by Dan Wingreen
He supposed it was possible Eallair had a carriage hidden somewhere, or maybe it broke and he couldn't repair it for some reason, but that seemed even less likely than Eallair hitching rides. His accent, and his whole attitude, pretty much ruled out his being a legal citizen, and that was the only way to be assigned a carriage. Since they were tied to a specific person’s magical signature impossible to steal, so that meant he had to walk a good thirty miles each way every time he went to and from the city, unless he had some other place he stayed while there. Still, Aidan couldn't even imagine walking that far in one direction, let alone two.
Taking that burden off Eallair didn't even come close to making Aidan useful, but at least there was something he could offer on their journey. Which was a stupid thought to have, since Aidan hadn't even decided if he was going with Eallair on his quest. He wasn't even sure if he was still invited. Would Eallair really want such a burden dragging him down? If he did, could Aidan even go along with his crazy plan?
It was all too confusing.
He hadn't succeeded in doing anything but make himself more miserable by the time he pulled into the hotel parking lot. Even though he was reluctant to disturb the worn-out sorcerer, he managed to wake Eallair up to find out what room he was in and to get his room key. At first, Aidan thought it was a ridiculous stroke of luck he'd somehow parked almost right in front of it, but he quickly realized Eallair had probably chosen the room for the same reason Aidan had chosen the parking space; it was at the very back of the hotel, completely hidden from the road.
He walked around the carriage—wincing every time he stepped on a rock or other piece of parking lot debris—and opened the passenger door. From there it was a ten-minute struggle to keep Eallair awake long enough to help him stumble into the room and collapse on one of the beds. Thankfully there were two, even if they didn't look all that comfortable. The second to last thing Aidan wanted to deal with was the awkwardness of figuring out sleeping arrangements.
After that, he had nothing to do but sit down on the other bed and think, which was the last thing Aidan wanted to do.
He tried to distract himself by looking around the room. It was small; not even as big as Aidan's apartment. Having never actually been in a hotel before, he didn't know if that was unusual, but he thought the bright yellow paint flaking off the walls and the scratched-up armoire probably were, at least. He couldn't imagine people who weren't hiding from government agents willingly spending their money on hotels otherwise, and since most of the people who could get approval for vacation time were DMS employees anyway, it seemed unlikely they'd put up with such a mess. At least the lamps worked, even if the buzzing was louder in the small space. It would have been just his luck to get a room with a flickering light. Carl would have found it hilarious.
And that one thought was all it took for everything Aidan had been trying for hours not to think about to break through the dam and drown him.
His chest felt hollow, like someone had ripped it out from the inside. How could Carl…they were friends! He thought…he thought Carl understood about the kids. Aidan only wished things could be easier for them, that they could be happy with the only life they could have. He never even blamed the government! He knew why wizards and sorcerers had to be separated, why they had to live different lives. He never once said otherwise. And he thought Carl knew that. He thought Carl agreed with him. He thought Carl cared about him.
Instead, he was just doing his job and reporting everything Aidan said to his superiors.
His superiors, who used his reports, at least partially, as justification for arresting a harmless wizard and torturing him. That was what he had the most trouble wrapping his head around. The government was supposed to take care of the people. Not hurt them. Not kill them. And definitely not have entire rooms dedicated to it, entire agents dedicated to it. He thought of Anwir again. Not the still, disturbingly satisfying corpse, but the cruel, living man who seemed to take pleasure in inflicting pain. His stomach clenched.
Oh no…
He barely made it to the bathroom before losing into the toilet the little bit of lunch he'd managed to eat earlier in the day.
A few minutes later he flushed and went to the sinks to wash his mouth out. They were both scorched almost black from people burning their garbage. It had obviously been a long time since anyone cared which one was the actual fire sink, even longer since anybody bothered to clean them properly. They smelled like old, burnt garbage, and it almost made Aidan sick again to get close enough to one of them to wash his mouth out. When he was done, he went back out to the bed and sat down. He was tired, but his skin crawled at the thought of lying on the old, somewhat dirty-looking bed cover. He could barely bring himself to sit gingerly on the very edge.
