Phoenix Rising

He could pick out his… teammates? friends? colleagues?- easily out of the crowd. They all wore similar suits, all tailored slightly different to accentuate each man in the perfect, pretty package.

The others in the room, men and women forming groups of two or three around each coveted prize, were also similar. They all had the same haughty laugh. The same expensive jewelry. The same dangerous look in their eyes. Mason half expected a forked tongue to dart out of their mouths.

Ethan Sinclair, holding court in the middle of the room, of course, had the biggest crowd. Ten, Mason counted to distract himself. Mason didn’t know him well but he knew enough that this was to be expected. Sabre was Cerberus royalty, son of the director of the science division and a favorite of well, everyone. If the suits were all tailored to show off the best parts of them, he snorted into his glass when he realized Ethan had the tightest pants. The man used that to his advantage, moving and leaning to the music as he talked in a way that drew eyes down his body more than once. Mason turned away from the sight when a long, pointed fingernail tapped his shouler.  

The lives of the investors were top secret. But each of the men were given dossiers of a few simple facts. Their name , their favorite drink. Conversation pieces. Mason of course had memorized everything. He was ready. 

Standing in front of him was Irinia Sarkov, the woman who had held the top donor spot since this project began. That made her the bullseye of the room, and she had come to him. Take that, Sinclair. 

“Well what do we have here.” She purred, and something about her made something in Mason immediately recoil. Impressing her would impress his bosses and that's all that mattered, so he smiled, thought of the information given to him in her dossier and opened his mouth to speak.

“Irinia, hello love.” A familiar British accent said from beside him, suddenly appearing out of thin air.

“Oh hello Sabre. I was just inspecting the new one here. He’s pretty.” Her hand moved from her glittering diamonds at her neck to Ethan’s chest in a too familiar way as he moved to stand beside her.

“Of course he is, he’s one of us. You know we don’t let ugly people in. It’s against our morals.” Ethan replied in a mock offended tone. He slid an arm around the woman's waist. She laughed and once again for a reason Mason couldn't explain, the sound sent chills up his spine.

“Listen darling,"  Ethan continued, placing his free palm over her hand that still lay on his chest, scooping it into his own. I have a new trick to show you , if you’ll allow me the honor. In private."

"Of course my dear!" She said it as though she were doing him a favor, but her eyes never stopped scanning Mason head to toe. "Just make sure no one gets the new one before me alright? I don’t want to test drive a new car that’s already scratched…."

"Anything for our queen.” Ethan bowed dramatically, kissing the hand he held before leading her away.

Mason stood slack jawed for just a moment before cursing over what missed opportunity just unfolded before his eyes, finally finding the word he was searching for the other men earlier. Competition. And Ethan Sinclair was his biggest competitor.

 —-

"Heard Sabre traded for you the other night."

One of his competitors said with a full mouth, as the man sat down across from him in the mess hall. Mason hadn't learned his name or callsign yet. Too many came and went these days to keep track.

"Traded?"

"Did you a solid. A favor. Took one for the team. Need I go on? The boys said he scooped her away from you. I haven’t had the experience personally, but that woman?" He shivered dramatically. "I’ve heard horror stories."

"Irinia?"

Nodding, the man scooped more food into his mouth and talked around it. "Let’s just say... she likes to break her toys. Probably why Sabre wasn’t at training yesterday. He was probably in the analeptic chamber recovering." He laughed at his own humor and Mason frowned as a small piece of corn shot out of the man's mouth. "Anyway, he must like you, no one goes after her willingly."

"Sabre!"

Mason turned in the direction of the yell from a man three chairs down and watched as Ethan Sinclair wearing nothing but a low slung towel across his hips walked across the other side of the room, flexing and kissing his bicep in response to the call. Mason silently rose, exiting the same direction as some of the men shook their heads and some laughed at the show.

"Hey." Mason called to the man several long strides ahead of him in the hall. "Hey, Sabre."

Ethan's steps slowed before eventually coming to a stop. Throwing the apple in his hand up and down in boredom until Mason caught up.

"I just wanted to thank you. For what you did. I heard, well it was my first investor function and I've heard she's... a lot to deal with."

"I didn't do it for you Huntsman. I was making a move. For me." Ethan bit into the apple, a strand of wet hair falling into his face with the movement. "It's a eat or be eaten world here. I'd suggest you learn how to take a bite." He tossed the bitten apple to the other man, not waiting for a response as he walked away.

