Dollhouse AU: "Sensory [re:]Generation", 2/3 (cont)
Beginning and story information here
*
Over the next few days Dominic all but ignored Topher, not saying anything when he chose to leave the room.
Topher couldn’t decide if it was because of the understanding that DeWitt’s people were watching them (and presumably able to intervene in the event he got into trouble), or because Dominic was in too bad a mood to care.
Either way, Topher took advantage of the opportunity. With nothing else to do he explored the Orphanarium, watching the crowds and taking in every sensation. He was getting more used to people.
But he still wasn’t able to fully wrap his mind around the mystery that was Dominic.
He wasn’t afraid of the ‘sucker anymore. He intimidated him, still - but that was just Dominic.
Maybe it was just that Topher hadn’t interacted with somebody regularly in so long. But he could be honest with himself, and he knew that he liked having Dominic around him; which was just plain weird, considering how little they had in common and how not very long ago Topher thought all ‘suckers were monsters that weren’t to be trusted.
But he did trust Dominic. More than he thought he’d ever trusted anybody else.
And despite the arguments and annoyances, with Dominic ignoring him, Topher found he missed their conversations.
Not that a conversation was anywhere near to being on his mind, when he walked in on Dominic getting out of the shower.
Dominic was wet-haired, shirtless, and in the process of pulling on his pants. He glanced up at Topher with something that read as aggravation.
“Think that maybe you could knock the next time?”
“Oh!” Topher was paralyzed. His mouth rounded into a shell-shocked gape. “Oh…oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
“Calm down, I’m not that pissed off,” Dominic said. He finished buckling his belt and shrugged. “Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, right?”
Topher gazed blankly at Dominic’s well-developed torso. He wrapped an arm across his own scrawny frame.
“Um.”
Dominic seemed oblivious of Topher’s conundrum. “Figures I finally decide to get cleaned up, and you’d come waltzing back in here. Your sense of timing really is that impeccable.”
“I’m sorry,” Topher repeated.
Dominic rolled his eyes. He tugged his shirt on over his head, mussing his hair in the process. When he reached to fix it Topher felt a mild sense of disappointment.
After a silent moment, Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re still standing there staring at me?”
“Um! I just…” Topher dropped his head, tangling fingers in his hair. “Not used to nudity,” he offered, weakly. “Especially other people’s.”
“Christ. I knew it.” Dominic smirked. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”
“What? No!” Topher was affronted. “I had a girlfriend, remember?”
“Who slept in a separate bed,” Dominic noted dryly.
“That was just for when she spent the night! Having sex is one thing, but sleeping together in the actual literal sense can be…awkward. There’s less space, and all those extra limbs…”
Dominic’s frown grew as he realized he was being serious.
Topher sucked in a breath, finishing, “But we made it past third base, all the way to home plate and around the park again. Several times!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.” Dominic had his hands up in a placating gesture. “I don’t think you can fault me for assuming though. You get kind of weird around people.” He paused. “Weirder, anyway.”
Topher didn’t say anything else, but he still smarted from the perceived blow as he went to get something to eat. He was aware of Dominic watching as he fiddled with the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?” Topher offered. “Cus, um, if you are…”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“No, really.” Topher waved a wrist, distantly aware he sounded just a bit too eager. “I don’t mind.”
Dominic’s face darkened.
“Don’t make me your new addiction,” he said sharply. “I don’t have any patience for that.”
Topher turned away again, huffing. “It was just an offer.”
So what if he liked the way it felt when Dominic fed on him? There was nothing wrong with that. It was human nature to seek out things that brought pleasure.
Topher loaded up a bowl of sugary cereal, topping it off with berry flakes and sweetened milk. He sat down and dug in.
Dominic made a face of disgust. “How can you stand that?” he demanded. “With an entire catalogue of flavors at your disposal, I don’t understand how you could possibly keep eating all that junk.”
“I like it.” Topher put a big spoonful in his mouth and kept talking. “What I don’t understand is why you get all feather-ruffled over it. So I like noshing on junk food. What do you care?”
Dominic’s expression shifted, irritation fading.
“Jealousy, I guess,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t dwell on it, or anything. But sometimes I just really miss the taste of food.”
Topher’s hand froze partway to his mouth. “Oh.” He hadn’t considered it. “You can’t…right.”
He set down his spoon.
“Can’t you just eat it anyway? I mean, it wouldn’t exactly do anything for you, cus your immune system would rip it to shreds before it digested. But it’s not like people eat just because they need the carbs.”
Dominic shook his head. “Nothing tastes right, anymore. It’s like swallowing ash.”
“Oh,” Topher said again.
He supposed he’d be annoyed with someone too, if they had an entire sense that he was missing and they were wasting it.
Topher looked at his soggy cereal. He didn’t feel like eating it anymore.
“Oh, come on. Don’t do that.” Dominic scoffed. “Don’t sulk just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t…” Topher pushed his bowl away. “I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Dominic came over and rotated the other chair, sitting with arms folded across the back. “I’ll eat, if you eat.”
Topher looked up, taking in his implication.
“Go on.” Dominic gestured. “You’ll need your strength if you’re going to be losing blood.”
Topher started shoveling eagerly.
“Don’t choke,” commented Dominic, wryly.
“Sorry,” Topher mumbled. Dominic was giving him the “God you’re such a spaz” face again. He swallowed. “I never used to understand how anyone could want to be a donor. No offense.”
“None taken,” Dominic deadpanned.
“But if that’s how it feels to get bitten by one of you guys, every time…” Topher shivered slightly at the pleasurable memory.
“It’s not that simple. Yeah, there are people who actively seek out vampires, just looking to get fed on.” Dominic scowled. “Addicts. Pleasure-junkies of yet one more kind. But taking on a donor is different from that.”
Topher pushed his empty bowl away. “Like how?”
“There’s a connection between the two. A strong one. That only gets stronger every time. Feeding from them feels better, and different, from anyone else. That’s why you never drink from others once you have a donor. You don’t want to.”
Topher felt something clench in his stomach. He was still scared of other ‘suckers. But Dominic was different.
He thought about what it would be like to know he could stay with Dominic always, that he’d always look after him; that Topher’s blood would be the only thing Dominic would ever need.
“But how do you pick a donor? How do they find you?”
“It just happens.” Dominic gave a tight shrug. “No one’s sure why or how. Body chemistry, they think. You just meet someone and, boom. Instant connection.”
