The High Place (2/2) - Bandom, R, Brendon/Spencer.
Part one | Master post
The nice thing about leaving Manticore? Choosing your own sleep schedule. When Brendon's eyes fluttered open the next day, it was sunset, and he never would've gotten away with that before. Their curtains blocked out the light pretty well, especially when the sky was as clouded over as usual, but the silvers of orange glowing on the walls were a pretty good indicator to wake up.
Brendon sat up with a yawn and paused. It turned out the light also illuminated Spencer on the bed across from him. He was smiling a little in his sleep, and if he woke him up, he could see the way the sun would make his eyes glow.
Fuck, Spencer was fucking beautiful. And he liked Brendon.
Brendon took a minute to hug his pillow in delight before climbing quietly out of bed and padding down to the kitchen. He could hear something on the TV in the living room, so after grabbing his bowl of chocolate sugar clusters, it was a no-brainer to head in that direction.
Ian was on the main couch and playing some kind of nature program on the TV. He was also scratching behind his ear pretty vigorously with his foot, and Brendon didn't need any seasoning for his cereal, so he sat in a chair nearby.
"Hey," Ian said after Brendon ate a couple bites, lowering his leg. "Gerard was looking for you."
"Yeah?"
Ian nodded. "Down in the basement."
Which meant work. Cool. Brendon grinned with cheeks stuffed with cereal, and Ian grimaced away. "Just go before I puke," he said.
If Brendon wasn't in such a good mood, he might mash the cereal in his mouth a little more and stick out his tongue. Luckily for Ian, he was happy enough to swallow first. Ian sneered back and went back to scratching.
Brendon set his cereal on the coffee table and jogged over to the basement door. The little button to bring up the retinal scanner and the speaker was as easy as ever to find, and when his eye turned up okay, Gerard's voice asked, "Who's there?"
"Brendon. Ian said you were looking for me?"
The door slid open, and Brendon jumped forward before it closed two seconds later. Gerard never liked keeping things open for long.
The basement didn't look much like a basement, or the basements Brendon saw in films at Manticore, anyway. There were real walls and paint and carpet just as nice as anything upstairs. The only difference between the basement and the other rooms were the tiny windows at the top of the far wall, which were, of course, locked and plastered over for security reasons.
When Brendon bounced down the stairs, he saw Gerard was only illuminated by green light from his computer monitors. Actually, that was how the whole place was lit up. Kind of creepy.
"Yo," Brendon said.
Gerard waved a hand. Brendon leaned over and peeked at the monitors, watching as blurry night-vision footage ran. If he couldn't see much with better vision, it was no wonder Gerard was hunched over.
"You have work?"
Gerard moved the mouse until a bar appeared, and when he dragged a button to the left, the footage moved back in time. "Look."
Brendon leaned in closer as Gerard pressed play. He could kind of make out a sidewalk, and a guy with an umbrella walking. Well, until said guy got jumped by...a blur. It wasn't until it slowed that Brendon could see two heads, which narrowed things down.
"I've never seen a Nomalie like that before," Brendon said, squinting.
On the screen, the Nomalie was clawing at the man, who was trying to beat his attacker with an umbrella. It wasn't working. It was only when other people showed up that the Nomalie blurred and disappeared again.
"Fuck." Brendon eased back. "Everyone always talked about violent Nomalies, but the ones I met were always really nice."
Gerard swiveled his chair away from the computer. "See, that's the weird part. He's one of Jamia's finds. He even registered with Pete three weeks ago."
"Really?"
"And it's not the first one, either. We got a verbal report like this on Sunday, but Mikey figured it was just a bad call on Brian's part. Or a one-time thing."
"And this isn't?"
Gerard leaned back in his chair. His eyes were puffy, so Pete probably woke him up hours ago. "Don't think so. But we're going to get intel before we're sure."
"I can do intel."
But Gerard shook his head quickly. "We've got this covered. I just wanted to see if you'd run into this in Manticore."
"I didn't." Brendon frowned. "But Spencer and I can find someone who knows something. You know that."
Gerard blinked a couple times. "Did you talk to Spencer? About what we talked about?"
"What we..." Brendon wasn't going to blush. He was a soldier. Or a spy. Or whatever. "Oh. Uh, yeah."
"And it went okay?"
"It was a start." Definitely a start. A very sexy start.
Gerard laughed. Brendon rubbed at his cheeks a little, but it wasn't enough to get the blushing to stop, unfortunately.
"So take the night off," Gerard said. "It's like you said at the club. You guys have been working your non-existent tails off. You need downtime more than I do."
Brendon wasn't so sure about that - Gerard looked like he could nod off on top of his desk - but the guy could be stubborn when he wanted to be. And Brendon definitely wouldn't say no to another night with Spencer. "You'll call if something changes?"
"You'll be the first to hear. Now go get laid."
Brendon blushed some more. Gerard giggled.
Evil bastard.
-
The inside of the High Place was really fucking trashed. It wasn't like Brendon hadn't noticed before, but while he unfolded the blankets he'd carried up in a backpack, his boots crunched down broken glass and bits of metal. A broom would work better than kicking the crud away, but whatever, it wasn't like he'd thought to bring one of those up with him.
"They really gave us the night off?" Spencer asked, pulling a shiny metal tube out of his own backpack.
"They really did. What the hell is that?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow as he screwed the top open. "Dude, we used these to carry water at Manticore. You don't remember?"
"I remember." It had kept everything chilled, which would've been nice if they hadn't been training in the snow more often than not. But judging by the way the top steamed as he poured water into cups, that wasn't the point. "Why'd you bring it?"
"Because you sounded really hoarse after we smoked up last time." Spencer pulled a couple of silver spheres out of a sandwich bag and stuck them in the cups.
Brendon blinked.
"It's hot water. We can use the catnip for tea, once it steeps. Should be a lot nicer on your throat."
"Oh." And he was blushing again. Whatever, Spencer was fucking romantic as shit. Brendon could go with it. "I think I need to stick my tongue down your throat now."
Spencer laughed, crinkling his nose. "Sexy."
But he shifted away from the tea and his backpack and slid next to Brendon. His pupils were huge, which, yay, good sign. Brendon sighed as Spencer cupped his cheek in a hand, and a chill danced along Brendon's skin that had nothing to do with the air coming through the broken windows. At least it wasn't too windy. He could deal with the drops of water making his arms moist if he didn't have to worry about falling to his death on his way up.
Of course, when Spencer moved his hand into Brendon's hair, and Brendon's skin seemed to heat even more, it was hard not to worry he'd steam up or something. But Spencer pulled Brendon closer, and touching their lips together again was enough to quiet his head.
It was totally obvious Spencer knew what he was doing. He tugged Brendon's head back by the hair gently, dragging his teeth over Brendon's lower lip. As Spencer slid the tip of his tongue in Brendon's mouth, a shock ran through Brendon, and he shivered. It'd be great if he could make Spencer shiver, too.
He sucked on Spencer's tongue as Brendon slid his hips closer. He wanted to get more of the taste from Spencer's mouth, but when Spencer groaned and moved his free hand to the small of Brendon's back, he did it again. Spencer held Brendon tighter, fingers digging into his skin. Brendon didn't want to move, but the fact that Spencer was purposely keeping Brendon still - or the idea of it, since Brendon had the strength to get back if he wanted - was kind of the best thing ever.
