“Does your medicine not help you? I couldn't help but notice you had quite a lot in your kitchen.”
“It helps mefunction, but that’s it.”
“Maybe it would help more if you weren’t mixing it with alcohol,” Cass whispered. “But I’m not a doctor or anything.”
“Have you ever dealt with chronic pain?”
“Uh. No.”
“Then shut up.” LA closed his eyes. “I have good days where I can work through it and the medicine helps me, but it still hurts. Getting up, sitting down, walking, bending over to grab something, whatever. It always fuckinghurts. The pain isalwaysfucking there and it never goes away.
“And then there’s the bad days, the ones where I can barely get out of bed or even take a shit because just trying to push down fucking hurts. So yeah, I drink, and yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t be mixing it with my meds, but I’m hurting right now and it’s the only goddamn thing that’s making me numb enough so I don’t want to fucking scream.”
Cass was quiet for a few moments. “Is there really nothing else that helps?”
“Never leaving my bed?” LA scoffed bitterly.
“Stretches? Yoga?”
“I am not doing fucking yoga.”
“But what about—”
“Cass. I am going to sleep now.” LA sighed. “We can work on solving all my damn problems tomorrow after I’ve had a good night’s sleep and when I’m sober, okay? I just wanna lie here and pretend today didn’t happen.”
Cass lightly patted LA’s foot. “Yes, of course. Rest is good. I know it may not feel like it right now, but you really have made a lot of progress and that is worth celebrating! We have a plan! Isn’t that neat?”
“Yup. So fucking neat.”
“You will reach out to Brannon—”
“Brandon.”
“—and reconnect, discuss opportunities to share your art, and—”
“Cass.”
“Oh! That’s me.” Cass grinned. “Yes?”
LA fidgeted before asking quietly, “Can you stay?”
“Stay?” Cass echoed.
LA closed his eyes, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. “I don’t want to be alone right now. And yeah, I still think you might be a figment of my fucking imagination, you are way too fucking cheerful to be sane, but…”
“But?”
“But I’m hoping figments don’t mind being the big spoon? At least until I fall asleep.”
“Of course.” Cass stretched out behind LA, gently wrapping his arm around him and snuggling in close. The bed creaked from his added weight, and there was a quick puff of air as he draped his wing over LA like a blanket.
LA inhaled sharply, surprised by how his heart ached to be held. Cass was warm, firm, and his fur was incredibly soft. LA hadn’t realized how starved for affection he was until now, and his eyes burned with the threat of tears.
God, maybe he was pathetic.
He was about to cry just because Cass was holding him.
“You can go whenever,” LA said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
