The following day I awake to the bed empty. While it shouldn't surprise me that he was still struggling to sleep, I find it disturbing that I don't know how to help him. Shifts? Arranging a watch? We're crammed into this house as tightly as we can manage and yet he still felt as though we couldn't be protected.
In the distance, I hear Lotta, on the news, speaking about our case and Verando's murder trial. I wished they'd just turn it off, even if we are continually assured that we were safe in the US and that our friends here had no interest in turning us over, Senator Campbell hadn't been silent on his feelings about it.
More and more people came forward, even on our own side, about the intimidation that my husband put upon them. No bodies had been recovered, but dark figures alluded to their locations and I could practically taste the hidden wraiths on the back of my tongue. Despite Caspian saying he was on our side, his dirty work continued to service his cause even without him being active.
Leaving the boys in bed, I dress light and make my way down the hall. Jan, Tyler's mother, busys herself with keeping the house in some form or order, reminding me of my husband. I'm surprised he's not in here helping her, though I suspect his mind if otherwise occupied. Glancing down at the scatter of magazines and books, I offer a friendly smile and she reluctantly nods.
Unspoken, I start gathering the books. "You know I don't know how two men can lay together. Not in the sense of a man and woman." Of course, she couldn't keep her opinion to herself.
I sigh heavily, tapping the magazines in order to place them on the side table before sliding to my knees to begin gathering the toys. "I'm really trying to be polite. Is it truly so much to ask the same of you?"
Pulling her lips into a thin line, she seems to genuinely have to think about this before sighing. "Melly made a pass at your husband, the girl who helps us with the cows, thought he'd run off with her but he wasn't too kind about the idea. Don't be upset if she does the same with you, I put her up to it... gods work and all."
Scoffing, I sling one of the toys into the wooden chest. "I've met plenty of gods, surprisingly they give very little consideration to who I've bedded. Wonderful, I'm sure he's in a fantastic mood and feels comfortable leaving our children in your care while we try and save your world, all things considered."
Folding her hands, she slowly sits in the recliner, watching me with the look a concerned mother gives. I could do without the lecture, I'm not a kid anymore.
"Despite my height, my age is greater than I look. If this is about my sexuality, I'd rather not hear it. I need you and John to get past this or tell us now before we have to leave our kids with you because this isn't going to happen without your full compliance. It's such an old fashion notion, I'd be much more concerned about your son's involvement with a siren, a dictator, and a hidden Norse god, than the sexuality of two men who are trying to help you."
I expect her to cry, or perhaps cackle like a witch in one of the children's stories. But, she doesn't. Instead, she nods, somber in her expression. "Alright."
While I want to rant, to continue to give her a piece of my mind, it wouldn't help. She had folded, conceded that I'd won. "Have you seen Verando?"
"They took the young ones and went on a run after the spat with Melly." She sighs.
They? I cock my head. "Verando and Helen?"
"Verando and Caspian."
Standing up, I storm out of the living room, my stomach drops into my chest and my heart begins to race. No, they can't be alone together. Not after what Caspian did, not after what he continued to do, not after all we'd been through. A part of me, in the bottom of my chest, in the depth of my soul, was worried.
Worried about what might happen, worried about what he might do, what Caspian could possibly say to lure him back in. On the front porch, my eyes searched wildly, trying to spot the gray hair that would lead me to find him intact.
There was nobody who I feared could harm my husband in any real sense, nobody save for Caspian.
John shocks me, for I shock him, nearly knocking him over in my haste. "What's on fire?" He grumbles.
"Verando?" I demand, my wolf plots the torture of how to get this man to talk, to extract the information I needed.
Gesturing with his head, he straightens out his shirt. "Sent 'em off to clear out the woods that kid of yours destroyed. Caspian seemed convinced that Verando could do it, my tractor's down, I left 'em to it. Aint much for help with these old bones, Tyler's tryin' to smooth things over with Helen and Landon 'n K are about as much help as... well they ain't. So I've got to fix this tractor."
I'd never met a man who spoke so slow, who took so long to form a thought, my mind races over to the destination. Move the trees? By hand? I shudder, I hadn't hardly gotten to use my strength and the thought boggled my mind considering how broken my husband's body already seemed. Jumping off the porch, I storm towards the woods as John clears his throat.