What am I going to do?
That, unfortunately, was the question he didn't have an answer to. He couldn't go back to his life. Even if he wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend he didn't know what he now knew about the way things really were, he couldn't survive without a license. His heart ached as he thought of his license sitting there on the stone table with the word REVOKED burned into it. Strangely, that was the worst thing to happen to him today. It was every wizard’s biggest fear, having their registration revoked, but Aidan never thought it would happen to him. Why would it? He followed the law. He supported the government and the prime minister. He worked with kids and always did his best to be a productive member of society, even if his job sometimes made him want to claw his eyes out just for something different to do. He never lost control of himself, even when his magic welled up inside him and he could practically taste it simmering at the back of his throat, begging to be used. He’d done everything he was supposed to, and all it took was one conversation with Eallair to make his near-lifelong efforts worthless.
To Aidan's horror, he felt tears slide down his cheeks again and this time, once he realized he was crying, there was no stopping it. Huge, gasping sobs shook his body as he collapsed onto the bed and curled around himself, completely uncaring of the cleanliness of the cover.
He cried for his license and his WA kids who he'd never see again. He cried for Carl and the friendship he'd thought they had. He cried for his whole life, and the illusions he would have been perfectly happy living under until he died. He even spared a few tears for Eallair.
He had no idea how long he lay on the filthy bedspread, sobbing into his arms. All he knew was he didn't feel any better when he was done. He just felt tired. Nothing was different. He still didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't even know what his options were. Did he even have options? Maybe Eallair was just going to leave him here once he recovered. He wouldn't blame him if he did. Not after Eallair had gotten firsthand experience with just how much dead weight Aidan was. Merlin's sake, he almost died because of Aidan. He couldn't possibly still want him around.
It was almost funny how those two thoughts were somehow worse than everything else.
Aidan started to tear up again, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and keep them from falling.
When he opened them again, it was noticeably darker outside, and he could hear the shower running through the thin walls of the bathroom. He blinked, then lifted his head groggily.
Had he really fallen asleep?
He must have. And on the disgusting cover, too. He made a face and pushed himself up, and only then realized that there was something on top of him.
It was Eallair's jacket.
He froze.
He…he covered me with his jacket?
Aidan didn't know what to think about that. He slowly sat the rest of the way up, catching the jacket when it slipped off his shoulders. It was heavier than it looked. He held it out in front of his face to study it. The burns weren't as bad as they'd looked before, they didn't even go through the leather. Still, it couldn't have been fun to get hit with something that would scorch clothing. There were also more of them than he thought. Some small, some faded. There
were a lot of scratches too, a few that looked like they might have been caused by some kind of blade.
Where could Eallair have possibly been that someone would have attacked him with a blade?
Aidan chewed his lip, then brought the jacket closer and gave into a sudden impulse to sniff it. It smelled…well, like sweat and burnt leather, mostly. But Aidan was surprised to find that he wasn't disgusted by it at all. He carefully placed the jacket next to him with a tiny smile tugging at his lips, pleased in an odd way that Eallair had thought to cover him up with it.
Of course, that didn't mean he still wanted Aidan to go with him.
The smile evaporated. More likely he was trying to be as comforting as possible before he left Aidan to fend for himself. Aidan had no doubt he'd be gentle about breaking it to him, and probably even feel bad about it, but he'd still do it. He had an important quest to finish and Aidan was a liability at best, a life-threatening burden at worst. Eallair wouldn't want Aidan to stay with him.
When had Aidan decided he really wanted to?
It wasn't that he agreed with Eallair about destroying the whole government. Even after today, that still seemed extreme to him. But maybe there was another way to change things? Maybe he could think of something Eallair hadn't? Maybe just waking up Arthur would be enough.
