But JJ got out. It’s the tiniest scrap of hope, but it’s all Chester has right now. JJ got out, and so did Roma. Hell, so did Sawyer and Naomi. Most of the people Chester cares about are already out of this place that’s hurt them in so many ways, that’s turned them against each other and tried to destroy their humanity. As far as anyoneoutside the Sanctum he cares about, that would really just be Obie, and?—
All at once, Chester realizes why he feels so warm. It’s because there’s someone curled up directly behind him, Chester’s back against their chest and a toned arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders.
His heart jumps into his throat.Oh, crap.
Frantically, he searches through his memories from last night. He remembers Maggie handing them the manila folder, remembers everything going a bit hazy after that. He remembers Obie getting them back to Chester’s room in the Sanctum—he’ll never be able to call it “home” again—and confirming through the telepathic link that the Sanctum was behind it all.
He remembers sobbing in Obie’s arms while Obie whispered into his hair that he was sorry. Remembers Obie coaxing Chester out of his sneakers and guiding him into bed and holding him close while Chester had a full-scale panic attack.
Holyshit,Chester is in bed with Obadiah Smith. He’s in bed withNostringvadha.He’s?—
Abruptly, Obie’s arm tightens around him. “Shut up.”
The annoyed command in Obie’s tired voice eases some of the tension in Chester’s chest. “I didn’t say anything,” he protests weakly.
“I can feel you panicking.” Obie’s arm squeezes briefly before relaxing, and Chester is almost disappointed when he pulls away. Slowly, Chester flips over to face him, swallowing hard when they end up almost nose to nose.
Chester’s back is pressed against the wall, so he doesn’t have room to shift away. It’s strangely comforting that Obie doesn’t bother moving, either. “Hi,” Chester says awkwardly.
“Hi.” Obie’s eyes search Chester’s face. “How do you feel?”
Chester almost laughs. “Like I got hit by a truck.”
Obie’s lips press together. “I’m not surprised,” he says quietly. “That was a lot. And I shouldn’t have put you through it in public. It was an incredibly inconsiderate call on my part, and I’m sorry.”
He looks so sincere about it, too. Chester’s heart aches, but this time, it feels like a good ache. “It could’ve beenslightlymore tactful,” he hedges, “but, to be fair, you had no idea what Maggie had in that folder.”
“Still.” Obie looks irritated with himself, like last night was an entirely preventable mistake.
Even though all he did was look Maggie in the eye and say they could trust Chester. Even though Chester should be someone Obie doesn’t trust at all. Even though Chester is a Sanctum hunter, aninterrogator,someone who’s spent almost a decade torturing demons like him.
And not just demonslikehim. His adherents, his worshippers, his believers. The people Nostringvadha cares about, the people he swore to protect. Bile rises in Chester’s throat at the thought. How many innocent demons has he hurt over the years? How many times has he blindly done whatever the Council told him to do? How many?—?
“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Chester hears himself say. “I’m glad it happened like that. If those documents hadn’t come directly from Maggie, I don’t know if I would’ve believed them. I might’ve thought you tampered with them and just used a name you’d seen around the prison.” His laugh comes out more bitter than he expected. “How did they do that? How did they make it so I would defend them even when all the evidence was against them? How could I have been sostupidto believe?—?”
“You’re not stupid,” Obie cuts in sharply, and a tight smile twists on his lips. “Not this time, at least. The Sanctum took you in when you were young and vulnerable, and they brainwashed you into believing them. It wasn’t your fault. You were a victim, just like JJ. Just like Roma, too. None of you deserved what happened to you.”
Chester’s throat feels tight all over again. Obie’s voice is firm and his gaze is steady, and somehow?—
Somehow, Chester never noticed that Obie’s eyes have little streaks of amber in them. Not quite yellow and not quite orange, but pureamber.
Like something priceless that’s been preserved for millennia and is just waiting to be discovered.
Chester doesn’t know how he never noticed that before, but then again, they’ve never really been this close before. Certainly never close enough to see the tiny details in Obie’s eyes as they search Chester’s, never close enough to feel Obie’s soft breath on his lips?—
And this isn’t the time to think about that. Not right now, anyway. It’s still a problem, just like it was a problem in the softer moments of last night’s bowling league, but maybe?—
Maybe not as much of a problem as it used to be. Slowly, Chester sits up on the mattress, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I want out,” he whispers, and saying the words out loud sends terror and exhilaration sparking through him in equal measures. “I—I want to leave the Sanctum. Permanently. I want to defect.”
Obie smiles as he sits up, matching Chester’s pose. “Good. Pack your bags. We can be gone in ten minutes.”
The reply is so effortless, somatter of fact,that Chester barks out an incredulous laugh. “Obie, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Obie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be stupid. You’ll stay with me, obviously. My house is more than big enough for two people. After you’ve officially defected, we can get Ez and Roma more involved, too—they’ll definitely prioritize breaking the binding spell once they realize it’s affecting us, not my boyfriend’s idiot friend. Once we don’t have those distance restraints, you can move into one of my safe apartments, if you want. Or—or you can just keep living with me. That’dbe fine, too.” He arches an eyebrow. “I don’t entirely hate having you around.”
Chester’s laugh feels shakier this time. “That easy, huh?”
Obie’s smile softens. “Yeah. That easy. Last night was the hardest part, I think. From now on, you can just… be you.” He ducks his head, meeting Chester’s gaze. “I promise.”
