by Leta Blake
“Whoa, whoa,” Derek said softly, putting out his hands. “What’s going on?”
Neil didn’t reply, shoving an entire shelf of books out onto the floor and shouting at the top of his lungs.
Derek grabbed him from behind. “Shh. Come on. Shh.”
Neil struggled against him, but even stringy Derek was stronger than he was. He collapsed against Derek’s chest, breath coming in heaves.
“Talk to me,” Derek murmured, running his fingers into Neil’s hair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Lee died.”
“Lee who?”
“Lee Fargo. Joshua’s Lee.”
“Oh.” Derek sat them both down on the edge of the bed, the change in angle of the mattress causing more of the books to slide with a crash down to the floor. “And?”
“And he’ll never forgive me,” Neil murmured. “I’m the reason his husband’s dead.”
“You had him murdered?” Derek asked, mouth falling open, though he wrapped his arms around Neil even tighter.
“What? No, you idiot. He died from nanite dissolution failure.”
“In English?”
“Rogue nanites killed him.”
“Damn.” Derek loosened his grip and Neil could breathe a bit more, but the despairing pain came rushing back.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Neil said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Be me. Be this.” He waved at the cascade of books and pushed away from Derek’s embrace. “It’s time for me to move on. Forget Joshua. Forget the past.”
Derek frowned and shoved his dyed black hair out of his face. “Because Lee died? I don’t get it. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?” He paled a little and went on like he didn’t even want to say the next words but forced them out anyway. “Now you can find Joshua, tell him the truth. Be with him.”
“Are you insane?” Neil scoffed. He stood up to pace but was blocked by the mess of books. He kicked one. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Derek’s eyes flickered with hurt. “Hey, now.”
Neil wiped a hand over his face. “No, I’m the stupid one. Thinking that one day he could ever meet me and I could…that we could… That was a dream, Derek. A stupid kid’s dream.”
“I don’t think you were ever a stupid kid.”
“I was a broken one. A freak. You and Mom are right. I should have let this go before now.”
“Why, though? Before now Lee was alive and you had no chance.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
“Right. Because Joshua was happy, and you didn’t want to hurt him. But now Lee’s gone, and, yeah, that’s sad, but if you just give Joshua some time to grieve…” Derek waved his hand around.
“Then what? After letting Joshua hurt for a year I just show up and say, ‘Hi, I’m your dead boyfriend from twenty years ago. How’s it hanging?’ He’d never believe me.”
“I believed you.”
“Because you’re…” Neil waved at him. “You.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re gullible.”
“Thanks, asshole. Also, no one says, ‘How’s it hanging?’ anymore.” Derek chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. “You’d know things only he’d know, wouldn’t you? Things you said to each other. Things you did together. How could he argue with that?”
Neil stared at him, his gut churning. Hope and despair and a weird grief he didn’t understand because he’d never known Lee, not really, mixed inside him like a highly reactive combination of corrosive chemicals. “True. But how can I do that to him? It would be selfish.”
“So?”
“He’s just lost his husband.”
“I’m not saying drive up there right now and tell him everything. I’m just saying that this is your chance. Eventually.”
Neil shook his head. “It’s been twenty years. He’s forgotten about me.” The words of Joshua’s post floated in his mind. When I lost Neil, my first love, I thought I’d never feel pain that bad again. Maybe he wasn’t forgotten, but he was in the past: dead, buried, and grieved.
What kind of asshole would he be to rip that scar open?
Derek tugged him close again. “You just need a good fuck to clear your head,” he whispered, unbuttoning Neil’s dark shirt. “It will all look better after an orgasm.”
Neil gave in, pleasurable oblivion preferable to the unbearable tumult of feelings inside.
Several hours later, Derek was asleep beside him in bed, the books were still all over the fucking place, and Neil’s balls ached from coming. He stared up at the ceiling, considering the speckled plaster.
