Rule of Thirds

by Aidan Wayne

  With a sigh, Shade added quietly, “Modded. Didn’t want… to take off hands to fix.”

  “Oh,” Jason said, looking down at Shade’s nails. He couldn’t even imagine—literally getting taken apart and being put back together and not having a say on any of it. Worse than anything he’d ever been through. He reached out, almost touching Shade’s hand with his own. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay, yeah, that’ll work.”

  “And Chase?”

  “Chase’ll watch,” Jason said immediately. “Just in case. If I get… dangerous, both of you’ll be able to keep me down long enough for me to come back.”

  Shade beamed. “Glad. Chase wanted to watch. Didn’t want to ask. Was worried.”

  “Nah, that’s—I’d rather him be there. Just in case. Two against one, you know?”

  “Yes,” Shade said, and… that wasn’t an expression Jason recognized. He coughed, trying to tamp down how nervous he was.

  “Okay,” he said. “Uh. When? Now?”

  “If okay,” Shade said.

  “Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Might as well get it over with. And maybe if they really saw what they were dealing with, they’d—Jason fought down a shudder. “Okay, I’ll go… get my room ready, and you get Chase? Just knock.”

  “Yes,” Shade said, before smiling again at Jason and heading toward the living room. Jason watched him go with a rising fear he did his best to keep under control. No one had entered his room besides him in ages, and he wasn’t sure how well he’d handle it. Or how Chase and Shade would take it, seeing his room for what it really was. He’d managed to avoid that so far.

  But he couldn’t do anything about that now. He quickly ducked inside and closed the door, giving it a check-over. Made sure his computer was turned off, that all his stuff was put away neatly, stored in the closet. He rolled his standing bags over into a corner, to free up as much mat space as he could.

  On his second pass around the room, Jason went to his training case and pulled out his Taser. He’d give it to Chase to use, just in case.

  The knock that came a moment later startled him, to the point that he aimed the Taser at the door before dropping his arms and letting out a breath. He was really on edge, which only made this bad idea even worse. Maybe he could ask Shade to reschedule. Or they could do this at the base’s training hall, where there could be proper supervision.

  For now, though, he opened the door and, for the first time in months, let someone else come into his room.

  To the Companions’ credit, they didn’t comment on the matted room, on the two punching bags in the corner, or the little desk that they were shielding. Chase pursed his lips, probably at the lack of anything else, but he didn’t say anything about the fact that Jason didn’t have any decorations. Or a bed.

  “So,” he said a moment later, voice bright, “Shade says you’re willing to play tag?”

  “Is that what he’s calling it?” Jason asked, trying to control his breathing. “But yeah. Yeah, maybe I just—here.” He flipped the Taser and shoved the base in Chase’s direction. “For you to use, just in case.”

  They both stared at it. Chase made no move to take it. “Jason,” he said carefully, after a moment. “What is this?”

  “Taser,” Jason said shortly. “Long-distance reach. Just in case.”

  “No!” from Shade. “Not—no.”

  “Look, it’s just in case, okay? I can’t—I can’t risk you.”

  “Jason,” Chase said, “You really think that after two months, you’ll just—snap if you and Shade roll around a little?”

  Jason hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s a possibility. I know I’m unstable. And you’ve—you’ve helped a lot. But I can’t—it’s just in case,” he said again.

  “You still don’t trust yourself at all, do you.”

  “No,” Jason said, feeling his hands shake. “Not one bit.”

  “But you train with Tyson all the time?” Chase said, the words a question.

  “Tyson’s got experience,” Jason said. “And he knows me, how I fight. There are always people monitoring, and our sessions are recorded because the info is valuable. And he’s got standing orders to shoot me in the event I snap.”

  Shade snarled. “Who ordered?”

  “I did,” Jason said with a sigh. “Tranqs, not to kill. But it’s still a protection he has that you don’t. I-I can’t do this if you don’t agree.”

