Chapter 6: A Celebration

"You made it!"

The sparkle of joy in Tori's eyes at Shane's arrival almost outdoes the one on her finger; the ring blazing as it catches the light. "Wouldn't have missed this for the world," he tells her, allowing himself to be drawn into her embrace. "Congratulations, Tor."

The surfer's arms tighten around him, holding him close. "I am so glad you're here," she says, bringing her mouth up to his ear, ensuring her words are for him and him alone. "Stay only as long as you want; no pressure. Even if you walk back out the door now, we'll understand." She pulls away, smile fixed in place but her gaze searching.

He gently extracts himself from her arms, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll be fine. But thank you."

She nods, lips twitching into a smile. "Okay. But fair warning; the Factory Blue guys can be… a bit much."

"I'll bear that in mind." He smiles back. "Besides, they probably haven't got a patch on some of the marines I know."

Tori laughs. "Dustin and Cam are over here." She takes his arm, touch light but steady as she expertly steers him through the crowd to where the couple have taken up position in a quieter corner of the room. As they pass a table laden with beer and spirits and mixers, Tori snags a bottle, offering it over to him. Shane's face heats, polite rejection on his tongue but she twists it around to reveal its blue label. "Alcohol-free; I got you," she says and Shane honestly doesn't think he could love her more in this instance.

He wraps his fingers around the glass, the condensation a pleasant cool dampness against the heat of the small room.

"Hey dude, you made it," Dustin cheers as they reach them, grasping Shane's hand warmly and at the same time not-so-subtly manoeuvring to make room for the other man to stand with his back to the wall. As with the non-alcoholic beer, it's little adjustments his friends have begun making for him that he's never asked for, but appreciates more than he can express. But they don't seek thanks, or draw attention to their actions, so he just goes with it.

He settles against the wall, some of the tension easing in his neck and shoulders at the solid reassurance against his back, and grins at the earth ninja just as a voice rises above the crowd. "Tori!"

Blake's beckoning to his now-fiancee and the blonde gives the three men a wink. "Duty calls. I'll be back in a bit. Have fun!"

They watch her skip across the room, Blake catching her around the waist and swinging her in for a kiss.

"Dude, we get to go to a wedding!" Dustin says, grinning at the other two men.

Cam snorts. "About time," he rumbles, then turns to Shane. "How's college?" Trust that to be the Samurai's first question.

Shane takes a swig of the beer. "It's good. I'm enjoying the classes. My father even spoke to one of his friends to get me some work experience with the counsellors at the veteran's centre downtown too."

"You told your folks about your major then?" Cam raises an eyebrow, next words cautious. "How'd they take it?"

"Yeah bro, psychology. It's not like law or business." Dustin wrinkles his nose, clearly recalling the last time they spoke and Shane's voiced concern that his parents would disapprove of his chosen major.

He'd put off telling them for weeks; a pit in his stomach each time they'd asked and his lie about having not quite decided sounding less and less sure until finally he'd summoned up the courage to confess he'd chosen psychology. He'd expected disappointment, perhaps even anger. At the minimum an attempt to dissuade him from his course. But instead- "Surprisingly well. Guess they're just glad I'm doing 'something'; like at least I'm at college."

That's unfair, and Shane knows it. Since he's been back — even before he decided he would go to college — his parents have been really supportive. More than that, they've been present; inviting him for dinner, coffees, asking him about his life, taking an interest in his choice of major, and never pushing more than he's felt comfortable with. It's been… nice.

"That's good. Bet you feel better for having told them too," Dustin says, grin knowing, and Shane smiles back with shared understanding.

"And how's things with… Catherine?" Cam hedges.

Of course Cam would remember that. For someone who professes to hate gossip, the Samurai tends to seek it out more often than anyone else Shane knows.

"Caroline," Shane corrects gently. "And we're not seeing each other any more."

"Ah sorry to hear that man."

"It's fine." It genuinely is; there's not even a hint of regret at the ending of something that had started casual and never even threatened to become more. It had been a tentative dip back into the world of dating, and Caroline had been a lovely, short-lived distraction that had left his heart intact. "It was amicable."