He wouldn’t purposely reach out to Joshua. But if the time came where they met face-to-face due to nanite research or some odd accident, then he would take it as a sign from whatever source had brought him back. As for what he’d do or say at that time, he’d have to hope he could wing it. There was no amount of practice that would ever make it easier to say he had once been Neil Russell. Maybe the most he could ever hope for would be to simply be in the same room with Joshua again, as Neil Green, nanite researcher and grant applicant, and be content with that.
Until that time arrived—if it ever did—Neil would dedicate himself to making sure all of his future nanite trials and treatments went through the most rigorous trials and tests before moving on to human subjects, the way he’d wanted to do from the beginning. If only he’d been old enough to have any say in the matter. But, at the time of the proto-nanites’ introduction to human testing, he hadn’t even been in college yet.
Careful not to wake Derek, Neil climbed out of bed, bypassed the books, and found his computer. Then he made an anonymous donation of money he didn’t really have in honor of Lee Fargo to World Bicycle Relief.
It was the best he could do.
PART THREE
Chapter Eleven
October 2032—Bowling Green, Kentucky
The Barren River Resort conference room was the same as it had been for as long as Joshua could remember: wood paneling on the walls and a long, beautifully polished table that took up the length of the room. The windows looked out on the shining lake, and the sky reflected in it. Geese flew in from the northern climes and dropped into the lake with a splash.
Joshua stuffed his hands into his pockets, wondering if perhaps he’d been wrong to insist that they have the meeting here instead of the lumber offices. After all, it was just going to be him and two people from Emory University. The pomp and circumstance of the resort conference room was unnecessary. He wondered if it was too late to ask for a smaller room, just to reduce the formality.
“Mr. Stouder,” Brian Peters, his contact from Emory with whom Joshua had worked in the past, called to him jovially. His silver-blond hair was cut shorter than usual, and his glasses glinted with the sun through the window. He was slightly taller than Joshua, but trimmer, with a narrow wrist and slim fingers.
Joshua greeted Brian with a smile and an open palm, shaking effusively.
Joshua hadn’t seen Brian since before Lee’s death. After nanites rewrote both his and Lee’s bodies—erasing Lee’s scars and improving Joshua’s health and extending his youth—Joshua had thought nanites were the answer to every doctor’s and patient’s prayers. Not to mention the anti-aging effect of nanite creams, which repaired cellular damage to surface skin! Joshua was vain enough to enjoy the fact that, for anyone who could afford it, it was possible to look years younger than one’s actual age. And then, of course, there was Dale’s success story. The nanites had repaired his leg and all the nerve damage, and that had been the cherry on top of the proof pudding, as far as Joshua and Lee had been concerned.
But in the end, the prototype nanites that had removed Lee’s scars had also caused Lee’s death. And in the darkness of grief, Joshua had found himself asking a lot of difficult questions about whether or not he could stomach funding further nanite research. The increase in nanite-related deaths in recent
years indicated to Joshua that an overzealous application of a too-new technology had been allowed without appropriately rigorous testing and trials.
It’d been almost two years since Lee had collapsed and died. Joshua was gradually coming out of the worst of it, but despite many persuasive grant requests, he still hadn’t authorized any more nanite funding to be sent out. And he wouldn’t. Not until he was guaranteed he’d be working with someone responsible and fastidious enough to go through the rigorous testing that Joshua would require now before any nanite experiments went to human trials. That’s part of what Brian was promising him.
“Where’s your protégé?” Joshua asked just as the young man entered the conference room. He was the entire reason Brian had wanted to meet in person.
“Dr. Green is a genius,” Brian had said during their conference call. “If you don’t at least meet him, you’re not being fair to yourself or to the world at large. Admittedly, he’s egotistical and demanding as hell, but that’s why he’s so impressive. Brilliant. Knows more about nanite development than I do and has a mind that can solve problems before they even start. So while he might not be the sweetest pill to swallow, I hope you can look past his poor social skills, Mr. Stouder.”
