by Ariel Tachna
He wished he knew more about Ian and what he did with his free time besides work with wood. The hospital staff wouldn’t appreciate Thorne bringing Ian a carving knife and a block of wood, but Ian hadn’t mentioned any other pastime. Maybe he could ask Carley when she got there. He didn’t know how close they were, but she had a better chance of knowing what he liked than Thorne did.
He wished he had his Kindle, but it was with the rest of his nonessential gear at a buddy’s house in Wagga Wagga. He never brought anything he couldn’t stand to lose to a fire site. He’d lost too much to fire already.
Ian shifted in his sleep, turning his head toward Thorne’s chest. The oxygen mask dug into Thorne’s sternum, but he didn’t move away. If Ian needed to nuzzle closer to feel safe, Thorne would bear it and be grateful he could give Ian the comfort he needed. He wasn’t sure Ian realized yet how close he’d come to dying, but at some point he would, and when he did, he’d need all the support he could get to cope with it. Even battle-hardened as he had become in the Commandos, Thorne still had moments of terror when a situation forced him to stare his own mortality in the face. For Ian, who had no training and no expectation of finding himself in such a situation, it would be a hundred times worse.
He’d seen his team seek comfort in a bottle, in the arms of a loved one, in the willing body of a stranger, and he’d seen one of them seek it in drugs. The ones who had a loved one to turn to coped the best, but Thorne already knew Ian had no one special. He refused to hope he could be that someone special, but he’d be the willing stranger if it made a difference. And if that wasn’t what Ian needed, Thorne would figure out what he did and he’d move heaven and earth to get it for him, because Thorne hadn’t been there to watch Ian’s back and he’d nearly died because of it. The twenty men Williams had sent from Taylor Peak weren’t worth Ian’s life. He should have left well enough alone.
He could feel his hands starting to tremble as the rage that never fully left him built toward a boiling point. He couldn’t lose it here with Ian relying on him. He had to keep it under control for a little longer. When Carley got here, he could go take his frustration out on the fire front where it belonged.
He focused on slowing his breathing, on dropping into the battle-ready mindset that gave him complete control over his body and settled his mind. When he attained that plane, nothing could sneak up on him, nothing could ruffle him. He became a machine, capable of anything required of him, from complete stillness for hours on end to lethal motion designed to put an end to an enemy as quickly and cleanly as possible. He had no enemy to fight here, but he had an innocent to protect, and that required complete stillness. It took longer than he would have liked, but he settled into the zone finally, his body coming back under his command so he could sit motionless and hold Ian while he slept.
In his hyperaware state, he heard every footstep in the hallway outside Ian’s room, the beeping of monitors, and the sound of voices in soft discussion, but none of them posed a threat to his charge and so none of them disturbed his stillness. As time passed, he separated one set of footsteps from another—the short crisp steps of someone wearing heels, the slightly shuffling tread of someone in gym shoes, the heavy clomp of boots, another set of heels, but this one slower, as if the wearer had all the time in the world to get where she was going. He’d identified fifteen different people by their footsteps by the time a new set of footsteps paused outside Ian’s door.
Every muscle in his body tensed in preparation so he could protect Ian if necessary, but he held himself still until he could assess the threat. The door opened and a familiar face peeked around the jamb. “Can I come in?”
Thorne nodded, trying to diffuse the adrenaline that had swamped him at the fight-or-flight reaction. “He’s asleep,” he said, as if Carley couldn’t see that for herself.
“Good, I’m glad he can rest.” She carried a small duffel bag in and set it on the chair Thorne had occupied earlier. “There’s a change of clothes for him, and one for you, as well as the book he asked for. I’m going to find something to eat before I relieve you. I skipped lunch to get here. Do you need anything else while I’m out?”
“No,” Thorne said. “We’ll be fine.”
