
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/848261.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Additional Tags:
      fake_teenage_superheroes_being_bad_at_feelings, it_rhymes_with_'bloving
      bomage', ha_haaaa_look_at_my_life_look_at_my_choices
  Series:
      Part 1 of World's_Finest_Series
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-18 Words: 15219
****** Worlds Finest ******
by lynadyndyn
Summary
     So Elias, now an expert in three distinct styles of martial arts, had
     enough control over his breath and heart rate that when the door
     opened and Zac entered his first-period homeroom there was only the
     slightest flickering in his inhale, the tiniest ragged edge of
     surprise. Zac, of course, heard it though and spared him a little
     smirk from where he was standing by the teacher's desk. Freaking
     Ultras.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The first thing Keith Manning had taught him was the workings of the Lair's
database. "You're the one who wanted to be useful to me," he had said when
Elias had complained. "Utilizing your existing skills, that's useful." It had
taken months of system administration before Keith finally relented and began
schooling him in field work. Even then, Elias' first martial arts lesson had
been breath control.
"Breath is the foundation of life," Keith's arms had been loosely folded, hands
buried in his gi. "You can't throw a punch if you can't breathe through it.
There are myriad uses besides. If you're undercover or being interrogated, for
example. It helps you regain your rational mind in times of panic. Control is
important in all things."
Revenge had been Elias' occupying obsession at the time. He felt as honed and
purified by it as sunlight through a magnifying glass. But he was still eleven,
so when he said, "Interrogated?" it came out in a broken squeak.
Keith had nodded, shadows from the subterranean waterfall playing fractals on
his face.
Elias went to push up his glasses. He was always forgetting back then about the
lasik. "I guess it's good to be prepared for any possibility."
The hard line of Keith's mouth didn't change. "Or eventuality."
So Elias, now an expert in three distinct styles of martial arts, had enough
control over his breath and heart rate that when the door opened and Zac
entered his first-period homeroom there was only the slightest flickering in
his inhale, the tiniest ragged edge of surprise. Zac, of course, heard it
though and spared him a little smirk from where he was standing by the
teacher's desk. Freaking Ultras.
"We have another transfer student today, guys," Klingerman said, distracted but
not entirely despondent for once. His under eye circles had lessened some;
Elias considered the possibility he had been able to pay off his gambling
debts. "Welcome to Sinclair Wellington Prep. It's not always fun being the new
guy as a junior so I expect that the other upperclassmen will do their best to
make you feel welcome. Why don't you introduce yourself?"
"Sure!" Zac said, like this would be the supreme pleasure of his life. He
leaned back against Klingerman's desk, just soaked with confidence. "Hey, I'm
Zachary Stone. Zach, really. My parents just moved to Idaho but I didn't want
to leave Connecticut, so we compromised on boarding school. I was on the soccer
and swim teams at my old school. I guess you could say I like to have a good
time. I'm looking forward to being here. Enjoying the Sinclair Wellington
experience. And stuff."
Elias couldn't resist giving one small pointed cough. Zac shot him a face, a
split-second's worth of exasperated urgency. Elias kept himself from rolling
his eyes. He couldn't begin to understand why Paragon had given Zac this
assignment. Even if the age range was appropriate Zac was terrible at
undercover work, always had been. His disguise today was particularly last
minute, pretty much a pair of glasses and a haircut, and he wasn't doing a
thing to sound like he wasn't from California. What, he thought these kids
didn't watch the news? The better Ultras, among whom Zac counted both by blood
and mettle, made a practice of going unmasked. They had nothing to fear,
nothing to hide. So their camouflage, when employed, was generally ineffective.
Zac's regulation dress shirt strained at the shoulders and there was nothing
anyone could do about the line of that jaw. His signature glow was muted of
course; he was in civvies but there would always be something effervescent
about him. Although maybe Elias was just especially attuned to it.
Anyway, the East Coast was Nightmare's jurisdiction, always had been. Elias
wasn't looking forward to reporting this.
"Great," Klingerman said. "Go find a seat, Mr. Stone." There were a couple
empty desks in the room, painfully and radiantly so, and Zac chose one on the
same row as Elias. The rustle from the other boys was more anticipatory than
resentful at Zac claiming a dead man's seat. Boyd Waters was already
introducing himself. Of course Zac would fit in here, he was the preppiest
alien Elias had ever met. He popped his collars during their downtime at the
Commando Tower.
"Okay," Klingerman was saying. "We'll pick up from yesterday. Mr. Jacobs,
please start reading from page forty-three."
Elias waited out the rustle of turning pages. Once Jacobs was safely droning,
Elias tapped out code with his pencil against his desk. 1:15. Meet me in the
abandoned lab in the south wing. Zac didn't so much as twitch, just kept
doodling in his notebook, his eyes slowly glazing over. Elias tapped it out
again, as loudly as was unsuspicious.
Two minutes later he felt his civilian cellphone buzz in his pocket. When he
snuck it out and snapped it open, the text read dude, what the hell, like I
remember ur freaky nitemare spy crp. anyway u want to hook up/ not like that
tho ha ha ha.
Breath control gave you the power of calm. Elias inhaled steadily and texted
back. 1:15. There's an abandoned chem lab in the south wing. And, after a
moment's consideration: douche.
***
Elias' old school, back before he had set up the dummy homeschooling reports,
had been a public one and given students forty minutes for lunch. He wasn't by
any means a populist, but there was something inherently obnoxious in how
Sinclair students had an hour and fifteen minute block, starting at 11:45. The
lunch itself was provided by the institution and compulsory, but they could
spend the time anywhere on campus. Seniors could go into town. Keith had been
raised by this sort of institution, which probably explained his fetishistic
insistence on order.
Elias supposed he could have met up with Zac during the time, but he had been
nurturing a routine. It would look suspicious if he abandoned the public parts
of it now. After the bell he snuck into the swim team's unused weight room and
did twenty-six minutes of circuit training. Keith pyramid-lifted; Nightmare had
to be a looming presence, but Elias devoted a lot of effort to keeping himself
lanky and unassuming. Another fourteen minutes to shower and complete any
crucial or interesting homework and then he joined Josh and Braiden for lunch.
The boys at Sinclair Wellington complained about their dress-code, so Elias
made a note not to wear his jacket outside of class, to keep the knot in his
tie loose and sloppy. Not gunning for popularity, just unobtrusivity, which was
both harder and easier at an all-boys school. So far he'd had to talk his way
out of three fight, but no friendships had been destroyed competing over him
either. When he was fifteen, Elias had hesitantly brought up the idea of
plastic surgery, widening his nose maybe or filling out his cheeks, just
something small to make him less noticeable. But Daphne had been in the Lair,
and he had just ended up getting a lecture about the sane amount of investment
one should have in the work.
Back upstairs and emptying out his books into his cubby, Elias heard weighted,
measured footsteps behind him and then heard them stop. He faked a start after
he turned around. "Headmaster Strong! Hi!"
"Hello, Mr. Barnes," Strong said pleasantly. "Off to lunch?"
Elias shifted his weight. "Just about, yeah."
"Good," said Strong. He rubbed his massive slab of a hand over his pockmarked
cheeks. "It's good to see you adjusting so quickly to life at Sinclair
Wellington. But then again, why wouldn't you? Ha ha."
"Ha ha," Elias agreed.
Strong took two deliberate steps towards him and laid his hand on Elias'
shoulder, the movement choreographed, ritualistic. "Let me know if there's
anything I can do for you, young Mr. Barnes."
"Actually," Elias said, making eye contact. "There is. Coach said no and I know
it's bad timing, but I was really into the track team at my old school. I was
hoping, maybe, tryouts would be soon...?"
It was a moment before Strong spoke. "You've become close to young misters
Sanders and Gregory, haven't you?"
It was cocky, but Elias let himself give into the impulse to narrow his eyes.
"Yes."
Strong pursed his mouth, stormy and strange, before breaking into a smile. "At
your age, it's very tempting to do the same activity as your friends. But you
seem a... precocious young man, Barnes. Surely you have the patience to wait
until spring tryouts. Just more respectful that way. Show some decorum."
Well it had been worth a try and it certainly had never been plan A. "Yes sir."
Strong squeezed his shoulder, a beat too hard, a beat too long. "Good boy. Put
your jacket back on before class. And don't forget lunch."
Elias watched his footfalls as he walked away. Strong had good balance.
"Dude, Freddie," said a voice behind him and shamefully enough this one kind of
did take him by surprise. Braiden Gregory had a father who ran a Fortune 500
Company, a bag of weed on his person essentially at all times and a wide smile.
Elias might have been drawn to him even if he hadn't proved to be a convenient
in. "Was that the Headmaster? What did he want to talk to you about?"
Elias smoothed over his features into something bland. Braiden raised his hand
for a fist pound and he followed suit. "Aw, you know, nothing big, just how I'm
settling in and shit." It wouldn't be the first time he had to keep himself
from offering a warning or the first time he knew a warning wouldn't do any
good.
"What'd you tell him, Barnes? You tell him about how you sleep with a
nightlight?"
"Oh fuck you, fucking hilarious, Sanders," but Elias' laugh caught in his
throat when he saw Zac scowling at him as he moved down the hall, not quite
remembering to put each foot down completely as he walked, skimming the ground
below him.
****
Zac was ten minutes thirty-two seconds late so far, most probably purely to
prove a point. What the point was, Elias wasn't entirely sure but he had
guesses. Showing he was innately more popular and likable to their fellow
students; that he wasn't at Elias' beck and call. Any number of extremely
juvenile statements. Elias took the time to write down the morning's
observations into the electronic notebook he and Keith had built into his iPod,
the digital imprint of each stylus stroke fading after precisely .3 seconds.
