They rolled up to Sanctuary after a day and a half of travel. They were long Pandoran days, with endless stretches of parched sunlight and even longer nights, but they'd driven right through, not stopping to rest. Brick drove right up to gates and pulled to truck to a stop. He half expected to be turned away - they were still wearing tattered Hyperion jumpsuits - but the guard on duty recognized Brick at once.
"Well, I'll be dog! I cain't believe it," Bool exclaimed. He wore the standard uniform for the Crimson Raiders, salvaged Lance armor and a red beret. The armor might have been his from when he served with Atlas. He didn't have his helmet on, and a grin stretched across his face. His cataracts glistened, milky gray in the sunlight. "Brick! We all thought you were dead."
"What about me?" Tina asked, pushing past Rocko. "Did everyone miss me?"
Bool frowned, bushy brows furrowed. "Hm, nope. Don't think so..." When Tina's grin fell, the guard guffawed, a mad, whooping wheeze of a laugh. "Jes' kidding. Roland was so tore up about you, I reckon he'll cry when he sees you again."
"Ick."
"Who's this, now?" Bool said, nodding to Rocko.
"I'm Rocko. I, ah...was in the same prison as Brick and Tina."
"Ex-bandit, I'd guess," Bool grinned, holding out his hand. Rocko shook it.
"Yeah. Wasn't much of a choice, after Dahl pulled out. Not a lot of honest work on this planet," Rocko said. It was only half a lie.
"Dahl man, eh? I was a foreman for Dahl, way back. An' a bandit, too, so you'll get no guff from. I jes' remembered. Brick. Best get your ass to Moxxi's and see your boy. I been trying to look out for him, but...well, son, he took your death hard."
"My boy?" Brick asked, a pit opening in his stomach.
"Mordecai."
Brick swallowed and didn't look at Rocko. "Thanks for tellin me. I'll do that."
"Alright, I'll stop flappin my jaw and let you in. We'll catch up after Roland's got you settled," Bool said, and lowered the gate. It banged open with a deep ka-thunk, and Brick drove them up to a large open building, marked by a neon sign that proclaimed it was Scooter's garage. They parked in the shade.
The three of them clambered out of the car, groaning and stretching.
"Hey, Queen. You ever been to Sanctuary before?" Tina asked.
"Nah. City like this is too civilized for someone like me."
"Aw, don't worry. They let in a slob like Big, didn't they? I used to live here with my mom and dad, before...Hey! I'll give you the tour!"
"Am I invited?" Brick asked.
Tina wrinkled her nose. "No way. Rocko's a classy lady. If you tag along, he'll never let me get past first base. Anyway, didn't Bool tell you to go see Mordy?"
"Yeah, but that can wait." Brick said. He appreciated what Tina was trying to do, but he wasn't going to slink off while Rocko wandered around an unfamiliar city, even if Tina was with him.
"Go on," Rocko said, putting a hand on Brick's shoulder. This time, Brick finally did look into his eyes: one of the rare times he'd been able to since Kindle's death. "I'll be fine," he promised.
Brick smiled. Excitement cramped his gut, unbidden and unexpected, at the prospect of seeing Mordecai again. "Thanks, babe. I'll meet you guys soon."
They kissed - just a light, chaste smack on the lips, but Tina still feigned a retch - and Brick departed for Moxxi's bar. It was one of the few locations he remembered from his infrequent visits to Sanctuary. He rounded a corner, then another, feeling like he was being pulled by an invisible force, up a low rise of stairs, faster and faster, until he was nearly running. The neon sign, Moxxxi's, blinked in time with his pounding heart.
He stepped through the open doorway, squinting to make out the dim interior. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the ancient one-armed bandit slot machines against the left wall, currently unmanned. Booths lined the opposite wall. A few seasoned alcoholics huddled there to drink, but none of them were very talkative. It was, after all, barely past noon.
Only one person sat at the bar. His back was turned, and Brick could only see the man's slender, slouched frame, his narrow ass perched all the way forward on the stool. With his head bowed, Mordecai's dreads stuck up like the crest of a bird. An actual bird perched on his shoulder, roosting in the folds of his long red scarf. It was the first time Brick could remember being so happy to see Bloodwing.
Although he'd practically flown all the way to the bar, Brick found that he couldn't move from the doorway. He couldn't even speak.
