Cross Into the Blue Part Four
Please see the masterpost for warnings.
Part Three
It wasn't as far down as Ray had feared. The car rolled once, twice, a third time before it smashed to a halt against the ground. Ray groaned. Being tossed around in the car had hurt and he was breathing hard from fright. The seatbelt cut painfully into his chest, because the car wasn't level and it was the only thing holding him in his seat.
Ray looked for Frank. He was still there, buckled into his seat, not moving, blood covering half his face. "Frank?" Ray whispered, because it hurt to speak any louder.
Frank didn't respond, lying in a heap against the window. Ray reached for him, his fingertips searching for the pulse point at Frank's throat. It took him a moment to find it and he began to panic, a sharp stab of despair threatening to overwhelm him. Frank couldn't be dead. Ray wouldn't allow it. And then he finally found Frank's pulse, faint and irregular, but it was there. Ray sobbed with relief.
There was nothing he could do for Frank in the car, so Ray started looking around to try to see what he could of where they'd landed. It was still dark out, and foggy. The car's headlights were off, and Ray reached over to try to flick them back on. He toggled the lever up and down, but nothing happened. The headlights had to be broken.
Well, if that wouldn't work he'd need to figure out how to get himself out of the car. Ray shifted slightly in his seat. He tested the seatbelt and tentatively unbuckled it. It was a relief to not have it wrapped so tightly around him anymore, but he had to brace himself with his arms so that he didn't fall down and land on Frank. He grabbed the handle of the car door and gave it an experimental tug. The handle gave but the door wouldn't budge, although Ray shoved as hard as he could.
It was hard to tell in the gloom, but he guessed that the door might be bent out of shape too badly to open. He would have to try to get into the backseat and try the other doors. It would be awkward. He didn't want to risk falling on Frank and worsening whatever injuries he might have.
Ray twisted his head around and tried to figure out how to squeeze himself between the two front seats. He thought if he could grab the back headrest on the driver's side, he could probably pull himself towards it and turn himself around once he was on the backseat. It would be tight and awkward, but he could manage it. He shifted to the side and stretched his arm out, twisting in the seat so that he could get both hands on the headrest. His torso turned just fine, but his legs didn't want to move. He gave an experimental tug, but he seemed to be stuck. Ray looked back down towards his feet. He couldn't really see anything, but when he felt with his hands he found that the foot well was all smashed in, metal wrapped around his feet.
Ray considered it. He had to get out; they needed to find help somehow. He wrapped his hands around his left calf and tried to pull it free, but a spark of blazing agony shot up his leg at the attempt. He froze and cried out, his voice hoarse from the pain.
The sound woke Frank, or maybe he was coming around anyway, Ray didn't know. His eyelids fluttered and he whimpered. Ray leaned back down towards him.
"Frank?" he said.
Frank looked like he was hurting. His face was screwed up and his eyes were firmly shut. "Ray?" he mumbled.
"Oh, thank God." Ray put a hand to Frank's forehead, trying to avoid the site of the injury, and smoothed a thumb across his brow. "I was so worried."
"Wha' happened?" Frank asked. "We still in Jersey?"
"Colorado," Ray said, feeling a little worried. Frank had hit his head pretty hard. It made sense that he'd be a bit confused. Ray just hoped it wasn't a sign of something more serious.
"'s dark."
"You've got your eyes closed," Ray pointed out with a hint of amusement. Frank gave a derisive snort. "But yes. It is dark."
"Need help."
"Yeah." Ray looked back up where they'd fallen down. "It's foggy. I don't think anyone will see us down here until the fog clears in the morning."
"Won' see us."
"No." Ray had an idea. "They might hear us, though." He reached over to the steering wheel and found the horn, pushing it as hard as he could. He gave a few good blasts before Frank screamed.
"Stop! Fuck, stop!" Frank yelled. He had covered one ear with his hand but his other arm remained at his side. "Too loud."
Shit. If Frank's hearing was spiking, something was seriously wrong. Ray pulled his hand away from the steering wheel and put it to Frank's chin. He would have taken Frank's hand but he wasn't moving the one closest to him which made Ray think it was injured somehow. He opened a working link and said, softly, "Tell me what's going on, Frank. Where are your dials?"
Frank just groaned in response, so Ray added, "What's bothering you? Hearing, touch? Anything else?"
"Everything," Frank gasped. "It's all..."
"Okay," said Ray quickly. "Let's work on your hearing." Touch was probably a more urgent problem, but Ray hoped that Frank's excellent control over his hearing would make that an easier place to begin. "Right now, everything's way too loud, like the Concorde, right? But it's flying away, and it gets softer as it flies. It's in the distance, and you can only just hear it..."
He kept going until Frank was able to bring his hearing back down to a normal level, and then worked on his sense of touch and finally sight. He wasn't having too many problems with scent and taste, which Ray was thankful for, but the other three senses were affected severely enough that it took the best part of an hour to bring them under control.
"What now?" Frank asked, once his senses had stopped spiking.
"We'll have to wait for someone to find us," said Ray. "Neither of us can get out."
"How long?" Frank wondered. Ray checked his watch again.
"It's a little after midnight," he said. "Sunrise should be around seven, and then this fog’s got to burn off... There's got to be some sort of marks where we went off the road, though. Skid marks, or tracks in the dirt. Someone will see if they come this way."
"If," Frank repeated.
"Yeah," Ray agreed reluctantly. "It doesn't seem like this road gets a whole lot of use." If it did, they'd probably invest in more guardrails for it. Looking over at Frank, Ray could see he seemed quite discouraged. "They're expecting us to turn up for training tomorrow," he pointed out. "When we don't arrive, they'll come looking for us. We just have to hang in there."
Frank didn't respond to that, and Ray thought he was just frustrated until he noticed Frank's stillness, his unblinking gaze. "Frank?" he asked, and then realised he was in a zone. "Shit," he muttered. Ray figured the zone was probably caused by the pain, and so he started to talk to Frank in a soft voice, reaching for Frank through the link he was maintaining. Eventually, Frank came out of the zone with a muffled sound of pain.
"Sorry," Ray said. "You zoned."
"Hurts," said Frank.
They spent a bit longer going over Frank's dials once more, trying to bring them back under his control. When he seemed to be coping a bit better, Ray said, "Can you tell where you're hurt? Maybe get an idea of what's going on?"
Frank concentrated. "It's my legs," he said. "And my arm hurts, too. And when I breathe. It's mostly my legs, though. They hurt pretty bad. Really bad, actually. Ah, shit!" He twitched in his seat, and Ray cursed, searching for Frank's dials for a third time. He stopped asking Frank questions after that. It was obvious that thinking about the pain negated Frank's ability to keep it under control.
That set a theme for the rest of the night. Ray and Frank would spend a while stabilising one of his senses, and a minute or two after that was done, one of the other senses would start to spike and that would inevitably lead Frank's sense of touch to spiral out of control along with it. A couple of times, Frank heard cars pass them by on the road above. He didn't hear them soon enough for Ray to lean on the horn again, but they decided to try bringing Frank's hearing up so that he could hear them coming from further away. It didn't really work out, though. As Frank's hearing edged up, his other senses did the same, and Ray was back to helping Frank manage the pain.
