Cadet Murphy

"So! Miljan says you and Bos haven't done it yet."
Cal looked up from his book to see Tiger, acting head of the Welcome Committee, standing in his doorway. The young carrier had his hair tied back with a yellow bandana and was carrying a broom, mop, and bucket. Tiger regarded him expectantly. Cal set his book aside - clearly, Baldwin would have to wait. Tiger was accompanied by Ami, who had one hand resting on his swollen belly and the other tight around the handle of a laundry basket that was balanced against his hip.

Cal looked at Ami, then at Tiger.
"Haven't done what yet?" he asked, equal parts curiosity and wariness. The obvious answer stuck in his throat and made the air in the room seem thinner. But it had only been two days - surely Bos hadn't called them in to deal with such a short delay? It was just a little time - just a little while to be prepared.
Cal shook the thought off. Bos would never have gone around to the others like that; he wouldn't have embarrassed Cal, or himself, that way. Or at least Cal hoped he wouldn't. If Tiger and Ami weren't here for that, then what -
Tiger threw his hands up in the air, almost hitting one of the steel bedposts with the broom.
"Unpacked! Obviously."
A distasteful glance around the room rested first on Bos's abandoned boots and clothes, then on Calvin's unpacked trunks. Ami looked around, then smoothed the blankets out on a corner of the bed and sat down with his basket. He smiled charitably at Cal.
"Miljan says you've both been busy with...the adjustment. So Tiger and I are here to help."
Tiger nodded gravely.
"A helpful house is a happy house."
Cal blinked at him.
"Oh. Oh, right. OK. Well, thanks." Cal hopped down from his spot in the window seat and gestured to the bench that lined the foot of their four poster bed. "Please, sit."
Tiger looked down at the bench, almost unidentifiable under a pile of Bos's gear, a stack of abused books, a scattered population of lonely socks, several muddy shirts, a belt, and a slightly damp towel. Tiger looked up at Cal.

Cal, feeling slightly embarrassed by this point, crossed the space quickly and shoved the books to the side, knocking some of the gear off of the opposite end.
"Here. There's a space."
Tiger sat, cautiously, as if the pile of socks might spring up at any moment towards him. Ami smiled and began unpacking the contents of his basket.
"Hey. We brought you something?"
Cal gave Ami his best half-smile. Since he'd been back in the main house, Tiger and Ami had been unfailingly kind to him. They had showed him everything - how to work the kitchen appliances, how to use the phone, how to operate the laundry, where Tiger stashed all his candy, where Miljan stashed all his liquor, which cousin was which, what the general schedule was, and how best to appear to be utterly busy while really doing absolutely nothing at all. Ami was a master at the last one.
Tiger, who had been watching Ami with an uncharacteristic silence and fidgeting, suddenly spoke up.
"We hope you like it." he said, then went back to fidgeting quietly.
Ami handed over a bundle of cloth then, carefully folded into a thick stack. Cal took it.
"Open it." Ami encouraged. Cal found an edge and shook it out. In the moment that the fabric billowed, he realized. It was a natori. Cal's chest felt tight; his fingers burned. He was torn between wanting to show his appreciation to Tiger and Ami and wanting to drop the ugly thing on the fucking ground. The fabric felt slick in his hands - silky, he realized. Difficult to hold on to. He tried to tighten his grip, but his fingers wouldn't respond. He closed his eyes and did not under any conditions think of his uncle, or the farmhouse, or his old friends back at the base.

After a few seconds, Cal felt enough under control to give a real response, and he pulled himself together to talk. But when he looked up, the intensity of thought in Tiger's eyes pinned him - there was love and hopefulness and something which on any other face might have read as pity and for a moment Cal couldn't place. But then it was there, bright, clear as a cloudless sky - sympathy. The simple sympathy of a shared regret. And so young...
Cal couldn't stand it - he looked away, belatedly realizing that the silence had gone on too long.
"It'll look really good on you." Ami assured him suddenly, misinterpreting Cal's reticence.
Calvin forced a smile and put the thing down.
"I know it will. I bet it will. Thank you guys. So much." he looked up again, but now Tiger's eyes were off in another direction, happy and bright, no longer a window into his past.
"It's for tonight." he said, speaking into the middle distance. He turned back, focused again on Cal. "For tonight." he repeated.

