Under Construction but Up and Running

Cedar looked at the old man, then back down to his coffee. He sat down on the porch swing and pulled his feet up under him.

Neither one of them spoke for a while. Cedar watched the empty field in silence. The old man lifted his mug off the floor, took a sip, and set it back down.

“Y’ come to see me just to sit?” He asked.

Cedar looked over at the old man. He still didn’t look at Cedar.

“…I don’t know.” Cedar answered after a moment. He pulled a blanket off the back of the swing to cover his legs. “Nothing important enough to be here.”

“Must feel important.” The old man answered. He lifted his mug off the ground, took another sip, and set it down again. “T’come all the way out here.”

The silence stretched on for a moment longer. “I just don’t wanna waste your time with it.”

“I ain’t got nowhere to be.”

Cedar looked down at his hands, at the dark hair just starting to creep up the backs of his hands. He wondered if people still thought his hands looked feminine.

“I just…” He started, folding his hands over the top of the blanket. “What if this isn’t right?”

The old man didn’t say anything. Cedar didn’t want him to.

“I mean, I just started T and I… I mean I’ve wanted this for so long. But now that I have it I just feel…” He hesitated. Self hatred felt heavy on his tongue. It felt wrong to admit. “I feel gross. I feel awkward, and clunky, and my facial hair hurts like hell when it’s growing in. And I’m self conscious all the time. I’m just realizing how I’ve never, really related to people before this. It’s like I’m starting from scratch. It’s like I’m a kid again. I feel too young.”

The old man raised his eyebrows. One leg crossed over the other and he reached down for his mug again.

“I mean. I’m 19.” Cedar added sheepishly. “I am young. I know that. It just feels like no one else is as young as me. It feels like everyone else knows where they’re going. And–”

Cedar gripped the blanket tighter. His voice tightened in his throat. “I know I’m not wrong. But what if I get to the end, like, five years down the line and I don’t like it? Then I’m like, halfway through my twenties? Halfway through my twenties and I have to start over, I have to figure out something else.”

He looked out over the old man’s land. Darkness swallowed the landscape only a few yards past the porch. It felt like they were the only people alive.

“I just, I know I’d never go back. I know I’d never go back. I don’t want to detransition, or change anything, it's just…” His voice was soft and small, his hands gripped the blanket tighter to keep from shaking. “It’s hard right now. What if it doesn’t get better?”

He lifted the collar of his shirt to wipe his eyes, looking up to see he was in the passenger seat of the old man’s truck. It was bright out, and the windows were down. The wind was blowing noisily through the cab, and the sun was setting behind them in a way that it glared off the face of the radio and kept Cedar from checking the time. The old man drove with his hands at the top of the steering wheel.

“Does it feel right?” The old man asked.

Cedar blinked, looking up at him. The old man’s hat cast a stark shadow over his eyes. Cedar noticed the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

Cedar’s voice threatened to waver if he spoke again too soon, but he cleared his throat and spoke anyway. “Uh. No. It feels right… where are we going?” He fumbled for a switch for his window along the handle of the door, finally looking over to see the crank sitting lower on the door.

“Woah,” Cedar wiped his eyes, leaning down to roll up the window. “How old is this truck? You keep it running yourself?”

“She doesn’t give me much trouble. My boys take care of her when she does though.”

He didn’t answer the other questions. Cedar decided not to press it. He rolled up the window and stopped halfway, just enough to keep the wind from drowning out the conversation. He leaned his head against the doorframe, watching the road curve and straighten in front of them as they drove.

“Where are we going?” He asked again.

“Just wanna show you something.” The old man answered.

“Can I lean my seat back ‘til we get there?”

The old man gave a hum of approval. Cedar searched along the side of his seat for the lever and let his seat fall all the way back. He was standing again when he opened his eyes–this time at the quarry he used to spend his summers. He hadn’t been back since his senior year. Transitioning had made it too uncomfortable–his binders never mixed well with swimming, and he could never shake the feelings of strangers’ eyes on him.

