It made him happier than it should have. This contact and the fact that Sawyer seemed to need him.
Kellan checked his heart rate, his eyes, his temperature.
“I’ll be okay,” Sawyer mumbled. “I just... I just...” He shook his head and didn’t attempt to finish.
Kellan glanced at Ciaran. “He attacked Fray?”
Sawyer’s head shot up. “I didn’t mean to. I just...”
“Fray was gonna leap on me,” Ciaran said. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m sorry,” Sawyer mumbled, looking over at where Fray stood in the doorway. “I’m really sorry.”
“I know,” Fray said. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
“It’s the bond,” Ciaran said to Kellan. It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.
He knew.
Kellan gave a nod. “I think so, yes. We have no way to know for sure because he’s not like us. But...”
“But what?”
“But it appears to be getting worse.” Kellan gave half a shrug. “The fact he went into the water twice in one day doesn’t help. Almost drowning and hypothermia certainly don’t help, but then sharing a bed with him to get him warm would have exacerbated the situation. When did he eat last?”
They all looked at Sawyer for his answer, but he could only look at Ciaran. “I... I can’t remember. I don’t know what time it is. How long did I sleep for? What day it is?” He scrubbed his hand over his face, finally meeting Kellan’s concerned gaze. “Doc, I just...”
Ciaran held Sawyer’s hand in both of his. “You just what? You’ve said that twice now. Whatever it is, whatever you want to ask Kellan or me, you can just say it.”
“You looked so sad,” Sawyer whispered, his gaze locking with Ciaran’s. “It was a physical pain.” He put their joined hands to his chest. “Actual pain. I feel okay now. But god, seeing you hurting.... I felt it. I think I felt what he felt.” He shrugged then, squinting his eyes shut and shaking his head. “Maybe I’m hungry, I dunno. I feel like... something’s not right. Something’s missing. I need—” He winced again.
“You need what?” Ciaran asked quietly.
Sawyer’s gaze darted to Kellan, then to Fray, then to Ciaran. His cheeks flushed with shame.
“Me?” Ciaran prompted. “You need me?”
He snorted, clearly embarrassed, but gave a nod, looking down at the blankets he was wrapped in. “I can’t explain it.”
Ciaran was torn. He hated to see Sawyer so confused, so conflicted, but by the gods, how it soothed something inside him to have Sawyer admit that he needed him. He crawled up onto the bed, fixed one leg behind Sawyer, and wrapped his arms around him to bring his back against Ciaran’s chest.
He went willingly. Eagerly, even. He shuffled in closer, up higher, so his forehead was pressed against Ciaran’s neck. Ciaran tightened his arms around him, around the blankets, purring with satisfaction. “Feel better?” he murmured, his lips brushing against Sawyer’s hair.
Sawyer nodded. “Yeah. I do. Which is weird and kinda fucked up, but at least I can think now.”
Kellan gave Ciaran a sad smile before his frown deepened. “It’s getting worse.”
Or better, Ciaran thought.
“I think a decision needs to be made,” Kellan advised, then added, “Sooner rather than later.”
Ciaran felt Sawyer freeze. “A decision about what?” Sawyer asked.
Kellan glanced at Ciaran briefly before his gaze settled on Sawyer. “The bonding ritual.”
“So it’s a ritual now?” Sawyer asked. “I thought it was just fucking.”
Fray snorted, earning a well-aimed glare from Ciaran.