What was really weird was that Brendon wasn't tense anymore. He didn't necessarily want to calm down; the anticipation had made him want to hump the hell out of something, and making out with Spencer wasn't something that should've eased that. But the more they kissed, and the more turned on he got, the more he loosened up. Really, if Brendon got any more relaxed, he'd turn into a puddle.
Of course, it was only when the flush in his cheeks started to have more interesting effects lower in his body that Spencer broke away, panting quietly. His lips were shiny and red, too. Sweet.
"Geez, Spence. You're..."
Spencer's smile looked forced. Like he wasn't nearly as puddle-ready as Brendon. Brendon frowned. "You okay?"
Spencer nodded hard. He totally sucked at lying sometimes. "I'm just...we can try the tea, right? You don't mind?"
"Why would I mind?" He slid a hand on Spencer's arm. "Whatever you want."
Spencer grinned and laid a peck on Brendon's mouth. He crawled over to the tea again.
"But, uh." Bad idea. It was totally a bad idea. "You want to tell me about it?"
"Rather not. I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." It came out a little strong, but at least Spencer didn't look pissed. A little flustered, maybe, but Brendon could work with that.
While Spencer lifted up the cups and set them down in front of Brendon, Brendon jiggled his foot. Communication was good, but it only worked both ways. Or something. That was the fuzzy part of Gerard's lecture. Brendon had been more focused on the kissing and the boners.
It was probably overkill, but as Spencer bobbed the silver balls and not-clear liquid sluiced through, Brendon said, "If you ever need to talk, you can, dude."
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Like I didn't know that."
But he nudged Brendon before handing over a cup. Brendon smirked and took a sip.
-
It turned out catnip tea was really fucking awesome.
The last time they'd gotten stoned, Brendon had practically crawled his way back through the deserted city streets, even after sleeping off a lot of the high. This time, he was walking upright with a straight back. He'd even climbed down the Space Needle without flipping out. It was a total incognito high.
"You can go faster than that," Spencer said with mock severity. Then he giggled and leaned against a trash can.
Maybe it wasn't as incognito as Brendon had hoped.
"This is a good speed. Easy." Brendon blinked hard. His eyes and throat were totally normal, and his clothes probably didn't smell much. Spencer was a genius. "I walked way too fast the last time we did this."
"That's because you were running super speed and tripping over your feet."
"Oh." He walked slightly faster, and sure enough, it didn't feel too wild. "Whoa."
"See?"
"Thanks, Mr. Know-it-All."
He kissed Spencer on the cheek and bounced down the sidewalk. But when he twirled in place, he saw the way Spencer touched the spot Brendon had laid his lips upon, looking vaguely awed.
-
Mikey and Frank were taking up the couches when Brendon came downstairs the next day. It didn't look like their normal snuggling. As Brendon watched, Mikey pulled away a washcloth stained with blood, and Frank hissed. Not cuddling, then.
"Dude," Brendon said, padding over in his bare feet. "What the hell?"
"It's nothing," Frank said.
"He went out with some of the other X5s." Mikey wrung out the washcloth in a bowl of water, and a little dripped on the floor. Brendon watched the dot spread on the carpet. He never would've gotten away with being that messy in Manticore. "He took Jamia and Lindsay and Janelle."
Brendon tilted his head. "They're a good group."
"I know." Mikey scowled at Frank. "Which is why he shouldn't have ditched them."
Frank batted his eyelashes. Mikey just crossed his arms in response, so Frank turned to Brendon and tried it on him. Brendon was a little too busy staring at the gash on Frank's forehead to play along.
"Just a scratch," Frank said, dropping the act with a sigh. "It'll heal."
"So you ran into the Nomalies?"
"They ran into me, more like. With their fists." He turned back, and Mikey leaned in to clean off more dried blood around the wound. "I'll get them back tonight."
Mikey raised an eyebrow. "If..."
"If I actually stick around with my backup. If the bruises on my ribs weren't a clue, I learned my fucking lesson."
"I'll go with you." Spencer probably would, too - Brendon was mostly sure Spencer would be pissed if he got left behind - but it was better if Spencer said that on his own. "You wouldn't shake me off, would you?"
"Of course not," Frank said solemnly. He snickered when Mikey smacked his arm. "I'll let you know if I'm going to ditch you, how's that?"
Brendon sighed and shared a pained look with Mikey. It would have to work.
-
The solidity of Frank's promises didn't end up mattering when they went out. The Nomalies were nowhere to be found.
"Guess they went to ground," said Spencer, who of course, came along. He was perched at the edge of the building like it was nothing. "They did that to us before they heard we wanted to help."
Next to Spencer, Frank scowled. He was on the edge, too...and okay, so was Brendon. Brendon was just a little more tense about it. "Except they were attacking people."
"Not all of them," Brendon said. "Most of them aren't."
Frank stepped back. He ran a finger over the stitches he'd gotten earlier; the gash already looked almost healed. "Guess I should head to the studio so tonight isn't a complete waste of time. What about you two?"
Brendon caught Spencer's eye and grinned when Spencer waggled his eyebrows. "I think we're going to blow off some steam."
"Just don't get arrested." Of course Frank was completely serious, but there was a note in his voice that said, please do. Like he'd be proud.
Spencer saluted. The move was a sloppy mockery of their time in Manticore, but there was still something precise about it. Brendon knew it wasn't easy to shake a lifetime's training, after all.
Frank saluted back, sloppy enough that it'd be easy to believe he'd never been in Manticore, and dropped to climb down the drainpipe.
-
It was getting to the point where just seeing the High Place in the distance was enough to give Brendon a partial boner. And that was before they were sprawled on their blankets again and Spencer let Brendon's hands drift down to his ass. Really, the whole situation was almost miraculous and perfect enough for Brendon to reconsider his atheism. Almost.
But the second Brendon's hand started to creep around Spencer's hip, Spencer pulled back.
"Sorry," Brendon said. "You okay?"
Spencer's hand shook a little as he brought it up to his hair. Fuck. Spencer had said slow; why had Brendon pushed it? "Yeah. I'm fine."
Brendon didn't think he needed to repeat the whole "you can talk to me" speech. And considering Spencer was hunched in on himself a little, Brendon definitely wasn't going to touch him until Spencer gave the all-clear. But it didn't leave a lot of options for Brendon until Spencer said something. He settled for rubbing his palms over his jeans and willing his hard-on to go down.
"You're not...you're not mad, are you?"
Brendon froze. "Why would I be mad?"
"Because. Because I'm not." Spencer swallowed.
Brendon shook his head. "Exact opposite of mad, dude. You're amazing."
"I...what?"
Brendon had kind of been hoping to get a smile, so the look of confusion on Spencer's face was a little out of nowhere. Brendon could work with it, though. "You're ridiculously hot, and you let me touch you sometimes. I'm fucking lucky, dude."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. It's fine."
"I..." Spencer exhaled. "You remember when you were in Psy-Ops because you'd disobeyed orders?"
Brendon grinned. "Which time?"
"The first time."
Brendon chuckled quietly. He probably shouldn't. The mind control shit they did to other people sucked ass, but Brendon had a natural immunity to that kind of thing, so he'd play along as much as he'd felt like and then pretend it wore off. He'd avoided a lot of missions that way.
"That was..." The laughter died in Brendon's throat. "Your first mission."
