The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  Quinn wrote her name down on the slip. “Okay, meet you at the cash register and I’ll get your order in.” She nodded at him and they walked to the registers, each on their own side of the counter. He could sense something around him with his mind, but it wasn’t Blake. It was like Blake’s presence in his mind when they were close, but different…subdued…refined...hidden.

  He glanced up at the front of the store and sighed as he waited for the machine to authorize her credit card and print out the receipt. A long line of customers extended out the door. Three people had called in sick and Quinn felt guilty about having lied, especially since his mission had failed. The register finished printing and Quinn handed Ana María her receipt.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon,” she answered, winking at him.

  “What?” Quinn asked, frowning with confusion.

  She smiled at him. “I just moved back to town and this was my favorite coffee shop. It still is, so I will be back.”

  “Oh, okay, cool. Welcome back to Portsmouth.”

  She winked at him again and made her way to the beverage pickup station.

  Quinn made his way to the next customer with Cassie on his heels. He looked over and saw the most beautiful face smiling back at him. Quinn blushed, the corner of his mouth curling upward. He tapped Cassie on the shoulder. “I'm taking the cute guy this time,” he said softly.

  Cassie, who also went to Portsmouth High, glanced at the cute guy then looked at Quinn with amusement in her eyes and asked, “He was your Homecoming date right?”

  Quinn nodded. “Yup.”

  “He’s all yours.”

  When Quinn approached Keegan, his growing smile threatened to split his face in two. “Hi,” he managed to say, his heart pounding in his chest. The lights in the shop flicked a little. He is just so cute!

  “Hi, handsome,” Keegan said, checking out the flickering lights and then winking at him. “Could I please get a mocha latte and a mocha-couple-hours for later?”

  “A what?” Quinn asked, taken aback.

  “I'm asking you out on a date, silly.”

  “Do it,” the elderly woman behind Keegan said, smiling at them both.

  Quinn nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Great! How about I pick you up around seven? Does that work?”

  “Yeah, I should be done here by 5:30. That should give me enough time to get home and shower.”

  Keegan smiled at him. “Excellent.”

  “Be right back with your latte,” Quinn said, his feelings raised at Keegan’s invitation.

  “You boys are so lucky. Back in my day…” the woman explained to Keegan, but her voice became lost to Quinn in the busyness of the coffee shop as he walked to the coffee machines.

  When Quinn finished preparing Keegan’s latte, he met him at the register and said, “Here, this one’s on me.”

  Keegan winked at him and smiled. “Thanks, handsome. Can you handle a surprise?”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said, butterflies jumping in his stomach as he drank in Keegan’s smile. As long as your surprise has nothing to do with a maniacal secret order.

  “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight, but the surprise is where, so bring your appetite. Also, if you picked out a cute and adorable outfit for our date, that would be most appreciated.”

  “Okay,” Quinn said, the words making his sad heart happy.

  “Okay, gotta run. Pick you up at seven, handsome.”

  “Bye, Keegan,” Quinn said, waving awkwardly with his hand.

  He watched Keegan leave, then noticed someone on his left side watching him with great interest. He turned to see his boss, Matt, staring at him. He stepped forward and softly asked, “Am I to understand that you’ve come out of the closet?”

  Quinn blushed and smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Great! Congratulations!” Matt said, offering his right hand, which Quinn accepted and shook. “We’ll celebrate later because right now there’s still a huge line of thirsty customers. Thanks so much for coming in. I owe you one.”

  Quinn chuckled and pointed knowingly at his boss. “I’ll hold you to that.” He turned and walked over to the next customer, hoping the smile on his face lasted until the end of his shift.

  ❖

  When the rush died, Matt let the extra staff, including Quinn, leave early. Quinn headed home and absentmindedly walked into the living room. He sat alone in the center of one of the couches, suddenly consumed by thoughts and emotions of grief bubbling up over the loss of his best friend. In his chest, somewhere deep in his being, he felt a pain and agony he had never experienced before, and it hurt—a lot.

  “Whoa, are you okay, Quinn?” Dad asked, standing in the doorway, holding a file folder full of paperwork.

  Quinn glanced at Dad, who had a very concerned look about him. “I…” Quinn looked up and tried to speak, but his voice cracked and caught in his throat as sorrowful tears streamed down his face.

  “Oh my gosh, Quinn,” Dad said, tossing the file folder onto the coffee table. He rushed to his son’s side and sat next to him on the couch.

  There was nothing Quinn could do to stop the flood of tears and emotions that erupted from his heart and soul. Quinn leaned into his father’s embrace and sobbed inconsolably. Angst, anxiety, stress, and loss poured out of him as he trembled and cried in his dad’s arms.

  Fifteen minutes later, Quinn’s body relaxed and his breathing returned to normal. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, allowing his mind to compose itself. His dad’s hand gently stroked his back.

  “Do you feel better?” Dad asked.

  Quinn nodded and wiped his eyes dry.

  “What have you been carrying around, son?” Dad asked. Quinn saw Daddio had entered the living room and sat on the edge of the coffee table.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Daddio said, smiling at him.