"I know you're young and a king or something, but in old man speak, that means I'd like some help." He snaps, tonguing his cheek as I freeze in my tracks.
"I don't know the first thing about whatever it is you're trying to fix." I retort strongly. I didn't have time for this, I had to get to Verando, I had to make sure he was ok.
"So you can't learn?" He accuses.
Swallowing back the irritation rising in my throat, I relax my shoulders. I'd asked Jan to be more understanding, to help me if she truly wanted to aid us, and in that, I supposed I had to adhere to my own words.
We make our way down the dirt path that bordered one of the fields, full and ready for a fall harvest by the looks of it. He walks so painfully slow, forcing me to lengthen my stride and slow my gait to make up for his ambling. A part of me wished to carry him, listening to the occasional grunt that coupled his right hip bearing the weight of his body.
I listen to the wet gush of his heart, slower then faster, heavier with an almost slippery undertone. His labored breathing made me flinch, did I sound like this when I was human? Since coming to this time, I had hardly gotten a moment to truly sit in the quiet. Besides the distant chirp of birds and a slow breeze, there wasn't much noise out here.
We had been less than admirable when it came to being a proper guest. Given the poor introduction, the sour taste in my mouth still hadn't subsided, but I supposed it was still expected of us to attempt to be courteous. I spy the lumbering steel beast nestled in the path where it died, halfway into a line of corn. Judging by the growth around the tires and the dried tilled earth, it'd been here for longer than the older man cared to admit.
"Is that why you've not brought in your harvest?" I came from a farming country, I could tell overgrown crops when I saw them.
Grumbling to himself, John wipes his brow with a rag from his rear pocket. "Surrounded by women, my son's gone and run off to save the planet, can't call him up and tell him to come home for something like this, can I? If ya can't tell, I'm old. Getting the parts for this thing ain't easy, trucks also actin' up."
Sighing, I nod once. I was armed with my husband's credit card, surely I could put some of this angst behind us if I helped out. "How much will it cost?"
Scowling the old man rolls his eyes heavily, "God above you're blunt. No, son, I'm not talking about cash. I'm damn old, I can't get the damned nuts and bolts turned and I can't get the truck jacked up. You're young, lift shit."
Oh.
Glancing down at my hands, I hadn't thought about my use in that sense, not entirely at least. I knew I was strong, I was a completely different person than the one I had been born as. Following his guidance, we get to work on troubleshooting the iron giant. Dark, dirty, and covered in grease, I found comfort in the strong scent of bio-dieasel and the simplicity of the design. There wasn't an untouched crevice in the entire creature, everything was layered and lubricated in either intentional oil or falloff from decades of harvest and weather, it was surprisingly calming to bury myself in its depths.
My hands were so much smaller than John's, fingers more nimble, able to get into the tight spaces of the cords and cables. Checking the lines, insuring all the parts weren't in various states of disintegration. Each step brought on a more complex piece of the puzzle, following the signs of age until we discovered the lack of 'fire' as John called it.
A short, a place where the spark could not achieve contact.
In the debris, it was hard to recognize.
Hour's worth of work in the sun had to lead us to one small detail, one tiny miscommunication in the wiring, that would keep the beast grounded. Trimming and replacing the wire, I step back as John cranks the engine, the beast rumbles to life.
Black heavy smoke rolls out of exhaust pipe, we collectively cough as the tractor gives a mighty buck and attempts to lurch forward. John quickly stomps on the brake, attempting to right the beast as the front left tire flops helplessly to the side. I quickly grab the frame, positioning myself in front, lifting the steel creature in an attempt to keep it upright while John fiddles with the control in a panic.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the engine stalls and dies. My shirt caught in the axle, shredded to pieces by the loose, flat wheel, and my arms were marked with grease from the attempt to climb my torso. I sigh in relief as I drop the tractor, John wild-eyed as he takes me in with a heavy pant.
"Damn it." I curse. I liked the way the shirt fit me, though admittedly it wasn't right for the job I'd chosen.
"You just lifted the tractor."
"Of course I did, I didn't want it to hurt you." Attempting to dust myself off, I feel ridiculously exposed being bare-chested in the middle of the field. With the sun beating down on my tanned skin, I felt horribly out of place next to the near Irish desented man before me.