Spencer had gone into Psy-Ops right after Brendon had left. It hadn't worked on him, either - he and Brendon and Ryan and Brent were the last in their generation, and they'd had extra tinkering - but that hadn't been a good thing. The others came out of Psy-Ops with their old missions wiped from their minds, but Spencer had come back stony-faced and quieter than usual. There were even a couple of nights where Brendon had heard him crying, Spencer never cried.
The last thing Brendon would ever do was force him into talking, but it hadn't stopped him from wondering.
"It wasn't as bad as it could've been." Brendon knew who Spencer was thinking about: Brent. He hadn't come back from his first mission, and he was far from the only one. "They didn't want a kill. They just wanted information, and I had to...stay close."
Brendon's throat tightened up. "Spence."
"Really close," Spencer said, like he couldn't hear Brendon. Judging by the way he stared at the floor near Brendon's knees, he probably didn't. "Or I'd blow my cover."
X5s healed fast. But Spencer had come back from Psy-Ops with bruises all over his face, most of them still dark and ugly. Brendon had always figured he'd fought his way out of his mission.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
It was Spencer's turn to laugh, and there was a genuine sound to it, but it was also awkward and forced. "Killed the mood, didn't I?"
He didn't want pity. Brendon wouldn't either. "We can still drink some tea."
"Fuck yes."
-
The roof the next day was solid, nearly flat. Brendon's shoes gripped it well, even when he put on X5 speed and ran from one end to the other. The only way the situation could be better is if they were on the ground.
He hadn't expected to be in Sector 5. Sector 5, to everyone's knowledge, was mostly filled with humans. Gerard had looked surprised when he'd shared Brian's report about activity there, and maybe even a little guilty.
"Brian said the officers in his unit have been tracking gang activity," Gerard had said. "It'd make sense if whoever was controlling the Nomalies used that as a way to slip under the radar."
The presence of gangs explained the intermittent gunfire Brendon was hearing. It was extra good to have solid roofing to climb around on.
Spencer was already waiting on the other side as Brendon skidded to a stop. They were perched over an open window, and if they could slide in, maybe they could get to anyone squatting inside. But they had to wait for the signal from Frank and Ray, who were circling on the ground.
They both flinched down as gunfire sounded again. Brendon even thought he saw flashes of light out of the corner of his eye, like it was in one of the alleys nearby.
Spencer bumped the mic in his collar. "We have a positive yet? Over."
There was only static. It was pretty common in Sector 5; it was the place in Seattle that supposedly took the most technological damage after the Pulse. Most of the interference came from broken machines that no one bothered to power down or fix.
"Damn it." Spencer bumped the mic again to keep the feedback from getting too loud. "I can't see a thing. You?"
Brendon peered down. "Yeah, see there? That looks like them."
He pointed at a couple of shadowy figures running around to the front door. Spencer waved down at them, and they waved back. Brendon could barely make out the hand signal that told them to hold their position, but he was pretty sure that's what they were doing.
"I think we're supposed to stay put," he said. He looked around the roof again. There was an access door. "Maybe we should watch the exit?"
Spencer shrugged. "Good as anything, I guess."
Brendon had just turned around when someone shouted, and more gunfire went off. He ducked down by the roof's lip, and Spencer was only seconds behind.
"Is this really what gangs are supposed to sound like?" Spencer said, half-yelling over the popping noises.
"I don't know!"
There was a loud noise from the sector gate, and they both jerked their heads to look up in that direction. Cop cars swarmed at the border, and as people grouped on the other side, the door was closing fast. Brendon could see flashes of light from inside the sector.
Spencer started crawling toward the access door; there were still enough bullets flying, even if most of them had moved out of range, that it was a bad idea to be upright. Brendon swallowed hard and went after him.
A large thumping noise started halfway to their destination. When Brendon looked over his shoulder back at the sector gate, it was closed and illuminated by spotlights. It was impossible to tell what it all meant.
"B!"
Spencer was at the door, crouched, reaching for the handle. But the door swung open as he waved for Brendon, and it hit him in the back of the head just as a dark figure came out. Brendon jumped to his feet as Spencer fell forward.
The dark figure growled, and Brendon froze. A Nomalie.
It happened fast from there. The kind of fast where Brendon's brain snapped every frame, like his brain was a camera.
The Nomalie - who wore a cap and a bulky jacket, but had some kind of tail swishing behind - rushed forward. To where Spencer was sprawled. Brendon was already running in front of the Nomalie, ready to get the jump on it...except it flanked to the side when it saw Brendon coming, and Brendon leapt to grab for him. He barely dug his fingers in his jacket before he realized, hey, the Nomalie was trying to jump for the opposite roof, and they were both tumbling, tripping over the ledge, falling down over the side of the building.
Brendon counted the stories of the building as he fell.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
And then everything went black.
-
"Wake up!"
Brendon groaned, but he opened his eyes. Spencer was standing over him, pale to the roots of his shorn hair, wringing his hands.
"You'll wake the others," Brendon said in a whisper. It was a good thing he could still hear the rest of the X5s in the room breathing deeply. It wouldn't be a good time for them to get in trouble.
"But Ryan."
"What about him?"
Spencer grabbed Brendon's arm. It was all Brendon could do to keep from falling on his face as he stumbled out of bed.
"I heard one of the guard's comms," Spencer said, dragging Brendon toward the loose window. "They've got Ryan in Psy-Ops for now, but they're moving him."
"To another room?"
"No. Another facility."
Brendon scrambled to get everything on the window loose. Spencer's breath was hitching, like he was crying quietly, but Brendon couldn't take the time to make sure. Spencer wouldn't want him to, anyway.
They made it out to the roof. It was cold in the middle of January, and icy, so Brendon skidded more often than he walked. He had to jam his hands under his armpits to keep them warm, but at least he knew from training that he wouldn't lose anything important unless he was out here for days.
"There!" Spencer pointed toward the main gate, and Brendon could see a line of thin, nearly bald X5s their age filing into a truck. He focused his vision.
Ryan was at the end of the line.
"What...what should we do?" Brendon asked, shaking a little with the cold.
"Get him!"
"But after that. They'll find out. We'll have to leave."
"I know." Spencer's eyes filled with tears. Brendon couldn't say no to that.
He ran.
Brendon knew the paths better than Spencer - he'd been practicing for years with Frank - so he made better time. He crawled past his usual hiding spot so the guard tower wouldn't see him, and he flat out ran to the blind spot that led to a dead power line. Skimming on the line would bring him to a pipe across to the main building, and he could drop to the ground from there. He could grab Ryan's arm and go for the fence, maybe out the front door if the truck driver had left it open. From there...
He got to his feet to jump for the power line. But as soon as he swung his arms once, his foot slipped. He didn't have the momentum to make the line, and there was nothing to grab as he slipped off the roof. Nothing but the gutter.
A gasp escaped Brendon's mouth as his hands curled around the metal. His body slapped against the building, and he flinched. That was loud enough to hear. They'd get him.
Spencer skidded to a stop over him.
"Go!" Brendon whispered, hands shaking. It was a six-story drop from here. If he'd made it to the pipe, that was two. He could've survived two stories. "The power line will get you down."
"Take my hand." Spencer lowered his arm.
Brendon glanced over. No guards were looking at them because only two kids were left. One of them was Ryan.
"There's no time!" he gasped, trying to get his elbow over the gutter for leverage. It didn't work.
Spencer's fingers stopped right next to Brendon's right hand.
