Tom slipped into a health clinic before meeting up with the group at the I'na Outreach in Lincoln. He'd arrived early enough to be prepared to wait an hour or so to be seen by the doctor. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he knew how clinics worked when people just showed up.
"Mr. Raddoc?" a nurse called.
"Oh." Tom coughed a few times, trying his best to sell it. "That's me."
He went about the motions with the nurse, getting weighed and reading off the little script in his head to list off the classic symptoms of a sinus infection that went beyond the over-the-counter medicine. He'd made a promise to Nenen at the Center. He'd get those antibiotics.
When the doctor came him, Tom coughed into his hand, hoping the absurd amount of milk he drank that morning would give it more of a wet sound. He didn't even need try to look sick: a lot of milk made him nauseated.
"Sinus infection, huh?" The doctor nodded before sitting on his stool. "I'm Dr. Burns. Let's chat."
"Yeah, just can't knock it." Tom watched Dr. Burns get his stethoscope. He made Tom do a few breathing exercises and looked into his ears and the back of his throat.
"You don't have much drainage. Maybe it's just hanging on by a thread."
"Oh." Tom's shoulders sank.
"We'll just give you a few antibiotics to push it along." The doctor typed in a note on the holoPC before pressing the enter button with a flourish. Tom really wanted a holoPC. "Script ordered. Hope you feel better."
"Thanks!" Tom smiled to himself. He hopped down from the examination table, ready to cross the street to the pharmacy.
*~*~*
When Tom arrived at the Outreach Center, Parker was already there with sharp sunglasses and a cropped haircut. He looked more spy than FBI.
"You're here out of the goodness of your heart, right?" Parker raised a brow. "Saw Iilo too. Met your friends. Nice friends. Ya'll better not be playing Scooby Doo."
"I'm only here to drop off some medicine," Tom answered sweetly. He raised the bottle of antibiotics for show and strategically hid his name on it with his thumb.
Parker looked at him over his sunglasses. "Normally I'd call your involvement here pretty strange. Get your meds in and get out. Do you wanna be a suspect?"
Tom hadn't thought of it. Except there was literally nothing that could pin him to Xue's disappearance. He'd been with Carlos and Sam during the day and Carlos had stayed the night. He had an ironclad alibi and the knowledge that he was absolutely innocent. His only crime here was passing off antibiotics to someone else. In comparison, he felt he could live with it.
Inside, Tom looked for Nenen. He hoped she hadn't left, or worse, died. Light spilled into the room from giant circular windows. The bookcases glowed, their knowledge ready for any who cared to discover the books on their shelves.
There she was, on a bench in a corner of the room. No I'na were even close to her. Her hands in her lap, clutching a book. She was turning brown, like a fruit that'd been left out in the sun too long. Tom's stomach turned to lead. He hoped he wasn't too late.
"Hello," he said. "Nice to see you again, Nenen."
She looked up, at first her aged eyes didn't show any sign of recognition. Then her skin warmed, turning to a deep blue, the spackling across her face shimmering, just slowly. "I was beginning to think you'd never come back. Funny that—we lose hope and hope finds us."
Tom sat down beside her. He pulled out the medicine. "These are antibiotics. To be fair, we don't really know what'll help or hurt I'na, but I made a promise. I'd like to keep it."
"Antibiotics are harmless. Or so I've heard." She took one of the pills and swallowed it dry. "If I die, oh well. I'm nearing two hundred anyway."
Tom cringed. He hoped he hadn't just doomed her to bleeding out her eyes or something equally terrifying. The old movie Alien popped into his mind, that little creature bursting from Kane's chest. Antibiotics wouldn't do that, but that didn't stop Tom from fearing he'd just doomed Nenen with it.
"If you start feeling sick or anything, you get Sam to call me, yeah? Do you know Sam?"
"Sure do. Reminds me of my own daughters."
Tom smiled. "That's good."
Tom appreciated that Sam was here. When he'd cloistered himself up in his practice, Sam found a way to work through her trauma. She'd gone further than anyone else Tom knew who was part of First Contact. Then Caleb had come back into their lives. Tom wished he could understand what made them flourish with First Contact behind them and what made him and Carlos stay in the past. Carlos wasn't the type to really talk about his feelings. He was always far too concerned with others, but Tom could see the cracks behind the smile. At least Sam was there to help smooth them over. But it wasn't fair to ask her to heal everyone.