~

"It's a really good little booklet, Calvin," Ami assured him. "And a really easy read."
Cal had to bite his tongue hard to keep from answering back. His face felt like fire. Your First Night With Your Husband stared up at him from the top of the stack.
"Mm-hmm."
"Yeah, and this other book -" Tiger pulled a book from the bottom of the pile, upsetting the books into a shapeless heap. "- The First Month of Marriage; that's also really good. Miljan and I read that one."
Cal tried to look impressed. Ami patted his hand.
"They're both written specifically for carriers, so they may have some good perspective on what you're going through right now."
Cal didn't answer, just tried to wade through his shell-shock to formulate a proper response. Ami, who was watching him closely, reached out and gently plucked Your First Night from the stack, then slid it over towards Cal.
"You should probably read that one first."
Cal averted his gaze to the window, his cheeks burning again.
"I don't - "
"You do." Ami interrupted him. "Trust me," he said, meeting Calvin's eyes. "You do."

Tiger got up from the bed and went to stand in front of Cal.
"It's going to be OK, OK?"
Cal nodded.
"OK."
Tiger exchanged looks with Ami and rubbed Cal's shoulder.
"Honest! And Bos is really nice. I broke his nose once and he never even held it against me. Well, he did for a day. But after that - nothing!"
Cal tried to smile, but found himself feeling rather unsettled, and so just aimed for not hyperventilating instead. Ami, seeing this, shook his head.
"Cal, what's wrong? It can't just be the books." Ami leaned over with some effort to look Cal in his eyes. "Is it Bos? Did he frighten you? Are you homesick?" Cal shook his head, and Ami hesitated. "Did he hurt you?"
Cal shook his head again, and Ami exchanged a relieved glance with Tiger. Cal looked away, towards the window, wanting but unable to explain the vastness of what he felt; the fear and homesickness - those were miniscule compared to everything else. What really wrung him was the helplessness, the confusion, the amorphous feelings of dissociation, the looming prospect of his own insanity, the loss of identity, the abject terror at his own disfigurement, the distance between himself and everything he ever knew...yes, those were the real demons.

Tiger retook his place on the bed and patted Cal's shoulder. Ami lifted a hand to Cal's back, rubbing it in comforting little circles.
"Maybe it would help if you just told us a little part of it?" Tiger suggested, gently. Cal stared at the floor, then at his hands, then sideways at Ami's swollen stomach. He focused on it for a minute.
"I don't want to be pregnant." Cal lifted his eyes, glanced sidelong at Tiger, then Ami, but kept his gaze on something in the middle space. "I can't - I can't have a kid. I can't have a baby - for a stranger! I'm not done, you know? I'm not done. I'm not ready. I'm really not ready. I don't want to - I can't be a mom! But Bos wants it now, now, everything is always now, and I just need time. I just need a little bit of time. I feel like everything is rushing at me, and I can't breathe. I'm underwater, and I just need - " he paused to try to catch his breath. He sucked in one shuddering sip of air, the another. He closed his eyes. "I don't think Bos will let me wait. Everything is right away with him, here, now. I thought I could handle it. I did, but everything is new, and I can't - I can't even work the toaster yet, and I don't know him and you guys are nice and all, but I don't know you, and I just need some time to calm down and understand it all. And If I have a kid right now, I don't think - I don't think I can handle it. I can't. I'll go crazy." Cal's voice was too weak for him to talk by now and so he took one more breath and finished. "I just need more time."
Spent, Cal tucked his trembling hands together under the bunches of green - no, teal, Ami had corrected - natori in his lap and squeezed them together, trying to still them, hoping they could perhaps comfort each other.

Ami just stroked his back and didn't answer. Tiger, looking stricken, glanced at Ami, then away, then - after a suitable silence - back to Calvin. His expression strengthened into something more firm.
"Cal? I could maybe sort of help."

