I Dream a Nation of You (5/5)
It was easy taking the uniform off the guard, and only slightly more difficult to drag his body into the trees. But the hard part came later, after Jon had changed into the dark maroon colors of the Government and gotten back to his post, fumbling to get the hat on straight.
The wire phone crackled suddenly. "Grayson, you all right?" an deep, older voice asked. "You didn't check in earlier."
Jon's heart flew into his mouth as he desperately flipped various switches. He hadn't used a wire phone in years. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that," he finally said into the mouthpiece, laughing sheepishly for good measure. "Thought I saw something in the forest, so I went to investigate." He could felt Helia anxiously watching him from the trees.
There was a long pause, enough time for Jon to start panicking. He didn't know how far Frank and others had gotten, but if the alarm was sounded now, they were all dead.
But then the voice chuckled and replied, "You've been out in the cold too long, Grayson. I'll send Pulero out to relieve you."
Jon almost swallowed his tongue. "Naw, I'm good, really. The fresh air's doing me good."
"You've been out there for almost nine hours now. And you sound like you're coming down with something, your voice is deeper. Don't worry about it, I'm sending Pulero out right now." The line went dead, and Jon gritted his teeth as he slammed his hand into the rotary dial. In a matter of minutes, they'd be caught, and Jon's stupid plan to buy them all time would be ruined.
Just breathe. Helia nudged against Jon's frantic thoughts. You know they're coming, but it's only one, right? We can figure something out-
No matter what I do now, we're running out of time. Jon slumped back against the entrance wall and shut his eyes, trying his damnedest to keep his focus. He pictured Ryan and Frank and Tom in his mind, creeping silently through the compound tunnels, and thought, They're coming soon. You don't have much time.
Instantly, he heard Frank reply, Do what you can. We're almost there.
Jon didn't know what that meant at all-almost to where? Had they found Xira? Had they found anyone? If only he hadn't opted to stay behind and be utterly useless-
He was so lost in his thoughts, he failed to see the hidden door near the mouth of the cave swing open until it was too late. Two men in uniforms identical to the guard's took one look at Jon and froze.
"What the hell, you're not Grayson," the shorter of the two said. "Show me your badge."
Jon smiled weakly and held both hands up. "I...forgot it?" he said, heart racing. He could feel every dragon in the forest go on alert.
The man frowned at Jon, then suddenly his eyes flared. He drew his gun and pointed it straight at Jon. "He's got blood on his collar!" he cried.
Jon watched in horror as the taller man ran over to the wire phone, his gun also aimed at Jon, and dialed a number on the rotary pad. "It's Pulero and Stannon, tell the captain we've got an intruder alert," he said into the mouthpiece.
Stop him, Jon! Helia yelled, just before she tore out of the trees and flew straight at the guard.
The shorter man screamed, "Dragon!" and pointed his gun skyward, but Jon snapped out of his fear and threw his elbow into the man's chin, knocking him back enough to drop the gun. He didn't pause to think for a second as he grabbed the gun and fired two rounds into the man's chest. The taller man tried to fire back at Jon, but Helia wrestled him to the ground, batting the gun away with her tail.
Jon stood over the body, panting, his gun hand tense and trembling only a little. A bloom of red flared out slowly over the front of the dead man's uniform.
"You're Resistance, aren't you?" The guard still left alive sneered at Jon, although he was still a bit breathless from being held down by a dragon twice his size.
Jon pointed the gun at the man's head. "I am," he replied without any hesitation. "And you're going to tell me the easiest way to get into the compound."
The man snorted. "Sure I am. One single worthless Rider and his dragon don't frighten me."
Helia made a growling sound low in her throat, and suddenly the rest of the dragons emerged from the forest. The man saw them approaching just before Helia dug her claws deeper into his chest.
I'm going to shred him, she said softly, and the man gasped as he winced in pain.
"She'll kill you, you know," Jon said calmly. "And it'll be slow and infinitely painful. At least my bullet will make things quick and easy."
"F-fuck you, Rider," the man hissed. Jon could see the first signs of blood trickling out of the holes Helia's claws were making in his uniform.
Jon shoved the muzzle of the gun against the man's temple. "Tell me how to get in, or I'll give you a shot to the gut and leave you for the rest of them." He jerked his head toward the rest of the dragons descending upon them, their eyes flashing.
