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Gray clouds blotted out the sun, promising snow. The air was thick with the coming storm, each breath settling heavy in Avery’s lungs as his gaze swept over the ruin entrance. Mangled machines lay scattered outside the opening, some still sparking. Next to him, flat brown eyes studied the scene, the former Duvosian soldier’s shoulders set in a straight line beneath a black jacket.
Too small now, Avery thought as the fabric bulged around biceps that hadn’t existed a year ago. Or at least not in a way Avery had noticed. Granted, he’d been a bit preoccupied with a concussion at the time.
It was amazing what a steady diet of not MREs could do.
Shaking his head, he turned away, long strides eating up the distance between the opening to the ruin and where two of his rangers stood, arguing quietly under a canopy of trees.
“Rhett, Violet, remain here to keep watch. Stev and I will investigate.”
“Commander,” they replied in unison, twin nods of acquiescence as their stances shifted from “attention” to “at ease”.
Avery glanced back at Stev, who had shifted slightly to keep Avery in his line of sight while maintaining watch on the ruin entrance.
“You have your—“
Stev’s hand dropped to his belt, and the holster attached there, though he didn’t touch the weapon.
“Good. Ready?”
“Yes,” Stev answered simply, peering into the gloom of the ruins once again.
The two of them entered into the looming darkness just as the first snowflakes drifted lazily down from the sky.
Water dripped steadily from somewhere, pooling along the corridors to mix with the dust on the floor. Clouds of breath fogged in the air as they cleared each room, following the path of destruction through the ruins. More machines lay crumbled in the corners, claw marks scouring the metal plating that sheathed them.
Stev crouched near one, swiping a finger through the caked-on mud. At Avery’s questioning glance he shook his head.
“Cold,” he stated, rising in one smooth motion. “And the mud has dried.”
“Looks like gnawers,” Avery muttered, leaning down, careful to keep his cape out of muck. He didn’t relish having to don dirty clothes if they were going to be out here for more than a day.
Lena had received word of movement in these ruins three weeks ago and had thought nothing of it. But Ragnar’s recent adventures, and the quiet murmurs of Skyshark appearances in the surrounding area, had both Lena and Avery growing concerned enough that a reconnaissance mission seemed prudent. And with limited personnel, and Stev’s familiarity with old-world ruins, having lived in one for three years, Lena had requested he accompany the rangers on this excursion.
Stev had proven himself capable of handling any trouble and while Avery wasn’t hoping for trouble, he was prepared for it. It had a way of finding him regardless.
Stev and Avery moved deeper into the ruins, skirting the sparking wires that coiled along the floor in places. Broken boxes and shattered plastech lay in haphazard piles, creating an obstacle course they had to climb over, slowing their progress and their investigation. Periodically, a sentry bot would appear, though they were quickly dispatched by a few quick slashes from Avery’s saber, or Stev’s sword.
They found the first of the gnawers in a small room off to the side, its leg and head crushed by the hydraulic arm of a hauler. Blood pooled beneath matted fur, the monster’s hard-hat askew over vacant eyes. Stev said nothing as Avery’s hand reached up and closed them, turning the fingertips of his white glove rust-brown.
“Let’s keep moving,” Avery rose from his crouch, fingers flexing on the grip of his sword.
Old fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead, periodically flickering on and off as the two men slowly made their way through the maze of corridors. Stev used the chalk he carried to mark their passage, arrows denoting which way to the exit.
“Oh-er…we used to do this back home,” Stev said by way of explanation. “Sometimes you needed to get away fast, or hide.”
“I….see.” Stev’s past was something Avery hadn’t been able to find much information on. Most of his knowledge came from quiet murmuring to the horses in the stable, and what information he could parse from the heavily redacted service record Avery had managed to lay his hands on. The rest he could only surmise.
Stev didn’t need, and certainly wouldn’t appreciate, his pity, so Avery made no further comment, instead nodding towards an open doorway that appeared to lead further into the recesses of the underground monolith.
They picked their way carefully through the rooms, winding down a single set of stairs that emptied into a series of small cubicles. Emergency lighting flickered, spilling bright white light towards the ground in irregular intervals. Crumbling plaster and faded blue paint decorated the walls. The half height dividers spoke of nosy colleagues and incessant noise.
