Steffen‌:

   Steffen had done his best to sleep the night before, but it hadn’t been well and probably wouldn’t be until Thomas was out of hospital. He didn’t think Drake was faring much better, there in how they wound up sat together on the couch. That was a regular occurrence, but the time of the morning it was done (way too early) and the reasons why weren’t. In their own way, they offered what comfort they could. Listening to Drake talk was enough for Steffen to absorb more fully how frightened his best friend had been of losing his brother in greater depth. There was knowing it intellectually and there was knowing in how Drake moved, restless and still not quite able to believe things were going to be fine.

   He made Drake his priority that morning, and not simply because Thomas had asked him to. What else were best friends meant to be for? Steffen focused on making sure he ate, on putting one of his favourite things on the TV, on clumsily trying to find ways to show he cared without smothering him. By midday, he’d left to go and see Thomas at the hospital while visiting hours still lasted. It hadn’t occurred to him that other people would be in there. “Hi, pleased to meet you,” he greeted Wesley and Ryanne (Rosett), couldn’t associate them with the man responsible for Thomas being there in the first place. So this is what they’re like. He hid a small smile at the kiss to Thomas’ cheek and the options presented; clearly, they knew him by now. The exchange of handshakes followed, and then they left. “They seem nice,” he said after a moment, smiled a little. “Were they here long?”

   Thomas’ words suggested he’d arrived at just the right instant. “Was this one of those moments where my timing wasn’t actually bad?” Steffen quipped, tilting his head at Thomas as he approached, moved carefully into his arms. He’d noticed the wince, of course he had, but he knew not to make something of it by now besides looking at Thomas briefly, careful to keep his hands away from the other’s back. “Who else has been in besides your foster parents?” he asked, a little curious when it was remarked upon as a busy day. “I’m all right. Didn’t sleep too well so woke up early, but Drake was awake too, so I made breakfast.” Studying his boyfriend, he watched him more closely. “And you? How are you managing?” Leaning in, he accompanied the question with a quick, soft kiss to Thomas’ cheek. “As much as I love texting you, there really is no substitute for actually seeing you and being able to ask.”

  They seem nice. Thomas wanted to laugh. He didn’t, aware that it was highly inappropriate and that it had to be the influence of the painkillers, but the urge was real. They were nice, Wesley and Ryanne. They were some of the nicest people Thomas had ever met. Their relation to Gavin Rosett didn’t make any sense to Thomas now. Back when he was sixteen, however, he had believed that Wesley and Ryanne just had to be siding with Gavin and the council because there was no other reason why they would want to foster Drake and him in Thomas’ mind. “They are,” he said. “They were here for half an hour. It seems that they sacrificed part of their workdays to be here, which is very kind of them and totally unnecessary.” He had told them at much, but the words had been dismissed. “Your timing was good. I can only take very small doses of Ryanne and Wesley and I was reaching my limit.” They meant well, Thomas knew that. But being with them always inspired a bunch of different emotions that he was not always equipped to deal with.   When Steffen sat down onto the bed and curled up into Thomas’ arms, a little smile played with his lips momentarily. “Actually. Funny story.” The undertone of his voice replied that it was no such thing, but he carried on talking. “The council needs a new head of Economics. They were smart enough to just have tortured their favorite candidate, so now they’re looking for someone else.” Using distance from the subject was the only way he could deal with this, so he changed the narrative a little. Steffen would get it. “I’ve been messaging with Drake as well,” he said. “I’m okay under the circumstances. It all hurts a little less than yesterday, so that’s progress. Did you come across Suze in the hallway or did you just sneak in? I’m not opposed to sneaking. Maybe I’ll hide you under my bed and keep you overnight.”

  Right after lunch, Thomas had gotten some unexpected visitors. A short while after that another two less unexpected visitors appeared. Suzanne walked in first, apologizing again, and emphasizing he needed his rest, before she let the two new visitors in. Thomas had just woken up again from a short nap and didn’t expect to be smothered with concern. Half an hour later the door opened a third time that midday and this time the person that Thomas had been hoping to see actually turned up. Unfortunately it was bad timing.    “Steffen, this is Wesley and Ryanne,” Thomas said matter-of-fact, introducing the red-haired woman who sat on the foot end of his bed and the dark-haired man seated on the chair next to his bed. “And this is my boyfriend Steffen,” he added. “They were just leaving, anyway.”   “You call us,” Ryanne said as she got up from the bed and made her way over to Thomas, who was sitting on the other end of the bed. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “If you don’t call we’ll come by again. Pick your poison, Thomas.”   Wesley kept it to a handshake and a smile as Ryanne offered to shake hands with Steffen. “Just call us,” he was told softly before Wesley turned to introduce himself to Steffen as well.    When the door was closed behind his foster parents, Thomas let himself fall back against the pillow very slowly and grimaced regardless. He closed his eyes and opened his arms for Steffen, gesturing for him to sit with Thomas. “Thank you for that,” he said. “It has been a busy day in this specific hospital room. First things first, though. How are you? How was your night?” They had been texting, of course, but it wasn’t the same. 

Steffen‌:

   The look spoke volumes, but Steffen wasn’t going to press his luck further right then. Instead, he focused on Thomas, startled a little when the other laughed. It was the mention of Gavin Rosett that lit a fire behind Steffen’s eyes, far more so than either of the other two council members, but he restrained himself. “What did they want?” Because he could think of multiple reasons that they’d choose to visit, differing from person to person, but Thomas had been at this for longer. He understood how they thought better than Steffen did, and he knew it. It was, however, enough to make his stomach roll with disgust to hear that there was actual footage of their time together in the hot tub. “I should have guessed that,” he said, once he was certain he could speak without using expletives. “That makes me feel a lot worse about using the journal, and it was already bad enough. I would have at least hesitated if I’d known, but bit late for me to say that now.” It wasn’t just the fact that they’d been spied on in a moment that had been incredibly private and intimate, it was the fact that it was Thomas they were spying on specifically. Steffen could hold a grudge like a pro when he really wanted to, and this ticked all of the boxes; they’d invaded moments where they didn’t belong, tortured the man he loved and compounded it all by dragging them through it in public. The resistance had already been personal, but the council had just ensured that there was another level of motivation involved now.

   “Dwight doesn’t have it, I do.” Steffen’s voice had lowered in answer to the question about the journal. “He and I knew better than to leave it where it’d go into the case evidence archives, but I wasn’t sure what you’d want me to do with it, so keeping it with me was the safest option.” Because all it took was one council member going and searching for it, if they’d been stupid enough to leave it laying around, and Steffen didn’t know what else was in there. “Do you want it now or is there somewhere I can put it so no one touches it?” He wasn’t going to answer what Thomas said about the vault, simply because a person didn’t have a vault so other people could access it easily.

   When Thomas moved, Steffen’s lips parted, about to belatedly say he shouldn’t, but his lover obviously knew that and it meant when he reached for Steffen, he moved with him. When arms went around him and a kiss was pressed to his hair, his eyes closed briefly. Thomas. “Super itchy. I might have to bring you some sheets from your place, this is just unacceptable compared to your usual several thousand thread count tastes,” he said, mock-serious, eventually opened his eyes to look up at Thomas and run fingertips along his cheek, a place that he figured was safe to touch without the risk of causing pain. Once Steffen was done listening, he inevitably had questions, but he only asked one. “I know you’re not going to tell me the full story, but just one thing. Why does he hate you enough to do this much? That makes it more than just about the council.” No, Rosett having it out for Thomas spoke to something much more personal, and Steffen wasn’t going to make guesses. “You don’t have to answer, but I consider him one of the main factors that put you in hospital.”

   Hiding out in the hospital room was something that Stefen did understand. “I’ll look out for Drake,” he promised softly. “Make sure he’s fed and that kind of thing.” Drake had been his best friend long before Thomas was anything more to him than the other’s elder brother that he didn’t know so well. The remark that he couldn’t be around while they changed the bandages was met with a short nod, because on this he would do as Thomas asked even if he disliked it. Turning his head after Thomas kissed his cheek, he gently caught the corner of the other’s lips with his own. “I hate that that’s necessary, but I’ll do it,” he said. “Is it your back? I don’t want to accidentally hurt you by touching you in the wrong place.” It was clear too that Thomas might not expect to sleep all that much in the hospital. “I could bring you some more music for it, if you’d like?” he asked tentatively. “Then in a way I’ll be here with you, since I doubt they’d let me stay overnight. Suzanne would have to kick me out.” More seriously, he studied Thomas a little longer. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

  What did they want? Wasn’t that the question that every person asked in every room that a head council member ever walked into? “Well, that’ existential,” Thomas said, a little gin on his face momentarily. “Well, Gavin Rosett was leading my interrogation. He was doing his job. Can’t really blame him for doing the thing that gets him paid.” What he could be blamed for was being a vile human being, but that was beside the point. “Cassandra Owens was ironically concerned about my mental health. She’s taking social affairs too literally. And Sydney Reyes realized I can’t walk away from him in a jail cell the way I usually do when I come across him. Clever man.” Too bad that he was so irritating and that his son Antony had ruined Thomas’ life. Well, it was all over now, and Thomas got to suffer through the aftermath but at least he wasn’t going to jail as the aftermath. He was good with that reality, he found.   The journal, or journals plural, were starting to feel like a discussion point that would return at a later point. Thomas may have to burn them. “It’s fine,” he said in regards of the journal being used in court. “I hated it, but it may well have saved me ten years in prison.” He was as realistic as that. He may not like it, but it was true: if it hadn’t been for the journal entries that Steffen picked, letting the words speak for Thomas, he may have been going to jail and they would not be having this conversation. “I want it now,” he said calmly. “I know a place. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t trust almost anyone else.” And Dwight knew all too well he shouldn’t have it in his hands because it was such a liability. That was why Thomas didn’t want anyone else touching it. It was his liability. He created it. Therefore it was his problem.   He didn’t think that Steffen would be serious about bringing Thomas his own sheets, but he could never be too sure. “These sheets are fine,” he said. “All things considered they’ll probably change them at least once a day.” The blankets would start smelling like the bandages and Thomas didn’t think anyone that had to be in this room would like that. “Besides. Brooke slept in my sheets. So if you’re feeling productive, throw them out and order new ones.” It was time to renovate everything in his house that Brooke had anything to do with. He cared a great deal about his ex-girlfriend, but he needed the memories out of his house if it was ever going to feel like his own home again. “What are you gonna do? Move in with Sydney, Antony and Brooke?” he queried, looking over at Steffen. “I love you, but I’m not telling you what Gavin has on me. It’s petty and stupid and we’ve been at it for years. It’s not important.” And that was that.   Thomas had done his share of hiding in hospital rooms when he was some years younger, but he doubted Steffen could connect the dots right now. “Just make sure he talks to someone,” Thomas said in regards of Drake. “Noa, or you, or anyone will do.” He pulled a face at Steffen at the kiss, but it wasn’t for the kiss (of course not): it was for the fact that he was trying to make a point and Steffen wasn’t letting him and therefore missed what he was really trying to say and just take it for fact instead. “I’m not kicking you out for me,” he clarified. “I’m kicking you out for you. After this week and today I can’t be humiliated any further. No dignity left. But you may still be affected by seeing it and that’s why I don’t want you here.” That he needed to make clear and he doubted that he had. “It is my back, and I don’t want more music,” he said. “I want to hear the music I already know, not new stuff I never heard before. Thank you, though. That’s very thoughtful of you.” He smiled a little. “Suzanne may let you stay this night, if you ask her very nicely. But you shouldn’t want to.” And wit that remark in mind, the next remark that Steffen made surely was necessarily. “I do know that. I think.”  

