Requiem
DAMION HAD stayed next to Requiem the last five days, and Requiem was about ready to climb the walls from not being able to plug in. “Are you doing all right?’
“I am acceptable,” Requiem mumbled from where he was sitting on the bed, back against the wall, staring at his capsule like it was a long-lost lover that he couldn’t touch.
Damion had ordered him to stay in bed when he wasn’t in the bathroom, and he had followed those orders to the max. But he was… screamingly bored. And uninformed. He hated not knowing what was going on in the system and around the Zeus.
“Command is going to talk to Arkin, but still won’t do anything to him, even with the attempted rape.” Damion explained as he sat next to Requiem and handed him a small sweet piece of protein bar. “Although he’s under house arrest, I think they’re ready to give him another Core now too.”
Requiem’s hand paused on its way to take the bar. He moved his gaze to Damion’s face, asking him if he was serious. Letting out an inaudible sigh, he took the bar, suddenly lacking an appetite.
“Then another will be terminated,” he finally stated, the bar hanging limp between his fingers.
“Not if we take care of it,” Damion said slowly in a low voice as if afraid someone would hear.
Requiem’s gaze shot up to meet Damion’s dark eyes, an intelligent mind working furiously behind them. “I obey your orders,” Requiem stated just as quietly, a type of maliciousness appearing in him as well. Not out of pure viciousness but protection and revenge for his fellow Cores, and for himself.
“What do you need to do the job from here?” Damion had said he wasn’t sure if Requiem was ready to plug in yet, and it was their best chance to avoid suspicion if he did not plug in for another few days. Neither the Creators nor anyone else would expect him to, therefore they would not be looking for him. The Commander would have a difficult time accusing Requiem this time of murder since he would not be in physical contact with Arkin or in the same room as him. The Creators wanted Requiem to improve the Impulse Barrier. They would be far busier attempting to figure out how he had performed the task than to reprimand him.
“I have everything I require in the capsule,” Requiem replied, finally unwrapping the protein bar and taking a bite. He blinked once, looking at the bar and chewing slowly, cataloging the taste and finding it appealing. He savored it as he looked back up at Damion. Every day his Fighter brought him something new to try, and he had yet to find something he disliked.
“Where does he need to be?” Damion began to pet the back of Requiem’s head slowly, as if he weren’t aware of his actions.
Requiem’s eyes closed as he sighed softly in contentment, swallowing the sweet bite. “It depends on what particular scenario you wish to approach the situation with.”
“Something that leaves no chance for them to track it back to us, but the bastard dies a painful and much-deserved death.”
“I can block any tracking methods, making it impossible for them to see that I jacked in, especially since I am not cleared to do so at this time. That will be easy. Is Arkin still under house arrest?” Requiem took another bite out of the bar, his appetite reappearing as he considered their options.
“As far as I know, until he’s let out for his meeting. I don’t know when that is, though,” Damion admitted. All he knew was what Juni and 108 had found out.
“Then we had better expedite the process.” Requiem finished the rest of the bar, licking the remnants from his fingers as he shuffled out from underneath Damion’s gentle hand and off the bed. He was once again wearing only his boxers and one of Damion’s shirts. The doctor had advised against him wearing his suit, saying that the open areas that surrounded his ports might irritate the damaged jack points on his body. “If we do not act quickly, there is a possibility that after his meeting he will be free from house arrest.” He moved toward his capsule, placing the empty wrapper in the disposal as he walked.
“You’re going to do it now?” Damion asked, sounding surprised, but moved with him off the bed. “How?”
“Jack in, search the system for Arkin’s location, and receive a visual on the possibilities of termination.” Requiem started to step into his capsule and realized that he couldn’t access the jacks in his current attire. Without pausing, he pulled Damion’s shirt over his head and threw it toward the bed. His boxers wouldn’t get in the way, but the shirt would have. He lowered himself into the capsule, his mind working furiously to push away the small pains his body didn’t want him to forget.
“Don’t push yourself. That’s an order,” Damion said in a worried tone.
Requiem paused, still sitting, his hands on both sides of the capsule. “Damion, I am the only Core with the ability to achieve what I am about to do. I reached this point by pushing myself to the limit. If I cannot push myself, then I cannot do what is required of me at this time.”
