Chapter Text
John’s sweaty palm dampened the torn envelope in his hand as he held it out to Kyle. Shame and guilt picked at the edges of his mind and he glanced away from the piercing dark eyes that stared at the offering in his hand. Not for the first time, John wished he had thrown the envelope and it’s contents away in the trash before heading out that day, but his conscience had reared its ugly head and here they were.
“I’m sorry. My curiosity got the better of me,” John said, trying not to mumble.
He felt like he was five years old again, trying to apologize to one of his brothers for stealing baseball cards.
Kyle didn’t move at first and after a moment, John thought he wasn’t going to reach out at all, but then warm fingers brushed his own and gently retrieved the parchment envelope. It slid out of John’s hand like water and a sense of profound loss echoed in the chambers of his heart. He couldn’t explain it. It was just a key and a single word note. It didn’t even belong to him and yet something about its absence tore at him, as if an entire world had slipped through his fingers. Perhaps it had.
“You opened my mail,” Kyle said simply.
“I’m sorry,” John repeated.
A flush heated his cheeks and he shifted his feet on the mossy earth beneath them. Somewhere farther up the mountain, he heard Bill’s whoops and Laurie’s laughter. At least they were having fun. John would rather be anywhere else right now. Why had Kyle even come with them?
Kyle lifted the broken flap on the back of the envelope and pushed his long fingers inside. He pulled out both the note and the key. Black brows furrowed as Kyle took in the note and it’s damning word. He said nothing, but--
Don’t.
John could still see it scrawled in its spidery script, could still feel the shape and weight of the key against his palm.
Kyle’s eyes flicked up to meet his.
A warm breeze ghosted through the trees around them, bringing with it the scent of rain and petrichor. John’s skin crawled with the sensation of wrongness between them and yet Kyle still said nothing. Eventually, Kyle folded the note neatly and slipped both it and the key into his pocket. He didn’t ask why. Didn’t scream at John. Didn’t pull out one of those copious knives he always seemed to have on him and cut John’s throat. He just turned around and walked up the dirt track towards Laurie’s and Bill’s voices in the distance.
John balked, blinking slowly at the lack of reaction. He hadn’t admitted it to himself, but he’d actually been frightened of Kyle’s response to the invasion of privacy. And now?
“Hey, wait!--” John reached out and grabbed Kyle’s shoulder, spinning him around. The movement sent John’s backpack swinging on his back and nearly toppled him over. He regained his composure and glared at the other man. “That’s it? No lecture? No anger?”
Kyle peered at the hand, a strange expression darting across his face before it eased into a calm flatness. “Why would I be angry?”
John’s eyes widened. “I--you--” he sputtered. “You’re the most private person I know and I invaded that privacy because I couldn’t keep my curiosity in check. You’re not even mad?”
Kyle rubbed at the back of his neck, brow furrowing. “I’ve never received a letter before,” he said absently. “I guess I didn’t realize they were supposed to be private.”
What?
John shook his head and tried to quell the immense frustration that arose in his chest. He should be used to this weirdness. He had known Kyle was strange and eccentric from the first moment he saw him. Of course people probably didn’t send letters to guys with tattoos on their eyelids. People like that tended to put others off. If it weren’t for Kyle’s money and relatively quiet lifestyle in the house, John wouldn’t even be talking to him, let alone reading his mail.
“You’ve never gotten a letter before. Ever?”
“No,” Kyle said mildly, shaking his head. “So thanks, I guess, for giving it to me. Um, why did you wait until now, though? I mean, why not back at the house?”
The stain on John’s cheeks deepened as the shame spread through him. “I...didn’t really know how to give it to you. Without you getting angry. I guess.”
Kyle’s gaze fell to the ground, and he kicked at a crumble of yellow marble that had fallen from one of the boulders around them. He looked like he wanted to say something before a particularly loud shriek of delight from Laurie drew his eyes up the hill. He winced as the sudden movement pulled at his bandaged shoulder. Slowly he turned back to John. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I shouldn’t have left you to pay the water bill on your own.”
