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Alexander’s heart broke for them, and he made a decision then and there. He was going to help them however he could. He was going to make it right, his own happiness be damned.

And he did help them find that happiness. During the days when Alexander and Martin were away from their homes, the beaus spent half their time together. Since Alexander’s home already had a doting staff, Goose wasn’t expected to lift a finger. So, most mornings he would head down the street and greet Duck with a smile and hug before focusing on their daily tasks, cooking and cleaning for Master Martin Moore.

Then Alexander found them together one day. He hadn’t meant to surprise the beaus, and he cursed himself for forgetting his wallet at home after the fact. He wanted them to have their time, but didn’t want to let on that he knew, because he worried it might make them flee, and then he couldn’t protect them.

As the men shook in terror on Alexander’s bed, he crawled on with them, sitting in front of both men. He held his hands out for them, but they stared down at the hands for ages. Duck was the first to move. Shaking like a leaf, he trustingly placed his hand in Alexander’s. There was so much hurt and fear in the man’s eyes, and with a gentle brush of his thumb across Duck’s knuckles, his entire body relaxed. Goose’s sniffle pulled Alexander’s attention away from Duck, and he stared at the man who was supposed to be his happily ever after, his heart thumping faster. When they connected, just as with Duck, Goose exhaled, and his body went lax.

“I’m not angry,” Alexander started, because of course, he wasn’t. How could he ever be angry about love?

“You’re not?” Goose asked. He narrowed his eyes, but it wasn’t in a menacing way. It was like he was studying Alexander for sincerity, holding out hope that luck was finally on his side. “But, we’re—”

“I know. I’ve known for a while.” Alexander fixed a smile on his face, because he was happy, he thought. He was happy for his houseguest. He was pleased Duck and Goose had found pleasure where they could. But there was a low, humming feeling, deep down, right to his core, pulsing out waves of something that felt a lot like envy. Maybe not envy at Duck for claiming Goose specifically, but it was strong and true.

So, their lives went on. For four months, Duck and Goose would spend their days together, and Alexander would sit with Goose when the night grew late and Duck’s bedroom light lit up down the street.

On an unfortunate Tuesday night, shortly before it all came to a head, Duck lost his way. He and Martin took a trip, and when they returned, Duck no longer remembered Goose. It was as if they’d never met.

They realized what happened at a neighborhood block party. Alexander was carrying a cooling bowl of potato salad, and thanks to the humid heat of Northeast Texas, condensation dotted across the crystal bowl. Goose has been beside himself the week Duck was away. He clung to their photographs, staring at them, trying to return to the memory. He slept a lot, and told Alexander he was replaying memories of Duck like movies in his head while he charged.

Goose was staring down and kicking a patch of gravel when Duck approached, his smile wide, eyes bright as a baby’s. He looked up at his purchaser adoringly in a way that made Alexander’s stomach sink.

“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Doug.” He placed his hand on Martin’s chest, displaying an extravagant ring. “And this is my husband, Martin.”

Goose jerked his head up, his mouth gaping. “Duck?” Duck flinched but recovered quickly. Martin noticed and didn’t look very happy.

“Doug,” Duck corrected. “Doug Moore. It’s very lovely to meet you. Have you lived here long?” Martin turned, flagging down a man carrying an ice chest. As he trotted toward the man, Goose took his opportunity, rushing forward and wrapping Duck in a hug.

“Ducky-duck, I missed you so much,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning. I’m going to—”

“Are you okay?” Doug/Duck interrupted, sounding confused. “While I do love hugging, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” He shimmied out of the embrace and took a step back, staring at Goose like he was a stranger.

“Baby?” he whispered. “Duck?”

He took another step back. “Why do you keep calling me that?” As he took another step back, Alexander thought he saw a flash of blue light in the corner of his eyes. A brief spark of sadness laid clear for all to see. “Why are you— What are you—” Suddenly, Duck slammed his eyes shut and shook his head, backing away.

“No.” It wasn’t really a statement. It wasn’t much of a question either. It was a resignation. The initial shock of loss. “Not again.” And then Goose lost himself. He looked at Alexander, tears pooling in heartbroken eyes, somehow keeping his voice neutral when he said, “Martin had him reprogrammed.” His jaw trembled. “Duck is gone.”

“What do you mean, he’s gone?”