What about near-instant, Topher thought. What about when you were frightened of someone at first because they were bigger than you and strong and you’d had a bad day, but over time you got used to them and realized they were pretty and kind of funny and you liked the way their skin was always cool to the touch and the way they smelled? What about that? Could that work, too?
Topher said softly, “Sounds kind of like falling in love.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Dominic jerked abruptly, not so much getting out of the chair as violently shoving his body away from it. Topher flinched.
“It’s exactly like falling in love,” Dominic snapped. “It makes you do stupid things, and fool yourself into thinking it can last forever. But donor relationships can end, just like any other. And it’s always bad when they do. You can’t be that happy and lose it without feeling the hurt.”
He shook his head. “At least I know never to make the same mistake again.”
“But you might find somebody or, or, get to know somebody-”
“No. I won’t. There’s nobody out there. Trust me.”
Topher lifted his hand. He started to reach for him. “But…” His voice was very small, trembling. “But I think…I think that I might…”
Dominic glowered at him, impatient.
“What, Topher? You think you might what?”
His face was cold. No emotion, no encouragement. Nothing.
Topher’s hand dropped. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Dominic scowled, and turned his back on him.
“Wait,” Topher called, weakly. “You promised…I thought you said…”
“I changed my mind,” Dominic snapped.
He exited the room, leaving Topher all alone with the empty feeling in his chest.
*
It was three days later when Topher was in the Orphanarium by himself and he saw Whiskey.
“Oh. Hey,” he greeted her uneasily. Something about her really unnerved him. Possibly the scars, or just the stare.
Whiskey gazed back at him. “Hello.”
“I’m kind of surprised to see you,” Topher remarked. “With all these people around, the odds are pretty slim on us crossing paths again.”
“I can be easy to find,” Whiskey stated, simply.
“That a fact?”
“People know that through me they can reach Echo, or Caroline.”
Topher blinked. “Echo is in contact with Caroline?”
“When she wants to be. It’s rare.”
Topher decided that made it unlikely the doppel had told her that Topher was there. “Great. By all means, let’s keep that relationship a distant one. A card every once and again at holidays, perhaps. Anything more would probably be wearing out your welcome.”
Whiskey took him in. “You seem unhappy.”
Topher sighed and sat down on the floor. “Whiskey, what would you do if you liked someone, and they didn’t like you back?”
He didn’t exactly expect her to answer. But he was getting sick of the lumpy knot tied up inside him of all the things he was feeling and not saying; he wanted to untangle it a little. And venting at Whiskey made him feel marginally less stupid than venting at the wall.
Whiskey blinked once slowly. “How do you know if someone doesn’t like you back?”
Topher made a frustrated gesture. “You tell them, of course.”
“And that’s what you did?”
“I…no.” Topher stopped. He stared off dimly. “I didn’t. I mean…not really.”
Whiskey just looked at him. She seemed confused. Topher didn’t blame her. It didn’t make a lot of sense, actually.
He got to his feet. “I’ll see you around.”
Whiskey nodded. “You will.”
He had to find Dominic and talk to him before he lost the nerve.
Dominic wasn’t in their room. Topher looked around sort of at a loss, because he didn’t really know where else he would be.
Then Topher noticed that the Voice was between performances, and something occurred to him. With some difficulty he was able to locate that one security man, Langton.
“Dominic is meeting with the Voice again, isn’t he?” Topher demanded. “I need to see him. It’s urgent.”
Langton’s eyebrows went up. But he led him back to the dressing room.
“She made it clear she doesn’t want to be disturbed,” he told Topher. “You can wait for him out here.”
Langton left him again, and Topher paced impatiently. He certainly wasn’t about to barge in on the Voice, or Dominic for that matter, but he was getting really bored waiting. He wondered what they were talking about.
Then it came to him he was in a position to finally get some answers.
He checked the door, and found it unlocked. Carefully Topher pried it open a crack.
DeWitt and Dominic were near the center of the room. Topher had a perfect view.
DeWitt’s hand was outstretched, fingers delicately stroking Dominic’s tattoo. Dominic had a dark look on his face, but he didn’t move away.
“You didn’t have it removed.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. There would have been a scar. Every time I looked at it, I would still remember. Why bother?”
She pulled her hand away. “And you were so eager to forget?”
He broke eye contact with her, glaring a hole into the floor.
DeWitt waited a moment.
“Three years, Laurence. Three perfect years-”
“That you ended.”
“Don’t you miss me at all?” She stepped even closer to him; Dominic lifted his head, looking like he wanted to pull away but couldn’t. They stared into each other’s eyes. “Are you really going to try and tell me that I mean nothing to you, now?”
“You mean something,” Dominic said. His eyes were accusing and angry. “A world of agony.”
“Because it hurts you to be apart from me, doesn’t it? I know.”
The Voice raised her hands, resting them on the sides of the ‘sucker’s face.
“I’ve suffered it too.”
Topher stood where he was, feeling himself shrink smaller and smaller as he stared. Even as it felt like something inside of him was cracking, he couldn’t let go of the door handle and move away.
“Adelle,” Dominic breathed, pleading. “Don’t.”
“You still care about me. I know that you do. I know you do because I still care about you.” She smiled delicately. “And we worked so well because we have so much in common, didn’t we? We’ve always been a perfect set.”
“I still care about you. I still care about you, but god, I…” Dominic cupped her face like he was touching something holy.
DeWitt kissed him. Her hands looped around his shoulders as she held herself to him. Dominic touched her hair, and her throat, brushing one hand beneath her dressing-gown to caress her legs.
Holding her by the waist, Dominic rested his face beside DeWitt’s, murmuring something in her ear.
Topher went very still, barely breathing, as he listened.
He realized Dominic was singing to her, lowly, very slow. “Darling”, an old tune of the Orphanarium that was never performed anymore.
Topher thought that he didn’t have the worst voice in the world.
DeWitt held him tight. She hummed along, eyes closing, and she had never been more gorgeous. “I want you, Laurence.” Tilting her head, she bared the softness of that perfect white neck to him. “Do it. You know you want to.”
The last words were a whisper: “Take me.”
No, don’t, Topher thought.
Dominic did. Bliss so strong and heady it almost looked like pain crossed his face, as he sank his fangs into her. DeWitt breathed out, sighing. Her lips were parted and her lashes fluttered, and Topher thought her face couldn’t be more awe-inspiring, more striking in its portrayal of pleasure.
Topher probably didn’t look anything like that when Dominic bit him. He probably had a weird expression, looked awkward, looked exactly the way he felt when it happened: like a child, overwhelmed.
There was a creaking sound as the door moved, the weight of Topher’s body slumping into it.
