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Of Blood and Honey
8.8 - Strawberry Jam

8.8 - Strawberry Jam

Volume 8: Telophase

Issue 8: Strawberry Jam

Jannette Adrian Churchwell

By Nova

As I clutched her hand, my power thrummed through Holly’s body. It bounced from cell to cell, raced up and down veins and arteries, dancing through her neurons. I had already patched up the scratches and bruises that dotted her body, but shrunken tissues and low salt levels suggested she was still dehydrated. My powers could do a lot to mitigate the effects of dehydration, but couldn’t add new water to the body. Still, it was treatable—mostly by the IV we had hooked into her arm when we brought her to the field hospital a few hours ago.

I was less sure about our friendship.

Holly surveyed me as I held her hand, occasionally brushing strands of messy black hair from her face. She was still a little pale and gaunt, but looked a lot better now than she did back in the tree. She lay in her hospital cot, while I sat in a metal folding chair next to her. She had regained consciousness about an hour ago, but we hadn’t said too much since then. Now, her eyes slowly scanned me up and down. I had made my own excuses; that I had to check up on her, make sure she was okay… and she seemed to mostly buy it.

Thankfully, things were more comfortable here than in the middle of a prehistoric jungle. We’d even been cleaned up a bit, though I needed it more than her after my battle with those T-rexes. The medics had been gracious enough to provide me with a replacement lab coat and scrubs while mine were getting washed, though I had to admit that the coat was a little too big for me… But at least it gave me a chance to take a breath and slow down.

Of course, after an hour of me fussing over Holly’s IV and periodically taking breaks to hold her hand—to check on her vitals, of course—I suspected her patience had begun to run thin.

“How am I looking, doc?” Holly asked, her voice much stronger than it was back in the jungle, although there was an undeniable exhausted edge to it.

“Good,” I said, softly. My fingers caressed hers, thankful to feel their warmth. I didn’t realize just how close I came to losing her until she was back, safe, in the field hospital.

I felt Holly’s gaze on me and cleared my throat. “Y-you’ll be out of here by the end of the day. The military will take you back home, along with him…” I nodded toward Daniel, who turned away as I laid eyes on him—doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t eavesdropping a few cots down the tent from us.

Holly nodded, pulling her hand away from mine and casting her gaze toward the entrance of the field hospital tent. Light poured in around the edges of the flap of canvas that covered the entrance, and the low thrum of activity from the basecamp outside seeped through it. From what Ripple and Miasma had told me, search and rescue went well. They had managed to find a surprising number of people holed up in gift shops or bathrooms scattered across the zoo.

However, identifying bodies had been more difficult. Hell Creek’s artificial fauna and climate had not been kind to corpses. I grimly suspected that most of those who were still MIA were in pieces scattered across the jungle. Miasma had—as if she were discussing the weather—described in gruesome detail why it could take months to identify the remains of some of the missing people…

And, speaking of Miasma… I glanced back, toward the corner of the field hospital. Miasma sat, backwards, on a metal folding chair, and stared intently at me and Holly. She hadn’t moved in about twenty minutes, and remained uncharacteristically silent—even ignoring the occasional questions from a nurse, who had given up and started giving Miasma a wide berth.

I had no idea what she was doing, but I was beginning to think the nurses had the right idea.

“So…” Holly said, turning back to look toward me. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she carefully considered what she was planning to say.

“S-so…” I responded.

“So… You really are going to keep this up?”

My blood went cold. I had half-hoped she had forgotten about, well, my identity. That, maybe, she would think that—between a superhero showing up and almost becoming T-rex dinner—she misremembered seeing Jannette. Or, that she would just attribute her suspicion to some sort of fever dream altogether. “K-keep what up?” I squeaked.

Holly rolled her eyes before leaning in close to me. She lowered her voice. “Jan… It’s alright, I kno-”

I cut her off. “J-Jan? You mean jam?” I said, trying to feign confusion. “You want some… s-strawberry jam, or something?” I took all I had not to drop to the floor and bash my head against the ground in embarrassment. But, instead of doing that, I somehow kept talking. “I c-can get it for you,” I added between gritted teeth.

“Strawberry jam? Jan, what the fuck are you talking…” Holly trailed off with a sigh, and sunk back into her cot. “I don’t understand.” She closed her eyes and laid the back of her hand on her forehead, as if shielding herself from a headache. “Don’t you trust me?”

Her words cut like a knife through my heart. “I…” I started, before I stopped myself. Of course I trusted her… But I didn’t want her to think any less of me… To feel hurt that I had lied to her for months about my entire life. That I had used my powers on her without asking for permission, maybe even put her life in danger with the doppelgängers just because I didn’t want to tell her the truth. So what if pretty much every hero had a secret identity? Just because that was true, it didn’t mean she saw it the same way…

I remained silent—unable to get a word out—as I stared at her face creased with frustration… and a sort of sadness.