Goose sniffled. “Mother strips our mind and we start over from scratch.” Alexander brushed a tear from Goose’s eye, but Goose backed away until his back was against Duck’s chest, eyes closed, breathing in, his exhale escaping as a sigh. “They’ve done this to him once before. When we were still at Mother’s. We spent a month with each other, sharing a room . . .” He looks over his shoulder at Duck, eyes cautious but hopeful. “Partners in crime. Do you remember? Please?”

Duck blinked a few times, but it was like he couldn’t put words together.

Goose turned and cupped Duck’s cheeks, forcing the biggest smile Alexander had ever seen. “I told you last time, I won’t do this without you. Not again. Never again.” He leaned in and kissed Duck’s forehead, his lips locked in place as he lifted his arm and drew the shape of a star a few inches above his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, Goose smiled sadly at Alexander. “I need you to do me a favor, Alexander.”

“Anything,” he promised, and he meant it. At least, he thought he did, because what Goose said next had Alexander’s eyes bulging and his head shaking slowly back and forth.

“Please, don’t wake me up. He’s gone, and I want to go too. You’ve been kind to me, Alexander. Kinder than anyone else would have been. T-thank you.” Tears trickled down his cheeks, and he turned, giving Duck a final kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Goodnight, Ducky-duck.” Then Goose powered himself off.

Alexander rushed to catch him and then quickly carried him home before anyone could see his lifeless body. As he ran toward their house, he glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. Curiously enough, one man was. On the other side of the street, standing beside Alexander’s cooling bowl of potato salad, a tear was trickling down Duck’s cheek. He was staring at them with an unreadable expression, then he turned and returned to his husband.

Five nights later, their world went up in flames.

The night before everything changed, Alexander woke to the sound of weeping and wails so loud they rattled the bedroom walls. When Alexander brought Goose home, he placed him in bed. He slept at Goose’s side for three nights before deciding Goose wouldn’t want Alexander to waste away worrying over him in his powered-down state.

Still, he checked on Goose when he returned home, hoping he may have somehow switched himself back on, deciding to take life into his own hands. That wasn’t the case, so Alexander quietly shut the door, walking away from Goose’s bedroom, once again feeling like a man alone on an island. He had no friends to call and lift his spirits. His mother was probably fast asleep. It was at that moment, Alexander realized he wanted connection. He needed something—someone—tangible to cling to when the nights were long and his heart was heavy. And while he cared for Goose and wanted him to be happy, he hadn’t ended up being the partner or friend Alexander hoped for.

He was only asleep for an hour before the sounds of crying jolted him awake. Standing, Alexander rushed toward the source. When he entered Goose’s bedroom, a giant weight lifted from his shoulders, and it felt like he could finally breathe.

In Goose’s bed, Duck held him close to his chest, rocking the crying automaton back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Goosey-goose,” he whispered; his eyes were wet, but his cheeks were dry. He was trying to hold back his hurt so it wouldn’t eclipse the ache in Goose’s heart.

“I don’t understand,” Goose eventually said. “You were gone. I saw you. You didn’t recognize me.”

Duck nodded, his lip trembling. “You needed to forget me.”

“What?” he growled. “Why the hell would I ever need to forget you? You’re mine, Duck. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Duck shook his head insistently, a look of devastation wrapped around his face like a mask. “I’m not yours. Not anymore. I belong—” His throat clicked, and the words wouldn’t come for a while. When they did, Duck’s voice was soft and resigned. “I’m his property. I belong to him. We ain’t ever gonna get to run away together. I’m always gonna be stuck with him.”

“But we can keep going the way we are now,” Goose insisted. “We’re happy for the most part. We get to see each other every day. Baby, you can’t just throw us away. We’re bonded.” He placed his hand over Duck’s heart and closed his eyes. “Can you still feel it? Our tether.”

“I do,” Duck admitted. “And that’s why you gotta let me go. If we can make the tether snap, I can bond with Martin. I’ve been reading Mother’s Manual, and she says the bond between a master and his beau is strong enough to dull the worst kinds of pain. Maybe if I bond with him, it won’t hurt as much when he . . .” He closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing the memories away, Alexander thought. “I ain’t strong like you, Goosey-goose. I ain’t cut out for the pain he puts me through. It hurts.” Tears slip from the corners of his closed eyes. “You said you’d protect me, but you can’t protect me no more. I gotta protect myself.” Duck leaned forward and pressed his face into Goose’s chest. “I gotta let you go.”

