-1-

Alex Haley feels a sense of longing in the bottom of his stomach as the cargo bus sweeps around Camp Harmony and on to the desolate road. The bus was carrying more than half the inmates at the camp back to the cities.

There would be another bus  in 2 months-- Felix and Marco would be on that one and then a few months after finally his own release would come. He’d never realized how homesick he had grown until this moment.

Turning his gaze away from the bus’s trail, Alex watches the three former inmates standing at attention next to St. John. They’d decided to stay behind and enlist in Ft. Harmony’s boot camp. Their enlisting had been at St. John’s encouragement—something Sgt. Maxwell would never admit to. The  men were non violent offenders and St. John had plied them with promises of money, respect and stability they’d never had.

He hadn’t mentioned the 5% bonus the officers received for every enlistee they conscript.

“You are dismissed for the day,” Maxwell says in a bored tone to St. John and his new enlistees.

They give him a salute and the moment their backs are turned Maxwell peers down at Haley and touches his lips to his. In the past couple of  weeks Haley had learned this was like a  game to Maxwell—small stolen touches in semi-public places where others could see if they turned around at the wrong moment.

So far he’d never been caught.

“It’s so  quiet, sir.” Haley says.

“Just the calm before the storm,” Maxwell responds.

“Since there is nothing pressing today, do you think….I mean--can I...call home ?,” Haley asks. 

Maxwell grits his teeth.

“Fine. You’ll only have 2 minutes before the RLA  recording bug kicks in,”

"I know, sir.” he says.

 

Maxwell nods and  without hesitation Haley walks to Maxwell’s office, where a communication station with a long distance switchboard had been set up. He quickly patches into Gram’s house.

“Alex ?,” Isla answers.

“Isla ?,”  he responds. “ What are you doing at Gram’s ?”

Isla had her own place from her marriage, she’d hardly stayed at Gram’s house except when she needed to use the laundry machine.

“I’m looking in on Gram and Mother. What the hell do you think ?,” she snapped. “Someone has to step up-- ”

There is a crashing sound in the background, followed by high pitched screaming and crying. Isla says something muffled to someone in the room with her.

“What’s was that ?,” he asks.

“The usual. Sky’s upset and  wants Ms. Rosie back--”

Alex feels a small pang of guilt. Ms. Rosie was the pink lamb they had put in the trunk when they’d sent his things to him.

“I’m sorry, I’ll mail her back--”

 

“Don’t,” Isla said.  “Sky put her in there for you. This is a lesson in sharing,”

He didn’t expect any different from her. His sister had always  been a little cold and her husband’s death hadn’t helped make her better. She could listen to her 3-year-old cry for hours and not bat an eye.

“Isla, I want to talk to Gram.”

 The line goes silent.

“Isla ? Are you there ?,” he asks

“I didn’t tell her, you know,” she says unsteadily. “About Harlow. They don’t know what happened to him.”

“It’s been two months!”

“I just think it’s better this way,” she says. “It’s just if Gram finds out she will do all  that expensive funeral bullshit. She’ll  tell us we should forgive him or something. I don’t want that.”

“That’s cruel,” he says.

“It’s not, Lex. It’s called mercy. She’s old and her heart can’t take it,” she says. “Don’t mention anything and we can tell her together once you’re out. Okay ? Deal ?”

“Fine.”

The volume dims and he can hear her having a quick exchange.

“Alex ?,”

“Gram--”

“Is someone hurting you ?,”

The question made him pause. He looks out the floor length window to see Maxwell  standing outside, hovering in a cloud of his own contraband smoke.

Was someone hurting him ? Technically, Maxwell had never laid a hand on him.

“No, of course not--”

“I’m being sent visions of ink  spilling from your soul and covering the house. I spoke to one of the priests about it, he thinks your body has been unconsecrated but we can pay to fix you--”

Haley closed his eyes and sighed. She was in one of her moods. Part of Gram's insanity  was from spending 40 years working at TempusWest where, after her retirement, they’d discovered the materials kept in the basement had been slowly poisoning everyone in the building. It left most of them with some deep psychological effects.

