Taylor: Part III

"Do you ever get overwhelmed by how large the universe is and how it keeps expanding?" Taylor asked, pointing at the gray, overcast sky.

He and Ashley lay sprawled on the asphalt pavement, feet pointing different directions while their heads touched. They'd finished their joints awhile ago, leaving Taylor relaxed and content.

Ashley hummed. "Nope. I never had time to ponder those things. In California, I was always on the move with photography and fitness. It gave me a sense of purpose after my divorce."

Taylor tried to face her, but flopped back to his position when the world lurched. "You were married?"

"Only for two years," she drawled. "It wasn't a good match." Ashley didn't elaborate; her tone made it clear she hadn't been happy, and the topic wasn't open to discussion.

"I'm sorry I didn't try to find you," Taylor murmured.

Ashley sighed. "It was a long time ago. You were already estranged from your parents by then."

Her words curdled inside Taylor's stomach. He'd lost so many years of what could have been, all because he'd been his most authentic self. Dad seemed more supportive now, but nothing could fix the chasm the incident had created. Mom was gone, and Taylor didn't know how to speak to Dad.

Silence passed between them as the air gradually warmed and the sun rose higher in the sky, hidden behind a blanket of clouds. The wind bit his bare arms, but he hardly noticed the chill. Feet slapped the ground nearby, followed by heavy breathing as people jogged. A child giggled somewhere nearby, most likely out to play before the oncoming winter.

His thoughts drifted lazily — like someone on a pool lounger during a hot summer day — until they collided with old images of his dad teaching him to ride a bike or carrying him on his shoulders when they went to the zoo. All the times they laughed together rang clearly in his mind like they'd happened yesterday.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked once he was sure he wouldn't croak.

"What do you mean?"

Ugh, how could he articulate his thoughts when words suddenly failed him? Stupid weed. Taylor rubbed his face. "Like... You and I haven't seen each other in years, yet you never left my family. The apocalypse happens, and here we are again."

Except for Mom. She suffered in a lab somewhere because Dad couldn't accept the loss. For all his faults, Taylor couldn't hate the man for clinging to hope. He might have done the same for any of his friends, exhausting every resource until death was the final option.

Ashley repositioned herself so they lay side by side. Then, she rested her hands on her flat belly and drew one leg up, planting her foot on the ground. "I don't know what I believe. Your dad funded this project after what happened t—"

She paused, seeming to stop herself from mentioning Mom. Not giving Taylor a chance to interrupt, she recovered and adjusted her words. "Anyway, the day they virus got out, we had an outbreak here with the influx of survivors. Despite the chaos, John stayed on everyone's butts to get you here. He's wanted to reach out for a long time, but he's too stubborn to say he's missed you. Just so you know, he would have moved Heaven and Hell to get you here."

Too bad Dad hadn't tried before the world ended. Every year, Taylor had called his parents on the holidays, only for his attempts to be met with a text from his mother wishing him a good holiday, or silence altogether. Part of him wanted to blame her for not stopping Dad from kicking him out. However, his anger had been directed at the childhood hero who'd let him down.

Jaw clenched, he considered Ashley's words. Dad had been trying, but Taylor would have to release years of pain and resentment to forgive him. Confusion would replace the anger — any trust and close bond they'd shared would never be the same, leaving an incurable emotional scar. How did one let that go?

Taylor swallowed hard and changed the subject. "What about Benson? How did he come into the picture? Why do we have a council?" This was the information he'd wanted anyway, the pieces to a much larger puzzle that suggested a conspiracy long in the making.

Ashley lifted her arm and swayed her hand as if she were painting the sky. Back and forth, she moved until Taylor grew dizzy. Her response took forever before she finally dropped her arm to the ground with a soft thud. "I'm not sure. Everything seemed to happen overnight."

The weed seemed to have finally done its work, slowing Ashley's movement and speech.

As for Taylor, his body wanted to float away, high in the sky until he reached the clouds and stayed there where the Soapies couldn't reach him. Thinking about what he'd been so focused on suddenly didn't seem important, but who knew when he'd have another chance to ask?

"Hey, Ash?"

"Hm?"

