Chapter 18 LIGHT
For both MI5 business travel and leisure, Gray kept to Heathrow’s VIP access at the airport, which also usually incorporated travel via limousine to and from home, not to mention a stay in the private lounge until the plane arrived. He offered Light and Simon no less, all except access to travel. With Light’s increasing tie to MI6 international training since Cal had sat down to talk to him short of Light’s twenty-first birthday a few months back, Gray took care of travel in around the UK. That was until Light learned how to keep his head down with getting away from conflict as well as starting to get into it.
Gray stood in the private lounge, looking over artwork by Heathrow’s partner, Tanya Baxter. For once he didn’t take any of the detail in. He’d been offered a light meal, but had declined that too, opting for a coffee he had yet to touch.
After losing Martin, Light had dug deep into his training with Baseman and was set to complete his MSc by Research in Physical and Theoretical Chemistry next year. Gray kept his training over both MI5 and the culler intelligence slow and calm-headed to counter how fast Light’s head moved. Light wanted to learn, but like with eating regularly purely to not make the mistake of running on empty again, he learned with the same mechanical drive to cover every possible angle over not getting taken down. So he needed slowing down in order to let everything sink in.
Gray sighed and rubbed at his head, his soul drained over what had gone down yesterday, so he tried to focus on the now.
Simon hadn’t been impressed with the first operation with Light: a trip to Israel to liaison with Mossad over a chemical clean-up operation after a base of theirs was hit by ISIS. Then Cal had extended that to asking them to head over to the US on intel gathering. That was more up Simon’s alley. Gray called no a few times on some of the MI6 operations after that and refocused Light on his academics and training, much to Light’s hard look at him for it. Gray didn’t care. Spy business came with rules that constantly changed. He’d always be here, teaching Light, no matter how much he hated him for it. And a part of Light would always hate him, Gray saw that in the distance Light tried to put between them, either with the summerhouse at the manor or on another continent. He was still caught in a way of life that took him far from home, from who he’d been with Brin, and it seemed a part of himself he’d never get back.
A card swiped at the lock to the door, and it eased open a moment later.
Holding a darker tan since last he’d seen him, Simon came in first, juggling a suitcase and an overnight bag. Jet lag weighed in his eyes, but a smile came Gray’s way, albeit a very thin one.
“Good journey?” Gray took out his car keys. He couldn’t afford to linger, but he knew the journey from Egypt was a rough one. Again Cal. Again a more subtle push to get Light under his wing. Not that Gray minded. Not that Light did either as a just-as-tired look came Gray’s way off Light as he came in next. He still had that look that preferred home shores even if he found Gray there at the end of it.
“Could have gone better.” Light left his case in the hallway and came over, his look towards Simon. Simon ignored it as he worked away on his phone, and Light snorted.
Something had gone on between them, but spies, even trainee ones in Light’s case because Simon already owned the tag, they never did make the best bed partners, not with each other.
“You need a drink before we get back?” said Gray, picking up his coffee and taking a long sip before tipping his cup to the bar. He needed to get back to the Oval. The news over the Soames case had broken today, citing unusual circumstances , and tensions were going to be strained between Parliament and the Embassy of the United States of America over at Nine Elms Lane. With the threat upgrade, he’d spent time already from an MI5 front sorting security detail for any remaining US politicians, but Thorn himself was handling communications with travel for next of kin when it came to the Soames. That left Gray chasing ghosts, and he didn’t know whether to take it as a good sign that no more bone marrow syphoning murders had been reported.
Quiet rarely equalled calm and sense, just a heavy feeling that something worse was to come. The issue was… where? When?
Light shifted over and grabbed a Coke to go, then lowered his look at Simon and tossed him a can too. Simon caught it, and it was there: how there’d been no ask, just a private communication between lovers, pissed off ones, but still lovers.
Gray took the hint and made his way to his Merc, feeling like he’d lived in it the past forty-eight hours. He put Light’s case in the boot, then handled Simon’s and let them both crawl in the back.
The silence was far too ill between them as usual, and as he headed home, Gray didn’t break it by asking any questions on how it had gone in Egypt. Cal would pass him a copy of their report.
“I have a list of supplies I’ll need in a week,” said Light as he worked on his phone, startling the quiet. Simon carried on working on his but didn’t look up when Light spoke. “Can you clear it for Ray to order in?”
“What’s marked as a bio or explosion hazard?” said Gray as he drove. Asking for clearance before he spoke to Ray usually meant handling one or the other.
“Just the one. Boron Trichloride.”
