Chapter 5 Scar Tissue
Looking Closer
Gideon waited three days before returning to Reyes Ink.
He told himself the delay was necessary because of work.
The station had been busy, and there had been several calls that kept the crew moving through most of their shifts.
He told himself he needed time to think about what he wanted to do with the scars and that there was no reason to rush into something permanent.
Those explanations were reasonable.
They were also incomplete.
The truth was that Gideon had been thinking about Nico since the moment he left the studio.
He had thought about the conversation they had shared, the warehouse fire he had finally spoken about, and the moment when he had nearly kissed Nico before fear had taken control. Most of all, he had thought about the way Nico had handled everything without making him feel weak.
That was what kept bringing him back.
Not the tattoo.
Not the attraction.
Trust.
By the fourth day, Gideon crossed the street after his shift and stopped outside the studio.
The sign above the door was lit.
He stood there for a moment before entering.
Nico looked up from a sketchbook.
“Three days.”
Gideon frowned.
“You were counting?”
“I noticed.”
“You notice too much.”
Nico smiled.
“Occupational hazard.”
Gideon looked toward the consultation area.
“I want another look.”
Nico closed the sketchbook.
“All right.”
There was no teasing in his voice now.
He understood that Gideon was serious.
Gideon sat down.
Nico brought over his chair and placed it beside the consultation table.
“Do you want to talk about the design?”
“Not yet.”
“That's fine.”
Gideon removed his jacket.
Then he hesitated.
Nico waited.
“I want you to look at the whole area.”
Nico nodded.
“Okay.”
Gideon pulled his shirt carefully away from his shoulder.
More of the scars became visible.
Nico had seen portions before, but not the full extent.
He didn't react.
That was one of the things Gideon appreciated most about him.
Nico looked at the scars as a professional would look at any difficult piece of work, but there was nothing cold about his attention. His eyes moved carefully over the skin, following the changes in texture and shape.
He didn't touch immediately.
Instead, he studied.
“Some areas are more raised than others,” Nico said. “This section here is tighter.”
Gideon nodded.
“I can feel it when I move.”
“Does it restrict your movement?”
“Sometimes.”
“How much?”
“Depends on the day.”
Nico reached for a small bottle of medical-grade skin-safe cleanser.
“I'm going to clean the area before I examine it more closely. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
He applied the cleanser carefully.
Then he paused.
“May I touch this section?”
Gideon looked at where Nico was pointing.
“Yes.”
Nico placed two fingers against the scar.
His touch was light.
Gideon's body remained tense for a moment, then slowly relaxed.
He noticed the change.
So did Nico.
Neither commented on it.
Nico moved along the edge of the scar, testing the tissue carefully.
“How does that feel?”
“Fine.”
“Here?”
“Fine.”
“And here?”
Gideon's shoulder tightened.
Nico immediately stopped.
“Sensitive?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
He moved his hand away.
Gideon looked at him.
“You always stop that quickly?”
“When you tense, yes.”
“You don't want to see how far I can handle?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn't a test.”
The answer made Gideon go quiet.
Nico continued examining the scar only after Gideon gave him permission.
He explained what he was seeing without using complicated language. Some sections were firm and raised. Other areas were smoother but lacked the elasticity of healthy skin. There were places where the texture changed abruptly, making a single tattoo design more complicated.
Gideon listened.
“So you can work around it.”
“I can work with it.”
“What's the difference?”
“Working around it means pretending the scar isn't there.”
Nico looked at him.
“Working with it means understanding that the scar changes the canvas.”
Gideon looked down.
“Canvas.”
“Tattoo artists use that word sometimes.”
“I know.”
“But you don't like it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Gideon thought about it.
“Because it makes my skin sound like something that belongs to someone else.”
Nico nodded.
“That makes sense.”
He removed his gloves.
“I'll never treat your body like a blank surface.”
Gideon looked at him.
Nico continued.
“You aren't starting from nothing. The skin already has a history.”
Gideon's expression changed slightly.
He looked at the scars again.
“My history.”
“Yes.”
“I don't want it.”
“I know.”
The words were quiet.
Gideon looked at Nico.
“You don't think I should cover them?”
“I think you should do whatever makes you feel comfortable in your own body.”
“That sounds like another way of saying I shouldn't.”
“No.”
Nico shook his head.
“If covering them helps you, then cover them. If you want to leave them alone, leave them alone. If you want something that incorporates them into the design, we can do that too.”
Gideon studied him.
“You really don't have an opinion.”
“I have opinions.”
“About this?”
“About tattooing.”
“Not about me?”
Nico paused.
“I have opinions about you.”
