BDP57
*
There was no privacy to be had in the lab, so Nottingham and Mobius made their way to the obstacle course. To anyone who thought to check, it would look like they were simply exercising. That both were in good enough shape to run the course and carry on an intelligent conversation would hopefully never enter their minds.
As they were climbing the first wall, Moby glanced over at Ian, who was being oddly silent for someone who wanted to talk and said, "Spit it out."
"Will you ever be able to trust yourself again, after what happened?" Nottingham asked bleakly, continuing up the rope without looking over at Mobius.
"Yes I will. I already do, although I can see that you do not. Why is that? Of us all, you alone have shown restraint."
"Was I restrained when I attacked Beck? I didn't even know what I was doing, but he would have been dead just the same if you and the other Dragons had not intervened. What if the next time it isn't someone who can defend against me until help arrives or I am overcome? " Ian reached the top of the wall and dropped over the other side.
Mobius froze at the top of the wooden palisade for a moment, and then dropped over the other side. Several things clicked into place for him at once. The looks between Nottingham and Burke, the seemingly obscure comments overheard while waiting for orders from Casca, the faint shadows of bruises behind makeup, the recent distance between two who had been inseparable, and the nightmares that brought his bunkmate shivering awake with the name 'Moira' on his lips.
Two heavy strides brought him even with Nottingham. Giving no warning, he punched the dirty bastard in the right kidney. Ian dropped but recovered quickly, rolling away from his adversary. He gained his feet and braced for the next attack, although he could not imagine what had caused Moby to strike him. He looked at his brother, the question clear in his eyes, "What have I done to offend?"
"You son-of-a-bitch. You attacked the only person who's been willing to tell us the truth, and to help us when she can." Mobius used his greater reach to advantage, managing to get inside Nottingham's defense and punch him in the face.
Ian reeled back, as much from the words as the blow. Moby thought he had attacked Moira? Has she said as much to him? No, that was not her way. Perhaps he let something slip while dreaming? His nightmares had been so vivid. They were not truth only fear, but one who had no way to know the difference could very easily mistake one for the other.
Nottingham opened his mouth to speak, feeling the soreness of his jaw. He had to make Mobius understand the truth. "I would never deliberately hurt Moira."
"I have never deliberately hurt a woman either, but I have hurt one. At least it happened to a woman who had never been my friend. The Doc trusted you, and you abused that trust, didn't you?" Mobius punctuated his question with another blow, which Ian blocked.
Nottingham was so stunned by the accusation that his body reacted to the threat automatically, following the parry with a strike to the exposed nerve cluster in Moby's armpit. The arm flopped at the big man's side, useless until feeling returned. Ian hoped it would slow his brother down; he didn't want to fight him. He moved to put some distance between them saying, "I don't know what are you talking about."
"I suppose those weren't bruises? Oh wait, let me guess, her curling iron slipped and burned her. Then she slammed her wrists in a car door, right? My, my, how clumsy of her." Mobius shook his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, that." Ian felt the trap closing on him. How could he explain without telling the whole truth? Nottingham knew that he was a terrible liar. It just wasn't in him to be dishonest. His best option under normal circumstances was to remain silent. That didn't seem to be a good choice this time though. Moby would take his silence for guilt.
"Yes that. It looked suspiciously like some of the same marks the women with us got. All of them needed, and received, medical attention the same day. Tell me, has anyone examined Moira, or is she still suffering her injuries untreated?" Mobius rubbed his arm, trying to force feeling back into it. Unwilling to continue a physical confrontation until he could use his arm again, he contented himself with a verbal assault.
The embers of guilt and self-doubt that had been smoldering inside him all week were fanned by Mobius' angry words. Ian had seen the marks without the muting effect of makeup, and it had looked bad. He had chosen to believe Moira when she claimed it looked worse than it was, but even at the time he had been afraid she was just reassuring him.
What if she had been? What if Moira had been damaged internally? Would she know just how hurt she was? Being a doctor did not make you any better able to self diagnose something like that than your average layman, but she might think it did. Moira could be bleeding internally; they had heard that a few of the other women had been. Nottingham looked up at Mobius with eyes filled with horror.
