I THINK it’s going well, Chase said a few nights later, when he and Shade were curled up together on the couch. Jason had turned in early, drained after a conversation he and Chase tried to have in German, with Shade synced up with Chase to make it a three-way endeavor. Jason had been doing well. He always tried to eat at least one meal in the same room with them and had let them cook for him three more times. He’d also let Chase touch him twice more, and Shade had initiated close proximity once.
They could still just make out the brutal pace that Jason fought with his bag, and Shade reported that Jason was continuing to work himself into exhaustion more often than not, but it was progress. He was definitely starting to become more comfortable with them. Or at least, he was making a solid effort to be.
He’s still being careful not to show us too much yet, Shade said, ever observant, But yes, I think—Suddenly he bolted up, detaching from the sync and running from the room to Jason’s door.
“Shade?” Chase called, running after him, “What?” But as he got closer, he could hear it too.
“Screaming!” Shade said, pounding at Jason’s door. The sounds were just wordless, pain-filled cries, and Chase almost threw himself at the door too. “Jason! Jason up! Jason!” Shade continued to bang and pound, ignoring Chase’s attempts to move him away. “Jason open!”
“Qu’est-ce que vous voulez?” finally came breathlessly from behind the door. Then, “Who is it? What’s going on?”
“Shade, Jason,” Shade said, finally stopping his hands from banging on the solid wood. “It’s Shade. Chase. Open please.”
There was a long moment of silence and then the familiar sound of the two locks popping open, followed by Jason poking his head out. He looked worn, more tired than they’d ever seen him. That was saying a lot.
“Sorry,” he said, voice raspy. “I didn’t mean to bother you guys.”
“No,” Chase said over Shade’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. Are you all right?”
“Nightmares,” Shade said, bringing one hand up to almost touch Jason’s cheek. Both Chase and Jason immediately sucked in a breath.
“Shade,” Chase said, “Your hands….”
Shade’s synth-skin had split open at both knuckles from his pounding on the wood, repair fluid leaking out as the nanites in his body worked to close the damage.
“I—I have bandages and stuff,” Jason said in a rush, looking wrecked. “Would that help?”
“It’s okay,” Chase said, carefully grasping one of Shade’s hands. Shade looked unconcerned. “We both have repair kits. I’ll go get what we need. Shade? Do you want to go to our room or the couch?”
“Couch,” Shade said, before looking up at Jason. “Together please.”
Jason’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure? I—”
“Together, please,” Shade said again.
“O-okay.”
JASON AND Shade made their way back to the living room while Chase went to get a repair kit. Minutes later they were all on the couch, Jason pressed as far into the side as he could get while Shade sat in the middle, Chase on his other side fixing up his hands.
“We’ll have to keep the covers on for a few days,” Chase said when he finished, before kissing Shade’s wrapped knuckles. Jason glanced away. It was clear he felt at fault. “And no syncing with your right hand until the palm knits up.” Shade nodded.
“But no harm,” he said, with a significant look at Jason.
“Right. No lasting damage. Everything’s perfectly all right.”
Minutes passed in silence, and Shade slowly spent the time inching closer to Jason, wanting the proximity, wanting to help take away some of his hurt. He stopped when he was just close enough to be able to reach out his left hand and set it right next to Jason’s knee, an inch away, Chase moving too so he was still pressed into Shade’s side.
More time passed, and then Jason let out a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut before carefully taking Shade’s hand.
JASON TRIED to withdraw after the night terrors.
He blamed himself for Shade’s injuries, the fact that he almost hadn’t been safe. If Shade had managed to open the door before Jason had woken up, Jason would have attacked in his sleep. He knew he would have.
Dammit, he wasn’t safe.
The problem was that Chase and Shade didn’t seem to care. They kept trying to cook for him, invited him to work on the puzzles, asked to join him the living room the few times he ventured out of his room. The hardest part was the touching. They kept… offering touch, and Jason, he knew he was touch starved probably, for comfort, but he couldn’t…. Shade had hurt himself. Might have gotten hurt worse. Jason didn’t have enough control. He wasn’t good enough.
