He could use the distraction...any excuse to think about something other than the sex he’d just had, the confusing mess it had been for him and possibly for her, too. He grimaced at the thought, rubbing his forehead with the hand holding the hiri. He didn’t know if he could take thinking about her end of things, in addition to his own. He didn’t really want to focus too much on the extent to which he might be confusing her, given her current mental state...especially since he didn’t seem to be able to be intimate with her physically without having some kind of emotional breakdown in the process.
Taking another drag of the hiri, he exhaled even as he tried to push it out.
The pain was getting worse, too. Not better, worse.
Revik knew that might continue to happen. Hell, he still didn’t know if he could survive like this, ultimately, with only half of his wife here with him. It might just kill him slower. Or it might leave him in a constant state of deprivation that might be worse.
He had to think about the child.
He knew, even before Tarsi said it aloud, that the child was the only thing that mattered at this point. Cass didn’t matter, not at base. Terian and Shadow mattered only to the extent that Cass did, meaning that they needed to be eliminated if the rest of the survivors of this plague were to have even half a chance.
For Revik himself, negative motivations had never been enough for long. His anger remained, but the hottest part of that had been sucked out of him when Allie opened her eyes. He couldn’t explain to himself why, exactly, or what it meant, but Allie being awake managed to put their child...her child...back to the forefront of his mind.
Maybe that had been Allie’s doing, too.
Sighing, he fought to clear his head.
He was exhausted. It wasn’t the telekinesis. He’d felt pretty high from that...hopeful, even. He’d felt like maybe they would actually pull this off.
He knew now that the real source of his optimism had been Allie, though. He’d felt her so much, all through that fight at the airstrip. Some part of him had started to believe she was coming back. When she’d pushed him to bring her up here, that hope had remained. But after an hour or more of being in bed with her, he felt depressed all over again.
She’d been aggressive with him.
Aggressive, but so fucking distant.
She wanted him, but she didn’t seem to notice him at all in that want.
He’d wanted to hit her at one point, the same impulse that had shamed him so much in that house on Alamo Square. He didn’t hit her, of course, not this time, any more than he had that first time in San Francisco, but the wanting to do it, the feeling of that violence, made him feel even worse about what he’d let happen between them.
Some part of him even understood where the impulse to violence came from...not from a genuine desire to hurt her, but to bring her back, to force her to see him...to pay attention. It might even be an instinctive pull of some kind, related to their light connection, like when one of his loved ones got put in danger behind the Barrier. Causing them physical pain could sometimes be the only way to jerk them out.
Like Allie had hit him in the past, to get him back in his body, away from the Rooks...away from Menlim or whoever or whatever else had taken his light from hers.
The pain in his chest worsened. He raised his hand to it mindlessly, rubbing the spot, even as he fought to breathe past it.
Fuck. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.
She’d been attentive to him...physically, that is...which almost made it worse.
He felt like she’d been servicing him almost...or maybe that he’d been servicing her. She’d undressed him and pushed him to a chair, and...gods, he didn’t even want to think about what she’d done. She’d used things she must have learned from the Lao Hu on his light and body, and he’d been crying by the end, jealous and angry and crying. The sheer irrationality of it, how out of control his mind and heart and light got with hers frightened him.
Now she slept in their bed...the bed they’d shared after their wedding. Only instead of him, she slept with the wire around her neck, likely not even noticing his absence.
Pain throbbed his temples, making him feel sick.
He should eat. Once Wreg and Jon left, he should go looking for food. He’d been forgetting to eat lately, and he knew it would cause problems if he let himself lose too much weight. Maybe he’d hit Jorag up for some time sparring, too.
Wreg would be otherwise occupied.
Even as he thought it, a low tone came from the door to the outside corridor.
Revik rose to his feet, deciding to ignore his relative state of undress.
Hell, he was wearing pants. If they wanted to come over at this time of night, they would have to suck up seeing his bare chest.
The more he thought about it, the more he thought getting drunk might not be a bad move for him tonight.
He unlocked and opened the door, taking another drag of the hiri and nodding to the two men as they walked in, without really looking at either of them. He didn’t wait for them, either, but retreated back to the couch, already wincing and shielding from the pain coming off both of them in a coiling, out of control mess.
Jesus Christ. As if he didn’t have enough of his own shit to deal with right now.
Neither of them spoke, either, but followed him wordlessly to the couch. Then they just stood there, looking down at Revik where he sat. Revik flicked his fingers in the direction of the packet of hiri, as well as the bottles of wine on the counter behind them.
“If you want something, take it,” he said, having to muster an effort to be even that polite. “Otherwise, talk.”
Jon hesitated, glancing at Wreg. Wreg continued to frown at Revik, his dark eyes wary.
“You all right, laoban?” he said, his voice reflecting that same wariness.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Wreg said. “What does that mean?”
“Where’s Allie?” Jon said then, looking around, as if noticing her absence for the first time.
Revik felt his jaw clench more at each question. “She’s in the other room,” he said, wishing now he’d gotten the wine while he’d been on his feet.
“Asleep?” Jon said, his voice more subdued.