Without warning, she sat up again, locking eyes with me. “Alright… Stitch,” Holly said, her voice low—almost a whisper. “I get it. I was… mistaken. You just look a lot like my friend, Jan, is all…”

I almost fell out of my chair in surprise. Still unable to say anything in response, I stared back at her—eyes wide.

Holly continued, “And, well… If Jan had a secret or something… I shouldn’t push her to tell me anything. I want her to understand that she can trust me.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned in. “With anything… But, if she needs to keep a secret, I understand. I really do. She can keep it for as long as she needs to.”

I gazed, breathlessly, back at Holly, resting my hand on top of hers. My power rushed through her body, and I could feel her heart racing as I leaned in closer. Was it in anticipation of what I had to say? Was it… something else? I felt a sudden, aching need to crawl into bed with her; to feel her body heat, to hold her close and be held by her, to tell her everything.

But…

What we had… I didn’t understand it, but Holly was the one normal relationship in my life—the one normal friend I had. Everyone else—Linda, Ramirez, Mr. Mystery even—I trusted and cared deeply for… But they, even Linda, lived in the part of my life that had consumed me for the past four years: my career. Holly was my one refuge, my one bastion of normalcy…

I couldn’t afford to mess it up.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“I… I…” I breathed, squeezing Holly’s hand. “Thank you… You’re a good friend to this Jan person, whoever she is. You’ll see her again soon. I’m sure she misses you a lot…”

Holly smiled, leaning in even closer. I could feel her breath on my skin as her hand slowly moved from my shoulder up my neck. Her eyes locked on mine and my heart raced out of control. What was she doing? What did she want?

Holly’s expression changed as a shadow passed over her. Her eyes, soft before, now widened in horror.

I turned my head to face the entrance of the field hospital where an all too familiar man stood. He wasn’t tall—maybe a few inches taller than me—and wore a dark green, sleeveless tunic and baggy black pants. Deep green tattoos of dragons wrapped around the muscles of his arms, spiraling down toward his hands—where he wore sleeveless gloves. He was bald; his warm, ochre skin almost hairless save for a few wisps of grayish-black fuzz on the back of his head. Most strikingly, however, was the green-orange mask he wore of a snarling, antlered monster. Its mouth opened to reveal its wearer’s smile. From behind it, two dark eyes sparkled as they locked onto me.

I rushed to my feet, a sudden bolt of fear passing through me before I realized where I was—that he was probably here to help. Still, as he approached, I couldn’t help but feel wary.

After all, it wasn’t too often you met-

“Qilin!” Miasma shouted, rushing from her corner to meet the boss of Dragon’s Teeth. She grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s such an honor to meet a West Coast bigwig like you. How are you doing?”

Qilin didn’t seem bothered by Miasma’s sudden interjection. “I am doing well,” he said, his voice calm and warm. “You must be Miasma. I’ve heard about you as well.”

Miasma giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh my… I didn’t realize my exploits had reached your ears.”

“Such sloppy work would, naturally,” Qilin said, maintaining the same warm tone as before. “A bank job that netted barely fifty grand, killed two civilians and a police officer… How could I not hear about it?”

Miasma just nodded. I had a feeling that—if I could see under her mask—she was forcing a smile. “Cool, cool,” she said, the joviality gone from her voice. “Constructive criticism. I need to hear it.”

“You do,” Qilin assured her. “But, if you would excuse me, I’d like to meet with some good people from my city.”

I shuddered, not liking the way he said “my city.” I glanced down at Holly, whose grip had tightened around my hand. Studying superheroes and villains was pretty much her job at UCSF, so she undoubtedly had a very good idea who Qilin was: the man who, back in San Francisco, ruled Chinatown from the shadows.

He’d been the boss of Dragon’s Teeth since I was a little girl—long before I’d gotten my powers—but, as he approached me, hand outstretched, he looked spry as ever. Only a few wrinkles on his scalp and around his eyes hinted at his age.

“Stitch,” he said, “it’s good to see you again.”

I took his hand, which was unnaturally warm and dry. “If you say so,” I muttered.

Last time we met, almost two years ago, he incinerated me and left me to die in an alleyway. Ever since then, I’d made sure my costume was made out of fire resistant material.

And now my costume was God knows where getting washed… leaving me in quite flammable, normal coat and scrubs.

Qilin flashed me a toothy grin. “I am glad to see you are doing well!” he said. “The rumors do appear to be true. You’re on your own; finally out from under the angel’s thumb. Good for you!” There was no hint of mockery or scorn in his voice—it sounded like he actually meant it.

“Thanks…” I muttered.

Qilin laughed a sort of pleasant, fatherly laugh that was uncomfortably disarming. How could a man I’d seen burn people alive—Hell, I’d been burned alive by him—be so annoyingly, paternally charming? He was a monster who would kill anyone if it meant strengthening his hold over San Francisco.

