Rule of Thirds

by Aidan Wayne

  “And you fucking missed,” Jason muttered. “Hesitated, so you didn’t shoot me high enough. You’re supposed to aim for the meat of the shoulder, not the rib cage, Jesus fucking ow. If this was a real deal, your target’d be bleeding out right now. And probably not talking.”

  “Sorry,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ll do better. I know I’m a couple seconds off.”

  “Sure,” Jason said, fighting down a wince. “Just gimme a minute.”

  Shade snarled again, long and loud, enough that Tyson stepped back.

  “I think what Shade means is that, as your Companion, he feels you’ve done enough for today, recovering as you are,” said Chase, voice clipped. “I admit to feeling partial to that sentiment.”

  Jason pushed the pain aside and sat up, looking from Shade to Chase. They both looked shaken up, and Shade was actually trembling a little, hands clenched. Chase seemed slightly better, but then he—hadn’t apparently heard Jason get shot.

  Jason didn’t want them in his life, but he had them either way. He knew he hadn’t been the best in the last couple of weeks. He didn’t want to hurt them more.

  “Okay,” Jason said after a moment. “I guess I’m done for the day. Tyson, I’ll write up your assessment at home and send it over, sound good?”

  “Yessir,” Tyson said, saluting. “Thank you, sir. It was an honor to train with you again.”

  “Same,” Jason said. “Wouldn’t mind just a regular sparring session with you sometime.”

  “But not now,” Chase said, standing up and offering Jason a hand. “Right?”

  “Not now,” Jason allowed, taking it.

  THE RIDE back was… awkward. Shade seemed apoplectic with rage, and even Chase just sat through the drive in stony silence. And it was a killer on Jason’s back too. He couldn’t help wincing every time he shifted in his seat.

  “We’re not taking the stairs today,” Chase said, when they got into Jason’s building. Jason dreaded it, but he let himself be led over to the elevator. He could deal with being trapped in one for a few minutes, if it made his Companions feel better. The sooner they felt he was “better,” the sooner they’d back off.

  At least the ride up was quick, and then Jason was unlocking the door to his place, stepping inside followed closely by Chase, Shade bringing up the rear. Shade immediately disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Come on,” Chase said, telegraphing his movements at reaching toward Jason’s shoulder. Jason shrank back, and Chase withdrew his hand, clenching it. “Let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Jason asked.

  “To your room,” Chase said. “You’re lying down, and I’m going to work on your back. You must be one giant bruise right now. You need to get it treated, at least by working it out.”

  “Work on my back?” Jason said, freezing.

  “Please,” Chase said, tone a touch desperate. “Please let us help. You didn’t hear Shade when the bullet—Please.”

  “I’m really fine. I mean it. He just hit me with a rubber bullet. There’ll be some bruising, but I’ve had way worse.”

  “It doesn’t matter that you’ve had worse, Jason! You’re hurting now. I—this is what I’m supposed to do. If you don’t want us here, you’re free to send us away and get assigned new Companions, but while we are here, you need to let us try to actually help you!”

  “I don’t want your help! I want you to stay away from me so you’ll be safe! I want everyone to stay away from me so they’ll be safe!”

  Chase froze where he stood. “Do you want to send us away? You could—you could contact the agency. There were at least three other matches that I know of, I’m sure—”

  “Don’t.” Jason let out a shaky breath. “You know that doesn’t matter. You know I’d be just as bad with any other Companion.”

  “Jason, please. What can I do?”

  Shade came back into the hall and stepped behind Jason again. He was carrying several ice packs, a towel, and a bottle of water. “Sorry,” he said, glaring down at the floor. “Shade’s fault.”

  Jason looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Shade got hurt. Now Jason mad. Been mad. No trust.”

  Jason scrubbed a hand over his hair, ignoring how the movement made his back flare. “I barely know you two.”

  “That’s because you withdrew the moment something happened,” Chase said. “You could know us. You were… you were starting to. Before.”

