“No.” Matthew agreed “but you…he’s your partner. You tend to get close to them real quick.”
I winced “he’s…he’ll be fine.”
The other stayed silent, eyes glued to the floor.
“You don’t believe that?” I asked sharply, feeling defensive all of the sudden.
Matthew ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots “yeah.” He swallowed thickly “no, I…he will be.”
“Don’t lie to me.” I snapped “for fucks sake, I’m not made of glass, can everyone stop treating me like I am!”
“Theo.”Matthew grit out hollowly.
Theo. Not Danes. Theo. That wasn’t…that wasn't what I was used to.
“That’s not…it’s sepsis.”
“Duh. My ears work.” I retorted sassily, inhaling from the joint again. It wasn’t having it’s usual calming effect right now. My chest was aching.
“Sepsis is serious. If not treated properly…”
“We have good staff.” I insisted.
“Hm. Good. That’s good.”
“Will you stop that?” I growled, growing more irritated by the second.
“Stop what?”
“Saying things like you don’t believe them.”
“Sorry.” Matthew put his head in his hands “it’s…I just…I’m not exactly an optimist.”
I didn’t answer. I squeezed my eyes shut, heart pounding. The whole situation was confusing me. Stryker might be dying and the only thing he had cared to tell me was to look for a load of kids that had gone missing when I didn’t even know where to start. There was no way I could do that without Stryker guiding me, and-
“Theo.” I heard the bed creak as Matthew’s weight lifted from it. I felt a rough thumb on my cheek moments later, the gesture entirely too tender. “He’s strong.”
“I know.”
“He has a better chance than most.”
“I know.”
He fell silence, stroking my cheek.
I kept my eyes closed, bringing the joint back to my lips.
“You have freckles.”
“What?” My eyes shot open. Matthew was scrutinising my face, expression open and caring “freckles. I’d never noticed, but-“
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, avoiding his piercing gaze “I know.”
“They’re nice.”
“They’re freckles.”
Matthew’s hand disappeared. He’d stuffed it in his pocket.