  Shade opened his mouth again, but Chase laid a hand on his shoulder to forestall it, his other hand outstretched, palm up. “All right,” he said. “I agree.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise,” Chase said, solemn. “If I think you are going to seriously harm Shade or me, I’ll use it. Okay?”

  Jason sagged with relief and handed the Taser over. “Okay.”

  “But, Jason—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Jason, I won’t do this if it’s pushing you into a place you don’t want to be. Neither will Shade. He’d love to play with you and show you what he means when he uses that word, and I… I admit to wanting to see it and hope that it might open you up a little more. But we’re reaching trigger levels here.” Chase hefted the Taser. “And I need to make sure you’re feeling safe. That it isn’t hurting you to try to do this.”

  Jason had stopped caring after Chase said both he and Shade wanted this so much. “It’s fine. I can do it. I want to,” he added quickly, when Shade narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “Jason.” And that was Shade coming up to put his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “Jason, no. Is fine. Not now. Later. Think and then later. Okay?”

  Jason swallowed. “No,” he said, and he wasn’t sure why he was fighting for this except that he did. “I… I do want to—try. I want to.” He clenched his fists. “I want to be able to do this with you, and—play with you, and have it be real and fun and not make it something awful. I just, I don’t know if I can.” His voice might’ve cracked on that last word, and he let his gaze drop to the floor.

  He hadn’t felt that exposed in a while, standing in the middle of his room while Chase and Shade looked at him, expressions soft.

  “Sorry,” Jason forced out, feeling like the words were choking him. “You’re right. I’m not ready. I won’t—”

  “No.” And that was Chase. “No, Jason, let’s try. At least we can try? But if anything, if anything happens, I am telling you right now, neither of us will blame you. And we’ll care about you just the same after. You—there’s nothing you could do that would be worse than pushing us away. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jason whispered. Shade squeezed his shoulders once, a signal asking Jason to look up. He did.

  “Jason,” Shade said. “I… have been hurt. Before. This will not be hurt.” He smiled hesitantly before stepping away. “You are it.”

  “I’m what?”

  Shade ran in, tapped Jason on the head, then darted away again. “You are it!”

  Jason looked at Chase with a confused frown. Chase smiled back at him. “I did say it was a friendly game of tag. Try to catch him. You win if you pin.”

  “That’s it?” Jason asked, darting another look at Shade, who was on the other side of the room, posture posed to run.

  “That’s it,” Chase said, voice gentle. He was holding the Taser loosely, letting it dangle between his fingers. “I’m pretty sure you can handle it.”

  “Jason is being slow,” Shade said, and his voice was colored with so much teasing that Jason couldn’t help take a step toward him, feeling lighter.

  “Slow? I’ll show you slow.” He rushed forward and Shade laughed, darting out of the way.

  It really was just a game of tag, and Jason felt silly over getting so wound up about it. For all that he was fast, Shade was just as agile, darting and leaping away anytime Jason got close.

  The room was only so big, though, and while both he and Shade made use of the walls and the bags to avoid getting tagged, eventually Jason managed to tap Shade on the head. Shade
responded by grabbing Jason’s arm and pulling, throwing Jason off balance.

  Jason tucked into a roll, but by then Shade had leaped on top of him, though on and off so quickly Jason could barely get his hackles up. “Pinned,” Shade singsonged, from his new position next to Jason, where he was holding on to his wrist. “Counts.” And Jason appreciated that more than he could put into words.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Point to you. Best two out of three?”

  Shade grinned. “Yes.” He crouched again, at the ready. Jason didn’t need any prompting this time to put some effort into it, no longer confused about what he was doing.

  The second time around he got Shade around the wrist, pulling him down as they both tumbled to the floor, Jason careful that he got the brunt of the impact. And then Shade was laughing and Chase was smiling too, and Jason couldn’t help but feel—happy. Happy and full and warm and…

  Wanting.