  Before Shade ripped his hands apart trying to get into Jason’s room. Jason stayed silent, shifting on his feet. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. His back hurt, and he was running on adrenaline, and he just wanted to go hit his bag.

  “Jason,” Chase said, tone a lot softer. “Can we compromise? Just go and sit on the couch? I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but ice your back at least. Please.”

  He was offering a way out of the talk they kept putting off. Jason wasn’t dumb enough not to take it. “Okay. Couch is fine.”

  Chase insisted that Jason actually lie down on the couch on top of the ice pack, and Jason complied if only to let the AI think he’d won something. Chase sat down in the armchair, Shade moving to sit on the floor in front of him.

  “We could watch something?” Chase offered.

  Jason swallowed. “Sure. Pick whatever. I don’t care.”

  With the television playing in the background, Jason let his mind drift, trying to think up a solution. Companions were nonnegotiable. Work wouldn’t let him back in the field if he kept failing his psych evaluations, and Chase and Shade, for lack of a better description, were his twenty-four-hour psych evals. He needed to get along with them, and he needed to do it in a way he could handle. That meant letting them in at least a little bit. Enough that they could be convinced he was getting better. That was all he needed.

  He could… make some accessions.

  “Shade, Chase.”

  “Yes, Jason?”

  “I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated with the situation. I’m mad that Shade got hurt because of me. I’m mad that, if he had managed to get into my room, I would have done the hurting. And I’m mad that I can’t fix this. I know I’m not easy. I can’t make any promises. But I do want to be better.” I want to work. “It’s… going to take me a while.”

  “Jason, that’s fine,” Chase said. “You’re dealing with incredible amounts of trauma. Neither of us expects that you’ll be better quickly. This takes time. All we’re asking is that you let us try to help. That you let us in, so we can best do that.”

  “I don’t know how to be better,” Jason said, the words punching out of him. “I don’t—I don’t know how to be anything but this.” And then Chase was right next to him, kneeling in front of the couch. Jason tensed, wincing as his back engaged, but he didn’t move. That was something, that he knew not to attack.

  “Can I touch you?” Chase begged. “Just a touch of comfort. On your arm. Anything. Please.”

  Jason had to try. He wanted to work. And, well, he knew it would put Chase at ease too. He offered up his hand.

  Chase carefully wrapped his fingers around Jason’s, bowing his head over it. It was a warm, steady pressure. Not unpleasant. Jason swallowed again and let Chase take what he wanted.

  Chase really was getting comfort from this too.

  It made his stomach hurt, that Chase obviously cared so much, wanted to help take care of him. Jason knew he was difficult. He didn’t know how much he could manage.

  But at the end of the day, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to hurt Chase. So if this helped him, Jason could let him hold his hand.

  He tried to control his breathing, let himself relax a little more, let his eyes slide closed.

  JASON SNAPPED awake an unknown amount of time later, breathing hard, not sure where he was. He froze where he lay, felt the presence of a warm body close next to him, holding his hand, thumb stroking over the back of it. He was thrumming with tension but unwill
ing to attack before determining the situation.

  Then he recognized his living room ceiling, placed the faintest of whirrings that was Chase breathing next to him, holding on to his hand with both of his own. Shade was sitting up near the other end of the couch, watching him.

  “Are you awake?” Chase asked softly, as if not to startle.

  “Yeah,” Jason said, throat scratchy. His back hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as it would have been. The ice was helping. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Please,” Chase said. “We were thrilled. Can you get back to sleep again? You could, if you wanted to. You have nothing else to do today.”

  Jason shook his head. It’d been a miracle that he’d managed to fall asleep at all, an entire effort of trying to relax his body. Now he was trying very hard not to feel trapped, and it wasn’t working.

  “Once I’m up, I’m up.”

  “Oh well,” Chase sighed. “Better some over none. Shade?”

  Shade made a questioning sound, moving even closer to Jason, one hand hovering over Jason’s leg. Jason held himself still and controlled his breathing. He was too warm. But he was trying, dammit.