"Tells me stories about you. Sam. I knew you long before you came here," Nenen said.
"Good things, I hope." Tom scratched the back of his neck, trying his best to look like he wasn't thinking about every embarrassing story Sam had on him. Sam had a lot of embarrassing stories on him. The hot-tub one was the worst. His face flushed red just thinking about it.
"Enough to know you're a good man." She patted his knee. "Come back in a couple weeks to know I'm better, then you may ask your favor."
"What if it's urgent?"
Nenen smiled, her skin as wrinkly as a crocodile. "Nothing is ever urgent. Now run off."
Tom laughed. For a woman of two-hundred, of course nothing was urgent. She'd led a whole extra life that Tom would never get to have.
That thought got Tom to stop and panic. He clutched his heart, staring at where shadow met sun on the floor. Iilo was young and would live longer. They'd just shared their first kisses. Good kisses, the kind that lit Tom's whole body up and made him remember why life's worth living. Iilo had to be aware of his longevity, yet he still accepted Tom into his life. But that didn't make the pain in Tom's heart hurt any less. Jealousy mixed with fear. Their journey was new, but that didn't stop the seeds from growing. If this worked and they stayed together, what kind of life would Iilo have? Would he even want it?
Tom went back outside, looking along the street for his friends. He rubbed his hands together, the weather chilly but not unbearably so. His dark thoughts kept him cold. The world was cooling, a rusty aura bathing the street signs and sunsets.
He saw Iilo, Sam, and Carlos. Iilo's smile wide. That smile made Tom's heart flutter.
"You're here!" Sam pulled Tom into a hug. "How you feeling?"
"Good. A lot better from the other night."
"Hey, Amigocho." Carlos patted him on the back. "We were wondering if you bailed on us, man."
"Oh, no! I just had an errand to run first." Tom pat his pocket, proud that he was doing something on his own for Iilo. He just hoped it paid off. Though if nothing else, saving a woman who bureaucracy abandoned wasn't such a bad result either. But the way she'd offered a favor, it was like she was begging Tom to involve her in the missing I'na investigation. He should've reported that to Parker, but then again it could've been nothing. Tom had to wait and find out.
They all jumped when a car horn blasted through the street. A familiar shiny white car pulled up and had Tom cringing. When student loans crushed his soul every month, it was hard to look at that car and not think of all the ways he'd have it easier if his loans weren't breaking him.
Caleb parked right in front of the Center. Tom quirked a brow, wondering which military personnel would eventually tell him he needed to move. He looked around, waiting for someone to say something. No one did. Not even Sam. Tom didn't want to dislike Caleb; he'd been nothing but kind since they'd reconnected. But that didn't matter when Tom's head screamed jealousy. Rolex watches and shiny cars—what let Caleb move on that kept Tom back in First Contact? Did guilt not eat at Caleb the way it devoured Tom?
"Fancy seeing you all here," Caleb said, getting out of the car. "I came down here to donate some clothes. Wanna help get these out of the trunk?"
"Sure, man." Sam was the first to move.
"All this for the I'na here?" Iilo asked, eyes wide.
"Yeah! I get a lot of clothes and like to change them out each season. Since some at the Center don't feel comfortable leaving, I just wanted to find another way to make them comfy." Tom couldn't decide if what Caleb was doing was kind or showy. Tom donated clothes when he could, but it wasn't very often. It was like the millionaires who claimed they were charitable but used their wealth for more than lavish cars and only some donations here and there. But a good deed was a good deed. Tom didn't like feeling intimidated by Caleb. He'd been this man's commander once. But here he was, a rock in his stomach and a ringing in his ears.
Caleb was rich, powerful, and carefree. Tom was a nervous wreck. If Iilo wanted to, he could drop Tom and Caleb would be there to sweep him off his feet.
