LJ Idol Season 9, Week 20: Intersubjectivity
It's INTERSECTIONS WEEK at LJI, and I have chosen the lovely n3m3sis43 as my partner in crime, this go around. ;) My piece is first in the set, and Sarah's can be found here. :) Wes and Devin are not mine, alas. They are the brainchildren of Sarah. :)
***
At least Princess can shoot. What can that fool Wes do? Nothing, that’s what. He’s a liability, a weakness -- ain’t no way we’re gonna be able to rescue your brother with those two dragging us down.
Calla said that to Brendan hours ago and it still hurts and my eyes sting just thinking about it. And it’s all I can do to think that she’s right -- all I can do is gather information and even that I can’t do right. That’s why I’m sitting out here, at the crest of a sandy hill, binocs in my hands and eyes trained on the guards standing at least several hundred feet away from me. Because I can’t break through the firewalls in place to figure out the compound’s defense systems or how to disarm them.
Devin would know how to break through them, except he’s been busy with his job at WeaponsDev and maintaining his cover. I can’t ask him to help me. He’ll just tell me it’s too dangerous, that I’ll get hurt and that I should just go back home to my family, where it’s safe.
But I really couldn’t leave him behind like that. If it’s too dangerous for me, it’s probably too dangerous for him, too, and I wouldn’t want him to get hurt without me there to take care of him. He and Calla and Brendan kinda wouldn’t know what to do without me, if I didn’t cook or clean or -- it doesn’t matter. Those things aren’t really useful, anyway.
It’s been hours though and the guards haven’t so much as moved from their post and I have to pee and what if I miss the shift change and --
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Wes?”
I must be hallucinating, because there’s no way Devin’s talking to me right now. He should be back at home, eating the dinner I made for everyone before I left, and --
“Wes!” he snaps, this time his voice even louder. I even hear footsteps and I swear I can smell the floral scent of his shampoo. When the binocs are ripped from my hands it’s all I can do to stare at him, my mouth dropping open in surprise. “What are you doing out here, dude?” he repeats, glaring down at me with his arms crossed over his chest. “Been fucking worried about you.”
“Devin!” I push myself onto my feet and launch myself at him, tackling him to the ground.
“The fuck are you --!”
“Shut up, dude!” I hiss while narrowing my eyes at him. “They can probably hear you all the way over at the compound!”
Devin blinks and then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pushes me off him and sits upright, those long fingers of his flying to his hair in an effort to fix any loose strands. “What compound?” he asks and his brow wrinkles in confusion as he glances around us.
“The one they’re keeping Kalen captive at, dude,” I answer as I sit upright, too.
His eyes grow wide and his mouth drops open, and I can tell he’s been walking around the desert for a while looking for me because I can see the sweat on his forehead and how it rolls down the perfect curve of his nose. I wanna ask how he even managed to find me but before I can get the words out his jaw clenches and he turns to me. “We’re going home. Now.”
“I’m not leaving,” I say and my voice comes out high and squeaky. I reach for my binocs and return to lying down on the ground. “They haven’t changed shifts yet and I’m not leaving until I find out when they do --”
“Probably a twenty-four hour shift, Wes,” Devin says as he stands up from the ground. “Can’t stay out here all night.”
“I can, too! I have food and water and everything else I need back at the car, and so I’m not gonna leave, dude. I gotta find out when they do their shift change and maybe we can use it somehow to have Brendan and Calla get past security or something so we can rescue Kalen --”
“This is all because of Calla, isn’t it?” Devin says with a huff. He puts a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. “Just come home. Please? Can talk better there.”
“I already told you, dude, I’m not leav --” Devin flattens himself against the ground and grabs me, covering me with his body. High pitched noises fill the air like that of the nanoblasters we have back at home, except I’m not sure where its coming from and Devin’s shouting something in my ear and dragging me away from my vantage point on top of the hill and --
“Need to get back to the car!” Devin says once the fire’s ceased. The sand’s still exploding around us and probably giving us cover in a way. “Now.”
We’re scrambling down the other side of the hill before I know it. Devin’s in front of me and his hair billows behind him. He’s fast, faster than I’ve ever seen him and I almost lose sight of him. He makes it to the car before I do and climbs into the driver’s seat. My heart’s pounding in my ears and I can’t breathe by the time I catch up and slip into the passenger seat, though I somehow manage to shove the keys into Devin’s hand.
