The second update for the month is more The Last Angel: Pets, as voted for by my patrons. The relationship between the twins is breaking down as the stress of their discommendation and their situation begins to mount. Meanwhile, an old friend is down for some rest and recovery after a very difficult pregnancy, but I’m sure she’ll eventually want to come and see them again…
Below is a snippet from the former situation; for the latter and the rest of the chapter, check out the link above and enjoy!
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Caitlin stepped out of the shower to empty quarters with the same flash of disappointment, hurt and ire that had become far too common the last few weeks. It wasn’t just that Calvin wasn’t here, but that she didn’t know where he was. It felt like she’d misplaced a part of herself.
Drying her long hair, the young woman stepped into their shared bedroom, staring at the empty bunk beds. She’d started doing that every morning, as if hoping to see if Calvin had slipped in while she’d been showering and she’d find him exhausted and asleep on his bunk.
On a nightstand was the bottle of pills she’d been using to help her sleep and keep the dreams away. She’d been hiding them at first, ashamed that she needed them at all. Now, she’d stopped even that pretense, perhaps daring Calvin to see them and confront her.
If that was what she’d been doing, it hadn’t worked. It might even have driven him further away.
With a fresh, boiling flash of anger, Caitlin grabbed a set of clothes from the closet as loudly as she could, rattling hangars and banging doors like she was trying to rudely wake up her imagined sleeping brother. She stormed out of their quarters towards the bridge for another single shift. Crew members who saw her coming ducked out of their leader’s path.
With only a passing nod at the interim officer who rose from Calvin’s command throne at her arrival, Caitlin barged into the office, only to find it empty. The surge of irrational anger faded quickly as she looked around, but there was no sign her brother had been here for hours. It was morning; he wouldn’t have gone to the gym and unless he woke much earlier than she had, she should have encountered him on her way to the bridge. Maybe she had missed him at he was at the commissary; she didn’t see him in the leaders’ mess these days. That pang of frustration for not knowing where he was rose up again, but she shoved it back down.
Caitlin paused by a chair piled with changes of clothes. His uniform was still here, but his sidearm and baton were not. She checked the computer, but there was nothing in scheduling to say where he’d gone, either.
Her ire was almost gone, replaced by a sudden, rising concern. Calvin was always quieter than her, but when you didn’t hear from him at all, that was when you should be most worried.
“Calvin…” she said to the empty room, as if she expected it to answer her, even as she had the flitting, irrational hope that it would.
“…where are you?”
~
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