by Aidan Wayne
I know. I know. And I know nothing comes from wishing, but I just… wish it were easier. For both of you.
I know. Thank you for being with me. I love you.
I love you too.
JASON WENT at his bag until he physically couldn’t anymore, for once not caring that it was nearly dawn and he was making noise. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course just as things were starting to get better, even by a little bit, he’d had to go and set Shade off. Of course.
When he was gasping for air and unable to lift his legs anymore, he sank slowly down to the floor, rolling over onto his back to stare at the ceiling, trying to think of what to do.
Apologize, obviously. But then what? He could work even harder to not make mistakes, and he would be better, he knew he could be better, but he also knew he’d caused damage. Shade wasn’t going to forgive him this, and he had every right not to.
But if Shade couldn’t live with him anymore, that meant he and Chase would both leave and Jason would have to start over from scratch with a new Companion, and he was just getting used to the ones he had now. He was getting used to them. To Shade’s variety of silences and Chase’s calm demeanor, to both of their cooking and the quick, efficient way they made Jason tea on bad nights when he couldn’t help but stay up.
To the careful touches that were starting to get a little more frequent. Always with permission asked first, always with slow, telegraphing movement but… they were. They were nice. He’d miss them.
He’d miss them a lot.
The knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts. “Yes?”
“It’s Chase. Can you come out?”
And here it was. Four in the morning and they were telling him they were leaving. But better to get things over with now, he supposed. He got to his feet on shaky legs and opened the door, stumbling outside. When his door was safely closed, he took Chase in and felt his insides curl a little. Chase looked worn, in a way he never had before, worn and tired and sad.
And it was Jason’s fault.
It was always Jason’s fault.
“I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t help, that I did damage, but I was frustrated and I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry.”
Chase nodded. “Shade forgives you.”
“He… he what?”
Chase sighed, a crackle of static. “He forgives you, Jason. He doesn’t blame you for what happened. He has triggers, the same as you do. You didn’t know.”
Jason shook his head, not sure what was going on. “I thought—I thought you were leaving.”
Chase frowned. “Of course not. You’re our human. We don’t want to leave.”
“But I hurt him. I hurt him, even if I wasn’t using my body, just my words, and I hurt you too. Look at you, I keep… I keep hurting you both.” His hand was on the doorframe and he was clutching it tightly, the lines biting into his palm. His breath was coming faster. “I’m supposed to be home and kept safe until I leave again. I’m not supposed to be causing damage to civilians every single day—”
“Jason! Jason, breathe.”
Jason was breathing, hard and fast, he didn’t know why Chase was telling him to breathe, but Jason’d hurt him enough today by proxy, he could damn well listen to his instructions. He tried to slow his breathing, took a deeper breath, then another. “I’m sorry,” he managed, when his heart wasn’t pounding too loudly anymore. His voice sounded thin and weak, and he hated it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or Shade. I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Chase reached out a hand and Jason let him, until it was settled on his shoulder, a spot of warmth. He shuddered under it, and then Chase was moving again, coming closer, and Jason kept himself still and let him and—and he was being hugged.
He was being hugged.
He… couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged.
Jason held himself stiff, not sure what to do, fighting the urge to pull away, to relax into it, until Chase carefully moved back, letting his hands rest on Jason’s shoulders.
“We’re not leaving you, Jason,” Chase murmured. “We want to see you happy and healthy. Shade and I both. Sometimes we misstep. You’re allowed to. You’ll be better next time.”
“Yeah,” Jason said, feeling subdued. “Okay.” And then, “Shade’s really all right?”
“He’s fine. Did you want to see him?”
Jason shook his head. “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll keep my distance. I don’t want….”
“Jason,” Chase said firmly. “If he wanted you to stay away from him, I wouldn’t have offered to let you see him. His safety and well-being is just as important to me as yours is.”
Jason swallowed and didn’t say anything.
“Please don’t retreat from us again,” Chase said, hands still on Jason’s shoulders, a steady, warm weight. “Please don’t. We were doing better. You were doing better.”
Jason hunched his shoulders, pulled away from Chase, letting his hands slip off. “I’m going to get some water,” he mumbled. “And then I guess… I guess I’ll go back to the living room. If he wants to come out and talk to me, I’ll be there.” That’s what he could offer.
“All right. Thank you.”
Jason nodded jerkily and headed for the kitchen.
JASON WAS hunched over on the couch, clutching a water bottle when Chase and Shade came into the living room.
“Could we sit?” Chase asked, gesturing at the couch.
“Sure,” Jason said, moving even closer to the side. Chase and Shade exchanged glances, and then Shade sat down on the far side of the couch, Chase taking the armchair.
Jason shifted so he was facing the both of them. “Are you… are you feeling better?”
Shade nodded, hands on his thighs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think. I’ll be better. I’m sorry.”
“Fine,” Shade said quietly. “Triggers happen. Sorry Jason is feeling bad.”
That got a rough laugh out of him. “I’m sorry for you, you’re sorry for me, huh?”