He could feel the exact moment the man's resolve cracked. "All right, all right! There's a door over there, in the cave wall." He pointed weakly. "It's a secret express tunnel to the facilities."
Jon's stomach went cold. "Facilities?"
"Testing sites. We leave the dragons involved in experimentation there for observation." The man moaned when Helia twisted her claws.
"Are you observing now?" Jon held his breath.
"We're always observing, the Ministers want constant updates."
Jon shoved the gun into the back of his uniform pants and grabbed his rifle as well. C'mon, we've got to find the others, he said to Helia.
She left the man lying on the ground bleeding as Jon climbed into the saddle. Make it slow, she said in a deadly calm voice to the other dragons. The last thing Jon heard as they took off through the secret tunnel were the man's screams.
The passage was almost completely dark, the only light coming from a handful of lamps attached to the cave walls. Helia slunk along the ground, her wings tucked close to her back, shielding Jon, who didn't want to risk flight inside.
See anything? she asked.
Jon shook his head. Nothing yet, I- They rounded a corner, and he was abruptly hit with a wave of emotion so intense, it felt like a brutal punch to the head. He pulled at Helia's reins, falling forward slightly against her neck.
Jon, what is it, what-?
He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead and tried desperately to focus through the devastating pain and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him. I think we've found the facility, he replied slowly, taking deep breaths into his lungs.
Helia pressed closed to the cave wall, her body tense as her tail lashed back and forth. You can feel them, can't you? The ones being 'observed'?
The pain in his head was enough to make him nauseated, but Jon swallowed hard and forced himself to picture Ryan and Tom and Frank sneaking through the dimly lit tunnels. Come find me, he said. This is where we need to be, I know it.
Then Helia came to a sudden stop and said, Oh god.
Jon opened his eyes carefully. The tunnel had lead them to a cavernous room full of giant cages. Various wires attached to tiny light bulbs crisscrossed the floor and wrapped around the cage bars like ivy, and they all led back to brass boxes covered in dials and switches, which were placed throughout the room on large iron pedestals. There was a low-grade humming coming from the boxes, and every few seconds, the light bulbs would flicker.
And inside each cage, hooked up to a series of wires, was a dragon.
What monster could do this? Helia said, her voice shaking with rage. They're...they're being-
Being drained of their psychic abilities, Jon finished. He didn't know how he knew, but he could feel it in the way the emotions came at him in fits and starts, fading in and out like a radio signal being slowly lost. The dragons were conscious, but they didn't speak or acknowledge Jon and Helia's presence; they kept their heads bowed and their eyes closed, almost as if they were trained to do so. Jon wondered if they could even communicate anymore-that was the trick to controlling the dragons: take away their telepathy and they were completely powerless.
We've got to get them out of here, Jon, we can't leave them like this! Helia was shivering, and Jon could feel her heart racing.
Jon tried to focus his thoughts and project once more, telling Frank their location. He was met with silence again, until he heard Frank's voice in a faraway whisper ask, Do you see Xira?
The room was only illuminated by the flickering bulbs, making it difficult to identify the dragons. Jon dismounted and stepped carefully through the mess of wires on the ground. He'd managed to contain the flood of emotions in his head somewhat, but it was still a dull, aching throb that pounded a little more fiercely as he neared a cage. There was a small blue dragon with gold wings in the first, a thin orange dragon that looked nearly drained of its vibrant color next to it, and a beautiful black male with white eyes in the cage on its other side.
In the largest cage, tucked into the back corner of the room and half-covered with a thin white sheet, was a massive blood-red dragon with black wings and claws.
It was Xira, barely conscious. Her wings were limp, and she was leaning against the side of the cage as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
She's here, Jon said, almost losing his focus in his rush to tell Frank. Xira's here, she's alive.
Don't move, we're coming for you, Frank replied immediately.
Jon put his hands on the bars and tried to shake the cage. Xira! It's Jon, Jon Walker! D'you remember me?
The dragon blinked her eyes sleepily at him. She seemed disoriented, hazy, and Jon could feel her confusion.
Frank was my mentor when I was younger-at the safe house with Gerard. There was a raid and you were taken, remember?
She tilted her head slowly and leaned closer. There was a flicker of something, possibly recognition, but Jon couldn't be sure.
Please, you have to remember. Your name is Xira, and your Rider is Frank Iero. We're here to rescue you, take you back where these men will never harm you like this again.
Very, very faintly, he heard a voice say, Frank? He's here?