This time, no one noticed him, he stood like a ghost in the shallows of the water. People around him screamed and laughed and shared drinks out of cheap looking coolers. Music echoed off the walls of the quarry. Cedar could feel the sun on his chest.

“How’s that feel?” The old man’s voice asked beneath the noise.

Cedar reached a hand up, closing his eyes and letting his fingers spread flat over his bare chest. He felt the ridges of new scars, not yet healed and not yet ready for the sunlight, warm under his fingertips and soaked in light against some future surgeon’s wishes.

“It feels right.” He answered.

He opened his eyes again to find himself back on the old man’s porch. The field in front of him was filled with the soft blinking of floating fireflies, cicadas cried distantly, filling the space between Cedar and the horizon

He looked over his shoulder, the old man sat in his rocking chair with his empty mug in his hands. The porch swing rocked gently in the breeze.

“I have to go back soon.” Cedar said.

“Sooner or later.” Time replied.

Cedar walked back to the porch swing, having a seat on the edge. The fireflies danced over the tall grass.

“Can I stay to finish my coffee?”

It was hell. Dimitri knew it would be hell. Their packs weighed as much as he did. The sun was unrelenting. The fabric of their clothes was breathable, but it was also black. They even had to keep their masks on. Endurance training was the official term, but Dimitri and Laredo had taken to calling it a Hell Hike.

He wanted to call out to Luis. To beg to lie down in the shade, just for a moment. There was no shade. There would be no sympathy from Luis. He was fueled by spite alone, but even that was waning under the intense heat.

Dimitri just couldn't seem to get quite enough air. His legs weren't as stable as usual. The ground was uneven. The heat beneath his casting mask was beyond stifling as sweat rolled freely down his face. Water didn't give any relief to the scratchiness in his throat. He really should've taken something before leaving their house.

But that would've defeated the purpose.

Up ahead, Laredo was swaying too. The ground was too uneven, more uneven than he remembered. Dimitri’s bag was heavier, somehow. It felt like his boots were too loose, too big. Why hadn't he let Luis check his temperature for himself? He couldn't have faked this sort of fever.

And then he was on the ground. The dirt pressed up against the conductive surface of his mask. He couldn't breathe.

"Shit--" Was that Valentina? That sounded like her. "Luis, sir! Man down!"

Boots sprinted over, and hands worked Dimitri's mask from his face. The rush of fresh air didn't help, even as his pack was unbuckled and lifted from his back. He still wheezed, face red and vision swimming.

"Joaquín, help me." Valentina's voice was above him, and her shadow blocked out the blinding light as he was carefully turned onto his back. Her bare, scar-smeared palm pressed to Dimitri's forehead and she jerked back. "Fuck--Luis, he's bad."

"Oh--Oh no." Luis? When did he get there? "He tried to tell me he wasn't feeling well this morning. I...I thought he was faking."

Another hand, larger this time, cupped Dimitri's face. "Can't fake that. If it's not fever, it's heatstroke. How far are we from base? He needs medical." Adriana. this time.

"I can carry him, we're an hour away, I think." Joaquin said. "Laredo, can you drive?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get us back in time."

"We'll be right behind..."

"Water..."

"Unbuckle..."

Dimitri didn't remember much after that. He was too hot, and then too cold, and then even colder, somehow. He couldn't get warm again. He wasn't allowed to be warm. Someone who sounded like Luis said he couldn't have a blanket, even as he shivered.

Someone who sounded like Luis apologized.

Mariano didn't even see him coming. A hulking mass of a man charged out from the trees as they'd started looking around. Mariano barely had a chance to realize what he was seeing before he was rolling out of the way.

Laredo spun, his short hair messy and stuck to his forehead from sweat. He glared at Mariano, one lip curling in a snarl. Arms sculpted from bronze were solid bundles of tension, nearly trembling from the force of the mage's fury. Sun-bright magic sparked from bloody fingertips.

