An hour earlier, Fiearius had been in the Beacon’s infirmary, leaning against the counter and nervously tapping his fingers against its surface. Despite Daelen’s instructions, he refused to go anywhere near the infirmary beds. He’d lived in one for nearly a month and he had no desire to repeat that, even if that meant irritating the good doctor.

After they’d returned from their stay at the hotel, he’d dropped Leta off at breakfast with Corra. Corra had been more than happy to take her off his hands and Leta, in much better spirits today, seemed glad to be in the company of her friend as Fiearius attended to an important meeting he couldn’t get out of. He’d failed to mention who the meeting was with and where.

But that didn’t make him less nervous about being caught. “Can we hurry this up by any chance?” he muttered as Daelen stood at the console, tapping away like nothing was wrong, the bastard.

“Afraid not,” said Daelen simply. “It takes what it takes.”

Fiearius groaned and pushed himself from the counter, taking to pacing around the room. “I thought you already did the blood test thing. Why do you have to do it again anyway?”

“I need to monitor any changes.” He glanced back at him. “You haven’t been using, correct?”

“No of course not,” Fiearius growled, rolling his eyes. “Not since you gave me those meds.”

“So you think they’re working then?”

Fiearius hesitated. Sure, they’d worked for three days. But he could do three days on his own, that part was easy. Even with the meds, would he still be alright when the fever started? Or the vomiting? Somehow he doubted it, but nonetheless he muttered a flippant, “Yeah, probably.”

“That’s great,” Daelen said cheerfully, but with a certain tone that made Fiearius think he knew he was lying. “Though it will still be a lot easier if you can tell me exactly what you were taking.”

It was probably the tenth time he’d asked and yet still Fiearius couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Something about saying the word out loud, about telling this doctor, made it seem so…final. It felt like leaping off the edge of a cliff. So yet again, he deflected. “Can’t you just figure it out? With science or whatever?”

“I have theories,” Daelen replied, undeterred as ever, even as he cast Fiearius a pointed sideways glance. “But facts are a lot more useful.” Fiearius met his stare head on before scoffing indignantly and needing to look away.

Just then, the console Daelen was working on made a ding. “Ah, there we go,” he chimed as Fiearius slowly drifted towards him to hover behind his shoulder. On the screen was a chart, but it meant very little to him. Numbers and letters he didn’t recognize, an array of illegible information. Daelen easily scrolled through it, making a few thoughtful ‘hm’s’ as he went along.

Finally, Fiearius couldn’t take it anymore. “Well?” he demanded.

“Well.” Daelen turned to face him. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Which would you like first?”

It was a question Fiearius never found comforting. “Bad, I guess.”

Daelen began to pace a slow circle around him. “The bad news is that your blood levels haven’t changed as much as I was hoping they would and your vitals are starting to weaken. You’re in the beginning stages of withdrawal and the medication you’ve been taking seems to be having no effect.”

Fiearius stared at him, feeling suddenly numb. “No effect? At all?”

“I’m afraid not. Whatever dependency you’ve developed, it’s stronger than the medication to battle it. We could keep trying it, but I doubt it’ll be effective.”

“So…what does that mean?”

“Well that’s the good news,” Daelen went on. “You’re not my first addiction patient and you definitely won’t be the first that I’ve helped through withdrawals. The Beacon is well-stocked with painkillers and fever reducers and I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way to make the detox process as painless as possible.” He smiled what he must have thought was an encouraging smile and laid his hand on Fiearius’ shoulder. “We can get through this.”

This. Get through Flush withdrawals. The thought made a shiver run down Fiearius’ spine. He couldn’t remember the brunt of them from the first time around — he’d been completely delirious. For a week. But he could remember the time going in and coming out of that week and he would take getting beaten, shot, electrocuted and partially set on fire over going through that again. And here was Daelen telling him he could ‘get through this’.

Of course, this had always been the plan, hadn’t it? He had been trying to get off this shit for a while now, of course, he’d known, eventually it would come to this. But up until now, it had never felt very real before. He’d never made it past the first few days before he’d given up. The horror of it had stayed safely at a distance. But now he could feel it staring him right in the face and he was unable to look away.

