A Timeless Place

Mr. Preston gazed long into Jon's eyes after hearing from his own mouth that he had recently been seeing his uncle. Breaking his stare, he glanced up at the balcony once more wondering what they had thought about this, or if Jonathan had even told them.

"Joshua, please don't make me feel silly or crazy. I'm serious about this." Jon tried to keep his cool and not grab the man's arm, as he wanted to do.

"It's fine, Jon. You don't need to worry about it. It's all probably nothing more than a subconscious desire hidden deep inside you that you may not even realize just now," he looked back at Jonathan giving him a smile as best he could. "You haven't told them, have you?"

"No." Jonathan moved closer to the car and away from Mr. Preston.

"Jonathan." The man followed him, urgent to express his meaning. "You can't hide this from them if they care for you as I suspect they do. Let them help you carry this, at least. It's a burden you don't need to pack around on your own, son."

"I can't worry them with this, Joshua. They would probably think I'm nuts anyway. They already think I'm crazy for even grieving over Jim like I am," he turned to face the man speaking low so those upstairs couldn't hear him.

"Have you talked to this apparition?" Mr. Preston asked now.

"No! What, do

you

think I'm crazy too? Hell no, I ain't talked to it." Jonathan started out loudly, then quieted his voice cringing that he had most likely alerted Tony to them, who by now, had disappeared from the balcony.

Mr. Preston opened the passenger's side door turning to Jonathan as Tony came out the front door of the mansion. He shrugged "Maybe you should..." his grin and wink told Jonathan that he was joking, yet serious.

Jonathan laughed as he watched Mr. Preston close his door. Backing away, he looked on, as the car slowly move around the drive and back down the path to the main road at the end.

"You didn't tell him, Mr. Preston." The driver asked as he drove them out of sight of Jonathan and Tony.

"He's not ready, Charles. When he is I'll tell him, but not a moment before." Mr. Preston became suddenly irritable.

The driver only nodded in answer leaving his thoughts to himself.

Tony's gentle hand brought him back to reality being placed on his shoulder. "You about ready to eat, or do I have to force feed you again?" The man fussed teasingly.

Jonathan turned to him grinning, "That might be fun. Can I resist just a little?"

"Hmm." The man grinned wryly at him. "Are you possibly wantin' some attention, or is that your hand in your pocket, I see?"

"No, not my hand, Tony. But, you know that, don't you?" Jonathan's expression seemed to suddenly fade to a more serious look.

"Yes, Jonathan. And you know I'm always ready when you are." The man surrounded him in his arms planting his lips to the young man's abruptly.

Jonathan moaned at the feel of Tony's power and control over him. He thrilled in the sensations he felt as the man's one hand clutched the back of his head, the other firmly moving down his back and over his bottom. There it pressed him taut to him while he plundered Jonathan's mouth with mastery and urgency. Leaning forward a bit, Jonathan allowed his arms to dangle giving his lover the sense of utter control over him, which he knew would heighten Tony's experience even more. The trust between them was all that kept Jonathan from hanging onto the man for dear life.

As abruptly as he began, he clinched a handful of hair yanking Jonathan's head back. Staring into his face for a moment he could see the young man was up for some rough treatment, at which he would gladly oblige. Pulling him up straight with him, he forced him ahead of him while he pushed him to move toward the door by the hair.

"Get yer ass upstairs, boy. You an' me got somethin' to talk about." His tone was gruff and brash.

Jonathan giggled at his authority, only to rouse him more.

"Yer laughing at me?" He suddenly halted, jerking Jonathan back to his body grasping his lower jaw tight, his fingers biting into his flesh meanly. "You think this is funny? You just wait till I get you upstairs, boy. You won't think it's so funny then."

"Oh, I hope not, Tony." Jonathan boldly let him know what he really wanted with his emphasis and the seriousness in his tone and expression.

"Well hell, baby. If you needed it that bad, you only had to say so." Tony's breathing elevated slightly at the daring way Jonathan was staring at him. It was as if he would defy him to go further than they had ever gone in the many times they had simulated a rape, or just played the master/slave role with each other. Tony had always been cautious with Jonathan, not wanting to injure him, or cause him pain, or at least more pain than he could stand. But, now it seemed Jonathan would challenge him to go beyond that with him now.

"I won't hurt you, Jonathan." He warned.

"Did I ask you to?" The young man fired back quickly.

Tony's eyes narrowed at the mixed signals Jonathan was sending him now. Knowing the young man the way he did, he surmised he was only playing this game to incite him further.

"Get up those stairs, boy." He finally shoved Jonathan ahead, still grasping a handful of hair tight. Jonathan moved quickly up toward the door, pushing it open, starting toward the banister.

"Oh, my." Forrest halted in his tracks coming from the south wing. "Sir!" he called out to Tony in exasperation of what he saw and his deep concern for Master Jonathan.

"Its fine, Forrest. We're just playing a game, ok?" Jonathan quickly assured him that no harm was being done. At the moment, Tony was keeping Jonathan an arm length away pushing him up the steps to the second floor with haste.

