“We’ll handle it,” Jamie said. “We always do.”
He was staring at Kyle as he spoke, not his parents, and Kyle could only nod at the determined look in Jamie’s eyes.
They might not have Stanislav’s precognitive power, but they knew the threat, in some form, was coming. They’d face it head-on as a team, as they always did.
17
Every Fragile Thing Can’t Be Fixed
On Monday, four days after waking up in Medical to his family crowding his biobed and still unable to talk, Sean had yet to leave the base. Partly because he had no home to go back to, mostly because his treatment wasn’t finished.
Physically, Sean was fine. The regen regime had fixed his fractured jaw and broken ribs, regrown his missing teeth, and healed the bruising and tissue damage he’d endured under Cillian’s hands. He still had a lingering headache from the concussion he’d received from being repeatedly punched in the face on top of breaking through the Faraday cage with his power. The backlash from doing that hadn’t cleared yet, according to his brain scans, but it was getting there.
His mental state was another story entirely.
Sean knuckled one eye as he stared down at his tablet and the blank document he’d had open for the past few hours. His unwritten after-action report wasn’t close to being started, and while Sean knew the director and everyone else needed to know what had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to write it all down.
He couldn’t think about it, if he were honest. Not yet. The trauma was still too fresh, too raw in his mind…which was probably the reason the mental block against speaking still existed.
Sean made a face and shifted on his borrowed bed. The suite was small, with a joined bathroom, but it still had enough room for more than two people.
“Did you want me to get you some lunch before I leave?” Naomi asked.
Sean looked over at where his mother sat on the nearby chair, her own tablet in hand. The small suitcase she’d packed back in New Seattle the night Delta Team had extracted his parents from their home for security purposes sat close by. Of his family, only his mother remained in D.C.
When Sean had woken up to his parents, brothers, and Annabelle of all people on Friday morning, he was glad to see his family was safe. The uncomfortableness of his family seeing him in such a wounded state had made their presence awkward after the first twenty-four hours. With the immediate threat to their safety eliminated, his brothers and father had returned to their respective homes on Saturday.
Considering his mother had been the one to operate on him against all ethical rules, Sean wasn’t surprised she’d waited this long to leave his side. As much as Sean wanted his mother’s support, he’d been living this life so long without it, that he didn’t know how to ask for help from her or the rest of his family. Maybe the shrink the director had ordered him to see would be of more help in that area. Sean didn’t know. He just wanted to not think.
Realizing that it had been almost a minute without any form of response, Sean shook his head and swiped his fingers over his tablet. A small, holographic display opened in the air above it, and he ignored the clamoring uncertainty in his mind for the easy answer, the words showing up brightly in the air.
Not hungry, his message said.
Naomi frowned at him. “You need to eat something.”
Sean shrugged. At the moment, he could take or leave food even though he knew his body needed it to heal. His appetite hadn’t quite returned, and he was okay with that even if his doctors weren’t.
“Will you at least think about joining us for Thanksgiving?” Naomi asked.
The thought of going home for a big family holiday, coddled by his parents and tiptoed around by his brothers, was the last thing Sean wanted to deal with. Holidays hadn’t been an easy time over the past however many years after his brothers hit it big with Atomic Grace and Sean distanced himself from everyone. His family hadn’t known what he was for the longest time—CIA officer, then MDF agent—and the lies had strained every interaction he’d had with them.
Since June, things had gotten better, even if everyone was still grappling with the truth. Sean had been looking forward to experiencing a holiday with his family where he wouldn’t have to lie and try to keep the peace by leaving early. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t in any condition to be around them right now. Sean couldn’t bear the thought of spending Thanksgiving with his family and the stifling concern they would be sure to lay on him.
If he couldn’t talk about any of this right now, Sean knew he would be incapable of talking about it later with them. He didn’t want to ruin the holidays with his insecurities and issues.
So he typed out another response. Maybe Christmas.