Daelen, however, had already moved on. “Now, by my estimates based on these readings, we have a couple of days before your symptoms amplify. In that time, we’ll work together to map out a plan. You’re likely going to be bedridden for some time and it’s essential that I’m with you through the process so we’ll have to discuss ship arrangements of course.”

Ship arrangements? Gods, what the hell was he getting into? Thoughtlessly, he took a few steps back and sank onto the edge of the infirmary bed. Suddenly, recovery seemed huge and overwhelming, like he stood at the base of a mountain.

He couldn’t do this. What was Daelen talking about? He couldn’t do this, but Daelen just kept going on.

“–and I’ll also need to know in advance any allergies you might have. If you’ve taken anything else recently? If you can give me a sample of the drug, I should be able to create a more comprehensive treatment. We should also discuss with Leta if she’d be willing to–”

That was where Fiearius tuned out. Leta. He could already imagine her face, horrified, when she found out. And she would find out. She would see. She would know.

“I can’t,” he said suddenly, standing up and shaking his head. Daelen stopped mid-sentence and stared. “I can’t do this. I can’t go through the withdrawals. Everyone will know.”

Daelen regarded him with calm, polite interest. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Yes, I’m afraid there’s little chance this can be conducted in secrecy.”

Fiearius just continued to shake his head, pacing the room furiously. “I can’t do it. I won’t do it. She can’t find out.”

Hours later, long after they’d checked into their hotel room and gone to sleep, Fiearius cracked open his eyes and half-scowled in confusion. The room was shadowy and dim, but he felt immediately that the space beside him in bed was empty. In fact, he realized as he scanned the room, the whole room was empty. Leta was missing.

With a jolt of panic, Fiearius sat up. In one motion, he threw his hand to the bedside table, grabbed his pistol, and launched to his feet. She was gone. How was it possible? How had he lost her again?

He’d stalked halfway to the door when he heard movement from the bathroom. Heart hammering, he pivoted to the door and pushed it open. The scene that met his eyes made him halt in place and exhale in relief.

Leta blinked at him curiously from where she was comfortably sunk into a steaming hot bath. Murky soapy water went up her collarbone, and she was leaning back against the porcelain, her long legs angled over the lip of the tub.

“Are you alright?” she asked blankly, sitting up and making the water splash around her. “Fiear, why do you have — ?” She flashed a look at the gun in his hand.

“No reason,” Fiearius grunted, feeling stupid as he quickly placed the pistol to the side on the bathroom counter. He had no intention of telling Leta about his moment of panic, especially when she was perfectly fine and looking more like herself than she had in hours with her cheeks flushed a healthy pink from the steam, her long damp hair loosening from its messy bun. For a moment, he just stood there in the doorway, admiring the beautiful woman bathing in the ridiculously large bathtub. Fiearius wasn’t exactly a fan of baths, but…

“That looks nice,” he remarked thoughtfully. “Mind if I join you?” Without waiting for an answer, he crossed over the floor and started peeling off his clothes.

“No, don’t, you’ll turn the water brown,” Leta protested playfully, but when he lowered himself into the warm water and joined her on the submerged bench, she immediately moved to sit between his legs and sat back against his chest, heaving a long, relaxed sigh. It was the first time she seemed to truly relax since she’d returned from Vescent, Fiearius realized, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“This is better,” she said softly, closing her eyes for a moment as she sank further against him. “Gods, when I was stuck on Vescent, this is all I could think about. Being with you again. And how I thought I might not be able to.”

“But here we are,” said Fiearius. He leaned his mouth against the nape of her neck.

“Here we are,” Leta agreed, and took a deep breath. “Tell me something good, please.”

“Good? Right, okay. Well. Nobody you know has died recently,” he said, and Leta snorted a laugh. “That’s good. From what I hear, the better candidate won the election for Governor in Tarin Proper. I reached level eighty in Spaceship Wars. There’s a meteor shower on Paraven this week, supposedly very rare, once in a century kind of thing. Oh and my brother got a girl to like him, also very rare, once in a century kind of thing.”

Leta’s ringing laugh echoed around the bathroom. “That’s not nice of you.”