Mariano had no idea how long this frenzy had been going.

"Laredo." Mariano started. He held one gloved hand up, as though reaching for him. "I don't want to fight you."

Laredo smiled, a twisted version of the one Mariano was familiar with seeing. "Good. Then this won't take long."

Mariano was barely able to roll out of the way as magic burst forward from Laredo's lips, a searing ray of magic ripping past his head. "Bastian!" He shouted. Laredo was too much to handle on his own.

Laredo laughed, high and wild and cackling as he charged at Mariano. He was fast. Faster than Mariano remembered him being--he always was. He didn't even bother with his sword.

A fist slammed into the side of Mariano's head, sending him staggering with a shout. Laredo tackled him, one hand at his forehead and the other at his chest, pinning Mariano to the grass. Wide, dark eyes met Laredo's, bloodthirsty and unseeing. He wasn't really seeing Mariano.

Somehow, that didn't help.

Magic sparked at Laredo's teeth.

Magic sparked at his palms, popping painfully against Mariano's skin.

Just as Laredo's magic fully gathered at his lips, blinding Mariano fully, he yelped. A glittering mass flew into Laredo's side with a roar, effortlessly knocking him from Mariano. Mariano shuddered as he rolled to his hands and knees, watching Bastian pin Laredo face-down with a hand in his hair.

"We're never splitting up on a frenzied mage search again." Bastian snarled. He dug his claws into the back of Laredo's neck, slicing a line across. In a rough motion, he dug out the curse stone and tossed it aside. "I don't care how fucking well you know them," He continued, silver glare piercing through Mariano. "You're not doing that alone again."

Mariano was quiet as he pulled his suture kit from his bag. He crawled towards Bastian and the panting, limp, bleeding Laredo. He sat down at Laredo's side, struggling to thread the curved needle. The special thread just kept trembling too hard.

"Thank you." He finally said, as he got the needed threaded and started stitching Laredo up. "I...I agree."

Bastian's vicious pin let up just a little. Laredo didn't squirm as Mariano worked, closing his eyes in relief. "...I can leave." Laredo offered.

"No." Both Bastian and Mariano said at the same time.

"Shut up." Bastian continued, taking his knee from the small of Laredo's back and releasing the grip he had on his hair. "You'll just sleep on one side of me and Mariano'll sleep on the other."

Andrew sniffed, pulling back to itch his nose on the topmost layer of the mountain of blankets he was buried in.

“You’d let him kidnap you?” Snow asked.

“Yeah, I’d… I’d let him uh.” Andrew paused, his thoughts leaving him for a moment as another tremor wracked through his body. He’d never been this cold before. He tried to focus on what he was saying… What was he saying?

“…You should lay down.” Snow offered, they placed one hand at the back of Andrew’s neck and tried to ease him down with their other hand against his chest.

Andrew gripped the back of the couch and suddenly pulled himself back into a sitting position. “I’d let him–uh! Kidnap me. At eight o' clock. On a Friday. But he has to clean his car first.”

Snow’s hand hovered in place for a second, but they promptly placed a pillow down and tried to lower Andrew down again. Andrew didn’t fight this time, but he didn’t stop talking either.

“He can take me to TJ’s on the Lake. Or that restaurant on the riverboat if he’s feeling fancy. Do you guys have the money for that?”

Snow didn’t answer. They made sure Andrew’s feet were covered by the mountain of blankets.

“He also… also has to carry me inside. Like how he carried me to the van today.”

“Hm. I’ll let him know.” Snow answered. They brought the mug up to Andrew’s lips again. “How do you feel?”

“I feel optimistic.” Andrew said when they took the mug away. “Like, there’s some potential. It depends on if we have anything in common, or if he’s got any red flags I don’t know about. I don’t normally go for blondes either, but–”

“I mean physically.” Snow interrupted. “How do you feel physically?”

