Chapter Twenty-Four
Laz
Brooks is going with me to my last appointment with the lead physician on my team.
I'll still keep up the therapy, but as far as purely medical treatment goes, I'm as healed as the extensive team Brooks hired can make me.
And thank fuck for it because I am sick of going to appointments and giving samples and being prodded and examined.
I am very much looking forward to a long while of being left alone.
I just want things to be normal now. I want normal outings, normal day-to-day life, and normal conversations.
I am beyond tired of being asked how I feel.
Part of today's appointment will cover my current and future reproductive health.
I'm anxious. That has been made abundantly clear during my therapy sessions.
Before, when Brooks and I were younger, we never really planned what our family would look like.
It was always one of those things that we both assumed would happen later when our lives were more suitable for such things.
There were a few comments made here and there about eventually settling down and things like that, but we never sat down and talked about what we wanted our future to look like.
Today will tell us if that's even possible in the future.
I've done a lot of damage to my body. It's not a secret.
I might be ashamed about it, but there's no point in trying to hide it or trying to talk around it.
I spent a lot of years abusing myself. The amount of chemically designed hormone simulators I've put through my system has most definitely had a negative effect on how my body will behave.
I can't even remember the last natural heat I had.
I don't remember what a naturally occurring heat spike even feels like.
The false heat I subjected myself to for years was so intense and lasted so long.
I had spikes, but they weren't normal. I had heats, but they weren't normal, either.
It felt so good to let everything go and forget myself and everything else that I didn't care.
Now that I've got Brooks back, I'm terrified that I've taken something from us.
I know he wants kids. I've always known it.
That's part of why I let myself go so wild to begin with.
I wanted to live a little before I settled into a life of domesticated monotony.
That makes it sound like I didn't want it, and that's not true.
I did. I do. But I wanted to be, I don't know, carefree for a while.
Maybe even a little careless. I knew that life would calm down and Brooks and I would settle into a family when the time was right.
But then I got truly careless. And selfish.
Then I ruined everything. And now we're here, and I have so much regret that it's hard to breathe.
I can't focus on that. Not all the time, anyway.
The therapist says that it's a process. He says that I will probably cycle through emotions about everything, but that I'm on the road to healing and it's normal.
I want to heal. I want to be normal. So, I'll cling to what he says and move forward as best I can.
I won't handle it well if we get bad news at today's appointment, though, regardless of the therapy.
“Ready?” Brooks asks, poking his head inside my door and giving me a wide smile.
He knows I'm nervous. He's been trying to distract me any way he can for the past couple of days, but nothing has helped. I've been having a hard time sleeping and eating, and that's done nothing but worry him on top of the worry he already carries.
“As ready as I'm going to be.” I return his smile, but I'm sure it looks as stressed as I feel.
An hour and a half later, my last exam is over, and Brooks and I are sitting across from the doctor in his office. My heart is thudding heavily in my chest and Brooks's palm is cold and damp against mine.
“You can take the anxiety down a level or two,” the doctor says across the desk. “The news isn't terrible. It's not exactly sunshine and rainbows, but it certainly isn't a death sentence.”
I take a big breath and puff out my cheeks when I blow it out. “Just tell us what it is, if you don't mind. Then explain it.”
The doctor chuckles. “Fair enough. I'm giving you a clean bill of health. You will have certain struggles, probably for the rest of your life, but you will have a relatively normal life.”
Hope flickers. “So, I'm good?”
He smiles at me again. “Yes. For the most part.”
Brooks straightens and leans forward. “For the most part?”
The doctor nods and sits back in his leather chair.
“You will struggle with the addiction to the chemicals.
It might be worse at some times than others, but I believe you're strong enough to handle it, Laz.
Help is always available, and there are many resources.
The important thing for you to understand about it, however, is that you experienced a very intense overdose.
If Brooks hadn't gotten to you in time, you would have died. The amount of chemicals in your system when you got to the hospital is astounding. It is absolutely imperative that those chemicals, or any other similar chemicals, never be reintroduced ever again. One more heavy dose could, and likely would, kill you.”