The couple in the room froze, looking up at him. DeWitt just looked confused to see someone standing there. Dominic was far more startled.
“I’m sorry,” Topher croaked. The words felt hard to get out, buried inside his chest. “I d-didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”
He walked very quickly away.
He jerked like a dog at the end of its lead when Dominic came after him, seizing a hold of his arm.
“Topher…” Dominic was frowning. For the first time since Topher met him, he looked like he might not be sure what was going on.
Topher found himself staring up at his face.
Dominic’s eyes were lighter now that he had fed - much lighter, a distinct shade of pale blue. It made his face look different. It almost made him look like another person.
Topher thought about the song, “Darling”. It was from an odd corner of the repertoire, one people didn’t think of very often. The Voice never sang it anymore. She hadn’t for years.
There were still the old recordings, and Topher had thought it was a weird song the first couple times he’d heard it. As far as he’d been able to tell it was about being tortured, words about being in the palm of someone’s hand, overwrought and controlled.
It was Ivy in the height of her fixation that finally explained it to him. “It’s a love song,” she’d said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s about how it feels to be in love with someone so much you think you’re going crazy, and yet you live for every minute of it.”
“Darling”, Topher distantly recalled, had been debuted and then performed constantly, before suddenly being dropped from the set as if it never existed. The short period of its heyday was probably about three years.
Topher remembered one of the recordings he’d seen of the Voice singing it. The stage was different then, DeWitt on the same level as the band instead of higher, separated. She used to interact with them a little as she performed. The lead guitarist in particular she would constantly play with, look towards. And the entire time she was doing “Darling”, it wasn’t like she was singing for the audience. It was like she was singing it for him.
Topher remembered how that guitarist smiled at the singer. He remembered that that man had light blond hair. He remembered that his eyes were pale blue.
Topher’s eyes fell to the tattoo on Dominic’s arm, its twisting blacklight pattern. He thought he could make out the letters now.
“A, D, E, L…it says ‘Adelle’, doesn’t it? That’s what you called her.” Topher met Dominic’s gaze. “She was your donor.”
Dominic’s face was closed-off, undecipherable. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Really?” Topher returned, knowing he sounded like a smartass. “Because I gotta tell you, back there it kind of looked like it does.”
Dominic glared, but even as his mouth was opening Langton approached them in the hallway.
“DeWitt wants to see you. Alone.”
Dominic snapped at him, “Not now.”
Langton didn’t even blink. He met him with a stoic expression. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Dominic fell silent, taken aback. His eyes trailed to Topher. “She wants…him?”
Topher knew he should feel intimidated, that the Voice was requesting him for a private audience. He knew he should feel overwhelmed. Frightened. Or flattered, even.
Instead, he found he didn’t feel much of anything at all. He had somehow managed to successfully stuff his emotions down where, for the moment, they couldn’t reach him.
Topher didn’t want to think about what would happen later when they could.
He didn’t meet Dominic’s eyes this time when he spoke.
“I’ll see you later.”
*
“I wasn’t trying to spy on you,” was the first thing that Topher said, quietly. He wasn’t looking at her, because he didn’t think he could bear to take in how flawless she was. “I was just-”
“I think, Topher, that I have finally had an idea for how you could be allowed to stay here,” DeWitt interrupted him. She seemed to be pretending that she hadn’t heard him. She was smiling faintly.
“Are you interested to hear it?”
Topher dragged his toe across the floor. “I…sure. Whatever.”
She did not let his lack of enthusiasm sway her. “Apparently, you need a place to be which is relatively safe from Revolutionary intrusion. Since the Orphanarium will obviously suffice, I thought perhaps you might be persuaded to join my staff.”
Topher did look at her then. Blankly.
“I don’t think I would make a very good member of your security team. I tend to be the one that needs saving and defending.”
He thought of Dominic, and all those rescues. Something soured in his gut.
She laughed airily. “No, that wasn’t quite what I meant. But you have skills with technology, do you not?”
“What, you mean you want me to join your tech squad? Setting up microphone cords, doing special effects pyrotechnics?”
“Believe it or not the performance is only one aspect of what we do here,” the Voice reminded him. She was more serious, almost harsh. “Someone with your expertise with code manipulation could come in handy for keeping our defensive grid secure against outside attack.”
He was wanted for his hacking skills again. Just like the Revolution. Just like when Caroline and Paul showed up at his door and started this whole mess. But why not? Of course people would only want him for what he could do, and not as a person. As a person, he was worthless, pathetic - he sucked.
“Topher? Are you all right?”
DeWitt was frowning at him with alarm, and in that instant Topher was aware that he was not all right. Somehow he’d wound up hunched over partially, hugging himself.
He was breathing in tiny, sort of wheezing gasps, and it took him awhile to remember that this was it felt like when you were struggling not to cry.
“Here. Come here.” DeWitt guided him over to her couch, soothing him. “Shhh. It’s alright.”
She offered him something to drink and Topher took the glass - she was the Voice, of course he would do whatever she said. But he didn’t bring it to his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him, her words full of care.
Just feeling her worry about him was like being wrapped in a soft fluffy cloud, but it wasn’t enough to help him. Topher hurt in a place he didn’t think even the penetrating power of the Voice could reach.
“Tell me about Dominic,” Topher heard himself say. No, not say: demand. He thought it might have been the first time he ever demanded in his life. “Tell me about you and him.”
“There isn’t much to say.” She was colder, now - evidently Topher had displeased her. Her tone seemed to say she would discuss such things only when she allowed it, which was never.
“He was already a vampire when I met him. We were together three years; it worked, until it didn’t. The details beyond that are irrelevant.”
DeWitt looked to one side, gaze distant. “I’d always viewed it as something of a necessary evil prior to Laurence’s arrival, allowing his kind access here. Yet it wasn’t long before I became his donor. Sometimes fate can take an interesting turn.”
“You said vampire,” Topher noticed. “Except for Dominic, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say 'vampire'.”
DeWitt’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Laurence hates being called-”
“-a ‘sucker. Yeah, I know.” Topher ducked his head. “I know.”
DeWitt didn’t seem as angered by his unwarranted intrusion into her personal life now. More lightly, she said, “I suppose he didn’t explain why.”
“Something about how the word used to mean ‘loser’. And of course he wouldn’t like being called that.”
He was surprised to see her mouth form a humorless smile.
“It doesn’t mean exactly that. More precisely, it used to carry the implication that someone was easily-fooled. Naïve, gullible.”
Resting a hand on the cushions, DeWitt leaned toward him. “Did he tell you anything about how he became what he is? About why?”
