Roy

 

Eighteen hours later, Doc was handing a syringe to Piper. “This should do it. For now.”

It was the best we could do – me, Dez, Doc and her “science kids” – especially with all the variables working against Hunter.

Protein degradation fighting with muscle regeneration. Low red blood cell count but high muscle hypertrophy. Temporary onset of memory loss and disorientation.

In the end, one thing was clear. Frost had little regard for how Hunter would fare in the end. Rather, she was seemingly fascinated by how far she could push the limits of the inanis-shifter line in a body. I had to wonder if maybe he’d been one of her first experiments.

“How long…?” Piper was gazing at the syringe, her forehead knotted up.

Doc gestured helplessly. “That will slow the damage, but he probably needs extensive gene therapy.” She reached over the table, fumbling for a stack of paper, which one of the girls thankfully then handed her. I hid a smile and shook my head. “Everything we found and suggestions of what could help. I just hope it does.”

“Thank you,” Piper said and vanished out of the room.

Doc sighed and turned, urging her team to leave, to go home, rest and enjoy the next two days off. At the moment, it did seem like the storm had passed.

After, Doc came over and slumped against the wall I was currently holding up. Pushing up her glasses, she shrugged out of her lab coat and shivered. “I am so, so tired,” she muttered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired, even when I was doing my dissertation on epigenetics. And I thought my brain was going to explode from looking at the same damn genome and isolating the phenotypes…”

“We’re both sleeping in tomorrow,” I remarked absently. It was strange to think back on the last day. Eyeing Doc casually, I wondered if she’d noticed how well we’d worked together. In a crisis mode like this, we’d balanced each other well. In a way, I’d enjoyed it, I realized vaguely.

Desmond Devoy was pulling on a coat across the room and raised his hand in farewell. He’d been invaluable, even if he wasn’t a chemist. Nor was he half bad as a guy. I kind of liked him.

“Bye Dez!” Kesari yelled. “See you soon – you gonna be in San Fran?” He nodded and laughed at her volume, giving me a sympathetic look. He’d been joking with me earlier about how I might have actually been the best boyfriend Kesari could ask for. Quiet.

Too bad it’s fake. I suddenly thought and then shook my head. Damn, I was tired.

Then I rubbed my chest, still a bit embarrassed about that roar of jealousy upon seeing Kesari – Doc – hug Devoy this morning. I didn’t get jealous. Had to be exhaustion or something.

At that moment, Doc’s head fell onto my shoulder and I jumped, glancing down.

Begging, beguiling eyes met mine. “What are the chances you’ll carry me again?”

“Again?” I asked, torn between staying and moving away. “What are you talking about?”

Yawning and stretching, Doc said, “Last night. Or… When was that?” She rubbed her forehead and stared at her hands. “What day is it? Anyways, I fell asleep and you carried me. It was nice. No walking.” A wide, almost drunken smile was on her face. “Come on, I’m light.”

Heat was creeping up my neck and I now took a step back. “You were asleep.” My heart was racing. I never would’ve carried her if I’d known she was awake. Or would I?

Doc slid down to the floor and smiled up at me, now completely out of it. I could tell she’d snapped. I was about ready to snap. “Give me a minute, then,” she demanded.

“Doc,” I said, squatting down and eyeing her. “You can walk, now come on.”

Her eyes were closed and her head tipped back against the wall. “I’m so tired. I swear, I think the floor is moving. I hope that serum works.” Her eyes blinked open. “Do you think it will work? Did we give Piper the paperwork?”

“Yeah, we gave Piper the paperwork,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. Reaching out, I touched her shoulder gently and then frowned. “Kesari, you’re freezing.”

“I haven’t been warm since we got to these stupid mountains,” she muttered, eyes fluttering shut again. “My nose is cold, my hands are cold and my feet are about to fall off. Get in line.”

“Get in line?” I asked, smiling a little as I slid my hand down to her elbow and helped her to her feet. She swayed, yawning and I hesitated, then took off my hoodie, which was thickly lined.

“Line to be cold, Roy,” Doc said, letting her head fall into her hand. “I think. Can’t think. So sleepy.”

“Put this on,” I said, draping it around her. Doc raised her head and her face became bemused as I helped her put it on completely.

“Oh, it’s warm,” she murmured, snuggling into it and pulling the lapel up to her cheek. A dreamy smile spread across her face. “Thank you. You’re a good bodyguard. Let me write you a tip.”

“Oh, boy,” I muttered, steering Doc out of the lab and into the hall. A few people gave us nods and smiles as we walked by. “We’ll be home soon. And I’ll make you a fire, okay?”

“Roy!” she said loudly and stopped. Several people did as well.

“Doc, what is it?” I hissed, trying to look reassuring as she turned around and people gawked. “Also, maybe keep your voice down, please,” I said between my teeth.

“That is too nice!” Doc burst out, sounding blitzed. “Don’t be so nice, you’re gonna trick me.”

“Is she drunk?” Finni asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“Basically. She’s sleep-deprived and slowly losing it,” I said in a low voice.

“Finni, I’m not drunk, how rude,” Doc said, poking him in the shoulder.