"Go!" Brendon said again. His left hand was starting to slip. He watched his feet dangling over darkness; he couldn't bring himself to adjust to see how far the bottom was. The fall would probably be fast, at least.
"Brendon."
He kicked for the wall. There were no windowsills to balance on, no cracks to brace with. If one hand lost its grip, that would be it.
"Brendon, look at me."
He did. Up and up, into Spencer's steady blue eyes. They were completely dry.
"Grab on," Spencer said. "Come on."
Brendon took a breath. "I'm scared."
"I know. But I'll get you. I promise."
Brendon gritted his teeth, and he threw his right hand up. His left hand slipped completely, and...
...Spencer grabbed his wrist. He braced himself on the roof, pulling Brendon up to meet him easily. He even wrapped his arm around Brendon's waist to keep them from falling over and braced him on vents nearby.
When Brendon could breathe enough to look back over his shoulder, the truck was already making its way out the road. There was no way they'd have enough time to catch up before someone found them.
He stifled a sob. "I'm sorry."
Spencer smiled, brushing a hand over Brendon's buzzed hair. It was a sad smile. "It's not your fault."
They stayed on the roof for another hour after that, making their way back slowly. Brendon shook every time he came near the edge. It was only when they made it to their normal resting spot that Brendon started to cry, and it was Spencer who held him.
Spencer, who'd just lost his best friend in the world, spent the rest of the night comforting Brendon. He never asked for anything back.
-
"-you hear me?"
"Mmm?" Brendon said. He snaked his arms around himself, even though it didn't feel cold. It should've felt cold, shouldn't it? The roof was cold in mid-January, and-
Someone pried open his eyelid and shined a light in. Brendon flinched away, but the hand pulled open his other eyelid and did it again.
"Ow," Brendon said. And then the pain in his head radiated. "Ow."
He forced his eyes open again. In the darkness, holding his wrist to check his pulse, was none other than Dallon. Brendon gaped at him as Dallon drew his fingers back and carefully twisted Brendon's left wrist back and forth.
"Does that hurt?" Dallon asked.
Brendon shook his head, and wow, was that a mistake. The room swum around him. "Fuck."
"Just stick to verbal responses, I guess." He picked up Brendon's other wrist, and yeah, that fucking hurt. Dallon nodded absently at Brendon's noise of pain and made a note on his computer.
"Where did you come from?" Brendon asked. "I thought..."
"I was dead? Nah." Dallon was actually smiling a little. Weird. "Got friends in talented places."
"But Pedicone-"
"Tried to steal something from Frank last time he was here, if what Mikey told me was right."
"Did he?" Brendon shifted up a little and immediately regretted it. "Did Spencer..."
"Take it easy. Spencer's just outside. He was trying to get your backup generator working." Dallon cleared his throat and said loudly, "He's awake."
The door slammed open and Spencer's pale, wide-eyed face appeared. Brendon grinned.
"I should kick your ass," Spencer said in a low voice.
"Hello to you, too."
"Don't kick his ass yet." Dallon took off a pair of rubber gloves and tucked them in his pocket instead of throwing them in the trash. Probably because, as far as Brendon could see, they were in his and Spencer's bedroom. He couldn't remember getting back. "He'll need a night's rest to heal the neck injury the rest of the way, and a day or two on the leg."
"Leg?" Brendon glanced down. Sure enough, it was wrapped in a splint. He leaned back against his pillows with a groan.
But just when he was really about to kick up a fuss, a golden light filled the room, and electronics throughout the house whirred to life. Dallon smiled. "Good timing. I was just wondering if Gerard would let me test the blood sample I took, but if the power was out..."
"Eyes Only's generators always work during sector blackouts, but yeah." Spencer held up a finger. "I should make sure Frank's not in the house."
"Right," Dallon said with a sigh. Frank wasn't his biggest fan. Which was ridiculous because Dallon did a fuckload of work making sure Brendon and Spencer stayed in contact with Frank after his first break-out. Frank just got cranky sometimes.
As Spencer ducked downstairs, Dallon rolled his head on his neck. "Sorry to say it, but..."
"Bed rest?"
Dallon nodded and smiled wryly when Brendon grimaced. He'd seen firsthand before how much Brendon hated those words. "Bed rest."
Brendon sighed dramatically. "So much for my skateboarding career."
"If you hadn't landed on trash, you'd need more than a few days to heal." Dallon snorted. "Heck, be glad you're not human. If I took a fall like you did, I'd be a splatter on pavement."
"A well-dressed one."
Dallon adjusted his bow tie. "Can't deny that."
The door cracked open, and Spencer slipped back inside. "Frank's out, probably until dawn. Gerard's waiting for you."
"Thanks, man." He clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "The blood work's just backup, okay?"
Spencer nodded curtly, and Dallon patted his arm once before walking out and closing the door.
"You're going to wait on me," Brendon said, lacing his fingers together. "What's the phrase? Hand and foot? I definitely need a foot. My poor, poor-"
He cut off as Spencer leaned in and kissed him. Brendon's head spun, but it wasn't the injuries. Probably. Either way, he closed his eyes and kissed back.
"Don't do that shit." Spencer pulled back his lips enough to talk, but he started laying light kisses on Brendon's jaw, so the lecture obviously wasn't that important to him. "Just don't."
"Yeah. You'll lose your tea buddy." Brendon sighed. "And just when I was thinking about bringing doilies, too."
His breathless voice kind of ruined the joke, but Spencer paused. "Is that all I am to you?"
Brendon sat up quickly to protest, but everything went really wobbly, and he actually had to bend over and barf. Luckily, there was a trash can right next to his bed, so he didn't get the floor disgusting. Much.
Spencer rubbed his back until he sat up again. "Take it easy."
"Right," Brendon said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fell off a building. Think I'd remember that."
Spencer rolled his eyes.
"And no, to answer your question." Brendon bit his lip. "I'm actually kind of in love with you."
It was shitty timing as far as life-changing declarations went, but he'd loved Spencer since he saw him eat the bread Brendon had saved. It was obvious, thinking back. No reason to waste more time.
Spencer, to Brendon's relief, smiled back. "Good. Because I thought you were dead earlier, and I don't think I could take my heart getting crushed on top of that."
"Please. Like a building fall could kill me." Fucking roofs. He'd never be a fan. "Even if, uh, there was a riot or something."
"Gangs took over Sector 5, so pretty much."
"Wow. Getting out must've been an adventure."
Spencer smirked. "You have no idea. But we got the Nomalie."
"Seriously?"
"Gerard had some of his sources run tests while you were out. Looks like Manticore was dosing them. He's working on an antidote right now."
Brendon grinned. If he had to fall off a building, there were worse outcomes.
"So I have a question," he said, shifting on his pillow, "and if this is too much, say so."
"Okay."
"Why don't we push our beds together?" Brendon pointed the few feet between their twins. Spencer stiffened, so Brendon said quickly, "I'm not going to be much fun to snuggle with a cast, but I'm up for trying if you are."
"What about Ian?" That, combined with Spencer's impish smile, did a lot to loosen the knots in Brendon's chest.
"Ian," Brendon said with a laugh, "can have the guest bedroom downstairs."
Instead of answering, Spencer went to his bed and shoved it over. He plopped down next to Brendon and slung an arm over his shoulder, and Brendon sighed happily.
"Just don't kick me in your sleep," he said.