“Oh, bad.”

Snow nodded. “Stay awake. I’m going to see where our electric blanket is.”

Andrew nodded, looking up to the ceiling. “Are you sure I’m not kidnapped?”

Snow looked over their shoulder, “I think I would know.”

Andrew played with the fleece of the blanket. He was grateful to be able to feel his fingers again. “You wouldn’t tell me though. You’d just do something like… Throw me in a van and drive me to a warehouse. And give me poison tea.”

Snow paused, turning to lean against the door for a moment. “And dry clothes?”

“Yeah.” Andrew nodded.

“And lots of blankets?” They asked.

“Yeah, you wanna keep me alive.”

Snow thought for a moment, taking a deep breath before they answered. “Well, I’m sure you have lots of vital information behind all your fantasies about my teammate. But this isn’t a kidnapping.

“You’ll die out there.” Snow motioned toward the window. “We’ll let you leave as soon as the storm passes.”

Andrew looked out the window, sniffing again as he watched the storm outside. He looked back to Snow, feeling every bit as pitiful as he must have looked.

Snow crossed in front of him. They lifted his head to place another pillow gently beneath him. “In the meantime, you’re safe. The tea’s not poisoned. I’m going to get a regular, safe, non-lethal electric blanket for you.”

Andrew nodded. He moved one hand to blindly feel for the back of the couch again. Snow took his wrist and eased him back down into the pillows.

Luis' expression shifted through several expressions before settling on confusion. "What...no." He said, as his almost thirty-year-old subordinate pouted.

"Not on the lips!" Laredo argued, committing to the bit. "On the forehead! You never give us good night kisses!"

The others held their breath. Mariano almost wasn't sure what to do from here. Laredo was the one least likely to get yelled at over a joke like this, and he was glad that Manuel hadn't decided to ask.

Luis pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he let out a tired laugh. "If all the objectives get done before the time limit is halfway over, we'll see about one. Now go to bed."

The living room erupted into cheers from all five men, and Luis left, still shaking his head as he closed the front door.

--

"We're gonna die here." Manuel muttered, huddled up in a corner. His knees were drawn to his chest as Mariano stitched a deep gash in his arm closed.

Dimitri shot a glare at their medic from his post at the doorway of their dim room. "We're not going to die here." He hissed. "I don't care that this was a fucking trap. We don't die."

Laredo nodded. "Remember? A war mage isn't dead until there are two bullets in his brain."

Izan hummed. "I still think one is enough for that. I don't think I'd want to fight after getting shot in the head, at all."

"I would." Dimitri growled. "I'd wanna take it out and reforge it and then shoot it back. Our magic is hot enough, it wouldn't take long."

Mariano nodded, frowning. "I don't think I'd want to shoot the bullet back, but I'd want to hit them with my magic."

"But what if you can't see them?" Izan asked. "Because of the blood, or whatever."

"He has two hands, and his mouth." Laredo said. "He doesn't cast from his eyes, and that's still like. Three chances."

Manuel hummed. "It might work, I guess."

"Alright, alright." Dimitri said, rolling his eyes. "If Manuel isn't bleeding out anymore, we need to get out of here. We only have fifteen before Luis leaves."

The others collectively grumbled their agreement, donning their casting masks and gloves again before resuming their escape.

--

"I still don't know how you survived that, Rookie." Izan said, sipping the margarita that Laredo had poured. "I thought you would've been crushed."

Dimitri laughed. "Yeah, I saw that whole building coming down on you and thought you were about to just be a stain on the concrete."

Mariano took a long drink, relishing the burn of the alcohol he absolutely was not supposed to have. Laredo had insisted, and given him the group's special cup. It was the one with glitter inside the plastic that rolled around as you tilted it.

"Oh, me too." He said, setting it down on the table as he leaned back in his seat. "I thought I was gonna just--." Mariano held one hand up, parallel to the floor, and clapped his other hand firmly against it.

