The days following Cerberus’ death were ones that Jim was sure he’d never forget. As far as he could see, everyone left the void, everyone but Met and Red. He had not seen them since, and even when he inquired as to their whereabouts, all he could gather from the slight truths and runarounds was that the couple were not together, but everyone knew where they were.
Jim was not concerned with them to be honest. In fact, he found the entire thing none of his business. It became his business however due to the situation that followed. One would assume that they expected their baby to be well cared for by her brothers—in theory at least.
Looking back, Jim wanted to kick himself not only for his own arrogance but also for his naivety. The night he exited the void and could only watch in contempt and amazement as the brothers bungled every attempt at holding, throwing, and feeding the child, he decided to show them a thing or two. In the end, his bragging was what got him into another mess. After getting the girl to sleep, he sat up with a proud smile, “that’s how simple it is, guys.” With his eyes fixated on the snoozing child, he waited for a response then looked around in confusion, “guys?”
Realizing he was alone, Jim wore a frown of contempt and looked up to the ceiling.
“Norman? You can’t just leave her here.”
“Why not?” Norman tried to hold back his laughter, “she likes you. Besides, I can’t look after her. Ask Keiler. He’s the fatherly type.”
After glancing down to the sleeping baby, Jim groaned in defeat and called Keiler who was adamant. “Sorry. I’ve got Matt, remember?”
Jim was at a loss as he considered his remaining options. With a pitiful grimace, he hazarded, “Vlad?”
“Dude?”
The very word caused Jim to sigh, “never mind.”
“They dragged me out man. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging.” Vlad’s voice teemed with confidence, “tell ya what. Let’s see if fate can decide. Just toss her to the wall and if she bounces then she’s yours, and if she sinks in then it was meant to be.”
Jim’s tone was cold, “babies don’t bounce.”
“Really? Whoa.” Vlad seemed to be deep in thought, “on second thought then, it seems fate has decided.” When the coms severed, Vlad was sure to have worn a big smile.
And so Jim found himself with yet another child. For the most part, he saw a great difference in her treatment compared to Nate, or even Matt for that matter. There was little to no interference when it came to Nate. Matt was not much of a problem because he was being cared for by Keiler. But the baby was a different story. Jim was not really sure why he was sought out to be her guardian. In fact, he was surprised at how calm Bastian was about the situation, almost as if he was in favor of it. The brothers did take more interest and care in her than the other two children.
The first day she suddenly disappeared, Jim felt a strong sense of guilt and panic. Each simple ‘don’t worry’ he heard would only serve to annoy him further. She appeared the next morning however, the fact that she was changed and clean could only lead him to assume that either Red or Met had taken her. And so it went on, every day, every morning.
Jim could not even say that he really had to take care of her due to the fact that Nate took it upon himself to keep her safe. At other times she was with Norman or her other brothers. In fact, Jim really could see no reason why she was there. The only difference between him and everyone else at that moment that he could conclude was that he was the most stable, the most routine.
Nate’s comments on the baby’s growth failed to spark anyone’s interest. Even Jim, who was quite accustomed to fast a growing baby, was not concerned. Met was able to at least slow down Nate’s growth rate so if he did nothing to hinder this fast process on his own daughter, it was safe to assume that either he or Red had actually induced the rapid growth. The end result was odd but comfortable.
In the mean time Jim had finally finished his training and found himself working with Nero on jobs that the colony considered ‘small’ while he just considered them ludicrous. The ex-marine wasn’t quite sure if Met’s decision to shut down the system was really necessary. When he thought about the fact that the Heads had posed a viable threat to the man’s family, he could almost understand his way of thinking. However, it was nearly impossible for the colony to run without the system. Campaigns were being made to either find ways to A: take control of the system and effectively get it working again, or B: implement a replacement.
Considering that no one really understood the system, only used it, plan B was in effect and failing miserably. Food became harder to get, medics were harder to route, everything was simply slower. It was anyone’s guess just how vast the colony was, but when the system stopped, they soon had a general idea.
Those who could control the system were either too weak to break Five’s connection, or straight out refused to even make the attempt. No one had ever counted on two low-end citizens such as Red and Met to have such influence. Their impact was not surprising considering that they were at their prime even before some of the Heads were even born.
In the end, people were trying to make due with the fact that the system was no longer in service. Without it, the only available mode of transportation were obsolete vehicles—which made Jim’s job just a bit more interesting.