  Quinn wiped his wet face with his hands. “Blake and I had a pretty serious fight. I think…” His voice wavered, but he held onto his emotions. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.” He felt the emotions twist his face with sadness as a few more tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Oh, Quinn, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Quinn shook his head. “I can’t really get into it right now.”

  “Why not?”

  Quinn laughed through tears. “Well, Keegan asked me out on a date tonight and I have to get ready. Can I talk to you guys about it tomorrow?” This will give me more time to think about what and how I explain what’s been going on with us.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Daddio said, relieved. Quinn and Dad looked at him with interest.

  Daddio noticed their awkward glances. “I mean, I’m sorry about Blake but I honestly thought Keegan had done something stupid and broke your heart. Not that, uh, well, I guess Blake did that, didn’t he?”

  Quinn feigned a smile. “Yeah, he did.”

  “I know it feels horrible right now, but if your friendship is strong enough, you’ll be hanging out soon enough,” Dad said, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

  “Yeah, I hope you’re right.”

  “You good for now? I mean, are you sure you want to go on a date tonight feeling crappy about Blake?”

  Quinn nodded. “I need the distraction. What else am I going to do, hang around here all night and sulk?”

  “Well,” Daddio said, waving his hand dramatically. “I guess we’ve been told we’re boring.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Uh-huh,” Daddio responded, winking.

  “I hope you plan on showering before you go out with your boy; you smell like sad teenager and burnt coffee,” Dad said.

  Quinn burst into laughter with his dads and shook his head, realizing that no matter what would happen in the future, they would have his back.

  ❖

  Blake

  A tiny amount of invisible energy in the reactor core swirled around him, the main process of collection and conversion halted for the time be
ing. The fight he had with Quinn in the master control room that tripped the sprinkler system short-circuited and damaged several consoles, key systems, and electrical wiring that operated the energy conversion process. At the moment, no energy flowed through the eight conduits.

  Blake sat in the center of the metal disk that had elevated and infused him and Quinn with orgone, forever changing and complicating their lives. He knew Quinn would never see justice for the world the way he did, but he couldn’t figure out why his best-friend had to be such a pain in the ass about it. On the other hand, he never felt more himself than when he stood up for the cause he believed in.

  The door to the vintage control room creaked open, and Victor peeked inside. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure,” Blake said, looking up.

  Victor hobbled in, sporting a cane to help him walk. “Dr. Madison expects I’ll make a full recovery in a few weeks, so that’s good.”

  “What do you really want, Victor?” Blake asked, cutting through the awkwardness.

  Victor chuckled and leaned against one of the walls. “Straight to the point, I like it. I came to check on you, to make sure you’re okay. A lot happened today.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just gonna take a day or two for me to get through it.”

  “And at school? At track practice?”

  “Everyone will think we had a big fight, that’s all. I’m not about to explain any of this and I know Quinn isn’t going to either.”

  “I’d expect him not to.”

  “How are you going to train me? It’s not like I can come up here every week.”

  Victor looked around the old chamber. “I’ve put some thought into that. I admire your willingness to finish high school and I want you to know I’m committed to securing your education and your training for The Order. The Rangeley facility is toast right now; your fight with Quinn took out a large number of relays and other sensitive electronics that will take months to repair or replace.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Hey, it could have been worse.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Not really. I actually estimated Rangeley would be a complete loss if you two got in a fight. The fact that the reactor is intact and the facility can be repaired is a bonus.”

  Blake nodded. “That’s good, I guess.”

  “It is! But for now, to accommodate repairs and ongoing work, I’m transferring myself, operations, and the entire staff to the Portsmouth facility.”

  “Oh yeah?” Blake asked, intrigued.

  “Yes. This way here, you’ll experience the least amount of disruption possible. That facility is more advanced, and we’ll be able to do things faster.”

  “Don’t you need all those Cloudbuster things up top?” Blake asked, pointing in the general direction of the surface equipment above them. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen or heard of such a thing in Portsmouth.”

  Victor smiled. “We’ve miniaturized the technology from Dr. Wilhelm’s original designs. Once you know what to look for, you’ll see them all over town.”

  Blake nodded. “Okay.”

  “Speaking of which, let’s get you home. I’ll connect with you later this week once we’ve moved, but I probably won’t be in touch for a couple days. There’s a lot to do up here. I’ll also secure that condo for you on Badger Island. You only have to deal with your parents for a few more days. Can you handle it?”

  Blake sighed. “What’s a few more days when it’s been almost seventeen years? I can handle it. Do you still need me to take out Chief Applegate?”

  Victor smirked and blinked. “Those weren’t my words.”

  “Yeah, they were. I just read between the lines.” They smiled together and made their way back up to the main level of the facility.

  ❖

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Ralph shouted, slurring his words as he struggled to push himself up from his recliner.

  Blake reached out with his right hand, clawing his fingers, and grabbed his sloshed father with his mind. He lifted him up from his recliner and pulled him across the living room, the man’s shins smashing into the beer bottle covered coffee table. Glass bottles crashed together and fell to the carpet, momentarily jarring his mother from her drunken stupor on the couch. Ralph groaned in pain and surprise, his face expressing confusion.

  Stop.

