6. Darius
Chapter six
Darius
Darius was having a shitty flight. A storm had delayed their departure by several hours as they waited for it to move or dissipate enough to give them a clear window for takeoff, which meant the passengers were already stressed and disgruntled by the time they were allowed to board the plane. The flight crew was also less than thrilled since they weren’t on the clock until the doors were closed for departure. Three extra hours of work time without being paid for it and then having to deal with upset passengers? Things did not improve once they were in the air.
The passengers were demanding and argumentative about the pilot’s restrictions on movement due to the unsettled weather in which they were flying. Even though the plane was pitching and shuddering with the turbulence, and the pilot had instructed the attendants to remain seated, the call button dinged at regular intervals.
“Fuck,” Michael muttered from the jump seat next to Darius when the call signal came again just at the moment the plane dipped into an air trench. “We’re going to need to get the sick bags out if we can’t find smoother air soon.”
Darius agreed. He was about to unbuckle his seat belt and make it up the aisle to take care of whatever emergency was so important that the passenger had to jeopardize the safety of the flight crew when Rachel, their lead attendant, shook her head and reached for the PA for the third time since they’d taken off.
“We apologize to our passengers for the inconvenience, but the captain has requested that all on board remain seated until the turbulence subsides for the continued safety of themselves and those seated near them. This includes our flight attendants, who will be happy to assist you once the captain has given the all clear. In the meantime, we thank you for your patience and understanding.” Her tone was a bit crisper than it had been during the previous two announcements.
Almost as soon as she placed the handset in its cradle, the call button chimed again.
“I swear,” Rachel said, and both Darius and Michael nodded. There was no need to say more. Michael and Rachel debated breaking out the air sickness bags and passing them forward in case people needed them while Darius returned to his brooding.
On top of everything going on with the flight, Darius was still working through his discovery about Luis’ feelings for Andrés and mulling over how he could have been so blind to the truth. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that Luis only wanted him as a friend? Twelve years should have been enough time to recognize and accept that however much he might love his best friend, Luis didn’t feel the same way. The weather and the passengers’ moods seemed to reflect Darius’ thoughts and inner turmoil, and that comforted him somewhat, made it feel more real.
He was also grateful his and Luis’ carefully aligned schedules had gotten thrown off because it meant he had time to work through his feelings and decide what to do. Darius wouldn’t be back in LA for another four days, while Luis would return from Brussels in five. They’d have one day of overlap again before Darius was headed back to Tokyo. He could do that. He could keep everything outwardly the same for a day while he worked on putting his heart back together. After all, he’d been pretending for twelve years now; this really didn’t change anything between the two of them.
The ding of the call button interrupted Darius’ thoughts.
“Same row as before,” he said. Of the three of them, he was the only one with a view of the passengers.
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could put them in stasis?” Michael asked. “Like they do in sci-fi movies?”
Both Darius and Rachel chuckled, but Darius looked up the aisle and frowned at some movement he saw in that row from the passenger on the aisle. He couldn’t name exactly what concerned him about the way the woman was shifting in her seat, but something wasn’t right. Even as he watched, a passenger across the aisle from her reached up and pressed the call button.
“I think someone needs help,” he said, even as the plane shuddered and rocked from side to side. “I’ll go check it out.”
“Be careful,” Rachel said as Darius unbuckled his seat belt and stood up.
If the pitch and roll of the plane was bad while he was sitting down, it was even worse when he was standing—or trying to—on his feet. He took a step forward, his foot coming down sooner than he expected as the floor rose, and he lurched against the bathroom door.
Darius put out a hand to steady himself, took a deep breath, and stepped forward again. He gripped the seat back of the last row, then reached for the next seat on the opposite side, trying to keep himself anchored and from falling over. The greater danger was that if the plane suddenly lost altitude, he’d slam into the ceiling as the floor dropped out from under his feet. He could wind up with a concussion or worse, depending on how hard he hit.
Keeping the woman in row thirty-one in his sights, Darius slowly made his way up the aisle. He’d almost reached her when she screamed and tried to stand up, but her seatbelt was still fastened. She screamed again and clawed at the buckle.
The chatter from the other passengers stopped as everyone’s focus shifted to the woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw cell phones lifting, cameras pointed in his direction.