Resting his good hand behind his head, Taylor rolled his shoulders, swaying to his own rhythm on the ground without a care in the world. Maybe this line of questioning wasn't so bad. Even if he heard something he didn't want to know, he wouldn't care while in such a relaxed state. "Benson."

She giggled. "What about him?"

Whoops. He'd just said the dude's name. He snorted as he angled himself to face Ashley, who propped herself on her elbows. "I mean, how did he get here? Where did the council come from?"

"Oh, right." She clutched Taylor's sleeve to pull herself up, nearly taking him down. Once she was sitting cross-legged, she tapped her chin. "I never thought about the council. I figured it came about as a result of the government falling apart. And Benson?" Ashley shrugged. "I guess right before the outbreak."

"Does he give you weird vibes?" Taylor prodded, trying and failing not to be drawn in by the clouds resembling a dragon and a dog locked in battle.

"You mean because of the rumors?" Ashley pursed her lips. "I don't know. He leaves me alone, but I've heard stories. As a woman, I can say if several complain about the same man, it would behoove you to listen. We don't bitch about the same thing for funsies."

Finally, an explanation that made sense. Jayson never said why he didn't like Benson, but he'd become increasingly erratic until he'd been forced to leave. Monica and Rivera had both mentioned something though, and Ashley was the first to clarify in a way Taylor could understand and accept. He might not know what Benson was up to, but Taylor could make a better decision. A choice that started with waiting for the high to wear off so he could access that flash drive the creepy psychologist was so keen on remaining encrypted.

Pushing himself up, Taylor wobbled as the world tilted sideways. Ashley soon joined him, more steady on her feet as if accustomed to the side effects. Linking arms, they slowly made their way inside, nodding at the smirking sentries on guard duty. Along the way, Ashley waved at people she knew, bouncing with each step.

When they reached her quarters, they departed with a squishy hug and a promise to meet again. The doors swooshed closed behind her, leaving Taylor to the empty hallways once more.

Arriving at his own unit, Taylor found the space empty. Not that he'd expected anyone, but sometimes, he longed for company, even if it came in the form of Dad annoying him. Taylor wrinkled his nose at the thought. Okay, maybe not that desperate — the cannabis was giving him strange ideas.

Probably for the best. He wasn't sure what Dad's stance was on weed. One would think he'd be progressive like every other Californian, but the guy barely tolerated the LGBTQ community. Better to wash off and hide the evidence.

After struggling with wrapping his arm and shower without falling, he turned the bag covering his cast inside-out and tossed his reeking clothes inside. Fumbling to wrap a towel around his waist, he stumbled into his room, stuffed his clothes under the bed, and flopped onto the mattress face-first. Then he buried his cheek into the cool pillow and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, something climbed his arm, like a phantom tendril in the dark grazing the skin. He bolted upright with a squeak, prompting Diego's hearty laugh.

Where had he come from?

Taylor briskly rubbed his arm to remove the tingling sensation as he scowled at his boyfriend. "The hell, dude? You scared me!"

With no attempt to appear decently ashamed, Diego cupped Taylor's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. A doofy grin plastered the other man's face as he held Taylor's good hand. "You were snoring pretty hard. I considered slapping that ass, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me doing that without consent. This was me going for a gentle approach."

Taylor couldn't decide if he should be flattered, annoyed, embarrassed, or giddy. As Diego said the words, his mischievous eyes flashed to Taylor's very underdressed state — the towel had come undone at some point, prompting a burst of fire across Taylor's cheeks. But the last part, that bit about consent, made him want to melt into a happy, gooey puddle. Diego invited feelings of bliss. Safety. Home.

His heart stuttered as he examined those emotions, and his face fell. This was happening too fast.

Curiosity and concern gleamed behind Diego's dark eyes. "Leoncito, what's wrong?"

A strong urge to flee burned in Taylor's limbs. Taking a deep breath, he waited for his nerves to calm before speaking again. "Sorry. It's a silly thought I had."

"Is it?" Diego scooted closer, touching their knees together. "You were smiling, and then you looked like someone shot your dog."

That was one way to put it. "I'd rather not talk about it," he mumbled, averting his gaze.