"Right." He nods once, people out here hadn't had much experience with Lycans, perhaps he truly did think Verando and his gang had run off into the woods to escape work rather than actually attempt to move trees. Slumping back into his chair, I would offer him a hand but it felt out of place so I instead inspect the wheel. The bolts had simply rusted through, the low tire putting too much pressure and causing them to snap by the effort.
I'd watched enough TV in my depression to know that bolts had their own mechanisms and would need retooling. "This is something that we can't fix here. The bolts are broken, they need to be removed."
"You knew that?" He seems impressed as he slides out of his seat.
Considering this, I shrug. "I watch a lot of TV."
With a scoff, he shakes his head, patting me roughly on the back. I flinch at the slight sunburn on the back of my neck. "You're a good man, Nic. Well done, we did what we needed to do, lets get back to the house, see if Ol' Mom has some lunch for us."
In the instant, my heart flips, a sudden agony that I hadn't fathomed I'd experience. A man. I was a man.
In any part of my life, my sexuality had been questioned. I didn't care for the joust, the sports and athletics, nor did I enjoy combat and sparing. I was lighter, smaller, and delicate in a way. Feminine, attractive to some, unappealing to women, I preferred wine to ale and liked to shop for a variety of clothes rather than simple breeches and frocks. I enjoyed all the things that deemed me a woman in my time, that made others question my masculinity.
Here, next to this bigoted bastard, I was a man. I was doing something that a man would do, dirty and difficult things that deemed me worthy of such a title. Coupled with a father figure, even if it was just the grunting old man telling me I was decent, that I was worthy of the payment of a homemade meal, it was something I'd never had before.
My father did little with me, there wasn't much we could bond over compared to what my brothers were interested in. Hunting, court, and the occasional lesson and dinner were all I could expect until the man died and visited me in the afterlife.
"What does a man do when he's complimented?" I finally ask, for I was uncertain of what to do next. "I've been called a homosexual, a fem, a whore, a prince, a king... not often am I called a man." It's more than this poor aged man signed up for. He stares at me, blinking a few times before clearing his throat.
"Well. He might say thanks. Or, he might just nod. He could just feel proud of a job well done. Whatever feels right to you, son."
Hmm. I nod to him, awkwardly crossing my arms over my bare chest. "Alright then."
Turning, I follow him back towards the house, glancing back over my shoulder at the tractor. "Can we look at the truck after lunch?" I manage with a sigh, I didn't want it to be over, not just yet. There was a part of me that this appealed to, I felt useful, I felt like I was capable of more than commanding others to do my bidding.
"Don't you want to see how we're going to get those bolts out? Finish the job, then move on to the next. I can't grind them out by myself."
I blink, smirking to myself at the thought. "Absolutely."
As we near the porch, Verando appears out of the woods with Caspian beside him. While it would look like Randy and Cas might be trying to crawl home, they collapse on the grass in sweaty heaps while Verando adjusts the tree trunk he has shouldered. I want to warn him to be careful, but the shoulder seems to be in good repair and he seems in good spirits.
"You've gotten soft." Caspian teases, punching him in the abdominals with his only hand. Verando rolls his eyes heavily, flashing him the look that I adore so much, that I felt was only reserved for me. "You could hardly lift that tree."
"A couple more days of this I'll be back to where I should be. I'm not nearly as active as I was when you truly knew me." He responds, his body covered in a heavy layer of sweat, his hair darkened and matted down in a tangled mop. He was dirty, covered in grit and leaf litter, bark, and rubble from the wreckage, but he truly looked happy.
"I'm dying." Cas manages. "You're both insane. We're insane. Send us home." He pleads.
Chuckling, Verando spots me, setting the tree trunk down with a loud crack as it hits the ground. "What happened to you?" He cocks his head to the side, taking me in.
"I could ask you the same," I mumble, tightening my arms over my chest. I didn't want Caspian to see me, not like this, not so exposed. Secondary to my own discomfort was the obvious state of reveal the love of my life was in. Verando was hardly in anything save for a pair of clinging black shorts and hiking boots, his dirt-covered body a mess of tan skin, scars, and every ounce of muscle flexed to perfection.
