The soft whine of the night was prevalent through the half-opened window. Someone, somewhere outside, was plugging something in, creating a electric current through the outskirts and Kieran Key loved the sound. He sat crossed legged on the bed, the sheets rumpled around his ankles. Steady watching James as James was tinkering with a small, unhinged gear on his back.

“If you keep playing with it, it’s going to fall off. Why don’t you just call Mat?”

“Mat’s busy,” James snapped, looking up with a guilty spread of his lips. “Besides, I just want to see what it looks like. It’s just a bit holding the pinch together. The whole pinch can’t come undone.”

“If it came undone, you’d be dead,” Kieran pointed out.

“Relax, I’m not going to die.”

Kieran settled back to watch, wriggling his hands in his lap. Watching Jame struggle was a struggle in itself. His fingers kept missing the very edge of the gear, the sweat collecting keeping it too slick to catch. He bent his elbow back and pressed up, trying to get a good grip.

“James…”

“Not now, Key.”

“No, James…”

“I said not now!”

The matte black piece almost came apart in James’ hand. Nearly undone from the back of his skin where it was still seamed. A shot of pain flashed through James’ face.

“Come over here, let me help you,” Kieran tried again, his voice a bit softer. It cooed into the florescent room and James dropped his elbow. Flecks of blood were coming off the pricks in his fingertips. “Let me take it off for you.”

Without agreeing, but, without arguing, James slumped down onto the bed. Stomach onto the sheets, his back arched up, shoulders stern. Kieran smiled down at his skin, traced in sweat and salt from trying so hard. He began with a run of his fingers at his side and then up to the nap of his neck where the gear was hanging off from. The spokes were stained in the same blood as James’ fingertips.

“It’s stuck fast…” Kieran murmured, tugging at the spot where it clamped to the layers of James’ skin. With his nail, he pressed under it, picking it away. “I think it’s just a decorative piece…”

“No, there’s got to be some reason it is there. Mathias wouldn’t leave it there to look nice.”

“So, instead of leaving it on, you want to take it off and see it?”

“I can’t see my own back very well Key.”

“True…”

Kieran frowned, getting a grip on the piece and in one motion, pulling it off. James screamed. A perfect arc of blood followed and then stopped, clotting almost instantly. Kieran was left with the gear intact in his palm, splattered with blood. There was silence. Just James laying on his back, putting his breathing back together and just Kieran staring at the small, spoked circle. It felt heavier in his palm than it really was. Weighted with all the back history he knew and the work put into it. Heavy like the city behind them and the night around. Kieran tucked it into James’ palm, which was backstretched and facing out by his leg.

“This is part of you,” He whispered, “Hold onto it until someone else can put it back.”

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