"I'll take that as a 'no'." Moby growled. Both hands flexed, the only warning Ian had, and the two were grappling. With his superior strength and mass, Mobius had clear advantage. Muscles flexed as the two struggled, locked together.
Moby shifted his weight slightly, freeing up his front leg. He aimed his kick at Ian's groin, angry enough over his offense that he didn't care if it was considered a low blow. In fact, to his mind, it was an appropriate retaliation.
Ian shifted his stance, tucking his pelvis and twisting slightly, so that he took the blow on his thigh. Mobius dropped forward into him, using the momentum of the kick to get inside Nottingham's reach. He followed up with an elbow to the temple that Ian barely blocked.
Nottingham did not, however, stop the rabbit punch to his ribs. Because of the angle, it was painful but not debilitating. A deep breath told Ian that they were not broken, but he could not tell if they were cracked. He would take a lot less damage if he went on the offensive, but somehow Ian couldn't do it.
What if he lost control again? Nottingham would never forgive himself if he killed the first friend he'd ever had. It didn't matter that what happened wasn't as reprehensible as Moby seemed to think; the truth was bad enough. Nottingham deserved his brother's censure. He didn't even try to dodge as Moby threw his entire body into his, sending them to the packed earth of the field.
They hit the ground so hard it shook. Air was driven out of both sets of lungs. For a moment the two combatants lay frozen, trying to remember how to breathe. In that instant of stillness, their eyes met. Moby could see that Nottingham's heart wasn't in this fight. It was almost like he was taking the beating as his penance.
This silent acceptance wasn't what Mobius had expected. He had wanted to beat some remorse into him, and some answers out. Well, if the key weren't physical, he'd try an emotional approach. Moby's gravelly voice spilled into the small space that separated the two men, "Rape is hardly a fitting reward for the way Burke has done her best for us."
That widened those amber eyes, jolted his brother out of his quiet. "Is that what you think I did?"
"After the bruises, the strained silence between the two of you these days, and the nightmares you've been having? What else am I to think?" Mobius tightened his grip as Ian shifted under him; there was no way he was letting Nottingham up when he was this close to getting answers.
"It was consensual, of that I can assure you. Moira has her own way of defending herself, and it's far more lethal than you might expect." Ian remembered the chemical weapons scattered throughout the apartment. He didn't doubt for a moment that she had more of the same around her person and the lab.
"Consensual in the beginning, but then you lost control like we did, didn't you? Except. it had to have happened before. The Doc was wearing a turtleneck under her uniform, but you could see the shadows if you looked, and as stiff as she was moving, I looked. Why didn't you warn us, you prick?" Mobius asked harshly, his eyes filled with betrayal.
"Because what happened between us was different. The bruising at her throat was some primal territory-marking thing. I was having a hard time controlling my jealousy, as you have reason to know. I tried to kill Beck for touching her. In my dubious state of mind, it seemed like a good idea to make sure every other male knew she was claimed. Moira enjoyed my attentions at the time, but when she saw the mark later, she was very cross." Ian gave Moby a rueful smile.
"Turned out to be a not-so-good idea, huh?"
"That, my friend, is an understatement." Ian looked aggrieved.
"What about the other bruises? Why did you look so afraid at the idea that Moira might be bleeding internally?" Moby kept his voice level with effort. He was struggling with the urge to smack Nottingham again, just to make sure he had his complete attention.
"Moira said it was her skin tone, that she showed every little thing, and it always looked worse than it was. I wasn't sure that was the case, but she said she had some of the same marks when we had sex the first time, and we hadn't started the treatments back then so." Ian belatedly clamped his mouth shut in horror. This was why he hated to say anything when he was in trouble. He invariably said something that made it worse.
Mobius looked at his brother in shock. For several moments he was struck silent. "What? When?" was all he could manage to say, but his tone conveyed a Shakespearian soliloquy of questions.