  “Too much?” Shade asked, looking up at Jason’s face.

  “Yes,” Jason bit out.

  “It’s fine,” Chase said quickly, as Shade moved away again, sitting back on his feet. “Jason… thank you. I can’t express how much it means to us that you allowed yourself to sleep.”

  Jason shrugged and sat up gingerly, tugging his hand back. Chase let go without a fuss. “I said I would try. This is me trying.”

  “And it means a lot. It does. This all works on your efforts, Jason. Whatever you put in, that’s what you’ll get out. That’s how you start to heal.”

  Right. Sure.

  No, no, if he was going to do this, he needed to stop the internal negativity. There was only so much you could do if your thoughts didn’t match what went on outside of them.

  Jason glanced at the television. One of his reality cooking shows was playing, entertaining but easy, and no threat in any way. He took a breath and then moved to the very end of the couch and, after a second, forced himself to pat the cushion next to him.

  “You could, um. You both could sit. If you want to.”

  The two androids glanced at each other and then both moved at once, still slowly, to sit on the couch, Chase in the middle and Shade at the end.

  Jason stayed close to his side, but after several moments Shade and Chase shifted so that they were tucked up into each other. Jason guessed they both needed comfort too, and he felt bad about it. If Shade really had heard a bullet hit him, then no wonder they were both feeling so upset. And he hadn’t been doing much to help the situation either.

  Regardless of whether or not he wanted them around, they were his Companions. He was the one who’d picked them. Which meant he had to try even harder to protect them.

  Scaring or upsetting someone hurt just as much as physical wounds sometimes.

  He steeled himself and scooted a little closer to the middle, noting how Chase was staying completely, utterly still, eyes glued to the screen. Letting Jason move at his own pace. He appreciated that. It was one of the reasons he could move at all.

  Chapter Five

  THINGS GOT a little easier once Jason started to actually try again. He stopped hiding in his room as much, and the three of them spent a lot of time on the couch, watching Jason’s shows or reading while Jason practiced his languages.

  Jason still woke up screaming in languages Shade didn’t understand, but though it tore him apart to stand by and not do anything, he’d learned his lesson and let him scream.

  Shade spent a lot of nights curled up in front of Jason’s door. He was getting better at moving as soon as Jason opened the door, to keep from startling him and to avoid getting stepped on.

  “You don’t have to keep doing this,” Jason said. They were in the living room again, Jason’s hands curled around a mug of tea Chase had made. “My sleep isn’t going to get better. You can’t help that. And you’re both losing out on sleep yourselves.”

  Chase shook his head. Shade knew he was feeling drained, but that was nothing that plugging in couldn’t fix. “We can plug in and power down anytime,” he said. “But if you’re active at night, you need companionship at night. That’s how it works.”

  “But it doesn’t help. Shade sleeping at the foot of my door doesn’t help me. If anything it makes things worse because I’m worrying about you two.”

  “Don’t,” Shade said. “Doesn’t hurt.”

  Jason turned to Chase. “You can’t be happy that he’s lying down like a dog in front of my door.” And then he froze, eyes going wide. “Fuck, that came out wrong, I—”

  Shade growled, hated that that was his first reaction, and forced it down, fists clenched and shaking. “Fine,” he bit out.

  “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry—”

  “Fine,” Shade said, glaring, before he stood up in a rush. His hand mods were coming out, and he didn’t want to let Jason see them. He needed to just—get away for a minute. He could go to his room. Chase was there, Chase could stay with Jason while Shade went and acted unreasonable.

  Stupid triggers. Stupid words. Stupid master.

  No! Not master, you don’t have a master, you are a person, an Acting Individual with sentient thoughts and feelings, calm down calm down. It was just a stupid slip. Jason was human. He was allowed those.

  Shade slammed the door of his room shut and let out a snarl, pacing around, back and forth, back and forth. Not a minute had passed before there was a knock on the door.