Steffen:

   The grin on Thomas’ face hadn’t affected Steffen this way for a week or more, an ache there at the sight of it. It was the realisation that if things had gone differently, neither of them would be here in the hospital right now. He needed to process that a lot faster than he was. It happened to Thomas, not him. “Damn, I solemnly swear I won’t swear in court ever again lest it offend anyone’s precious ears, even if it was for the explicit purpose of rattling the prosecution,” he said, lips curling up at the corners just a little. “But also, Dwight isn’t quite crazy enough to give me an internship for real. Just enough to win cases.”

   It was the comment about the journal that made Steffen’s smile fade altogether, though, and his fingers loosened around Thomas’. “I read a couple of entries and I used them to a purpose. If you’re going to be mad at me over it, you have every right to be. It was an invasion of privacy, and I’m sorry that was the method I used.” But past a certain point, he would have done almost anything if he’d thought it would keep Thomas safe, and he wasn’t sure if Thomas knew it or not. His expression grew anxious when he saw the other wince, then annoyed right back when Thomas used the journal the way he did. It took him a moment before he spoke. “If I was arrogant enough to think I know exactly what goes on in your head, journal or not, you would never have trusted me with anything.” A nasty stab of self-doubt chose that moment to strike as well. Maybe he doesn’t now.

   Despite everything, Thomas started talking, and it was the obvious that neither of them had wanted to say, out between them like an open wound, another amongst many that the other carried now, if this was any indication. Steffen was an open book, and he didn’t doubt that Thomas could take a guess at what he was thinking. Right then, though, he didn’t want to be. Thomas didn’t need a white knight, so Steffen wasn’t going to act like one. Instead, he just listened, and watched the face of the man he loved, and made himself take in every detail. When he spoke, his throat was scratchy and it carried to his voice. “Dr Peterson knows what she’s talking about, and so do you,” he said, briefly toyed with Thomas’ fingers again before letting go, an attempt to disguise the returning tell of the way his hands wanted to shake. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you how sorry I am, or do any of that. It’d be like pity and that shouldn’t even be part of this. Because you’re still here. You beat them.” And that had been the terrifying part for Steffen: if they’d had long enough to break Thomas, there might not have been anything left of him.

   How are you feeling? Steffen took a moment to consider it. “Like an exposed nerve,” he said honestly. “But then again, I don’t bare my heart to a courtroom of people that often. To be expected, maybe.” Because so much, so very much of what he’d said had been private just to them, and now it wasn’t. Moving his left hand, he scrubbed against his eyes before looking back at Thomas. “Mostly though, I’m relieved that you’re out of there. Anything else is irrelevant compared to that.” A moment after that, he lifted the other’s hand and pressed his lips to it, almost identical to what Thomas had done in the interview room to him, before letting go altogether. “Is there anything you want that I can get for you or something?” His eyes landing on the music player, he nodded towards it. “Does that help, for a distraction?”

  Thomas looked over at Steffen with a sarcastic face expression, both for the remark about the expletives in court - he had been completely serious, thank you very much - and the remark about never getting an internship at Dwight’s firm. Clearly Steffen had not been paying attention. The Council was rather fond of nepotism and therefore so were they. If they didn’t have each other’s backs no one would have it. It was no coincidence that Kaya’s wife’s younger brother had an internship under Suzanne’s guidance. Steffen would learn, Thomas supposed. Learn to rely on the others in the resistance and learn to eat his words.    An invasion of privacy? The words made Thomas laugh, his laugh a little hoarse.”You don’t know half of it,” he said. “In my two wonderful days in the resort called prison, almost the entire council of the council came by. I had the pleasure of seeing Cassandra Owens, Sydney Reyes and of course Gavin Rosett. The latter also mentioned that they had security footage of the hot tub incident that they discussed during a council meeting. Not pictures. Footage.” Privacy? Thomas had never heard of that. The journal just made it a slightly bit worse. Footage was just that, but his thoughts were supposed to be his own. “Can I get it back?” he asked after a short pause. “Because Dwight can’t have that in his possession. And neither can I, actually. I need a new one and I need to put this one in my vault with the others.” Yes, he had a vault in his home office and he used it with good reason. He caught Drake trying to guess the code once or twice and he kept failing, so Thomas knew no one was going to figure it out.   The moment that Steffen spoke, as though he was struggling more with the reality of the situation than Thomas was, and let go of his hand, he did something he was explicitly told not to do. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached out for Steffen. “Help me out here, I hardly have any strength in my arms,” he said. The moment that Steffen willingly went along with him, Thomas settled back on the bed and drew the other in his arms. He pressed a kiss to his hair and smiled a little. “Now you can judge about the itchy hospital sheets,” he joked gently. “You don’t know this yet, but this is what we do, Gavin Rosett and I. He started it. Ever since I’m the criminal and he tries to get me imprisoned. It’s a weird game of cat and mouse where the stakes are way too high. But he hates me and I can’t change that.”  He smiled a little as Steffen spoke and pressed a kiss to his hand. “I feel the same and I didn’t even speak. Everything is out there. It’d be nice to hide in here until it feels less recent,” he said, only half-kidding. “Time heals a lot of things, Steffen.” But it left the nerves open that were most exposed and that would never go away. “You can make sure that Drake and you are okay. Oh, and I need you to stay away from this room before and after they change the bandages. You and everyone, because no one should see that.” He leaned in to press a kiss to Steffen’s cheek. “The music helps a little. I guess we’ll see how good it works tonight.”

Steffen: 

   Not guilty. Two words, and Steffen could suddenly breathe out again, unsteady and head spinning from everything that had unfolded in the past few days. But the relief didn’t last long, because he’d seen Thomas and the way he winced when he shrugged his shoulders the day before, the way he moved. Everything that had been shoved aside in favour of working towards getting Thomas out, following Dwight’s expert lead through the minefield of the criminal court, was suddenly raw at the surface. He’d torn his eyes from the face of the man he loved and looked at Drake, who looked as though he was weak with relief, took in the relief visible in their friends. It took a while for the anger to creep in. They put him through that. They hurt him.

   That was confirmed by the way that Thomas almost automatically disappeared with Jeffrey. He turned to Dwight immediately, but he hadn’t had to ask. He’d dropped Steffen off at the hospital, leaving him to pace the waiting area restlessly, unable to stay still, the lack of sleep probably starting to show by now. Drake and the others sat together, but he couldn’t settle. Instead, he went for some crappy coffee from the machine and a snack bar to keep him on his feet, got things for the others to be useful, but it didn’t stop him from nearly dissolving when Suzanne came to find them. “You can go and see him now, if you want to. He needed the rest.” Steffen simply nodded, as though all of the words that had come out in the courtroom had drained him. There were two that he managed just fine, though. “Thank you.”

   When he pushed the door open and Steffen caught sight of Thomas’ smile, the familiar sight of the music player he’d bought for him and earplugs in, his chest ached. “Hey yourself,” he said, and he managed to drum up a wink just for Thomas. The correlation between hospital and prison made Steffen pause, study him. “They take care of you here, though,” he offered, frowning a little as he watched Thomas. “Or Suzanne does, anyway. Did she boss you into resting? I’ve been getting acquainted with the terrible coffee. 0/10, do not recommend. Gave me the shakes.” Of course, the shaking hands had nothing to do with everything sinking in. Of course not. When his lover spoke again, though, Steffen barked out a startled laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile more genuine than most of those he’d flashed in court. “Noted, I accept the criticism,” he said, pretending to hang his head. “Definitely could have gone with something worse, though. Besides, I’m not all talk and no action, am I? Just had to do a lot of talking in the past few hours.”

   Steffen knew deflection when he heard it, because flirting had that advantage as well and he was fighting not to use it. He didn’t want to admit how scared he’d been when Thomas had likely just seen every emotion he had writ large for everyone to see, because he knew what to look for. What he did want was for Thomas to talk, but that was never going to be easy. “How have I been holding up?” he asked, eyebrows raised briefly, but no judgement in the question. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” It was a much softer statement than the words themselves might have suggested, coupled with Steffen moving to sit in the chair beside Thomas’ bed, reaching out for his hand. It was an offer of comfort in a way that didn’t involve saying you can tell me, but it was implicit in the gesture nonetheless that Steffen would listen to anything. “How are you holding up? Are the hospital sheets as itchy as ever?” It didn’t come out humorous the way it might have normally. “I know neither of us want to go where we need to,” he said quietly, and there was honesty behind it. “So I’m going to go first. What did they do to you that meant you had to come here as soon as the trial was over?”