“Hey, I have actively encouraged the little bastard to get himself a girlfriend for the past four years.”

“That ‘little bastard’ is your flesh and blood, you know,” Leta said composedly, elbowing him in the ribcage. “And you don’t exactly give him a lot of time and space to take women out whenever he wants … Which isn’t fair,” she added, throwing him a good-naturedly stern look. “You find the time for it.”

“Cyrus has plenty of time to take out women,” Fiearius scoffed. “You think I make him stay down in that engine room all the time? He does that to himself. He prefers doing that. I ask him to come out and experience the real world with me and he says no. Which is why I’ve got good feelings about this cute engineer girl. She lets him stay in his comfort zone and interact with women. It’s perfect.”

“Well it’s not exactly easy to meet people when you’re traveling in the middle of nowhere space.”

“Right. Which is why I prefer to kidnap my prospective lovers.”

Leta laughed. “You had no idea that you and I would end up together.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a teasing grin. “You were into me from the first day we met. Don’t bother denying it, there were so many clues. The yelling, the angry glares, that time you said you’d rather shoot yourself then sleep with me? We were inevitable.”

“Inevitable? Fiear, I was engaged. To be married.”

“Eh.” Fiearius shrugged a shoulder, then dropped it back into the water with a splash. “I knew it’d work out somehow.”

“And while we’re on the subject,” said Leta, a playful lilt in her voice, “it was you who was into me, not vice versa.”

Fiearius grinned. “Well can you blame me?” He leaned over to kiss her neck. “It’s not everyday someone who both pisses me off and fires me up ends up on my ship.”

“You know, I don’t know why you let me aboard at all.” Her voice grew distant with the memory — the vivid memory Fiearius shared. They first met with Fiearius atop the ramp, his arm infected, in the middle of a yelling match with his brother. He’d spared her the shortest glance before muttering fine, she could come.

“No idea,” said Leta. “I still wonder sometimes.”

Fiearius barked a laugh, but then he found himself knitting his brow with thought. He wasn’t actually sure he knew what the real answer was. He’d never liked doctors. He never wanted someone else from a Society planet on his ship. He was wary of strangers. And Leta had been all three when he let her come aboard that fateful night.

“Fever-induced madness?” he offered, but he knew that wasn’t quite it. “But — who cares, yeah? As long as you’re here now, I don’t regret a thing,” he said, leaning in to kiss the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“Funny, isn’t it,” said Leta softly, “how the Dionysian of all places in the Span turned out to be the place I feel most at home.”

“Well she’s happy to have ya,” Fiearius assured her. “For as long as you need.”

“It had to be me, Cy. No one else could’ve made it to Vescent undetected.” Addy hesistated. Then she said, “And besides, all of you are so brave. Leta and Fiearius, standing up for what they believe in. Corra, running her own ship. Seeing them …” A smile wavered past her face. “I guess I wanted to be brave, too. Sometimes it feels like — like I’ve always taken the safe route.”

“Safe route?” Cyrus repeated. “Addy, you fled Satieri, that’s hardly a safe route.”

“I didn’t have a choice in that. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay on Satieri and go to school and work on ships. When my dad told me I had to go, I screamed at him, Cy because it wasn’t what I wanted. I was horribly selfish. I still am.”

“Well, yeah,” Cyrus muttered, unsure. “But still–”

“And maybe you are too,” Addy went on, ignoring him. “Maybe you’ve done some selfish things, we all have. What happened on Vescent, that was bad, but you didn’t just do it for you, you did it for us. For me and for Leta. And you want to talk about selfless acts? Didn’t you go to Satieri to save your brother when he was captured? How is that any different?”

“It’s totally different,” he argued. “I wasn’t alone, for starters. And I–I was afraid of what would happen to me without him.”

Addy scoffed. “That’s not true. I know that’s not true.” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Cyrus, you are brave and courageous and caring and I’ve seen firsthand what you’ll do for those you love. You’ve made some hard choices, we all have. But you are not selfish. And you are not rude. And that Delia woman can shove it.”