She looked like she wanted to offer again, so Thorne turned his attention back to Ian, dismissing her silently. He couldn’t deal with her right now, even knowing she was friend, not foe. Everything felt like a threat in his current state. He had to let it go, but he didn’t know how. When he was still in the Commandos, this kind of situation either ended with a fight or with his entire team needing the same release, which they got by beating the hell out of each other in the guise of hand-to-hand combat training. He heard the door close behind her and let out a shuddering breath. He had to find a punching bag or a treadmill or a set of weights so he could release some of the tension before Ian woke up and expected him to be normal.
Carefully, so he wouldn’t disturb Ian’s rest, he laid him back onto the pillows. His boots weren’t ideal for a run, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d worn them. He’d do laps around the hospital grounds until he could think straight again, and then he’d come back and keep Ian company.
Nine
IAN LOOKED up from his book when the door opened. Carley had come and gone with the promise of someone coming to visit again tomorrow. She’d also told him Thorne was still around, although she wasn’t sure where. Ian had nodded at that and tried to ignore the implication in her smile. He’d sought refuge in his all-time favorite fantasy novel instead, and as always, he’d got lost in the story of Sioned and Rohan and their struggle to protect their lands from the forces aligned against them. He’d only read about fifty pages, not that he needed to finish it when he could practically retell the story scene by scene, but when he saw it was Thorne, he put the book aside and smiled behind the oxygen mask.
“Have a good nap?” Thorne asked.
Ian nodded and gestured to the chair where the bag Carley brought still sat.
“Yes, she told me she’d brought me clean clothes,” Thorne said. “I thought I’d wait to put them on until after I showered. I worked up a bit of a sweat.”
Ian raised an eyebrow in question. It seemed an odd time to go for a run, or whatever Thorne did for exercise, but he was clearly sweaty and slightly out of breath, so he’d obviously done some kind of exercise while Ian slept.
“I went for a bit of a jog,” Thorne said. “Post-mission stress. I have to burn it off somehow, and running is a safe way for everyone involved.”
Ian pointed to the door into the en-suite bathroom.
“Thanks. I will rinse off, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Ian shook his head and shooed Thorne toward the bathroom. Thorne grinned and grabbed the bag, so Ian settled back into his book. He was so caught up in the story he didn’t hear Thorne come back out until he spoke. “Dragon Prince. I haven’t read that one. Is it good?”
Ian nodded enthusiastically and handed the book to Thorne. He really wished he could talk at the moment. All the wonderful things he could tell Thorne about the book and the series, all the questions he wanted to ask about what books Thorne had read, since his choice of words implied he was a fantasy reader, piled up behind the oxygen mask. He looked around in frustration for something to write on, but he didn’t see paper or a pen.
“This looks pretty interesting,” Thorne said. “Maybe I’ll borrow it when you’re done.”
Ian gestured for Thorne to take it now.
“Then what will you read?” Thorne asked. Ian glared at him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask questions you can’t answer with a shake of your head. Maybe the nurse has some paper so you can write what you want to say. Want me to ask?”
Ian nodded emphatically and watched as Thorne set the book carefully on the chair before leaving the room. Ian appreciated the thoughtfulness. Some people weren’t as careful with their books as Ian was. He’d watched other jackaroos on the station toss a book on a table or a chair like i
t was nothing special, and maybe that particular book wasn’t special to that particular jackaroo, but as far as Ian was concerned, all books were special and deserved to be treated that way. Thorne seemed to agree, or at least he was careful enough to treat other people’s books with respect.
Thorne returned a moment later with a pad of paper and a pen. “Here we go. Now we can talk to each other.”
Ian took the items from Thorne and started writing.
Do you like fantasy? he wrote.
“I love fantasy,” Thorne said. “My Kindle is full of it. I just never picked this one up. I’ve seen it a couple of times, but I’d never talked to anyone who read it to get an opinion. So you say it’s good.”
It’s my favorite. I’ve probably read it a hundred times.
“Wow, that good? Maybe I will borrow it when you’re done,” Thorne said.
Take it now. I’ll ask someone to bring me another one tomorrow.
“I shouldn’t take it with me,” Thorne said. “I’m going back to the fire front. If something happened to it, I’d never forgive myself. I’ll read it in the evenings when I come check on you.”