A flurry of commotion by the door catches his attention; another arrival being joyfully welcomed in by the newly-engaged couple and Shane's stomach turns over.

Hunter is unmistakable, a head taller than his brother and he effortlessly lifts Tori into a hug, her feet kicking at air. Shane can hear her laughter even above the crowd; Blake grinning at her side.

Shane knew Hunter would be here. It's his brother's engagement party after all; how could he not be? Accepting Tori's invitation meant he would have to be in the same room as his former lover, that much was obvious. But it was something he'd managed to avoid since his return. He isn't sure if it's been deliberate on the part of his friends or coincidence that they haven't been at the same events — but he hadn't asked and no one else had mentioned it. Mentioned Hunter, even in passing; the older Bradley ceasing to exist in his world until this evening.

Shane sinks against the wall, trying to bring his focus back onto Cam and Dustin, but their words are dissolving into white noise as his gaze strays back to Hunter. He watches the blond be greeted enthusiastically by Blake's friends, an appearance of friendship that goes beyond him just being their teammate's brother. And Hunter is… doing the same; moving from group to group of the Factory Blue guys with a broad smile, exchanging handshakes and backslaps with ease, clutching a bottle of beer bearing the same blue label as the one in Shane's hand.

But that's not what holds his attention. There's something else, that thing that Shane can't quite put his finger on, something about the blond's mannerisms, the way he carries himself. He seems… casual; a loose, easy way of moving that is unfamiliar to Shane. It's not that Hunter wasn't graceful before, back when they were together; years of ninja training ingraining a certain consciousness of movement and self-assuredness that Shane used to envy, but there's something different there now. Something… odd. Unfamiliar.

He's not wearing crimson.

Shane's brow furrows. Had he been wearing crimson when he'd visited Wayward Pines? The memory is hazy; unclear.

"Shane?"

He blinks at Cam, the Samurai frowning at him.

"I asked if you wanted to swing by the Academy this week? My father would love to see you…" he trails off, catching the source of Shane's distraction. His back straightens, voice firm as he says, "You are under no obligation to interact with him." Dustin turns suddenly-sad eyes on his partner and Cam shakes his head. "No, Dustin. We spoke, remember?"

The earth ninja lets out a sigh that is almost a huff, and that provides response enough Shane's unasked question about whether there had been a deliberateness on behalf of his friends in keeping the two of them apart.

Not coincidence.

"It's okay." His words are hollow, a warning tightness in his chest that has him moving. "I'm okay… I just- I'll be right back."

Ignoring the twin expressions of concern on his friends' faces, he forces his way through the throng; the bathroom door closing behind him deadening the sounds of the party to mere murmurs. He slides the bolt home and crosses the short distance to the basin, bracing himself against the counter and letting out a long exhale. Ten, nine, eight… His breath evens as he focuses on counting the seconds, on simply being.

Just a minute. That's all he needs. Just some time to himself, to remind himself to breathe. It's stupid; irrational. He's a grown man, dammit, and whatever Hunter and him had — whatever they used to be to each other — ended many years ago. He should be able to deal with being in the same room as him at the very least. So why the hell is it so hard?

Because you didn't deal with it then. Because you left…

A knock — loud and invasive — interrupts the relative quiet of the blue-tiled room, startling him from his contemplation of past faults. "One second," he calls back, splashing some cool water on his face. He catches his own gaze in the mirror; the man staring back is resolute, brown eyes steady, mouth set in a firm line. He can do this.

He squares his shoulders and leaves his little sanctum; one of Blake's teammates — he assumes, from the Factory Blue logo emblazoned on his t-shirt and snapback — barreling past as soon as he exits, slurred apology thrown out carelessly. With a shake of his head, Shane heads towards the main party, but, despite his surface promise of bravery, he hesitates at the threshold of the living room, struggling to see Cam and Dustin in the mess of people.

A low rumble cuts through the noise and has him turning; "Hey man, everything good?"

Blake is hovering nearby, concerned dark eyes and cheeks flushed — from the heat generated by so many bodies in such a small space or from the almost-empty beer clutched in his hand, Shane isn't sure.