Gideon's heart gave a slow, unexpected beat.
“What kind?”
Nico smiled slightly.
“You're stubborn.”
Gideon almost laughed.
“That's your opinion?”
“One of them.”
“What else?”
“You're more patient than you pretend to be.”
Gideon looked away.
“That's not true.”
“It is.”
“You don't know me.”
“I know what I've seen.”
Gideon looked back.
Nico held his gaze.
“And I've seen you help people without expecting anything in return.”
Gideon said nothing.
“I've seen you fix things because they're broken.”
“Anyone would.”
“No.”
Nico shook his head.
“Not everyone notices.”
Gideon felt uncomfortable.
He was much more comfortable discussing scars than himself.
“Can we stay on the tattoo?”
Nico smiled.
“Sure.”
He returned his attention to the scar.
“What kind of design were you thinking?”
“I don't know.”
“Black and gray?”
“Maybe.”
“Geometric?”
“Not sure.”
“Something realistic?”
“I don't know.”
Nico looked at him.
“You really haven't thought about it.”
“I've thought about hiding it.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
Gideon leaned back.
“No.”
The silence stretched.
Then he said, “I don't know what I want.”
Nico didn't rush to answer.
Gideon looked down at his hands.
“I thought I did.”
“What did you think you wanted?”
“To stop seeing it.”
Nico remained quiet.
“Every morning,” Gideon continued, “I see them.”
His fingers moved unconsciously toward his shoulder.
“When I shower. When I change. When I look in the mirror. They're always there.”
Nico listened.
“I know people say they're proof that I survived.”
Gideon's expression hardened.
“I don't want proof.”
Nico didn't argue.
“I just want to look at myself without thinking about that night.”
The words were harder to say than he expected.
His throat tightened.
“I don't know if I want to hide the scars or if I just want them to stop owning the mirror.”
Nico looked at him.
“That makes more sense.”
Gideon frowned.
“What does?”
“You aren't necessarily asking me to erase the scars.”
Nico spoke carefully.
“You might be asking me to help change what you see when you look at them.”
Gideon sat very still.
He had never considered the difference.
He had always thought the only choices were hiding the scars or living with them.
Nico had given him another possibility.
“Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“That isn't a guarantee.”
“No.”
Nico smiled faintly.
“I'm an artist. I can design something. I can work carefully with the skin. I can give you my professional opinion. But I can't decide what you'll feel when you see it.”
Gideon nodded.
“That makes sense.”
Nico gathered the consultation materials.
“We don't have to choose today.”
Gideon looked at him.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep trying to make yourself decide.”
“Maybe I need to.”
“Why?”
Gideon thought about it.
“Because if I don't decide, nothing changes.”
Nico leaned back.
“Maybe nothing changing is better than making a permanent decision because you're hurting.”
Gideon looked at him for a long moment.
That was the problem with Nico.
He never told Gideon what he wanted to hear.
He told him what he needed to consider.
Gideon slowly pulled his shirt back over his shoulder.
“I'm not ready.”
“I know.”
“But I might be.”
Nico nodded.
“When you are, we'll talk.”
Gideon stood.
He reached for his jacket.
At the door, he stopped.
“You didn't touch the scar very much.”
Nico looked at him.
“You didn't need me to.”
Gideon considered that.
He had expected the answer to make him feel relieved.
Instead, it made him want to turn around.
He didn't.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Gideon.”
Gideon stepped outside.
The evening air was cool against his face.
He crossed the street toward the firehouse, but halfway across, he stopped and looked back.
Nico was still visible through the studio window.
He was already returning to his sketchbook.
Gideon watched him for a moment.
There had been a time when he could not stand the idea of anyone looking closely at his scars.
Now, strangely, the person he trusted most to look at them was the man across the street.
That realization followed him into the firehouse.
And for the first time, Gideon understood that maybe the tattoo was never really about hiding the scars.
Maybe it was about changing the way he saw the man beneath them.
What He Won’t Say
The studio was quieter than usual when Gideon returned that evening.
Nico had finished his last appointment almost an hour earlier, and the front door was locked. Only the lamps above the workstations remained on, casting pools of warm light across the room. He was sitting behind the counter, reviewing a design on his tablet, when he heard a knock against the glass.
He looked up.
Gideon stood outside.
Nico unlocked the door.
“You're early.”
Gideon stepped inside.
“Early for what?”
Nico closed the door behind him.
“Nothing.”
Gideon glanced around the studio.
“I need to talk.”
Nico put the tablet down.
“Okay.”
Gideon remained standing.
He looked uncomfortable.
Not because he was angry.