Moxxi looked up from the glass she was cleaning and locked eyes with him. She grinned, shook Mordecai's shoulder and pointed to the doorway where Brick stood, saying something that he couldn't hear over the clanging catcalls of the slot machines. Mordecai turned around, beer still clutched in his hand, looking at Brick from behind his opaque goggles. He glanced down at his beer, then turned back to Moxxi.
She made an exasperated gesture and took the bottle from him. She pointed at Brick again. Loud enough to hear, she said, "Go on. I see him too."
Mordecai clumsily dismounted the stool and staggered over to Brick. The stench of booze came off him in waves. He reached Brick and stopped, looking straight forward instead of up at the taller man's face, his mouth set in a grim line. He stuck out his hand awkwardly.
"Hey," Brick finally managed. "What, uh...whaddya want?"
"'m tryin to shake your hand," Mordecai said, his words slurred nearly past coherence, but Brick had heard him drunk often enough to understand. He took the offered hand and shook it, but Mordecai didn't let go after. He squeezed tightly, staring down at their clasped palms like he still couldn't believe it.
"I was captured. Hyperion took over the old Lockdown Palace, I guess, 'cos that's where they put me, and I-"
"We have to go to my apartment," Mordecai interrupted.
"Huh? Why?"
"I got something for you."
Brick frowned. Mordecai still held him, clenching so hard that it made the rods in the back of his hand ache. "I dunno. I wasn't the only one who broke out. Tina, and, uh, another guy. They're probly waiting for me, and I ain't seen everyone else yet-"
"Oh, come on," Mordecai said. He finally looked up at Brick. His eyes remained hidden behind his goggles, but he grinned, and Brick's heart skipped a beat to see it. "Play hooky with me. I'll tell Roland it was my fault if he tries to be a little pissbaby."
Brick snorted. "I thought you and Roland were besties." He thought Mordecai might be mad, but the other man only grinned wider.
"You hold a grudge like a woman. Seriously, stop bitching and come with me. You know you're gonna."
Brick resigned with a shrug. Mordecai dragged him out the door, not once letting go of his hand, and led him upstairs to a nearby apartment. He fumbled a key out of his pocket, nearly dropped it, and jammed it into the lock with trembling fingers. Bloodwing regarded Brick cooly from her roost on Mordecai's shoulder. She'd never liked sharing her master, and she hadn't changed her mind.
After a good amount of cursing and jiggling, Mordecai managed to unlock the door and drag Brick into the dark, pleasantly cool apartment. Empty bottles clanked around their feet.
"You been drinkin too much," Brick said. It was a statement, not a question, but Mordecai shook his head.
"Nah. I just don't clean."
That was true, but Brick knew it was more than that. He could tell by the way his friend had staggered across the bar, breath stinking like a brewery, while the sun was barely halfway across the sky.
Mordecai shut the door, and Bloodwing flapped away to roost on the couch's slumped back. The blinds were flung open in the apartment's dinky living room and even dinkier kitchen, but he didn't bother to draw them before he launched himself at Brick, arms sweeping up to wrap around the taller man's shoulders, their mouths crushing together - more of an assault than a kiss - and Brick pressed back against his friend's chapped lips.
Like he might have guessed, Mordecai's mouth tasted like the beer he'd been drinking, acrid and dry, but it didn't matter. Their kiss was a surprisingly bestial pleasure, like scratching a deep itch. Brick's arms remembered instinctively how to hold Mordecai's skinny body.
When they parted, Brick smiled dreamily. "Issat what you wanted to give me?"
"Uh..." Mordecai said, sounding distracted. "No. It's...fuck. I missed you, you bastard. Why'd it take you so long? Why'd you have to make me think..." He looked away.
"Sorry."
Mordecai didn't reply. Brick reached up to cup his friend's face with both hands and pushed his goggles up with his thumbs. When Mordecai realized what he was doing, he tried to shove him back, but Brick wouldn't be budged. When Mordecai's goggles slipped up to his forehead, tears tumbled free down his cheeks, leaving dark streaks in their wake.
"Damnit, get offa me! Why don't you get out of here? This isn't real. I'm gonna wake up, and you'll still be dead, so don't draw it out."
"I ain't dead, Mordy. I swear. I tried to tell you. I got captured."