  “Shade? It’s Chase. Can I come in?”

  “Chase’s room too,” Shade growled out.

  “That’s not what I asked. Can I come in?”

  Shade stomped over to the door and yanked it open. “What,” he managed. “Why here. Be with Jason.”

  “Jason fled to his room and is probably beating himself up as we speak,” Chase said calmly. He held out his hand. “Shade, talk to me?”

  Shade bared his teeth. “No talking!” He wasn’t allowed to talk. No, no he was absolutely allowed to talk stop it stop it stop it.

  “Shade!” Chase grabbed Shade’s wrists before he managed to start clawing at his throat. “Shade, you’re safe. You’re here, with me. We’re in Jason’s apartment. He’s our new person. He made a mistake and called you something he didn’t mean, and he’s very sorry about it. I think he would like to apologize, when you’re able to give him a chance. I’m here with you, and we’re just going over to the bed now. Let’s sit down? Can you sit down with me, Shade?”

  Shade whimpered and sat next to Chase, pulling his hands free so he could wrap them around Chase’s middle and bury his face in the folds of his shirt. He sat there and shook for a long time, letting Chase’s hands run up and down his back.

  Eventually he rubbed his face in Chase’s shirt and then pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “Better now.”

  “Are you?”

  Shade nodded. The commands had quieted. He was feeling better.

  He could also just make out the sound of Jason’s sharp breaths, the kind from exertion, now that the pounding in his own ears had settled. “Jason upset.”

  “He’s mad at himself. You should have seen him after you—left. He was… not happy.”

  “Should talk to him,” Shade said, shifting. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to talk to Jason. He didn’t want to move.

  “You don’t have to right now, if you don’t want to.”

  “Should. Jason upset.”

  “And so are you, Shade. Your feelings are not less important than his.”

  Shade didn’t bother arguing. Even if he didn’t agree, he knew Chase never would concede the point. They’d just go on forever, and he didn’t feel like talking much as it was. “Chase okay?”

  “I’m fine, Shade.”

  Shade growled again and held out his
hand. “Sync.”

  “Of course.”

  As soon as they were synced up, Shade said, You’re dealing with not one but two traumatized individuals, and both of them just got set off. How are you doing? Chase was the sort of person who tucked his feelings down and never let anyone know if things were bothering him. It had taught Shade to be a little less self-centered, to keep checking in. Because if he didn’t, Chase would never say anything.

  There was a long, pause then, I’m worried. I’m worried about you, and I’m worried about Jason. I’m worried that everything is one step forward two steps back. He… he retreated the last time you got hurt, and that was wholly incidental. This time it was his words that hurt you, and I know he’s going to blame himself for that, and I just—I worry about the both of you. That he won’t give us the time he needs to get better. That you’ll keep getting hurt too.

  I’ve been triggered by worse, Shade said, the growling starting up again. At least Jason actually apologized for it.

  That doesn’t make it any easier for you.

  It does. He cares. That helps. And we’re not supposed to be talking about me anymore.

  What do you want me to say? I’m worried! That’s it. I’m concerned that this isn’t going to work, because he won’t let us, and it’s no one’s fault, but it’s nothing I can fix. I can’t help if he doesn’t let me, and I just have to—sit here and idly watch while both of you are in pain—Chase was shaking. I want to fix it, and I don’t know how. I’m supposed to be here for him, and we both know how well that’s going. I’m supposed to be there for you, and half the time I can’t even manage that—

  You are not blaming yourself for my triggers, Shade said, tone sharp. Unless I’m supposed to blame Jason for setting me off. It’s stupid. It happens. I get over them.

  I know. I’m sorry.

  You can’t fix everything, Chase.

  That’s my job!

  And you’re very good at it. But some things don’t get fixed. They just get dealt with. I’m… I’m never going to be best; I’m just going to be better. I can’t go back to the way I was before. Jason can’t either. Our whole point is to get him to a place where he can be happy the way he is now.