One week turned into two, and he had his first evaluation. He tried to gloss over his feelings, pointed out the few positives like the fact that he ate the food Chase and Shade prepared. If he was going back to work, he needed to have some progress, so he twisted the words as best as he could and said that he thought things were going well, that he saw the merit of the program.
It was such a relief when he got a call from work, commending him on his progress so far and asking him for some time in the training hall.
“And you’re sure it’s a good idea?” Chase asked, concern everywhere in his face. “It’s not too soon?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “It’ll be good. They like having me in there when I’m not away or recovering from a mission. It’s just some one-on-one training. Besides, I know the guy. It’ll be a great way to ease back in again. That’s probably why they gave it to me.” He couldn’t wait. He was still training to exhaustion nearly every day, but he’d forgone his morning workout in order to be the best prepared. The bag did its job, but he’d been itching to spar with someone who knew what they were doing. And if work was calling him in after only two weeks in the program, that was a great sign that they were hoping to return him to the field soon. The sooner the better; then he could be useful again, and Chase and Shade could go try to take care of someone who could actually use the help. Who might get better from it, wasn’t a lost cause.
Chase nodded. “If, well, if you’re sure. We’re coming too, of course.”
Jason startled. “What? No, that’s fine. You don’t have to—”
“Actually we do. You’re under our supervision. We’re not supposed to leave you unattended for long periods for at least a month, and that’s if you make good progress.” Chase’s eyes skittered away. “You, well, you haven’t been making good progress.”
“I was assigned to you through my job though,” Jason tried to point out. “And they think I’m ready for training.”
“Please don’t fight us on this. With our relationship so new… we need to come. And I admit that I’d—I’d feel better about you training if I knew more about what would be taking place.”
Jason let out a breath. “We’re just going to a base facility. It’s not really a big deal.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset.”
Jason’s shoulders drew up. “Fine,” he managed. “But no guarantees once we get there. You’re still civilians.”
“That’s fine,” Chase said quickly. “We’ll follow the directions given to us once we get there.”
“…all right,” Jason said. “Fine. Let’s just go.”
The drive over was rough, Jason ever aware of his two Companions at his back, but tension finally eased back out of his shoulders when they met up with Tyson in front of the practice area. He went up to shake his hand and even let Tyson clap him on the back.
“Chase, Shade, this is Tyson.”
“Nice to meet you two,” Tyson said, holding out a hand to shake.
Chase took it. “I hope things go well.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Tyson smiled. “Jason and I have worked together before. He’s doing me a favor, getting back in the game for me.”
Chase opened his mouth, probably to ask another question, but Jason cut him off. “And I’m ready to get started if you get my meaning,” he said. “Gotta make sure you haven’t been slacking off.”
“Never!” Tyson said, hand over his heart.
“Chase, Shade, you two will have to wait in the holding area while we train. No civilians allowed.”
Shade looked mutinous, but Chase nodded. “Of course.”
“Great.” The two lackeys standing behind Tyson stepped forward to escort them out, leaving Jason alone with Tyson and an open playing field.
Jason couldn’t wait. There was only so much steam a person could blow off on their own, as opposed to working with another body, and he missed that aspect of his workouts after being put on hold. Besides, he liked Tyson. He’d spent enough time training with the guy before and after to trust him to have his back both on and off the field, and that was a precious thing.
Tyson was a good man, and he and his wife had even had Jason over a couple times, back before his last assignment.
He was a good man and he had a family, and privately Jason thought he was a little too soft for the position he was gunning for. He’d recommended Tyson for other jobs—ones that kept him out of the field a little more—but Tyson was adamant. This was what he wanted to do, so Jason took it upon himself to give the man the best training he possibly could. At least then he’d have a fighting chance at returning home.