Tom stepped closer to Iilo. Iilo threaded his fingers with Tom's. He thought back on the first time Iilo held his hand. Where there had been panic then, now there was only comfort now. Uncertainy had been washed away with their private confessions. They knew what they wanted and they didn't mind who else knew. A tiny cheer played in Tom's head. Small victories were big to the people involved, even if no one knew but him.
"Quit flirting and get over here, Tommy-boy!" Caleb laughed. "Need those big ol' arms for this."
Tom walked behind the car, holding out his hands and unceremoniously received a large garbage bag of clothes. "Ompf!"
"Sorry, it's heavy. I crammed a whole bunch of shit in here. Here Iilo." He handed Iilo a smaller bag.
"I can carry twice my weight. You know this…" Iilo bristled, face pinking up.
"I'll never forget it." He winked at Iilo before turning to Tom. "Picked me up once just to prove he could."
"You didn't believe me," Iilo said, smug.
They were friends? Tom carried off his bag of clothes. He was new in his relationship with Iilo, which meant he had nothing but the promise of tomorrow to go on. There was history between Caleb and Iilo. What made Tom better than Caleb when Caleb was better objectively? Tom cringed. The thought of losing Iilo so soon, after everything they'd done so far, made Tom's palms sweaty.
"Iilo, if you want, you can totally look through this and pick out the good stuff." Caleb nudged Iilo in the ribs, that carefree smile on his face. Caleb invaded other people's space like they'd welcomed him in. He moved more like a movie star than a veteran. Nothing about his pressed clothes, slicked-backed hair or dazzling white smile said he'd served in war.
The war took things from people. It didn't give anything new. Caleb always had an easy smile, but then he went to war and he cried in fear like the rest of them. But somehow he'd managed to keep that smile when Tom couldn't.
Tom could feel his cheeks reddening.
"I'm fine." But then Iilo's eyes widened. "Wait! Yeah, actually yeah." He opened one of the bags and pulled out a few shirts, holding them up for size.
"That's your color, blue looks great with orange. And it brings out your eyes." Caleb pulled out a few other shirts, piling them into Iilo's arms. "These should work too. Just take 'em here if you don't like them. I just think the colors suit you."
"Yeah?" Iilo blushed purple.
Tom frowned, watching Caleb flirt with Iilo. Or maybe he really was just being kind. Tom had never known Caleb to be anything but kind. But the way he behaved now, it was like he was claiming Iilo as his own.
"Easy lover boy," Carlos whispered. "They've got history, doesn't mean Iilo's gonna drop you."
Tom thought on their blood pact and the way Iilo's eyes shimmered with tears. Something like that wasn't bought with secondhand clothing, even if the clothing was all brand name.
"Generous, man!" Sam clapped Caleb on the back, a wide smile on her face. "Think you could pull some more strings? Better food, more beds, maybe?"
"Whatever they don't have, let me know. BrightStart likes sponsoring the I'na. I'm sure the company would help out."
"Medicine," Tom said. "They need medicine."
Caleb scratched at his nose, shifting on his feet like hot coals burned beneath them. "That's one I don't have connections to. Big Pharma kinda doesn't like my work."
"Huh." Sam dropped another bag near the community center. I'na police and other military personnel came through the doors to pull the bags inside. "You'd think they'd want to rub elbows with energy sources and stuff."
"The killing people part kinda puts them off." Caleb laughed at his own joke.
Tom was pleased no one else laughed. Killing people wasn't a laughing matter. When Tom had taken his first life, even before First Contct, he'd ended up puking and crying once he got back to his bunk at base. Didn't matter how much training he'd had. No one could teach what it felt like to watch the light leave someone's eyes.
"We should all get some food. I'm starvin'." Caleb grabbed his stomach, meeting everyone's eye. "I'll buy again. Whatever."
"We've got more inside," Carlos said. "Iilo's sister and her boyfriend."
"Oh! Bring them! I'd love to meet them."
It'd always been Tom's experience that either people loved Caleb or hated him. There never seemed to be middle ground. His personality was magnetizing in a way that a train wreck was magnetizing. People found him charming and giving, or condescending and aloof. He'd always liked him before. But now something felt different. There was a disconnect. Caleb had moved on. Tom was only beginning to. That piece of jealousy wedged itself deep in Tom's heart.