John’s attention zeroed in again on the bandage peeking out above the collar of Kyle’s shirt before saying, “It’s fine. You covered it and that’s enough. Maybe let’s not cut it so close next time.” He looked back to Kyle’s fathomless eyes. “What happened to you anyway?”
It was the first time he’d dared ask about Kyle’s personal life. Whatever he got up to was not his business, but John hadn’t seen Kyle for weeks and he truly didn’t want to be in the same situation with the bills again. If his roommate was some MMA fighter or hit man instead of the milkman Kyle claimed to be, he wanted to know.
Kyle’s eyes flicked intently over John’s face, trying to read something in his expression. His lips formed gently around the words “next time,” whispering them on a breath. Then he blinked and bit his lip. “I got a dog. I forgot to tell you.”
It was John's turn to feel affronted. “The rental agreement said no pets.”
“She’s really well-behaved,” Kyle said, his voice betraying a hint of worry.
John groaned. Just because she was well-behaved didn’t negate the fact that she was a pet. An actual animal that would be living in their home with them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dogs. They were fine for the most part, but he didn’t want to have to deal with the noise of the door closing for 3am walks and accidents and trash strewn all over… He inhaled a lungful of air and sighed.
“Just...keep her under control, will you?” he asked, trying not to be a total jerk about it.
Kyle’s eyes widened. “Yeah, absolutely. You’re not going to kick me out?”
John felt like a complete asshole when he actually considered it for five seconds. But then he remembered his near struggle to pay the bills in Kyle’s brief absence--remembered all that he had contemplated doing in order to come up with the funds. It wasn’t worth it. Kyle was an enigma to him, but he seemed to be some sort of independently wealthy enigma and John needed his money.
“No. Of course not,” he finally bit out.
Despite the good news, Kyle’s face fell and he looked back down at the ground. “Thanks,” he muttered. “We should probably get moving if we’re going to get a better look at those rocks.”
John wondered at Kyle’s demeanor, but didn’t push it. “Yeah. Let’s head up the trail.”
It felt as though a rush of sound and sensation flooded into his awareness as Kyle turned away and started up the path. Birdsong and the whistling of wind through the trees tickled John’s ear and he wondered if all had been somehow silent while he’d been talking with Kyle. Everything felt unnaturally loud now. They continued hiking until the murmur of Laurie’s and Bill’s voices grew distinct and clear around the corner of a particularly large, jutting formation of the strange yellow stones. He put a hand to a boulder to brace himself as he hopped over a large tree root and hissed.
A bitter revulsion rippled through his gut and he savagely whipped his hand away from the rock. He stared at the offending stone and furrowed his brow. His eyes flicked to the side to find Kyle looking at him with an odd intensity. John’s lips parted but he was interrupted by--
“You okay, John?” Bill tossed over his shoulder. “You two didn’t get up to any mischief down there did you?”
Bill’s teasing tone snapped John out of his stupor and he turned his head away from Kyle to face his friend.
He ignored Bill’s question in favor of, “Where could all these have come from?”
Laurie, starting back down the hill toward them, must have seen the confusion on his face. “I swear, Toffee, they just appeared out of nowhere,” she called down.
“Stones don’t just appear out of nowhere,” John grumbled under his breath.
“Maybe they were dropped out of the sky by aliens!” Bill said, fluttering his fingers through the air in a whimsical gesture.
“Yeah,” Laurie exclaimed, jumping onto Bill’s back as her momentum carried her down the path. “Aliens that are building their first outpost here, ready to send observation studies back to their homeworld.” She smiled and ruffled Bill’s hair.
“Unhand me, woman!” Bill growled theatrically before spinning her around in a dizzying circle.
John couldn’t understand how they were so cavalier about this, but, then again, Laurie and Bill had always been that way. Unconcerned about life’s unexplainable perplexities that always sent his own mind into a tailspin of thought and worry.
Kyle had been quiet throughout their speculation, but he turned to John with a look of curiosity on his face. “Does it bother you to touch them?”