“Ma’am,” Darius said, using the strong and commanding voice he’d been taught. “Ma’am, I need you to remain in your seat.”The metallic snick of the buckle releasing gave Darius a split-second warning, and he paused as the woman scrambled to her feet. Still two rows away from her, Darius could smell the alcohol, and his brain clicked into safety mode as he quickly assessed the woman standing in front of him. She was white, older, maybe in her sixties, with graying brown hair cut short and close to her head, possibly five foot six, and around one hundred and fifty pounds. In a Krav Maga match, she’d have been easy to subdue, but this wasn’t a sparring ring, and there were people sitting in every seat between them.
Darius held one hand up, as much of a calming, placating gesture as he could make without risking his balance. “Ma’am, please return to your seat,” he said, still using his strong voice.
The woman turned to him, her eyes unfocused and darting from side to side as she stepped into the aisle and faced him.
Darius was still assessing everything he could about her demeanor, her movements, the location of other passengers. They were on a 787 with a three-four-three seating arrangement, and it was a full flight with few empty seats except in the back. He noticed one of the business class attendants step through the curtain that divided coach from the more expensive seats, but he didn’t know who it was, his attention focused on the woman.
“Is anyone traveling with this woman?” Darius asked, keeping his voice as low and calm as possible while still making himself heard.
In his peripheral vision, Darius saw several heads shake.
“Are you okay?” Darius asked the woman.
She shook her head back and forth and kept shaking it, a tremor running up her right side.
“Do you need help?”
This time, the woman held still, watching him intently. Darius scanned the passengers, praying for an air marshal to be on board, even though it was unlikely since their lead FA hadn’t said there was.
“Can you tell me your name?” he asked her.
She shook her head, eyes still focused on him, shoulder hunching forward. Darius had a moment of annoyance at himself for not checking the passenger manifest. He looked over the woman’s shoulder to the other flight attendant, taking note that it was Jason. They nodded at each other.
“Ma’am,” Jason said, “it’s not safe for you to be standing up right now.”
“Don’t touch me,” the woman screamed.
“No one’s touching you,” Darius said. Behind him, he sensed movement in the galley, heard the quiet murmur of Rachel’s voice, and knew she was communicating with the cockpit.
The plane shuddered and pitched again, the floor rolling beneath Darius’ feet, and then there was a bang and a lurch upward, as if the plane had hit a speed bump, and the woman screamed again.
“Don’t touch me.” She pointed her hand at Darius, and he saw a flash of silver that made his breath catch in his chest. The woman had a metal steak knife in her hand.
Where on earth had that come from? They hadn’t served food yet, and their utensils were plastic. She couldn’t have brought it in her carry-on because TSA would have found it. But even as he thought it, Darius realized it must have come from one of the terminal restaurants, which meant it didn’t have a sharp tip, but it was serrated and could cause a nasty cut on human skin. There was no way she could get to the cockpit, if that had been her intention, but there were nearly three hundred souls on board this flight. He needed to subdue this woman for everyone’s safety, including hers.
Time slowed and focus narrowed as Darius glanced at Jason, signaling that the woman had a weapon. Jason nodded, understanding. There were whispers now from the passengers; someone was crying, and then a baby wailed. The sound seemed to unfreeze the woman, and she lunged toward Darius. He stepped backward out of range, hoping the plane didn’t roll and throw him off-balance. Jason closed the distance behind her, and then raised his hand pointing toward the back of the plane, where the few remaining empty seats were located. Darius nodded.
“Ma’am,” Darius said, “can you come with me? We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
In response, the woman waved the knife at Darius. “Stay away from me. You’re not going to touch me. You’re not going to put the electricity in me again.”
Darius took a deep breath. Electricity? His mind started connecting information with lightning strokes of insight while he tried to come up with a way to get this under control.
Electroshock was still used to treat severe depression, which might mean the woman was on medication. And she’d been drinking. So not only was she intoxicated, but it was possible there was a drug interaction as well as mental instability. And she was holding a weapon, which made things much more difficult since it might be impossible to reason with her, and any perceived threat might turn into a dangerous situation for himself or other passengers.
He glanced at the row number. Thirty-five. There were five rows until the lavatory and another two rows behind that. He heard movement behind him but wasn’t going to risk glancing over his shoulder to confirm what he hoped those sounds were: Michael and Rachel clearing out a row at the back of the plane.
Again, the silent communication between himself and Jason, and Darius prayed Jason understood what he was thinking. Darius took a step backward, and Jason closed the distance between them, which made the woman move toward Darius, exactly as he’d hoped. Between Jason and himself, they slowly moved the woman down the aisle, moving a few feet backward, then losing ground when she turned to wave the knife at Jason. Some passengers gasped when she lunged at him. Jason backed off, both hands raised in a placating gesture.
