You're Only Dead

by Jack Parker

  "At no one's bidding. You should have stayed home where you belong."

  "And been murdered? Well that's a touching sentiment!"

  "You weren't, were you? If your little girlfriend out there is telling the truth then I'm sure you would have been just fine."

  "Oh really now, you're jealous of a woman?" Emery laughed derisively. "I knew you were insecure, but that's too rich."

  "I can't manage this, alright?" Kurt snapped. "This isn't a game. I can't get us out of this and babysit your fucking pride at once. It's simply too much."

  Emery stiffened, paralyzed by fury. He'd never been so angry at Kurt. "Babysit me. Is that what you fancy you've been doing these past two years?"

  Kurt tried to speak, but Emery cut back in.

  "I didn't sign up to be your dependent," Emery hissed. "I had plenty of unwanted coddling and condescension when I was still Hunter's captive. I'm not a child and I don't need looking after. I won't stand for this. I am not your inferior. We're partners or we're nothing, Kurt. Do you understand me?"

  "Stop being dramatic," Kurt grumbled.

  "Why don't you just go on and crawl back to your old pal Thompson then, eh? Go back to being a henchman if it's so much easier to tell yourself you've got it all handled from there! Clearly all I did was muck up a perfect situation—not to mention the lovely break you were having from babysitting your inept man-child of a lover!"

  "That's not what I—"

  "If that's really your opinion of me then a thousand apologies for the inconvenience I've caused you, and get fucked!" Emery reached over, snatching his jacket and turning for the door. He made his escape and shut it none too gently behind him, pulling his coat on and marching towards the flat's exit. Victor and Georgie's eyes followed him. "I'm getting some air," he growled as he went past. They didn't dare try and stop him.

  * * *

  Victor winced as the front door slammed, giving Georgie a tense look as they stood in the sudden silence of the apartment kitchen. He wasn't exactly surprised that a fight had erupted with the way Kurt was acting recently. He supposed it could have come at a worse time, but they really needed a game plan right now.

  "We shouldn't have let him leave. It's not safe to be out there alone right now," Georgie said.

  Victor shook his head. "He'll calm down soon. Em runs hot, but he burns out quick."

  A few minutes later Kurt emerged from the back bedroom, looking tired and irritable as he sank down at the dining room table. Victor studied him carefully for a moment. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know if that was, well, safe. Emery yelled when he was angry. Kurt, on the other hand, fucking slaughtered people. Nevertheless they couldn't make time for lovers' spats with what was currently looming over their heads and the sooner this resolved the better. He wandered over, carefully leaning his palms down on the surface of the table next to him. "Uh…everything okay?"

  Kurt didn't look up at him, staring ahead and letting out a long sigh. "What in the hell were the stupid lot of you doing before I got here? Following his every half-cocked impulse?"

  Victor wasn't sure if that agitated him because it was fucking rude, or because it was kind of true. "Lay off. We're all doing the best we can here."

  Kurt's upward glance was moderately apologetic. "Where did he go?"

  "Didn't say."

  Kurt rubbed a hand over his face. "I shouldn't have upset him, I can admit that. But he refuses to see reason. He's too prideful to step aside and he's going to get himself killed. I can't allow it."

  "Emery knows what he's doing," Georgie said.

  Kurt gave her a look that made it pristinely clear he hadn't decided whether or not he found her useful enough to keep alive and Victor quickly stepped in to distract him. "Come on, man, give him a little credit."

  "It has nothing to do with my faith in him. I've dealt with these people before and I know how to handle them, but I can only do so if he isn't a factor. This is not the sort of business where a man can make decisions based on his feelings."

  "Okay. So you're mad because he won't let you call all the shots." Victor paused. "That's pretty royally fucking unfair."

  Kurt glared up at him.

  Victor cleared his throat, sitting down at the table next to him. "Look man…do you have any clue how Em and I even crossed paths again? I was dead when he found me. Way in over my head—I mean five minutes out at most. He single-handedly took out like six guys to get to me. Like it was nothing."

  Kurt continued to stare at him without understanding.