He turned and pondered Kyle’s question. It seemed a strange thing to ask, but then again John’s response to touching the stone had been irrational and odd. Looking again at the yellow, marble-like surface, he narrowed his eyes. Everything about it repulsed him. He could no more touch the stone than a corpse. But why?
“It does,” he said simply, not elaborating.
“Ok so, seriously Toffee, what do you think these are?” Laurie asked.
“It told you its ali--” Laurie thrust a hand over Bill’s mouth.
A muscle twitched in John’s jaw. “I have no idea.”
For some reason, his eyes simply couldn’t keep from straying to Kyle in this situation. Something about the way Kyle looked at him--at the stones--unnerved him. As though his crazy roommate understood something fundamental about the universe and yet couldn’t completely fathom that knowledge at the same time.
Laurie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Focus, lovebirds,” she said, glancing between John and Kyle. “What are we dealing with here?” She grinned impishly and took a few steps forward to stand next to Kyle where he was gazing at the stones with his eyebrows drawn together.
“I’ve never been up here before,” Kyle said dazedly, “but I’m guessing these boulders are unusual?”
“They’re impossible,” John corrected.
Boulders like this simply didn’t form in this area at all. He stepped up to the largest that stood in the broken cradle of the others and tentatively reached out a hand. His fingers hovered over the glassy surface. Sweat beaded over his forehead and a clammy chill slithered down his spine. The pit of his stomach dropped somewhere into the vicinity of his shoes. Beside him, Kyle drew in a breath. John flicked his eyes that direction, paused, and lowered his hand again.
“Don’t touch them,” Kyle murmured, softly enough so that only John could hear. “Is this where most of them are?” He directed his question to Laurie, and she looked back to Bill for confirmation.
“Yeah, I think so based on what we saw.” Bill shrugged.
John pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and inhaled sharply. It didn’t make any sense. His mind rifled through ecological and geological possibilities for several minutes, but turned up entirely empty. Even if rocks like this could form in this area, they couldn’t simply appear overnight. That, he knew for certain, was entirely impossible. It made his head ache. For once, he wished he could be like Laurie and Bill and brush the whole thing off as some masterful cosmic joke.
“Well, whatever they are,” Bill began, running a hand through his hair. “I think they make an epic camping spot.”
“Oh, yes!” Laurie enthused. “We should sleep up here tonight. Lie under the stars. Wait for the aliens to beam us up.” She gazed affectionately at Bill.
Kyle had left the group to pace around the outside of the largest boulder. It was so tall that he disappeared from view as he rounded the edge. John tracked his movement until he was out of sight and then followed, leaving Laurie and Bill to babble about nonsense together. He adjusted the straps of his backpack as he went up the steeper incline. On the other side of the boulder, Kyle crouched before a flat section of the stone’s surface frowning.
“Find something?” John asked.
Kyle startled at John’s voice. He looked up from the stone, his dark eyes wide. “There’s no way this should be here,” he said. He reached a hand forward, toward the rock. Gently, his finger traced over dark markings that were etched there, flowing in spirals and waves across the yellow surface.
John followed the movements of the long digit and took in the strange symbols. They were familiar somehow and yet he couldn’t place them in his mind. Not unless...he had seen them before. On the key he’d discovered in that parchment envelope. The key he’d given to Kyle not a quarter of an hour ago. Kyle removed his finger, revealing a black shape that appeared to be a simple dot at first glance, but upon closer inspection was…
A keyhole.
It couldn’t be anything else.
“What the hell?” he breathed. John’s head whipped to the side, and he cast a withering glare at Kyle.
The other man simply knelt before the keyhole, gaze firmly fixed on the embellished stone and said nothing. But John’s eyes trailed down his lithe form to the hand that slipped into Kyle’s coat pocket--where he knew that key rested. And John knew, without having to be told, that the same key would fit perfectly into whatever lock resided within the stone.
