Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
“Can you tell me about your falling out? It must have been bad if you two stopped talking to each other. You looked really close in the picture.”
Elijah grimaced, like the memory bothered him, which only made Peri more curious.
“It was my fault. He was getting into fights trying to protect me. It got so bad that a week couldn’t go by without him coming home bleeding or with new bruises.
I don’t like to handle things that way, violence is never the answer, and it upset me seeing him hurt like that.
After a particularly bad fight, I asked him to let me handle things by myself from then on.
None of my bullies were ever brave enough to touch me, too afraid I’d get into their heads, so it was only words.
I could take the comments. I didn’t want to see Hugo getting hurt anymore. ”
Peri could understand that. He wouldn’t want to see Wash hurt either. And he doubted Elijah had ever tried climbing on his back like Peri did.
“I thought he’d be happy,” Elijah continued, picking up another trinket, this one a miniature water cooler, hidden under a log that Peri pointed out.
“I couldn’t pick up much from Hugo, he’d started working on his mental shields the same week my magic came in, but the one thing I always picked up from him was anger.
He probably resented having to protect me so often.
I thought after he no longer had to step in to defend me, he’d stop fighting so much.
” Elijah shook his head, toying with the trinket as they kept walking.
“He didn’t. He got worse. At that point, he’d made enemies, and they kept causing trouble for him.
I was grateful when my parents moved him to another school.
He needed a fresh start, even if I missed him terribly. ”
Peri’s heart ached for the younger versions of Wash and Elijah. Neither had it easy.
Elijah might not have seen it, but Wash did care.
Peri had experienced that kind of treatment from Wash too, but he saw it differently.
Maybe Elijah didn’t see it like he did. He hadn’t gotten the story from Wash, but he felt like he knew him well enough to say, “I don’t think he resented you.
He cares about you. He shows that by making sure you feel safe. He does the same thing to me.”
Elijah nodded slowly. “Alistair said the same thing. He was overprotective of his brother too and would have willingly gone to war for him. He explained to me that it was a form of love, that Wash only ever wanted to have my back. I guess I was so focused on the anger, I didn’t even consider anything else. ”
The sprite popped up again, this time hovering in front of Peri’s face to stop their movements.
He guessed they were getting too close to the other group, so he gave the sprite a thumbs up and stopped for a minute.
While they did, Elijah rested his back against a tree, still fiddling with the little trinket they’d found.
Stepping closer, Peri leaned over until he could make eye contact with the telepath. He gave Elijah a soft smile, wishing he could hug the stuffing out of the man. He kept that impulse to himself. They didn’t know each other that well, and Peri didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.
“You tried to reconnect recently?” Peri prompted when Elijah went quiet.
Nodding, Elijah said, “I’ve tried asking him to join me for dinner. I want him to properly meet Alistair. I figured he’d be happy to know I was anchored and safe. He always says he’s busy.”
That didn’t surprise Peri in the slightest. Elijah’s story made it sound like he had asked Wash to stop helping him to protect him.
Peri got the feeling Wash didn’t see it that way.
His protective demon might have taken that demand as a rejection.
Elijah inadvertently asked Wash to shove aside a big part of himself, to stop showing Elijah he cared in the way he knew best. He got the feeling there was still more Wash wasn’t telling him, his walls wouldn’t be so high for just one rejection alone, but it did give them a starting point.
“I can help with getting him in the same room, but he’s stubborn. We’ll have to figure out the right thing to say to get him to open up again,” Peri pondered, tapping his chin. “Maybe we can get the four of us on a team next time? That should get him to relax a little.”
Elijah’s eyes ran over Peri’s face, and his responding smile was warm. “I’m glad he found someone like you. Even if we can’t mend bridges like I’d hoped, I want him to be happy. You make him happy.”
Beaming, Peri pulled Elijah’s hand, tugging him back on the path so they could get moving again. “Don’t give up just yet. I got him to call me his boyfriend. I can get him to talk to you, too.”
Before Elijah could reply, they heard a muffled thud and twin groans from not too far ahead of them. Peri and Elijah shared a look, worried, then hustled down the path until they found both Zephyr and Alistair on the ground, grimacing and groaning.
“What happened?” Elijah demanded, kneeling beside his anchor.
“The damn thing is too high,” Zephyr complained, pointing at where a line of trinkets sat on top of a nearby rock face. He was right that it was too high for anyone to reach. You either needed wings to get it, or to climb up the side of it. Or…
“Aren’t you a wind mage?” Peri asked, fluttering his wings so he could reach the trinkets. These were the cutest by far, little laptops with the company logo on the screen. He grabbed two, just to spare the two men more injury. “Couldn’t you have just knocked one down?”
Alistair and Zephyr shared a look, neither of them had thought of that apparently, and an amused grin slid over Elijah’s face.
“Didn’t occur to you?” he asked teasingly.
Bushes rustled, preceding Taron’s eager grin as he dragged Wash behind him. “See? I told you it was a short cut. I studied the map. The paths were parallel.”
Then, because Taron is a secret genius, he studied the puzzle of getting the trinkets with a critical eye, stepped around a bush on one side and followed a small path up to where the trinkets were sitting, snatching one and tossing it in the air, catching it with a grin.
“Four down, six to go,” he beamed. “You keeping up, Z? You know what happens if I win!”
“If you’re going to say anything about sex, I’m teleporting home,” Wash complained.
Taron waved that comment away, grabbing Wash’s sweater sleeve again to drag him away. “Don’t be such a perv. He has to do aerials with me if I win. Why is your mind in the gutter, my friend? Does it have something to do with an adorable little fairy?”
