Rinse [manxman]

Chapter Thirteen

"Well, I'm inclined to let you leave given your physical condition," Wyatt said, stepping back with a small smile.

I nodded and glanced away, pursing my lips. Two weeks had passed since I first made contact with Lebeaux, four weeks since I started living with Wyatt and Grim. It was about time I left, but hearing that I could actually leave made a knot form in my stomach.

As soon as I walked in, Dakota would know. Everyone would know. They were all going to take one look at me and they would just know. From being poisoned to being a feast for Raden Boone, nothing would be off-limits.

Of course I knew that wasn't possible. No one in Unit 03 had telepathic abilities. There was no possible way they could know—just like the last time. But I was still scared shitless that they would figure it out. Last time, I'd had Goss on my side to keep the invasive questions at bay. Goss was long gone though. There was no one to help me get through it. No one to stop the interrogations. No one to stand up for me and demand that everyone leave me alone.

I had to do it for myself. And the more I thought about it, the more I lost faith in my ability to do it.

Wyatt frowned. "What's wrong, Blake?"

I bit my lip, glancing back up at him as I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Should I delay my clearance?" he asked, tilting his head and sliding his hands into his pockets. "Being physically healthy doesn't mean that you are psychologically."

"No," I sighed, "no. I've done it this long, I can keep on."

"Something is different this time, though, right?" Wyatt nodded, a bitter smirk pulling at his lips before dissolving into a grimace. "Each time it happens, the situation changes. Bouncing back last time isn't the same as doing it this time. New situations, new people: all of it impacts your recovery strategy."

"I'm learning that," I said. "This time, I'll be alone."

"You have a family."

"That's not what I meant... Last time, I was rescued. I was completely alone aside from one person deciding to befriend me. No one asked any questions, because my former boss kept everyone away. My new best friend did too." I slid off the table and grabbed my shirt. "No one is there to stop the questions this time."

"What about your friend?"

"He's there, but he's the most curious of them all. Even last time, he asked questions, but they were kept in-check because of my boss." I shrugged. "This time, no one will stop him, and no one will stop the others."

"And you're afraid you'll crack under the pressure?"

"Pretty much."

Wyatt nodded. "If you need more time, I can give it."

I shook my head. "I want it, but I need to get back. They need me to help and keep my family focused."

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" The black fabric of my shirt slipped over my head and hung loosely around my still sore arms and chest.

Wyatt leaned against one of the other tables, almost perching himself on the edge of it. "I've heard the conversations between you and Miles, and the way you speak about needing to return hints to something happening. I know you're military or used to be. Lebeaux and his team are too." He folded his arms over his chest, making his blue, plaid shirt pull taut over his broad shoulders. "What's happening to make military people worry this much?"

Telling him presented a handful of risks, but alongside of those came a number of benefits. One of which was the fact that I could twist my words to pull him with me. Not only would his presence help Lebeaux focus and maybe even create new tech, but he would also be able to back me up, maybe keep a few people off my case.