  Apparently Steffen got to stay for a while. While it had never been himself before who was subject to Suzanne’s quick hands and no-nonsense attitude, he knew that she was focused on her patients and doing what had to do be done as quickly and painless as possible. She send Jeffrey away because he would only be in the way and while historically Jeffrey and Suzanne always had something to argue about, he didn’t say a word to the request for him to leave. So when Steffen walked through the door and proceeded to close it behind him and make his way towards the bed, Thomas supposed that Suzanne had decided that he rested enough so he could at least have one visitor for a little bit.   Thomas pulled the earplugs out of his ears gently and put both the earplugs and the music player on the nightstand next to the bed. “Suzanne’s job is bossing her patients around and we all listen because she healed us and she’s the one with the painkillers,” he said matter-of-fact and with a little grin on his face. Where was the joke, after all. Suzanne knew exactly what she was doing and did it very effectively. He never had hospital coffee before, so he couldn’t comment on that count. He was the person that would stop to get coffee on the way to the hospital, though. “I’m just saying. The court is a sacred place. If you dare swear in a court room again, Dwight will fire you from this non-existent and possibly future existing internship.”   He sighed, clearly annoyed, once Steffen played the I’ll tell you if you tell me card twice in less than a minute. He watched how the other sat down on the chair next to the bed and Thomas attempted to sit down closer to him, the movement resulting in a painful grimace. “Do we really need to go where you think we have to?” he queried as he let the other hold his hand. “I don’t think we have to. I don’t, at least, because you read my journal. You know all about what goes on in my head now. I don’t need to talk.” Was that unfair? Yes, so much. Did he care? No, not particularly. He was in plenty of pain all by himself and didn’t need this conversation adding to it. But he had to, and he knew it.   It was with another sigh that he looked aside at Steffen. “I’m not going into specifics,” he declared. “They tortured me to get information about some sort of resistance movement. They quit the moment you give them information. But I didn’t have any clue about any resistance movement, so you can guess how that went.” He paused to reach out for the glass of water on his nightstand and proceeded to take a sip before he continued to speak. “I’m going to be here for a while, since according to Dr. Peterson it’s pretty bad. The nurses have to change the bandages a couple of times per day and keep giving me painkillers. So I better get used to the itchy sheets, it seems.” He was relaxed throughout the entire explanation, because forcing himself to relax was the only way he could get through it. “Your turn. How are you feeling?”

As soon as the judge said the thankfully correct words – ‘Not guilty’ – Dwight all but pulled him up from the chair and told him exactly what was going to happen. “You need to let Jeffrey take you to the hospital. Ask for Suzanne. She’ll have your room ready. Don’t object or pretend you’re fine. You’re not. Suzanne will know what to do. I’ll go get your belongings from prison.”

 His lawyer and best friend already wanted to move away, but Thomas was just in time to reach out for him and stop him. “Dwight,” he said softly. “Thank you. This may have been your best case so far.”  “And it had nothing to do with law,” Dwight said dryly and with a little grin on your face. “Happy you’re not going to jail, York. Now go to the hospital, please.”

Thomas listened to his lawyer. He turned around to find Jeffrey, who was happy to drag him through the courthouse, ignore the press that had assembled outside the courthouse and push him into his car. Thomas didn’t ask questions and neither did Jeffrey. He drove them to the hospital in silence while Thomas attempted to rest in the backseat.  Once they arrived, Dwight’s wife Suzanne didn’t waste any time. She brought him to a room nearby the ER and told Jeffrey to wait in the waiting area before paging a nurse to help her. The hour that followed was definitely going into the top ten of worst hours Thomas ever lived and that was saying something. Suzanne gave him the stuff that Dwight picked up from prison afterwards and told him he needed to rest for a couple of hours before he would be allowed to see anyone. There was no arguing with Suzanne Peterson, a lesson that Thomas had learned years ago, so he got comfortable in the hospital bed, plugged his earplugs in and let himself drift as the pain eased slowly.

It was a couple of hours later when he was sitting up in bed wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and was listening to the music from the music player that Steffen gifted him back in February. When the door opened, he laid eyes on Steffen and immediately smiled a little as he paused the music. “Hey,” he said. “I always found that a hospital was a different kind of prison. Of course I thought that before I experienced prison. I was really wrong for the most part.” This was ordinarily the moment he would shrug his shoulders, but he shouldn’t do that. “Listen, do yourself and everyone that cares about you a favour and never ever use the phrase fucked his brains out again in court. Preferably not at all, but especially not in court.” It was just good advice Steffen didn’t ask for because Thomas, as ever, didn’t want to talk about what he had to talk about. “How have you been holding up?”  

reclaiming the narrative

The day of his trial was upon them and Thomas was exhausted. He wasn’t drained, his usual form of exhausted, and his body was feeling fine. But sitting in the cell, staring at the wall, or laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, nothing was happening to motivate him to get up. This may well be the end for him. Usually that knowledge was good enough to get him through the day, but it had never been true quite so literally before. If Dwight didn’t pull off an absolute miracle to get him out of prison, he would be stuck there until long after the revolution he helped set up would either fail or succeed. This was not how it was meant to be at all. 

  The suit felt uncomfortable more than ever. He wasn’t in any way used to the clothes provided for him by the prison, but the suit made him into someone he had never been: the image of a person that the Council needed him to be. The kid that had lost everything and grew up into a successful man with a great job, a great fiancée and a great house had been a myth before it was even true. Thomas rather thought the Council knew it, too. But governing had never been about the truth, knowledge he had abused time and time again, and it showed again in this particular situation. Thomas York dating a nineteen year old boy didn’t fit the image and Gavin Rosett disliked him enough to do something about it.   He was going over the list of witnesses in his head when the guard in front of his cell announced that his lawyer had arrived. Thomas got up slowly and headed for the door, where he was handcuffed yet again. Where did they think he was going? The guard lead him towards the offices, where Jeffrey was waiting for him. He frowned at the other, but didn’t say a word until they were outside the prison building and  crossing the street to the building of justice. “Did Dwight give up?” Thomas questioned. “You’re not qualified to defend me and you’re meant to identify yourself as Dwight. How did you even get this far?”   Jeffrey smirked a little. “No one is clever enough to be able to tell us apart. I just took his ID card. And you don’t have to worry about Dwight. He went past the hospital before coming there and asked me to get you out early. We’ll switch our ID cards back in the hall.”    This was typical Jeffrey and Dwight behavior. They did it when they were younger and had to attend a class or do a test that the other was better at. These days when Jeffrey had a formal occasion to attend at the Council  and didn’t have the right mindset or when Dwight was supposed to show up at a course case that he couldn’t sit through, they switched. They may be twins, but they weren’t identical. Someone who had seen them every week for years, like Thomas, knew who he had in front of him with one look. The others didn’t look right, or didn’t realize what they were looking at.      Thomas shook his head, but opted not to comment. “What was he doing in the hospital?” “Making sweet, sweet love to his wife,” Jeffrey said melodramatically, causing Thomas to side-eye him. “I’m not even kidding, mostly. They haven’t seen each other in days. But he’s probably making sure the trauma department is prepared.”   “Why?” Thomas asked.  “Screw you, Thomas,” was Jeffrey’s instant reaction, as though he had seen Thomas’ question coming. “You and I both know why. You and I also know he won’t be around much once you’re there and he’ll feel bad for it, so he’s already trying to make up for it.”   Thomas considered that for a couple of seconds as they walked up the stairs of the justice building. The guards were still walking a safe few feet behind them. “He doesn’t have to feel guilty,” Thomas said. “If he gets me out I’ll owe him big time. You seem very sure that he will, though. What makes you so sure?”   “I never doubt Dwight,” Jeffrey said. “He’s the clever one of the family.” He seemed to think about that statement briefly as he opened the door to let Thomas in first. “He has a plan. A plan that’ll work. The witness list is perfect and will see to it. We discussed it with everyone and they all know what to say.”   Jeffrey, Kaya, Brooke, Drake and Steffen. It still made zero sense to Thomas.

 Once they arrived in the entrance hall, most people that Thomas expected were already there. He greeted Lucy and Kaya before turning to Noa and Drake. Drake surprisingly approached cautiously and proceeded to put his arms around him, a hug that Thomas accepted hesitantly with a look in Noa’s direction, who seemed to try her best to smile at him.   “Are you okay?” Noa asked once Drake let go off him.   Thomas nodded. “I’m fine,” he declared, ignoring the way that Drake and Noa exchanged a glance. “How has everything at home been? Did Drake burn down the house yet?”   “That’s not funny,” Drake said as he glared at Thomas momentarily. “You have to be home. I can’t be in that house by myself. And not with Brooke and Steffen, either. It’s weird.”   “Well, whether I’ll be home or not isn’t really up to me any more,” Thomas said matter-of-fact.   From the corner of his eye, he saw Dwight and Steffen arrive alongside Brooke. He watched the three of them for a couple of seconds before he averted his gaze.   “I don’t think you’re supposed to be staring at your victim,” Jeffrey commented.   Thomas turned to look at his best friend. “My what now?”  Jeffrey moved in his direction to stand behind him. “Your victim. That’s how they see Steffen. You used your authority and your position of power to get him in your bed.” He laid his hands on Thomas’ shoulders with the intention to massage some of the tension out, but all he got from only the first motion was Thomas tensing up further and puling away immediately. Jeffrey glared at him. Thomas glared back. The words I knew it! and Don’t say a word about this were almost floating in the air before both of them averted their gazes abruptly.    “You don’t have to worry,” Jeffrey said as he moved, more carefully this time around, to stand next to Thomas and laid a hand on his arm. “We’re going to reclaim the narrative. You’ll see.” Thomas had no idea what that meant. Jeffrey had no intention of explaining it to him. “I’m gonna swap my ID card with Dwight again. I’ll be right back.”

jeffrey.

  It took no time at all, once the charges were read, for Dwight to start his so-called master plan. Thomas wished his lawyer’s brother would stop referring to it as such, because it would look really dumb if said master plan failed. Because it was a fast-tracked court case, the defense got to select a number of witnesses that the plaintiff would be using too. The evidence would be provided by both parties, because the evidence that Thomas was arrested for would have to be used and more evidence could be added. It was an improvisation case, another term that Jeffrey used, and that was in their favor. 

  The first witness to be called to the stand was Jeffrey. After stating his name and age and swearing that he wouldn’t lie (with a smirk that made Thomas sure that he would), he sat down and immediately slumped, as though incredibly relaxed on that chair.  

  “Mister Peterson,” Dwight started, and had both Thomas and Jeffrey immediately grinning over the way he addressed his brother like the two little children they could behave like, “tell us a little about your friendship with mister York.”   Right on cue, the Council’s lawyer had something to say. “How is this relevant? This court is about the question whether or not Thomas York abused Steffen West. Why don’t we skip right ahead to the boy so we can get this over with?”

