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Chapter 18 - Love's Labour's...

I'm a coward.

There, I said it (or wrote it?). It's hard to say that out loud and even harder to think that I deserve such a title, but I had to, because all I've ever done in my life was running and fleeing from anything and everything I feared. I fled out of fear when Mordecai killed Bensley back in London. Sure, Gideon had told me to run and follow through with our plan, but I still ran, terrified and scared.

I ran and ran and kept running until I ended up here in New York City. When my demons followed me to this city, I still ran, avoiding the obvious things I should've dealt with years ago to not feel so angry at myself. I was ashamed of running and leaving Gideon to what I knew, deep down, was his death.

So when I saw him with Mordecai that day at the debut, I felt a shock like none other. Happiness, relief, fear, anger, terror, worry, sadness... all these emotions that had been linked to those terrible days in London came rushing at me. And for the first time in a long time, I was actually feeling these things. I had become so good at shutting myself off from the world that I couldn't even let myself feel real joy -- I was scared it would cause me to bring back memories of London.

But seeing Gideon unlocked that barely-working door in my mind and threw it wide open. Even worse, Avery was holding it open and stopping me from slamming it shut. I had to deal with these feelings. It was why I was feeling so much better about myself, about life, even if I was closer to Mordecai killing me than ever before. Fiz and Rut were wonderful friends and I was grateful to have them in my life.

So you'll have to forgive me when, on my walk home from Palmer's one evening, I screamed at the top of my lungs when I rounded a corner and bumped into the one thing I never expected to see up close ever again.

Gideon. My Gideon. He was standing right in front of me.

The first thing I remember thinking was that ... he wasn't so tall now. I had grown like a beanstalk since when I was in London, and while I wasn't Gideon's height or width, I was much bigger now. I also saw that his fur had been brushed and shined to perfection, special care being put in it to cover his scars with the surrounding fur to help hide them better. They were still visible, but the dye and the brushing were making them less pronounced. Siro had used something like that on one of his workers once, when the worker had a scar on his neck.

Gideon was also immaculate. A nice suit, crisp and pressed with a silk tie and shirt. He looked like a gentleman, the very model of the people we would laugh at when we sat near Westminster and watched the members of Parliament wander in to do work that we would never in a million years think of doing. I still smile when I think about how Gideon did a very good impression of a royal voice. I wondered, at the time, if Queen Victoria sounded so stuffy.

I don't think Gideon was expecting to see me either, or have someone scream in his face suddenly. It was enough to get my wits about me and turn tail to run.

Remember, I'm a coward.

I fled down the alley to my left and quickly changed course. I looked up and saw Avery sitting on a fire escape and kicking his legs, pointing back the way I came. He spoke so very clearly: "He's right behind you."

So I sped up. I bound over a fence and used my swift body to my advantage. I also knew these streets well and I found I didn't have to think. I wasn't heading toward home anymore; that was too dangerous. I was making a roundabout way to Renaldo -- I needed help.

But that damned, but admittedly handsome, wolf kept dogging my steps. I turned another corner and almost slipped in a puddle when I felt a huge hand close around my wrist and yank me around. I squirmed but it was no use; I had my hands above my head and soon found myself pinned to the brick wall, Gideon slamming his full weight against me and knocking the wind from my lungs. I wheezed as I stood there, our muzzles so close. I could smell the shampoo he used in his fur.

"You bathe more often," I whispered, wheezing.

"What?" Gideon said, not expecting that. The pressure on my chest lightened up ever so slightly and I was able to take a gulp of air.

"Smell like expensive shampoo," I returned, trying to tug my arms away, but he held both of them in one hand now, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pry myself away. Not only that, but he didn't even budge an inch while I struggled with all my might. It felt as though I was trying to move a marble statue. He had always been strong, but this was a new extreme. I gave up tugging.

I saw Gideon examining my face. His free hand came up and brushed the white mark over my eye, making me twitch and turn my head away.

"Gideon, what are you doing? Did you run away from him?"

By the look on his face, my question apparently stunned Gideon, as though I had asked him if he had two penises or something. He almost let me go in surprise but quickly tightened his grip.

"I am here looking for you on his orders. He has me looking all over this area for you. He thought I would be able to find you quicker than the other men. He was right. He's always right."