Cyrus could do nothing but stare at her in wonder and disbelief. No one had ever told him anything quite like that before. But as passionate and convicted as she sounded, the first thing he was able to utter was, “Okay, but–”

Addy groaned, dropping her hands from his face and slumping her head in defeat.

“No, listen, it’s not that,” Cyrus tried to argue, but she no longer seemed to be listening.

Instead, she was getting out of bed. He sat up too, watching as Addy moved her feet to the floor and stood up, planting her hands on her hips, as he went on, “Addy, look. Those things I did, the good things, they were just–”

Cyrus blinked as Addy abruptly grabbed the bottom hem of her tank top and started to lift it over her head, revealing the bare skin of her stomach and chest. “–well they were–” And then, she tossed the piece of clothing aside. “– they were — “

Cyrus forgot his words entirely as his mouth dropped open. He sat on the edge of her bed, drinking in the sight of her fair naked skin as he choked, “What are you–?”

“Oh, now I have your attention,” she said, smirking with the corner of her mouth. “Cyrus. Listen to me. You are a good person. A kind person. A brave person. Okay?”

Cyrus’ eyes flicked up to her face, with some difficulty. “But–”

“Okay?” she stressed again, and this time he mustered a small, weak nod.

“Good.” Addy grinned. Then she leaned down, placed her palms on his shoulders and kissed him so heatedly that Cyrus forgot that he’d been upset at all. Or that being upset was ever a possibility. What could he ever be upset about, really, when Addy was here, nearly naked, kissing him and now lowering to sit on his lap?

“Wait,” he muttered, but without much conviction. “I thought we were taking it slow?”

“We were,” Addy said softly, hooking her fingers around the collar of his shirt. “But then you nearly got yourself killed. And now I want to take it a little faster.”

Cyrus couldn’t agree more. He didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers, put his hands on her hips and drew her gently to his lap.

————–

In the darkness of Fiearius’ bedroom, Leta stared at the ceiling, wide-awake and alert as if it were the middle of the day. She felt like crawling the walls, but she took to staring at them instead, as Fiearius slept with his arm thrown over her hip. She could feel the slow inhale and exhale of his breath as she twisted her legs around the sheets. She turned to her side, then to her other side, then to her back …

But sleep would not claim her. She couldn’t even keep her eyes closed. Just when she was considering getting up entirely, Fiearius spoke against her neck.

“You alright?” he muttered. His voice was muffled, but he sounded awake. He’d woken her up like this a thousand times before (usually for one reason in particular … )  but this time, he seemed to understand. “Can’t sleep?”

“I don’t know why,” she admitted, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “I should be exhausted.”

But she could not stop her mind from reeling. Images of Vescent kept flashing past her eyes. Fiearius must have sensed her unease, because he sat up on his elbows.

“Well,” he sighed, “we could go for a walk if you’d like? Always helps me. Fresh air does a person good. Or I can make you something to eat? How about a mind-numbing game? Alternatively,” he grinned in the darkness, “plenty of physical activity we could do right here.” He patted the bed with his hand. “Take your pick.”

Leta rolled onto her back and pulled the corners of her lips into a faint, agreeable smirk. The truth was — and she had no desire to share this with Fiearius — that she was a little weary of what would happen if they became intimate already. After what had happened on the dock of the Dionysian when they’d been reunited (she’d actually physically pushed him away, how was that possible?), she was worried being too close would trigger — well, whatever that incident had been. She truly had no idea. And it was only part of the reason why she could not find sleep.

Her smirk thinned from her face, but not out of any sort of displeasure. “Actually – a walk would be nice,” she answered, hoping those words were true, as she sat up and slid her legs toward the edge of the bed. Maybe it would help stem some of her roiling energy. Maybe it would quiet her mind.

She hoped so, at least, as they descended the Dionysian’s open ramp together ten minutes later. Outside, the evening air was pleasantly chilly, and the city lay in silence at this hour of the night.

They began to half-walk, half-wander through the empty cobblestone streets and admire the tall darkened buildings, hand-in-hand. Comfortable silence hung between them, until Leta said, “Maybe — I’m just not used to being back on the Dionysian yet.” It was the first words either of them had spoken in several minutes. “Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. I mean, I was sharing a bed with your brother before, after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” Fiearius snorted.

