Chapter Twenty-Three
Bas fell asleep in Dane’s arms. He heard nurses come in and leave a few times, even roused once to use the bathroom, which they had to unlock for him. But no one tried to break them apart or reattach Dane’s bonds. It was around 7:00 p.m. when he woke enough to do more than roll over and stare at the man curled around him. Dane dozed lightly, but a nurse came in quietly to wake them.
“Huh?” Bas asked her.
“You both need to eat dinner.”
Bas’s stomach growled. Oh yeah, he hadn’t eaten since this morning, had he? He sat up, trying not to startle Dane awake.
“Dane is only good with uncooked foods like fruits and veggies. No meat. Is that possible?”
“I can make it happen. What about you?”
His throat hurt like crazy. At least he knew there was no permanent damage, just his mind fucking with him to cause a nasty panic attack on top of too much stress and his little brother’s attempt to choke the life out of him.
“Soup? Mushroom maybe? Anything soft.”
“All right. I’ll put the order in and be back in ten with your meds if you want to wake up your friend.”
The nurse left and Bas curled himself back into Dane’s embrace. He laid his head back on Dane’s chest and traced his jaw, fingers running through the beard.
“Hmmm?” Dane grumbled.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. Dinner’s on the way. You’ll eat for me, right?”
“Mhmm,” Dane said. He opened an eye to glance sleepily at Bas. “How you doing?” He reached out and carefully touched Bas’s bruised face. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah. Like a bad sore throat from a cold or something. I don’t recommend it. Maybe I can tell people I’m the new body double for Hugh Jackman, taking the hits for him to keep him beautiful.”
“You joke, but your brother could have really hurt you. It makes me so mad.”
Bas shrugged. His head was clearer now after the rest and hours not being stuck alone in his own head.
“These mental things are diseases that just go ignored for too long. I hope he gets help, put on some meds or counseling, something.”
“As long as you stay away from him.”
“That is the plan. What about you?”
“Me?”
“Tommy said you freaked out Sunday night after we brought you back to rehab.”
“My head was in a bad place.”
“And now?”
“It’s clearer. It helps not being alone, but I know I can’t rely on others to save me all the time. Especially if I don’t ask for help.”
“Amen to that. You want to talk about any of it? The stuff that is in your head?”
Dane was quiet so long that Bas began to think he wasn’t going to answer. Then he said, “You’re beautiful. Normal. Well, I know you’re not, ’cause your brain gets nuts too. But I keep thinking that to be around these great people, I have to be pretty great myself, and I’m not.”
“But you’re working on it. You have to work to be great.” Bas looked up at Dane and smiled. “Do you think all this queenly goodness you see before you just happened overnight? It took years to perfect.”
Dane smiled back. “I’m glad you’re here. That’s horrible to say because of what you’ve been through, but I’m happy you’re not alone. Were you really thinking about hurting yourself?”
Bas shrugged. “I thought about how if I were to kill myself, it wouldn’t be by trying to hang myself ’cause that shit hurt: the stars around my sight and the struggling for air. I’ve had months of self-defense classes and couldn’t think of a single thing to get out of that, though now I remember a half dozen options. Stupid how the brain stops working when we need it the most.”