“And Chase. Also sorry for Chase.”
“Yeah.” Jason rolled his water bottle between his hands. “Look at us. This is just… great.”
“Shade is sorry. Jason hurting because of Shade.”
Jason shook his head. “That’s not—” He cut himself off, frustrated. “Can I ask why? Either of you. Why you do this. What… what you get out of it. It just… it seems pretty thankless, to me. Dealing with me. With people like me. You guys have free will, you’ve got rights, you have choice. Why would this be what you chose?”
“I can’t speak for Shade,” Chase said eventually, into the silence of the room, “but it’s simple, for me. Humanity gave me so much. I want to give back. I was given my personhood. I… I like helping others regain it.”
Shade raised his hand. “Don’t like it when people hurt. Same way. Want… want things to be better. Before and now too. That’s why.”
Jason took another drink of water, set the bottle down on the coffee table. “I’m going to try to close my eyes,” he said after a minute.
Chase nodded. “Of course, go ahead. Do you want us to leave?”
“No.” That was something he could offer them. Try to give them some trust. It was the least he could do, after…. “You guys can stay.” He tucked himself into the side of the couch and crossed his arms, closing his eyes. Breathed out. He used to sleep better, with people around. Maybe he could try to get that back.
Chapter Six
“JASON BUSY?”
Jason looked up, glanced back to his laptop and the workbooks spread out on the coffee table, then back up at Shade.
“Not that busy,” Jason said carefully. He had nothing but time; any work he was doing could always be done a little later. Chase was out at the grocery store, and Jason hadn’t interacted much with Shade without Chase there too. “What’s up?”
“What doing?”
“Just doing some homework. I take a lot of online courses to keep up-to-date
on things.” On top of making sure he read newspapers in every language he could understand. “Mostly language stuff, since that’s really something you lose, if you don’t practice.”
“Learning what now?” Shade asked, sounding interested. He moved a little closer, coming to stand just in front of the couch. Jason, already curled into a corner, shifted over just a little more. An open invitation. Shade hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to him, leaving about six inches of space between them. The proximity wasn’t too bad, now.
“Reviewing some Arabic,” Jason said. “I’m not bad at it, and I know enough that I can keep up a conversation, follow fast speech, but I’m brushing up on my reading skills.” He picked up a piece of paper to show Shade. “I printed this article up this morning, about the oil embargo. It’s all very technical, so it’s not all stuff I know off the top of my head. This one”—he pointed to another paper—“is a short story about a teenager that my professor sent me. It’s filled with modern slang, which I’m also a little behind in.”
“Jason knows a lot.” Shade sounded impressed.
Jason ducked his head, shrugging. “It’s not like I have much else to do with my downtime. Keeping my mind sharp is just as important as keeping my body in good condition.”
Shade frowned. “Why talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like… Jason is machine.”
Jason felt his heart clench with worry. Had he said something triggering? Was Shade upset? “I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t mean to, like, insult you or—”
Shade shook his head. “No,” he said, voice a little sad. “No insult. Jason just….” He tilted his head. “Jason talks like he doesn’t enjoy, just does something needed.”
“Oh.” Jason thought about that. “I didn’t realize that’s how it sounded.”
“And—does Jason enjoy?”
“Studying language? Oh yeah, definitely.”
Shade beamed and leaned forward. “Why?”
Jason glanced his notes. “I—I’ve always really loved the idea of communication. Of going somewhere and learning something right. I studied Russian in high school and spent two weeks there as part of the accelerated program, and it was amazing being able to actually communicate with other people from this other part of the world, even when it was just for asking direction and being able to understand them. That’s when I went kind of nuts for learning languages and took on Arabic and French too. When I first signed up, I was sent to Kuwait. And I only had a grasp of pretty basic stuff, but immersion teaches you like nothing else. A lot of people were wary of the guys on base—for good reason, obviously. But I made an effort to talk to them, and they started making an effort back and—” He sighed. That was one of his great memories. “I was there for six months and had been practically adopted by the town by the time I left. I still keep in contact with some of them.” Not recently, but—
Shade was staring at him, expression unreadable, and Jason felt himself get self-conscious. “Anyway, that’s, uh, yeah. That’s why. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t enjoy learning. I really do. I like the idea of being able to use what I know to communicate. Even if, uh, even if lately I’ve been using it for other parts of my job, mostly.” Shade made a questioning sound.
“You know, the, uh, listening parts.” Jason hadn’t been able to even look at his French texts since he’d gotten back from his last mission. He’d had to hide them under some old gear in the back of his closet. His other language stuff was fine, but French….
“What’s wrong?” Shade asked, immediately picking up on the change in mood. Jason shook his head.
“Nothing big, it’s fine.”
“Bad memory?”
“A little bit, yeah. I had some great experiences because I can understand other people. And some… not so great experiences.”
“Mission?” Shade asked softly.
Jason nodded.
“Don’t have to talk about it. But can if Jason wants to. Shade listens.”