Gray winced. An explosion hazard in the form of a colourless gas, mostly used in fertilizers. That was damn serious play, especially when mixed with water, causing seizures, coma, convulsions and ultimately death. “Pass me a copy of the list, and when you talk to Ray when he’s back on duty, make damn sure he follows storage instructions with keeping it away from moisture and water. I’ll double-check the setup when you’re done.”
Light snorted, but the rules were still so rigid regarding any hazardous material he handled. Trust would always remain low. It would until Light showed trust Gray’s way, and that seemed a long way off. For now, Gray gave him some leeway by not chasing what he was doing with the explosive hazard, mostly because he could see this came from Cal on a new project. Light’s unique head with naming chemicals through colour was… too damn sharp not to get on side as well.
“Jan okay? Jack?”
Simon wouldn’t have told him about the footage of Jack he’d pieced together. That had been marked as classified, so this was a sincere ask off Light.
“Getting there.” It had been Gray’s reply for the past two years. Light respected it enough to not ask for anything more. Gray protected Jan and Jack from a threat as much as Light tried to do with Simon. And Light had been one hell of a threat.
Gray pulled up around back by the summerhouse thirty minutes later, just after seven, and breathed a little easier with it. Simon handled both cases, leaving Light with the overnight bag as Light headed on in, but as Simon went to follow, Gray called him to a stop. “What’s your problem over the Boron Trichloride?”
Simon dug a hand in his suit pocket and offered a small smile. “You picked up on that, huh?”
“Profiler,” said Gray.
Simon tensed his jaw, hand digging deeper in his pockets. “It’s not that case that bothers me.” He glanced back, not looking happy as Light made it into the summerhouse. “He won’t disclose what he is handling in a new case, and he’s putting me on the bench when he neutralises it.” He found Gray again. “He’s going in alone.”
Non-disclosure? And going in alone? Was he now…? Gray eased against the bonnet, folding his arms. “That Cal’s requirement, or his?”
Simon shook his head. “He says Cal, but I know it’s him.” He sucked in a breath. “There’s that biting look off him lately, like he wastes more time being annoyed over where I’m standing than he does over which poison he’s deconstructing. He needs to learn he’s not my babysitter out there. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than he has.”
Gray winced. Light was clear over how he’d never mix a poisonous composition for intelligence services, but he would work out what had been used, who’d used it, and how best to counter it in the field, but he still struggled on the emotional side with Simon. If he carried on, he’d lose him because of it. Despite how far he’d come training under Gray, Simon’s martial arts skills weren’t Light’s, and his knowledge of chemicals wouldn’t touch his either, period: but that damn head of his under the tag Konami on the Internet that had more than caught Light out a few times and gotten him arrested was another main reason why Cal wanted Light: he had Simon. They came as a lethal package. Light had yet to see that. Life wasn’t all about him. The spy business was just that: an interwoven web of people, and Cal had been playing the strings the longest. He slowly weaved silk to connect them all, in part for family, but in most part because he wasn’t called Ferryman for nothing. But there was also that quiet from Cal on the grandfather front where Light was concerned, how he kept Light focused on his chemicals in order to help those around him instead of cull.
Gray agreed with him there.
“He partners with you or not at all,” Gray said flatly. “Make him understand that before I do.”
Simon snorted a bitter smile, and he looked away before finding Gray again. “I want back in with MI5 on an official consultant basis.” He shook his head. “Doing nothing is killing me. In between training operations with MI6 and occasional dog treats from Ray and MI5, I’m… I’m hacking into The Bank of England’s CEO’s home, forget the bank itself, and cutting all his smart appliances before getting him to pay for my security program, all just for the kicks.” He winced. “I’ve not done that in decades.”
Gray scratched at his jaw, tried to bury a smile. Yeah, he really missed Simon’s… way with technology. “Don’t let me catch you doing that from here.” He snorted, knowing Simon would run rings around anyone who tried to look. “With Light: make it work,” he added eventually. “As Ferryman, Cal is operation’s organiser for MI6, but you have the final say on where Light goes, no one else. How you keep him alive will dictate what comes your way in any career you think you need.”
Simon gave a disgruntled sigh, none of the tension easing from his shoulders.
Light was still learning to connect, and Gray wouldn’t allow Simon to lose patience with how he was here to anchor him and call no on his getting too lost as well. But when it came to Simon getting back into MI5: that wouldn’t ever be Gray’s decision. It would be Simon’s and how he taught Light how to deal with not treating Simon as his possession.
Gray looked back at the manor’s kitchen, at how Jan sat working at the table. He’d taken on some of Chris’s case load almost as penance, and Jack slipped a coffee next to him, some food, and that was Jack’s quiet penance, or a way to make sure Jan was okay and going through his stomach to do it.