The other part was her recent devoutness to the fringe parishes of the  New Revolution Church who believed in paid indulgences and exorcisms and thought the rapid  melding of man with machine was a sin against God.

“I don’t need to be fixed, Gram.” Haley tells her calmly. “I didn’t do anything that night--”

“You should have stayed home with me ! I tried so hard with you to keep you closer” Gram continues.  “I  knew this was going to happen...the men in this family are consumed by demons of depravity and hedonism--”

“I know, Gram but, I don’t have a lot of time. How is--”

“It’s too late for Harlow. I see the devil in your brother and he’s giving it to you. I told your mother you should have been a girl, you’d have been such a pretty girl. Then maybe you’d have been more like your sister. Two boys in prison ! Do you have any idea what the neighbors are saying about me?”

“It’s going to be okay--”

“I know,” she says. “ I already put the payment down to have them excise that patch out of your brain and give you fresh brain tissue. You’ll have to stay at the church until it’s over because I can’t let you back in the house until it’s over--”

“Gram, I don’t want to do that--,”

“You have to. I can’t let you back here unless you do.”

Haley doesn’t know what to say to this. He wanted to yell at her but, he was still very  afraid of his grandmother. She’d tried this same  with his mother and it had left her with half her wits. She’d tried it with Harlow and he’d broken  his arm getting away.

There is a small back and forth on the other end and he hears Isla speaking in a gentle, patronizing tone before taking the phone.

“God, she’s batshit. You know that right ?  The Tempus crazies,” Isla says lightly.

“Isla, she’s wants to lobotomize me--”

“ I won’t let her, I’ll get  her money back,” Isla says. “ She’s just all worked up. She feels like she’s failing at  taking care of you. You’re not a parent so you don’t get it.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of anymore,” Haley reminds her. ” I’m an adult.”

“Barely. Remind me again who is in prison ?” she says sarcastically.

Haley looks at the time in the corner and the clock tips closer to 3  minutes.

“I have to go, Isla.”

“Call back. It will be better next time,” she says and hangs up.

The moment the line cuts out the door opens and Maxwell strolls into the office with an amused smile.

“One thing you should know about adults is they don’t tell people they are adults,” Maxwell tells him.

Of course he’d been listening in. Haley didn’t know why he suspected otherwise.

“I’m going out to dinner to enjoy my last night of sanity before the new men arrive,” Maxwell says. “You’re coming with me.”

“Out ?,” Haley asks.

There was no “out” in the camp. They were in the middle of the desert. 

“Yes,” Maxwell says. “Look nice.”

 

***

-2-

Maxwell knew he had an ego and he liked beautiful things to encourage his ego---no  matter how useless.

Every year since he’d started working he’d buy something disgustingly expensive just for himself. Then the next year he’d top it.   

It had started with $800 crystal glass set  and the current lead was the $15,000 bespoke suit. He'd purchased it after enlisting, knowing full well he'd hardly wear it. The deep onyx  material was softer than his usual RLA uniform. The silk red tie is cool against his neck, where a dark shadow of stubble was starting to appear.

 Maxwell admired himself in the mirror. Since enlisting his body was in the best shape it had ever been in. His muscle mass has almost doubled, his shoulders were broad, his chest more prominent.  His face told another story, the months of stress and sun left him looking older than he would have wanted.

A soft knock sounds on his door and Haley quickly comes in, closing the door behind him. He wore a pressed white shirt and gray pants, his clothes slightly too big for his body.  He looked cleaner than Maxwell had ever seen him. When he’d arrived at camp his face had been cut and bruised from his brother’s attack and since then he’d been covered in sweat and dirt. 

Maxwell’s eyes move up and down his body.

“You need a tie,” Maxwell finally says

He opens one of  his drawers and reaches into the back. He pulls out a black diamond patterned silver tie.