“Stoppppppp!”
Perhaps a well-lit tunnel would have been more settling—it was anyone’s guess. But at that particular moment, that particular tunnel wasn’t well-lit. It was poorly lit and entailed a small egg-shaped cart that twirled on the ceiling and occasionally the walls. The cart entailed two men, both well-built, both in the same type of uniform and taking great interest in their surroundings. The only difference between the two men, save for the fact that the bulkier of the two was holding onto the cart’s metal frame for dear life, was the fact that the same terrified man’s interest in his surroundings was due in part to his mind wondering on ways he might be smashed against the walls. His overactive imagine was in full swing and he was about to be sick.
Nero’s utter interest in the tunnel was cut short by the sharp gag that was fought back. After he applied the breaks sharply, causing the swift little cart to grind to a halt, he watched in confusion as Jim leaped out to safety.
Jim hunched over and gasped for air, hoping that his new sense of averted danger might fight back his upturned stomach. “You know what,” he managed to sneer as he took several deep breaths, “I’m not getting into that death trap again. EVER!”
“Baldwin…,” Nero’s once accusing tone softened as he tried a different approach, “Sir,” the sternness of the word caused Jim to glance to him sharply as if warning that another misplaced ‘sir’, even if it wasn’t meant to make him feel old, could leave Nero wishing he had a new set of teeth. The young guard decided to take the threatening look seriously but still tried to reason, “if you have a better mode of transport that allows us to stay in contact with central then I would like to see it.” His tone grew coaxing as he tried to show his own point of view, “think of it as a roller coaster ride.” Nero looked at the small cart again, “well without the seat belts.” He studied it further, “or frame, or doors, I mean it would only take one crash and we would most likely lose a limp or--.” At the sight of Jim’s gaping mouth and grim expression of horror, the young guard frowned in defeat, “ok I still need to work on being a people person.
By colony standards, the egg-shaped cart was designed, and in theory, could fit three full-grown men. It seemed that it was originally something dangerous and cool, but with time it simply turned into something dangerous and old.
Nero’s frown grew as he tried not to whine, “please don’t make me call Norman.”
Jim shook his head with a grim frown and Nero hazarded.
“Krite?”
The ex-marine shook his head again sadly and after a long list of names were suggested with little success, the young guard finally closed his eyes and gave in.
There was only one name left that he could think of. “Vlad?”
Both men closed their eyes with a miserable grimace and sure enough, Vlad, not one to hear his own name often, chimed in, “you rang?”
Before Nero was able to speak Jim took the initiative, “yeah we need to get to level D in the clusters,” he added to his request quickly before it could have the chance to backfire, “by the slowest means possible, please.”
Vlad gave it some genuine thought, “Grandpa or speedy Gonzalez?”
Anticipating Nero’s desires to answer, Jim was sure to be first once again, “Grandpa.”
“Ok walked into the wall.”
Nero and Jim traded glances suspiciously and the young guard hazarded, “you sure?”
“Yuppers. I’m not in a happy, happy, joy, joy mood this morning so just step on in. I promise not to pull your appendix out in the trip.”
Leaving the small vehicle in the center of the ‘road’, Jim and Nero walked to the tunnel wall. They both looked at each other and said a silent prayer as they pushed their hands against the rough surface and were slowly pulled through the wall. They came out in a tunnel that was almost identical. The only difference being that there was no cart, and the tunnel wall directly before them bore the markings ‘cluster D’.
Seeing no signs of danger, Nero took the lead, “ok, we’re looking for twins. This is so not fun.”
“I thought you did this stuff all the time.”
“Yeah, well with twins it’s worse.” Nero’s eyes searched the walls—they both were almost lurking, “these happen to be linked. One talks and one answers. They see themselves as one person.” He shrugged in all honesty, “and they are.”
Jim was slow in his stride as he followed along behind him, “are they E’s?”
“No. E’s are empaths or elemetals, pretty much anyone who can control or manipulate energy etc. This is just one kid with two bodies.” Nero looked back at him, “gross, huh?”
Still quite calm, though watchful, Jim took the time to survey his surroundings, “yup.”
“I mean, sure it seems ok. But the fact that he has two bodies is just gross. It’s like having two heads on one body.” He began to put on a pair of black gloves and Jim followed suit, “but now he shares the same brain. Nasty.” The young guard rose from his creeping stance and shuddered, “think of the possibilities--.”