~

By evening, they had unpacked and put away most of Calvin's things. Only one duffel remained, and it was moved under Cal & Bos's large bed for storage. Ami and Tiger had gone to prepare dinner, leaving Cal behind to rest.

He had slept fitfully for an hour, then woken at the sound of voices in the hallway. The room was dark - night had fallen. Cal recognized one of the voices outside the door as Bos, who seemed to be speaking in hushed tones. He sat up and reached over to flick on the light. As he did so, a little syringe revealed itself, tucked halfway under his pillow. The label had been peeled off. Cal had exactly 17 seconds to process what it was, who had left it, and what he was supposed to do with it before the door swung open.

Panicked, Cal shoved the syringe back under the pillow it had come from. Presently, Bos appeared in the doorway, and upon seeing Cal sitting up in bed, smiled.
"Ah, good. You are awake."
Cal put on a yawn and stretched, trying to lay casually across the pillow.
"Yep."
Bos entered their room and closed the door behind him. He glanced around.
"You've unpacked. And cleaned." there was a not insignificant amount of pleasure in his voice as he noted this. Cal nodded, trying to look insouciant.
"Yep."
Bos smiled broadly and approached the bed, leaning down to lay a kiss on Calvin's cheek. Cal stood for it and didn't flinch, although his heart pounded and the adrenaline that rushed through his system told him to go, go, get out of here, go. Bos watched him, examining his expression for... what? Cal didn't know. He must have been satisfied, however, because he patted Cal's hip beneath the blankets and straightened up.
"Very good." Bos crossed the room to his own chest of drawers by the window, dropping his pants and pulling off his shirt; belatedly, Cal realized that his host had come in wearing some kind of uniform. Bos must have been on duty, then - that explained why the Russian had dressed and left before dawn, waking Cal only when he let the door slam behind him. Bos paused in the middle of the room, clad only in his boxers. Cal determinedly did not look anywhere but at his face.
"I am going to shower. Tiger and Ami say dinner will be ready shortly, OK?"
Cal nodded.
"OK."
Bos smiled again and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door loosely behind him. Cal waited until he heard the rush of water in the shower, then threw himself off of the pillow and turned around to feel between the linens and find the little syringe. But where could he hide it? A drawer would be too obvious, and too likely for Bos to search. In the bench? No, same problem. In the bathroom? Maybe, but it would be impossible to do now without compromising himself. In his duffel under the bed? No, with only one bag under there, it would be too exposed. In the curtains, he suddenly realized. The top of the window dressing made a little shelf of cloth. Surely enough space for a small syringe to be hidden. Plan decided, Cal turned to get off of the bed and ran smack into Bos.