But, I had to admit, when he said “good for you,” I was actually happy to hear it.

“W-what are you actually here for, Qilin?” I asked.

Qilin smiled again. “I truly am here to check in on my people… I heard there were some students from Chapel High School who had survived the ordeal, so I wanted to meet them.” He strode, slowly through the field hospital—nurses scrambling out of his way—before coming to a stop at the foot of Daniel’s cot.

“You,” Qilin said, “must be Daniel.”

Daniel made a sort of whimpering, squeaking noise as he stared back at Qilin. To be fair, I would too if a villain on his level somehow knew my name. I wondered how Qilin knew about Daniel, and could only assume he’d heard about him from one of the soldiers or heroes outside.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. About how brave you were,” Qilin said. “I wanted you to know you did a good thing. And, if you ever needed any help, or support in your future care-”

“Q-Qilin!” I shouted, pulling myself from Holly to rush to his side. “Y-you are not recruiting a fucking minor into Dragon’s Teeth in front of me!”

“So if I recruited an adult, it would be more acceptable?” Qilin asked, cocking his head in my direction.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, before realizing what he was really saying. “W-wait, no! O-obviously not!”

Qilin laughed again—that same, disarming laugh as before. “You have nothing to fear, Stitch. I truly only intend on offering my help to this young man.”

I glared at the villain. “W-well, you did,” I said. “Now leave?” It came out sounding more like a question than an order.

Qilin shrugged. “If you insist.” He strode toward the exit, where he came to a halt. “Oh, one more thing…” he said as he pulled back the canvas flap over the entrance of the tent. “The Butcher’s called a meeting for all us ‘powered assets.’ Something about taking the fight to Red Queen?”

Before I could as much as blink, he disappeared outside—the canvas flap wavering behind him.

I gulped as the sudden reminder of what we were actually here to do settled in. We had pushed the First Way out of Redding, out of the Extinction Refuge, and forced them to retreat to wherever their wilderness hideout was. But they weren’t beaten, not completely. Red Queen was still alive, along with an unknown number of powered enforcers and baseliner militia. With search and rescue in Hell Creek wrapping up, the military probably wanted to attack soon… Before the First Way could escape.

Which meant we could be deploying tonight.

“Come on. Let’s find out what’s going on,” Miasma said, motioning for me to follow as she pursued Qilin. She sounded a little less energetic than she usually did, though I sensed a note of manic anticipation in her voice.

“Oh… Okay,” I said. But, as I took a step forward, Holly grabbed my hand. I stopped.

“Stitch,” she said, “can I ask you something before you go? I think I have this weird pain…”

“That shouldn’t be right…” I said. I’d checked Holly’s vitals closely—maybe even too closely—and hadn’t seen anything that would make a “weird pain.” I glanced between her and Miasma, who shrugged. “I’ll wait outside,” she said, passing through the canvas flap.

I turned back towards Holly and sat back in the cool, metal folding chair. My power carefully traced through her body. “I’m not feeling anything out of place…” Her heart rate was quickened, erratic, but I could understand that after meeting Qilin face to face.

“Oh. I just wanted to say something to you before you go… Especially since whatever you’re doing sounds so serious…”

I nodded, grimly, but didn’t say anything. Holly leaned in toward me, her hand tightening around mine. “You know… I was so caught up in everything, I never said this…”

“S-said what?” I squeaked. She was very close now—her beautiful, soft, brown eyes locked on mine. She slowly reached up with one hand and caressed my cheek. I didn’t stop her as she unhooked my mask with one finger—letting it fall to dangle from my other ear—revealing my lips as they trembled. Her hand moved to the back of my head, playing with my messy, tangled hair as she pulled me closer.

“Since you’re not Jan,” she whispered, her warm breath brushing my lips with each syllable, “I can do this.”

Our lips met, warm and wet—an exhilarating rush passing between us. I let out a soft moan as she pulled me closer, her other hand on my hip caressing me gently. I could feel our hearts racing in unison as we kissed, oxytocin flooding through our bodies as they trembled in longing need. She kissed me again, and again, devouring me with an electric lust that I felt quivering inside her.

Quivering inside me.

She pulled away, leaving me flushed and gasping for breath. “Thank you,” she whispered into my ear, “for saving me, twice.”

Holly leaned back into her bed, breathing deeply but smiling widely at me. “Go,” she said, “they need you.” She paused for a moment, a mischievous look passing over her face. “Plus, maybe you could pick me up some strawberry jam while you’re out?”

I could only nod, open-mouthed, and blushing furiously as I tried to catch my breath. I stumbled out of the field hospital barely aware of my surroundings, and barely remembered to latch my mask back over my mouth before pushing aside the canvas flap to emerge outside. Immediately, Miasma wrapped an arm around my shoulder, shoving a gloved finger into my chest. “Ha! I knew it!” she shouted.

“W-Wha-”

She laughed maniacally. “I knew you were gay!”