I'd ravish him if I weren't trying to make a good impression.
Unwilling to be deterred by the awkward air between us, John clears his throat. "Mom's making lunch of you gentlemen want to join us. Perhaps put some clothes on before dinner... there are women around who might not find this appropriate."
The exhausted youth leap to their feet, scrambling for the stairs and the air conditioning, leaving us to our staring contest as the man retreats into the house. Caspian is the one who looks the most offended while I search my husband's face and he attempts to decide how I was processing seeing the two of them together.
Caspian violates the code between man and husband, he inserts himself where he doesn't belong. Verando plays the correct hand, looking irritated more than empathetic. He was locked on to me, he wanted to know why I was upset, yet he still stood beside the vilest creature to walk this earth.
"What, should I have asked you permission before I take my friend to blow off some steam?"
Flashing my teeth, I snarl at the dark-haired man. "He's not your friend, Caspian." I wouldn't be like Tyler, I wouldn't worry about the things my husband could and couldn't due based on the limits of his body. But, at the same time, making him stronger wouldn't help Helen defeat him. If we were supposed to be pulling our plan together, putting him into a fitness program was not helping that cause.
"Is that why you're upset?" Verando's voice is lower, he meets my gaze, taking a step forward to near me as I step away from him with a sigh. I can't let him suck me in, I have to voice why I'm upset or I'll never let go of it, I was trying to be mature and yet I was miserably failing. Why was I the only one who seemed to still hate the demon?
"No. Yes?"
"You don't trust me." He nearly mouths it, defeat creeping into his tone. It's like an electric shock, Caspian snorts and I wish to inflict violence on the man as I take two quick steps forward only for Verando to stop me with his hand on my chest. It's a whiff of his scent that acts like morphine to my senses, yet throws me into overdrive to protect the man I love.
Smacking his hand away, I can only scowl as Caspian takes the hint and heads for the house. "It's him I don't trust, Randy. With you, with your emotions, with your body, with anything that belongs to me. You are mine and he does not seem to understand the simplest form of that. Every chance he gets he's too close-"
"I know." The patience on his face makes me hesitate, losing steam. I love him to much to hurt him for the sake of hurting Caspian, he feared I thought he'd cheat, I was doing little to convince him otherwise.
"I hate him. I hate him so much. Watching him devour you with his eyes... watching him salivate-"
"Nic." The pain is clear in his voice. He knew all of this, too because he saw it in full color before his eyes with the younger versions. "If we are going to work with Caspian, he needs to be on our side. The rougher I treat Caspian, the more my younger self is going to cling to him. I have to stay neutral."
Every time I try and slip out of his grasp, he captures me again, staying one step ahead of my attempt to not get too close to him. I'd had such an emotional moment, it was possible I almost blamed him for not being there.
Finally, I seize my own hands, pushing them against his chest to gain some space. "I'm disgusting, I know you don't want to get dirty."
The grit under my fingers grows closer as he pulls me in, "I'm already filthy. Though I dare say you're a whole new level of atrocity. I actually kind of like it, very... masculine." He tilts my chin up, free hand resting on my hip to keep me close. Wrinkling my nose in response, I growl low in my throat at him, emotional, on edge, wanting everything and nothing all at once.
I clutch his jaw, capturing his eyes with my own. He smelled heavenly, like the woods, like masculinity, like my husband. "Don't you ever share that look with him again. It's for me and me alone, got it, Verando Mercer?"
"This one?" He flashes me my favorite look and I pull him to me to kiss him, invading his mouth with my tongue as my hand snakes around his neck. "You smell so good." He leaves my mouth to skirt his nose over my throat, lifting me off the ground to take a slow inhale.
"I smell like diesel," I complain, sighing as my stomach rumbles for the promised lunch. "You smell like the old you, the one who conquered my city and ruled the world."
"Do you not like this version of me? I know I'm quite a bit different...." His words catch me off guard, I brush my nose against his, nuzzling him as I hug him tightly. My legs find his waist as I cling to him, his arms wrapping around me.
"I will love you anyway I can have you," I reassure him, hearing him chuckle as my stomach growls once more. "Even if you insist on starving me."