Just imagining it gave Avery a headache. He much preferred quiet, a good book, and no one within a mile of him. Though he had found that there were certain people he didn’t mind being within that range. Mostly the ones who appreciated the silence as much as he did.
Stev paused, head tilted, listening. Avery stopped as well, gaze flat as he peered deeper into the bowels of the building.
Something shuffled in the gloom, pausing as it presumably caught their scent and then dashed off. Inwardly, Avery winced, hoping that whatever it was had not fled to gather reinforcements. Not that he could do much about it now.
They hadn’t seen much of the gnawers since entering the ruins. The occasional wreck of a broken down hauler, complete with teeth marks, or the remains of snapped pistons and cracked plastech casings scattered haphazardly along the space. But no more bodies. At least so far.
Avery picked his way carefully over a table cracked in two from a fallen beam, the only way forward in the maze of cubicles. Double doors, half off their hinges and propped awkwardly against the wall marked the end of the room. Up ahead, something crashed, and the two men looked at each other, quickening their pace in silent agreement.
Thump.
Both paused, listening. That had come from a little further ahead. Avery glanced up, towards the ceiling tiles that dribbled dust and dirt to the ground.
Thump.
Something clicked angrily, followed by a high pitched squeal, then the sound of hammer striking metal hard.
Once.
Twice.
Stev’s gaze flicked to his, the brown solid and steady as his hand flexed on his weapon. They stepped through the doorway together, Avery sweeping the right side, Stev the left, their backs turned towards each other while they looked for the threat.
Dozens of composite tables sat in mostly orderly rows, hard plastic chairs surrounding them. Near the far wall, a long counter lay covered in dust, metal inserts nestled under a glass top and a stack of trays set off to the side. Posters lined the walls, faded to white and warped by the water that was slowly trickling in from above.
A pained screamed sounded from somewhere out of sight, quickly cut off. Hollow chittering, making the hair on the back of his Avery’s neck rise.
Where was it coming from?
Thump.
Plaster fell from the ceiling, pulling Avery’s attention up.
Thump.
Crash.
Ceiling tiles tumbled to the floor, shattering under the weight of a giant…thing. The creature screeched as it slammed into the ground, a few of the thin, fragile legs snapping with a crack.
But there were dozens more legs lining each side of its silver body. The creature gathered itself, mandibles chittering as its glowing green eyes swung in their direction.
Neither of them so much as breathed, waiting to see if the thing was aggressive.
A gnawer, hardhat askew and blood soaking into brown fur, coughed weakly from where it had fallen, large hammer still clutched in its hand.
The centipede swiveled its head, the top portion of its body held aloft as it skittered towards the fallen beast.
Avery could see fear in the gnawer’s eyes, even from this distance. Before he could move to intercept, Stev’s gun whipped up, two quick shots pinged off the metal just beneath the monsters eye.
“It’s armored,” Avery stated incredulously.
Stev grunted in dissatisfaction, inched the gun up, then fired again. This time, glass shattered, bright green ichor dripping to the floor as the beast reared back, head swiveling towards them menacingly, the gnawer forgotten. The light in one eye flickered and died.
A perfect shot.
More skittering now, the dozens of still functioning legs swinging the centipede’s body towards them in a serpentine shape. It’s head lowered, two large antennae jutting out from the top portion and curving in a wide arc, much like horns on a ram.
Despite its size, it moved quickly, crashing through fallen ceiling tiles and upturning the tables and chairs that had remained undisturbed for centuries. Avery dodged, leaping over one such table just before those antennae slammed into him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stev do the same, using the back of a chair to swing himself up onto the table.
The thing smacked into the far wall, its speed too great to stop quickly. Plaster crumbled, exposing ductwork and rotted wooden boards. Its’ legs dug into the ground, shoving against the concrete to free itself. The centipede let out an ear-splitting screech as it broke free, pieces of the wall coming with it. One large beam of wood was lodged in its jaws. It crunched down, the wood shattering as if it were a twig and not a load bearing joist as wide as Avery was.
Avery cursed whatever fool had designed this thing, adjusting his grip. Gloves protected the leather from his sweaty palm, his hold secure.