"Well, you got me, love," I said, letting my accent bleed back. Gideon's was more pronounced than mine, but since he spent most of his time with Mordecai, I imagined that his accent wouldn't fade as quickly. "Now what are you gonna do, hm? Drag me back to your master?"

"I'm supposed to," Gideon said, looking me over once again. "I'm not supposed to hurt you though." He was still looking at me over, red eyes flicking up and down, left and right. Honestly he used to look at me like this before -- when I was usually changing clothes near him.

I felt myself starting to get hard. Which was difficult to hide since Gideon had one of his legs pushed up between mine with a knee close to my testicles. Clever, so that he could hit me in the balls to keep me from running if I made a sudden move.

"But I don't want to." The wolf grimaced like he had a headache. "But I have to... but I don't want to. If he gets you... that's it, you won't be Simon anymore." I noticed that he was purposefully not using Mordecai's name to refer to him. But he didn't need to, for I could tell from how much care Gideon placed in pronouncing the word each time, as though he was mentioning God Himself.

"I mean it's not high on my list either, love," I said, swallowing. "So just let me go and he won't ever know you found me."

"No, he will find out sooner or later. My searches are getting more and more precise; he is looking over my notes. He knows I'm close."

"So then what are you going to do with me?"

I tried to play calm -- as calm as I could manage, at least. I had a knife in my belt, but in this position, Gideon would see me go for it.

I also didn't think I could stab my old friend.

Gideon, on the other hand, seemed torn. "I am... going to do something that feels very wrong. He is going to be so angry if he finds out, but... I can't ignore this feeling. I... but I can't go against him... then I'll..."

The man let go of me and put his hands on his head, shaking as he seemed to experience the worst headache anyone could imagine.

He pushed his forehead against the brick and winced as he knocked his head against it, gently again and again and again. He opened one of his eyes and looked at me. He talked through clenched teeth. "Your tiger friend. Tin. He has him."

I was readying myself to take off fleeing from Gideon again -- I could probably get up onto a fire escape, I figured -- but that stopped me in my tracks.

"W...What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Tin was taken a while ago. He's alive. Tortured, but alive. Not like what happened to... our friend. Mostly sex. Mostly."

"Where is he?" I stepped closer to the tall wolf, touching his arm gingerly. I had my free hand behind my back ready to grab the knife if I needed to.

"I'll tell you," Gideon said and straightened up, fixing his vest. "But I need something from you, Simon."

Hearing Gideon call me by my name for the first time in God knows how many years made me wince, letting go of his arm.

"I mean... I don't know what I have that you could want, Gideon. Your suit probably costs more money than I see in a year. Remember how you used to run around London in that vest that was basically a rag?" I said with a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the moment.

Gideon chewed the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking about something that was troubling him. I sighed and stepped over, touching his arm again.

"Gideon, you can tell me. It's me. It's Simon."

The wolf exhaled slowly, and then, when he opened up those big red eyes of his, he grinned so much like the boy I remembered. My heart thudded, but in a flash, it was gone, and his face was now covered with something so... different from anything I had ever seen before.

There were fragments of my old friend in there, but Mordecai had smashed him up and put the pieces back together all wrong. The man in front of me wasn't Gideon anymore.

Was this why I didn't feel anything for this man? I wanted him to be alright, I still felt close, but there was something different...

"I want you," Gideon said, swallowing. "We never got to have each other in London. I want... no, I need to fix that. Please. I've thought about what it would be like for years. I need to know. I need to know before everything starts to change."

I was stunned. In all these years, all these moments where I wasn't sure he was alive or not, Gideon still lusted over me. I was insanely flattered, my ears turning a shade of pink underneath my black fur as I blushed and looked down at my feet. Sure, I had thought about Gideon too, but he was the reason I generally had a "no wolf" policy. I was worried they would make me think about him. I swallowed again and laughed, a hand going to rest on my hip and smirking.

"Come on then. I know a place. But if you don't hold up your end of the bargain, I'll --"

"Cut off my balls?" he countered quirkily, tilting his head to the side in that familiar way that made me want to hug and punch him all at once.

"To start with," I said, needing to get the last word in.

