Hours and a great deal of pacing later, Rex comes over to tell me Jack will be okay. They've put him under, and with his Liquid Onyx blood, he'll heal within a day. I'm so relieved it almost takes me to my knees. I have to lean back against the wall and resist the urge to slide down it until my arse hits the floor.
Rex sets me up in a chair at Jack's bedside, ignoring the dodgy looks from his co-workers. He goes away and comes back with a bowl of water and a flannel. I let him sit beside me in another chair he stole from somewhere and gently wipe at my hands, slowly removing the dried black blood from my skin.
Jack is laid on the medical bed, the bright lights overhead illuminating his lax form. He looks beaten and exhausted even in medically induced unconsciousness. His skin is paler than usual, and his face is swollen all over. They've washed away most of the blood, but his injuries still look awful. There are bandages around his head. Dan practically caved in his skull as well as pulverising his face.
For once I count every blessing there is that Jack was genetically modified as a child and is capable of surviving things that would kill most people.
There's an IV stuck in his arm, providing pain-relieving meds and saline to keep him hydrated.
I can't take my eyes off Jack, can't stop myself from cataloguing every split of skin, every fast-forming bruise, every mark his brother left behind. Soon these injuries will heal, and the marks will fade.
Part of me thinks Jack will be pissed by that. He'll hate the idea of his brother's presence, the marks of his return, disappearing as if they were never there. As if Dan were never there.
When Rex is done cleaning one hand, I use it to touch Jack's arm, relishing the reaffirming heat of his skin, running my fingers along it until I reach his wrist. I curl my fingers around it, keeping them pressed to his pulse and counting the beats to reassure myself of his well-being, the resolute sign of continued life.
"So, are you gonna tell me what's going on between you and the sexy mutant?" Rex asks, forcing me to split my attention between him and Jack.
Rex has a terrible brain-to-mouth filter. He just says whatever's in his head, regardless of how awkward it is. It's occasionally embarrassing but mostly hilarious to the people around him. I know for a fact, Damon enjoys it immensely.
"The sexy mutant?" I question, a bit incredulous, my voice scratchy from lack of use.
Rex, always the natural caretaker, hears the crack in my voice and immediately rushes off to grab me a cup of ice-cold water from a nearby cooler. I take the cup gratefully and sip from it slowly, afraid I'll gag if I try to drink too fast. When I'm done, I put the empty cup down on the floor next to my seat.
"Yeah, you heard right," Rex scoffs, his response rapid-fire. Where most people shoot out words like bullets from a Glock, Rex has a machine-gun mouth. "I didn't even stutter. Used full words and everything. You got no excuse to be making me go through the effort of repeating myself. Don't be a waster."
Rex is giving me the full benefit of his unwaveringly intense gaze. It's discomforting how perceptive that gaze is, the intelligence most say he inherited from his dad clear to see. He has the staple sky-blue eyes and white-blond hair as well as the slim build and pretty, fae-like features of most Novas. I somehow bypassed most of those genes, taking more after my mother's side. Rex, on the other hand, looks exactly like my uncle Alex, like my father.
"Me the waster? You're the one who can't even be bothered to repeat one fucking sentence in a time of great stress for your favourite cousin. Maybe I just want to hear your dulcet tones to soothe my fragile state of mind."
"Okay, a number of things for all that shit." Rex holds up three fingers and counts them off as he talks. "One, there is no stress. Your sexy mutant will be fine. Benefits of being a mutant,hello. Two, you're myonlycousin. Got no choice but to tolerate you, so check that ego, thanks. Three, my voice is melodic as fuck, thanks for acknowledging this truth; it's about time someone did." Then Rex gives me a more serious look, which is a scary thing to be on the other end of, and adds with stunning sincerity, "There's not a single fragile thing about you, you lying bitch. You're one of the strongest people I know. You're a goddamn Nova."
I have no clue what to do with any of that, so I revert our attention to the original issue at hand. "Sexy mutant, though?"
Rex glowers at me, unimpressed. "Stop trying to stall." He jerks his chin at Jack. "Tell me about your whatever-the-fuck-it-is with the blond meanie."
"Blond meanie?" Jesus, the names are getting worse. I have a sneaking suspicion that might be what all of medical has been calling Jack since his first visit. When medical gives you a name, however incorrect or ridiculous, it tends to stick. In six years, I haven't managed to convince them to stop calling me "hedgehog hair." I'm almost certain that's what they have on my medical chart rather than my actual name every time I come in.
"Leo!" Rex hits me as punishment for not complying with his wishes. It bloody hurts. Despite Rex's small size, he can pack one hell of a punch. His father, as well as Damon, made sure to train Rex up even before he decided to follow his family's footsteps and become an agent.
"Why do you think there's anything to tell about Jack and me?" I ask weakly, averting my gaze and focusing on Jack so I won't have to see Rex's shrewd assessment.
"Novas know Novas," Rex answers simply. It hits something funny inside my chest to hear that. That's a phrase my dad used to say. I've heard my uncle Alex say it too.
Feeling oddly helpless, I let out a very pathetic whinging sound that may or may not form words. "I have no idea what to say."
Rex doesn't seem any more impressed by this than I expected him to be. "The truth would be good, probably." He makes a face at me as if a thought has just occurred to him, and he needs to beat it to death. "It's not like I'm going to judge you for having feelings or whatever for him. It doesn't matter to me that you're partners, or he's a killer, or any of the other reasons you think I'd care about."
I don't doubt that. Rex isn't the judgemental type, not really. He might talk a lot of shit, but he's got a kind heart as much as he'd hate for me to point that out. Damon is always saying how alike we are on the inside, however different we look. He used to say that you might not see the family resemblance, but you'llfeelit if you get to know both of us. Rex and I proceeded to take the piss out of him for being so soppy without a warrant.
"What did you do when you accidentally caught feelings for Damon?" I ask, thinking it might help to know how my prickly romance-allergic cousin let my best friend into his heart.
"Denied them a whole lot," Rex answers with a shrug. "Pushed him away. Convinced myself he'd never understand me, and even if he did, that understanding would only drive him away in the end."
I wince in sympathy. "Sounds painful and dramatic."
"It was. I fought him hard." Rex's mouth splits into a begrudging smile. "But Damon is a stubborn bastard. He kept trying, put up with all my shit, proved to me every day that I was wrong, and he was right. You know how much he likes being right, so it wasn't too much of a hardship for him."
"He's sick in love with you," I tease, feeling a tired smile stretch across my face, thinking about how obsessed I know Damon is with his boyfriend. "It's hilarious and disturbing."
