Page 14 of Vanish Into Light

Lance’s lungs burned. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t speak. His heart tripped and lurched in his chest.

Becket smiled again, and said, “If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that Rose’s penchant for violence is what attracted you in the first place. Stop trying to make her into something she isn’t.”

Then he leaned in and swiped the tip of his tongue over Lance’s mouth.

Black crowded in at the edges of Lance’s vision. His lungs felt like they’d burst.

As quickly as he’d struck, Becket retreated – fully. He let go of Lance’s shirt, retracted his tail, turned, and walked out of the room, folded wings trailing behind.

Lance was on the verge of blacking out from lack of oxygen before he finally sucked in a ragged breath; he leaned forward and braced his hands on the table.

And breathed, and breathed, and breathed.

~*~

When she left the mess, Rose went straight to Captain Bedlam’s office to apologize for her behavior earlier.

“Whatever disciplinary action you think is best–”

Bedlam waved her to silence, her expression weary. “You’re one of my best, and times are – times are fucked up. I’m not going to punish you.” She tilted her head, gaze assessing. “But I want you to be honest with me, because you know him better than anyone here – maybe better than anyone ever has. Is Becket a liability?”

“If you want me to be honest – then, I don’t know. But I think his advantages here, in this fight, can’t be taken lightly.”

“No,” Bedlam said, grimly. “They can’t.”

Thusly dismissed, she retreated to her quarters, curled up on the narrow bunk, and sought sleep, exhaustion dragging at her.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

Alone in the dark, Beck haunted her thoughts.

But it wasn’t him she wanted to latch onto.

The inconsistently left her head pounding, and her eyes burning.

She left her room, emerging into a hall lit at half-power for the night, the sconces a cool blue. She could hear rain pattering, somewhere – falling in through a hole in the ceiling that shouldn’t have been there. The soles of her flip-flops slapped quietly against the tile.

Overhead, thunder rumbled, and she wondered where Beck was, if he was up on the roof again, out in the storm.

She hesitated when she reached Lance’s door, but didn’t knock. After a moment, she tested the latch, found it unlocked, and slipped inside.

It was pitch black, without even the glow of the night lights they had back at home base. But she could hear him breathing. The sheets rustled.

“Rose?” He sounded alert, as if he hadn’t been sleeping either.

She found his hand in the dark, and he pulled her down to the bunk with him, wrapped her up immediately, against the warm, solid heat of his bare chest. Tucked his chin over his head. Rubbed her back in long, soothing sweeps.

She didn’t realize she was crying until he murmured, “Shh, I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

She sucked in a breath, embarrassed to hear herself sniffling. She pressed her face tight to his collarbone, the texture and scent of his skin more familiar to her now than her memories of Beck’s. It was wrong, everything was wrong.

“I don’t – I don’t know why I’m doing this,” she whispered, and hated the fear and shakiness of her voice. This wasn’t her. She didn’t cry – not usually. She certainly shouldn’t be crying now, now that Beck was back, and she had everything she’d worked so hard for over the past five long years.

Lance’s steady breath stirred her hair. His heart thumped even and slow beneath her hand. “I think,” he said, slowly, “that I was wrong before. When I said that he wasn’t the same. I think maybe…maybe you’re different, now.”

“But I don’t want to be.”

“Five years would change anyone, baby. It isn’t weakness, and it isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

---