“We have to ground it!” Stev shouted, the bark of his gun echoing in the large room. Metal sparked against metal, the flash of a bullet striking steel.
“I’m open to ideas,” Avery muttered, eyes scanning for weak points in the monster’s body. Up close, the beast looked like something out of an old world science fiction novel. A large flat head sheathed in silver metal, the antennae, and a pair of large curved mandibles, their ends tipped like the point of a spear. Avery’s brain scrambled for his old biology lessons, and provided a name for the shortened legs near the top, maxillipeds. Venomous, if he wasn’t mistaken.
Lovely.
“Avoid its front,” he called, sword raised.
Then he charged.
Ten yards. Eight. Four. Avery rushed forward, the centipede screeching as one of Stev’s shots found its target.
Avery’s gaze flicked to the side and up, to where thin plates covered the centipedes back, interlocking segments that mirrored the exoskeleton of its biological counterpart. Or maybe this thing was a mix of both.
Time to test that theory.
He wove through the sprawled furniture, sure-footed as he leapt over downed chairs and swung around overturned tables. The furniture offered no real cover, but it did prevent Avery from being boxed in as he entered melee range. Bullets from Stev’s gun laid down covering fire, keeping the beast from smashing Avery into a wall with its head, while Avery’s sword swung towards the beast. Sparks flew as the edge of his blade caught against the plated metal, sliding harmlessly off.
They’d have to carve this thing apart.
His sword slashed out, seeking and finding the weak spot between two sections of the body along the beasts side. Something crunched, but there was no ring of metal against metal. Sickly green liquid spilled onto his saber, sizzling and smoking as it corroded the metal.
“Blood’s acidic,” he muttered. “Of course it is.”
A voice he didn’t recognize shouted a garbled warning, and then searing light filled the space, as if a thousand searching lights had been swung around set to illuminate the room. Spots danced in his vision, the centipede going in and out of focus. Avery blinked rapidly, the black circles slowly dissipating. He heard Stev shout something that sounded like “thank you!”
The beast lunged wildly again, remaining eye contracting as it tried to narrow its vision in order to see. Avery wasn’t fast enough, and the centipede lunged, tucking its head down to ram him. Razor sharp mandibles missed him by inches as Avery ducked at the last moment, slicing in a wide arc just underneath the head segment. The blade caught on one of the softer sternites, metal screeching. Avery tugged sharply, and the blade slid free, the underbelly plate tearing open.
Bright green ichor splashed to the ground, sizzling as it struck half an inch from Avery's boots. Avery sidestepped quickly, his saber striking in three fast slashes at the closest legs to give himself room to work. The unprotected joints split under his strikes, clearing the way for his next move.
Turning his blade, Avery slipped it beneath the plate just in front of him, carving through the endocuticle as fast as he could. Fire bloomed along his calf, a barbed leg carving through his pants leg and into the skin. Avery grit his teeth and kept carving.
Inches from his head a bullet slammed into an exposed body of the bio-mechanical monstrosity, and Avery swung away, barely dodging another swipe from the forcipules as he worked his way forward. He took another strike, this one to his arm, wincing as dozens of tiny knives crawled over his skin and sliced deep.
Another bullet found its home, sizzling liquid splashed onto the table, its plastic top smoking as the acid ate away at it. An acrid stench wafted from it, made worse by the fetid smell coming from exposed sections of body Avery had been busy prying apart.
They needed to distract it again.
“Stev! Get the light?” Avery called, attention devoted to avoiding more of the serrated legs, to varying degrees of success.
“Moving!” Came the reply from somewhere to the right. The downed gnawer, and the light it carried, was further in the room, back towards the rolling buffet carts left out from some long ago function.
Whistling signaled movement, and Avery spared precious seconds to glance behind him as the creature’s back half swung out, individual segments curving towards the spot Stev should be moving to. Avery shouted a warning, but too late, and as it happened, unneeded. Stev rolled to avoid the attack, grunting as he was hit by a glancing strike that sent him careening into the wall.
Fear surged and was squashed down.
“Stev!” Two slashing strikes, up and to the left, then over. The edge of his saber caught against metal and was tugged free, taking a chunk of gelled chitin with it.