“Wired,” Revik said, speaking bluntly before he’d thought about how it sounded. Jesus, he sounded drunk and he wasn’t. He could feel from Wreg’s light that the ex-rebel assumed he’d been drinking, too. “Did you two come up here to chat?” Revik said. “Because you picked a pretty shitty night, if so. I was about to get drunk. So unless you want to join me...or at least open the fucking bottle...say what you have to say and get out.”
Wreg and Jon exchanged a look.
Then Wreg walked over to the bar where Revik had indicated earlier.
Looking at the labels of a few of the unopened bottles standing there, he picked one and then opened drawers, rummaging around for an opener. Revik just sat there, watching, his jaw hard as Wreg screwed the corkscrew into the top after cutting off the metal wrap. A few seconds later, there was an audible but soft ‘pop’ as he removed the cork. He reached for the cabinets above the counter then and pulled down a few long-stemmed glasses.
“Don’t bother,” Revik said, clicking his fingers at him. “Just bring the bottle...”
Wreg glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head, giving him a faint smile. His dark eyes remained wary, though. “What are we?” he said, his voice holding a wry humor. “Barbarians? I think a few glasses being dirtied is worth the effort, brother. Especially in these trying days, where we are clinging to civilization with our fingertips as it is...”
Revik gave a low snort, in spite of himself.
His jaw unclenched slightly as he watched the seer pour. Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled, fighting to calm down. Stubbing out the last of the hiri, he reached for the packet, shaking out another one.
“Smoke?” he asked Wreg, holding one up as Wreg handed him the fulles
t of the three wine glasses he’d poured. Wreg gestured a polite assent, trading him for the glass. Jon took the third glass when Wreg handed it to him, but Revik could still feel the younger man’s stare.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Jon blurted.
Revik froze. He turned his head, giving the other man a hard stare. “Is your brain attached to your mouth, brother Jon?” he said.
Jon noticeably reddened. “Probably not,” he muttered. “But no one else was asking. I figured I might as well...”
“What the fuck do you think?” Revik said, his voice just as cold.
“I think you are,” Jon said. Swallowing more of the wine nervously, he made a vague gesture with his free hand as he lowered the glass from his lips. “...I’m wondering why,” he finished, wiping his mouth. “I mean, obviously, you’re not okay with it.”
“Jon.” Wreg looked at the other man, giving a small shake of his head, his eyes warning.
Revik felt his jaw clench harder than before. Painfully hard.
He didn’t look up as he took a long drink from his own glass.
When neither of the other two men said anything else, Revik shook his head, clicking softly to himself. He spoke almost before he knew he meant to, feeling Jon flinch at the bitterness behind his words.
“You want me to refuse my wife sex, when she asks it of me?” Revik said, leaning back in the leather couch. He folded one arm across his chest, propping the elbow of the other on it, the same one holding his glass. Lifting the latter in a mock toast, he met his brother-in-law’s gaze with a level stare, even as he felt his eyes sting. “...Fuck you, brother Jon. And if this is your way of leading up to asking me for a favor, I gotta tell you, your delivery sucks.”
“Nenz,” Wreg broke in, holding up an appeasing hand. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. We’ve all been worried. Let it go...”
Revik gave the Chinese-looking seer an equally hard stare.
He knew he wasn’t being rational. He could feel the confusion in Jon’s light, too, well enough to know that Jon wasn’t in the best place to filter his own words, either. It was amazing how Revik could know all of that and still not care.
Even so, he forced his eyes back to the fireplace, which had dwindled down to a bare flame. Taking another swallow of the wine, he motioned for the other two men to speak.
“You want to ask me something,” Revik said. “So ask it.”
Another silence fell over the room.
When Revik glanced up, Wreg was looking at him again. Revik couldn’t help noticing that the larger seer had inserted himself slightly between himself and Jon, or miss the protectiveness behind the stance. Feeling the wariness of the other man sharpen, Revik fought to control his light, at least long enough to get both of them out of there. Why the hell was he prolonging this? Did he really just want to vent at someone, and saw the two men coming up here as a way of volunteering for that role?
Realizing there was probably some truth to that, Revik forced another exhale.
“The two of you want to go into hibernation,” Revik said, blunt. He took another mouthful of wine, gesturing vaguely as he swallowed. “...You want to finish the bond.”
The two men exchanged a glance.
Then Wreg spoke.
“Yes, laoban. We talked about this before. You said you could work around it.” Wreg continued to study Revik’s face, his voice openly cautious. “...Is that still true?”
Revik nodded, once. “It is.” He gave them both a hard look, that time more from the military side of his brain. “I will pull Jon if I need him, brother Wreg. I’ll pull him even if I have to trank you to do it. That’s non-negotiable.”
Wreg nodded, his eyes showing him to be turning over the words. “Agreed.”
Revik turned his head so he could make eye contact with Jon, from where he stood slightly shadowed by Wreg’s bulk. “If I do that, Jon...it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt like a motherfuck. Remember how I was, when Terian took Allie before we’d completed the bond?”
Jon stepped to the side, facing Revik directly.
He nodded, unfolding his arms. “I remember,” he said.
