Something New
by Lanning Cook

Running on four legs covered with soft gray fur was new. It made him feel strange, but it didn't frighten him. He certainly covered more ground that way. Those legs took him places he'd never be able to go on his other legs, wherever they might be. He knew where he was going, of course. He always went to the same place, even if what he saw there was never the same. Someone was waiting for him there, someone he needed to talk to.

The thick, green foliage brushed his fur as he passed through it, making soft, sliding noises that rolled and blended in his sensitive ears with the soft falls of his padded feet, the motion of hundreds of seen and unseen living creatures, and the gentle hiss of the mistfall on the upper canopy hundreds of feet above him. He could sense everything he heard flowing through him as he ran. He had been running for a long time, and yet he didn't feel tired in the least. He never felt tired here. And he always heard or felt or saw something new. He hadn't found anything new this time, not yet; but the Wolf knew it was coming. He always knew.

The Wolf heard the fear-call of the Jaguar in the distance, and laughed noiselessly, tenderly. That cat always got so damn nervous whenever he was here. Wasn't used to him yet, he supposed. Well, he'd better get used to him. He'd been invited, and he was here to stay. The Wolf heard the laughter of another, and knew that he was close to his destination. His keen eyes discerned a clearing up ahead, dominated by a large stone building. He burst into the clearing with an inexplicable mix of apprehension and exultation, eagerly wondering what would be new this time. He was surprised and slightly disappointed to see nothing new at all -- just an old friend he had seen here many times.

The harpy eagle folded its huge wings back and cocked its head to one side, laughing softly, observing the Wolf's enthusiastic entrance into the clearing with the tolerant smile of the experienced observing the excesses of the uninitiated. As the Wolf's eyes focused on the creature, it molded itself into something else, something equally familiar -- a Chopec warrior. The Warrior who had been the Eagle seated himself on the steps that led to the building's entrance. "Welcome, pathfinder. My house is yours."

The Wolf wanted to answer and tried to say something, but could not.

The Eagle's smile deepened. "This is something new. Speaking."

The Wolf closed his eyes and tried to remember how the Eagle had taught him to run. To be Running... Now he needed to Speak. To be Speaking... The Wolf felt his fur melt away, felt claws and teeth recede as he rose to stand on his hind legs -- his own two feet. Glancing down at himself, he was vaguely surprised to see himself dressed as the Eagle was.

"I did it," said the Wolf wonderingly, pushing a mane of dark curls from his face. He looked up at the Eagle. "I can speak."

"You learn quickly," replied the Eagle, laughing gently.

"I like to learn," replied the Wolf simply, happy that he had learned to speak to the Eagle. He would be able to learn even more now. He heard the Jaguar's cry again; closer this time, louder, more fearful.

"Now that one," continued the Eagle with a rueful expression, "does not learn quickly."

"He's afraid," murmured the Wolf, feeling it. "He doesn't like anything new."

The Eagle nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. Sometimes one who has lost too much holds whatever he has left too tightly."

The Wolf understood. When it came to the Jaguar, he and the Eagle had always understood each other, even before they had been able to speak about him. "He thinks he'll drop what he has if he reaches for something else."

"So he never reaches for anything. It is a sad story."

"The story isn't over."

The Eagle smiled approvingly. "You will guide him." It wasn't a question.

The Wolf hesitated at the sound of the rapidly approaching cat. "I'll try."

"It will be difficult." As if to emphasize the point, the Jaguar's terrified growl sounded nearby, echoing off the stone. "He is as frightened as he was the first time you came here."

The Wolf nodded absently, remember the first time. He had been cold and wet and lost then. He knew now that if the Eagle hadn't found him and guided him, he would have wandered far away and never come back. And he remembered the Jaguar, too, following him every step of the way, growling, snarling and hissing in rage and terror. The Jaguar hadn't been able to speak to the Wolf. He still hadn't learned.

"I'll guide him," said the Wolf softly. "But I'm afraid, too."

"You must choose your path. It is always your choice, pathfinder. To guide, to stand aside, or to go."

The Wolf smiled faintly. He didn't move as the Jaguar burst through the underbrush and into the clearing, howling at the top of his lungs. "I've already chosen."

The Eagle spared one wry glance for the terrified creature crouched threateningly at the edge of the clearing and nodded, smiling. "Now this one must choose."

The Jaguar uttered a deafening howl and leapt toward them, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. "Chief!" he screamed.

***

"Why do you not speak, Enqueri?"

Jim stared up at the figure at the top of the temple steps wonderingly, then looked around the clearing in confusion. He wasn't entirely surprised -- he'd been here so many times before -- but he couldn't remember how he had gotten here this time. A glance down at himself revealed jungle fatigues, not black fur, and he felt a dull sense of relief. The Warrior standing on the steps smiled reassuringly, but there was a measure of sternness in his tone that commanded attention.

"You cannot hide from yourself forever."

Jim's gaze rested sadly on the face of his friend. It hurt to look at that face. It only served to remind him how badly he had failed this man. Why was it that his friends were always the ones to pay for his failures?

"Why do you not speak?"

"I don't understand," faltered Jim.

The Warrior smiled ruefully. "Do you wish to understand? Or do you wish to hide?"

Jim opened his mouth to say he wanted to understand, then realized that it wasn't true. Understanding whatever had brought him here was the last thing he wanted to do. "I want to hide," he said, hating the sound of the words, despising himself for the truth of them.

"What do you fear, Enqueri?"