The fright made him yelp and jump backwards onto the bed. He glanced, angrily towards the bathroom; the water was still running there. Bos hadn't closed the door all the way when he'd gone in, Cal suddenly realized. He had meant to return; he'd suspected something.
Bos watched him impassively, his eyes dark and guarded.
Cal inched backwards on the bed, wondering if perhaps he should just do it - stab himself quickly and hope for the best. Bos would be angry, but it wasn't as if it could be undone. Cal gauged the distance between them - not enough. He would be stopped.
Bos shifted and looked expectantly at Cal, both hands on the ends of the towel around his neck.
"What are you doing?" he asked as if he already knew the answer. Cal didn't answer, just stared in horrified silence at the trouble he knew was looming before him. Bos changed his stance and tried again.
"What's in your hand?"
Cal snapped out of his silence long enough to offer,
"I was - just - I found a pain jab, in the bed. I guess leftover."
Bos shook his head.
"We used all of your jabs. The rest were put away."
Cal glanced at the syringe in his hand.
"I still had some pain. I got one from Ami."
Bos shook his head again; his expression was beginning to grow angry. Almost naked, Cal realized, the man was practically more intimidating than clothed. Every muscle was apparent.
"Ami never took shots. He changed in a hospital." Bos stepped closer and closer to the bed until he was towering above Calvin. His face was brightly lit on one side by the lamp; on the other, it fell into darkness. "You are lying to me." he said, simply.
Cal felt his stomach drop.
"No, no, I just - "
"Give it to me."
Cal just stared at him dumbly for a second. Bos's eyes narrowed.
"Give it to me. Now."
Cal handed it over hastily, dropping it carefully into Bos's outstretched hand. Bos examined it.
"This is not Ami's."
Cal, feeling boxed in, decided any attempt was better than none.
"Maybe it's new. Maybe he just had it lying around from something. Or maybe it was Drag's."
Bos gave him a look that was halfway between incredulity and annoyance.
"Who gave you this, Calvin?"
Cal's breath quickened.
"I don't know."
The violence of the backhand caught Calvin off-guard; it took him a moment to recover from the loss of breath. Bos stood calmly in front of him.
"You don't know." he repeated.
"I don't know." Cal answered, desperately. Bos's reaction was equally as strong as the one before it. As Cal recovered, Bos had crossed the room to where his fallen clothes lay and retrieved his belt, which he now wrapped around his hand.
Cal scooted backwards on the bed, almost to the other side. The belt swung from Bos's hand as he approached.
"So. Is it a pain jab, Cal? Or is it something else?"
Cal just stayed silent.
"Hmm?" Bos pressed. "Is it something else? A contraceptive shot, maybe?"
Cal still didn't answer.
"Now, I wonder - who could have given you that?" Bos mused over the question, tilting his head as if this were all very odd, even as he re-wrapped the belt around his hand so that the buckle end dangled free.
Cal watched the belt, and watched Bos, and was silent. Bos smiled an uneven, narrow smile.
"You don't need to answer. I applaud your misplaced loyalty."
Cal stretched one foot down on the other side of the bed. The door was not far. Bos caught this.
"If you leave this room, you'll only make me angry."
Cal froze, trembling, and glanced towards the door. The glance was all the time Bos needed before he was around the bed, one hand on Cal's shirt collar, dragging him onto the mattress. Cal fought, almost uncontrollably, and Bos waited a moment to let him wear himself down a little. Once Cal had calmed, Bos leaned down to speak directly into his ear.
"I am your husband." he said, deliberately, each syllable clearly pronounced. "Your loyalty lies with me."
Blessedly, Bos's grip loosened then and Cal was allowed to move up, away. He did, retreating to the opposite side of the room, blinking to get his bearings as the quick return to standing made his head spin.
Bos got to his feet, too, and calmly unwrapped the belt from his hand and cast it away.
Cal felt something damp on his cheeks and scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He was not crying - he would not allow it. Crying was weak, and fruitless, and silly. Cal was not silly. Cal was smart. Getting caught had been silly, though. This could have been so easily avoided. He just hadn't been paying attention, he hadn't listened, he hadn't checked behind himself. Cal crossed his arms over his chest. Never again.
Bos picked up his towel from the ground, uncapped the syringe, and depressed the plunger, spilling the feeble contents into the cloth.
"Do not," he said, squeezing the empty syringe tightly between two fingers, "Try this again."

~

The door to the dining room slammed open, and Tiger and Miljan both looked up from where they were necking in a chair to see who it was. Bos, practically shimmering with rage, crossed the floor towards them. Tiger paled as much as his dark skin would allow, but didn't move.
When he was across the table from them, Bos reached out and struck Tiger once, hard, across his face.
"EH!" Miljan leapt to his feet, spilling Tiger from his lap and stepping between the two. His muscles tensed and fists closed for a fight. He narrowed his eyes at Bos. "What the hell was that?"
Bos glared around him at Tiger, then turned his anger full on Miljan.
"That," he said, his lips curled up into a sneer, "Was this."
He slapped the syringe down on the table between them. Behind Miljan, Tiger flinched with the sound.
"Your little carrier is giving mine drugs!" Bos leaned over so that he was talking directly to Tiger again. "His drugs! To keep from being pregnant." Tiger had curled his legs up to his chest in the chair, and now had one hand to his mouth, chewing nervously on the tip. He wouldn't meet Bos' eyes, preferring to stare at the floor instead.
Miljan faltered for a moment, then his expression tightened again. He turned backwards to Tiger.
"Is that true?"
Tiger looked up, wide-eyed at Miljan, then glanced at Bos. They locked eyes. Bos's showed anger; Tiger's blazed defiance.
"He just needs more time."
Bos growled and lunged forward to hit Tiger again, but Miljan was there, and he pushed Bos back first.
"DON'T touch him." Tiger and Bos both paused, surprised at the violence of Miljan's reaction. Miljan himself seemed a little stunned, and the party was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "You don't need to hit him, prijatelj. He's only a very young carrier. He didn't know what he was doing."
Bos's chest heaved with anger. He turned to Miljan, came forward so that their faces were inches apart.
"You do it, then."
Miljan didn't respond. Bos shoved one finger into his shoulder, throwing him off-balance a little. "You discipline him. He runs amok through this entire house. Like a little princess. You teach him where his boundaries are." Bos leaned away from Miljan to look darkly at Tiger. "Or I will."

