Evenfall (35 page)

"I will." Boyd's lips tilted up a hint on the edges in a quiet smile that was gone almost before it was there. "Thank you. I've needed a place to go."

Sin looked at him sidelong and then after a stretch, nodded curtly as he turned away. "I'll see you around."

Boyd nodded and watched Sin leave. The latest mission seemed to have changed a lot in even the peripheral parts of their interaction. It was somewhat unexpected. He'd as much as expected to die the day before and now not only was he alive, but a goal he'd been struggling with for weeks was realized as well.

He couldn't help feeling intrigued by this new possibility. He wanted to know more about Sin when he wasn't on guard. He'd thought he would only be able to do that by watching the live feed but now he was starting to wonder if maybe he'd have the opportunity to see it firsthand.

As he stood, he thought about the training room. Maybe if he started stopping by there he could train but also get the chance to observe Sin. Maybe Sin would continue to talk to him as an equal if they ran into each other there.

He was still considering the idea when he left the room.

C
hapter 11

When Sin woke up, it was with a flash of panic. Sweat was running down the sides of his face as his heart galloped in his chest. The last vestiges of the nightmare haunted his peripheral vision but when he jerked his gaze to the darkened corner, he found nothing unusual there.

Slumping back against the bed, he took a deep breath. There was a distinct tremor in his limbs and his breath was still coming fast. Phantom aches echoed through his body as though he'd really experienced whatever had happened in his dream.

He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes and grit his teeth. Trying to remember the entirety of it was always pointless. He'd had the same nightmare countless times. Recently, it had started coming more often. But no matter how worn out he felt after waking up, no matter how dismayed he was-- only flashes of it remained.

Green grass stained with blood, rocks and the moon hovering in the blackened sky. Flashes of a body being dragged through tall grass or weeds, a slack mouth, and fingers trailing limply through dirt.

"Fuck."

Sin opened his eyes again and pulled himself into a sitting position. His head was pounding but the ghostly pain in his torso that had accompanied it gradually faded. It was always the same when he woke up-- strange aches as though he'd just been in a fight and a clawing horror that made his heart catch in his throat. But he never remembered.

Throwing his long legs over the side of the bed, Sin combed his fingers through his hair. Disgruntled and irritated over being plagued by the nightmare so frequently, he rolled his stiff shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension from them. He didn't understand the dream or why it had such an effect on him. The fact that he woke up in a cold sweat was bad enough but the idea that he thrashed and yelled in his sleep was even worse. It still annoyed the hell out of him that Boyd had witnessed it firsthand.

Sin stood up and headed to the bathroom, shoving off the loose grey pants he'd worn to sleep. The daylight streaming into the apartment windows seemed too bright compared to the darkness of his bedroom, even if the sun was still muted behind clouds. It made him wince as his head pounded but he felt simultaneous relief as the dream drifted further away.

However, his brain didn't stop feeling muddled and confused until he stepped under the powerful streams of water from the shower. It plastered the sweaty hair back against his head and face, cooling his uncomfortably heated flesh. He smoothed his soaked bangs away and kept his face tilted up against the cold water. It felt good.

It was stupid to continuously revel in the feel of a normal shower but he couldn't help it. The fact that he had his own apartment was something that consistently surprised and pleased him in general.

It was something he'd never had before; his own space. It was a standard Agency apartment and was Spartan by default but it was still his own. He likely would never be able to add his own furniture to it like most people could but he didn't really have the desire to do so either. It didn't matter to him what it looked like; all that mattered to him was that he had it. So much of his life had been spent under the watchful eye of other people, in one trapped circumstance or another. This was the first time he was on his own.

Of course he was still confined to the compound unless he had supervision and guards stood in front of his apartment door at all times but it was better than what he'd had before. He often wondered how Carhart had managed to convince Connors to finally let him have his own quarters. The Marshal had never shown any interest in treating Sin like a normal human in the past. Perhaps they thought if they chose this tactic, he'd be more likely to cooperate. If that was the case, he couldn't deny that it had been a motivating factor.