  “We will do no such thing,” Dwight replied sharply, only to redirect himself towards the judge. “My aim is to establish how my client is in day-to-day life to give you a clear idea of him as a person. Once you understand his pattern of behavior, it’ll be much easier to make a well-informed choice about whether or not he is guilty. It is therefore very relevant that I ask multiple people with different roles in his life about him.”   “I’ll allow it,” the judge conceded, who was apparently looking forward to the long sit.    Thomas thought he was starting to get it. This was what Jeffrey meant with reclaiming the narrative. The judge thought of him a certain way because that was what he had been told by Gavin Rosett, the Council and no doubt the papers, since they would be all over this kind of trial. The only reason they weren’t in the justice building or the courtroom was because they weren’t allowed to be there. Nor did they need to, though. Surely someone working for the Council would be happy to leak some information to the press.    “So, my friendship with Thomas,” Jeffrey repeated, only to sit up straight, smirk and stretch, the three telltale signs of Jeffrey ready to start an entire monologue. “Thomas York is my best friend. I know at least three other people that would say the same thing and it’s true. Thomas is a best friend to all of us. Of course I can only speak for myself, and I love this man. I love poking fun at him. I love occasionally slightly humiliating him. But what I love way more than that is going running with him, as we do weekly. I love spending my evenings with him, whether that’s in the cafe or at one of our houses. He makes discussing work fun and that’s not fun with anyone.”   “So what you’re saying is that Thomas is a very good friend of yours,” Dwight interrupted. Jeffrey could surely have gone on for another ten minutes when uninterrupted. “What is he like in day-to-day life?”  Jeffrey studied Thomas for a couple of seconds, clearly considering it. “Thomas is the calm in a crisis and the logic in chaos. Thomas is the sarcastic comment when the situation desperately needs one. He’s clever and he’s sensitive. He’s the most loyal friend imaginable.”   “When have the two of you met?” Dwight queried.   Jeffrey pulled a face at that, probably at the strangeness of it all. He was talking to Dwight, no doubt as he was told to, but he was telling stories where Dwight had been by his side for. Dwight knew all this, but he couldn’t be questioning himself. “We met through our sister Kaya, the next witness,” he said. “He was eighteen and we hit it off immediately. We spend those formative years together when the world is wide and scary and all there for you to figure out. We helped him paint his house and raise his younger brother, and he helped us pick our houses, do our taxes and plan our weddings. He’s the best. He’s the reason why we both insisted to have two best men at our weddings. Dwight, you had Thomas and me. And I had Thomas and you.”   “What would you say that the relationship between Steffen and Thomas is like?” Dwight asked. “You see him every week, you said, and you’ve been close to him for years. Surely you discuss stuff like this together.”   “We sure do,” Jeffrey said with a grin that made Thomas afraid of what he was going to disclose next. “All the time. We have no secrets. And that’s why I know all about Steffen West and Thomas’ feelings for him. Thomas is badly in love with that man. I’d never seen him like that before. He was between being afraid of screwing up Drake’s friendship with Steffen and not wanting to break the law. Their love was stronger than that.”  As the plaintiff took over and started asking Jeffrey questions, Thomas tuned out. Jeffrey had a way with words. This wasn’t the one he was worried about.

kaya.

This wasn’t the one he was worried about, either.   She sauntered over to the front of the courtroom and mentioned her name and age matter-of-fact, only to swear she would tell the truth with the same grin on her face that Jeffrey was sporting earlier. Definitely related, those two. She sat down, her elbows on the small table in front of her that was meant to put down evidence on in case there was any, and glared at the Council’s judge for a couple of seconds before averting her gaze and smiling up at Dwight.     “Miss Peterson,” Dwight addressed her, smiling back. “When did you first meet Thomas?”  At school. That was an easy one and that wasn’t at all relevant. Thomas himself was about to protest about relevance (he didn’t think he was allowed to do that) when Kaya spoke to reply to the question.   “I first met Thomas when I was thirteen and when I was fourteen. It was the first day of school. I was with the girls and he was the odd kid at the back of the class,” Kaya said, a smile still on her face. “But I really met Thomas when I showed up at the hospital when he hadn’t shown up at school for over a week.”   Oh no. Oh, no. “Dwight,” Thomas hissed under his breath, “steer her away.”   “Shut up,” Dwight said after turning in his direction, not at all bothering to lower his voice. “Sit down and sit through this.”   What else was he going to do if his lawyer and the current witness decided to be cooperative? He couldn’t exactly walk out of the courtroom.   “My apologies,” Dwight said. “Miss Peterson, you were saying?”   “The hospital was what I was saying,” she said. “The weird kid from the back of the class had been gone for over a week, so I went on an investigation. Our class mentor redirected me to his foster parents, who in turn send me to the hospital with the tentative hope of Thomas talking to someone for a chance. When I arrived at the third floor I thought they were making fun of me. For those of you that don’t know, the left wing of the third floor is the psychiatric wing. But he was there. Room number nine, sitting on the bed reading a magazine.”   “What happened once you walked into that room?” Dwight asked.   “He wanted me to go away,” Kaya said with a light chuckle. “Said he didn’t want my pity or curiosity. That was fair, considering we hardly spoke three words before that day. But it wasn’t either one of those things, so I kept insisting until I got him to give me his phone number. I came back the next day with books to read and I kept showing up. Gradually he started to trust me and open up, but it took him a few weeks to tell me what he was in the hospital for. He was so miserable that he tried to kill himself. I realized that I would have missed out on meeting this incredible boy if that were the case and that just wouldn’t do. Of course, I couldn’t have guessed how important to me he would become, but I was convinced he was too special for me to give up on, so I never have and I never regretted it.”   “What happened after Thomas came back to school?” Dwight queried.   “I immediately introduced him to my brothers and my cousin,” Kaya said. “And they loved him almost immediately for his matter-of-fact ways and his quirky and sarcastic sense of humor. I sat with him in all our shared classes and we had the most fun. All I regret is not approaching him years earlier. When he quit high school after sixth year I was mad at him for a while because who else was going to make me laugh and remind me of my homework? He was the best thing about high school by a long shot. Other than meeting my wife, probably.” Probably?   “How would you describe Thomas?” Dwight asked. “In the way you know him, what description fits him best?”   Kaya smiled slowly. “He’s the best person in any room, always,” she said. “He’s thoughtful and sensitive, two traits that I miss in men often and therefore love in him. He’s always there when I need him. He’s the kindest and the smartest person I know. If I were straight, this wouldn’t be a court case because I’d have married him in a heartbeat and he wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love with someone else.” Taking a breath, she added: “He’d never do what the plaintiff claims he did. There’s just no way. Thomas is a difficult man. He feels too much and doesn’t always know what to do with it. I’ve always imagined that his mind is a dark place that he doesn’t want to involve us in, but he manages admirably. He loves harder and is kinder because of it.”   The plaintiff tried to make Kaya say that because Thomas’ head was a dark place he would do things against the law and that they would protect him, but there was no cracking Kaya. Instead, she was very persistent in denying every claim going in that direction and had the audacity to laugh when they insinuated maybe she didn’t know him well enough to know that side of him. It made him grin a little himself, despite of everything. Kaya knew him and he knew Kaya, through and through. 

brooke.

This was the one he was worried about.   Not because he didn’t think Brooke wouldn’t be honest. Maybe that was part of the problem. No, Brooke was the kind of girl that was easy to persuade and make her change her mind. If anyone was the weak link in this line-up of witnesses, it was Brooke. Everyone could see that she was nervous as she approached the judge and smiled weakly. Her voice was trembling when she stated her name and her age and swore to tell the truth. When Thomas looked behind him into the crowd, he saw Anthony Reyes sit there. When the other met his gaze, Thomas looked back to Brooke resolutely. He yet had to figure out how this fell in Dwight’s master plan, because usually an ex-fiancée wouldn’t have anything good to say.    “Miss West,” Dwight spoke, approaching her so he could look at her directly. “How did you meet Thomas? What was your first impression of him?”  Brooke looked aside at him and smiled a little. “I knew of Thomas, at first. I think everybody does. He was the overly successful financial director of the hotel. He was living the dream according to many, with that job at his age. There were always pieces in the paper about how great the hotel was doing under his leadership and what other projects he could be taking on. But then he taught a guest seminar at our school. I didn’t take the class, but my best friend May did. According to her he was gorgeous and dreamy and I wanted to see, so I approached him and we talked for a minute. May was right.”   Gorgeous and dreamy? He had spoken to Brooke before the engagement? He wasn’t sure what he was more shocked by.   “You got engaged to Thomas through the Council,” Dwight said. “As you can find in evidence D, if you must. Engagement papers with their signatures. Similarly, evidence E, divorce papers with their signatures. Can you tell me something about that relationship?”   “Of course,” Brooke said, who seemed to relax a little. “When I turned twenty, I decided to sign up for the match program. It seemed logical to me, because it’s better to find someone who is well-suited to me based on our character traits than to count on falling in love with a guy that I wanted to spend my entire life with.” She glanced behind Thomas at Anthony. Thomas had to suppress the urge to make a sarcastic comment about that. “And it was Thomas,” Brooke continued. “Thomas was my perfect match. He was perfect to me, at first. He had a great job, a house, he always asked how I was doing and put in a lot of effort.”   “He was perfect at first, you said,” Dwight picked up. “What changed?”   “I learned to see him for the person that he was, instead of the picture that was painted by his file and the facade that he tried to hold up,” Brooke replied with a little smile. “What he really was, was a guy that was trying really hard to make his relationship work but struggling to do so. I loved that guy more than I ever could with that perfect picture. Thomas isn’t perfect. He’s flawed. But his biggest flaw is - ” She paused to look at him, her lips pressed together. Thomas looked back at her and wondered what she was seeing.    “He doesn’t love himself,” Brooke said as though she had just decided that. “That’s his biggest flaw.”   “What do you mean?” Dwight said, who had clearly lost her as well.    “I mean -” Brooke paused again and Thomas could see the insecurity sinking back in, but she pushed through. “It’s not that he needs validation. He rarely asks for it. But he beats himself up inside. He broods. He has trouble sleeping because he overthinks so much that he can’t shut down. He doubts himself constantly and seems to convince himself that he’s not worth whatever is happening in his life, whether that’s his friends, his brother or me. Right now he’s probably thinking he’s not worth all the effort of this trial.”   Well that was painful. Was is that obvious that even Brooke saw it?   “Miss West, the plaintiff is going to want to ask you about your sex life with mister York, so I’m going to beat them to it,” Dwight said calmly. Was that really necessary? Apparently. “Could you tell me about your sex life with him?”    “I could, but there’s nothing to tell,” Brooke said with a light shrug of his shoulders. “We agreed to wait until marriage to sleep together, so we had some time to get to know each other first. We both wanted to form that emotional bond that a couple should have before being intimate. He was always very insistent on being careful. He always knocked before walking into the bedroom when I was there and never walked into the bathroom when I was in the shower. Of course we did some things - we made out, shared baths, did some stuff  over the clothes - but that’s it.”  And just like that, Brooke took whatever the plaintiff could have asked of her about their sex life and spun it in a way that it was worthless for them to work with. When Dwight turned back around to Thomas with the words ‘no further questions’ he had a grin on his face that Thomas recognized as the smirk he had on his face when he was winning.    The plaintiff didn’t agree, though. “Miss West. Why did you divorce mister York?” Did they seriously think that was how they were going to find dirt? Well, they were wrong.   “Thomas and I mutually agreed on the divorce after I admitted that I -” Both Thomas and Dwight were shaking their heads at her, because she couldn’t tell the truth in this instance. Even if it may be good for Thomas’ case, Thomas really didn’t want his ex-fiancée going to jail over telling the truth during his court case. She should not be admitting she cheated on him. Thankfully, she caught on. “That I was in love with someone else,” she finished her sentence. “I broke his heart. I’m still sorry about that. He deserved better.”   “And two days later he was sitting in a hot tub with your little brother? Evidence A, the security footage picture of the hotel’s penthouse.” Of course they had those.   “Objection, that’s not a question,” Dwight remarked, still sharp.    “I’ll rephrase,” the Council’s lawyer said. “Were you aware that Thomas and your little brother were spending time together intimately?”   Brooke had been ready for that question, as it turned out. “Yes,” she said. “He told me that he had been in love with Steffen and that Steffen had been in love with him before he turned twenty-three and the engagement was agreed on. He distanced himself from Steffen. All that time I’ve thought that they just couldn’t stand each other, but in reality they were faced with the person they loved every day with the knowledge they couldn’t be with them. When I confessed to being in love with someone else and he told me about Steffen, it was only logical to me that he would return to being with Steffen, just as I was with the person I was in love with.”   “Do you believe they’re in love, miss West?”   “Yes,” Brooke said without blinking. “I know my little brother and I know my ex-fiancé. If Steffen has set his sights on what he wants, he’s not afraid to go after it. As it turns out, what he wanted was Thomas. So the moment the divorce was finalized, that was exactly what he did. He went after what he wanted.”