“A little,” Topher said, numbly.
DeWitt shook her head ruefully. “He refuses to admit he ever regrets, because regret would imply he spent any amount of time dwelling on the past. Which would be impractical,” she noted, wry. “But, he has regrets. He does.”
She let out a long, soft sigh.
“He has regrets about volunteering for the change in the first place, and it frustrates him to no end. Laurence Dominic does not suffer fools at all, let alone lightly, and it would be his worst nightmare to think himself a fool.”
“He’s not,” Topher said. “He’s…grumpy, and unfriendly, and I think maybe he’s forgotten how to act when he isn’t in the middle of a fight. But he’s clever. Really he is.”
He laced his fingers together tightly, clenching his hands.
“I might be a genius,” he mumbled, “but Dominic is actually smart.”
Topher jumped when he felt DeWitt’s hand on his face. She turned his chin so he was facing her, and he gave her no resistance.
Her eyes were forests of understanding. “Oh Topher,” she said somberly. “You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”
Topher almost choked on the word; it felt thick in his throat.
“Y-yes,” he managed, dropping to a whimper.
Her eyes were probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he didn’t want to look at them any longer. But he couldn’t turn his head away, he was held horribly by her spell, and he knew she could read his every thought by the way she was looking at him.
Thoughts like: Why are you perfect? Why did you have to get there first?
Topher couldn’t compare to a goddess. It hurt him to even think of having to try. He was cowardly, and plain, and he didn’t know how to talk to people - his words always wound up coming out wrong.
It was bad enough thinking someone might want him, period. But somebody wanting him after having the best? Fat chance. No way.
DeWitt stroked him across the forehead, smoothing his hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want. Truly, I am.”
Topher leaned into her as she comforted him, feeling so unhappy he started shutting down again, going back to just physical sensations. Because DeWitt’s skin was smooth against his touch, and she smelled like heaven and music and azaleas, and he could hear her heart beat faintly when she cradled his head to her breast. And Topher thought she really was so perfect he couldn’t even bear to hate her, and anyway being with her was better than thinking about anything at all.
And Topher wasn’t sure what he might have been thinking otherwise when, suddenly, she kissed him.
Her lips were slender and gentle, and they glided against his so easily. Topher opened his eyes to see her guiding his hands.
“Here,” she said tenderly, encouraging.
Of course DeWitt would understand: the Orphanarium was where you went to forget. And she ruled the Orphanarium.
Sometimes feeding the senses of the body was the only way to forget the mind.
*
It was morning when Topher came back to the room, and he supposed he wasn’t surprised at all to find Dominic out in the hall waiting for him.
“Well? What did she want you for?” Dominic demanded. “What took so long?”
Topher could barely look at him. “Later,” he mumbled, trying to brush past.
But Dominic wasn’t having any of that. Eyes narrowed he grabbed Topher by the arm.
“I’m not done with you.”
But that wasn’t right, Topher thought, because he definitely was. He was done with Topher, in fact he always had been. He’d never really cared about him in the first place. All he was to Dominic was a burden, an annoying liability.
No matter what Topher might have wanted he couldn’t bear to fool himself any longer. Dominic would never see him like that. How could he? Topher’s blood wasn’t good enough to drink even when he was hungry.
He was cut out for better things. And Topher knew all too well exactly what those were.
He could still remember what her hair smelled like, lingering phantom caresses clinging to him, still feel himself so tight inside her. Making love to Adelle DeWitt had made him feel even younger and innocent than he was, with her guiding him every step, dominating him, protective and soothing of him even then. It was strangely maternal and would have probably felt sick or wrong - except it was the Voice so it felt absolutely right, the only way it should, natural and perfect like all the rest of her.
But even when he was in her bed Topher was inferior to her. He was sure it wasn’t like that when she was with Dominic. It made him heartsick with jealousy to think about it, something of which he could never even dream.
“Topher,” Dominic snapped, driven to impatience by his long reverie. “What has gotten into you? You’ve always been an antisocial little freak, but at least you knew how to talk. What, have you signed up for the Orphanarium’s treatment? Are you high?”
Dominic shook him and that was able to wake Topher up. He looked down at Dominic’s hand, the fingers encircling his forearm.
Like always Dominic’s skin was cool to the touch and even after having spent the night with DeWitt, Topher knew which he preferred. Whose touch he liked best.
“I haven’t been feeling so well lately,” he offered Dominic, voice so feeble he probably really did sound sick.
Dominic huffed in aggravation. “Is that supposed to be an excuse? I tell you what, I have had it up to here with you. I’ve been driving myself to distraction, struggling to figure you out, and I’m getting sick of trying.”
“So why don’t you stop?” Topher snapped. He pushed Dominic’s arm off - the ‘sucker stared at him. “No one’s making you put up with me, are they?”
Dominic’s brow wrinkled as his frown reappeared. “What are you so mad at me for?” he demanded, indignant.
“You…didn’t…” Topher struggled with his words. Something broke at last and he drew a breath, gazing at Dominic, openly wounded. His entire insides from his throat all the way down to the hollow of his chest felt aching and raw.
“DeWitt’s your donor,” he said, desperately. “She’s your donor, and you love her.”
Dominic stared at him wide-eyed. He looked like he wanted to argue but for once he was the one that couldn’t speak.
Topher shuddering, voice softening. “You’ll always love her, and you’re never going to stop.”
Dominic frowned again, probably confused by the mournful resignation in Topher’s tone. He said at length, “So?”
Topher just looked at him. “I think I might…like you,” he said pathetically. “You know - like you.”
Whatever he’d expected Dominic’s reaction to be, it was even worse.
Dominic looked at with him condescension, and incredulity, and scorn. “You’re not really my type."
He didn’t say anything else, like that was enough. Topher supposed that it was.
Topher went inside the room and lay on his stomach, pulling a pillow over his head. He didn’t know what Dominic did. He wasn’t paying attention.
But later, after Dominic was gone, Topher went out to send a message.
It didn’t take as long as he thought. By that evening he was back in the secret room with Echo, waiting.
At exactly midnight Caroline Farrell walked in through another hidden door.
She looked at her doppel with clear-cut disdain. “This had better be important,” she said. “It’s not exactly easy going, sneaking into this place, and…”
Caroline trailed off in surprised wariness when Topher stepped forward and she saw him.
“I’m the one who asked her to send for you. I’ve been thinking about things, and I changed my mind. I want to join the Revolution.”
Topher swallowed thickly. His gaze dropped to the floor.