  Victor went on. "Then there was this time we were running from the Dutchman's assassins. We lost them so we stopped for a bit. Tried to take a breather. But then another guy comes out of the blue and I don't see him. Em does. He tackles my ass down a hill and busts the fuck out of his shoulder to keep me from getting shot."

  Kurt straightened up at that, a twist of worry flitting across his features before he tightened them, looking back down at the table.

  "He's always like that. Sure, he's a little gung-ho, but it's kind of fuckin' magnificent in its own way. I still can't believe how he had the balls to strike up a deal with a guy like Ludkov in the first place. Or the fact that he willingly confronted the person he hates more than anything without a second thought. The one who gives him all those extreme night terrors and ruined his life, remember?"

  Kurt didn't respond.

  Victor hunkered down, rubbing his upper arm as he reminisced. "But I think my favorite story was the time he showed up on my doorstep unannounced with the guy who kidnapped him bleeding to death and begs me to help save his life, because—get this—he's nuts about the fucker, and gives him almost three pints of his blood to prove it."

  That one got him. Kurt drew his arms into his lap and covered his maimed hand with his other.

  "Emery can handle his shit. All of us in this room would be dead without him for one reason or another. Did you really just minimalize all the fucked up stuff he's gone through and all the crazy things he's done—all of them for you, by the way—by telling him to go home and stop playing grown-up? Because if so, I can see where he might take issue. Just saying."

  Kurt averted his eyes and refused to look back up.

  Victor knew he'd successfully made his point. He watched Kurt carefully for another moment before he gradually stood and pushed his chair back in. "Georgie and I are gonna go out for some supplies. This place is pretty barren and it'll give you guys a chance to talk. You should use it to make up, because we really can't afford this shit right now. Not while our asses are still on the line."

  Kurt didn't comment as Victor moved away, beckoning Georgie along with him. She quickly joined him with another glance at Kurt. "Nicely done. That seemed to do the trick."

  Victor tossed up a hand in exasperation and headed out. "Let's fucking hope."

  * * *

  The streets of London were both familiar and foreign to Emery. He'd been around this area before. The pub just around the corner was one he'd frequented many times. He'd sat on that bench by the side of the road and smoked for hours while talking to short-term friends. He'd waited at that café down the street for the whole day once when he couldn't find anyone to hang around with, just so that he didn't have to go home. And yet it hardly felt real anymore. The person who had done those things and been that fearful boy was someone else entirely. He didn't exist anymore. He'd been replaced by a man who had seized the reins of his own life, who could no longer be pushed around, controlled, tethered. At least that's what he'd thought until half an hour ago.

  He knew that deep down Kurt's only real motive for saying those things was that he was afraid of losing Emery, but it damn well still hurt. That Kurt of all people could disregard him was so demoralizing that he felt like a stupid, helpless teenager all over again. Was it true? Had he really just made everything worse? He supposed it was true that Victor wouldn't be involved in all of this if it weren't for him…and Georgie probably wouldn't have assassins chasing after her. Hunt
er would still be alive if it weren't for him. But Kurt would still be in the Dutchman's clutches and Victor would be dead. Emery sighed unhappily and stopped at a store window to gaze inside. Below him were a pair of leather boots and he momentarily reminisced about Bill in an attempt to comfort himself.

  Kurt had been so withdrawn since his return. It was understandable, but he had given up so little of the story of what had happened to him while he was away that Emery felt incapable of fully understanding. And instead of allowing him to understand, Kurt simply seemed intent on dismissing Emery for his lack of knowledge. He was dismayed to know that even after all this time Kurt could still be pushed back into that solitary corner of his. That he could become just as closed off as before when prompted, even to Emery. He knew it was a survival mechanism, but it was hard to take. His eyes drifted over to a television he could see further in the shop playing some colorful dance number and his thoughts sank back to a memory jarred loose.