“You don’t have to make it sound like I’m being unreasonable.” Damion crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Do what you have to do, but still… don’t fuck all your healing out the window.”
“You are not being unreasonable, merely overcautious. You needed to know clearly what I intend to do and how I will achieve it. That is all I was explaining. I will do my best to achieve your orders.”
Requiem lowered himself into the capsule. His fingers flipped open the control panel and he punched in his code to activate the jacks. The plugs slammed into his input ports, and it was the first time he could ever remember it being so painful. He struggled to breathe, his spine bowing as he entered the system. The pain disappeared as his mind expanded, flitting across the circuits and bypassing the energy pulses that flashed past him, lest he get caught up in their attractive power.
He went straight for the observational systems and followed the circuitry to the monitor in Arkin’s room, looking for him.
Fortunately for Requiem, Arkin was sitting on the edge of the Core capsule making preparations to receive his new Core in the near future. The look of malicious glee in the man’s eyes caused Requiem to nearly lose his concentration when he felt his own… heat. Was this anger? It was possible. He would have to investigate the feeling at a later time. But for now, he had to concentrate on the task at hand. Looking closer at the capsule, he discovered something that would have made his blood turn cold if he had concentration to spare.
Arkin sharpened one of the smaller knives he owned. The Alpha obviously knew he would receive a new Core in the next few days.
There was the rust color of dried blood in the bottom of the capsule; next to every hole where a jack would exit was a small blade.
Trying to push it out of his mind, Requiem switched from the observational circuits to the inner workings of the capsule, pulling in power from it. He could feel his body take a deep breath as he prepared to do something he had never done before: manipulate the jacks. Storing energy for a minute or two, he released it all at once so that the jacks used the freed power to spring out of their resting places and wind around Arkin’s form, dragging him into the capsule. The jacks wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but they would cause him quite a bit of constricting pain before Requiem went on to his next action.
Arkin began to scream in both panic and pain, struggling against the electrical cords binding his arms. “What the fuck is this?” He flailed side to side, the arm with the knife trying to hack into the half-centimeter-thick cords.
Requiem’s body took another deep breath inside his capsule as he split his consciousness through the circuits. One part stayed tentatively within his body, the other within the capsule that Arkin was flailing in, and the third to the comm system on the wall of Arkin’s quarters. “Fighter Arkin, I suggest that you cease struggling. Doing so will not help your current situation.”
The bindings around Arkin became more numerous, holding him tightly so that he could not move his arms.
“What the fuck is this, you insane piece of shit!” Arkin didn’t stop fighting; he struggled harder against his restraints. “Let me go! Let me go now!”
The more Arkin fought, the tighter the cords became. The whole event had to seem like a freak accident in case there was an investigation.
“The chances of that happening are highly improbable,” Requiem said over the comm unit. “Nor do I follow your orders or any other Fighter’s but my own. This is what you Fighters would call… justice. I am receiving justice not for myself, but for the five Cores you terminated for no plausible reason and for 108, who suffered at your hands. I’m disposing of an inadequate Fighter as well as preventing you from harming another Core. My… hand is merely carrying out the unofficial sentence.”
“You’re a murdering freak! Puppet bastard!” Arkin was sweating profusely as he realized he couldn’t get free. “I killed five? Who fucking cares? You killed three! You’re scared. Scared that you’re like me!”
“You forget, former Fighter Arkin, I do not feel fear. Nor do I feel guilt. I feel nothing,” Requiem said as he gathered more energy from the circuits. “I am nothing like you, for there is a very distinct difference between us. You have terminated five innocents, Cores that could not defend themselves and were programmed to not go against their Fighter’s orders. You took advantage of that fact. You have killed five innocents, while I have killed three guilty.”
There was a distinct pause, and a hum, increasing in volume, could be heard from the capsule that Arkin was currently trapped in.
“I apologize for my miscalculation. Make that four guilty.”
With those words, Requiem released the energy. An electrical panel beneath Arkin exploded in unseen sparks, conducting power through the metal knives embedded in Arkin’s body with maximum voltage, electrocuting him.