The plane lurched as they hit more turbulence, and the woman lost her balance, falling against a young boy, who cried out in panic. Darius heard his mother trying to calm him, and the woman seemed confused by the commotion. She reached out, and Darius held his breath, but she only put her hand on the boy’s head before she stood upright again.
“Ma’am,” Darius said. “Please.”
With her focus back on him, he and Jason began their slow movement to the back seats. Row thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Out of the corner of his eye, Darius noticed a cell phone pointed his way, but he had no time to think about that. Behind the woman, Jason nodded and pointed to the left side of the plane.
Darius nodded back with the smallest of movements, hoping again that Jason understood the plan they were improvising and both of them were on the same page. Jason raised one finger and nodded to the woman.
“Ma’am, we’re trying to help,” Darius said and took another step backward. He was almost even with the fortieth row, which was now empty.
“Don’t touch me,” the woman said again. “I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want the electricity.” Her hand holding the knife trembled.
“I know,” Darius said. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
Jason held up a second finger, and Darius kept talking to keep the woman focused on him. Another half step backward. Another step forward from the woman. Jason closed the distance behind her and raised a third finger.
“Now,” he said.
In the blink of an eye, both of them closed in on the woman. Jason wrapped his arms around her and pinned her arms against her sides while Darius took hold of her wrist with one hand and grabbed the knife with the other. He felt the metal graze his wrist, vaguely aware of it scraping his skin. The woman screamed and struggled as he and Jason did everything they could to wrestle her into the empty row of seats without hurting her.
Once they had her down, Darius was practically sitting on her as Jason took a pair of handcuffs from Rachel and bound her hands. The woman continued to scream and cry, but Jason was able to secure her and fasten the seat belt to keep her seated.
Adrenaline made his heart race, and it wasn’t until Rachel put a hand on his shoulder that he realized she was telling him it was okay. He could relax and stand up. The woman wasn’t a danger anymore.
Darius let go of her and sat up, then stood on shaky legs to applause from the passengers.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice came over the PA. “As I am sure you are aware, we have had an issue. We are returning to LAX immediately and appreciate your understanding.”
There was more to the message, but Darius couldn’t comprehend it. He was crashing fast as the adrenaline began to ebb, suddenly aware that his right forearm stung. When he looked down, he saw the blood.
“Well, fuck,” he said, his legs starting to tremble.
He managed to make it to one of the jump seats in the galley and sat down hard. Rachel immediately got out the first aid kit, pulled on a pair of gloves, pushed up his sleeve, and started cleaning up the cut. It wasn’t deep; Darius had seen the knife and knew it wasn’t sharp enough to do much damage, but it had abraded the skin enough to cause bleeding. While Rachel worked on his arm, Michael handed him a cup of orange juice, and Jason headed back to business class.
“That was fucking amazing, man,” Michael said as Darius accepted the drink and downed it in one swallow.
Handing the cup back to Michael, Darius tried to smile. “Next time, throw some vodka in there, would you?”
Rachel laughed. “Seriously, Darius, that was incredible work.” She pushed at the skin around the cut, then dabbed at it with an antibacterial dressing. “You’ll need to get this checked out by one of the company docs and file a report, and you also need to talk to the union before you go home since this happened on the job, and it needs to be documented.”
“Yeah.” Darius nodded, slowly becoming aware of where he was and the sounds of an airplane in flight. The woman they’d had to subdue moaned every now and then, but she’d gone limp once they’d gotten her in a seat. One of the other attendants was sitting with her. He was also aware they were descending rapidly. “We’re landing?”
“We’ll be wheels down in about five minutes. As soon as we let the cockpit know what was happening, they notified LAX we had an emergency on board. The tower cleared the airspace for us, so we’ve got a direct line to the ground and a gate. Police and ambulance are waiting, and they’ll take her off first.”
“Good.” Darius let his head rest back against the wall. “God, I’m so tired.”
“Totally understandable.” Rachel patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about doing anything else. You and Jason went above and beyond. Just relax until we’re on the ground, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“No thanks needed. You guys are heroes.”