It was the most he could offer right now, because Sean honestly didn’t know how long it would be until he was mentally okay again. Nazari had been by yesterday to inform Sean that he was off active duty until the people in Psych cleared him. He’d never been a fan of therapists, even though no active agent could escape those mental health sessions.
“Hopefully Christmas. If not Christmas, then maybe your birthday,” Naomi said as she got to her feet. “My escort should be here in a couple of minutes. I’m going to meet them in the lounge down the hall.”
She approached the bed and Sean tried to not flinch at her close proximity. Naomi paused, and Sean knew the anger in her eyes wasn’t directed at him, but at the people who had harmed her son. She carefully reached out her hand, keeping it in sight, and gave him a little pat. Sean exhaled shakily when she pulled back.
He wanted to hug his mom goodbye, but he knew he wouldn’t like feeling as if he were trapped. It had happened once before already, and he hadn’t meant to lash out at Caleb, but at least his brother had forgiven him. Touch right now was a slow process. Sean had never wanted to worry his parents or family when it came to his job, which was part of the reason he’d never told them when he joined the CIA, and later, the MDF. It was far too late now to shove that truth back into the box.
“Get some rest. Call me when you’re able to, all right?”
Naomi smiled worriedly down at him, but didn’t press the issue. Sean nodded slowly and watched her gather her things and head for the door. She waved at him on her way out.
“I mean it, Sean. Call me.”
He gave her a thumbs-up, then the door slid shut behind her. Sean stared up at the ceiling, trying not to feel guilty about being relieved his mother was on her way home.
Someone knocked hard on the door a minute or two later, startling him enough he nearly dropped his tablet on the ground. Fumbling for it, Sean set it aside and went to manually open the door since he couldn’t tell Ceres to open it. He stabbed a finger at the control panel and then froze when he saw who was in the hallway.
“Can I come in?” Kyle asked.
He was in casual clothes instead of a uniform, no weapons at hand. But just the sight of him made Sean want to hide.
He knew the Pavluhkin mission had come to an end; he’d read the official memo on that yesterday morning. It meant Sean was no longer seconded to Alpha Team, though that hadn’t stopped most of the team from taking turns sitting at his bedside in Medical along with his family. Kyle had never been there, most likely glued to Alexei’s side, though Sean hadn’t been brave enough to question his absence.
Seeing Kyle here made it impossible for Sean to not think about Alexei. The team had kept him updated on Alexei’s progress, but Sean had never reached out himself. He couldn’t. After everything he’d done—assisting Cillian, however distantly, in Alexei’s torture—Sean didn’t know if he could ever look Alexei in the eye again. He didn’t know if Alexei even wanted to see him, and he’d been too afraid to find out, because the thought of losing Alexei forever wasn’t something Sean was prepared for.
Which was why having Kyle here almost pushed him into a panic attack.
“Whoa, okay, calm down,” Kyle said worriedly as he stepped into the room, a concerne
d look on his face. “Can I touch you?”
Kyle’s hands hovered over Sean’s shoulders, and he thought about stepping away, but there was nowhere for him to run.
“Right, I’m just gonna…stand over here.” Kyle stepped to the side and gave Sean a clear route to the only exit out of the room. It was enough to help get himself under control again. “Just so you know, I’m not mad at you. I didn’t come to yell or anything, just to talk. Uh, you’re still not talking, right?”
Sean took a deep breath and tried to calm down before retrieving his tablet from the bed to type up a response. No.
Kyle shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Okay. So, we brought Lyosha home yesterday and got him settled in. I dropped off our family at the airport on my way back to base today, so he’s probably moping at home right now. He’s been asking nonstop about you.”
Sean tightened his fingers on the tablet, trying to figure out what to type, but nothing came to mind. Kyle’s gaze was direct, an intense focus that Sean couldn’t face for very long before he had to look away.
