Shattered Salvation, CH 50 (Patreon)

The ship shuddered as it landed, hard.

Tristan stared at the screen showing him the back of the small hangar and the debris of the door he’d crashed through. He shook his head and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. The stims were wearing off again.

He reached for the injector, but the vial was empty. With a curse, he searched through the vials littering the console and the floor. One of them had to still contain something. There was no way he’d used them all up already.

He threw the injector against the wall with a scream. He was so tired. What he needed was sleep, but when he’d tried, the dreams came.

He pivoted in the chair and bared his teeth at Alex, immobile in one of the two intact chairs in the troupe section of the ship. The naked Alex.

Torture, that was why Alex had done this, to torture him. At least the erection had gone away in the months of transit. Alex had miscalculated with that, but to see him naked like this still took its toll on Tristan.

With a roar, he launched himself out of the chair, hand high, claws out. This time. This time he would do it. He would finally be rid of the human. He landed on his feet, hand still high, shaking, but not coming down. With a yell of exasperation Tristan turned, grabbed a pipe that had been part of a chair, and hit the wall over Alex’s head repeatedly.

How could the human have this kind of control over him when he was under cryo? What was so special about him?

“There’s nothing special about you,” Tristan jeered. He turned his back to him. “Absolutely nothing.” He closed his eyes and visualized Alex, seated behind him. He relaxed his hand, made a fist, and spun. The motion would carry it through, nothing would stop it.

His fist impacted the wall, close enough to Alex’s head he felt the hair flutter against his fur. No, this was impossible. He didn’t miss. He never missed. His fist should have gone through Alex’s head. There should be blood in his fur, brain matter, bone fragment.

He pulled his first away from the bloody dent he left. There was blood on his knuckles—his own. 

“Why!” The scream reverberated in the small space.

He had no idea what he was even asking. Why Alex had sought him out? Why Tristan had allowed him to force his way into his life? Why he couldn’t hurt him? Why he was haunting Tristan’s sleep? 

Even cryo hadn’t been safe from Alex; Tristan had set up a short test run, just in case, and during that he’d dreamed of them, floating together, pressed against one another. Both out of control in the pleasure they brought each other.

Unlike Alex, Tristan’s desire hadn’t gone down during the trip. 

Horror dawned. They were back. He was home, and Alex was still there. He couldn’t let Alex come home with him. He would never feel peace again with him there. Tristan whimpered. Why did he have to bring Alex back with him? Why did he have to find him in the first place? Why couldn’t he have stayed away?

He stopped. Yes, why?

Why did he have to take Alex out of cryo? He didn’t. He could leave him here, looking perfect forever. He could lock the ship, and no one would ever know what he’d done, not even Alex.

But what would the town think? He paced the length of the ship. Stepping over the debris. They’d ask after Alex, of course they would. They liked him all so much.

“You have no business liking him,” he snarled. “He’s mine, not yours.”

He’d thrown him away, that’s all they needed to know. He’d gotten tired of him.

“No, no, no. It’s wrong. Tech, it’s Tech who lives here. Tech wouldn’t throw Alex away. Why can’t they accept me? Why do I have to be Tech?”

He had to calm down.

He yawned. 

He needed stims.

No, he needed to think clearly, think things through. He growled. Why was this so difficult?

Who was Tech?

“He cares, that’s who he is,” Tristan said with disgust. “He wouldn’t abandon anyone. Tech is Alex’s friend—his lover, according to the townsfolk.” He laughed, then had to put a hand against the wall as tears began falling.

“Relationships fail,” he said through the sobs. “Humans have falling outs. They don’t all stay together. Yes, that’s what happened. Alex and Tech had a falling out.” He grabbed his chest at the idea of Alex leaving.

He screamed.

Except Alex wasn’t leaving. He’d never leave. He would always be here, immobile, silent, perfect. Tristan could come see him any time he wanted.

“And it’s not me who’s had a falling out, it’s Tech. What had it been about?” He looked at Alex. “What could you do that would hurt Tech so badly he’d come back without you? Come back. Of course, you’re a merc. You’re not going to give up the life, and Tech, he can’t hack that. He’s peaceful. Sure he can try, but he’s a researcher, not someone who lives for violence.” Tristan was on his feet. “How the fuck could you demand that of him? All he wanted was for the two of you to be together, but no, your adrenaline was so more fucking important than his feelings, than having a place to call home. Tech didn’t leave you. You fucking abandoned him.”

Tristan stared at Alex. “What kind of selfish asshole are you to deny someone love? You come all the way here. Make him think there’s hope, and then when it’s all over, you just walk away?”

Yes, that was what had happened. Alex hadn’t been worthy of Tech. Tech would hurt, but he’d get over him. Maybe there’d be a guy here that would offer to comfort him. And maybe Tech would say yes. A quiet man would be more appropriate for the gentle researcher.

He left the ship and quickly locked it. He looked at the hole where the door had been. Tech hadn’t been in the best state of mind, the portmaster would understand, when Tech was able to explain. He’d come back and replace the door. Make it automatic, like Tech kept offering to do. But for now, he wanted to be as far away from Alex, that asshole, as he could.

