THE MEDICAL WING OFthe Gemini Institute smelled faintly of antiseptic and ozone, a strange mixture that somehow made Hannah feel both comforted and uneasy.Maybe it was because the scent clung to Gray, too.The ozone always did, curling around him like a signature she’d learned to recognize long before she understood what it meant.
Yaz guided them to a private treatment room, its glass door frosting over the moment it slid shut behind them.Isolation protocol.Security protocol.But all Hannah cared about was Gray sinking onto the edge of the exam bed with a slow, deliberate exhale that spoke more to exhaustion than pain.
She moved immediately to stand between his knees, her hands cupping his face before he could look down and hide the strain tightening the edges of his eyes.
“Hey,” she said.“Don’t disappear on me.”
Their bond pulsed with the same exhaustion she saw on his face.Threaded through it was a warmth like sunlight whenever she looked at him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, leaning into her touch.“Just coming down from the energy I spent.”
She stroked her thumbs along the rasp of stubble on his jaw.“Let me help.”
Gray’s hands slid to her waist, fingers curling there.“You are helping.”
But she wanted to do more.
His skin was warm under her palms, but that wasn’t what worried her.It was the subtle tremor beneath the surface, the faint crackle of unstable electricity beneath his skin that told her his power was still settling, still recalibrating after the violence of what they’d done in the Senate chamber.
She brushed a strand of hair away from his temple, pressing her forehead gently to his.Their connection brightened in response, a soft blue shimmer.
“Breathe with me,” she said.
Gray’s grip tightened on her waist.“Hannah.”
“Just do it.”
She guided his breath, syncing hers with his until the knot of tension in him loosened by degrees.Every inhale softened.Every exhale steadied.And with each breath, their bond smoothed out the jagged edges of his power with a gentle, insistent rhythm.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raw.“You center me.”
“You do the same for me,” she said.
He let out a soft laugh, almost disbelieving.“You saved me in there.”
“We saved each other,” she corrected.“And we’ll keep doing that.You’re not carrying this alone.”
He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead fully against hers.For a moment she let herself feel the thrum of his heartbeat.The bond glowed stronger and steadier between them, weaving their energies together so seamlessly it was hard to tell where she ended and he began.
A soft knock came at the door before it slid open and one of the Initiative’s variant specialists, a calm, silver-haired man entered.
“Mr.Spark,” he said gently, “I need to run a quick scan to assess the aftershock effects.”
Gray opened his eyes but didn’t pull away from her touch.“Do what you need to.”
Hannah stepped aside just enough to let the physician work, but she remained close, her fingers brushing Gray’s arm, offering connection even in the inches between them.The specialist ran a handheld scanner along Gray’s forearms, the device humming faintly.
“Your neurological and bioelectrical patterns are stabilizing,” the doctor said.“Slower than ideal, but nothing dangerous.You pushed far beyond safe parameters, but the bond seems to have buffered you.”
Gray glanced at her.Hannah hadn’t taken her eyes off him.
“So she kept him from frying himself,” Yaz said dryly from the doorway, arms crossed.“Good.Because I do not want to be the one to explain to Rick why the city’s strongest Pollux variant cooked his circuits in a Senate building.”
The doctor chuckled softly.“Not cooked.But without her...yes, he would’ve been in significantly worse condition.”
Gray absorbed that quietly.
Hannah didn’t miss the subtle shift in him.His gratitude wrapped around her like warm hands closing over her soul.