He felt it again--the same sensation he’d endured when passing the envelope to Kyle. It was as if an entire reality lay locked away behind the boulder and yet it didn’t make any logical sense. Before he thought better of it, he put a hand out and grasped Kyle’s shoulder.
Kyle craned his neck back to look at him and John frowned at the way it pulled at the seam of the grisly scars along the pale cheeks. He forced his eyes to lock on dark irises and put all his will into his next words.
“Tell me what’s going on,” John ordered, mind steeled against refusal.
Rising smoothly from his crouch, Kyle turned completely until he was facing John. They were separated by less than a foot of space. All of the uncertainty from earlier, all of the ease that he had shown when John had returned his mail, was gone. “We need to leave,” he said. “Now.”
Into the silent space around them, John said, “Let’s go.”
***
None of this made any sense. Kahlil felt the tension in John’s grip on his shoulder. His face was a closed-off mask, but the bond between them thrummed with the strength of John’s confusion and curiosity. All around them, monstrous chunks of the Great Gate pierced through the forest, and here - where the outcroppings emerged the most prominently - was a keyhole that absolutely should not exist.
The keyhole had all of the indications that it was placed there by his order: the half-moon symbols circled it, and the flowing Payshmura script spelled out holy incantations in swirling loops that fanned outward. But the keyhole was wrong. Why would they send him the command - don’t return to Basawar, don’t bring the Rifter, don’t come back - and then create a keyhole that opened the Great Gate?
Kahlil wasn’t sure, but he knew that he didn’t want to tease out the meaning standing here with the Rifter so very close to the passage between the worlds. He needed to get John off of this mountain.
“Good, let’s get out of here,” he said, trying for nonchalance.
John nodded firmly and removed his hand from Kahlil’s shoulder. Without another word, he moved out around the boulder with the keyhole and back towards Laurie and Bill.
Spotting them, Laurie waved. It was hard to believe that they had met just this morning. She was already so open with him. Kahlil liked Laurie and Bill. On the way up the mountain, they had let him ride in the front of the Jeep and offered him licorice whips while Laurie leaned between the seats and chatted his ear off. What would they make of this sudden departure? Kahlil wouldn’t even have agreed to come along with them if Laurie’s heartbroken expression and continued cajoling as John paid their breakfast tab hadn’t worn him down.
“Hey, Kyle, wouldn’t this be the perfect place to camp tonight?” Laurie asked, when they got within earshot.
“We have to get going, I’m afraid,” Kahlil said, looking at John.
John shook his head at Laurie. “Kyle and I are heading back. You and Bill can use my equipment if you want, though. I can come pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”
Bill smirked at the two of them, eyes twinkling. “Oh? Going back to the house? Alone? Do you need a chaperone?”
“Ignore him,” Laurie said to Kahlil, poking an elbow into Bill’s ribs.
Kahlil raised his eyebrows back at her, in what he hoped was a look of innocent confusion. He glanced at John, but couldn’t tell what he thought of the continued teasing.
“Well, babe?” Laurie asked, looking at Bill. “What do you think? A romantic night under the stars? Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“My darling, I’m never too busy for a romantic evening with you. Especially with something like work,” Bill crooned, sticking his tongue out on the last words.
Kahlil wasn’t sure he would have appreciated Bill’s overture, but Laurie seemed to. “Aww, you’re so sweet,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank goodness we bought so many Hershey bars. Always be prepared!” She giggled.
Kahlil didn’t like the idea of Laurie and Bill, or anyone really, remaining here with the broken remains of the Great Gate, but he needed to get John away as quickly as he could. How much longer would it take to talk Laurie and Bill out of their romantic night under the stars? He turned to John.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” John said. “Here, Laurie.” He shrugged off his backpack and Laurie made to lift it before dropping it with an oof!
Bill laughed, stepping in and pushing up the sleeves on his arms. “Let me handle it, little woman.”
A dry smirk crossed John’s handsome features when Bill could barely lift it either. “Want me to carry it to your chosen spot for the night?”
“Oh, very funny, Toffee,” Laurie huffed. “But actually, yes please.”
