18. Cym

Chapter 18

Cym

S tanding up on shaky legs, Cym kissed Fourteen, refusing to make the same mistake again. Fourteen's body froze, and for a second Cym thought he'd severely misjudged the interaction between them. He tried to pull away, but Fourteen's hand came to the base of Cym's neck, stopping his retreat. Fourteen's mouth came down on his, and Cym stopped thinking and became a creature of pure sensation.

Cym's heart pounded as Fourteen nipped at his bottom lip, demanding he open up. With a gasp, Cym allowed him inside and was helpless as Fourteen explored Cym like he belonged to him. The soft leather of Fourteen's gloved hand caressed his spine, pressing Cym against him so tightly that Cym could barely breathe.

Cym didn't care about breathing, he only cared about getting close enough to Fourteen to show him how he felt. He wanted to erase the memory of Fourteen's face when he'd ordered him away, wanted to make him forget it had ever happened.

A throat cleared across the room.

They both turned to see Sterling pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, looking very put out. "It's clearly too late to avoid traumatizing me with things that can't be unseen, but if it isn't too much trouble, could we get out of here before more people show up?"

Fourteen narrowed his eyes menacingly.

Undaunted, Sterling continued. "I don't care how scary you are. There are some things you just don't do to a guy—like make out with his brother in front of him."

Cym's eyes flew to Fourteen's face to discover—to his surprise—that he looked like he was trying not to laugh. Cym squeezed Fourteen's arm, allowing himself to enjoy the muscles he kept hidden under his jacket, and eased back down from his tiptoes, noticing belatedly the throbbing of his poor, fucked up ankle.

Cym whispered hesitantly, "Later?"

Fourteen's eyes were dark and predatory as they scanned his face. "Later."

Fourteen's rough voice sent a shiver down his spine, and Cym wrapped his good arm around himself, realizing he was still freezing.

Fourteen frowned. "I've got something for you." Out of his jacket came a pink velour hoodie and a pair of white yoga pants. "The colors aren't ideal for covert ops, but it's better than what you're wearing. Your pants didn't survive their encounter with the cage." Fourteen gave an awkward cough and added, "Or me."

Cym glanced down to see one of the legs of his pants had been ripped from ankle to hip and was missing large strips of material. If it was this cold inside the garage, he'd hate to think what it would be like going outside in half a pair of pants. If his brother hadn't been there, he would have kissed Fourteen again for his foresight.

With some help from Fourteen, Cym pulled the hoodie on, leaving his injured arm out of the arm hole and zipped safely inside. The cheerful visage of Hello Kitty winked up at him from his good arm, and he decided to take the kitty as a sign of good luck.

When Cym got to the pants, he paused. "Um…" He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get them on himself, but having Fourteen help him in front of his brother seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"Maybe I should help you with that." Sterling volunteered awkwardly.

Fourteen gave his brother a threat-filled glare, letting Cym know he wasn't as indifferent about Sterling's shifting loyalties as he had seemed a minute ago.

Sterling held both hands up in surrender. "I get it, I get it, okay? You'll rip my arms and legs off if I hurt him," he said irritably and stepped forward to help Cym. He only made it two steps before stopping in his tracks with a strange expression on his face.

Cym hobbled backward hastily while Fourteen stepped in front of him, looking ready for anything.

"Are you okay, Ster?" Cym asked, cautiously peeking around Fourteen's shoulder.

Sterling shook himself and frowned. "Yeah, I just… maybe your champion should help you after all. I'll turn around. Just… hurry up, okay?"

Cym met Fourteen's eyes, still dark with promise from their kiss earlier, and gulped. "Okay…" Standing injured in a half-destroyed garage with his brother standing awkwardly to one side wouldn't have been his first choice for letting Fourteen see the goods for the first time, but perhaps there was a workaround for that. "Could… could you close your eyes?"

Fourteen gave Cym an amused look that said he had no problem defiling Cym right in front of his brother, but he nodded his assent and closed his eyes without a word. Cym leaned onto Fourteen's arm and did his best to shimmy out of his torn pants one-handed without taking off his shoes—the floor was too icy to contemplate touching with his bare feet. At one point he nearly fell over, and Fourteen shot out a hand to stop him. Startled, he looked at Fourteen's face, expecting his eyes to be open, but he was confused to see them still closed.

"How did you…?"

Eyes still closed, Fourteen lifted a shoulder minutely in a shrug. "All part of the training."

Shaking his head, Cym went back to pulling on the yoga pants over his sneakers. Fourteen had no idea how effortlessly cool he was. Cym finally managed to work the pants up his legs with one hand and reveled in the leftover warmth they retained from being carried against Fourteen's body.

Was this what being cared for felt like? Being protected whether he asked for it or not? Having someone else put his needs above their own? He pressed a cheek against Fourteen's broad chest. This dependable, surprisingly thoughtful, cool-as-fuck man had attached himself to Cym whether he deserved it or not. Cym knew he didn't deserve it, but he would work to make sure he did one day.

Cym reached up with his good hand to touch Fourteen's cheek. "Fourteen… I'm so sorry… I-"

With his eyes still closed, Fourteen said, "Later. Apologize when you're safe."

"I'll do that," Cym promised, planning to apologize to Fourteen hard enough to get himself pregnant if he'd possessed the proper parts for it. "I'm decent now. You can open your eyes."

Fourteen's eyes opened and he gave Cym a once over. "How's your ankle?"

"It'll survive." Cym would keep up no matter how it felt. If Fourteen was going to keep risking his life for Cym, then Cym vowed to do everything in his power not to drag him down while he did it.

Fourteen kissed Cym in response.

"You two are being way too quiet over there," Sterling said in a disgruntled tone.

Cym tried to skitter backward, but Fourteen held him fast and said, "All clear." So when Sterling turned around, he didn't have any illusions about what he'd interrupted them doing.

Sterling gave Fourteen the stink eye but didn't comment.

Cym slapped on a fake, cheery voice and said, "Okay, so what's the plan? Even if we get out of here, we've got Sterling and Hester with us now. We can't leave her behind or that nightmare will just go back to her. We can't hide all of us using your shield. Well, not for very long." The mental image of Fourteen carrying all three of them around in his arms for the rest of his life made Cym smile.

Fourteen put a hand up reminding him of a child asking a question in school. "What's a nightmare?"

Oops. Fourteen was so efficient at everything he did, Cym kept forgetting that they weren't from the same world and he had a lot of gaps in his knowledge. Cym hurried to explain. "A nightmare is a creature that has escaped from the dreamscape; they're created from the fears of humans. Guardians are supposed to hunt them down and destroy them before they make it to the Real—the waking world—but I think this one has been running around here for a long time."

"Guardians? I met some people claiming to be guardians earlier today, right after you ditched me," Fourteen offered.

"I didn't—" Cym tried to protest, but he stopped when Fourteen gave him a sharp look. Cym had totally ditched him and didn't have a leg to stand on. Fourteen had one hell of an apology coming to him. Was cock-sucking a good method of apology? Cym would happily become a pro if that's what it took.

Sterling ignored their by-play and said excitedly, "If we can get out of here and make it to the Guard, we might have a chance. Cymbeline, the entire family isn't like her." He motioned toward Hester. "There are a few of us who are just scared and want away from what's been happening. If you go to the Guard, they can help you take over the family. I mean, it's supposed to be yours in the first place."

Cym looked at Fourteen, questioning.

"Whatever you choose, I'll get you there."

"Well, that's no damned help at all." Cym huffed out an irritated breath. Then, after taking in Fourteen's stiff posture, he added hurriedly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you. It's just… I'm not a leader. I'm not anything!"

Fourteen took Cym's uninjured hand carefully, treating it like something more precious than diamonds, and kissed it. "Then your possibilities are limitless."

When Cym's magic rose to pour into Fourteen, he noticed it felt different than it had moments before. Instead of a desperate need to fix something, Cym felt like it was reaching out to greet an old friend. He gazed into Fourteen's eyes, shadowed with the stress of the past few days, and smiled.

"Stop trying to maul my brother!" Sterling waved a hand between the two of them to break their eye contact and then jumped back to a safe distance. "We. Don't. Have. Time. For. This." He enhanced each word with a clap to impart his full meaning.

Reluctantly, Cym pulled his hand free with a gentle tug. "Sterling is right. Let's get out of the compound first, then we can all decide where to go next."

With a miniscule quirk of his lip, Fourteen nodded his assent and strode over to the door to peer outside. "My guy did a good job. Half the place is in flames. Sterling, can you carry Hester?"

Sterling made a face. "If I have to."

Once he had loaded Sterling with the dead weight of Hester's body, Fourteen said, "I'll go first. When I want you two to follow, I'll do this." He made a quick motion with his hand. "Stay as low as you can, and keep close unless I tell you to fall back. And remember, Cym, don't issue any commands."

Cym saluted with a wink. "Yessir!"

Fourteen quirked his mouth again and disappeared from the doorframe.

Cym hadn't seen the compound his family had evacuated to—he hadn't woken up until after he reached the garage. Fourteen must have taken careful notes though, since he made his way through the buildings like he'd lived there his whole life.

At one point they heard shouting and saw three mercenaries directly ahead of them. Cym thought they would be trapped when burning rubble fell behind them, but Fourteen just stopped, shoved Cym and his brother down a small passage between buildings, and picked off all three mercs with efficient headshots.