They caught up while Tyson geared up, Jason stretching himself out and getting warm and ready. Then it was finally time to get started.
“Ready?” Tyson asked. It was as much a protocol as it was setting the scene. This was training for both of them, even though Jason was the superior. Jason worked in infiltration, and he often didn’t have the luxury of excess gear. He was in civvies. Tyson was the one combat ready with a gun.
“Let’s see if you can lay a hand on me this time,” Jason said, smirking.
Tyson didn’t reply, just dove forward and threw the first punch.
The fight favored Jason because he was wearing a lot less gear than Tyson was, but that also gave him the disadvantage of more open targets. It was a good thirty seconds before he was fully pinned for the first time, and that was because he invited it to give Tyson experience with someone fighting free.
Jason begged to be let go the second time he was pinned, and Tyson, the softie, faltered enough for Jason to extract himself, and he got up and broke into a run, making for the exit.
Tyson was a good man, and he paused before shooting Jason in the back, which was why he missed.
As Jason fell, pain spreading through him, he heard an out-and-out snarl, and then the door was thrown open, Shade running in and throwing himself at a bewildered Tyson, Chase close at his heels. Along with three lackeys.
Jason fought to get his breath back, even as Chase crouched next to him and started a hover sensor, frantically talking about the fact that Shade had heard a gunshot but there wasn’t any blood and he didn’t know how to treat that.
“Shade!” Jason bellowed as loud as he could. The yell brought Shade up short, and he changed direction from his obvious intent to eviscerate Tyson and ran to Jason’s side.
“Here,” he said, immediately picking up Jason’s hand. “Here. Don’t hurt, don’t hurt, be safe.”
“Stand down,” Jason told the men and woman pointing their guns at his Companions. “They’re fine. We’re fine. They just weren’t briefed about the training today. And apparently this room isn’t as soundproof as it’s supposed to be.”
“Jason,” Chase said, “Jason, Shade heard the gunshot and heard that it connected and heard you—”
“Uh, that was me,” Tyson said, holding up his hands. He’d taken off his mask and had left the gun on the floor. “Rubber bullets. Since he, uh. Since he ran?”
“And you fucking missed,” Jason muttered. “Hesitated, so you didn’t shoot me high enough. You’re supposed to aim for the meat of the shoulder, not the rib cage, Jesus fucking ow. If this was a real deal, your target’d be bleeding out right now. And probably not talking.”
“Sorry,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ll do better. I know I’m a couple seconds off.”
“Sure,” Jason said, fighting down a wince. “Just gimme a minute.”
Shade snarled again, long and loud, enough that Tyson stepped back.
“I think what Shade means is that, as your Companion, he feels you’ve done enough for today, recovering as you are,” said Chase, voice clipped. “I admit to feeling partial to that sentiment.”
Jason pushed the pain aside and sat up, looking from Shade to Chase. They both looked shaken up, and Shade was actually trembling a little, hands clenched. Chase seemed slightly better, but then he—hadn’t apparently heard Jason get shot.
Jason didn’t want them in his life, but he had them either way. He knew he hadn’t been the best in the last couple of weeks. He didn’t want to hurt them more.
“Okay,” Jason said after a moment. “I guess I’m done for the day. Tyson, I’ll write up your assessment at home and send it over, sound good?”
“Yessir,” Tyson said, saluting. “Thank you, sir. It was an honor to train with you again.”
“Same,” Jason said. “Wouldn’t mind just a regular sparring session with you sometime.”
“But not now,” Chase said, standing up and offering Jason a hand. “Right?”
“Not now,” Jason allowed, taking it.
THE RIDE back was… awkward. Shade seemed apoplectic with rage, and even Chase just sat through the drive in stony silence. And it was a killer on Jason’s back too. He couldn’t help wincing every time he shifted in his seat.