Mordecai looked up at him. "You're really here?"
"Really." Brick pushed the goggles the rest of the way up over Mordecai's head and tossed them aside, reached back to unknot the bandanna and unwind the hairband to free the other man's dreads. His hair fell loose around his shoulders.
"Fuck, though. Now I feel like an asshole," Mordecai said, swatting Brick away. He wiped his eyes with the back of one gaunt wrist.
"Why?"
"Because I'm crying like a baby shitting peach pits."
Brick laughed. "Like what?"
"It's something Bool says. His weird expressions stick with me. Hey, I gotta give you something, okay?"
"Kay. But I wanna give you something first."
Mordecai's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously, like he expected Brick to fart in his hand or something.
But Brick grabbed the shorter man's beard where it was thickest and pulled him into another kiss, ignoring his startled yelp. "Bedroom," he growled.
"Uh..."
Mordecai hesitated, probably remembering all the old deals they'd made with themselves: No kissing, no stripping together at home, no names during sex, no doing it with the lights on, and no declarations of love. They'd managed to break nearly all of them already. "Okay. Come on," he said at last. He led Brick through a doorway, picking their way through the litter of bottles on the ground.
"Siddown," Brick demanded, pushing Mordecai toward to bed.
He obeyed, perching awkwardly on the edge of the mattress. The skin around his eyes was paler where his goggles usually sat, and Brick detected the faint blush there before it crept across the rest of his face.
"What're ya doing? We can't just...you know..."
Brick ignored his halfhearted protests and sunk to his knees, tugging and twisting Mordecai's belt open and pulling down his zipper, then struggled his pants all the way off before he could react.
"Hey!" he squawked, pulling his knees together and slouching defensively. "Geez. Warn a guy."
"What're you scared of? We used to do this all the time."
"Not in the light," Mordecai said, citing one of the few rules they hadn't broken.
Brick scoffed. "First time for everything."
Mordecai didn't argue. Brick wasn't sure why he had to do this, but dumb canid instinct drove him, an urge to ease pain with snuffling kisses and blunt physically. He looked up at Mordecai, studying him by the sunlight that filtered through the window. The curved lines around his mouth and eyes had deepened since Brick last saw him, and he looked vulnerable this way, legs naked and shivering, knees pressed together. The sight filled Brick with a queer tenderness. He committed the image to memory, to take out and mull over when he needed it.
He pressed his lips to the brown blade of one knee, then the other. Mordecai allowed him to push his legs apart, and Brick smooched a trail of pushy, slobbery kisses up his inner thighs. Mordecai shivered, skin rippled by gooseflesh under the flat of Brick's tongue. The larger man's hands roved over his outer thighs, hips and ass, to squeeze and knead, appreciating the muscles that flexed under his palms. How skinny and birdlike Mordecai felt compared to Rocko; how angular and awkward, his butt small enough to fit completely in both of Brick's palms.
But Brick's cock was painfully hard in his pants, drooling a wet spot against the fabric. He pressed his lips to the innermost part of Mordecai's thigh.
"Stop teasin," Mordecai mumbled, rubbing a shaky hand across his bearded jaw.
Brick snorted and planted a nip against that sensitive place, then replaced it with a lingering, suckling kiss that made Mordecai gasp, and, when he'd recovered his faculties, flick Brick in the ear.
"Okay, okay," Brick said, grinning into the crook of Mordecai's groin. "Thought you'd be more grateful."
"Well, that depends on how you do," Mordecai cheeked, earning a slightly harder bite from the brute who nuzzled between his legs.
But Brick did stop teasing, and finally put his mouth where Mordecai wanted it. While he went down on his friend, he considered his smell: sour sweat, stale beer and smoke, and the underlying 'Mordecai' smell of him, indescribable, as unique as a thumbprint. That smell drove him wild, drove him to rock on his heels and thrust the tented crotch of his pants against his own wrist, humping like a dog, panting around Mordecai's cock.
What his technique lacked in polish, he made up for with enthusiasm, swallowing Mordecai's length to the hilt again and again, deep enough to make his nose run and bring tears to his eyes. He probably looked like a mess, but he wasn't thinking about that. Brick thought about nothing, lost in the sensation of flesh slicking in and out of his mouth.
"Please..." Mordecai groaned, hands braced against Brick's shoulders. "Oh, fuck. Hijole, Brick..!"