"You even dug your way out in like, five minutes." Laredo said, sliding a water towards Mariano. "The guys who did it had barely left."

"Guess I'm just a cockroach, huh?" Mariano said, grinning.

Manuel started laughing, gripping his own arms as he threatened to tip over onto the floor. "I like it--I wanna be a cockroach." He said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Me too," Laredo said, grinning. "Let's be cockroaches. You can't just assume we're dead until you actually see us die."

"To being cockroaches." Izan said.

"Cockroaches!" The rest of them echoed, raising their drinks high.

--

Luis came back into the briefing room, two boxes of pizza balanced on one hand. He didn't look happy, but he also didn't look furious. "Laredo." He said, dropping both boxes onto the meeting table. "This is a secure site, you cannot order pizza to here."

"I didn't!" Laredo said, with the desperation of a man wrongly accused. "I swear, I don't even have my phone on me." He pointed at the metal lock-box where their personal affects were stored before missions.

"You can schedule a delivery." Luis argued. "I've done that before, when I knew my day would be busy."

"No! Guys, back me up. I wouldn't do that again." Laredo pleaded, looking around the room.

Dimitri shrugged. "You only got twenty laps the last time you did it, I don't know..."

"Dimitriiii." Laredo dropped his head to the table as he whined, defeated.

Luis shook his head, opening his mouth to start lecturing his elite group of soldiers who certainly should have known better, when there was a knock at the door. It opened after a moment, and Luis' direct boss poked his head in, looking concerned. Luis looked over, tone already lightening up. "General Lanzo, how can I--"

The general's face washed over with relief when he saw the pizza on the table. "Ah, there it is, thank you Luis." He said, fully entering the room, paper plates in hand. "I don't know why they called you, I gave my name and number to the pizza place for the driver."

Luis watched in disbelief as the man in charge of him started loading pepperoni pizza slices from the top box onto the plates and passing them out to the war mages.

"I had a feeling this might happen, so I ordered an extra." General Lanzo handed Luis his plate last. "As thank you, for driving out to the gate to get it and putting up with my interruption. Enjoy!" With a wave, he picked up the empty box, along with his own, and left the room.

All five mages looked between each other, then to Luis, still frozen and holding his cheap paper plate. They were silent until Manuel spoke up. "So...can we...?"

Defeated, Luis dropped down into his chair, massaging his temples. He waved a hand, picking up his own pizza. "Yes. Yes. Ten minutes." He said, wearily. "It would be a waste of the protocol breach not to."

"I wish he was our boss." Izan said, as dry as ever.

"We...what is your plan?" Santiago asked, dark eyes glancing to Mariano as they huddled under their cover. Nerves tinged his normally-steady voice.

Mariano hummed, gaze staying on the dragon. "We can't sneak past it. We just need to run." He glanced to Santiago, making sure their jars of holy water were still wrapped and secure in Santiago's bag. "I'm going to keep its attention. No matter what happens, you just need to keep running."

Santiago swallowed before nodding. "Let's go." Together, they both burst from the cover.

The mass of brilliant, red scales went quiet. It turned its head. Mariano felt his blood chill as the dragon spotted them. He locked eyes with it. With a roar it charged, talons kicking chunks of dirt and flowers high up into the clear sky. Wings spread, head low to the ground, the dragon quickly started to close the distance.

Magic springing to his palms, Mariano turned his focus to his opponent. Santiago knew what to do. He knew he had to just keep running. Two shots of magic sailed through the air, hitting the dragon square in the nose and forehead. The shining plasma dispersed over the dragon's face like sparks from a campfire, not slowing it in the slightest.

Intense red eyes locked onto Mariano, though, ignoring the colorful priest in the fluttering clothes. It snarled out a challenge, sending fire spewing towards Mariano. He dove out of the way, rolling to his feet and back into a run. He needed to stay between Santiago and the dragon no matter what.