drake.

  Drake looked so uncomfortable in the suit - one of Thomas’ suits, he realized when he looked again - that it made Thomas have to smother a grin. Drake caught it and glared at him. “I’m Drake York, I’m twenty, and I swear I’ll tell the truth,” he said before falling down on the chair for the witness and sighing deeply.   “Drake, arguably you’re the person here that knows Thomas best,” Dwight said as he got up from his chair and walked towards the witness stand. “You’re his brother. You grew up with him. Can you tell me a little about your childhood together?”   “Sure,” Drake said. This was going to be painful, Thomas expected, and not in the social form of being slightly humiliated by the truth. This was the harsh version of painful, where the story was just unbearable to tell. “Thomas was the only constant in my childhood. Our parents died when we were eleven and eight. We went through three foster families since. I don’t remember all that much of the first two, to be honest. All I knew was that I was always clinging to Thomas and he was always there. When I didn’t want to come out of my room, he would get to me. When I didn’t want to eat, he would convince me. When I didn’t want to go to school, he would tell me why I had to. The families tried to do what Thomas did, but never could.”    Dwight wanted to ask another question, but Drake beat him to speaking. “Can I continue? Can I just talk about Thomas for a while? Because this court case is bullshit. I know Thomas. The idea that he would do anything to hurt another human like that is hilarious, never mind Steffen.”   Thomas had to suppress his laughter. Behind him, Kaya and Jeffrey weren’t bothering to do the same.   “Sure,” Dwight said. “Say what you feel needs to be said.”   “Thomas put up with all my crap,” Drake declared. “He raised me. No matter what the three foster families may tell you otherwise, I know it was Thomas and he knows it too. He taught me how to treat others, how to cook, he helped me with my homework and even sat me down for the sex talk, which I suspect was horrible for the both of us. He proceeded to take me to the stores to buy condoms and made me promise to never touch someone unless they explicitly gave me content to do so. I’ve seen him with Gianna and with Steffen. He’s careful. He’s romantic. He’s how I wish I could be. I’m sorry for being a lousy boyfriend, Noa.”   Thomas didn’t think he could listen to this. Drake was all over the place because of how terrified he was of the prospect of losing Thomas and was oversharing because of it. Dwight shouldn’t have let him talk because he was going to let something slip he shouldn’t.    Thankfully, Dwight caught up on that as well. “Drake, you’re also friends with Steffen, correct?”   “Best friends,” Drake said. “For years now.”   “So arguably you’re closest to both people this lawsuit is about,” Dwight said. “One of them is your best friend. The other is your brother. Did you know about their relationship?”   “Yes,” Drake said. “Eventually, a couple of months into when they were dating, I figured it out. I wasn’t very nice about it, at first. I thought it would just be heartbreak, which it was. I was right about that. I also thought it wasn’t worth it, but I was wrong about that. What they have is real, otherwise they would never have handled themselves the way they have. They have been pining after each other but not even getting near each other ever since January. They knew what their relationship had been was too good to screw that up with making mistakes after it was done. I was happy for them when they got back together. They belong together. And it’s great for me to have my best friend and brother dating each other, of course.”   Dwight glanced aside at the Council’s lawyer momentarily. “Do you believe that Thomas could have abused Steffen in any way?”   “No,” Drake said, loud and clear. “The thought wouldn’t even enter Thomas’ head.”

Steffen‌:

   Steffen couldn’t stop looking at Thomas. That seemed to be the smallest problem of the current situation, but it was there. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. When it was made clear that Thomas was worried about them, it only made the wrongness of it all incredibly clear. The truth of how good he was at managing as well was an understatement, because Thomas could give off the aura that he was indestructible somehow when he wanted to, so outwardly confident no one would question him. This wasn’t one of those times where it would work. “Yeah, we do need to worry about you, because that’s what we’re here for. To care and to worry, so deal with it, York.” It was a statement that held a certain weight. The legal obligation to take care of prisoners was a farce at best, and they both knew it, and it brought a curve briefly to Steffen’s lips that could only be described as sardonic. “Next you’ll be telling me it’s three course meals and a wide screen TV.” It wasn’t funny, not even a bit, and there was no shield against how bad it was now that he was face to face with Thomas. “Which I’m assuming isn’t the case?” It was the only way he could obliquely address what the conditions of the prison were actually like with others listening in.

   It was a short but revealing remark from Thomas, once Steffen had listed the witnesses, the kind that meant he wanted to ask more questions and couldn’t. He wasn’t going to say anything more on how the defence would proceed, because the information could be used against them once the trial was underway. “Yes. All willing to speak on your behalf.” It didn’t stop him from wishing that he could warn Thomas somehow of what was planned. “Well, idealism has its advantages. It lets you see what should be as much as what is. Ideas are nothing without focus, though.” The resistance had taught him that much. It was why Steffen knew quite well that those at the trial wouldn’t be interested in playing fair. When Thomas’ fingers curled around his, Steffen’s grip tightened just a little. It was the words that came next which made him still beneath Thomas’ touch, because it was painful to hear them. “You weren’t sure if I would come for you, were you?” The question was breathed outwards on an exhale. “I’m here, and I will be at the trial too.” Another squeeze of his fingers around the other’s. “Do you think you can understand that?” It wasn’t a barb, but it held emphasis, Steffen’s eyes locked on those of the man he loved and might lose. “I’m always going to show up for you, Thomas. Don’t ever for a second think you’re not worth it to me, okay?” And let Gavin Rosett make something of that, the bastard. “You shouldn’t be in here and you’re not staying here either.” They don’t get to take you away from us. Any of us.

 “Just because you chose to worry doesn’t mean you need to,” Thomas pointed out with the air of someone who was having the best day in a business meeting and was outsmarting everyone. Him at a normal day at work, in other words. He also stood by his earlier point: worrying didn’t change anything. He leaned back against his chair, only to betray with a painful grimace that such a thing hurt doing and that he just forgot. “You’re forgetting something very crucial in that assessment,” he said. He hadn’t been kidding when he said they had to take care of him. “They need me well-fed and healthy if they want to get any use out of me. And if Dwight does win and it turns out they did anything to me that’s against their precious law, he’s not above starting another trial. He has some clear-cut evidence, after all.” It would be an easy process, because unlike with Thomas’ trial there was no subjectivity possible. That was probably why Gavin Rosett wasn’t risking it, Thomas suspected. If he did lose, impossibly so, the last thing he needed was another trial to jeopardize his already ruined reputation.    Saying anything more on the matter of the five witnesses wasn’t going to make Thomas understand it any more, so he didn’t even respond or look at Steffen when he made the remark to make sure he wasn’t making it show he didn’t get it. They didn’t need to be giving any more away than they already were during this conversation. It was weird to hear Steffen talk to him about idealism. He had been with the resistance since he was nineteen. Steffen was preaching to the choir and it was unnecessary. “I told you, it’s not you,” he reminded the other gently when he asked if Thomas really hadn’t expected Steffen to show up for him. This was what his head did. There was always a traitorous voice telling him that no one would show up for him in any kind of circumstances. “I trust you. I do. You’re wonderful and you’ve always been great. This is just in my head and nothing else.” He was trying to say he didn’t need the reassurance, but he did. He just didn’t want to need it. Oddly, the only person he knew he could rely on was also the person he fought with regularly and didn’t have his back previously: Drake, of course. “You should probably get back to work. I’m just keeping you.” He smiled a little at the other. After a look at the security cameras, Thomas lifted Steffen’s hand and pressed a kiss to it before getting up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Steffen West‌:

  When Dwight had proposed the initial plan to Steffen, under other circumstances, he might have declared it borderline insane. He might have worried that it wouldn’t work, that he wouldn’t be convincing enough. He also might have questioned why Dwight wasn’t going to take his opportunity to talk to Thomas. The key point was that he didn’t need to be convincing. He was a law student, and that was enough for him to pass as in the early stages of an internship as well. He hadn’t slept well that night, and when he’d adjusted his tie in the mirror, it was a familiar sight. The reason why only occurred to him in that moment. This is you without Thomas. He didn’t need to know specifics of what was happening to the man he loved, because that it was happening at all made reality a nightmare that none of them could wake from.

   When Steffen arrived at the prison, he signed himself in according to procedure, was escorted to an office to wait for Thomas. Because he was functioning in an official capacity as a representative on Dwight’s behalf, his presence couldn’t necessarily be prevented. Observed, yes, since he was a person of interest in Thomas’ case, but not stopped, not unless he did anything stupid. As he waited, Steffen used the time to identify any possible points for surveillance, because there wasn’t a chance in hell this wouldn’t be recorded. The minute that he laid eyes on Thomas once he came through the door, it took willpower not to simply race towards him and check him over. Instead, Steffen had to do it visually. Unshaven, yes, but nothing visibly wrong. It didn’t mean he took for granted that there was no harm done, but for now, he’d have to let it pass. When Thomas at last spoke, it seemed that they weren’t playing charades even despite the fact that they were being watched. It meant that he answered honestly. “I’m holding up for you,” he said plainly. “Drake’s worried out of his mind. Jeffrey and Noa have been with him.” Brows furrowing, he looked at Thomas and let the other see all the worry he felt himself, there where it could be read from him. “How are you bearing up?” Have they hurt you? It was a forlorn, painful question.

