Allie's War Season Three

by JC Andrijeski

  Jon didn’t see him, though, and after a few more turns around the lower floors, he gave up. Not wanting to make a big deal, or interrupt him if Wreg was working, Jon decided to take a shower and a nap before something else happened to put them all back on high alert.

  He was most of the way to the fifty-seventh floor, when it hit him that he'd never changed rooms.

  He'd shared Wreg's bed most nights after the wedding, finding himself there almost without either of them really talking about it, but he’d never officially moved out of the room he’d once shared with Dorje. Now, remembering the apparition of his dead, traitor, ex-boyfriend at the chateau in Argentina, Jon stopped cold in the middle of the hotel corridor.

  He didn't really want to sleep in there.

  In fact, he didn't want to sleep in there at all.

  He wondered if he could talk the front desk into giving him a key card for a different room.

  Jon just stood there for a moment, thinking through the logistics of how he might move his stuff, if he should do it now, or take a shower first, deal with the rest of it after he’d at least donned clean clothes. But he could feel he was stalling.

  It struck him why, suddenly.

  He frowned, even as it occurred to him where he really wanted to sleep. He knew the seer probably wouldn't mind, but Jon found himself hesitating anyway, trying to sort through his own motives, at least as well as he could. After another moment of thinking, he decided he needed to chill out. It was too soon for him to start crashing at Wreg's full time.

  He needed to get a new room.

  As soon as the thought solidified, he turned, aiming his feet back towards the elevators.

  He'd just leaned over to press the 'down' button to call back the elevators, when the corridor shuddered. When it stopped, Jon just stood there, hearing his heart beat louder in his chest. His hand remained extended towards the button on the wall. He took another breath, about to complete the motion, when a sudden, hard jerk nearly threw him off his feet.

  That time, he fell into the elevator doors, then heavily to one knee.

  “Jesus...” Jon stared around at the walls and ceiling.

  Still kneeling there, he contemplated using his link to find out what the hell that was, when another wave hit. He gripped the edge of the elevator door’s opening, panting as he tried to decide if he should try to get back to his feet. Another, harder jerk caused the lights to flicker, just before a low groan issued from some part of the steel girders inside the walls, or maybe the elevator itself. Jon’s mind went at once to that bomb in the hotel in Delhi.

  Panic hit at the thought of an attack on the hotel, even as a more logical part of his mind churned in the foreground.

  He thought about how large a bomb would have to be to shake the foundations of a building this size. His mind went to the outside storm, to aircraft carriers, bombers, underground gas lines...none of it made sense. The ground moved under him in another series of sharp pulls. A post-modern painting in an accent alcove fell off the wall. Jon watched a glass vase vibrate off the table in the same alcove, bouncing on the carpeted floor without breaking. Adrenaline trembled his limbs, even as some other part of him caught up, remembered an alternative explanation, one a lot simpler, and one that immediately felt more true.

  Earthquake. This was an earthquake.

  The ground jerked sideways again.

  Jon glanced at the nearest doorways, wondered if he should do the standard earthquake thing and try to shield himself under one of them. The elevator wasn’t a good option, or the stairs really, but the only room for which he had a key lay at the other end of the hall.

  The shaking died down again while he thought about it.

  Still holding the elevator door jamb, and now the smooth panel of one of the actual doors, Jon crouched there, heart hammering in his chest. That time, when the walls, floor and ceiling grew still, he waited a few seconds more, listening to the silence.

  No, not silence...he could hear the wind again.

  He heard the rain, too, even through the reinforced glass, a soft staccato he shouldn’t hear at all, and wouldn’t, if the wind wasn’t blowing so hard around the building’s upper floors.

  Jon focused through the organic pane at the near-black clouds, watching as wind drove the pouring rain in horizontal lines. The glass vibrated faintly with another shudder that could have been wind or another tremor, and it struck Jon suddenly that he’d never been in an earthquake while it was raining before.

  He still crouched there, staring out the window, when his earpiece let out a tone.