Ray was exhausted by the time the sky began to lighten. Frank noticed the sun rising too, and said, "Oh, thank fuck." Watching the horizon slowly change colour at least gave them something to do, but it also made it pretty clear just how thick the fog still was.
"It's going to take a while for this to burn off," Ray said. "We've got a bit longer to wait." Frank grumbled and thumped his head back against the seat, which made him gasp in pain. Ray rolled his eyes, but he felt the same frustration. The accident had happened nearly twelve hours ago. They'd been waiting in the dark ever since then, with periodic sensory spikes on Frank's end, linked up for the entire time because of it.
Shit. They'd been linked for nearly twelve hours. In his panic over the predicament, Ray had forgotten why that was a bad idea. He tore his hand away from Frank's, alarm making his movements jerky.
"What is it?" Frank asked, fuzzily, seeming disoriented at the abrupt breaking of the link. "Ray?"
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. They couldn't be bonded. They hadn't been linked long enough. Sure, twelve hours might be all it took for some pairs, but that was really rare. They were fine.
"Ray?" Frank repeated, a whine creeping into his voice. "C'mon. It hurts." He reached across with his good hand. Ray hesitated over resuming the link. It was illogical. It had been broken. There was no danger now in linking up again. But for a second he regarded Frank's hand as warily as he would a snake. Frank's breath was catching and Ray felt guilty, his reluctance crumbling. He grabbed Frank's hand and opened the link again.
"What's wrong?" Frank asked, once he could speak easily. "Your heartbeat's racing." Ray looked for the right words to explain his worry, but none came to him. After a minute, Frank seemed to reach the right conclusion on his own. "Oh," he said. "Shit."
"I'm sorry!" Ray said quickly. "I didn't think... you were really hurting, and I forgot..."
"It's fine," Frank said quickly. "It's fine." He looked serious, but said, "I didn't think of it either. So... does that mean, uh... are we bonded, now?"
"No!" said Ray at once. "No. Definitely not. It hasn't been long enough."
Frank looked dubious, though. His expression became one of concentration, and then Ray felt something. He felt it in his mind, a tug, like the plucking of a guitar string. He felt it right down his spine, and he could follow it back to Frank.
“Dude,” said Frank slowly. “We’re totally bonded.”
Ray shook his head but Frank just barrelled on. “We are!” he said. “I can feel it.” And Ray felt that tug in his mind again.
That was the last straw, and Ray’s panic and guilt broke out of him in a flood. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! I just... you were hurt, and I wanted to help you...”
“Ray,” said Frank. “Ray! Ray, it’s fine. It’s fine, I’m not mad. I’m not.”
Ray shook his head, because if Frank wasn’t angry, it was probably because he didn’t really understand. “We can’t break it,” he said desperately. “The bond is permanent. Only one of us dying would break it.”
“I know,” said Frank. “I’m sorry. I guess this isn’t exactly what you would have wanted.” He looked sad, saying that, and even a little hurt, and Ray didn’t know how to make it right. With Frank, he never knew what to do.
“That’s not...” he started, then changed tacks to “I’m glad... it’s an honour. But. You should have been able to, to choose. To decide.”
Frank considered that. “Okay,” he said. He took a deep breath, then coughed and groaned when breathing aggravated some of his unseen injuries. Ray focused on helping him bring his senses back under control for the next few minutes, but after that Frank started right up again.
“I guess I should have had a choice, but you know that applies to you as well, right?” he asked, seriously. Ray shrugged. Sure, he should have had a choice, but he was in no position to make Frank’s life miserable if he wasn’t happy with the way things turned out. Frank, on the other hand...
"I was thinking about it," Frank admitted after a moment. "I didn't ask you because, well... we haven't known each other for long, not really. I didn't want to, like, make things awkward for you. But I did think about it."
Ray sighed. "It's not just theoretical now," he said.
"No. Fuck. I'm really sorry."
"You don't have to apologise."
"Of course I do. You got this huge choice taken out of your hands, just because you were trying to help me."
“No,” said Ray automatically, and then, because Frank had been honest with him, he steeled himself to return the favour. “I’m happy to be... I would have said yes. When you asked me. I would have said yes."
"Oh," said Frank, looking surprised, like it had never occurred to him that Ray might want to bond with him. Of course it hadn't, Ray figured. Frank was special like that. "I'd kiss you right now," Frank said, "But I can't fucking move."
And to that, there was nothing Ray could do but laugh. "We'll get a chance," he said. "Later." They really would.
***************
It was an hour or so after that that someone found the spot on the road where they'd gone over the side. It took another four to get a medical team down with the right equipment to get Frank and Ray out of the wreckage and into an ambulance. The paramedics had wanted to split them up, but had backed down when Ray said, "He's my Sentinel."
Hearing Ray say that, describing Frank as his, was like a silver lining on the whole shitty experience. And the paramedics laid off and didn't even suggest splitting them up again. No one would be able to separate them now if they didn't want to be. Frank would never have to worry about what would become of Ray after he was reassigned.
The ambulance raced along the narrow mountain roads a lot faster than Frank would have thought safe, but he supposed the ambulance driver knew the roads pretty well. He'd gathered from overhearing snippets of conversation that accidents weren't exactly uncommon in the area.
When they arrived at the hospital they were raced through to be examined. They had to wheel out a stretcher for Ray, because he'd been sitting up next to Frank in the back of the ambulance, but he couldn't walk. It turned out his foot was broken.
Frank had three broken ribs and a broken wrist, because when the car had rolled he'd used that arm to protect his face. The worst injuries were to his legs. The right leg was broken in two places, which sucked. His left leg, though, had been pierced by a piece of the wrecked car when it landed, and the doctor was quick to point out that it was only the pressure of the crumpled front of the car against his legs that had kept him from bleeding to death.
They wanted to take him for surgery, and they weren't going to let Ray come along for that. Frank knew it would be fine. He was going to be fine, and Ray was going to be fine. The doctors were going to look after both of them. That didn't mean he was eager to be separated from Ray.
After ten or so minutes of Frank thinking he was ready to be taken to the operating theatre and then realising that he needed to wait for just one more minute, they decided to start the anaesthetic right there so Ray could stay with him until he was unconscious. Frank had a feeling he was going to be pretty embarrassed about that once it was all over, but right then he didn't really care. The doctor asked him to count backwards from one hundred, and Frank did, but he kept his eyes on Ray the whole time.
**************
As soon as Frank was gone, and they set Ray’s foot and put it in plaster and got him dosed up on the good stuff, Ray grabbed the phone by his bed and called Frank’s mom. He made sure to begin with the important news - that Frank was okay - and then explained what had happened. She was understandably upset.
“Should I fly out there, Ray, do you think?” she asked anxiously.
Ray hesitated, not sure how to answer. He knew that the plane ticket would be expensive and that Frank’s mom wasn’t exactly well off. On the other hand, Frank and his mom were close, and Ray was sure he’d want to be near her right now.
“Why don’t I get Frank to give you a call once he’s out of surgery and awake?” Ray suggested. “You two can talk it over.”
After that, Ray had to take on the task of calling the Initial Flight Training facility to explain what had happened. It was already after three in the afternoon, so they had probably already guessed that something was wrong. He explained that they had been in an accident, and that Frank had been badly hurt. He didn’t go into details about Frank’s injuries; the doctors hadn’t said a whole lot and Ray wanted to make sure their superiors got the right information straight from the source.
