“Under the sink,” he sighed, after I’d forced him to sit down on the closed toilet seat and looked at him expectantly.
I opened the cabinet, located it, and pulled it out, placing it on the bathroom counter to go through its contents. I’d had enough scrapes and cuts when I’d tripped on the running track over the years, which I’d tended to myself in the school’s medical bay. It wasn’t the same, but I was sure I could make it work.
“Clothes off,” I told him, my tone leaving no room for argument. “I need to see where you’re hurt.”
Dex was quiet. Too quiet. He did what I asked, shedding his clothing piece by piece, revealing more bruises and evidence of what he’d been through. I watched his face when he winced slightly, indicating more soreness beneath the surface.
I started up the shower for him, and he stepped into it, washing off the surface grime and dried blood as I pulled what I wanted out of the first aid kit. Some things were empty, others mostly used up, and I wondered if he often came home like this and patched himself up. I hated the thought of anyone else being here to do it for him, but I found the thought of him doing it alone much worse. My throat tightened, somehow already knowing he had. He wouldn’t have to anymore. I was here now. I could do it for him.
Dex stepped out, and I handed him a towel. He was still silent as he dried off and sat back down.
I started by applying antiseptic to his split and bruised knuckles, which must have stung the open wounds, but he didn’t react. Then the antibiotic ointment. Then I wrapped them in gauze bandages. Next I took care of his lip, with the antiseptic and ointment. His eyebrow was still bleeding slightly, so after the ointment I pulled the split skin together with a closure strip. There wasn’t much I could do for the bruising. “Got an ice pack or any ice?”
He shook his head softly.
I cupped the cheek that wasn’t swollen gently in my hand. He turned into it, placing a kiss on my palm.
It occurred to me now just how different we were when it came to certain things like pain. When I was in pain, I was mean. I snapped at anyone who got close to me. I got loud and demanded attention because the ones who were supposed to take care of me weren’t there. When Dex was in pain, he was quiet. He madehimself smaller, and I had to wonder what that meant about the people who were supposed to have taken care of him.
I ran my thumb over the healed scar on his eyebrow, just next to the new split.
“What’s this from?” I asked softly, wanting to know all of his scars, so that I could know all of him.
“I used to have an eyebrow piercing,” he answered, just as quietly.
“And?”
“And now I don’t.”
I sighed, understanding that he didn’t want to offer any more information about it right now, and I wouldn’t push him for it. Instead, I reached for the hairbrush on the counter, gently pulling the long wet strands of his hair back out of his face before I started to brush them.
His eyes closed, head tilting back as I pulled gently through the locks. I’d never brushed anyone’s hair before but my own, but it was nice. I found it soothing, and I hoped he did too. Except when I looked at his face again, his eyes weren’t closed anymore. He was staring at me. Pale eyes. Ice that melted. Pools of emotion that welled until he couldn’t hold it all in anymore and he sobbed as they flowed over. Tears cascaded down his cheeks.
His hands found my waist, and he pulled me in, burying his face in my shirt, letting it soak up his sadness. I hugged him as best I could from my standing position.
“I lost it.” Words muffled by fabric, but still they sounded so broken. Distraught.
“What did you lose, baby?”
He cried harder. I held him, waiting patiently for him to let it out. When he was done, there was a damp patch on the front of my shirt, but I didn’t care.
“I lost my father’s lighter.” His voice was low and rough.
“Lost it where?”
“Bates.”
My fists clenched. “We’ll get it back,” I promised him, and itwasa promise. I didn’t know how, but I knew that I’d get it back for him if it was the last thing I did.
He nodded, pulling me closer again.
“Let’s go to bed.”
He sniffed and nodded, getting to his feet and following me to the bedroom.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Where’s yours?” I asked, but I handed it to him anyway.