A beat of silence pulsed between them, palpable as a heart's steady thump. Then, "Do you want to break up with me?"

Taylor gasped. That was the last thing he wanted. Shaking his head, his words tumbled from his mouth fast than he could comprehend them. "No, nothing like that. It was the opposite."

Diego frowned. "So you're upset we're together? I think I'd prefer the breakup speech."

Laughter bubbled inside Taylor's chest. When a snort escaped and Diego widened the space between them, Taylor grabbed his sleeve. "Wait, that came out wrong. I meant that I'm scared of how fast we're going." He deflated the moment the words came out, and he sighed. "Every time I start to care about someone — really care..." He released Diego's arm and waved his hand for emphasis. "My relationships fall apart. I don't know if I self-destruct or if that's when people realize how weird I am and run, but..."

He stopped, unable to continue. The realization was too fragile, to share. What if his admission scared Diego away?

Lips curving into a smile, Diego leaned close and brushed their lips together. "I'll be honest and say I felt that way when we arrived. I didn't know you, yet I wanted to make you happy. Unlike your friends, I'm not big on sharing feelings; I internalize. Even now, we hardly know each other, but I can see a future with us. That terrifies and thrills me at the same time."

Oh, thank God. At least he understood. Emitting a soft chuckle, Taylor pressed his forehead to Diego's. "Then... let's acknowledge we care while taking things slow." He wasn't ready to imagine a future in a world of Soapies.

"You're overthinking this," Diego replied, running his fingers through Taylor's hair. "I'm not asking for vows. Let's enjoy the moment and let things progress naturally."

Taylor nodded, kicking himself for freaking out over something so silly. As he slid off the bed, Diego joined him from behind, wrapping his arms around Taylor's chest and waist.

"Since when do you go to sleep naked?" Diego nuzzled Taylor's neck, sending tingles racing through his veins. When Diego's hand traveled lower, Taylor moaned, receiving a breathy laugh in response. "I want to take you right here."

Taylor wouldn't offer an argument there. He spun around and guided Diego back to the bed, losing himself in bliss without any cares in the world.

When they resurfaced later and dressed, Taylor entered the living area and frowned. "Where's Dad?"

Diego passed him and entered the kitchen. "He probably stayed late with his duties again." Rummaging through the pantry and cabinets, he set dried food and dishes on the counter, talking as he worked. "John rarely returns at the end of the shift. He doesn't tell me about his activities in his spare time."

Or Dad was avoiding him. Taylor hadn't been very nice lately.

Rocking back and forth on his heels, Taylor glanced around the room. The occasional dish clanked against the counter as Diego worked in silence. Feeling awkward standing with nothing to do, Taylor asked, "Do you need help? What time is it anyway?"

Diego whirled around with a grin and folded his arms across his broad chest. "It's late enough most people are having dinner in the chow hall. And you can help me clean up the leftovers after dinner."

With a naughty wink, he resumed his work, leaving Taylor to interpret that innuendo. Once he realized his boyfriend meant to have sex involving food, Taylor blushed and went to his room to retrieve the flash drive he'd taken from Dad's office. Much as he wanted to believe Benson had been genuine during their appointment, his brain nagged at him to seek the truth. Not for humanity but for Mom and Jeannie. For everyone who'd been affected and lost loved ones to the virus.

The drive sat buried beneath a pair of cargo shorts in his drawer. Grabbing it, he went back into the kitchen and grabbed some dried apples, tearing open the bag with his teeth. Ravenous, he stuffed a few pieces of fruit into his mouth before approaching Dad's room and trying the unlocked door.

"What are you doing?" Diego asked from the kitchen.

"Being nosy, I guess." More like curious and a little nervous. He certainly wouldn't be happy if Dad had snooped through his things. But now Taylor was here, he wanted to see what his behind closed doors.

Flicking on the light and peeking inside, Taylor's heart clenched. On the nightstand were pictures: Mom and Dad's wedding, a family photo they'd taken on vacation to France, and a candid shot of Taylor, pulling a face at the camera with a jar of peanut butter in his hands. Next to the frames sat a figurine of a lion, the toy Dad had bought for him at a zoo when Taylor was seven.