Jon wanted to melt against the cage bars in relief. Yes, he's on his way. Can you tell me how to open these cages?
Xira blinked again at him, and the haze started to clear from her eyes. Jonathan Walker, she said, her voice stronger. I didn't know you were still alive.
Jon laughed as he felt his throat tighten, and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Yes, I'm very much alive.
Jon, someone's coming! Helia called from where she stood watch at the mouth of the tunnel. He could hear the echoes of voices yelling down the opposite passageway, footsteps pounding against the ground-like men running.
Quickly, how do you open the cages? Jon asked again, his palms beginning to sweat.
Xira rose to her full height, which was taller than any other dragon Jon had ever seen, and shook off the wires attached to her body. The cages are wired to an alarm system, she said. But I doubt that matters now. And with that, she swung her tail back and smashed it into the cage door, sending sparks and wires flying everywhere. The crash startled the rest of the dragons out their forced stupor.
Helia, just start breaking them! Jon yelled as Xira crashed her tail into another cage. He ran from cage to cage and spoke to the dragons as best he could, asking their name and their Rider's name. Some were foggier than others: the black male was the worst off-he could barely form complete sentences anymore, but he was able to say his name was Sy, and that his Rider had been killed in the raids.
Suddenly Jon felt a rush of fear and anxiety, followed immediately by a voice calling down the opposite tunnel, "They're already in there, everyone stand your ground! No dragon gets out alive."
He was too late-they were seconds away from being captured. Jon didn't know how much time he had before Frank arrived with the others, but it didn't matter; he drew his rifle and pointed it straight at the mouth of the tunnel. Get them all out of here, he said to Helia over the pounding of his heart. I'll hold them off for as long as I can.
You're a goddamn fool if you think I'm leaving you here alone, Helia shot back. And half of them can barely walk, Jon, let alone-
Helia didn't finish her thought, because the room suddenly exploded in gunfire. Jon saw a blur of maroon uniforms the moment before they opened fire, and he barely got a shot off before ducking behind a corner of the cave wall. A man shouted over the chaos, "Don't shoot the machines, for god's sake!" but no one seemed to listen, especially when Xira went up on her back legs and began lashing at the Government men, roaring her anger as she bared her teeth, oblivious to the bullets flying past her.
But the other dragons were huddled together in confused fear, and Jon felt completely helpless as he watched them inch back toward their cages. They were broken enough to think they had nowhere else to go, and Jon was too outnumbered to save them. Helia raced across the floor and pressed into the corner with Jon, panting, There's too many of them, and the others won't listen to me when I tell them to fight back like Xira.
She's going to get killed, Jon said in dismay as a bullet nicked her wing. Xira reared back and swiped the shooter with her front claws, sending him flying into the air. I only just found her and she's going to die before Frank even gets here.
You underestimate me, kid. Frank's words felt like a warm hand patting Jon's shoulder, and a second later, the Government started firing back at the opposite tunnel. Jon heard Frank yell something out loud, something that sounded very much like Xira's name, and when Jon peered around the corner with his rifle, he saw her tear through the men to get to her Rider. Tom and the others ran in behind Frank, rifles drawn; even Ryan had his gun aimed and ready, a fierce, determined look on his face.
You all right, Jonny? Tom called.
I'm fine, but we've got to get the dragons out of here-they've been experimented on, so they're pretty bad off.
Ryan's voice cut in, Are they the ones in the corner? The black and amber-colored ones?
Jon's heart was racing so fast he could barely breathe. Yeah, that's them. He tried to focus on Ryan, share in his determination, but the chaos was too much for him to read anyone. But they won't move. It's like they've been brain washed or something.
And there are more patrolmen on the way, Tom said. We got past a half dozen of them, but not before they called over the wire for more back-up.
Wait, Ryan said suddenly. I...think I have an idea.
Jon risked glancing around the corner again to see Ryan crouched down along the floor, crawling on his hands and knees over the mess of wires. But he moved quickly and with purpose; eventually he stopped beside Sy's cage and pointed his rifle at the largest of the brass machines.
You can tell me what it does later, he said ruefully before counting down from three. He took the shot, and the machine exploded into a shimmering spray of sparks and flames.
