six
Callum paces the entrance of their apartment, biting away at his thumb nail, eyebrows furrowed deeply in concern. The doctor was coming today.
Aldric stands in the kitchen, drying of the last of the dishes.
While his mate had been pacing the floor for a good hour or so, he had instead turned to cleaning the house and washing every dish by hand.
It had helped, somewhat, but he was more concerned over his love than the impending doctor visit.
His phone buzzes on the bench beside him, Henry's name flashing on the screen. Al sighs, flicking the tea-towel over his shoulder before answering.
"Alpha."
"Morning, Al. How's the mate?"
Aldric sighs yet again, eyes tracking his mate who still paces, messy hair tossed up in a crude bun.
"He's... worried. Should he be worried?"
Alpha Henry hums on the other side of the phone. "Honestly, I'm not so sure myself. We were told that he wasn't a fan of, ah, women, and when he was first taken to the hospital, he had some sort of panic attack. Not sure if those are related to each other or not."
Aldric frowns. Their pack doctor was a woman. A wonderful doctor, cherished by all. Children would often come to her with the tiniest of scratches just to be doted on by the busy wolf, but Milton didn't know that.
"She's aware of this?"
Henry hums a yes in return, accompanied by the creaking of his desk chair.
He had wanted to come with the doctor, to be there for the newest member of his pack, but after his little run in with Callum.
.. the alpha knew he would not be so readily welcomed into the couple's home.
Especially not when they had a pup to take care of, human as he may be.
The apartment buzzer goes off, startling Callum in his pacing as he jumps, standing stock still in front of the door.
"Marcy's here. Gotta go." Al hangs up, stepping around from the kitchen bench and walking to his love, gently caressing his shoulder before moving to open the door.
Dr Marcy Monnow stands in the doorway, dressed in casual clothes, glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She's got her brown leather doctor's bag in hand, and a pair of worn brown boots to match, frilly white socks poking out from the top.
"Good morning."
Aldric smiles, tipping his head in greeting as he let's her inside. Callum steps forward with a shaky smile, arms wrapped around himself. "Morning, Marcy."
Marcy smiles. "Nervous?"
"Yes."
"I'll be very careful. It's only a small checkup to see how he's doing."
Callum nods, sucking in a deep breath as he takes the lead and guides the new guest to the spare bedroom.
They'd managed to settle Milton in the new single bed last night, tucking him in and surrounding him with a nest of pillows.
The boy hadn't seemed to mind, too tired from having a bath to really react to anything.
They'd given him breakfast, feeding him some warm soup yet again and helping him drink down his medication. Callum was going to ask Marcy today if they would swap his tablets to a liquid form. The poor boy was struggling to swallow them down.
Knocking on the open bedroom door, Callum peaks into the room with a soft smile on his face. "Milton, we have a visitor."
Milton blinks at the man, eyebrows twisting in confusion for a moment.
He watches from his relaxed spot in his mountain of pillows as the two men enter, broken foot propped up and poking out from the covers.
Aldric had placed one of his big fluffy bed socks on the end to keep his toes warm – he thought he looked a little ridiculous.
Following the two men enters a smaller woman with a gentle smile on her face. Milton tenses, frowning. Who was she? Why was she here? Was she here to take him away?
Before Milton can begin to spiral out of control, Callum places a gentle hand on his chest, grounding him. "Hey, it's okay. This is Marcy. She's a doctor and one of our friends."
A doctor. Milton makes a noise in the back of his throat. Cal begins to gently rub his hand back and forth. "She came to check on your arm and leg, make sure they're healing."
Al steps forward, towering over the two until he takes a seat by Milton's feet. "We'll be here the whole time. Do you think you can let her take a look?"
Both wolves look at the boy with pleading eyes. They needed this just as much as he did. To have someone let them know that Milton was going to be okay.
Milton bobbles his head up and down, lips wobbling a little, but he swallows the feeling down.
Al and Cal said they'd stay here with him.
He'd only known them for a few days, but he trusted them enough to keep him safe.
Afterall, they had fed him (by hand no less), cleaned his body and sung him to sleep.
If they wanted to hurt him, surely, they would have done something by now.
Marcy takes the miniscule of a head nod to step closer, Callum moving out of the way. Milton makes a strangled sound, panic gripping him as Callum shifts away.
Cal's heart breaks a little, his love placing a hand on his back to support him.
"It's okay, I'm just going to sit here with Al so Marcy can get a better look.
" He reaches out and places his hand on Milton's casted leg.
The boy couldn't really feel the touch, but seeing it was enough to calm his racing heart.
Aldric lifts his mate onto his lap, an arm wrapping around his waist. The bed creaks at the shift in weight, bit neither wolf notices.
"My name's Marcy. It's really nice to meet you, Milton."
Milton only stares, hands clenching and unclenching in the quilt cover. She reaches out a hand, open palm. She waits for a minute, smiling patiently as Milton thinks it over, eyes darting from her hand to her face before casting a quick look over at the two men on the need of his bed.
