Chapter 2: Confusion in the Woods

The morning sun had barely crested the treetops when Michael awoke with a start, torn from uneasy dreams. Rubbing his tired eyes, he gazed around the familiar four walls of his childhood bedroom as memories of the previous day's ordeal came flooding back—being ambushed in the woods, the jeers and punches raining down, and Jack's kind yet worried face as he helped Michael limp home afterwards. A shudder ran through him.

He knew he was lucky to escape with only bruises this time. But it had been a stark reminder that his friendship with Jack was seen as something unnatural and shameful by others, no matter how right it felt. And he knew in his heart of hearts that there was deeper affection blossoming there, whether he dared acknowledge it or not. Michael sighed and dragged himself from bed, hoping a walk in the peaceful woods might clear his muddled thoughts.

The morning mist still clung to the forest floor as Michael trod lightly along the well-worn dirt path, listening to birds singing their songs high above in the canopy. He inhaled the crisp air, letting nature's tranquility soothe his frazzled nerves. Rounding a bend, movement up ahead caught his eye. Michael froze, heart leaping into his throat, as another figure came into view–it was Jack, sitting alone on a large fallen log overlooking the river.

Jack didn't notice Michael's presence at first, too occupied with sketching fervently in his ever-present notebook. Michael studied him covertly from the shadows, drinking in his gentle profile, the play of sunlight through his golden hair. Jack filled him with an indescribable yet achingly familiar warmth, yet the mere idea of losing that friendship to gossip and intolerance cut Michael to his core. How he wished things could simply remain as they were between them, and yet, he knew that was impossible now.

Gathering his courage, Michael emerged from the trees. Jack glanced up with a start, cheeks coloring as their eyes met." M-Michael. I hadn't expected to see you out so early". A shy smile tugged at his lips, and Michael's resolve wavered under its glow. He shuffled closer slowly, perching at the opposite end of the log with a respectable distance between them, fighting the urge to lean in as they often did. Jack's smile faded as he took in Michael's rumpled attire. "Are you alright? Did they–-"

"I'm fine", Michael replied swiftly, plucking restlessly at a hangnail. Just needed some air, is all. They sat in loaded silence for a long moment, the rushing river below filling the space between. Michael took a steadying breath." Look, about yesterday... I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. I know folks will talk. "He failed to meet Jack's concerned gaze boring into his downturned face. "We shouldn't be seen together so much, for both our sakes. It's for the best."

Jack absorbed this quietly, then asked in a small voice, "Is that really what you want? Because it's not what I want. Michael. Please, look at me". Their eyes finally met, and Jack reached out tentative fingers to brush Michael's arm, sending a shockwave through his being. "I care not a whit what anyone says. All that matters is our happiness. If being friends no longer does so, then...then I cannot continue like this. The choice is yours. But please, do not push me away without true cause. "

Michael's breath caught in his chest at the raw emotion in Jack's words, the tender touch setting his skin afire. He knew with dreadful certainty then that his feelings extended far beyond mere friendship. Clenching his fists against the surge of longing and fear raging within, Michael leapt up and raced away along the riverbank without a backward glance, Jack's wounded cry fading behind him. He ran blindly, branches whipping his face, lungs burning for air–anything to outpace the turmoil in his soul.

Coming to a gasping halt at the edge of a large pool, Michael sank to his knees amid the reeds, fighting back hot tears. How could he face Jack again after this cowardly flight? And yet, being apart hurt even worse. Lost in his tumult, Michael didn't sense the shadow looming behind until a rough grip seized his arm, yanking him to his feet. He cried out and whirled to find Tom and two of his brutish friends sneering down at him menacingly. "Well well well, looks like the sissy faggot finally came out to play alone. Boys, I think it's time we taught him a lesson in being a real man."

Michael struggled wildly against their iron hold as they dragged him toward the water, panic lending new strength to his thrashing limbs. "No, please– "He was cut off with a punishing backhand across the face, colors exploding behind his eyes. Through the haze he saw Jack's crushingly disappointed expression as he turned and ran that morning. If only he'd stayed to explain, instead of acting the craven. Now it may be too late for anything to ever be made right between them again. With a heave, Michael was flung bodily into the unforgiving depths of the pool below.

The cold stole his breath as he sank like a stone, blinded by murky water. Michael kicked frantically toward what he prayed was the surface, lungs bursting, but which way was up? Blackness started crowding the edges of his vision." No, not like this, please God not like this... ",A shape registered dimly above, and strong hands grabbed his shirt, dragging him inexorably upward until–sweet, pure air slammed into his lungs once more. Michael gasped and coughed violently, clinging to his savior as the current bore them safely to shore. Blinking water from his eyes, he peered up into Jack's pale, drawn face above him, auburn hair plastered slick to his forehead. Had an angel of mercy come to his aid?

But there was no time to ponder further. Through the ringing in his ears Michael heard mocking jeers carrying across the water, and turned his head weakly to see Tom and the others guffawing on the opposite bank, making crude gestures. Before he could stop him, Jack lurched to his feet and waded back out with a roar, launching himself at the gathered bullies in a fury. Michael cried out in alarm but could only listen helplessly to the sodden impact of fists meeting flesh, grunts and curses flying, as the current pushed him farther downstream. At last all fell eerily still but for the rush of the river.

When Michael finally dragged himself ashore on shaking legs some distance downriver, he searched the foliage in a panic. Where was Jack? Had Tom and his gang overpowered him in vengeance? Stumbling through the undergrowth, he broke into a clearing just in time to see Jack emerge from the tree line alone on the opposite side, clothes hanging off him in tatters but otherwise unharmed. Their eyes met across the empty space, and an unspoken truce seemed to pass between them in that single gaze–their differences would remain buried, for nothing else truly mattered but each other's wellbeing from now on. Michael nodded in pained gratitude, and Jack returned it with a small, sad smile, before turning and vanishing once more into the forest depths.