Cross Into the Blue Part Two
Please see the masterpost for warnings.
Part One
Iero made Ray uneasy. Not uneasy like Major Stephens had, where he was constantly on edge because it was just impossible to keep up to his standards all the time. Not uneasy like he was with Lieutenant Connell, where even before everything went so spectacularly bad, there had been times when Ray had been able to pick up on a feeling around him that was just wrong. It was just that Iero was too hard to predict.
That definitely didn’t help Ray figure out the whole bed-making issue. Iero had said not to; Soler expected that he would. He couldn’t satisfy both of them, and disappointing either could potentially land him in a heap of shit. Even if Iero didn’t care whether Ray followed his schedule or not, Soler definitely would.
The next morning when Ray got up he went through the other tasks while putting off the whole bed-making issue, hoping the whole problem resolved itself somehow. Iero came in from the bathroom while Ray was straightening up the closet, and said “What are you doing?”
“Sir?” Ray asked, heart racing. He hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but if Iero decided he was snooping or stealing, Ray would never convince him otherwise. “0710,” he said plaintively. “Keep closets in order?”
Iero looked confused for a short moment. “You mean that stupid schedule Soler made us write?” he said incredulously. “You’re actually going to follow it?”
Ray hesitated, unsure what to say. Of course he was going to follow it - why would Iero think otherwise?
“We can just tell Soler you did it, can’t we?” Iero asked. “I’d rather - it’s just that everyone else in the flight has to keep up their own quarters on top of everything else, I don’t want to be different. You know?” He looked at Ray hopefully, and there was really nothing he could do but nod and agree. Every deviation from the schedule raised the likelihood that Soler would find out, and if Iero didn’t want to stand out from the rest of the flight he wouldn’t be pretending very hard that Ray was doing all the chores. This had disaster written all over it.
Still, aside from his annoying ability to give Ray heart failure, Iero turned out to be alright. As a couple of days passed and he failed to turn into a raving asshole, Ray decided to try an experiment. He wanted to write a letter to his mother. He hadn’t been able to do that for a while; Stephens had treated letter writing as a privilege which he’d rarely felt Ray deserved. Ray was pretty sure Iero wouldn’t say no; in fact, he would have just written the damn letter and kept it to himself, since Iero wasn’t troubling to monitor his activities very closely, but Ray didn’t have a pen or notepaper to use. He could have taken some from Iero’s desk, but the Sentinel would notice. More importantly, Ray didn’t have any stamps, and he had no money of his own to buy such things.
The workload for Officer Training was gruelling, both mentally and physically, and Ray knew that Iero wouldn’t have a lot of time to spare for his trivial concerns. The most likely time to get him alone was after dinner when he was studying in his room, but Ray didn’t want to interrupt Iero while he was studying. He didn’t want to get in the way of Iero getting his work done, and anyway, if he did it would hardly make Iero feel inclined to grant Ray’s request. With that in mind, Ray followed on Iero’s heels as he went back to the dorm after dinner and tried to get his attention before he got his books out.
“What’s up, Toro?” Iero asked, as Ray hovered in the door.
“Uh...” Ray tried to pull himself together and present himself as the kind of semi-intelligent adult who was capable of using the items he was about to ask for. “Sir, I would like to make a request.”
“Oh... really?” Iero seemed at first disbelieving, and then pleased. He took a step towards Ray, who instinctively edged backwards. Iero instantly retreated and said, “What is it?”
“I would like to send a letter to my mother.”
“Oh. Okay.” For some reason, Ray’s request had made Iero seem - sad. Or somehow unhappy. Ray wasn’t sure; he might have been able to get a better sense of Iero’s emotions if they’d been working together longer, but they hadn’t even needed to form a working link yet.
“You know you don’t have to ask, right?” Iero said anxiously. “I’m not going to stop you writing a letter to your mom. I mean, she’s your mom.”
“Yes, sir,” Ray answered. At least Iero hadn’t sneered and said he might let Ray write a letter in a week, if he behaved. And it didn’t seem like he’d refuse Ray a sheet of paper and a stamp, either. “I’ll need paper, to write the letter on. And an envelope,” he added quickly. He’d nearly forgotten.
“Okay,” said Iero. “I’m sure I’ve got some around here somewhere, let me have a look.” He rummaged around in the drawers of his desk, opening the top one and then closing it quickly, spending more time looking through the second and finally finding what he was looking for in the third.
“And, uh, I’ll need to buy a stamp, sir,” Ray finished.
“A stamp?” Iero asked. “Sure. Of course. You can buy a stamp. Like... you don’t have to get my permission to buy a stamp, do you?”
It wasn’t Iero’s permission that was the actual issue, but it looked like Ray was going to have to spell that out. “No, sir,” he said. “It’s thirty cents, sir. For a stamp.”
“Oh, right.” Iero looked at him, and Ray felt humiliated. Admitting that he didn’t have thirty cents to his name to spend on a postage stamp... well, it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him, but it was the most recent, and it wasn’t really getting any easier to deal with being treated like a child who couldn’t be trusted with their own allowance.
“That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Iero said, going back to the desk. Oh, great, Ray thought. Ask him what? Iero pulled up a stack of papers and unearthed a book of stamps underneath them. He handed the book to Ray, who went to rip out the one stamp he needed.
“No, keep them all,” Iero said. “In case you want to write more letters.” He was flicking through the papers he’d taken from the desk, and said, “What do you want me to do with your pay?”
Ray stared at Iero, trying to arrange the words in a way that made sense. “Sir?”
“My paycheck came, and they’ve tacked your pay on with mine,” Iero said. “So what do you want me to do with it?”
Iero seemed to think that should clear things up, but Ray was no less confused than he had been before. “Well...” Iero had asked him a question, so Ray wasn’t doing anything wrong by answering it, was he? “They do that so you can cover any expenses you have as a result of having a Guide,” he said, hoping that Iero didn’t decide to interpret that as an accusation of stupidity.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t have any expenses.”
Ray hmmed and held up the stamps, and Iero said, “Oh, pfft. Half a dozen stamps don’t count.” He flicked the paycheck between his fingers. “Do you want me to give you the money by cash or check?” he asked.
Ray wished Iero hadn’t said that. He didn’t want to appear like he was trying to manipulate his Sentinel into giving him money. Eventually, he said, “You don’t have to, sir.”
“I know, but I’m going to, so what’ll it be?”
Well, that was pretty definitive, and Ray was almost relieved to give in. “Check,” he said.
Iero nodded. “Done!” he said, and he actually sat down right then at the desk and got out his checkbook. He seemed a lot happier and handed the check over with a flourish. Ray took it with slightly unsteady fingers. Iero hadn’t even kept anything back to pay for the stamps he’d given Ray. He couldn’t decide whether to mention it or not. He normally would, but knowing Iero he’d probably take it to mean that Ray thought he was petty or stingy or something.
“I’ve got to get to work,” Iero said. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, sir,” said Ray. Iero nodded and sat at the desk. Ray left the room. He’d learned not to wait for Iero to dismiss him properly; he never did. He went to the common room and found a spot where he could sit and write his letter.
*********
Almost a week later, Frank received a letter. Actually, the letter wasn’t for him. It was addressed to Toro, but it still got passed to Frank during mail call. Toro was in the shower at the time so it was probably lucky that the letter was given to Frank and Toro didn’t miss out entirely.
Frank took the letter and went back to his room. The shower had stopped; he could hear the quiet on the other side of the bathroom door. He went over to knock on the door and was about to call out when he heard the sound of Toro’s heart pounding.
Frank wondered what had happened. Toro had been fine a second ago. Now, he was suddenly panicking. Frank could hear his breathing now, harsh and ragged. “Toro?” he called. “Is everything okay?”
Toro didn’t answer. Maybe he’d seen a spider or something. Frank could totally identify with that. If Toro was being menaced by a giant tarantula, it was probably Frank’s duty as his commanding officer to go in there and squish it, no matter how completely terrifying it might be. Frank didn’t like the idea very much, but if he did save Toro from a bloodthirsty spider, Toro might like him a bit more.
Frank opened the bathroom door slowly, calling out as he did so, “Toro? What’s wrong?”
Toro’s heart rate actually got faster as the door opened, and Frank started to become really concerned. Maybe he was having some kind of medical problem. He saw Toro standing next to the shower, a towel around his waist. He took a few steps back as Frank edged into the doorway, slowly and darting glances around just in case there really was a spider lurking in a corner somewhere.
“What’s wrong?” Frank repeated. He concluded that he’d been wrong about his spider theory.
Toro was hunched over, his shoulders curled inwards protectively and his arms crossed in front of him. Frank stepped forwards, reaching out with one hand, but Toro flinched away violently and said, “Don’t touch me!”
Frank drew backwards, startled. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of something to say, but he couldn’t. It was clear that by staying in the room he was only making Toro more upset.
“Sorry,” he said, “Sorry. I’m gonna... go...” He backed out of the room and closed the door behind him, listening and waiting to see if Toro would calm down or if he was going to hyperventilate or pass out or something.
Frank busied himself tidying up the room and getting everything ready for the day. Minutes passed and he started to feel anxious. PT would be starting soon and he couldn’t be late, but he didn’t want to go until he’d made sure Toro would be alright. He could still hear the other man’s heartbeat. It had slowed, but it was still faster than normal.
Finally, the bathroom door cracked open. Toro stepped out, fully dressed and composed, and Frank was relieved. He tried not to show how much, tried to play it cool. He put on a reassuring smile, but Toro just stared blankly back. He was standing as stiff and straight as a flagpole.
“I apologise for my poor conduct, sir,” Toro said, looking at a point just beside Frank’s ear. “It won’t happen again.”
“Won’t hap- Jesus Christ, Toro, are you okay?” Frank asked.
Toro blinked. “Yes, sir, perfectly okay.” His heartbeat now sounded like he’d just come back from a short jog rather than a desperate sprint for his life. Still, Frank wasn’t quite convinced that ‘perfectly okay’ was an accurate description. “I will accept whatever discipline you wish to impose.”
“Whatever... no! Are you serious?” A stupid question, Frank realised, as Toro just looked confused. Of course he was fucking serious. “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I don’t understand what... I guess it’s not my business, but... I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Now Toro seemed worried. He shook his head and looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide what.
Eventually, Frank figured Toro wasn’t going to say anything, so he changed the subject. “Anyway,” he said, “I was just knocking to tell you that you got a letter. From your mom, I think.”
“Yes, sir,” Toro said. He didn’t look happy about it, just... wary. Frank wondered if he’d misunderstood something about their relationship. Writing that letter was the one thing that Toro had asked him for, so Frank had figured it must be important to him, that he was close to his mother. But he didn’t seem all that pleased that she’d written back. Maybe there was some strain on the relationship that Frank didn’t know about.
Frank picked the letter up and held it out to Toro, who watched it like it was about to catch fire. “Don’t you want it?” Frank asked plaintively. He wasn’t going to force Toro to read it if he didn’t want to, but if he could just take the damn thing, Frank would feel a bit less like an idiot.
Toro took a few seconds to reply this time. “Yes, sir,” he said at last, grudgingly, like Frank was forcing the words out of him.
“Well... okay.” Frank would have gone up to him and put the envelope right into his hand, but after the bathroom he didn’t want to get into Toro’s personal space. “I’ll just leave it on your bed.”
He put the letter down and went to leave the room. Toro hadn’t moved, but as Frank reached the door he heard the other man say, softly, “Thank you, sir.”
The words ‘call me Frank’ were on the tip of Frank’s tongue, but he stopped short of saying them. He was starting to think that Toro wouldn’t see the offer as sincere, but rather perceive it as some kind of trick. He’d tried not to let his feelings be hurt by Toro’s wariness, his distrust, but they had been nonetheless. Frank was starting to realise now that maybe he had plenty of reason to be distrustful. He’d have to do more than just tell Toro that he was a nice guy. He’d have to prove it.
***********
Ray picked the letter up off the bed and held it carefully. When Iero had showed him the letter, he’d been sure he was about to tear it up, or at least put it somewhere out of reach. After Ray had snapped at him in the bathroom, he’d been expecting the Sentinel to punish him, and showing Ray the letter and then taking it away would have been perfect.
He hadn’t done that, though. Ray tore the envelope open. He hadn’t expected his mother to write back so quickly.
‘Dear Raymond,’ the letter started.
‘It was lovely to hear from you. I was starting to think you’d forgotten where we live...’
Ray read the whole letter, catching up on months of news from home. It was a long letter, more than three pages, and as soon as Ray had finished it he went back and read it again. The letter awakened a wave of homesickness in him, stronger than he’d felt in years. Maybe it had been better when Major Stephens had kept a tight control on his mail. There wasn’t anything Ray could do to make missing his family easier. Maybe he could write and ask his mom to send him some photos. He was pretty sure Iero wouldn’t mind.
After spending so much time reading and re-reading his letter, Ray had to hurry to accompany Iero to hand-to-hand combat training. He was thankful that, once again, the trainees were paired up with Officer Training upperclassmen - officer candidates who were a month ahead of Iero’s flight in the program - and he wasn’t expected to partner Iero or anything. He could only imagine how awkward that would be.
After lunch, Iero went off to his academic classes and Ray reported for general duty. He spent an hour wiping down tables in the dining hall, and after that he was sent to clean desks in one of the classrooms. It was boring work, and to add insult to injury the desks were pretty clean already. Ray wondered why they didn’t just make him dig holes and fill them in again; it would have made their point just as well.
He was just finishing with the last desk when the door opened and a group of officer trainees started filing in. Ray grabbed his rags and cleaner and walked towards the door. He stopped abruptly when he met Iero coming the other way. Iero blinked up at him, looking startled and uncomfortable. His face went slightly pink and his eyes slipped away from Ray’s.
Iero slipped to the side and sat at one of the desks Ray had just cleaned. Ray continued on his way out of the room. He was sure he saw two of the officer trainees look at him and laugh as he was going out of the door. He wasn’t sure what had struck them as funny. That he was a Guide, maybe. Mundanes didn’t usually have much to do with them, and their first impression of Guides tended to be someone doing what Ray was doing - standing around behind a Sentinel, never appearing to do anything useful. No wonder Guides were a bit of a joke in the military. Ray was trained as an aircraft mechanic; he’d done the courses here and there, between his Guide duties, and he wasn’t bad at it, but G-TAC didn’t want to know about that. If he couldn’t do it and babysit his Sentinel at the same time, they didn’t care, and so neither did anyone else.
**********
Frank was useless for the rest of the day. He practically sleepwalked through his classes, and when he completely failed to hear a question that his instructor asked him, he wound up saddled with an extra essay about refuelling procedures, which sucked. Even then, Frank couldn’t get his mind off Toro long enough to think about anything else.
Why had they stuck him on general duty, when he was probably going to be assigned to Frank for at least the next three months? That would have been time enough for Toro to complete some training himself. It hadn’t occurred to him to say anything about it when he’d met with Soler, being too overwhelmed by everything else, but maybe he could. Maybe it was some kind of punishment for the lie they thought Toro had told, but Frank was pretty convinced that he’d been telling the truth all along. Maybe he could talk to Soler or Boyd, or both of them, show them the interview transcript and explain that the whole investigation had obviously been bungled.
Maybe he could get G-TAC to change their mind.
***********
As the Indoctrination Phase passed for Iero’s flight, the class moved on to Development, and that meant being issued with weapons and needing to re-qualify. It took place in mid-morning, and Ray noticed that Iero took his rifle up eagerly.
“You could probably ask for one too,” he suggested. “Get a little practice in?”
Ray blinked at him. “Won’t you be needing my help, sir?” he asked.
“Huh?” Iero looked blank for a minute. Further down the range, a couple of other officer candidates began to fire and Ray twitched, ready to step in if it looked like the noise was causing Iero problems. “Oh,” Iero said, his expression clearing. “No, I think I’ll be fine.” Ray must have looked doubtful, because Iero smirked at him. “Watch. You’ll see.”
The range was outdoors, but with everyone firing together the noise was deafening and Ray was glad of his earplugs. Iero didn’t seem to notice the noise at all, emptying his magazine into the target and going back for another. When qualification was over and the targets were collected, Iero’s had a hole about two inches across sitting where the bullseye had been, and only a few stray bullets had gone outside that area. Ray was impressed; he’d noticed Iero’s small arms expert ribbon, but hadn’t taken much notice. If anything, it was unusual for a Sentinel not to make expert, but even for a Sentinel Iero’s marksmanship was above average.
Afterwards, Iero went off to academics and Ray spent the afternoon weeding the gardens around the dormitories. After that, there was laundry to get done before Iero ran out of uniforms, and when that was finished it was time for dinner. Ray found Iero outside the dining hall, standing with a couple of airmen he was friendly with, a pair of black framed glasses perched on his nose. He nearly tripped over his own feet.
“Toro?” Iero said, looking slightly alarmed. “Is something wrong?”
Iero’s friends moved towards the door, promising to see him inside, and Ray was glad for the relative privacy. “You’re wearing glasses,” he said stupidly. He waved a hand at Iero’s face, just in case he hadn’t noticed the glasses hooked over his ears.
“Yeah?” Iero looked puzzled.
“I just don’t... you’re a Sentinel,” Ray explained. He’d never known a Sentinel before who needed to wear glasses for anything. He’d never seen Iero wear them before; his vision had always seemed fine.
Iero just shrugged. “My eyes get tired,” he explained. “Especially if I’ve had my sight dialled up, like today at the range. It gets harder to focus on things that are closer, so I use glasses. It’s no big deal.”
Ray nodded and tried to settle down. If Iero said it wasn’t a big deal, he wasn’t going to make himself popular by insisting otherwise. It wasn’t easy though, and there was a part of Ray that insisted that if he were doing his job as Iero’s Guide, Iero wouldn’t need glasses to see. He should have known that even if shooting didn’t interfere with Iero’s hearing, his other senses might be affected. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked anxiously.
Iero shrugged. “I dunno, is there?” he asked, not sounding like he really expected Ray to have any suggestions.
Ray floundered for a bit. Of course, there were things he could do to help Iero, and he was the man’s Guide, so it was his job to tell him about them. He didn’t want to, though. The things he could do to help involved sitting near Iero and maybe holding his hand. In Ray’s experience, Air Force guys were way too invested in their masculinity to take that sort of suggestion well, and even if Iero went along with it, that would mean that Ray would have to, well... sit near him and maybe hold his hand. That wasn’t something he really wanted to do. Still, it was his job.
“Let’s just go get some food,” Iero said when Ray didn’t answer. Ray did so, but he kept thinking about the problem all through the meal.
Back in the dorm, Iero gathered his textbooks to study and Ray hovered in the doorway, knowing that he needed to stay nearby while Iero’s vision was still on the blink. Iero got settled at the desk and looked up at Ray, puzzled when he didn’t leave.
“It might help your eyes if I stay nearby,” Ray explained, hoping that Iero would go along with it and not ask questions or make excuses.
Iero just nodded and said, “Okay,” like he didn’t even care. He turned back to his textbook and read for a minute or two before looking up again. “So,” he said, “You’re just going to, like... stand there? For... however long?”
Ray was stumped for a response. There was only one chair in the room, and Iero was sitting in it. Besides, he had to stay nearby to have any sort of positive effect on Iero’s sight. “It’s my job,” he said at last, sort of helplessly.
Iero just stared at him blankly for a second. “There’s the bed...?” he suggested at last.
“Sit on the bed?” Ray asked, too surprised to keep the words in. He couldn’t sit on the bed. Or rather, he could, but he’d be twitchy the whole time, even knowing that the only person in a position to give him shit about it was Iero, and he wouldn’t. “I’ll just...” Ray trailed off and got down onto his knees.
“Fuck,” said Iero abruptly. “No.”
Ray flinched reflexively, even though he knew by now Iero wouldn’t do anything to him, even if he was pissed. But then Iero grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, and Ray thought maybe he’d got that wrong.
Iero had stood up from his chair, and he turned them both around and pushed Ray down onto it. Ray sat, not entirely sure what was going on. Iero apparently got him positioned to his liking and then sat on his lap, picking up his discarded textbook with a happy sigh.
“Uh...” Ray began, slightly disorientated.
“That’s better,” Iero said. He still sounded kind of mad, so Ray didn’t argue with him. Iero went back to taking notes from the textbook like everything was normal, even though he was sitting on Ray’s lap and Ray didn’t know what to do. In the end, Ray decided to just wait it out. This was really the best thing for Iero’s sight, anyway. He should have suggested it himself, but he’d been too much of a wimp.
Ray didn’t really know what to do with his hands. He grabbed the seat of the chair for a minute or two, and then Iero wobbled slightly, because he was so damn short his feet weren’t even touching the ground. Ray steadied him, and put one arm around Iero’s middle. It was weirdly intimate, and he instantly wanted to pull his hand away, but Iero slipped his own hand around and wrapped it around Ray’s. He’d let go of the textbook to do it, and it started to slide off his knee, so Ray grabbed it with his free hand. Suddenly, they were in some kind of strange embrace. Iero leaned back against his chest and Ray tried to calm down.
It wasn’t even as though Iero was doing anything to him, it was just the way he was so casual about the whole thing that was freaking Ray out. At the same time as he was flipping out, Ray knew that Iero’s contentment was having an influence on him, causing him to calm down and forget why he’d been so anxious. Guides and Sentinels had that effect on one another. Ray had never gone out of his way to piss people off or anything, but having people get mad at him had never been something he’d lost sleep over. It was different with Sentinels; he could feel their feelings. He’d forgotten what that could be like if the Sentinel was feeling something other than furious.
It wasn’t all that interesting sitting there watching Iero read, but Iero must have noticed it when he started to get bored - the empathy thing did go both ways, after all - and he started talking to Ray about what he was reading, and making snippy comments about the things his lecturers had said. It made for a pretty entertaining commentary. Ray listened quietly for a while, giving monosyllabic replies to Iero’s ramblings, but as Iero became more random and ridiculous in his observations and Ray became more amused, it got easier to open up.
“I wonder if maintenance crews really do send back those joke answers on the maintenance forms,” Iero said at one point. “You know: Dead bugs on windshield. Answer: We have ordered more live bugs.”
“Some of them do,” Ray said. “I knew a guy once, the pilot complained that his plane had been supplied with too much fuel. He told the pilot that wasn’t true unless he caught fire.” Ray had a few stories like that, all starring other airmen, not him. Guides didn’t get the same leeway that other enlisted did.
Iero laughed hard. Encouraged, Ray added, “Hey, you know what makes the ideal cockpit crew?”
“Oh, tell me!” Iero said. “I’m going on to Flight School once I get commissioned. What is it?”
“Uh...” Ray said, suddenly much less sure about sharing his joke. “You know, it’s not really all that funny...”
“No, no, no, you have to tell me. Come on.” Iero leaned over to jostle Ray’s shoulder with his own. “Come on. Come on.”
He was still sort of laughing and seemed in a good mood, so Ray took the plunge. “A pilot and a dog,” he said. “The pilot feeds the dog, and the dog bites the pilot if he tries to touch anything.”
Iero was quiet for a second, then broke into surprised laughter. “That’s awesome!” he said. “A pilot and a dog. What other pilot jokes do you know?”
“Tons.”
Ray didn’t notice the time passing, but it must have been an hour or so later when Iero took his glasses off, saying with a tone of surprise, “I don’t need them now. Usually I’d need to sleep before my eyes went back to normal, and there’s so little time to sleep here, I wasn’t sure that would be enough.”
He sounded thrilled, and Ray couldn’t help responding a little smugly, “That’s what Guides are for.” Iero gave him a startled look, but didn’t respond.
“It’s a shame the same thing doesn’t work for you,” he said instead. Ray nodded and reached up to fiddle with the glasses he hated.
“Yeah,” he said. And then, because they’d been talking so casually and Ray had nearly forgotten that he should be careful what he said to Iero, he said, “I used to wear contacts, but...”
Iero looked up at him, looking mildly surprised. “Contacts?” he said. “But then you joined the army, right?”
“Yeah,” said Ray.
“But you know, they only make you wear those glasses in basic, right? After that, you can wear your own glasses, or contacts or whatever you want.”
“Yeah, I know that,” said Ray. “But you’ve still gotta buy your glasses or contacts, and...” He flushed a little, even though Iero receiving all his pay was sort of a fact of life and he already knew about it.
“Oh,” said Iero, “Right.” He kept his gaze steadily on the pages of his book, although there was nothing in his expression to suggest that he was embarrassed. “But... you could get contacts now. If you wanted to.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, and his tone was very casual, as though he didn’t expect Ray to reply at all.
“I could,” Ray responded anyway. He could. Iero had given Ray his share of their pay. Ray had deposited it into his bank account. He hadn’t spent any of it yet, because if Iero thought he was frittering it away on junk he might stop giving it to him, but that was as good as permission. It would almost be like taking back a little of his identity. Ray hadn’t let himself think about how much he wanted that, until now.
************
Usually, Toro came with Frank during PT. Frank thought it was partly for something to do, and partly a conscientious work ethic. They hardly ever needed to link up for any reason, but since PT was always held outside there was always the slight chance of some uncontrolled scent or sound messing with Frank’s senses. The Air Force hadn’t been particularly concerned about that when he’d been in boot camp, but it seemed things were different now. Or maybe the difference was Toro; he was extremely diligent, and Frank supposed if the alternative was mopping hallways he couldn’t blame Toro for preferring to be outside.
Today they were doing calisthenics, which was kind of shitty and boring, but at least it didn’t take much effort beyond the purely physical, and after all the training even that was getting pretty easy for Frank. He finished his set of push-ups and came back to his feet, waiting for the next order. Toro was training next to him. He usually participated in whatever training they did, even drill which in Frank’s opinion was the worst thing ever.
They went through a few more exercises, and Frank was sure he could hear some of the other OT’s talking on the other side of the formation. The instructor didn’t hear them, which was unsurprising, since they were speaking so softly even Frank’s Sentinel ears had taken a few seconds to register the sound. Once he noticed, though, the words became clearer. He heard, “Think the maid will come along for our field exercise?” and someone else replied, “They should give him an apron to wear, not blues.”
Frank frowned, wondering what - or who, they were talking about. Unfortunately, they were sent off to run laps right then, so the conversation stopped and Frank didn’t get the chance to hear more or identify whose voices he’d heard. He needed to focus on running and tried to put it out of his mind, managing well enough for a couple of laps. He drifted towards the back of the group as he ran; he always did that because of his stupid short legs. At least it wasn’t marching. The first couple of times they’d gone running, Toro had tried to stay with him, but Frank had told him not to bother after that. It was just too annoying struggling to keep up and seeing Toro jogging along effortlessly beside him.
That meant that Frank had a pretty good view of Toro, running some way ahead, and he saw the exact moment when one of Frank’s fellow OT’s shoulder-checked him. It only took a second; Toro stumbled but kept his feet, and the airman who’d bumped him continued on without so much as waving sorry. Frank looked around. The instructor didn’t seem to have noticed, and it wasn’t exactly a big deal or anything, but Frank felt like he should do something anyway. He was responsible for Toro; that had to mean stopping other people from hassling him. On the other hand, there was nothing to stop Toro from standing up for himself, and he hadn’t.
The OT who’d knocked him reached the turn, and Frank got a look at his face. It was Davis, that smug asshole. Frank had never liked him. And he was suddenly able to put together the face with one of the voices he’d heard earlier. He could have slapped himself for not figuring it out faster.
They’d been talking about Toro. Of course. The maid. Who should be given an apron to wear because he wasn’t worthy of the Air Force uniform. Frank abruptly wanted to grab Davis and his friend and smash their faces together. Just because Toro was working under bullshit orders and for some reason dicking Guides around was G-TAC’s idea of a good time, it didn’t mean they could treat him like that. Toro was awesome.
The abrupt surge of protectiveness took Frank by surprise, until he remembered it was supposed to be pretty common for Sentinels to be protective of their Guides. Even if they weren’t bonded. He’d doubted that the Blessed Protector Instinct thing was actually real; he hadn’t been able to reconcile it with the idea that Toro’s previous Sentinel had apparently beaten the shit out of him, and the one before that had raped him. But maybe those Sentinels had just been defective, because Frank was definitely feeling some irrational protectiveness right now.
Frank’s chances of catching up to Toro or taking Davis out with a flying kick were depressingly slim, so he merely finished the run while testing out whether his Sentinel powers extended to setting Davis’s head on fire. They didn't.
They finished after that and went for lunch. Frank was busy for the rest of the day with classes and Toro was off doing his own thing. Frank didn’t concentrate on his work as well as usual; he was preoccupied with trying to follow Toro with his senses and trying to listen in on his classmates’ conversations to see if they were still talking about him. Unfortunately, Toro seemed to be out of the reach of his hearing and the rest of the flight was being unusually quiet, so it was a fairly unproductive day.
By the end of classes, Frank had a huge amount of work to do for the next day. He resigned himself to a night of little sleep; he wanted to make sure he got a chance to talk to Toro. He’d been trying to prove his non-assholeness through his actions rather than just talking about it, but Toro reacted to every overture with polite and restrained wariness. It was time to get a few things out in the open.
Toro followed Frank into their room, like he did each evening to see if Frank had anything for him to do. Frank never did, but this night instead of sending Toro off to relax, Frank said, “Hey, um... can I ask you a question?”
Toro looked at him funny, which he did quite frequently, but merely said, “Of course, sir.”
It was then that Frank realised that he hadn’t actually figured out what he was going to say. “Uh, well...” he stammered, “Um, I wanted to ask you if... I mean, I wanted to check that no one’s been bothering you?”
Now Toro just looked confused. “No, sir?” he said hesitantly. “Things have been fine.” His heart rate increased and Frank could tell he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he knew telling Toro as much would just upset him.
“Oh, well, good,” said Frank. “Um. Because, you know, if there was any sort of issue with anyone, I’d want to know. So I could do something about it. If there was... you know, you could tell me.”
Something in Toro’s posture relaxed, his face softened, and he said, “It’s no big deal. It’s nothing I can’t handle, and it’s probably better if you don’t get involved. Uh, sir.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Frank. “I get that.” He hadn’t really thought of it, but it seemed obvious once Toro explained it. “Uh, and, I mean, you can call me Frank. Or Iero, or whatever. Just. It’s weird, you’re like ten years older than me.”
Toro took a minute to digest that. He held Frank’s gaze steadily as though he were judging the sincerity of Frank’s words. Finally he smiled - just barely, but it made Frank realise it was the first time he’d ever seen Toro smile. “More like four years,” he said. “Frank.”
Frank couldn’t contain his grin then. Usually, his next step would have been to jump on Toro and crush him with a hug, but after boot camp he’d learned to control such impulses and, although Toro never said as much, Frank had noticed that he was wary about people getting close to him. “Awesome,” he said. “That’s... yeah, awesome.”
Toro nodded and said, “Ray.”
“Huh?”
“Is my name,” he added. “Ray.”
“Oh, right,” said Frank. “I knew that.” Which was a stupid thing to say, but Ray just nodded like it was completely normal, and was kind enough not to actually explain that he was inviting Frank to use his first name. Frank was pretty excited that the conversation had yielded such spectacular results already, and he hadn’t even brought up the main issue yet.
“Listen,” he said quickly, before he could reconsider the words, “What they did, um, I think it sucks, and I want you to know that, um, they were wrong. And I believe you.”
Ray blinked, looking confused, and said, “What are you talking about?” He gave his head a little shake. “I don’t... there are a few jerks, but it’s seriously nothing you should worry about.”
“No, I’m not talking about that. I meant, you know, when you reported your Sentinel. Um. And they didn’t believe you, but... they should have. And I do.”
“Oh.” Ray’s face had suddenly closed off, in a way that Frank couldn’t quite describe but which made him want to step away. “That's not really... I mean. I made a mistake. And it's in the past now, anyway. You shouldn't worry about it.”
Frank looked at him oddly. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "If you want to talk about it, or anything...” Ray was shaking his head, so Frank changed tactics. “And, anyway, I thought, if you want to try again, to get them to listen to you, I’ll help. Back you up.”
Ray screwed his face up. “No, thanks,” he said.
Frank hesitated. “But they demoted you, and... stuff,” he said. “They should make you a sergeant again and give you all your back pay.” And apologise, he thought but didn’t say.
“I’d rather not,” Ray said, and his voice was more cold and distant than it had been since Frank had met him. Frank didn’t get it. He’d made that first report, he must have wanted to get justice for what that Sentinel had done to him. It hadn’t worked out then, but Frank was serious about sticking up for him.
“It’s wrong,” Frank insisted. “He shouldn’t get away with it. There’s nothing to stop him doing it again,” he added as an afterthought.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Ray barked, and Frank jumped.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, going red.
“It’s over!” Ray snapped. “It’s done. Let it go. I’m not, not talking about this. Just... I need to go.” He turned and swept out of the room, leaving Frank behind trying to make sense of what had happened.
************
The room Ray shared with Frank was the most private place in the dorm, and since Iero was in there and Ray didn’t want to be anywhere near him, that didn’t leave many other places where he could go to get some space. He grabbed some window cleaner and started cleaning the windows across the dorm, as far from Iero’s room as he could manage. If he sat in a corner and brooded, someone would notice, but Ray had learned that cleaning made him practically invisible.
It took some time, but as Ray calmed down he realised how badly he’d screwed up. He shouldn’t have yelled at Iero. Sure, Iero had been nice to him, had overlooked any number of behaviours that other Sentinels would have taken issue with. But no Sentinel would tolerate their Guide yelling at them. Not even Iero. Especially not when he’d only been trying to help.
Ray understood that Iero wanted to help. He appreciated the thought; there just wasn’t any point, anything that Iero could do. He might think otherwise, but Ray knew better. He hoped Iero would give up on the idea; he could, if he wanted, simply order Ray to go along with his ill-conceived idea of approaching G-TAC about reopening the investigation. That would put Ray in the awkward position of either pissing off his Sentinel or G-TAC, and either option probably ended with Soler carrying through on his threat to stick Ray with the worst Sentinel he could find. It was hard to imagine someone more unpleasant than Stephens, but he knew they were out there.
The future looked pretty bleak, so Ray knew what he should be doing was sucking up to Iero and making the most of this time out, however brief it might end up being. But he’d completely stuffed that up too. Maybe they were right about Guides not being able to take care of themselves. Surely no one with any sense of self-preservation would have screwed things up this badly.
It hadn’t been fair of Iero to bring up the idea that Connell might do to his next Guide what he’d done to Ray, though. That had pushed Ray over the edge.
It was normal for Guides to keep notes on their Sentinels, and pass them along to other Guides. A lot of Sentinels didn’t like it, didn’t like the idea of Guides writing about them or passing messages about them. Usually, Guides had to hide their notes in the belongings or home of their Sentinel. Ray had found notes from Connell’s previous Guide hidden in the linen cupboard. They’d been brief, sparse even. A short list of chemical irritants and some suggestions for alternatives. Ray had been annoyed at the time, frustrated that the Guide hadn’t bothered to go into more detail.
When Ray was about to be reassigned, he’d sat down to write notes for the new Guide. He’d wanted to give them something better, more useful. He just hadn’t known where to start. He’d got as far as ‘He...’ the first time. The second time, ‘Don’t...’, and the third time, ‘Just...’
In the end, he’d taken the old notes on their single page and tucked them back in between the towels in the cupboard. They were better than nothing.
Ray could usually finish cleaning all the windows in under an hour, but he managed to stretch the task to more than two. He wasn’t at all eager to go back and face the music. He meant to put it off as long as possible.
He went back to the room eventually. Iero was reading at the desk; when Ray came in he hastily stuffed some papers back into a folder and shoved it into a drawer. He must have been concentrating hard if he hadn’t heard Ray coming, because he obviously didn’t want Ray to know what he was reading. It was probably Ray’s file. Iero was probably trying to figure out the best way to punish him; trying to pick up some tips from Stephens. That was the sort of thing they encouraged new Sentinels to do. Ray felt sick.
Iero sprang up from the desk chair and said, “Ray! Are you... alright? You feel better?”
Ray just blinked at him in confusion. Iero wasn’t supposed to care about that.
“I know... we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I wanted to say I’m sorry. For upsetting you earlier.”
It was nice that Iero wasn’t yelling at him like he’d expected, but Ray was getting tired of his actions just not making any sense. It was all just... making him tired.
“I should apologise,” he said anyway, because it was the thing to say. “I overreacted. I should have been more respectful.”
“You had every reason to be mad,” Iero answered, although Ray noticed he didn’t comment on the disrespect thing. “It’s not my business. I won’t pry again.”
Iero looked so mournful that Ray couldn’t help responding to him. “I accept your apology, sir.”
“Frank,” Iero corrected, looking just as sad.
Right. Ray wasn’t too sure about that. Iero was trying and he wasn’t a jerk or anything, but he was still a Sentinel. Ray couldn’t afford to forget that again.
Part Three
Part One
Iero made Ray uneasy. Not uneasy like Major Stephens had, where he was constantly on edge because it was just impossible to keep up to his standards all the time. Not uneasy like he was with Lieutenant Connell, where even before everything went so spectacularly bad, there had been times when Ray had been able to pick up on a feeling around him that was just wrong. It was just that Iero was too hard to predict.
That definitely didn’t help Ray figure out the whole bed-making issue. Iero had said not to; Soler expected that he would. He couldn’t satisfy both of them, and disappointing either could potentially land him in a heap of shit. Even if Iero didn’t care whether Ray followed his schedule or not, Soler definitely would.
The next morning when Ray got up he went through the other tasks while putting off the whole bed-making issue, hoping the whole problem resolved itself somehow. Iero came in from the bathroom while Ray was straightening up the closet, and said “What are you doing?”
“Sir?” Ray asked, heart racing. He hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but if Iero decided he was snooping or stealing, Ray would never convince him otherwise. “0710,” he said plaintively. “Keep closets in order?”
Iero looked confused for a short moment. “You mean that stupid schedule Soler made us write?” he said incredulously. “You’re actually going to follow it?”
Ray hesitated, unsure what to say. Of course he was going to follow it - why would Iero think otherwise?
“We can just tell Soler you did it, can’t we?” Iero asked. “I’d rather - it’s just that everyone else in the flight has to keep up their own quarters on top of everything else, I don’t want to be different. You know?” He looked at Ray hopefully, and there was really nothing he could do but nod and agree. Every deviation from the schedule raised the likelihood that Soler would find out, and if Iero didn’t want to stand out from the rest of the flight he wouldn’t be pretending very hard that Ray was doing all the chores. This had disaster written all over it.
Still, aside from his annoying ability to give Ray heart failure, Iero turned out to be alright. As a couple of days passed and he failed to turn into a raving asshole, Ray decided to try an experiment. He wanted to write a letter to his mother. He hadn’t been able to do that for a while; Stephens had treated letter writing as a privilege which he’d rarely felt Ray deserved. Ray was pretty sure Iero wouldn’t say no; in fact, he would have just written the damn letter and kept it to himself, since Iero wasn’t troubling to monitor his activities very closely, but Ray didn’t have a pen or notepaper to use. He could have taken some from Iero’s desk, but the Sentinel would notice. More importantly, Ray didn’t have any stamps, and he had no money of his own to buy such things.
The workload for Officer Training was gruelling, both mentally and physically, and Ray knew that Iero wouldn’t have a lot of time to spare for his trivial concerns. The most likely time to get him alone was after dinner when he was studying in his room, but Ray didn’t want to interrupt Iero while he was studying. He didn’t want to get in the way of Iero getting his work done, and anyway, if he did it would hardly make Iero feel inclined to grant Ray’s request. With that in mind, Ray followed on Iero’s heels as he went back to the dorm after dinner and tried to get his attention before he got his books out.
“What’s up, Toro?” Iero asked, as Ray hovered in the door.
“Uh...” Ray tried to pull himself together and present himself as the kind of semi-intelligent adult who was capable of using the items he was about to ask for. “Sir, I would like to make a request.”
“Oh... really?” Iero seemed at first disbelieving, and then pleased. He took a step towards Ray, who instinctively edged backwards. Iero instantly retreated and said, “What is it?”
“I would like to send a letter to my mother.”
“Oh. Okay.” For some reason, Ray’s request had made Iero seem - sad. Or somehow unhappy. Ray wasn’t sure; he might have been able to get a better sense of Iero’s emotions if they’d been working together longer, but they hadn’t even needed to form a working link yet.
“You know you don’t have to ask, right?” Iero said anxiously. “I’m not going to stop you writing a letter to your mom. I mean, she’s your mom.”
“Yes, sir,” Ray answered. At least Iero hadn’t sneered and said he might let Ray write a letter in a week, if he behaved. And it didn’t seem like he’d refuse Ray a sheet of paper and a stamp, either. “I’ll need paper, to write the letter on. And an envelope,” he added quickly. He’d nearly forgotten.
“Okay,” said Iero. “I’m sure I’ve got some around here somewhere, let me have a look.” He rummaged around in the drawers of his desk, opening the top one and then closing it quickly, spending more time looking through the second and finally finding what he was looking for in the third.
“And, uh, I’ll need to buy a stamp, sir,” Ray finished.
“A stamp?” Iero asked. “Sure. Of course. You can buy a stamp. Like... you don’t have to get my permission to buy a stamp, do you?”
It wasn’t Iero’s permission that was the actual issue, but it looked like Ray was going to have to spell that out. “No, sir,” he said. “It’s thirty cents, sir. For a stamp.”
“Oh, right.” Iero looked at him, and Ray felt humiliated. Admitting that he didn’t have thirty cents to his name to spend on a postage stamp... well, it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him, but it was the most recent, and it wasn’t really getting any easier to deal with being treated like a child who couldn’t be trusted with their own allowance.
“That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Iero said, going back to the desk. Oh, great, Ray thought. Ask him what? Iero pulled up a stack of papers and unearthed a book of stamps underneath them. He handed the book to Ray, who went to rip out the one stamp he needed.
“No, keep them all,” Iero said. “In case you want to write more letters.” He was flicking through the papers he’d taken from the desk, and said, “What do you want me to do with your pay?”
Ray stared at Iero, trying to arrange the words in a way that made sense. “Sir?”
“My paycheck came, and they’ve tacked your pay on with mine,” Iero said. “So what do you want me to do with it?”
Iero seemed to think that should clear things up, but Ray was no less confused than he had been before. “Well...” Iero had asked him a question, so Ray wasn’t doing anything wrong by answering it, was he? “They do that so you can cover any expenses you have as a result of having a Guide,” he said, hoping that Iero didn’t decide to interpret that as an accusation of stupidity.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t have any expenses.”
Ray hmmed and held up the stamps, and Iero said, “Oh, pfft. Half a dozen stamps don’t count.” He flicked the paycheck between his fingers. “Do you want me to give you the money by cash or check?” he asked.
Ray wished Iero hadn’t said that. He didn’t want to appear like he was trying to manipulate his Sentinel into giving him money. Eventually, he said, “You don’t have to, sir.”
“I know, but I’m going to, so what’ll it be?”
Well, that was pretty definitive, and Ray was almost relieved to give in. “Check,” he said.
Iero nodded. “Done!” he said, and he actually sat down right then at the desk and got out his checkbook. He seemed a lot happier and handed the check over with a flourish. Ray took it with slightly unsteady fingers. Iero hadn’t even kept anything back to pay for the stamps he’d given Ray. He couldn’t decide whether to mention it or not. He normally would, but knowing Iero he’d probably take it to mean that Ray thought he was petty or stingy or something.
“I’ve got to get to work,” Iero said. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, sir,” said Ray. Iero nodded and sat at the desk. Ray left the room. He’d learned not to wait for Iero to dismiss him properly; he never did. He went to the common room and found a spot where he could sit and write his letter.
*********
Almost a week later, Frank received a letter. Actually, the letter wasn’t for him. It was addressed to Toro, but it still got passed to Frank during mail call. Toro was in the shower at the time so it was probably lucky that the letter was given to Frank and Toro didn’t miss out entirely.
Frank took the letter and went back to his room. The shower had stopped; he could hear the quiet on the other side of the bathroom door. He went over to knock on the door and was about to call out when he heard the sound of Toro’s heart pounding.
Frank wondered what had happened. Toro had been fine a second ago. Now, he was suddenly panicking. Frank could hear his breathing now, harsh and ragged. “Toro?” he called. “Is everything okay?”
Toro didn’t answer. Maybe he’d seen a spider or something. Frank could totally identify with that. If Toro was being menaced by a giant tarantula, it was probably Frank’s duty as his commanding officer to go in there and squish it, no matter how completely terrifying it might be. Frank didn’t like the idea very much, but if he did save Toro from a bloodthirsty spider, Toro might like him a bit more.
Frank opened the bathroom door slowly, calling out as he did so, “Toro? What’s wrong?”
Toro’s heart rate actually got faster as the door opened, and Frank started to become really concerned. Maybe he was having some kind of medical problem. He saw Toro standing next to the shower, a towel around his waist. He took a few steps back as Frank edged into the doorway, slowly and darting glances around just in case there really was a spider lurking in a corner somewhere.
“What’s wrong?” Frank repeated. He concluded that he’d been wrong about his spider theory.
Toro was hunched over, his shoulders curled inwards protectively and his arms crossed in front of him. Frank stepped forwards, reaching out with one hand, but Toro flinched away violently and said, “Don’t touch me!”
Frank drew backwards, startled. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of something to say, but he couldn’t. It was clear that by staying in the room he was only making Toro more upset.
“Sorry,” he said, “Sorry. I’m gonna... go...” He backed out of the room and closed the door behind him, listening and waiting to see if Toro would calm down or if he was going to hyperventilate or pass out or something.
Frank busied himself tidying up the room and getting everything ready for the day. Minutes passed and he started to feel anxious. PT would be starting soon and he couldn’t be late, but he didn’t want to go until he’d made sure Toro would be alright. He could still hear the other man’s heartbeat. It had slowed, but it was still faster than normal.
Finally, the bathroom door cracked open. Toro stepped out, fully dressed and composed, and Frank was relieved. He tried not to show how much, tried to play it cool. He put on a reassuring smile, but Toro just stared blankly back. He was standing as stiff and straight as a flagpole.
“I apologise for my poor conduct, sir,” Toro said, looking at a point just beside Frank’s ear. “It won’t happen again.”
“Won’t hap- Jesus Christ, Toro, are you okay?” Frank asked.
Toro blinked. “Yes, sir, perfectly okay.” His heartbeat now sounded like he’d just come back from a short jog rather than a desperate sprint for his life. Still, Frank wasn’t quite convinced that ‘perfectly okay’ was an accurate description. “I will accept whatever discipline you wish to impose.”
“Whatever... no! Are you serious?” A stupid question, Frank realised, as Toro just looked confused. Of course he was fucking serious. “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I don’t understand what... I guess it’s not my business, but... I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Now Toro seemed worried. He shook his head and looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide what.
Eventually, Frank figured Toro wasn’t going to say anything, so he changed the subject. “Anyway,” he said, “I was just knocking to tell you that you got a letter. From your mom, I think.”
“Yes, sir,” Toro said. He didn’t look happy about it, just... wary. Frank wondered if he’d misunderstood something about their relationship. Writing that letter was the one thing that Toro had asked him for, so Frank had figured it must be important to him, that he was close to his mother. But he didn’t seem all that pleased that she’d written back. Maybe there was some strain on the relationship that Frank didn’t know about.
Frank picked the letter up and held it out to Toro, who watched it like it was about to catch fire. “Don’t you want it?” Frank asked plaintively. He wasn’t going to force Toro to read it if he didn’t want to, but if he could just take the damn thing, Frank would feel a bit less like an idiot.
Toro took a few seconds to reply this time. “Yes, sir,” he said at last, grudgingly, like Frank was forcing the words out of him.
“Well... okay.” Frank would have gone up to him and put the envelope right into his hand, but after the bathroom he didn’t want to get into Toro’s personal space. “I’ll just leave it on your bed.”
He put the letter down and went to leave the room. Toro hadn’t moved, but as Frank reached the door he heard the other man say, softly, “Thank you, sir.”
The words ‘call me Frank’ were on the tip of Frank’s tongue, but he stopped short of saying them. He was starting to think that Toro wouldn’t see the offer as sincere, but rather perceive it as some kind of trick. He’d tried not to let his feelings be hurt by Toro’s wariness, his distrust, but they had been nonetheless. Frank was starting to realise now that maybe he had plenty of reason to be distrustful. He’d have to do more than just tell Toro that he was a nice guy. He’d have to prove it.
***********
Ray picked the letter up off the bed and held it carefully. When Iero had showed him the letter, he’d been sure he was about to tear it up, or at least put it somewhere out of reach. After Ray had snapped at him in the bathroom, he’d been expecting the Sentinel to punish him, and showing Ray the letter and then taking it away would have been perfect.
He hadn’t done that, though. Ray tore the envelope open. He hadn’t expected his mother to write back so quickly.
‘Dear Raymond,’ the letter started.
‘It was lovely to hear from you. I was starting to think you’d forgotten where we live...’
Ray read the whole letter, catching up on months of news from home. It was a long letter, more than three pages, and as soon as Ray had finished it he went back and read it again. The letter awakened a wave of homesickness in him, stronger than he’d felt in years. Maybe it had been better when Major Stephens had kept a tight control on his mail. There wasn’t anything Ray could do to make missing his family easier. Maybe he could write and ask his mom to send him some photos. He was pretty sure Iero wouldn’t mind.
After spending so much time reading and re-reading his letter, Ray had to hurry to accompany Iero to hand-to-hand combat training. He was thankful that, once again, the trainees were paired up with Officer Training upperclassmen - officer candidates who were a month ahead of Iero’s flight in the program - and he wasn’t expected to partner Iero or anything. He could only imagine how awkward that would be.
After lunch, Iero went off to his academic classes and Ray reported for general duty. He spent an hour wiping down tables in the dining hall, and after that he was sent to clean desks in one of the classrooms. It was boring work, and to add insult to injury the desks were pretty clean already. Ray wondered why they didn’t just make him dig holes and fill them in again; it would have made their point just as well.
He was just finishing with the last desk when the door opened and a group of officer trainees started filing in. Ray grabbed his rags and cleaner and walked towards the door. He stopped abruptly when he met Iero coming the other way. Iero blinked up at him, looking startled and uncomfortable. His face went slightly pink and his eyes slipped away from Ray’s.
Iero slipped to the side and sat at one of the desks Ray had just cleaned. Ray continued on his way out of the room. He was sure he saw two of the officer trainees look at him and laugh as he was going out of the door. He wasn’t sure what had struck them as funny. That he was a Guide, maybe. Mundanes didn’t usually have much to do with them, and their first impression of Guides tended to be someone doing what Ray was doing - standing around behind a Sentinel, never appearing to do anything useful. No wonder Guides were a bit of a joke in the military. Ray was trained as an aircraft mechanic; he’d done the courses here and there, between his Guide duties, and he wasn’t bad at it, but G-TAC didn’t want to know about that. If he couldn’t do it and babysit his Sentinel at the same time, they didn’t care, and so neither did anyone else.
**********
Frank was useless for the rest of the day. He practically sleepwalked through his classes, and when he completely failed to hear a question that his instructor asked him, he wound up saddled with an extra essay about refuelling procedures, which sucked. Even then, Frank couldn’t get his mind off Toro long enough to think about anything else.
Why had they stuck him on general duty, when he was probably going to be assigned to Frank for at least the next three months? That would have been time enough for Toro to complete some training himself. It hadn’t occurred to him to say anything about it when he’d met with Soler, being too overwhelmed by everything else, but maybe he could. Maybe it was some kind of punishment for the lie they thought Toro had told, but Frank was pretty convinced that he’d been telling the truth all along. Maybe he could talk to Soler or Boyd, or both of them, show them the interview transcript and explain that the whole investigation had obviously been bungled.
Maybe he could get G-TAC to change their mind.
***********
As the Indoctrination Phase passed for Iero’s flight, the class moved on to Development, and that meant being issued with weapons and needing to re-qualify. It took place in mid-morning, and Ray noticed that Iero took his rifle up eagerly.
“You could probably ask for one too,” he suggested. “Get a little practice in?”
Ray blinked at him. “Won’t you be needing my help, sir?” he asked.
“Huh?” Iero looked blank for a minute. Further down the range, a couple of other officer candidates began to fire and Ray twitched, ready to step in if it looked like the noise was causing Iero problems. “Oh,” Iero said, his expression clearing. “No, I think I’ll be fine.” Ray must have looked doubtful, because Iero smirked at him. “Watch. You’ll see.”
The range was outdoors, but with everyone firing together the noise was deafening and Ray was glad of his earplugs. Iero didn’t seem to notice the noise at all, emptying his magazine into the target and going back for another. When qualification was over and the targets were collected, Iero’s had a hole about two inches across sitting where the bullseye had been, and only a few stray bullets had gone outside that area. Ray was impressed; he’d noticed Iero’s small arms expert ribbon, but hadn’t taken much notice. If anything, it was unusual for a Sentinel not to make expert, but even for a Sentinel Iero’s marksmanship was above average.
Afterwards, Iero went off to academics and Ray spent the afternoon weeding the gardens around the dormitories. After that, there was laundry to get done before Iero ran out of uniforms, and when that was finished it was time for dinner. Ray found Iero outside the dining hall, standing with a couple of airmen he was friendly with, a pair of black framed glasses perched on his nose. He nearly tripped over his own feet.
“Toro?” Iero said, looking slightly alarmed. “Is something wrong?”
Iero’s friends moved towards the door, promising to see him inside, and Ray was glad for the relative privacy. “You’re wearing glasses,” he said stupidly. He waved a hand at Iero’s face, just in case he hadn’t noticed the glasses hooked over his ears.
“Yeah?” Iero looked puzzled.
“I just don’t... you’re a Sentinel,” Ray explained. He’d never known a Sentinel before who needed to wear glasses for anything. He’d never seen Iero wear them before; his vision had always seemed fine.
Iero just shrugged. “My eyes get tired,” he explained. “Especially if I’ve had my sight dialled up, like today at the range. It gets harder to focus on things that are closer, so I use glasses. It’s no big deal.”
Ray nodded and tried to settle down. If Iero said it wasn’t a big deal, he wasn’t going to make himself popular by insisting otherwise. It wasn’t easy though, and there was a part of Ray that insisted that if he were doing his job as Iero’s Guide, Iero wouldn’t need glasses to see. He should have known that even if shooting didn’t interfere with Iero’s hearing, his other senses might be affected. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked anxiously.
Iero shrugged. “I dunno, is there?” he asked, not sounding like he really expected Ray to have any suggestions.
Ray floundered for a bit. Of course, there were things he could do to help Iero, and he was the man’s Guide, so it was his job to tell him about them. He didn’t want to, though. The things he could do to help involved sitting near Iero and maybe holding his hand. In Ray’s experience, Air Force guys were way too invested in their masculinity to take that sort of suggestion well, and even if Iero went along with it, that would mean that Ray would have to, well... sit near him and maybe hold his hand. That wasn’t something he really wanted to do. Still, it was his job.
“Let’s just go get some food,” Iero said when Ray didn’t answer. Ray did so, but he kept thinking about the problem all through the meal.
Back in the dorm, Iero gathered his textbooks to study and Ray hovered in the doorway, knowing that he needed to stay nearby while Iero’s vision was still on the blink. Iero got settled at the desk and looked up at Ray, puzzled when he didn’t leave.
“It might help your eyes if I stay nearby,” Ray explained, hoping that Iero would go along with it and not ask questions or make excuses.
Iero just nodded and said, “Okay,” like he didn’t even care. He turned back to his textbook and read for a minute or two before looking up again. “So,” he said, “You’re just going to, like... stand there? For... however long?”
Ray was stumped for a response. There was only one chair in the room, and Iero was sitting in it. Besides, he had to stay nearby to have any sort of positive effect on Iero’s sight. “It’s my job,” he said at last, sort of helplessly.
Iero just stared at him blankly for a second. “There’s the bed...?” he suggested at last.
“Sit on the bed?” Ray asked, too surprised to keep the words in. He couldn’t sit on the bed. Or rather, he could, but he’d be twitchy the whole time, even knowing that the only person in a position to give him shit about it was Iero, and he wouldn’t. “I’ll just...” Ray trailed off and got down onto his knees.
“Fuck,” said Iero abruptly. “No.”
Ray flinched reflexively, even though he knew by now Iero wouldn’t do anything to him, even if he was pissed. But then Iero grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, and Ray thought maybe he’d got that wrong.
Iero had stood up from his chair, and he turned them both around and pushed Ray down onto it. Ray sat, not entirely sure what was going on. Iero apparently got him positioned to his liking and then sat on his lap, picking up his discarded textbook with a happy sigh.
“Uh...” Ray began, slightly disorientated.
“That’s better,” Iero said. He still sounded kind of mad, so Ray didn’t argue with him. Iero went back to taking notes from the textbook like everything was normal, even though he was sitting on Ray’s lap and Ray didn’t know what to do. In the end, Ray decided to just wait it out. This was really the best thing for Iero’s sight, anyway. He should have suggested it himself, but he’d been too much of a wimp.
Ray didn’t really know what to do with his hands. He grabbed the seat of the chair for a minute or two, and then Iero wobbled slightly, because he was so damn short his feet weren’t even touching the ground. Ray steadied him, and put one arm around Iero’s middle. It was weirdly intimate, and he instantly wanted to pull his hand away, but Iero slipped his own hand around and wrapped it around Ray’s. He’d let go of the textbook to do it, and it started to slide off his knee, so Ray grabbed it with his free hand. Suddenly, they were in some kind of strange embrace. Iero leaned back against his chest and Ray tried to calm down.
It wasn’t even as though Iero was doing anything to him, it was just the way he was so casual about the whole thing that was freaking Ray out. At the same time as he was flipping out, Ray knew that Iero’s contentment was having an influence on him, causing him to calm down and forget why he’d been so anxious. Guides and Sentinels had that effect on one another. Ray had never gone out of his way to piss people off or anything, but having people get mad at him had never been something he’d lost sleep over. It was different with Sentinels; he could feel their feelings. He’d forgotten what that could be like if the Sentinel was feeling something other than furious.
It wasn’t all that interesting sitting there watching Iero read, but Iero must have noticed it when he started to get bored - the empathy thing did go both ways, after all - and he started talking to Ray about what he was reading, and making snippy comments about the things his lecturers had said. It made for a pretty entertaining commentary. Ray listened quietly for a while, giving monosyllabic replies to Iero’s ramblings, but as Iero became more random and ridiculous in his observations and Ray became more amused, it got easier to open up.
“I wonder if maintenance crews really do send back those joke answers on the maintenance forms,” Iero said at one point. “You know: Dead bugs on windshield. Answer: We have ordered more live bugs.”
“Some of them do,” Ray said. “I knew a guy once, the pilot complained that his plane had been supplied with too much fuel. He told the pilot that wasn’t true unless he caught fire.” Ray had a few stories like that, all starring other airmen, not him. Guides didn’t get the same leeway that other enlisted did.
Iero laughed hard. Encouraged, Ray added, “Hey, you know what makes the ideal cockpit crew?”
“Oh, tell me!” Iero said. “I’m going on to Flight School once I get commissioned. What is it?”
“Uh...” Ray said, suddenly much less sure about sharing his joke. “You know, it’s not really all that funny...”
“No, no, no, you have to tell me. Come on.” Iero leaned over to jostle Ray’s shoulder with his own. “Come on. Come on.”
He was still sort of laughing and seemed in a good mood, so Ray took the plunge. “A pilot and a dog,” he said. “The pilot feeds the dog, and the dog bites the pilot if he tries to touch anything.”
Iero was quiet for a second, then broke into surprised laughter. “That’s awesome!” he said. “A pilot and a dog. What other pilot jokes do you know?”
“Tons.”
Ray didn’t notice the time passing, but it must have been an hour or so later when Iero took his glasses off, saying with a tone of surprise, “I don’t need them now. Usually I’d need to sleep before my eyes went back to normal, and there’s so little time to sleep here, I wasn’t sure that would be enough.”
He sounded thrilled, and Ray couldn’t help responding a little smugly, “That’s what Guides are for.” Iero gave him a startled look, but didn’t respond.
“It’s a shame the same thing doesn’t work for you,” he said instead. Ray nodded and reached up to fiddle with the glasses he hated.
“Yeah,” he said. And then, because they’d been talking so casually and Ray had nearly forgotten that he should be careful what he said to Iero, he said, “I used to wear contacts, but...”
Iero looked up at him, looking mildly surprised. “Contacts?” he said. “But then you joined the army, right?”
“Yeah,” said Ray.
“But you know, they only make you wear those glasses in basic, right? After that, you can wear your own glasses, or contacts or whatever you want.”
“Yeah, I know that,” said Ray. “But you’ve still gotta buy your glasses or contacts, and...” He flushed a little, even though Iero receiving all his pay was sort of a fact of life and he already knew about it.
“Oh,” said Iero, “Right.” He kept his gaze steadily on the pages of his book, although there was nothing in his expression to suggest that he was embarrassed. “But... you could get contacts now. If you wanted to.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, and his tone was very casual, as though he didn’t expect Ray to reply at all.
“I could,” Ray responded anyway. He could. Iero had given Ray his share of their pay. Ray had deposited it into his bank account. He hadn’t spent any of it yet, because if Iero thought he was frittering it away on junk he might stop giving it to him, but that was as good as permission. It would almost be like taking back a little of his identity. Ray hadn’t let himself think about how much he wanted that, until now.
************
Usually, Toro came with Frank during PT. Frank thought it was partly for something to do, and partly a conscientious work ethic. They hardly ever needed to link up for any reason, but since PT was always held outside there was always the slight chance of some uncontrolled scent or sound messing with Frank’s senses. The Air Force hadn’t been particularly concerned about that when he’d been in boot camp, but it seemed things were different now. Or maybe the difference was Toro; he was extremely diligent, and Frank supposed if the alternative was mopping hallways he couldn’t blame Toro for preferring to be outside.
Today they were doing calisthenics, which was kind of shitty and boring, but at least it didn’t take much effort beyond the purely physical, and after all the training even that was getting pretty easy for Frank. He finished his set of push-ups and came back to his feet, waiting for the next order. Toro was training next to him. He usually participated in whatever training they did, even drill which in Frank’s opinion was the worst thing ever.
They went through a few more exercises, and Frank was sure he could hear some of the other OT’s talking on the other side of the formation. The instructor didn’t hear them, which was unsurprising, since they were speaking so softly even Frank’s Sentinel ears had taken a few seconds to register the sound. Once he noticed, though, the words became clearer. He heard, “Think the maid will come along for our field exercise?” and someone else replied, “They should give him an apron to wear, not blues.”
Frank frowned, wondering what - or who, they were talking about. Unfortunately, they were sent off to run laps right then, so the conversation stopped and Frank didn’t get the chance to hear more or identify whose voices he’d heard. He needed to focus on running and tried to put it out of his mind, managing well enough for a couple of laps. He drifted towards the back of the group as he ran; he always did that because of his stupid short legs. At least it wasn’t marching. The first couple of times they’d gone running, Toro had tried to stay with him, but Frank had told him not to bother after that. It was just too annoying struggling to keep up and seeing Toro jogging along effortlessly beside him.
That meant that Frank had a pretty good view of Toro, running some way ahead, and he saw the exact moment when one of Frank’s fellow OT’s shoulder-checked him. It only took a second; Toro stumbled but kept his feet, and the airman who’d bumped him continued on without so much as waving sorry. Frank looked around. The instructor didn’t seem to have noticed, and it wasn’t exactly a big deal or anything, but Frank felt like he should do something anyway. He was responsible for Toro; that had to mean stopping other people from hassling him. On the other hand, there was nothing to stop Toro from standing up for himself, and he hadn’t.
The OT who’d knocked him reached the turn, and Frank got a look at his face. It was Davis, that smug asshole. Frank had never liked him. And he was suddenly able to put together the face with one of the voices he’d heard earlier. He could have slapped himself for not figuring it out faster.
They’d been talking about Toro. Of course. The maid. Who should be given an apron to wear because he wasn’t worthy of the Air Force uniform. Frank abruptly wanted to grab Davis and his friend and smash their faces together. Just because Toro was working under bullshit orders and for some reason dicking Guides around was G-TAC’s idea of a good time, it didn’t mean they could treat him like that. Toro was awesome.
The abrupt surge of protectiveness took Frank by surprise, until he remembered it was supposed to be pretty common for Sentinels to be protective of their Guides. Even if they weren’t bonded. He’d doubted that the Blessed Protector Instinct thing was actually real; he hadn’t been able to reconcile it with the idea that Toro’s previous Sentinel had apparently beaten the shit out of him, and the one before that had raped him. But maybe those Sentinels had just been defective, because Frank was definitely feeling some irrational protectiveness right now.
Frank’s chances of catching up to Toro or taking Davis out with a flying kick were depressingly slim, so he merely finished the run while testing out whether his Sentinel powers extended to setting Davis’s head on fire. They didn't.
They finished after that and went for lunch. Frank was busy for the rest of the day with classes and Toro was off doing his own thing. Frank didn’t concentrate on his work as well as usual; he was preoccupied with trying to follow Toro with his senses and trying to listen in on his classmates’ conversations to see if they were still talking about him. Unfortunately, Toro seemed to be out of the reach of his hearing and the rest of the flight was being unusually quiet, so it was a fairly unproductive day.
By the end of classes, Frank had a huge amount of work to do for the next day. He resigned himself to a night of little sleep; he wanted to make sure he got a chance to talk to Toro. He’d been trying to prove his non-assholeness through his actions rather than just talking about it, but Toro reacted to every overture with polite and restrained wariness. It was time to get a few things out in the open.
Toro followed Frank into their room, like he did each evening to see if Frank had anything for him to do. Frank never did, but this night instead of sending Toro off to relax, Frank said, “Hey, um... can I ask you a question?”
Toro looked at him funny, which he did quite frequently, but merely said, “Of course, sir.”
It was then that Frank realised that he hadn’t actually figured out what he was going to say. “Uh, well...” he stammered, “Um, I wanted to ask you if... I mean, I wanted to check that no one’s been bothering you?”
Now Toro just looked confused. “No, sir?” he said hesitantly. “Things have been fine.” His heart rate increased and Frank could tell he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he knew telling Toro as much would just upset him.
“Oh, well, good,” said Frank. “Um. Because, you know, if there was any sort of issue with anyone, I’d want to know. So I could do something about it. If there was... you know, you could tell me.”
Something in Toro’s posture relaxed, his face softened, and he said, “It’s no big deal. It’s nothing I can’t handle, and it’s probably better if you don’t get involved. Uh, sir.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Frank. “I get that.” He hadn’t really thought of it, but it seemed obvious once Toro explained it. “Uh, and, I mean, you can call me Frank. Or Iero, or whatever. Just. It’s weird, you’re like ten years older than me.”
Toro took a minute to digest that. He held Frank’s gaze steadily as though he were judging the sincerity of Frank’s words. Finally he smiled - just barely, but it made Frank realise it was the first time he’d ever seen Toro smile. “More like four years,” he said. “Frank.”
Frank couldn’t contain his grin then. Usually, his next step would have been to jump on Toro and crush him with a hug, but after boot camp he’d learned to control such impulses and, although Toro never said as much, Frank had noticed that he was wary about people getting close to him. “Awesome,” he said. “That’s... yeah, awesome.”
Toro nodded and said, “Ray.”
“Huh?”
“Is my name,” he added. “Ray.”
“Oh, right,” said Frank. “I knew that.” Which was a stupid thing to say, but Ray just nodded like it was completely normal, and was kind enough not to actually explain that he was inviting Frank to use his first name. Frank was pretty excited that the conversation had yielded such spectacular results already, and he hadn’t even brought up the main issue yet.
“Listen,” he said quickly, before he could reconsider the words, “What they did, um, I think it sucks, and I want you to know that, um, they were wrong. And I believe you.”
Ray blinked, looking confused, and said, “What are you talking about?” He gave his head a little shake. “I don’t... there are a few jerks, but it’s seriously nothing you should worry about.”
“No, I’m not talking about that. I meant, you know, when you reported your Sentinel. Um. And they didn’t believe you, but... they should have. And I do.”
“Oh.” Ray’s face had suddenly closed off, in a way that Frank couldn’t quite describe but which made him want to step away. “That's not really... I mean. I made a mistake. And it's in the past now, anyway. You shouldn't worry about it.”
Frank looked at him oddly. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "If you want to talk about it, or anything...” Ray was shaking his head, so Frank changed tactics. “And, anyway, I thought, if you want to try again, to get them to listen to you, I’ll help. Back you up.”
Ray screwed his face up. “No, thanks,” he said.
Frank hesitated. “But they demoted you, and... stuff,” he said. “They should make you a sergeant again and give you all your back pay.” And apologise, he thought but didn’t say.
“I’d rather not,” Ray said, and his voice was more cold and distant than it had been since Frank had met him. Frank didn’t get it. He’d made that first report, he must have wanted to get justice for what that Sentinel had done to him. It hadn’t worked out then, but Frank was serious about sticking up for him.
“It’s wrong,” Frank insisted. “He shouldn’t get away with it. There’s nothing to stop him doing it again,” he added as an afterthought.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Ray barked, and Frank jumped.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, going red.
“It’s over!” Ray snapped. “It’s done. Let it go. I’m not, not talking about this. Just... I need to go.” He turned and swept out of the room, leaving Frank behind trying to make sense of what had happened.
************
The room Ray shared with Frank was the most private place in the dorm, and since Iero was in there and Ray didn’t want to be anywhere near him, that didn’t leave many other places where he could go to get some space. He grabbed some window cleaner and started cleaning the windows across the dorm, as far from Iero’s room as he could manage. If he sat in a corner and brooded, someone would notice, but Ray had learned that cleaning made him practically invisible.
It took some time, but as Ray calmed down he realised how badly he’d screwed up. He shouldn’t have yelled at Iero. Sure, Iero had been nice to him, had overlooked any number of behaviours that other Sentinels would have taken issue with. But no Sentinel would tolerate their Guide yelling at them. Not even Iero. Especially not when he’d only been trying to help.
Ray understood that Iero wanted to help. He appreciated the thought; there just wasn’t any point, anything that Iero could do. He might think otherwise, but Ray knew better. He hoped Iero would give up on the idea; he could, if he wanted, simply order Ray to go along with his ill-conceived idea of approaching G-TAC about reopening the investigation. That would put Ray in the awkward position of either pissing off his Sentinel or G-TAC, and either option probably ended with Soler carrying through on his threat to stick Ray with the worst Sentinel he could find. It was hard to imagine someone more unpleasant than Stephens, but he knew they were out there.
The future looked pretty bleak, so Ray knew what he should be doing was sucking up to Iero and making the most of this time out, however brief it might end up being. But he’d completely stuffed that up too. Maybe they were right about Guides not being able to take care of themselves. Surely no one with any sense of self-preservation would have screwed things up this badly.
It hadn’t been fair of Iero to bring up the idea that Connell might do to his next Guide what he’d done to Ray, though. That had pushed Ray over the edge.
It was normal for Guides to keep notes on their Sentinels, and pass them along to other Guides. A lot of Sentinels didn’t like it, didn’t like the idea of Guides writing about them or passing messages about them. Usually, Guides had to hide their notes in the belongings or home of their Sentinel. Ray had found notes from Connell’s previous Guide hidden in the linen cupboard. They’d been brief, sparse even. A short list of chemical irritants and some suggestions for alternatives. Ray had been annoyed at the time, frustrated that the Guide hadn’t bothered to go into more detail.
When Ray was about to be reassigned, he’d sat down to write notes for the new Guide. He’d wanted to give them something better, more useful. He just hadn’t known where to start. He’d got as far as ‘He...’ the first time. The second time, ‘Don’t...’, and the third time, ‘Just...’
In the end, he’d taken the old notes on their single page and tucked them back in between the towels in the cupboard. They were better than nothing.
Ray could usually finish cleaning all the windows in under an hour, but he managed to stretch the task to more than two. He wasn’t at all eager to go back and face the music. He meant to put it off as long as possible.
He went back to the room eventually. Iero was reading at the desk; when Ray came in he hastily stuffed some papers back into a folder and shoved it into a drawer. He must have been concentrating hard if he hadn’t heard Ray coming, because he obviously didn’t want Ray to know what he was reading. It was probably Ray’s file. Iero was probably trying to figure out the best way to punish him; trying to pick up some tips from Stephens. That was the sort of thing they encouraged new Sentinels to do. Ray felt sick.
Iero sprang up from the desk chair and said, “Ray! Are you... alright? You feel better?”
Ray just blinked at him in confusion. Iero wasn’t supposed to care about that.
“I know... we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I wanted to say I’m sorry. For upsetting you earlier.”
It was nice that Iero wasn’t yelling at him like he’d expected, but Ray was getting tired of his actions just not making any sense. It was all just... making him tired.
“I should apologise,” he said anyway, because it was the thing to say. “I overreacted. I should have been more respectful.”
“You had every reason to be mad,” Iero answered, although Ray noticed he didn’t comment on the disrespect thing. “It’s not my business. I won’t pry again.”
Iero looked so mournful that Ray couldn’t help responding to him. “I accept your apology, sir.”
“Frank,” Iero corrected, looking just as sad.
Right. Ray wasn’t too sure about that. Iero was trying and he wasn’t a jerk or anything, but he was still a Sentinel. Ray couldn’t afford to forget that again.
Part Three