He set a quick pace. He wanted his workshop, peace and silence. His tools and research. He wanted familiar things that had existed before Alex barged into his life. When everything was the way it should be.

Halfway to the town he saw the portmaster approaching. He readied himself. Reminded himself that Tech was broken-hearted. Sad, he might even cry.

“Hey, Tech,” the man said as they reached each other. “Welcome—”

“I’m fine,” Tristan snapped and kept going.

He saw the portmaster turn in his peripheral vision, perplexed.

He cursed himself mentally. He didn’t care about the portmaster, but he was Tech, and Tech did care. He’d take the time to talk; they were friends. Except Tech was grieving. Alex had dumped him for a life of adventure. That could explain his mood, couldn’t it?

It had to be enough, because the portmaster didn’t chase him to ask for an explanation.

Soon enough, the town came into view and he prepared himself for that. Cursing himself. Why had he settled on the other side of the town? Why couldn’t he have picked a spot on the plain between the port and it? Now he had to walk through and deal with the people there.

People came out of the buildings, calling to him and letting others know he was back. He forced a smile on his face that felt stiff.

“Tech!” the tavern owner called. “How was the trip? Where’s Alex? Running late?”

“Tech!” the medic called over him. “I want you and Alex by the clinic for a checkup.”

“Where’s Alex?” someone else called. Alex, and Alex again. They all called for him? Was he still at the ship? Was he bringing their baggage?

“Leave me alone!” he almost growled, but remembered it wasn’t something Tech did. He also didn’t yell, but it was too late to fix that. And he’d been abandoned, so yelling was fine since all they seemed to care about was the asshole who’d dumped Tech.

Part of him wanted to see fear in their eyes, but all that was there was concern. Worry for his wellbeing. He kept walking and put them out of his mind.

Others came out of stores, but were intercepted. They spoke too softly for him to hear, but when they looked, it wasn’t at him, it was toward the port. Alex again. As he reached the edge of town, one of the groups was close enough he heard part of the conversation.

“Alex…not there.”

“Hurt…” There had been a question there.

More too soft for him to hear. The tones became harsh.

“He left… Who does…that asshole.”

Tristan slowed. Had he just insulted Alex? No one did that to— He forced himself to continue. They were just words. Alex wasn’t what they said. He was strong, loyal, deadly. He’d cared enough to stick by Tristan through all the pain he’d inflicted.

He wanted to scream.

He picked up the pace, then he was running. He needed the isolation of his workshop. He needed to do something so he wouldn’t think about Alex. He ran away from the town, trying to forget the concern in their eyes, their worry. He didn’t need their sympathy. He didn’t need anything or anyone. He was Tristan. He survived alone.

His hand shook so hard he had trouble disarming the security on his workshop. First the explosives, then the lock code. He was inside, unable to breathe. He looked around for anything that would calm him, but the familiar tools and weapons didn’t help. 

He was suffocating.

He hit his chest with a fist and felt the metal diamond there. Alex appeared before him, and he backed until he was against the wall, Alex staying with him.

It wasn’t his Alex, it was the one from before, the plump one. The one he’d seduced. The hologram was smiling, mocking him.

With a scream he ripped it off his body, the adhesive taking fur and flesh with it. He didn’t care. How dare he invade Tristan’s workshop? Alex knew the rules. This was the one place he was supposed to be safe.

He dropped the bloody diamond on the closest table and picked up the half-assembled rifle next to it. He slammed the butt down on it. He didn’t bother looking if it had been enough. He did it again, and again. He only stopped when the rifle broke apart under the last impact.

He leaned against the table, finally able to breathe. He was finally alone. He was safe, he could relax. Alex wouldn’t get him here. All he needed to do was focus on his research.

He yawned. And sleep, he needed sleep.

No! He rushed to the cabinet with his medical supplies. Packages flew out until he found the stimulants. In the injector the vial went, and in him the content followed. He shook himself, finally feeling awake.

He went to the table and picked up the lock on it, almost dropping it in his jittery hands. He chuckled. He should wait until the rush of the stimulant passed. Something crashed and he jumped, grabbing the portable datachip-reader and pointing it at the door leading inside the house. Had Alex gotten out?

One of the terminals beeped, and with a roar he slammed the screen with the reader , only catching the communication was from the portmaster as the reader and his fist went through it.

“Leave me alone!” he yelled at it.

Silence, except for the sparking terminal.

He sat down. He had to work; it was the only way he’d be able to calm down. He stood and paced the length of the workshop. He would get through this. He was Tristan. He survived everything the universe threw at him and gave back worse.

Feeling calmer, he sat at a different table and turned that terminal on. Schematics appeared. He looked at them, trying to remember what he’d been working on. How long ago had that been? He couldn’t make sense of it. It was so badly designed the lines looked like they were overlapping each other.

He yawned and the screen somehow became dimmer. He had to fix it, he thought. That would give him something to do. He needed to keep busy, to keep Alex away from…

Alex was touching him, caressing him. Forcing him to feel emotions he’d spent his life burying. He screamed for Alex to stop. He begged and pleaded, but Alex didn’t listen, making him feel so many things.

Tristan was trapped, at the human’s mercy, and Alex showed him none.