"Are you sure, sir?" The man needed more affirmation than was given at the moment.

"I promise, Forrest. It's only a game. Nothing to worry about." Jonathan couldn't look back at the man, but followed the lead of Tony's rough guidance that didn't seem to care that Forrest was upset by the sight of this. They disappeared into the south wing of the second floor, away from Mr. Bowman's old room and the family.

"Sir, we haven't finished preparing that wing!" Forrest called up to them from where they stood.

"It's fine, Forrest." He heard Jonathan call back to him. Shrugging, the man then went on about his business.

Tony led him to the room he used to reside in when he was working undercover there. Pushing the door open hard, he shoved Jonathan toward the sheet covered room. Everything had been covered once news of Mr. Bowman's death had reached the help. Supposing that it might be a long while before anyone would reside there again, the servants had gone about each room covering mirrors, furniture and the like. They locked up the walk-in freezer and the refrigerator was practically cleaned out. They presumed there was no sense in leaving good vegetables and such to rot.

Jonathan kept his footing, barely, standing straight and would have turned to face his lover of the moment when Mr. Bowman caught his eye in a corner near the closet. This was a room the man had frequented when Tony lived here before and it stood to reason; Jonathan would see him there now.

He gasped coming up on his toes as he caught himself teetering forward once more. When he caught his balance again, he stood staring at the man in the corner long. Again, he was the same as he had seen him in his coffin, wearing the dark olive green Italian suit he had been buried in. Yet, his eyes were open and he smiled at Jonathan, standing in the corner as if he had never died.

Tony halted suddenly as Jonathan gasped; he reached for him, as he appeared to almost fall face foreword to the floor. Then as the young man steadied himself, he watched as every ounce of color faded from Jonathan's face.

"What's wrong, Jonathan?" He muttered to him slowly coming up close behind him.

"What do you want from me?" Jonathan bellowed at the empty corner that Tony had looked at following the direction of his stare.

"Jonathan!" Tony reached for his shoulder just as he spun taking to a run out the door they had come in. He glanced back at the corner squinting to see if he could see anything there, but saw nothing. What had Jonathan seen that was now upsetting him so? Then the sudden thought of Jonathan's upset possibly driving him to do something more than dangerous to himself if not foolish at that, forced him to ignore whatever it had been that upset him.

He raced after him not seeing the direction he had gone in. Jonathan had disappeared completely by the time he made it to the balcony over the foyer. Rushing ahead, he crashed open the doors of the room the rest of them were in and ran out onto the balcony.

"Jonathan saw something in my old room! Now he's loose in the mansion. I need help to find him fast!" he voiced breathlessly.

"What on earth could he have seen, Tony?" Greg asked standing to his feet.

"I have no idea, but he yelled at whatever it was." He shrugged feeling a little helpless to explain it to them.

"What did he yell, Tony?" Peter asked then, very calmly doing so.

"He said, 'what do you want from me'!" Tony answered in the same way Jonathan had made the outcry.

"Who is he talking to, Peter?" Greg looked to him for confirmation of his suspicions.

"I would deduce that it would be his uncle." Peter sedately answered.

"Hm." Greg nodded at the same moment Bruce groaned to himself as he stood.

"Let's find the boy and see if we can manage to get some straight answers from him."

"Bruce, you cannot push him. Trust me on this, my friend." Peter placed an assuring hand on his shoulder as they moved toward the door.

The man nodded, then parted ways with him to search the entire mansion for Jonathan.

*****

Jonathan bounded down the stairs to the alcove between the two banisters. Pressing a certain spot on the wall a short small door popped open. Bending down, he stepped into the secret passageway that led to what had once been his own room. Closing the door and with no lighting in the cramped space, he carefully made his way down the sloped floor to the opening to the right. He groped at the wall for the doorknob for a moment before he turned it stepping into his tiny space of a room.

Flipping the switch, he could see the servants hadn't touched it since he left. The bed against the far wall to the right was still mussed from its last use. The chest of drawers on his immediate left still had his radio and cassette player sitting atop it where he left it. Pressing the play button an old familiar song by Pink Floyd began to play that added to the desperate emotions he felt at the moment.

Moving past the chest of drawers he opened the far door going into his even smaller bathroom. He looked in the mirror at himself for a moment seeing the strained look of worry written there on his face. With both hands he grasped the mirror/medicine cabinet pulling it forward a bit. Out fell a tiny syringe and baggie, along with a razor.

Hordes of thoughts were pummeling him at the moment. He was warring with most of them at the sight of the petite baggie and syringe. It had slipped his mind they had been stashed there, the razor being his goal of the moment alone. Yet, he stood there staring at the sight in the sink below the cabinet. Shoving it back into place, he reached with trembling hands. The first he lifted from the basin was the syringe.

"Jonathan." He heard close behind him. The sense of warmth flooded him at the soft sound of his uncle's gentle voice. "You know that's not what you need, my love." Now, the feel of his arms surrounding him followed. "This is all you need." He breathed into his ear.

"Why are you here, Uncle Jim? Why do I keep seeing you? You're dead!" his muttering voice quivered with his emotions.