Ian smiled, charmed despite himself. He’d expected Thorne to make sure he was okay and then make do with updates from whoever from the station came to visit. He hadn’t expected him to come back every day.
How long do I have to stay in the hospital? he wrote.
“I don’t know,” Thorne replied. “The only information anyone has given me was that you were on oxygen, had been given something for your cough, and were doing better.”
Ian knew that much himself. Ask someone when they come back in?
“Yes, I’ll ask for you,” Thorne promised. “Have you read Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn? That’s one of my favorite series.”
Ian nodded. I liked it, but not as much as Dragon Prince.
“Then I really will have to read this one.”
You’re welcome to read anything on my bookshelves at home, Ian offered. Just put them back where you found them when you’re done. Everything’s organized.
“Author, series, and then the order within the series?” Thorne asked with a grin.
And publication date for the series, Ian wrote back. He could feel himself flushing at how picky he was, but Thorne just nodded.
“Makes sense to me. If I borrow a book, I’ll be sure to get it back in the right spot. I’d offer to leave you my Kindle so you’d have more choice, but I left it at a friend’s house in Wagga Wagga. I didn’t want to bring it with me to fight the fires. It’s one thing to have it on a base somewhere, even somewhere remote, because bases come under fire far less than individual patrols do, but out fighting a fire, there’s no base, really. I mean, we have a base camp, but it’s not protected except by distance, and if the fire moves in an unexpected way, the camp could be overrun. I don’t have a lot I wouldn’t want to lose, but my Kindle is one of those things.”
Ian nodded. His thoughts tumbled over themselves at the implications behind Thorne’s words, but with only a pad of paper at his disposal for communication, sorting them out seemed a monumental task. The thing that struck him most, though, was that Thorne left the Kindle with a friend, not at his own home. Did he even have a place to call home? It didn’t sound like it, and that made Ian incredibly sad.
Where do you live when you aren’t fighting fires? he wrote.
“Until a couple of months ago, I lived on whatever army base I was assigned to,” Thorne said. “It was cheaper and more convenient than off-base housing, and it’s not like I have a family to worry about. Since I left the army, I’ve been fighting fires, so I’ve been living out of a tent wherever the fires are.”
And when the fires are out?
“I guess I’ll have to find somewhere to live,” Thorne said. “I don’t have any strong attachment to anywhere, so I suppose it’ll be a matter of where I can find a job.”
What about your family?
“I don’t have any family left,” Thorne said. “They died in an accident a long time ago.”
I’m sorry, Ian wrote, feeling like a dick for bringing up what were obviously still painful memories, no matter how old they were.
“You didn’t know,” Thorne said. “It’s a logical assumption. Maybe I’ll get lucky and build a family the way you have.”
Ian wanted desperately to suggest Thorne stay on the station, but it wasn’t his place to do so without talking to Caine and Macklin first, and even that was presumptuous. He didn’t know if Thorne had any interest in working on a sheep station. Ian loved it, but he’d talked to plenty of people who gave it a try for a summer and decided it wasn’t for them.
Before he could figure out what to say, the door to his room opened again, and Neil, Caine, and Macklin came in. Ian waved in greeting since he couldn’t say hello and listened as they peppered Thorne with questions regarding his status. Thorne answered the ones he could and promised to get someone to answer the ones he couldn’t. The doctor came in a few minutes later, and it wasn’t until the doctor had left and Caine had sent Neil off to fetch dinner that Ian realized Thorne hadn’t come back in after he went to find the doctor.
Where’s Thorne? he wrote on his pad. He passed it to Caine.
“I don’t know,” Caine said. “Do you want me to go look for him?”
Ian shook his head. Thorne was an adult. He could take care of himself, and Ian needed to grow up and stop feeling neglected because Thorne had left without saying good-bye.
“Maybe he went to get something to eat. I’m pretty sure he hadn’t eaten since breakfast,” Caine said. “I bet he’ll be back before long.”
Ian wasn’t as sure, but he didn’t argue. Instead he wrote, Are the fires contained?
