Cursed Bones

Chapter 3: A family affair

We press on our cuffs, and are instantly reset to the present. I keep the ring clutched in my hand. The frequency reset to time travel is sort of like the world's best chiropractic appointment meets whiplash. I feel instantly resorted inside and out, and a bit sick, but at the moment the mystery abates that.
We land on the lawn outside the main campus building. Yes in period clothing. We've told the student populace we're really dedicate theater majors. It's worked so far.
"Why would he be carrying it with him? And why even—buy this?" I ask.
"I don't know, but agents have gone rogue before," Anna says, climbing to her feet.
"But—," he was fine. Going rogue, losing your mind and nerve before a jump and choosing to stay in the past. But that's not Rush. He wasn't going unstable or they'd never have let him jump.
We go back inside and take the elevator down to the bunker. Our parents (joke) are eagerly waiting.
"Well?" Riker asks, his face falling. It's not good news.
"Go get changed, I'll tell them," Anna says.
"I—okay," I realize that she thinks he went rogue. And while logically it makes sense. It also doesn't. Why did he already have the ring?
I give her the ring and wordlessly go to shower and change back into my street clothes. Hair slicked back out of my face and backpack over my shoulder I join the others in the main room.
"Psychologically he was fit before the jump, but we've had agents lose their nerve before," Doc is saying.
"Then why the ring?" I ask, coming over. Anna hands it to me. "He brought this with him, bothered to get it engraved. That was a plan and you yourself just said he was psychologically fit."
"Perhaps it was simply a goodbye. He was always fond of Ancient Greece. He wanted us to know he was all right," Riker offers.
"What, you're giving up?" I ask.
"You can't comb Ancient Greece for him. If he wants to be gone, he's gone," Doc says, gently, "And he knows where to find you. You said you have a couple of meeting places and you checked them."
"Yes," I sigh. We don't tell them we meet with Claudius like, every other week, Riker's ethical mind would be blown. It's clearly fine we haven't exploded and the Emperor is super helpful, once he arrested five Elgin's men just because I was able to recite a poem of his from memory. Like, it's very helpful.
"The only other agent to go rogue we did find and return, however, Rush has done a lot of jumps. He knew the risks," Riker says.
"This was perfectly lucid and he—," he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. I hold up the ring as evidence, "Why bother to do this? No something isn't right."
"Maybe he was grabbed by Elgin's Men and somehow talked them into letting him pass of the ring," Anna says, "If so then he's probably back in the present in their stupid compound while they think of ransom demands. Either way, we have to wait for him to return or to get word."
I sigh. I know they're logically right. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
"He'd say goodbye to me," I say, turning the ring over in my hand.
"Perhaps he did," Riker says.
"Look, we'll remain here, and vigilant. I'll try to see if my last Elgin's Men contacts know anything, we'll go from there," Doc says, "Don't you have a family thing to go to this weekend?"
"Rush was going with," I sigh. My family likes him. And he doesn't turn down free food, "He knew about it he wouldn't—fuck all right. Yeah. I'm going."
"We will call you the minute we hear anything. For now you've done all you can," Riker says.
"Can I keep this?" I ask.
"It ah—was likely for you," Doc says.
"It's a message I think," I say, shaking my head. But I can't figure out what.
"I'll give you a lift, let me go get changed," Anna says.
"Thanks," I say, turning the ring over in my hand. It's wide enough that it fits on my right ring finger. I don't usually wear jewelry unless it's part of a costume. I sigh. Why did you do this, Rush? He did it intentionally. But I can't wrap my head around the why. I guess I never could.

Three months ago
"You never tell me anything," I said, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Sweats, just done going for a jog, no shirt, black and blue as hell from my last jump. He didn't go. He'd been MIA for three weeks with little excuse but that he had to take care of a personal matter.
"I do," Rush said, hands on hips, he'd been making the bed when I got back, "What, is this really how you walk into a room? No 'hello had a nice run been thinking'—,"
"Superfluous words, you know all that. You just show up this morning, you're really not going to tell me where you've been?" I shrugged.
"It was a personal matter," he said, going back to the bed. Stiff Harvard t-shirt, and black jeans, despite our period-appropriate long hair and scufffy facial hair, he somehow still fit in in this century.
"We've been living together for a year. I'm not asking to know your—past, I get it's rough. But I think I deserve more than two words. You know my shit with my family," I said.
"It was personal. It's taken care of," he said, light green eyes flashing. Deep skinned enough to pass in most any part of the globe he did more jumps than I did, plus his command of languages was unparalleled.
"You expect to live with me, I introduce you to my weirdly-homophobic family as my boyfriend, I come out to them over you, and you can't even give me an explanation as to why? You seriously can't trust me at all?" I asked, blocking the doorway. He was clearly thinking of strolling out.
"It sounds like you're the one who doesn't trust me," Rush said, coolly, leaning against the wall since I clearly wasn't going to let him leave till this was done.
"I mean—'my brother's shit, I had to help him out in Boston don't feel like talking about it' —or —'my family's homophobic I'm not ready to come out I just needed to go back'—are enough explanation. I want to understand why I'm not being told I don't think that's too much to ask," I said, "I checked the logs it wasn't a jump."
"You checked the logs?" He asked, annoyed.
"Rush, I woke up, note on the fridge 'be back in a few weeks' is a valid reason to check the bloody logs. Most people would think you're cheating," I cried, "I'm sick of feeling like I'm one of your many secrets."
"You seriously don't trust me?" He asked, "My 'many secrets' what does that even mean?"
"It means, I've never met your family, or anyone besides people we know at the university, you speak six languages fluently and yet can't tell anyone where you grew up reliably. You don't talk about your family you don't talk about your life. You do this disappearing act where you leave for a week or weeks at a time no solid explanation just expecting to show back up and I'll be waiting."
"What you want something else? I always come back don't I?" He asked, "I come back to you. What is it you want?"
"Something real?" I said, shaking my head, "Something more than whatever double, triple life you're leading? You know me, but you never let me know you."
"This is me. We are real, I don't know what more you want. But I can't give you any more," he said.
"Right then," I said, rubbing my face, "Where is this going?"
"I can't—," he looked around.
"No shut up, got it, I got it, this is you crashing here, and doing your own thing whenever. I'm sick of the one way street," I said, turning to walk away.
"No don't you dare walk away from me!" Rush cried, a mistake, because the cat attacks people who shout, specifically who yell at me.
It attacked his feet angrily. I didn't get to storm away, instead scooping up the big tabby.
"Jesus that Cretan drew blood!" He cried. He always called the cat a Cretan I don't know why. His sock was bloodied as was his pant leg.
"You were shouting," I said, petting the cat to calm it. It snuggled its head into my arm affectionately.
"It's a fucking menace I don't know why you let it inside. Either that stupid cat goes or I do," Rush growled.
"Fine. Go," I said.
"What—what?" He stuttered. My response was immediate and without hesitation. And he'd said it in anger he liked the cat too sometimes.
"Go. Bye. Get out. The cat doesn't leave me with no explanation," I said.
"THAT CAT RUNS AWAY ALL THE TIME YOU LEAVE THE WINDOW OPEN FOR IT—,"
I restrained the cat so it wouldn't attack his head, "Yeah and it brings back a dead bird so I know where it's been. I'll put the cat in the bath go pack your things."
"You're—throwing me out?" He said.
"Yeah, looks like I am. Turns out the cat is better company," I said.