*~*~*
Tom managed to excuse himself from dinner, faking a phone call with a client. Truth be told, he just needed away from Caleb's flaunting of wealth. Caleb didn't have to worry about Tom's student debt and mountain of interest. Tom wasn't even sure Caleb had gone to school after serving. He must have, because he couldn't have just landed a cushy job on his good looks alone.
Caleb was good-looking, rich, and worst of all, he seemed painfully nice. He'd helped Tom come back after being triggered, he dropped clothing off at the shelter, and even let Iilo take some. He'd always been a good guy back in the army, but Tom was his superior in rank. Somewhere along the way, Tom had turned left where Caleb turned right.
"Hey, man."
Tom turned to see none other than the man he was lamenting over.
"You good?" Caleb asked.
Tom tried to smile, but his lips betrayed him. They fell into a line, his eyes downcast. Shame pressed into his shoulders, piling higher and higher as Caleb got closer. He wanted to run away. It wasn't luck that had put Caleb where he was. He'd worked, same as Tom. Life took them to different paths, but when had life ever been fair to people? Babies died; I'na got kidnapped. Who was life ever fair to? Caleb, maybe.
"I'm just tired. We've had a long day."
"Yeah, I feel that. The FBI and all that can't help, right?"
Tom shrugged a shoulder. "It's out of my hands. I'm just here to make sure Iilo doesn't get kidnapped or sacrificed by his own people." He laughed at his own statement, but it was an empty sound. Tom did worry someone would eventually see Iilo's dedication as a nuisance. Mobs were powerful things. If the right person got pissed enough at Iilo, Tom wasn't sure how much he really could do to keep Iilo safe. Nothing short of taking Iilo away from his settlement anyway.
Iilo and the I'na kidnappings were Tom's. It was foolish, claiming a people that didn't exactly consent to the idea, but Iilo—maybe somewhat had? Tom still wasn't sure. To know that Iilo had been there at First Contact. To know that they'd seen each other out in those dark trees. Their strings ran tight around each other, knot upon knot until it was impossible for their lives to leave each other. Maybe the pull to Seward had been Iilo all along, and Tom didn't even know it.
"Hey, you sure you're okay? You—you gonna cry?"
"What?" Tom's eyes widened. He reached up and touched wetness on his face. He blinked furiously, turning from Caleb. He wanted the world to open up and swallow him. Everything was writhing inside him, and he just needed a moment alone to get it under control.
"It's okay." Caleb put a hand on his shoulder. "I've been there too. It's okay to cry. It can't be easy, working with I'na after what we saw."
Tom met Caleb's eyes, stunned. Words flowed into his mouth too quick, a rush like the ocean. He gurgled unintelligently but couldn't bring himself to piece it all together.
Caleb smiled. "Yeah, I get it. And if you need to talk to someone, I'm here. I know I'm—well, I know I can come on a little strong. My therapist tells me not to get too involved in other people's business, but truthfully? Helpin' 'em makes me forget my own shit."
"Me too." A lump lodged in Tom's throat. He blinked tears out of his eyes. Tom didn't want to dislike Caleb, and here was the reason why. There was honesty from Caleb, attentiveness and compassion. Tom felt foolish for letting his insecurities cloud his mind. "That's why I came here. Seward, I mean. Small town—lotta drama."
"I get it. I'm here 'cause of work, but it's only temporary. I'll actually be leaving in a week." Caleb scatched at the back of his neck, grimacing. "Which really sucks. I just found you all again. It's been really nice."
"Sam's here on circumstance too. Just because you aren't here doesn't mean we can't talk? Can I call you more?"
Caleb had a life outside of Seward. He didn't need Seward to pull him in too.
"Dude, hell yeah." Caleb smiled wide, mask back on. It didn't alarm Tom as much as it had before. He understood its purpose now. The smile hid the sadness. The flippant behavior hid the anger. Tom knew it all too well. "Call me whenever, okay? The worst about it is goin' through it alone. So call me."
"Thanks..." Tom let the word trail off. He stared after Caleb as he went back inside. A new world had just blossomed before Tom. One where his suffering wasn't the only one in the room. Someone else occupied it, floating around.