The rest of the drive home was made in silence. Their driver dropped them off out front and sped off before they even made it to the sidewalk. Jono crunched his way through snow, the stoop at least having been shoveled clear by someone. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and let them inside the building, the air marginally warmer on the landing, but not by much.
Jono led the way upstairs, letting them into the flat at the top. Patrick touched the wards on the doorframe as he passed, magic flickering at his fingertips.
“I’ll turn on the heat,” Jono said.
The flat was cold from their weeklong absence while across the veil, though the Christmas tree looked alive. He turned the heat as high as it would go, listening as the vents rattled from the blowing air. Their building wasn’t warmed by steam heat, though Jono thought they would’ve come home to a warmer flat if they had a radiator.
His mobile buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, Jono unlocked it and read Sage’s text:Victoria is on her way over.
Patrick was in the kitchen, having poured himself a glass of water and was chugging it like he was in a timed contest. Jono frowned at him. “Go slow. When was the last time you drank something?”
“Before we left for Central Park. I didn’t eat or drink anything they offered,” Patrick said.
Jono opened up Wade’s snack cupboard and pulled out a chocolate protein bar. He ripped it open and handed it to Patrick. “Eat.”
He watched Patrick with a critical eye as the mage ate that protein bar and another one before finishing up a third glass of water. He seemed to be favoring his left arm, and Jono didn’t like that.
“Come on, let’s get you sorted.”
Jono led Patrick to their bedroom, where he carefully divested the other man of his jacket and sweater. Jono hissed angrily as deep bruises in the shape of large fingers were revealed on Patrick’s left arm. What looked like bright red, first-degree burns twisted around Patrick’s wrists and forearms, edged with deep scratches from where he’d tried to claw them off.
“Should’ve ripped their throats out,” Jono said as he guided Patrick to the master bathroom.
“That’s not good diplomacy.”
“Fuck diplomacy.” Jono gently pushed Patrick down onto the edge of the bathtub before pulling the med-kit out from beneath the sink. “Victoria is on the way over.”
Patrick pressed a hand against the scars on his bare chest, absently scratching the skin there. “I need a shirt.”
Jono got him a shirt and some Tylenol. Patrick stayed where he was, looking exhausted and hurt in a way that went deeper than the physical. Jono knelt before him, resting both hands on Patrick’s thighs. He looked up into Patrick’s green eyes, wishing he could wipe away the pain in them.
Patrick pressed his hand against Jono’s cheek, thumb settling against the corner of Jono’s mouth. Jono turned his head enough so that he could kiss the pad of it gently.
“Tell me what happened in the Seelie Court,” Patrick said.
So Jono did, not leaving anything out, because they’d long since stopped keeping secrets from each other.
“Sage is pissed at me for not telling her about Fenrir,” Jono admitted when he finished.
“I know that feeling.”
Jono lifted a hand, stroking his fingers over Patrick’s cheek. “I’m sorry, love.”
Patrick looked away, jaw tightening. “You aren’t the one who lied to me.”
“I can still be sorry you’re hurting.”
Patrick sighed tiredly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Jono’s. “Yeah.”
Jono didn’t close his eyes, content to let Patrick lean on him for however long he needed.
* * *
“Thanks, Victoria,”Jono said as he escorted her to the front door of the flat.
Victoria Alvarez nodded, pulling on her gloves before wrapping a scarf around her neck. “He can take the bandages off in the morning. The burns should be healed by then.”
Victoria was an RN witch at Mount Sinai and Marek’s personal on-call nurse for the migraines his visions gave him. She was also, apparently, now the on-call nurse for Jono’s god pack, a fact she’d disclosed upon her arrival half an hour prior.
