Chapter Twenty One
Eventually, Axel falls asleep in my arms. None of us were prepared for the sudden surge of panic he would have in response to seeing me. As if he was in a dreamy state, and I was the bucket of cold water dousing it. The drug that the doctor rushed in to give him has done its job, soothing Axel back into the slumber I’d only just got him back from. I understand the logic. Resting is needed to heal, but the episode has solidified what the doctor told us this morning. There is no quick fix here. Axel needs time, and we need to give it to him.
Hugging his head to my chest, I shift down into the pillows as a lone tear escapes my eye. Garrett shifts in my peripheral, returning from the bathroom.
“Peach,” he frowns, but I wave him off.
“It’s fine. I’m fine, honestly. You should get some sleep, Gare. You look like shit.”
Garrett pauses in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame as he studies me. His face is etched with exhaustion. Dark circles under his eyes, his jaw tight, and his hair sticking up in every direction from where he’s run his hands through it too many times. He doesn’t move, though.
“Actually, if you’re sure you’re okay here,” he breaks off, his eyes sliding back to the hallway. Whatever it is, Gare doesn’t want to ask for it, nor should he have to.
“Garrett, go. I’ve got this.” Garrett hesitates for a moment longer. His lips press together like he wants to argue, but he finally nods, the tension in his shoulders sagging just a fraction.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promises, before stepping out into the hallway. As the door clicks softly behind him, the room feels impossibly still. The hum of the monitors fills the quiet, steady, and constant, a reminder of the fragile line Axel is walking. I glance down at him, his face peaceful in sleep, though the bruises marring his skin tell a much different story.
I adjust my hold on him, brushing my fingers gently over his head. His skin is damp with sweat, and I use the edge of the blanket to pat him dry, careful not to disturb him. Lower down the bed, his wrist glints where he’s wearing my compass bracelet. A shuddering sigh rocks through my chest.
“You scared the hell out of me for a hot minute there, Ax,” I whisper. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I need to say the words anyway. I need to fill the silence. “You don’t get to leave us, okay? You don’t get to leave me.”
Tears threaten to spill again, but I blink them back, focusing on the rhythm of his breathing instead. In and out. Slow and steady. It’s enough to anchor me for the moment. The weight of the day starts pressing down harder, between the confessions Dax managed to draw out of me and how close I came to telling Axel how much I’ve missed him. I let my head fall back against the pillows.
The soft glow of the stars on Axel’s ceiling catches my attention as I stroke my hands over his head, brushing my thumb along his cheek. The room feels heavy with memories of a once quiet sanctuary that was torn to shreds.
I can’t tell how long I’ve laid there before the door clicks and cracks open. My arms tighten around Axel as if holding him close will somehow protect him from whatever is coming. A body steps inside, not seeking permission and not offering an explanation. The next minute, the cover is lifted, and a warm body curls in behind me.
“You’re missing dinner,” Wyatt mutters beside my ear. On cue, my stomach echoes with a hollow growl, and I feel the smugness radiate from him.
“I’m not hungry.” Wyatt shifts closer, his arm sliding around my waist. The firmness of his chest presses into my back .
“You’re a terrible liar, Angel, but I’ll let it slide this time.” he murmurs, his lips touching the patch of skin behind my ear. My focus remains on Axel, on the rise and fall of his chest and the faint crease still etched between his brows even in sleep. Wyatt speaks after a moment, his voice quieter, almost tentative. “You’ve been in here for hours. The students have packed up and piled into a row of minibuses, so it’s much quieter now. We could sneak down and raid the fridge without being seen.”
“It’s unnerving when you’re nice to me,” I roll my eyes, and we both laugh softly.
“Well, you appear to have broken my mean streak. Now I don’t know what to do with myself.” This is true. Now that he’s not scheming in private or deflecting any affection brought his way, Wyatt is left wide open. It’s almost as if we get to rewrite his persona and fix all of the damage that he’s been dealt. Or at least, he’s finally open to letting us try.
Wyatt reaches out to stroke Axel’s shoulder. His sigh is soft, his breath brushing against my neck. “You can’t run on empty, and you won’t do him any good if you burn out. Come have some food.” I know he’s right, but I still shake my head. After the way Axel reacted to me earlier, I need to know he’s okay. That we’re okay.
“I’ll tap out when Garrett gets back.”
Wyatt doesn’t push any further. His fingers ghost my hair, tucking the loose strands behind my ear. “Alright. But you’re staying with me tonight. No arguments.” I smile despite myself. Wyatt’s presence lulls me, the room falling into a fragile calm at long last. It’s all too easy to slip into his comfort, remembering the way he held me in the tent. Even when I was pushing against him, fighting him every step of the way, he kept me safe. Actions speak louder than words, and Wyatt’s actions scream everything he would never dare to voice. What he’s afraid of saying.
The next time I open my eyes, the dim light filtering through the curtains reveals a shift in the room. Wyatt is gone, but we’re not alone. Garrett rests on Axel’s other side, his head resting lightly on Axel’s chest, his posture protective yet tired. His dark eyes flicker to mine, and in the silence, the weight of guilt settles over his features like a shroud .
That’s when I notice it. The deepening bruise mottling his cheekbone and the fresh, angry cut splitting his lower lip.
“Garrett,” I whisper, careful not to disturb Axel, my voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “What the fuck did you do?”
