TWO MONTHS LATER.

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The church is empty this early on Sunday morning, except for him. Casey brushes his fingers over the wood of the pews, quietly enjoying the solitude it provides him. He leans back, closing his eyes for a moment of respite.

The new church isn't quite as good as the old one, but Casey doesn't need golden pews and silver walls. All he needs is a quiet place to sit and pray. He sits up in his seat a little and, head bowed, begins to pray. In his right hand, he clutches his necklace - the silver one, with the cross on it. His lips move silently as he prays.

The weak, gray morning sunlight falls through the huge windows directly onto his back, turning his hair silver. Casey's eyes are closed, even after he finishes one prayer and seamlessly moves onto the next.

It's been close to ten minutes when the doors of the church creak as they open. But Casey doesn't look up. He doesn't even stop praying, even when he hears a soft thud followed by a curse. He doesn't let go of his necklace, even when the soft creak of wheels draws closer to him. He doesn't open his eyes, not even when the wheels stop right next to him. Not until he's done with his prayers. Not until then.

When he finally finishes, Casey remains motionless for a heartbeat longer. He finally looks up, slowly, at the man next to him. Jesse is smiling faintly, silently drumming his fingers on the wheels of his chair. A pale strip of skin shines on his finger, where the ring had used to be.

"Howdy, darlin," he says softly. Even though he's trying to be quiet, his voice echoes throughout the church. But he had never asked, and Jesse had never told. "You done?"

"Almost," Casey answers, just as quietly. "What are you doing here, Jesse? You're never awake this early."

Jesse grins, widely. "I wanted to show you something," he answers. "Lookit this." He isn't wearing shoes - he hasn't, for the past two months, but his feet are covered with this woolen socks. He pulls his pant leg back and then reaches down. Jesse pulls the sock off, revealing his bare foot.

Casey peers at his foot for a moment, then two, wondering what exactly Jesse wants him to see - and then his toes wiggle.

He stares in disbelief for a count of one, two, three. And then, slowly, he looks up at Jesse, who's beaming with such unrestrained happiness that tears spring to Casey's eyes.

"Oh, God, Jesse!" His voice is loud in the church, but Casey couldn't care less. All he cares about is Jesse, staring at his feet. He leans over and presses a kiss to his lips.

"Nicolas said there'd be a chance," Jesse says breathlessly, as Casey pulls away. He lets out a broken laugh, and nods.

"He did," he whispers, rubbing at his eyes. "That he did."

Jesse reaches out and takes Casey's hand. "I reckon that it worked out for us, didn't it?"

Casey can only nod as he squeezes Jesse's hand back. He stares up as he blinks his tears away, up at the plain ceiling of the church. Gently, he leans his head on Jesse's shoulder and closes his eyes.

"I love you, Jesse Jordan."

"And I love you, Casey Hawkes."  

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