He heard a rapping on the window, four quick beats, and felt dread drain into
his stomach. Sure enough, when he turned around Zac was hovering outside,
perfectly vertical, like he was bobbing gently on a string. Elias scrambled
over with embarrassingly little finesse to open it.
"What are you doing?" he hissed as Zac floated in and landed on the floor ball
of his foot first, like a ballerina. "Blow your own cover, fine, but I've been
cultivating mine for two weeks."
"Chill, Stalker, jeez," Zac drawled. He was grinning slightly; his dimples were
showing. "No one saw me, it's cool. And I'm sure your "cover"" he actually did
fingerquotes, the tool. "Is just you being a total nerdhole some more. It'd be
a crying shame to compromise that."
Elias crossed his arms. "Look, Paraboy-"
He had always thought it was one of the more tragic elements of Lutractiann
physiology, that they flushed. "It's Beacon, asshole," Zac said. "I changed it
last year, you know that."
"What are you doing here?"
Zac shrugged, terribly faux-casual. "Followed the body count. You don't get to
call dibs on cases just because you quit the team."
"Mysterious murders at a boarding school aren't usually your thing. Don't you
have a twelve-story tall lizard to punch?"
"Sorry, they're all at a twelve-story tall lizard convention," Zac said
sullenly. His eyes went bluer, like a pool lit up at night, which meant what he
was going to say next was intended to be cruel. "Or hey, I'm a swinging single
now, maybe I came to an all-boys boarding school looking for a little slice of
rebound pie."
Elias kept himself perfectly still. "This is a serious mission."
"And I'm a serious hero," Zac snapped. "I was trained by the best, same as you.
Sterling and Silver say hi, by the way."
Elias stared at Zac for a beat. Zac just stared back, ruggedly solid and
defiant as Elias remembered him, chewing his lip.
Elias uncrossed his arms and reached for his backpack on the table. "Fine. I
won't let this start another pissing contest between Paragon and Nightmare. But
we work as a team on this. You check in with me."
"You check in with me," Zac said. And oh there were so many ways to interpret
that statement.
Elias chose to ignore all of them. "You were late, so we don't have enough time
to go over the details with the attention they deserve. What dorm were you
assigned?"
"Why Stalker, I do declare," Zac said. "Do you intend to sneak into my personal
chambers unchaperoned?"
Elias raised an eyebrow, keeping himself granite-faced.
Zac wilted slightly. "I'm in Jefferson Hall. I told them I had a learning
disability and needed privacy to concentrate on studying, so they gave me a
single."
That was grudgingly impressive, although it would have been more so if Zac
hadn't learned it from Elias. Still, he had paid attention. "We'll meet there
then. After dinner."
Zac nodded and picked up his own messenger bag, shouldering the weight
gingerly. "Yeah. We'll meet up then." He went to move and then paused, chewed
his lower lip some more and Elias felt his own gaze sliding down to track the
motion, the wetness there. "It's good to see you again," Zac said finally,
hesitantly but like he had just decided on that fact. "I mean, see you. No
mask."
It was a rookie mistake to get into the emotional sphere when working, and
engaging Zac on this level always lead there. "You saw me without the mask all
the time."
"Yeah," Zac said grinning, a little ruefully. "But even then it was, you know,
Stalker, just not wearing a mask. Now you look more like... you. I don't know.
Like a normal kid."
"Neither of us has ever been normal."
"No," Zac said. "But at least I wanted to be."
***
Elias had hidden his equipment and the suit under floorboards he had wedged
open in his dorm room. It was pretty embarrassingly crude, but the
accommodations were spartan in that manful, WASPy New England way, the
furniture cheap and breakable besides. Not a surfeit of options. He had managed
to rig an unsophisticated trigger lock at least, keyed to his thumb print.
He knelt on the floor to fish out his transmitter, winced a little as it met
resistance going into his ear. Elias adjusted the frequency with his thumb and
it crackled to life, Keith saying, "Six twenty-one?"
"Alpha black," Elias said. "Beautiful day."
"Stalker," Nightmare said. "Report in."
"Body count remains the same," Elias said. "I picked up from the police scanner
that they're taking a lack of a corpse for the third victim to mean he's a
runaway. Ruled out kidnapping completely."
"Hrm," Nightmare said, which mean useless. The police generally had to be
exceptional to satisfy Keith, but that wasn't nearly exclusive to them. "What
else?"
"I don't think it's anyone local. Your rogues leave more clues and this guy's
been pretty thorough. I've narrowed down the site to the cross-country course,
definitely. Can't get in to investigate without blowing my cover yet, though.
Still working on that."
"Cover good in general?" Nightmare asked. "Making friends?"
Keith had been the one to insist Elias join the Young Commandos, implacable in
the face of all of Elias' careful arguments and, later, his caterwauling. "What
can I possibly learn there that you couldn't teach me yourself?" Elias had
finally offered, shamelessly flattering in the last few minutes as he trailed
Keith to the jet.
"These Ultras are the eventual successors to the current generation. They're
inevitably going to be your comrades and your teammates," Nightmare had said.
His cowl had been on although they were in the Lair, Elias remembered, making
his silhouette amorphous and unsettling in the dark. "You need to learn how to
work with them. Besides, it will do you some good to socialize with people your
age."
"No it won't," Elias had pointed out, but of course it had in the end. Elias
had been relatively new to it at the time, couldn't exactly recognize its
shape, but Nightmare was an old hand at loneliness. His kindness came in
strange and unexpected ways.
"There's been a new development," Elias said. "Beacon has also enrolled."
He heard Keith murmur thoughtfully, the sound uncomfortably intimate in his
ear. "Investigating too, I take it."
"Yeah. We're working together."
"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?" Keith was always blunt. "You lead me
to understand there was some friction between you and your former teammates.
You might have trouble keeping a clear head."
Which was one way of putting it. Keith knew - or at least he had to know, his
entire life was built on an empire of knowledge - but this wasn't something
Elias was talking to him about ever. He made his own decisions, especially his
own mistakes. Keith wasn't responsible for bailing him out.
Elias said, "I don't see that there's another choice."
"Maybe not," Keith said. "I'm going to talk to Paragon though. He's
overstepping his bounds. Be careful, Eli."
Keith had used that, 'be careful', as his signature sign-off to him for years,
stopping abruptly on Elias' sixteenth birthday. He had started back up again,
just as suddenly, two months ago. Elias was tempted to draw attention to it, to
get indignant, except it had become a relevant piece of advice. But alone in
his small, anonymous room, Elias grinned. "I'm not just careful. I'm amazing."
Keith grunted again. Maybe he was amused or maybe he disapproved of Elias'
youthful enthusiasm, it was hard to tell over the phone. "Pythia is requesting
to be patched through. Report at 2100 tomorrow."
"I will," Elias said, but Daphne's voice was already coming in, sweet and
sleepy. She was always awake these days.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hey Pythia. You wanted to talk to me?"
"Just checking up on you, shorty. You've been away from home for a long time.
Everything okay?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Pretty standard stuff over here."
"You little liar," Daphne said affectionately. "But yeah - I also wanted to
tell you, there's been noise in the local news about pollution in the river.
Weird chemicals showing up in the water. Couldn't hurt to see what's what."
"Thanks, Pythia. I'll check up on it. Anything else?"
"Nope, that's all. You'd better get going. Don't want to be late for your
date." She cut off the transmission before Elliot could control his sputter. In
lieu of anything more constructive to do, Elias took out his ear piece and
glared at it.
***
To prove Daphne and her surveillance network wrong, he didn't change out of his
shirt and tie when he went to Zac's room. Nevermind what she would have to say
about a disheveled school uniform, the key here was creating the impression of
complete disinterest. When Zac opened the door, Elias saw he had changed, out
of his stupid fake glasses and into his stupid blue polo and his stupid khaki
shorts. They were standard issue for him slouching around the tower, which
implied a lack of effort on his part too. There was no reason why that should
be annoying.
Out of the room trickled the sounds of... "Are you watching Garden State
again?"
"Zach Braff had a vision," Zac said, shutting the door firmly behind him. The
Commandos had given Zacir-Sto Fahn a crash course in the kind of Earth culture
his uncle wouldn't know better than to neglect. Parts of it had imprinted more
deeply than others. Elias had never gotten him into Mahler, for example. But
Zac's laptop, teetering on a beanbag chair, wasn't playing a movie. Elias
looked behind him, but Zac had made the good strategic move of placing his
uniquely giant mass between Elias and the door. Elias didn't have much of a
choice but to take a step forward towards the Skype window and give a little
half-hearted wave. "Hey, guys."
The music ended abruptly, like one of them, most likely Falconette, had turned
off the CD. "Stalker!" Silver said. She, her brother and Falconette - Wielder
was conspicuously absent - were jockeying for space in front of the camera, but
she was winning. The pearly cast to her eye came through in full digital
splendor. "Oh wow, Stalker, hi! It's good to see you!"
"It's good to see you too," Elias said, meaning it.
"I just happened to be talking with the guys," Zac said, his voice dripping
with lies. Elias didn't even do him the favor of looking at him. "Lost track of
time, I guess! You know, talking to the team. About all the good times we've
had."
"Uhuh," said Elias.
"How you doing, man?" asked Sterling. "Keeping out of trouble?"
Elias felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "You wish. No way."
"Beacon says you guys are working a case," said Falconette. She must have just
taken off her helmet; her hair was a disaster of curls. "Sounds pretty big!
Call us in if you need help or anything - we're still your friends. And it's
been way too long."
Elias tucked his hands in his pockets. "It's only been two months."