Leta gave his hand a small, playful swing, trying to brighten her own spirits. “So, are you going to tell me everything I missed while I was gone on my vacation?”

“Vacation?” Fiearius repeated. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“I’m trying to keep things light.”

He shrugged his acceptance. “Not sure I really want to say what you missed. Hardly my proudest moments…Though I will tell you that you missed out on Corra nearly shooting me in the head when she found out Addy was gone.”

“Corra — she — what?” Leta sputtered. “Was she trying to miss?”

“That, or her accuracy’s going bad.” He grimaced. “Hoping it’s the former…” A concerned frown came over him, but he shrugged it off and squeezed her hand tighter. “Anyway, I’m just glad you’re back. Both of you. All three of you.”

They slowed to a stop, pausing on the edge of a dock that overlooked water. The wind picked up, tossing Leta’s hair over her face as she stared at the lapping waves.

“It doesn’t — really feel like I’m back,” she said at last. “It feels like when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll still be trapped in Delia’s apartment.”

She could feel him watching her.

“Vescent is nothing like it was, Fiear,” she went on, turning towards him. “It didn’t feel like home at all. And I saw them execute someone in the street.”

She spoke rather plainly — after all, this was Fiearius, who had seen his fair share of horror and bloodshed. If anyone could handle this mental image, it was him. It was part of why she felt so comfortable with him in the past few hours. That familiar magnetic draw pulled her in, and when he wasn’t at her side, she found herself missing his company, seeking him out.

She could not say the same for the rest of the crew. Amora, Rhys, Finn, even Corra — Leta found every single person to be jarring, noisy.  She felt too jumpy and unnerved to spend more than five minutes with anyone but Fiearius, who seemed to understand that she had been favoring the quiet.

“You’ll feel back to normal soon enough,” he answered easily. “Give it time. The dust will settle.”

Leta rubbed her palms together, a gesture of nerves. Her eyes grew distant as she added, “I don’t know what they did to me, Fiear, but it’s making me feel crazy. Like what I did when I saw you the first time — ” She flashed him a look of apology. “Gods, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, s’okay,” he said at once, taking her hands in his and pulling her closer. “It’s just a reaction, I know that. It’s just hard to tell reality from fiction with that shit…I get it. Trust me, I get it…”

Abruptly, the line of Fiearius’ sight shifted; he was staring at something over her head.

“You know what might help you?” he asked suddenly. “A change of scenery. No cramped ship hallways, no cluttered quarters, someplace actually clean. Something entirely different than what you’re used to. Y’think?”

Leta followed his line of vision and realized he was looking at a tall illuminated building, glowing invitingly. The sign boasted it as a beachfront resort.

“Wait — really? You’re saying we should get a hotel room?” said Leta wondrously. She was certain no one on the Dionysian stayed in hotels. Or even motels. The crew was more likely to pass out on the street curb.

“And how, exactly, do you expect to pay for it?” she demanded. “Or did you pick up an extra job while I was on that vacation?”

“I have my ways. How about it?”

She had to admit there was something terribly tempting about the idea. In a clean hotel room, Vescent wouldn’t exist. There’d be no reminders of the Society.

And so, after stalling on the street for a moment, Leta shrugged one shoulder and turned for the building.

“If this is just an act to seduce me … ” she trailed off warningly.

“Me? Try to seduce you? What in the span are you on about?” He slipped his arm around her waist. “Unless you’d like me to, in which case, yes.”

In the lobby of the hotel, Leta could not contain her amazement as she watched Fiearius speak with the clerk behind the desk. Fiearius scanned a CID, the man handed him a set of keys, and suddenly Leta found herself walking with him down a long, lushly carpeted hallway.

She could not imagine how Fiearius was paying to stay even one night in a place so elegant. But then, when they reached the elevator, the clerk called out, “Have a good night, Mr. Riley,” to which Leta blinked.

“What did he just say?” she hissed as the elevator doors dinged open. “Did he just call you Riley? As in Finnegan Riley? Did you — did you steal Finn’s bank account?”

Fiearius’ grin was wider than the Dionysian.  “You must be hearing things, I’ve no idea what you mean.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –