Title: Vertiginous
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine
Fandom: Invasion
Pairing: Tom/Russell
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up through the entire series
Summary: Russell is off balance
Author's Notes: This has been discussed between cerebel and myself a lot. This fandom does not have enough fic by far.
September 2008

Nature did not apologize and it did not explain itself. Larkin had disappeared into the water one night, and several weeks later, Russell had gotten a phone call.

He had looked at the caller id and almost didn't pick up. He and Dave weren't talking to Tom and Mariel, at least not more than the basics of letting the kids see their mother every so often, and she was the only one that came over to the house, Tom kept his distance. But, this morning, Russell answered and it was Tom on the other end of the line.

"Don't hang up," Tom said.

"Why not?" Russell said, voice hoarse with the effort of not yelling. "We have nothing to say to each other."

"Go to the water," Tom said. "Where you found me that night."

"Why?" Russell asked.

Tom was silent for a second. "Something you've been looking for has been given back to you." Then he hung up, and Russell ran out to his truck.

He had been to the beach every night for five weeks, and then Jesse pulled him aside and told him that he had to be at home, and that his family needed him. He told himself it wasn't giving up, staying home, but it felt like he was saying that he didn't expect Larkin to turn up.

Tom was standing on a dune, watching the water. He didn't try and advance toward the water, but pointed at something at the beach.

When he jumped out onto the sand, Russell didn't expect to find anything, not really. Tom lied with every breath, and it wouldn't have been the first or even the tenth time that Russell had fallen for it.

There didn't seem to be anything on the shore except the rocks and waves, and Russell was cursing himself for listening to Tom again when he saw a shape at the waterline.

Even as he ran toward it, Russell knew who it was, and hoped that he was wrong, but knew there was no other way for it to have happened.

He hadn't thought to look back to where Tom was standing, but when he did, there was no sign of him. Holding Larkin close, Russell tried to ignore the way she stared at him in confusion, hanging on, but nowhere near as tightly as he was, and he felt like she was already slipping away.

A couple days later, Russell knocked on the door of the Underlay household, and when nobody answered, tried the handle, and it turned easily. He wasn't always completely welcome, but most of the time, Mariel was fine with him coming over. Now, he didn't have the usual reason, the kids were at his house with Larkin, but he needed to talk to Underlay.

"Mariel?"

"Russell?" Something clattered in the kitchen, and she came out into the hallway. "I was just about to go over and see Larkin, is something wrong?"

"No, she's okay, the Jesse and Rosie are with her."

"That's good, she shouldn't be alone, not after what she went through."

"What did she go through?" Russell asked.

That made her look away, and Russell swore.

"I know you don't want to tell me everything about your life, Mariel, and you don't have to, but this is about my wife, and what happened to her out there." He glanced around. "Where is he?"

"Tom is in the living room, with Kira."

"I need to talk to him."

"He's worn out, Russell," Mariel said. She didn't add what had made Tom so tired, but the way that she held back probably meant it had something to do with being a hybrid. For all Russell knew, Tom could have been searching for Larkin using something besides intuition or radar, he could have all kinds of abilities that he wasn't owning up to, and Russell just wanted to know what he could expect from Larkin. He might not ask nicely, but he was entitled to be angry and wouldn't deny it.

"It won't take long."

He didn't think he was fooling Mariel, but she was torn between looking in on Larkin and knowing that Tom and Russell barely got along when things were good. Now, she was right to be worried, but Russell tried to look bored and not furious.

"Seriously, if I want to know what happened to Larkin, what I should be doing, who else am I going to talk to?"

"Fine, but just for a few minutes." Mariel grabbed her bag off the coat rack, and spun around to face Russell again. "And if Kira or Tom tell me that you were rude, you're going to be very sorry."

"Got it, Mariel, I'll be gentle."

"Just don't push him, Russell, he's kind of raw right now." Mariel stepped off to the side. "Tom, Kira, I'm leaving, Russell is here."

"Okay, see you later," Kira called.

"Bye, honey," Tom said.

Russell waited until Mariel's car had left the driveway, and then he headed into the living room.

Kira was sitting with her back resting against the couch, and Tom was stretched out on it behind her, hand resting on her neck, stroking her hair as she spoke.

"How would you characterize the political strategy of Machiavelli?"

"In what context?" Tom asked, eyes still closed.

"Any," Kira frowned. "It sounds like he didn't care about what happened to other people."