"Still too long for Commandos," Sterling said. "Even Ex-Commandos."
"You should have been here last week," Falconette said. "Brian got himself dyed
blue for two days."
"Shut up," said Sterling. "Whups, that's the bell, gotta go! Catch you later,
guys!"
"Take care!" Silver chimed in.
"You too," Elias said as the screen went black. He cut the connection on Zac's
end before turning towards him. "Subtle."
Zac shrugged like a cartoon character. "What?"
Elias didn't have the time or energy or even really the safety precautions to
delve into this conversation. "Whatever. Nothing. You want to get to work?"
Zac beetled his brow at having his plot so neatly foiled, but shook it off.
"Yeah, sure. Sit down. You want a pop?"
"I'm okay, thanks." But Elias noticed about himself that even though it was
with the utmost scorn, when Zac suggested he do something Elias generally
obeyed. He sat gingerly on the bed, since the beanbag was occupied, his back
ram-rod straight. Zac gave him a resigned and amused sort of look, irksome in
its familiarity. He pulled up the desk chair and straddled it. "Okay, Stalker-
bot. Fill me in on your detectiving."
Elias unslung his bag and pulled out a manila folder. "March 3rd, Jonas
Brandine was found rigor-mortis in the Sinclair Wellington pool. Autopsy
revealed however that the time of death predated his dunking by five hours. The
coroner also found that samples of Jonas' lungs, heart and liver tissues had
been recently removed." Elias raised an eyebrow. "However, there were no other
signs of any recent invasive procedure."
"Gross," Zac commented.
"Over the next three weeks there was one other body and one disappearance among
the student body. The corpse belonged to Howie Sibell, also, upon autopsy,
found to be missing organ tissue. Jerry Valetti's body so far hasn't been
recovered yet. The police are chalking Sibell up to a suicide and Valetti as a
runaway or kidnapping. But I think a killer just got better at hiding his
tracks." Elias handed the folder over to Zac, whose fingers brushed his with
the exchange. He would never have callouses and the softness of that skin, as
always, felt like an abrupt invasion of privacy. Elias folded his hands back
carefully in his lap. "All three students were on the track and field team."
Zac flipped through the evidence, his eyes moving quicker than Elias could
follow. That's what always made this so dangerous; at the end of the day, Zac
was a consummate professional. "So what are we looking at here, a serial killer
who gets off on jocks and organ meat?"
"I thought that might be the case at first. But the deeper I looked, the more
the pieces didn't add up. The track thing was a good lead, but there weren't
any obvious connections or motives there. So I did some blood and saliva work
and found that four of the eight remaining members of the team had really
bizarre hormone levels. Like they were experiencing liver failure. With no one
reporting having recently undergone any surgical procedure of any kind."
"You got blood? Jesus, how did you manage that, you little freak?"
"So I expanded my sample size," Elias continued gracefully. "To include more of
the general student body. I got similar results for over half the school!
There's no discernible pattern in the victims, believe me I've checked. The
track team was just affected more because of their higher levels of physical
activity! Their organ damage just finished them off quicker, but this whole
school is under attack. Someone is basically stealing these kids' organs
without them knowing it! What?"
"Nothing," Zac said. But that was a reoccurring condition, Zac looking a little
dazed when Elias got excited about something. "Wow. That's fucked up. Who would
do that?"
"I don't know," Elias admitted. "The headmaster here is seriously sketchy, but
his background check is clear. Whoever it is, they'd need a major facility to
do it in. I ran a thermal scan across campus and there's a big hot spot
underneath the cross-country course. It could be another reason the track team
was the first to be exposed to whatever this is. I was planning to investigate
tonight after we were done with this briefing."
"Awesome, I'm briefed," Zac said. He basically twirled out of his chair, the
showboat, and Elias barely had time to shield his eyes before there was a
flash, a supernova gone local. When he blinked himself back to normal, Zac was
in his suit, white and silver and glittering like fish scales. "Time's a-
wasting. Let's go!"
"I left my uniform in my room," Elias said, more sheepishly than he would
prefer.
"It's cool." Zac collapsed on the bed beside him, all undignified limbs. "I'll
wait." Elias shrunk in on himself a little, faced with all that heat. Zac
turned towards Elias and paused. "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"That kid in the hall called you Freddie." Zac wrinkled up his nose. "Freddie
Barnes. It'd be totally retarded if it was, but still, I thought... is that
your real name?"
Elias thought about what to say. In the end though, all there was still was,
"No."
Zac laughed without humor, like there was just nothing else to do. "Yeah.
Figures."
***
New Corum nights were backlit and dour with pollution, but at least they were
home. Not that Elias was unprepared for the wilderness - he sure had bitched
about survival training, mostly because Saskatchewan was a cold and lonely
territory to be air-lifted and abandoned in for over two months - but he wore
the city like a second cape, crumbling buildings and oily river and all. This
crisp, efficiently bucolic New England countryside took some adjustment.
Zac didn't comment when Elias returned suited up, but he looked a little
relieved to see the uniform. Elias didn't blame him. All that exposed skin; it
got uncomfortable. Elias nodded at Zac before unholstering his grapple and
firing it off into the trees. Zac nearly kept pace for once, slowed down by
branches. He was glowing slightly, enough to light the distance without giving
away their location. The effect was phosphorescent, like traveling somewhere
subterranean and claustrophobic, suggesting something a lot more romantic than
the cut-away patch of cultivated forest they were using for cover.
"You haven't lost your touch," Zac said, watching Elias flip open his scanner
in free fall, firing his grapple at a tree three hundred feet away four seconds
before impact.
"I still patrol," Elias said, clipped, not sure if he was more annoyed at
himself for showing off or at Zac for noticing. "We're close to where I picked
up the irregular readings. Way too hot."
"Right," Zac said. "You patrol New Corum. You didn't hang up the cape." He
alighted on a solid branch where Elias had been aiming a landing, forcing him
to skitter into a crouch. "Just not interested in the Commandos anymore."
Elias kept himself down low. "The Commandos were never my primary
responsibility."
Zac took a deep breath and said earnestly, rehearsed, "Just because we're not
together anymore, it doesn't have to mess with the team. We're both
professionals, we can deal with it. The Commandos need a Stalker."
"Do we really have to do this now?"
"Yeah, uh, we do!" Zac said, his nimbus flaring slightly. "Because you'd never
do it otherwise! I know you. You'd rather cut all your friends out of your life
than have to deal with the fallout of us breaking up."
Elias wanted to point out that leaving the Commandos was the fallout. That they
and Zac were sacrifices he had had to make. "That had nothing to do with it."
Zac sneered. "To do with what?"
"With us," Elias stopped and tried again. "With our... we had a disagreement."
"With us splitting up! God, listen to yourself! You can't even make yourself
say we broke up! Nevermind make yourself say we were ever dating, you autistic
little freak. Out of the two of us, who's the real alien here? Because I don't
think it's me."
"If you really feel that way," Elias said snidely. "I'm surprised you want me
back on the team at all."
Zac's nimbus dimmed down to almost nothing, the gray light off a staticky TV.
"We were good together. On the team and off. I don't see why that had to stop."
Elias realized abruptly that he was still squatting, hiding his face. He got on
his feet, matching Zac's height as best he could without going on his tiptoes.
"I don't know, maybe because you dropped me in a volcano?"
When Zac blushed in this light, it turned his face purple. "For the last time
that was an accident You'd just dumped me, I was startled, my hands slipped.
Who dumps someone who's carrying them in midair anyway?"
It was a valid point. It hadn't been Elias' best strategic decision. Flying to
the mission had been one of the few times in weeks they were absolutely alone,
that was a good justification. But in the moment, Elias had been wrapped in
Zac's arms, surrounded by his solidity, his smell, and it had felt unspeakably
disrespectful to delay the inevitable any longer, a travesty of that forming
memory. "You just happened to be startled right as we were flying over a
volcano."
"You were fine," Zac grumbled. "It was dormant."
Elias was about to rattle off statistics about the the human body's reaction to
sudden impact, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, a
detached mass drifting through the larger darkness. "Shut up."
Zac flared down abruptly, nodding when Elias motioned he would take the lead.
Elias holstered his grapple now that the gentle whistle of it would give him
away. He dropped to ground level, feeling the adrenaline rush creep in,
welcoming it.
"He's carrying something," Zac murmured through the comm. He would be the one
to know. Now that Elias was closing the length of his tail, he could see it
too, the ragdoll jerk to it.
"It's a person," Elias said, barely more than a vibration in his throat. Zac
would pick up on it. "Unconscious. Must be a student. Okay, getting a look at
the face now, it's - shit."
"What?"
Elias took another second to confirm, tension tight in his throat. "It's
Braiden."
"Braiden? Who's Braiden? Is that that kid from the hall?" Zac sounded more
anxious than genuinely concerned. "What's the big deal about it being Braiden?"
Elias let the noise fall into background murmur. The man - masked of course,
but nothing ostentatious or identifiable - was large and moved easily but with
deliberation, putting Braiden's limp body down. He kicked over a rock,
revealing an indentation in the ground. A sudden play in the shadows and Elias
could see the dead grey regularity to it, the color of metal at night.
"There's a trap door. Complicated lock, can't make it out just yet."
"Count of three?" asked Zac.
"Wait until he opens it," Elias said, watching him do just that. Retinal scan,
tricky. "On my signal. I'll get Braiden and distract the kidnapper, you go
explore what's down there."
"What? No! Other way around!"
"We don't have time for a debate," Elias said. "Now!" He threw his knife.
It pinned the man's sleeve to the ground, giving Elias enough time to land a
punch. He ripped himself free, though, just as Zac roared into the clearing, a
stream of glitter in his wake. The kidnapper's eyes widened behind his mask.
