I don’t have time to freak out about where we are or think about the reasons that this is terrifying. All I can focus on is the soft, loving touches of the man who’d swore he’d rather die than touch me. The same man who’d done everything he could to hurt me so that he could stay in control of the situation we were stuck in.
The man who’d died and took a part of me with him.
I’m sorry.
He doesn’t react to my words, his hands firm as he uses his own towel to get me dry. He waits until he’s sure I’m steady on my feet and able to dress in the clean clothes he’d grabbed out for me before he dries himself off as well.
Don’t. I don’t want or need your apologies. This is what it is, and we’ll get past it.
I swallow roughly and nod my head, ducking it so I don’t have to see whatever sympathy, or apathy, is on his face right now.
How can I never get a good read on him?
Why do I always guess his actions and motives wrong?
We’re going back to the tent, and we’re working together for the morning. You can look over the notes North has been taking about what things his bond reacts to and see if your bond recognizes anything. If you’re feeling better later, you can go watch Gabe skip around the perimeter or help Bassinger prove himself to the personnel.
I shoot him a look for the Atlas dig, but I’m also deeply grateful that he’s planned my day out to keep me both productive and away from prying eyes. We’re supposed to be here to fix everything, to sway the fight in our favor, and here I am on day one losing my freaking shit.
I need to get it together, and I need to do it fast.
When he grabs our dirty laundry pile and shoves it into a bag, I finally get my head together enough to reach out for him. He slips the bag over his shoulder and steps into my arms, letting me lean against the firm wall of his chest and just… center myself.
My bond coils in my chest happily like a snake sunning itself on a rock.
I want to apologize to him again, to sweep all of this under the rug as though it’s nothing but a stupid overreaction, but he’s been inside my head in a way that not even Gryphon could manage. He’s lived every experience of my life the way I have his. There’s no way that I can deny the toll that those years in the Resistance camp took on me, the invisible fracture lines that will never truly heal that I do my best to cover up.
I never put my damage on display, certainly not where my Bonded can see it, and it should feel like a violation all on its own that he knew what was wrong with me this morning without asking. Instead, I feel relief.
Relief that I’m not carrying this by myself anymore.
We walk back to our tent together, hand in hand, and I enjoy the feel of the sun on my face even with the chill of the early morning. I take a minute to get everything in the tent tidied up a bit, only really picking up after myself and Gabe. He’s the only one of my Bonded who is messy. Then I settle myself into Nox’s workspace and go through the notes with him.
My bond refuses to cooperate, so I’m stuck trying to decipher my own feelings about ancient deaths. I’m attempting to figure out if I feel sad because I remember something or just because a void-eyed Gifted being beheaded merely for existing during the witch hunts is fucking terrible.
It’s not exactly easy work.
I’m starving by the time it hits midday, and I decide to take a break to grab food. Nox barely registers me leaving, simply snapping his fingers at the shadow creatures to be sure that one of them follows after me for protection. Mephis takes the job, eager for an ear scratch and loves, and we make our way out towards the small supplies tent that has everyone's daily rations in it.
As we walk together, I start working out which packs to grab for each of my Bonded. I’ll ferry them around to each of them to be sure they all eat too. There’s a lot of choices, and each of them has very different preferences.
North and Gryphon both went without food all day yesterday, the two of them inhaling their sandwiches as they climbed into their sleeping bags last night. I’m determined that I won’t let that happen again. Gabe will be hard to find without interrupting his work, but with Mephis and Azrael with me, I’m not afraid of a little running around.
I don't make it to the supplies tent.
I’m still on the other side of the camp when the shouting starts around me, personnel calling out to sound the alarm, and I immediately reach out to my Bonded.
Gryphon is the first to answer me. I’m barely letting my walls come down before he’s pushing orders to me.
Get back to our tent. Find Nox and Atlas. Stay with the two of them until we know what's happening.
I don't question him or his orders, turning on my heel and sprinting back to our tent with the pups at my heels as dozens of Tac operatives start moving around me.
Nox is waiting at the opening of the tent for me, his eyes black as the shadow creatures all start to fan out around us. Procel is sitting at his feet, and he greets me with little more than a sniff as I duck past him into the tent.
Atlas is waiting there for me as well. He beat me back here, and he’s bouncing on his heels as though he's trying to convince himself not to head back out there to find out what’s happened. But he relaxes somewhat when he sees me.
“Could you see anything? Do you know what the alarm was for?”
I shake my head and step in closer to him, giving him a quick squeeze before I drop down next to my pack. I begin to strap the last of my weapons on myself, intent on being ready when the call comes through, and Nox is doing the same.
I always have the guns at my hips strapped on me from the moment I wake up in the morning until I'm going to sleep at night. However, today I held off being fully armed when we made it back from the showers. I thought we wouldn’t need it until we were planning on going out for the mission.
I guess I'll have to change that habit.
I murmur to Atlas, conscious of keeping myself on alert for whatever could be happening outside of the tent right now. “I couldn't see anything. I just heard the shouting, and Gryphon told me straight away to come back here. Did you hear anything?”
He shakes his head. “I’d just finished helping stock the medical tent, and I was on my way back here to arm myself before heading out to Gabe. Gryphon sent him to check the perimeter because they knew something was up. Nox was in here working when I got back.”
I glance back to Nox, but his eyes are still black as he uses his shadow creatures’ eyes to see what’s going on around us. I straighten, throwing my jacket on over top of the knives and extra ammunition I now have strapped to myself. I wiggle my feet in my boots, just to be sure they're on tight enough. There's nothing quite as terrible as trying to run with your shoes slipping off, and I'd haphazardly thrown them on to grab food without really thinking it through.
Nox's head ducks back into the tent, his eyes still voids, but he speaks with his own voice and not the monotone, dark sound of his bond. “We’re going to move to the perimeter line. Gabe’s found something we need to see.”
I nod and grab Atlas’ hand as we follow him out, motioning for Azrael to follow us as we make headway through the camp. There’s TacTeam personnel everywhere, a lot of them moving back towards their own tents, but the shouting has stopped.