Darius’ entire body felt weighted, and he could barely keep his eyes open as the plane continued its descent. Quicker than he’d known was possible, the plane was on the ground and taxiing for the gate. The PA crackled to life.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. As you know, we have had to return to LAX due to unforeseen circumstances. Once we reach the gate, I am asking all of you to remain seated until the situation has been resolved, which I’m sure you understand. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The intercom in the galley pinged, and Rachel lifted the receiver to speak to the cockpit, then nudged Darius. “The police are going to come through this hatch, so we need to clear out once we’re at the gate. You going to be okay to move?”
Even though his legs felt like lead, Darius nodded and let Rachel help him to his feet. “We’re going to head into business, where there’s an empty seat. Ready?”
Darius nodded, but before he could take a step, Michael put a hand on his shoulder. When Darius turned, Michael gave him a hug. “Seriously, man, that was the wildest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how you kept it together, but damn. I hope we fly together again.”
“Thanks. Me, too.” Darius gave the other man a half-smile as they parted. “It was a good flight for the hour it lasted.”
Shaking her head as she led him up the aisle, Rachel grinned at him. “Can’t believe you’re already making jokes.”
“What else am I going to do?” Darius asked.
Rachel nodded, but before she could say anything else, one of the passengers reached out and touched Darius’ arm, thanking him for what he’d done. After that, it was a steady progression of thank-yous and shaken confessions of how terrifying that had been and God bless you. At the back of the plane, Darius was aware of the hatch opening to admit law enforcement and medics, so he was happy to keep passengers’ attention focused on himself, even though all he wanted to do was get off this plane and collapse.
Once the woman was removed, the pilot came back on the PA to thank everyone for their cooperation, to commend Darius and Jason for their quick thinking, and to tell the passengers that they would be rerouted. “We have about three hundred of you on board,” the pilot said, “so please be patient with our representatives as they do their best to get you to your final destination.”
After getting him settled into a seat in business class, Rachel brought him a glass of wine then took up a position at the front hatch to thank passengers for their understanding as they deplaned. It was a slow process. People had questions about their luggage, their reservations, whether they’d be given hotel rooms if there were no available flights.
Darius watched Rachel and another attendant politely refer passenger after passenger to representatives who were already in the terminal and could answer their questions, but he watched with a sense of detachment. None of what was happening seemed fully real to him, and the actual incident was taking on the fuzzy quality of a dream that dissolved as soon as you opened your eyes. Jason had been seated on the other side of the plane from him, and when their eyes met, they both shook their heads and lifted their glasses in a toast of solidarity.
It seemed to take hours for the plane to clear out. Once the last passenger had started down the jetway, the pilot and co-pilot gathered the flight crew and briefed them on next steps, most of which Rachel had already told him.
There were still a fair number of passengers at the gate when the flight crew emerged in the terminal, and a cheer went up for Darius and Jason, much to the bewilderment of everyone who had not been on their flight. Then time sped up again as Darius was moved from the main part of the terminal to his carrier’s administrative offices, where he filled out the forms they told him to fill out, answered the questions he was asked, and repeated the events to the point where things started to blur in his mind. His arm was looked at and rebandaged a couple of times, and each time, he was told to get it checked out by his doctor so he could be cleared for work. He also found himself on the phone with the carrier’s PR department, who gave him instructions on how to deal with requests for interviews and how to respond if reporters showed up at his home. Bottom line: refer them to us and let us handle it.
And then, finally, Darius got to go home. He wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep for at least a full day, but as soon as he walked into the condo, Greg was in his face asking for the details because, “Holy shit, what the fuck happened on your flight?”
“How on earth do you know about it?” he asked.
Greg handed him his phone and showed him the attendants’ Facebook group. The story was out there. Michael had made the original post, and Jason already had a post up. There were even passenger videos and news reports.
“For fuck’s sake. That poor woman.” Darius turned Greg’s phone off and handed it back. He wheeled his flight bag back into the living room but was suddenly too tired to go further and flopped down on the couch.
“Have you let Luis know you’re all right? He’s got to be going nuts.”
“Shit.” Darius dug his phone out of his pocket. He hadn’t looked at it since he put it in airplane mode before takeoff, but as soon as he had a signal, there was an endless string of alert notices, including text after text from Luis asking if he was okay or begging him to get in touch.
Darius looked up at Greg, not knowing where to start. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
With a laugh, Greg sat next to Darius. “That’s what you want to know?”
“At the moment, my head is spinning, and nothing seems real. You being here is about all the complexity I can deal with at the moment.”