“Files were corrupted.” It came quietly off Simon as his look stayed on Jack and Jan as well. “I also made sure the parts Jack had already wiped were erased completely too in case anyone works around the corrupted data.” He frowned. “He knows his cars and did a good job, just not good enough at my level with tech.”
Gray nodded. “That include deleting evidence on Ray’s and the MC too?”
“Of course. I’ve handled the tech remotely when it comes to what the MC had stored. I also checked for files with the Met, but nothing had been passed over. Looks like they suspect no foul play.” Simon rubbed distractedly at his jaw. “Is he on lockdown? Jack.”
Gray shook his head. “He had a meeting with Halliday this morning. Medication has been adjusted in relation to the walk back into Vince’s factory he’s been taking.” Jack had kept to the gag order over not telling Halliday about Chris.
“Okay. I’ll…” He winced. “I’ll keep Light out of his way as best as possible. The way they both are lately….”
Gray nodded, and heart a little too heavy, he headed back for the manor. He wouldn’t disturb Raif with his look into Jude. Jan had asked him to handle it, Jack had said yes unless it ran into any trouble. It was hard for Gray to step back here, but seeing Jack was easing back too, Gray took the step back with him. He knew if it got hard for Raif, he’d get the call.
For now his focus was back with the breaking news on the Soames case.
He trusted his gut. Something big was coming.
Damn unfortunate there’d been no DNA match on his witness. Gray would have really liked a word in their ear.
Light stood at the kitchen window, his attention on the manor’s conservatory as he put Simon’s mug by the coffee machine. Despite the darkness, the hue of coloured particles surrounding the manor were too bright, too off, like the Northern Lights getting hit too hard with CMEs and calling out a harder distress as it tried to calm in the aftermath. It itched and burned on contact, even from here, and most of it surrounded Gray.
Light held out his hand, how it shook slightly.
“You all right? You want a hot chocolate?”
Light sniffed and dug his hand in his pocket, his look outside broken for a moment when Simon spoke and brushed by him to switch the coffee machine on. He smelt so good: shower fresh, damp hair… deodorant, cologne…. All trace of the long flight washed away.
“I’m good,” he said flatly, his look going back outside as he rested against the sink. A teaspoon slipped into the mug by him, and Light nodded towards the manor’s kitchen window. “Something’s gone down over there.”
Simon rested back by Light, arms folded. “Happens,” he said flatly. “It’s not easy living with a psychopath.”
Light looked at him. Did he know something? If so, why wasn’t he saying? “Hardly fair, do you think? Putting the blame on Gray?” He’d push to find out.
“What I think around here is pretty irrelevant, right?”
Right. Simon returned the fire, but it looked to start a fight Light didn’t want. He’d caught Simon’s and Gray’s quiet conversation as he headed into the summerhouse, and he knew talk had surrounded Simon getting back into MI5. That’s all it would ever be to Light. Talk. He tolerated the off-the-books consultancy with them, but that was kept at a firm distance. For now, Simon wore his glasses, giving up secrets on how he’d been on his laptop as he’d gotten dressed, although “dressed” did all the wrong things to Light. He wore only loose grey pyjama bottoms, showing surprisingly how fit his body was under all that boring IT suit. His calm look at Light called that confidence out too, and Light snorted a smile before turning away and heading for the bedroom.
“You not eating?”
“Not hungry,” said Light, but he glanced back over his shoulder. “They miss Martin.” He frowned. “Me too. Jack—”
“—Is good on calling you out on your bullshit, which is why it’s good to stay away until he himself gives the all clear.” Yeah, Simon was up for a fight. Coffee in hand, he followed Light into their bedroom. They had two working ones: Light’s and… also Light’s, mostly because old habits died hard, how his clothes, shoes… body… it had always claimed everyone else’s room as his own as well. It unnerved how the old habit had happened with Simon, even if Light still did choose… space in another room. He let his own look say he kept his bedroom solely for him if… when they both needed space, but Simon’s older smirk had called out how arguments saw them fuck harder, but it wouldn’t ever throw them into separate bedrooms. Light would push for the fight at the worst of times, mostly because talking… asking for closeness any other way felt awkward… odd.
And Jack? Fight he could handle, but Jack’s silence and denial…? Still gave him that throwaway toy, throwaway boy feeling. Of tasting wrong .