Spencer kissed his forehead in reply.
Art | Mix
Master post
The nice thing about leaving Manticore? Choosing your own sleep schedule. When Brendon's eyes fluttered open the next day, it was sunset, and he never would've gotten away with that before. Their curtains blocked out the light pretty well, especially when the sky was as clouded over as usual, but the silvers of orange glowing on the walls were a pretty good indicator to wake up.
Brendon sat up with a yawn and paused. It turned out the light also illuminated Spencer on the bed across from him. He was smiling a little in his sleep, and if he woke him up, he could see the way the sun would make his eyes glow.
Fuck, Spencer was fucking beautiful. And he liked Brendon.
Brendon took a minute to hug his pillow in delight before climbing quietly out of bed and padding down to the kitchen. He could hear something on the TV in the living room, so after grabbing his bowl of chocolate sugar clusters, it was a no-brainer to head in that direction.
Ian was on the main couch and playing some kind of nature program on the TV. He was also scratching behind his ear pretty vigorously with his foot, and Brendon didn't need any seasoning for his cereal, so he sat in a chair nearby.
"Hey," Ian said after Brendon ate a couple bites, lowering his leg. "Gerard was looking for you."
"Yeah?"
Ian nodded. "Down in the basement."
Which meant work. Cool. Brendon grinned with cheeks stuffed with cereal, and Ian grimaced away. "Just go before I puke," he said.
If Brendon wasn't in such a good mood, he might mash the cereal in his mouth a little more and stick out his tongue. Luckily for Ian, he was happy enough to swallow first. Ian sneered back and went back to scratching.
Brendon set his cereal on the coffee table and jogged over to the basement door. The little button to bring up the retinal scanner and the speaker was as easy as ever to find, and when his eye turned up okay, Gerard's voice asked, "Who's there?"
"Brendon. Ian said you were looking for me?"
The door slid open, and Brendon jumped forward before it closed two seconds later. Gerard never liked keeping things open for long.
The basement didn't look much like a basement, or the basements Brendon saw in films at Manticore, anyway. There were real walls and paint and carpet just as nice as anything upstairs. The only difference between the basement and the other rooms were the tiny windows at the top of the far wall, which were, of course, locked and plastered over for security reasons.
When Brendon bounced down the stairs, he saw Gerard was only illuminated by green light from his computer monitors. Actually, that was how the whole place was lit up. Kind of creepy.
"Yo," Brendon said.
Gerard waved a hand. Brendon leaned over and peeked at the monitors, watching as blurry night-vision footage ran. If he couldn't see much with better vision, it was no wonder Gerard was hunched over.
"You have work?"
Gerard moved the mouse until a bar appeared, and when he dragged a button to the left, the footage moved back in time. "Look."
Brendon leaned in closer as Gerard pressed play. He could kind of make out a sidewalk, and a guy with an umbrella walking. Well, until said guy got jumped by...a blur. It wasn't until it slowed that Brendon could see two heads, which narrowed things down.
"I've never seen a Nomalie like that before," Brendon said, squinting.
On the screen, the Nomalie was clawing at the man, who was trying to beat his attacker with an umbrella. It wasn't working. It was only when other people showed up that the Nomalie blurred and disappeared again.
"Fuck." Brendon eased back. "Everyone always talked about violent Nomalies, but the ones I met were always really nice."
Gerard swiveled his chair away from the computer. "See, that's the weird part. He's one of Jamia's finds. He even registered with Pete three weeks ago."
"Really?"
"And it's not the first one, either. We got a verbal report like this on Sunday, but Mikey figured it was just a bad call on Brian's part. Or a one-time thing."
"And this isn't?"
Gerard leaned back in his chair. His eyes were puffy, so Pete probably woke him up hours ago. "Don't think so. But we're going to get intel before we're sure."
"I can do intel."
But Gerard shook his head quickly. "We've got this covered. I just wanted to see if you'd run into this in Manticore."
"I didn't." Brendon frowned. "But Spencer and I can find someone who knows something. You know that."
Gerard blinked a couple times. "Did you talk to Spencer? About what we talked about?"
"What we..." Brendon wasn't going to blush. He was a soldier. Or a spy. Or whatever. "Oh. Uh, yeah."
"And it went okay?"
"It was a start." Definitely a start. A very sexy start.
Gerard laughed. Brendon rubbed at his cheeks a little, but it wasn't enough to get the blushing to stop, unfortunately.
"So take the night off," Gerard said. "It's like you said at the club. You guys have been working your non-existent tails off. You need downtime more than I do."
Brendon wasn't so sure about that - Gerard looked like he could nod off on top of his desk - but the guy could be stubborn when he wanted to be. And Brendon definitely wouldn't say no to another night with Spencer. "You'll call if something changes?"
"You'll be the first to hear. Now go get laid."
Brendon blushed some more. Gerard giggled.
Evil bastard.
-
The inside of the High Place was really fucking trashed. It wasn't like Brendon hadn't noticed before, but while he unfolded the blankets he'd carried up in a backpack, his boots crunched down broken glass and bits of metal. A broom would work better than kicking the crud away, but whatever, it wasn't like he'd thought to bring one of those up with him.
"They really gave us the night off?" Spencer asked, pulling a shiny metal tube out of his own backpack.
"They really did. What the hell is that?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow as he screwed the top open. "Dude, we used these to carry water at Manticore. You don't remember?"
"I remember." It had kept everything chilled, which would've been nice if they hadn't been training in the snow more often than not. But judging by the way the top steamed as he poured water into cups, that wasn't the point. "Why'd you bring it?"
"Because you sounded really hoarse after we smoked up last time." Spencer pulled a couple of silver spheres out of a sandwich bag and stuck them in the cups.
Brendon blinked.
"It's hot water. We can use the catnip for tea, once it steeps. Should be a lot nicer on your throat."
"Oh." And he was blushing again. Whatever, Spencer was fucking romantic as shit. Brendon could go with it. "I think I need to stick my tongue down your throat now."
Spencer laughed, crinkling his nose. "Sexy."
But he shifted away from the tea and his backpack and slid next to Brendon. His pupils were huge, which, yay, good sign. Brendon sighed as Spencer cupped his cheek in a hand, and a chill danced along Brendon's skin that had nothing to do with the air coming through the broken windows. At least it wasn't too windy. He could deal with the drops of water making his arms moist if he didn't have to worry about falling to his death on his way up.
Of course, when Spencer moved his hand into Brendon's hair, and Brendon's skin seemed to heat even more, it was hard not to worry he'd steam up or something. But Spencer pulled Brendon closer, and touching their lips together again was enough to quiet his head.
It was totally obvious Spencer knew what he was doing. He tugged Brendon's head back by the hair gently, dragging his teeth over Brendon's lower lip. As Spencer slid the tip of his tongue in Brendon's mouth, a shock ran through Brendon, and he shivered. It'd be great if he could make Spencer shiver, too.
He sucked on Spencer's tongue as Brendon slid his hips closer. He wanted to get more of the taste from Spencer's mouth, but when Spencer groaned and moved his free hand to the small of Brendon's back, he did it again. Spencer held Brendon tighter, fingers digging into his skin. Brendon didn't want to move, but the fact that Spencer was purposely keeping Brendon still - or the idea of it, since Brendon had the strength to get back if he wanted - was kind of the best thing ever.
