Wade wanted to cry. Why had someone had to see this?

  “Tell me that my ears were playing tricks on me,” Scotty said, voice dangerously calm. The smaller man stepped forward, not caring as the spilled food smeared on and under his usually immaculate boots.

  “How long were you listening?” Jasque asked.

  The wizard's mouth tightened, and he stared down Jasque for several seconds before turning to the Were. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me, Wade.”

  “What?” he said, looking between the two of them, not able to process everything that was happening in his skull, let alone in the world around him.

  “I heard enough, and Jasque meant every word of it if he was too occupied to notice me. I’m reporting this to Thresher, and you’re not leaving my sight until we get radio confirmation that Jasque has arrived at a post that is too far away to come back.”

  “Come on, you don’t need to do this,” Wade said, holding up his hands and frantically taking in the subtle signs of rage he still saw in the handler's bearing. “It’s just hot tempers. Just a blip—”

  Scotty held up a hand to stop him, “Please stop. I will not argue. I need you to trust me, and if you can’t trust me, then I’m calling in a favor. Even if it feels wrong, even if you’re afraid, you owe me. If you were ever my friend, then you owe me this, and you will follow me.”

  “No, Wade,” Jasque said in a chilly tone. “Whatever Scotty thinks he heard is his business. We have plans of our own and an incursion to prepare for.”

  Wade felt like a balloon in the shape of a man. His head was floaty, his chest was empty, and he was a breath away from popping. He was nothing but thin skin, and every breeze thrashed him like a typhoon. Even worse, two children each had a string and were pulling him in different directions.

  If Scotty called in this chip on a usual day, he would have immediately and willingly walked blindfolded into a minefield, no question. He would dispose of a body or break into a third-world prison.

  But Jasque…

  There would be consequences and—

  As if reading his thoughts, Scotty took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slowly let the air out.

  “I see.”

  Terror was the tickle of a razor’s dull edge caressing against his balloon skin. Was he about to lose his friend? Was that going to be the end of this standoff between the two most constant companions in his life?

  Perversely, that thought filled him with a pathetic ooze-like sense of relief. Without the tug of war, he could just collapse. Stop being a person, stop making choices, and just be the next thing he had to accomplish until everything was over.

  Scotty opened his eyes, and Wade almost flinched from the resolve shining in them. “I consider this a risk to my best friend’s safety and well-being. Just so you know, Wade, I am ready to fight both of you if that's what it takes to get your ass in front of Frost. Know that,” he didn’t look at Jasque, just stared at Wade, “I am so sorry. I thought it was bad, but not this bad. Now that I know, it will not continue. Starting now, this is going hands-on; you will come with me, or I will bleed out on the ground. There are no other ways this ends.”

  “Please—”

  “No,” his friend said before turning to Jasque. “So what do you say? Are we all walking to Frost, or am I going to see what color your blood is?”

  Before the Slayer could answer, Wade was rushing to his best friend’s side, arms wrapped around him and body curved like he was shielding the man from an incoming blow.

  Jasque yelled something. But the only thing Wade heard was Scotty whispering to him as he hustled them back towards camp. “I am so sorry, Wade. I should have seen it sooner. But it’s okay. I’m here now. You’re going to be okay. No one will ever treat you like that again.”

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  ~~~

  Thresher’s tent was secure enough from eavesdropping and surprisingly resistant to intrusion for being a simple canvas box. Still, it wasn’t enough for a conversation like this. To make sure no one interrupted, they had moved to a small bunker. It was one of many claustrophobic, concrete pillboxes being built along the shore where the seers had told them to expect the incursion to take place.

  The four of them were stationed around a fold-out metal table. Frost was sitting with his mask and gloves neatly arranged on the table. Wade slumped next to him, wishing all of this would be over. Scotty refused to sit, and Jasque had very clearly looked at Scotty’s aggressive stance and stayed standing himself, though he leaned casually against a wall.

  “—and that's it,” Jasque said, calm and collected, though obviously annoyed with the whole fiasco. “We’re full-grown men. I don’t see any reason why we need to hide in a bunker because Wade and I got stressed before a big incursion. Especially not with all the disruptions, team changes, and travel fraying everyone’s nerves.”

  Frost’s face was impassive as he looked over at Scotty. The smaller Bane stood straighter. “I’ve said my piece. I knew Jasque was pushing Wade, but this goes beyond a tough coach. It’s not just Wade feeling bad because he spends all his time comparing himself to a Slayer who is constitutionally incapable of enjoying anything other than training. It’s unhealthy, abusive, and needs to stop. Wade hides what he eats from Jasque. He’s isolated; he looks for approval rather than making the smallest choices. And, more than anything else: just look at him.”

  All eyes turned to Wade, and he was tempted to shift forms so that he could fit under the table.

  A warm hand gripped his wrist, and when he looked up, he saw the kind eyes and classic movie star grin of Frost. “What do you say? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Wade whispered. And he meant that. He was sensitive. Always had been. Probably would always be weak that way. And, honestly, even if he had to cut off his own pinky, it would be less painful than having everyone talk about him this way. “Plus, it’s not like Jasque said anything untrue.”

  The hand on his arm spasmed, gripping painfully tight.

  The movie star grin turned brittle.

  Before he could speak, Jasque butted in, “See! This whole thing is being blown out of proportion. Wade wants to be strong. I train him hard because his life is too important for pussy footing around. That's normal, that's reasonable. More than that, it’s my job. I keep him on track. Scotty is just—”

  “Shut your mouth,” Frost said, his voice cracking like a whip.

  The entire room froze. Slowly, the man in his black clothes came to his feet, gripped his hands behind his back, and started pacing in the light of the single lantern they had brought with them.

  “Your job was to protect Wade. And—this is important, so listen very closely—” when the white haired man turned around, he looked not at all like the legendary General Frost who had guided the Banes through the worst days of The Vault opening. He did not look like one of the very first Godkillers. He looked like a father ready to strike someone dead for harming his child, come hell or high water. “There is nothing wrong with Wade, and you are only superior to him in a limited combat application. You were never meant to guide him, you were never meant to mentor him, and there was a damn good reason why I never gave you that authority or that responsibility.”

  All expression left the Slayer’s expression. He stood straight, face slack and almost bored. “Understood.”

  “No, I don’t think it is,” Frost stepped over to Wade and crouched to look him in the face. “I have no doubt, but also no evidence. That is temporary, though. Wade, you have my absolute support and my absolute faith.” The Were heard his words, but the only thing that really got through to him was what his minder had said yesterday. People who trusted you and had faith did not pay someone to follow you around with a bullet ready in case you ever crossed the line.

  ”I support you finding mentors,” the white haired man continued, ”I support you working hard to advance along the path you’ve chosen, but this is not you.” With a final squeeze of his shoulder, Frost came to his feet. “At this point in time, I am confident saying that the way Jasque spoke was unacceptable. Scotty’s report has raised my level of concern to the degree that I must take action. Things will need to change while I file an official report and begin investigating all relevant history.”

  “Yes!” Scotty cried. “When is he leaving?”

  “... it’s not that simple,” Frost said.

  And with those words, Wade felt his heart sink into the ground even as Jasque smirked, ready to accept whatever slap on the wrist he got.

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