"He just believed that when you were in power, you had to be prepared to be ruthless for the greater good." He sighed. "Yes, Russell?"

"Hi, Russell," Kira said.

"Hey, Kira, how are you doing?"

"Pretty good. Dad and I have been hanging out." Kira smiled over her shoulder at Tom, and he smiled back.

"What can I do for you?" Tom asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about some stuff." Russell kept his voice level, but he knew that Tom would understand what he meant.

"Sweetheart, would you mind going out and picking up something for lunch?"

His daughter wasn't fooled. "You want to talk about Larkin, and Mariel told you not to yell at him," Kira said.

"Yes," Tom said.

Kira frowned. "I don't want you to get into a fight."

"We won't," Russell said, but got a disbelieving look from Kira that surprised him.

"Dad?"

Tom sat up and kissed her on the forehead. "It's fine, Russell just wants to ask me some questions."

"About Larkin?" Kira looked uncertain, and Russell wondered how much she knew about the changes in her father and Mariel.

"And what happens to people when they have an experience like she did."

"No fighting?" Kira stared hard at her father.

"Sure."

"Don't break anything. Or each other. I'm getting hamburgers, and fries."

"That sounds great."

'And I want a milkshake," Kira said.

"Whatever you want."

Kira put her notebook on the table and got to her feet. "Okay, I'll be back in awhile." She gave Russell another hard look, and hugged her father. "I'll have my radio, call me if you need anything."

"Sure thing," Tom said. "Go on, I'll see you later."

Kira left, and Russell watched her go. "She's protective of you."

"Does she need to be?"

"Maybe," Russell said.

"I appreciate your honesty," Tom said.

"I wish I could say the same."

Tom pressed his hand against his forehead. "What do you need, Russell?"

"My wife."

"Isn't Larkin at your house, resting?" Tom asked.

"The Larkin that came out of the water isn't the woman I married." Russell shook his head. "I've got a stranger beside me every night, and you did this to her. I want to know what happened to her, and what I can do to help her get over it."

"This isn't something you overcome by denying it's happened," Tom said.

"Then what do you do, Tom?"

"You adapt, and learn to live with the changes."

"What if you can't?" Russell had seen what happened to the people who changed and were different, in a bad way. He didn't know if Larkin would go through that, or if she would be all right.

"You have to, there's no going back."

"You're sure?" Russell asked.

"Would you want to lose, Larkin, Russell? That's what would have happened."

"But it didn't, because you took her down to the water." Russell paused. "You took her down to the water, just like you did Mariel. What do you want with them? Or is it just any woman I've ever loved has to be taken from me by you?"

"That's not what I meant to do."

Russell shook his head. "Then what, Tom?"

"I saved her, Russell, she was dying and there wasn't enough time to get her to a hospital and she would have lost the baby either way."

"The point is, she lost the baby, our baby because of what you did." Sometimes she would hold her belly, searching for something that was gone, and every time he saw that, Russell froze, because then she stared at him and asked what was wrong, and he couldn't explain.

"Somebody shot her, that's why she had a miscarriage," Tom said.

"Don't try and put this on anybody else, you took her into the water, you knew what would happen."

"I hoped it would," Tom said, and made no apologies, even when Russell took a step forward.

"Why?" Russell clenched his jaw, trying not to punch Tom, at least not until he heard the rest of it.

"You would have lost your wife, Russell, and I know what that would do to you."

"This was some sort of kind gesture? Make my wife into a mutant or something so that I wouldn't lose her?"

"That's not the way I would put it, but basically, yes."

"Thanks for saving me from that," Russell said, and nodded convulsively. He lashed out, striking Tom on the jaw and knocking him sideways on the couch.

Tom pulled himself upright and wiped at the blood on his lip. "Did that help?"

"No, but this might." Russell didn't stop with one punch, he came at Tom with all of the tricks he'd learned as a kid, all the stuff he avoided telling Larkin he knew about, and Tom took it, protecting his face, but not tossing Russell off him like they both knew he could.

"Why are you doing this? To me, and everybody else in this town who isn't like you?"

Tom pushed Russel away, showing some of the power he'd been holding back.

"You're my people, Russ, all of you, and I want to take care of you, even if you can't always understand what I'm doing."

"You just want to control everything, including everybody that has ever trusted you. Is that what happened when you went into the water? You lost the ability to care about what you're doing to people?" Russell sneered. "Because you left that behind, whatever you are now, it killed the man you used to be."