  And that was so many levels of not okay. He couldn’t let this become more in his head. He couldn’t. It was just so many levels of—they were already a matched pair. He swallowed down bile, feeling as though he’d been doused in cold water. With plenty of real experience to compare that feeling to, this was still worse.

  “I’m gonna have to take a rain check on the tiebreaker,” he managed, once he was able to find his voice again.

  “Jason?” Shade asked, sitting up, concern coloring his voice. “What’s wrong?” Chase set the Taser down on the floor and came farther into the room, kneeling down next to them both. He rested a hand on Jason’s back, and Jason still had to fight down the reflexive shudder, the need to press back into the touch.

  “Jason?” And god, god, they were both looking at him.

  “Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I need a minute.”

  “Of course,” Chase said. “When you’re ready.”

  Jason kept his eyes closed and breathed, focusing on the hand at his back and Shade on his other side, here and safe and things were okay even if Jason was messed up in the head and he wanted more than he should ever be allowed to have. Chase and Shade were still supports next to him, just waiting.

  “Sorry,” he said again, opening his eyes. “I….” He let out a harsh breath. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. Besides, you know. The usual mess. I shouldn’t—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw.

  “Shouldn’t what?” Chase asked gently. Always so gentle, like Jason actually mattered. And that was his job. Remember, you fuckwit. His job. This was both of their jobs; they were Delegate assigned and government approved, and Jason was not about to mess that up.

  “Nothing,” Jason said. “It’s not important. I—maybe I need some time alone. Please.”

  “Jason?” Shade carefully wound his fingers through Jason’s. “Tell?”

  “It’s nothing—It’s nothing.”

  Shade scowled, and Jason flinched, unable to help it. Picturing that expression aimed at him, for what he’d been thinking about.

  “Shh, no,” Shade said immediately, bringing Jason’s hand up to his mouth and kissing it before Jason could jerk away. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

  “Jason?” Chase was rubbing small circles underneath Jason’s shoulder, and it felt so much like being taken care of, so good, so missed, that Jason had to stifle a sob. The hand froze, and then Chase was wrapping himself around Jason’s back, everything Jason needed and wrong. “Jason, tell us what’s wrong, please.”

  “I—I need to—” He paused, reined himself in, resolute. “I need to make a phone call.”

  Shade and Chase exchanged looks.

  “…all right,” Chase said eventually, pulling away and leaving Jason aching. “But we’ll be right outside your door. Is that okay?”

  Jason scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sure, okay. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Chase said quickly. “But please, if you could tell us what’s wrong afterwards—”

  “No sorries.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jason scrambled for his phone as soon as his door was shut, not even bothering with the locks. The actual conversation was quick, just asking for an appointment. Then he changed into a shirt that wasn’t sweat soaked, spared a quick, longing glance at the ones with short sleeves, and opened his door again.

  “I’m going out for a bit,” he said. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just—I need to get out of here.” He let the I need some time away from you hang in the air, unspoken. It wasn’t completely right, but it was true enough. And didn’t force him to give out details just yet.

  “Are you sure you should be leaving the house right now?” Chase asked, brows creased.

  “I’m going to base,” Jason said. “Not to fight,” he added quickly. “Meeting someone there.”

  “Not too long,” Shade said, after a moment. “Promise?”

  “Sure.”

  THEY HADN’T wanted to push, not when Jason already seemed so uncomfortable. So they hadn’t asked for details.

  In hindsight, they should have asked for details.

  When Jason returned a few hours later, he was carrying a large packet and looked visibly upset.

  “Hey, guys?” he asked, when he found them in the kitchen. They were both tense, nervous from the waiting. Chase was making food to distract himself; Shade was just pacing. “Could we talk?”

  “Of course,” Chase said, exchanging a glance with Shade. “Did you want to move into the living room?” They’d been using the couch as a good go-to for proximity practice, while they talked or watched something, or played a card game. Jason shook his head.