"I told you not to shoot the machines!" the Government man cried as the rest of the men ran for cover from the fire. Jon saw Ryan stumble across the debris to the huddled group of dragons and hold his hands out to them. Sy ducked his head and trembled as Ryan knelt down in front of him and cupped both hands over his muzzle. Jon couldn't read them through the cacophony, but he knew Ryan was instinctively comforting him. Soon, to Jon's astonishment, Ryan had the dragons moving slowly toward the side passage that led back outside.
They're moving! Helia cried.
He did it, Jon thought in amazement. Then he promptly raised his rifle and shot at another machine, sending a second explosion into the air. The Government men were disoriented, screaming orders at one another while the rest of Frank's group fired round after round into the machines, creating a distraction for Ryan to move the dragons out.
C'mon, Jon said, pulling at Helia's bridle. They're almost to the passage, we'll cover them.
Helia nodded, flattening herself against the ground as Jon swung around the corner and fired the rest of his ammunition at anything wearing maroon. He stumbled across bits of debris, but Helia caught him before he fell, pushed him back to his feet, and together they raced to the passageway where Ryan and the rest of the dragons waited.
"They won't go any further!" Ryan yelled out loud, flailing his hands helplessly. "I keep explaining that we're helping them, that this is the way to freedom, but-"
Will you all fly and follow me? Helia asked them, her voice strong and authoritative. I'll guide you, there's nothing to fear.
The dragons flinched at each gunshot and didn't reply. Jon heard Frank yell, Damnit, Walker, you and Ross have got to get them out of here, now!
We'll lead you, all right? Jon asked them, laying his hands on each of their necks, the universal sign of respect. On my honor, I won't let anything happen to you, I swear.
Me, neither, Ryan added, his hand still on Sy's muzzle.
Gradually, the dragons lifted their heads. We'll follow, the blue dragon whispered faintly.
Jon climbed into Helia's saddle, shouldering his rifle. Then let's go, before we all get shot. To his utter amazement and awe, he watched as Ryan leaned in close to Sy and whispered, You can do this, before climbing onto the black dragon's back.
They took off down the passageway, gunshots echoing behind them, and Jon tried frantically to focus enough to see if anyone unwanted was waiting for them on the other side. He couldn't get a clear picture of anyone, so he tugged hard on Helia's reins and said, Faster.
Helia knew exactly what he meant. She charged down the remaining length of the passage, wings spread as wide as possible, and burst through the door, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Her wings fanned out, and together she and Jon flew straight into the air, almost vertical to the ground. The cold wind stung Jon's eyes, but he blinked back the tears and looked over his shoulder to see four other dragons in the air behind them, including Ryan and Sy. Ryan's eyes were wide, and he didn't have a single bit of Rider gear, but he clung fiercely to Sy, who wobbled a bit in the air.
"Take them back to the camp! As far away as you can get!" Jon yelled to him.
Ryan shook his head. "I'm not leaving you here! I don't even know what I'm doing!" Sy's wings looked stiff and awkward, and Jon felt anxious fear from both of them.
"They're vulnerable out here, we can't-"
Suddenly there were shots ringing out from the ground below, and bullets began flying past them, barely missing the edge of Helia's wing. Government men were pouring out of the tunnels, every one of them armed with a gun pointed straight at the sky.
Jon, let's go, c'mon! Frank and the others will catch up! Ryan said.
But what if they were all dead inside the facility? What if Frank was counting on them to wait until they all made it out safely? He couldn't focus through the pounding in his head from unconsciously feeding off Ryan's fear and the dragons' disorientation and confusion.
The thundering roar followed immediately by exploding rock shook Jon out of his hysteria. Through the dust swirling in the air, he caught glimpses of dark red and black wings, along with flashes of what appeared to be another handful of dragons flying out of the chaos, and he heard men screaming.
Get out of here, kid! Frank called. Immediately, the rest of the Riders' dragons flew out of the forest and rushed the Government men, and once the dust cleared, Jon could see Frank riding Xira, firing his rifle at anyone who managed to not get the brunt of Xira's claws and teeth. The others climbed onto their dragons and soared into the air while patrolmen screamed and fired round after round. A bullet nicked Tom's right shoulder, and many of the others were bleeding as well, but they were airborne.
Except for Frank.
The men were closing around him and Xira, and Jon could feel Xira's strength waning. She hadn't much to begin with, had simply been operating on pure anger and adrenaline, but it was taking its toll. Jon knew Frank was running out of ammunition as well, but he was far from backing down. At this point, Jon was certain Frank never would.
I've got to help him, Jon said, pulling on Helia's reins.