“Lost it, you mean. Alright, let’s get a car,” Finni said, swinging back around and I led Doc, an arm loosely around her shoulders. He glanced back and raised an eyebrow. "That your jacket, boss?”

“Yes,” Doc said before I could answer. “I was colder than a snowman and Roy was very nice.”

“Boss with the gallant streak he always tries to hide. Weslarks are all the same – knights in shining armor – so, don’t let the Zima scowl fool ya, Kesari,” Finni joked.

“Are you wearing armor?” Doc asked me. “No wonder why you’re so stiff.”

Finni and I both laughed. “No, Doc. Sh, just focus on walking,” I said my arm tightening.

“Ugh, I hate walking,” she said, eyes falling shut. “I keep seeing equations and the phenotyping of shifter DNA sequencing, but the trait was inherited… Or was it not? It was a mutation, a forced mutation, like a prion that attacks and inserts its own sequence into a similar protein, but its folded wrong and then it copies, destroying the…” Doc slowed down and my arm tightened more to hold her up. “That’s why it didn’t make sense when we were looking at it – it wasn’t made of nucleic acids, it was a prion. Intelligent proteins refolding structures.”

“Should we sedate her? Finni asked. “What the hell is she going on about?”

“We should probably tell Piper,” Doc said tiredly.

“Is the serum okay in light of that?” I asked. I’d grasped part of what Doc was talking about, but I also wasn’t sure she was right.

“I think so,” she said. “It won’t hurt, but maybe it won’t help. If it does, it’s acting like a virus. If it doesn’t, it’s acting like a prion.” She paused and her eyes became bright. “If it’s the latter, then I don’t know if it can be reversed – that’s a new field of study, like brand-brand new.”

“Hey,” I said as Doc put a hand over her face. “You did everything you could.”

“I could have done more. If only we had more time…” She said brokenly. “J'aurais dû faire plus.”

I glanced at Finni and he mouthed I should have done more.

Frowning, I leaned down and swung Kesari up into my arms. Tucking her against me, I said sternly, “No, you couldn’t have. And now you need sleep and rest, along with time to recuperate. It’s been a long and hard day for all of us, but you especially. You did everything you could’ve, Kesari. I was there. I know you did. Finni wasn’t there and he knows you did, too. Right, Finni?”

“Oh what–yeah,” he said hastily, staring at me and blinking. “Time to rest, Doc. You earned it.”

Kesari didn’t answer, only sniffled and I jerked my head towards the doors. We started walking again, Finni being far too quiet and I knew I should have cared. He would tell everyone about this and I’d never hear the end of it. I could already see his mind whirling to come up with joke after joke.

But I didn’t care about that. My only focus was on Kesari.

 

By the time I got Kesari into bed, she’d been babbling in French, German and Hindi.

After that, it was a blur. I’d showered, slept in my own bed and then woken up, heading to the couch to get some work done. But when I woke up with the laptop on my chest, I set it to the side and slowly sat up. I had no idea what time it was or the last time I’d eaten. These last few days of going with little to no sleep had wreaked havoc on me.

While I could push myself to stay awake as any agent could, part of being a Runner meant that I could usually get a full nine hours every night. Maybe not like clockwork with the shifting time zones, but at least a decent rest.

I could have been in Kazakhstan, I thought. Getting my nine hours.

But the thought was less intense than before. Almost perfunctory. Like I was making myself think that, when in reality…

Hell, I didn’t know anymore, but I’d been thinking about Kazakhstan less and less. About going back to being a Runner less and less.

Getting up, I saw it was seven a.m. and I began to make coffee. It was slow and I kept forgetting basic things, like the mug and the beans. Eventually, I had a mug and went back to the couch. Setting it down next to the computer, I laid back and closed my eyes. Just for a second.

 

Sunlight hit my face and I winced, trying to twist around and get the blanket up higher. Then I stopped, blinking as I sat up. Where had this blanket come from?

Kesari was sitting at the end of the couch, her wet hair up in a bun and wearing my hoodie over pink pajamas. Flipping a page, she remarked, “You need to stop falling asleep out here.”

“What time is it?” I asked and groaned at the stiffness in my back. Damn couch.

“Neck sore?” she asked pointedly. “Or is it your back? Stop sleeping on the damn couch, Roy! And it’s somewhere around 11, I think.”

“Any word from Piper? The Cantina? Finni? Seng?” I asked, wishing my head didn’t feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. I actually felt hungover.

“No, no, no and no. It’s quiet and we’re taking advantage of it,” Kesari said.

A laugh escaped me. “Oh, I see, boss.” Feeling around for my phone, I frowned.

“Looking for this?” she asked, spinning my phone in one hand and still reading. “I already sent a message telling everyone to take it easy and for Obi to handle the guard shift as he saw fit. He got a full night’s sleep and agreed a little too cheerfully.” I stared at her as she looked over at me. “I still feel a little out of it. Was I speaking French last night?”

“Phone,” I ordered, holding out my hand.

Kesari lightly slapped my palm with her fingers and then stashed the phone in the hoodie pocket. “No. But it was cute you thought that would work.”