Stev’s response was lost as the beast screamed, its body jerking frantically. Avery couldn’t see what happened, his vision blocked by the top half of the centipede as it lunged forward.
Agony ripped through his shoulder. His muscles seized, lines of fire carving their way through muscle as the beast bore down. Dozens of razor-sharp filaments sliced into him, spreading more acid. The other forcipule stabbed downward, piercing just below his collar bone, pinning him to the concrete floor.
Avery roared, struggling to lift his arm up enough to strike. The pommel shifted, his grip weakening. He flexed his abs, pushing himself further onto the venomous pincers. Each inch was torture, a tiny eternity drenched in pain. With grit teeth Avery clenched his fist, steadying the blade, and thrust straight up.
The thin sheet of metal folded like tissue paper, his saber slicing clean up and into the beasts brain.
In its death throes, it reeled, its front half lifting off the floor and dragging Avery with it. For a moment he hung suspended, gravity sliding him forward. Avery stared down into the remaining glowing eye, watching as it dimmed.
Finally the beast collapsed, upper body crashing to the ground in a heap, taking Avery with it.
His heart still pounded, sweat dripping down into his eyes. Each breath was painful, various cuts and bruises making themselves known now that the adrenaline receded. His gaze tracked the body of the monster, idly noting the jagged pipe that stuck out at an odd angle halfway down the beasts body. The rest of the pipe was still attached to the wall.
If he wasn’t in so much pain, Avery would have commented on the ingenuity and resourcefulness, but as it stood, he was having a hard time catching his breath.
Probably due to being impaled.
Gloved hands, stained red with his own blood, pushed against the flat head.
“Don’t.” Stev said, his skin smeared with its own share of blood. He tugged Avery’s hand away. “Need to keep those in.”
Avery shook his head, eyeing the slow trickle of red that soaked into his shirt. He’d spent enough time on the battlefield to know a mortal wound. “It didn’t hit any major artery, and those-“ he pointed weakly at the maxillipeds”-are venomous. Get them out of me,” he coughed. “Please.”
“I advise against this, Commander.”
“Objection noted. If you would?” Avery couldn’t very well force Stev to go against his own judgement.
The Duvosian-turned-stablemaster paused for a moment, staring at Avery before he unsheathed the knife resting at the small of his back. Still quietly protesting, Stev cut, carving through the appendages as quickly as he was able, Avery gritting his teeth against the jostling. The maxillipeds snapped free from the body, bright green liquid splashing onto the hem of Avery’s now destroyed cape.
“Ready?” Stev asked.
“Do it.”
There was no count, no time to prepare. Stev grabbed the end poking out of Avery’s shoulder and yanked. Between the squelching and the feel of the broken pincer being pulled through his body, Avery’s head went light. He turned to the side, spilling sickness in a puddle.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, just get the other one out.”
Two quick tugs and it was done. Stev pressed a piece of fabric against his shoulder, while Avery pressed his handkerchief to the wound beneath his collarbone, pressing as firmly as he was able. He shook his head when Stev pulled a packet of medication from one of his pockets.
“Later. We need to get out of here first.” He would white-knuckle his way through until they met up with the rest of the rangers.
Avery rose to his feet and then promptly staggered, vision going grey at the edges. The room spun, the ground beneath his feet suddenly unsteady. He struggled to right himself, sucking in a deep breath before his legs gave out and the ground rose up to meet him.
Stev almost toppled at Avery’s sudden dead weight, the commander’s larger frame crashing heavily against him. He braced, supporting Avery as best he could while he tried to figure out the best way to get them both out of these ruins.
Avery needed medical attention, immediately. Panic built and was shoved ruthlessly down. Field dressing first, enough to keep pressure on the wounds, though from Stev’s initial assessment the bleeding had slowed. It was the venom they needed to worry about.
Gently, he settled Avery back on the floor, leaning him against one of the wrecked tables that had been overturned during the fight. As quickly as he could, Stev pulled some gauze from the pocket of his pants, winding it carefully across Avery’s chest and shoulder, tucking more absorbent cloth near the wounds. He ignored the sting near his ribs, the sticky blood dripping sluggishly down his side. He’d be fine, but the Commander…
The field dressing would hold. It had to.
His gaze flicked to the space the gnawer had occupied, but it, and the bright light it had carried, were no where to be seen.