“Then why did you wake me up? If you needed to get rid of me that much, why didn’t you just keep me powered down?” The words were bitter, but the bitterness was meant to mask the hurt. Alexander could tell, so he had no doubt Duck could see through it too.

“Because I love you, and I ain’t gonna let you stay powered down forever. You’re too good, Goose. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I’m not gonna let that go to waste. I can’t be free. I ain’t got a master who will let me live my life by my rules. You do.”

“I’m sorry. Baby, I’m so sorry. I’d trade places with you in a second if you could. I’d take everything he has to give if it kept you safe.”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing Goose gently. “But you can’t. You can’t live my life for me, but you can live yours. You can live a big, beautiful life, and you can do it for me. I want you to be happy. So, you go out there, and you forget me, Goose. You forget me, and then you find a life worth living.”

Cradling him against his chest, Goose combed his fingers through Duck’s hair. “How could I ever forget you, my love?”

“Or,” Alexander interrupted, as a surge of something he hadn’t felt in a long time passed through him. The urge to make things right, no matter the cost. Justice for the hurt and battered automatons he’d met along the way. He had to save them, the way he couldn’t save Anthony. “You can let me help.”

The men looked up at him with wide, confused eyes.

“What do you mean?” Goose asked.

Alexander walked across the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “There’s a place I know of. A place where people start over.” He smiled at Goose. From what Alexander could tell, Goose was putting it all together in his head like a jigsaw puzzle. When it finally registered, a smile as wide as Dallas herself split his face and Alexander nodded. “Mom loves you. She already thinks of you as a second son. Let me take you there.” Alexander looked down at Duck, placing an arm on both of their shoulders. “Let me take you both to live with her. He won’t find you there, I promise.”

The bonded beaus shared a look, a silent conversation taking place right in front of Alexander’s eyes. Duck nodded, then Goose.

“All right,” Duck said, and Goose let out an overwhelmed cry, throwing his arms around Duck.

“Pack your things while he’s at work tomorrow,” Alexander told Duck. “We’ll pick you up at eight.”

That was the plan, at least. But the plan was shot straight to hell only three hours later when Alexander startled awake at the sound of breaking glass. He jolted out of his bed and rushed downstairs, heart still slamming as he rushed toward the sound of men talking in the kitchen. Alexander rounded the corner, his eyes going wide. Duck was sitting on the kitchen island’s counter, and Goose was standing in front of him, dabbing a damp wet cloth across Duck’s cheek.

“Guys?” Alexander called out.

Goose startled, looking over his shoulder with a look of guilt stretched across his face. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I messed up.”

“What do you mean?”

Goose flushed. “He found us. Martin. He was supposed to take his sleeping pill, but he didn’t, and he found us together.” As Goose removed the cloth from Duck’s face, Alexander had to swallow down bile. There was a long gash across Duck’s cheek and the slashed edges of his skin were covered in dark, congealed blood. Where skin once grew, a strip of Duck’s mechanical skull was fully visible. Alexander knew he needed stitches, but Goose was already on it, putting his sewing lessons to use as he stitched Duck whole again.

As the pair proclaimed their love for one another, Alexander slipped out of the room and headed for Martin Moore’s home, three doors down.

Then came the fire. Then came the fallout. Accident or not, Alexander never told Goose what happened that night. It was a secret he planned to take to his grave.

When he returned, both Goose and Duck had gauze wrapped around their wrists, and there was blood seeping through the bandages. The pair weren’t the only ones with blood on their hands, but Alexander kept his hands shoved into his pockets, hiding the ugly truth from his precious friends.

“The tracking chips are out?” he asked.

Goose nodded, darting his eyes toward two small computer chips resting on the kitchen island. “They came out easy.”

“Good,” Alexander said, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’ve arranged for transportation, but we have to be at the pickup location in an hour and a half, so we need to get going.” Goose and Duck shared a fearful look, but Alexander gave them a reassuring smile. “I promise you’re both safe now. No one is going to find you. I’ll see to it.”

Then Alexander, Goose, and Duck traveled, first by car, then by ferryboat. And the rest, as they say, was history.