Jason quickly shook his head. “No, it’s—it’s not really something you want to hear. Just a big mess.” His hands slid down to check his knees, feeling for the caps underneath the fabric of his jeans. All good. Of course, they’d have to be; the pain if they weren’t—
But he’d gotten good at numbing himself to stuff like that. That was how you survived.
“Jason!” Jason snapped back to reality, to Shade. “Sorry, sorry,” Shade said, looking miserable. His hands were just hovering over Jason’s shoulders, as if barely stopping his instinct to pull Jason close. “No bad memories, okay? Here now.”
“Right,” Jason said, licking his lips. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Silence descended.
“Could… could Jason teach?” Shade asked, tentatively. “Teach Shade?”
“What—a language?” Jason asked, trying to tamp down his surprise. Couldn’t Shade just… download the necessary features?
“Don’t like to get new software,” Shade said, as if reading Jason’s mind. “Can’t control, can’t be sure.”
Right. Of course. God, Jason was stupid. Of course Shade didn’t like letting any new software into his head since—“Sure, I guess. I mean. If you want. Did you have a language in mind? Or… can you speak any already?”
“Spanish,” Shade said in the most self-disgusted voice Jason had ever heard from him. “Default setting. A little French,” he added, almost an afterthought. “Worked with someone who spoke it. Shade picked up some words.”
Jason swallowed. “I—I know French. If you think that might be easiest for you to learn.” Even if he didn’t know if he could handle hearing it spoken again. Even if just hearing some of the French accents on his cooking shows made him antsy now.
Shade watched him carefully, eyes narrowed, then shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not French. Will learn something new.”
Jason almost sighed in relief. “Okay,” he said, trying for a smile. “Did you have something else in mind?”
“Chase can speak German,” Shade said. “Maybe that?”
“Sure. I mean, German’s still a new one for me, so I’m not fluent or anything yet, but sometimes that can be even better. We could learn it together. If, uh, if that’s what you wanted.”
The answering smile was brilliant. “Yes,” Shade said. “Sounds good.”
WHEN JASON entered the kitchen one morning to find Chase there by himself, he had to pause, feeling a little thrown. He was used to them both now, at each other’s sides, close in the way two people who cared so much about each other often were. It felt wrong to see just Chase first thing in the morning. Like something was missing.
“Good morning,” Chase said. He was assembling a group of ingredients on the counter, flour, sugar, eggs, milk, but hadn’t turned on the stove or anything yet. He always waited for Jason before actually starting to make breakfast, which was something Jason appreciated more than he could express. “I’m thinking about pancakes today. Does that and eggs sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Jason said honestly. Pancakes were another comfort, but he didn’t bother with them often. Sometimes he dreamed about going to a breakfast diner and ordering a big plate. It was one of his few nice dreams.
Chase smiled at him and started mixing things together. “Something on your mind?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Is Shade okay?” Jason blurted. “Only I’m just, uh, used to you guys working together.”
Chase chuckled. “Feels a little off, doesn’t it? He’s fine. Just had a rougher night. I let him stay in bed. Wanted him to get a little more charge.”
“Oh,” Jason said. That he understood. “Sorry to hear that.” He paused, then asked, “So how are you doing?”
“Me?” Chase asked, pouring oil into a pan, waiting for it to heat up.
“Well, you’re with him all night,” Jason pointed out. “If he’s tired, so are you, probably.”
Chase’s expression was wry
but fond. “A bit perhaps. But then again, we’re both equipped to deal with rough nights. I’m fine though. Thank you for asking.”
“Are you sure? I mean… not to pry, but it kind of works both ways, doesn’t it? You guys take care of me, I look out for you.” Jason ducked his head, frowning at the floor. “Just. You get the brunt of rough nights, dealing with the both of us. Don’t you get tired?”
“I can always power down during the day,” Chase pointed out.
“But you don’t. You’re with me during the day. Or you’re grocery shopping, or cooking, or walking with Shade. When do you get a break?”
“It means a lot to me that you’re concerned, but I’m really fine.”
Jason hunched his shoulders. “Okay, I get it.”
“Get what?”
“I let you in, but you don’t have to—right, I’m the patient. I get it. Never mind.”
Chase turned to look at Jason more fully and took a step toward him. “Jason, no that—that’s not it at all.”
“Your head is drooping, your hair isn’t neat like it usually is, you’re still in sleepwear, and normally you’re dressed when you make breakfast. You’re tired, and you’re telling me you’re not, that you’ll power down later when we both know you won’t.” Jason lifted a shoulder, let it drop back down. “It’s fine.”
Chase was silent for a long moment, the only sound in the room from the oil popping in the pan. “Jason, I—it’s my job to worry about you.”
“If you run yourself ragged, you’re not doing anyone any favors,” Jason said, sliding his eyes up to Chase’s before dropping them back down. “But I… I understand. You don’t trust me. I get that. I haven’t made myself easy to trust.”
“Jason, no. I….” Chase wrung his hands. “Sometimes I get caught up. In the taking care part. It’s not that I don’t trust you, or that I think you’re not capable. I just don’t want you to worry.”
