The Atlas Six (The Atlas 1)

“You should probably sleep,” she commented blandly.

“For fuck’s sake, I just said I—”

“Why?” she interrupted, and though Nico was exhausted, though he did not want the argument that was sure to follow and though he would have very much preferred to crawl into his bed and sleep for at least the next twelve hours, he still said the one thing he knew she would not accept.

“I can’t tell you.”

His voice sounded dull, even to him.

Predictably, Libby said nothing. He could feel the swell of her tension beside him, anxiety curling defensively around her like Reina’s arms had wrapped around the book. Something of her own to protect, to keep safe, to keep hidden.

Much as he hated to admit it, Nico resented himself most when he made her feel small.

“Just… please don’t make me tell you,” he amended raggedly, hoping the last-ditch effort at sincerity might persuade her not to suffer more.

She was quiet for a moment.

“You said it was an alliance,” she said.

“It is.” And it was. “It’s an alliance, Rhodes, I promise. I meant what I said.”

“So if you need help…?”

“You,” Nico assured her quickly. “I’ll come to you.”

“And if I need anything?”

She was primly juvenile, tit-for-tat. For once, though, he didn’t begrudge her that.

“Me,” he confirmed, relieved to be able to offer something. “I’ve got you, Rhodes. From here on, I swear.”

“You’d better.” She sounded satisfied with that, or at the very least relieved. “You owe me big time after this little jaunt of idiocy.”

“I knew you’d eventually get self-righteous about it.” He added a little groan, just to maintain some semblance of decorum. No need to frighten either of them with too brisk a departure from their usual animosity.

“Still,” she sighed. “You’d tell me if you were in any real danger?”

“We’re not anymore.”

“That’s not an answer, Varona.”

“Fine, yes.” Another groan. “I’d tell you if we were, but for what’s worth, we’re not.”

“But we were?”

“Not danger, exactly. But there were some… oversights.”

“And now?”

“Check the wards yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“I already did.” She paused again anyway. “The pipes, really?”

“What, you don’t grasp the fundamentals of home ownership, Rhodes?”

“God, I hate you.”

Ah, normalcy.