   The remark about his previously non-existent internship was less on Steffen’s mind than taking in Thomas’ smile. “Dwight figured I was of more use here than elsewhere,” he answered, eyes all for the face of the man he loved and nothing else. “He did let me know who the witnesses will be, as well. Jeffrey, Kaya, Drake, Brooke…and me.” If Thomas had wanted an indication of what Steffen had been up to, he now had it. On the comment that Gavin Rosett wanted the system to find him guilty, Steffen shook his head briefly. Dark eyes flashed coldly at the mention of the man who had thrown Thomas in prison to begin with. “You need a hearing for your defence to be heard. Gavin Rosett is required to operate within the constraints of the law and that means that you have the right to a fair trial.” Knowing that fair might not come into it loaded the words with irony that Steffen loathed. Reaching out across the table, he touched Thomas’ hand with his, soft brush of fingers. “Dwight wanted me to have the chance to tell you that I was going to be involved, but I don’t think that’s the only reason he sent me here.” No, the alternative was for them to see one another one last time as well before the trial, and that was unthinkable.

 Truth be told, Thomas was (as ever) not worried about himself or his situation. There was nothing to be done about it. Not by himself. He could wish and pray all he liked, but it wasn’t going to make a difference at all. That was what Dwight was for and that wasn’t something that Thomas could control. What he could control equally as much, though, was the way that Drake was doing and how Steffen was holding up. That was what he was worried about, just as he worried about Dwight, Kaya and the others. This wasn’t easy on any of them. “I’m fine,” he therefore declared. “This isn’t the difficult part. I’m just worried about all of you.” That was probably a touch too honest. “You don’t have to worry about me. Not yet, anyway. I’m good.I’m very good at managing.” A little too good, others would surely argue. “I’m a prisoner, so they’re legally obliged to take care of me,” he added with a little grin, as though that fact was bringing him joy. It was. He was petty that way.    The witness list was interesting, because in theory it would tell Thomas something about Dwight’s tactic for the case. It didn’t, though, because the list felt random and out of the blue to him. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t question it aloud, because Gavin Rosett would surely be listening to every word spoken here. “That’s a lot of witnesses,” was all he could comment on. He would surely be mulling over that for hours to come after this conversation. He didn’t point out that maybe he didn’t want his defense to be heard; that was a thought that didn’t belong inside of his head and shouldn’t be said aloud for that reason. “A fair trial? That’s very idealistic, Steffen,” he commented instead. Nothing had been fair in this city for a very long time now. He turned his hand around to catch Steffen’s hand into his and smiled lightly. “Dwight should be letting you do real intern stuff. Make him coffee and print and copy files,” he said, completely ignoring the implication in Steffen’s words. “Of course I knew you were going to be involved. I’m not quite that insecure.” Yes, he was. It would be the end of the epic saga that was his life: going to jail over a boy that didn’t care enough to show up at his trial. “I would have understood it, if you didn’t,” he added after a couple of seconds. “It’s not that I think that lowly of you. It’s me.”

 Of course Thomas had heard the rumours. He had heard Suzanne and Hunter talk about the patients at the hospital who came from prison. He knew it to be true. Yet that didn’t mean he was prepared. He knew what he had to do. He refused to answer any questions asked during the interrogations, ignored all mentions of a resistance of any kind other than an incredulous reaction every now and then and didn’t let it show that any mentions of Drake or Steffen bothered him. But all in all his first day and night in prison had been nothing short of awful and with the knowledge that he was guilty and that the proof that existed proved this, he didn’t know what they were interrogating him for.        On Tuesday he was told that his hearing would take place the next day, on Wednesday, and that his lawyer wanted to see him. However, before entering the office where he would be meeting his lawyer, the guard told him rather gleefully that apparently his lawyer didn’t think this case was important, for he send an intern to go deal with the case instead. That didn’t sound like Dwight at all. Thomas didn’t let the sudden jolt of self-doubt get to him and pushed the door of the office open, only to be met with a first year law student who just so happened to be his boyfriend and the person this case was built around. Now that was much more like Dwight.    Thomas closed the door behind him and took Steffen in briefly before he moved to sit down.He didn’t know what angle Dwight was working here, but he didn’t care. Neither did he care about the fact that they were being taped, both audio and video. He was going to say whatever he wanted to the person that he loved. “Hi,” he greeted as he sat down at the other side of the table. “How are you holding up? How is Drake doing?” He smiled briefly. “Now that internship comes in handy.” An internship that Thomas hadn’t know existed and probably didn’t, but that was not something Gavin Rosett needed to know. “Did Dwight send you in with anything prepared, or does he just want us to sit here and catch up?” There was a humorous tone to his voice then, but it really wasn’t funny. “I honestly don’t see the point of this lawsuit. Gavin Rosett wants the system to find me guilty, so I am. We don’t need a hearing for that.” 

Steffen:

   Being informed that how he felt wasn’t irrelevant didn’t help, but Steffen understood why Dwight was saying what he was saying. “The love of my life has just been imprisoned and I’m being used against him, and my best friend is falling apart because his brother has just been taken away. Does now really seem like a good time for me to talk about my feelings?” But nonetheless, there was an emotion behind the words: anger, and a lot of it, none of it directed at Dwight. No, the lion’s share was reserved for Gavin Rosett, and the rest for himself. “The only place my head is at is with Thomas.” And what might be happening to him now, because he didn’t believe for a minute that imprisoning Thomas was really about him, he was just the excuse they were using. It meant that when Dwight said listen, he was completely focused on every word, and it confirmed what he’d suspected. Hearing that it needed to be made believable that Steffen loved him was a surprise, and he stared at Dwight for a moment before concluding that there was no other possible way to approach it. When faced with a biased judge, though, it would be a lot more challenging to persuade others that it was the truth. “So what you’re saying is that we’re walking into a set piece already,” he said. “What exactly can I do to make my testimony ironclad? I love him more than anyone except him could understand, but I need to make it so that it’s beyond dispute.” In other words, he had to make it so others understood.

   That the odds were bad with Gavin Rosett already predisposing the judge against Thomas’ case were undeniable. Steffen wasn’t one to try and shield himself from that kind of truth. But it also made it clear that when Dwight spoke so vaguely a moment later, there was something not being said. “I imagine you are,” he said, and the words were carefully vague as well, an indication that he might ask again at a later date, but not now. Not now, not when the only thing he could handle was thinking of how they could get Thomas out. “He wouldn’t mind,” he said after a brief pause. “But we’ll need to clean it out and close down what he was working on. Make sure there’s nothing there to find.” And if there was, they needed to make it disappear before the Council thought of it. They wouldn’t yet, because they had Thomas. The way they saw it, they held the trump card, and they did. “Is there anything you’re going to need to do this? When will we find out when the trial is?” Because Steffen didn’t know if they’d drag it out to get more time to interrogate Thomas beforehand, or if they’d do it fast to prevent the defence from having much time to formulate the case. Either was a terrifying possibility, and he suspected that Dwight would see that much in his face, because he couldn’t hide it. “You’ve done these cases before. What could they feasibly do to him before the trial? When will you get to see him?” As his defence lawyer, Dwight was the only one who had guaranteed entrance to see Thomas at all, now that he was in Council hands.

  Dwight opted not to get into the frustrated words that Steffen spoke. They weren’t directed at him, but at something Steffen couldn’t be frustrated at, right now or not ever. It wasn’t personal. He also decidedly didn’t ask Steffen to talk about his current feelings, but merely pointed out what he needed to be focused on. That was, of course, getting Thomas out of that prison as fast as possible and how. There was only one good angle they could work, Dwight believed, so that was what they were going to do. “I don’t know how you should do it,” Dwight said. “That’s only something that you can figure out. Only you know how you feel.” He couldn’t tell Steffen what words to use or how to smile to make it a convincing story, because the more he said the more difficult it would become for Steffen. It had to be genuine and unrehearsed. “All I can say it that you need to prepare yourself for any kind of questions about Thomas and yourself, questions about things that you’ll think of as private. You need to be convincing.”   He was glad that Steffen opted not to call him out on how vague he was being and instead went with it. Clearly, the other understood this was not a time to get into it. “You can clean out Thomas’ desk, if you prefer,” he replied. That was what Dwight would prefer, since he didn’t want to know about anything else illegal that he may have laying around. “The trial will most likely be in a couple of days. They want it over with.” And they wanted to give his lawyer as little time as possible to prepare for it so their chances of winning would be bigger. “And that’s a good thing,” he was quick to add when he saw Steffen’s face expression, “because it means they’ll be underestimating the defense.” And Dwight liked it when they did that. It was very useful for him as a lawyer, because it meant they always forgot something.  “I’ll see him tomorrow. I’ll find a way to get you in. It’ll be fine.” Of course, he didn’t tell Steffen what they could possibly do to Thomas. He wasn’t going to tell him any horror stories if they weren’t even true. They would see about that tomorrow.

Steffen‌:

   Everything inside Steffen had been unnervingly empty since the moment that Thomas was gone, and he was sat in the living room with Thomas’ cell phone and watch on the coffee table in front of him, staring at them. Telling Drake had been terrible, watching the realisation on his best friend’s face as everything unravelled, and calling after him as he walked up the stairs and slammed the door to his bedroom hadn’t done anything to change that. His hands hadn’t stopped trembling since, as though his body was processing the shock of it all in a very different way to his head. Even so, one thought crept through the wall of numb, false calm. I only just got you back.

   When the doorbell rang, he got up slowly and walked towards the door. Met with Dwight and Jeffrey both, Dwight dressed in a crisp suit without the jacket that pointed up to the fact he was here to do his job made everything crash in harder. He wasn’t even certain what his expression must have been in those moments. “Upstairs,” he answered, when asked where Drake was, voice tight. “He’s not doing well.” Understatement, because Steffen knew Drake. When Jeffrey disappeared upstairs, Dwight walked towards the kitchen and Steffen followed him, trying not to think of the conversations he’d had with Thomas in this exact same space. Tried not to think of the anger, the longing, of missing him, and now of fear. None of it would help, and that meant Steffen focused on remaining calm as Dwight spoke. “I know you can’t promise,” he said quietly. “How I’m feeling is irrelevant. We need to get him out and I’m willing to do whatever will help make that happen. What do you need me to do?” Watching the other man, he folded his arms, tension running along his shoulders, eyes sharp as glass. “Have you worked a case like this before? Thomas mentioned something, a while back. About you looking at the laws for the protections of prisoners, or lack thereof.” It was enough to make it clear that Steffen was well aware that Thomas wasn’t even safe whilst awaiting trial.