*
There was no privacy to be had in the lab, so Nottingham and Mobius made their way to the obstacle course. To anyone who thought to check, it would look like they were simply exercising. That both were in good enough shape to run the course and carry on an intelligent conversation would hopefully never enter their minds.
As they were climbing the first wall, Moby glanced over at Ian, who was being oddly silent for someone who wanted to talk and said, "Spit it out."
"Will you ever be able to trust yourself again, after what happened?" Nottingham asked bleakly, continuing up the rope without looking over at Mobius.
"Yes I will. I already do, although I can see that you do not. Why is that? Of us all, you alone have shown restraint."
"Was I restrained when I attacked Beck? I didn't even know what I was doing, but he would have been dead just the same if you and the other Dragons had not intervened. What if the next time it isn't someone who can defend against me until help arrives or I am overcome? " Ian reached the top of the wall and dropped over the other side.
Mobius froze at the top of the wooden palisade for a moment, and then dropped over the other side. Several things clicked into place for him at once. The looks between Nottingham and Burke, the seemingly obscure comments overheard while waiting for orders from Casca, the faint shadows of bruises behind makeup, the recent distance between two who had been inseparable, and the nightmares that brought his bunkmate shivering awake with the name 'Moira' on his lips.
Two heavy strides brought him even with Nottingham. Giving no warning, he punched the dirty bastard in the right kidney. Ian dropped but recovered quickly, rolling away from his adversary. He gained his feet and braced for the next attack, although he could not imagine what had caused Moby to strike him. He looked at his brother, the question clear in his eyes, "What have I done to offend?"
"You son-of-a-bitch. You attacked the only person who's been willing to tell us the truth, and to help us when she can." Mobius used his greater reach to advantage, managing to get inside Nottingham's defense and punch him in the face.
Ian reeled back, as much from the words as the blow. Moby thought he had attacked Moira? Has she said as much to him? No, that was not her way. Perhaps he let something slip while dreaming? His nightmares had been so vivid. They were not truth only fear, but one who had no way to know the difference could very easily mistake one for the other.
Nottingham opened his mouth to speak, feeling the soreness of his jaw. He had to make Mobius understand the truth. "I would never deliberately hurt Moira."
"I have never deliberately hurt a woman either, but I have hurt one. At least it happened to a woman who had never been my friend. The Doc trusted you, and you abused that trust, didn't you?" Mobius punctuated his question with another blow, which Ian blocked.
Nottingham was so stunned by the accusation that his body reacted to the threat automatically, following the parry with a strike to the exposed nerve cluster in Moby's armpit. The arm flopped at the big man's side, useless until feeling returned. Ian hoped it would slow his brother down; he didn't want to fight him. He moved to put some distance between them saying, "I don't know what are you talking about."
"I suppose those weren't bruises? Oh wait, let me guess, her curling iron slipped and burned her. Then she slammed her wrists in a car door, right? My, my, how clumsy of her." Mobius shook his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, that." Ian felt the trap closing on him. How could he explain without telling the whole truth? Nottingham knew that he was a terrible liar. It just wasn't in him to be dishonest. His best option under normal circumstances was to remain silent. That didn't seem to be a good choice this time though. Moby would take his silence for guilt.
"Yes that. It looked suspiciously like some of the same marks the women with us got. All of them needed, and received, medical attention the same day. Tell me, has anyone examined Moira, or is she still suffering her injuries untreated?" Mobius rubbed his arm, trying to force feeling back into it. Unwilling to continue a physical confrontation until he could use his arm again, he contented himself with a verbal assault.
The embers of guilt and self-doubt that had been smoldering inside him all week were fanned by Mobius' angry words. Ian had seen the marks without the muting effect of makeup, and it had looked bad. He had chosen to believe Moira when she claimed it looked worse than it was, but even at the time he had been afraid she was just reassuring him.
What if she had been? What if Moira had been damaged internally? Would she know just how hurt she was? Being a doctor did not make you any better able to self diagnose something like that than your average layman, but she might think it did. Moira could be bleeding internally; they had heard that a few of the other women had been. Nottingham looked up at Mobius with eyes filled with horror.