“Now, please,” he asked. “Take me out of here.”
*
Over the next few days Dominic all but ignored Topher, not saying anything when he chose to leave the room.
Topher couldn’t decide if it was because of the understanding that DeWitt’s people were watching them (and presumably able to intervene in the event he got into trouble), or because Dominic was in too bad a mood to care.
Either way, Topher took advantage of the opportunity. With nothing else to do he explored the Orphanarium, watching the crowds and taking in every sensation. He was getting more used to people.
But he still wasn’t able to fully wrap his mind around the mystery that was Dominic.
He wasn’t afraid of the ‘sucker anymore. He intimidated him, still - but that was just Dominic.
Maybe it was just that Topher hadn’t interacted with somebody regularly in so long. But he could be honest with himself, and he knew that he liked having Dominic around him; which was just plain weird, considering how little they had in common and how not very long ago Topher thought all ‘suckers were monsters that weren’t to be trusted.
But he did trust Dominic. More than he thought he’d ever trusted anybody else.
And despite the arguments and annoyances, with Dominic ignoring him, Topher found he missed their conversations.
Not that a conversation was anywhere near to being on his mind, when he walked in on Dominic getting out of the shower.
Dominic was wet-haired, shirtless, and in the process of pulling on his pants. He glanced up at Topher with something that read as aggravation.
“Think that maybe you could knock the next time?”
“Oh!” Topher was paralyzed. His mouth rounded into a shell-shocked gape. “Oh…oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
“Calm down, I’m not that pissed off,” Dominic said. He finished buckling his belt and shrugged. “Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, right?”
Topher gazed blankly at Dominic’s well-developed torso. He wrapped an arm across his own scrawny frame.
“Um.”
Dominic seemed oblivious of Topher’s conundrum. “Figures I finally decide to get cleaned up, and you’d come waltzing back in here. Your sense of timing really is that impeccable.”
“I’m sorry,” Topher repeated.
Dominic rolled his eyes. He tugged his shirt on over his head, mussing his hair in the process. When he reached to fix it Topher felt a mild sense of disappointment.
After a silent moment, Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re still standing there staring at me?”
“Um! I just…” Topher dropped his head, tangling fingers in his hair. “Not used to nudity,” he offered, weakly. “Especially other people’s.”
“Christ. I knew it.” Dominic smirked. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”
“What? No!” Topher was affronted. “I had a girlfriend, remember?”
“Who slept in a separate bed,” Dominic noted dryly.
“That was just for when she spent the night! Having sex is one thing, but sleeping together in the actual literal sense can be…awkward. There’s less space, and all those extra limbs…”
Dominic’s frown grew as he realized he was being serious.
Topher sucked in a breath, finishing, “But we made it past third base, all the way to home plate and around the park again. Several times!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.” Dominic had his hands up in a placating gesture. “I don’t think you can fault me for assuming though. You get kind of weird around people.” He paused. “Weirder, anyway.”
Topher didn’t say anything else, but he still smarted from the perceived blow as he went to get something to eat. He was aware of Dominic watching as he fiddled with the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?” Topher offered. “Cus, um, if you are…”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“No, really.” Topher waved a wrist, distantly aware he sounded just a bit too eager. “I don’t mind.”
Dominic’s face darkened.
“Don’t make me your new addiction,” he said sharply. “I don’t have any patience for that.”
Topher turned away again, huffing. “It was just an offer.”
So what if he liked the way it felt when Dominic fed on him? There was nothing wrong with that. It was human nature to seek out things that brought pleasure.
Topher loaded up a bowl of sugary cereal, topping it off with berry flakes and sweetened milk. He sat down and dug in.
Dominic made a face of disgust. “How can you stand that?” he demanded. “With an entire catalogue of flavors at your disposal, I don’t understand how you could possibly keep eating all that junk.”
“I like it.” Topher put a big spoonful in his mouth and kept talking. “What I don’t understand is why you get all feather-ruffled over it. So I like noshing on junk food. What do you care?”
Dominic’s expression shifted, irritation fading.
“Jealousy, I guess,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t dwell on it, or anything. But sometimes I just really miss the taste of food.”
Topher’s hand froze partway to his mouth. “Oh.” He hadn’t considered it. “You can’t…right.”
He set down his spoon.
“Can’t you just eat it anyway? I mean, it wouldn’t exactly do anything for you, cus your immune system would rip it to shreds before it digested. But it’s not like people eat just because they need the carbs.”
Dominic shook his head. “Nothing tastes right, anymore. It’s like swallowing ash.”
“Oh,” Topher said again.
He supposed he’d be annoyed with someone too, if they had an entire sense that he was missing and they were wasting it.
Topher looked at his soggy cereal. He didn’t feel like eating it anymore.
“Oh, come on. Don’t do that.” Dominic scoffed. “Don’t sulk just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t…” Topher pushed his bowl away. “I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Dominic came over and rotated the other chair, sitting with arms folded across the back. “I’ll eat, if you eat.”
Topher looked up, taking in his implication.
“Go on.” Dominic gestured. “You’ll need your strength if you’re going to be losing blood.”
Topher started shoveling eagerly.
“Don’t choke,” commented Dominic, wryly.
“Sorry,” Topher mumbled. Dominic was giving him the “God you’re such a spaz” face again. He swallowed. “I never used to understand how anyone could want to be a donor. No offense.”
“None taken,” Dominic deadpanned.
“But if that’s how it feels to get bitten by one of you guys, every time…” Topher shivered slightly at the pleasurable memory.
“It’s not that simple. Yeah, there are people who actively seek out vampires, just looking to get fed on.” Dominic scowled. “Addicts. Pleasure-junkies of yet one more kind. But taking on a donor is different from that.”
Topher pushed his empty bowl away. “Like how?”
“There’s a connection between the two. A strong one. That only gets stronger every time. Feeding from them feels better, and different, from anyone else. That’s why you never drink from others once you have a donor. You don’t want to.”
Topher felt something clench in his stomach. He was still scared of other ‘suckers. But Dominic was different.
He thought about what it would be like to know he could stay with Dominic always, that he’d always look after him; that Topher’s blood would be the only thing Dominic would ever need.
“But how do you pick a donor? How do they find you?”
“It just happens.” Dominic gave a tight shrug. “No one’s sure why or how. Body chemistry, they think. You just meet someone and, boom. Instant connection.”
What about near-instant, Topher thought. What about when you were frightened of someone at first because they were bigger than you and strong and you’d had a bad day, but over time you got used to them and realized they were pretty and kind of funny and you liked the way their skin was always cool to the touch and the way they smelled? What about that? Could that work, too?
