I can’t explain it, and I don’t care to understand the reasoning behind it, but if Knuckles says one more fucking bad thing about this man… I’ll kill him.
Brother or not.
Spike doesn’t say anything at first. Just studies me with that sharp, calculating stare he’s perfected over the years. The one that sees right through bullshit.
“You good?” he finally asks.
“Not even close,” I bite out, my hands still shaking from holding back. “You saw it too, didn’t you? That look in his eyes? There’s nothing there anymore, Spike. No fire. No brotherhood. Just… nothingness.”
Spike exhales slowly, glancing toward the door Knuckles stormed out of. “Yeah. I saw it.” He rubs his jaw, voice low. “And I don’t like what it means.”
For a moment, neither of us speak. The only sound is the faint hum of the old fluorescent light above and the drip of oil somewhere deeper in the garage.
Then I look down. Eli’s still on the floor…pale, sweating, limp. Something in my chest twists. Without thinking, I kneel beside him and slide an arm under his shoulders, another beneath his knees.
He’s heavier than he looks, solid in a way that shouldn’t surprise me but does. It doesn’t bother me, though. If anything, it settles me. Grounds me. The weight reminds me he’s real. That I’m real.
“Got him?” Spike asks quietly.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out softer than normal. “He’s fine. Just needs a minute.”
“I see a couch in there.” Spike nods toward the small office off to the side.
I carry Eli inside, careful not to jostle him. The room smells like dust and oil. There’s a couch pushed against the wall, worn but solid. I ease him down onto it, tucking the small pillow under his head.
Spike lingers in the doorway, arms crossed. “You really attacked a brother over this man?”
I look back at him. “And, I’ll do it again if Knuckles says one more fucking negative thing about him.”
He studies me for a long beat, then nods once. “Then I’ll stand with you. But if Knuckles keeps spiraling, we might be looking at more than attitude problems.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, brushing a smear of grease from Eli’s temple with my thumb. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
Eli shifts slightly, a quiet sound slipping from his lips, and that’s all it takes to make the rest of the world fade.
I settle onto the edge of the couch beside him, elbows on my knees. “You’re all right, sweetheart,” I murmur, low and steady. “You just worked yourself to the floor, and that prick with the big mouth pushed you over the edge. Take your time getting back.”
“He okay?” Bones asks from the doorway.
“Yeah,” I nod. “Pretty sure he’s got some kind of medical condition. I’ve met the man twice, and both times he’s fainted.”
“You’ve met him twice, and this is your reaction?” Bones asks, one brow raised.
I look up at my stoic friend and grin. “What? You think it’s true love, brother?” I chuckle. “Jealous that I didn’t choose you over this pretty boy?”
“Man,” Eli groans from beside me.
“My bad, sweetheart,” I laugh, shifting closer. “Let me rephrase…Jealous I didn’t pick your broody ass over this pretty man?”
Bones snorts and kneels beside Eli. “You’re nuts,” he tells me, checking Eli’s pulse.
“Sunny’s made you soft,” I glare, pushing his hand away and taking over. Bones just smirks before standing.
I focus on Eli’s wrist, feeling the thrum under my fingers, and can’t help the grin that creeps in. “Why’s your pulse racing, sweetheart?” I tease. “I know I’m sexy as sin, but if you keep this up, we’re never gonna have a conversation that doesn’t start with you falling into my arms.”
Eli blinks at me. “Why are you bleeding?”
“Because I let that fucker get a swing in,” I admit. “Needed it to calm down.”
