The Agency, Volume II

by Sylvan, Dianne

  Rowan remembered the bathroom, too; he opened each bottle in the shower one by one, smelling it, and he knew the ones that were his immediately. There were still two bathrobes hanging behind the door, and he pulled one against his face, breathing in.

  He wanted his lover. He wanted to look into Jason's blue eyes and feel the comfort of his arms. He needed to hear his voice, feel his hands. This was why he had come home, and he wouldn't feel like he was at home until Jason was here, with him, where they both belonged.

  He stood under the hot water for a long time, the shower head turned to the setting he'd dubbed 'pulverize' when it nearly took his skin off the first time he'd used it, wishing he could wash away the last two months and erase everything, start again. He wanted the lost time back, wanted to go on as if nothing was different, but he knew it was. He was different. Only time would tell just how much.

  He chose an Elven lounging robe the color of an eggplant and went into the kitchen to find something to drink. The fridge had been cleaned out, but there was still beer; he hadn't had beer in weeks, or much of anything for that matter. Everyone who had seen him so far had remarked on how skinny he was.

  There was a covered platter on the counter with a handwritten note. "Welcome home!" it read. "Love, Sage and Frog."

  Sage and Frog, he thought, placing their faces and personalities. They were going to have very green children.

  He lifted the cover and found at least two dozen cookies: chocolate chip, nut butter, and dark fudge crinkles coated in cane sugar. He smiled and took one of each with him into the living room, where he settled on the sofa and tried not to swallow them whole.

  The sweet earthy flavor of Sage's blend of whole wheat and spelt flours brought back a flood of memories, and he savored every bite, working his way through them, saving the fudge crinkle--his favorite, he remembered--for last.

  The door lock beeped, and Ness entered with Nava in tow. When they saw him, they both broke out into huge smiles, and Ness came forward, bent, and hugged him enthusiastically.

  He laughed.

  "God, it's good to see you," the Director said. "How are you?"

  "Wishing I had some milk," he replied. "Cookie?"

  She shook her head and took the chair while Nava repeated the hug treatment and sat down on the couch next to him. He could tell she was itching to examine him.

  "I'm fine," he told the doctor. "Really. Aside from exhaustion, malnourishment, and my usual complement of psychological problems, I have a clean bill of health. Plus yet more painkillers, just in case. The day I’m not on some kind of drug, we’ll know to prepare for the Apocalypse."

  Nava looked unconvinced, but Ness said, "All right...let's get started so we can have done with the formalities and you can head up to the infirmary. After you see Jason, Nava can have a quick look at you and make her own determinations."

  "As you wish," he said.

  "Why don't you start at the beginning, then? Tell us what you remember of the night you disappeared."

  Rowan set down his beer bottle with an inward sigh. This couldn't be a short briefing if they wanted the whole story. But it couldn't be helped; they needed to know whatever he could tell them, as jumbled and wrong as it all still was.

  He took a deep breath and began to speak.

  *****

  Sara stood beside the bed, keeping silent vigil, as the vampire began to stir, just as Rowan had a few days ago. She had spent a lot of time waiting lately, but she didn't mind; she had an inner certitude that everything was going to be all right. They had Rowan back, and an hour after they'd returned Jason's vitals had begun to come back to normal, a sure indication he would wake soon. He had been waiting for Rowan. He didn't have to wait any longer.

  His eyes were a dull silver--not the predatory color of anger, but something more like the leading edge of a stormcloud, full of emotion but slow to move. He groaned softly and flexed first one hand, then the other.

  "Sara," he said.

  "That's me."

  He looked around, momentarily baffled, and asked, "Where am I?"

  "In the infirmary. You've been asleep for almost a week."

  Jason looked down at himself and made a face. "You let them put me in a hospital gown?"

  "I wasn't here. Sorry."

  He plucked the heart monitor from his hand and yanked out the IV, making Sara wince. One of the machines that had been keeping watch over him beeped out a shrill alarm, but Sara reached over and flipped the switch to turn it off.

  Jason rubbed his hands over his face. "I feel like hell."

  She grinned. "You kind of look it. Do you want me to get you some blood?"

  "No, not..."

  He dropped his hands, staring at the sheets, then lifted his eyes to her and said, "You're back."

  She knew what he meant. "Yeah."

  He shut his eyes and asked hesitantly, "Did...did you find him?"

  Sara smiled again. "Yes, we did."

  "Did you bring him home?"

  She laid her hand on his shoulder. "I promised you I would."

  There was pain etched deeply into his words as he said, "I need to see him. I need to know for sure."

  "Of course. If you're ready, I brought you some clothes. I can take you to him now."

  Now, she could see fear in his eyes, another in a long line of things she had never thought she'd experience. He put his face in his hands for a second, then nodded. "Yes."

