“I know you don’t. So I’ll make you a deal.”
Suspicious, he looked at her and saw her smile slightly. “I’m listening?” But only because he knew she was right about him. If he didn’t take care of himself now, he would be of no use to Makai when he woke up.
“I know you don’t like it either, but I’ll give you a shitload of melatonin to knock you out for the night.” Then, seeing his expression, she said, “I’ll be right here. If you get nightmares, I’ll wake you up right away.”
That was the thing with melatonin; it gave him nightmares. They could be the regular flashback nightmares or completely new ones that made no sense and were even more horrifying. But it also did knock him the fuck out and made his body rest, even if his mind might suffer a bit more. Then again, the nightmares didn’t come every time, and they didn’t last all night. If Evy woke him up, he could then go back to sleep.
“They’ll bring you a cot here,” she said, knowing that would sway him the most. It was a private room, a tiny one at that, but he could fit in the corner by the window.
“Okay. But not yet.”
“No, not yet. You still have eating to do.” She smirked evilly, knowing he’d laugh. He did.
THERE WEREN’Tany nightmares, and Emil sent a thanks to the universe. His mom appeared in the morning and brought him a coffee from a good coffee shop and some breakfast.
“You need a shower and a shave. I brought you two a couple of things,” she handed him a duffel that had a change of clothes for both him and Makai for whenever he’d be released. “Dad told me about the call to his mother.”
The expression on Mom’s face was terrifying in its fierce protectiveness. She wasn’t about to say anything negative out loud, but she didn’t have to: her eyes were full of obvious contempt at the thought of Susan Stone.
“Yeah. How are the cats?” Emil asked, knowing the change of topic couldn’t hurt.
“Oh, they’rewonderful. I fed them yesterday and then again this morning. Cleaned the litterboxes, and I tell you that’s one thing that I don’t feel envious about!” She laughed, and Emil smiled behind the rim of his to-go cup.
She went into a long explanation about what the kittens were doing and how she didn’t mind the allergy medicine so much anymore, and how sheso wishedthat she could have a cat.
“No, Mom. No cats for you,” Emil said firmly. “You’re allergic enough that you would have to be on the meds all the time, and even then you probably couldn’t breathe right.”
“Fine, but when you move in with Makai, I hope you know I’ll be visiting a lot more often!”
Emil almost choked on his coffee. “I—What?”
“I assume that when Makai gets out of the hospital, he’ll need around-the-clock help. He could probably tough it out, but you’d never let him do that. So why don’t you move to his place if he wants that too?” She seemed to think this was a reasonable discussion to have, somehow.
“Who’s movin’ ’n where?”
“Makai!” Emil nearly dumped his coffee onto his lap when he rushed to the bedside. “You’re awake!”
“Mm-hmm,” Makai hummed. Then he squinted at Emil. “You need a shave. You hate havin’ stubble.”
Emil’s breath hitched, and he began to cry. Mom took the coffee, and Emil clutched Makai’s hand with his own, then leaned closer to press his face against Makai’s neck.
“You fucking idiot, you almost died!” He knew his tone was all wrong because of the tears and the relief, but it needed to be said.
“I know. I’m sorry, Emil. I love you.” Makai locked his tired, slightly unfocused gaze with Emil’s, and gave him a wobbly smile.
“I love you too,” Emil replied, feeling the truth in the words in his bones. He leaned in to kiss Makai’s lips gently. “Now, do you want pain meds or a stock of what’s going on with the injuries first?”
“Pain meds. Rest can wait,” Makai rasped, and then coughed and grimaced in a way that made Emil’s lungs hurt just to see.
“Okay, let’s press the button, then.”
Monica bustled in, did her thing, and gave Makai another button he could press if the pain became too much. There were instructions and warnings and such, but Emil let Mom take notes while he went to shower and shave in the tiny attached bathroom.
Makai was right: he hated to have stubble.
MAKAI GOTbetter slowly but steadily. Once he could have actual conversations, they talked about how he’d cope posthospital. Emil told him what his mother had suggested, and they agreed it was the best idea. It wasn’t like they wanted to be apart anyway, and Makai would need the help.
After the first week, they let him go home. It was good, because Emil knew he wasn’t doing as well as Makai.