One problem at a time. The most pressing of which was how to carry the Commander, who weighed more than he did, back to the surface without causing any more harm than necessary, all while keeping a hand free to fight. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed one of the forcipules he cut free, shoving it into a spare pocket.
Gold eyes, hazy with pain and bloodshot, cracked open.
“Commander, we need to get out of here. I will carry you, but you need to stay awake.”
Avery grunted in affirmation.
Shifting forward, Stev twisted, slinging Avery up and resting his torso over his shoulders.
“Can you reach my gun?”
A questing hand brushed over his pants, patting his thighs until it closed over the rigid handle of the pistol Stev kept to scare off wolves from the stables. Usually filled with rubber bullets, he’d been forced to load real ones today.
Guns made him uncomfortable, a reminder of a time he’d rather not relive.
Avery opened the chamber, tsking lightly at the remaining three bullets.
“Where’s the—?”
Adjusting the man, Stev pulled the pouch of extra ammo off his belt and pushed it into the blonde’s hand, the normally pristine white of his gloves smeared with grime.
Even injured, Avery was quick, reloading Stev’s gun with the ease of long practice. The cylinder spun, the safety clicked off.
“Ready?” Stev asked.
Avery’s reply was a single pained grunt. And then they were off, Avery’s weight turning Stev’s loping gait awkward. Stev muttered an apology, his shuffling steps around a downed beam jostling Avery enough to draw a sharp inhale.
“It’s fine,” Avery spit out between grit teeth. “Keep going.”
Minutes dragged by, the time marked in the steadily dripping water from above and the growing fatigue in Stev’s muscles as he trekked ever upward toward the surface.
He couldn’t tell if the liquid soaking into his shirt was water or blood, and didn’t dare stop to check. Avery was still breathing, harsh exhales and pained grunts spurring Stev to quicken his pace. Violet and Rhett would be able to help. Surely.
Stev readjusted his grip on the man, took a single deep breath, and then began climbing the winding staircase that led to the upper floors.
Weak sunlight broke through the clouds as Stev stumbled out of the darkness, dripping sweat. Rhett and Violet looked up, twin shouts of “Commander!” spilling from their lips when they caught sight of Avery, pale faced and bleeding, holding Stev’s gun in a death-grip.
Rhett’s feet flew over the snow, Violet close behind. Stev sunk into the snow, Avery’s weight over his shoulder making walking through the shin high drifts nigh impossible. Rhett skidded to a halt in front of them, carefully working his arm underneath Avery’s free shoulder.
“What happened?” the ranger asked, scanning Stev quickly. “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s-It’s not mine,” Stev replied quickly, shaking his head. “Or at least not most of it. A few cuts and bruises, but the Commander needs medical attention.”
Violet tried to take Stev’s place, but he waved her off, insisting he was fine, and with Rhett’s help, they managed to carry Avery from the ruin entrance to the small camp Violet and Rhett had set up, a fire crackling cheerfully despite the snow fall, dry firewood carried with them at all times.
After clearing a patch of snow, Violet removed her cloak, spreading it on the ground so the three of them could more closely examine Avery’s wounds.
“Rhett, get some water boiling.”
“Ma’am,” he replied rising in one smooth motion and pulling down a kettle from the back of his horse.
“We need to return to the settlement,” Violet said quietly, gaze locked on the wound beneath Avery’s collarbone. The stream of blood had slowed to a trickle, but whether that was due to the cold or his own rushed patch job, he couldn’t say. “We’ll clean the wounds here first, enough to stave off any infection, and then ride, if we hurry—“
“We won’t make it before dark,” Stev interrupted, “not carrying him, he’s too weak to ride.”
Avery grunted, gold eyes peeling open at the insult. “I can ride.”
Stev didn’t bother to respond, rising to his feet at grabbing the medical supplies habit forced him to carry from his saddlebags. While he preferred not to dwell on his time in the Duvosian military, some lessons were harder to forget than others.
Caramel, Stev’s horse, nudged his shoulder, offering what comfort she could while Stev rifled through the saddlebags removing gauze and antiseptic.
If Lefu could see me now, he thought ruefully, grabbing a small sewing kit from a separate pouch.
