Lights Out (Sean)

Sean’s natural sense of caution made him well-suited to disaster preparation. He had a mental checklist for each natural disaster, since there was no guarantee that the weather manipulators could keep the storm at bay. Particularly given that the storm was being described as a “Frankenstorm”, a combination of two or three storms including a hurricane that had killed five dozen people in the Caribbean.

The telepath had spent most of the day cooking to ensure that they would have food. He’d also stocked up on shelf-stable staples that didn’t require cooking, such as bread and peanut butter. The cell phones had been charged, bathtubs had been filled with water should they lose water service, batteries were in each flash light and lantern, and they had the hand-crank radio in the kitchen.

The flickering lights had caused him to put the finishing touches on their food. When they had flickered once more before remaining off, he had immediately turned on one of the lanterns to provide a bit of light to the kitchen. Given that his night vision was less than stellar, lanterns were his friends.

“I know you object to the Boy Scouts for many of the same reasons I do,” he began, turning in the direction of his partner’s voice. “But they did teach me how to make coffee over an open fire.”

Fortunately, they had a gas range rather than electric stove.

“That pyrokinetic is named ‘Sam,’ and if you’re worried about burning the house down, he will guarantee that it happens.” Josh didn’t work at Hammel, and thus his knowledge of the students came secondhand. However, any faculty member knew how notoriously poor Sam’s control over his abilities was. Sean doubted that anyone would trust him to cook, not if they wished to have shelter after the attempt.

Sean brought the food over to the middle of the kitchen table, setting down a platter of chicken and another of rice and vegetables. That would suffice for supper, and he hoped that power would be restored such that they needn’t begin eating uncooked staples.

Of course, they had more than enough of those should the power remain out.

“But if you don’t want me to make coffee, then we can have something cold.” It was that simple as far as the telepath was concerned. He could either make coffee over the stovetop, or they could open a bottle of wine and entertain themselves that way.

“We can listen to weather alerts on the radio,” he added, walking carefully through the vague illumination to find the silverware. Once found, he set those down with a clatter in the center of the table, waiting for Josh’s preference for beverages.

With the confirmation that his partner wanted cold beverages, Sean went over to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a bottle of beer and the jar of home-brewed iced tea for himself. After supper, he would move the food from the freezer that he’d made particularly for this purpose down to the refrigerator, to keep that food cold.

He chose not to correct his partner’s thought regarding fire. These were the aspects of being partnered that people didn’t discuss in relationship counseling: the need to maintain one another’s dignity, even through delusions. They had a working fireplace and a stove that didn’t require electricity, but those were both beside the point at the moment. Better not to remark on it at all.

The telepath set the beer down in front of his partner, before settling down in his own chair. “I’d be happy to go upstairs afterward.”

The house would become cold soon enough, with no electricity downstairs. Up in the bedroom they could conserve body heat and the addition of blankets would make it better. “I’d meant the radio could be used to monitor the weather report, but we could try to find music if you wanted.”

Or they could revive the lost art of conversation.

Sean was less concerned by the weather. There were risks, of course, primarily that a tree could fall on their house and hurt one or both of them. Or that there could be an electrical fire the moment the power came back on. Or the inevitable flooding. However, those weren’t worth panic, since they had prepared as best they could. And, should something happen, they would flee.

Until then, he was content to ride the storm out with Josh.

The telepath waited for his partner to serve himself before he took the spoon and began to pile a portion onto his plate. Unlike Josh, he wasn’t concerned about the food immediately becoming cold; he was familiar enough with cook times and bad weather. He’d lived half his life in Vermont, between his years at Hammel as a student and then moving for work those decades ago.

He scoffed lightly at the teasing remark. “If you want romantic, I have other suggestions,” he pointed out. He reached for the iced tea, pouring himself a glass before setting the container down in the center of the table.

After all, there was plenty that they could do in the dark. Activities that didn’t require excellent night vision, primarily because they were familiar enough that they didn’t need to be able to see well at all.

Sean had been content to eat more slowly than Josh. First, because he wasn’t afraid of the weather; while hurricanes were unpleasant because of the effects, he had no fear of darkness, rain, wind, thunder, or lightning. Second, because he had lived through more than his share of storms in his life, and while the media was portraying this as terrifying, it had ceased to be a hurricane – technically – when it reached U.S. soil. It was still a tropical storm combined with a blizzard, but it could be worse.

However, watching his partner scarf his food brought speed to the telepath’s fork. He was careful, as he didn’t want indigestion, but he did keep pace with the younger man. Close to it, at least.

“There’s some food wrapped in paper towels in the freezer,” he informed his partner, before bringing the last few forkfuls of rice to his mouth. Swallowing, he instructed, “Take those out and put them in the refrigerator; they should help to keep the food cold.”

Finished with his food, he rose from his chair to begin clearing the table. “We could use your Nook to find something to entertain us,” he suggested, as they didn’t have Internet and he wanted to preserve cell phone battery for a bit. The Nook had been his present to Josh for the latter’s birthday, aside from the outing to the club and the performance.

“Or we could do an inventory of our supplies and regroup from there.”

Sean appreciated the suggestion in the spirit in which it had been meant. He and Josh had engaged in reading together before, sharing materials or one or the other of them reading aloud. He found nothing patronizing in the suggestion, because it was something that they had done before, and he enjoyed it.

While Josh tended to the leftovers, the telepath cleared the table, throwing out napkins and bringing used dishes and silverware to the sink to be washed.

“The Nook has backlighting,” he reminded his partner. While it wouldn’t be as illuminated as it would be if it was plugged in, there was still sufficient light to read.

Sean then chuckled lightly to himself, because it was apparent that his subtle hint had been a bit too subtle. Since Josh and he didn’t appear to be on the same page, even though they’d been discussing activities for the bedroom. “Everything has batteries, and all of the first aid kits have sufficient items. Those aren’t the supplies I wanted to inventory.”

That was coupled with a raised eyebrow as he turned to look at Josh. It was likely wasted, given how dark it was and how neither of them had particularly good night vision.

Flipping a coin had never appealed to Sean as a means of problem solving, although he had recommended it to patients before. Specifically, flipping a coin to see if the result upset the person who had to make the decision. If so, then to do the opposite.

Hearing Josh come behind him, Sean stepped out of the way. He and his partner had a routine when it came to clearing the table, and he didn’t want to interrupt Josh’s part of that routine. As such, he finished clearing the table and then picked up a towel, prepared to dry after Josh washed.

Because he wasn’t shielding, both because he was home and because he liked to be vigilante in emergencies, Sean overheard Josh’s train of thought. He didn’t think that his partner should be so hard on himself for discomfort with the weather, but he also knew the folly in bringing that up with Josh and putting the other man on the spot. It was best to circumvent the situation in a more subtle way.

“We could just cuddle,” he said. “We can gather the blankets from the other bedrooms and put them all on the bed before making ourselves comfortable. We could bring some ice cream upstairs too.”