It was hours later, when Ray was sitting by Frank’s bed watching him sleep, that someone came into the room. He was wearing Air Force blues and his insignia identified him as an SRB liaison, so Ray sat up straight and said, “Sir.”
The newcomer looked at him with a raised eyebrow, probably because Ray hadn’t stood up. Ray set his jaw and remained sitting. The guy had to have noticed that he was sitting in a wheelchair. The doctor had given him strict instructions about staying off his feet.
“Guide Toro, I presume,” said the liaison primly.
“Yes, sir.”
“I am Captain Edgell. I was assigned to be Lieutenant Iero’s liaison during his training in Colorado.” The captain fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. He didn’t ask about Ray’s injuries, or Frank’s, for that matter.
“I have spoken with Lieutenant Iero’s doctor. He’s informed me that the Lieutenant’s injuries are such that he will be on medical leave for several months. I expect G-TAC will move to reassign you within the next few days.”
Ray cleared his throat, feeling abruptly nervous. “That won’t be possible, sir,” he said.
The captain blinked at him for a few moments, not comprehending. He wasn’t a Sentinel, or a Guide. He wouldn’t be able to sense the bond without being told. But Ray could definitely see the moment when he figured it out.
“You’ve...” he began, gaping slightly. “Why, you opportunistic little bastard!”
“Sir...” Ray began, shifting forward in his seat.
“Hold your tongue, Guide.” Edgell bristled like an angry cat. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Oh, I’ve read your file. I can’t imagine what they were thinking back in Georgia, letting you get your hooks into such an inexperienced Sentinel, but it all worked out for you, didn’t it?”
“It was an accident,” Ray interjected quickly.
“Don’t talk!” Edgell barked. The noise woke Frank, who twitched and stirred, a slight moan coming from his lips. Ray looked down at him, relieved that Edgell’s attention had been diverted, but concerned for Frank. He put a hand to Frank’s shoulder, even though the force of Edgell’s rage was a palpable force from across the room.
“Whu?” Frank asked fuzzily. “Where ‘m I?”
“Hospital,” said Ray. “Do you remember what happened?”
Frank blinked, quite slowly, and at last he replied, “Car accident.”
“That’s right,” said Ray soothingly. Before he could go on to explain that Frank was going to be okay, Edgell butted in.
“That’s right,” he said. “Lieutenant, do you remember who was driving the car when you crashed?”
Ray kept his face tilted down and hoped that no one would notice how furious he suddenly was. Being accused of bonding with Frank deliberately when he was too out of it to resist was one thing, but to have this man suggesting that he’d orchestrated the accident deliberately left him breathless with rage.
“Driving?” Frank said. “Dunno. Was it me? ‘m sorry.” He looked so mournful that Ray couldn’t help but try to comfort him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. Edgell couldn’t do anything to him anyway. The paramedics would be able to confirm he hadn’t been driving.
“No, indeed,” said Edgell. “No blame will attach itself to you, Lieutenant. It is simply a sad misfortune that you appear to have given trust where it was not deserved.”
Frank blinked again, trying to parse all that, and finally said, “Don’ like you. Go ‘way.”
Ray looked down again, this time to hide his amusement. Edgell looked taken aback, and looking at his puzzled expression just made the urge to laugh stronger. Finally, Ray got himself under control and said, “My Sentinel requires rest, sir. Could we continue this another time?”
No matter how much of an asshole Edgell was, he couldn’t criticise a guide for doing what he needed to in order to care for his Sentinel. Edgell looked like he was sucking a lemon, but he said, clearly reluctantly, “Of course. I will return tomorrow. There will be consequences from this, have no doubt.” He stalked out the door in a huff, and Ray breathed much easier once he was gone.
**************
Frank had a feeling he’d overslept. His head felt groggy, like it did when he’d spent too long in restless sleep. His eyelids were sticky and reluctant to open, but he managed to force them apart.
A hospital room was what greeted his eyes. Not particularly encouraging. Ray was sitting by the bed, though. That was more like it.
“Hey,” Frank said, startled to hear his voice come out rough and gritty. Ray looked up, eyes widening, and shuffled forward in his seat. Frank tried to ask a question and coughed, the dryness of his mouth making it hard to speak. Ray helped him drink a few sips of water and finally Frank managed to ask, “What’s up?”
Ray gave him a doubtful look, like he thought Frank was taking the piss or something. “Your surgery went fine,” he said. “You’ve got pins in your right leg and stitches in your left. You won’t be doing much walking for a while.”
Frank nodded. That was more or less what he’d expected.
“They think you’ll need at least two months of medical leave, and maybe more physio after that,” Ray added. “The doctors were wondering what you’d want to do - go home while you recover? The Air Force will probably go for it. Save them having to put you up.”
“That... sounds pretty good,” Frank said.
“We might be able to get the Air Force to pay for the travel as well,” Ray added. “Since we were travelling to training when the accident happened.”
“Cool,” Frank said, before yawning hugely. The few minutes of conversation were already wearing him out.
“And your mom wants you to call. She’s really worried.”
Frank groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to his mother. He just felt too tired to talk to her and reassure her that he was okay. He closed his eyes, meaning to get just a few minutes of rest before he called.
**************
It was only three days before the hospital agreed to discharge Frank and declared him safe to fly. To Frank, it felt like three years.
Frank knew that his mother had tried to keep calm for his sake, but he could tell how upset and worried she was. He tried to reassure her that he was fine, but it wasn’t easy. Explaining about being bonded had also been tricky, and had led him to describe the accident which had led to it, which had made her more upset. Frank just hoped that once he got home, she would accept that he was actually okay and not at death’s door.
The hospital wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Aside from all the irritating chemical smells and constantly being disturbed by doctors needing to check his vitals at ass o’clock in the morning, (Frank wasn’t sure why they couldn’t just wait until after lunch, when normal people were awake) he had to put up with daily visits from some SRB cretin named Edgell who had a bug up his butt about Frank and Ray being bonded. Ray told him that he’d actually met Edgell while waking up from the anaesthetic after surgery; Frank couldn’t remember but took Ray’s word for it. When Frank asked if the man had made a better first impression that time around Ray had snickered and looked away.
The daily visits were tiresome, but eventually Frank convinced himself to see them as a good thing. Edgell wouldn’t be so pissed off if there were anything he could actually do. He’d got in touch with Captain Boyd back in Georgia to whine about Frank’s bond, and Frank had had to put up with a phone call from him explaining why everything Frank was doing was terrible and stupid, but again, he hadn’t made any specific threats, just offered dire warnings about Frank’s future. “We’re going to be keeping a very close eye on you two,” Boyd had said, and Frank, who had been tired and hurting by that point, had replied “You do that, sir.”
Frank might have been able to get the Air Force to fork out the money for two plane tickets back to New Jersey, but he didn’t want to bother with it. He decided he’d deal with it later and paid for the tickets himself. It ended up being three seats, so that he’d have room to stretch his leg out.
The flight was kind of a drag. They both had to be helped onto the plane and it got uncomfortable really quickly. Ray was able to help when Frank’s injuries began to ache and he got restless, but he wished he could just get up and move around. Ray looked over at him anxiously every twenty seconds or so as though he was worried Frank might disappear.