Jim watched with loving fascination as the Wolf bounded up the steps to sit at the warrior's side. My God. How could he have tried to kill something so beautiful? The animal turned its striking blue eyes toward him, and Jim hastily looked away. "Him," he admitted shakily.

The Wolf lay at the warrior's feet, its chin resting on its forepaws, and regarded Jim intently.

"Why?"

"I need him," grated Jim.

"As you always have."

"No. Not as I always have."

"Ah," said the Warrior mildly. "Something new." The Wolf lifted its head and pricked up its ears. Jim received the distinct impression that something passed between the beast and the Warrior, something that made the Warrior smile faintly. "What do you fear?"

Jim struggled to make himself understood. "Losing him."

"And why should he be lost to you, Enqueri?"

"How much can a man be expected to take?" The question burst from Jim as if it could no longer be contained. "I hurt him. I nearly killed him. And now this."

The Warrior regarded him with a puzzled expression. "And yet he lives. He has healed. Is he not the one who should say what he can or cannot endure?"

"I know he can't endure this," rasped Jim. "He'll leave me."

The Warrior's expression became stern. "You will not speak to him, but you will speak for him. Is this just, Enqueri? You allow your fears to rule you."

Jim swallowed against a dry throat and stepped back. It was true. His fears did rule him. And he didn't care. He let his gaze settle on the Wolf, who looked back at him with thoughtful eyes. If he had to be a coward to keep this one in his life, then so be it. He'd be a coward.

"You cannot hide from yourself forever," repeated the Warrior gravely. "Or from him."

Jim groaned softly and turned away, closing his eyes. "I know," he said brokenly. "But I need to be with him for as long as I can. I can't make it without him."

"Let it go." Brown's voice thundered in his ear; Jim gasped and opened his eyes, whirling toward the sound.

No forest, no clearing, no temple, no Warrior, no Wolf -- a fountain.

No! Not here. Not again. He'd come here every time he'd shut his eyes for the past four months. God, how many more times would he have to watch this -- Blair, lying wet, white and motionless on the grass at his feet as the paramedics moved away; Jim, struggling with the hands that restrained him, the hands that kept him from reaching Blair.

"Jim!"

"Blair!"

"Whoa, whoa, watch the nose!"

Jim struggled wildly against the restraining hands, but they seized his wrists and forced them down onto something soft and yielding.

"Jim, it's a dream. It's just a dream. Come on back, man, I'm right here."

Blair. Blair's voice.

"Open your eyes, dumb-ass! Look at me."

Blair's pissed voice.

Jim went still and opened his eyes, then caught his breath at what he saw. Blair Sandburg, dressed in nothing but some skimpy boxers, was straddling his body, leaning over him as he pinned Jim's wrists to his bed. His long hair brushed Jim's face as he leaned close to peer into it anxiously, trying to see in the dark. Jim drank in that face, those eyes, that body, as he stared up at Blair wordlessly.

"Hey," said Blair, his voice shaking a little. "Talk to me. You okay?"

"Yeah." Jim managed to stammer the word in a dazed tone.

Blair gazed down at him for a second, his face softening. "Why'd you go there, man?"

"Go there?" Jim felt his chest tighten.

"Yeah. There. The fountain. You were safe with us. Why'd you go there?"

Maybe this was a dream, too. "I always go there."

Blair closed his eyes. "Why?"

Jim struggled for an answer.

"Why don't you speak, Enqueri?"

Jim drew a sharp breath.

"What is it you think I can't take?"

"Don't," rasped Jim. "Please."

"You can't lose me," murmured Blair, bending even closer, opening his eyes again. Jim felt his sweet, warm breath on his face. "I won't leave you."

"You did leave me," whispered Jim. "I know what that's like now. I can't... I won't..."

"I came back when you called me, didn't I?"

Jim stared into midnight blue eyes and said nothing.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"For how long?" Jim was shocked by the anguish in his voice.

Blair stared at him for a moment; then a determined expression took possession of his expressive face. He leaned in, angling his mouth toward Jim's. Jim gasped in pure surprise and delight as Blair's mouth took his gently, passionately, his warm, rough tongue claiming Jim's. It didn't last nearly long enough; Jim groaned and tried to follow Blair up as Blair slowly pulled away. "Why don't you speak, Enqueri?" He sounded breathless, but he was smiling.

This wasn't a dream. "Because I'm a dumb-ass," said Jim in a stunned tone.

"Damn straight." Blair's smile became a tender, impertinent grin. "And?"

"And I love you, Blair," whispered Jim, his heart pounding hard, his muscles screaming to flee, to run far and fast from the mad thing he'd just done.

Blair's grin faded away, his eyes were very bright. "Love you too," he murmured. "Need you."

Jim's breathing started to quicken; this really wasn't a dream. "Need me?"

Blair nodded gravely. "Need you. Want you."

Jim let go a breath that made the hair around Blair's face dance. "God, Chief, I need you, too." He felt the rock that been sitting on his chest for months roll away; he pulled his hands free of Blair's grasp and buried them in Blair's hair. "And wanting you doesn't cover the territory." He yanked Blair down for another kiss, exploring every surface and texture of that sweet mouth with all the eagerness born of long denial.

A soft song from the living room below startled Jim out of the kiss; it took him a moment to recognize the music Incacha had played on the stereo during his visit. "Earth music," he had called it; it had pleased him. Blair had pleased him, too. Jim swallowed hard.

Blair smiled down at him. "I think we have someone's blessing."

"We always have, Chief." Jim blinked the tears from his eyes. "It's nothing new."

End

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