"I wondered what happened to this," he whispered, picking up the knickknack and holding it to his chest. All this time, his father had kept it. Maybe he'd missed his son after all.

Other mementos representing a life that no longer existed rested on the different surfaces — Mom's statue of Jesus Christ, an old photo album, and Dad's Bible.

Passing through the clean room, Taylor settled at Dad's secondary computer and turned it on. He made quick work of bypassing the security before inserting the flash drive. In the zone, his mind homed in on his task, tuning everything else out.

Shortly into his work, Dad's soft voice filled the room. "What are you doing?"

Taylor jumped and spun in his chair, biting his lip as he stared at the floor. He hadn't anticipated Dad's return so early. When the older man cleared his throat, Taylor met his gaze. Standing there with his hands by his sides, Dad watched him with a slightly elevated eyebrow.

It was too late to hide the truth; Dad was a technological genius. He'd know within minutes what his son had been attempting. The question was how much trouble Taylor would be in if his father couldn't be trusted.

Resting his hand in his lap, Taylor shrugged. "I'm looking for answers."

"For what?" Dad moved closer, never breaking eye contact. "Does this have something to do with our recent breach?"

Crap. Itching the back of his neck, Taylor quietly asked, "Have you known this whole time?"

Dad's mouth curved into a conspiratorial smile. "You're the only person in this facility who could hack your way into a government system blindfolded and cover your tracks. I recall you doing just that when you were fifteen. What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

Oh, yeah... That had been a lark until the feds came knocking on their door. He'd been lucky to avoid jail time, and the incident scared him back to the straight and narrow path until now.

Too late to deny his activities, Taylor did his best to explain without implicating Monica. He rarely made eye contact even when telling the truth, so his father might not suspect him of lying if he stayed close to the facts. "I've been wondering about this facility and the research involved." Light sweat coated his forehead, and he fought the urge to drag his sleeve across his face. "Accessing your office wasn't hard; my biometric imprint was already in the system, so I used it."

"Late at night when no one was looking?" Dad scrutinized him with piercing blue eyes — just like Taylor's — and tilted his head. "You could have asked and saved yourself the trouble of potentially being caught."

But could I trust you?

With a shrug, he mumbled, "You might have said no."

Dad shook his head and released a heavy sigh. Then he stood and motioned for Taylor to vacate the chair. "I don't know what else I can do to prove myself."  His nose twitched as his voice heightened in pitch. Trading places with his son, he claimed the now empty seat and faced the screen, tapping furiously at the keyboard. "I didn't go through all this trouble to bring you here just to screw you over. I sent a retrieval team..." More aggressive typing, "because I care. I messed up all those years ago, and there's no absolution for my actions that night, but I want more than anything to have our relationship back."

Dad's words cut deeper than a knife. All this time, Taylor had wanted the same thing. It didn't matter that the older man had hurt him; all he wanted was to be accepted.

Unable to conceal his emotions any longer, Taylor came behind his father and awkwardly wrapped him in a one armed hug. A lump clogged his throat as his thoughts scattered like marbles in a ring. There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn't.

Dad stiffened, but before Taylor could move away, the typing stopped as his hand curled around his son's. He drew several deep breaths before releasing Taylor's arm and resuming his work at the keyboard, bypassing the encryptions like they were nothing more than annoying pop-ups.

Taylor finally let go and took a seat at the corner of the bed, crossing his legs while he watched Dad focus on the screen. The screen illuminated his features, casting him in a soft glow of white and blue light. His brow, lowered in concentration, shot upright as he sucked in a sharp breath and stopped typing. "Bloody hell," he breathed, closing his fists over the keyboard.

Providing no explanation, he snatched the flash drive from its port and bolted from his chair.  He pocketed it and rushed to the door, speaking over his shoulder, "Stay here with Diego, and don't talk to anyone. I'll be back."

Just like that, Taylor was left alone, dying to know what Dad had found in those encrypted files. And damn it if he still couldn't figure out what everyone was hiding. This was supposed to be his discovery, and the old man had gone and stolen his thunder, taking all the answers with him.

Groaning, Taylor sprawled onto his back and cursed.