Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
EDDIE
Something woke Eddie from sleep. Some subtle change in the quarters pulled him out of a deep and dreamless Void.
He surfaced slowly, fighting with himself.
His arm was wrapped around something small and warm, and he snuggled into that until it shook him.
Eddie only slept deeply when he was exhausted.
And everything was exhausting right now.
Beside him Jett was sitting up, his eye barely glowing in the dark of the room. “The ship stopped.” His voice was flat, emotionless. Or Eddie’s brain was too tired to put in the effort to decipher it.
“What?” Eddie’s brain was fighting, racing to catch up to what Jett’s words were supposed to mean.
He wanted to bury himself back into the warmth of their covers and not think about his duties or the ship for a while longer.
They’d barely had a chance to see each other between the evacuation and the steady updates from the CDF and Quasar.
And the time they did have was spent planning or sleeping.
“I said…” Jett stalled, took a breath. Eddie could tell he was trying to reign in his own emotions. “I said that the ship stopped.”
It took Eddie another moment to register that the subtle, almost imperceptible, vibrations in everything were gone. It was unnaturally still and it took another moment for Eddie to realize what that meant.
“Oh, shit,” he said as he slid out of the bed and headed for the tab in the wall.
The lights came on slowly as they moved around the room, trying not the blind them.
“Room-to-Bridge call,” Eddie said and waited.
He looked behind him, saw Jett pulling stuff out of the wardrobe, then looked back as the tab chimed.
It had timed out. No one on the Bridge picked up his call.
Eddie sighed and started again. “Bridge, this is the Captain, please respond.” The tab chimed again, after a longer pause.
Eddie turned to Jett, who was staring.
“I was afraid this would happen,” Jett commented as he pulled on his boots, fingers stalling on the ties.
“Put anything you want to keep in the duffle. I’m not sure we’ll be coming back here once we leave.
” Jett’s words were heavy, his voice deeper than usual.
He turned his full attention back to his shoes.
Eddie nodded and crossed to the wardrobe, pulled out several days’ worth of clothing for both of them, threw them into the bag.
He grabbed a uniform for today, however long the day would last, and put it on the bed.
Eddie’s hands shook as he grabbed the rest of their stuff: the physical hard drive from his desk tab, Jett’s e-reader and favorite blanket, the meds to aid Jett’s healing and sleep.
There wasn’t much else. It was sad and strange how empty their quarters were after the years they’d been together.
Neither of them had much from before they joined the Neo-Tokyo.
There weren’t many physical mementos of their relationship.
Most of their relationship was summed up in pictures and texts, in memories of their lips and hands on each other, the times they’d laughed and cried together.
Time dulled remembrances and left Eddie melancholy, wishing he had something more to remember them.
Something more to remember the ship, their home.
Fear had steadily churned in Eddie’s guts since he’d taken over the Neo-Tokyo.
The districts were sealed off from each other and in the days since, the Affected had grown in numbers.
They were losing people by the thousands every hour.
Losing them to this sickness, disappearing from their homes, under the noses of their families.
No one had any better ideas than they’d already come up with: quarantine and evacuation.
Eddie’s hands shook as he pulled off his dirty clothes, his thoughts far away from what he was doing. Stripped down to his bare skin, he couldn’t contain the shaking, the shivers, the panic that his thoughts inspired.
“Stop.” Jett stood before him. Eddie looked down, where Jett’s eye burned too bright and his hands held him too tight.
Jett was dressed now in his usual head-to-toe black, light reflected off the silver pendant he’d grabbed from Adonis Mox on the Golden Lion. Eddie didn’t remember when he started wearing it, but it looked and felt right for Jett to have it, for reasons that he couldn’t explain. He was so beautiful.
“Breathe, Eddie,” Jett said, his voice still soft, soothing.
Eddie took two deep breaths, blew them out his nose, and felt the panic that had taken over him recede. His shoulders slumped and he uncoiled.
“Good.” Jett relaxed too. “We need to remain calm, for each other.” Jett leaned up, hands pressed against his chest and kissed him. It was light and did more to bring Eddie back to himself than any words ever could. “And for everyone else. They are depending on us.”
Eddie nodded, feeling his neck creak as he did. He was still so tired, not even the man against him could rouse him fully. “I will do my best.”
Another kiss, more desperate this time. Then Jett ripped away from him, out of his arms. Eddie felt that loss and knew it was necessary; they both had work to do now.
“I know you will, Ed. You always do your best. Now get dressed. I’ll get the rest of our stuff.”
Eddie wanted to take the man back into his arms, to press him against the wall, kiss him until there was nothing left on either of their minds. But that wasn’t an option, so he turned to the bed and pulled on his waiting uniform.
“I’ve alerted everyone. Hopefully they all wake up,” Jett told him, his voice oddly hollow and distant. “Can you grab my armor when you’re done? The bag is in the top of the wardrobe.”
Eddie found a flat black bag where Jett told him to look, alongside a plastic box battered with age. The armor bag wasn’t as heavy as he expected, but it was different than the armor from before.
When Eddie turned, Jett stood at the foot of the bed with two rifles, his pistol, and knife waiting on the covers.
Eddie noticed then that the small man’s clothing hugged his body closer than normal, closer than he knew Jett liked it normally.
His collarbones stood out under his black, long-sleeved shirt and Eddie could clearly see the muscles of his legs and arms.
Jett’s mouth pressed into a fine line as he unzipped the bag and rolled it open over top the weapons.
Light glinted off black metal, the segmented armor plates waiting to be wrapped around Jett’s lithe form.
One pale hand reached down, fingertips grazing across the surface.
Jett seemed hesitant. His eyes focused and unfocused as his fingers moved back and forth across the metal, a soft scraping sound filled the room.