“We’re not taking the stairs today,” Chase said, when they got into Jason’s building. Jason dreaded it, but he let himself be led over to the elevator. He could deal with being trapped in one for a few minutes, if it made his Companions feel better. The sooner they felt he was “better,” the sooner they’d back off.
At least the ride up was quick, and then Jason was unlocking the door to his place, stepping inside followed closely by Chase, Shade bringing up the rear. Shade immediately disappeared into the kitchen.
“Come on,” Chase said, telegraphing his movements at reaching toward Jason’s shoulder. Jason shrank back, and Chase withdrew his hand, clenching it. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Jason asked.
“To your room,” Chase said. “You’re lying down, and I’m going to work on your back. You must be one giant bruise right now. You need to get it treated, at least by working it out.”
“Work on my back?” Jason said, freezing.
“Please,” Chase said, tone a touch desperate. “Please let us help. You didn’t hear Shade when the bullet—Please.”
“I’m really fine. I mean it. He just hit me with a rubber bullet. There’ll be some bruising, but I’ve had way worse.”
“It doesn’t matter that you’ve had worse, Jason! You’re hurting now. I—this is what I’m supposed to do. If you don’t want us here, you’re free to send us away and get assigned new Companions, but while we are here, you need to let us try to actually help you!”
“I don’t want your help! I want you to stay away from me so you’ll be safe! I want everyone to stay away from me so they’ll be safe!”
Chase froze where he stood. “Do you want to send us away? You could—you could contact the agency. There were at least three other matches that I know of, I’m sure—”
“Don’t.” Jason let out a shaky breath. “You know that doesn’t matter. You know I’d be just as bad with any other Companion.”
“Jason, please. What can I do?”
Shade came back into the hall and stepped behind Jason again. He was carrying several ice packs, a towel, and a bottle of water. “Sorry,” he said, glaring down at the floor. “Shade’s fault.”
Jason looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Shade got hurt. Now Jason mad. Been mad. No trust.”
Jason scrubbed a hand over his hair, ignoring how the movement made his back flare. “I barely know you two.”
“That’s because you withdrew the moment something happened,” Chase said. “You could know us. You were… you were starting to. Before.”
Before Shade ripped his hands apart trying to get into Jason’s room. Jason stayed silent, shifting on his feet. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. His back hurt, and he was running on adrenaline, and he just wanted to go hit his bag.
“Jason,” Chase said, tone a lot softer. “Can we compromise? Just go and sit on the couch? I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but ice your back at least. Please.”
He was offering a way out of the talk they kept putting off. Jason wasn’t dumb enough not to take it. “Okay. Couch is fine.”
Chase insisted that Jason actually lie down on the couch on top of the ice pack, and Jason complied if only to let the AI think he’d won something. Chase sat down in the armchair, Shade moving to sit on the floor in front of him.
“We could watch something?” Chase offered.
Jason swallowed. “Sure. Pick whatever. I don’t care.”
With the television playing in the background, Jason let his mind drift, trying to think up a solution. Companions were nonnegotiable. Work wouldn’t let him back in the field if he kept failing his psych evaluations, and Chase and Shade, for lack of a better description, were his twenty-four-hour psych evals. He needed to get along with them, and he needed to do it in a way he could handle. That meant letting them in at least a little bit. Enough that they could be convinced he was getting better. That was all he needed.
He could… make some accessions.
“Shade, Chase.”
“Yes, Jason?”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated with the situation. I’m mad that Shade got hurt because of me. I’m mad that, if he had managed to get into my room, I would have done the hurting. And I’m mad that I can’t fix this. I know I’m not easy. I can’t make any promises. But I do want to be better.” I want to work. “It’s… going to take me a while.”
“Jason, that’s fine,” Chase said. “You’re dealing with incredible amounts of trauma. Neither of us expects that you’ll be better quickly. This takes time. All we’re asking is that you let us try to help. That you let us in, so we can best do that.”