“He’s not angry, for what it’s worth,” Kyle said quietly. “He told me some of what happened—”
Sean flinched.
“—and I can kind of see why you think he wouldn’t want to see you, but that’s bullshit. It wasn’t your fault what happened. You didn’t have a choice.”
Kyle made it sound so easy, but he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t watched Cillian hurt Alexei based on the cues Sean had given. He hadn’t watched the man he lov—
Sean cut that thought off, refusing to go there.
“I killed him, you know. Got an official dressing down and everything, but I kind of consider that a badge of honor at this point.”
Sean knew all about how Cillian had died. Gracie and the psychologist assigned to him had deemed it important information he needed to know. He hadn’t known Kyle had been punished for it.
At Sean’s questioning look, Kyle only smiled toothily. “Fucking worth it.”
Sean opened his mouth, but the words of thanks weren’t coming, and that frustrated him to no end. He turned and tossed the tablet angrily on the bed, running a hand through his hair.
“I know enough about trauma like this to know it takes time to process. I know you and Lyosha are both off active duty until the shrinks clear you. I’m not a shrink, but I kind of think seeing Lyosha might help you both out. You can punch me later if I’m wrong,” Kyle said carefully.
If it was anyone else coming to Sean’s door, asking him to go see Alexei, he’d have dug in his heels and stayed where he was. But it was Kyle, Alexei’s brother, someone who would have a deeper insight into Alexei’s state of mind than anyone else.
Sean could only nod, slowly, and give in.
Kyle’s look of relief was almost painful to see. “Thank you.”
Sean wasn’t confined to base, but he technically should have let someone know he was leaving with Kyle. He had therapy scheduled for tomorrow, but he figured he’d back in time to make the appointment.
Sooner, really, if Alexei didn’t want to see him after all.
Sean tried not to think about that, but it was all he could focus on during the drive to the apartment Alexei shared with Kyle. He was a little surprised when Kyle didn’t pull into the garage entrance but parked out front in the passenger loading zone, engine idling.
Kyle gave him a shrug. “I have a couple of errands to run.”
Sean had a pretty good idea that was code for spending time with Jamie, but he wasn’t going to argue. Sighing, he opened the car door and got out, trying to hide the fact his hands were shaking. Standing on the pavement, he thought about getting back in the car, about telling Kyle he couldn’t do this.
In the end, Sean took a step forward, because if he was willing to fight and die for his country, he’d damn well better be willing to fight against his own fears for Alexei.
The knock on his front door had Alexei automatically reaching for his gun. He kept the television on as he stood up from the couch and silently approached the door on bare feet. He thumbed the safety off halfway there, resting his finger against the trigger guard. Kyle had said he was running an errand almost two hours ago, which Alexei knew to mean he was probably at Jamie’s condo. Besides, Kyle had access to the apartment. After everything that had happened in the last week, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Alexei accessed the control panel and brought up the security feed of the hallway outside their door. The second he saw who it was, Alexei closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall, taking a deep breath that hurt. Then he stabbed a finger at the control panel and unlocked the door. It slid open, and he came face-to-face with Sean for the first time in days.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Alexei drank in the sight of him, glad to see all the wounds he’d sustained at Cillian’s hands were completely healed. His own hands twitched with the need to reach for Sean, viscerally reminded of the way he’d been tied down in that chair, watching as Cillian used him as a punching bag when he wasn’t breaking teeth.
“Senya,” Alexei managed to get out in a low, strained voice. “Not know you come by.”
Sean’s gaze slipped away from Alexei’s face to the gun in Alexei’s hand. He didn’t say anything, but his hands clenched into fists, shaking a little. Alexei remembered what Gracie and Kyle had told him every day he was in Medical and after he was discharged.
“Still not talk?” Alexei asked the question gently, but it still made Sean’s shoulders tighten. Shaking his head, he stepped to the side and gestured furiously for Sean to come in. “Is fine. Come sit. Eat? Mama made lots of food before leaving. Should last until Thanksgiving since Kilyusha at Jamie’s.”