"Yeah, I'm good." The smile Shane gives in return too big for his face, false and obvious. Blake's frown deepens and Shane swallows, saying quickly, "Congratulations, by the way. For finally asking. We've been taking bets but you really kept us guessing." The racer laughs, some of the worry draining from his posture, expression smoothing. "No, seriously though," Shane presses. "I'm really happy for you both. Kinda feels about time some of us got a win. If that makes sense?"

"I get it." Blake nods. "Thanks bro. That means a lot. And hey-" He claps Shane on the shoulder. "It's good to have you home. It's been a rough few years for everyone, y'know, so it's good to have us all together again. All moving forward. New beginnings and all that."

Shane snorts, the words spilling out before his brain gets a look in, "Sure. Don't know what's worse: living in a desert under constant threat of snipers, or dealing with your brother."

His tone is light, teasing, but even as the echoes are swallowed up by the background chatter, Shane can see a change in the other man.

The smile drops from Blake's face, body tensing, stiffening. It's not quite the blank mask his brother favours, but it has the same effect; ice crystallising in the air as Blake bites out, "I'm sorry you had such a shitty time while you were gone. But don't for one second think it was all peaches and cream for the people you left behind. Not for us and certainly not for Hunter."

The ex-marine takes a step back, away from the thunderclap of anger radiating from the younger man. Blake is practically bristling; his fury as sudden and unexpected as a hailstorm in June.

Shane opens his mouth, but any response dries up on his tongue as, if sensing all is not all is well with his brother, Hunter chooses that moment to sweep his gaze over to them. Their eyes lock; only for a second but it's enough for the air to leave Shane's lungs in a rush, a sucker punch to the chest, and his feet move of their own accord, every single nerve screaming at him at once to leave, get out, go, go, go-

It isn't until a car screeches past him that coherent thought returns and he finds himself in the street outside Blake and Tori's apartment block. Alone.

He reaches up to rub his face, but freezes midway; his hand trembling, unsteady in front of him.

Dammit.

"Fuck."

There's the soft tread of footsteps behind him and he whirls around to see Dustin approaching, hands held forward almost placatingly. "Dude, you okay?"

The brunette comes to a stop some distance away, an unusual cautiousness in his stance and a strangeness to his normal energy — calmness where there should be vibrancy. Shane can't help but recall a stinking alleyway, and hurt confusion in brown eyes. No, not just confused…

You scared him.

The edges of Shane's vision darken, close in; the air thick and a low buzzing echoing in his ears. But just as he's about to give in, to surrender to the panic, Dr. Rasheed's voice floats to him on the night air; calm words guiding him through one of the grounding techniques she had drilled into him during their sessions.

..."What can you see?"...

…orange glow of the streetlight pooling around the base of the lamp post;
… graffiti daubed on the shuttered front of a closed shop;
…a small huddle of people at the bus stop, waiting patiently;
…the neon sign of the bar down the street, red and blue flashing;
…Dustin, radiating worry-

..."What can you feel?"...

…clamminess to the night air brushing his skin;
…the crispness of the collar of his new shirt against the back of his neck;
…the ground firm beneath his feet, reassuringly solid;
…his heart pounding against his chest;

..."What can you hear?"...

…strains of music and laughter from the bar;
…rumble of a vehicle crossing the junction at the end of the road;
…the scuff of Dustin's shoe against the tarmac as he waits;

..."What can you smell?"...

…curried wisps of someone's dinner from the apartment block beside him;
…the cologne he'd put on earlier, suddenly citrusy and bright;

..."What can you taste?"...

…remnants of the non-alcoholic beer lingering on his tongue.

Letting out a deep, even breath, Shane focuses on the brunette, his smile shaky but real. "Sorry, man. I'm okay. Honestly. I just… I think going to call it a night."

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Dustin asks and then, as if he can already see Shane's hesitation — or predict his objections — he adds, "I know the Factory Blue crowd; that party's going to be going on for hours. Cam will survive without me for a little bit. And I can tell you aaaaall about the new students."

All the incidents Cam disapproves of; is what he means. Shane isn't sure if the stories are meant to encourage or discourage him from returning to the Academy, but the earth master is grinning at him, bright and hopeful and painful in its familiarity, sweeping away any thoughts of refusal.

Shane own smile broadens. "Yes, please."