  It was only to be expected that Drake wasn’t doing well. How was anyone really expected to deal with the news that your older brother and former legal guardian had been arrested after the same thing happened to your parents when they were young, only to never see them again? That was why he send Jeffrey up to talk to him. Jeffrey could handle this situation better than he did. He was happy to handle the law side of it all, but the personal side wasn’t for him. “How you’re feeling is not irrelevant,” Dwight said as he turned to the counter and moved to see if there was any coffee, which there was. “I understand you’re thinking of Thomas, but in order to get him out you need to be okay first. You can’t testify for him if you’re all over the place.” The words were to the point and Dwight looked over his shoulder to look at Steffen briefly before he got himself a mug to pour some coffee in. “Listen. The law that Gavin Rosett referred to, 2b, works with the implication that any relationship between a minor and an adult is without consent. They arrested him to protect you.” Well, they arrested him to get information out of him, but that was the reason they arrested him. It was not the same thing, but it was beside the point. “In other words, in order to make sure he doesn’t get convicted, we have to make a case that your relationship was consensual. We have to make it believable that you love him.”   Coffee poured, he turned back to look at Steffen. “And I know that you do. But it’s not me that you have to convince. A biased judge is a little harder to convince, especially when Gavin Rosett whispered in his ear that they need to keep him in jail to interrogate him properly in order to find out about the resistance movement.” Impossible? No, he wouldn’t say that, but he also didn’t like the odds a lot. To hear Steffen mention what Thomas said about the laws protecting the prisoners, or utter lack thereof, made Dwight consider his words very carefully and tell himself to get it in Kaya’s head not to say what she probably knew by now. “I’m a civil rights lawyer, so I’m accustomed to cases like this,” he said vaguely. “Thomas is not the first prisoner of the Council that has valuable information of cases they would like to hear more about and I doubt he’ll be the last. Do you reckon he’ll mind if I use his office?”

As soon as Dwight got Steffen’s phone call, he knew what to do. He may be off work for a couple of weeks, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be working if he had a case as important as this one was. He may be Thomas’ best friend, but in this situation he was Thomas’ lawyer first and as his lawyer he understood that it was for the better someone worked the case that knew it. If someone else were on the case they would be wasting valuable time just explaining how the case and the person the case was about worked. It meant that Dwight was quick to change his clothes, from casual wear into a suit (even if he immediately decided not to wear the suit jacket around the house because it was warm weather) and kissed his wife goodbye, who still had to work a couple of shifts at the hospital before she started her vacation in another week or so. In the car he called Jeffrey, who had already heard about the situation from Kaya and who was on his way to Thomas’ house as well.

 His twin brother and him managed to arrive at the house around the same time. They walked up to the house and rung the doorbell, only to be met with a distraught-looking Steffen and Drake nowhere to be found at a first glance. “Where’s Drake?” he asked. When he got the answer, he exchanged a glance with Jeffrey, who knew exactly what had to be done and walked into the house to go find him. Someone had to talk to him and since Dwight needed all his time to prepare for the case, it had to be Jeffrey. Dwight watched his brother leave briefly before stepping inside of the house as well and making his way towards the kitchen, where he rolled up the sleeves of his formal cut shirt and regarded Steffen. “As a lawyer, I can’t make any promises about getting loved ones out of jail. You know that. But I surely will try my best, for all of our sakes. And by the looks of it, you’re going to have to help me. Are you up for that? How are you feeling?”

Steffen

   It had been strange to return to the house after being with Thomas at the penthouse since Friday night. While the air around things wasn’t quite awkward, it skimmed the surface of it quite aptly. Brooke hadn’t been in the house since her confession, apparently staying with Antony instead. He hadn’t asked too many questions, because he could guess the reasons why without being told. One reason was that she was still facing up to how rapidly things had changed because of her own admission. The other was that she was still wrapping her head around Thomas and Steffen. Whatever the case, he hadn’t seen her in person and when he eventually did, that was going to be an interesting conversation. Drake on the other hand had seemingly taken the change in stride, and the two of them and Thomas had been coming and going as was usual for them in the summer. As it turned out, they could co-exist just fine.

   What that ultimately meant was that all three of them were home, Thomas upstairs, Steffen in the living room flipping lazily through a book and enjoying the sunshine coming through the patio, Drake somewhere out back. When the doorbell rang, it didn’t register as anything unusual, so Steffen got up to answer it with a stretch. It wasn’t until he reached the front door and opened it to come face to face with Gavin Rosett wearing a serious expression and with someone else he didn’t recognise at his side that he knew something was wrong. His stomach dropped sharply with fear at the question that followed.

   “Good afternoon. Is Thomas available?”

   There was only one thing that occurred to Steffen right then. Lie. Lie so that they don’t find out. They can’t just come in here, can they? “Hi,” he said, feigning a casual lean in the doorway. “He’s not here right now. Can I take a message or something for when he’s back? I’m pretty sure he went to the office.” No, he hadn’t. Thomas was upstairs, and Steffen’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, because the head of the Justice department showing up on their doorstep with back-up was a very, very bad sign.

  Thomas was happy to be back home. It hadn’t quite felt alright having to be the one to have to leave the house because he didn’t want to see the other. It was his house, after all. He bought it. Brooke moved in with him and changed a bunch of things to her liking to make it her home as well, then encouraged by him. He couldn’t unsee it even when he changed some things back the way they were. Brooke was with Antony now, who still lived in his parents’ house, and Thomas had no intention of coming anywhere near that place. If he needed Brooke for anything he would call her. Now he just had Drake around, who went about his business aside from shooting him a few asking glares, implying that there were questions Thomas would be expected to answer later, and Steffen, who seemed to be used to being in the house but usually with his sister there. He didn’t know what Brooke plan was and knew for sure that if he had any say in it that Steffen wouldn’t be moving in anywhere near Antony. The other could stay at his place instead of have to move all over again.   Monday, early in the afternoon, and Thomas had just finished another cup of coffee when the doorbell rung. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but it wasn’t at all uncommon for someone to come by unannounced. It could be either anyone of his friends or anyone of Drake and Steffen’s friends. Only Noa was inclined to take the back door because she could just walk through her parents’ garden to get to theirs. It meant Thomas’ mind wasn’t on who was at the door at all. Instead, he decided it was time to start eating the grapes he had Drake pick up from the supermarket the week before. Heading downstairs, he smiled at the sight of Steffen standing in front of the open door, by all appearances talking to someone. The smile disappeared the moment that he took in the other’s face expression. Joining him at the front door, it occurred to him seconds later why Steffen was looking like that and what Gavin Rosett was doing here, but the damage was already done.   “Mr Rosett,” he greeted the man he loathed so much with an easy grin. “Is there anything I can help you with?”  “Actually, Mr York, you can,” Rosett replied. “You are under arrest for violating law 2b of the new code of law as written in 2161. If you would empty your pockets and put your hands on your back, please.” The man sounded so pleased with himself and Thomas very much wanted to punch the grin off his face, but he doubted that would help him get rid off the charges any more easily than he already would.   It was with a sigh that he handed over his mobile phone to Steffen and took his watch off next to hand to the other as well. He did as he was told calmly, putting his hands together on his back so they could handcuff him, but looked at Steffen. “Call my lawyer,” he said.

Steffen

   Thomas had never talked to him about his experiences in the foster system before. Steffen had known that they had happened, but it made the present moment all the more important. It meant that he held onto Thomas and gave him whatever time he needed to express himself, because if it had been remotely easy for him, it would have been spoken of long before now. It hurt to hear Thomas describe how it had felt to be him at that time (how it must still feel when he considered it closely), having lost his parents and there being no one that he could trust because the Council was everywhere. It only made the fact that Thomas had taken such close care of Drake mean more; it meant that even as often as Drake seemed to throw barbs in Thomas’ direction, there was never anything in them that could truly damage a bond that had been forged under the worst of circumstances.

   The description of Wesley and Ryanne Rosett was a contrast to many of the other families related to the Council that Steffen took immediate note of. “You only had yourselves, really,” he said softly. “It’s not surprising you didn’t feel able to trust.” That there had been a slow progression with Wesley and Ryanne nonetheless, with the way that they’d continued to reach out even after Thomas and Drake had left was enough to make Steffen nod briefly. “I don’t know if I can say this, really, because I don’t know them, but the way you describe them makes them sound like good people.” To have people around like the twins, Kaya and Gianna as well may have finally sunk it home that they weren’t completely alone, and it only served to represent to Steffen how what had begun as friendships had evolved into a second resistance. A group of people who had lost parents or loved ones to the Council, and a lot of very good reasons to believe that the Council’s way of doing things wasn’t with the best of intentions. Most importantly, though, it meant that Thomas had people around him to support him, people that he could rely upon.

   Thomas looked away and Steffen’s stomach plummeted, because he could begin to work it out from that. He remained silent as Thomas unfolded the fact that he’d been planning it for weeks, that it had been a cocktail of different medications fully intended to kill him. It made him blink hard, tighten his arms around Thomas just a little; the noise would have drawn attention, Sydney would have found him, his foster parents, and Drake would have come to see what was going on. The idea that Thomas hadn’t seen another way out was painful to absorb, but that was because Steffen could envisage how utterly alone he had been, must have felt. When he felt a kiss to his hair, he continued to smooth his fingers down Thomas’ back, turned his head just a little until he could kiss the side of Thomas’ jaw. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to tell me. Saying thank you for telling me this much feels so inadequate now, because this was and is your life and you carry this with you,” he said, voice quiet, just enough to reach the other’s ears. He drew back just enough to look at the other, touch his cheek. “It does go some way towards explaining. I’m still going to be here and I want to earn that trust if I can.” He tried to catch Thomas’ gaze, careful about it, and when he finally did, the words spoken next were clear. “You’re the world to me, Thomas. If you need time to trust that or me, then I’ll give you all the time I have.”