She laughed as John picked up the pack with little visible effort. Kahlil stayed where he was while John trailed after his friends to a clearing a few yards off the path. John moved smoothly through the detritus of twigs and pine needles that covered the ground, never sparing a glance for his footing and never stumbling. Kahlil bit the inside of his lip, worrying it between his teeth. Today had started out so promisingly. He hated to be the one to drag John away and put an end to their fun. How much more would he have preferred staying here with John’s friends, camping out under the stars, and falling asleep with the sound of John’s breath so very close to him?
But he thought of the letter and the key in his pocket, and remembered that he had a duty, one that did not take his personal feelings into account. It was time to get home.
“Alright. Don’t break any of my stuff,” John muttered to Laurie and Bill. “I expect to find that backpack and all my gear in perfect condition tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, off with you! Go hang with your new boyfriend.” Bill shooed him away with both hands while Laurie rummaged through the contents of John’s bag.
John froze at the words and didn’t start moving in Kahlil’s direction until several breaths had passed.
Taking the path of least resistance, Kahlil smiled at Bill and Laurie. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time up here. Enjoy the fresh air.” He was tempted to grab John’s hand to pull him along more quickly, but John had avoided his eyes since Bill’s boyfriend comment, and he didn’t want to make John uncomfortable. He settled for walking out ahead, and then had to turn and wait for John to unlock the passenger door when he got back to the Jeep first.
John still hadn’t spoken by the time he got to the Jeep and unlocked it. “You okay?” Kahlil asked him as he climbed into the passenger side.
“I’m fine,” John said, voice hard. He started the engine without further comment and proceeded to carefully turn the car around on the packed dirt path.
Kahlil sighed, sensing that John wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He could hardly blame him. Between the disconcerting feeling of the broken Gate and the incessant teasing of John’s friends, Kahlil felt overwhelmed himself.
“Mind if I roll down the window?” he asked after a few moments of silence had passed.
John didn’t answer, merely reached over with his left hand and unlocked the child safety switch for the windows.
“Thanks,” Kahlil muttered, settling against the door and letting the breeze ruffle the escaping strands of his braid.
The car ride didn’t improve from that point. The yellowpetal water from that morning had completely worn off, and every bump and switchback down the mountain seemed to jar the wound in his shoulder. Kahlil couldn’t help thinking about just leaving John and going back alone through Gray Space. He imagined unlikely cover stories for a sudden disappearance. Maybe they could pull over at a rest stop and he could say he would hitch a ride later. John would probably never believe him, though. Kahlil relinquished the thought and bit the inside of his lip as they coasted over another rut.
“Are you getting car sick?” John peered his way.
Kahlil looked over at John, who had turned back to watch the road. He had a pinched, tired expression that seemed to settle around his eyes. The concern in his voice struck Kahlil as touching at that moment. He had been thinking about the pain in his shoulder and about abandoning John at the next opportunity while John had been worrying and wondering about him. He didn’t know John thought about him.
He realized he had been staring at John without answering and he shook his head to clear it. “I’m fine,” he echoed John’s earlier words. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good.”
Kahlil sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest. He tried to clear his mind and focus on his breath rather than the Great Gate, the key in his pocket, or the pain in his shoulder. It didn’t work. He cracked his eyes open and glanced over at John. He had been in John’s Jeep before, when he couldn’t think of a plausible reason for not accepting a friendly offer of a ride, but he had never had so much time to simply observe. John drove with casual concentration. His hand seemed to move unthinkingly on the shifter as he controlled their descent down the steep back roads. He kept his right hand resting there while he wasn’t shifting gears; Kahlil was caught by the way his wrist tapered down to meet the sharp upward curve of his hand. John, it seemed, was a better distraction than breath.
“You know these roads really well,” he said, suddenly desperate to draw John’s attention back.
John shrugged. “I come up here all the time. Mostly to collect samples for projects, but also to camp. It’s a beautiful place.”