What was really weird was that Brendon wasn't tense anymore. He didn't necessarily want to calm down; the anticipation had made him want to hump the hell out of something, and making out with Spencer wasn't something that should've eased that. But the more they kissed, and the more turned on he got, the more he loosened up. Really, if Brendon got any more relaxed, he'd turn into a puddle.
Of course, it was only when the flush in his cheeks started to have more interesting effects lower in his body that Spencer broke away, panting quietly. His lips were shiny and red, too. Sweet.
"Geez, Spence. You're..."
Spencer's smile looked forced. Like he wasn't nearly as puddle-ready as Brendon. Brendon frowned. "You okay?"
Spencer nodded hard. He totally sucked at lying sometimes. "I'm just...we can try the tea, right? You don't mind?"
"Why would I mind?" He slid a hand on Spencer's arm. "Whatever you want."
Spencer grinned and laid a peck on Brendon's mouth. He crawled over to the tea again.
"But, uh." Bad idea. It was totally a bad idea. "You want to tell me about it?"
"Rather not. I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." It came out a little strong, but at least Spencer didn't look pissed. A little flustered, maybe, but Brendon could work with that.
While Spencer lifted up the cups and set them down in front of Brendon, Brendon jiggled his foot. Communication was good, but it only worked both ways. Or something. That was the fuzzy part of Gerard's lecture. Brendon had been more focused on the kissing and the boners.
It was probably overkill, but as Spencer bobbed the silver balls and not-clear liquid sluiced through, Brendon said, "If you ever need to talk, you can, dude."
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Like I didn't know that."
But he nudged Brendon before handing over a cup. Brendon smirked and took a sip.
-
It turned out catnip tea was really fucking awesome.
The last time they'd gotten stoned, Brendon had practically crawled his way back through the deserted city streets, even after sleeping off a lot of the high. This time, he was walking upright with a straight back. He'd even climbed down the Space Needle without flipping out. It was a total incognito high.
"You can go faster than that," Spencer said with mock severity. Then he giggled and leaned against a trash can.
Maybe it wasn't as incognito as Brendon had hoped.
"This is a good speed. Easy." Brendon blinked hard. His eyes and throat were totally normal, and his clothes probably didn't smell much. Spencer was a genius. "I walked way too fast the last time we did this."
"That's because you were running super speed and tripping over your feet."
"Oh." He walked slightly faster, and sure enough, it didn't feel too wild. "Whoa."
"See?"
"Thanks, Mr. Know-it-All."
He kissed Spencer on the cheek and bounced down the sidewalk. But when he twirled in place, he saw the way Spencer touched the spot Brendon had laid his lips upon, looking vaguely awed.
-
Mikey and Frank were taking up the couches when Brendon came downstairs the next day. It didn't look like their normal snuggling. As Brendon watched, Mikey pulled away a washcloth stained with blood, and Frank hissed. Not cuddling, then.
"Dude," Brendon said, padding over in his bare feet. "What the hell?"
"It's nothing," Frank said.
"He went out with some of the other X5s." Mikey wrung out the washcloth in a bowl of water, and a little dripped on the floor. Brendon watched the dot spread on the carpet. He never would've gotten away with being that messy in Manticore. "He took Jamia and Lindsay and Janelle."
Brendon tilted his head. "They're a good group."
"I know." Mikey scowled at Frank. "Which is why he shouldn't have ditched them."
Frank batted his eyelashes. Mikey just crossed his arms in response, so Frank turned to Brendon and tried it on him. Brendon was a little too busy staring at the gash on Frank's forehead to play along.
"Just a scratch," Frank said, dropping the act with a sigh. "It'll heal."
"So you ran into the Nomalies?"
"They ran into me, more like. With their fists." He turned back, and Mikey leaned in to clean off more dried blood around the wound. "I'll get them back tonight."
Mikey raised an eyebrow. "If..."
"If I actually stick around with my backup. If the bruises on my ribs weren't a clue, I learned my fucking lesson."
"I'll go with you." Spencer probably would, too - Brendon was mostly sure Spencer would be pissed if he got left behind - but it was better if Spencer said that on his own. "You wouldn't shake me off, would you?"
"Of course not," Frank said solemnly. He snickered when Mikey smacked his arm. "I'll let you know if I'm going to ditch you, how's that?"
Brendon sighed and shared a pained look with Mikey. It would have to work.
-
The solidity of Frank's promises didn't end up mattering when they went out. The Nomalies were nowhere to be found.
"Guess they went to ground," said Spencer, who of course, came along. He was perched at the edge of the building like it was nothing. "They did that to us before they heard we wanted to help."
Next to Spencer, Frank scowled. He was on the edge, too...and okay, so was Brendon. Brendon was just a little more tense about it. "Except they were attacking people."
"Not all of them," Brendon said. "Most of them aren't."
Frank stepped back. He ran a finger over the stitches he'd gotten earlier; the gash already looked almost healed. "Guess I should head to the studio so tonight isn't a complete waste of time. What about you two?"
Brendon caught Spencer's eye and grinned when Spencer waggled his eyebrows. "I think we're going to blow off some steam."
"Just don't get arrested." Of course Frank was completely serious, but there was a note in his voice that said, please do. Like he'd be proud.
Spencer saluted. The move was a sloppy mockery of their time in Manticore, but there was still something precise about it. Brendon knew it wasn't easy to shake a lifetime's training, after all.
Frank saluted back, sloppy enough that it'd be easy to believe he'd never been in Manticore, and dropped to climb down the drainpipe.
-
It was getting to the point where just seeing the High Place in the distance was enough to give Brendon a partial boner. And that was before they were sprawled on their blankets again and Spencer let Brendon's hands drift down to his ass. Really, the whole situation was almost miraculous and perfect enough for Brendon to reconsider his atheism. Almost.
But the second Brendon's hand started to creep around Spencer's hip, Spencer pulled back.
"Sorry," Brendon said. "You okay?"
Spencer's hand shook a little as he brought it up to his hair. Fuck. Spencer had said slow; why had Brendon pushed it? "Yeah. I'm fine."
Brendon didn't think he needed to repeat the whole "you can talk to me" speech. And considering Spencer was hunched in on himself a little, Brendon definitely wasn't going to touch him until Spencer gave the all-clear. But it didn't leave a lot of options for Brendon until Spencer said something. He settled for rubbing his palms over his jeans and willing his hard-on to go down.
"You're not...you're not mad, are you?"
Brendon froze. "Why would I be mad?"
"Because. Because I'm not." Spencer swallowed.
Brendon shook his head. "Exact opposite of mad, dude. You're amazing."
"I...what?"
Brendon had kind of been hoping to get a smile, so the look of confusion on Spencer's face was a little out of nowhere. Brendon could work with it, though. "You're ridiculously hot, and you let me touch you sometimes. I'm fucking lucky, dude."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. It's fine."
"I..." Spencer exhaled. "You remember when you were in Psy-Ops because you'd disobeyed orders?"
Brendon grinned. "Which time?"
"The first time."
Brendon chuckled quietly. He probably shouldn't. The mind control shit they did to other people sucked ass, but Brendon had a natural immunity to that kind of thing, so he'd play along as much as he'd felt like and then pretend it wore off. He'd avoided a lot of missions that way.
"That was..." The laughter died in Brendon's throat. "Your first mission."