  "Jon?" a familiar voice said in his ear. "Jon! Are you all right? Where are you, brother?"

  Jon gazed down the corridor before answering, feeling another faint trembling under his feet, although it felt mild compared to everything that came before.

  "Earthquake," he muttered. "Jesus. That really was an earthquake?"

  "Yes, brother," Wreg said. "We've just been told more might be coming."

  "How strong?"

  "That one was 7.4," he said promptly. "But there's some kind of plate activity happening. We've got a tsunami warning. There were four others off the southern coast, as well."

  Jon got lost briefly in his head, feeling sick.

  "It really is the end of the world, isn't it?" he said.

  Instead of answering, Wreg sent a pulse of warmth directly to his chest. "Where are you, brother? Can I come to you?"

  Jon nodded, then realized he hadn't activated the VR setting of the headset. "Yeah," he said. Then, remembering what he'd been thinking before the ground started moving under his feet, he blurted, "Wait. I was going to come down. Are you in the lobby?"

  "Where are you?" Wreg repeated, his voice patient.

  "I'm on fifty-seven, by my old room." Jon hesitated, feeling the seer wait for him continue. It hit him that he'd already said it was his 'old' room. "...I thought I'd get a new room," he added. "I was just heading back down, like I said..."

  "No need," Wreg said, dismissive. "And stay off the elevators for now, okay? Just until the tech team can look them over, make sure they're reinforced for any more seismic activity."

  Jon tensed, feeling something else behind the seer's words, a flicker of intent maybe, along with a visual. He felt the seer notice his reaction, but he said it anyway.

  "Wreg...no. It's too soon."

  Wreg fell silent.

  Jon found himself holding his breath and realized he was trying to feel the other man's reaction. He also realized something else...Wreg was shielding from him. Sighing again, Jon sent an apology through his light, opening it more to Wreg's.

  "I just mean for now,” he clarified. “For now, I thought I'd get a smaller room. So we’d have options, you know? Why put pressure on things?"

  He felt Wreg thinking again, and just waited that time.

  He still couldn't feel much; the other man continued to shield from him, although Jon didn't feel any anger there. He was trying to decide what he could feel, when pain hit him, strong enough that Jon closed his eyes, leaning against the wall as the elevator doors opened in front of him from when he'd pressed the button before. Jon felt Wreg's shoulder injury in that flash of pain, too, the injury he only learned about while he’d been herded through quarantine protocols with the rest of the humans. He also realized something else.

  He was lying to himself. Again.

  The understanding made him angry more than anything, although not at Wreg. He was still fighting this thing, and mostly out of fear...along with an attempt to control things, including Wreg himself. He was still trying to pace this out like he would with any other relationship, meaning one where he’d been more human. He was trying to do things the way they made sense to his head, not what he wanted, or even what felt right to him.

  "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. "Where are you?"

  The seer answered, still halfway behind a shield. "I was heading up. Do you want me to pick up a new key for you?" he said. "For a smaller room,
I mean."

  "No," Jon said, sighing again. "I want you to tell me what you were talking about before. When you said there was no need for me to get a new room."

  "Jon," he said. "I was being presumptuous. I can wait. I promise you, I can."

  "I'm not sure I can," Jon admitted. He covered his face with a hand as he spoke, realizing he was still shaking with adrenaline. He was from San Francisco, for crying out loud, and here he was trembling like a schoolboy, while Wreg acted like the earthquake was just another flash of freak weather. "...Just tell me what you had in mind, okay?" Jon said. "We said we were going to be honest about this stuff."

  "So you were not being honest before?" Wreg said. "With this need of options between us?"

  Jon sighed, hearing the other meaning in that, too.

  "I never meant it like that," he said, exasperated. "I'm not talking about other people options, Wreg...just living options." Realizing he was still avoiding the question, he added, "And no...I wasn't being entirely honest." Feeling a pulse off the seer he couldn't interpret, Jon exhaled. "Look, Wreg. I'm trying to be responsible about all of this. I'm just not exactly sure what that means. My model for how this kind of thing is supposed to work may not be...well, appropriate." He winced at the inadequacy of the word. "...Does that make sense at all?"