Topher said softly, “Sounds kind of like falling in love.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Dominic jerked abruptly, not so much getting out of the chair as violently shoving his body away from it. Topher flinched.
“It’s exactly like falling in love,” Dominic snapped. “It makes you do stupid things, and fool yourself into thinking it can last forever. But donor relationships can end, just like any other. And it’s always bad when they do. You can’t be that happy and lose it without feeling the hurt.”
He shook his head. “At least I know never to make the same mistake again.”
“But you might find somebody or, or, get to know somebody-”
“No. I won’t. There’s nobody out there. Trust me.”
Topher lifted his hand. He started to reach for him. “But…” His voice was very small, trembling. “But I think…I think that I might…”
Dominic glowered at him, impatient.
“What, Topher? You think you might what?”
His face was cold. No emotion, no encouragement. Nothing.
Topher’s hand dropped. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Dominic scowled, and turned his back on him.
“Wait,” Topher called, weakly. “You promised…I thought you said…”
“I changed my mind,” Dominic snapped.
He exited the room, leaving Topher all alone with the empty feeling in his chest.
*
It was three days later when Topher was in the Orphanarium by himself and he saw Whiskey.
“Oh. Hey,” he greeted her uneasily. Something about her really unnerved him. Possibly the scars, or just the stare.
Whiskey gazed back at him. “Hello.”
“I’m kind of surprised to see you,” Topher remarked. “With all these people around, the odds are pretty slim on us crossing paths again.”
“I can be easy to find,” Whiskey stated, simply.
“That a fact?”
“People know that through me they can reach Echo, or Caroline.”
Topher blinked. “Echo is in contact with Caroline?”
“When she wants to be. It’s rare.”
Topher decided that made it unlikely the doppel had told her that Topher was there. “Great. By all means, let’s keep that relationship a distant one. A card every once and again at holidays, perhaps. Anything more would probably be wearing out your welcome.”
Whiskey took him in. “You seem unhappy.”
Topher sighed and sat down on the floor. “Whiskey, what would you do if you liked someone, and they didn’t like you back?”
He didn’t exactly expect her to answer. But he was getting sick of the lumpy knot tied up inside him of all the things he was feeling and not saying; he wanted to untangle it a little. And venting at Whiskey made him feel marginally less stupid than venting at the wall.
Whiskey blinked once slowly. “How do you know if someone doesn’t like you back?”
Topher made a frustrated gesture. “You tell them, of course.”
“And that’s what you did?”
“I…no.” Topher stopped. He stared off dimly. “I didn’t. I mean…not really.”
Whiskey just looked at him. She seemed confused. Topher didn’t blame her. It didn’t make a lot of sense, actually.
He got to his feet. “I’ll see you around.”
Whiskey nodded. “You will.”
He had to find Dominic and talk to him before he lost the nerve.
Dominic wasn’t in their room. Topher looked around sort of at a loss, because he didn’t really know where else he would be.
Then Topher noticed that the Voice was between performances, and something occurred to him. With some difficulty he was able to locate that one security man, Langton.
“Dominic is meeting with the Voice again, isn’t he?” Topher demanded. “I need to see him. It’s urgent.”
Langton’s eyebrows went up. But he led him back to the dressing room.
“She made it clear she doesn’t want to be disturbed,” he told Topher. “You can wait for him out here.”
Langton left him again, and Topher paced impatiently. He certainly wasn’t about to barge in on the Voice, or Dominic for that matter, but he was getting really bored waiting. He wondered what they were talking about.
Then it came to him he was in a position to finally get some answers.
He checked the door, and found it unlocked. Carefully Topher pried it open a crack.
DeWitt and Dominic were near the center of the room. Topher had a perfect view.
DeWitt’s hand was outstretched, fingers delicately stroking Dominic’s tattoo. Dominic had a dark look on his face, but he didn’t move away.
“You didn’t have it removed.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. There would have been a scar. Every time I looked at it, I would still remember. Why bother?”
She pulled her hand away. “And you were so eager to forget?”
He broke eye contact with her, glaring a hole into the floor.
DeWitt waited a moment.
“Three years, Laurence. Three perfect years-”
“That you ended.”
“Don’t you miss me at all?” She stepped even closer to him; Dominic lifted his head, looking like he wanted to pull away but couldn’t. They stared into each other’s eyes. “Are you really going to try and tell me that I mean nothing to you, now?”
“You mean something,” Dominic said. His eyes were accusing and angry. “A world of agony.”
“Because it hurts you to be apart from me, doesn’t it? I know.”
The Voice raised her hands, resting them on the sides of the ‘sucker’s face.
“I’ve suffered it too.”
Topher stood where he was, feeling himself shrink smaller and smaller as he stared. Even as it felt like something inside of him was cracking, he couldn’t let go of the door handle and move away.
“Adelle,” Dominic breathed, pleading. “Don’t.”
“You still care about me. I know that you do. I know you do because I still care about you.” She smiled delicately. “And we worked so well because we have so much in common, didn’t we? We’ve always been a perfect set.”
“I still care about you. I still care about you, but god, I…” Dominic cupped her face like he was touching something holy.
DeWitt kissed him. Her hands looped around his shoulders as she held herself to him. Dominic touched her hair, and her throat, brushing one hand beneath her dressing-gown to caress her legs.
Holding her by the waist, Dominic rested his face beside DeWitt’s, murmuring something in her ear.
Topher went very still, barely breathing, as he listened.
He realized Dominic was singing to her, lowly, very slow. “Darling”, an old tune of the Orphanarium that was never performed anymore.
Topher thought that he didn’t have the worst voice in the world.
DeWitt held him tight. She hummed along, eyes closing, and she had never been more gorgeous. “I want you, Laurence.” Tilting her head, she bared the softness of that perfect white neck to him. “Do it. You know you want to.”
The last words were a whisper: “Take me.”
No, don’t, Topher thought.
Dominic did. Bliss so strong and heady it almost looked like pain crossed his face, as he sank his fangs into her. DeWitt breathed out, sighing. Her lips were parted and her lashes fluttered, and Topher thought her face couldn’t be more awe-inspiring, more striking in its portrayal of pleasure.
Topher probably didn’t look anything like that when Dominic bit him. He probably had a weird expression, looked awkward, looked exactly the way he felt when it happened: like a child, overwhelmed.
There was a creaking sound as the door moved, the weight of Topher’s body slumping into it.