  She helped him out of the bed, saddened at how shaky he was; whether from so long asleep or from the aftereffects of the spell, she didn't know. But it would be all right--as soon as he saw Rowan, everything would be fine.

  It took a long time to get clothes on him, but at least he wasn't modest and didn't protest her assistance. "Okay," she said. "Let's go."

  He toyed with the cuff of his shirt. It was strange how young he sounded, how unlike himself. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. “Is...where is he? In the morgue?"

  Sara's mouth fell open.

  Oh my god. He thinks...of course he does, how would he know...

  She couldn't just blurt it out. There was no way he'd believe it. Like he'd said, he had to see.

  "Come on," she said, grabbing his arm. "You have to come with me now."

  "But where--"

  "Just trust me," she cut him off. She pulled him along with her faster than he could really walk, but she knew there was only one thing that was going to help him, one thing that would bring the fire back into his voice and the steel back into his spine. She had to get him there and waste no more time.

  They took the elevator to the lower staff quarters level, and she dragged him down the hall to the apartment.

  He dug his heels in outside the door. "Here?" he asked, panic in his voice. "Why here? Why would they bring him here?"

  "Just go inside," Sara begged. "Please, Jason, just trust me and go inside. You have to."

  "No," he said, shaking his head violently. "I can't see him in there. That's where we were together, where we lived." There were tears in his eyes--real tears--and he was perilously close to hysteria, backing away from the door. "I can't see him in there. I can’t--"

  "Jason, listen to me! You have to walk in that door, and you have to do it right now. I swear to you it's going to be all right, but you have to trust me. Please, Jason, trust me and do as I ask, and I promise..." She was crying too, trying to push him toward the one place he didn't want to go, knowing there was nothing else she could do.

  He sagged back against the far wall, curled up on himself. Sara crouched at his side, touching his face, trying to draw him back out again.

  "Is there...is there a coffin?" Jason asked. "Was there anything left? Did they find bones? Was there blood? How could they know for sure it was him? How do they know?"

  The apartment door opened.

  "We know," Ness said. "Jason...we know. Come and see."

  "I can't...I can't..."

  "Jason," Ness said firmly, "Stand and come into this room. That's
an order, SA-7."

  The directive got through to him enough that he straightened and stood upright on his own again, but he made no move away from the wall.

  Sara grasped both his hands and pulled him forward. "Jason...come with me. I promised you I would bring him home, and I have. Now you need to see him. Come on. It's going to be okay, I promise. I kept my first promise, and I'll keep this one too. Just come with me."

  One step at a time, she coaxed him away from the wall and toward the door that stood halfway open and waiting.

  Ness took up the rear, and Sara the lead, and the two of them eased Jason toward the door, up to the threshold, and past it, into the living room he had shared with his lover...

  His lover, who was sitting on the couch wrapped up in a warm robe and blanket, eating an enormous plate of cookies and drinking a glass of vanilla soy milk.

  His lover, who was very much alive.

  Nava moved out of the way as Jason entered, and the vampire was gripping Sara's arms hard enough to break the bones as he stared, and stared, and stared, unable to even understand a millionth of the scene before him.

  Rowan looked up and saw Jason, and the expression that dawned over his face was like a Spring sunrise, breathing out the promise of hope and renewal, all contained in the smile of an Elf in love.

  They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, and worlds of words and emotions may have passed between them, but as Jason stumbled away from Sara's grasp and crossed the room to where Rowan sat, then fell to his knees and reached out, his hands seeking every inch of flesh he could find, touching to see if it was real, squeezing new muscle and seeking out old places where his hands had always come to rest, the most remarkable thing that had ever been recorded in the history of the Shadow Agency occurred in that living room.

  Jason broke.

  His hands traced the contours of Rowan's face, one thumb brushing across the Elf's lips, and he dared--such a dare, for it was about to change the world--to draw Rowan's mouth to his in a light, almost chaste kiss.

  Then he drew away, his eyes locked on the Elf's...and in the next breath buried his face in Rowan's lap, his entire body wracked with sobs, hands clenching in Rowan's robe, the sound absolutely heartrending, made as much out of grief as it was out of joy.

  Jason wept, and Rowan held him close, murmuring to him as his own eyes filled with emotion. Neither of them seemed to see anyone else, so lost they were in each other, and first Nava, then Ness, then Sara snuck out to leave them to their privacy.

  As they left, Sara too was crying for about the millionth time in the last two months, and she looked over to see that so was Nava, and even Ness was wiping away tears with a linen handkerchief from her pocket.

  Sara was the last to leave the hallway. She paused at the corner, looked back at the door, and said, "Welcome home, Rowan."

  Then, she took the elevator upstairs to the cafeteria, to meet Frog and Sage for dinner and a whole lot of explanations.

  *****

  He slept without drugs, without whiskey, and without nightmares...and when he woke, he was warm and safe, and there were arms around him, a heartbeat against his back.

