"I want to be with you," David said softly. "I'm not sorry about it."
"Of course you aren't. You aren't sorry because people like you don't ever have to be sorry." His voice was bitter now, full of something past the two of them.
"But you do?"
Alec didn't reply. David wrapped his arms around his knees, sat silent, curling himself up tight and staring fixedly at the sky. His fingers were cold. He didn't know what to do, to say, and wished he did.
They sat that way for a long time and then Alec sighed. "I want to be with you too," he said quietly and moved closer, hesitated and then put a careful arm around him. "Tell me what stars you're looking at."
David looked at him, then back at the stars. "That's the Loom," he said, and pointed at a bright cluster in the middle of the sky.
"What are you talking about? That's the Bear."
"No, no, I know it's the Loom. See how it forms the shape of one? With the hump and the‑‑"
"Have you ever seen a loom?"
"No."
Alec laughed, pulled him close. David smiled up at the sky.
"Look," Alec said. "See the curve there? That's the bear's back. Have you ever seen a bear?"
"No. Well, in pictures."
"Figures," Alec said and told him a story about a bear who'd ended up in the stars. David listened, nestled in Alec's arms.
The next morning people woke up and found flowers blooming even though the trees were still bare and there was a chill in the air.
David picked some of the flowers and put them in a glass. They made Alec sneeze violently but when David went to throw them away Alec stopped him, one hand on his arm.
"I can tell you like the damn things," he said. "Leave them."
"Really?"
"Yes," Alec said sourly, and sneezed again. David pulled him close, watched Alec's eyes melt from narrowed and suspicious to something else, something sweeter.
"I'm happy," David said. "All the time. It's amazing. I think of you and I want to smile. Do I make you want to smile?"
"No," Alec said, and kissed him. David could feel the curve of his mouth against his own.
Chapter Eight
"Want some?" Bash said.
Alec shook his head. Even in the guttering flicker of minelight he could see the things in Bash's eyes swimming crazily, flipping and twisting so hard he thought he might be seeing Bash leave in a bag before the end of the day.
"Dragons," Bash whispered to him and whistled low under his breath. Alec grunted and swung his pick. The rock shuddered but didn't split. Beside him Bash threw up. "Inside an egg," he said afterwards. "Very yellow." Then he threw up again.
"You sure you don't want some?" Bash said when he was done. Alec thought about it for a second but then shook his head again. Wormwood wouldn't help, not like it should. Now any time he took it all he saw was David and he was everywhere already. Behind his eyes when he closed them, right around the corner no matter what he thought about. And always there every night, waiting for him like he didn't ever want to leave. Touching him…he swung the pick again.
The rock chipped, but only enough to spit fragments at him. He got most of them off his face before they could scratch deep enough to draw blood.
"Heigh ho!" he heard the worker at the top of the shaft sing as he'd finally gotten the rock to give way a bit. Foreman coming.
"Up," he hissed to Bash who'd slumped over his rock, tracing patterns in the air with one finger.
His eyes had started to bleed a little.
"Lohoheigh!" Bash giggled, but he got up and swung his pick. It hit the rock at the perfect angle, cracking it all the way open. Alec felt the shudders of the split travel up his own arms, making them ache more than usual. He picked up the gleaming stuff inside, pressed it into Bash's hands.
When he didn't move Alec punched him in the face. Bash stared at him and the things in his eyes rolled over, almost faded back but then didn't, twitched and pushed even harder.
"Keep your head down," Alec told him and shoved him in the direction of the collection bin.
"Frogs," Bash said, but patted him on the shoulder as he left. Alec sighed and swung his pick again.
The foreman came too soon. He'd heard the call but had hoped, foolishly, that it wasn't as close as it sounded, that he'd have a bit more time. He took another swing at the rock and waited.
He didn't have to wait long. The foreman looked at him and shook his head, then said, "Where's Bash?"
"Got a vein."
"Three for him this week. How many for you again?"
"None," Alec said shortly and swung his pick again.
The foreman put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed down hard, stilling his arm mid‑swing.
"What was that?"
Alec gritted his teeth. His arm was screaming, the foreman's fingers pressing into every sore and torn joint. "None yet, sir."
"Well then, best try harder," the foreman said and squeezed one last time, hard enough for Alec to feel his arm pop, the shoulder slide back and out of place. His first day back the foreman had come and found him as he was waiting for the cart down with everyone else, called him aside with a grin of utter hatred marking his face and said, "So you decided working here with…what was it you said? Oh yes, an imbecilic idiot of a foreman. Decided that wouldn't be so bad, have you?" He'd grinned when Alec mumbled something and said, "So how's the arm?" motioning for someone to hold him down while he'd twisted it out of place. When he was done he'd pulled him up by it, yanking so hard Alec saw black yellow spots everywhere, and then slapped him once, twice, hard enough for the spots to bleed away and for the mine to blur back into view. "Too bad your arm didn't have a chance to heal up proper while you were gone," the foreman had said.
"Guess we'll put you on half pay till you heal up again." Then he'd sent him down.
"Oh," the foreman said now, tongue clicking against his teeth, a sound Alec dreaded and hated.
"I almost forgot. How's your bit of stuff?"
He swung his pick again. Bright hot pain all down his arm. He pictured the foreman's head splitting open.
"Not as nice as what had you before, I hear," the foreman said, and cuffed him on the back of the head.
When Alec didn't reply he did it again. His head hit the rock and it finally split wide open. There was a vein inside, a bold bright purple.
"Well now," the foreman said. "There's progress. I guess you just have to use your head." He laughed and walked away. Alec gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, sang out "Heigh ho!" to signal that the foreman was moving on. His voice sounded fine.
***
Alec would only talk about leaving the mines late at night, when it was too dark for David to see his face. During the day he never said anything and if David mentioned them Alec would just shrug and turn away, fall silent like there was nothing to say. It didn't matter. David heard dreams in Alec's voice at night and always thought about when he first met him, about what Alec had said about where he'd been. About singing, about trying, about what people saw when they looked at him.
"I'd love to never see another rock again," Alec would sometimes say and then he'd always laugh and add, "but then I haven't done very well at getting away from them so far." Sometimes when David reached for him Alec would sigh, shift into his arms. But usually he'd say, "One day, maybe," and pull back slightly, talk about going far away.
He never mentioned taking David with him, never seemed to weave him into his dreams.
"I'd like to see that," David said one night, Alec's hand tight in his. Alec's voice had been softer than usual when he talked of leaving, of wandering across a desert where a sea used to be to unknown lands past that, not sad but just quiet, and when David had reached for him he'd kissed him gently, whispered his name.