“Something wrong?” Frank asked, once they were in the air and Ray still hadn't relaxed. “Does flying bother you?”
“No,” said Ray. “I was just worried about you... not all Sentinels handle flying well.”
“Really?” said Frank. “Why not?”
“I don't know. I think it's something to do with the air pressure. And all the people in your personal space.”
“Huh.” Frank looked around the crowded cabin. “I dunno. I don't mind flying. Just as well, really, what with the pilot training and everything.”
Ray laughed. “I suppose so.”
It wasn’t a terribly long flight - not quite five hours - and when they reached Newark Airport flight attendants helped Frank into a wheelchair and got them both off the plane safely.
Frank’s mom was waiting when they reached the gate. She looked just like how he’d imagined, dressed in plain clothes but with her hair and makeup nicely done, like she always did when she was worried. She was standing back a little bit from the main group of people waiting, hands clasped tightly in front of her. When she saw Frank, her mouth dropped open and she froze. The flight attendant wheeled Frank towards her and he could see from a good way back that her eyes were brimming with tears. Frank shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He hated it when his mother cried.
“Oh my God, Frankie,” she whispered, taking his face in her hands. “Look at you.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” said Frank, shifting awkwardly. “Really. It’s not as bad as it looks. They think I’ll be back to normal in a few months.”
She sniffled and stroked his hair. “When I got that phone call telling me what had happened...”
“I’m fine.” Casting around for a distraction, Frank realised that Ray was standing behind him, hanging back just a little. “Mom, you should meet my Guide, Ray. Ray, this is Linda, my mom.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” said Ray, offering a hand for her to shake.
“It’s Linda,” she insisted. “Thank you so much for taking care of my baby boy.”
“Mom,” Frank groaned, “it’s Lieutenant Iero now, if you don’t mind.”
Linda rolled her eyes at him and took charge of the wheelchair, leading the way to the car. Getting Frank inside was pretty awkward, because as little as he was, Linda was even smaller, and Ray, still on crutches, couldn’t help much. But they managed it in the end and were on their way at last.
The traffic back to Belleville wasn’t too bad. As they got closer to home and reached the familiar streets which led to the house, Frank found himself becoming more and more eager to arrive. He’d only been away for a few months, but everything seemed different. Smaller, and older, but seeing everything again Frank was struck by how much he’d missed it.
Getting out of the car was as awkward as getting into it, and manoeuvring the wheelchair through the house was another challenge. Linda had set up the fold-out sofa in the living room for Frank and told Ray he could sleep in Frank’s bedroom upstairs. Frank wasn’t thrilled with having to sleep in the living room, but he thought Ray seemed even more displeased about the prospect of sleeping in Frank’s bed. He wondered why.
Once they got him settled on the fold-out bed, with a blanket over his lap and the television remote on the side table, Frank felt his eyelids grow heavy. He sort of wanted to stay awake a bit longer and enjoy being home, but Ray was standing by the sofa and looking at him with a concerned expression.
“Can I get you a drink, sir?” he asked. “Coffee? Soda?”
“I’m just going to have a nap,” said Frank, sinking into the mattress. “You should go do whatever. Relax.”
He thought Ray might have asked him another question, but he was too close to sleep to understand it.
****************
Since Frank was asleep, Ray left the room, trying to use his crutches quietly and not succeeding very well. Frank had to be tired, as he didn’t stir.
Mrs. Iero - Linda was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. “Can I help?” Ray offered.
Linda looked up from the onion she was chopping. “Oh, no,” she said. “You should be resting. Can you get upstairs okay? Why don’t you go have a nap.”
“I’m not tired,” Ray insisted, although he sort of was. Good thing Frank wasn’t awake to hear Ray lie to his mother. “And I’d like to help, if there’s anything I can do.”
“Well...” Linda looked thoughtful. “You could soak the lentils. If you look in the pantry, on the middle shelf...” With Linda’s directions, Ray eventually found the lentils and measured a cup into a bowl of hot water.
“What are you making?” he asked, trying to puzzle out the ingredients on the bench.
“Spaghetti, with a vegetarian bolognaise sauce for Frank.”
“Frank’s a vegetarian?” Ray asked, surprised. “He’s never said.” Ray thought back over the past few months. He was sure he’d seen Frank eating meat.
“Well, that’s something,” said Linda. “I’m glad he hasn’t been pestering you with complaints about having to eat meat during his training. I haven’t heard the end of it since he left!”
“Yeah, that must... be hard for him.”
“In his last letter he said the best part of finishing Officer Candidate School was getting closer to having his own kitchen facilities and being able to cook his own food.”
Ray tried to find a smile. “I bet.” Linda got him to grate a carrot while she sliced tomatoes, and he worked quietly, thinking hard. He could just about manage to burn a piece of steak so it was still edible. Most Sentinels preferred bland foods anyway, so his cooking skills had always been enough to get him by. Just barely, but still. But the sauce Linda was making already smelled delicious, even though it was just onions and garlic in a saucepan. She tossed in the diced tomatoes and Ray’s stomach growled. He knew that it was far beyond his skills to make meals like this, especially when he was going to need to learn an entirely new bunch of recipes to cater to Frank's vegetarian tastes. The prospect was intimidating.
“So, Frank says your parents live in Belleville too,” said Linda once the pasta was cooking and the sauce was simmering. “What did they say when you told them you were coming home?”
“Oh, uh... I haven’t called them yet, actually.” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, between everything that had been going on. His mother was going to be so pissed.
“You haven’t... Ray!” Linda exclaimed. Ray hunched his shoulders. “They’re going to want to see you! You should go call them right now!” She took the wooden spoon from his hand and nudged him away from the stove. “The phone’s on the counter.”
Ray wanted to put it off some more, but Linda looked kind of fierce. He had to face the music some time.
“So what’s pilot training like?” Ray’s mother asked when he got her on the phone.
“You know, it’s not actually me who’s doing the... um. Never mind.” Ray tried to think. “That’s actually been delayed for a while.”
“Why, is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Um, not really. It’s just that there was a small car accident on the way.”
“Oh my goodness, were you hurt?”
“No,” said Ray again. “No, I’m fine. Totally fine. But Frank was a bit banged around, so they’ve delayed his training for a while so he can get better.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah, it’s... but anyway, the bright side is that they decided to send Frank home while he’s healing, and Frank lives in Belleville!”
“Oh!” said Ray’s mother, her voice getting louder. “Oh, Ray! You’re coming home?”
“Yeah,” said Ray, unable to hold back a smile at hearing his mother so happy.
“So are you flying? When does your plane arrive?”
“The plane?” Ray asked nervously, trying to ignore the feel of Linda’s eyes on the back of his head. “Uh, well, it arrived at half past four. This afternoon.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, except for the sound of Ray’s mother breathing, something he recognised as a sign she was deciding to let something go.
“Four thirty this afternoon,” she said evenly. “Okay.” Ray winced, but before he could apologise she said, “I don’t understand, they’re going to have you stay with Frank while he’s getting better? They’re not sending you off somewhere else?”
Ray fiddled with the phone cord nervously. “Uh, yeah, that’s the other thing...”