Cym was grateful for the adrenaline pumping through his body. It allowed him to keep up with Fourteen regardless of how his feet felt as he wove through narrow alleys and was shepherded past open spaces. During their mad dash through the compound, Cym became so attuned to Fourteen's body language that when Fourteen stopped abruptly, Cym stepped to the side automatically to keep from smashing into him. Sterling wasn't so lucky, and Cym had to dodge out of his way so his magic wouldn't roll him.

"What is it?" Cym was so quiet he wasn't sure Fourteen would hear him.

"No cover," Fourteen replied in a low rumble.

Cym peered into the darkness ahead and saw a barren field between them and the forest. There was at least three hundred yards of empty space between them and freedom.

"If we're going to have to run for it, I'm going to need a rest. I don't think Hester has been going easy on the snacks." Sterling propped the woman's body against the wall of the building giving them cover and let out a sigh of relief.

"No time. We need to get out of here while our distraction is intact. If you fall behind I will leave you here," Fourteen replied coldly.

"Then you'll leave me here too," Cym stated, daring Fourteen to test him on it.

The corners of Fourteen's eyes tightened, and Cym wondered if his soldier was going to throw him over one shoulder and make a run for it. "Fine," Fourteen snapped and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Two minutes."

"Maybe I can help you carry her, Ster—," Cym began but stopped when both men shook their heads.

"I'll carry her if it comes down to it." Fourteen said, ending the conversation.

"Stop getting so worked up. I just needed to take a breath before the big push. I'm sixteen—I recover quickly." Sterling eyed Fourteen with annoyance. "Not like this guy. He'll probably have a heart attack if he's not careful. What are you, forty?"

"Twenty-six," Fourteen said, unfazed. "Probably. Are you recovered yet, or do I need to carry you and Hester both?"

"I'm ready, Terminator." Sterling tried to pull Hester onto his shoulder smoothly and almost succeeded. When Cym tried to steady him, he scowled, and Cym skittered backward, remembering—again—the need to give Sterling plenty of room.

"On my mark, run as fast as you can. Cym, lean on me as much as you need to." Fourteen peered into the darkness, waiting for something Cym couldn't sense. "Now."

He did the best he could, but it didn't take long for Cym to lag as his injured ankle started to campaign loudly for an early day. He wasn't going to make it. "Fourteen—" The sky above them burst into light, exposing their position to everyone in sight. Stunned, the group stopped in its tracks.

From the darkness of the forest, countless cousins, aunts, and uncles came out. Most of their names had been long since forgotten by Cym. The clattering of boots rang out on the rooftops behind them, and he turned to see dozens of soldiers, all carrying automatic weapons and bringing them to bear upon Cym and his assembly, making him feel small and insignificant.

Twisted laughter came from the alley they had bolted from, and out stepped Stella—or what was left of her. Cym could see the wrongness even before his aunt emerged from the shadows. The monster possessing his aunt was making no attempt to hide itself now. It had no need to. It had them surrounded.

Cym's insides turned to ice as he saw how utterly and completely trapped they were. He couldn't let his brother and Fourteen die here—not because of him. It was incomprehensible the gods would bring them into his life only to take them away so brutally.

"Let them go!" Cym shouted over the rising wind, but his words were whipped away from his lips and they came out sounding small and puny. "You can have me. I won't fight."

The monster smiled, a mockery of an expression that stretched grotesquely across his aunt's face.

Behind him Fourteen growled. "Like hell." He snatched Hester away from Sterling and put a gun to her head. "Let us all go, or she's dead."

Sterling made an urk of protest.

"Stupid child, there is nothing of your mother left inside that husk. Why do you think we wanted Cymbeline? We needed another body to sustain us." Stella's arm flopped back and forth like a puppet trying to make a shooing motion. "Kill her. That woman's body means nothing to me. But a willing body with your kind of power? That means something. What do you say, Cymbeline? Want to make a deal with me like your great-grandmother did a few centuries back?"

The idea of sharing his body with the thing inside his aunt caused Cym's bravery to shatter, leaving him an exposed, quivering child screaming for his mommy to make the monsters go away. But the monsters had eaten his mother, and Cym was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn't respond.

A warm body pressed against his back.

It was Fourteen.

He wouldn't leave Cym to the monsters unless he was ordered to, and even then, Cym had a feeling Fourteen would find a way around it. And if he wouldn't leave Cym, Sterling didn't have a chance on his own, so he might as well do something stupid.

Reaching back, he gripped Fourteen's bare wrist, feeling his comforting energy mingling with Cym's, and said to the nightmare, "Fuck you."

Throwing back Stella's head, the monster laughed, a horrible, howling laughter sounding like dozens of voices screaming in unison. It raised a hand toward the mercenaries above it and said. "Kill them, but don't touch Cymbeline."

Fourteen dragged Cym behind him and jerked them both to the ground, but nothing happened. Cym looked up at the rooftops in confusion. All the mercenaries were slumped over in sleep.

But before he had a chance to react, the world dropped out from under him.