Jon, he told us to get the dragons out of here.
But I'm not leaving him to die, not now! He glanced back at Ryan. Go with the rest of them, take care of Sy, he said before steering Helia back into the fray and quickly reloading his rifle.
"Jon, wait!" Ryan cried, but it was too late. Helia was aimed straight at the patrolmen, and Jon's gun was aimed as well. If he could get enough shots off, he could get to Frank and Xira, it would only take a minute-
He didn't know where the bullets came from. One minute Jon was preparing to take a shot, and the next minute he felt white-hot pain rip through his chest. The force of the shot knocked him back, causing him to drop his rifle; he pressed a hand to his chest, felt something warm and liquid, and a second later Helia screamed as another bullet torn through her left wing. There was nothing but pain, searing, bone-deep pain, the world spinning around them as both Rider and dragon lost control and plummeted to the ground.
Jon was dreaming again, only this time he wasn't surrounded by flames and death. Instead, he felt warm and safe, huddled into something both solid and comforting, a steady rhythm in his ear like a heartbeat counting time. He didn't feel despair or fear, or anything at all, really, except the contented, quiet lull of sleep.
Sleep. Was he in a bed? He tried to move his arms, but felt a sudden tug of pain in his side, and something shifted against him and sighed.
If this was a dream, it was the strangest dream Jon had ever had. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, gazing up at a window full of bright sunlight and blue sky. He lifted his head a little and realized his entire body was stiff and ached as if-
As if he'd nearly died.
To his left, a voice whispered sleepily, "Spence, look, he's awake!"
Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, registering the feel of pillows and blankets and soft sheets . He was indeed in a bed, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself looking straight into Spencer's.
The smile he gave Jon was almost blinding in its relief and happiness. "Hi," he said, reaching his fingertips out to touch Jon's face tentatively. He was curled up next to Jon in the bed, his other hand-the injured one-was curled into the front of Jon's shirt, as if he were afraid Jon would disappear if he didn't hang on to him.
Jon had to swallow a few times before he could get his voice to work properly. "I'm not dead?" he asked roughly. He winced in pain as Spencer's thumb coasted over his cheekbone.
"Of course not," came Brendon's voice from Jon's other side, and Jon felt a soft kiss against his temple. "And you have Ryan to thank for that."
Ryan. "Is he-?"
"Sleeping in the room next door," Spencer replied. "He's fine, and not anywhere near as banged up as you are."
"Pete uses this wing of the house as a medical center. He gave us the adjoining rooms he usually keeps for families." Brendon snuggled closer to Jon underneath the blanket, hooking his ankle gently over Jon's. "He'd, uh, seen me and Spence running up and down the halls back and forth, so he figured this would save us some trouble." He laughed sheepishly, as did Spencer.
Jon's head was swimming, though, as he tried to piece together everything that happened. There were snatches of images-dragons flying all around, bullets, voices yelling, Ryan calling after him, and then nothing...
He struggled to sit up, but the pain was too much. "I've got to get to Helia, I have to-"
"Jon." Spencer splayed his hand over Jon's chest and pushed him back against the pillows. "You were shot in the chest. The bullet barely missed your heart." He whispered the last part, ducking his head slightly as his hand tightened in Jon's shirt. "You were unconscious when they brought you back, and-for a while there, we thought..."
Brendon cut in quickly. "Helia's all right, though, she's resting comfortably. And you need to do the same, okay?"
Jon rubbed a hand absently over his chest; he could feel the thick bandages underneath his shirt. He swallowed again and whispered, "Tell me what happened."
Spencer propped himself up on his good elbow and looked over at Brendon. "The mission was successful," he said, a slow smile spreading over his face.
“Frank doesn't think he would've found Xira at all had you not gotten that guard to talk," Brendon said, his fingers skimming over the edge of the bandage at Jon's collarbone.
Spencer nodded. “Yeah, he’d just about given up hope of finding her.”
Jon gave him a quizzical look. "Really?"
“Well, they’d found the other dragons they were looking for in a holding pen on the other side of the compound. They were setting charges to free them when you discovered the observation facility.”
Brendon added, “Not only did you manage to help them save the seven they’d planned on, you also rescued three others." He grinned against Jon's shoulder. "Spence isn't sure how it happened, but it seems like Sy and Ryan bonded somehow."
Jon remembed Ryan and the black dragon wobbling in the sky, neither one sure of the other. "But...how?"