Oh, and Arthur. He really, really wanted to see Arthur.
But, mostly, he really wanted to stay with Eallair. And not only because Aidan would never last a day on his own. As infuriating as Eallair could be, Aidan felt comfortable and safe around him in a way he’d never felt before.
He tensed up slightly as he heard the bathroom door open, but he didn't look up. The carpet was bland and faded, but it was much better than looking at Eallair and seeing him steel himself to tell Aidan he was being left behind.
"Oh, you're up." Eallair sounded a thousand times better than he had in the car, but there was still a thread of tiredness in his voice. There was a slight rustling that sounded an awful lot like jeans being put on and Aidan was suddenly glad he hadn't looked up for entirely different reasons. "Thought you'd be out for a while yet. Shower's free, if you want. Temperature don't much get any better than freezin' or burnin', but…" He paused. "Are you all right?"
No, I'm not all right. You're going to leave me here. Even if it's what I deserve.
He didn't say anything though. Maybe he could put it off a little longer. Just until he couldn't smell the jacket anymore or remember what it felt like on his shoulders. Maybe then it would hurt a bit less.
Aidan almost jumped as Eallair sat on the bed next to him. The jacket was between them, but that was pretty much all the space there was. He could even smell the cheap soap Eallair had used.
"Well, I guess it's not everyday somebody has two worst days ever, so close together like that is it?" Eallair said.
From the way he said it Aidan just knew he was smiling, joking. Aidan didn't laugh.
After a few moments of silence, Eallair cleared his throat sheepishly. "Right then." The bed moved as Eallair shifted. "Look, I know it's not easy, havin’ your life all thrown about like it's been," he said. The teasing was gone from his voice, replaced with a deep regret that had Aidan tensing up as he waited for the worst. "It's been a long time since I was so innocent about the world, but I remember how it feels to lose it. It ain't one of the better things that'll ever happen to you, and I'm truly sorry about that. But, and I know you're probably gonna yell at me for this, it really is for the best. I know your life was yours but it weren't nothing special, not like you could have and—"
"Please stop," Aidan said quietly. He couldn't take anymore…niceness. "Just tell me when you're going. You don't need to drag it out."
Eallair paused. "What?"
Aidan sighed. He really wasn't going to make this easy, was he?
"I know you're not taking me with you. You don't need to be all gentle about it. Just, rip the bandage off, or whatever metaphor you want to use. But, for Merlin's sake, don't be so nice to me first. It just makes it hurt more."
There were a few seconds of silence, and then, "What in the bloody hell are you talkin' about? Why wouldn't I take you with me?"
Aidan shot up off the bed and started pacing back and forth, practically vibrating with agitation. "Why would you?! I almost got you killed. Twice! And you go out of your way to help me when you don't even have to and when you need help, I don't even try to do anything. I just sit there terrified while you fight off a fucking DMS agent super sorcerer when you can barely walk." Aidan stopped and ran his fingers shakily through his hair. "I'm useless. No, I'm worse than useless. I'm a danger to you. I can't look after myself and you just get distracted looking after me."
"Is that what this is about? You…" Eallair sighed. "Do you really think I expect you to go runnin’ in to my rescue? Because I don't. You don't even know how to use your magic—"
"Exactly!" Aidan cut in. "I can't pull my own weight."
Eallair made a frustrated noise. "I never asked you to."
"Because you know I'm useless!" Aidan spun around, looking at Eallair for the first time since waking up, and froze.
He…wasn't wearing a shirt. Which, itself, wasn't really that odd for a man who had just come out of the shower, and if there was a half of Eallair that had to be uncovered it was definitely preferable to the alternative. The toplessness wasn't the problem, or at least not all of it. The problem was Eallair's body.