Well that and the fact that Boyd had turned out to not be so bad.

Sin opened his eyes, lips drawing down in a frown as he finally reached for a washcloth and soap. The thought of Boyd unsettled him in a way that he didn't entirely understand. He'd had mixed thoughts about the younger man from the moment he'd seen him during the interview and he still didn't know entirely what to make of him. For someone who had seemed so taciturn at the start, Boyd had slowly morphed into not only a decent partner but a companion of sorts.

It had struck Sin as odd almost instantly and for awhile he hadn't been able to figure out why their conversations had thrown him off so badly.
Then he'd realized that during his entire time at the Agency, Boyd was the first person to really talk to him. Carhart consistently tried and failed but Sin could never look at the man without thinking he had some kind of motive. Boyd, however, didn't seem to have any. It was possible that it was all just a ploy to get under Sin's skin and keep their partnership working but if it was, Sin still couldn't deny that having someone around who didn't shudder at the sight of him was nice. Especially since Boyd had more of a reason to fear him than anyone after their nearly disastrous mission outside of Carson two weeks ago.

The thought of it once again pulled his full lips down into a scowl.

The worst part of it was that he didn't remember anything until the point where he'd already been crushing Boyd against the floor. It was just like the other times-- the other episodes, as the Agency liked to call them. The difference was for some reason this time he'd been able to snap out of it before damage had been done. He didn't know why he'd been able to and he had doubts that either of them would be as lucky again.

Scrubbing himself quickly and allowing the powerful jets of water to rinse him off, Sin had reached over to shut the faucet off when he heard it. The low click of his door opening and footsteps treading inside.

Resentful irritation flooded him and all thoughts of his nightmares vanished. It galled him to know that people had access to his apartment. In fact it really fucking pissed him off. It half made him want to storm into the living room naked and crack someone's skull open. But that would only lead to him being dragged off to the Fourth for a couple of weeks in the box before yet another bastard came waltzing back into his apartment a few days later uninvited and unwanted.
Assuming they let him out this time.

Stepping out of the shower with a grimace, he wrapped a towel around his waist and looked in the mirror. The bruises were slowly fading from his torso but the wound from the gunshot was still painful and raw looking. After the first couple of days of caring for it he'd been forced to go to the medical wing to make sure it hadn't gotten infected. As little as he liked having them attend to him, an infection wasn't something he could fix on his own.

There were sounds emanating from his living room and faint conversation. Whoever it was sounded impatient but he didn't give a shit. He turned on the faucet and brushed his teeth slowly before taking the time to actually comb his hair. It would have been amusing to walk out completely naked but at the last minute he dragged on the cotton pants. He didn't feel like having anyone gawk at his scars.

Still damp from the shower, Sin stalked out into the main room and stared flatly at the man waiting for him there.

Rueben Steig was an upper tiered support staff agent who'd been exclusively tasked with Sin. He'd made his presence known not long after Sin had relocated to the apartment and had explained how the supply cards worked, when deliveries were made and how money was removed from his accounts.
It felt like the worst kind of babysitting to have someone literally purchase and deliver all of his food and supplies but apparently every agent who lived on compound utilized this function. He would have preferred to do these things himself but since he wasn't even allowed off the compound alone, that wasn't going to happen. It also didn't help that unlike other agents, he didn't even have direct access to his own money.

"You didn't submit your supply card," Rueben said almost immediately upon seeing Sin. He was flanked by Officers Kemp and Daniels, two of the guards that manned Sin's door. Rueben crossed his arms over his grey dress shirt and frowned disapprovingly. It was one of the two expressions he typically wore when looking at Sin; the other was a condescending sneer.

Sin shrugged and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. "Yeah, and?"

As usual, this response seemed to irritate Rueben and his scowl deepened. He was one of those support guys who took their jobs way too seriously.
A lot of people in support roles had once been candidates for something more high ranking such as field, R&D, IT or techs of some kind and had failed the required training to move on. It landed them in varying roles around the compound and there were always those individuals who made themselves believe that they were still really important just to get over the disappointment of being demoted. Sin had a feeling that Rueben was one of those people. He seemed to think that the world would come to an end if anyone submitted a late supply card.

