Sincerely

I took Deckard’s hand and led him back out of Carlos’ house, I thought we were past him questioning his feelings but maybe hearing and seeing Alessio had scared him more than he had let on. I thought he knew with all the emotion and affection he’d been showing towards me that it was all real.

Telling him some of that was downloaded by Elias to protect him, wouldn’t help him now. He needed to see that despite some of it being programming, the feelings and actions and things he did, weren’t. He was as alive as me and you. Carlos' journal proved that.

You know how we can grow up without fear of who we like nowadays mostly? Deckard had been doing that, he’d had emotions before when he read books and watch movies, Carlos saw all of that, and he knew about the revolution, it was why he wanted to change his will.

He knew when he was gone, Deckard would need some support because he didn’t know how to live on his own. He couldn’t blame Deckard in that sense though like he could with Huxley, he had raised Huxley for almost two decades before kicking him out for his irresponsibility and refusal to keep stable jobs and stuff. Deckard on the other hand had only been with him a few years, it took a while for a person to become self-sufficient, Deckard had become somewhat, he wasn’t stable but he had managed to make it on his own pretty well without Carlos, sure Elias had helped but he had found his job on his own. He wasn’t perfect, no person is but he was doing better than Huxley.

The problem with Huxley was, he asked too much of the world, and expected too much. Too many free rides. He didn’t know anything about hard work, Carlos had had to work to get published and provide for himself and his family and he apricated none of that.

I led Deckard out of the house, locking it back up. I glanced at the key, unsure what to do with it now that it had served its purpose. Did I keep it with us or leave it behind?

Deckard looked at me, holding the key. I put it in my pocket eventually, knowing the house would be his if they ever implicated Huxley in Carlos’ murder, this would be his home, and he would be able to return to it then.

I pulled him back towards the sedan, he got in as I started it up. He sat down, pulling out Carlos’ journal again. It was old and raggedy, the pages were yellowed and coffee stained. The writing was scrawled in blue or black ink. I glanced over every once in a while, while I drove to make sure he was okay.

Within forty minutes we’d hit the city limits. Deckard glanced up, you could see the sea in the distance.

“Where are we going?” he asked looking around at the odd landscape. It was snowy but flat.

“You’ll see,” I comment. “You’ll like it, don’t worry,” I murmur, squeezing his thigh to reassure him.

He went quiet again returning to the journal.

Another hour and we were pulling up to the coast and a lighthouse my parents had owned and maintained when they were younger before they had me, one of my father’s brothers, Josh looked after it now. I hadn’t seen him in several years now though, the last time I came out here, I was eighteen and thinking about what I wanted to do after high school. This place was beautiful and peaceful no matter the season. The shoreline had rocks and sand covered in snow. The lighthouse stood tall, with black and white stripes. You could barely see the top with the snowy conditions currently.

Deckard looked up pausing in awe.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

“I told you, you’d like it,” I state with a small smile. “You should see it in the summer, surrounded by wildflowers, it’s even prettier.”

“I’m going to see if my Uncle’s here, stay here where it’s warm, okay?” I added.

“I don’t get cold,” he commented. “Put your hat on before you get out so your ears don’t freeze off.”

“It was your beanie originally,” I throw back.

“And I gave it to you because your ears were red and I didn’t want you to get sick,” he replied, still flipping through the journal.

“Okay,” I lamented finally leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, he looked up, flushing red, like humans, do when they blush.

I smiled, pulling on the gray beanie before getting out of the sedan. The atmosphere outside the car was freezing. I could see my breath and the falling snow was sticking to my coat and pants. The cold wind cut through my clothes with no problem so I hurried toward the door of the lighthouse.

I reached the door, taking a breath before I knocked. I heard movement inside before Josh came and opened the door. I could tell it was Josh, sure he was a decade older and had some grey in his beard now, but he looked almost the same.

“Lev?” he questioned as he was unsure.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Wow, it’s been a long time,” he commented.

“Yeah, I always meant to come visit but police work doesn’t allow for much vacation time,” I reply.

“Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold to stay outside,” he asks.

“I need to tell you some things before I do,” I replied quietly.

The summer after I graduated was spent here, it was beautiful and gave me some perspective, Josh gave me some ideas about what I could be, he’d been a police officer before coming to maintain the lighthouse so that was why he suggested it. Before this, no one other than my parents knew I liked guys. I remembered coming out to both of them, the world had changed a lot but there were still those people, I knew my parents weren’t those people but I didn’t know about Josh.

I remember I had my boyfriend at the time on speakerphone, he didn’t like that he was spending the summer away when we could have been hanging out, but I found him a little clingy. Josh walked in on us talking and I got nervous.

“Lev, you know I’ll be the last person to judge you, my life hasn’t been pretty,” he commented to me as I stood there in the snow hesitating.

It wasn’t, he’d told me that summer, almost a decade ago now about how he’d been assaulted, about mass shootings at gay bars back when he was younger, and other horrors, like the drugs he’d done and other stuff.

“I, we, need a place to stay, Seattle isn’t safe anymore,” I start quietly.

“Lev, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he states.

“I was working on a case, the person that they suspected, they’re a deviant really. I unknowingly befriended them and became involved, I know they’re innocent but no one else believes them because they’re a deviant and the person who actually did the crime is human,” I explain.

“You’re in love with a deviant?” he clarifies.

“Yes,” I reply.

“That’s it?” he states.

“I mean, there will be people after us once they find out we’re gone,” I continue.

“But you haven’t actually done anything wrong?” he continues.

“I’m harbouring a fugitive who didn’t actually do anything so yes and no,” I replied.

“You’re protecting him because you care. Does he feel the same?” Josh asks.

“Yes,” I reply.

Deckard might have been hesitant or denying his feelings but they were there.

“You’re doing the right thing, he’s innocent, he deserves to be free,” he states.

“You believe the deviants should be free?” I ask, in surprise.

“They only hurt people when they’re scared, if these people who had them at least treated them like people, they wouldn’t be getting hurt,” he commented.

He looks over at the sedan.

“Bring him inside,” he nods toward Deckard.

“Okay,” I reply quietly, turning away but I pause before turning back to Josh.

“Thank you,” I state.

“Don’t thank you, if the world had learned anything from before this wouldn’t be happening again, it never learns,” he hissed.

I don’t comment, I go back to the car and get Deckard and some of our things.

Deckard is watching me, I can feel it.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

I pause and look at him for a second.

“Yeah,” I answer.

But he seems to be able to read me like an open book and senses something is off. We hull our stuff into the lighthouse, Josh makes Deckard wary, but Josh does that to a lot of people at first.

He brings us down a flight of stairs to where there is a kitchen and living room just below the ground and off in another hall to one side of his bedroom and on the other end is another bedroom. He takes us to the guest bedroom and we set our things down. We have to make a few trips to bring the rest down from the main level before everything is in one room.

“I’ll let you settle in,” he comments before leaving us alone.

“Are you sure he won’t rat us out?” Deckard asks.

“Yes,” I reassure him quietly, stepping closer to him.

I put my hands on his shoulders and his come to rest on my hips.

“I promise,” I murmur touching my forehead to his. “We’re safe, for now.”