The couple in the room froze, looking up at him. DeWitt just looked confused to see someone standing there. Dominic was far more startled.
“I’m sorry,” Topher croaked. The words felt hard to get out, buried inside his chest. “I d-didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”
He walked very quickly away.
He jerked like a dog at the end of its lead when Dominic came after him, seizing a hold of his arm.
“Topher…” Dominic was frowning. For the first time since Topher met him, he looked like he might not be sure what was going on.
Topher found himself staring up at his face.
Dominic’s eyes were lighter now that he had fed - much lighter, a distinct shade of pale blue. It made his face look different. It almost made him look like another person.
Topher thought about the song, “Darling”. It was from an odd corner of the repertoire, one people didn’t think of very often. The Voice never sang it anymore. She hadn’t for years.
There were still the old recordings, and Topher had thought it was a weird song the first couple times he’d heard it. As far as he’d been able to tell it was about being tortured, words about being in the palm of someone’s hand, overwrought and controlled.
It was Ivy in the height of her fixation that finally explained it to him. “It’s a love song,” she’d said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s about how it feels to be in love with someone so much you think you’re going crazy, and yet you live for every minute of it.”
“Darling”, Topher distantly recalled, had been debuted and then performed constantly, before suddenly being dropped from the set as if it never existed. The short period of its heyday was probably about three years.
Topher remembered one of the recordings he’d seen of the Voice singing it. The stage was different then, DeWitt on the same level as the band instead of higher, separated. She used to interact with them a little as she performed. The lead guitarist in particular she would constantly play with, look towards. And the entire time she was doing “Darling”, it wasn’t like she was singing for the audience. It was like she was singing it for him.
Topher remembered how that guitarist smiled at the singer. He remembered that that man had light blond hair. He remembered that his eyes were pale blue.
Topher’s eyes fell to the tattoo on Dominic’s arm, its twisting blacklight pattern. He thought he could make out the letters now.
“A, D, E, L…it says ‘Adelle’, doesn’t it? That’s what you called her.” Topher met Dominic’s gaze. “She was your donor.”
Dominic’s face was closed-off, undecipherable. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Really?” Topher returned, knowing he sounded like a smartass. “Because I gotta tell you, back there it kind of looked like it does.”
Dominic glared, but even as his mouth was opening Langton approached them in the hallway.
“DeWitt wants to see you. Alone.”
Dominic snapped at him, “Not now.”
Langton didn’t even blink. He met him with a stoic expression. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Dominic fell silent, taken aback. His eyes trailed to Topher. “She wants…him?”
Topher knew he should feel intimidated, that the Voice was requesting him for a private audience. He knew he should feel overwhelmed. Frightened. Or flattered, even.
Instead, he found he didn’t feel much of anything at all. He had somehow managed to successfully stuff his emotions down where, for the moment, they couldn’t reach him.
Topher didn’t want to think about what would happen later when they could.
He didn’t meet Dominic’s eyes this time when he spoke.
“I’ll see you later.”
*
“I wasn’t trying to spy on you,” was the first thing that Topher said, quietly. He wasn’t looking at her, because he didn’t think he could bear to take in how flawless she was. “I was just-”
“I think, Topher, that I have finally had an idea for how you could be allowed to stay here,” DeWitt interrupted him. She seemed to be pretending that she hadn’t heard him. She was smiling faintly.
“Are you interested to hear it?”
Topher dragged his toe across the floor. “I…sure. Whatever.”
She did not let his lack of enthusiasm sway her. “Apparently, you need a place to be which is relatively safe from Revolutionary intrusion. Since the Orphanarium will obviously suffice, I thought perhaps you might be persuaded to join my staff.”
Topher did look at her then. Blankly.
“I don’t think I would make a very good member of your security team. I tend to be the one that needs saving and defending.”
He thought of Dominic, and all those rescues. Something soured in his gut.
She laughed airily. “No, that wasn’t quite what I meant. But you have skills with technology, do you not?”
“What, you mean you want me to join your tech squad? Setting up microphone cords, doing special effects pyrotechnics?”
“Believe it or not the performance is only one aspect of what we do here,” the Voice reminded him. She was more serious, almost harsh. “Someone with your expertise with code manipulation could come in handy for keeping our defensive grid secure against outside attack.”
He was wanted for his hacking skills again. Just like the Revolution. Just like when Caroline and Paul showed up at his door and started this whole mess. But why not? Of course people would only want him for what he could do, and not as a person. As a person, he was worthless, pathetic - he sucked.
“Topher? Are you all right?”
DeWitt was frowning at him with alarm, and in that instant Topher was aware that he was not all right. Somehow he’d wound up hunched over partially, hugging himself.
He was breathing in tiny, sort of wheezing gasps, and it took him awhile to remember that this was it felt like when you were struggling not to cry.
“Here. Come here.” DeWitt guided him over to her couch, soothing him. “Shhh. It’s alright.”
She offered him something to drink and Topher took the glass - she was the Voice, of course he would do whatever she said. But he didn’t bring it to his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him, her words full of care.
Just feeling her worry about him was like being wrapped in a soft fluffy cloud, but it wasn’t enough to help him. Topher hurt in a place he didn’t think even the penetrating power of the Voice could reach.
“Tell me about Dominic,” Topher heard himself say. No, not say: demand. He thought it might have been the first time he ever demanded in his life. “Tell me about you and him.”
“There isn’t much to say.” She was colder, now - evidently Topher had displeased her. Her tone seemed to say she would discuss such things only when she allowed it, which was never.
“He was already a vampire when I met him. We were together three years; it worked, until it didn’t. The details beyond that are irrelevant.”
DeWitt looked to one side, gaze distant. “I’d always viewed it as something of a necessary evil prior to Laurence’s arrival, allowing his kind access here. Yet it wasn’t long before I became his donor. Sometimes fate can take an interesting turn.”
“You said vampire,” Topher noticed. “Except for Dominic, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say 'vampire'.”
DeWitt’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Laurence hates being called-”
“-a ‘sucker. Yeah, I know.” Topher ducked his head. “I know.”
DeWitt didn’t seem as angered by his unwarranted intrusion into her personal life now. More lightly, she said, “I suppose he didn’t explain why.”
“Something about how the word used to mean ‘loser’. And of course he wouldn’t like being called that.”
He was surprised to see her mouth form a humorless smile.
“It doesn’t mean exactly that. More precisely, it used to carry the implication that someone was easily-fooled. Naïve, gullible.”
Resting a hand on the cushions, DeWitt leaned toward him. “Did he tell you anything about how he became what he is? About why?”
