“Except the Fae’s chemistry that rejects metal,” she retorts, wiping the smile from my face. “Yeah, when I said I heard everything, it wasn’t the shelves falling over.”
“That was a low blow.”
“I’m short. What did you expect?”
I can’t help but laugh at that one. Her giggles fill the room. My eyes water with the emotional whiplash. I lower my head to wipe my face on my shirt.
“You need a hug,” she says, rushing forward. She wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my chest. Heat radiates from her embrace as if her skinny arms were four times the girth. The power of her open heart and healing embrace hits me like a ton of bricks. I feel ten feet tall, able to conquer the world with nothing but my hands.
Dammit, my hands.
“I can’t hug you back,” I say with more self-pity in my voice than I would like.
“You don’t need to,” she says, snuggling deeper into my scrubs. “I’m giving this hug to you. When was the last time someone gave you affection without asking for a miracle in return, Dr. Stein? You don’t have to answer me. I’m nobody but a little lady who heard a man who expects too much of himself. I don’t think I’m the only one with the problem of wanting to be liked.”
“You were wrong earlier,” I say, bewilderment clouding my brain. “I do like you, Alette.”
“With those words, I guess you can return my hug after all,” she says, turning her face upward to beam at me. Her sunny smile is too much for me. I don’t deserve such warmth, but she gives it freely.
“I can also save your life,” I whisper to her, crossing my wrists behind her head to create the illusion of an embrace. Pathetic. “Let me do what I do best.”
“I want to try my way first. Will you help me?”
“Here? In Haunted Health?”
“Yeah, you can monitor me while I try human interventions. I’ve found things on the human’s internet—”
“I’m familiar with the research into monoclonal antibodies—”
“Medication is a step between where I am and surgery, but I was thinking more holistic stuff—probiotics, specialized chiropractic care for my intestines, stylized diets, acupuncture—”
“So you’d let someone fill you with pins and needles, but you won’t allow my surgical instruments to cure you. I’m not promising pain management. I’m giving you a cure,” I say with more fire than I intend. The fact that she would take chanceswith the lovely soul who hugged a stranger burns my cookies. While she’s feeling better, her body will destroy itself from the inside out.
I can’t let that happen. The world needs her compassionate light…to balance out the bastards like me.
“Think about it,” she says, sliding from my embrace. The cold hits me acutely with the pain of loss. She steps one little foot into the vent. “You know where to find me.”
“Let me feed you,” I shout as she disappears. “I’ll adhere to any fancy diet you suggest, but I want to feed you.”
“When?”
“Every day,” I say with a desperation beating in my chest that squeezes my heart like a vice. “Clothes, food, and toiletries will be in your assigned room without someone waiting to pounce on you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, just promise me you will try too. Eating, recording the time and duration of your flares, and practicing proper hygiene to avoid infection.”
“Hey! Are you calling me smelly? That’s not nice!”
“I’m not a nice man.”
“Yes, you are Dr. Stein, but your secret’s safe with me. I’ll take your deal. Leave paper for me to record the information you need to monitor me from afar, and I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she says, tapping the edge of the vent. “You’re the first person to listen to me, even though we’re talking about my body. From inside this vent, I feel seen.”
She ducks into the wall before I can respond. Even when I pop my head into the musty space, I can’t see her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the rubber dots on the bottom of her hospital-issued socks, I’d say she vanished into thin air. Her scent clings to my shirt, so I know I didn’t imagine her. She may be as human as I am, but there’s something magical about her. Something pure and light that this world needs. I pledge to keep that light shining…by any means necessary.