“I don’t think we wear the same  length--,” Haley starts

He is cut off as Maxwell stands in front of him and loops the tie gently through his collar. It falls to the perfect length.

“Did you buy this for me ?,” Haley asks, confused.

“No.” Maxwell cuts him off. “Let’s go,”

Maxwell leads the way to one of the RLA Jeeps and  pushes the car to over 200 miles an hour. The  RLA Radio News Source broadcasted death tolls and policy plans on the drive.  Neither say a word on the nearly two hour drive to the Elevation Train station.

The isolated train station was nothing more than a bank of elevators and a small platform with automats. A silver and black bullet train pulled in just as they reached the top floor.

“Where exactly are we going, sir ?,” Haley asks as they board the sterile train car.

“Corpus,” Maxwell responds.

As the train speeds along the rails, the monotony of the desert scenery outside is only broken up by the occasional Texan Remnant Site from the Serial Wars.

Maxwell’s grandfather had been  a bit of a war enthusiast and he’d visited many of the Remnant city ruins as a child; Minneapolis, Denver, Salt Lake City. Before the war the West was the center of technology and innovation, but after the war the Republican government feared tech and nuclear energy  power.

They’d never been able to rebuild everything without it, so the government moved the citizens closer to the LOLA sprawl, private companies built up select cities and the Neo-Luddites took the Northern territories. The rest was emptiness.

As the train  crowds Maxwell stands and Haley feels himself being pulled up by his wrist. Maxwell has one arm over his head on the railing and the other he lets fall to Haley’s waist, pulling him closer. As the train pulls off again, Maxwell’s hands wander down to tug on Haley’s belt. Haley instinctively, jerks away and before he can stumble back Maxwell grabs his arm, aggressively steadying him.

This was new to Haley. . Was he stupid for thinking this wasn’t going to go any farther ?

“Okay,” Maxwell says quietly,  his dark brown eyes staring down a him. 

Maxwell’s hands goes to the back of Haley’s neck and he slowly pulls out the band holding Haley's hair back. Maxwell runs his fingers through the light strands, arranging them around his delicate features.

Maxwell stares down at him with a dark expression as his warm lips make contact with his.

I wonder. A voice in the back of Haley’s head says.

I wonder.

This wasn’t want. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t anything disgusting or shameful. It was  just –

Curiosity.

 The windows flashed bright as light from the upcoming city assaulted them. The entire city seemed to be made of lights and holograms. Just beyond the simple skyline Haley could see the water rushing to the shore and through the city, lit from beneath with blue LEDS.

Maxwell slipped on his dark mirrorshades as they descended the train  platform. There were a few uniformed RLA officers and conscriptors milling around, but none of them question them. They are too busy being yelled at by a group of disorderly drunk women. Maxwell  walks briskly towards a small restaurant across from the station.

Haley could tell it was an expensive restaurant before they sat down. The decor of the restaurant was opulent and refined. A few couples in the back were wearing formal wear. He immediately wished he had dressed better. He should have known; Maxwell liked expensive things.

As they were seated Maxwell scrolled past the entire menu and tapped in a series of  nonsense letter and numbers into the menu screen before looking up at him.

Haley suddenly realized he was going to have to converse with Maxwell. They didn’t have conversations. Maxwell spoke in insults and commands ; his most personal one being ‘come here’, which meant undo my belt.

A waiter saunters to their table with a bottle of wine. Setting down two wine glasses she fills them with a dark black wine and leaves the bottle, New Rose Hotel Noir, with a slight incline of her head to Maxwell.

“Do not make me drink this all myself,” Maxwell says taking a sip.

“ What is this ?,” Haley asks, picking up the glass. Not bothering to explain he'd never had alcohol.

“Very expensive and very illegal port. Do you have a problem with that ?,”

Haley barely shakes his head and takes a drink. The wine taste earthy like coffee, but with something much sweeter and warming mixed in. Maxwell leans over,  placing  his elbow on the table, his hands cups Haley’s face, pushing back his hair before  pressing his tongue into his mouth

Maxwell’s voice is a low whisper.