He did taste wrong, he’d come to terms with that. But he also knew when he’d crossed a line with taking up Martin’s offer of a friend and poisoning his way out of the manor, taking everyone down with it. Jack wasn’t Gray, and even Jan had softened a little and came, albeit warily, into the summerhouse every now and again when they were here. So most times it was to come and give Gray a message, but Jan had his phone like Gray did. Messages could be sent via them, so Jan coming to the summerhouse? It was at least to try and move forward.
Light didn’t have a clue where to start with Jack other than to give him space, but he seemed… at peace with it. And he’d had two years of it.
Light frowned. It had been longer without Brin, so… yeah, he understood Jack’s hurt. What poison he’d forced down all of their throats could have cost him Gray and Jan right along with Martin.
Shaking his head, Light took off his T-shirt, now just down to grey sweats, as Simon took his laptop off the ruffled covers and put it in the bedside unit before tossing back the covers. A look came Light’s way as he did.
Yeah. Fight. It was also there in Simon’s look over MI5 and the upcoming Afghanistan trip, but unlike Jack’s, Light could easily dig into Simon’s fight to find a way to try and burn some of it out, distract him from it. For now, he turned back, knowing Simon hated that, and he picked up a hair band before loosely tying up his hair. He hated it on his skin of a night. Being too distinct in the field, the silver tone had gone, and he was back to his half-decent rocker length.
“Stop.” A grip came at his arm, and he was turned around.
Light kept his breathing calm, so bloody calm with knowing what was coming.
Simon knelt, patting down his pockets, then the run up and his outer and inner thighs. It took only a professional moment, then Simon stepped back.
Giving a snort and keeping hold of his look, Light returned the… bastardness, but made his body search longer, slower.
Rules of sharing a bed were simple: no chemicals brought to the home table on Light’s part that would take Simon down again; no laptops, phones or anything other poison of Simon’s that had taken Light down either. Each came with their own way to burn through someone, with their… mistrust, so they enforced this no-fire zone in the bedroom.
Simon’s laptop and phone should have gone in the safe without being used, and Light threw him a look and locked them away as Simon innocently went over and grabbed his coffee.
“I needed to send the field report to Cal.” Not facing him, Simon sat on the bed.
“Don’t care.” Light threw back the covers on his side. He tolerated Simon’s body search, just like Simon tolerated Light’s. It was just… them, their way of trusting, or trying to get past the mistrust and simmering anger on Simon’s part. Simon’s look said he didn’t want to be here, not fully, so that triggered Light’s own need to keep him at a distance with knowing he could walk away. Light cockblocked him working with Gray both as a potential culler and as Gray’s MI5 unit-manager, and Simon, damn his head, he still fought against the main point. His career choices weren’t the problem, working under Gray was.
The only reason he allowed Simon to work as a consultant with Gray at MI5 was because Gray ultimately paid Simon’s wages, where Light took nothing but expenses. His main income came from Cal. The ill side to all of that meant it cut Simon’s throat with working anywhere but here with Light. But Light saw what Simon didn’t.
Gray would only be lead culler until someone better came along. And someone better always did. They’d all be on a hitlist eventually.
“You broke a rule. Yours,” Light said quietly to Simon. “Fuck off to the other room.”
“Grow up, Light. I take my own bed or nothing at all.” Simon sipped at his coffee. “I’m also going with you to Afghanistan in a few weeks.” He glanced over his shoulder. “That or I confiscate your ticket and I go alone.”
Light stilled as he went to get in bed.
Afghanistan wasn’t just a clean-up issue this time. Boron trichloride wasn’t the goddamn problem here either, and… Christ, he couldn’t disclose what he’d be working on because he said he was going alone to Cal and classified paperwork was due to be signed on Wednesday. Simon knew that, but still kept pushing those buttons over being left out and in the dark. It was done for a reason, one, again, that Simon damn well knew he couldn’t talk about. Yet here he was, trying to do just that.
Boron trichloride had a sole sadist’s reaction with water, but it had a cousin that Cal had found over in Afghanistan, one that was so much more deadly. Chlorine trifluoride was an extremely strong oxidising and fluorinating agent, which meant it went full on teenage aggression over picking a fight with anything it came into contact with. Liquid chemical contamination… trace contamination on a surface… vapor contamination…. It was known as the chemical that never stopped burning for a bloody reason. No fireman could put it out, and it was banned under the Chemical Weapons Convention because of it.
He’d read Cal’s file on how the Islamic State in Khorasan had been damn smart. Like the US until recently, colleges and universities hadn’t been classified as potential chemical facilities, so went under the search radar of any allied force. A few obscure universities had been taken over, and their labs used for storage. That’s when chlorine trifluoride started to make an appearance in territory fights. Cal had gotten hold of a sample, and over the next few weeks, Light would be working with his team to find a way to neutralise it.
