The night was still as death.

Penner slid his arm across the bed as a shiver shot through his body. He grasped the sheets. The bed was empty.

Fear gripped his chest and ripped him from his rest. It coursed through his veins as he prepared to erupt from his bed and storm the street.

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Chess. "Chess?" he began.

His lover was perched on the end of the bed, peering into the night like a vulture, his long, solid frame frozen against the night.

"Chess, what are you--"

Penner stretched out, but the second he touched Chess, it happened-

Like a spark bright enough to illuminate the entire room. A blast of heat that felt like they'd been dipped into a furnace, before being plunged into ice water. It was a thunderclap before deafening silence. It was only a moment, but it was enough.

Penner recoiled, thrown back onto the bed. Chess leapt through his skin and cleared the bed, landing in front of the open window with a grace that he'd never shown before. He whipped his attention back to Penner and blinked before recognising him. A wave of confusion washed over his face. His breath was rapid and shallow.

"Holy! I'm--Gods, I don't even--" Chess began, his speech rapid and incoherent, his eyes wide and wild.

"Chess? What was that?" Penner asked.

He looked down, realising that his hand was pulsing in pain. It felt like he'd slapped a fire. He looked from it to Chess and realised that he wasn't paying attention. Chess paced the room like a caged animal. His frame, though strong and tall, was shivering. His sharp, narrow features scanned the room, looking for distractions Penner couldn't see.

"Chess? Are YOU--"

"I have to leave!" Chess yelled. At first Penner was scared that Chess would wake the neighbours, but Chess didn't appear to care.

"Chess," he began. His throat was dry. "I know this place isn't--" He chose his words carefully. "Safe for us, but we can't just--" Chess held up his hand to silence Penner with a strange confusion, before bursting into laughter. He embraced Penner.

"We. We have to go. You need to come with me, I think. Or at least you should," Chess said, pushing Penner onto the bed and climbing on top of him. His face beamed with a smile that made him look drunk as coherence danced in and out of his face. His perfect teeth glistened, and for a moment Penner saw stars in his eyes.

They kissed before Chess winked at him and bounded to the closet.

"For a moment I thought you meant that you were--" Penner began, but stopped himself. He lay there for a moment, basking in the warmth that still radiated off their bed. It smelled like them. As he lay there, he ran through the words Chess had just said. He peeled his head off the bed and watched as Chess stuffed clothing into a satchel.

"Did you have a bad dream, or something?"

"No. Not a bad dream. A good dream. The best dream," he said as he clung to a ragged shirt with one hand, and a torn pair of pants with the other.

"Those are my pants."

"I need them. We need them," Chess said as he threw them into the bag that was almost bursting. "We need to pack light, though. Here." He threw Penner a small bag, which he caught before it slammed into his face. "Grab only what you need--we need. The toothbrushes, your pen. Oh! Bring your journal. You'll want it."

"Chess, what's going on?" Penner said, peeling himself off the bed and wrestling the bag out of Chess's hands. Chess looked at him, confused.

"I told you." "No. You didn't."

"I didn't? I swear I--"

Penner gripped Chess's face, squishing his cheeks into his lips with his palms.

"Words. Use your words." Chess shook his head free and grabbed Penner's hands in his.

"Penner, I need you to listen to me. We don't have much time and I can't spend it talking to you about what needs to be done. Pack light and trust me."

Penner felt the bag grow heavy in his hands as the knot in his stomach grew. Chess had already returned to running around the room, throwing clothes and tools into the bag or discarding them on the floor.

"You wanna take a trip?" "No. Not a trip."

"You're talking in fragments. I don't understand. Where are we going?" Penner frowned.

"Away," Chess said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. "Far away." "We can't just leave."

"We must. I don't have a choice right now." "When WILL we be back?" Penner asked.

"We won't," Chess said. "I mean, I won't. This is it."

Penner's mouth was dry. He tried to swallow but could barely breathe. "You're asking me to leave with you without even knowing where we're going?"

"I'm asking you to come with me. But with or without you, I'm leaving. Don't make me leave alone."

Chess slid into a shirt and vest before packing a few more items in the bag. Penner wanted to argue, but there didn't appear to be any point. Chess looked serious, in fact he looked more serious than Penner had ever seen him. If Chess really was leaving, there didn't appear to be any choice. Anywhere Chess went, he'd follow. Gripping the small canvas bag, he ran into their washroom and began to pack.

"We need to leave in five. Be quick," Chess said as he rushed to the door. "Chess!" Penner called out.

What?" Chess asked.

"Wear pants." Chess held his gaze for a moment before looking down. "Right."