  "It makes sense, Jon."

  Jon let out a short laugh, unable to help himself. "No, it doesn't." He gave another half-snort. "Admit it. You're humoring the brainwashed, uptight worm-guy."

  Wreg laughed. For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, his light opened. "Honestly? I'm more trying not to pressure you to come sleep with me...when I really, really want to pressure you to come sleep with me."

  "We just had an earthquake," Jon said. "Aren't you on high alert or something?"

  "No," Wreg said. "I already signed off. Fuck them. If they need me, they can wait."

  "Is your shoulder okay?" Jon said. "Does it still hurt?"

  "If I say yes, are you more likely to come to my bed, instead of insisting on this other bed in your smaller room?"

  "I might be," Jon admitted. "When are you coming up?"

  Just then, the elevator doors opened again. Jon realized only then that they'd closed somewhere in the pause, having been called away by another floor. When they opened that time, he found himself facing Wreg. The tattooed seer dropped his hand from where he'd just turned off the headset, giving Jon a faint smile.

  "Hello, brother."

  Jon rolled his eyes. "So much for waiting on using the elevators...or does that only count for the boyfriends of overprotective monsters like you?"

  "Can you rappel down the shaft with a broken arm, using the cables?" Wreg said. "Or hot-wire the box, if the organics shut down?"

  Jon hesitated, then made a concessionary gesture. "No. Probably not."

  "Can you reprogram the doors to open if you get stuck between floors?"

  Jon rolled his eyes. "No."

  "Well. There you have it. Although you should learn that shit, you know. Stop being such a lazy fucker with your ops training." Wreg frowned, slipping briefly back into military mode. "I'll put you with Gar tomorrow, have him give you a 101 on organic machines. Your sight's good enough now. He can work with you on breaking pass-codes and bypassing network security, too. You can't always rely on one of us for that..."

  His dark eyes lit up then, holding a glint that Jon felt somewhere in his lower belly.

  "...Boyfriend, eh?" he said.

  Jon sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. Without answering, he motioned his head down the corridor in the direction of his old room.

  "So? Why are you here?" Jon said.

  "I thought you might need help. With Feigran's books."

  Jon clicked at him. "Feigran’s books. I see.” Shaking his head a little when the seer didn’t speak, Jon prompted, “...And? Am I getting a few things for myself, too? Or what?"

  Seeing Wreg's grin, and feeling his own light warm in response, Jon realized again that this thing wasn't going to be rational, or move at anything like what he considered a sane pace for a relationship. Seeing Wreg watching him stare, Jon sighed again, averting his eyes.

  "So?" he said. "We have a room, right? Or were you just screwing with me before?"

  "No, little brother. We have a room." Wreg's dark eyes focused down the hallway, even as Jon felt another pulse of pain off him. "...And yes. I am here to help you move a few things. But Nenz did want me to see to those books. Personally, I mean."

  Jon nodded, fighting not to let his reaction to the seer's light show.

  Wreg felt tired though, Jon noticed. There was a lot of pain on him, yeah, but it was both kinds, and for a moment, Jon found himself lost in the physical, and decidedly less-sexy variety. He felt Wreg's shoulder the strongest, of course, but he felt other things, too...bruises he’d earned in one or another part of the op in Argentina, the back injury from the work camp in Manaus, along with a number of pulled muscles and whatever else. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen Wreg alone much, not since the seer left New York to lead the op in Brazil.

  Jon also hadn't seen him naked, at least not in full light.

  The older seer didn't quite meet Jon's gaze while Jon thought all of this. Instead, he glanced down the hall, motioning towards Jon's old room with his hand.

  His voice turned carefully polite.