And Simon… he was getting nowhere near that shit.
“You pulled your big-boy boots on and call Cal just to get his backing on that?” Light tossed back the bed covers. “Or did you only need Gray’s?”
Simon shook his head. “None needed off anyone but me. I decide who goes where and when. I’m lead officer.”
“Yeah.” Light got in and lay down, turning his back. Again. “Have another staff meeting with yourself and cancel both of our flights in a few weeks, then. I can’t have you fucking up around chlorine tri—” Fuck. He stopped that there. He was too used to talking with Simon, not hiding basic fucking facts that were there to keep them both sane.
Quiet settled in the bedroom, then a mug was laid to rest on the bedside unit before Simon came in close under the covers, shaping him from behind, and he was pulled back into him.
“So that’s what he’s got you neutralising.” A hard sigh came, and Simon’s breath brushed Light’s ear before he shifted and pulled Light onto his back. He settled in at his side again a moment later.
Simon watched him for a moment, then reached over and switched the soft nightlight off. It left them in darkness, only Simon’s touch along his jaw and pressure off his body giving him a physical presence.
“Talk.” It came so quietly. “And I mean like the lad who needed to stay safe here with family, even if it had to come on the back of an apology to Gray in order to do it.”
Light frowned, and he was damn glad only darkness saw it. Talking always came easier in the darkness of a bedroom. He lied there. Talking only came easier in the darkness of the bedroom with Simon. Here there was a taste of honesty, how Simon almost didn’t seem to want to leave. Almost.
He needed the offer of almost because anything else left him shaking and sick without him. “The chemical that always burns, Si…”
A thumb brushed at his lips, then a kiss ghosted them a moment later. “Still can’t say Brin’s name despite him being on your mind the past week, can you?”
Light went to pull away. “He wasn’t on my fucking mind. Not fully.” And he hated how time took thought on Brin away from him.
“Hey.” Simon cupped his neck, stopping him from moving. “I know. I can see that.” He stroked lightly at his throat. “You choose to face something like that and it goes wrong, we burn together, okay? Because I know that’s where your head’s going.” A longer stroke came along his jaw. “I see it, y’know. How aggressively you take each offer that comes your way from Cal and Interpol.” A frown. “How it’s not about dying with you but running into the fire first so you’re not the one left behind to live. You think living would be any easier for me if I lost you?”
Death brought ashes, an end, but left alone to live?
Frowning, Light traced lightly under Simon’s eye, all the colours he pictured playing there in the darkness. Each one called out he condemned Simon to be the one left behind in the hell. Sometimes Light didn’t see things, not the wider emotional field, but he had over this. Maybe it would always be his flaw, because he’d damn well killed Brin and Lee over it. In the end, he knew he deserved the condemnation. Simon didn’t, not to be the one left to live here, alone.
“Yeah. We go together or not at all,” Simon said softly. “But make the choice and be honest with yourself over why, at least with me, in this bed. You don’t need to explain to anyone beyond these four walls what’s in your head. I’m here to do that.”
Light steadied his breathing, needing it. “We both don’t go,” he said eventually. “You—”
Simon shook his head, and another kiss brushed his lips. “Try again. Be straight with me over what’s got you scared and pushing me away.”
Light frowned, then eventually rested Simon’s head against his. “It’s such a dangerous compound, Si. I mean nothing like I’ve handled before, certainly not away from the safety of a lab. I can’t concentrate properly with you around me. My fault, not yours. So…” A frown. “So I’ll work neutralising it here, but we both don’t go and test it in the field because I’m not ready to face the burn if a fight breaks out. Not with this, not with you in the mix and me losing you.”
A long slow sigh came off Simon, then a touch traced down Light’s side, to his hip… his clothed cock. “Now that…” A kiss touched Light’s lips. “That’s you learning how to be a lover.”
Light roughed up the kiss, made it his. “Prove it.” He needed it more than he wanted to admit. Bodies could talk better together more than he could at times, and he trusted Simon’s response. Simon’s body was his even if keeping his mind challenged was so damn hard. He needed more in order to keep them together, Light knew that. But trust was too damn low with those around them both. Light couldn’t let go of that just like he couldn’t let go of Simon, so fucking hard became their language into hearts and heads, at least for him anyway. But darkness helped too. He’d learned that over the past few years through Simon’s way with turning off the light to talk. Darkness didn’t condemn.
Or maybe it was just Simon who didn’t.
Light just needed this: for life to stay calm for a little while longer with Simon, no explosive chemicals or wildcards thrown into the mix.