"Whatever you think happened in the water-" Tom began, but was cut off.

"I have an idea," Russell said, grinding his teeth and trying not to strike out again.

"There is a gap between guessing and truth," Tom said. "You should be careful about making assumptions."

Russell frowned. "So clear them up for me."

Tom rubbed his face and stood up. "I'm going upstairs to lie down, we can talk about this later."

Russell followed him, anger still making him twitch with the need to hit Tom again, to do something, to make him react and open up.

"I'd rather do it now."

"I've already indulged you, Russ, I'm not up for any more interrogations tonight."

Instead of going into the bedroom and laying down, Tom walked into the master bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

Tom smiled over his shoulder. "You're interested in figuring things out, Russ, you tell me."

"Fine." Russell leaned against the door frame as Tom turned on the water. "I know a little already. Mariel and I examined her blood, and it was like that of a whale or other cetacean. But, when we've seen the creatures in the water, they look more like some kind of squid. Neither of those are native to this area, and I haven't been able to find out very much on them outside of Homestead, except for what Healey told me. So, are they an off shoot of one of those species? Or, a whole different variation?"

"Do you think I went looking for one to ask?"

"I'd want to know what I was turning into, but I think I have some idea of how you hybrids are able to do some of the stuff you can."

Tom spun the handle until the water stopped, and undid his pants. He stepped out of them and into the bathtub, still wearing his t shirt and boxers. He sat down, extending his legs and sliding back so that the water lapped around his chest, arms resting on the edge of the tub. Tilting his head back, Tom exhaled in what almost looked like relief.

"So, what do you think you know about us?"

Clearing his throat, Russell came into the bathroom and rested his hips against the counter. "You guys have an astonishingly high concentration of myoglobin in your muscles, and that's got to help you stay underwater for a long time."

"That makes sense."

"In what reality?" Russell asked. "People don't get attacked by strange life forms that take over their bodies. Not outside of horror movies."

"Then how do you explain what's going on here?"

"I don't know. Some of the time I think you're aliens, with the memories of who you used to be, and then I don't have any idea what to think. You aren't the same, that's for sure."

"Does it have to be bad? We all survived, isn't that something to be glad of?"

"Mostly, yeah," Russell said.

"But you still have doubts."

"Yeah."

"Even now?"

"You mean, since Larkin washed up on the beach, naked, apparently having never been pregnant? Yeah, Tom, I still have misgivings."

"We heal, Russell, and when we come out of the water, not everything that we were comes along."

"I get that." Russell bit his lip and looked down. They had barely started thinking of names for the baby, but Larkin already had a couple favorites picked out. Now he didn't think there wouldn't ever be any children between them. Too much had changed, and that wasn't the only thing that Tom was dealing with.

He thought of something that had been bothering him. "Let me see where you were shot."

"Excuse me?" Tom had relaxed into the water, and slid down further, closing his eyes, but Russell's command got his attention.

"You said that you heal, how well?"

"Russell."

"I want to see, Tom. Show me where Father Scanlon, supposedly your friend put three bullets in your back."

Tom gave Russell a knowing glance, but didn't protest any more. Sitting up, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor, sitting still, waiting for Russell to make his move.

Russell hadn't seen the wounds when Tom had been taken to the hospital, but he'd gotten a glimpse of bloody sheets and once, gauze in one of the trash cans in Tom's hospital room, just after his dressings had been changed.

"Show me," Russell said, and Tom sat up, still not objecting.

Russell pushed away from the wall and stared down at Tom. He scrutinized Tom's chest, but didn't see so much as a mark on him.

"Where were you shot?"

Tom pointed to the spots, and Russell shook his head. "That's impossible, but I saw the blood."

He reached out, and Tom stiffened as Russell's fingers traced where the bullet had hit him in the lower belly.

Russell didn't know if he was trying to make Tom flinch, or thought that Tom's skin would feel different, but neither happened.

"What makes you so much better than the rest of us? You don't look different."

"It doesn't show," Tom said.

Russell was stuck on that realization. "You look the exactly same."

Tom waited a couple seconds longer to see if Russell could get anything else out, and then he reached up and grabbed Russell, hands wet on his collar as he tugged him into a kiss. It only last a few seconds, then he let go, and sat back, leaving Russell staring at him and licking his lips, chasing the sensation.