  The first few days after Emery's surgery were positively awful…He fell in and out of consciousness at a moment's notice and was in a fair amount of pain, but Kurt was faithfully by his side from the early morning to late in the evening and was good at keeping his mind off of it. It was like this the third evening he was awake. He was starting to feel a little better, even if he was too weak to move, his bandaged hand lying limp in Kurt's while they spoke. A bit later a nurse came into the room to let him know that visiting hours were coming to a close. Kurt rigidly nodded, eying her intently until she'd left the room before softening a bit and turning back to Emery.

  "I'll be back first thing tomorrow," he assured, lifting Emery's hand to his lips.

  Emery smiled tiredly. "Are you getting enough rest? You're looking a bit scruffy. I don't think I've ever seen you skip a shave before."

  Kurt rubbed the back of his other hand across his throat and then reached out to pinch Emery's own stubbly chin. "Yes, well if you only had a mirror. I'm alright, love. It's just not easy sleeping without you by my side."

  "Don't get too used to it," Emery jabbed.

  Kurt gently set his hand down and stood, leaning over him. "I never could."

  Emery closed his eyes briefly as Kurt kissed his lips. "Goodnight, darling."

  "Goodnight." A caress lingered on his face before Kurt was leaving the room and Emery sighed to himself as he looked up at the ceiling. It would be a long recovery and he knew it. Not that he wasn't grateful to be alive, but spending so much time in a hospital under the scrutiny of others was a little nerve-racking. He felt so exposed here. And in the late hours when Kurt was forced to leave it was pretty much all he had to think about.

  Suddenly the door reopened and the nurse came back in, acknowledging him with a smile. "Hello, Emery."

  "Hello," Emery greeted. "Have we met?"

  "Not while you were conscious," she replied. "I'm Hannah."

  "A pleasure. I'd shake your hand if I could move one."

  Hannah walked over and began to draw the curtains of his window closed. "You'll get your strength back faster than you think. These first few days can be pretty rough. Are you having any pain?"

  Emery instinctively shook his head and it was comically sluggish. "It's pretty dull. Can't move to agitate it, so I suppose that's a plus."

  "Just let me know if there's anything I can get you."

  "Thanks."

  Hannah picked up the television remote from a desk and took it over to him, setting it under his hand. "There. Now you won't get bored out of your mind without Kurt."

  Emery's fingers moved over the remote and he looked up at her curiously. "You've met Kurt, then?"

  She nodded. "I was on duty when he brought you in. He's very sweet."

  Never in all his life did he think he'd hear anyone describe Kurt that way. "Oh…Are you sure you mean my Kurt?"

  "I know the type," she went on, rearranging the pillows behind his head. "He's rough on the outside. Doesn't like to let anyone in. Saves all of his feelings for just one or two people. But he absolutely adores you. When he thought you might not survive this, the look in his eyes broke every heart in the room. I think he was closer to not making it than you ever were."

  Emery frowned. "You're very astute to have picked those feelings out of a man like him."

  Hannah leaned her hands over his bed railing and looked down at him. "I have experience. I guess I developed a soft spot for him right away because…well, he reminded me of my husband. They even look similar."

  "Oh?"

  She nodded. "Xander was the same way. Tough. Closed off. Most people thought he was just plain mean. We met in college but I never thought anything of him—he never gave me anything to access. I didn't even know he had feelings for me—or feelings at all—until he showed up at my dorm room one night and kissed me. But after a while I got see…I got to see what he was guarding, you know? How loving he was. How gentle and vulnerable. It was hard for others to see and they didn't really understand us, but that was alright. We understood it."

  Emery smiled. "I wouldn't change him. I think part of me likes that he's all mine. Conceited, I know, but Kurt certainly knows how to make me feel special."

  "I know what you mean. It's a wonderful feeling." She set about straightening his sheets.

  "Does your husband still treat you that way? Even after all the years?"

  Hannah kept her smile, but her eyes darkened. "I'm sure he would if he could. Another reason I understand Kurt is because I was in his exact position two years ago. Sitting in that waiting room, hoping and praying that I wasn't about to receive the worst news of my life. Xander had an accident. He was struck in an intersection on the driver's side and injured severely. He should have died instantly. The impact broke his back. His neck. Damaged his brainstem. But he was a fighter right up until the end…It took him three days to die."