  What are you doing? He’s your father!

  Don’t hurt him tonight. Don’t do something you’ll regret…today’s been tough enough.

  Let him go.

  Blake extended his fingers and pushed his father back into his recliner. Ralph shouted as he flew backward and landed hard, the wind sucked out of him. Then, he flipped the recliner lever so his father’s feet would be elevated, hopefully encouraging him to pass out or fall asleep—Blake would take whichever came first.

  “Good night, Blake,” Stella said, shifting her hands under her face on the couch. Blake shook his head and walked into the kitchen to grab a snack. The house reeked of alcohol, and he could tell his parents had mixed it up quite a bit that day. He stared at the open bottle of cheap vodka on the counter top.

  They’re not the only ones who had a terrible day.

  He glanced back at his parents in the living room; his father was now snoring in his recliner. He grabbed the bottle and chugged half of it, spitting up and sputtering the clear liquid as the vodka burned his throat. Then, he set the bottle down and went upstairs to shower.

  2-29 | Life Must Go On

  Quinn

  “SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK he meant by a cute and adorable outfit?” Quinn asked, staring into his open closet, freshly showered and wearing red boxer briefs. He had been overthinking his outfit for the past thirty minutes.

  Daddio, who had just brought up a basket of folded laundry, leaned against his dresser and stared into the array of clothes in Quinn’s closet. “I interpret the phrase as instructions to dress up for dinner at a nice restaurant. I don’t think he’s taking you to McDonald’s.”

  Quinn laughed. “Gawd, I hope not.”

  “Do you want suggestions?” Daddio asked, his voice playfully nervous.

  Quinn smirked, knowing his fashion-obsessed father yearned for the chance to dote on him. “Yes, please.”

  This is when having two gay dads really pays off…they won’t let me leave the house looking anything less than completely put together.

  Daddio clutched his heart and feigned surprise, then leapt across the room before Quinn could change his mind.

  “Bow ties are cool right now. Pair one of your bow ties with a dress shirt—which I’ll iron for you—and then match it with either a dark pair of jeans or, depending on the shirt you pick out, a pair of navy blue, beige, or gray khakis. Match the belt color with the shoe color, and if possible, choose fun dress socks that match your shirt color. You can borrow a pair of ours if you like.”

  Quinn looked at his father, his eyes glazing over. Uh, okay…

  Daddio smiled. “Too much? Come on, I’ve seen you pull together all kinds of outfits that easily qualify as cute and adorable.”

  “Yeah, I know, but this is Keegan. I feel a lot of pressure and I don’t know why.”

  Daddio giggled and grinned at his son. “Because you’re super crushing on him, Quinn. Yes, this is Keegan, and he will think you look adorable no matter what because he likes you a lot. That’s what all the fuss is for, right?”

  “I dunno, it’s only our second date. I want it to go perfectly.”

  “I know you do, Quinn. From what I’ve gleaned about Keegan, he’s into you and not what you wear. He wants to spend time with you and…”

  Quinn burst into laughter when he saw his father’s face fill with alarm as his mind replayed the last sentence he said.

  “Oh dear lord, promise me you won’t go there tonight.”

  “Excuse me?” Quinn exclaimed. I’m not having the gay sex talk with you fifteen minutes before Keegan shows up!

  “With you being in the closet,
Dad and I thought we had a little more time to discuss sex with you, I mean, beyond what you already know, but, wow, suddenly we’re at the bridge and…”

  “Daddio!” Quinn exclaimed. “I’m not crossing that bridge tonight. I’m not ready, and I don’t think Keegan is either.”

  Daddio dramatically stepped back and collapsed on Quinn’s bed, speaking with an over exaggerated Southern accent. “Oh, I do believe I have a case of the vapors. My son is talking about sexual relations with his new boyfriend! My heart cannot taketh the strain!”

  Quinn burst into laughter. “You’re being ridiculous. He’s not my boyfriend, at least not yet.”

  “Are you guys okay up there?” Dad called out from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Yes!” Quinn and Daddio shouted together.

  “Don’t you worry your little heart, my child,” Daddio responded loudly, staying in character.

  “Oh brother,” Dad answered.

  Daddio became serious and sat forward. He pointed at Quinn and spoke sternly, but with love. “You’re right, you’re not ready. Everything we’ve taught you about the gift of sexuality holds true, whether you’re gay or straight. Dad and I expect you to use the best judgment you can—and believe me, in the heat of the moment, that’s not easy. Always be safe, Quinn, okay?”

  “Yes, Daddio,” Quinn said, blushing.

  “Okay. I love you and don’t want you to get hurt. Now, would you pick out an outfit already? Am I ironing a shirt or not?”

  “Yes, you are.” He turned around and picked out a purple and white gingham shirt, a red bow tie, dark jeans, dark ankle socks and his red converse. To finish it off, he pulled out gray suspenders.

  Daddio smiled at the outfit. “Perfect. That fits the instructions perfectly. I’ll take the pants and shirt to my bedroom and iron them for you right now.”

  “Thanks, Daddio,” Quinn said, handing over his pants and shirt. “And don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I trust you,” Daddio said, winking as he disappeared into the hallway.