Page 25 of Fire
“Moron, no it’s not,” Roger said, with exasperation and relief. He relaxed his guard and extended his hand. He wasn’t sure if Tobias would take it, but after a moment, Tobias reached up and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“Don’t worry about the alarm. Just a car turning around. Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“Wasn’t sure it was you,” Tobias muttered. “Voices sometimes lie.”
Roger sighed. “Yeah, I suppose they do. You need to silver me, kid?”
Tobias shook his head, mouth quirking. “If you’re a shifter, I’m probably a-already in trouble.” Then he ducked his head to his shoulder to cough, which continued all the way to his room.
Roger stopped at the threshold as Tobias stumbled in and sat on the edge of his bed, gulping a drink from his bedside table before hunching over, elbows on his knees.
Roger hesitated, not sure if he should just skedaddle to let Tobias rest, or if there was something he could still do to help. Tobias glanced up. “I—I hope Jake will be okay.” The words were quiet. Roger figured that was as close as Tobias would come to admitting he missed him.
“He’s got more brains than he used to,” Roger told him. “After all the knuckleheaded, asinine things I’ve seen him bully through, wisecracking the whole time—don’t worry about it. He’s got more reason to be careful now. He’ll come back.”
Tobias nodded, and Roger closed the door. As he climbed the stairs back to his bed, he briefly considered calling Jake. It was possible that beyond getting Toby to eat and stopping Toby from doing household chores while sick as a dog, Roger should have gotten advice on what to do when Tobias was at the crawling-into-closets stage.
Not yet, he decided. Roger didn’t need to distract Jake on a hunt, not while Tobias clearly was unafraid of him and didn’t object to being removed from the closets. They were still getting by.
* * *
Roger’sfirst clue that Tobias was taking a turn for the worse came when he didn’t appear for breakfast on the third day. After knocking on his door, Roger heard prolonged coughing, and there was another long pause before the door cracked open. Tobias’s haggard face appeared, half-hidden in the dark of the room, one arm in a baggy sleeve half obscuring his face.
“Could you—” He turned to cough into his elbow. “Just leave—the food out after you’re done, I’ll get it then. I should probably—stay quarantined.”
Roger frowned at him. “If you’re feeling worse, you’d better move out to the sofa. I’ll bring you something on the TV tray. From there I’ll be able to see if you start ringing death’s doorbell and we need to haul ass for a hospital.”
Tobias shook his head. Even in the bad light, he looked extremely pale. “Can’t go,” he rasped. “Jake has my papers.”
Roger absorbed that for a minute. “Well. Come on out into the living room anyway.”
Tobias took up reluctant residence on the sofa, huddling under his quilt. He ate and drank what Roger brought him, thanked him (Roger assumed it was thanks; it came out somewhat garbled, on account of Tobias keeping his mouth under the blanket the whole time), and then slept fitfully for the rest of the morning.
Just after a lunch Roger didn’t bother waking him for (he figured the chicken noodle soup could wait, as the kid was actually sleeping soundly for once), Tobias bolted upright on the sofa, startling Roger in his office where he was crunching some numbers on income versus the price of bullets.
Tobias’s eyes were wide, staring straight ahead. “I made a mistake.” He spoke clearly, though not loudly. Roger couldn’t be sure Tobias meant him to hear or respond. He was about to get up, offer soup, maybe ask the kid about the mistake, when Tobias threw the blankets back and scrambled off the sofa to dash toward his guest room, shouting, “I have to go!”
“What—” Bewildered, Roger got to his feet and followed Tobias to his room, then nearly ran into him as he reappeared, hurtling toward him.
“Roger, I made a mistake.” Tobias’s cheeks flushed feverishly while his whole body radiated tense, urgent dismay. “I—I miscalculated, but it may not be too late. I have to go. Please, can I please borrow a car?” He started coughing, and kept it just in his sleeve, the other arm wrapped around a hastily-packed bag.
“Whoa.” Roger lifted both hands, palms out. He moved so that if Tobias tried for the door without an explanation, Roger would be able to snag him before he made it to the yard (and wouldn’tthatbe fun for both of them). “Slow down for a second, kid, and tell me what’s going on.”
“I messed up,” Tobias said, anguish barely held in check behind his tight words and tense shoulders. “This whole situation, everything. I made a promise, a deal, and I need to go to Jake. Roger, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do this, I swear.” His voice cracked.
“Tobias.” Roger barely stopped himself from grabbing the kid’s shoulders. “Tobias, I need you to sit down, breathe, and tell me what this is about. I’ll help however I can, but I need to make sense of it.”
Tobias half sat, half collapsed onto the sofa, hunching forward with anxious misery. He looked ready to bolt. Roger took the armchair next to the sofa, sitting forward himself, wondering if he’d still be able to catch Tobias if he made a break for it. Kid might be sick as a dog, but he was also damn fast.
Tobias spoke flatly. “I just now realized—I was wrong, I don’t think Jake is s-safer without me. I thought he was, I swear. Better off without me w-when I’m im-impaired. But we’ve been hunting for almost two years, and now he doesn’t have backup. If he dies, that’ll be my fault, same as if I didn’t stop the freak in time. That’s why I’ve got to go.”
Roger was still trying to process that when Tobias drew in a shaky breath and looked up at him. “I can function like this, Roger. I can. I’m not that sick.” He turned to cough into his arm once, hard, and then visibly stopped and drew himself up straight. Roger wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or impressed. “Even me sick is better than him being alone right now. I made a promise, andI have to keep him alive.” Tobias’s hands were shaking, even as he clenched them together. “I swore I wouldn’t be a liability or make him weaker, and I thought—” His posture collapsed as he dropped his forehead into his hands, digging his fingers into his hair. “I couldn’t be with him when I was sick, but now, if something takes him down or just hurts him bad enough he can’t drive or get to a hospital—that’smy fault.”
Roger drew a slow breath. What a bloody minefield. “Hey, Tobias. Tobias.” He waited until Tobias lifted his head, revealing his overbright eyes. “The biggest danger to Jake at the moment is that you’re about to give yourself a stroke. He might not survive getting that news. I hear what you’re saying, and it makes a sort of sense, but you’re selling him way short. Okay? I’ve tracked his hunting skills since before his voice cracked, and I know his blind spots. You two’ve been hunting together for a couple years now, but that doesn’t mean Jake’s clean forgotten how to survive going solo. Before you go off half-cocked and three-fourths dead and get both of you killed, you should give him a call. Yeah, maybe he needs to be reminded to watch his damn fool back, but he’s not going to be able to keep his head in the game worrying aboutyoueither. And whether or not you think he should, Jake will worry about you. So don’t be a total idjit about it.”
Tobias absorbed that, looking shaken, but also like he was thinking clearer for the first time in the last several panic-stricken minutes.
“I mean it,” Roger said. “Go on, call him now. And if you still think he’s in danger, I’ll drive you myself.” He’d do it, too, because with Tobias coughing up his lungs and Jake frantic about Tobias, someone would have to watch their backs, and Roger didn’t exactly know of any other volunteers.
