(no subject)

[nottheboss]

It's late at night. The corridors aren't quiet; they're full of men and women restlessly trying to sleep in their quarters. Bossie should be one of them. But instead he slips barefoot down the hallway to Carver's room, where he knocks.

"Hey, man, you up?"

Comments

[nottheboss]

Bossie, who is hopelessly touch starved, shivers slightly at that light kiss. He strokes Carver's hair, looks him in the eye for a moment, yearning for...for he doesn't even know what.

"Yessir," he says with a little smile. "I'm not gonna let it get cold."

That would insult the chef, wouldn't it? And he won't do that. He's getting special treatment and it is, he has to admit, inflating his ego a little bit.

[fortitudosalutis]

This close, it's impossible to miss that reaction. Carver hums, quiet and fond, and musses Bossie's hair. Just because, he tells himself, but truthfully there's a part of him that wants to get their kittens and some weed and just lie down together. Rest for a few hours and get high out of their minds. That'd be nice.

He returns to the food, though. He has a job to do.

"How're the others doing?" Carver murmurs. "I know you pay attention."

[nottheboss]

Bossie wolfs down his food. He moans, at that first bite. It's just so good; so rarely enjoyed. And Carver made it just for him.

"They're okay. Austin's the only one I worry about right now. ...And you. I'm sorry but I do...worry about you."

[fortitudosalutis]

Yeah. He'd figured that, Carver thinks. And he breathes out and takes a moment to focus on the cooking, adding another round of pancakes to the burner. It takes a lot to feed the entire company.

"I know," Carver admits, glancing at Bossie. "I know. I don't like making people worry."

But he is. He'd be doing the same in their shoes.

"How's Austin now?"

[nottheboss]

He finishes the last of his pancakes. Draws a breath. "He's struggling, sir. But he's trying. He's fighting. That's all anyone can do, isn't it? Just keep on fighting?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Is it? Carver looks away, focusing on the burner and all the food he's responsible for. He breathes out.

"We're all doing our best," he agrees softly. "Does anything help?"

[nottheboss]

"Nothing that'll last. Having his ex and his kid here keeps him focused but they're not going to stay." They can't, even if they wanted to. And Bossie knows firsthand that Rochelle does not want to stay here with them.

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver scrubs a hand through his hair, trying to think. He's gotten pretty good at managing the younger soldiers over the years through some bad times, but this is different. This is a monster with a thousand faces that catches them when they're waking or dreaming and it hardly matters which.

"I'll talk to them," he murmurs. "See if we can stretch it a little longer."

[nottheboss]

Bossie nods. It's a good idea. "I hope you can. But sooner or later we have to prove to them the threat's real, right? Show them Gabe's trick, or...or worse."

[fortitudosalutis]

Or worse. Carver puffs out a breath, then returns to flipping pancakes. "We'll start with Fifty's trick. Ease them into it."

But when that's not enough?

"They're not safe, is the thing. And I don't know when they will be."

[nottheboss]

"I know." He has no idea how to communicate that to Austin, though. "But maybe when they see what we're up against they'll choose to stay. We can keep them safe."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver nods slowly, trying his best to hide the doubt. That won't help anyone. It'll just make everyone sad.

"Can you do me a favor, little brother? Can you check on Riley and Dulcinea?" Carver swallows hard, trying and failing to smile. "It's - it's awkward when I come around. But we can get things for them, to make it easier. Could you ask what he needs?"

[nottheboss]

"Yessir." He wonders if this makes him a spy. But if it would make things easier for Carver? He'd do anything.

"You want me to go tell him it's time for breakfast...?"

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver swallows, then nods. "Yeah. Bring him some coffee. I'll make it up the way he likes."

Sweetened, with cream. They have real cream here. A few small creature comforts.

[nottheboss]

"I hope he likes it as much as you do." Hopes it'll be enough to soften Riley up enough to answer any questions.

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver huffs a little. "When we were living together, we had the shittiest little rooms. Had to kill the roaches every time we turned on the lights, that bad. But he had this little french press and I always made sure we had coffee beans. A little bit of cream. We had that."

Even in the worst, they had good coffee.

"I'd cook for him. Even when all we had was a hot plate." He sighs, flipping pancakes. "I miss that."

[nottheboss]

"When did it end? I mean you two still clearly care about each other." Riley wouldn't be here if he didn't still care in some way or other.

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver's smile is small and a little sad. "It was early days when Pope was rounding us up. I told Riley it'd just be a few jobs, to get us back on our feet. I'd never been that broke before..."

It wasn't a good time. Neither of them could work regular jobs.

"You remember the Siberia job? I asked Riley to come with. Just the one job, I told him. But I think he knew it wouldn't be."

Carver exhales.

"I went, he didn't. And when I got back, he told me he couldn't do it anymore, that he was going to stay with his sister for a few days and he wanted me gone when he came back."

[nottheboss]

"That's not right, man... That's..." Unfair. But when was anything fair?

"It's like Pope says though, isn't it? It's us or them. They make sure of it."

[fortitudosalutis]

"Wasn't his fault," Carver murmurs. It's not the first time he's defended Riley to the others. "He didn't want to go back to war, we had not right to make him."

And now Riley's here, caught up in it regardless.

He makes a mug of coffee, though. Heavy on the cream, just a little sugar, the way Riley liked.

"Just be nice to him, okay?" he tries.

[nottheboss]

He's not sure how nice he can be to anyone who's hurt Carver. But he'll try, so he nods. "I'll make sure he's okay, Carver."

[fortitudosalutis]

"Thank you," he replies softly, holding the mug out. "Say hi to the kitten, too. She's sweet."

She nursed on his fingers when he held her the first time, a sensation that Carver's never forgotten.

[nottheboss]

He takes the mug and nods, promising to check in on the kitten as well.

He walks down the hallway and then up the stairs, stops before Riley's door. Draws in a steadying breath, and knocks on the door.

[fortitudosalutis]

The babysitting hasn't eased off. Every night, there's a tired soldier on watch. They help with the kitten and never once complain, but they don't let him sleep alone, ever. And that's the detail that sticks in the mind, that he keeps obsessing over. Wondering why. Whether it's a control measure or something else. Something stranger.

He opens the door already dressed, tired and tense. "Bossie," he says slowly. "You're one of Carver's."

[nottheboss]

He looks like he hasn't slept in days. The coffee, he realizes, is not nearly strong enough.

He holds it out anyway. "I thought you could use some caffeine." His eyes slide to the soldier on duty and gives him a quick nod of acknowledgment. Nothing bad happened last night.