"What was that?" Russell asked.

"You said that I've changed," Tom said.

"Yeah, but I can't tell that from a kiss, that's not something we've done on a regular basis, or ever."

"Maybe you should consider it," Tom said.

"I don't think so."

"Are you sure it wouldn't help?" Tom asked, with that hint of a smile that Russell guessed was Tom laughing at him without making the effort. Of all the things that Tom had done, it was just another one on top of them that he found worked on his thinned patience.

"No, you don't get to do that." He lunged forward and kissed Tom back, trying to get him to object and shove him away, but Tom went along with it.

He let Russell tilt his head to the side and ran his tongue over Russell's when he didn't keep his teeth away from Tom's mouth.

Tom reached out and pulled Russell off the floor until it was just easier to hang on from inside the bathtub, and they ended up on top of each other, the water splashing over the side, both of them soaked.

Russell struggled up onto his knees and straddled Tom, who moved through the water effortlessly, like he was born to it.

"How do you do that?" Russell asked.

"Water is our element."

"You definitely look at home in it." Russell stared at him a little longer. "How long can you hold your breath?"

Tom shrugged. "An hour or so."

"You're kidding."

Another smile, this one wider. "No."

"Okay then, how does that work?" Russell's curiosity was piqued and he pushed lightly on Tom's chest. "If I put you underwater, you'll be able to handle it?"

"That's right."

"What's it like?"

Tom seemed to be trying to find the words. "It's right." His face softened and Russell, having wondered, had to ask.

"What else can you do underwater?"

Tom smiled. "Do you want to find out?"

Russell braced his hands and shoved Tom beneath the surface without warning. He put his weight forward until Tom was flat on his back and staring up at him.

Tom didn't struggle even a little, but he was only still for a moment and then he locked his legs around Russell's hips and rolled them so that he was on top for a couple seconds, and then let himself be pushed down again.

"What the hell was that?" Russell asked as he wrestled Tom back under, but he got it, Tom didn't have to do anything, he was letting Russell have his way for now.

As he arched upwards, Russell had to hold onto Tom so he didn't get bucked off. They were grinding against one another, until they found a groove that worked, hot and sweet, and Russell fumbled to get their pants open.

Tom slid down his body, rubbing his face on Russell's stomach as he tugged his pants off without trouble. It was like he was in tune with the water, and more than that, was really enjoying himself.

Russell hadn't ever thought about doing anything more intimate than maybe knocking Tom down and making him stay there, but this was something that he was enjoying unexpectedly. As he lost control, he fell back against the side of the tub, breathing hard.

Tom slipped out from under Russell and rested against the opposite side of the tub, eyes on Russell.

Settling back into himself, Russell felt too much like he was having a special moment with Tom, and scrambled to his feet and out of the tub. He began looking around frantically, not caring that he was dripping on the rug.

"Towels are on the shelf," Tom said.

"Great, I just have to get dried off and change clothes," Russell said, trying not to look at Tom.

"You need to calm down, Russ."

"Don't tell me what I should do." Russell had found a towel, but couldn't decide what to do next. His clothes were wet, and it would look really strange if he went home like that.

In contrast to his confusion, Tom was calm. "There are some sweat pants on the next shelf, and you can wear my shirt."

Looking down and away, Russell considered not saying anything, but as he changed, and rolled his wet clothes up, he let it out. "Thanks."

Tom turned his head languidly, eyes on Russell, but he didn't show any signs of Russell's panic, and looked kind of sated and a lot better than he had a little while ago.

"Feeling all right?" Russell asked, wanting to be sure of his footing, and able to find it.

"Yes," Tom said.

"Okay." Russell patted himself off with a towel, and let Tom keep staring at him. It was less threatening than him climbing out of the tub as well, and he guessed that was part of the reason Tom was staying put. He hated that Tom knew him well enough to know how he would react, and that he'd been able to figure out what Russell needed, but he was realizing that what Tom knew might just save their family too. Somehow, he was going to have to learn to adjust to that, but he didn't have to admit it outright. "We need to get some things clear, but I'll talk to you later, all right?"

Tom smiled. "Tell your wife hello for me, Russ, and let me know if you need anything else."

Russell headed down the stairs, but at the last second, glanced back to see Tom still seated in the tub.

He breathed out and slid back under the water again, as easily as if he belonged there, which, Russell reflected, he did, and that might be something he could get used to.

-end