Spencer shrugged. "Sy's barely left Ryan's side since you got back. Maybe it was the trauma of the experiments, or the loss of his original Rider, who knows. I don't think cases like Ryan's are very common in the Guild, you know?"
Jon shook his head slowly, wishing his bones didn't ache so much. "How did he...I mean, how did Ryan-?"
"You were shot out of the sky," Brendon whispered. "Ryan managed to have Sy catch you, and Tom and Kyryn caught Helia. Once they got Frank and Xira out, they flew as far as they could until they were sure no one was following. Then they stopped to make sure you where still alive." He hugged his arm a little tighter around Jon's stomach. "Thank god Frank and the others managed to blow up the few dirigibles the patrolmen had on site, or who knows what would've happened to you all."
Through the haze of dull pain, Jon felt wisps of Brendon's overwhelming relief. He could only imagine what he and Spencer had felt once the group had arrived back at the camp.
He laughed hoarsely. "At least I kept my promise, Spence. Sort of."
Spencer huffed, but still pressed his nose to Jon's temple for a moment. "Ryan got grazed several times by bullets, and the stress of riding an emotionally wrecked dragon did a number on him-Sy crash-landed twice-but yeah, you did. But if you'd left us, I'd have killed you myself." He punctuated his words with a soft brush of his lips over Jon's cheek. "Brendon kept telling me to have faith, but it was easier said than done."
Jon smiled crookedly. "How long have I been back?"
"Three days. You should see Frank, he's like a changed man now that he's got Xira back," Spencer said. "Pete's worried the Government will increase raids now that the Resistance has successfully infiltrated their most secret compound, so there's been more talk of strategies and battle plans. Frank's right in the thick of it, especially since Gerard's completed his dragon armor prototype."
Jon sighed, suddenly more exhausted than he realized. "Battle," he whispered as his eyes fluttered shut. "It's only just started, hasn't it?"
"But we can actually fight them now, Jon," Brendon said. Jon felt a bloom of hope from him. "You helped put the pieces in motion, make things more even."
But at what cost? Jon thought, letting his head sink back into the pillows. Would Brendon and Spencer always be waiting for them to come home, never knowing when Jon or Ryan would come back as nothing but a corpse?
We're all in this together, came a tired, but determined voice in Jon's head. He looked up and saw Ryan standing in the doorway leading to the adjoining room. His face was bruised, his left arm was bandaged up to his bicep, and his face looked too pale. But he smiled at Jon, a tentative, yet hopeful smile that made the doubt in Jon's mind fade.
"Thought you were asleep," Spencer said with a smirk.
Ryan glared at him, but there was no bite to it at all. If anything, Jon felt intense affection from him, maybe even something more that he'd never noticed before, at least when it came to Ryan and Spencer. "Don't even get me started, Mister I-can-go-on-the-run-with-a-gunshot-wound." He took a few stiff, slow steps, until both Spencer and Brendon got up to help him. Brendon got there first, throwing both arms around Ryan's torso and hugging him tightly as he guided him toward the bed.
"You're impossible," Brendon mumbled into Ryan's cheek, and Spencer laughed and replied, "You're slowly learning," before he cupped the back of Ryan's neck and kissed the corner of his mouth. It suddenly occurred to Jon that the gray linen shirt Spencer wore was one Jon had seen Ryan wear in the past.
'Where's your new friend?" Jon asked. He missed Helia, but deep down he could feel in his soul that she was safe and sound.
Ryan blushed. "I made Sy go downstairs to rest in the den. He's never going to learn to interact with the others if he doesn't leave my room at some point." Jon could feel Ryan's pride and happiness over being able to refer to a dragon as his own. He knew Ryan had a long, long way to go before he'd be completely comfortable in his new lot in life, but having Sy was a step in the right direction, one Jon never thought Ryan would have.
"You should see the two of them together, Jon, they're worse than you and Helia," Brendon said, making a show out of rolling his eyes. But Jon didn't feel any jealousy or bitterness from him, none at all.
"I forgot to mention that Brendon has consistently been spoiling all the rescue dragons," Spencer drawled as he nudged Ryan into the bed with Brendon. The two of them crawled in on Jon's left side, while Spencer reclaimed his spot on the right. The bed wasn't quite big enough for them all, but Jon didn't mind being half buried under Spencer and Brendon, or having Ryan's arm slung over his stomach. He reached down and threaded his fingers with Ryan's, remembering his first night in the mansion and how nervous he'd been trying to find a way to fit with the three of them. But now it felt completely natural to rest his head on Spencer's shoulder as he felt his legs tangle with Brendon's under the blankets.
