Chapter 9

A fairly distasteful blend of human fear, fatigue, Alka Seltzer, too much Old Spice and not enough soap reached Henry's nose as he worked. Under that, not actually there but no less real to Henry, was the smell of popcorn and beer.

Quite aside from the way they actually smelled, people always carried a scent-memory for him. Henry's memory for Will was them kicking back together and watching reruns of British science fiction and just being two regular guys without a care in the world. Which wouldn't have been remotely significant if it hadn't been so shortly after he'd started to accept his own nature. Realizing that Will did, too, just felt nice.

"Hey, man," he greeted him without looking up from the monitor. "What are you still doing up?"

"Just finished up a session with Annie. Thought I'd come remind you that you're not Magnus."

"I'm not tired, Will," he answered shortly, punching keys a lot more aggressively than was necessary.

"You can't keep burning the candle at both ends like this, Henry."

"And I can't stop, either," he growled, suddenly able to see the temperature of the things in front of him. He closed his eyes and forced the change back down.

"Look at you, Henry," he sighed. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Watch me. Not like I see you sleeping much."

"I'm on my way to bed now," Will told him. "And I'm going to have to insist you do the same. This isn't healthy, Henry, and we need to stay healthy to stay useful. Come on, man."

Henry sighed and climbed warily to his feet. "You're really going to crash?"

"Drugs to make sure it happens and everything," Will agreed quietly, looking a little ashamed of the admission.

Not, Henry knew, because Will minded talking about his meds. He'd made it clear a long time ago that he was as reliant on Psych meds as Henry himself. No. Henry knew, because he shared the sentiment, that the shame came from having to admit that you couldn't make the situation right yet, that you needed to rest for hours in which time things could get even worse than they already were.

"Be good for you," Henry told Will, resisting the urge to tell him to shower before turning in. He was pretty sure he reeked even worse than Will right now because, damn it, bathing was nice and all but it was also a waste of time they didn't have.

"Be good for us both," Will answered with a sigh. "You have everything you need to get to sleep?"

"I'm covered, man."

"Okay. Don't exceed the max dosages and let me know if you need anything."

"Ditto, Will," Henry told him firmly. "I know you don't always--"

"I'm good," he interrupted. "I talked about it earlier tonight. Now I just need a few hours of oblivion."

"Okay, but the offer stands."

The shrink's answering smile was almost heart-breaking, like he just wasn't used to such offers.

"I appreciate it. Night, Henry."

"Night, Will."

0101010

Christy Harrison was, Joe had to admit, the kind of girl a person could get scared of easily. Lots of rather prominent and very sharp teeth, claws that put Steve's to shame, and body hair that resembled nothing so much as Cousin Itt with a bad perm. But, to listen to her parents, she didn't have it in her to hurt a fly. Joe could easily believe that given some of the people he'd met since becoming aware of the Sanctuary.

Besides, she was only a kid. At present a kid in traction pumped full of more dilaudid than Joe had been given the time he got shot. Her parents were beside themselves even though, aside from the damage to her legs, Magnus had assured them Christy would be just fine. They had spent the last several days alternating between sitting vigil with their daughter and going out into the field to help other abnormals get themselves safely into hiding.

Her mother, a regular human as far as Joe could tell, had explained that the Sanctuary had had this contingency in place since the beginning, modeled after the Underground Railroad of days gone by. She had explained to Joe in a low, broken voice that it was safer for everyone if no one knew too much about the others. She and her husband, an abnormal like Christy, had been taking turns shuttling individuals and families from one Safe House to the next in the line before handing them off to the next contact in the progression.

Promising to sit up with Christy in case she woke up, Joe had finally talked both of her parents into getting some sleep. He was sitting at the foot of her bed, reviewing Will's reports on the attacks when she gave a soft, confused-sounding moan.

"Christy, honey? You awake?" he murmured.

"Unfortunately," she moaned. "My legs hurt."

Joe set aside his files, climbing to his feet and retrieving the self-delivery button, pressing it into her hand. "Start with hitting the button once," he directed gently. "If you need more, you can hit the button again. Do you need a doctor?"

She shook her head, depressing the button. Even through the mass of curly fur, he could see her body starting to relax almost at once.

"Better?"

"Little," she agreed.

"You can take more if you want to. It's set up so you can't give yourself too much."

She hit the button again, then let her hand relax around the button. The little sigh she let out a moment later reminded Joe of nothing so much as a contented puppy. Which was probably not a comparison anyone here would have appreciated him making so he kept it to himself.

"What's your name?" she asked drowsily.

"Joe."

"You said you're not a doctor? What do you do here?"

"I don't, not usually. I'm a cop; I'm investigating the attack against you. I had some work to do and your parents were exhausted so I told them I'd sit up with you. Would you like me to get your father?"

She shook her head. "Let Pop sleep. Where's Mom?"

"She out helping with the--" Reluctant to use the phrase 'war effort', he amended, "She's out helping some people."

The girl was silent and, for a minute, Joe was sure she'd fallen back to sleep. Then she murmured, "It's started, hasn't it?"

"What's started?" he asked, frowning.

"The Race War."

Joe stared. "It's a little premature to assume it's going to go down that way. The majority of the general public still doesn't know about the abnormals."

"You said you're a cop. Someone knows about us if you're here because one of us was attacked."

"A few people know but not many. My boss' son is an abnormal so she takes an interest in the Sanctuary."

"Kevie," she answered, nodding faintly. "Sweet kid. Miss Amanda sometimes has me babysit him. Pop thinks I'm too young but Mom says it's good for me to learn responsibility, too."

"I think your mom has a point. Now why don't you try to rest?"

"Joe? If Doctor Helen thinks it's time to get people underground, there were people attacked other than me, weren't there?"

"A couple, yeah. But the Commissioner and I have that under control."

"The guy who attacked me," she began.

"Try not to think about it, honey," Joe urged. "Unless you need to talk about it? I can go get Will for you?"

"No. I don't want Will." She shook her head, hitting the button for another dose of painkillers. "What'll happen to him?"

Joe exhaled deeply. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I haven't been around long enough to know how the Sanctuary handles these kinds of things."

"They don't. They just hope they go away." She sighed. "It was a Hate Crime and no one's going to do anything to make things right."

"We're going to take good care of you," he promised. "I mean, I know it's not much, but…"

"I understand," she answered. "Can you get my pop now?"

"You've got it, honey. I'll be right back with him."

"Thanks, Joe."

"No problem. Hang tight. Call if you need me," he directed, leaving the room for the main infirmary and heading to the room where her father was. "Ray," he breathed, grasping the sleeping man's furry shoulder.

He mumbled in his sleep, rolling away from Joe.

"Christy's asking for you."

Ray groaned and hauled himself into a sitting position, reaching under the fringe of hair covering most of his face to rub his eyes.

"Is she okay? Hurting?"

"It's not that. She gave herself some pain meds. But she's also got a lot of questions about what's going on and what it all means. I offered to get Will but she said not to."

"He's a nice kid, but he's not one of us, either."

"Because he's human?" he asked, frowning. "Christy's mother is human, too."

"This isn't his world yet," he began. His head shot up. "He's arguing with someone."

"What?" Joe frowned. No one had mentioned that Ray and Christy were psychics. Then he heard a pair of distant voices approaching.

"…not negotiable, Druitt!" Will was declaring emphatically.

"Damn it, William, those monsters have my daughter!"

"They're monsters but that doesn't mean we get to be monsters, too!" the psychiatrist snapped, voice raising.

Joe shook his head. "You go see your daughter, Ray. I'll go remind those two that there are people trying to sleep down here."