Eddie stepped up beside Jett. “Let me,” he whispered against the other man’s neck, his hand on Jett’s hip.
Jett turned and looked at him and then down at the armor.
They stood in silence, Eddie’s fingers rubbing against Jett’s hip bone, Jett staring down at his armor. A curt nod was his only response.
Jett stepped to the middle of the room and stood there, arms crossed, legs separated.
Eddie turned to the case, to the plates.
They were different lengths, grouped together in twos.
He pulled out one that appeared to be the length of Jett’s lower leg.
It was lighter than he expected and the joints moved freely between his hands.
Jett looked at the piece for a second, shifted his weight to his left leg, held out his right.
Eddie knelt down before him, feeling the air shift as he wrapped the metal around Jett’s calf, adjusted it so it fit perfectly.
The magnetic closure clicked into place.
The piece hugged his leg like a second skin, clung to the curves and divots of his beautifully scarred flesh.
It was strangely intimate wrapping that armor around Jett.
Intimate in a way that Eddie hadn’t known they were missing.
It was so different from when they passionately pressed their bodies together, words caught in their throats.
Eddie wanted to place soft kisses against the hard muscle and soft flesh before strapping the armor pieces on, but he couldn’t.
So he pressed his lips to the armor itself and willed the metal to keep Jett safe.
He looked up at Jett, met those dark eyes.
Neither said anything as Eddie continued, taking cues from Jett when he presented a piece for inspection.
Something electric tingled in Eddie’s hands as he placed the plates on the other calf.
A belt went over Jett’s waist, his pistol and knife holstered to straps that hugged his thighs.
Eddie’s hands shook as he moved on to Jett’s knees, his thighs.
Eddie slowly encased his lover, his most beloved, in armor and prayed to the Astral Gods, to the Void, to the Song, that he would survive whatever was to come.
Eddie stood and stretched his back and shoulders while Jett watched him.
He continued, moving to Jett’s upper arms, letting him adjust his sleeves between each piece.
Eddie pressed a kiss to each wrist, allowing them those small touches.
His lips brushed over the faint scars of Jett’s distant self-harm injuries and the deeper ones from his torture.
All the while, Jett watched him, eye glowing bright in the low light of the room, faint color high on his cheeks.
Eddie hoped Jett felt the intent behind his actions, the love and devotion that he was trying to convey through this act of worship.
The torso pieces were the largest, the most complex. They slipped over Jett’s head and attached at both sides, covering his chest and leaving his stomach uncovered to allow easy movement. And injury.
And when he was done, Eddie stepped back.
Jett’s skin was made pale by the all-black clothing and armor, the low light of the room.
His slicked back hair highlighted the delicate lines of his face, the scar across his lips and cheek.
There was a hardness under his beauty that had grown over time, with age, with responsibility.
It had settled on him in the months since Ganymede, yet had not marred him.
It added to his grace. Jett was still beautiful, still deadly.
No one, least of all Eddie, deserved Jett’s love, but he would try.
Jett was more than worthy of the devotion that Eddie kept in the dark corners of his corrupted heart.
He didn’t know how to speak the words aloud, to let Jett know how he truly felt, but arming Jett had felt as close to worship as anything Eddie had ever experienced.
He hoped to never do it again, but he would without pause, without thought. He owed that to Jett.
Eddie watched as Jett seated the knife and pistol in their places on his legs.
He twisted and stretched, looked down at himself and then back up.
“You did good, Ed.” His voice was a whisper, almost lost in the rush of air and the buzz flitting below the floor.
The praise settled on Eddie like a kiss, sweet and gentle, making his cheeks flush.
They looked at each other for a long moment. Eddie felt his throat constrict, the collar of his uniform tight against his skin. Jett broke the eye contact and crossed over to the wardrobe, reached into the top and pulled out the other box that Eddie had seen.
“Catch,” Jett said as he tossed it over.
“What’s this?” The box clattered in his hands, the lid falling open.
Inside was a small collection of items: a bag of tiny computer chips, a badge, a half-crumbling leaf, a rose petal preserved in resin, three holo-cards.
Eddie brushed his hand over the rose petal, remembering when he’d plucked it from that first red rose, had it preserved so they had something to remember that day forever.
The leaf and the holo-cards were familiar to him—he’d been there when they were acquired—but the rest were unknown.
“Leftovers,” was the response. Jett moved to the bathroom, gathered up their toiletries and tossed them in the bag.
Eddie looked back at the items, remembered the story of Jett losing his squad.
The way Jett had lost Gin. The items were relics of his past, memories that he kept in this box, probably so he would never forget.
Eddie closed the box and slipped it into the bag along with everything else. He would keep it safe for Jett.
Eddie looked around the room, his eyes wandering over the little objects they were leaving behind, the cups they drank from, the pillows they’d slept on, the blankets that were not deemed the best, the clothing that would be replaced.
Eddie turned to Jett. He stood at the foot of the bed, rifle in his hands.
“Is it time?” Eddie didn’t want to leave. Everything would be different from now on. Nothing would ever be the same.
Jett nodded to the other rifle, larger than the one he carried. “This is for you.”
Eddie slung the duffle over his back and picked up the rifle, fingering the smooth metal in his hands.
It’d been more than a year since the last time Jett dragged him to the Range to ensure that Eddie still knew one end from the other and could fire in the right direction if necessary.
Eddie checked the battery and made sure the safety was engaged, just as Jett had battered into him over the years.
Jett stood by the door, waiting for him. “Stay behind me, keep an eye and ear on your back and tell me if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”
Eddie nodded, crossed the distance between them. He looked around one last time at their quarters, their home, saying his silent goodbyes. “Let’s go.”