He starts the car without a word and we’re speeding away from the hill without so much as an explanation of what just happened. Devin’s not even out of breath and every strand of his hair still seems to be in place as he drives, both hands on the steering wheel for once and his eyes glued to the road. He won’t even look at me, not even to ask if I’m okay, and just as I’m catching my breath and we’ve driven several miles away, I start thinking he’s mad at me.
Once we’ve driven back into the city, he pulls into an empty parking lot and stops the car and crosses his arms over his chest. “Hope you’re fucking happy,” he mutters, glowering at me. “Could’ve gotten us both killed.”
I stare back at him, my mouth falling open for a moment and my eyes filling with tears. He is mad at me. “I -- I didn’t think--”
“‘Course you didn’t, Wes. You never fucking think these things through. What if you got shot? What if I got shot? Calla and Brendan wouldn’t have even fucking known --”
“It’s not like they would have cared if either one of us got hurt, anyway,” I grumble and my voice goes all high and squeaky once again as I cross my own arms over my chest. “They think I’m useless --”
“‘Cause you don’t think, or you think too fucking much and you psych yourself out. Shouldn’t just go running off and --” Devin stops himself and puts his head in his hands with a frustrated sigh. He pulls his hands away from his face and looks at me, in a way he’s never looked at me before, and I swear I can’t breathe as he reaches for my face and directs my eyes towards his. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not useless, okay, Wes? I --”
And I swear everything just stops as he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “I need you,” he finishes as he pulls away from me, but it’s only just enough so that he can speak and our foreheads are touching and his hand is still on my cheek. And he’s so real and beautiful I almost can’t concentrate on what he’s saying, but I manage to focus on the way his lips are moving and on the pitch and timbre of his voice. “Don’t know what I’d -- what I’d fucking do without you, okay?” He swallows and his eyes glitter with unshed tears. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, alright? Not without telling me about it, first. I can help you -- make sure shit’s safe, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, and I nod my head and somehow find my breath even though I still feel as though there’s this huge weight crushing my chest. When he kisses me again, it’s all I can do to reciprocate and wrap my arms around him as best as I can while inside the car.
As long as Devin doesn’t think I’m useless, then I guess I’m not. He would tell me if I was.
Wouldn’t he?
***
At least Princess can shoot. What can that fool Wes do? Nothing, that’s what. He’s a liability, a weakness -- ain’t no way we’re gonna be able to rescue your brother with those two dragging us down.
Calla said that to Brendan hours ago and it still hurts and my eyes sting just thinking about it. And it’s all I can do to think that she’s right -- all I can do is gather information and even that I can’t do right. That’s why I’m sitting out here, at the crest of a sandy hill, binocs in my hands and eyes trained on the guards standing at least several hundred feet away from me. Because I can’t break through the firewalls in place to figure out the compound’s defense systems or how to disarm them.
Devin would know how to break through them, except he’s been busy with his job at WeaponsDev and maintaining his cover. I can’t ask him to help me. He’ll just tell me it’s too dangerous, that I’ll get hurt and that I should just go back home to my family, where it’s safe.
But I really couldn’t leave him behind like that. If it’s too dangerous for me, it’s probably too dangerous for him, too, and I wouldn’t want him to get hurt without me there to take care of him. He and Calla and Brendan kinda wouldn’t know what to do without me, if I didn’t cook or clean or -- it doesn’t matter. Those things aren’t really useful, anyway.
It’s been hours though and the guards haven’t so much as moved from their post and I have to pee and what if I miss the shift change and --
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Wes?”
I must be hallucinating, because there’s no way Devin’s talking to me right now. He should be back at home, eating the dinner I made for everyone before I left, and --
“Wes!” he snaps, this time his voice even louder. I even hear footsteps and I swear I can smell the floral scent of his shampoo. When the binocs are ripped from my hands it’s all I can do to stare at him, my mouth dropping open in surprise. “What are you doing out here, dude?” he repeats, glaring down at me with his arms crossed over his chest. “Been fucking worried about you.”
“Devin!” I push myself onto my feet and launch myself at him, tackling him to the ground.
“The fuck are you --!”
“Shut up, dude!” I hiss while narrowing my eyes at him. “They can probably hear you all the way over at the compound!”
