Page 83 of Static/Cling

It was always a low hum in the back of his head. Had been as long as he could remember. When he’d met Bjorn, it had been easier to ignore if he focused on his friend and let the simplicity of that relationship wrap him up. After the accident, it almost got to the point he barely noticed it. He suspected the low-gradeelectric field Bjorn emanated had something to do with that. Maybe it disrupted his brain waves, and possibly, that should be alarming.

To him, it had been a massive relief. He’d been so relieved, in fact, that he’d relaxed too much, and one moment of inattention, one second of Bjorn releasing an accidental surge of angry electricity, and the easy path they’d been headed down had closed off.

Bjorn had held back after that.

Leif, if he was honest, had too.

Yes, sex still helped. It helped Bjorn control his power, but it also helped Leif control the chaotic maelstrom in his head. It even, sometimes, gave him a moment of clarity. Like knowing, without realizing he’d known, or how he knew, that Kassian didn’t like chipotle.

He’d always hoped they could get back to how they had been at the beginning, but Bjorn was scared to hurt him. He knew that. And he’d eventually figured out that one moment of frustrated, uncontrolled anger hadn’t been directed at him. It wasn’t even who Bjorn was. Unfortunately it had unleashed Leif’s power in a backlash that, though he’d never said so, had hurt Bjorn and torn a ragged gash in their relationship they’d been careful to avoid ever since.

Until today.

Until Bjorn had unexpectedly said, without saying, the love word, then kissed Leif with all the things he’d wanted to say.

Maybe that was Kassian’s influence, reminding Bjorn not everyone had scary psychic powers, and maybe, that even people who did weren’t scary all the time.

If Kassian was going to bring that out in Bjorn, Leif was fully on board.

“Focus,” Roger said again, kindly.

“It’s hard. So much noise.”

He had a flood of images, then. Bjorn striding down a concrete hallway, Kassian hunched over a computer. Sal at their desk. Roger slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair with a behemoth of a man watching over him. He understood the difference of what was real and what was imagined by the clarity of the images. Roger and Antony were crystal clear. The others, more like images seen through a fogged-over window.

“Stop doing that,” Leif told him.

“It’s fine if it helps,” Roger said.

“I’m turning right, Sal,” Leif said. “I’m between the office blocks now.”

“Good. At the end of that hall, you’re going to turn left. The servers are in the centre of the block on the west wall.”

“Got it.”

“Be careful,” Roger put in. “Those two soldiers are still around somewhere. Don’t run into them because you forgot about them.”

“Yeah. Now stop with the soothing montage. You’ll need your energy for your Antony, won’t you?”

Roger sighed. “Yeah.” He sounded so tired.

Leif hoped he hadn’t caused so much strain on him he wouldn’t be able to control his berserker when he finally let him loose. The last thing they needed was indiscriminate bloodshed. No. The last thing they needed was for Roger to be too wrung out to keep him calm, and still be stuck in that tiny booth with him.

“Fuck my life,” he muttered, and picked up his pace.

Earlier…

The sharp spark of pain and the loud crackling told Bjorn his earpiece was, if not fried, at least out of commission. That was confirmed when he spoke, and no one answered. Either he had finally managed to short it out, or passing from the basement to the level below it had done the job.

Whatever caused it didn’t matter. He would have no more help coming from that direction. He thought about removing it, but decided against that, just in case it might come back to life if he made it out of the underground bunker.

If they had a communication filter in place, then yeah. He could see it interfering with his device. It would be nice to know if it had set off an alarm, and if so, who would show up to investigate.

“Stay on target,” he advised his brain. All he had to do was figure out where the servers were, and where they were keeping Kassian, fry the former, rescue the latter, and do it before anyone found him.

“No problem,” he muttered, as the elevator bumped to a stop and the doors opened.

For a split second, he was elated. There was Kassian, just standing there, as if waiting for him.

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