Spencer had gone into Psy-Ops right after Brendon had left. It hadn't worked on him, either - he and Brendon and Ryan and Brent were the last in their generation, and they'd had extra tinkering - but that hadn't been a good thing. The others came out of Psy-Ops with their old missions wiped from their minds, but Spencer had come back stony-faced and quieter than usual. There were even a couple of nights where Brendon had heard him crying, Spencer never cried.
The last thing Brendon would ever do was force him into talking, but it hadn't stopped him from wondering.
"It wasn't as bad as it could've been." Brendon knew who Spencer was thinking about: Brent. He hadn't come back from his first mission, and he was far from the only one. "They didn't want a kill. They just wanted information, and I had to...stay close."
Brendon's throat tightened up. "Spence."
"Really close," Spencer said, like he couldn't hear Brendon. Judging by the way he stared at the floor near Brendon's knees, he probably didn't. "Or I'd blow my cover."
X5s healed fast. But Spencer had come back from Psy-Ops with bruises all over his face, most of them still dark and ugly. Brendon had always figured he'd fought his way out of his mission.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
It was Spencer's turn to laugh, and there was a genuine sound to it, but it was also awkward and forced. "Killed the mood, didn't I?"
He didn't want pity. Brendon wouldn't either. "We can still drink some tea."
"Fuck yes."
-
The roof the next day was solid, nearly flat. Brendon's shoes gripped it well, even when he put on X5 speed and ran from one end to the other. The only way the situation could be better is if they were on the ground.
He hadn't expected to be in Sector 5. Sector 5, to everyone's knowledge, was mostly filled with humans. Gerard had looked surprised when he'd shared Brian's report about activity there, and maybe even a little guilty.
"Brian said the officers in his unit have been tracking gang activity," Gerard had said. "It'd make sense if whoever was controlling the Nomalies used that as a way to slip under the radar."
The presence of gangs explained the intermittent gunfire Brendon was hearing. It was extra good to have solid roofing to climb around on.
Spencer was already waiting on the other side as Brendon skidded to a stop. They were perched over an open window, and if they could slide in, maybe they could get to anyone squatting inside. But they had to wait for the signal from Frank and Ray, who were circling on the ground.
They both flinched down as gunfire sounded again. Brendon even thought he saw flashes of light out of the corner of his eye, like it was in one of the alleys nearby.
Spencer bumped the mic in his collar. "We have a positive yet? Over."
There was only static. It was pretty common in Sector 5; it was the place in Seattle that supposedly took the most technological damage after the Pulse. Most of the interference came from broken machines that no one bothered to power down or fix.
"Damn it." Spencer bumped the mic again to keep the feedback from getting too loud. "I can't see a thing. You?"
Brendon peered down. "Yeah, see there? That looks like them."
He pointed at a couple of shadowy figures running around to the front door. Spencer waved down at them, and they waved back. Brendon could barely make out the hand signal that told them to hold their position, but he was pretty sure that's what they were doing.
"I think we're supposed to stay put," he said. He looked around the roof again. There was an access door. "Maybe we should watch the exit?"
Spencer shrugged. "Good as anything, I guess."
Brendon had just turned around when someone shouted, and more gunfire went off. He ducked down by the roof's lip, and Spencer was only seconds behind.
"Is this really what gangs are supposed to sound like?" Spencer said, half-yelling over the popping noises.
"I don't know!"
There was a loud noise from the sector gate, and they both jerked their heads to look up in that direction. Cop cars swarmed at the border, and as people grouped on the other side, the door was closing fast. Brendon could see flashes of light from inside the sector.
Spencer started crawling toward the access door; there were still enough bullets flying, even if most of them had moved out of range, that it was a bad idea to be upright. Brendon swallowed hard and went after him.
A large thumping noise started halfway to their destination. When Brendon looked over his shoulder back at the sector gate, it was closed and illuminated by spotlights. It was impossible to tell what it all meant.
"B!"
Spencer was at the door, crouched, reaching for the handle. But the door swung open as he waved for Brendon, and it hit him in the back of the head just as a dark figure came out. Brendon jumped to his feet as Spencer fell forward.
The dark figure growled, and Brendon froze. A Nomalie.
It happened fast from there. The kind of fast where Brendon's brain snapped every frame, like his brain was a camera.
The Nomalie - who wore a cap and a bulky jacket, but had some kind of tail swishing behind - rushed forward. To where Spencer was sprawled. Brendon was already running in front of the Nomalie, ready to get the jump on it...except it flanked to the side when it saw Brendon coming, and Brendon leapt to grab for him. He barely dug his fingers in his jacket before he realized, hey, the Nomalie was trying to jump for the opposite roof, and they were both tumbling, tripping over the ledge, falling down over the side of the building.
Brendon counted the stories of the building as he fell.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
And then everything went black.
-
"Wake up!"
Brendon groaned, but he opened his eyes. Spencer was standing over him, pale to the roots of his shorn hair, wringing his hands.
"You'll wake the others," Brendon said in a whisper. It was a good thing he could still hear the rest of the X5s in the room breathing deeply. It wouldn't be a good time for them to get in trouble.
"But Ryan."
"What about him?"
Spencer grabbed Brendon's arm. It was all Brendon could do to keep from falling on his face as he stumbled out of bed.
"I heard one of the guard's comms," Spencer said, dragging Brendon toward the loose window. "They've got Ryan in Psy-Ops for now, but they're moving him."
"To another room?"
"No. Another facility."
Brendon scrambled to get everything on the window loose. Spencer's breath was hitching, like he was crying quietly, but Brendon couldn't take the time to make sure. Spencer wouldn't want him to, anyway.
They made it out to the roof. It was cold in the middle of January, and icy, so Brendon skidded more often than he walked. He had to jam his hands under his armpits to keep them warm, but at least he knew from training that he wouldn't lose anything important unless he was out here for days.
"There!" Spencer pointed toward the main gate, and Brendon could see a line of thin, nearly bald X5s their age filing into a truck. He focused his vision.
Ryan was at the end of the line.
"What...what should we do?" Brendon asked, shaking a little with the cold.
"Get him!"
"But after that. They'll find out. We'll have to leave."
"I know." Spencer's eyes filled with tears. Brendon couldn't say no to that.
He ran.
Brendon knew the paths better than Spencer - he'd been practicing for years with Frank - so he made better time. He crawled past his usual hiding spot so the guard tower wouldn't see him, and he flat out ran to the blind spot that led to a dead power line. Skimming on the line would bring him to a pipe across to the main building, and he could drop to the ground from there. He could grab Ryan's arm and go for the fence, maybe out the front door if the truck driver had left it open. From there...
He got to his feet to jump for the power line. But as soon as he swung his arms once, his foot slipped. He didn't have the momentum to make the line, and there was nothing to grab as he slipped off the roof. Nothing but the gutter.
A gasp escaped Brendon's mouth as his hands curled around the metal. His body slapped against the building, and he flinched. That was loud enough to hear. They'd get him.
Spencer skidded to a stop over him.
"Go!" Brendon whispered, hands shaking. It was a six-story drop from here. If he'd made it to the pipe, that was two. He could've survived two stories. "The power line will get you down."
"Take my hand." Spencer lowered his arm.
Brendon glanced over. No guards were looking at them because only two kids were left. One of them was Ryan.
"There's no time!" he gasped, trying to get his elbow over the gutter for leverage. It didn't work.
Spencer's fingers stopped right next to Brendon's right hand.