"I'll take that as a 'no'." Moby growled. Both hands flexed, the only warning Ian had, and the two were grappling. With his superior strength and mass, Mobius had clear advantage. Muscles flexed as the two struggled, locked together.
Moby shifted his weight slightly, freeing up his front leg. He aimed his kick at Ian's groin, angry enough over his offense that he didn't care if it was considered a low blow. In fact, to his mind, it was an appropriate retaliation.
Ian shifted his stance, tucking his pelvis and twisting slightly, so that he took the blow on his thigh. Mobius dropped forward into him, using the momentum of the kick to get inside Nottingham's reach. He followed up with an elbow to the temple that Ian barely blocked.
Nottingham did not, however, stop the rabbit punch to his ribs. Because of the angle, it was painful but not debilitating. A deep breath told Ian that they were not broken, but he could not tell if they were cracked. He would take a lot less damage if he went on the offensive, but somehow Ian couldn't do it.
What if he lost control again? Nottingham would never forgive himself if he killed the first friend he'd ever had. It didn't matter that what happened wasn't as reprehensible as Moby seemed to think; the truth was bad enough. Nottingham deserved his brother's censure. He didn't even try to dodge as Moby threw his entire body into his, sending them to the packed earth of the field.
They hit the ground so hard it shook. Air was driven out of both sets of lungs. For a moment the two combatants lay frozen, trying to remember how to breathe. In that instant of stillness, their eyes met. Moby could see that Nottingham's heart wasn't in this fight. It was almost like he was taking the beating as his penance.
This silent acceptance wasn't what Mobius had expected. He had wanted to beat some remorse into him, and some answers out. Well, if the key weren't physical, he'd try an emotional approach. Moby's gravelly voice spilled into the small space that separated the two men, "Rape is hardly a fitting reward for the way Burke has done her best for us."
That widened those amber eyes, jolted his brother out of his quiet. "Is that what you think I did?"
"After the bruises, the strained silence between the two of you these days, and the nightmares you've been having? What else am I to think?" Mobius tightened his grip as Ian shifted under him; there was no way he was letting Nottingham up when he was this close to getting answers.
"It was consensual, of that I can assure you. Moira has her own way of defending herself, and it's far more lethal than you might expect." Ian remembered the chemical weapons scattered throughout the apartment. He didn't doubt for a moment that she had more of the same around her person and the lab.
"Consensual in the beginning, but then you lost control like we did, didn't you? Except. it had to have happened before. The Doc was wearing a turtleneck under her uniform, but you could see the shadows if you looked, and as stiff as she was moving, I looked. Why didn't you warn us, you prick?" Mobius asked harshly, his eyes filled with betrayal.
"Because what happened between us was different. The bruising at her throat was some primal territory-marking thing. I was having a hard time controlling my jealousy, as you have reason to know. I tried to kill Beck for touching her. In my dubious state of mind, it seemed like a good idea to make sure every other male knew she was claimed. Moira enjoyed my attentions at the time, but when she saw the mark later, she was very cross." Ian gave Moby a rueful smile.
"Turned out to be a not-so-good idea, huh?"
"That, my friend, is an understatement." Ian looked aggrieved.
"What about the other bruises? Why did you look so afraid at the idea that Moira might be bleeding internally?" Moby kept his voice level with effort. He was struggling with the urge to smack Nottingham again, just to make sure he had his complete attention.
"Moira said it was her skin tone, that she showed every little thing, and it always looked worse than it was. I wasn't sure that was the case, but she said she had some of the same marks when we had sex the first time, and we hadn't started the treatments back then so." Ian belatedly clamped his mouth shut in horror. This was why he hated to say anything when he was in trouble. He invariably said something that made it worse.
Mobius looked at his brother in shock. For several moments he was struck silent. "What? When?" was all he could manage to say, but his tone conveyed a Shakespearian soliloquy of questions.