Arkin screamed as bodily functions began to shut down, secrete, and then relax until there was no more movement from his body.
Requiem retreated from the communication systems, covering his tracks by smoothing over the circuits, almost as someone would hide their footprints in the sand. He also left signs of capsule failure. It was rare, but electrical surges and equipment faults had occurred in the past, damaging Cores and—at times—the Fighter in the room. He did this all the way back to his capsule. Once there, he looped the system time stamp as if he had never jacked in, then pushed his consciousness back into his own body.
Requiem came back to awareness gasping, eyes shooting open as his fingers groped for his control panel. With a shaking hand, he punched in his code again and disengaged the jacks. He nearly screamed as they aborted from his ports, pain ripping up his spine and head from his damaged inputs. Requiem lay there for a moment, catching his breath before reporting, “Mission complete.”
“I knew you could do it, but what damage did you take?”
Damion had not left Requiem’s side, and he leaned down and picked up Requiem, who was shaking uncontrollably, to carry him back to the bed.
Requiem stifled a groan. Blood leaked down his pale skin from three damaged ports in his back. “Minimal. I did what had to be done.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and resting his head against Damion’s shoulder. “He had installed knives in the bottom of his Core capsule. One above each port.”
“Sadistic ass.” Damion sat Requiem on the bed and then grabbed a discarded towel to place against his wounded ports. “You’re sure he’s dead?”
Requiem couldn’t help the hiss of pain that escaped his parted lips. “Positive. Before I retracted I checked all vital signs.” He attempted to sit up. “I will go into the bathroom so I do not bleed on your resting place.”
“It’s fine, just sit.” Damion dabbed gently at the ports. “Should I take you to Medical?”
Requiem turned and gave Damion a look, pinching his lips in pain. “If you take me to Medical, they will know that I jacked in, defeating the whole purpose of covering my trail.”
“I know, but I don’t know how bad these wounds are. Remember, I’m a Fighter, not a medic.” Damion smirked, but it seemed more worried than full of humor. “At least take some analgesics. We have some in the bathroom.”
Requiem nodded wordlessly, his body throbbing. Even though only five ports were damaged, it felt like one big pulse from head to toe. “I will do as you order. I was not ready to jack back in, but saw no other choice. If we did not act now, there was an 87 percent chance that Arkin would have been freed and given another Core to torture.” He slid to his feet to get to the bathroom.
“I’ll get them—you sit.” Damion gently pushed down on Requiem’s shoulder before heading to the bathroom.
The regular medicine wouldn’t kill the pain much, but Requiem hoped it would help enough.
He eased back onto the bed with a sigh, making sure the towel was underneath him before lying down and closing his eyes. “There is only a 0.001 percent chance they will deduce that it was not an accidental death. And an even less percentile that they will figure out it was me. Even if they do, if most of the Medical staff has the same mentality as Doctor Condo, they will not say anything. Especially after they see what is in the bottom of the capsule.”
“They won’t find out. You’re too good.” Damion handed Requiem three pills and a small cup of water. “Here, try this.”
Requiem gave a brief hint of a smile. He took the pills and the water. “I appreciate your confidence in my abilities. It seems as if since I arrived on the Zeus all they are being used for is to terminate unworthy Alphas.” He put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with the water. “Thank you.”
“You were saving lives. All those Cores who would have died and the ones he would have tortured. You also did what I ordered you to do.”
“Both points are true. I do not regret what I have done. But it was not what I… hypothesized doing with my advanced abilities when I decided to upgrade myself.” Requiem turned onto his side so that he could see Damion better and to take pressure off his ports. “I want to help not only myself but other Cores, and in the process help the Chrysalis Corporation become better equipped to engage in battles with our enemies. That is what I had planned.”
“You’ll do all that and more.” Damion smiled as he took the cup back and put it on the table. “I believe you are a man with limitless abilities.”
“Nothing is impossible. It simply takes some work to find the possibilities,” Requiem said, his voice a bit of a mumble as his eyes fluttered closed. Between the damage done to his body and the fast-acting pills Damion had given him, he was suddenly very sleepy. “Once those possibilities are found, it merely takes a little more work to make them possible for all.”
