Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

tucked it in. He stilled and looked Ty over. “You look exhausted,” he said frankly. He hadn't noticed before, but Ty had the look of a man who had been burning both ends of the candle. “Have you been sleeping at all?” he asked worriedly.
    "Don't take my insomnia personally,” Ty responded wryly. “I don't."
    Zane glanced up. “Insomnia.” He frowned and went back to his boots. “Sorry,” he said curtly. “I've heard it sucks."
    "What?” Ty prodded as he saw the reaction.
    "What what?” Zane asked, not looking up from his lacing.
    "What was the look for?” Ty asked defensively.
    Zane pushed away the threatening nerves and clamped down on his emotional reaction, one that came to the surface far too quickly for his liking. “There was no look,” he said stubbornly.
    "Bullshit,” Ty huffed as he sat back up and leaned back on his hands.
    Zane finished tying off the shoe and started in on the second, deliberately not looking up at all. He wasn't getting back into all the screeching violins stuff. He'd finally fucked Ty into a somewhat human condition. No way did he want to ruin that. Zane already felt totally off-kilter—something he'd very much like to blame the other man for—and his handle on himself felt shaky. He hated feeling shaky. It reminded him too much of withdrawal.
    Ty picked up a pillow and chucked it at him, hitting him on the top of the head as he bent over. Zane closed his eyes and growled dangerously deep in his throat. Okay, so maybe in human condition was a slight overstatement. He kept on lacing. Next thing, he predicted, Ty would accuse him of clamming up again.
    "Fine,” Ty sighed with a roll of his eyes as he pushed himself off the bed. “You wanna have an ulcer at forty, be my guest,” he grumbled.
    "Fuck off,” Zane muttered. He'd missed out on the ulcers by some miracle, but he didn't remember his fortieth birthday. He wasn't sure he remembered any of that year, actually. He leaned on his knees and closed his eyes, head bowed. Zane wished he didn't remember the horrific and heart-wrenching dreams that had plagued him after Becky died. And he certainly didn't want to try to explain how he'd wished and wished and pleaded for insomnia, time and time again.
    "Oh, Christ, not again, Garrett,” Ty muttered in exasperation. “Really?” he asked incredulously. “Do we need to get a shrink in here for you?"
    Anger flared, and Zane stood abruptly. “There's no goddamn shrink that can help me at this point, asshole. You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking that there have been nights I would have taken insomnia for a blessing. Now, stick the fucking orchestra and get dressed so we can get out of here."
    "Idiot,” Ty hissed derogatorily. “You're so used to running and hiding from your problems you can't get your head out of your ass. You're letting your past run your life, and I'm getting fucking tired of it."
    "And I suppose you have all the answers, Dr. Grady? Got that head-shrinking degree in your back pocket all nice and shiny? You have no idea what I've got in my past to deal with,” Zane growled.
    "And I don't wanna know,” Ty stated with no compassion. “Past is the past for a reason."
    "And some of us had a good enough one at some point to want to remember it, despite all the nightmares,” Zane snapped back. “Until you understand what it means to have your head put in a goddamn blender while you try to hang on to something precious, quit giving me this shit."
    Ty gaped at the man, wondering if he even had the right to bring up all the nights of hell he and his Recon boys had gone through over the years. If Zane knew the things he dreamed, he might not be complaining quite so much. Finally, he decided that this stupid argument wasn't worthy of bringing it up, and he waved his hand dismissively.
    Zane blinked as Ty just blew him off. “Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered, turning to start shoving his things in his pockets. He was working with an emotionally stunted asshole. Come to think of it, it explained so much. Zane had to swallow as much on the residual anger as on the pity he didn't dare let the other man see.
    Ty changed quickly into something that wouldn't get him kicked out of the federal building. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and shook his head angrily, muttering to himself. Zane was starting to piss him off again. Which was good, he supposed. It meant the urge to lick him all over was passing, at least. He took a deep