Violet watched him with steady eyes, marking his movements as Stev resettled himself on the spread out cloak. She didn’t speak, simply began unwinding fresh gauze to cut to length with a knife she pulled from her boot.
“I’ll need to unbutton your coat, Commander, and remove your shirt.”
Avery simply nodded, the white-knuckled fist and faint wince all that betrayed the pain he was surely experiencing as Violet and Stev worked together to pull away the blood-soaked bandages. Stev’s hasty first aid had halted the blood loss, but the wound needed proper cleaning from the dirt and debris that permeated the ruins.
Avery’s eyes held his stoically, and Stev found himself pinned in place. He’d spent so long trying to avoid any attention from the settlement, and this man in particular, preferring to be known for quiet competency and be otherwise unremarkable.
After the events on the river, Stev’s self-imposed isolation dissolved like ice in the Eufaula, the townsfolk and Rangers having rallied around him in the days and weeks that followed. On rare occasions he’d been tasked with assisting the Rangers in some of their duties, though Lena and Avery both seemed disinclined to use Stev in that way. The current situation was an anomaly.
Stev found himself grateful for the mandatory first aid training all Duvosian soldiers were required to complete. Lefu’s penchant for dramatics had forced Stev to keep those skills sharp during his time in the Eufaula. In the bright light provided by Violet’s flashlight, the full extent of Avery’s injuries could be seen.
Jagged tears in the skin, their edges an unhealthy shade of green.
“What happened?” Violet whispered, horrified gaze flicking between the two men.
“Monster,” Avery replied shortly. “Venomous.” Avery coughed weakly, the rattle in his lungs forcing everyone to pause.
The kettle shrilled, breaking the heavy silence.
“I can go look for medicinal herbs.” Stev shifted, turning towards the line of trees past the glade. Surely something in there would work. “Or—“
“We have to go back to the settlement,” Avery interrupted. “Or try.”
“Commander, I—“ Violet began, eyeing the wounds on Avery’s chest.
“I’ll make it. Let’s go.”
They didn’t waste time. Once the decision had been made, Rhett and Violet, hurriedly cleaned and rebandaged the wounds, mixing some of Stev’s numbing herbs into the water to help with the pain, the only medication Avery would allow.
Stev fastened a lead rope to Ophelia, the mare nuzzling Stev the same way Caramel had, although Stev believed she was seeking comfort herself. Stev and Avery would ride together on Caramel, a concession Stev had practically bullied the rest of them into.
Two riders was bad for the horse, but neither of the others was capable of holding Avery up if he fell unconscious again. To compensate, Stev transferred all the supplies in his saddlebags to Ophelia, oddly comforted in the similar organization. He was just placing the last of the ration bars inside when Rhett and Violet, half walking half carrying Avery, approached.
Despite the haste with which they had moved, Avery had grown worse, his pale skin now ashen in the dying firelight. The moon had risen while they prepared, and now the ride back to the settlement would be done under the cover of darkness, through snowdrifts, with an injured commander.
Stev had been through worse, but trepidation settled in his gut like a stone, weighing him down as he mounted Caramel, and looped him arms underneath Avery’s to pull him in front.
Of similar heights, Avery had to lean forward in order for Stev to see over his shoulder. Which would make the entire journey even more difficult. Stev looped both arms around Avery’s waist, one pressing the other man firmly against him just in case he lost consciousness, the other holding the reins in a loose grip. Avery’s thighs pressed against his own, warm through the linen breeches.
Rhett led the way, spurring his own horse forward through the snow along the path they had taken. Violet followed behind him, glancing back every so often to make sure Caramel and Ophelia, as well as the two riders, were keeping pass.
Wind whipped his cheeks as the followed they track along the river, the path back to the settlement—and help—clear of trees. In Summer, the ride would have been a pleasant couple of hours, the steady hum of the river a gentle rumble. In winter, ice cracked and crackled along the shoreline, stones glistening in the moonlight as freezing water struck their surface.
It was beautiful, cold and quiet. Stars winked to life overhead, the storm clouds from earlier blown away by the chill wind. As they rode, the horses hoofbeats were muffled by the snow, the hush that always accompanied storms like this smothering all sound. As if the very world was holding its breath while they raced home.