Criminals were often pretty awed by that move, although in Elias' opinion it
was pretty much the gayest thing ever.
"You think stealing kids' livers is fun, huh?" Zac bellowed, landing another
punch. This one knocked the guy down, where he ricocheted upon impact. "Think
again, jerk!"
"Oh my god," Elias muttered under his breath. Zac was trompling merrily over
the plan, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. Instead he checked
Braiden's pulse - sluggish but miraculously steady - and dragged him away from
the danger.
He propped Braiden up by a tree and turned back. Zac was having a good time at
least, wailing on the guy. From the way he had moved earlier, Elias would guess
the kidnapper was a pretty solid fighter, but a good enough punch from one of
the Paras and no regular human would be oriented enough to retaliate. This one
was curled into the fetal position, arms up and cradling his head, but no,
Elias saw one slab of a hand creeping towards his waist, towards his pocket,
and this guy wasn't fighting back because he was stunned but because he was
smart.
"Beacon, hang on," he said, but the man had already pulled out something
cylindrical. Zac held one fist back, ready to punch, confused for the second it
took for the man to throw it on the ground.
Smoke ballooned out, black and acrid. Elias scrambled but had enough time to
pull out and put on his gas mask. It still reduced visibility near to zero. He
had put Braiden roughly twenty paces northeast and retreated back as he
remembered, strapping a mask on him as best he could by feel. "Beacon? You
still there?"
"I am. The guy's gone though. I can't see a goddamn thing." Zac sounded angry
but not particularly nervous. Elias also doubted the gas was laced with
anything capable of hurting him. "You okay?"
"Just peachy," Elias said, fishing the mini-fan out of his utility belt.
"Although I can't tell you how much better I'd be if someone ever stuck to a
plan."
"Oh bite me," Zac said, sullen somewhere in the fog. "It was a dumb plan. I
wasn't going to leave you alone with that freak."
The cloud began dissipating with the fan's high nasal drone and Elias waded
through it towards the sound of Zac's voice. "I could have handled him."
"Right," Zac said skeptically.
This was all so familiar Elias could scream. Who lead the Commandos has always
been the major point of contention between them, a four year long, smoldering,
low-grade argument that pretty much culminated in their making out in the
Commando Tower locker room ten months two weeks ago. Which itself lead to
Elias' constant and higher grade state of anxiety since then. Even before
calling an end to it, this thing between them never lessened the fighting.
There hadn't ever been any concrete benefits to it except, Elias supposed,
maybe that it had made him happy.
Elias put Braiden in a fireman's carry over his shoulder. Whatever he had been
dosed with, it was alarmingly thorough. His breathing hadn't even changed. He
went over to where Zac was aimlessly poking at the hidden door, the last of the
smoke snaking around his feet. The door was shut tight, the seams almost
invisible. Elias could try to override the retinal lock but he was sure
failsafes had been installed against that sort of thing.
"We could blow it up," Zac said, almost an apology.
"No point." Elias sighed, slipping off his gas mask and shaking his hair out.
"He's long gone by now and that would cause too much of a scene. We'll just
have to try again tomorrow. Fuck."
Zac ran a hand through his own hair, not meeting Elias' eyes. "Give me the kid.
I can take him back to his room. You should try to get some sleep."
Nothing would get resolved tonight and seven-thirty breakfast was mandatory.
Elias pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his mask. "Yeah, thanks."
Zac shouldered Braiden's weight comfortably, cradling him like a newlywed. He
spared a second to study Braiden's slack face before screwing up his own. He
was flaring up slightly, unconsciously, like he always did when he was lost in
thought. He used to do that in Elias' room in the Tower, lounging on the bed
when Elias was working, reading a comic book or doing his geometry homework.
The effect was about equal in luminescence and comfort to that of a candle.
"Beacon," Elias said, and stopped. He wasn't sure where he had been going with
that.
Zac quirked a smile. "I know, I know. Reconvene bright and early tomorrow,
Stalkatron. We'll take it from there." Zac took flight and hovered for a
moment, shifting Braiden in order to throw Elias a lazy salute. "We'll get the
bad guys. We always do!"
"Right," Elias said to himself, watching Zac leave a comet's trail in his wake,
shining and subtle like constellations, like an equation written by an ancient
god. "That's exactly what I was planning to say."
He took to the air himself, blending in with all the other unnoticed aspects of
the night.
***
Elias generally took stimulants when he was working, just enough that
grogginess would never be a factor in his performance. Daphne fretted, but they
were really only equal to a strong dose of caffeine. They were similar in
withdrawal effects as well. Elias woke up the next morning with a headache and
a slimy tongue and an intense grudge against the concept of motor control. He
groaned and dragged himself to the closet, sighing a little with relief as he
jabbed the syringe into his neck.
He had showered the night before when he got back, didn't bother with one this
morning. Just dressed in time to get him to the dining hall at precisely 7:25.
His budget didn't quite stretch enough to accommodate running into Strong
halfway across the quad, but at the moment, squinting in the weak sunlight, it
seemed largely unavoidable. The man had planted himself in the middle of the
sidewalk like a monolith.
"Barnes." It was not a polite word. "Sleep well?"
"Very well, sir," Elias said, smiling. He was feeling mean today. "Yourself?"
Strong smiled back or at least bared his teeth. "Like the dead."
He couldn't have used makeup. The pores and craters of Strong's face were too
well-defined and ugly. But there were only faded signs of long-term abuse,
broken capillaries in his nose, yellowed teeth. No fresh bruises at all. What
the hell? "Always good to hear, sir."
Elias made a move to pass him but Strong feinted at the same time, leaning
forward to tower over Elias in full. "Refresh my memory, young Barnes. Where
did you transfer from again? New Corum?"
"Boston, sir."
"Oh yes," Strong said. Elias wondered why he was confronting him outside, in
full view of the campus. If Strong were a savvier operator, Elias might have
thought he was making a statement about his dominion over the school allowing
him this sort of brazen power, but really he suspected it was just poor
planning. Strong lost his head when he was angry, that was good to know. "Thank
you for reminding me. Please, don't let me make you miss breakfast."
Elias took a step and was allowed to pass this time. "No, sir."
"Eat up," Strong called after him. Elias didn't change pace. "You're a growing
boy."
The shot had left him faintly nauseous, mornings did in general, and Elias just
helped himself to a piece of toast and a cup of coffee. He planned to make the
most of lunch though. Despite everything you could say about Sinclair
Wellington, the food here was plentiful and good. The main dining room wasn't
too posh but clearly used to be, an odd mix of plastic trays and oak tables.
Braiden and Josh usually sat at a four-seater in the corner but accessible to
the rest of the room, suitable for introverts who weren't really. Really, Elias
thought as he ambled his way over, it just indicated that he wasn't ever alone
in wanting the assurance of having his back was to the wall.
Elias wasn't expecting Braiden to be at breakfast, which on reflection was
pretty dumb. But not as dumb as the spike of shock that sliced through him when
Zac merrily waved at him by Josh's side and gestured for him to join the three
of them. He looked as cheerful and innocent as a puppy, clearly pleased with
himself.
"New kid adoption program," Josh said by way of greeting as Elias pulled out a
chair. If either he or Braiden noticed Elias shooting daggers at Zac, they
didn't feel compelled to mention it. "It worked out pretty well for you, right
Barnes? Hobnobbing with the best and brightest of Connecticut society."
"Right," Elias said, breaking his toast into four perfect squares. "Hobnobbing.
That's definitely what I'd call what we did Thursday."
"What'd you do Thursday?" Zac said, the other's laughter not quite covering the
discomfort in his voice.
Braiden mimed a joint, invisible between his thumb and forefinger. When Zac
just looked at him blankly he pretended to flick it away. "Nothing you need to
worry your pretty little head about," he said, and went back to eating. Braiden
had a double helping of bacon in front of him and an omelet that oozed bright
orange cheese.
Elias eyed the spread. "You in training, Gregory?"
Braiden shrugged easily. "Nah. Just woke up hungry."
"Didn't sleep too well?"
"No, I slept fine," Braiden said. "Just hungry today."
Elias put his toast down on the tray. "How are you feeling in general though?
Tired? Any headaches? Don't clot as easily when you get cut?"
Braiden looked at him incredulously. "What are you, my mom? You want to kiss it
better, Freddie?"
"He asked you a question," Zac said quietly. Dangerously.
It only confused Braiden more. "Yeah. And I answered it."
"Yeah you did," Zac said, and that was the tone he used to talk to his mirror-
universe counterpart; a rogue Zac hated, Elias largely suspected, because he
was uncomfortable with their similar desires.
"Man, no coffee, Stone?" Elias said brightly. "You can't survive til lunch
without caffeine. Come on, I'll show you where the machine is."
Zac gave Braiden another thunderous look before getting up and following Elias
out of the dining room. Elias waited until they were out in the hallway before
grabbing him by his tie and dragging him to the nearest bathroom.
"You need to calm down," Elias informed Zac over his sputtering. He locked the
door. It was a single stall handicapped bathroom. They could stay there until
the bell. "These kids are supposed to be our classmates. They're definitely not
our targets. We need to assimilate. And how was Braiden so healthy in there?
Strong was too. I bet you anything it was him last night. You were pounding him
for over a minute but I saw him this morning and he didn't have a scratch on
him."
Zac ignored his tangent, muttering under his breath something that sounded
suspiciously like, "Looks like you're doing enough assimilating for the both of
us."
Elias raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, I don't know," Zack said, extensively facetious. "The mind can't help but
wonder what exactly you guys were doing on Thursday."