Devin blinks and then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pushes me off him and sits upright, those long fingers of his flying to his hair in an effort to fix any loose strands. “What compound?” he asks and his brow wrinkles in confusion as he glances around us.
“The one they’re keeping Kalen captive at, dude,” I answer as I sit upright, too.
His eyes grow wide and his mouth drops open, and I can tell he’s been walking around the desert for a while looking for me because I can see the sweat on his forehead and how it rolls down the perfect curve of his nose. I wanna ask how he even managed to find me but before I can get the words out his jaw clenches and he turns to me. “We’re going home. Now.”
“I’m not leaving,” I say and my voice comes out high and squeaky. I reach for my binocs and return to lying down on the ground. “They haven’t changed shifts yet and I’m not leaving until I find out when they do --”
“Probably a twenty-four hour shift, Wes,” Devin says as he stands up from the ground. “Can’t stay out here all night.”
“I can, too! I have food and water and everything else I need back at the car, and so I’m not gonna leave, dude. I gotta find out when they do their shift change and maybe we can use it somehow to have Brendan and Calla get past security or something so we can rescue Kalen --”
“This is all because of Calla, isn’t it?” Devin says with a huff. He puts a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. “Just come home. Please? Can talk better there.”
“I already told you, dude, I’m not leav --” Devin flattens himself against the ground and grabs me, covering me with his body. High pitched noises fill the air like that of the nanoblasters we have back at home, except I’m not sure where its coming from and Devin’s shouting something in my ear and dragging me away from my vantage point on top of the hill and --
“Need to get back to the car!” Devin says once the fire’s ceased. The sand’s still exploding around us and probably giving us cover in a way. “Now.”
We’re scrambling down the other side of the hill before I know it. Devin’s in front of me and his hair billows behind him. He’s fast, faster than I’ve ever seen him and I almost lose sight of him. He makes it to the car before I do and climbs into the driver’s seat. My heart’s pounding in my ears and I can’t breathe by the time I catch up and slip into the passenger seat, though I somehow manage to shove the keys into Devin’s hand.
He starts the car without a word and we’re speeding away from the hill without so much as an explanation of what just happened. Devin’s not even out of breath and every strand of his hair still seems to be in place as he drives, both hands on the steering wheel for once and his eyes glued to the road. He won’t even look at me, not even to ask if I’m okay, and just as I’m catching my breath and we’ve driven several miles away, I start thinking he’s mad at me.
Once we’ve driven back into the city, he pulls into an empty parking lot and stops the car and crosses his arms over his chest. “Hope you’re fucking happy,” he mutters, glowering at me. “Could’ve gotten us both killed.”
I stare back at him, my mouth falling open for a moment and my eyes filling with tears. He is mad at me. “I -- I didn’t think--”
“‘Course you didn’t, Wes. You never fucking think these things through. What if you got shot? What if I got shot? Calla and Brendan wouldn’t have even fucking known --”
“It’s not like they would have cared if either one of us got hurt, anyway,” I grumble and my voice goes all high and squeaky once again as I cross my own arms over my chest. “They think I’m useless --”
“‘Cause you don’t think, or you think too fucking much and you psych yourself out. Shouldn’t just go running off and --” Devin stops himself and puts his head in his hands with a frustrated sigh. He pulls his hands away from his face and looks at me, in a way he’s never looked at me before, and I swear I can’t breathe as he reaches for my face and directs my eyes towards his. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not useless, okay, Wes? I --”
And I swear everything just stops as he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “I need you,” he finishes as he pulls away from me, but it’s only just enough so that he can speak and our foreheads are touching and his hand is still on my cheek. And he’s so real and beautiful I almost can’t concentrate on what he’s saying, but I manage to focus on the way his lips are moving and on the pitch and timbre of his voice. “Don’t know what I’d -- what I’d fucking do without you, okay?” He swallows and his eyes glitter with unshed tears. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, alright? Not without telling me about it, first. I can help you -- make sure shit’s safe, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, and I nod my head and somehow find my breath even though I still feel as though there’s this huge weight crushing my chest. When he kisses me again, it’s all I can do to reciprocate and wrap my arms around him as best as I can while inside the car.
As long as Devin doesn’t think I’m useless, then I guess I’m not. He would tell me if I was.
Wouldn’t he?