“I’m very surprised no one has fucked you yet. Do you even see it ? Do you realize everyone in this restaurant is staring at you ?,”

Haley stiffens at Maxwell’s crudeness, but he shifts his head slightly to the left and while it doesn’t appear anyone is staring. He does catch a table of men and women suddenly snapping their heads down in unison. 

One of them is shaking their heads.

“….They’re probably staring because they thought I was your son.” Haley says without thinking.

“How fucking old do you think I am ?,” Maxwell says, sitting back, irritation on his voice,

“I- well, I only  meant your only a few years younger than my actual father…I think, anyway.” Haley adds. He had no idea how old Maxwell was.

“Father, huh ? I didn’t see a father in your file,” Maxwell says.

“....He was a minor when I was born. Gram didn’t want people to know so they never put it on the record.”

Maxwell tips his wine glass  and drains it.

“You come from one fucked up family," Maxwell says.

Haley doesn’t know how to take that. Maxwell’s tone didn’t seem mean, but he also didn’t sound like he was completely joking.

“Your father was drafted wasn’t he ?,” Maxwell asks. “That explains why you haven’t been drafted yet.”

Haley nods

“Is your father still alive ?,”

“I think so. I haven’t heard otherwise,”

“I assumed you weren’t close,” Maxwell says. “You never mentioned him when you bitch about calling home to talk to your mommy or sister.”

“He wasn't married to my mom and he’s… kind of  a loner,” Haley explains.  “He’s a mechanic now, but he used to be an addict. Since he got sober he has to work all the time or he’ll go back to using. He lives like a shut in, but he can fix anything. It’s probably why the RLA wanted him.”

“He’s probably not in danger, then.” Maxwell tells him. “They probably have him at their secure engineering bases building drones. He’ll likely never see combat."

“Have you seen combat ?,” Haley asks.

He knows the answer is yes, it’s the only way Maxwell could get the Purple Heart he'd seen. Instead of answering Maxwell refills both wine glasses.

The menu is expensive and Haley orders a cold soup while Maxwell orders the most expensive cut of steak on the menu. It arrives on a  plate still sizzling. When he slices into it a red juice pools out of the rare center.

Maxwell holds the fork to his lips and feels the temperature of the meat with his lip before reaching across the table and tipping to fork to Haley’s mouth.

“Open,” Maxwell says and he does. “You need to eat real food.”

When the check arrives Maxwell pays it before Haley can attempt to pay for his own meal. He does catch that the now empty bottle of wine was $500. Haley follows Maxwell, slightly buzzed, down the lighted streets.

When they reach a crowded block Maxwell pushes him against of a wall of a loud bar and kisses him violently, his hand grabbing a handful of his blonde hair. A few people whistle, which only makes him intensify the kiss.

I wonder. Haley thinks as Maxwell releases his hold and walks into the lounge.

-3-

The lounge is noisy, crowded and everyone inside looks like different versions of Maxwell—tall, beautiful and well dressed. It  is nothing like the lounges  he and Isla would go to drag Mother back home from. Everyone here was drinking, but no one appeared to be drunk or selling their bodies.

Maxwell leaves his coat at the coat check and walks to the marble bar where he takes a small tray lined with glasses from the bartender and finds two stools on the edge of the bar.

“I’m going to show you how to do a shot,” Maxwell says into his ear.

“Why ?”

“Because I like to watch,” he says plainly.

Maxwell picks a stainless silver shot glass up with just his lips and drains it with a tilt of his head before nodding for Haley to do the same.

He isn’t prepared for the burn of the of the liquor, it chokes him and he presses his lips together and the reaming shot spills down his chin.  The group of people  on the barstools near them start booing and his face flushes.

“People are watching us...” Haley says

“And ?,” Maxwell asks.

