Page 4 of Fortress
The rest of the day progressed much the same. Jake moved in and out of consciousness, Roger checked the dressings twice just to make sure that the damn wound wasn’t getting infected again, and Tobias never left Jake’s side longer than it took to go to the bathroom or to the Eldorado to get his backpack.
Roger figured Tobias would go for a shower, or change clothes, or start polishing a rifle the way Hawthornes tended to when they didn’t have much to do beside keep vigil at somebody’s sickbed, but the pack remained closed even when Roger went outside to inventory the latest scrap arrival and to give himself a little breathing room.
When he returned to the living room, Tobias was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the backpack half-open beside him, a large textbook spread over the hardwood floor, and a notebook balanced on his knee.
Roger paused in the doorway, curious but mindful of the carefully maintained space between them. Tobias had tensed ever so slightly at his entrance, though he hadn’t raised his head. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if Roger hadn’t been watching for it.
Balls, what a pussyfooting pair they made. Though that didn’t mean he was intruding further in Tobias’s space without good reason.
He squinted at the textbook pages. “That algebra you got there?”
Tobias spread his hand flat over the glossy page, then rubbed out a spot that didn’t exist. He didn’t look up, speaking intently toward the book. “Jake—Jake got it for me, s-so I can l-learn. High school stuff. So, so I know what... It h-helps, too, for hunts and just, every day, so pe-people don’t n-notice as much that I’m... and for Jake—if I know more—”
“That’s a great idea,” Roger cut in. “Particularly if you like numbers and such. Jake could never sit still for it. Kid’s lucky if he can figure a ten percent tip.”
Tobias’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and he peeked up through his bangs, showing barely a glimpse of his eyes. “It’s useful,” he said softly, “but—I do like it.” His gaze dropped again, fingers skimming the page.
Roger had to clear his throat when the silence stretched, not sure if they’d actually stopped talking about something or if the night had moved on without them. “Hey, I’m gonna hit the hay. You staying down here again?”
Tobias nodded down at the book, then looked up. “Do you m-mind if I stay u-up a bit? I’m not...” He gestured slightly toward the book in his lap, though whether that meantin the middle of a chapterornot wearing any pants, Roger would have been hard-pressed to guess cold.
“Nah, that’s no problem. A light on down here won’t bother me upstairs.” He turned to go, but paused. “He’s gonna be okay, you know that, right, Tobias?” Roger hoped the kid didn’t notice the hesitation before his name. “Jake’ll be okay.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, least I could do.” Roger hesitated for another moment and then knocked his knuckles against the door frame, combined courage and anger at himself in the motion. It might have been (but probably wasn’t) his imagination that Tobias jumped. “Goodnight, Tobias.”
Tobias took a deep, careful breath. “Goodnight... Roger.”
That success probably shouldn’t have also felt like a reproach.
Tobias knew that injuries took time to heal. He had enough experience with them to understand that, even though most injuries he got hunting with Jake weren’t that bad, and even thinking about recovering after damage had been an impossible luxury in Freak Camp. But it was different when it was Jake laid out over that couch, some discolored fluid seeping out of his leg and Tobias incapable of helping him any more than he had already.
Probably he would have been more terrified of Hunter Harp—of Roger that first day if he hadn’t been more terrified each time Jake took a slightly more labored breath or groaned from the pain of his wound. But as it was, he simply hadn’t had the time to worry about himself when Jake had been unconscious and unprotected.
Of course there had been difficult moments. When Hunter—when Roger had found him in the bathroom, Tobias thought he might shake enough to pull out the stitches he’d already put inplace. Before he’d found the courage to bring out his books (the precious texts Jake had bought him, which every day gave him more confidence interacting with reals), he’d had to count every reason Jake had given him for why it was okay for him to be studying.
Though Roger had never asked him why he was putting his freak hands all over the pages that were for reals’ education, Tobias found it easier to breathe and focus knowing he had those lines prepared in case he had to recite it, clear and concise as the Director—asJakewould want him to.
It had been okay while Jake was unconscious. But it was better now that Jake had managed to make his way to the upstairs guest room to sleep through a night next to him, now that he was awake most of the time and laughing, trying to get Tobias to hand over the Eldorado’s keys.
“C’mon, Toby. I don’t even feel it.” Jake leaned over to bump their shoulders together. A flash of pain radiated through Tobias’s injured arm, but the contact wasn’t nearly enough to pop the stitches, so he ignored it. He was finally sitting on the couch after Jake had practically dragged him onto it with Roger’s tacit approval, and he was just enjoying the closeness and reassurance that Jake was going to be all right.
“That’s because of the pills, Jake.”
“How do you know? Could be that I’m all better. How’re we gonna know unless—”
“Roger saidno, Jake.”
Jake beamed at him, and Tobias felt a flash of pride under the tension he always had when he argued, even with Jake. He hadn’t even stuttered on Roger’s name that time. “Roger said no,” he repeated, “and he’s got a lot more e-experience than us, and he’s helping take care of us, so I think we o-ought to listen to him.” Tobias pushed Jake’s shoulder—not hard, barely any force to it, but Jake rocked back laughing and clumsily grabbed forTobias’s fingers. “And you should li-listen to me, because you’re on pain m-m-medication and I’m not.”
Okay, he was stuttering more than he had on their recent hunts. But on the whole, he felt none of the clawing fear that had infused every second of their last visit here. They had already been at Roger’s for longer than before, and Tobias hadn’t had even one panic attack. Although he had bumped Jake’s injured leg while recoiling from a nightmare last night and then ended upcryingover Jake’s white-lipped attempt to soothe him through the pain that he had caused, but that could have happened anywhere. Not only in this house with a hunter under the same roof, someone who could hurt Tobias without a single recrimination—butwouldn’t, Tobias had to remember that, and it got easier every time Roger carefully kept his distance when he came into the room. The important thing was that they were still at Roger’s on their third day, and here he was sitting on Roger’s couch and arguing with Jake, knowing that the hunter could hear every word from his desk in the study and somehow not terrified he was about to be beaten for the form of disrespect Jake expected, encouraged, and smiled for.
Maybe someday the possibility wouldn’t even linger in the back of his mind.
“Yeah, what’s up with that,” Jake muttered. “I dunno where you learned that whole stoic Hawthorne, too-hardass-for-Vicodin act, or maybe you picked up a flask on the sly—”
“I didnot,” Tobias protested, though he knew Jake was teasing him.