That name, that broken rule - which Mordecai had created and was the most frequent violator of - was too much for Brick, and his mind glassed over as he came, spurting against the taut fabric of his pants like a teenager after too much fumbling and kissing.
He voiced his orgasm with a low groan muffled around Mordecai's cock. He didn't seem to notice, small favors, so Brick continued to blow him until he came, too, a couple minutes later and without warning.
With his mind cleared by rubbing out against his wrist, Brick considered, as Mordecai came down his throat, that the lack of warning was no accident. Mordecai wanted to claim him. With that last hard rut and spurt, he sent a message- you're mine, alive and here and mine...
Brick swallowed. He didn't get up, but instead laid his flushed face against Mordecai's thigh. Eyes closed, tears drying on his cheeks, he listened to his friend's ragged gasps grow quieter as he caught his breath. Mordecai leaned over him, fingers tracing lazy circles over Brick's back and neck.
"'ey...you 'member when we first met? On the bus?" Mordecai said, in a sleepy mumble which even Brick barely understood.
"Yeah?"
"Did I ever tell you...Nah. N'ver mind."
"What? You gotta tell me now."
"Just, what I thought when I first saw you."
"You told me. You thought I looked dumb. Like a...what was it? Idiota? Somethin."
Mordecai loosed a low, boozy chuckle. "Yeah. That too. But I also thought you were so fucking hot. Muscles, scars-"
"Come on, you're full of shit," Brick said, chuckling too. "You don't hafta butter me up. I already blew ya."
Mordecai growled. "Why would I lie? Take the damn compliment!"
"I thought you were straight, though."
"I never said that. I mean, I'd never been with a guy. I tried, couple a' times, but I was no good at picking up the signals. Got my goggles broke one time and my nose broke another, and I stopped trying. If you couldn't guess, I go after a certain kind of guy." Brick's arms were wrapped around Mordecai's waist, and the smaller man reached down to squeeze his bicep for emphasis.
"How come you never said anything?"
"Are you even listening, amigo? You could'a ripped my head off, easy. I wasn't gonna risk it. I'm surprised you didn't notice me staring at you on the bus. The goggles are good for hiding that, though."
"So that's what the goggles are for? Checkin out dudes?"
"Oh, shaddup, Baboso. Don't be an asshole. You think its easy for me to say this stuff?"
"Sorry." Brick didn't know why Mordecai was telling him any of this, but he listened without interruption as he continued, adding only the punctuation of soft, lazy kisses against Mordecai's belly and hips.
"When we got of the bus, I thought I was never gonna see you again. But then those bandits attacked Fyrestone. It was like..." Mordecai paused. "Like a miracle. Well, that's a shitty thing to say, but that's how it felt. All four of us were there, but you killed at least half the raiders with that rusty piece of shit shotty. Holy shit. Watching you fight...beautiful." He snorted. "'m glad I'm piss drunk, or this'd be embarrassing."
"I like it."
"Well, sure, I'm kissing your ass. Anyway, we stayed with Doc Zed, an' we were all up half the night drinking and talking. Remember? I tried to drink my mind offa you. But when you went out back to take a piss, I followed. I was thinking...well, I wasn't really thinking." Mordecai paused to clear his throat. "I was, uh...gonna try to jerk you off."
Brick blinked. "What?"
"I was drunk, okay! And I couldn't stop thinking about coming up behind you while your fly was down, and, shit, I don't know. It wasn't a good plan."
"Why'd you change your mind?" Brick asked. He probably would have let Mordecai do it. Even though his fucked up childhood had made him wary of what his momma referred to as 'going down to the Garden', he was still a guy, still had urges, and he'd sized up Mordecai briefly and liked what he saw.
"It's stupid. I was coming up behind you while you were pissing, and when I got closer, I could hear you singing. I don't remember the song now, but I knew it then, and you were getting most of the words wrong. Like, seriously. Almost all the words."
Brick frowned. "An' you decided I was too dumb for you?"
"No," Mordecai said, sounding surprised. "It wasn't that. You were just...really cute. I thought it wasn't worth fucking up the chance to be friends with you. But I did, uh...think about you. That night. Hey, would you get up here, already?"