The second shot reaches a similar fate and Maxwell laughs as the group next to them boos again. Maxwell kisses him, licking the remnants off alcohol off his face.

The third and then the final one go down easier.

They sit in silence as Maxwell taps several messages into his Syndicate before leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to step away. Don’t even think about running”

The words were probably threatening, but to Haley they were just sound, more orders. Or something.

“Yessir,” he says out of habit, but his words are slurred.

As Maxwell stands Haley notices Maxwell’s tie is gone and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbow., making his body look even leaner.

Maxwell walks confidently to the far end of the bar and leaning over it, Maxwell talks to the bartender who immediately smiles. At this moment Maxwell doesn’t look  noble or authoritative like he usually does. He seems cool and carefree.

A woman comes up behind Maxwell and grazes his shoulder, she looks to the small dance floor that had started in the middle of the lounge. Leaving a hand on her waist Maxwell whispers to her before  shaking  his head. Once she is gone, he disappears into a hallway in the back of the lounge.

Haley’s world suddenly feels very sharp.

He really could run now.

The thought is so fleeting and before he can fully consider it Maxwell is back next to him. He orders another round of drinks and they find a  seat on a circle of chairs near a water feature in the bar’s outdoor patio.

 It’s quieter outside and Maxwell starts up a conversation with a small group and a couple sitting beside them. Haley feels a losing battle with reality and   is  only dimly aware they are all lawyers or RLA officials and talking about politics and policy, but can’t remember anything more beyond that.

Maxwell’s voice is different; his language is softer and more educated. His arm is tight across Haley’s chest, but he didn’t speak or acknowledge him. He half wondered if he was invisible.

“Bullshit,” Maxwell’s voice shakes Haley out of a stupor.

 Haley is suddenly aware he has no idea how much time had passed.

 “The 2099 Republica Report showed that half of the fucking Western Republic Police force was on the payroll of cartels,” Maxwell says to the group.  “At least the RLA’s force isn’t crooked--”

“Not working for cartels doesn’t make you not crooked,” a loud blonde women counters. “There was that Hill vs. State case that proves those RLA assholes have arrest quotas--”

“—only in the Sprawls,” Maxwell adds. “Where let’s face it they fucking need it.”

“What are you some kind of RLA lobbyist ?” a dark haired man says with a laugh

“I’m an adjunct at a college,” Maxwell lies. “I only get the RLA News.”

“The crap channel ? It’s propaganda bullshit from the RLA.” an older man spits. ”You ever notice how they  never report on the soldier deaths ? They used to do that--”

“Maybe there aren’t enough worth reporting on,” Maxwell argues.

Haley’s head is  on Maxwell’s chest, and he knows if he unbuttoned just a few more buttons on Maxwell’s shirt he’d blow Maxwell's cover; they’d see the RLA tattoos covering his body.  The thought of doing that seems funny to him, but he doesn’t.

His delirium increases with every sip of the drink Maxwell holds to his lips. When he refuses to drink anymore Maxwell kisses him, but this kiss is sloppy. Maxwell doesn’t seem like he ever wants to leave. He and his new friends discuss everything; cybernetic restrictions, art, tech, foreign policy, and even harvest centers. When they mention the harvest centers Haley starts listening again.

Most of his family had been to one when they needed money, including himself. He’d even worked in one.

“This government keeps those people  poor  and then forces them to give up their fucking body parts for money,” a woman sipping a pink drink says. “They pretend it’s regulated, but it’s not. And the organs don’t even stay here they get exported to the Eastern United State. ”

“Well, it’s a good thing the RLA is fighting the EUS to stop some of that mandatory exporting.” Maxwell says to a chorus of groans.

“It’s still a fucked up system,” she says. “Putting a price on organs is part of the reason the Republic is a mess. How can you support something so barbaric.”

“I don’t.” Maxwell says. “I think it’s fucked up and deplorable, but the people who live in those places are the helpless dumbfucks society has to figure out how to deal with. They'll do it whether the law lets them or not. They aren’t educated enough to know better.”

