"The country is still in mourning about the countless acts of terrorism shaking our society." A voice greets him. His sister sits at the kitchen table, with some sort of construct made of her phone and a book, watching an interview or something. To his surprise, his best friend has planted her ass on the seat next to her, wearing the grey shirt with the burn hole again.

They aren't really friends, but they sometimes do this, especially since he wouldn't leave the bed or go anywhere. It's a familiar sight but in a good kind. "People argue about the need to strengthen the police forces and the military. You made your stance very clear these last months."

"Bitch, you did," Cameron says, filled to the brim with hatred and anger.

His sister snorts. Thomas stops, watching them.

Their hair is down a mass of frizzled curls and dark strands.

" A clear stance is very important." someone defends. "We should be grateful for someone as strong and willing as Mrs. Merandus to defend our rights."

"Oh shit," Thomas says and ducks behind them, squeezing his head between theirs, almost resting on their shoulders. He gets a nudge from one side and a pat from the other.

The camera pans around in the room and he looks at a very, very familiar frame with blue eyes, ashen hair put into a tight knot.

"Some people and organizations could argue we cut down the rights of the Red population." someone says very quietly, not really understandable in the whole mumble.

"He just destroyed his life and lost his reputation." His sister comments and crosses her arms.

"Let us not forget the bombs tore a whole in any form of reasonable negotiation. It was a throwback for any attempt to provide a sense of stability. "

"Stability is a key word here. How can they expect any form of adjustment when there is no answer but violence?"

"Ugh." Cameron makes. Some sort of creative slur follows soon enough.

Thomas agrees before he gets up and scavenges the cupboard. He doesn't have the guts to look at this now. He'll see that woman soon enough again.

It's a little like they are playing tag, pulling the foundations down, wondering where the other is. Not like she's not aware of where he is most of the time. He's pretty sure she knows everything by now.
He's just a lowlife. Not as ragged and ratty anymore, but not worth to openly acknowledge his existence. Oh, but he is sure she does. It's in the way she moves whenever they meet at the elevator or looks grazing, barely able to hold. He feels like he is about to explode.

"I have something for you."

"You are shady again."

Maven doesn't take the bait. "More specific, it's because you asked me about the whereabouts of your friend's brother. And if I wanted to help out clearing charges against a branded group of terrorists and criminals."

"And you won't help, you won't even apologize."

"Luckily I don't have to." It's an USB stick. A tiny silver thing. It slips easily into Thomas' hand. " I owe you that one. But don't expect me to jump around spouting about family business."

"Family business? What the-" he doesn't get to ask the question.

And even if he did. He would not get an answer.

"Let us assume I asked someone very friendly. I won't go into details about any of my or my mother's methods."

Whatever bad blood between his mother and him, he won't rat her out. Shame, really. But then again, maybe it's the grown-up thing to do. At least for now. Or maybe it's the last rest of loyalty. Or whatever twisted version those two have to each other.

Maybe he's afraid of the backlash. After all, there are things he has had an intake. He's been with her a lot. Who knows what he knows.

All the better if he finally leaves.

"I'll have to get this to my friend. Bet you don't wanna tag along. But maybe come over later? My sister is gonna babysit the evening?"

There is a pondering moment before Maven leans over and presses the softest fluttering kiss on Thomas' cheek.

"You are a good person, Thomas."

"I try, sometimes." Thomas jokes.

Pretending this is all stable and healthy and normal and not a shitton of work and hurt.

His sister finds him more often in the middle of the night.

"Are you looking up Elara Merandus again?" she asks drowsily.

"It's always going down," he whispers, twirling his pen in his fingers.
She is clearly confused, still half trapped in a dream, looking at him in her unicorn shirt. "What?"

"I mean the elevator, "he explains and his pencil hits the desk with a clinking sound. "Always down. You'd expect her to go to the upper level, boss and all."

She's willing to at least consider that before she answers. "Maybe you always catch her when she heads for her car. There are things like parking decks."

