Page 70 of Vanish Into Light

But he was a different version of himself, now.

He reached out and curled his hand gently but firmly around her upper arm. When she tried to yank free, he knew it wasn’t an insult, but an instinct. She didn’t want anything to distract her from her worry; didn’t want to let herself forget for a second that Beck was in trouble, that Beck needed her.

Before Beck’s return, he would have released her, but Lance held on, this time, grip sure when her head whipped around and she glared at him.

“No,” Lance said, softly. And nothing else, because he was exhausted, suddenly, of being pushed away, and left out, and she knew better at this point. She damn well knew better, after everything.

A beat passed. Another. And then she deflated. She blinked, and her eyes were shiny, and she didn’t resist when he tugged her chair closer and gathered her up against his side; she laid her head down on his shoulder and shook silently for a few minutes, before she finally let out a deep breath and settled.

She managed to reach forward without shifting too much and picked up one of Beck’s limp hands where it rested on the table; she pulled it into her lap, cradled in her palm.

And then – Lance’s stomach giving a flip – reached for his hand, and laid it on top of Beck’s, so they made a little pile, the three of them.

Lance turned his face into her hair and breathed – just breathed.

He must have dozed off, because suddenly his eyes were opening as Rose stirred at his side – and Beck stirred on the table.

Rose lurched forward, and Lance wasn’t far behind.

Beck was sitting up, spine curled protectively, his whole torso undoubtedly aching. He winced, teeth bared, and reached to pluck at one of his bandages.

“Whoa!” Lance jolted to his feet and got a grip on his near shoulder, alarmed by how much of his weight Beck let him take, straight away. He really felt like shit, still. “Let’s leave those on, yeah?”

“They’re closed,” Beck gritted out through his teeth, and proceeded to carefully peel the medical tape back with the tips of his claws. The skin beneath was pink and angry, but no longer the open wounds they’d been just a few hours ago.

“Shit,” Lance breathed.

“Here, let me.” Rose reached with hands that trembled only a little to remove the rest of the dressings. She moved slow and careful, fingertips ghosting against his skin with the greatest gentleness, but Lance watched Beck’s face flicker once, twice, with suppressed pain.

He could heal, clearly, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t felt each bullet punch through him. The quick knitting of skin had to hurt, too, Lance thought with a sick lurch.

Beck released a long, slow breath that left him shivering with effort. His wings were mantled up high and tight against his back. “I want a shower,” he said to the air above Rose’s head, as she peeled off the last of the dressings.

Rose pulled back, and her gaze flicked to Lance, worried, questioning. “You don’t want to wait a while longer?”

“No.”

Lance said, “I’ll carry you.”

Beck turned his head a fraction, and regarded him through a screen of sweat-damp hair, then nodded, and looked away again. It was such an un-Beck-like glance, without any sharpness, or heat, or underlying intention that it left Lance’s chest twisting unpleasantly.

He stepped up to the table, braced himself, and slid an arm under Beck’s crooked knees, and the other behind his back, under his wings.

Those wings – and his tail – made him heavier than he looked. He weighed twice what a man his build should have, but Lance was ready this time, was braced and centered, and at least Beck was able to keep his wings from dragging along lifelessly like before.

Rose led the way down the hall and up the stairs.

Beck let his head rest against Lance’s shoulder, shifting restlessly until he managed to press his face to muscle. “You’re very strong,” he murmured, and it didn’t sound suggestive at all; a simple statement of fact, one that left Lance off-kilter in an unexpected way.

Sly Beck he’d learned how to handle. Honest, and vulnerable still left him reeling.

“You’re very heavy,” he shot back, after too long of a pause.

Beck hummed. “Sin weighs a lot.”

Lance’s stomach gave another roll.

His arms were burning by the time they reached the bathroom, but he kept holding Beck, as Rose leaned into the shower and cranked on the water, testing out the temperature with her hand as she stood back from the spray.

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