“I don’t know how to be better,” Jason said, the words punching out of him. “I don’t—I don’t know how to be anything but this.” And then Chase was right next to him, kneeling in front of the couch. Jason tensed, wincing as his back engaged, but he didn’t move. That was something, that he knew not to attack.
“Can I touch you?” Chase begged. “Just a touch of comfort. On your arm. Anything. Please.”
Jason had to try. He wanted to work. And, well, he knew it would put Chase at ease too. He offered up his hand.
Chase carefully wrapped his fingers around Jason’s, bowing his head over it. It was a warm, steady pressure. Not unpleasant. Jason swallowed again and let Chase take what he wanted.
Chase really was getting comfort from this too.
It made his stomach hurt, that Chase obviously cared so much, wanted to help take care of him. Jason knew he was difficult. He didn’t know how much he could manage.
But at the end of the day, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to hurt Chase. So if this helped him, Jason could let him hold his hand.
He tried to control his breathing, let himself relax a little more, let his eyes slide closed.
JASON SNAPPED awake an unknown amount of time later, breathing hard, not sure where he was. He froze where he lay, felt the presence of a warm body close next to him, holding his hand, thumb stroking over the back of it. He was thrumming with tension but unwilling to attack before determining the situation.
Then he recognized his living room ceiling, placed the faintest of whirrings that was Chase breathing next to him, holding on to his hand with both of his own. Shade was sitting up near the other end of the couch, watching him.
“Are you awake?” Chase asked softly, as if not to startle.
“Yeah,” Jason said, throat scratchy. His back hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as it would have been. The ice was helping. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Please,” Chase said. “We were thrilled. Can you get back to sleep again? You could, if you wanted to. You have nothing else to do today.”
Jason shook his head. It’d been a miracle that he’d managed to fall asleep at all, an entire effort of trying to relax his body. Now he was trying very hard not to feel trapped, and it wasn’t working.
“Once I’m up, I’m up.”
“Oh well,” Chase sighed. “Better some over none. Shade?”
Shade made a questioning sound, moving even closer to Jason, one hand hovering over Jason’s leg. Jason held himself still and controlled his breathing. He was too warm. But he was trying, dammit.
“Too much?” Shade asked, looking up at Jason’s face.
“Yes,” Jason bit out.
“It’s fine,” Chase said quickly, as Shade moved away again, sitting back on his feet. “Jason… thank you. I can’t express how much it means to us that you allowed yourself to sleep.”
Jason shrugged and sat up gingerly, tugging his hand back. Chase let go without a fuss. “I said I would try. This is me trying.”
“And it means a lot. It does. This all works on your efforts, Jason. Whatever you put in, that’s what you’ll get out. That’s how you start to heal.”
Right. Sure.
No, no, if he was going to do this, he needed to stop the internal negativity. There was only so much you could do if your thoughts didn’t match what went on outside of them.
Jason glanced at the television. One of his reality cooking shows was playing, entertaining but easy, and no threat in any way. He took a breath and then moved to the very end of the couch and, after a second, forced himself to pat the cushion next to him.
“You could, um. You both could sit. If you want to.”
The two androids glanced at each other and then both moved at once, still slowly, to sit on the couch, Chase in the middle and Shade at the end.
Jason stayed close to his side, but after several moments Shade and Chase shifted so that they were tucked up into each other. Jason guessed they both needed comfort too, and he felt bad about it. If Shade really had heard a bullet hit him, then no wonder they were both feeling so upset. And he hadn’t been doing much to help the situation either.
Regardless of whether or not he wanted them around, they were his Companions. He was the one who’d picked them. Which meant he had to try even harder to protect them.
Scaring or upsetting someone hurt just as much as physical wounds sometimes.
He steeled himself and scooted a little closer to the middle, noting how Chase was staying completely, utterly still, eyes glued to the screen. Letting Jason move at his own pace. He appreciated that. It was one of the reasons he could move at all.