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He'd checked Jordan's home, at first. Of course he wasn't there, of course he wasn't. Mimsy had warned him that it didn't sound literal when his best friend had mentioned going home. He only spent a minute banging on the door, before he left, cursing under his breath at his own stupidity (and a little over the stupidity of others.)

He went for the training fields next, because he knew that if he was having a fight with someone, he'd try to go beat the anger out of a training dummy. He found no Jordan there, though he did find a dummy that could handle a solid punch into its soft featureless face.

And that made him feel a little better.

When he stood there, trying to figure out exactly where Jordan could be, he surveyed the land around him and thought real hard. He thought real, real hard.

But his eyes kept straying away from the cliffs, because he was thinking just hard enough to try and keep the darkest of thoughts out. When the tiniest little speck of movement caught his eye on the cliffs, he stopped ignoring them and focused grimly on their distant form. That was exactly what he didn't want to ********' IDIOT." He screamed out, and he didn't know if he was yelling at himself, or at his best friend. Maybe both. Probably both, he reasoned, as he bolted with heavy steps towards - and then up - the cliff face.

Robert stopped several feet before getting near him, to give him just enough time to catch his breath. His steps were more careful from that point on, but still loud enough to be obvious, so he wouldn't sneak up on his friend. That was the last thing Jordan needed right now. He took measured steps, continuing up the slope of the cliff towards him. The wind was whipping both of their coats and hair and clothes towards the cliffs edge, and Robert was leaning in with it, compulsively trying to be closer without actually hurrying his steps.

"Hey, boss." He called out, and the wind stole the words right out of his mouth. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "Hey, Jordan."

He was no one's boss, today. He was just a friend in need.

"Never thought I'd see you up here. There are better places to clear your head, bro." He stopped, only a few feet away now, and held out his hand. His voice was quieter, but held a very powerful intensity. A command. "Talk to me."

No answer. Robert's fingers curled up into a fist, tightening angrily for a moment before relaxing once more. If Jordan had gotten this far, Robert had very little faith in the idea that he'd be able to talk him down from it. He stood there for a moment, flickered his eyes into the distance, and hoped to God his tracker was still working just in case.

He lunged at his best friend, skidding on the edge and scrambling to keep from going any further, until his arms were around Jordan and he was tightening up around him, holding him in a vice-like grip.

The edge of the cliff was at his feet, crumbling away with every step. He reconsidered his amazing plan for just a moment.

"You don't want this, Jordan. I know you don't want the pain either, but you don't want this. Pain goes away, death doesn't. You're stronger than this. You ********' ARE. Find the strength inside of you or so help me, I'm going to throw you off this cliff myself, and me along with it. I ain't letting you go, not for one second."

He clamped down, and prayed to God it wasn't going to have to come to that.

"Yes you can, and yes you will. You will because you have to. Not because you want to and not because you think you're strong enough, you're gonna keep going and living and being amazing because you have to. Because the pain ain't nothing compared to nothing."

He took a deep breath, and then another. Mimsy, please be watching, just in case, he told himself. Then he leaned hard, and both of their bodies started to teeter dangerously over the edge of the cliff.

He unwound his arms enough to make Jordan dangle, holding him by the waist.

"LOOK AT THAT FUTURE DOWN THERE JORDAN." He yelled out through the whipping winds, trying to keep a hold of him and not fall himself. "LOOK AT THOSE ROCKS YOU WANT TO BE SPLATTERED ON. ********' LOOK AT THEM AND TELL ME YOU DON'T WANNA LIVE."

"I AIN'T ASKING YOU NOTHING," Robert continued to yell out, shaking Jordan dangerously. "I already know the answer, god damnit man. I know. Stop ********' convincing yourself that this is what you want, because it ain't. It never will be the right answer. Your heart is racing right now, your body's like, get me back up, and that's because you KNOW you want to live. Even if it means having to deal with shitty pain for a very long time."

He pulled Jordan back up, wrapped him up in a ball in his arms, and clung tightly to the man. "Please, please, please stop this. Please. I can't lose you, but that don't even matter, I can't let you lose yourself."

His little shock therapy attempt had less of an effect than he'd been hoping for, but he sure felt scared out of his mind when they'd been hanging there. He only hoped Jordan had felt at least some of the same.

"You don't wanna die. You just gotta get through the bad times. Please, boss. Please don't go."

He was sick of losing the people he loved.

If Robert had known that it was his own selfish need that had gotten through to Jordan, he probably would have been extremely pleased with himself for doing something right. But he didn't, and that made his need no less important. He let out a choked sob when Jordan said I'm not - and then groaned. He'd been doing so well not crying, for him. Being strong, for him. Well, he figured, maybe just one big cry was okay, now that Jordan wasn't reaching for the cliff edge.

"I'm glad. I want you to be sorry, lots of sorry. I want you to feel so super guilty about all of this that you never, ever do it again," Robert was laughing even as he simultaneously cried, rocking Jordan back and forth in his arms. "Super duper guilty." He repeated, crushing the man in his arms.

He wasn't even close to ready to let go, but he knew that they were safer, now - and the biggest danger was the proximity of that cliff edge. So he shuffled roughly, an awkward move, until he ended up rolling on his side just once and sat up again. Jordan just had to come along for the ride.

"Good." Robert muttered one last time, and then went silent. "Maybe you'll throw up all that poison inside you and get started on climbing up out of this ********' hole you've dug yourself into." Under no circumstances was Robert talking about the alcohol. Jordan needed to excise a lot more than just the liquor muddling his brain if he was going to be okay. And he needed Jordan to be okay.

"All right, let's go, you need to sleep it off." Robert was up on his feet, lurching Jordan up in his arms and cradling him close. With every step away from the cliffs, another wave of relief and pain washed over him, glad to get away from the possibility of losing Jordan, but always, always aware that it had been a possibility. That feeling would never go away. Irrevocably, something had changed between the two men. Robert felt a sense of responsibility he'd never had for Jordan before, and lost that sense of untouchability. Jordan was not perfect. No one was.

But it had been nice to delude himself once in a while.