Then, I took Gideon to the Arc-en-Ciel.

Firo was not happy to find out about Gideon, and Siro was almost livid with my decision to bring him here. The Arc was very much hands-off from what I could understand of city politics and gang turf wars -- Siro spent a lot of money to make sure no one wanted him out of the proverbial picture. He also didn't like trouble wandering in through his doors. It took a lot of promising that I was fine and that Gideon wouldn't hurt me. I was touched when Siro said that if I was hurt, Gideon wouldn't live long enough to regret his decision.

I took him up to the room I liked, the one at the end of the hallway with a small window and a large fireplace. I closed the door behind us and didn't bother locking it -- Firo and Siro would get in through any means possible, of that I was certain.

When I turned around, Gideon was right there, already half naked. Stripped of his shirt and jacket, I could see just how defined he was -- Mordecai had made him work out, it seemed. He had already been fit when we were just boys in London, but now... he was beautiful in his own way. He still had the scars of his life on the streets as a brawler and a gang leader, but he had brushed his fur and trimmed it down, using oils to try and bring what I had once described as a whirlwind of craziness into something manageable.

"You look good," I said softly, turning to the man who I had once thought would be there for me my whole life. I smiled and stepped closer and curled my arms around his shoulders, leaned in, and we kissed.

There are moments in your life where you realize things are not what you expected. For years, often to the annoying cries of my younger mind, I imagined what having sex with him would be like. I had imagined long sessions lasting from the darkest of nights until the brilliant rise of the sun coming up over the horizon and beaming into our window. I had imagined passion unending and a desire to be pushed together and not separate for anything. I had thought just touching him would bring me sexual bliss.

So while I sit here, writing this story, I am confronted with embellishing what happened or telling you the truth. I know, whoever is reading this journal, has been wondering what our lovemaking would look and feel like.

I shall enlighten you then: the sex, physically, was beyond anything I had experienced before.

Gideon was strong and fit and could easily move me around without a care in the world about tiring. We switched from me on the bottom to riding him, and everything in between. He was so much larger than I imagined as well -- longer and thicker than a lot of men I would admit have crossed my bedroom, even if he refused to tie me.

I lost count on how many times we both came; I think it was four for me, three for him. As I said we were just riding the pleasure that came from fucking and we didn't talk much during the moments of erotic bliss. It was as if we were both sure that, if we kept fucking with all our energy and all our hope, something would kindle a spark that we both wanted. I saw the look of near desperation in his eyes a couple times, and I'm certain he saw it in mine. We had wanted this for years, and it had been one of the few sexual fantasies I had since London that had stayed with me, the idea always a potent one to help me pleasure myself if I needed to sometimes.

The other odd thing I noticed was that Avery was present in the room. He didn't speak, but he was there, sometimes watching us, sometimes just looking out the window, sitting by the fire... Once I even saw him sitting on the bed. He wasn't aroused -- but how could a ghost be horny anyway? -- but I could tell he was watching us and waiting for something to happen.

I bring this up because I realized, weeks before then, that Avery always 'vanished' from my field of vision when I had sex. He never came around before, during, or after. I started having sex sometimes just to get him to vanish -- and to enjoy myself, of course.

But this time he was present. He also looked bored.

When we were both exhausted and sweaty, I felt the bed thump and the familiar feeling of a man slipping out of me. I rolled over and saw Gideon, his erection there and glistening with semen and oil. His fur was damp and his muzzle open with his tongue out. He looked at me and swallowed and then smiled.

"I always imagined you being energetic in bed," he said softly, his hand running along my arm as he laid there, looking at me.

"I always worried you were as thick as a horse," I said with a grin and a wink at him, curling up next to him and holding his arm. For a moment, we weren't two men whose lives had been destroyed by a psychotic caracal.

How many times had we fallen asleep in his tiny bed in that abandoned factory building, naked like this but never touching each other, and just enjoying each other's company? Gideon had been the man who helped me figure out who I was, sexually. He was like a brother now. I think part of me will always love him.

But I realized then that I wasn't in love with him anymore.

Gideon laid on his side and curled his arms around me, and we laid there listening to the fire crackle. We brought our muzzles close and we kissed, nothing heavy and deep, but it was affectionate nonetheless. It was then that I felt the moisture trickling down the fur of my cheeks. I was crying.