"It's okay, sweetie." Cal smiles, trying to keep a brave face. He knew if he started to get upset it would only make Milton scared.
No one wanted that.
Gingerly, Milton raises his good hand and places it in hers. Marcy smiles. "Thank you for trusting me. I promise, I don't want to hurt you. I only want to make sure that you're on the right track to being happy and healthy."
He watches her as she looks over his hand, long fingers skimming over his swollen and bruises digits, assessing them with a critical eye before she places his hand back on the bed.
"I'm going to take a look at your shoulder now, okay?"
She reaches over, hands skimming over his too-big shirt to prod at the shoulder.
"Did you have pain medication today?"
"Yes, he did." Al speaks up, thumb caressing the skin of his love's clothed stomach. "He had the antibiotics and the vitamin stuff too."
Marcy smiles at Milton before turning to face the pair. "Any trouble with the medications?"
Cal nods. "He's finding it a bit hard to get them down. We – Milton's still struggling a bit with swallowing in general." The sentence falls quiet.
Milton's cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, but the man isn't wrong. It was hard to drink from the cup of water they had been helping him with. Nearly every sip ended with a trickle running down his face, always quick to be mopped up by Callum.
"That's okay. We expected that." Marcy sighs, turning back to Milton.
"I want you to start trying to eat a bit more and get as much fluid into you as possible.
We'll stick to soft foods for now. Soup, and some purees.
Nothing with too many seasonings, we don't want you to get an upset stomach on top of everything else. "
Milton nods, sniffing a little. The doctor reaches out to touch her hands to his face, testing his temperature. "Have you been a bit cold?"
He nods again.
Callum and Al look at each other in concern. "Is it too cold in here?" It felt fine to them, but wolves did naturally run at a higher temperature.
"He probably can't hold his temperature very well due to being undernourished. I'd suggest getting him a hot water bottle and a few extra layers. He'll be okay as long as you two keep up the good food and his daily vitamins."
Callum nods fervently, picking at his hands in his lap, only for Aldric to settle his own hands on top, stilling them.
They had been dressing him in multiple layers.
thankful to the pack for donating so many clothes, but was it not enough?
It was hard not to feel guilty, to feel as if they were the reason he was cold and thin and unable to move.
"Now," Marcy begins, "You'll have to keep that cast on your leg for another couple of months. Your hands are still bruised, I'd like you to start icing them to help with the swelling. You're very lucky they're not fractured."
Milton blinks down at his hands. They were mottled in purples and deep blues, each finger swollen and sore.
His little finger on his left hand looked particularly bad, the purple blooming across the skin a little on the darker side.
he didn't really understand what she was saying, but he knew his hands were not supposed to look like this.
"Should his hands be in casts or – or splints?"
Marcy shakes her head. "No. If he was moving around and using his hands a lot, I would have them in plaster, but since he's on bed rest for the time being he should be fine."
Callum smiles in relief. He could only imagine how miserable the boy would be if both his hands were plastered. He could barely move at it is.
Marcy stands from the bed. "Thank you, Milton, for being such a good patient. I'll come see you in a few weeks to check how you're feeling, but I think you'll heal up very nicely."
She gives the two men a look, and the three wolves exit the room, Callum giving Milton a little pat on his leg before they leave. "We'll be right back; we just need to see Marcy out."
Milton nods, eyes blinking slowly as his body begins to sink back into the pillow, the world around him becoming harder to focus on. The stress from having a new visitor zapping his energy completely. She barely even touched him, yet he was exhausted.
Aldric wraps his arm around his love's shoulder as they exit and stand out in the main living room.
"So, he's okay?"
Marcy purses her lips. "For now, yes. He's still very injured, Cal. The boy is severely malnourished, and I'm worried about his cognitive function. You said he can't drink from a cup. Is it when he swallows or is it his facial muscles?"
Callum looks at his husband, biting his lip.
Al clears his throat. "I'd say it's his facial muscles. He hasn't spoken a word, and he hasn't really been able to use his mouth very well. Even when we spoon feed him... he struggles."
Marcy sighs. "What about any other movement? I know his hands are badly bruised, does he try and use them much?"
"He plays with the blanket a little?" Callum offers in a soft voice.
"In a few weeks, I would like to test his mobility and brain function. We'll do some reflex tests and see what the results show."
"Do you really think he's got brain damage?"
Marcy moves to the door, the other wolves following her. "Yes. Whether or not it's permanent is still unknown. It could get better, but you need to be prepared for the high possibility of it becoming worse."
Worse. Callum's heart sinks. How much worse could it get? Would he be unable to eat completely? Would he be unable to walk? Talk? Why would it get worse? Was it because he was too small? Too fragile? Or was this something that just happens with humans?
Aldric squeezes him closer. "Thank you, Marcy. We'll keep you updated if we notice any changes."
She nods. "I'll send through the new prescriptions for some liquid medication and some suggestions for his meals."
Turning, the doctor lets herself out, the door clicking shut quietly behind her.