  "Do you mind picking up a few things for tonight?" Wreg said. "You can decide where to put the rest later...I promise to try not to pressure you." He made a more apologetic gesture. “And Jon, about Nenz wanting me to get the books...it's not because he doesn't trust you. It’s more protection. I think he's worried they could disappear. We've got a lot of new people roaming the halls. We don't want to kill someone accidentally while we figure out how to reconfigure the security grids, so until we get that all cleaned up and the security checks finished and all of them briefed on where they can and can't go, he wants me to lock the books up in one of the safes on the secure floor. The elevators won't even go up there without a Barrier key, so there shouldn't be a problem with an accidental breach..."

  "Secure floor?" Jon said.

  Jon aimed his feet down the hallway once he realized Wreg was waiting for him to lead the way. Hands still shoved in his pockets, he tried to ignore, or at least push back, the coil of nausea that wanted to rise in his belly now that their light was so close together. Fighting to control the accompanying heat in his chest, he kept his eyes on the hallway and away from the seer.

  If Wreg was hurt, he would just have to wait.

  "...Which floor is that?" Jon asked, clearing his throat.

  "Sixtieth," Wreg said. "There's a suite up there not being used. I thought we'd take the books there. It's got its own construct."

  Jon snorted an involuntary laugh. "It's own construct?" He glanced over, raising an eyebrow at the taller seer. "That's interesting, Wreg. Really interesting."

  Wreg smiled faintly. "I had nothing to do with it, brother," he said. "It was a present." Glancing at Jon, he let his smile creep out wider. "...Or maybe a massive hint. Oli pulled me aside to give me the key..."

  "Revik," Jon said, sighing.

  "Actually, no," Wreg said, giving Jon another sideways smile. A laugh seemed to come out of him involuntarily, too. "...Adhipan, if you can believe it."

  "Balidor?" Jon said, half-choking the name.

  Wreg smiled again, clicking with his tongue. "I guess getting laid put him in a good mood," he grunted. He glanced at Jon, adding more hesitantly, "Actually, he's known for awhile. About us. Jorag told me he'd already designed the construct 'as a precaution,' and worked it into his overall security plans before the wedding. He kept me out of it, of course..."

  "Before the wedding," Jon muttered.

  "Yeah." Wreg gave him a cautious look, one Jon chose not to try and interpret.

  "Balidor sees too much, if you ask me," Jon said instead.

  Wreg only shrugged, although Jon was startled to see color ri
se to his dark skin.

  "Whatever conspiracy there was, it didn't involve me," he grunted. "Although, I think I was pretty open and clear with the flirting part beforehand, wasn't I?"

  "No," Jon said, knocking into him playfully. "You weren't." He'd forgotten about the seer's hurt shoulder though, and winced violently when he felt sympathetic pain through Wreg's light. "Jesus. Sorry..." He touched the seer's arm in apology, a flush of guilt hitting him when Wreg shrugged it off with a smile. "...I'm used to you being tank-guy. Not wounded tank-guy. Shit, man. I'm really sorry..."

  Wreg only laughed, slowing before Jon's old door.

  Using the key card, Jon continued to glance at the seer, wondering at how quiet he was. Had he really hurt his feelings with the thing about getting a new room? Or was Wreg's shoulder bothering him more than Jon realized? Had the painkillers worn off, or was he just exhausted from the trip?

  "Maybe a little of all of that, brother," Wreg said, his voice showing his tiredness that time. "...Do you really want to lie down with me?" he said then, more hesitant. "I'm not pressuring you, am I?"

  "Are you actually asking?" Jon said, cocking an eyebrow. "That's a first."

  He pushed open the hotel room door, glancing back, even as Wreg met his gaze. The vulnerability Jon saw on the other’s face shook him a bit, even as he felt it open his heart.

  "Hey," he said. "I was kidding, okay?" Stopping inside the door, he found himself wrapping an arm around the seer's neck. "I'm sorry about what I said before. About the other room...about the options thing. It was stupid."

  Wreg shook his head, withdrawing his light in what might have been embarrassment. "There's nothing to be sorry about," he said, and that time he really sounded tired. "I am asking. I don't want to be alone right now." When Jon looked at Wreg’s wounded shoulder, Wreg shook his head again. "...It's not that."