"I'm so sorry, Gideon..."

Gideon didn't seem bothered by my sudden apology. "You listened to me. You ran."

"But you were caught for --"

"Stop," he said, holding me tighter. "I don't... want to talk about him right now. He is... it is hard to explain. But he's important to me now. I don't... it's not... please, let's not talk about this, Simon."

My heart broke. Mordecai had twisted this man, this genuinely good person, into something else. The essence that was Gideon was still there but he wasn't the same person I remember -- he was linked to Mordecai, in ways I don't know or fully understand. I wanted to help him. I knew then that I had to kill this caracal if Gideon would ever have a semblance of a regular life.

"I won't ask what happened to you," I said, swallowing back my own guilt. "I just need to know that you're my friend still."

"Simon." Gideon looked at me as he sat up. I soon followed. "I know that. It's why I'm here. Everything... fucking everything I know about me today says I should knock you out and drag you back to him. It makes me excited. But... you're an old friend. Someone I care about." He swallowed and ran his hand over the top of his head.

"Which is why I'm helping you this one time," he continued. "I can't...I can't stop him or anything. He's too good, Simon. He's quick and agile like you on the roofs. I can't keep up with him when he really lets loose." Another swallow and he looked at me. "But I know... I know what he's doing to your friend is awful, and I don't want to see someone end up just like me, you know?"

I watched Gideon reach down and pick up his trousers. He fished out a small slip of paper and then handed it to me. I opened it up and saw an address. "He's there. Your friend, right now. But he" -- he meant Mordecai -- "ain't there, he's at a gala downtown. I'm the only one he trusts with that place. I've got no reason to go there tonight, and I also can't go. He'll know if I do. You won't find anyone there, and you just need to pry the door open. None of the traps are on -- there's no need for that. He's confident that your pal won't make an escape."

I looked down at the paper and turned it over in my hand. I frowned. I didn't want this moment to end. I didn't want to say goodbye to another old friend. I caught myself quivering, feeling another tear run down my face.

"Gideon... please don't go back to him."

"I must, Simon. If I don't, your friend is dead. So are your pals in the Black Socks Gang. He's gonna kill all of you, but he's waitin' to see what that Iron brother does first; it's their turn to make a move, as he'd say. Plus he's getting this new cane made, and he doesn't like going out without it."

"Promise me one thing then," I said as I stood up from the bed. "You... whatever happens to him, you stay alive... and if we can, we talk more. Away from him. Promise me, Gideon. The man you used to be. Please."

"Simon, I can't --"

"Gideon!" I growled. "You can. You being here, helping me, that proves it!" I approached him and grabbed his arm, looking up at him with a tight scowl. "So cut the crap and promise me."

"Alright, alright!" he said, stepping back with his hands up. "I promise..." When I let him go, he blinked, looking me up and down. "You never used to bark orders at me like that."

I smiled wryly. "When you live on a ship for a few years, you learn that some guys need to be yelled at to do anything. And if this is a trap, you won't live long enough to gloat about it. I'm telling Siro and Firo, and they'll tell my friends if I don't show up."

"It isn't a trap," Gideon said firmly. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "But if you want it to stay that way, you need to get moving."

---

A lot of people not from New York don't know that the river is peppered with islands. Some have people living on them, some require ferries, and some have bridges. Mordecai's little hideaway was on one of the rundown islands that took me bribing a ferryman to take me there, which was no small feat in the middle of the night.

It took a lot of persuading on my part so that Siro and Firo would let me come to this place alone at night. When I relayed to them what Gideon had told me, I purposefully left out the part about going there to rescue Tin. Instead, I only told them that I was heading there to get something that would help me in my fight against Mordecai. It wasn't exactly a lie, and I was proud of that, because Siro could see through my lies like a lady's veil.

Siro offered to have some of his men come with me, but I refused. After all, I needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, and a group of heavily built men heading to an island in the middle of the night was anything but. Also, I trusted Gideon when he said that it wasn't a trap, but if it indeed turned out to be one, I would be the only casualty. I didn't want anyone else to suffer because of me.

