Midday the following day we were sitting around in the ready room, taking it easy after Mark had put us through another punishing training session. It was working - all the repetitions, all the planning, and we now had something that I wouldn't have been afraid to try against a squad of goons.
It was still tough, though, and would be for the foreseeable future. We refined our techniques all the time - we couldn't guarantee that no-one would get away with footage of our fights, and when there are only five of you, you have to rely heavily on surprise. However, the basic premises had been unchanged since Mark and Keyop had first joined the team. They were a part of me, something I did as naturally as breathing. Even something as minor as replacing Jason with Tiny threw everything out. I had to wait just that fraction longer, adjust for the height difference, and even though Tiny's height and skill were closer to mine than Jason's were, making the change was hard.
We all knew it. Tiny was struggling physically, the rest of us mentally, and all we could do was to keep up the repetitions and wait for it to become second nature.
Or until it was no longer needed. Jason walked in so unobtrusively that it was several seconds until any of us reacted.
"Jason! How's things?"
He looked sideways at Keyop. "Better than they were, at least."
"You look a lot better," Tiny offered.
All I could think was that 'better' must be a relative term. His colour was wrong, and the way he leant against the wall somehow suggested that it was more for support than relaxation.
Mark opened his mouth to comment, stopped, and shut it again. I could see the confusion on his face. What was he supposed to say? None of the normal things fitted. Jason wasn't involved in training at the moment, hadn't been with Team 7, hadn't been allowed to drive, by all accounts hadn't even been fit to watch TV. What he'd been through recently didn't make for light conversation.
"So Johnson let you out then?"
The corner of Jason's mouth twitched. "Evidently."
Mark hesitated, and kept trying. "Are you coming back to training?"
The face hardened. "Not yet."
Mark gave a desperate glance sideways, and I wanted to crawl into a hole. This was awful. This was Jason, he'd been to hell and back over the past few days, and none of us could even think of anything to say to him.
"Have you eaten? We were just about to go to Jill's." That was Tiny, predictable as usual, if not exactly truthful, and Mark's sigh of relief was almost audible.
"No..."
"Did Chris give you a list of what to avoid?"
I frowned in confusion, but Jason pulled out a sheet of paper. "Yeah. Food."
Tiny's face twisted in sympathy, as he squinted at the page. "It's not so bad. There'll be something on Jill's menu you can eat. Come on, you've gotta want something better than canteen glop after this long."
"I'll drive!" Keyop piped up cheerfully.
"Yeah, and I'll sit on the roof." Tiny dismissed the suggestion. "I'll drive, and Jason can tell me if my transmission's about to fail."
Judging from Jason's expression, his attempt at diversion hadn't worked too well. Jason always drove when we went out. He looked as if he was about to say so when Mark cut in.
"Good idea, Tiny! Get the van, we'll meet you round the front. If..."
Jason glared. He hadn't lost that, at least. "Yes, Mark, I'm capable of walking to the door."
I caught Keyop's eye, and found his expression mirroring my own. As fun mealtimes went, this was going to be well down the list.
We got back into Tiny's van feeling more like a team than we had done for a while. Much of the awkwardness was gone, and we could talk without effort again. Without having to think of every word first. The sign of being comfortable with someone isn't being able to say the right thing to them. It's being able to say the wrong thing, and it not be a disaster. We were back to that point with Jason, and I felt much better about it.
It was still awkward, though. We were due in the simulator that afternoon, and I could see Mark trying to figure out whether to mention it, and if so, how. Jason had said he wasn't coming back to training, but had he meant all training, or just the violently physical side of it? An hour's scanner and sensor drill definitely didn't class as physical.
As it happened, it wasn't necessary. Jason visibly swayed and grabbed at the door of the van on getting out, and Keyop grabbed his elbow.
"You should go back to Medical."
Jason's face clouded, but Tiny jumped in smoothly. "Nah. Go lie down for a bit. We've got training for an hour, and you already said you're not back to doing that yet. Your system's still half full of drugs."
"Maybe." He turned towards the elevators just as one arrived and opened to let a man in ISO security uniform out, and I followed him in.
As the doors slid closed, he glared at me. "I don't need a nursemaid."
"No, but I need the sensor manual to update the settings." Thankfully, it was true. I'd never have come up with something believable fast enough if it hadn't been.
"Whatever." I wasn't surprised that he didn't believe me. In his situation, I'd have thought I was being nursemaided too.
I determinedly didn't watch him too closely as the elevator ascended. I knew that hand against the wall was supporting, not casual, and I knew he'd be embarrassed as hell about it if he realised I knew. That wouldn't help either of us.
Jason and I had always had rooms with doors facing one another across the corridor. Slightly offset, in that institutional way which gives you just enough privacy that if you both open your doors simultaneously you're not looking right into one another's rooms. Not that it meant a lot to us - both of us had somewhere else we considered home these days. Jason towed his behind his car (or possibly, for him, home was the car) while the apartment above Jill's was more my home than here was now. This was just a convenient place to stay, somewhere to sleep when I was too tired to make my way home, or required early the next morning. And somewhere to leave the books with too high a security rating to take off-site.
Jason strode off down the corridor at a speed my shorter legs couldn't hope to match without running to keep up. That would have been particularly blatant. I ignored it and headed for my quarters at a more sedate pace. I was surprised to see his door still open as I passed it, and turned to look in almost despite myself. Jason was standing just inside, envelope in one hand and a set of papers in the other. Not collapsed in a heap, which was all that really mattered.
"Fan mail?" I joked. Jason had to have seen me stop and look, and saying nothing would be worse.
He jumped so far that I cursed myself. Evidently he hadn't seen me stop and look. Hadn't seen me at all.
"No," was all he said, and I replied with "see you later" and went on to my own room. There wasn't a lot else to be done. If he'd wanted to discuss it, he would have. If not, nothing would make him do so. I presumed Anderson had left him something he wanted him to read in private, and thought no more of it for the rest of the day.
