CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ONCE A HEALER…

Jason blinked and stood staring at his now empty hand. “Well, that was unexpected,” he said ironically.

Eroica gave a low moan, leaning his head against one arm. He was so dazed and exhausted that he did not even realize Jason was there or that his attacker had fled. As far as he knew, this was just another pause in the violence. Maybe if he were lucky, he would pass out.

Jason looked down at the helpless individual lying prostrate at his feet, the physician in him fighting with his rage.

The physician won.

“Oh, Dorian. What did he do to you?” Jason whispered as he knelt beside his battered friend. He started to pull up the thief’s underwear, causing him to jump, a muffled cry of fear escaping him. “I’m pulling them up, not down,” he said soothingly.

Finally, Eroica recognized the voice and twisted around to look at him. Then he realized that the lights in the room were on and wondered why he had failed notice this before.

Jason reached over to remove the gag and was puzzled when Dorian flinched away. Then he noticed how unfocused the man’s eyes were, his pupils fully dilated. Has he been drugged? “Don’t be afraid, Dorian. It’s me, Jason,” he said gently as he removed the cloth from his friend’s mouth.

“Jason…?” Eroica looked around, but found he could not focus properly. The room around him as well as the figure beside him were just a blur of color. “Are we back to square one?” he asked bitterly.

Jason gave him a bewildered look. “What?” He untied the rope securing Eroica’s hands to the table, allowing him to turn onto his side. At the same time, he took in the bruises blossoming all over his friend’s body.

“Just kill me and get it over with.”

“Dorian, it’s me, Jason.”

“How do I know you didn’t just change again?”

Jason was struggling to untie the knot on the rope binding Dorian’s hands together while struggling to understand what he was talking about. He was not succeeding with either. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the same Jason Krystovan you met seven years ago.”

“The same Jason Krystovan?”

“Yes. Do we have to go through all that again?” Jason stopped struggling with the knot a moment to sit back and look at him.

Eroica met the Alterran’s questioning gaze as best he could. “No. Just kiss me.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. If you’re the same Jason—”

“My God, Dorian, don’t you ever quit?” the incredulous Jason exclaimed. To his bewilderment, he saw relief wash over Dorian’s face, his body relaxing visibly at the same time.

“It is you,” Eroica said in a relieved sigh, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “He…it looked just like you,” he explained shakily, “before he changed into that…that…” He gave way to an involuntary shudder. “But his eyes were green. They changed to green, and you can’t do that.”

Jason was genuinely surprised. “You remembered that about me after nearly four years?”

“Yes.”

“I am suitably impressed.”

“You should be flattered,” Eroica said without thinking. He had not meant it to sound like a petulant remark, but it still seemed to come out as one. To his relief, Jason apparently realized this and said simply, “I am.”

The Alterran Healer held off the hundreds of questions that were filling his mind. The battered man on the floor beside him was in no condition for an interrogation. He finally got the knot untied, freeing his friend’s hands. “Here, let’s finish getting you put back together,” he said gently. He started to pull the thief’s trousers up to where they belonged, stopping when Dorian’s body went rigid and his hands moved to stop him, a sharp cry of “No!” escaping him.

“Dorian, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jason said mildly. “I would never hurt you.”

Eroica closed his eyes again and nodded, allowing his friend to continue. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“You’re just scared out of you mind,” Jason said, his gentle tone unchanged. He finished redressing his friend as best he could and then squeezed one of his hands. “I’m going to look after you.” He gave Dorian a searching look. “Do you believe me?”

“What?”

“Do you believe me?” Jason repeated. “Considering what you’ve just told me, I want to make absolutely sure I know where I stand.”

Eroica smiled weakly. “Yes, I believe you.”

“Good.” The Alterran started to move what was left of the thief’s shirt out of the way, causing him to jump. Don’t react. Don’t say anything. He’s jumpy enough as it is.

“Dorian, look at me,” Jason said firmly, receiving an unfocused look in response. “I need to look at your face, okay?” He put a hand under his friend’s chin as though he were examining the bruises on his face and the mark on his neck. Instead, he was looking at his eyes and scanning him. He found no drugs in his system, but detected a great deal more than he expected, anger passing over his face like a dark cloud.

“As soon as you can stand, I need to get you to the infirmary, or whatever they call it in this place,” Jason said, waving a hand in the air. “Then we can play—” He broke off and sighed heavily. “Now you’ve got me doing it.”