"No, I swear, it's something else."

She sighs. "Please stop, Tommy. Not every bad person has a secret lair hidden behind a fake wall."

"But-ugh." He takes a deep breath.

"No, listen." she shakes her head. "I work in that building. You don't think I check things out? There's no secret basement and central control. If anything, there's some dirt on Blonos, but rest assured that's under lock and key in his office."

They don't talk about that moment in the hallway anymore, but it's still making his blood boil. It is like an invisible wall between them, leaving him helpless.

"All right," he surrenders. " maybe not. Still. She's everywhere. Like. Literally. Look at this shit." He bites the pencil hard. It makes a crunching sound and his sister stares disgusted before leaning over and following the words on his screen as he shifts through tabs. "I mean there's not just the CEO thing. She owns half the buildings in the inner part and there are the Stilts and several construction companies, medical care, now the police are involved too, and she's on board with every person important enough."

"I told you the city is hers." His sister just says. "And it's not like she's not on par with influence out if of town either. This whole thing is important for every Red person in the country, baby brother. You can be damn sure a lot of people don't want us to get a better life."

One day he's having enough. Sneaking out of the stale air and wasting his only break , he presses the button of the lowest level and waits.

The elevator opens with a little pinging sound. Doors sliding open he steps out. It's colder down here, and smells distinctevely of gasoline.

His sister was right. No secret lair. There's just the maintenance, a staircase up and another door.

It leads outside, up another small and half hidden staircase made of concrete. He follows them upstairs and finds himself in the back of the big building. There's a fence. Some dried up dead bushes, frozen in the cold. He follows the line along the fence and finds himself on a little path. To the right the small way leads behind, to the other neighbouring buildings. Big lumps of glass. Modern architecture is the worst. This is ugly, and it stands for things he hates.

A backdoor. Why would someone like her use a way like this?

Maybe to avoid being seen stepping into a front door?

Couldn't she play it off? Someone involved in everything always finds excuses, right?

He decides it worth remembering, maybe spending a night on the laptop again.

There is the easy habit of falling half asleep next to each other. It's a dangerous one, but for now, it's all that matters, curled up against each other, huddled under the blanket.
After a few times of getting up too soon, they actually just fall asleep, a face in the crook of a neck and arms holding tight.
There is the slightest crack of grey light in Thomas tiny room when he wakes up, back pressed against the wall because the mattress is too tiny to stretch out with the two of them.

He still wouldn't trade the view of a tousled dark-haired head on his pillow for anything else. Not even a bigger bed.
He decides not to say anything and use the opportunity.
It doesn't last as long as he had hoped.

"Morning." he says into the blanket and the shirt, not ready to let go.

"Morning?" Maven whispers back, before snapping up. Or trying as good as one can move with the dead weight of someone still curled up against one. "Did we fall asleep?"

"I really didn't want to wake you. You need the sleep."

"I didn't plan to stay." His voice sounds unpleasant sharp in the grey dimness of a cold day.

"It's weekend, I don't need to work." Thomas whispers, making no effort to get up. Just lingering in the warmth.

"That doesn't change the fact I needed to leave eight hours ago."
"Lemme check first. If the coast is clear." Thomas says, scrambling to his bare feet.

He slips the jacket on without even really thinking about it.

It's blue. It's not his own. No holes. And it doesn't smell of him. He freezes for a second. Thinking about pulling it off again.

When his eyes move he catches a little gleaming look from blue eyes before they flicker back to the phone in his hand.

There's the smell of coffee and fresh bread in the air. Not a good sign. If the bread girl is back he'll have to wait for the exact right moment to smuggle Maven out.

He takes a second, grabbing the collar and sniffing the familiar and pleasant smell of the shirt's owner. There's some tingling sensation in his stomach. It's not the puppy love he remembers, but also not the heartache.

Good. Sad Thomas was the worst. He always moaned and complained until he was too depressed to get out of the bed.