Miljan watched Bos' retreat from the room. When the man was gone, he still did not turn around. Tiger, still hidden behind his knees in the chair, began to unfold himself, cautiously. He reached out to touch Miljan's hand. Miljan cast it back.
"Go upstairs, Tiger."
"But - "
"GO UPSTAIRS, TIGER!" Miljan roared, startling him.
"I'm sorry, I - "
Miljan spun around. His face was tight, eyes blazing.
"Do you know that what goes on between a man and his wife is sacred in this house? Do you understand that there is a boundary that distinguishes other people's lives from our own? Do you know that you have violated that? That you have intruded and interfered in the choices made in other people's lives? And do you understand that it is in the worst way that you have done this - in a way that goes fundamentally against our purpose of life? Hmm? Do you know that? And do you know that, in doing this, you have betrayed Bos, Calvin, and myself? Do you understand that, Tiger?"
Tiger just trembled, too afraid to answer. Miljan leaned forward.
"Do you understand that now, although I love you, I am forced to punish you?"
Tiger took in a little startled breath, but was silent. Miljan had never hit him, never. Not since the kidnapping. Tiger didn't know how to respond to this. Miljan's frown intensified.
"Answer me!"
"I - I'm sorry."
Miljan slammed both hands down on the arms of the chairs and shook it.
"YES or NO, do you understand??"
"Yes!"
"And do you understand that if I so much as look at you for one minute more, I will be moved to violence beyond your understanding?"
A shiver ran through Tiger.
"Ye - yes."
Miljan turned away from him.
"Then go the fuck upstairs."

~

In his room, Tiger couldn't stop crying. He didn't even bother to turn on a light, or to undress. He just let himself in, collapsed onto the bed, and sobbed. After ten or fifteen minutes, he calmed himself a little. He wasn't even sure why he was crying? Fear of punishment had never made him cry before; despite his sweet nature, Tiger had been made tough, and a beating was not something he was unfamiliar with.
But those had been school beatings, the tenor and quality of which he knew and had nothing to fear from. This was Miljan. Miljan of the secret missions and dark clothes and unfamiliar technology. Miljan of the strange smells and late night conversations and the blood on his hands from the death of his own brother. Miljan, who represented an entirely new prospect.
Tiger rolled onto his side on the bed.
But that wasn't it, either. Miljan might be all of those things - dark, dangerous, mysterious, and a trained killer, but he was still just Miljan. He still loved Tiger just the same, and he would never, ever hurt Tiger beyond what was absolutely necessary. Tiger felt sure of that.
So what was he crying for?