----

"You were so mean to me back then." Mason said as he finished telling his side of the memory. He rested against his husband in their bed, eyes half closed, lulled to relaxation with the sound of ship's engines humming.

Mason's body shook with the movement of Ethan's laugh. "I envied you. You were so goddamn innocent. I grew up around it. I saw the evils. You come strolling in with your beautiful, angelic face, optimistic attitude and I hated you because I could never go back to that. I was also not looking forward to the day you would lose that, as so many before already had.”

“So did you really do that for me? Intercept her?”

Ethan’s voice dropped into a low, serious tone. “Of course I did.”

"So what you’re saying is, you were in love with me."

Ethan ran his fingers through the other man's dark hair. "No, in the beginning I mostly wondered if those gorgeous eyes would be even more gorgeous when looking up at me while your lips were wrapped around my dick."

"Okay funny guy. So when they finally did wrap around your dick, did you fall in love with me then?"

"No," Ethan's fingers stroked through the strands absentmindedly. "I was already in love with you by then."

Mason sat up at that, brows lifting in surprise. "I never knew that."

"I’m a good pretender." Ethan shrugged, averting his eyes.

"Now that, I did know." He slid his palm over his husbands cheek to draw his hazel eyes back to him. "When?"

"When what?"

Mason gave an exasperated sigh. "When did the infamous player lover boy Ethan Sinclair fall in love with little ol' Mason Knight?"

"When you saved the ducks, of course."

Mason's head jerked in confusion before his gaze drifted off, thinking. "Wait a minute. The radiation ducks???"

"You stopped right in the middle of a full blown reconnaissance mission to rescue those stupid ducks. We had been together for years at that point. We had been through everything imaginable. We had seen plenty of guys not make it, either they changed too much or didn't change enough. But you, it never changed you. It never rocked those righteous virtues inside of you. It was like no matter what horrible things were thrown at us it never scratched your soul."

Mason's face was overcome with emotion before he took back control. Drawing one finger down Ethan's face he slowly leaned in to kiss his lips. "I wonder if they lived a happy life. Those ducks."

"Oh they definitely died. A horrible death. And soon."

"Eth!"

"Mason. They lived on a planet with such a high radiation element nothing could survive for long. Bloody hell, one of them had three beaks."

Mason chuckled and snuggled back down into the crook of Ethan's arm. "So, what did Irinia do, anyway?"

---

Steam curled from his naked torso until a cold wind ripped the particles of water apart, dissolving the wisps of moisture from the air.

Ethan didn’t notice. He swung the axe again, muscles bulging and arms burning with the hours of effort, adding another strip of wood to the graveyard of broken trees around him. Stumps and slivers of limbs sticking out of the snow at odd angles like mangled bodies. 

He heard her before he saw her. Light steps far away, his slightly damaged enhanced hearing picking out the cracking of twigs and crunch of snow. She wasn't making an effort to be quiet, knowing more than anyone how fruitless of an endeavor it would be.

Then he smelled her. The same expensive perfume drifting on the breeze. The same beautiful, lavish scent that accompanied some of his most painful memories.

"Hello dear." She waited to speak the words until she was sure her painfully normal hearing would hear his response.

"How in the bloody hell did you find me?"

Cynthia Sinclair's lips quirked into a half smirk, blonde bob swaying as she came to a stop a few feet away. She knew he'd already know.

"I’m going to kill him."

"Your husband only has your best interest in mind." Cynthia's slim shoulders shrugged and her nonchalance as she adjusted her gloves irked him. "He has always been smarter than you."

"For once we agree on something."

"So, no 'hello mum? How have you been?' No hug? Just out here playing house I see." She glanced around the clearing Ethan had made out of the thick forest.

Ethan analyzed her every move, trying to read the situation. He hated that she was always one step ahead of him. "I’m enjoying what was almost taken from me."

"You’re lost."

"I’m protecting what’s mine." He shot back, internally flinching from the memory of Mason going down, enveloped in fire and smoke and thinking it was the end of everything he lived for.

"You’re hiding."

Ethan's grip tightened, the wooden handle of the axe splintering slightly under the pressure. "I'm going to ask you one more time before I very politely throw you off of my land, mother. What. do. you. want?"