But Joshua didn’t know if he could look past what he saw now.
His chest went tight, and he couldn’t breathe. He stared at the kid in front of him, dressed casually for such an important business meeting in a black button-up shirt and dark jeans, both of which made him look even skinnier than he already was. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, with blue eyes and curly, chestnut-brown hair, a long neck, and a jawline that was remarkably similar to…was very much like….
The realization struck him like a blow, and he felt the world tip as though going off its axis.
The boy was identical to Neil at that age.
Joshua knew it. He knew it without any pictorial evidence, or reason to believe, but it remained true all the same.
“Mr. Stouder,” Brian said proudly, “may I introduce Dr. Green? He’s the young man I’ve been telling you about.”
Joshua licked his lips and put out his hand, taking Dr. Green’s long, cool fingers into his own to shake. The grip was firm and too familiar. Joshua let go and, still feeling the tingling imprint of Dr. Green’s hand on his, tucked his hands under his arms to stamp out the sensation. He tried to say something, but nothing came. Dr. Green’s lips twitched into a small, familiar smile, and Joshua blinked. Memories flooded through him, hard and fast. He pressed a hand over his eyes, trying to get a grip.
“Mr. Stouder?” Brian asked, sounding worried. “Are you okay?”
Joshua took a deep breath through his nose and forced himself to be present. He tore his gaze away from Dr. Green’s blue eyes and looked at Brian. Dots swirled in his vision. “I’m sorry. I need a moment. I’ll be right back,” Joshua said, and he stepped out into the hallway, booking it toward the balcony facing the lake.
He pulled open the exit door, and when it was safely closed behind him, he took a few long, deep breaths of the cooler air. A few memories of Neil raced through his mind as he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes again. What would Neil say? He muttered to himself, “Get a grip, Joshua. You can do this. Go in there, hear them out, and tell them whether or not they can have your money. He’s just a kid, not a ghost.”
Not a ghost. Joshua took another long breath, studied the shimmering lake for a moment, and on the exhale shook his head. He laughed softly at himself. He’d been silly to freak out like that. He didn’t know why he’d even let the resemblance get to him. It probably wasn’t even as strong a resemblance as he’d imagined.
Joshua stepped back into the conference room and swallowed. The kid, Dr. Green, looked so much like a young Neil that Joshua was immediately awash in sweaty panic.
“I apologize,” Joshua said, breathless again. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” It was true enough. He’d had nightmares most of the night about Lee’s death.
Dr. Green looked at him with an expression that could only be described as perceptive, and Joshua felt exposed, like Dr. Green knew exactly why he had taken off out of the room.
They all sat down at the conference table as Joshua went on, “I’m ready to hear your proposition, though I have to warn you in advance, because of my past, your chances aren’t great.”
“I guess some things don’t change,” Dr. Green murmured, and Joshua blinked at him.
“Excuse me?” Joshua asked.
“Ignore him,” Brian said. “Social niceties escape him at times, despite being the most amazing student I’ve ever met.”
“Scientist,” Dr. Green corrected. Even his voice sounded like Neil’s had.
Joshua shivered hard, like he was cold, and his teeth chattered a bit.
“And he’s great with dogs,” Brian said, obviously trying to take the edge off the strange moment. “He trained my Muppet to behave in just a few hours’ time. My wife was thrilled.”
Dr. Green shrugged, not meeting Joshua’s eye any longer. “I like dogs.”
“I don’t know why you don’t have one,” Brian said with a smile. “Might get you out of the lab more if you did.”
Dr. Green shrugged, a gesture so intimately familiar that Joshua couldn’t breathe.
Joshua put his hand over his mouth to hold back a sound. He wasn’t even sure what it would be, exactly—a sob? A moan? Something that hurt deep down, something that shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. That much he knew for sure.
He’s a kid, not a ghost, Joshua told himself again.
“Did you grow up with dogs?” Joshua asked, choking on the words.