I nod. I have no plans to ever take R or anything like it. I don't want that life. “What else?”
He laces his fingers together over his stomach as he settles farther into his chair. “I don't see any reason why you shouldn't resume a natural heat cycle. Eventually.”
“Eventually?” Brooks asks. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” the doctor continues, “eventually.
There is no time frame for these sorts of things, Brooks.
Laz's body will continue to heal, and he should start re-establishing a typical omega cycle. It might take a little while, and it may be a little stuttered, but I believe he will settle into a regular cycle. Eventually.”
“Is there any way to determine when that might happen?” Brooks asks.
The doctor's brow raises, and he pins Brooks with a heavy look. “I'm not looking to rush his recovery, and it would stunt it if you were to rush it. It will happen when it does.”
I lick my lips and squeeze Brooks's hand. “What about,” I pause, my cheeks heating, “kids? Is that out of the realm of possibilities?”
Our bond pulses, but I can't bring myself to look at Brooks. We haven't discussed it, but we're here with the doctor now, and it's a natural part of this conversation.
The doctor hums. “Well, if your cycle resumes and becomes regular, I can't see a reason you should have any trouble conceiving. As long as it isn't anytime soon.” He levels another hard look at Brooks.
“So, I can have kids?”
“As of right now, I don't think it's an impossibility. I will caution you that it isn't a guarantee. We can do another exam and do some testing when your cycle resumes if you'd like.”
“Yeah.” I nod, feeling a lot better about everything. “I'd like that.”
The ride home isn't exactly tense, but the energy is tight. Brooks and I are both buzzing with our own thoughts. It takes nearly half an hour for me to explode.
“Are you going to be okay with me going into heat?”
“What?” His head turns sharply to look at me before going back to the road. “Of course, I'm okay with it. You're supposed to go into heat.”
I pull my lip between my teeth and rub my thighs. “What I mean is,” I take a breath, “will you be okay with helping me through it?”
“Is that a serious question?”
I nod, but he can't see it. “Yeah,” I say quietly.
Brooks looks at me again. “What else would I be doing, Laz?”
“I don't know,” I mumble, looking out the window.
“Don't be ridiculous,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You're my Omega. It is my duty and privilege to take care of you during your heat. I look forward to it.”
Neither of us says anything for a few more minutes, then we both blurt out a question at the same time.
“Will you claim me again during my heat?”
“You want children?”
Another awkward silence follows. Those were two very different questions.
“I,” he starts. “What?”
I sink down into my seat and pick at the loose loop of yarn on the wrist of my sweater. “I want you to mark me again. When I go into heat.”
“You want me to try to create a second claiming mark?”
“Can you?”
I can feel his eyes on me when he glances over again. “I can certainly try. If that's what you truly want. But not during your first heat. Or any heat, for that matter.”
The pout takes over my mouth and tone before I can stop it. “Why not?”
“Because I want you to remember it,” he answers bluntly. “And I want to enjoy it.”
That dries up my pout. I do want to remember it.
I was literally dying when he put his mark on me.
I'm surprised the mark took outside of being knotted, but it did.
I've wondered more than once if it's a complete binding, which is one of the reasons why I want the secondary mark.
Guilt snakes around me at the second part, though.
I didn't consider that he may not have enjoyed claiming me. I honestly never even thought about it.
“Kids?”
I blush. “I mean,” I say softly, almost whispering, “yeah. If you don't, it's okay. I just always thought that we'd… “ My words fizzle out awkwardly as my face gets hotter.
He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I peek over at him to find him smiling. The tightness in my chest eases a little.
“I didn't know whether you'd want to have any or not.”
“I don't want to rush it, or anything,” I say quickly.
He reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “I want them if you want them.”
I do want them. I always have, but after I was with Kris for so long, and all the things that happened when I was with her, I didn't think I'd ever be able to, so I just gave up the idea.
I gave up so many ideas, including Brooks.
I've thought about him so many times over the years, but I was never brave enough or strong enough to reach out.
Shame played a huge part in it. But I'm here now.
We're here. And things can be good again. Everything can be okay now.