“Give me my hoodie back too while you’re at it,” I said, standing up and looking down at her.

Tossing her head, she went back to reading. “Fresh coffee in the kitchen.”

“Kesari!” I said, half-growling, half-laughing. “You’re the one being cute. Phone. Hoodie.”

Pulling it up to her chin, she gave me a pleading gaze and I felt my resolve crumble into dust before she even spoke. “Aw please, a little while longer? It’s so warm.”

“I’m getting us coffee and you’re giving me back my phone,” I said, going into the kitchen.

“Do you feel hungover?” was her response. “I feel hungover and I haven’t drunk in days. God, I would love a nice prosecco or a red. I love wine, but not in the snotty and gross spitty way, I just like a good glass after dinner, you know? And this is California. Next stop, vineyards.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked. My eyes were drifting back shut again already.

“Yup, I got it all planned out,” Kesari said, hopping up and walking over. She stretched hugely, the hoodie sleeves flopping over her hands and she picked up a muffin. “You like wine?”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever drunk,” I said.

“Mm, ignoring that,” she said, popping a piece of muffin into her mouth and then offering me a piece, which I slowly took. “You’re half-Russian, right? Is it really all about vodka? Doesn’t that get old fast?”

“It’s quick and does the trick,” I responded. “But I’m not a huge fan.”

I was turning back to the coffee when it happened, my elbow hit a bowl on the counter and it went spinning off. On instinct, I tried to catch it, but I was too slow or fast or something. Instead, I somehow shattered it against the drawers and pulled back with a shard poking out from my hand. Blood ran down over it as I stared in amazement.

"What is wrong with me?" I asked, going to yank it out when a hand stopped me.

“Do not do that,” Kesari ordered in a steely voice with a flash of her eyes. “Come with me.”

Bewildered, I let her drag me into the bathroom and hold my hand over the sink. She vanished for a moment, yelling, “Don’t you dare touch it, I will kill you,” and then reappeared with a huge box of medical supplies. Fishing out a pair of tweezers, a cloth and antiseptic, she examined the wound.

“Should I leave it in my hand?” I asked sarcastically. The piece was about an inch long and wide, with most of it currently buried in the swell of my thumb pad.

“Shush, Roy,” Kesari muttered, taking the tweezers and carefully pulling it out. Then, to my surprise, she held my hand over the sink and squeezed, so more blood came out. “To get out the shards. This is porcelain, lots of shards.”

Carefully, she rinsed it and my hand began to both throb and burn. Blood was still gushing from the wound, which was too deep to wrap. I needed a healer.

“Dammit, I do not want to go to the Cantina to see Alvie,” I muttered.

Kesari pulled out a needle and thread. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “He's not at the Cantina. Alvie is at least a forty-minute drive. Or more. I can do it. I’m good at it, too.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” I asked without thinking.

As I held my breath, Kesari shrugged. “Can’t think of anything off the top of my head.” I laughed at that and she smiled up at me. “Let me just get another cloth and some ice.”

I watched her go, then looked back at myself in the mirror. The smile slid off my face as I asked myself, what the hell are you doing, you fool?

“Got it,” Kesari said, breathless. “Here sit.”

Sitting on the wide lip of the edge of the tub, I watched her work, calm and careful. She laid out everything, cleaning it and dabbing it. Her fingers were gentle but precise. Then I felt the familiar tug of healing, but she was going slow and steady like I was a child. It was the most elegant and surefire way to heal a wound, but it took much longer.

“Hey!” I exclaimed as the area around my hand began to numb. "You can just patch me up. Don't waste your time going slow – I will heal in a day or so anyway.”

“Mm, sorry tough guy, it’s a little too late,” she said, adjusting her glasses and grinning. “Besides, I knew you would say that and while I doubt you would flinch, if you did, I could make a mistake and I don’t like making mistakes, so here we are.”

“You are good,” I said begrudgingly. “Calm as hell, too. It is impressive.”

Cupping my hand with her left, she wrapped her fingers as tightly as she could around my fingers, but my hand dwarfed hers. She continued to steadily heal with the right.

“I’m weird like that,” Kesari said, almost to herself. “Hyper except when there’s an emergency.”

I didn’t want to say anything to throw off her concentration, but I couldn’t help watching her face as she did the “shifter-suture.” Serious and determined, her lips set as though a cell out of place would be unacceptable. Radiating warmth and compassion.

And I let myself fall, just a little.

“Done,” she said, looking up and blinking in surprise.

I leaned in and drew back, pretending to study my hand. A pink patch of shiny skin was around a small line of red and I flexed my hand easily.

“Thank you, Kesari,” I said, as she bandaged it. She was so thorough.

“Alright, well you go rest and I’ll clean up,” she said, bustling out of the bathroom.

Letting my fingers drift around the wound and down to my wrist, I paused. My pulse was rapid-fire and my breathing was shallow. Pain and healing, that’s all.

“Roy, you okay?” Kesari asked from the door and I looked up. My pulse spiked higher.

Nodding, I gave her a half-smile and kept my posture casual as I got to my feet. “Of course.”