Mariano threw more magic, aiming at the dragon's face, blast after blast ineffectively bursting against the scales.

They were almost there. The wards around the town were just there, just another minute of running away. The sound of claws ripping through earth and snapping teeth were so nearby. A massive thud made Mariano whip his head around, just in time to see the dragon turning, furious eyes locked on them both.

The dragon's spine-covered tail sliced through the air. Santiago was still too close to be safe. Mariano lunged for him, managing to shove him to the grass, below the arc. The tip of the tail caught Mariano, wicked spikes digging into him.

Mariano's breath was stolen by the impact, unable to even cry out. He was flung through the air, past Santiago, to tumble to a stop in the flowers. Something was still lodged in him, he realized in his daze, as he tried to push himself back to his hands and knees.

Mariano collapsed, his limbs only managing to tremble when he tried again. Looking down, it didn't take more than a moment to figure out what had happened. One brilliant, ruby spine was sticking out from his stomach. It had torn through his shirt. When he breathed, it made his back scream.

He looked up again.

Santiago stood between him and the dragon now, broad shoulders squared. He had something in his hands, some glass jar filled with a powder. He wasn't running.

"No...!" Mariano gasped. He tried to pull his magic to his hands, but Santiago reaching into his bag stopped him.

The dragon snapped its jaws toward them, and in a flash, Santiago ripped the lid off and threw the jar at its mouth. The dragon jerked as its jaws closed, long neck recoiling backwards with a harsh cough. As though the jar had been filled with the most disgusting thing the young dragon had ever tasted, it scrambled away.

"What...?" Mariano tried to ask what that was. Did Santiago have dragon repellent on him for these trips?

Santiago's attention turned to Mariano then, as he hurried over and knelt at his side. "Oh--gracious." His hands hovered over Mariano's torso, fingers hardly even coming close to the wicked spine lodged in him. "That's. That's going all the way through you."

Mariano swallowed and nodded. "We...I have brink potions." He said. "In my bag."

"Will it be enough?" Santiago asked, eyes finally breaking away from the wound to focus on Mariano's face. "We have doctors in town."

Mariano reached a hand up to place on Santiago's forearm, trying to take a breath. "It will...it will keep me stable. Just...help me back to the temple, first. Please. I can walk."

Santiago looked Mariano over again and hummed. "Back to the temple, then. We can call for a doctor on the way."

Instead of reaching for Mariano's outstretched hand, Santiago scooped him up into his arms and stood. Mariano couldn't help the undignified squeak that escaped, or how he twisted his fingers into Santiago's robes. "Santiago, what--"

"It wouldn't be right to risk you hurting yourself worse. We aren't far now." Santiago said, holding Mariano carefully as he started picking up his pace. "I've got you." His voice was careful, exceedingly gentle, and made Mariano's chest twist in a new, different way. "You'll be okay."

Mariano couldn't exactly argue with that, especially as the pain began to dull to a consistent ache. "Thank you." He said, starting to relax in Santiago's arms. Santiago knew what to do.

Mariano relaxed, listening to the voice when it told him to breathe deeper. It said he wasn't in trouble. Something uncoiled in his chest at those words. He started to hear them clearer.

"I don't know many mages who could've fought those pills as long as you did, Ortiz." It said. "You didn't want to fail, did you?"

Mariano hummed, a vague noise that tipped downwards. "Nn..."

"You did fail." The voice didn't sound angry. "I recognize an impossible battle when I see one, though." The hand on his forehead stayed where it was. It kept Mariano still against his pillow. "You went down fighting."

The hand left and blankets were pulled up higher, to Mariano's shoulders.

"I'll remember how hard you tried, even when you knew you couldn't win. I like that in my soldiers." A chair scraped against the floor.

The voice was farther away, harder to understand as the fog rolled back in and started to swallow Mariano. "Rest now, Marito. Relax. You're responding today, so you're almost through it. You'll be awake tomorrow."