Haley doesn’t remember making the decision but he gets up to walk away.

Or atleast he tries to.

He is struck by  nauseating vertigo  and in an attempt to  balance almost pitches forward into the water feature.  Maxwell catches him around the waist and they walk away from the group and into an empty corner inside the lounge. 

“Don’t be so fucking sensitive,” Maxwell says. “I wasn’t talking about you,”

“It’s so dark in here,” Haley says as a dark shadow casts over his vision.

“No, it’s not,” Maxwell tells him. “You’ve had too much to drink. I think it’s time to go.”

Maxwell reaches into his pocket and takes out a small case of syringes.

Was that where Maxwell had gone earlier ? To get drugs ?

“Is this Clarity--”

“No,” Maxwell says pulling one syringe out. “It’s testosterone. It  will keep my awake to drive us back  In case you’ve forgotten we have work tomorrow.”

 Maxwell pushes the syringe into his own arm , pulls it out and injects the remnants into Haley’s arm. Haley's skin crawls watching Maxwell  push  the used needle into his arm, but he is too slow to react.

“Are you ready to go ?” Maxwell asks.

“Yes, sir.”

 

---

-4-

Maxwell forgot how much he liked being seen. He forgot how much he liked debating with people at his level. It made him horny. He didn’t want to go back to babysitting morons.

Pulling Haley behind him he walks back to the train station. When they are within a few steps of the station elevator Haley stops in the middle of the crowded sidewalk.

“I’m tired,” he says in a soft whine, covering his eyes with both of his hands. “Everything is spinning.”

“You’re just a little drunk,” Maxwell tells him. Or atleast he hoped that’s all he was.

Haley drops to his knees on the cement and lays down on the street. People walking by pause to look at him and  Maxwell  notices a uniformed RLA cop coming their way. He quickly pulls Haley up and half carries/half walks him to the train. These were not the kind of stares Maxwell wanted.

The cars on the train are mostly empty, but Maxwell puts Haley in his lap, and  pushes the mess of blonde hair off his damp forehead.

“Do not go to sleep, Haley,” Maxwell orders. "I'm not sure you'll wake back up."

“I’m hot,” Haley slurs, hooking his elbow around Maxwell’s neck.

“What do you mean?,” Maxwell asks kissing him. Was it pathetic that this was turning him on ?

“It’s hot,” Haley says, sitting up so he is straddling Maxwell’s laps, his head pressed into Maxwell's shoulder.

“Stop it,” Maxwell says.

“I don’t…It’s so damn hot…I w....” Haley says, his words sounding like drunk nonsense. His hips grind slowly against Maxwell’s lap and Maxwell isn’t sure how long he can pretend he doesn’t like it.

Maxwell wasn’t interested taking his subordinate’s innocence or morals. All he wanted was a pretty face to be seen with in public  and the occasional handjob so he didn’t have to do it  himself like a lonely teenager.

Maxwell knew better than to actually jerk off his subordniate. Especially when he was clearly, very drunk.

But he did it anyways. Haley clumsily removed his own belt and when he pulled it off and looped it around Maxwell’s neck, he lost it all his restraint.

“It’s so h--”

His voices catches when he feels Maxwell’s touch.

The train car was empty, but being in a semi-public place gave Maxwell as familiar thrill.  Haley wasn’t like Cassia—she’d been a screamer. Haley’s body held back for longer than Maxwell would have thought until  his breathing stopped almost completely. Haley closed his eyes tight and Maxwell pulled his hand away. When Haley's eyes opened his light pupils were dialated and damp at the corners. A pink flush covered his face.

“Fuck,” Maxwell sighs as Haley slumped back into the seat

 

***

I’m sober

 

I’m sober

 

I’m  so fucking sober.

 

Maxwell couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drunk, if ever. He’d  purchased a bevy of drugs from his dealer while at the bar. The testosterone was wearing off and he’d taken a hit of the Clarity when Haley wasn’t looking, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t keep track of the paved road and was sure they were riding on the sand.