“Stop already.” Jim’s voice was filled with shear honesty, “you’re really starting to creep me out.” He made the mistake of standing up completely and upon doing so saw the flicker in a darker area of the tunnel.
“This is a dangerous job.” Nero managed to keep his voice down, “you just graduated, we shouldn’t even be here.”
Jim never took his eyes off the light, “then why are we?”
“Oh I can tell you why.” Nero’s anger surfaced, “cuz those assholes up there sent us because of your husband and my . . .” He paused, “what the hell are we? Mates? Sounds so primitive.” He wrinkled his brow as he considered it, “not lovers cuz--.”
“I. DON’T. WANT. TO. KNOW.”
Nero realized he was babbling, “oh sorry. Right, back to work.”
They quieted when they heard the pitter patter of little feet. It was darker in that area of the tunnel and Jim tried to focus as much as he could. After a short while, he was able to see a little face peering at him from the far corner of the ceiling. The face watched him calmly then smiled. It was a smile that was unsettling, it was accompanied by the sound of running feet, and without thinking, Jim reached out quickly and caught something by the neck before it could reach him. It was another boy, identical to the first.
Nero was quite impressed and would have commented had it not been for the fact that he was lunged at by the observing boy that remained. He too caught the child by the throat and held him out, all the while managing to avoid the boy’s actual claws.
The young guard and ex-marine’s gloves glistened as they made their way back to the well-lit area while holding the twins out, carrying them by their throats.
“You know,” Nero was in thought, “this reminds me of Barbarella.”
“How?”
“Well, remember when those cute little twins were mucking about. Then those dolls with teeth.” Nero shuddered, “needless to say. I can no longer tolerate dolls.”
“Chico,” Jim shook his head in awe while eyeing him, “you’ve got problems.”
“Tell me about it. But you know the worst thing? They aren’t even cute.”
They both looked sideways at the struggling boys in their hands.
Jim confessed, “you’ve got a point.”
“Yup, face only a mother could love. Or stand.”
“So what now? Do we just walk in with them or do we,” Jim remembered something, “oh I know.”
“Right.” Nero shrugged, “we were supposed to shut them down. We don’t have time. I say those bastards can do it. Let’s go back to the cart.”
“WHAT?” He was regarded in betrayal, “why?”
When they had finally paused in their stride, they were standing in the center of the road.
“Because if they see that we can do the job quickly, we’ll get worse ones.” Nero turned to him, “and trust me, this is easy compared to some of the crap we get down here.”
Though Jim was reluctant, he finally agreed to return to the cart. Vlad was kind and allowed them to go through without problems, and even put the twins to sleep on the way. Since they were children they weren’t any trouble for him, even just to be around them seemed alright. He even gave Jim and Nero a small pen-shaped device.
“This, you can use to shut them down.” Vlad held the device up to the light, “it’s not powerful enough for a full grown E but for regular people and half breeds or whatever, pretty much anyone else, it can take out.” He handed them two sets and he was about to leave but remembered something. “Oh and dudes?”
Nero and Jim looked up from the cart in pure innocence and Vlad chuckled as he walked into the wall.
“Don’t like, shock yourselves or anything. That would be so uncool. Not to mention lame.”
There was one advantage to the system being inoperative; those who were somehow able to travel without the assistance of the system were in high demand. All that considered, Bastian wasn’t feeling the ill affects quite as adversely as others. Granted, his jobs were limited, but they paid well too. The only real downside that he could think of was the fact that with him being so valuable to the colony, he was barely ever home.
In the end, he excused his absence by telling himself that being at home wasn’t really making a big difference on him at any rate. Nate was usually busy in some way. Whenever Nate wasn’t fighting with Matt, which was almost every minute that they were in each other’s presence, he was with Gav. Norman and his brothers seemed to be working overtime just to keep the colony in one piece. Bastian wasn’t at all surprised to find the baby left at his house. With the total shutdown of the system, he knew Met’s family would have to take over in defending the colony from outside attacks. There was literally no one who could keep an eye on the child while doing their job fully. The calmest person to keep her from knowing that something was wrong was in fact Jim.