"Go!" Brendon said again. His left hand was starting to slip. He watched his feet dangling over darkness; he couldn't bring himself to adjust to see how far the bottom was. The fall would probably be fast, at least.
"Brendon."
He kicked for the wall. There were no windowsills to balance on, no cracks to brace with. If one hand lost its grip, that would be it.
"Brendon, look at me."
He did. Up and up, into Spencer's steady blue eyes. They were completely dry.
"Grab on," Spencer said. "Come on."
Brendon took a breath. "I'm scared."
"I know. But I'll get you. I promise."
Brendon gritted his teeth, and he threw his right hand up. His left hand slipped completely, and...
...Spencer grabbed his wrist. He braced himself on the roof, pulling Brendon up to meet him easily. He even wrapped his arm around Brendon's waist to keep them from falling over and braced him on vents nearby.
When Brendon could breathe enough to look back over his shoulder, the truck was already making its way out the road. There was no way they'd have enough time to catch up before someone found them.
He stifled a sob. "I'm sorry."
Spencer smiled, brushing a hand over Brendon's buzzed hair. It was a sad smile. "It's not your fault."
They stayed on the roof for another hour after that, making their way back slowly. Brendon shook every time he came near the edge. It was only when they made it to their normal resting spot that Brendon started to cry, and it was Spencer who held him.
Spencer, who'd just lost his best friend in the world, spent the rest of the night comforting Brendon. He never asked for anything back.
-
"-you hear me?"
"Mmm?" Brendon said. He snaked his arms around himself, even though it didn't feel cold. It should've felt cold, shouldn't it? The roof was cold in mid-January, and-
Someone pried open his eyelid and shined a light in. Brendon flinched away, but the hand pulled open his other eyelid and did it again.
"Ow," Brendon said. And then the pain in his head radiated. "Ow."
He forced his eyes open again. In the darkness, holding his wrist to check his pulse, was none other than Dallon. Brendon gaped at him as Dallon drew his fingers back and carefully twisted Brendon's left wrist back and forth.
"Does that hurt?" Dallon asked.
Brendon shook his head, and wow, was that a mistake. The room swum around him. "Fuck."
"Just stick to verbal responses, I guess." He picked up Brendon's other wrist, and yeah, that fucking hurt. Dallon nodded absently at Brendon's noise of pain and made a note on his computer.
"Where did you come from?" Brendon asked. "I thought..."
"I was dead? Nah." Dallon was actually smiling a little. Weird. "Got friends in talented places."
"But Pedicone-"
"Tried to steal something from Frank last time he was here, if what Mikey told me was right."
"Did he?" Brendon shifted up a little and immediately regretted it. "Did Spencer..."
"Take it easy. Spencer's just outside. He was trying to get your backup generator working." Dallon cleared his throat and said loudly, "He's awake."
The door slammed open and Spencer's pale, wide-eyed face appeared. Brendon grinned.
"I should kick your ass," Spencer said in a low voice.
"Hello to you, too."
"Don't kick his ass yet." Dallon took off a pair of rubber gloves and tucked them in his pocket instead of throwing them in the trash. Probably because, as far as Brendon could see, they were in his and Spencer's bedroom. He couldn't remember getting back. "He'll need a night's rest to heal the neck injury the rest of the way, and a day or two on the leg."
"Leg?" Brendon glanced down. Sure enough, it was wrapped in a splint. He leaned back against his pillows with a groan.
But just when he was really about to kick up a fuss, a golden light filled the room, and electronics throughout the house whirred to life. Dallon smiled. "Good timing. I was just wondering if Gerard would let me test the blood sample I took, but if the power was out..."
"Eyes Only's generators always work during sector blackouts, but yeah." Spencer held up a finger. "I should make sure Frank's not in the house."
"Right," Dallon said with a sigh. Frank wasn't his biggest fan. Which was ridiculous because Dallon did a fuckload of work making sure Brendon and Spencer stayed in contact with Frank after his first break-out. Frank just got cranky sometimes.
As Spencer ducked downstairs, Dallon rolled his head on his neck. "Sorry to say it, but..."
"Bed rest?"
Dallon nodded and smiled wryly when Brendon grimaced. He'd seen firsthand before how much Brendon hated those words. "Bed rest."
Brendon sighed dramatically. "So much for my skateboarding career."
"If you hadn't landed on trash, you'd need more than a few days to heal." Dallon snorted. "Heck, be glad you're not human. If I took a fall like you did, I'd be a splatter on pavement."
"A well-dressed one."
Dallon adjusted his bow tie. "Can't deny that."
The door cracked open, and Spencer slipped back inside. "Frank's out, probably until dawn. Gerard's waiting for you."
"Thanks, man." He clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "The blood work's just backup, okay?"
Spencer nodded curtly, and Dallon patted his arm once before walking out and closing the door.
"You're going to wait on me," Brendon said, lacing his fingers together. "What's the phrase? Hand and foot? I definitely need a foot. My poor, poor-"
He cut off as Spencer leaned in and kissed him. Brendon's head spun, but it wasn't the injuries. Probably. Either way, he closed his eyes and kissed back.
"Don't do that shit." Spencer pulled back his lips enough to talk, but he started laying light kisses on Brendon's jaw, so the lecture obviously wasn't that important to him. "Just don't."
"Yeah. You'll lose your tea buddy." Brendon sighed. "And just when I was thinking about bringing doilies, too."
His breathless voice kind of ruined the joke, but Spencer paused. "Is that all I am to you?"
Brendon sat up quickly to protest, but everything went really wobbly, and he actually had to bend over and barf. Luckily, there was a trash can right next to his bed, so he didn't get the floor disgusting. Much.
Spencer rubbed his back until he sat up again. "Take it easy."
"Right," Brendon said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fell off a building. Think I'd remember that."
Spencer rolled his eyes.
"And no, to answer your question." Brendon bit his lip. "I'm actually kind of in love with you."
It was shitty timing as far as life-changing declarations went, but he'd loved Spencer since he saw him eat the bread Brendon had saved. It was obvious, thinking back. No reason to waste more time.
Spencer, to Brendon's relief, smiled back. "Good. Because I thought you were dead earlier, and I don't think I could take my heart getting crushed on top of that."
"Please. Like a building fall could kill me." Fucking roofs. He'd never be a fan. "Even if, uh, there was a riot or something."
"Gangs took over Sector 5, so pretty much."
"Wow. Getting out must've been an adventure."
Spencer smirked. "You have no idea. But we got the Nomalie."
"Seriously?"
"Gerard had some of his sources run tests while you were out. Looks like Manticore was dosing them. He's working on an antidote right now."
Brendon grinned. If he had to fall off a building, there were worse outcomes.
"So I have a question," he said, shifting on his pillow, "and if this is too much, say so."
"Okay."
"Why don't we push our beds together?" Brendon pointed the few feet between their twins. Spencer stiffened, so Brendon said quickly, "I'm not going to be much fun to snuggle with a cast, but I'm up for trying if you are."
"What about Ian?" That, combined with Spencer's impish smile, did a lot to loosen the knots in Brendon's chest.
"Ian," Brendon said with a laugh, "can have the guest bedroom downstairs."
Instead of answering, Spencer went to his bed and shoved it over. He plopped down next to Brendon and slung an arm over his shoulder, and Brendon sighed happily.
"Just don't kick me in your sleep," he said.
Spencer kissed his forehead in reply.
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