, as the world fell apart on Jason’s rocky driveway. There was no time to waste. But what could he do?

“Get him up,” Sheriff Ross said quietly to the paramedics. “I think we’ll need to sedate him.”

Would that do it? If he let them drug him, would he fall asleep? But no, certainly Dylan would take the globe. Jason debated trying to bargain, telling the sheriff he’d go quietly if only she’d keep the globe safe, but there was no time. Even as he debated it, Ben winked back into sight for a mere second, his face contorted with pain, one hand gripping his chest, the other held toward Jason. Help me.

“Sir,” one of the paramedics said, laying his hand on Jason’s arm. “Please. Just let us take you to the hospital.”

He needed more time, and he didn’t have it. He pressed his fingers over the crack, trying to staunch the flow of water oozing like blood from a wound. He turned the key, as he begged and cried. “Ben! Can you hear me? Oh God, Ben—”

He felt the paramedics’ hands under his arms. They lifted him to his feet, and as they did, the scratched instructions on the bottom seemed to shift. The strobing lights of the ambulance flashed from his left, and the lights from the sheriff’s car hit him from the right. The faint but eternal glow of the stars Ben loved so much bathed them from overhead. And between them all, the scratches over the S and H were suddenly clear.

And they weren’t the result of any clumsy accident.

He remembered Ben’s words.

“Sarah was terrible at spelling.”

“If she’d thought to leave directions, they would have been crystal clear.”

He’d been right on both counts.

Jason laughed. Or maybe he cried. As the paramedics pulled him inexorably toward the ambulance, as Dylan and Sheriff Ross both blathered meaningless platitudes, telling him it was for the best, everything would be okay if only he let them help, Jason took a gamble. He sent one fleeting prayer toward Ben’s stars that he wasn’t wrong. Then he broke free of the paramedics—

And he smashed the globe to the ground with all his might.

This time it shattered. Jason barely had time to recognize the fact before the shockwave hit, silent but brutal. It bowled over him like a Mack truck, throwing him back several feet and driving the wind from his lungs. His head slammed into the door of Dylan’s rental car, and he fell to the ground, his ears ringing. His impact against the car had triggered its alarm. It bleated incessantly. The ambulance lights continued their sickening strobe, flashing red and blue, red and blue. Jason glanced around and saw that he wasn’t the only who’d been affected. Everybody was on the ground.

“What the fuck?” one of the paramedics said as he climbed shakily to his feet. “What the hell was that?”

A new, acute pain had been added to Jason’s horror. Something both cold and hot tricked down the back of his neck. Reaching back, he found stickiness. His hand came away covered in blood. The world tottered again as he staggered to his feet.

“Holy Jesus!” somebody shouted. “Terry, get over here!”

It was one of the paramedics, screaming to his partner as he ran toward—

Toward Ben.

He was on his knees right where the globe had broken, one hand holding his chest. His eyes were locked on Jason, his lips moving. A single word Jason had long ago learned to lip-read—his own name. Jason. But just like before, there was no sound. Ben’s head jerked back, his spine wrenching, his fingers clawing futilely at his chest as the first medic reached him.

“Convulsions! Get the gear,” the man yelled at his partner. “He’s not breathing!”

Jason tried to run, but the world was spinning more than ever. His vision was blurry and his legs felt like rubber. He made it only two steps before he fell.

Almost fell.

Dylan caught him, his face ghostly white, his wide eyes glued on the paramedic, who had started compressions on Ben’s chest. Jason reached out and managed to catch the arm of the second paramedic as he ran past.

“He has asthma.”

“What kind of medicine does he take?”

“None.” And then, seeing the paramedic’s disbelief, he blurted out the first explanation that came to him. “His parents didn’t believe in doctors.”

The man nodded. “We’ll take care of him.” And then he was gone.

Jason’s vision started to go black. He couldn’t focus on anything but the pain in his head. He was back in Ben’s cabin, his alarm blaring. “Don’t wake up yet,” he pleaded with himself. “I don’t want to wake up.”

He sank to the ground. Realized halfway there he hadn’t been standing for a while. It was Dylan sinking to the ground, lowering Jason as gently as he could, his eyes dark with anguish and worry as he cradled Jason’s head in his hand.

“You’re bleeding a lot.”

“I don’t want to wake up.”

“Try to stay conscious, okay? You need a paramedic too.”

“After Ben,” Jason said. “Ben first.”

“Okay,” Dylan said. He was crying. Even as consciousness faded, Jason was stunned to realize it.

Dylan was crying.

“Okay,” Dylan said. “I promise. Ben first.”