"I think I should probably sleep some more," Jon whispered as his eyes slipped shut. He felt Ryan squeeze his hand and heard him mumble, fuzzily, half-awake, Yeah, me too.
Spencer turned his head, his beard a soft scrape over Jon's forehead. "Sleep all you want," he whispered, kissing Jon's eyelids. "We're not going anywhere."
"Ever," Brendon added softly.
The sun was burning a deep, vivid orange as it slowly sunk into the horizon, casting red and pink hues into the sky. Jon splayed his hand over the window, trying to remember the last time he'd seen a sunset so beautiful.
"You want to go sit out on the porch?" Brendon asked softly as he pressed up against Jon's back and carefully wrapped his arms around Jon's waist. "I think I spotted a rocking chair in one of the bedrooms."
Jon grinned and leaned into him, only wincing a little at the pain that still lingered in faded bruises and scars. "So we can be old men and yell at anyone who dares cross into our yard?"
"Of course, what else would we do?" Brendon whispered, kissing the edge of Jon's jaw.
"It's not as warm as it looks, you know. The snow's barely finished melting."
"But it's melting, and that's got to count for something." He beamed as Jon turned in his arms and kissed him, just a slow drag of his lips over Brendon's.
Now that they'd moved into the old cabin on the edge of camp that once housed the servants from the main house, it was getting easier for Jon to let himself be open and vulnerable in moments like this. The cabin was much larger and more spacious than the one in Audrey, but it already felt a little like home.
Pete's mansion had offered everything Jon could want-security, comfort, shelter-but Jon felt crowded and stifled there; too many emotions and thoughts surrounding him, and very little space for him to be alone.
Yet when Pete had offered the cabin to Jon, there hadn't been a question as to who would move with him.
Helia lifted her head from where she was curled up in front of the fireplace with Sy and smirked at Jon. Shouldn't you be helping Spencer with dinner? she asked.
Jon pulled reluctantly out of the kiss and feigned a glare at her. He kicked me out of the kitchen an hour ago, said I still wasn't well enough to handle sharp objects.
She snorted. You just like being pampered. It was an ongoing joke between them, and Helia's way of coping with nearly losing Jon. If anything, she pampered Jon more than any of them.
Jon laughed and held up both hands. "Guilty as charged!"
Sy jerked awake at Jon's laughter. His head was resting on the rug in front of the battered paisley armchair, where Ryan was sleeping with a book in his lap. What, who's guilty? he asked in sleepy confusion as he blinked his white eyes at Jon.
No one's guilty, go back to sleep, Helia replied affectionately, nudging Sy's hip with her nose. Sy yawned and hummed something unintelligible, laying his head back down at Ryan's feet.
Ryan didn't move a muscle.
Brendon smiled, nudging the tip of his nose against Jon's cheek. "What's so funny?" Jon felt a genuine curiosity from him.
"Helia thinks we've abandoned Spence," Jon said. "I politely reminded her that I've been banned from the kitchen."
"Actually, that's why I came in here, to let you and Ryan know dinner's almost ready." He sighed as he glanced at the paisley chair. "Except Ryan's still worn out from all the training you two did today. Frank's been working you hard this week."
Granted, Jon's training was much less physical until he fully recovered from his injuries; Frank had him working on a series of exercises to help him better control his empathy. But Ryan and Sy were learning how to be Rider and dragon from scratch. At the end of the day, Jon was not nearly as exhausted as they were.
"He'll be fine, go ahead and wake him up." Jon grinned as he nudged Brendon toward Ryan's chair. "You know he wouldn't want to miss dinner."
Brendon laughed softly. "Good point-nothing's worse than a grumpy, hungry Ryan, that's for damn sure." He let go of Jon and stepped carefully over the sleeping dragons before crouching down beside Ryan's chair. Jon watched as Brendon whispered Ryan's name and leaned up slowly to kiss his mouth. Ryan inhaled deeply and, without opening his eyes, he lifted his hand to cup the back of Brendon's neck, holding him steady as he kissed him back.
All right, I'll wake up for you, Jon heard Ryan think sleepily.
"Dinner's ready," Jon said on his way past the chair to the kitchen. He paused for a second to scrub his fingers through Ryan's hair. Feeling okay? he added.