“Mostly, for the moment, anyway,” Caine said. “They’re not out, but they’re contained again, so as long as they don’t jump the firebreaks, they should burn out in a few days. Of course they’re forecasting storms again tonight, so we’ll have to contend with the possibility of new fires from lightning strikes, especially if we get the lighting but no rain, like we’ve gotten the last few times we’ve had storms roll through.”
Ian nodded. Storms in this season always brought the risk of fires, especially when they’d had such a dry winter and spring. Nobody expected a wet summer, but the lack of rain over the winter had definitely added to the problems they were facing now.
“Did you get everything you needed from home?” Macklin asked. “We’re heading back to the station tonight. We can have someone bring you anything else you need.
Ian nodded. More books?
Macklin laughed. “Tell me which ones.”
It really didn’t matter as far as Ian was concerned. He’d read everything on his shelves. Thorne was interested in Dragon Prince, though, so he’d have Macklin send the rest of that series. Ian certainly didn’t mind rereading them, and that way Thorne could continue with the series in the evenings if he was interested. And if he wasn’t, well, Ian could forgive him his slip in taste since he obviously enjoyed fantasy in general. He wrote the titles down and gave them to Macklin.
VISITING HOURS were almost over by the time Thorne made it back to the hospital. Things had got a little intense when Ian brought up his future, and he’d needed an escape, but he felt bad for leaving Ian with no explanation. He didn’t know what he could have said, but he still felt like he should have said something. He’d driven around a bit until he’d found a small bookstore, and that had given him an idea. Of course, going into a bookstore was always more time-consuming than he anticipated, but he’d walked out with Tad Williams’s latest in the hopes it hadn’t been out long enough for Ian to have picked it up yet. If Ian already had it, Thorne would keep it for himself. He rarely bought books in paperback since he’d bought his Kindle, but he could keep one book. It wouldn’t take up that much more space in the corner of Walker’s apartment.
“Hi,” he said when he walked into Ian’s room to find him alone again. “I got you something.”<
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Ian looked up from his book and lifted that elegant eyebrow at him again. Thorne had the insane desire to plant a kiss right there, but he wasn’t sure how Ian would feel about it. He settled for handing Ian the bag with the book in it.
“I’m hoping it’s new enough that you haven’t read it yet,” Thorne said as Ian pulled the book out of the bag and looked at it. He shook his head after a minute, and Thorne finally relaxed. He wasn’t sure his apology had worked, but at least he’d bought a book Ian hadn’t read.
“Did Caine and Macklin head back to Lang Downs?” Thorne asked.
Ian nodded.
“Did the doctor answer some of your questions?”
Ian nodded again and reached for the pad of paper by his bed. He scribbled for a moment and handed the pad to Thorne. 5 to 7 days depending on how I do, he read, but they’ll start taking the mask off for short periods of time tomorrow.
“Good,” Thorne said. “This is better than nothing, but talking to you will be much easier.”
Faster too, Ian wrote down.
“Yes, faster too,” Thorne agreed. “I should probably head back soon. I don’t want to try to drive those dirt tracks in the dark. If I knew the area a little better, it wouldn’t be so bad, but I don’t want to get lost or stuck somewhere. I’ll come see you tomorrow evening, though, okay?”
Ian nodded. Stay safe.
Thorne smiled when he read the short note. Taking a chance, he leaned forward and kissed Ian’s cheek. “I will,” he promised. “I have a reason to now.”
He watched Ian’s eyes go wide for a second and hoped he hadn’t overstepped his bounds, but then Ian smiled and reached for his hand. Thorne returned the tight squeeze and the smile. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to curl up on the bed next to Ian and keep watch over him for the night. Not that anything bad was going to happen in the hospital, and even if Ian did take a turn for the worse, he was in the right place to get help, but the idea of leaving Ian alone sat wrong with Thorne. He doubted the hospital would let him stay. His status with the RFS had earned him some leniency today, but in his experience, hospitals were pretty strict about visiting hours unless the patient was in critical condition, which Ian wasn’t. He’d spend a miserable night on a cramped bed that wasn’t made for two people, and he’d pay for it with a sore back all day, and yet he couldn’t make himself stand up and leave.