His entire torso was a mass of scars. Burns, cuts, bite marks from some kind of animal, perhaps more than one, a few disturbingly large gouges, and several Aidan couldn't even identify, covered almost every bit of skin he could see. And that wasn't even counting the fresh scrapes and bruises that looked like they'd barely started to heal. It looked like he was covered in a lifetime of battle. Several lifetimes. Aidan couldn't even imagine the kind of life that would lead to someone having a body like that before they were even out of their thirties. He didn't want to.
The other part of the topless problem was that, even with the scars, Eallair was startlingly attractive without a shirt. He was all slim, strong muscle with very little fat. Aidan lived in a world where most physical activity was viewed with the same distaste as walking through a muddy field, and consequently builds like Eallair's were almost unheard of. Certainly, Aidan had never seen one, not that he'd ever had much opportunity to see anyone without a shirt on. His hair, too, looked a thousand times better unbound and pouring over his tight shoulders and down his lean, muscled back.
Anything else Aidan might have said died in his throat.
"You're not useless," Eallair said.
Aidan barely heard him, but it was enough to drag him out of his thoughts. And to make him realize just what direction those thoughts had turned. He quickly looked away.
"I am," Aidan said roughly. Because realizing he was standing in front of an attractive, topless man didn't mean he hadn't almost gotten that man killed, that he hadn't added more pain to a body that had already seen enough for ten men.
"You aren't.”
"Fine, then I'm worse, like I said."
"Oh for…" Eallair made a disgusted noise. "Would you stop with the bloody self-pityin’ thing?"
Aidan's eyes snapped up to glare angrily. "What? I'm not…there's no self-pitying thing!"
"Really?" Eallair raised an eyebrow. "So you ain't going ‘round with the 'Oh woe is me, I can't do nothin’ right, I don't do nothin’ good and everythin’ bad is all my fault.'"
"That's not what I sound like!" Aidan snapped, then sucked at his lower lip. "But it's not wrong either."
"Oh, come off it," Eallair scoffed. "You're so damn focused on what you think is the bad you're not even seein’ all the good you done me."
"Bullshit. I haven't done anything but put you in danger and make you risk your life since we met."
"That ain’t even close to being true."
"You don't need to coddle me!" Aidan yelled. "Okay? I'm not a child. I might have been wrong about
a lot of things until today, but I know I haven't done you any 'good'."
"Yes, you have—"
"Fine! Name one thing. One thing I did right. Go on, do it." Aidan crossed his arms defiantly.
Eallair sighed.
"See? You can't even think of one thing." Aidan marveled at how he could sound so triumphant when his insides were clenched with disgust in himself.
"You didn't even give me a chance to—"
"To what? Make something up? Tell me—"
"Aidan," Eallair snapped.
Aidan started to glare but the expression died when he saw the way Eallair was looking at him. He'd never seen him direct such an intense look towards him.
"Aidan" he said again, seriously. "I'd be dead if it weren't for you."
Aidan blinked, taken aback by the way he said it. For a second, he almost believed Eallair. He desperately wanted it to be true, but that was stupid; he knew exactly what he did and didn't do. "Bullshit," he said again.
"Bullshit is it?" Eallair asked. "So, it weren't you that helped me escape from the DMS yesterday then?"
Now it was Aidan's turn to scoff. "Oh please. You didn't need my help."
"You sure about that, then? Do you know how I was originally gonna get out of there?" Eallair didn't wait for Aidan to answer. "Through the sewer what connected to the basement, same way I got in. But I was stupid. I got myself trapped in the records room with agents pouring through the doors throwing death at me from all directions. So, I blew it up, with me in it; used up too much damn energy just keepin’ from burning myself to dust before I jumped out the window, too. No way I woulda lasted out in the open like that with every cop in the city coming to right where I was, not on foot." He looked Aidan right in the eye. "The only reason I got away was because you were there, just like a guardian angel right out of the old stories."
Aidan was speechless. He almost didn't believe Eallair, almost scoffed again and dismissed it as Eallair trying to make him feel better out of pity. But the quiet, matter of fact way he told it… If he was lying, he was the best liar in the world.