I'm jumping genres like a mad sack race champion who has just stepped barefoot onto a pin, so be aware: This is angsty.
Um, forgot the disclaimer again. But believe me, there's no deeper meaning to this: I still don't own the Brothers Grimm.
The celebration party after they had saved the girls of Marbaden had been a big one. And Jake had liked it especially, because Angelica had smiled at him a lot and it had soon become clear that she wasn't really averse to the two of them getting to know each other a lot better. So the brothers had decided to stay in Marbaden for a while and under Jake's hot blush, a shy romance had been blooming.
So here he is now, walking her home.
"Any chance of you coming in and checking if there is something evil lurking under my bed?" the young woman asks teasingly.
And Jake agrees, somewhat nervously: "Um, all right."
Inside she pulls him into a kiss and then turns round and asks him to untie her dress.
Feeling suddenly very flustered Jake starts working the knots with clammy fingers and the more of the bare skin of her back becomes visible the more he feels … wrong.
All wrong. His body feels wrong, like a puppet, all lifeless and just governed by some alien force that isn't him at all.
And the room feels wrong, all stuffy, and blurry and surreal, like a set on the stage of a poor and thoroughly underfunded theatre group.
And the whole situation feels wrong, like a strange play he's watching and not taking part in himself, all unreal.
And suddenly the air tastes wrong and he just wants to be out of here.
He realizes that he's standing motionless when Angelika turns with a worried and a questioning expression on her face: "Jake? Something wrong?"
Everything.
"I'm sorry. I can't. I ... I can't. I'm sorry." he says and just leaves, deaf to Angelica crying after him and feeling all sick, hopeless and dreadful.
When he comes in, his brother looks at him in surprise: "Wow. That was quick."
"It wasn't." Jake mumbles, nearly inaudibly, shuffling out of his coat.
But Will doesn't let it slip: "What?"
"It wasn't, all right? It's over I guess. I couldn't …I found that my feelings for her aren't as strong as I thought."
Will gives a little chuckle: "Wow, Jake, always the gentleman, aren't you? Or just a hopeless romantic? If I only took the girls I had strong feelings for … but then I usually do have some very urgent feelings …"
Will can't see his brother's face, as he stands turning his back on him, but he does notice Jake's knuckles turning white where his hands grip the window sill. So speaking more empathetically, Will walks over to him. "Hey, Jake. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you're taking it so badly. Didn't you say you broke with her?"
"It's just … I've been hoping, … I was so sure, that this time it was for real, that it was going to work out, that I loved her sincerely." Jake doesn't look up while he is speaking, but his voice carries a painful sensation of self-reproach as if he's disappointed in himself, as if he feels that he has failed and Will's heart soars out for his brother, yearning to hold him close, to comfort him.
"Hey," Will pats the younger one's arm tenderly. "you're going to find the right person for you eventually. Don't take it so much to heart."
Jake's answer leaves his tongue unbidden, originally meant to be nothing more substantial than a thought, but biting his insides with acid teeth, so's he lets it dribble out to just get rid of it: "What if I found the right one, only it's the wrong one, but it's the only one, you know, and there won't ever be anyone else for me?"
Will is stunned by what he hears for a moment, but then pours out more questions: "What do you mean? Who is it? Do I know her? Why, you should win her over of course!"
Jake's head moves slowly from left to right and back again. 'Shaking' is too harsh a word for that movement. "No, that's not going to happen. I won't ever win this person over …"
This only serves to feed Will's curiosity: "Oh come on Jake, who is it?"
Jake squirms, hunching up even more on himself as he recognizes where this is leading: "Don't ask. I can't …Just leave it, please."
But Will isn't about to let go: "Come on, you know you can tell me."
"No. No, really, I can't."
That reaction surprises Will and even hurts him a little: "Jake, hey, I'm your brother. You can tell me everything. Don't you trust me?"
"Please, Will …" Jake begs, his tone pleading to be let of the hook.
But instead it only reinforces Will's readiness to dig on: "Hey, I don't like to see you like this. Just tell me and we'll find a way, ok? Together, eh?" He gives his brother a confident smile. "You know, a problem shared is a problem halved …"
And then something inside Jake snaps and he turns round, finally looking at his brother as he can't hold the words back that break out of him involuntarily, like a pot that's been left on the stove and boiling over: "Oh stop it, Will! You're always so … sure of yourself. You think you know everything. You think you know the solution to everything. But you don't know nothing really. Nothing, you hear? It's you. It's always been you. Now how is that going to be all right, he?"
Jake's vision darkens, as Will is staring at him, wide-eyed, speechless, and the silence screams in his ears.
It is this cruel moment, when you suddenly realize you said something out loud and it's too late to take it back and nothing is ever going to make it right again. And the world tumbles down on you. And you're dead. You're dead although you're still breathing and walking around, which is incidentally a stupid thing to do when you're dead. So you'd better stop.
And swaying just a little, Jake walks out.
He walks out and into the night, on and on until he reaches the river and here he sits down, as close to the cold water as possible.
He feels like crying but the tears won't come.
He just feels numb, callous and stiff all over, but that's probably right when you're dead.
So he just sits, freezing, numb, trying not to think, trying to stop breathing.
"Jake."
And suddenly there's Will's arms around him from behind.
Here is Will, sitting behind him, leaning his head down on Jake's shoulders, holding him as if he fears Jake's going to fall into the river if he loosens his grip ever so slightly. "I was so frightened." he says. "Don't leave me."
'Smart Will.' Jake thinks as his frozen limbs recognize the fabric brushing against them. 'He's brought a coat.' But then Will is alive and it makes sense that he tries to keep his body warm. Whereas he, Jake, is dead and should be cold by rights. Dead bodies have no body warmth.
Eventually Will pulls back, sitting down next to his brother, staring at his hands and then at Jake. "I don't know what to … I have no idea, I just …I … I mustn't loose you. I can't." he offers feebly.
Jake stares back at him, trying to find something to say to that. "It hurts." is all he finally manages, his voice breaking, but his eyes still dry.
"I know." Will says, gripping him again, this time from the front, gripping Jake's arms and leaning his forehead against Jake's, whispering feveredly: "I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know. I know."
'I know.' Jake muses. 'Is that as good as saying …?'
And then there are Will's lips on his neck, on his cheeks, finding his lips, kissing him hard, fiercely.
Although he doesn't like to admit it, even to himself, Jake has been thinking about kissing Will before. And he never imagined it to be anything like this. Somehow he has always thought it to be enjoyable, in a guilty kind of way, all right, but enjoyable. He never imagined it to be so raw, so desperate, so feeling horrible all over but still being unable to stop.
And he feels a cold lump of sickness crawl around in his stomach.
And then Will pulls his face away from his, but pulls his body closer, holding onto him in the same kind frantic despair, as if some heinous and merciless fate was trying to pull them apart.
And so they lie, holding on to each other, silently.
After what seems like ages, Jake feels himself drifting into sleep and catches himself wishing that they won't wake up again, because what are they going to do then?