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Prologue
One last time.
It becomes a motto.
An excuse.
A lie they cling to.
They say it for the first time after the operation comes to an end, missing the entire first day in the safehouse after falling asleep in each other’s arms, the greatest of reliefs soaking in with every breath they take. They don’t stir. Not to use the bathroom. Not for food or water. Not even from pain.
They don’t hear when one of the survivors freaks out halfway through the day and tries to escape. They don’t witness when an accidentally broken plate creates nearly house-wide panic. They don’t know that Maison asks if they’re awake yet every 30 minutes.
Carter is the first to wake up. He has no idea of the time, just that the morning light through the window has become the light of a nearly full moon. It's enough to keep his fear of the dark at bay. It's also enough to give him a soft, hazy view of the man in bed beside him.
One last time.
It's almost laughable to think he'll be able to stick with the promise.
It's almost terrifying that there's a chance he might.
Carter studies the steady rise and fall of Travis's chest before his gaze catches on the bandage on his side. Anxiety spikes at the reminder that the man almost didn't make it home. He has no idea what the two of them are going to become now that the dust is settling, but as long as Travis is safe, Carter thinks he'll be able to live with any outcome. Thinks being the operative word. It might be more accurate to say he hopes.
He raped you, a voice reminds Carter.
But he had to.
He lied to you.
But he thought it was for the best.
You became fucking suicidal.
But then he told the truth.
You don't even know him. The man you fell in love with was a lie. A character he made up. There's a chance you don't even like who Travis really is.
That… is a good point.
Maybe the first step in all of this is to figure out how much of Nathan, and maybe even sir, was Travis.
Okay, no - the first step in all of this is to pee. Carter really has to pee. And then make sure Casey is okay. And then find some food.
But the first step in everything regarding his weird-relationship-not-relationship with Travis will be figuring out who he really is as a person.
They'll just have to go from there.
Travis is dead to the world, not moving a muscle when Carter leaves the bed to use the bathroom, get dressed, and sneak out. Carter breathes out a sigh of relief when he's successfully made it into the hall. Then he realizes he's not quite sure where he should go. Casey's room is across from his, but Carter doesn't want to bother him if he's sleeping. Maybe food first and then see?
Carter's stomach grumbles at the thought of food. He decides to go with that plan, trying to remember if he saw a kitchen when he first arrived.
Thankfully, the kitchen isn't hard to find, located right at the start of the hall. They had to have walked by it earlier, but Carter's brain hadn't really been functioning properly at the time.
Three light fixtures are hanging above a large breakfast island, washing the whole room in a soft glow. Carter’s mouth fills with saliva when he sees the bright colors of apples and bananas and oranges in a fruit bowl. He looks around, paranoid he'll get in trouble even though he logically knows he won't.
That's when he sees that he's not alone in the kitchen. Someone is standing in the far corner, almost tucked behind the fridge. He's leaning back against the counter, ankles crossed, a short glass cradled against his chest. Carter's heart stutters.
"You can take one," his brother says softly, nodding his head at the bowl. His lips quirk. "Hell, take all of them.