Yeah, just wanna sleep forever, Ryan replied, but he didn't stop kissing Brendon. Or maybe just do this for a little while longer...
"C'mon, let's go eat," Brendon murmured against Ryan's lips. "Spence made that stew you love, and I made pumpkin pie." He'd also made a separate pie for Helia and Sy earlier that morning. Jon had to make Helia promise not to eat the entire thing in one sitting.
In the kitchen, Spencer had his sleeves rolled up as he stirred a large cast-iron pot boiling on the stove. Behind him, the small dinner table was set for four. The chairs were mismatched, collected from all over the camp, with moth-eaten, stained cushions. The dishes were chipped, and a single, melted candle burned in the center, dripping wax onto the wood.
"That smells amazing," Jon said, resting his hip against the edge of the table.
Spencer shoved his hair out his eyes and brought the wooden spoon to his mouth. "It's my mother's old recipe. Jackie says I make it too spicy, but I think it's better that way." He held the spoon out to Jon.
It tasted even better than it smelled. "I'd say you were right," he said, making a show out of smacking his lips.
Spencer laughed. "Is Ryan awake yet?"
"Brendon's working on it."
"I bet he is." He set the spoon down and reached for Jon's hand, threading their fingers together. "I'm glad you decided to do this," Spencer whispered. "I mean, to let us move with you, out here. It feels right."
Jon pulled Spencer closer, trapping their clasped hands against his chest. "Being completely alone is kind of miserable," he whispered back. "Helia would agree with me on that."
"I think Helia realized that long before you did." Spencer smiled crookedly as he traced the curve of Jon's lower lip with his thumb. Jon shivered a little as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment; sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough, he swore he could feel Spencer, even if it was nothing more than a faint wisp of happiness.
"She always did like for me to figure things out for myself."
Jon loved that he didn't need to read Spencer to know when he was about to kiss him; he could tell by the way Spencer's eyes went slightly dark, and the way his breath stuttered a split second before he tilted his head and leaned in.
He was still getting used to the frantic, heady rush that always came whenever Spencer kissed him; it wasn't the comfortable ease he felt with Brendon, it was something a bit more frightening in its intensity. He spread his free hand over Spencer's cheek, which felt warm and flushed underneath the soft scruff of his beard. The kiss deepened a fraction, making Jon's heart beat faster.
Thought you said dinner was ready, came Ryan's voice sneaking into Jon's mind, his tone amused and affectionate. Jon felt a soft brush of lips trail over the back of his neck just before he heard Ryan's chuckle. As Ryan grew more and more confident in his telepathic abilities, he would frequently catch Ryan lingering around his thoughts whenever Jon was with Brendon or Spencer. It should have been intrusive, only Jon found himself wanting Ryan in his mind during those moments; it was both a little strange and exciting all at once, like a secret they could share.
"Let Spence go so we can eat, Jon Walker," Brendon said, tugging at the hem of Jon's shirt. "Kissing can wait until after pumpkin pie."
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes as he let go of Jon, but he grinned at Brendon. "And just what were you and Ry doing before hunger drove you in here?"
"He was saving me from sleeping dragons," Ryan drawled, his voice still rough with exhaustion.
"Yeah, I hear they're quite vicious." Spencer gave Ryan one of their silent looks, one that Jon knew said, You doing all right?
Ryan smiled around a yawn and gave Spencer a half-nuzzle, half-kiss on his jaw. "Fine, perfect, ready for food."
"Let me just get Helia and Sy's bowls ready-"
"On it," Brendon said, quickly grabbing the two tin pans and dishing up large portions of stew into both. He took them into the living room and set them by the fire; Helia tended to wait until Sy was rested and ready to eat before digging into her own bowl.
They each filled their own bowls while Spencer opened a new bottle of ale Pete had given them as a housewarming gift. "I haven't had alcohol in years," Spencer said, smiling as he sniffed the open bottle. He poured them all a cup, then held up his own as they stood around the table. "Here's to non-Government-approved liquor, and to Jon's new house."
"Our house," Jon said, flushing happily.
"Walker Manor!" Brendon said, and Ryan shook his head, laughing.
"No, no, it's...it's just our house." Jon's breath caught in his throat as he raised his cup higher. "To being home," he whispered.
"Here, here," the rest of them replied in unison, clinking their cups against Jon's.