Elias stared at him for a beat before cupping his forehead in his hands. Maybe
it made more sense to Zac, who came from bisexually normative and all around
more swinging culture, but still. "My god. I have no idea how you can be so
retarded."
Zac put his hands on his hips, the gesture hilariously and unconsciously
queeny. "So prove me wrong."
Elias had researched breakups. Jealousy made sense, but flights of fancy were
not an entirely uncommon reaction either. Still there was no reason to indulge
this. "We were smoking up, dipshit."
Zac's eyes got theatrically wide. "You did drugs?"
"Yes, I did drugs," Elis said patiently. "To get close to them. Because they
are both drug dealers."
"You're friends with drug-dealers?" Zac yelped. Being raised by Paragon had had
more of an impact on him than Zac would ever acknowledge. Elias sometimes
envied him that, the simple certainties Paragon had given him about the world.
"They're just rich jocks who sell pot on campus, it's not like they're crime
lords," Elias said. "I always make friends with drug dealers on assignments
like this. They have their ear to the ground in any school, plus they provide
access to the criminal community. In any case, I definitely didn't have a giant
gay orgy."
"Wait, you smoked pot?" Zac said, this clearly just sinking in. "You got wacky
on the junk! Did that mean you loosened up for once?"
Elias studied the sink. The cleaning staff must have been by less than two
hours ago, from the soap scum. "I've deliberately built up my tolerance to
marijuana over the years."
Zac leaned against the wall, tilting his head slightly. "Of course you have.
That's just creepy enough to fit the bill. But you're affected by those weird
shots you give yourself. Still using those, I see." When Elias shot him a look
that must have been alarmed, Zac smiled, his hair falling in his eyes. "Your
pupils get funky after you take them."
"You're the only one who can see it."
Zac shrugged. "I know enough to look. I don't like it."
"Yeah, well, they give me an edge. At the end of the day some of us are still
just glorified monkeys, Night Light." It took Elias a beat to realize his
mistake, not understanding at first why Zac's eyes got wide or why his smile
went secretive and triumphant. Throwing back his own words at him, a quote from
when they were thirteen and didn't trust each other that had become part of
their personal mythology, usually didn't make Zac smug. It was only when he
turned his lounging into something more deliberate and provocative, canting his
hips out, making the light play off the perfect angles of his face, that Elias
realized that dumb nickname had subtler shades of meaning for Zac than he had
anticipated. According to the warmth unfolding low in Elias' stomach, it had a
specific meaning for him too. Elias felt himself flush. "Anyway, Braiden has to
be missing a chunk of his liver by now-"
"The thing is," Zac interrupted, moving towards him, big and blocky in his navy
blazer. "You never told me what I did, Stalker. And I know you, there had to
have been a reason in that giant robot brain of yours. You wouldn't have dumped
me over nothing."
This was quickly escalating out of control, particularly as measured by Elias'
dwindling grasp on his anger. "Will you stop saying I'm a robot? I hate that.
I'm not a robot."
"You're right, you're not a robot," Zac said. "You just act like you'd rather
be one sometimes. Is that why you called it off? You were feeling things? It
got too real and it scared you?"
The thing Zac would never get, would be horrified by if he even could wrap his
mind around it, was that Elias didn't have the capacity to understand things as
real the way Zac understood them. Look at him now, so utterly and gorgeously in
the drama of the moment. But part of Elias' mind, a calm, cool murmur, would
always be a place apart, cataloging and judging, deducing and planning. He
observed the situation, he didn't actually live in it. Keith had trained that
quality in him, burnished it to a mirror shine, but Elias had always been like
this. Even at his most dedicated it wasn't like Elias could be capable of
giving Zac what he deserved.
"I've had two months to think about it," Zac said. "And I've come up with a lot
of theories. You'd be proud. You got scared and ran away, that's one. I though
maybe you were called off to a long-term dangerous assignment you didn't want
me to know about, although if you did you obviously came back fine and still
don't want to be with me. Maybe you got back together with that girlfriend of
yours, but I think then you would have had the guts to tell me. Maybe I asked
too many questions. Probed too much about you and Nightmare. I mean, it seemed
pretty reasonable to me, wanting to know certain things about my boyfriend,
like his name but it always seemed to piss you off."
"It's not like I have a choice in how much of my identity I can reveal," Elias
shot back. "I made a promise."
"You made a promise to me too," Zac said fiercely. "Us, that was a promise. I'm
sick of you pretending you don't see how we fit together."
Which was an odd thing to say about a deposed alien prince and a blue-collar
kid from Eastside New Corum, and untrue besides. Elias had mostly tried to
ignore their connection but he never deluded himself that it wasn't there. The
air felt sticky on his skin. Something about the plumbing maybe. "You don't
know everything about me. Maybe you just think we fit because those are the
parts of me I let you see."
He was expecting Zac to get angry, but instead his face drained of everything
except sympathy. "Did something happen? Something too big to tell me about?"
Zac was as subtle as a boulder - when had he learned to read him, why had Elias
allowed it? Eli measured where they were in relation to the door and said to
Zac, "Move three feet to your left."
"Uh why?" Zac said, thrown by the change in tone but shuffling over.
"Cracks in the doorway," Elias explained. "We're far enough away now that your
glare won't show too much."
Zac examined his hands. "Dude, I'm flared down."
"You won't be in a minute," Elias said and sank to his knees.
Zac bit off a sound, gritty and surprised, automatically bracing his legs wide
against the wall. His hands went to Elias' hair, combing and petting, and Elias
couldn't help a little sound of his own, a purr. He noticed his fingers were
shaking slightly as he unbuttoned the fly of Zac's regulation slacks. They kept
bumping against Zac's growing erection, each touch making Elias' own dick swell
in sympathy. His breathing was shaky too, but Zac's was already heavy above him
and drowning him out. Sometimes he liked to wait, drive Zac crazy with teasing
and take him in into his mouth when he was fully hard. But he didn't have the
patience for that right now; time either really, homeroom started soon..
Besides, feeling Zac get harder in his mouth, having concrete evidence that he
was responsible, that was good too. He didn't pull Zac's pants down, just drew
his cock out through the fly of his boxers. Zac hissed and his nimbus flared
hot-white before flickering down as he got it back under control.
Elias reared to a full kneel for leverage from where he had been sitting on his
haunches, and drew the head of Zac's cock into his mouth, flickering his tongue
around the foreskin. Just cradling it gently as it swelled. He wrapped an
encouraging hand around the base. Zac made another little sound and Elias
looked up at him curiously. Zac was bright red with the effort of keeping
still. He looked terrified and elated, and when he caught Elias staring he
smiled and tugged on his hair. Zac could tear it out by the roots with ease but
he was as gentle as a whisper. Elias couldn't help but smirk back, feeling his
mouth growing wet in anticipation.
"Oh god," Zac said looking at him, almost stricken, and Elias began to suck him
in earnest, with a fast and frantic rhythm.
There's was never any way he could get the full length of Zac's cock down his
throat, but today he wanted to try. He wanted Zac's hands on him harder,
holding him in place, trapping him. He wanted to pry his jaw open on Zac's
dick, to be filled up, to be used. His jaw already ached and it was hard to
breathe but there were still inches, untouchable inches of Zac's dick left, and
he whimpered in frustration.
"Oh god," Zac said. "Oh Jesus. You make those sounds. You get so into it and
you make those noises, god, you're so perfect, so perfect."
Elias closed his eyes, let his throat relax. He wormed his free hand up beneath
Zac's dress shirt, splaying a hand over his upper abdominals, feeling the
warmth of the muscles there, feeling them twitch. Zac flared up again,
swallowing convulsively, but managed to tamp it down. Mostly though, he took
the signal for what it was and began to drive into Elias' mouth, biting his lip
hard to keep quiet, not quite succeeding.
And this was being used. This just felt wanton. Elias felt tears forming in the
corners of his eyes from the pressure, breathing when he could in gasps and
snorts, hearing himself whimper whenever Zac hit the back of his throat. This
part never lasted, it couldn't last. Zac didn't have the control and Elias
didn't have the patience. Elias told himself with each thrust, this is the heat
of it, this is the smell, this is the size. He told himself, this was a time
when things were good.
Zac came with one last broken gasp and a shower of light, staggering against
the wall. Elias swallowed as best he could. He slipped Zac out of his mouth
with a wet noise and buried his face in the valley between Zac's hipbone and
his groin, panting humidity there, breathing in the sharp sex smell. Zac kept
quiet, just ran his hands over Elias' hair gently as Elias fumbled at his own
pants, and then at his own cock, and came after twelve quick strokes.
They stayed like that for forty-three seconds, Elias' come cooling on the
floor. Elias finally turned his head so his cheek was resting against Zac's
hip. "I don't think they'll go after Braiden again tonight. Hormone levels
indicated they give each kid time to regroup." He had to wince at how hoarse
his voice was.
"Yeah," Zac said, dreamy. He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
With one last tiny, definitive sigh, Elias got to his feet, buttoning up his
fly as he walked to the sink. He turned on the faucet, working his jaw. "The
best option at this point is for one of us to act as bait."
"It's not going to be you," Zac was watching him in the mirror with something a
lot like caution. His voice was firm though. "Strong's already suspicious of
you. He practically follows you around."
Elias quirked a smile, washing his hands. "You mean, he's stalking me?"
Zac did up his own pants. "Ha. Good one."
Elias studied his reflection. His hair was passable but his mouth was already
showing signs of bruising. The effect was red and garish in his narrow face,
and he noticed Zac staring. When they were fourteen and Elias had first been
forced to take off his mask to prove he hadn't been infected by Dreamweaver's
psychosis-inducing neurotoxin, Zac had just said, stupidly, "I thought your
eyes would be blue." Right now he saw Elias had caught him watching and looked
away.