“Fair enough. Holden has a site visit to a base in the Midwest, and then he’s got meetings in Washington for the following couple of weeks, and I’m pretty much out of vacation time, so here I am.” He shrugged. “What can I say, I’ve missed your smiling faces.”
Darius snorted. “I’m sure. You know we’re taking bets on when we’ll be looking for a new roommate.”
The sly smile on Greg’s face told Darius all he needed to know: sooner rather than later. “But come on, tell me what happened. Or—” He paused as another message came in from Luis, followed immediately by an alert on Greg’s phone. “Call that boy and put him out of his misery.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Darius said, and though he’d have rather stayed on the couch longer or had a drink or taken a long, hot bath, he heaved himself to his feet and shuffled his way to his bedroom. Had it only been a few hours before when Luis’ feelings for Andrés were all he could think about?
In his bedroom, he closed the door and changed into a pair of sweats, then lay on the bed and called Luis. He thought it might be the middle of the night in Brussels, he wasn’t sure, but obviously, Luis was awake. The phone didn’t even ring before Luis answered.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Baby, what the hell happened? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. Please. I’ve been so worried.” Luis was speaking so quickly Darius couldn’t get a word in, but he heard a deep, rumbling laugh on Luis’ end and then a voice he recognized as Paul’s telling Luis to take a breath. “Dar?” Luis asked, the pitch of his voice lowered. “I’m so scared. Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“Oh my God. It’s all over the group chat. And those videos. You’re really okay?”
“I am. I promise.”
“Were you terrified? I can’t imagine.”
“Honestly, chico, it happened so fast. Everything’s kind of a blur for me right now. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was all right as soon as I got off the plane, but they had all these forms for me to fill out and people talking to me about…fuck all if I can remember right now.”
“But you’re okay?”
Darius laughed. “I am okay. I have a small cut on one arm, but it’s fine. The only reason I have to get it checked out is for the legal team and the union. That’s all. I promise.”
“Shit. I can’t wait to get home. I want to see for myself that you’re okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to relax until I see you.”
“That’s why I love you so much, chico.”
There was a pause, and Darius could have kicked himself for what he’d just said. He was tired, his thoughts and emotions a mess, and he’d just been as close to a life or death situation as he’d ever been in his life, and…
“I love you, too, Dar. So much. So very, very much.”
“I know you do.”
On the other side of the world, Darius listened to Luis take a breath and pictured him sitting in a hotel room, his beautiful face looking almost angelic as he held the phone to his ear.
“I don’t think you do,” Luis said. “Because, Dar, I need you to know. When I saw all those posts, and the video, and I knew I might have lost you today, it scared the shit out of me because I might have lost the chance to tell you that. Dar, I love you. I am in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. And I don’t mean friend love. And I don’t mean whatever we’ve been saying to each other for all these years. I mean I love you, and I don’t want to be without you. Ever.”
The declaration shocked Darius into silence. He had to be dreaming. This hazy sense of reality he’d had since he saw the knife in that woman’s hand must have him hearing the very thing he had wanted to hear since he was fourteen and realized Luis Herrera was it for him.
“Dar? Did you hear me?” Luis’ voice was uncertain, almost quivering with anxiety, a sound Darius knew almost better than his own voice. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand, and I—”
“Luis? Chico? I love you, too.”
The silence was so absolute that Darius pulled the phone away from his ear and checked that the call hadn’t dropped, but no, it was still connected. “Luis?”
“You do?” Luis asked.
“Yeah. I do. It’s always been you, chico. I’ve never been in love with anyone else.”
Another beat, and then Luis started laughing. It was the most joyous sound Darius had ever heard. Fuck. The day had been the worst kind of roller coaster, and he didn’t think he could take much more, but he’d listen to Luis laugh any day of the week, especially if it was punctuated with…
“Oh my God, Dar. My God. I love you. Shit. I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too. Really love you.”
“Fuck. Tell me again.”
“I love you, chico.”
There was another pause, a beat, and Darius knew Luis was letting this new reality settle into his heart because Darius was doing the same thing. How could any of this be real? And yet. It was. Luis Herrera actually loved him.
“I can’t wait for you to come home, chico,” Darius said.
“It’s going to be the longest flight e-fucking-ever.”
“But then you’ll be here, and I’ll be able to tell you how much I love you in person.”
“Oh my God,” Luis whispered. “You know how much shit we’re going to get from everyone?”
They both laughed, and Darius felt his world fall back into place and start to turn again.