He was still running. I could hear the accelerated rasp of his breath and then he rapped out my brother's name. "Niko. Niko." There were more mumbled incomprehensible curses, this time more empathetic than sincere. "Niko, stop. Stop. I have Caliban on the phone. He's all right. He's home. Safe. Here, talk to him."
My hearing was good old human, ordinary and not especially keen, so I couldn't hear what Niko was doing, but I didn't need to. He was trying to dig me out. Niko, who was practical to the nth degree, showed logic the door when it came to his only family. Surrounded by dirt and concrete that could collapse at any time, and he wouldn't give up. Wouldn't abandon me. He could only claw at the dirt and ignore the grim truth staring him in the face.
I heard the fumbling of the phone passed from one hand to another and then, "Cal?" There was a rigid self-control and an inescapable disbelief. I didn't blame him. He'd seen me buried before his eyes. Unseeing that would be difficult to do. Believing I was alive under tons of earth was difficult to pull off. Believing I was alive, whole, and in air-conditioned comfort miles away was an absolute bitch of mental acrobatics.
"It's me, Cyrano," I assured quietly. "I'm okay. I'm back in the apartment."
He didn't say anything for the next few seconds. His breathing, as uneven from exertion as Robin's had been, slowly smoothed. When he spoke again, the control was still there but the skepticism was gone. "How?"
To the point as always. "Like father, like son," I said with weary bite.
"Ah. Unexpected." There was the sound of his hand running over his face. "Stay there. We'll be back as soon as possible." There was an uncharacteristic hesitation. "You're not hurt?"
"Not a scratch," I said immediately. It wasn't entirely true, but it was what he needed to hear. And in reality, the coffee table had done more actual damage to me than Abbagor. It wasn't much of an epitaph for a near-eternal evil. Served the son of a bitch right.
"Good." There was a long exhalation and then a brisk echo. "Good. Then you can have lunch ready for our return. We'll discuss what we've learned then." Click.
I snorted and leaned back. Snatched from the jaws of death cut you exactly five seconds of slack around here, and repression was the only name brand my brother wore. I dropped the phone on the end table and realized something. The glossy black plastic was coated with pale brown, and so was I. I was still covered in rancid mud… as was the couch, the remains of the coffee table, and part of the floor. Luckily, my sense of smell had finally cut out, packed its bags, and headed for the hills. I hoped it stayed there. It was definitely more trouble than it was worth. Giving an internal groan, I rose stiffly to my feet and headed for the shower.
"It didn't go well, then?"
Promise stood still as a statue by the hall. I imagine she'd been there the entire time. Her hands were clasped formally before her. So calm. On the surface. Hard to believe my stealthy furniture destroying and loud cursing had caught her attention at Flay's side.
I rubbed a sleeve across my face and gave her the best reassuring smile I could dredge up. "Nik is fine. He's on his way back with Goodfellow."
The set of her shoulders relaxed, but all she said was, "How did you get here, Caliban?"
I had the feeling that she already knew. And truthfully I was in no mood to talk about it. "I have to grab a shower," I said evasively. "Mind ordering some takeout? Pizza maybe?" I moved past her and disappeared into the bathroom before she could comment.
The pizza arrived twenty minutes later, followed shortly by Niko and Goodfellow. I gave them a throw-away salute when the latter walked through the door, and kept working on my piece of pepperoni and mushroom. I couldn't taste much of it with my blunted ability to smell, but I ate it anyway. Robin gave the ruined couch and table a fastidious sniff. "Fragrant and fashionable. What more could one want?"
Niko took it in, gave a minute shake of his head, and let it go. As far as he was concerned I spent too much time lounging there anyway. Moving over to me, he gave my wet ponytail a tug. The yank was hard enough to let him know I was real… alive, but not enough to hurt. Much. "Hey," I protested with a wince. "How is this my fault?"
"I haven't quite figured that out yet." He frowned. "When I do, trust me, you'll be the very first to know."
Yep, repression, thy name is Niko. Or maybe it was Ninja-with-Panties-in-Twist. Whichever it was, I didn't take it personally. My temper tantrums tended to be much louder and more destructive. I could suffer through the Niko version with ease. "Your veggie special is warming in the oven." I swatted his hand away from my hair. "And Promise is waiting for you in the bedroom."
His eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
My eyebrows rose. "I saw you hit, Nik. Abby tossed you like a Frisbee. If you're not bruised from neck to tailbone, then you're not human." I pulled a piece of pepperoni off the top of my slice and toyed with it. "And that's my gig, not yours. I've laid out the ice packs, the muscle ointment, the whole nine yards. Promise said she'd like to help, but if you'd rather get half-naked in front of someone else"—my lips quirked—"that's your prerogative." The eyes narrowed further, but he disappeared silently into the back. He knew as well as I did that Robin might have a limp, but he was still a predator, through and through. And if the Puck had a weakness, it was for half-naked anything.
"You don't play fair, do you, Cal?" Goodfellow sat at the kitchen table and eyed the pizza without enthusiasm. "A man after my own shriveled little heart."
"I play to win." I popped the pepperoni into my mouth and chewed without much enthusiasm of my own. "It doesn't get more fair than that. You've taught me well, Obi-Wan."
"That can't be taught, kid." He helped himself to a piece with a mournful sigh at my poor choice of cuisine. "You're either born with it or you're born with a conscience." The brilliant grin flashed on and off as quickly as a neon sign. "You can't have both."
That didn't explain his flight into the depths to try to save us, but that was Goodfellow, a contradiction in terms and not half as heartless as he imagined himself to be. Changing the subject, he reached for a napkin and said lightly, "Niko said you were able to get some information from Abbagor. That's excellent news. We're that much closer to getting George back."
"Yeah, excellent," I parroted colorlessly, losing what little appetite I had. "If we knew which tribe had it. How many could there be in the world anyway?"
"O ye of little faith." He gave a superior smirk. "I might not know everything, but I do know everyone. Give me time and I'll find out which tribe it is and where they are. Things will come together, Caliban. We'll have George home soon. Safe and well. Try to believe it." He fixed me with eyes as green and fathomless as the primeval forest "You were the one who once told me that life is a fairy tale and everyone lives happily ever after."
Yeah, but it had been a lie then and it was a lie now. "You were shit-faced then, Loman." I gave up on the pizza. "I'm surprised you remember anything I said. Besides you were too busy sniffing Nik's hair." I tilted my head back and offered innocently over my shoulder, "Oh, hey, big brother, fixed up already?"
The utterly blank face was better than any scowl. "Amazing how well you hear when you want to." Niko retrieved his pizza from the oven, sat in the seat next to mine, and pushed my discarded plate back toward me. "Eat. I'm not dragging about your malnourished form from here to there. I've better things to do with my time."
I turned to Promise. "An ice pack is okay for a sore back, but it isn't much help with the cranky SOB part, is it?"
She brushed a hand over my hair and gave me an absent smile, but there was a sliver of unease behind her eyes. I think that she'd forgotten Niko was human… vulnerable. Well, relatively vulnerable. This was Niko we were talking about after all. "You two." She touched a cool fingertip to the bruise forming on my jaw. It was courtesy of the coffee table, not the troll, but that was between me and the furniture. "Always falling in with a naughty crowd."