“You’re okay with risking that?” Revik pressed. “Because if you leave here and you and Wreg do this thing, know that you’re giving me permission to do that to you...”
Jon nodded again, his eyes showing a faint flicker of nerves. More than the nerves, pain seemed to dominate the majority of his light, sharp enough that Revik winced away from it a second time, in spite of himself.
“I understand,” Jon said. “You have my permission.”
Revik grunted, humorless. “Sure. You say that now.”
“I get it, Revik,” Jon said, exhaling. “I just don’t see any good options.”
Nodding, Revik conceded his words with a flip of his hand. He finished off the last of the wine in his glass then set it on the table, motioning to Wreg that he wanted more. He knew he should just get it himself. He didn’t know why he was being such a prick. Feeling another pulse of pain off Jon’s light, Revik winced again, tightening his arm around his chest.
Maybe he did know why.
Wreg swept Revik’s glass off the wooden coffee table without protest, bringing it back to the counter and filling it almost to the brim with the last of the wine in the bottle. When he brought it back to Revik that time, Revik raised the glass to them in a mock toast, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice that time and not succeeding.
“Congratulations, then...to the happy couple.”
Before either of them could raise their glasses in return or speak, Revik had already taken another three or four healthy swallows of the wine. When he stood up that time, he nearly staggered. Jesus, now he was drunk. He’d forgotten to get that food.
Maybe the fact that the two men had shown up on his door bleeding pain and practically knocking him over with their bond-compulsion hadn’t exactly helped.
“Laoban.” Wreg caught his arm, and Revik flinched. He nearly jerked his arm away in reflex, but caught himself in time, knowing that might have been followed by a punch, if he didn’t control himself. “Laoban,” Wreg repeated, his voice lower. “You shouldn’t be alone. I’m going to call Adhipan. He and Yumi...they should be here.”
Revik frowned, shaking his head. “No.”
“Yes,” Wreg said, his tone insistent. “I’ve already done it. You can’t be alone right now.”
Revik let out another humorless laugh. “Who’s in fucking charge here?”
“You are,” Wreg said promptly. “But you know how this works. You wouldn’t let one of us be alone in this state, either.”
Revik bit his tongue. He could feel the part of himself that wanted to lash at the two men some more, but he restrained that, too. At least Balidor’s girlfriend was out of town. She’d been part of the group they’d sent to track Ditrini as the Lao Hu seer made his way through the Middle East and Africa. Nodding, if only to get rid of them sooner, Revik started to speak, when a sound from the back of the hotel suite made them all jump.
All three of their heads turned instantly towards the sound.
Revik’s faster than the other two.
At first, the noise was so loud, the light so bright, Revik almost thought a bomb had been set off in the suite. His mind went sharply and without hesitation to Allie. Allie...who he’d left in their bedroom, just on the other side of that wall from where the light came...
He thought of her and the pain in his heart almost debilitated him.
“Wife...” he managed.
He was moving even as he whispered it. He’d already regained his feet, fought and leapt over the back of the couch. He’d moved halfway across the room before he recognized that flicker on the wall. By then, the sound already drowned out his thoughts. He could feel Wreg and Jon following him, but he almost couldn’t make sense of that, either.
It wasn’t a bomb.
The feed monitor had come on by itself.
Staring up at the face that smiled at h
im from that monitor, all of the sickness, worry, grief and pain that had been twisting Revik’s gut for the past hour turned into something more primal. Something a lot easier for that more animalistic part of his brain to understand.
Cass stood there, grinning at him, wearing a leather business suit.
In her arms she held a child of maybe two years old. Well, she would have been that age if she were human...as a seer, she should be at least a year or two older. Revik saw that face, saw eyes the shape of his wife’s staring at him, a mouth that looked like Allie’s, too, dark hair in soft curls. His whole body stiffened as he looked at that little girl clinging to Cass’s neck, watching him warily, as if he were some kind of animal.
Gods. She looked so much like Allie.
She looked so fucking much like Allie...
The resemblance paralyzed him, cut his breath.
He fought for rationality, for something that made sense to any part of his mind. But all he saw was his wife’s body and face in miniature, wrapped in a light that he knew somehow, he fucking knew it, in a way he’d never felt so strongly about any light, not since he’d first laid eyes on Allie herself. He knew her. He knew her so well...
Revik still stood there, paralyzed, watching Cass smile at him through the monitor.
He didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink as Terian walked up behind her––and it was Terian again, not Feigran, Revik could see the difference in the male seer’s eyes, in his walk, in his light, in everything about him. Terian slid up against the child as well, holding the two of them like they were family, like parents would cradle their beloved daughter in their arms.
Revik looked at the three of them, standing there together, and it hit him, for real that time.
They’d stolen his life.
They’d stolen all of it, every part of his life that meant anything to him.
Everything he’d ever dreamed he might have, even when he wouldn’t admit to himself that he wanted it...much less that he believed he’d ever have a chance in hell of having it, in this lifetime, at least. Things he’d wanted, prayed for, even down in that hole under his uncle’s farmhouse when he was a kid. Family. Love. Allie herself, although he didn’t know her then, didn’t remember anything.
Allie's War Season Four Page 32