On cue, the door swung open, and Miljan appeared as a shadow in the light. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and his shoulders drooped. Tiger sucked in a breath. There was his answer.
Miljan closed the door behind him. In a moment, Tiger's eyes adjusted and Miljan's face became visible. He looked...tired. Worn down.
"I'm sorry." Tiger blurted, immediately. "I'm so sorry." Tears threatened at his eyes again, made his nose sting. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Miljan stayed where he was, peering into the darkness at his carrier wife.
"You did."
"I know."
"You deceived me."
"I know." Tiger nodded vigorously. "I'm sorry."
"I trusted you, very much. I left those syringes unlocked because I trusted you. We use them because I trust you."
"And you still can! I didn't - I just didn't think. I'm sorry."
Miljan scrubbed his hands over his face.
"You shouldn't have given it to Calvin." he sighed. "Bos is very angry."
Tiger was quiet for a minute, then he piped up.
"Does he - does he hate me?"
The edge of Miljan's mouth flickered, just slightly.
"Today he does. Tomorrow, he will. Next week, things will be fine."
Tiger nodded and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.
"I'm very sorry."
"I know you are, mladunce. I'm sorry, too."
Tiger's stomach dropped. Miljan was still going to beat him.
Across the room, Miljan stirred and came forward. He had something in his hands.
Closer, Tiger recognized it, though it surprised him. Miljan stopped by the foot of the bed, stood still.
"You've been paddled before, I assume."
he waited, expectant, for an answer. Tiger's voice was a whisper.
"Yes."
"At school?"
"Yes."
"This will be like that, then. You know what to do."
Tiger hesitated. Miljan's voice dropped into a warning.
"Tiger...."
The carrier let himself down from the bed. In the darkness, he felt with his feet for the rug, stepped onto it and turned around, his body stretching over the bed, his feet splayed. Miljan moved behind him.
"Undress."
Tiger did, quickly, not turning to look at his husband. Miljan stared at him. The moonlight coming in through the window highlighted Tiger's body - the straight planes of his back, the curve of his hips and neck. Miljan was startled by his own arousal. He tempted himself with the idea of simply fucking his carrier instead, but knew he'd better not. Besides, he was a soldier, and most skillfully trained. There was a situation on his hands, and he needed to handle it now. Not today, not tomorrow - now. The thought was sobering.
The first stroke landed hard. Tiger yelped and scooted forward. Miljan stopped.
"I don't want to have to restrain you."
Tiger took in a shuddering breath that Miljan, in other circumstances, would have been glad to hear.
"How - how many?"
"Twelve." Miljan answered quickly.
"First one counts?" Tiger asked, just as quickly.
In the dark, Miljan allowed himself a short quirk of the lips. Tiger, ever wriggling.
"Yes."
"OK."
The second stroke was a little lighter - Miljan was testing, Tiger realized, trying to gauge himself. Tiger didn't yelp, just bit down hard on his lip and keened under his breath. He also didn't move, and for that, Miljan was proud. Third came. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh, and Tiger was trembling. Eighth, and his arms shook with the strain of remaining still. Miljan knew he should be silent and cruel. Couldn't do it - he reached out and stroked Tiger's hip.
"Just three more, mladunce."
The ninth was the worst, and Tiger really cried out that time, and pulled the covers sideways on the bed in his effort to be still. At the tenth, he cried out and didn't stop crying. Miljan wanted to make the eleventh lighter, but knew that doing so would give the game away. The punishment had to be firm, all the way through. The last blow landed, and Tiger's voice rose in pitch, but he still didn't move.
Tiger was shivering utterly now, bent over the bed, and Miljan laid the paddle down and stretched over top of him.
"Mladunce."
Tiger hiccuped and tried to end his sobbing. Miljan touched his back, guided him gently onto the bed and under the covers. When Miljan tried to pull away, though, Tiger caught him by the shirt, pulling him close, urgently.
"I'm sorry, Miljan. I'm sorry."
Miljan patted his back again.
"I know. I know."
"I will never betray you again. I promise."
Miljan squeezed his eyes shut.
"I know."
Tiger's voice hitched.
"Will you - stay with me?"
Miljan agreed without hesitation.
"I will."
Toeing off his shoes, he climbed fully-clothed into the bed with Tiger. After lying in the darkness for a few minutes, he felt pressed to ask.
"Are you OK, mladunce?"
A pause.
"Yes."
"Volim te."
Tiger sniffled.
"Volim te."
There was silence.
"Tiger?"
"Yes?"
"What you did - was very kind. Even if it was wrong, and foolish, and rude and untrustworthy. It was kind. And for that, I am very proud of you."
Tiger tentatively squeezed an arm around Miljan's waist. His voice was quiet.
"You forgot to mention it was also brave."
Miljan let himself smile a little into the darkness.
"Yes, mladunce. It was also very brave."

~:~