Eroica scowled. “Doing what?”

Jason gave a small smile. “I was going to say play doctor, but I don’t think the obvious double entendre is appropriate just now.”

Eroica gave another weak smile before he shakily closed his trousers and refastened his belt. Then he looked at his shirt. Part of the material was torn and all of the buttons seem to have been pulled off and were probably halfway across the room. “I think this is a lost cause.”

Jason smiled briefly, helping his friend to sit up before sitting down beside him. The last thing the obviously traumatized Dorian needed was to be rushed. He needed to take this at his own pace, and Jason was perfectly willing to give him as much time as he needed. When Dorian was ready, he would help him from the room.

“I can’t stop shaking,” Eroica said quietly. He looked down at his trembling hands, finally wrapping his arms around his body as though hugging himself.

“Don’t try. It’s an adrenaline response,” Jason informed quietly. He looked around. “Where’s your suit coat?”

“Over there, I think,” Eroica replied shakily, nodding in the general direction of where he had tossed his coat.

Jason nodded and quickly retrieved it, going on to help his friend put it back on. He received a weak smile as he did this. Then he sat down again and looked into Dorian’s enormous blue eyes. He looked on the verge of tears. “Come ’ere,” Jason said gently, and pulled the trembling man over to him, wrapping his arms protectively around him.

Eroica shifted his position slightly, leaning his head against Jason’s chest and listening to the steady beating of his heart. He suddenly felt safe and protected as the Alterran wrapped his arms around him, pressing the folds of his jacket against his body. He felt relief wash over him. This was the real Jason. The alien—no, the man—who had saved his life on more than one occasion. The man who, a long time ago, had told him adamantly that he would not to let him die, despite all the evidence to the contrary. The man who had just rescued him from…from…

“I thought he was gonna kill me,” Eroica admitted in a small voice. Then the ugly, brutal reality of what had just happened seemed to hit him all at once and he broke down, burying his face against Jason’s chest.

Jason gave his sobbing friend a gentle squeeze and stroked his mass of blond curls. “It’s over. You’re safe now,” he said soothingly. It was like comforting a child, he thought, and considering their age difference, this was not far from the truth. He knew he was going to have to press for details, eventually. In fact, he’d probably have to fight to learn exactly what had happened once this strong willed human recovered from the shock.

But not now.

Dorian was still too badly shaken. Now he needed to be handled with kid gloves.

Jason quietly stroked his friend’s hair, the only sound in the room Dorian’s occasional quiet sobs as he struggled to regain his composure. After a few minutes, the Major’s disapproving voice suddenly broke the silence like a pistol shot. “Shall I close the door so you two can have some privacy?” he asked contemptuously.

Jason looked up, choosing to ignore the remark and the dozens of sarcastic replies that sprang to mind. “Major, this is escalating. Dorian was physically attacked,” he stated flatly. He watched in amazement as the officer’s manner changed instantly. The Major drew himself to his full height, his expression going from revulsion to outrage, and Jason would have sworn he saw concern momentarily flash across his features.

“When?” Klaus demanded as he entered the room. He held up a hand, and pointedly asked, “No, who?”

“To answer your questions in order,” Jason replied. “About five minutes ago, and we don’t know.” He turned to the shaken man beside him. “Do you think you can stand?” he asked softly.

“I’ll try.”

Jason put his friend’s arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. Dorian was still unable to stop trembling and leaned against the Alterran who put an arm around his waist to support him.

By this time, the Major had crossed the room and could clearly see the evidence of the assault. Notwithstanding his torn clothing, Eroica was covered with bruises, had ligature marks on his wrists and throat, and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye. Without a word, he moved to his side, placing the thief’s other arm over his shoulder to assist Jason in helping him from the room.

Jason observed this extraordinary display of apparent concern with a small smile. Sometimes the Major could be the most inscrutable of individuals.

“Where are we going?” the Major asked, breaking into Jason’s thoughts.

“Does this place have a decent infirmary?”

“Define decent.”

Jason threw the Major a sideways glance. Was that a joke? “It would be nice if it had the technology from this time period. What you would consider up-do-date.”

“Jason, this is the Soviet Union,” the Major replied with a snort. “The only thing up-to-date here is the propaganda.”

“Then we’re going to the TARDIS.”

* * *