This bed dipped as Damion sat down. “You keep saying that, and I know you believe it, but every one of us has our limitations. I hope you don’t push your limits to the point that they lead to your death.”
Damion
DAMION GENTLY stroked Requiem’s cheek until he fell asleep. He sent a wave to Juni and tried to act normal. They talked about their upcoming week of leave, and Damion made a point of saying that Requiem seemed to be healing well but was a bit upset about not being able to plug in. He was in a state of shock. It took him about two hours to understand what he was feeling. He had always known taking a life was not only a possibility but also a likely eventuality when becoming a Fighter. Damion had never expected one of those deaths to be another Alpha Fighter. He knew Arkin had deserved the justice he was dealt. But did Damion step over a gray space into a dark realm the Commander and Creators occupied?
Requiem slept for about sixteen hours straight, and when he did wake, he was still groggy and seemed confused about what was going on around him. The moment he looked at Damion, it was as if his eyes wouldn’t open fully. He could finally speak, but it was a mumbled comment. Something about wishing to be clean as he struggled to untangle himself from blankets and get to the bathroom.
Damion was waiting with a towel when Requiem came out. He wrapped Requiem into the stiff material and briskly dried him off. “You feel any better?”
“A little more awake, yes. Thank you. I apologize for resting for so long.” Requiem lifted the towel, drying his hair, not self-conscious in the least as the cloth fell away from his body where Damion had wrapped it. “Is there any intel on the Arkin situation?”
Requiem
DAMION NODDED, leaning back against the doorframe of the bathroom and crossing his arms over his chest. “They found him around an hour after he was supposed to be at the meeting. They already ruled it an accident.”
Requiem let out a breath of relief, tension he didn’t realize he was holding in easing from his shoulders. “Excellent.” He gingerly walked to the closet to grab a pair of boxers. “Fighter Juni and 108’s reactions?”
“I can’t read 108 well, but I’d say it was a bit of happiness with a dash of suspicion.” Damion smirked. “Juni said we should hold a party while on leave.”
“I have never been on leave. It was unwise to do so without a Fighter because of the kidnappers.”
Who wouldn’t want a human who would obey your every order or merely lie there silently to be beaten or raped? Cores were perfect for black market brothels, and if one was left unguarded for too long, they could be taken and used for such purposes. The kidnappers had become very adept at tearing out or deactivating the tracking device that Cores had implanted at birth, and they didn’t care much if it hurt the Core or even permanently damaged them—the implants lay too close to the spine and brain stem to avoid injury. Some smarter kidnappers had even managed to override the tracking devices so that they answered to the kidnappers and not the Creators or Corporation.
Requiem sagged down to sit on the bed. All the muscles in his body ached. “What do you do on leave?”
“Most go home to their families, others go get drunk, high on drug stimulants, or worse. Others don’t even leave Corp areas.” Damion explained, watching him closely. “Do you need Medical?”
“I am acceptable.” Requiem lay down on his stomach. “What will you do?”
Damion shrugged casually. “I don’t know if I should head home or not. I don’t particularly miss my small town, plus I’m not sure how they’d take to meeting you.”
“Meeting me?” Requiem repeated Damion’s words. He looked at him from where his head rested on his arms. “Why would you want them to meet me?”
“You’re my Core. It’s a big deal.” Damion waved his hand through the air as if erasing Requiem’s words. “I mean, I put my life in your hands.”
“You are adapted to Cores and the way we are. I am sure that my presence will be… disconcerting to your family unit,” Requiem stated. “May I suggest that you travel to see your family? I will remain here.”
“No.” Damion shook his head quickly. “Let’s go with Juni to Lunar. When we were talking about our break a few months back he said his family would put us up for the week.”
“Is 108 accompanying him?” Requiem had hoped Damion would leave him on the Zeus. If he did, and without the looming threat of Arkin, Requiem could work on the Ares. He shifted his position on the bed, withholding a wince. “When will we depart?”
“Yeah, Juni isn’t about to leave 108 behind, because where he is from, Cores are a big sign of making it. As for when we leave, probably in a few days. Have you even been off the Zeus?”