He shot Peri a wink as they passed, with Wash growling and dragging his feet the whole way. Peri giggled watching them go. His grumpy boyfriend would give in to Taron eventually. He got the feeling everyone always did.
“I swear to the gods, Taron, if you don’t stop–”
“You’re the one who refused to fly up and get it,” Taron bit back, his words tight as he tried to keep his balance with Wash standing on his shoulders. “How do you weigh this much? Are you built like a tank under all those hoodies?”
Wash rolled his eyes, stretching to reach the damn trinket they were trying to grab. There was no way Tony hid all these himself. Someone had to help him. Wash hadn’t built that prosthetic for climbing trees, and this one didn’t have any branches low enough to assist either way.
“Do you have it?” Taron gritted out.
“Not yet. Just a little–”
Taron’s foot slipped and he yelped as they both fell, Taron crumpling to the ground while Wash scraped his side along the bark of the tree, trying and failing to slow his fall. He landed beside Taron with a resounding thud, gritting his teeth against the pain.
“Shit, Hugo, are you alright?” Taron croaked, rolling onto his side to look Wash over.
Waving him away, Wash took a few minutes to breathe.
He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to climb onto Taron’s shoulders.
He’d suggested the other way around, he was more solid than Taron realized, but Taron had refused.
Like everyone else in Wash’s life, he assumed Wash’s stature meant he was weak and therefore he couldn’t be the one to lift the shapeshifter up.
Anger boiled just under his skin, and he held on to his temper by a thread, the burning pain along his side only fanning the flames.
He rolled to his feet, intent on storming away, maybe teleporting home, but Taron’s whimper made him hesitate.
He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the man still on the ground, and frowned.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Today?” Taron joked, then winced as he sat up, holding his wrist protectively against his chest.
Making an irritated noise, Wash spun around, kneeling in front of Taron so he could take a look at his wrist. It was swelling already, which wasn’t a good thing, and from the way he held back tears, Taron was feeling the pain.
“Is it broken?” he murmured, putting his hand out so Taron could show him better.
“Goddess, I hope not,” Taron replied, whimpering the minute his skin touched Wash’s palm. “Ugh, if I broke it, Zephyr will never let me forget it. He’s always telling me to be more careful.”
“You should probably listen to your mate,” Wash grumbled, then rolled his eyes when Taron pouted at him. “Don’t give me that look. I told you it wasn’t a good idea. I could’ve lifted you just fine.”
“You also could have flown up there and gotten it for us,” Taron pointed out, still pouting.
That was true, and he hated that Taron had a point. Grinding his teeth, he admitted, “I don’t… like flying around other people.”
“Why not? I’d kill to be able to fly.”
“Yeah, well, if you spent half your life being teased about it, you probably wouldn’t feel the same way,” he snapped, then swallowed the familiar rage down. It wasn’t helpful right now. “Hold on to me. I’m going to teleport you back to the resort.”
“Wait, wait! That’s the last one!” Taron insisted, pointing at the tree again. “Come on, Hugo! I’m injured!”
A frustrated growl punched out of him, but he felt bad for Taron getting hurt. He was right, Wash could have just flown and saved them both the trouble. His embarrassment got the shapeshifter hurt. The least he could do was get the damn toy down.
Shoving to his feet, he used the momentum to take off like a shot, hovering in front of the tree long enough to grab the stupid mini stapler before dropping back down again.
He handed the thing to Taron, scooping him up off the ground with no more than a grunt.
Taron yelped in surprise, but Wash teleported them back to the lobby of the retreat before he could comment, setting him down on one of the couches so he could rest while Wash requested a healer.
“Thanks. You’re not going to tell my mates, are you?” Taron asked warily.
“Depends. Would they be more pissed that you got hurt, or more pissed that you hid it from them?”
The way Taron’s face screwed up said it was the latter, and he didn’t want to admit it. Rolling his eyes, Wash pulled out his phone and texted the two men who would definitely want to know Taron was hurt, letting them know where he was and that a healer was on the way.
While they waited for Taron’s mates and the healer, Wash scrolled through his email, leaning one hip against the couch Taron was sitting on.
“Why does Peri call you Wash?” Taron asked out of nowhere.
Wash looked down at the shapeshifter, who looked a little pale, with pain lines around his eyes. He was probably trying to distract himself. Guilt twisted in Wash’s gut again, and he tucked his phone back in his pocket, crossing his arms over his chest when he admitted, “I prefer it.”
“Why?”
Letting out a sigh, he answered, “Because people used to taunt me when I was younger. They used my first name to do it. I’d rather not think about that every time someone speaks to me.”
Taron went quiet for a long moment, which was rare for him.
Wash wanted to enjoy it, but he was also incredibly uncomfortable after admitting that out loud.
The only reason he did was because he felt bad that Taron got hurt.
If he hadn’t been so unwilling to fly around other people, he would have been fine.
“Taunt you how?” Taron asked incredulously. Almost protectively. Wash felt a twinge of something, almost like warmth, but he brushed it aside, scowling at the wall.
“Hugo the imp, Keebler demon, Hugo the discount demon, a Hu-ge disappointment. You get the idea,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Taron finally answered, his voice surprisingly solemn. “If you’d prefer Wash, I’ll call you that from now on. I wouldn’t want to make my friend unhappy.”
Wash considered arguing about the friend thing, they weren’t close.
But he always said only his friends called him Wash.
Maybe it was time to accept that was what Taron was to him.
At least Taron had never said anything unkind.
And he tried, Wash would give him that. So instead of arguing, he muttered a quiet, “Thank you,” instead.