  Emery looked on at her sadly and wished he could reach out and touch her. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

  Hannah shook her head. "I had two spectacular years with him. So many people never find that kind of love. I can't complain just because I only got a little of it. But I do wish I'd done more to make him feel as cherished and as needed as he always made me feel. How much I loved him. He deserved more. …When someone you love dies, it's easy to get caught up in all of the regrets. There are always regrets."

  Emery very much did understand that. "Yes."

  She looked back at him with another smile. "It taught me more about life than I ever thought a death could. It taught me to care as much as possible, be as kind as possible, do as much for others as I could while I still can."

  "Well you're an excellent nurse," Emery said. "And thank you. For showing Kurt compassion when he needed it."

  "That's my job," she replied brightly, patting his leg. "The cafeteria's closed now, but I bet I can smuggle you some ice cream if you'd like some."

  Emery felt a little bit like a five year-old, but he emphatically agreed.

  He was extremely relieved when he finally got the okay to head on home. His legs were still wobbly but it was fantastic to be wearing clothes again instead of a gown, he thought as he sat in the lobby while Kurt checked them out. After a moment or two Hannah came around, smiling down at him as she passed. "Ready to go home?"

  "So very ready," he said with an overly enthused nod.

  He was surprised when she leaned down and hugged him. He hugged her back, staring with wonder as she pulled away. "Take care of yourself, Emery. And take care of him, too."

  Emery caught Kurt's curious stare from across the room momentarily and grinned. "Thank you, Hannah. I will."

  And he would.

  Emery traced his finger along a crack in the glass window before dropping his arm to his side and pushing away. It was time to go back. Hopefully Kurt had cooled off and really, this was ridiculous. There was too much still at risk, too much else to focus on for them not to be unified right now. He probably shouldn't have stormed off. He had a damn hard time curbing his wayward passion sometimes. He
turned off and made his way back to the flat, where he readied himself to calm any impending arguments.

  He climbed the steps slowly and walked into the flat to see Kurt sitting at the dining table alone. Victor and Georgie were nowhere to be seen. The moment Kurt saw Emery enter he stood up.

  Emery looked around and slowly removed his jacket. "Where are the others?"

  "They went out. May I speak with you?"

  He looked at Kurt's very repentant face and quickly softened. He nodded mutely and wandered over to sit at the table. Kurt sat down after him.

  "My behavior was juvenile. The accusations I made were inexcusable and I'm very much ashamed of myself. I'm only frustrated with our circumstances. It was despicable of me to take it out on you."

  Emery already felt guilty. Kurt had always been the master of apology. He opened his mouth to reply in kind but he was cut off.

  "Before you say anything, you were right. I didn't make an effort to explain any of it to you. I was determined to take it on myself. I'm still…stuck in this mindset of regaining the bastard I was in order to survive the conditions that forged him. You always tell me that I'm perfect, but I'm not. I'm the furthest thing from it." Kurt paused. "Emery…I've done terrible things."

  Emery eyed him sympathetically and leaned a bit closer into his space. "Kurt…"

  Kurt's eyes remained on the table. "You never asked me much about my past. About how I became the man who abducted you. About what other seedy, licentious things I might have done. You've always given me a completely undeserved benefit of the doubt and judged me only for what you saw. But I have not been a good man…And I've redeemed myself for none of it. Under Thompson's rule I was ordered to participate in things that were objectively depraved. Horrible things. The murder of total innocents…and the worst part of it all was not knowing whether I would have even minded two years ago. If I would have thought about it for an instant beyond its occurrence. But I mind now. I couldn't block you out. I've pumped your blood through my heart and you bled through in every action I took, every thought I had."

  Kurt took a moment to gather his thoughts and locked eyes with Emery. "…When we first met, you were the only person my whole life through who had ever seen me not for what I lacked inside, but for my existing capacity. And you…filled up that emptiness inside of me with all this light that you exude, and I can't pretend it isn't there. I'm a better man for having known you, Emery Fletcher, and there's no coming back from it."