"Hmm..." he could literally feel the man resting his cheek on the top of his head beginning to sway with him gently. "Oh, I just need to fix a few things is all, my love. Now, put that away and come lie down with me." He coaxed in his soft manner when he wanted something from Jonathan.

The young man's hands trembled even more as he attempted to place them back in their hiding place. Once he had crudely done so, he felt his hand being grasped lovingly and watched as what appeared to be the solid form of Jim led him into the tiny room. They maneuvered to the bed where he settled, pulling Jonathan there with him. The young man was hesitant, but complied with Jim's wishes, not sure what he meant to do. As he came near, the man curled his arms about him lightly combing the loose strands of hair from his face with his fingers. Then he continued to caress his cheek, lulling him. Jonathan struggled to remain awake under his gentle ministrations, but it was to no avail. He soon was fast asleep in Jim's arms cuddled against the far wall.

*****

That was where Tony finally found him, fast asleep in his old room on his bed. He was curled against the far wall in a ball seeming to almost hug his knees to his chest. It seemed an odd position for him to be in, but he was there like that none the less. He moved past the bed to the bathroom to see if he could find any bloodstains of any kind. What he did find was the medicine cabinet barely in the wall. Playing with it for a moment, the contraband spilled into the sink.

The man groaned long and angrily to himself as he turned toward the room where Bruce now stood staring at the young man.

"Come look at this, Bruce." He softly beckoned to him so as not to wake Jonathan.

Bruce brushed past the chest of drawers almost side stepping to get past it. Following Tony into the bathroom, the man sat on the toilet looking up at him as Bruce's face became washed of color.

"That could've been here before, Tony." He commented, not wanting to believe what he was implying.

"But the cabinet has been pulled out, Bruce. I know this kid, okay? Remember that."

"I know him too, Tony. And I refuse to believe he would, not before asking him first. If I can see he's lying, I'll believe it then. But not before." He grumbled quietly."

"You're right. I guess I'm just looking for a reason to why he's seeing things now." Tony lowered his head.

"He's grieving, Tony. There's some things he misses about his uncle that you or I may never understand. But we have to support him, no matter what." Bruce explained gently. He placed a kind hand on the man's shoulder giving it an assuring squeeze. "Should we let him sleep?" he asked then.

"I don't know. Maybe until dinner, he still hasn't eaten yet." Tony expressed quietly.

"Okay, let's put this back in its place. No." he gathered the items up holding them carefully. "Let's not do that. I can use some precautions." A gentle smile graced his face as he and Tony moved out of the bathroom and then the room.

*****

Jonathan stirred slowly hearing a noise from somewhere in the room. Turning onto his back he looked to see Tony pulling out drawers emptying them on the bed, then replacing the drawers right after.

"What are you doin', Tony!" he sat up immediately flummoxed that he would be going through his personal belongings without asking.

"This is not your room anymore, Jon. Bruce told me to empty out your stuff and bring it all upstairs," he continued to work as he talked.

"Oh, ok. Let me help you with that." Jonathan moved off the bed to the floor beside him.

"No, you march yer ass upstairs and eat yer dinner like a good little boy." Tony turned to face him fully his hands parked on his hips. "Now, young man!" he then turned his back to the chest pointing to the door with a large grin on his face.

"Yes, sir. But..."

"No buts kid. Dad's orders. You have to go up as soon as you woke up," the man informed him gently then.

"Oh, all right..." Jonathan now appeared the part of a scolded child as he leaned his head forward pressing past the man. Their bodies came into full contact as he did, in which Tony grasped his face in his hands connecting their mouths fully.

This kiss was urgently long. Jonathan clung to him desperately as he turn, following Tony's lead. And when the young man's back was to the door, he pulled back from the kiss staring into his face.

"I love you, Jonathan. I know things are a little hard and strange for you right now, but you remember that I and everyone else here loves you desperately. You have no reason to do anything rash when you're upset, you hear? Talk to us. We want to hear what's going on inside that head of yers." He jabbed his finger at Jonathan's head poking it lightly.

"Tony, if I told you half of what goes on inside my head, you'd lock me up in the loony bin-"

"We would not, Jonathan. That's a lie from hell itself. Don't you think all of us don't have strange thoughts pop into our minds now and then? But we have to take it all with a grain of salt and weight them against the facts before we act on them. Everyone thinks something weird or different once in a while. Why do you think Columbus had so much trouble getting the world to believe he wasn't insane when he announced the world was round? And they thought Einstein was pretty weird too, at the time, you know."

Jonathan laughed, "Well, I'm not Columbus or Einstein, so I have to take what I can get."

"What's that s'posed to mean, Jonathan? You have everything right here at yer fingertips, or have we all taken second place in yer life now?" Tony's face was strained with obvious hurt that Jonathan couldn't bare to look into.

Jonathan turned away starting for the door, "Tony, the day you guys take second place in my life is the day I die, you hear me?" he turned to the man saying as he reached the threshold. Then he disappeared leaving the man to do what he as asked to do.