Part Five
Part Three
It wasn't as far down as Ray had feared. The car rolled once, twice, a third time before it smashed to a halt against the ground. Ray groaned. Being tossed around in the car had hurt and he was breathing hard from fright. The seatbelt cut painfully into his chest, because the car wasn't level and it was the only thing holding him in his seat.
Ray looked for Frank. He was still there, buckled into his seat, not moving, blood covering half his face. "Frank?" Ray whispered, because it hurt to speak any louder.
Frank didn't respond, lying in a heap against the window. Ray reached for him, his fingertips searching for the pulse point at Frank's throat. It took him a moment to find it and he began to panic, a sharp stab of despair threatening to overwhelm him. Frank couldn't be dead. Ray wouldn't allow it. And then he finally found Frank's pulse, faint and irregular, but it was there. Ray sobbed with relief.
There was nothing he could do for Frank in the car, so Ray started looking around to try to see what he could of where they'd landed. It was still dark out, and foggy. The car's headlights were off, and Ray reached over to try to flick them back on. He toggled the lever up and down, but nothing happened. The headlights had to be broken.
Well, if that wouldn't work he'd need to figure out how to get himself out of the car. Ray shifted slightly in his seat. He tested the seatbelt and tentatively unbuckled it. It was a relief to not have it wrapped so tightly around him anymore, but he had to brace himself with his arms so that he didn't fall down and land on Frank. He grabbed the handle of the car door and gave it an experimental tug. The handle gave but the door wouldn't budge, although Ray shoved as hard as he could.
It was hard to tell in the gloom, but he guessed that the door might be bent out of shape too badly to open. He would have to try to get into the backseat and try the other doors. It would be awkward. He didn't want to risk falling on Frank and worsening whatever injuries he might have.
Ray twisted his head around and tried to figure out how to squeeze himself between the two front seats. He thought if he could grab the back headrest on the driver's side, he could probably pull himself towards it and turn himself around once he was on the backseat. It would be tight and awkward, but he could manage it. He shifted to the side and stretched his arm out, twisting in the seat so that he could get both hands on the headrest. His torso turned just fine, but his legs didn't want to move. He gave an experimental tug, but he seemed to be stuck. Ray looked back down towards his feet. He couldn't really see anything, but when he felt with his hands he found that the foot well was all smashed in, metal wrapped around his feet.
Ray considered it. He had to get out; they needed to find help somehow. He wrapped his hands around his left calf and tried to pull it free, but a spark of blazing agony shot up his leg at the attempt. He froze and cried out, his voice hoarse from the pain.
The sound woke Frank, or maybe he was coming around anyway, Ray didn't know. His eyelids fluttered and he whimpered. Ray leaned back down towards him.
"Frank?" he said.
Frank looked like he was hurting. His face was screwed up and his eyes were firmly shut. "Ray?" he mumbled.
"Oh, thank God." Ray put a hand to Frank's forehead, trying to avoid the site of the injury, and smoothed a thumb across his brow. "I was so worried."
"Wha' happened?" Frank asked. "We still in Jersey?"
"Colorado," Ray said, feeling a little worried. Frank had hit his head pretty hard. It made sense that he'd be a bit confused. Ray just hoped it wasn't a sign of something more serious.
"'s dark."
"You've got your eyes closed," Ray pointed out with a hint of amusement. Frank gave a derisive snort. "But yes. It is dark."
"Need help."
"Yeah." Ray looked back up where they'd fallen down. "It's foggy. I don't think anyone will see us down here until the fog clears in the morning."
"Won' see us."
"No." Ray had an idea. "They might hear us, though." He reached over to the steering wheel and found the horn, pushing it as hard as he could. He gave a few good blasts before Frank screamed.
"Stop! Fuck, stop!" Frank yelled. He had covered one ear with his hand but his other arm remained at his side. "Too loud."
Shit. If Frank's hearing was spiking, something was seriously wrong. Ray pulled his hand away from the steering wheel and put it to Frank's chin. He would have taken Frank's hand but he wasn't moving the one closest to him which made Ray think it was injured somehow. He opened a working link and said, softly, "Tell me what's going on, Frank. Where are your dials?"
Frank just groaned in response, so Ray added, "What's bothering you? Hearing, touch? Anything else?"
"Everything," Frank gasped. "It's all..."
"Okay," said Ray quickly. "Let's work on your hearing." Touch was probably a more urgent problem, but Ray hoped that Frank's excellent control over his hearing would make that an easier place to begin. "Right now, everything's way too loud, like the Concorde, right? But it's flying away, and it gets softer as it flies. It's in the distance, and you can only just hear it..."
He kept going until Frank was able to bring his hearing back down to a normal level, and then worked on his sense of touch and finally sight. He wasn't having too many problems with scent and taste, which Ray was thankful for, but the other three senses were affected severely enough that it took the best part of an hour to bring them under control.
"What now?" Frank asked, once his senses had stopped spiking.
"We'll have to wait for someone to find us," said Ray. "Neither of us can get out."
"How long?" Frank wondered. Ray checked his watch again.
"It's a little after midnight," he said. "Sunrise should be around seven, and then this fog’s got to burn off... There's got to be some sort of marks where we went off the road, though. Skid marks, or tracks in the dirt. Someone will see if they come this way."
"If," Frank repeated.
"Yeah," Ray agreed reluctantly. "It doesn't seem like this road gets a whole lot of use." If it did, they'd probably invest in more guardrails for it. Looking over at Frank, Ray could see he seemed quite discouraged. "They're expecting us to turn up for training tomorrow," he pointed out. "When we don't arrive, they'll come looking for us. We just have to hang in there."
Frank didn't respond to that, and Ray thought he was just frustrated until he noticed Frank's stillness, his unblinking gaze. "Frank?" he asked, and then realised he was in a zone. "Shit," he muttered. Ray figured the zone was probably caused by the pain, and so he started to talk to Frank in a soft voice, reaching for Frank through the link he was maintaining. Eventually, Frank came out of the zone with a muffled sound of pain.
"Sorry," Ray said. "You zoned."
"Hurts," said Frank.
They spent a bit longer going over Frank's dials once more, trying to bring them back under his control. When he seemed to be coping a bit better, Ray said, "Can you tell where you're hurt? Maybe get an idea of what's going on?"
Frank concentrated. "It's my legs," he said. "And my arm hurts, too. And when I breathe. It's mostly my legs, though. They hurt pretty bad. Really bad, actually. Ah, shit!" He twitched in his seat, and Ray cursed, searching for Frank's dials for a third time. He stopped asking Frank questions after that. It was obvious that thinking about the pain negated Frank's ability to keep it under control.
That set a theme for the rest of the night. Ray and Frank would spend a while stabilising one of his senses, and a minute or two after that was done, one of the other senses would start to spike and that would inevitably lead Frank's sense of touch to spiral out of control along with it. A couple of times, Frank heard cars pass them by on the road above. He didn't hear them soon enough for Ray to lean on the horn again, but they decided to try bringing Frank's hearing up so that he could hear them coming from further away. It didn't really work out, though. As Frank's hearing edged up, his other senses did the same, and Ray was back to helping Frank manage the pain.
Ray was exhausted by the time the sky began to lighten. Frank noticed the sun rising too, and said, "Oh, thank fuck." Watching the horizon slowly change colour at least gave them something to do, but it also made it pretty clear just how thick the fog still was.
"It's going to take a while for this to burn off," Ray said. "We've got a bit longer to wait." Frank grumbled and thumped his head back against the seat, which made him gasp in pain. Ray rolled his eyes, but he felt the same frustration. The accident had happened nearly twelve hours ago. They'd been waiting in the dark ever since then, with periodic sensory spikes on Frank's end, linked up for the entire time because of it.
Shit. They'd been linked for nearly twelve hours. In his panic over the predicament, Ray had forgotten why that was a bad idea. He tore his hand away from Frank's, alarm making his movements jerky.
"What is it?" Frank asked, fuzzily, seeming disoriented at the abrupt breaking of the link. "Ray?"
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. They couldn't be bonded. They hadn't been linked long enough. Sure, twelve hours might be all it took for some pairs, but that was really rare. They were fine.
"Ray?" Frank repeated, a whine creeping into his voice. "C'mon. It hurts." He reached across with his good hand. Ray hesitated over resuming the link. It was illogical. It had been broken. There was no danger now in linking up again. But for a second he regarded Frank's hand as warily as he would a snake. Frank's breath was catching and Ray felt guilty, his reluctance crumbling. He grabbed Frank's hand and opened the link again.
"What's wrong?" Frank asked, once he could speak easily. "Your heartbeat's racing." Ray looked for the right words to explain his worry, but none came to him. After a minute, Frank seemed to reach the right conclusion on his own. "Oh," he said. "Shit."
"I'm sorry!" Ray said quickly. "I didn't think... you were really hurting, and I forgot..."
"It's fine," Frank said quickly. "It's fine." He looked serious, but said, "I didn't think of it either. So... does that mean, uh... are we bonded, now?"
"No!" said Ray at once. "No. Definitely not. It hasn't been long enough."
Frank looked dubious, though. His expression became one of concentration, and then Ray felt something. He felt it in his mind, a tug, like the plucking of a guitar string. He felt it right down his spine, and he could follow it back to Frank.
“Dude,” said Frank slowly. “We’re totally bonded.”
Ray shook his head but Frank just barrelled on. “We are!” he said. “I can feel it.” And Ray felt that tug in his mind again.
That was the last straw, and Ray’s panic and guilt broke out of him in a flood. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! I just... you were hurt, and I wanted to help you...”
“Ray,” said Frank. “Ray! Ray, it’s fine. It’s fine, I’m not mad. I’m not.”
Ray shook his head, because if Frank wasn’t angry, it was probably because he didn’t really understand. “We can’t break it,” he said desperately. “The bond is permanent. Only one of us dying would break it.”
“I know,” said Frank. “I’m sorry. I guess this isn’t exactly what you would have wanted.” He looked sad, saying that, and even a little hurt, and Ray didn’t know how to make it right. With Frank, he never knew what to do.
“That’s not...” he started, then changed tacks to “I’m glad... it’s an honour. But. You should have been able to, to choose. To decide.”
Frank considered that. “Okay,” he said. He took a deep breath, then coughed and groaned when breathing aggravated some of his unseen injuries. Ray focused on helping him bring his senses back under control for the next few minutes, but after that Frank started right up again.
“I guess I should have had a choice, but you know that applies to you as well, right?” he asked, seriously. Ray shrugged. Sure, he should have had a choice, but he was in no position to make Frank’s life miserable if he wasn’t happy with the way things turned out. Frank, on the other hand...
"I was thinking about it," Frank admitted after a moment. "I didn't ask you because, well... we haven't known each other for long, not really. I didn't want to, like, make things awkward for you. But I did think about it."
Ray sighed. "It's not just theoretical now," he said.
"No. Fuck. I'm really sorry."
"You don't have to apologise."
"Of course I do. You got this huge choice taken out of your hands, just because you were trying to help me."
“No,” said Ray automatically, and then, because Frank had been honest with him, he steeled himself to return the favour. “I’m happy to be... I would have said yes. When you asked me. I would have said yes."
"Oh," said Frank, looking surprised, like it had never occurred to him that Ray might want to bond with him. Of course it hadn't, Ray figured. Frank was special like that. "I'd kiss you right now," Frank said, "But I can't fucking move."
And to that, there was nothing Ray could do but laugh. "We'll get a chance," he said. "Later." They really would.
***************
It was an hour or so after that that someone found the spot on the road where they'd gone over the side. It took another four to get a medical team down with the right equipment to get Frank and Ray out of the wreckage and into an ambulance. The paramedics had wanted to split them up, but had backed down when Ray said, "He's my Sentinel."
Hearing Ray say that, describing Frank as his, was like a silver lining on the whole shitty experience. And the paramedics laid off and didn't even suggest splitting them up again. No one would be able to separate them now if they didn't want to be. Frank would never have to worry about what would become of Ray after he was reassigned.
The ambulance raced along the narrow mountain roads a lot faster than Frank would have thought safe, but he supposed the ambulance driver knew the roads pretty well. He'd gathered from overhearing snippets of conversation that accidents weren't exactly uncommon in the area.
When they arrived at the hospital they were raced through to be examined. They had to wheel out a stretcher for Ray, because he'd been sitting up next to Frank in the back of the ambulance, but he couldn't walk. It turned out his foot was broken.
Frank had three broken ribs and a broken wrist, because when the car had rolled he'd used that arm to protect his face. The worst injuries were to his legs. The right leg was broken in two places, which sucked. His left leg, though, had been pierced by a piece of the wrecked car when it landed, and the doctor was quick to point out that it was only the pressure of the crumpled front of the car against his legs that had kept him from bleeding to death.
They wanted to take him for surgery, and they weren't going to let Ray come along for that. Frank knew it would be fine. He was going to be fine, and Ray was going to be fine. The doctors were going to look after both of them. That didn't mean he was eager to be separated from Ray.
After ten or so minutes of Frank thinking he was ready to be taken to the operating theatre and then realising that he needed to wait for just one more minute, they decided to start the anaesthetic right there so Ray could stay with him until he was unconscious. Frank had a feeling he was going to be pretty embarrassed about that once it was all over, but right then he didn't really care. The doctor asked him to count backwards from one hundred, and Frank did, but he kept his eyes on Ray the whole time.
**************
As soon as Frank was gone, and they set Ray’s foot and put it in plaster and got him dosed up on the good stuff, Ray grabbed the phone by his bed and called Frank’s mom. He made sure to begin with the important news - that Frank was okay - and then explained what had happened. She was understandably upset.
“Should I fly out there, Ray, do you think?” she asked anxiously.
Ray hesitated, not sure how to answer. He knew that the plane ticket would be expensive and that Frank’s mom wasn’t exactly well off. On the other hand, Frank and his mom were close, and Ray was sure he’d want to be near her right now.
“Why don’t I get Frank to give you a call once he’s out of surgery and awake?” Ray suggested. “You two can talk it over.”
After that, Ray had to take on the task of calling the Initial Flight Training facility to explain what had happened. It was already after three in the afternoon, so they had probably already guessed that something was wrong. He explained that they had been in an accident, and that Frank had been badly hurt. He didn’t go into details about Frank’s injuries; the doctors hadn’t said a whole lot and Ray wanted to make sure their superiors got the right information straight from the source.
It was hours later, when Ray was sitting by Frank’s bed watching him sleep, that someone came into the room. He was wearing Air Force blues and his insignia identified him as an SRB liaison, so Ray sat up straight and said, “Sir.”
The newcomer looked at him with a raised eyebrow, probably because Ray hadn’t stood up. Ray set his jaw and remained sitting. The guy had to have noticed that he was sitting in a wheelchair. The doctor had given him strict instructions about staying off his feet.
“Guide Toro, I presume,” said the liaison primly.
“Yes, sir.”
“I am Captain Edgell. I was assigned to be Lieutenant Iero’s liaison during his training in Colorado.” The captain fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. He didn’t ask about Ray’s injuries, or Frank’s, for that matter.
“I have spoken with Lieutenant Iero’s doctor. He’s informed me that the Lieutenant’s injuries are such that he will be on medical leave for several months. I expect G-TAC will move to reassign you within the next few days.”
Ray cleared his throat, feeling abruptly nervous. “That won’t be possible, sir,” he said.
The captain blinked at him for a few moments, not comprehending. He wasn’t a Sentinel, or a Guide. He wouldn’t be able to sense the bond without being told. But Ray could definitely see the moment when he figured it out.
“You’ve...” he began, gaping slightly. “Why, you opportunistic little bastard!”
“Sir...” Ray began, shifting forward in his seat.
“Hold your tongue, Guide.” Edgell bristled like an angry cat. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Oh, I’ve read your file. I can’t imagine what they were thinking back in Georgia, letting you get your hooks into such an inexperienced Sentinel, but it all worked out for you, didn’t it?”
“It was an accident,” Ray interjected quickly.
“Don’t talk!” Edgell barked. The noise woke Frank, who twitched and stirred, a slight moan coming from his lips. Ray looked down at him, relieved that Edgell’s attention had been diverted, but concerned for Frank. He put a hand to Frank’s shoulder, even though the force of Edgell’s rage was a palpable force from across the room.
“Whu?” Frank asked fuzzily. “Where ‘m I?”
“Hospital,” said Ray. “Do you remember what happened?”
Frank blinked, quite slowly, and at last he replied, “Car accident.”
“That’s right,” said Ray soothingly. Before he could go on to explain that Frank was going to be okay, Edgell butted in.
“That’s right,” he said. “Lieutenant, do you remember who was driving the car when you crashed?”
Ray kept his face tilted down and hoped that no one would notice how furious he suddenly was. Being accused of bonding with Frank deliberately when he was too out of it to resist was one thing, but to have this man suggesting that he’d orchestrated the accident deliberately left him breathless with rage.
“Driving?” Frank said. “Dunno. Was it me? ‘m sorry.” He looked so mournful that Ray couldn’t help but try to comfort him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. Edgell couldn’t do anything to him anyway. The paramedics would be able to confirm he hadn’t been driving.
“No, indeed,” said Edgell. “No blame will attach itself to you, Lieutenant. It is simply a sad misfortune that you appear to have given trust where it was not deserved.”
Frank blinked again, trying to parse all that, and finally said, “Don’ like you. Go ‘way.”
Ray looked down again, this time to hide his amusement. Edgell looked taken aback, and looking at his puzzled expression just made the urge to laugh stronger. Finally, Ray got himself under control and said, “My Sentinel requires rest, sir. Could we continue this another time?”
No matter how much of an asshole Edgell was, he couldn’t criticise a guide for doing what he needed to in order to care for his Sentinel. Edgell looked like he was sucking a lemon, but he said, clearly reluctantly, “Of course. I will return tomorrow. There will be consequences from this, have no doubt.” He stalked out the door in a huff, and Ray breathed much easier once he was gone.
**************
Frank had a feeling he’d overslept. His head felt groggy, like it did when he’d spent too long in restless sleep. His eyelids were sticky and reluctant to open, but he managed to force them apart.
A hospital room was what greeted his eyes. Not particularly encouraging. Ray was sitting by the bed, though. That was more like it.
“Hey,” Frank said, startled to hear his voice come out rough and gritty. Ray looked up, eyes widening, and shuffled forward in his seat. Frank tried to ask a question and coughed, the dryness of his mouth making it hard to speak. Ray helped him drink a few sips of water and finally Frank managed to ask, “What’s up?”
Ray gave him a doubtful look, like he thought Frank was taking the piss or something. “Your surgery went fine,” he said. “You’ve got pins in your right leg and stitches in your left. You won’t be doing much walking for a while.”
Frank nodded. That was more or less what he’d expected.
“They think you’ll need at least two months of medical leave, and maybe more physio after that,” Ray added. “The doctors were wondering what you’d want to do - go home while you recover? The Air Force will probably go for it. Save them having to put you up.”
“That... sounds pretty good,” Frank said.
“We might be able to get the Air Force to pay for the travel as well,” Ray added. “Since we were travelling to training when the accident happened.”
“Cool,” Frank said, before yawning hugely. The few minutes of conversation were already wearing him out.
“And your mom wants you to call. She’s really worried.”
Frank groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to his mother. He just felt too tired to talk to her and reassure her that he was okay. He closed his eyes, meaning to get just a few minutes of rest before he called.
**************
It was only three days before the hospital agreed to discharge Frank and declared him safe to fly. To Frank, it felt like three years.
Frank knew that his mother had tried to keep calm for his sake, but he could tell how upset and worried she was. He tried to reassure her that he was fine, but it wasn’t easy. Explaining about being bonded had also been tricky, and had led him to describe the accident which had led to it, which had made her more upset. Frank just hoped that once he got home, she would accept that he was actually okay and not at death’s door.
The hospital wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Aside from all the irritating chemical smells and constantly being disturbed by doctors needing to check his vitals at ass o’clock in the morning, (Frank wasn’t sure why they couldn’t just wait until after lunch, when normal people were awake) he had to put up with daily visits from some SRB cretin named Edgell who had a bug up his butt about Frank and Ray being bonded. Ray told him that he’d actually met Edgell while waking up from the anaesthetic after surgery; Frank couldn’t remember but took Ray’s word for it. When Frank asked if the man had made a better first impression that time around Ray had snickered and looked away.
The daily visits were tiresome, but eventually Frank convinced himself to see them as a good thing. Edgell wouldn’t be so pissed off if there were anything he could actually do. He’d got in touch with Captain Boyd back in Georgia to whine about Frank’s bond, and Frank had had to put up with a phone call from him explaining why everything Frank was doing was terrible and stupid, but again, he hadn’t made any specific threats, just offered dire warnings about Frank’s future. “We’re going to be keeping a very close eye on you two,” Boyd had said, and Frank, who had been tired and hurting by that point, had replied “You do that, sir.”
Frank might have been able to get the Air Force to fork out the money for two plane tickets back to New Jersey, but he didn’t want to bother with it. He decided he’d deal with it later and paid for the tickets himself. It ended up being three seats, so that he’d have room to stretch his leg out.
The flight was kind of a drag. They both had to be helped onto the plane and it got uncomfortable really quickly. Ray was able to help when Frank’s injuries began to ache and he got restless, but he wished he could just get up and move around. Ray looked over at him anxiously every twenty seconds or so as though he was worried Frank might disappear.
