It surprised Sam his thoughts even went there. In a lot of ways, it was a positive sign. Maybe he was finally getting over Danny. Maybe his heart was healing and one day he would be able to love again. It was a good indication that things were finally moving in the right direction.
As soon as they got home, Sam made Tally get into the shower. He was quite sure river mud was terrible for cuts. He was surprised when Tally didn’t pout or argue, merely stared up at him with sparkling eyes and a happy grin before skipping off to the shower. Almost as if he liked being told what to do.
Sam groaned in dismay. That was not going to help the situation at all. He could only pray that Tally recovered quickly, before his will power was too tested. He rummaged through Danny’s things again to find another set of clean clothes.
Once out of the shower and dressed, Sam got Tally to sit on the bed while he put clean bandages on his wounds. The young man sat still and silent under his touch. Sam’s bandaging skills were no match for the nurse’s, and he looked at the clumpy lumps he had created in dismay. Tally didn’t seem to mind. He flashed him a quick grin before scampering off to the kitchen.
Sam put away his first aid kit and listened to Tally banging around in the kitchen. The young man seemed to be opening every cupboard and investigating every drawer.
“Make yourself at home.” muttered Sam to himself alone in the bedroom, surprised when he realized he didn’t actually mind.
He went into the bathroom and sighed in dismay. Tally had left wet towels and his muddy clothes strewn all over the floor. Sam shook his head and tidied everything away.
He walked to the kitchen and saw Tally had used the mortar and pestle Danny had bought for decoration, to mush up his weeds and was now leaning on the counter with a glass mug full of steaming green liquid.
“You’re not going to drink that!” Sam exclaimed.
Tally gave him a puzzled look. “That is the whole point?”
“It could be poisonous!”
“It’s not poisonous.”
“You don’t know that!”
Tally straightened up and gave Sam a very condescending glare. “I am a two thousand year old mage. I do know that.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are there many weeds growing in hell?”
“I haven’t forgotten my knowledge.” said Tally, scowling ferociously at him.
“I can’t let you drink that.” said Sam in his best stern voice. He couldn’t let Tally poison himself. This delusion was going too far. Hopefully, the young man really did like being told what to do and would listen without Sam having to wrestle it out of his hands.
Tally narrowed his eyes and glared at him. “You don’t believe me.”
Sam sighed. He felt like an asshole, but it needed to be done. “Show me some magic.”
He watched in dismay as blue eyes filled with pain and Tally’s shoulders slumped. His misery was so clear, Sam swore he could taste it on his tongue.
“I can’t.” whispered Tally.
Sam felt no sense of victory at all. He just felt awful. Ashamed. Even though he knew rationally, it was far better than Tally poisoning himself.
“This body cannot wield magic.”
The simple words had a strange effect on Sam. In the context of the delusion Tally had woven, they were awful.
“You chose being reincarnated without magic, to be with me?” he heard himself asking.
Tally left the kitchen counter and walked up to him, twisted his hands into Sam’s tee shirt and stared up at him intensely. “You are worth anything.”
Sam swallowed over the sudden lump in his throat, strangely moved. Unbelievably moved. Why on earth was he getting so drawn in? He shook himself free and pulled out his phone.
“Let’s see if google can identify these plants.”
Tally sighed and watched him. Looking at him as if he was humoring a small child. Sam ignored him. He soon found a plant identification app and got to work taking photos of the left over weeds Tally hadn’t mushed up.
“Oh.” Sam uttered in surprise. None of the plants were poisonous. All were edible, and all listed beneficial properties. “There are none in your tea that aren’t in this pile?” checked Sam. Just to be sure. As well as to seek an escape route for his sheepishness.
