Blaedergil's Host by C.M. Simpson (reading well .TXT) 📕

stand down—especially when I wanted to shoot some asshole who thoroughly deserved it.

“Stand down, Cutter. We’ve got you.”

We’ve got you. Tens said that. Part of me recognized the phrase, and started to relax. Tens only said that when he’d hauled me out of the shit.

“We’ve got you,” Tens said, moving towards me.

I backed up a step, and he stopped at the edge of the platform, stretching out a hand to stop Mack moving forward.

“You’re safe.”

Safe. I stood still, finally registering the very concerned looks on the very concerned faces of the people standing at the edge of the dais. Oh. Safe. I stared at them a moment longer, and realized I didn’t want to run from them—not right now, and maybe not for a long time. Right now, I needed to stop running, if only for a little bit.

“Mack,” I said, and Tens snorted, but he kept his hand on Mack’s chest.

Even though they hadn’t said a word, I couldn’t bring myself to move toward them. Instead, I just let my knees buckle, and lowered myself to the top of the platform with my hands resting on my thighs.

“Okay,” Tens said, and I looked up in time to see him drop his hand away from Mack’s chest, and turn back to the console. “Case. Get us out of here.”

The ship shuddered beneath us, and I wondered where we were going, but it didn’t seem important, as Mack slid to his knees beside me, and pulled me into his arms, and then his lap. This time, I let him, taking comfort from the warmth of his chest and strength of his arms, as he pulled me tight against himself, neither of us speaking a word.

“I should wring your bloody neck,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of my head.

It made me laugh.

“You’ll need to join the queue. I pissed off a lot of people, today.”

“Yeah, but I was one of the first.”

This was true.

“And you left me behind,” I told him, “on an arach ship. I should punch you for that.”

I felt him rear back a little, and knew he was looking down at me, could picture the surprise on his face.

“After going through all that, you want to go three rounds?” he asked.

“No,” I said, and felt him sigh in relief, and bend back around me.

I took a deep breath, and then several more, as though sniffing the air, and then I sniffed at my shirt.

“No,” I repeated. “What I really want is some serious san time, and some fresh clothes. Honestly, how do you stand being this close to me? I stink!”

I heard him sniff, and then he eased me out of his lap and set me down on the floor.

“You’re right. You do stink,” and he stood up and made a show of brushing himself off. “And, now I stink. That is the last time I give you a hug when you need it. Next time, I’m going to make you get changed, first.”

Well, there was only one answer to that.

I stood up, and took a step towards him, making him take a wary step back. Normally, this is where I would have slugged him, as hard as I could, but, today, I just...couldn’t. I really did want some time alone in the san. I curled my lip and moved towards the door, threading my way between the control consoles for the teleportation unit, and studiously not looking at either Delight or Tens. Doc intercepted me on the other side.

“I need—”

“And I need some san time and some food,” I snapped, and he took a step back, “unless there’s something serious you need to check me for?”

He took another step back, raising both hands as though surrendering.

“Fine, but you come and see me once you’ve eaten.”

I reached the door and stopped.

“Fine, Doc. After I’ve eaten.”

I turned to go, but Mack’s voice stopped me.

“Cutter!”

This time I turned and glared at him.

“We’re debriefing over supper.”

I flicked a hand at him, and pivoted back to the door.

“What the Hell ever!” I said, trying for irritating, as I stepped out into the corridor beyond.

This time, no-one called me back, and I made it to my cabin and into the privacy of the san unit, before the aftershock hit—and it hit like a ton. I curled up in a ball under the water, and I cried. I refused to think about what Bio were going to say regarding the use of resources. I just bawled, using the sound of the shower to hide the sound, and the water itself, to wash away my tears.

And, when I was done with that, I stood up and scrubbed myself close to raw, washing away the scent and feel of spider from my skin, and making sure not the slightest piece of blood, or brain, or whatever else remained on me. Yesterday hadn’t been the first day I’d killed, but it had been the first time it had been quite so many and quite so up-close and personal.

33—Know Thine Enemy

I’m not sure how long I stayed under the water, crouched on the floor, watching it swirl down the drain on its way to recycling. I’m not sure how long I would have continued to crouch there, either, if Mack hadn’t opened up the san-unit door, reached in, and turned the water off.

“Bio is having a fit,” he said, as I glared up at him, “I’m getting hungry, and the cooks are getting grouchy.”

Which meant they had cooked something special, and I’d better go eat it. Mack stretched out his hand, and I took it, and let him help me to my feet. Once I was standing, he stepped out of the san unit, leaving me to work out that I’d forgotten to lay out a set of clothes when I’d come in. I stood there, contemplating that, while I dried myself off, and then wrapped the towel around my body.

Mack opened the door, just as I reached for the handle.

“Clothes,” he said, passing me the bundle