Elias turned to face him, bracing his hands back on the sink. "You're right
though, it can't be me. We need someone who can stand up to a tranquilizer in
order to play possum. Also you're new. I bet they'll go after you before me."
"Why?"
"Baseline testing." Elias threw a wet paper towel to him. "Whatever they're
experimenting for, they'll want to establish control results if they're any
good at all. Here. Wipe up the floor."
Zac grimaced but got down on all fours. "Wait, you've been here a while. Did
they get to you already?"
Elias made himself look away to fuss at his tie. "Nah. I've been out at night
investigating. I think that's what must have made Strong suspicious of me, how
I was never around. Three minutes until homeroom, you'd better hurry up. We'll
talk plans in more detail later."
Zac rolled his eyes. "Yes sir." He wadded up the paper towel and it
disintegrated neatly in his hands. Zac took a step towards him, uncertainly,
and reached down to take Elias' chin in his hand. His eyes were huge, blue like
the Earth viewed from an alien planet when it was just a distant star, and
uncertain. "Hey."
Elias turned his face away. He said to the floor, "We really have to go, Zac."
Zac stepped back again, jammed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he said.
Disappointment Elias could have taken in stride, but Zac just sounded like he
had expected this. "Yeah, we'll talk."
That, Elias knew, watching Zac open the door and walk out into the hallway, was
definitely a threat.
***
"Pythia?" Elias said. "Pythia, Alpha Lamda. S-class."
"Reading you, S-class," Daphne said. "What's up? Don't you have gym now?"
Elias adjusted his foot on the piping, bracing his hand more firmly against the
cement wall of the boiler room. "I'm skipping. Is this a secure line?"
"Of course it is, Eli. What's going on?"
"I just... I wanted to talk."
"Okay," Daphne sounded a little surprised, but she was always up for a
challenge. "Sure. What about?"
Elias rested his head against the wall, staring up at the catacomb of pipes
lining the ceiling. He swallowed before he said, "After you lost your leg, how
could you go back to being a cape?"
There was a startled silence on the other end of the channel, even maybe a
little offended. Her prosthetic wasn't taboo, but it certainly wasn't something
Daphne elected much to talk about either. "Well, in a lot of ways, I didn't,"
she said finally. "I never went back to the streets. I just found a way to stay
useful. I adapted."
"Would you have wanted to though?" Elias said. "If you could have kept being
Stalker, is that would you have done? Or would that have been it for you, the
point where you just went that's enough."
Daphne's voice got hard. "Are you thinking of quiting, Eli?"
Elias rubbed his nose through the polymer of his mask. "No. I don't know. No.
No, I'm not."
"Freaking out a little though, maybe."
"Maybe." Elias kicked lightly at the pipe below him. "This just... used to be
easier."
"You've seen more combat than most capes twice your age," Daphne said, in that
measured way that meant she was formulating her thoughts. "It would be
understandable if you were burned out. No one could fault you if you've said
you'd had enough. But if this is just because things got more complicated than
you're used to, well, that's not the Eli I know."
Daphne was essentially his sister, and he still wasn't sure how well she knew
him. That could also just be adolescence though, that sense of isolation and
grandiosity. "I'm forgetting how to keep everything compartmentalized. That's
the only way things made sense. Eli's different from the Stalker Nightmare
needs, who's different from the guy who leads the Commandos, who's different
from Beacon's..."
"Boyfriend?" Daphne said neutrally.
"From Beacon's Stalker. Everything's just blending together on this mission."
"You had an unsettling experience recently," Daphne said. "It's normal to have
doubts after a thing like that. But you've done something a lot of capes don't
really do. You've chosen to really only be around people who can protect
themselves. We all do this to take care of the people we love, but isn't it a
good thing you've found someone capable of taking care of you back?"
Elias shifted his weight. "Just because someone's an ultra doesn't mean they
can protect themselves."
Daphne was quiet for a moment. "Objectively, it gives them a better shot at
it." When Elias didn't answer, she added. "This doesn't have anything to do
with Nightmare, does it? If he makes a stink it'll only be because he misses
you when you're not home. You're the only one who knows where anything is
around the Lair. It won't be because he disapproves."
Elias snorted. "You can't tell me he'd condone this."
"No, but he doesn't think human emotions are a good idea. That's why I've been
in therapy for like five years. The important thing is whether or not you think
it's a good idea."
Elias flexed his fingers in his gauntlets. He had built the latest design
himself; a titanium alloy over a wicking nylon blend. "I don't know if I'm
equipped for this."
"Bullshit," Daphne said. She took a breath. "Keith's the greatest man I know,
Eli. But I'll be so disappointed if you grow up to be exactly like him."
Elias let his head loll against the pipe next to him. "Yeah. Me too."
***
Elias spent most of the rest of the day setting up his backup plan if Strong
didn't pick Zac after all. It kept him mostly away from Zac except for sluggish
texting back and forth with the particulars of that night's stakeout, but it
also kept him out of class. If all went according to plan this would be his
last night at Sinclair Wellington anyway. They had a mechanical engineering
elective, Elias mused, installing his thirty-fourth motion detector to his
thirty-fourth dorm room doorframe. That might have been fun.
Even the stakeout should have technically been avoiding Zac since he was
perched in a tree three hundred feet but a perfect sightline away from Zac's
window, high powered binocular lenses attached to the eye-piece of his mask.
But Lutractianns never seemed to pick up on the subtler steps of the human
dance of avoidance, or at least Zac in particular wasn't that sympathetic.
"Hey, remember that stakeout at that superhero convention where we had to
pretend we were cosplaying ourselves? That was a good time."
"You're supposed to be asleep," Elias reminded him.
"Relax, my eyes are closed. I'm not talking loud enough for anything but the
comm mic to pick me." Through the window, Zac rustled kittenishly, very much as
if in mid-dream, to prove his point or just to be a big handsome jerk. "Or
remember when we did this bit with Graham but his sword wouldn't stop bitching
and it gave away our location? Man, classic."
Elias settled to rest his back against the tree trunk. "Wielder definitely
makes things interesting."
"He says hi too, by the way. Well, he said you were a douche and a pussy, who
needed to stop teetering around on your high-heels and make up your damn mind,
but you know what he meant."
Elias examined the heavy-duty tread of his steel-toed boots. Some parts of the
Stalker legacy were more beneficial to his credibility than others. "He must
have forgiven me a little. When I left he told me he hoped I choked to death on
my little skirt."
"Was she your sister?" Zac's voice was the barest mosquito buzz over the comm.
"The first Stalker. I mean, it's a weird position to be in otherwise, to take
over for a girl. Even a kickass girl. What happened to her?"
Elias didn't answer, just let the crickets cree, organic and oblivious. The
night air was humid and Zac looked a little ghoulish through the infrared.
"And there's the wall," Zac said. "God forbid anyone ever learn the terrible
secrets of the Nightmare family. The rest of us can't be nearly as deep and
important as you."
"Sure, Beacon," Elias said. "This is the perfect time to pick a fight. Please,
keep going."
Zac sighed, a scratchy frustrated sound as translated by the mic. When he spoke
again the aggression had been drained out of him. "I don't want to fight. The
plan was to get here and be all charming and you'd realize how wrong you've
been and fall into my arms. Sometimes I think fighting's all we're really good
at. Fighting and... well. It really messed me up when you left. Silver had to
come and drag me out of my room."
Elias swallowed hard against the collar of his cape. "It wasn't easy for me
either."
"Then why'd you do it?" Zac didn't sound plaintive or entitled, the way Elias
half-hoped he would. He just seemed sad, tired, on the verge of giving up.
"Something happened, didn't it? Besides the volcano thing. Something big
happened. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I could help?"
Of course it had. That had been his first impulse, when Keith had sat him down,
grave as a cancer, to tell him the news. He wanted to go straight to Zac for
some intangible reason, and that had been the last red flag he needed. Zac was
curled up tensely in the fetal position now, his shoulders moving with a steady
forced calm. Elias realized, with some relief because there was always some
relief in free-fall, that he didn't have anything left. "My brother's killer
escaped from the forensic psychiatric unit."
The pause that followed felt heavily weighted, like Zac knew the significance
of his next move. "Older or younger brother?"
"Older," Elias said. "Eight years. He was an ultra, like you. He had a freak
accident when our family went camping. He had increased agility and strength,
nothing that fancy. But he patrolled for a while."
"What was his code name?"
Their mother had had made a scrapbook of the brief handful of newspaper
clippings. It was hard to make a reputation for yourself in Nightmare's town,
but Mike had been managing. Elias was pretty sure she still had it somewhere.
"The Silent Sentry."
"So who did it?" Zac said, most likely so hurriedly to cover up for never
having heard of him. "Manic Mouse? The Whip?"
"It wasn't a cape," Elias said. Through the window he saw Zac stiffen up in
surprise. "Just a schizophrenic who was off his meds." Clarence Darby, age 43.
Divorced, heroin addict. "He got in a lucky shot. I caught my brother sneaking
in through the window his first month on patrol. I was just a kid but I wanted
to help and I was good with computers. So I provided ground support, you know,
info and guidance. I said from the beginning that he should team up with
Nightmare, but my brother wanted to make his own way. Still, I figured that you
couldn't be as good as Nightmare without organizing your data somehow, so I
started looking around..."
"You hacked into Nightmare's computer," Zac said, with relish. "How old were
you, twelve?"
"Ten," Elias said. "And I wasn't quite successful. But that's how Nightmare and
I met. When my brother died, I knew I had to... continue his legacy. I was just
a kid though, a human kid. I needed training. So I went to the best."
He could see Zac fighting not to fidget. He was an active thinker. "So... this
guy escaped from prison. That sucks, don't get me wrong, but if it's just some
crazy dude, maybe it's not worth worrying about?"
"He couldn't have escaped on his own. The hospital kept him heavily medicated
and he wouldn't have known how to break out of a maximum-security facility at
the best of times. It took organization." Elias felt the wind rustle the edges
of his cape. "This was an outside job. Someone went to a lot of effort and
expense to free him."
"Yeah. Wow." Zac cringed a little, clearly at his own reaction. "That's bad."
"He's a low-life nobody." Elias assumed Zac thought he was having a crisis of
faith, but this was nothing compared to two year ago when he found out that
Michael's killer wasn't one of New Corum's gallery of pathetic monsters, just a
stain of a man who thought he talked to angels and smelled like urine. Elias
had nearly walked away then, staggered by the overwhelming certainty that his
life's work had been missing the point. "That's the thing, Beacon. No one would
have bothered to do that unless they knew who he was to me. Someone out there
wants me to know they know who I am. Someone knows who I am."
"Any leads?"
"No. He disappeared."
Secret identities never seemed to make a lot of sense to Zac, who had lived in
the public eye before coming to Earth. He had never bothered inventing one,
just replaced his membership in Lutractainn jet-setting royal society with a
different kind of fame. But he must have understood how fundement-shaking it
was for Elias by the timber of his voice, harsh and fuzzed like velvet rubbed
against the grain. "So you broke up with me because you didn't want to put me
in danger? I mean, that situation sucks, but you get that that's a little, uh,
misguided, right?"
Three hours on watch and Elias gave himself the luxury of rocking back to rest
his weight on his heels. "I know you and the Commandos can take care of
yourselves. Just, the Commandos... you... I had let myself get distracted from
New Corum and the reason I chose this life in the first place. This just - my
parents are in danger. I need to focus."
The silence following was deeply hurt. Finally Zac made a sound over the comm.
"Heh."
"What?"
"It's just weird to think of you having parents."
"Yeah, well," Elias said. "I don't talk to them much."
"Stalker-" Zac said, but the sensor on Elias' wrist took the opportunity to
beep. "What was that?"
"One of the motion detectors was triggered," Elias said. "Shit."
"What's that mean?"
Elias had gotten out his grapple, was already firing. "You weren't Strong's
first choice after all."
***
Elias didn't have to look back to know Zac was following him; the heat on the
back of his neck told him that. The sensor indicated Colby was the triggered
dorm. Elias had only been there once, Thursday. He was already sickeningly sure
of the identity of tonight's captive.
Four hundred yards away from the building and moving, his suspicions were
confirmed. Josh was dangling over the masked man's shoulder, a parody of a
corpse. Elias didn't bother for subtlety, just launched himself at Strong's
massive weight feet first, toppling him to the ground with an impact that
reverberated up Elias chest.
Josh went sprawling two feet away. Elias landed a stomp kick to Strong's solar
plexus before going over to him. "Take care of the Headmaster," he told Zac,
who was hovering several feet above the ground, nimbus bright and faintly
orange. "I'll get the kid somewhere safe."
"Right." Zac grinned at Strong, who was already struggling to his feet. "You
and me, buddy, we've got ourselves some things to talk about."
Elias hoisted Josh up and took back to the tree covering. Behind them the sky
kept flashing the smoky, dangerous blue of a late summer lightning storm or a
malfunctioning X-ray, an indication Zac was enjoying himself. Which meant, in
turn, Strong was putting up a fight.
Elias flicked on his comm. "Pythia? Pythia, Stalker reporting in. We've gone
live."
"Game plan, S-class?" Daphne said. He could hear the clack of keyboards.
"Things still aren't quite adding up. I'm heading back now to do a full-scale
evacuation of the school. Alert any paramedics and law-enforcement officials to
be on high alert. We may end up with a fugitive situation on our hands
depending on what happens with Bea- hang on." Over the churning thoughts in his
own head, Elias became aware of the small painful noises of Josh moaning.
He dropped to the ground and settled Josh down. "Don't worry. I'm a friend.
You've been drugged, you'll probably be disoriented and in some discomfort for
a little while, but that'll go away. If you can, though, I need you to answer
some questions. Did you get a look at who attacked you?"
Josh swallowed with a dry click, his head slumping listlessly. "I..." his voice
was barely a whimper.
Elias crouched down closer. "Yes? You what?"
Josh's eyes snapped open, lucid and hard. "I got a pretty good idea."
The punch came before Elias could credit the motion. The world crashed into
black.
***
Someone was shouting in his ear, high and panicked. "S-class, do you read me?
S-class, are you there? Respond now!"
There was a flicker of motion registering in his peripheral vision and the
voice was gone. "That should be enough of that."
Things were starting to regroup now over the pain in his head. Elias was
horizontal on some sort of gurney, metal by the feel of it. There were five
straps restraining him, two each around his wrists and ankles, one around his
neck. The lighting was almost comforting at first, and it took Elias a moment
to realize that was because he was surrounded by the florescent shadows created
when floodlights were hung in a large, underground space. He must have made it
to the hot spot underneath the cross-country course after all.
Elias had about forty-five degrees to turn his head. Josh was standing there,
looking at him with a haunting lack of expression. His fingertips were singed
and Elias was finally able to connect the tingling along his forehead and
cheekbones to the electrical charge given off whenever anyone tried to remove
his mask without disarming it. It was lined with a non-conducive polymer, but
the technology wasn't foolproof.
"You're up," Josh said.
"What are you doing?" Elias said. His voice came out a rasp. "I'm on your side.
I'm trying to help."
Josh shrugged. "Hey man. I'm just following orders."
Elias squinted. "Orders?"
And then another voice, powdered with ash, said, "My orders." And a skinny
figure shuffled out of the gloom.
Elias went slack beneath the restraints, heart sick in his throat, suddenly and
keenly aware of the vulnerability of being exposed like a cadaver or an
offering. For a second he faltered in coaxing his laser cutter out from his
wrist compartment, but then redoubled his efforts. If he didn't get out of here
he was screwed, he was so much worse than screwed. He should have called for
backup; he should have told Zac he was sorry. "No... no, you're dead. Nightmare
saw you crushed by a temple in Brazil, you're dead."
The Mortician had made modifications to himself since the photos in Nightmare's
files were taken. His eyes were milky blue now, his hair blond and sparser.
Stitches wound down his yellowed, papery face like vines, twisting his mouth
into a mirthless smile. "Ah," he said, resting a casual, proprietary hand on
Josh's shoulder. "He did see that, but you can't kill what doesn't die. You
though. A new Stalker. Your existence is much more peculiar."
Elias snarled. God, he was such an idiot. Just because the Mortician had always
taken his replacement parts from the freshly killed didn't mean he wouldn't
start leaving his victims alive. After all, he had with Daphne. "Go to hell,
you sick fuck."
The Mortician tsked. "Temper now. Your predecessor also had quite a mouth on
her. Even when I was sawing through the bone, she kept cursing. It was almost
impressive in a way. Most people pass out from the shock, but she was conscious
until the last of it."
Elias' finger could touch the handle of his laser although both were now
slippery with sweat. He had to keep the Mortician talking. Elias was alive as
long as the Mortician was talking. "What are you doing here? What is this
place?"
"Do you like it?" The Mortician waved a gnarled hand - crookedly grafted and
darker than the rest of his body - around expansively. Elias could see where
his black suit had worn out at the elbows and the litany of scars underneath.
"Not much of a lab, but it suits my needs. I've made some fascinating
breakthroughs, some of which resulted in our young friend Joshua here. And of
course the good Headmaster."
The laser kept skittering away and the back of Elias' neck was cramping up.
"Homonuclii."
"Very good," the Mortician said approvingly. "They're not very bright, but they
do what they're told and they don't feel pain. As your ultrahuman friend is
likely finding out right now."
"You made a huge mistake. Beacon will find me. Nightmare will. And when they
do, they are going to kill you."
The Mortician smiled a little, patting Josh on the shoulder. "You're off the
grid, boy. And like I said, not even Nightmare can kill what won't die."
Elias squeezed his eyes shut briefly, trying to orient himself in the dark. He
could taste adrenaline, bitter in the back of his throat. "So Josh is the point
of all this? You're building some sort of army?"
The Mortician chuckled, only sinister in how it was almost a pleasant sound.
"Heavens no. That was simply a convenient side effect. No no, my purpose
remains the same. The endless scientific quest for immortality."
"Through chopping people up and sewing their parts onto you like a freaking
monster," Elias said. He was so stupid. How could he have failed to consider
that the students hadn't been receiving some sort of non-invasive surgery, they
had simply been operated on by a surgeon so skillful he wouldn't leave a trace.
"So all those weird hormone levels in all those kids..."
"Amazing, wasn't it," The Mortician said, like Elias had been commending him.
"An entire school of healthy young specimens, ripe for the plucking. The
perfect population on which to test out my regenerative growth hormones. So
easy to administer too! Three times a day, neat as clock work, and they would
line up to take them."
All of Strong's comments rang in Elias' head. "The cafeteria food."
"Right again," The Mortician said cheerfully.
Elias let his head fall back on the gurney. "And the chemicals in the river..."
The Mortician shrugged. "Run-off. Bit of a media to-do, but what a small
consequence for the results! Organ tissue growing back at an exponential rate!
I can keep my hearts and livers operational four times as long as before."
"A small consequence?" Elias spat. "Three people are dead."
Josh scowled at his tone but the Mortician waved a hand dismissively.
"Imperfections in the formula," he said. "Immaterial, really. The only real
question becomes what to do with you, little Stalker. To be honest, I'm
surprised to see another one of your kind. Although maybe I shouldn't be.
Nightmare and I are so alike. It's fitting that he has his own inexhaustible
supply of bodies."
And god, thank god, finally, he got a firm grip on his laser. "Nightmare is
nothing like you!" Elias said. He wasn't sure whether he was covering up the
click of the on switch or he just believed what he was saying, but either way
it felt good to shout. "He's a great man! A hero You're nothing! You're a
parasite who skulks in the dark, feeding off other people to keep up some lame
excuse for a life! You didn't stop the first Stalker and you won't stop me!"
Josh made a start for him, but the Mortician held him back. His own eyes
narrowed though, his chalky mouth thin. For the first time in their
conversation he stopped looking amused and urbane. "You're a fine one to talk
about lurking in the dark." Deliberately, he reached into his pocket and pulled
out a scalpel, dull with rust. "But I appreciate your flair for discourse.
Beyond profanities, your predecessor wouldn't talk at all. She refused to tell
me what I wanted to know. But you, my young friend. I think you're going to
sing."
"Go to hell," Elias said.
The Mortician twitched a smile as he advanced. "You'll be able to keep me
company there. Once you tell me this one tiny thing. Who is Nightmare?"
Control over the breath led to control over the heart led to control over the
self. Control over the self led to control over the situation. In dangerous
scenarios, Elias told himself, working on the binding as the Mortician
advanced, the first lessons were the most important. Control. Patience. Zac
needed him to be calm now. Zac would smile at him when he saw him again.
"Yes," the Mortician said, a sing-song musing to himself as he bent over, his
free hand tilting Elias' chin up to expose his throat. "You'll talk."
The gurney didn't afford him a lot of momentum, but fear provided most of the
power behind it when Elias punched the Mortician full in the face.
The Mortician was technically immortal but dessicated as a mummy. He went down
easy in a soft slump on the floor. Now that the noise didn't matter, Elias
jammed up the setting of his laser cutter, melting his way through the
restraint on his neck just before Josh lunged at him. He was able to sit up and
get him hard enough to make the homonuclii stagger back.
"The difference between us and you freaks," Elias said, a little drunk off
relief, slicing as fast as he could through the band around his other arm. "Is
we don't stay in the shadows to feed off of people. We protect them. We have to
hide in the dark sometimes, but we live in the world."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Josh said, grabbing for him again.
Elias' hand slipped slightly, the laser deviating from its trajectory, slowing
his progress just enough to give Josh an advantage. Elias went to use the tool
on Josh's face instead, but Josh stumbled back, hissing in pain. A knife was
protruding from his shoulder, the handle black, a simple, stylized ghost
imprinted on it.
Elias looked over to the corner where Nightmare's great caped presence was
sliding out of the dark. "Took you long enough."
But Keith wasn't in a bantering frame of mind. His expression under his cowl
was the intent near-beserker grimace that meant he was somewhere deep in his
own head beyond where Elias could reach. It was time to start worrying. "You,"
he said, stalking towards the Mortician. He picked him up by the collar,
brought him face to face. "You."
The Mortician just looked dazed at first, but then his gaze focused and he
smiled with genuine delight. "Yes, Nightmare. Me."
"You're supposed to be dead," Nightmare growled. "You won't ever hurt them
again."
Elias had freed his legs and slid off the gurney, but he still had to deal with
fucking Josh, who was circling him warily. "Hey Nightmare, come on," he tried
to say soothingly, ducking a blow. "I'm fine. You got here in time. I'm good.
I'm safe."
Just then, the roof exploded.
Elias covered himself against the collapsing rubble with his cape, its titanium
ribs flaring out stiff. When the noise had died down, it took his eyes a second
to adjust to the sudden blazing light, white and clean. Josh hadn't fared as
well, crumpled and still, his legs under a rock. Elias looked up, flicking a
darker covering on the lenses of his mask and saw familiar silhouettes hovering
in the air. "Sterling?" he said, voice echo with disbelief. "Silver?"
The metal of the compound's roof snaked liquid around Silver's fist and fell
leaden to the ground. "Stalker!" she said, flying down. "You're okay!"
"You're here," Elias said. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Keith,
angry according to the clench of his jaw but calmer, handcuffing the Mortician
to another gurney. The explosion had hopefully rattled him back to himself.
"Beacon called in the cavalry," Silver said. She wrapped her arms around him
tight. Dazed, Elias could see the rest of the Commandos flying inside the
crater. "He told us you disappeared and that the creep he was fighting said the
Mortician was back. Oh praise Durma, you're okay!"
"Where's-" Elias said, but Zac was zooming down, Strong dangling unconscious
from his fist. He blazed white and gold like a phoenix, purified by flame and
too bright to be anything but an ideal.
"Stalker!" he said, dropping Strong unceremoniously. He hovered uncertainly as
the rest of the Commandos swarmed around Elias, keeping his distance as they
chattered and hugged. His uniform was torn and dirty, and Strong must have
managed to split Zac's lip. He was the most beautiful thing Elias had ever
seen.
***
The Commandos had evacuated the school and Pythia, shaky but professional when
Elias had checked in with her, had called in a special unit to detain the
Mortician and his homonuclii. By the time Elias staggered topside, everything
was over but the shouting.
"How'd you find me?" Elias asked Nightmare, who was tinkering with the wing of
the jet. Apparently it had gotten damaged during the landing. "The Mortician
switched off my comm link."
Keith smirked out of the side of his mouth. He wasn't quite back to himself
yet, but at least he knew the directions for the way there. "What makes you
think that's the only method I have of keeping track of you."
"Great," Elias muttered, making a note to go over his suit with a microscopic
lens as soon as possible. Hesitantly he added, "You okay? It got kind of
intense in there."
Keith spared him a look, quick and appraising. "You're okay."
Elias would have called him out on avoiding the question, except Keith had
answered it, in a way. "So, I was thinking... if it's all right with you, I
want to switch up my patrol schedule again."
"Wrench," Nightmare said. Elias handed it to him. "Let me guess. You want to
leave your weekends free."
Elias shifted his weight nervously. "Yeah."
Keith pried open the damaged panel. "It was never my idea for you to quit the
Commandos. If you want to go back, you don't need my blessing."
Elias felt himself smiling, kind of drippy. He stopped himself but then a
second later allowed it after all. "Thanks. For the rescue and... everything."
Keith just grunted. "I can make these repairs myself. You don't need to be
hanging around underfoot."
"I'll, uh, just go then," Elias said. When he looked behind him, Keith was
watching him but quickly went back to work.
The tail end of the evacuation was still under way. It was nearly dawn now.
Back at the campus proper, Elias saw Braiden huddled by an ambulance, wrapped
up in a blanket. Elias lifted his hand in a wave, and Braiden stared at him
thoughtfully as one of the paramedics led him away.
He knew when Zac landed behind him by the disturbance in the earth. "Hey," he
said without turning around.
"Hey," Zac said. He flew a half-circle around to face Elias. Zac was still in
his uniform too. He crossed his arms protectively. "You... good?"
"Yeah. Nightmare's fixing the plane."
"So, the Mortician," Zac said. "He's a pretty big bad. You think he was the one
who... you know... freed that guy?"
Elias looked down at the ground. "I really doubt it. He didn't even know I
existed before today. Whoever it is is still out there."
"Oh," Zac said, disappointed. "But you're still - you're okay, right? After
everything."
Was he? Elias wasn't sure he had the capacity for okay. But he wasn't sure he
had the capacity not to try for it either. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks for calling
in the team. They've been handling things well."
"Great," Zac said. "That's just... yeah. They're great."
"They are." Elias tilted his face up into the wind. "You know, talking to the
Mortician... it gave me a lot to think about."
"Oh god," Zac groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don' tell me you're going to harvest
organs now. That's Stockholm Syndrome, Stalker, which is bad."
"I was going to say I want back on the team, asshole," Elias said. And before
Zac could react or Elias himself could lose his nerve, he blurted out, "And
it's Eli."
Zac tilted his head slightly. "What?"
Elias took a breath. "Eli. Eli Gossling. That's my name."
It took Zac a moment for that to sink in, like quicksand was always slow but
inexorable. Inexorable and endless as Zac's own aptitude for faith. He lit up,
a soft blue-tinted glow Elias could feel making him blush. "Eli," Zac said,
savoring it.
Not for the first time Elias wished his uniform had more traditional pockets.
He resisted the urge to draw his cape around himself. "Yeah."
"I don't know," Zac drawled. "Eli. That's kind of a nerd name. Short for
anything?"
Elias scowled. But at the same time he felt oddly looser, like something in his
chest had unsnarled and disintegrated. "Elias. My name is Elias Gossling,
douchebag."
Zac had so acclimated to human limitations that sometimes when he moved with
his true speed it took Elias by surprise. Like now, when Elias was suddenly in
Zac's arms, it left him flailing. "Yeah," Zac said. His eyes were blue, blue,
blue and he glittered like a lake. "Elias Gossling. Nerdy, but I like it. Say,
Elias Gossling, how's about you and me get better acquainted?"
"Okay, just because you know it now doesn't make it any less dangerous to call
me by my name when I'm in uniform-" Elias started, but he had to hold on tight
as Zac took off, flying east towards the gathering light of the sun.
End Notes
     This story was originally published in the September 2008 edition of
     the boy love zine Shousetsu Bang Bang. To see the gorgeous original
     art drawn by calintz that accompanies the piece, please follow the
     link: http://s2b2.livejournal.com/93799.html
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