  It might all be a dream. His fevered mind may have created an illusion to ease the path between sleep and death. But if it was a dream, he was grateful for the dream, and he wanted to stay asleep...forever.

  He was afraid to move--if he woke himself it would all be over. No movement, no sound, no words. He had to hold onto this moment as long as he could, before it slipped away.

  Breath on his neck, a deep inhalation. "You've been using my shampoo."

  Jason shivered involuntarily at the voice that passed through his entire body like the sweetest drug he'd ever known.

  Memory returned. He'd wept until his body gave out, cried himself to sleep in Rowan's lap.

  Rowan. Rowan. He's alive. He's here. Right here with me in this bed. He's really here.

  It was impossible. Absolutely impossible. But Jason turned over gingerly, minding his knees and elbows, and met the deep green and gold-flecked gaze, and again, he had to place his hands upon Rowan's skin and touch him, lightly and reverently, everywhere he could, every inch of exposed flesh warm to his fingers. Warm, and smooth, and real...and pulsing with life.

  Jason wanted to say something--there were so many things he wanted to say--but the only thing that would come out was a confession: "I threw your fruit away."

  There was so much guilt contained in the words that before he knew it he was shaking again, and probably would have wept if he’d had any tears left, into Rowan's shoulder, Rowan's arms around him so strong, and so real, and it had been so long...

  "It's all right," Rowan said to him, rocking him back and forth, stroking his hair. "You did what you had to do."

  "I couldn’t pack away your things. I just couldn't, not yet."

  There was a smile in the Elf’s voice. “I’m glad. It took long enough to unpack the first time.”

  Jason moved back and looked at him, hearing the tiredness in his voice, and realized for the first time how weary he looked. “Are you all right?”

  A measured nod. “Well, I was drugged, beaten, tortured, brainwashed, and stabbed in the back, among other things. All things considered, I’m fantastic.”

  “God.” Now Jason slid his arms around Rowan, sorrow giving way to an exhausted sort of fury that anyone had dared to harm his beloved. He should have been there with the rest of the Agency to help, not asleep. He should have been there.

  “Don’t,” Rowan said into his neck. “None of this is your fault. Those responsible have been held responsible. We’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

  “And you’re really okay?”

  Rowan sighed. “There are a lot of things…there’s so much I need to tell you. So much happened. I’ve already had to unload most of it on Ness for the official record—I don’t know if I can tell it all again just yet.”

  “You don’t have to. We have time.”

  Rowan smiled, and after a brief hesitation he smiled back. “We do,” the Elf said. “We do have time.”

  “I missed you so much.”

  “You, too. I missed you even when I didn’t know I did.” Rowan lay his head on Jason’s shoulder, arm curving around the vampire’s middle, the way they’d fallen asleep a hundred times before. “There’s one thing…I should tell you…while I was gone, I was with someone. He was a Healer, and his name was Kir.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes. He was the one who discovered the truth about the Council, and he set me free. But they killed him.”

  Jason kissed his forehead. “Did you love him?”

  “Yes…at least, the person they created out of me did. I’m not really sure what that means now. I don’t know how much of that life is going to be part of this one. I did things—I hurt people. I just…I’m scared, Jason. Scared that I can’t be who I was anymore, that…some part of me really did die.”

  "Maybe it did," Jason reasoned, the weight of Rowan's hand on his chest making him strangely aware of his heartbeat, as if it had never beat before. "But you don't have to be afraid. Whatever comes, whoever you are...I'm with you. You don't have to face it alone."

  Rowan lifted his head and smiled a little, gazing down into Jason's eyes. "Promise?"

  "I promise." Jason wrapped a hand around Rowan's neck and drew their lips together, adding, "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

  Rowan's tongue slipped into his mouth, and despite their exhaustion they practically devoured each other, putting ten weeks of hunger into a single kiss. Jason moved his hands under the blanket and beneath the Elf's robe, untying it with one hand and pushing it off with the other. Rowan busied himself doing much the same with Jason’s clothes, both of them chuckling at their fingers gone clumsy with impatience.

  Skin met skin. The contact felt electric—suddenly Jason felt he could breathe again after weeks of slow suffocation. He had drifted through life numb and now his senses ha
d all come roaring back with a vengeance. Rowan ducked his head to nibble along the line of his collarbone, and his short hair tickled Jason’s nose, that one pleasant itchiness more wonderful than anything he’d experienced since the night the world blew apart.

  Rowan looked up at him, the old mischief glimmering in his eyes. “How are you feeling? Still tired?”

  Jason snorted. “Yes, that’s tiredness poking you in the thigh right now. And you?”

  The Elf thought about it. “Hungry,” he said. “I would kill for a pizza. I wonder if it’s too late to call for delivery—“