“Yes. I was originally in a Core Lab and then on the Hera for training. It wasn’t until approximately three years ago the Creators assigned me to the Zeus. I pushed through an unofficial order to have me sent here because I knew that you would eventually be assigned here. But I have never been in what you refer to as ‘the outside world.’ I have never been planet side.”
Damion looked at Requiem with some concern. “You also have nothing considered normal clothing, but we can fix that when we get to the relay at Venus.”
“You are correct. All I have are my uniforms. I never had any need for anything else.” Requiem looked at Damion, tilting his head so that he could see his Fighter better. “What is wrong?”
Damion sighed, shaking his head. “You just look exhausted. You want anything from the mess?”
“I do not require food at this time. Thank you.” Requiem watched his Fighter, knowing that Damion was not completely verbalizing what was wrong.
“What’s the first thing you want to do in the outside world?” Damion asked curiously as he sat on the bed and gently grasped Requiem’s hand, looking down at it.
Requiem thought about it for a minute, somewhat intrigued that Damion had asked him. “I do not know. I have never given it much thought.”
“Just stay near me. We’ll try and dress you and 108 normal enough so that people won’t think you’re Cores simply by the way you look.” Damion turned Requiem’s hand in his own. “How do the ports feel?”
“They are….” Requiem paused, looking at his hand in Damion’s and the port on the back of it. “They are unacceptable. As much as I do not… like the prospect, I cannot jack in for a while.”
“Is it addicting?”
Requiem thought about it for a moment, his fingers curling and uncurling in Damion’s. “Imagine being blind and the only time you can see is when you plug in to the system. Not only can you now see, you can see everything, know everything, and gain knowledge. So yes, it is addicting.”
“What about the real world? I know on this ship it’s boring, but outside of this, it’s rather, well, depressing at times, but also amazing.” Damion gave him a small smile.
“I have only seen pictures of the outside world, so I really have nothing to compare it to.” he rolled onto his side with a minimal wince. “Being integrated into the system, being a part of the system, is my world.”
“Well, there is another world out there for you to explore.” Damion patted Requiem’s hip casually. “I will buy you all sorts of sweet treats.”
Requiem blinked slightly. “Treats? What are those?” he inquired, slightly confused. Damion had become more tactile with him and he did not mind the feel of his Fighter’s hand on him. “And there is always more to explore. The system is never ending. There is always another pocket to discover.”
“You know, you can say I’m right from time to time.” Damion stood up and went over to grab the extra blanket off the chair that he had asked Requiem to request from Supply.
“I never said you were right or wrong. I do not have enough data to say otherwise. I merely provided another point.” Requiem’s gaze followed Damion intently. It almost seemed as if Damion was keeping himself on pins and needles since he had kissed him, and Requiem wanted his carefree Fighter back. “And you still did not answer my question. What is a treat?”
“It is smaller than a dessert, but it is as sweet—except sometimes it can be savory. There are many types.” Damion put the blanket over Requiem, making sure to cover his shoulders. “I think you will like it.”
Requiem tucked the edge of the blanket under his chin and cocooned himself in the rest of it without seeming to pay attention, being quiet for a few minutes. “I believe it may be wise for me to resume eating my allotted food from the mess hall. While I have been intrigued by the food you have brought me to try, I am starting to experience the… effects of not ingesting the vitamins and chemicals over a long period of time.”
“Your stomach hurts?” Damion laughed softly, shaking his head. “Sorry.”
“No, that is not it exactly. Although I have experienced some initial abdominal discomfort. The problem seems to be that I am starting to… to feel, I suppose. Feelings and emotions that I do not understand and have never experienced before. It is… disconcerting.”
“I want to show you that feelings are good.”
“Feelings and emotions are compromising. Feelings have no place within the system, and therefore having them makes the system harder to understand,” Requiem replied clinically, but he believed those words.
“You’re human. You don’t have to rely on the system all the time.” The Fighter let out a long sigh, verifying what Requiem had known the whole time—that the system was very addicting to Cores and that it was hard for a regular human and a Core to connect.
“It is all I know.” Requiem turned on his back again, only to wince slightly and turn back to his stomach. “It is similar to me asking you to stop feeling.”
Damion didn’t argue that point. “Just rest, there is no one out to hurt you.”