“It is,” Kahlil agreed, noticing that the trees around them were thinning out as they got closer to town. John did often hike in the mountains in this area. He must be burning with questions about what caused the stones of the Great Gate to emerge at his favorite camping spot. There weren’t any good answers that Kahlil knew.
“Thanks for taking me to breakfast,” Kahlil said. “Your friends are really nice.” He didn’t want John to clam up again.
“Thanks for showing up with the rent,” John countered.
“Yeah, of course,” Kahlil said. “I mean, you hardly have to thank me for that. I’m sorry again that I cut it so close.”
“It turned out okay,” John said. He paused. A muscle flexed in his forearm where it rose toward the steering wheel. “Where were you anyway? You were gone a long time.”
Kahlil thought about what he could tell John. The key in his pocket was a sharp reminder of the duty that he was obliged to perform. It was one thing to wait until John was far enough away from his friends, until they were alone. But his orders were to kill the Rifter, not to spill his life story to him. Despite that, he desperately wanted to tell John the truth. He settled on a compromise.
“I had some family stuff,” he said. “My sister needed help. She’s from out of town.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you had a sister. Is she okay?”
Kahlil thought of Rousma, finally here in Nayeshi with him. He had promised he would free her, and he had. He smiled. “Yeah, actually. She’s great.”
John’s lips quirked at the corners. “That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah,” Kahlil said, settling further into the seat and closing his eyes once again. The air outside was beginning to warm as they descended. John had looked almost pleased for a moment, and Kahlil let the sight of his smile play across his memory. It felt good to be the one to make John smile.
What was he going to tell John? He hoped that Rousma might have some idea of what had happened to the Great Gate, or why things seemed to have suddenly gone so wrong. The key was an obvious enough message, but how had the situation gotten to this point without anyone warning him? And once John was dead, what was he supposed to do? Didn’t they want him to come back?
John’s house had started to feel comfortable. Kahlil thought of the evenings they had spent chatting around takeout boxes at the dining room table, or drinking coffee early in the morning while the sun began to peek through the kitchen window. Kahlil was happy there, happier than he had ever felt, but he didn’t think he could feel that way without John there as well.
“Hey, do you have any plans tonight?” he asked, turning to John. He could feel the silence stretching on between them and couldn’t resist drawing him out.
“Yes, I do,” John said. “And so do you.”
Kahlil cocked his head at John. He didn’t remember that they had made any plans. “I do?”
“You’re going to sit down and explain what you know. I saw the way you looked at those rocks up there--at that keyhole, or whatever it was. You apparently sent yourself a letter with a key that has symbols identical to the ones we saw on that boulder. You know something. You’re going to tell me.”
John had spoken more than Kahlil had heard him say since they had arrived at the rocks. He was upset, it was clear from his sudden outburst and the tone of his voice, but it made Kahlil smile. John had in irrepressible desire to understand the world around him. He always wanted answers, wanted to know. It was entirely unsurprising that he had reasoned through the key, the symbols on the stones of the Great Gate, and the mysterious keyhole, and found his roommate at the center of things.
There was no reason he couldn’t tell the Rifter the truth before he killed him. But he couldn’t say anything now, while his weapons were locked away in his room and John was driving them along a highway at sixty miles an hour.
“Right,” Kahlil said slowly. “We can definitely talk about the letter and the key. I don’t know if I can explain much beyond that.”
John sent him a mildly irritated look, but eventually turned back to the road and nodded curtly. “Fine.”
The remainder of the car ride passed by in silence. Kahlil considered the evening ahead of him and felt less certain with each moment about exactly what all the strange elements of this day had meant. He hoped that Rousma might come up with a better explanation than his mind seemed capable of offering.
Finally, John backed the Jeep into the small parking space in the alley behind Indian Street. When the engine cut, Kahlil could feel the absence of the sound and vibration like an echo in his bones. He paused for a beat, eyes still closed, and drew in a steadying breath. He opened his eyes, wondering how to even begin to explain all the strange things that had happened that morning, but by the time he turned to look at the driver’s seat, John had left.