  “No,” he said, pulling out a chair. “Here’s fine. Shade? Uh, if you don’t mind.”

  Shade startled but moved over to take a seat. Jason didn’t normally ask him to sit at the kitchen table; Shade didn’t really feel comfortable doing that much, and Jason had respected that. What was going on?

  After a few moments of uneasy silence, Jason sighed. “Look, I’ll just come out with it. I went to speak with Molly today. From the AI Delegate? I know we just had another eval a couple weeks ago, but I—I had some questions about the H-AI relationship.”

  “Okay,” Chase encouraged. “What did you want to tell us?”

  “You know there’s some… general discussion about what happens when a dependent human gets a Companion,” Jason said in a rush. “The ideal is close friendship, even family, but sometimes feelings develop. It can be natural for a damaged human to cling to something that becomes happy and familiar. Maybe get their feelings mixed up or… something.” He looked at Chase, then Shade. “And I just learned for an out-and-out fact that if that ever happens, it’s the Companion’s job to discourage that. It’s only right. Sometimes—sometimes Companions have to be reassigned, if the human is functional enough to take it.”

  “Jason….”

  “And you two have been… really great,” Jason hurried to continue. “Better than I deserve, probably. But you… you guys could get in a lot of trouble. If you breach protocol.”

  Shade let out a wounded sound, and Jason flinched back, rushing to add, “I don’t want you to go! God knows I don’t. You both have been the best thing to happen to me in a long time. I just—you don’t have to go as far as you’ve been going, and you shouldn’t have to, and I don’t want you to get in trouble—”

  Shade scrambled to sync up with Chase.

  “I know that clause,” Chase said. “I mean, Shade does. We both do. Translating for Shade now: ‘I know that clause. It allows that a relationship may develop between a human and AI Companion. The AI is responsible for being aware of the human’s mental state at all times and never taking advantage of that boundary. However, the Delegate is aware that often these feelings may be two-sided, as often happens when individuals spend much time together and progress and grow. The Delegate recognizes the validity of these feelings in the event that the AI acknowledges their own and is not taking advantage of their human’s current condition. Have we been taking advant
age? Please Jason, have we?’ End translation.”

  Shade looked stricken. Chase, torn. Jason… didn’t know what to think.

  “Jason.” And Chase’s voice was even, but his expression was blank, almost angry. “Jason, we both need to know. Have you ever been unwilling, within reason, to anything either of us have ever instigated?”

  “I—no. No.”

  “And at any point after we got to know each other did you think, really think, that either of us would force you to do something that you didn’t want to do? That we even could?”

  Jason looked at the table. “No.”

  “…do you want to ask for a reassignment?”

  “No!” Jason took a breath. “No, I don’t. I just—”

  “Don’t want us to get in trouble, yes, Jason. We heard you. Shade wonders what we’d be getting in trouble for.”

  Shade was also shaking.

  “I….”

  “Jason.” And Chase had calmed his tone. “I need—we need you to know something, and we need you to take it to heart. Okay?” At Jason’s nod, he continued, “There is nothing we have offered you or given you or asked of you that we did not mean. And nothing we would change or fix about how we interact with you, except on your terms. I’ve worked as a Companion for many years, as has Shade. We know the boundaries, and of course, of course we respect them. Our interactions with you reflect our own feelings for you. You in particular. But again, only ever on your terms. Do you understand?”

  Jason nodded, words gone.

  Chase let his shoulders sag. “All right,” he said. “Did that address your concerns?” Jason nodded again. “Then let’s leave it at that for now. I think… I think maybe Shade and I need to have a talk. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Jason?” Tentative, from Shade.

  Jason pushed to his feet. “I should—go do—” Something, anything, work the bag, use his mat, sort through his feelings. Feelings he’d refused to acknowledge because that could only end badly but were apparently, at least on some level, returned…. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry for—” He let out a shaky breath and hurried out of the room.