Chapter 2 #3
“Let’s get you back to bed, baby. You need to rest.” I try to pull back, but he doesn’t let me. He just holds me even closer, like letting go would kill him.
“I don’t need rest. I just need you. Please, don’t go,” he begs, speaking no louder than a whisper.
“I won’t, baby. I’ll be right here. I promise you,” I whisper in his ear, and the relief I feel when he nods is indescribable. The guys continue to shuffle behind me, and after a quick kiss to Damien’s forehead, I look back at them.
Grease, Zeke, and Carter are all slowly making their way in.
I hate that it feels like they’re trying to subdue a patient during a psychological episode, but he needs to be handled tenderly.
Especially now that I’m in his arms, if he thinks anything around us is a threat, he’ll snap again.
I just hope he realizes that it’s our family and not the enemy.
“Zeke and Carter are going to help you, okay? I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. But I’ll be right here.” I caress his cheek again softly, melting into him as he nudges into it another time.
Like they couldn’t wait a second longer, they walk up to us and wrap their arms around him.
They lift him to his feet like he weighs nothing at all, and I can’t help but choke up.
I feel so fucking helpless. All of the kisses and caresses in the world wouldn’t take the past month away; I can’t just erase the pain.
Damien melts into them, like his strength is dwindling, and when he faintly mutters their names, it hits them harder than I expected it to.
Carter and Zeke give the same emotional response when they hear it.
Both of their faces twist a little, like their own relief is falling upon them, and they’re trying to hold their emotions in.
As much as I hate it, I take a step back as the guys lead him back to bed.
It physically pains me to pull my arms away, but I’m sure to keep myself in his view.
My fingers tingle, like I’ll spontaneously combust, even though he’s only a couple of feet away.
His stare remains on me until he sinks into the bed, and then his eyes roll back, clearly too weak to keep them open any longer.
The moment the guys step back, I shove my way through and sit next to him on the mattress.
This desperate need to be within a foot of him at all times is snaking its way through my limbs, and I’m not sure it will ever go away.
He shivers likes it’s thirty degrees outside and not seventy, and when I cover him up with the blanket, it almost kills me to see him relax the way he does.
The sadness skitters along my skin in a teasing caress, making my hands tremble as I run them over his sweaty head in a sad attempt to soothe him.
I reach for one of the cloths they have on the cart, but he wraps his closest arm around me, keeping his palm pressed to my belly as he tries to pull us closer.
“Don’t go…” he pleads.
“I’m not, baby. We’re all right here,” I reassure him, but I’m not sure he even hears me. His breathing instantly deepens, showing that he’s unconscious once again, but his arm remains wrapped around me—even though it’s now relaxed.
After a few minutes, and I know he’s really asleep, I grab the rag and wipe off his forehead.
It won’t do much until he’s strong and lucid enough to take a shower, but hopefully, it’ll ease some of his apprehension.
Zeke steps back over and drapes his arm around my shoulder, making me stop.
I look up and lock eyes with my brother.
“You okay?” he asks me softly.
“Yeah, I think so. Better now that I’m with him,” I admit. Even with him in the state that he’s in, the relief of finally having him beside me is like I’ve finally found God after years of disbelief. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I feel about the same as you do.” He smirks at me, but then it fades and he looks over to Damien. “I wouldn’t lay down or fall asleep here,” he says reluctantly. “I just don’t want him to wake up in a panic again and you be right next to him.”
I nod, understanding his reasoning—no matter how much I hate it—and look around the room. When I eye the grey lounge chair in the corner, I gesture to it with a firm nod.
“I’ll pull that up in a little while.”
He rolls his eyes, somehow already sick of my shit, and then he walks over to the chair. It apparently weighs nothing with how easily he picks it up and brings it over to the bedside.
“I’ll get it myself, Zeke,” I offer.
“The fuck you will. No heavy lifting, and no lifting at all for two weeks, remember?” He sets the chair down rather harshly, but his dramatic arm swings after tells me there’s a playful edge to it. “And no more walking around today. You're supposed to be on bed rest.”