  Thomas liked to think that he was in a better place now than he had been during the years that Drake and him had been in the foster system. Sure, Brooke’s confession about being in love with someone else had shot some holes in how he was feeling and was feeling about himself, but overall he was dealing with his issues pretty well lately. His trouble sleeping had never really changed, something he was long used to by now, but overall his mental health had been stable the past couple of years. He knew he had people to rely on, just as they relied on him, and he knew they could trust him. The resistance gave him a sense of purpose he otherwise hadn’t had and even being with Steffen now helped, because it reminded him that someone wanted him for who he was rather than who he was made out to be.   He felt drained. He never told someone this much about his past, his experiences in the foster system and what the death of his parents did to him. His friends could guess it and in some ways related to it. Drake was so used to him being the way he was that he didn’t even seem to think twice any more. Steffen, however, decided that he wanted to be with Thomas despite of the past half year and how he had acted, confirming for once and for all for Thomas that the other could be trusted and that he could let him in. This was the best way he could show it. It was hard for Thomas to meet Steffen’s gaze then, but he did it after a couple of seconds and held his gaze, sighing. “I should be saying thank you to you,” he replied. “I’ve never had someone who I could and on some level wanted to tell this to.” He never felt any kind of desire to tell Brooke anything, after all, and his short-lived romance with Gianna was very much focused on that and not on what was actually going on with them. This was different. “I may need some time or breathing space every now and then,” he said, the words feeling awkward, but he was determined to push through. “You’re too important to me for me to screw this up.” With that, Thomas leaned in to kiss Steffen and wrapped his arms around the other again afterwards.

Steffen

   Steffen hadn’t been waiting for Thomas to come how with any expectations of him, or of this kind of conversation. Now that it was happening, it meant that he understood how important it was, because Thomas didn’t talk easily. It was the first time that he’d ever heard the other talk outright about what happened to his parents, or about how he and Drake had lived up until Thomas was eighteen. Steffen and Brooke had been lucky: they’d at least had their grandparents, and right or wrong, they’d been deliberately shielded from the knowledge of why their parents were gone. “Drake’s been my best friend since we hit high school,” he said. “Whatever you did, he’s one of the best people I’ve met, and really, you’re the one who contributed to that even being possible.” Pausing, he watched Thomas. “But it doesn’t sound like anyone was ever really there for you, or that you were ever put in a position where there was enough trust built for you to let them be. Is that a fair or unfair observation?”

   Slowly but surely, it was like the formation of puzzle pieces joining, and it was still incredibly evident how hard this was. It meant that Steffen tried not to press, instead only responding once he was certain that the other was done speaking, trying to listen and absorb everything as much as possible. That Thomas did something to himself that landed him in the hospital was enough to raise the hairs on the back of Steffen’s neck. “What did you do?” The words were soft, a question asked not because he wanted to know, but because he didn’t want to guess, but that was exactly what he wound up doing with the next question. “Did Sydney find you as it happened or something?” That Drake had been there too was enough to cause concern, and when Thomas drew him close he went willingly. His arms moved around the other and he settled against him in the hot water, touch smoothing over skin. “I know you’re not used to the talking thing,” he said softly, turned his head so that his focus remained on Thomas. “But I’ll always listen if you ever need to, especially when you’re trying like you are now.” Shifting, he traced his fingers lightly down Thomas’ back, a soothing thing, before meeting his eyes. “Thank you for entrusting me with even this much.”

  This was one of the reasons why Thomas felt like his relationship, with a lack of a better word, with Brooke would never have worked out. He didn’t feel like he had been completely honest with her. She was presented with an idea of him and it was a facade that he upheld as well as he could. She knew nothing about the resistance, never seemed to wonder what Thomas was doing when he was away for evenings. Steffen already knew more about him when they had been dating for about a month or so then what Brooke had known at the end of their match. It wasn’t a mistake he was willing to make again, especially because he was completely aware that he was making it and did it on purpose. It meant he had to try to put into words what his life had been like before he got a place of his own and make sure Drake and him weren’t going to be pushed around in the foster system any longer.  It didn’t mean that he didn’t doubt himself, because Drake never had a real parental figure since losing his own at age eight. Alas, the foster system had taken care of that all by itself, never giving them enough time with one family to get used to them and thinking to trust them, but it did mean that Drake and him were (too) used to relying on themselves and the other person. “I think I was - or am - very much used to just trusting myself and maybe Drake. It wasn’t at all appealing to ask for help from anyone because everyone was tied to the Council somehow and I didn’t trust them,” he replied. They, after all, killed his parents. No one in the right mind would trust the people who did that. “It wasn’t until after I moved out of Wesley and Ryanne’s house and got a place of my own with Drake that I slowly started to trust them. They didn’t just let me go. They kept calling and coming by and after a while even I had to conclude that they cared and that it had nothing to do with the Council telling them to do so. It was too much effort not to be genuine. It was around the same time that I met the twins, Kaya and Gianna, so that probably helped as well.” They went through something similar that Thomas did, but they had each other. Now Thomas was a part of their group and Thomas knew he could always count on them. It took him a while to learn and there were times that he still doubted it, but he was getting there.    The inevitable question - what did you do? but could have been phrased differently if Steffen hadn’t seemed to be so careful with his phrasing - came and despite of seeing it coming, Thomas looked away and tried to find a way to deflect from it until he told himself he had to say it because he would otherwise never. “I had these pills to help me sleep,” he started then. Those Steffen was familiar with, because he still took them every now and then. “And my foster mother had these pills that were supposed to ease migraines or something, I don’t remember. And my foster sister also took some sort of pills that I at the time had no idea were for. They were just laying around in the bathroom. So one night, I’d been planning it for weeks, I took advantage of the situation. Or disadvantage. Sydney just happened to walk by the house because he lived next-door to us and I guess he heard me knock over a bunch of stuff because I was so dizzy I could hardly see anything.” The rest of the story filled itself in: Sydney used the spare key to get in at the same time that Thomas’ then foster parents woke up and made Thomas stay conscious as they called an ambulance. Drake, of course, woke up too and made his way downstairs to see what was going on before anyone could stop him. He couldn’t look at Steffen then, so instead he drew the other closer and pressed a kiss to his hair. “So if you ever wonder why I’m surprised that you want to be with me or if I have trouble trusting new people or even you, this probably goes some way towards explaining. I’m working on it, but my default is not to trust anyone and that doesn’t seem to be going away.”

Steffen

   Talking with Kaya had been the strangest combination of familiar and new, and by the time she left, Steffen was tired from internally managing the cyclone of thoughts in his head. It meant that he slept for an hour on the couch, woke up disoriented and drank water until he felt more awake. Not much time later, Thomas arrived back and Steffen greeted him eagerly, kissed him back and took in his smile and concluded that whatever else had happened that day? He had never wanted anything more than he wanted this. It was surprisingly easy, being sat on the floor talking and eating pizza, and it was a strange glimpse too at how simple the past several months could have been if it hadn’t been for the Council’s stupid policies. Thomas and Brooke’s match might have been annulled, but Steffen wasn’t naive enough to think that would just be the end of it.

   That seemed proven by the fact that Thomas wanted to talk, and at first Steffen felt apprehension, but it was so plain within moments that the other was making an effort that his reply was easy enough. The hot tub felt like the perfect way to counteract how stressful the day had probably been for Thomas, and that made it the best choice. Sunk in the water himself, Steffen watched with lazy eyes as the other seemed to luxuriate in it. “You get some serious perks with this place. You should enjoy them more often.” He traced fingertips covered in bubbles over Thomas’ bare arm and shoulder before settling back himself, but the way that the other spoke and looked at him seconds later was enough to assure his complete attention. It wasn’t until Thomas started going more in depth that Steffen realised to some degree what he was trying to do: open up, and for someone who had only that morning said that he already had enough secrets to keep? That was incredibly hard. He didn’t interrupt whilst Thomas talked, instead quietly listened and took it in, right up until the moment that the surname Rosett was mentioned. He stiffened then. “The head of the Justice department and his wife? How long were you with them for?” Then he examined Thomas more closely. “Is this where I should ask about the incident, or is that not something you feel you can talk about?” It was a gently spoken question, but then Steffen added, quieter still, “Drake’s not told me much. Sometimes he does the throwaway remark thing and it makes me stop for a second, but he’s never wanted to talk.”

  Thomas had taken over the penthouse both as a place to sleep when he should not be driving home any more and a hide-out of some sort when he didn’t want to deal with whatever he would be encountering at home. It was giving into his tendencies to bail, usually, but now it was the opposite. It was a home for a relationship that the Council didn’t want existing and a save haven when his ex-girlfriend was still at his home. The hot tub was the kind of luxury he never thought he would use, but here they were. The location was the only thing easy about this, though, because talking about it decidedly wasn’t. He wasn’t used to talking about any of it and his discomfort probably showed.   It meant that he was glad when Steffen asked questions, because that gave him something to go on. He shook his head on the first question. “The department head of Justice doesn’t have a wife,” he said, a note of humour to his voice. “He’s married to his work. No, the man, Gavin, has a brother. Wesley. I tried refusing to move in with them because of their relation to the man that killed my parents, but they didn’t want to hear it.” He paused then and studied Steffen for a couple of seconds. “They are good people, Wesley and Ryanne. I still visit sometimes. But when I was eighteen I didn’t see that. All I saw was people trying to manipulate my little brother and me into supporting the people that killed our parents and I wanted nothing to do with it. I moved out when I was eighteen and took Drake with me. I used my parents’ money to buy a house and quit high school a year later to go to college early. Drake and me have been on our own very long and it’s not been particularly easy on either one of us. I can’t say now if it was the right decision, but it was what I did and Drake turned out alright.” His little brother had graduated high school and was going to college. He had good friends, was in love with the girl next door and was generally a good person Alright didn’t quite cut it.   Of course all this was going to be relevant eventually, since it was going a long way towards explaining the way that Thomas tended to behave. He was trying to make Steffen understand where it came from so the other would feel like he understood Thomas rather than get frustrated because he didn’t. Thomas wanted to try and share this. How difficult it was, was something that he was reminded of when Steffen asked about the incident. He leaned back and sighed deeply as he thought it through. “When I was sixteen, I did something to myself that ended me up in the hospital,” he said vaguely. “That was when it was decided that our then-current foster parents were not fit for the job. Drake was there when it happened, more or less, and I think it shaped the both of us quite considerably. If you ever wonder why I can’t stand Sydney Reyes: this is why. He had some terrible or perfect timing, dependent on point of view.” Reaching out for the other, he pulled Steffen into his arms and sighed again then. “Drake and I aren’t much for talking,” he added dryly. “Never had many people around that we trusted to talk to, so the habit has been engrained.”