“Thank you for your help, Doctor Taylor,” he said, offering his hand.
“Of course, of course,” Glinda said, shaking firmly. “I just hope you find out what happened to this poor boy and make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else. I can’t imagine what he went through in his final moments.”
Nor could Nathan.
He led Storm back to the elevator, but a piece of his mind remained behind in the morgue. Could that happen to others? Would it, if they didn’t solve this quickly enough? Or was it one overzealous possessor hungry enough for freedom that it attempted something drastic and impossible? He barely noticed Storm pressing the button for the elevator, stepping in automatically when it arrived.
His stomach roiled, and he curled his arms tightly around his middle, staring absently down at the floor. The elevator started to move—and then jolted to a stop. He raised his head to find Storm’s fingers falling away from the emergency stop button.
“What—”
“Shut up and come here. You’re pale and you need this.”
Storm didn’t give him time to form a response, pulling Nathan against him and hugging him tightly. His first instinct was to rebel, but the warm firmness of Storm’s body was too comforting to resist. He splayed his hands against Storm’s muscular back and turned his head, tucking it in the curve of Storm’s neck. He dragged the scent of tobacco and leather and soap deep into his lungs, washing away the stark memory of the body. The scent threw him right back to last night, and with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine they were back in his house.
He wouldn’t be like this with his squad. Why couldn’t he be strong with Storm? Why did he fold so easily?
“Why do you make me weak?” he asked while his face was safely hidden.
“Because I can handle being the strong one when we’re together.”
“I… I have to be strong.” It came out far whinier than he intended.
“You are.” Storm’s voice was calm and reassuring. One big hand swept up and down Nathan’s back, melting him in slow, sure strokes. “But you’re not Atlas. You can’t hold the world on your shoulders forever. Sometimes it’s okay to relieve yourself of it.”
“Is that what this is?” Was it a relief or a punishment? He couldn’t tell.
“I hope so. I want to help you carry that weight. I want you to let me.” Strong fingers carded with infinite softness through Nathan’s hair, and a warm kiss was pressed to his temple. “There’s a camera in here, so I should turn the elevator back on.”
“Right.” As though the weight on his shoulders was a physical thing, his body shook at the effort it took to pull away. He wanted to keep his gaze averted, but Storm wasn’t having it. Hands cupped his face, guiding his eyes up.
Storm smiled, pleased. “You’ve got some color back.” He reached over without looking and pushed the emergency stop. The elevator shuddered and began to rise, and Storm stroked Nathan’s cheek with his thumb all the while.
* * *
Stepping outside,the sunlight and warm breeze swept away the last remnants of the morgue below, leaving Nathan feeling somewhat lighter. He still had the complicated issue of his relationship with Storm to contend with, but that felt inconsequential after staring at the mauled body hiding below the hospital. He could still feel Storm’s arms around him, his fingers in his hair.
Nathan didn’t want to be weak. He didn’t like it. As a squad captain, he was responsible for the people in his charge. Weakness would get someone killed. It didn’t matter that they weren’t with him at the moment. He had to get it together so he could continue to be what his people needed. Letting his emotions rule him was dangerous.
He didn’t notice Storm following him until he reached his car and Storm let himself into the passenger seat.
“What—What are you doing?” he asked.
“Going with you to the Rink. I can come back for my truck later. We need to talk.”
Nathan scowled, searching for the anger he’d felt before he reached the hospital. “I don’t want to talk. I told you. Last night can’t mean anything. We had our fun?—”
“Last night wasn’t justfun.” He spat the word like it was a deeply personal insult. “Don’t mistake my leaving this morning as some sort of sign that I was done with you.”
“It doesn’t?—”
“Itdoesmatter. Don’t you fucking tell me it doesn’t. You felt it last night, too. I know you did.”
Nathan’s face was on fire. He started the car and backed out of the parking spot. If they were going to argue about this, he was going to be doing his job along the way.
“If Sloan finds out what happened, he’ll kill me. Probably literally. Don’t you understand? I’m working so hard to secure a truce between the guild and your people. If I screw this up, people could die. And if Sloan thinks I’m compromised because I had sex with you, he won’t entertain the truce anymore. I can’t let that happen. People will get hurt, and it’ll be becauseIwasn’t strong enough to control myself.” His grip was painfully tight on the steering wheel, but he couldn’t seem to make himself relax.
Storm sighed. “Do you really think he’s entertaining the truce anyway?”