He doesn’t flinch at the accusation, his lips pressing together. “Nothing that wasn’t deserved.” My stomach tightens. His tone is hollow, devoid of the bubbling emotion I’m so used to. Before my very eyes, it’s as if Garrett is drifting away, slipping into the abyss. I push myself up, careful of Axel’s limp form, and lean closer to Garrett.
“This isn’t you,” I insist softly but firmly. Garrett’s jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to Axel’s still face.
“Maybe it’s who I should be,” he mutters back. “Maybe if it was, Axel would never have gotten hurt in the first place back in Waversea.” I can see the rabbit hole Garrett is diving down. His defense mechanism is humor, but it is also what makes him appear less like the tough guy. Less like the guy who could protect Axel from bigots. Perhaps he’s going as far as thinking he shouldn’t have fallen for Axel in the first place.
“No, Garrett. The Souls’ dynamic relies on you being your cheeky self. You’re our glue. I’m not saying you can’t be in low spirits, but don’t lose who you truly are. Who I fell in love with.”
His head snaps up, dark eyes locking on mine with an intensity that sends a jolt straight to my chest. I see it there. The pain he’s trying to bury, the doubt eating him alive. Slowly, I reach out, my hand brushing over the bruised skin of his cheek. My thumb moves in soft, rhythmic strokes, and he freezes under the touch, his breath hitching.
“Your jokes are trash, and let’s be honest, your tattoos are shit, but I wouldn’t change any part of you. You’re hilarious and quirky and gorgeous and incredible.”
Shifting away from my touch, Garrett shakes his head, refusing to listen to me. “Axel is the incredible one.” I lean over and grab his cheek harder, causing him to hiss through his teeth. At this point, I think he needs to feel it. To realise he can’t brush me off anymore.
“You’re worthy of love, Gare. I freaking love you.” His eyes widen, vulnerability flashing across his face like a lightning strike before it’s buried under layers of fear and disbelief. But I hold on, refusing to let him retreat. “You’re enough, Garrett,” I whisper, my voice trembling now. “You’ve always been enough to me and to Axel. ”
Garrett’s shoulders sag, a choked sound escaping his throat as he finally lets himself crumble. I lean forward, resting my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the heavy silence. “We’ll get through this,” I promise. “Together.”
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, but then his hands come up to grip my wrists, grounding himself in the contact. It’s not a full surrender, but it’s a start. Between us, Axel hums slightly, his eyelids fluttering but not fully opening.
“Together,” Axel whispers on a breathy exhale. I hold Garrett’s stare, a matching smile creeping across our faces. We lean in together, pressing a kiss to each of Axel’s temples.
“Welcome back,” I smile. Waiting for Axel to rouse in his own time, I reach over to the table for his water. He shuffles against me to lift his head and sip through the straw. Just that small movement is enough for him to sink back down, exhausted once more. I chew on the inside of my cheek, worrying in silence again about the unknown length of his recovery. We could be here for months at this rate.
Searching for a distraction, I let my gaze wander to the posters lining the walls. Planets, galaxies, and spacecraft frozen in mid-flight. “I didn’t know you were so into space, Axe.”
His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but there’s a flicker of warmth in it. “My dad was low-key obsessed. He found the concept of space fascinating. We used to take trips together to watch the rockets launch at NASA. It’s some of my favorite memories.”
On his other side, Garrett shifts down beneath the covers to settle on Axel’s chest again. “You’ve never told me that.” There’s genuine curiosity in his tone, and I reckon there are a lot of things Axel hasn’t opened up about, too focused on the trauma he suffered to remember anything else.
“Did your… um, did Sharon go too?” I ask hesitantly. Axel shakes his head, his expression tightening ever so slightly.
“If it’s not fashion or money, she’s not interested.” My nostrils flare in irritation, but this isn’t news to me. I can see it in the way she carries herself and the way she speaks of Axel like an inconvenience. Axel finally blinks his hazel eyes wide open, awake at long last.
“Sharon never wanted kids, but my dad was twenty years her senior, and he told me he always wanted just one, perfect child.” There’s a bittersweet tilt to his lips that shows he was exactly that to his father. “When she refused to ruin her body for his selfish desires, they agreed to use a surrogate. Maybe that’s why the maternal instinct never kicked in. All she cared about was the money.”
I swallow hard, unsure how to respond. The image of his mother, distant and indifferent, doesn’t fit with the man lying in front of me. The man who exudes quiet strength and has somehow kept his kindness intact despite it all.
“What did your father even see in her?” I ask, my voice tinged with frustration. “Surely he could have found someone else.” Axel lets out a soft, humorless laugh.
“He wasn’t a saint. I reckon he used her too. In our world, it’s all about public image.” I nod, knowing that all too well. It’s exactly why Cathy went to such lengths to hide her affair with Fredrick. Why she used Wyatt as the scapegoat for her reputation. The weight of these revelations sits heavily between us, the unspoken complexities of Axel’s upbringing clear in the dark lines of his face.
Reaching out, he takes my hand in his. Axel’s eyes meet mine for a brief moment, steady and unwavering. Even now, horizontal and bandaged, he doesn’t want to show weakness.
“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy staying with me while Meg is out there somewhere. But it means the world that you did. I promise I will get better as quickly as I can. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us back out there, searching for her.”
“Meg’s a tough bitch,” I reply, echoing back what Wyatt told me. Who’d have thought Wyatt would become my voice of reason? “She will be giving one hell of a fight, and when we finally do find her, she’ll beat my ass for putting myself in danger.” I snort out a laugh. “Just focus on getting better. Now that you’re awake, we can start looking for leads. That’s what matters.”