A part of  him wasn’t sure he could make it back to Camp before passing out.  Haley’s hand was clinched on his arm and his glassy eyes were transfixed on the speedometer.

“I....needtogetout,” Haley says him, the slur in his words worse somehow.

“I can’t stop.”

He knew if he stopped he wouldn’t be able start driving again.

“I feel sick,” he says quietly. "Please, pull over. Please."

“No,” Maxwell says, swerving to avoid a road sign.

No one knew they were out here. If the car crashed, they’d probably die from dehydration in hours with how inebriated they were.

“We’re almost there,” Maxwell adds calmly.

He doesn’t register Haley’s seatbelt unclicking before it’s too late, Haley reaches for the emergency break and Maxwell takes his hands off the wheel to push him back into his seat. The car didn’t have an autopilot and it pings the side of a light pole before bouncing back on to the road.

So, that’s where the road was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!,” Maxwell yells. “Have you lost your god damn mind ?”

Haley goes silent. Maxwell can hear him breathing so he doesn’t apologize. He just drives faster. When they arrived at the Camp Harmony gates Maxwell feels a weight off his shoulder.

This had been a very stupid idea.

“I can’t walk,” Haley says once the Jeep is parked in the garage.

“Get out of the fucking car,” Maxwell ordered.

“I can’t,” he responds, his voice getting sleepier.

“Alex, get out of the fucking car now. That’s an order.”

“You know my first name ?,” he laughs quietly. “I don’t know yours…or do I ?”

 “You aren’t going to like me if I have to come in there and get you. I’m still your superior, I can still punish you--”

“I don’t care.” 

“Come on”

“I want to sleep here.”

“No. You can sleep in my bed tonight, ” Maxwell says and a devious thought comes to his mind. “Maybe I’ll make you come again.”

“No.”

“Fuck,” Maxwell curses to himself

He knows St. John could be monitoring the camp’s  infrared sensors and Maxwell didn’t need him stumbling into this scene. Maxwell opens the passenger side door and loops Haley’s arms around his neck and carries him on his back to his private quarters.

Slamming the door to his quarters he drops him onto his bed.

Maxwell opens his mini fridge to pull out two bottles of water, when he turns around Haley is lying on his bed, unbuttoning his shirt.  Maxwell had seen him naked body before, but he was still surprise by how athletic he looked for how weightless he seemed.

“You need to hydrate to sober up,” Maxwell  says throwing the water bottle at him.

“I’m hot,” Haley says again as he pulls his pants off. “Are you going to punish me now ?”

Maxwell gets on his knees on the bed and pulls Haley up by his hair until they were eye to eye.

“Is that what turns you on ?,” Maxwell asks. He could see in the vacant look in his eyes that  Haley was drunk and this would be the only time he’d get an honest answer. “You like to be a petulant little bitch and then getting  punished ? Are you  not the innocent boy I thought you were ?,”

Haley’s eyes dimmed and he seemed to be having a moment of awareness. He turns away and then looking back up takes a fistful of Maxwell’s $400 tie and kisses him.  It was the first time he’d initiated a kiss and it was a terrible kiss; sloppy and timid.

Maxwell pulls his own shirt off and wrestles Haley down on the bed with a kiss. When their bare skin made contact it felt hot as fire. 

A voice in Maxwell’s head told him to stop.

But he was horny. He was drunk and high on Clarity and arrogance. And he wanted to fuck.

Maxwell hadn’t had sex since he enlisted and it was a new experience in his post-RLA body. Even in the fog of alcohol he felt stronger and more powerful. He admired the way hard Adonis line on his waist works as he --

Damnnit

What the fuck was he doing ?

In a moment of clarity he saw a fistful of matted blonde hair was gripped in his left hand. He’s suddenly very aware he’s fucking his subordinate, who was technically a prisoner. Worse, he was a teenager.