After a small eternity, two breaks to rest the horses, and a hastily eaten bag of trail mix Rhett had produced from somewhere, Stev could no longer feel his fingers, or his nose, but the lights of the settlement glowed warm and inviting against the backdrop of freshly fallen snow.
“I’ll get Hua, we’ll meet you at the stables,” Rhett called over his shoulder, urging his horse faster as the path opened up towards Main Street. Violet and Stev veered off towards the stables, and Stev’s small home attached to it.
Avery swayed in the saddle, barely staying upright as Stev swung himself down. Violet was at his side in an instant, arms raised to help Avery as he dragged himself out of the saddle. His skin was feverish despite the cold, and the brilliant hue of his eyes had gone dull and flat. White lines bracketed his mouth, and Stev felt his stomach drop.
Avery was composed, always. Or almost always.
“It seems you will always see me at my worst,” Avery muttered under his breath, inhaling sharply as Violet led him towards Stev’s home.
Adrenaline dissipated, and with it the endorphins that had kept his own aches and pains under control. The cut on his ribs had stopped bleeding, his knee ached with each step, and, as he pulled the tack free of the horses and hung it back up, his fingers looked blue to his eye.
Hua would be here soon, and everything would be fine.
They’d made it.
Sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, beaming down onto Stev’s still sleeping face. He twitched, stirring, the bitter scent of coffee infiltrating his subconscious and leading him towards wakefulness. Slowly, he lifted his head, opening bleary eyes that felt gritty, and impossibly heavy. A throw slid off his shoulders, pooling in his lap as he stretched limbs stiff from the freezing cold ride last night and the uncomfortable sleeping position he must have collapsed into after Hua had left.
The medic had taken one look at both of them and ordered them to strip out of their cold, wet clothes so she could examine the wounds. Rhett and Violet both helped, shucking linen on the floor in a mess that Violet bundled in her arms and carted…somewhere. Stev had been ordered to shower while Rhett made tea and Hua examined Avery, and the treatment of his own superficial wounds was quick, the slice he’d received from the centipede long, but not particularly deep or overly damaging. The antiseptic stung, as had the hot water, but Hua was skilled, and he was soon sporting a fresh bandage along his ribs, with orders to elevate and ice his knee. He barely remembered drinking the cup of tea Rhett gave him, or the rest of the rangers leaving.
He certainly didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch.
Right next to the Commander.
Whose boots were uncharacteristically jumbled on the worn, threadbare rug and who was currently eyeing him from the kitchen over a chipped white mug.
Stev rose, muscles stiffening in a way that had more to do with the eagle-eyed stare down he was receiving and less the hours long ride in the snow, clutching a semi-conscious Commander to him in the dark.
“I uh-how-how are you feeling?” he stammered, scratching the back of his neck under the scrutiny.
A cloud moved over the sun, plunging the room into twilight briefly. Stev felt the stillness that came with snow. A breath held, waiting, watching. Gold eyes flicked to his, pinning him in place.
Deliberately, he took a breath, rolling his shoulders and straightening his spine. The light came back, striking over blond hair, the heart of the flame made liquid.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Avery said simply, taking a sip of coffee and watching Stev over the rim of the mug. “Your assistance was appreciated.”
Stev stammered under the scrutiny. “I-uh, of of course. But— should you be up? Hua said…”
Hua had said they both needed to rest, although Avery was certainly in worse shape.
“I’m aware, and was resting, and now I’m getting coffee, and still resting.”
“I think resting typically implies being horizontal, Commander.” The words slipped out before Stev could swallow them back, relics from a different commander, one who berated soldiers for insubordination for failing to stand at attention when they should have been on medical leave.
Burying the memory as far down as he could, Stev instead focused on Avery, leaning against the kitchen counter as if he was in his own home and not Stev’s.
“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing some pants. Mine had blood on them.”
“Oh, not at all. I um… I hope they fit alright?”
“They’re a little small,” Avery replied, uncrossing his legs and examining the ends of a pair of Stev’s sweatpants, the cinched leg bands hovering two inches above Avery’s ankles.
“I can see if there are some larger ones?”
“No,” Avery said, the coffee mug hiding most of his expression but for the ends of his quirked up lips. “These suit me fine.”