“There are many people out to hurt me. You are the only one I trust not to.” Requiem closed his eyes.
Damion smiled warmly at that and watched Requiem fall asleep again as he wondered if he could risk leaving. He was getting too attached to Requiem in a way that was dangerous for both of them.
He stood as soon as he was sure that Requiem was deeply asleep, and Damion headed to the mess hall. He was happy to see Juni there and immediately went to sit by his friend.
“You by yourself?” Juni looked surprised, searching behind Damion as if he were waiting for Requiem to appear.
“Yeah. He’s asleep, and I just needed space.” Damion scratched his temple and looked around the room.
“Something wrong?” Juni asked, frowning slightly.
“Ready for the leave.” Damion needed to get away and be around normal people.
“Have a girl lined up?”
Damion snorted. “No.”
Juni laughed before he took a sip of his drink. “Need me to arrange a girlfriend experience?”
“I don’t need a hooker.” At least not at that moment. Not unless his confused feelings toward his Core became worse.
“What’s wrong, Damion?” Juni asked, and in that moment, Damion was happy to have one friend.
He may not get along with the other Alphas as well as he had with the Betas, but he had Juni.
He unloaded all his confusion at Juni’s feet. He tried to keep his voice down so no one overheard. “I’m not sure how I feel about 47.” He tugged at his hair.
“Feel how?” Juni frowned.
“I mean I can’t decide half the time if I wanna choke him out or if I want to kiss him.”
Juni was quiet for a few minutes. “Kiss? You not getting the girl feelings for him.”
Damion punched Juni in the shoulder, hard.
“Son of a bitch!” He yelped and a few heads turned to look at them. Damion beating Juni up was not a new sight and they went back to their meals. “Don’t take your sexual frustrations out on me.”
“I’m serious.” He snapped as he looked at his open palms. “What is wrong with me?”
Juni rubbed his shoulder. “You need to get laid.”
“That’s it, huh?” he muttered.
“Damion, you’ve been in a ton of shit the last few months. We both have. When was the last time you got off with something other than your hand?”
His lack of reply was enough for his friend.
“See?” Juni sighed and crossed his arms over the top of the table. “Look. There is a reason why they’re made to obey. They’ve said that it’s one of their functions, but you and me, we’re not going to do that. My dad always supported my screwing around. He said a man’s sexual drive was equal to the factors in that man’s life. He said we wouldn’t have gods dedicated to sex if we weren’t supposed to have it. There are plenty of women here on ship, but you run the risk of one of them spreading gossip about more than your lack of skill in bed.”
“I’m fine in bed.”
Juni raised his hands. “I’m not offering.”
Damion pushed at Juni’s shoulder, this time almost dumping the man on the floor. “I’d rather fuck a computer terminal than your ugly ass.”
Juni laughed as he clung to the table so not to fall to the floor. “See?”
He shook his head. “See what?”
“You need to get out. When we get to Lunar I’ll take you out. We’ll drink and find girls to take to some hotel, maybe two apiece, and we’ll both feel better. You’ll get all of this out of your system.” Juni sounded very calm and certain. “And you shouldn’t get too attached. They’re waiting for you to slip up, Damion. I get that he may be a friend, you want to protect him, but keep it there.”
“All right. Thanks.”
“Sure. I am highly educated.” Juni winked.
Damion stood up and smacked the back of Juni’s head. “You’re an idiot.”
Damion felt better after his talk with Juni. Maybe his friend had a point. He was only horny, and finding yourself getting too attached to another person could be dangerous. Although Juni had tried a little too enthusiastically to convince Damion that his attraction and feelings toward Requiem were the result of sexual frustration, and it seemed a little unwarranted. Maybe this was merely something Fighters with a bit of a soft spot went through. Or perhaps he could order Requiem to let Damion fuck him stupid, but only once, to get it out of his system.
He felt guilty as shit even thinking about that as he walked slowly back to his room. There would be no way in hell he’d ever be able to ask that of Requiem and then look himself in the mirror the following day.