Shit.

But Maxwell couldn’t stop. It feels so good and he was so close and  Haley wasn't  fighting him so instead he moves faster. Fucking until he is breathless and panting and his body is covered in sweat. After what feel like hours  he finishes with an uncontrollable guttural sound and a blissful satisfaction comes over him.

When he pulls out he sees that he’d actually managed to remember protection in his drunken state.

He also sees  blood

“Fuck,” Maxwell pants. He fumbles to his  dresser for a handkerchief and wipes the blood away from Haley's thigh.

“Haley ?,” he repeats to silence. "Haley."

Fear gripped Maxwell at the thought that he'd smothered him to death and he shakily turns Haley’s face around

"Fuck. Please....wake up," Maxwell says louder. He lightly slaps his face to no response.

Shit.

With a gnawing guilt growing in his stomach he pressed two fingers to Haley's bruise stained neck.

 

***

Maxwell is awoken by the retching.

Sitting up he can see Haley is awake and draped over the toilet in his cubicle bathroom. Maxwell attempts to stand and his entire body aches in protest. There are bruises and scratches on his back, chest and forearms and he has to pop his artificial knee back into place before he can walk.

He’d missed his  morning workout, but he’s glad he hadn’t overslept the entire day.

He pulls a towel over his waist and walks into the tiny bathroom. He bends down and slowly pulls the front pieces of Haley’s hair out of the toilet as he continues to vomit black liquid.

“You need to drink water,” Maxwell says turning on the shower.

Haley only nods his head as Maxwell steps into the shower. The room barely fits one person and when he is done showering Maxwell drags Haley into the shower so he has room to look into his mirror. There are scratches near his hairline.

“I want you to hide out here today,” Maxwell says washing his face and covering it with a soft cream.

His only response is a cough and the sound of Haley vomiting in his shower.

 Maxwell runs a straight razor over his stubble and rinses his face again.

“I don’t get it,” Haley finally says.

“I--well--you blacked out last night. I let things go too far,” Maxwell explains  putting the razor out of his trembling hand. “How much do you remember ?,”

Maxwell hopes nothing.

Haley stands up and Maxwell notices he is wearing one of his t-shirts. Haley unclenches his fist to reveal the bloody hankerchief he'd used to wipe away Haley's blood only hours ago.

“Why do you have this ?,” Haley asks. “Where did you get this ?”

Maxwell doesn’t know how to respond.

"Throw that out," Maxwell orders.

Haley unravels the edge of the handkerchief to reveal the saltire  and a scripture on one side and the name Alexander Samuel Haley carefully embroidered on the edge.

“My grandmother gave this to me. I thought I lost it years ago...but you had it.” he says. 

Maxwell closes his eyes. He hadn't meant to use that handkerchief.

He’d gotten it  that day in the hospital when Haley had gently wiped his face with it. Maxwell had been so weak and helpless in that moment in the hospital and Haley had been kind. When he saw the handkerchief had been left he’d had one of the nurses clean the handkerchief and he told himself he’d give it back if Haley ever came back to the hospital.

But he never came back. So Maxwell had held on to it.

It sounded so pathetic now.

Maxwell did the only thing he could do, the thing he liked to do when he felt vulnerable; he shut down.

“Shut up and go back to bed. You look like you've been fucked and I don't need anyone at camp to seeing you like that . I need to get ready, it’s a busy day today.”

“When did you take this from me ?,” Haley demanded standing. “Tell me.”

“We’re not drunk anymore. You don’t get to demand things from me!” Maxwell shouted pushing him out the bathroom.

“Why--,”

“I didn’t take it,” he barked. “You gave it to me.  Why don’t you think about why you can’t seem to fucking remember that.”

----------

A/N

 The hardest thing about writing Haley and Maxwell in third person is that I can't use the pronouns he or him because it's not always obvious who I'm talking about.

Also, Maxwell needs to take some classes in driving drunk from NA!Seraphina