"Yes and you aren't the only person I have to deal with, Vega."

"So quit. Tell them to send someone with a shorter stick up their ass."

Daniels snickered and just raised his eyebrows when Rueben cast him an icy glare.

"Where is the card?"

Sin gestured vaguely to the kitchen counter and didn't bother to move. Rueben was hardly the rudest person he had to deal with on the compound but he still got under Sin's skin.

Rueben jammed the card into a panel computer and waited impatiently as the information loaded. It didn't take long for the man's blue eyes to flick back up incredulously. "You didn't select anything!"

"I don't like anything on it," Sin replied with a shrug, not moving from his position by the wall. "You people gave me bullshit options. I don't like fish and that's most of what's on there. Don't most people get to choose their own food?"

"You aren't most people so you'll just have to get over it. It's not my problem what you like and don't like."

Green eyes narrowed and Sin had a vivid mental image of caving Rueben's face in. Seeming to realize his misstep, Rueben shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the guards behind him as if to ensure that they were still there. "You are on a protein-specific diet until you reach your weight and muscle goal."

"It's not
my
goal," Sin retorted, feeling the irritation rising even further. "If you people want to tell me what the fuck to eat, why don't you just send me whatever you want? Giving me the illusion of choice isn't going to change the fact that I have none."

"I don't have time to sit around making your selections--"

"Well I suggest you make time and stop charging into my apartment in full bitch mode." Sin looked the other man up and down, taking in the sandy hair and lean body. He was more attractive than average and Sin briefly wondered what he'd initially tried out for. If it was for a field agent position, he had valentine operative written all over him. "I don't care about your sense of superiority or your high horse, stock boy. But if you keep speaking to me that way I'd have no problem knocking you right off it."

"Was that a threat?" Rueben demanded, eyes narrowing. "I dare you to--"

"Okay," Daniels interrupted, looking exasperated. "Just take the supply card and shut the hell up already. Jesus, you're like a fucking woman on her rag."

Both Sin and Kemp looked at Daniels in surprise. Rueben just flushed and sent the guard a withering look. "Stay out of it, guard."

"Well then hurry up, stock boy," Daniels returned, using Sin's description. "We don't have all day."

Rueben appeared completely thrown off by this turn of events and he grumbled something incoherent before shoving the card in his pocket. Mortified and resentful, he shot Sin another annoyed look and stormed out of the apartment. The guards followed without sparing Sin another glance.

Sin turned away from the door and stared at the window. He wanted to feel grateful that they had gone but whatever enjoyment he would have gotten from being in his apartment and not on a mission today was effectively spoiled. He'd known from the start that privacy was nonexistent in his world but it still irked him that people actually had access to his locks.

It was possible that maintenance and support staff had access to all Agency apartments but he highly doubted they typically talked down to agents the way Rueben did to him. There was usually a certain level of respect as a person's rank increased but that obviously didn't apply to him.

And Rueben was far from the only one who acted that way. Being ultimately despised and disliked by the Agency staff as a whole made that a given. Given the things he'd done along with the rumors that added to it, at times Sin couldn't even blame them.

Aggravated by the encounter, Sin stalked around the apartment trying to find something to do. His books no longer seemed entertaining and doing sit ups quickly became boring. The entire place seemed tainted now and nothing was enjoyable. The concept of personal space was shattered every time some asshole with a sense of authority came bursting in.

Disgusted, he went into his room and stared at the meager articles of clothing that he owned. It didn't take long to grab a pair of worn sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt. None of it fit him exactly right but it was clothing he'd owned since he was a teenager and it served its purpose for the training room.

Sin didn't look at Daniels or Kemp as he left the apartment and stalked down the hallway. He could feel their eyes on his back as he went but he didn't bother to acknowledge them. He could tell already that it was going to be a terrible day but his desire to work off the aggression that had steadily built in him was stronger than the desire to be left alone.