Arriving at the small island, I saw ruins and rubbles from what looked like a fire that happened long ago. Houses looked incomplete and were a wreck, and I wandered around until I found what I was looking for.

There was a burned out home near a large hill. From the angle of the road -- if you could even call this pathway that -- its front door appeared to lead to the rubble higher up on the hill, but if you walked around to the side and craned your head around another burned out house, you could see that the door was actually a façade and leading to a tunnel into the hill.

I walked up to the door and didn't miss a beat. I wanted to be out of here and the ferryman wasn't going to wait for me much longer. I pulled the crowbar up and slammed it into the door jam, growling.

"Move... you... bitch!" I growled, putting all my weight and strength into it. I heard something squeal like metal being twisted and then a loud crack as the wood shattered. The door opened. I slammed the end into the hole I had made and pried the door open more, then quickly ran inside.

I held the crowbar up like a sword as I went through a second door and into what I can only describe as a house of horrors. All along the walls were corpses of tigers hanging from hooks, long dead and in states of decay.

In the middle of this room was a table with another tiger strapped down to it and stark naked. Next to him was a long table of medical devices and bottles of chemicals. I almost recoiled in horror but quickly moved over and gave this victim a look. He was breathing, out cold, and cut along his legs and chest. Cuts ran along some of his stripes, and his headfur had been trimmed shorter. Hell, most of his fur had lost the winter coat. Which wasn't bad for the show but terrible in keeping him warm.

I reached over and shook his shoulder, calling him by his full first name.

"Quentin?"

No response.

I inhaled as much air as I could and yelled near his ear.

"TIN!"

That got a response. The tiger winced and turned his head away, looking up at me with a scowl... and then softening his expression.

"Fuck... did he give me the hallucinogens again?" Tin said, his speech a bit slurred, trying to pry his arms up. I looked at the straps and quickly went about unhooking him.

"I'm real, and we need to move," I said, working one of the ankles free. Tin's heel slammed against my finger as he continued struggling. With a wince, I put it in my mouth to try to dull the pain. "What the hell?!"

"Sure you are, and seein' my old man and grandad the other day was also real. Or seein' Nickel coming back to the family business, right? Fuck you."

I walked over to the side of his bed and slapped him across his broad muzzle. That got him to finally stop pulling on his restraints and regard me fully. He was growling.

"Tin, I swear to God, I'm real, and I'm here alone right now. I need to get you out of here but I can't do that if you're flopping around on the table so STAY FUCKING STILL!" I shouted at him and worked quickly.

Remarkably, Tin did as he was commanded and the straps were undone. He sat up on the table and rubbed his wrists, wincing as he moved joints that probably hadn't moved much in weeks. He stared at me. "You... you really came?"

"Yes, Quinn." I sighed and looked around this room for some clothes. Nothing. Fuck. This was going to be interesting. "If you want to be back on the table, you can gawk at me some more. But if you move your striped ass up, I promise I'll let you stare at me all you want with my clothes off," I said in my attempt to lighten up the mood a bit -- mostly for my own sake because I could feel my legs starting tremble from the fear of being in the evil caracal's lair.

I was pulling out a long knife and slipped it into my waistband when I heard the tiger step onto the ground. "Deal."

Wait a minute. "What?"

"Come on, Simon," the tiger said and motioned to me to come over. He put his arm around me and put some of his weight onto my much smaller frame. He was limping on that wounded leg. He needed me for support.

When we arrived at the Ferryman's landing, with Tin naked and bloody and me holding a crowbar, it took some more money and a threat from Tin to get the man to calm down and let us onboard. The good sailor was kind enough to give Tin something to wrap around his waist.

I sat next to the tiger as the ferryman rowed, and I winced when the sun came up over the horizon while we were still out in the middle of the river. My hand came up and shielded my eyes, and I found my head leaning against Tin's shoulder.

"Comfortable?" he asked, trying not to look right into the sun just as much as I was.

"Long day," I said. That earned me a chuckle.

After another few moments of silence while the boat moved ever closer to shore, I felt my eyelids grow heavier both from exhaustion and from realizing that I was no longer in danger. Then, Tin nudged me with his arm.

"I just wanted to get specifics," the tiger said with an exhausted but wry smile. "How long do I have to wait to see you naked?"