"My little birdies told me you have a lab. Or know someone who does." Cynthia brushed snowflakes off of an eyelash. "One that specializes in fixing... people that regular doctors can't fix. Due to my ties, many of them reached out to me after the war. I can't help them Ethan. You can."

"Many? Are you telling me there are multiple Phoenix still out there?"

"I'm not sure of the exact number. And not all Phoenix. Ex Cerberus operatives in general. There are still things in motion, you know. The minions of evil in the world did not stop just because their king died. And those that did are lost. Broken. Just like you lot were after everything you knew was upended on it's axis."

"How am I supposed to believe you? It always ends up being about you, mother. What do you get out of what you're asking me? Are you looking to do harm, or good?"

"I'm not the bad guy Ethan. I never was. There is still work to be done. If you want to be a part of it." She said with a casual wave of her hand towards the gray sky. "Out there. Not here. I didn't raise my son to be a quitter."

Ethan laughed then, a bitter unnatural sound that cut through the silence in an eerie way. "That would be true if you deserved any of the credit of raising me."

"Well." Cynthia ducked her head and turned quickly, and Ethan wasn't sure if his eyes were finally failing when he was sure he caught a glimpse of something, regret, sadness, in the eyes that were an exact replica of his. "You have my contact information. It hasn't changed. And if it does you will still be able to track it down. Think about it."

No goodbye. There were never goodbye's with her, Ethan thought as he watched her turn on her heel and disappear back into the trees. Never answers. Never protection. Never love. His brain continued to abuse him and he abandoned the axe to start pulling logs apart with his hands instead. His guttural yell accompanied a particularly strong piece of lumber, the reinforced sinews in his arms straining for just a moment before the log shattered into pieces. He stood in the falling snow staring at the direction she had disappeared until the sky grew dark.

———

“He wants us to retire to Italy one day. A vineyard was mentioned. Can you imagine? Nic and I running a vineyard with 15 kids running around?

"Yes. Yes I can." Mason said seriously.

"Yeah.... me too." Marie's image on the holo screen replied and they both laughed.

Mason flinched when the front door banged open against the wall, letting in a small flurry of snow onto the wooden floor.

"Rie. I gotta go."

"Okayyy. Let me know if I need to kick his ass." She didn't have to specify who's ass she was referring to. "Loveyoucallmelater!"

"I’m guessing she found you." Mason said after disconnecting the call and sliding a prepared glass of whiskey to the nearest chair at the kitchen island, green eyes tracking the movement of his husband.

"And I'm guessing you already know everything she said?" Ethan ground out, flopping into the chair and downing the ounce of golden liquid in one gulp.

"Not everything, I'm sure. But you know I've been talking to her, that's no secret."

"How could you give her our location before making sure I'm ok with it? Why didn't you come to ME first so I'm not blind sighted out there in my happy place?"

You mean your hiding place.

"What?"

Mason started, not realizing he had whispered the words out loud. "I did come to you Eth. You've been ignoring me or changing the subject when I bring it up for months now."

The two men studied each other as the snow fell past the windows, in the quiet kitchen of the cabin that had been their safe place after the world almost ended. One needing less and one needing more, letting their bodies heal, making up for lost time with hands and lips in the darkness, now both trying to figure out how to move forward.

"You still need rest."

"I don't." Mason slammed his palm onto the marble countertop. There had been too many days Ethan had hurled those words at him that saw household objects hurled back in response, glowing blue, sailing through the air at Ethan's head. Ethan had always been protective, but it had increased ten fold since the war and both of their recoveries. But he knew the words this time were Ethan's last defense, his last throw before he gave in, and with that realization the fight faded from Mason's limbs.

"I'm fine." Mason continued, now calm, swinging his arm in a circle as proof and hiding the wince in his eyes the best he could. Mason stepped behind his husband, sliding his arms around him to rest his cheek against the other man's stubble. "No matter what her intentions are, if there are more of us still out there, we need to find them."

"I'm not done talking -and probably yelling- about this." Ethan sighed in resignation, entwining his fingers with Mason's, the metal of their rings clicking against each other. "But I guess we have to pack."

“Four weeks.” Mason’s voice was heavy with emotion as a tall silhouette walked away from the ship and towards him. 

“Felt like four years.” The reply reached him before the hands did, carried on a deep baritone threaded through a posh accent. 

Mason breathed as a manicured nail trailed along his jawline.