Jim—that was another story altogether. Bastian was still somewhat uneasy in his new found relationship. It had calmed, it was much steadier compared to the beginning. He sometimes thought about it when he wasn’t busy so he made it a point of duty to keep as busy as possible. It wasn’t that it was bad. On the contrary, he could barely remember his love-life being so satisfying. To be honest, the thing that bothered him the most was the silence. Silence before, during, and after they were intimate. That silence made their situation seem like some shameful secret--something that they both thought that ignoring would make better.
He wasn’t ashamed at least; he’d made his peace with his feelings and situation some time ago. With that in mind, he was tired of the second guessing and uncertainty. He just wanted them to be normal—as normal as one could be in the colony. All those thoughts were constantly racing through his mind so whenever there was an assignment available, no matter how dangerous, he’d jump at the chance to take it.
When all was said and done, he couldn’t say he was not happy—he was. And if not for his own insecurities, he wouldn’t even run from the situation as much. He couldn’t really complain. When he took a hug, one was given back—and not just a polite one, it was usually quite sweet if not sensual. If he stole a kiss, it made his husband laugh. Even when they were laying on the couch, something that had become less frequent lately, if he slipped his hand into Jim’s trousers and took the time to trace the firm ass, he was given no protest. So what was the problem? On the surface, it all seemed fine.
On the surface just wasn’t good enough anymore.
“Boss?”
Finally looking up from the circular device that embedded itself into the ground upon release, Bastian regarded Harris in surprise. “Yeah. Sorry. What is it?”
Harris’ brow narrowed in concern, “you ok?” he tried to lighten the air with a smile, “ever since you turned high elete and took lead, you seem more flaky.”
The make-shift soldier couldn’t help but chuckle, “you do know that since I’m your boss now,” he pressed several buttons on the top of the device then stood, “you can’t pick on me anymore.”
As they both stood fully, Harris reached into his jacket, one that was very much like Bastian’s, and retrieved two guns.
“Boss or not,” he looked both guns over then held them out as they charged, “you’re still kinda flaky.”
While chuckling softly, Bastian nodded then looked the tunnel over, “at least our crew isn’t totally dissolved.” They both turned and watched the path in front of them—they were waiting, “what do you think of the system being down?”
Harris shrugged as he took a soldier’s stance, “I could really care less.” His arms dangled at his side, “so long as I can do my job, it could be an assignment in hell for all I care.”
With that, Bastian glanced to him and saw someone he’d never seen before. Everyone knew Harris to be short-tempered, homophobic, violent and dedicated. His loyalty was one of his best qualities, the fact that he was always on time and took any and all assignments handed to him was one of the reasons he instantly gained everyone’s respect. At his comment however, when Bastian looked at him that time, he couldn’t say he recognized the person standing beside him—he wasn’t as simple to figure out as he thought.
Not one to care about anything other than what was happening in the very moment, Harris took no note of his colleague’s eyes studying him. He only watched the tunnel’s path before them and nearly smirked when he saw several figures emerge in the distance.
It’s about time. He thought with a smile.
Bastian felt more at ease with knowing that they could do something—he was starting to think again.
When he was reaching for his own weapons, he lowered his arm in confusion while watching a band on his wrists that was flashing.
“Didn’t central say we were too low on the totem pole to get communiqués?”
Harris’ eyes gravitated to the ceiling as he was in mock thought, “the low-life crew totem pole?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah.” Harris set his sights on the figures emerging in the distance once more—his tone of mock seriousness, “I faintly remember something like that.” He glanced to Bastian’s wrist with a smile, “better answer it though.”
Bastian brought his wrist to his lips and spoke sternly, “yeah?”
An answer didn’t come at first, a sure sign that someone hesitated, then a soft, almost uncertain voice, “h-hey.”
Mixed feelings of joy and annoyance raced through the makeshift soldier’s body as he heard Jim’s voice. He caught sight of Harris’ confused expression and couldn’t stop himself from seeming stern either.
“How’d you get on this channel?”
At first silent, Jim was honestly expecting a warmer response to his efforts, he answered slowly, “I-I kinda called in some favors. Besides--.” He began to worry when he heard the shots fired, “you alright?!”
The sound of Jim’s panicked voice caused Bastian to sigh, “yeah. You worry too much.” Harris had already began returning fire, all the while never leaving his wide-legged stance and Bastian followed suit, “since you went out of your way to get me, what can I do for you?”