And puppy love Thomas was an idiot calling his friends out when they wanted to help.

Version 3.0 needs some help, but things could work out. Need to.

Maybe it is time he spills the beans to everyone.

Maybe he should. Talk it out. If Cameron hasn't killed him telling Hannah and Barrow and Farley can't be that bad, can it?

And then he can move on and be cool. Spend time with his family. Maybe even his father.

A very optimistic plan.

You can do it! He pep talks himself, nodding, before finally pulling his nose out of the sweater and slouches over the floor.

He almost stumbles into his older sister on the floor, cup in one hand cellphone in the other.

Thomas swallows, the optimist has run off, middle finger in the air.

Running back is out of question. That'd be too loud. Maybe slow retreat. Or running to the bathroom and wait until she's gone. He regrets not having his phone. He hopes Maven stays safely put in his own bedroom.

She looks up and he lost the chance.

There's a red alarm bell ringing in his head.

"Tommy, it's your free day and you are out of bed before dinner?" His sister stares at him in open surprise. "I am impressed."

"That's because it's such a beautiful day." He's trapped in his own home.

"And it's not because you're having someone over."

"Of course not. " He answers way too loud. "Why would I have someone over?"

"I saw the shoes when I came home. And you didn't t do the dishes. For two people." she takes a sip from her cup. Damn ninja sisters and their very perceptive observations. "Try to be subtle, baby brother."

"Haha," Thomas makes and doesn't look her in the eyes. He sounds like he's about to choke.

"Someone I know?"

Now would be a good moment to just spill the beans. He has to start somewhere, doesn't he?

He thinks of Cameron's sour face giving him a reprieve. He can't even look his sister in the eyes.

"Nooo, I mean, yes, but, not like super close."

"Finally told your crush how you feel, didn't you?"

Easy to put her on a wrong track and just not talk about it at all.

"Eh..kind of. It's complicated, Hanni, please don't ask."

There are other things, easier. And more important.

"Wait," something in her face scrumbles and falls when she looks at the jacket. "You hate blue. You never wear it. You don't even like drawing with it."

"It's not mine." He tries and when he sees her head almost explode he knows it's the wrong thing.

"Is he still in there?" she asks and points into the supposed direction of his room.

Her hand hits the door hard.

"Hello, Hannah," Maven sounds polite, isn't that good? Thomas wants to bury himself under his blanket and never come out.

What was that lumberjack idea he had? He'd really rock the man bun, wouldn't he?

"You." she says and if she was using one of the many slurs of the Cameron Cole dictionary, it wouldn't have been more of an actual insult. "You stabbed good people in the back and broke my brother's heart."

Living in the woods, never see another person...

"Things can change, especially in times like this."

"Sure." She mocks before her eyes lock Thomas in deadly precision of lasers ready to burn a hole in his brain. "Are you an idiot? What happened the last time? Did you forget how much of a wreck you were Thomas?"

"I can assure you-" Maven starts but gets cut off when she whips her hands up.

"I am NOT talking to you, so shut it." She snaps. Then her force concentrates on him and he feels like a little child again, looking up in her face because he messed something up and she has to cover for him again and take the blame. She got in trouble with Mom and Dad often enough because she protected him.

"He is responsible for the deaths of people. You knew some of them. And some are in prison or still under warranty." Her finger pokes a hole in the air in front of them. "And let's not forget he told the world his brother is a piece of shit. And that you are a stalker, druggie, and a joke!"

"He'll fix it," he looks over to a very silent Maven. "You'll fix it. It takes time. All of it. And yeah I am still pissed about a lot of stuff."

"There's nothing that can fix death." She shakes her head and he feels the disappointment seep into his bones. "And just because you promise something doesn't mean something changes."

"Calm down, please, bread girl, it's cool. I am superfine this time." He tries to disarm her. "We have some rules to improve shit."

"See? " Maven says, a little dry. "superfine."