“Something wrong?” Frank asked, once they were in the air and Ray still hadn't relaxed. “Does flying bother you?”
“No,” said Ray. “I was just worried about you... not all Sentinels handle flying well.”
“Really?” said Frank. “Why not?”
“I don't know. I think it's something to do with the air pressure. And all the people in your personal space.”
“Huh.” Frank looked around the crowded cabin. “I dunno. I don't mind flying. Just as well, really, what with the pilot training and everything.”
Ray laughed. “I suppose so.”
It wasn’t a terribly long flight - not quite five hours - and when they reached Newark Airport flight attendants helped Frank into a wheelchair and got them both off the plane safely.
Frank’s mom was waiting when they reached the gate. She looked just like how he’d imagined, dressed in plain clothes but with her hair and makeup nicely done, like she always did when she was worried. She was standing back a little bit from the main group of people waiting, hands clasped tightly in front of her. When she saw Frank, her mouth dropped open and she froze. The flight attendant wheeled Frank towards her and he could see from a good way back that her eyes were brimming with tears. Frank shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He hated it when his mother cried.
“Oh my God, Frankie,” she whispered, taking his face in her hands. “Look at you.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” said Frank, shifting awkwardly. “Really. It’s not as bad as it looks. They think I’ll be back to normal in a few months.”
She sniffled and stroked his hair. “When I got that phone call telling me what had happened...”
“I’m fine.” Casting around for a distraction, Frank realised that Ray was standing behind him, hanging back just a little. “Mom, you should meet my Guide, Ray. Ray, this is Linda, my mom.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” said Ray, offering a hand for her to shake.
“It’s Linda,” she insisted. “Thank you so much for taking care of my baby boy.”
“Mom,” Frank groaned, “it’s Lieutenant Iero now, if you don’t mind.”
Linda rolled her eyes at him and took charge of the wheelchair, leading the way to the car. Getting Frank inside was pretty awkward, because as little as he was, Linda was even smaller, and Ray, still on crutches, couldn’t help much. But they managed it in the end and were on their way at last.
The traffic back to Belleville wasn’t too bad. As they got closer to home and reached the familiar streets which led to the house, Frank found himself becoming more and more eager to arrive. He’d only been away for a few months, but everything seemed different. Smaller, and older, but seeing everything again Frank was struck by how much he’d missed it.
Getting out of the car was as awkward as getting into it, and manoeuvring the wheelchair through the house was another challenge. Linda had set up the fold-out sofa in the living room for Frank and told Ray he could sleep in Frank’s bedroom upstairs. Frank wasn’t thrilled with having to sleep in the living room, but he thought Ray seemed even more displeased about the prospect of sleeping in Frank’s bed. He wondered why.
Once they got him settled on the fold-out bed, with a blanket over his lap and the television remote on the side table, Frank felt his eyelids grow heavy. He sort of wanted to stay awake a bit longer and enjoy being home, but Ray was standing by the sofa and looking at him with a concerned expression.
“Can I get you a drink, sir?” he asked. “Coffee? Soda?”
“I’m just going to have a nap,” said Frank, sinking into the mattress. “You should go do whatever. Relax.”
He thought Ray might have asked him another question, but he was too close to sleep to understand it.
****************
Since Frank was asleep, Ray left the room, trying to use his crutches quietly and not succeeding very well. Frank had to be tired, as he didn’t stir.
Mrs. Iero - Linda was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. “Can I help?” Ray offered.
Linda looked up from the onion she was chopping. “Oh, no,” she said. “You should be resting. Can you get upstairs okay? Why don’t you go have a nap.”
“I’m not tired,” Ray insisted, although he sort of was. Good thing Frank wasn’t awake to hear Ray lie to his mother. “And I’d like to help, if there’s anything I can do.”
“Well...” Linda looked thoughtful. “You could soak the lentils. If you look in the pantry, on the middle shelf...” With Linda’s directions, Ray eventually found the lentils and measured a cup into a bowl of hot water.
“What are you making?” he asked, trying to puzzle out the ingredients on the bench.
“Spaghetti, with a vegetarian bolognaise sauce for Frank.”
“Frank’s a vegetarian?” Ray asked, surprised. “He’s never said.” Ray thought back over the past few months. He was sure he’d seen Frank eating meat.
“Well, that’s something,” said Linda. “I’m glad he hasn’t been pestering you with complaints about having to eat meat during his training. I haven’t heard the end of it since he left!”
“Yeah, that must... be hard for him.”
“In his last letter he said the best part of finishing Officer Candidate School was getting closer to having his own kitchen facilities and being able to cook his own food.”
Ray tried to find a smile. “I bet.” Linda got him to grate a carrot while she sliced tomatoes, and he worked quietly, thinking hard. He could just about manage to burn a piece of steak so it was still edible. Most Sentinels preferred bland foods anyway, so his cooking skills had always been enough to get him by. Just barely, but still. But the sauce Linda was making already smelled delicious, even though it was just onions and garlic in a saucepan. She tossed in the diced tomatoes and Ray’s stomach growled. He knew that it was far beyond his skills to make meals like this, especially when he was going to need to learn an entirely new bunch of recipes to cater to Frank's vegetarian tastes. The prospect was intimidating.
“So, Frank says your parents live in Belleville too,” said Linda once the pasta was cooking and the sauce was simmering. “What did they say when you told them you were coming home?”
“Oh, uh... I haven’t called them yet, actually.” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, between everything that had been going on. His mother was going to be so pissed.
“You haven’t... Ray!” Linda exclaimed. Ray hunched his shoulders. “They’re going to want to see you! You should go call them right now!” She took the wooden spoon from his hand and nudged him away from the stove. “The phone’s on the counter.”
Ray wanted to put it off some more, but Linda looked kind of fierce. He had to face the music some time.
“So what’s pilot training like?” Ray’s mother asked when he got her on the phone.
“You know, it’s not actually me who’s doing the... um. Never mind.” Ray tried to think. “That’s actually been delayed for a while.”
“Why, is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Um, not really. It’s just that there was a small car accident on the way.”
“Oh my goodness, were you hurt?”
“No,” said Ray again. “No, I’m fine. Totally fine. But Frank was a bit banged around, so they’ve delayed his training for a while so he can get better.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah, it’s... but anyway, the bright side is that they decided to send Frank home while he’s healing, and Frank lives in Belleville!”
“Oh!” said Ray’s mother, her voice getting louder. “Oh, Ray! You’re coming home?”
“Yeah,” said Ray, unable to hold back a smile at hearing his mother so happy.
“So are you flying? When does your plane arrive?”
“The plane?” Ray asked nervously, trying to ignore the feel of Linda’s eyes on the back of his head. “Uh, well, it arrived at half past four. This afternoon.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, except for the sound of Ray’s mother breathing, something he recognised as a sign she was deciding to let something go.
“Four thirty this afternoon,” she said evenly. “Okay.” Ray winced, but before he could apologise she said, “I don’t understand, they’re going to have you stay with Frank while he’s getting better? They’re not sending you off somewhere else?”
Ray fiddled with the phone cord nervously. “Uh, yeah, that’s the other thing...”
Part Five