Jim’s hesitation that time took so long that one could even assume that the transmission was severed. When the voice erupted from the wrist band again, it seemed sterner. “I figured you might want to come home.” Getting no answer, mostly due to Bastian’s current distractions, Jim, quite unaware of those said distractions, fished for a reaction of some sort, “I have a surprise for you.”
Bastian’s appall was clear as he continued to shoot, doesn’t he realize I’m in the middle of a war right now? “Right now is kinda bad for me. Listen--.”
“I promise it’ll be worth it.” Jim swallowed hard then exhaled, “we haven’t sixty-nined in awhile. It’s all I can think about. Besides--.”
Face reddened with shame, Bastian was quick to interrupt, “Jim, this is not the--.”
“We’ve got the house free--.”
“Block transmission.” At the severed com, Bastian fired on the final target in the distance and was frozen in that stance.
He was expecting—hoping—to hear Harris say something. The silence however, was unsettling and was only broken by the sound of the human weapon known as Harris, reaching down to tap the perimeter of his own circular device.
Harris was easily respected, but to ever earn that respect from him was unheard of. At that instant, Bastian felt two inches tall.
When he saw that his own device was going to be released then pulled from the ground for him, he stooped down.
“I’ll get it.”
His hand brushing against Harris’ caused the human weapon to stand up and step back. “Yeah. You get it.”
Bastian was slower in his pace as he yanked the device up then stood. He watched the ground for some time, unable to make eye contact, then exhaled, “listen--.”
“Man,” Harris’ smile was forced, “I don’t give a shit about your personal life. Don’t insult me by thinking that I do.” When his eyes finally met Bastian, he hoped that his expression could be read as impersonal, and it was, “all I care about is doing my job.” He regretted ever seeing Bastian’s face at a time like that, the expression was so woeful, “this is colony. My section’s a long way off. I know about colony. I don’t give a shit about what you do.” He returned his guns to his jacket and turned to walk away, “what I care about is when you bring your personal shit on the job.” He walked on with a hint of annoyance, “that was the last one. We’ll break off till central calls again.”
That was the last thing he said before disappearing down the tunnel as it curved. Bastian watched the path for some time before sitting on the ground with his forehead touching his knees.
It took sometime before he could stand once more and gather his things. It took even longer, after staring at the wall for what seemed like hours, before he could walk through it. He was hoping to be calm by the time he exited into his kitchen but the look he saw from his colleague was still fresh in his mind and it caused his blood to boil once more.
He knows. Bastian sat at the dining room table with a miserable frown, Harris knows.
Of course Harris knew. In the colony, that type of relationship was not only common, it was expected. Hell, considering where they lived, the fact that Harris had made his own lack of interest in men clear was considered queer. Harris was the oddball. Harris was the nut. And Harris knew, now Harris would know and realize that he didn’t have someone who could relate, he was alone.
I should have acted like nothing happened. Like it didn’t matter. Bastian stared at the table with a frown, it doesn’t matter.
Yes it did. It mattered greatly and Bastian could barely contain his anger as he stood to search for the source. His search actually ended close to where it began, in the living room. That was Jim’s common refuge after failing at something.
When Bastian sat on the coffee table, his presence, though he was not focused on, was acknowledged.
Jim was lying on the couch, his tone was gruff, “I’m sorry.” He continued to stare at the ground without making any movement, “I shouldn’t have bothered you at work--.”
“Shouldn’t have bothered me at work?” Bastian gritted his teeth to keep from yelling, “where the hell do you get off calling me while I’m on an assignment?”
“I didn’t know you were on an assignment.” Jim turned over until his back was to his husband, “I’m sorry--.”
“You don’t get to say sorry.” Bastian’s gruff tone received no challenges, just silence, “you don’t get to just do whatever you want then say sorry.”
At the lack of response that time, he relaxed in defeat then looked to his right and a diskette caught his eye. He picked it up then stood slowly in shock. His readied protest died away when he scrolled through the data with care. When he was finally finished, he regarded Jim in doubt and caution.
His tone was calm and tender, “is Nate sick?”
Jim was unresponsive at first but answered eventually, “no.” His own suspicion was clear, “why?”
Bastian watched his husband closely, careful to take the reaction in full, “then why do we have such a huge bill for the medical section?” The silence that time caused him to frown, “Jim?” As realization struck, his frown deepened, “are ‘you’ ok?”
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