“A little,” Topher said, numbly.
DeWitt shook her head ruefully. “He refuses to admit he ever regrets, because regret would imply he spent any amount of time dwelling on the past. Which would be impractical,” she noted, wry. “But, he has regrets. He does.”
She let out a long, soft sigh.
“He has regrets about volunteering for the change in the first place, and it frustrates him to no end. Laurence Dominic does not suffer fools at all, let alone lightly, and it would be his worst nightmare to think himself a fool.”
“He’s not,” Topher said. “He’s…grumpy, and unfriendly, and I think maybe he’s forgotten how to act when he isn’t in the middle of a fight. But he’s clever. Really he is.”
He laced his fingers together tightly, clenching his hands.
“I might be a genius,” he mumbled, “but Dominic is actually smart.”
Topher jumped when he felt DeWitt’s hand on his face. She turned his chin so he was facing her, and he gave her no resistance.
Her eyes were forests of understanding. “Oh Topher,” she said somberly. “You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”
Topher almost choked on the word; it felt thick in his throat.
“Y-yes,” he managed, dropping to a whimper.
Her eyes were probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he didn’t want to look at them any longer. But he couldn’t turn his head away, he was held horribly by her spell, and he knew she could read his every thought by the way she was looking at him.
Thoughts like: Why are you perfect? Why did you have to get there first?
Topher couldn’t compare to a goddess. It hurt him to even think of having to try. He was cowardly, and plain, and he didn’t know how to talk to people - his words always wound up coming out wrong.
It was bad enough thinking someone might want him, period. But somebody wanting him after having the best? Fat chance. No way.
DeWitt stroked him across the forehead, smoothing his hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want. Truly, I am.”
Topher leaned into her as she comforted him, feeling so unhappy he started shutting down again, going back to just physical sensations. Because DeWitt’s skin was smooth against his touch, and she smelled like heaven and music and azaleas, and he could hear her heart beat faintly when she cradled his head to her breast. And Topher thought she really was so perfect he couldn’t even bear to hate her, and anyway being with her was better than thinking about anything at all.
And Topher wasn’t sure what he might have been thinking otherwise when, suddenly, she kissed him.
Her lips were slender and gentle, and they glided against his so easily. Topher opened his eyes to see her guiding his hands.
“Here,” she said tenderly, encouraging.
Of course DeWitt would understand: the Orphanarium was where you went to forget. And she ruled the Orphanarium.
Sometimes feeding the senses of the body was the only way to forget the mind.
*
It was morning when Topher came back to the room, and he supposed he wasn’t surprised at all to find Dominic out in the hall waiting for him.
“Well? What did she want you for?” Dominic demanded. “What took so long?”
Topher could barely look at him. “Later,” he mumbled, trying to brush past.
But Dominic wasn’t having any of that. Eyes narrowed he grabbed Topher by the arm.
“I’m not done with you.”
But that wasn’t right, Topher thought, because he definitely was. He was done with Topher, in fact he always had been. He’d never really cared about him in the first place. All he was to Dominic was a burden, an annoying liability.
No matter what Topher might have wanted he couldn’t bear to fool himself any longer. Dominic would never see him like that. How could he? Topher’s blood wasn’t good enough to drink even when he was hungry.
He was cut out for better things. And Topher knew all too well exactly what those were.
He could still remember what her hair smelled like, lingering phantom caresses clinging to him, still feel himself so tight inside her. Making love to Adelle DeWitt had made him feel even younger and innocent than he was, with her guiding him every step, dominating him, protective and soothing of him even then. It was strangely maternal and would have probably felt sick or wrong - except it was the Voice so it felt absolutely right, the only way it should, natural and perfect like all the rest of her.
But even when he was in her bed Topher was inferior to her. He was sure it wasn’t like that when she was with Dominic. It made him heartsick with jealousy to think about it, something of which he could never even dream.
“Topher,” Dominic snapped, driven to impatience by his long reverie. “What has gotten into you? You’ve always been an antisocial little freak, but at least you knew how to talk. What, have you signed up for the Orphanarium’s treatment? Are you high?”
Dominic shook him and that was able to wake Topher up. He looked down at Dominic’s hand, the fingers encircling his forearm.
Like always Dominic’s skin was cool to the touch and even after having spent the night with DeWitt, Topher knew which he preferred. Whose touch he liked best.
“I haven’t been feeling so well lately,” he offered Dominic, voice so feeble he probably really did sound sick.
Dominic huffed in aggravation. “Is that supposed to be an excuse? I tell you what, I have had it up to here with you. I’ve been driving myself to distraction, struggling to figure you out, and I’m getting sick of trying.”
“So why don’t you stop?” Topher snapped. He pushed Dominic’s arm off - the ‘sucker stared at him. “No one’s making you put up with me, are they?”
Dominic’s brow wrinkled as his frown reappeared. “What are you so mad at me for?” he demanded, indignant.
“You…didn’t…” Topher struggled with his words. Something broke at last and he drew a breath, gazing at Dominic, openly wounded. His entire insides from his throat all the way down to the hollow of his chest felt aching and raw.
“DeWitt’s your donor,” he said, desperately. “She’s your donor, and you love her.”
Dominic stared at him wide-eyed. He looked like he wanted to argue but for once he was the one that couldn’t speak.
Topher shuddering, voice softening. “You’ll always love her, and you’re never going to stop.”
Dominic frowned again, probably confused by the mournful resignation in Topher’s tone. He said at length, “So?”
Topher just looked at him. “I think I might…like you,” he said pathetically. “You know - like you.”
Whatever he’d expected Dominic’s reaction to be, it was even worse.
Dominic looked at with him condescension, and incredulity, and scorn. “You’re not really my type."
He didn’t say anything else, like that was enough. Topher supposed that it was.
Topher went inside the room and lay on his stomach, pulling a pillow over his head. He didn’t know what Dominic did. He wasn’t paying attention.
But later, after Dominic was gone, Topher went out to send a message.
It didn’t take as long as he thought. By that evening he was back in the secret room with Echo, waiting.
At exactly midnight Caroline Farrell walked in through another hidden door.
She looked at her doppel with clear-cut disdain. “This had better be important,” she said. “It’s not exactly easy going, sneaking into this place, and…”
Caroline trailed off in surprised wariness when Topher stepped forward and she saw him.
“I’m the one who asked her to send for you. I’ve been thinking about things, and I changed my mind. I want to join the Revolution.”
Topher swallowed thickly. His gaze dropped to the floor.
“Now, please,” he asked. “Take me out of here.”