“No,” Dr. Green said. His gruff voice rubbed Joshua in all kinds of ways. “I always wanted one, but my mother was allergic. And there wasn’t enough money to go around as it was, so no allergy shots. Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair to add another mouth to feed.” He held Joshua’s gaze. “It’s important to make good choices about when to bring an animal into your life.”
Joshua stared at him, cold trickling through his veins. “When did you learn to train dogs?”
Brian darted glances between them, a frown gathering between his brows, obviously trying to make sense of the weight in Joshua’s tone.
Dr. Green didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked his own. “Are you in need of a dog trainer?”
Joshua shook his head hard. “No.”
“Are you okay, Mr. Stouder?” Brian asked, tilting his head.
“I’m fine. I think I ate something that disagreed with me. Let’s get started,” Joshua said, gesturing toward the files Brian had brought along. He blinked at his own lie. He never lied. So why had he now?
They settled down to business with Joshua at the head of the table, and Brian passed him a thick folder of documents. Joshua opened it and began to flip through them to avoid looking at Dr. Green more than he had to. He wasn’t going to lose his mind. Not right now. Not in a business meeting.
Joshua blinked at the pages in front of him, trying to make sense of the words, wondering if he just needed to call off the meeting entirely, or reschedule it for a day when he wasn’t so tired and emotional. He hated to waste Brian’s time, though. He needed to get himself together.
“As I was saying,” Brian said, giving Dr. Green a warning look that Joshua interpreted as a scolding in advance for whatever Dr. Green might be about to say. “I’m sure you’re familiar with Dr. Green’s work from the information I provided.”
Joshua couldn’t say that he was familiar with Dr. Green’s work at all, actually. He supposed he really should have spent some hours getting familiar with the information. There was a time when he would have stayed up all night to do just that. But, since Lee’s death, he didn’t see the point in a lot of things anymore. And working his ass off was one of them.
It was strange how grief was so different each time he lost someone. When Neil and his grandfather had died, work was the thing that saved him. When h
is dad had passed away, he’d been strangely balanced about it all, but then Lee had been there to soothe his pain. Since Lee had died, though, things seemed to matter a lot less to him. Stouder Lumber was still an occasional hassle, but Joshua had learned to compartmentalize it. All in all, he just didn’t have the desire to invest so much in the world now.
Lee had been gone almost two years, and Joshua was doing just fine. But ‘just fine’ was different from what it had been before. It was a lot quieter and more sedate; there was time for sitting and staring out a window, or reading a book, or planting a garden in the back yard the way they’d talked about for years but had never done.
Life was bittersweet now. Joshua missed the man he’d planned to grow old with, but he also felt like he’d been really lucky. Damn lucky. He’d had Lee for years. He’d known the details of him, and the stories of his childhood, and the feel of him in his arms. While he could honestly say that losing Lee hurt like hell, like a part of him had been amputated without warning, somehow all that they’d shared between them tempered it.
It was easier than when he’d lost Neil. Because even twenty years after Neil’s death, Joshua was still haunted by the things—big and small—he didn’t know. Things that no one would ever know about Neil. And he was regretful of all they hadn’t had a chance to share.
Losing Lee was hard, but Joshua knew which kind of grief was worse.
Joshua realized that Dr. Green was talking, and had been for some time. His voice was low in pitch and yet expressive, rolling up and down in ways that were achingly familiar as well. Joshua shook his head, trying to stop thinking of Neil’s chuckle, or the way he’d cup Joshua’s cheek after kissing him, or rub a thumb over his lower lip.
Joshua didn’t think he could do this.
“…nanites shouldn’t be misused for vanity,” Dr. Green was saying. “They are quite possibly the greatest healing tool of all time. And yet how are they typically applied? For our petty desires to be the hottest, most attractive people possible. Tossing them into moisturizers so that we can look fifteen forever—look at you, for example, Mr. Stouder—”