Alexei knew he was babbling but couldn’t stop. For a fraught moment, he thought Sean wasn’t going to enter the apartment, that he was going to leave, and he honestly didn’t know what he would’ve done at that point. Maybe hauled Sean over his shoulder and carried him back inside. That never came to pass though, as Sean finally stepped inside, and Alexei breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
The door slid shut and Alexei primed it with all the new locks Katie had programmed into it. He followed Sean into the living room and set the gun on the coffee table.
“Computer, television off,” Alexei said.
Quiet descended in the apartment, afternoon sunlight streaming through the plas-glass windows that could no longer be seen into from the outside. Katie had come by while he was in Medical, along with several MDF technical agents, and done a complete overhaul on the apartment’s security.
Alexei pointed at the couch. “Can sit?”
When Sean didn’t move, Alexei took a step toward him. Sean’s gaze met his before jerking away. Alexei might not have a doctorate in psychology or be able to read someone’s mind, but he knew enough about the many shades of trauma stemming from war to know what Sean’s reactions meant.
“Is okay to look, Senya,” Alexei quietly said.
Sean jerked as if he’d been hit, eyes squeezing shut for a moment at Alexei’s words. Alexei took a step forward, hands coming up to—grab him, hold him, he didn’t know what, just that he wanted to touch.
And Sean wouldn’t let him.
Sean shook his head, knocking aside Alexei’s hand as he stepped backward, putting distance between them, distance that Alexei absolutely hated. But he stayed where he was, even though it pained him to do so.
Alexei swallowed thickly, throat tight from emotion he couldn’t completely shake off. “Is not your fault, Senya. Everything that happen…not your fault, da?”
“I told Cillian to hurt you.”
The words came out cracked and harsh, Sean’s voice rough from days of disuse. Alexei wasn’t sure who was more surprised at his words, himself or Sean. Even through his surprise, all Alexei could think was how relieved he felt to finally hear Sean’s voice again. He watched as Sean slapped a hand over his mouth, all the blood washing out of his face.
�
��Senya,” Alexei said, voice breaking a little from a shared grief on the diminutive name.
Sean frantically shook his head, hand skimming off his mouth as he drew in a couple of deep breaths. He was shaking hard enough that his lips trembled and Alexei didn’t know how fix this.
To fix them.
“It’s my fault, Lyo—Alexei,” Sean rasped after a heavy beat of silence, eyes gone wide in a too-pale face.
The sound of his given name coming out of Sean’s mouth like that made Alexei more than a little nauseous. “Nyet. You still say Lyosha. Want you to, Senya.”
Sean still wouldn’t look at him. “You shouldn’t want me to.”
Alexei closed the distance between them, only stopping when Sean threw out a hand at him in warning. Alexei stilled, trying desperately to catch Sean’s gaze, but it was so hard when Sean would look everywhere but at him.
“What you see when you look at me, Senya?” Alexei asked softly. “Hmm? What you see, kotyonok?”
Sean’s face screwed up in a mask of agony, brown eyes suspiciously bright for a second or two before he shook his head. “You know what I see.”
For an instant, Alexei had a flash of Cillian’s face, his unstoppable fist, blood spraying through the air from one hit too many. He blinked, and the waking dreamlike image disappeared, but Cillian’s ghost still lingered, maybe always would. Some things in this war couldn’t be easily left behind or buried.
“Not you who hurt me,” he said.
“It feels like it was,” Sean confessed in an unsteady voice.
Alexei ran a hand over his face, biting at the inside of his cheek. “Think it easy for me see you get hurt? Was glad it me and not you he work over most.”
Finally, finally Sean looked at him and Alexei wished he could kiss away the self-loathing on Sean’s face. “I kept wishing it was me, and not you, Alexei.”
In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Page 30