Sophie laughed, but Rupert couldn’t find any humour in the situation. The flat looked different every time he came home, and after months and months of upheaval and heartache, Jodi’s renewed housekeeping obsession was taking some getting used to.
“Anyway,” Rupert said. “I’ll let you get on. Sorry for bending your ear. I didn’t know who else to call. I miss you.”
Sophie’s answering sigh was hard to take. “I know, hun. I miss you too. It feels weird sleeping in my own bed so often, but it’s better for everyone. Jodi needs to think about you now, not that he needs much encouraging.”
She probably meant to cheer Rupert up. Everyone else seemed to think the progress Jodi had made over the past month was nothing short of miraculous—and something to celebrate, but Rupert hadn’t seen much to rejoice about. So what if Jodi now knew Rupert was—had been, whatever—his lover before the accident? Indie’s sleeping arrangements aside, not much had really changed. Jodi was asleep every time Rupert came home, or exercising, or cleaning. What the hell was Rupert supposed to do? Wrestle the hoover from him and demand to know exactly where this vague imitation of their lost relationship was going?
Yeah, because things weren’t fucked up enough already.
He wished Sophie a good night and let her get back to her own life with a heavy heart. He’d meant it when he said he missed her. Jodi could fend for himself when Rupert was at work, and with Indie slotting neatly back into life at the flat like she’d never been gone, there was no need for Sophie to stay over as much. In fact, it had been a week or so since Rupert had last seen her at all, and her absence was like another punch to the gut. Missing someone, even when they were right there, seemed to be what his life had become.
He caught the Tube heading north and found a seat, slouching with his hood up and his earphones jammed in. London wasn’t a city where strangers interacted much, but he kept his gaze down anyway. He wasn’t in the mood for half smiles and pointless small talk.
Forty minutes later, he walked into the flat to find Jodi working through the strengthening exercises for his injured arm.Great.Rupert ducked into the kitchen without a word and opened the fridge. A few months ago, watching Jodi struggle to so much as touch his toes had been enough to move Rupert to tears, but things had changed in recent weeks. Now, Rupert could hardly look at Jodi’s flushed cheeks and sweat-sheened skin without his eyes watering for an entirely different reason—one that made Rupert hang his head in shame. What kind of bloke perved over someone while they recovered from a feckin’ brain injury?
A bloke like Rupert, apparently.
“Rupe?”
Jesus Christ, I wish he’d stop calling me that.Rupert pulled his head from the fridge. “Yeah?”
Jodi grinned. “You okay? You scuttled in here with a face like a dropkicked pie.”
And there was another thing Rupert couldn’t get used to: the reemergence of Jodi’sridiculoussense of humour. Rupert had spent four years laughing until his stomach ached, and so many months yearning for Jodi to raise a smile, but now, faced with Jodi’s relaxed grin, Rupert felt like puking.I should probably tell him that I’m a complete fucking pervert.“Did you take your tablets?”
“Yeah.” Jodi’s smile faded. “I ate lunch, went to the ortho quack, and did my exercises, then I managed to buy a loaf of bread from the Tube station without trying to pay with bananas.”
“The Tube station? What were you doing there?”
Jodi looked at Rupert like he was an idiot. “Coming home from the hospital. My TARDIS is broken.”
“You took the underground?” Rupert couldn’t hide his surprise. He hadn’t taken Jodi on the Tube since his meltdown a few months ago, and Sophie hadn’t for even longer. Jodi didn’t like the Tube, not since the accident. “Was it okay?”
“It was fine. I’ve been doing it for a while now. Face the fear, and all that.”
Rupert ignored the unease that came with knowing Jodi had been on the Tube by himself. “What was it you were afraid of?”
“The dark.” Jodi shrugged like it was nothing. “I didn’t realise that’s what it was at first, but it felt the same as when you used to turn the light off and close the door when you put me to bed. Like I was trapped in a hole, like I was—”
“Locked in,” Rupert finished. “That was one of my biggest fears, you know, when you were in that bloody coma. That your senses were still working, you just couldn’t tell us. It was worse than imagining you dying ...”
He didn’t go on. Didn’t have to. Jodi stepped closer to Rupert and closed his hand around Rupert’s arm, his gaze suddenly darker, his grip tight and brutal. “Iwasn’tlocked in. I don’t remember anything about it. First thing I knew, I was waking up to your face.”
Rupert laughed bitterly. “And it was the last thing you wanted to see, right?”
“No,” Jodi snapped. “I just didn’t know why I was seeing it, or where I was, or why every part of me hurt so much I wished I was fucking dead.”
Jodi stormed out of the room. A minute later, the bedroom door slammed shut. Rupert sucked in a shaky breath, rocked, as usual, by the sheer speed he and Jodi could tumble into a row neither of them understood. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying to pull himself back to the few moments when he’d truly felt encouraged by Jodi’s progress.
His mind took him to the morning after Indie’s impromptu arrival. After a conversation Rupert was still trying to wrap his mind around, Jodi had fallen asleep beside him, and stayed asleep for most of the day, save a few nonsensical mumbles. For the few hours Rupert had been able to watch over him, he hadn’t dared close his eyes, terrified he’d wake up—on the couch—to find Indie’s bed empty and Jodi’s gaze as blankly apathetic as it had ever been. Nothing had prepared him for the week that followed, those few blissful days when he’d almost been able to convince himself everything was going to be okay. Jodi seemed fascinated by Indie, and for a while, they’d shut the rest of the world out.
But it hadn’t lasted. Indie had gone back to Jen’s, and the very next day, Jodi had come home from a neurologist’s appointment in the blackest mood Rupert had ever seen. He hadn’t spoken for two days, and now, two weeks later, Rupert still didn’t know why. And Jodi’s sudden return to good humour on the third day had made even less sense.How the hell am I supposed to keep up?
Rupert put the kettle on, then flicked it off. Opened the fridge, shut it again. Then, with a world-weary sigh, left the kitchen to face the music.
He found Jodi sitting on the bedroom floor, squinting at something on his laptop screen.
“Sorry for being a dick,” Rupert said. “I’m knackered, not that I’m making excuses.”
