If he wouldn’t, Oliver would.
“Let me see your stomach.” When Felipe didn’t remove his hand and a clot of guilt slid across the tether, Oliver eyed the wad of gauze suspiciously. “Felipe, what don’t you want me to see?”
Felipe closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I thought I could get them back in on my own, but I can’t.”
“Get what back in?” he asked, though he already knew. Pulling Felipe’s hand away, Oliver lifted the gauze and bloodied nightshirt to reveal a glistening, red loop of small intestine protruding from the wound. He had seen intestines hundreds, if not thousands, of times, but seeing the insides of the person he loved on the outside wasdifferent. Steadying himself against the table, Oliver said, his voice sharpening with every word, “You’ve been eviscerated. Why didn’t you tell me you were eviscerated? Why did you tell me to work on your arm first if you knew you had been eviscerated?”
***
Felipe stared up at Oliver. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing he could say would stand up against the molten fury roiling off his lover. While Oliver wasn’t the type to be angry for long, his rage burned hot and fast before dissolving into tears, and Felipe knew the more quiet and controlled Oliver was, the more furious he was. Right now, he looked like he was using every ounce of self-control to keep from verbally flaying him or grinding his molars to dust. Oliver shook his head and gestured to the forlorn loop of intestines.
“You could have perforated your bowels! Or strangled them! You still might have.” Oliver pressed the back of his hand to Felipe’s forehead. “Are you having cramps or abdominal pain? Do you feel like you might vomit?”
Felipe quickly shook his head, but Oliver turned his face toward him and stared directly into his eyes. “Felipe, I mean it. You had better tell me right now if you have any sort of pain or strange symptoms.”
“I’m not lying! My intestines are throbbing a little, and the wound hurts, but that’s it.”
“You had better be telling me the truth.” For a long moment, Oliver merely stared into his eyes before turning back to the wound. “I hate that I feel like I can’t trust you. You didn’t tell me about the sleepwalking. You didn’t tell me your bowels were coming out. And you didn’t tell me you broke your clavicle. Yes, I noticed. The giant bruise was hard to miss. If you thought you were sparing me, Felipe, you were sorely mistaken. Now, I can’t help but worry about how many other important things you have conveniently left out.”
“I wasn’t trying to lie to you.”
When Felipe gave him a pleading look, Oliver rolled his eyes and bent closer to inspect the wound. He had never intended to lie to Oliver. He didn’t want to worry him over nothing, but it wasn’t about him, not really. Admitting he had been sleepwalking or that his wounds hadn’t healed meant his body was doing things he could no longer control. His whole life he had kept a tight leash on his needs. Felipe Galvan didn’t need to sleep or take a break or stop the bleeding, and while he hadchosento stop taking long-distance cases that would put Oliver in danger, this was different. In this, he had no choice. His body didn’t work the way it was supposed to. Rolling his injured shoulder, Felipe rode out the flare of pain until it faded into focus. What good was he to Oliver or Gwen or anyone if he shattered now? Letting his head fall back against the table, Felipe watched Oliver dab antiseptic across his skin and exposed intestines. Despite the anger battering the tether, his touch was gentle and sure. A familiar voice decades old told him to get up and keep going, even if he cut himself on the pieces. Oliver would never let him do that.
Watching Oliver’s lips thin in time with a flare of anger across the tether, Felipe said, “Oliver, please believe me. I wasn’t trying to lie to you. I thought the sleepwalking was a one-time thing that would stop on its own.”
“And your intestines?”
“I admit that wasn’t my best idea. I thought I could get them back in, and by the time you saw the wound, it would have been barely more than a scrape. That’s what would have happened in the past.”
“But we aren’t in the past, Felipe, and right now, you’re seriously hurt. Hold still. I need to make sure you didn’t perforate your bowels.”
Felipe bit his lip and forced his body to unclench as Oliver’s fingers slipped inside him. He stared at the tobacco-stained ceiling, but it did little to distract from the feeling of fingers wiggling around his intestines. “I know you said the rain check was for when Gwen and Mr. Allen next went out, but this is not where I thought you would put your fingers.”
Oliver gave him a look that could kill grass. “Now is not the time.”
Christ almighty, Oliver really was pissed at him. As Oliver pulled his hand out, Felipe let out a groan of relief. Oliver’s presence hovered at the end of the tether as if checking his pulse or mood before he gingerly prodded at the loop of intestine.
“The last time something like this happened the wound started to heal too quickly, and I had to reopen it to get my intestines back in. If you have to do it, just be quick about it. I’ll be fine.”
Oliver stared at him for a long moment. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t saylast timebecause that means you’ve been partially eviscerated before, and I can’t deal with that right now. But no, I don’t think I need to widen the wound. Relax your hips and stomach as much as you can for me.”
Felipe shut his eyes and drew in long, slow breaths. One by one he forced his muscles to loosen. His partner’s hands rested on his hips, gently rubbing them until Felipe’s body let go.
“Good, just like that,” Oliver coaxed as he held the wound open with one hand and helped the intestine slide back into place with the other. How many times had Oliver said that exact thing at an equally vulnerable moment? Tears prickled the backs of Felipe’s eyes against his will as he followed a crack in the plaster. Thank god it was Oliver and not someone else doing this. If it was anyone but him, Felipe didn’t think he could take being laid bare like this. A body in need of tending was vulnerable; it was at the mercy of the hands that cared for it, and until now, they had only ever been his own. People who supposedly loved you could hurt you as easily as a stranger, but Oliver’s hands were gentle and sure as they lightly patted his innards to make sure they were properly in place. Even with the constant tide of anger, he never took it out on him.
Oliver stepped back and regarded the wound with a frown. “Felipe, I think I’m going to have to put a few stitches in your muscle wall. I’m afraid that if I don’t, your skin will heal first, and your intestines will herniate. Then, we’ll have to do this all over again. It isn’t going to be comfortable. I have to— I have to separate it from the skinfirst.”
A dark wash of guilt wound beneath Felipe’s heart. “Just do it. I can handle it.”
With a resigned nod, Oliver washed his hands, grabbed another needle from the pot, and sanitized it. Felipe braced himself as Oliver’s fingers slipped beneath his skin. His toes curled, but the agony quickly peaked and joined in with the chorus of screaming nerves. At least when everything hurt, it was easier to let it recede into the background. Turning his attention back to Oliver, Felipe found him studying his face against the tether.
“It shouldn’t be this way, you know,” Oliver said, his voice tight with suppressed anger again. When Felipe didn’t say anything, he shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to endure this. This shouldn’t be normal to you.”
“What else am I supposed to do, Oliver? I’m a self-healer.”
“Not throw yourself on the nearest sword! God, Felipe, last night I was so confused as to why you were upset with me when I mentioned going into the Dysterwood again. I thought you were just afraid, but now, I get it.” Oliver bit his lip as he picked up the needle and forceps again. “You thought I was going to hurl myself into dangeralonelike you do. Unlike you, I was going to talk to youbeforewe did anything. I was going to plan everything out with you and Gwen.”
“Oliver—”