Requiem
REQUIEM DIDN’T sleep for long, and when he did wake up, he was slightly confused as to why he had done so. It took him a few minutes to realize it was because Damion wasn’t there in the room with him. He sat up, the blanket still wrapped around him, and he blinked blearily around the empty space. His gaze fell upon the capsule, and for a moment he entertained the thought of jacking in and finding his Fighter. He pushed the idea aside. For one: Damion had every right to go where he wanted without taking Requiem with him or even letting him know where he was going. For two: he knew that Damion would be very, very angry with him if he came back and found Requiem as debilitated as he might be if he abused his ports even more.
He slowly lay back down, planning to wait with everything but his eyes covered by the blanket. It was then that he felt something he had never felt before, but he could guess what it was.
Loneliness.
Damion
DAMION ENTERED his dark quarters with a long sigh, rubbing his eyes as he tried to get his thoughts back in order after his walk back from Juni. He sat down on the bed to remove his boots and was surprised when he saw the blankets move. “You’re awake?”
“I have been in a state of awareness for a while now, yes.” Requiem peeked out of his cocoon, his gaze meeting Damion’s.
Damion was unable to help the laugh that bubbled out of him at the sight. “You look like one of those odd insect pods they grow on Lunar for the silks. Are you feeling okay? Cold?”
“I am fine,” Requiem replied, his gaze intent on Damion’s face. He shifted until he was in an upright position, still somehow making it look graceful even while he fought the blankets. The fabric slipped from his head, revealing his shock of white hair standing up in nearly all directions.
Damion reached out and combed Requiem’s soft hair back from his forehead. “You feel any better or still tired?”
“Both,” Requiem admitted after a moment, his eyes closing. He moved his head to follow the movement. “I do not feel as tired as I did before.”
“That’s a plus. Tomorrow you’ll almost feel normal, and after a while you’ll be able to jack back into your computer.” Damion touched the port on the base of Requiem’s skull. “You can look up what treats are and such. If you don’t like the leave to Lunar, then I won’t take you off ship again, deal?”
Requiem opened his eyes a mere slit for a moment to look at Damion silently before closing them again. “If that is acceptable to you. I am your Core, to do with as you wish. If you wish for me to leave the ship with you again, I will accommodate you,” he said.
A barely audible sigh left Requiem as Damion moved his fingers through Requiem’s hair.
“I don’t want you to be bored.” Damion continued petting him. “You still not hungry?”
“As long as the capsule remains in my possession, I will never be unoccupied with things to do.” Requiem didn’t notice that he was relaxing more and more and because of that, drifting closer to Damion until he was nearly leaning on him. “I do not require sustenance at this time, thank you.”
“All right.” Damion took his hand away slowly, reluctantly. “Let’s lie down so we can get some rest—or more rest, in your case.”
Requiem’s eyes blinked open, glancing for a moment at Damion’s hand and then up to Damion’s face, and nodded. “As you wish.” Requiem unwrapped the blankets from his body and smoothed them over the bed so that he didn’t have all of them, and then lay back down, close to the wall.
Damion smiled as he pulled off his shirt and boots. Requiem still acted like a child at times, always waiting for his approval. Damion was now getting confused. It would be natural to want to protect his Core. The rest of his feelings were purely pent-up from not having any time with girls lately. He stripped down to his boxers once he was sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself with his previous unwanted desires. As Damion lay down and rolled to his side, he gave Requiem another small smile. He wanted to protect him and that was what was provoking this… need. Nothing else.
Damion tucked the pillow under his head, then opened his arms. “Come here, I’ll keep you warm.”
Requiem hesitated for a moment before obeying, sliding under the blankets and into Damion’s arms while facing him. He was smaller than Damion, and it was easy for him to curl up into Damion’s hold, resting face to chest as an arm around his neck helped keep him close.
“Are you positive that you are comfortable? I would not want to be an inconvenience to your sleeping pattern.”
“Stop asking if it’s all right so often,” Damion chided in a low voice. “If you’re doing something I don’t like, I will tell you. We’re both comfortable and warm. Now just relax. We’ll be on leave before you know it.”
Requiem nodded silently, arms curled against his chest, and relaxed further against Damion. Damion was happy that Requiem felt safe in his arms. He watched Requiem carefully until he drifted off to sleep.