“Yes, Dr. Moore, I remember,” I joke, and he shakes his head at me, prolonging his feigned annoyance. He looks at me a little more endearingly once his head stops bobbing.
“You still feel her moving?”
“Yeah. All sorts of flips and kicks.”
“Good.” He turns to walk out, and while I won’t move yet, a part of me wants to reach out and squeeze his neck—while I hug him, of course.
He found my husband. My brother brought him home.
After everything he’s been through, he still put us above it, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to come up with the words to tell him how grateful I am.
“Thank you,” I call out after him, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. He stops at the door, like he’s trying to convince himself to keep going. “For everything.”
He stands still for another moment, but then walks out without a second glance.
My heart sinks a little, like suddenly we’re back to uneven ground, and I don’t know why.
Did I do something wrong? Was all of this just too much for him?
He’s finally started to open up to me. I don’t want to go back to the awkwardness and the silence.
I look back down at Damien and study his relaxed face.
The pain is still there, as if he feels it in his unconscious state, but there’s a softness there now.
Somewhere in his mind, he knows that he’s home now.
Even if his delusions continue to play tricks, there’s a piece of him that’s grounded here.
I lay my hand over his on my belly, promising to keep it there until he’s ready to take it away—which might be never, but I’m okay with that too.
Footsteps draw my attention again, and I watch with pinched brows as Zeke walks back in with a pillow and the dark red blanket that Damien bought for me. I can’t help but smile at him and wipe another tear from my eye before it falls.
“You’re my sister, Ash. You're stuck with me. I don’t need your thanks.
” He fixes one of the pillows on the back of the chair and holds his hand out to me, gesturing for me to sit.
I take it and do as he suggests, but I’m sure to keep Damien’s hand on my stomach.
Zeke tediously helps me adjust the pillow before draping the blanket over me, and I can’t help but giggle as he tucks it in beside me like someone would for a kid.
“Now I'm serious, stop fucking moving around so much. That’s my niece in there.”
“Heard that, did you?”
He laughs and ruffles my hair with his hand before placing a kiss on the top of my head.
“You haven’t eaten in a while, so Carter and I are going to make everyone dinner while Ser and Derek talk to you, alright?”
“Who’s keeping an eye on Victoria?”
“Alex is. If I do it, I’ll kill the bitch.” He smirks and walks away. I just shake my head, but then another thought crosses my mind, and no matter how much I hate it, I can’t ignore it.
“Actually, Zeke?” I call out for him before he can walk out of the room. I can’t see him with the angle I’m sitting in, but I hear his steps come to a halt.
“Yeah, Ash?”
“Will you ask Alex to bring her back here with Serena and Derek? I want to know exactly how to treat Damien’s injuries.
If anyone knows what he went through, she does.
” He groans lowly at my suggestion, like even the thought of her anywhere near us will send him into a frenzy.
But then he huffs, like he lost an argument with himself.
“Fine.” His steps pick back up, a little more forcefully, and I focus back on Damien.
It’s taking everything in me not to crawl into bed next to him.
I need to breathe him in again. Those few minutes on the floor weren’t enough.
I’m not sure there’s any amount of time that would be.
I don’t want to waste any more. He’s back where he belongs, but it’s not in bed alone.
It’s beside me. I know we’ll get there again, but I want to be selfish and have it right now.
Zeke makes a good point, but that doesn’t mean I hate it any less.
Until he’s lucid and has control of his own body, we need to do this right.
If he were to hurt either me or the baby by accident, it would kill him.
I just need to focus on what I can control.
Our baby girl is okay, and I can feel her move excitedly in my belly, like even she knows he’s home.
He’s breathing and touching me like he’ll never let go again.
We have a long road ahead of us, and a lot of obstacles to hurdle, but as I take a deep breath in, everything finally feels okay again.
He’s home.