Brick's knees ached as he clambered up on the bed to join Mordecai. His dick, hard again after a record breakingly short refractory period, rubbed uncomfortably against the damp spot where he'd finished in his pants. Mordecai wrapped an arm around Brick's waist, fingers teasing under the hem of his shirt. "I don't talk about this kind of stuff a lot. But I had to...tell you something. You know?"
Brick kissed the shorter man's sweaty temple. "Yeah."
Mordecai fished around under his pillow, and Brick thought he was looking for a pack of cigarettes, but when his hand reemerged, he was holding something that made Brick's heart lurch.
"My necklace," Brick finally managed to say, as Mordecai reached out to slip the chain over his head. "You found it."
"It was all we could find in the rubble. And, uhm..."
Brick's hand came up automatically to touch the trinkets on the necklace, and he found them intact: the key, Pris's paw, and...
Tears sprung to his eyes. "Dusty."
"Thought you might want that, if...If we were wrong. If you came back. I asked Zed to do it. His only condition was that he get to keep the body, and I figured you wouldn't mind-" When Brick's eyes snapped open, he laughed. "Just kidding. Zed removed the paw, but we buried the rest of him."
Brick turned the paw over and over, running his thumb over the bumps of the pawpads. Dusty had been a small pup. His brown paw was only about half the size of Priscilla's white one. He wanted to thank Mordecai, but nothing seemed like enough to express the depth of his gratitude, and a hot lump of emotion swelled his throat shut.
He tried force words past it, but a sob burst from his mouth instead. Mordecai's arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. Brick nuzzled into the crook of the smaller man's neck and cried, leaving a damp patch of tears and spit against his Mordecai's skin, but if he minded, he didn't say.
When he'd wept dry, he snuffled an apology.
"You're fine. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you earlier, when you tried to tell me where you've been. I thought I was dreaming. But I'll listen now," Mordecai said.
So Brick told him everything, starting at the botched escape from New Haven - Andy's head popped like a zit, Dusty's crumpled corpse - to the prison, and the surrogate family he'd found there. He didn't elaborate much about Rocko, but he didn't lie, either. He snuck a look at Mordecai's face when he told him that part. His expression didn't change, but Brick went on hurriedly anyway, to their tenuous relationship with the guards, and, ultimately, Kindle's death.
After he finished talking, crying a little again (like a baby shitting peach pits, according to Bool) Mordecai kissed the top of his head. "That sucks. Sorry about the girl."
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"About Rocko."
"Nah. You can do whatever you want. We're not gay married."
Brick grunted. "That's stupid. Gay married. You think I'm gonna get down on one knee someday and say, hey, Mordy, will you gay marry me? I wanna be your gay husband for the rest of my gay life."
To Brick's surprise, Mordecai turned increasingly deep shades of red. "Wh-what? What're you talking about?"
"You don't get gay married. You just get married."
"Oh," Mordecai said. "Whatever. I'm not getting any kind of married."
"Not even if I ask real nice?"
Mordecai tugged Brick's ear hard enough to hurt. "Quit it. Anyway, I don't think your new boyfriend would be too happy if you eloped with me."
"If we gay eloped?"
Brick thought Mordecai might laugh at that, but he didn't. Their fingers found each other's and intertwined. They laid together for awhile, not talking, watching the ceiling fan lazily push air around above them and listening to Bloodwing's barely perceptible snores.
"We should go. Everyone will wanna see you," Mordecai said. The bed creaked as he sat up, stretched, and popped his back. "What the hell did you do with my pants?"
Brick helped him look and found them crumpled under the bed. He watched unhappily as Mordecai pulled them on.
"What?" he snapped when he caught Brick staring.
"It ain't gonna be like this, will it?"
Mordecai hesitated, but the answer was already in his face. "I don't know, Brick. It's complicated."
But he did know, and Brick knew it, too. He touched the totems on his necklace. He wondered about the other key, the twin to his own. Now, like the girl who used to wear it, it was lost. That wasn't the only reason for Brick's creeping dread. He sensed the thing that hunted him in the Fathoms, the moon, hunting him still. He could feel the weight of its mind, waiting and watching, a predator that gauged him carefully.
Brick tried to shake off the thought, pulling on the clothes that Mordecai brought him. They were his, salvaged from his apartment in New Haven. Like the necklace, Mordecai had saved them: 'just in case'.