Now she's positively angry. "Don't try to creep under my brother's skin again. He was over you!"

"Dear Hannah," Maven looks very diplomatic. He doesn't mean a word. There's something twitching around his eyes for a moment. "I appreciate your concern. It is uncalled for. And your brother is old enough to make decisions for himself."

"Gee, thanks," Thomas notes somewhere between mildly frustrated and terrified.

"You leave my apartment and never," her nostrils flare. "never come back."

"It's my home too!" Thomas protests but it seems as always, it will be unheard.

" Actually no."

Well there it comes, I asked for it, he wants to say but huffs only in anticipation of the words that will come out with the slightest bit of spite. Who can he fool anymore.

"Thomas asked me to move in. Maybe I'll take the offer."

"You offered what?" she isn't yelling. It's more disbelief.

" You do?" Thomas asks. "Good on you."

"If he moves in," Hannah promises. "I move out."

"Fine." Thomas gives it his best fuck it attitude. "I had hoped you'd understand, cause it is a little more iffy than Maven makes it, maybe just listen, cause a lot has happened, but if you wanna go back to Mom and Dad, do it. Or maybe I should leave. You pay most in the end."

"That's not fair," she bristles. "I always tried to be on your side. I love you, Tommy, so please-"

"Yeah, I get it." He takes a deep breath.

"I-" She turns away, with a last glance how they lean in the door, hunched together, not quite touching, but might as well. One of them shifts, the other follows the motion.

"We'll talk later. I need to take a very long, long walk."

He watches her turn her back and grabbing her jacket. There's a sour taste in his mouth.

"She's not like that usually."

"Next time you ask someone to move in with you, " Something shines through a crack of the calm facade in Maven's face. "Make sure the person is welcome."

"She probably likes the other guy I am dating more." Thomas jokes, shrugging.

"The other guy?" Maven tilts his head. "Tell me more, please."

"Yes, he's ah, cool. And he doesn't steal my blanket and he doesn't stare at me when I sneeze like I just turned into a gremlin."

"You make that face when you sneeze." The answer is so thoughtful it makes him laugh, leaning forward.

He shouldn't do this at all. He still reaches over and presses his lips against Mavens. There's a sharp breath. A sun erupts in his chest at the sound.

To his surprise there's not even the slightest pause before hands wander over his shoulder, fingers clawing into his collar. Thomas' hands push up searching. Leaving traces, only to find themselves tangled in dark strands of hair in the end, letting it slip through his fingers.

He smiles a little into the kiss, knowing he wouldn't stop for the world.

His breath is heavy when he stops, fingers brushing over hair, tracing the shell of an ear and finding rest around the sharp line of a cheekbone.

There's the soft hesitating brush of two noses, something so gentle he supposes it can't be real.

"You should go." Is all he can say, whispering the words into the touch.

"I know." Is the only answer he gets before a brow presses against his.

Thomas presses his eyes closed shut to keep the sadness inside. He prepares himself for the breakdown. Always comes.

"I don't want you to," he says, not able to let go. So much to the casual touching rule. "I want this to be right, you know?"

"Yes, I know."

The next thing he knows they are kissing again, electricity buzzing through Thomas' veins like a street light. His back hits the wall hard. Thomas snorts before he's silenced again. His hands wander down, creeping under Maven's shirt.

"Okay," he decides to pry himself away, hands retreating, missing the warmth of the skin already. "Okay, this is-sorry."

For a moment it's like they are two strangers in a very uncomfortable situation, not looking at each other.

"I should get ready. I have places to be."

"Places to be!" Thomas exclaims, clearing his throat. "See you tomorrow?" He asks, hopeful.

"I'll stop by."

"Cool," Thomas gives a small wave with his hand.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"My jacket."

"Oh."

He slips out of it as fast as he can, handing over a tangled mess.

"You know she will talk about this to someone."

Thomas sighs. "Maybe it's time to come clean. You too."
This will get ugly.