Chapter Five – Three Years Later
Daire stood in dragon form, enjoying the sun on his scales. He wasn’t sure exactly how far one hundred acres stretched, but he’d never met anyone else during his and Doc’s excursions here.
The abandoned foundation of a nearby house looked forlorn, the unrequited dream of Doc and Nate.
“That’s good,” Doc said, running his hand along the largest spine in Daire’s left wing. “Now, don’t strain, but stretch out the wing as far as you can. Stop if you feel pain.”
Daire did as told, gritting his teeth in anticipation of the expected sharp stabs. Today he managed nearly a full wingspread, something he’d worked three long years to accomplish.
Doc traced delicate fingers over the webbing between spines.
Whereas once Daire felt a fly landing, Doc’s touch ebbed and flowed, a gentle stroke in one area, a grating scrape in another, and nothing in other places.
Good thing functioning nerves weren’t necessary in the webbing, except to warn of danger.
“You’ve been coming out here at least twice per week, haven’t you?”
Daire nodded his massive head, exhaling a touch of smoke from his nose.
Doc laughed, patting Daire’s cheek. “I know. Physical therapy gets annoying, but you need to keep the wing limber. Now, let’s try the other one.
” He rounded Daire’s snout to his other side, moving more slowly than usual.
Was he tired? “This one took the brunt of the attack. Can you stretch this one as far as the other?”
Daire grimaced, extending his wing. Ow! That hurt!
“Stop! I can see how painful the wing is from your tensing. Don’t extend beyond what’s comfortable.”
If Daire took the instruction literally, they’d get nowhere. He pulled the wing back a fraction.
Once more, Doc ran gentle fingers over the spines and webbing. “The other one isn’t as extensively injured, just spots of deep tissue damage.”
Now for the part that made the muscle stretching worthwhile.
Doc reached into the backpack he’d left on the ground and removed a plastic container.
Removing the lid caused a popping sound.
Daire shivered in anticipation, then let out a contented rumble as Doc massaged soothing ointment into the wing.
His dragon melted at Doc’s touch.
“Like that, do you?” Doc gave an affectionate chuckle.
“Trial and error, but I think I finally got the mix right, though I think the other members of the iguana owners' message board are starting to suspect you’re a bit bigger than their pets. Still, the salve works. Your wing membrane is more like an iguana’s skin than scales. ”
Daire tuned out, groaning in pleasure at Doc’s ministrations. Doc finished the wing, then worked on the other. May the Goddess grant Daire someone to stroke his wings with salve when he finally reached the afterlife.
Daire’s front legs came next, not as badly burned as the wings, but still scarred. “These look fine, and you’ve never had trouble moving your arms.” Doc returned the container to the backpack and faced Daire, lips pressed into a tight line, furrows forming between his brows.
He ran his hand over Daire’s deep facial scars, humming to himself. “Do these hurt at all?”
Daire waited until Doc backed away a few steps to shake his head, having learned from lessons early in their relationship: a) One wrong move could send Doc airborne. b) Doc didn’t like going airborne.
“That’s good. You can shift now unless you want to enjoy the sunshine for a while.”
Daire concentrated on his human form, shrinking down to his smaller form.
Doc handed him a pair of loose cotton shorts, turning away to give the illusion of privacy.
He’d needn’t have bothered. He should know by now, modesty and dragon didn’t belong in the same sentence.
Besides, Doc had seen Daire naked often enough to know every inch of his body.
He still appreciated the gesture.
Daire dressed and Doc performed the examination again on his human form.
Only familiarity let Daire catch Doc’s wince. “Doc?”
Doc stumbled. Daire caught him before he hit the ground and lowered him gently in the grass. “Doc? Doc? Are you all right?”
“Just let me catch my breath,” Doc gasped, reaching out to clasp Daire’s hand, face scrunched and jaws clenched. Daire’s close personal relationship with pain let him know the severity.
He ran his gaze over Doc’s body, seeing what frequent visits dulled his senses to. Doc had lost weight, and removing his facial hair wasn’t a fashion choice.
Doc eventually eased his grip on Daire’s hand.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, but I’ve put things off long enough.
You know I’ve been sick for some time, though asymptomatic for years.
The cancer has now metastasized to my brain.
I’ve started chemo treatments, but I don’t anticipate a good outcome. ”
Nothing in the dragon realm prepared Daire for Doc’s cancer diagnosis. “You’re a doctor. Isn’t there more you can do?”
Doc gave a humorless laugh. “I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but I’m not that kind of doctor.
” He met and held Daire’s gaze. “I’m seventy-four years old.
Past the usual retirement age for a human.
I’ve lived a wonderful life, loved a good man for forty years.
My only regret is I won’t be here for you much longer. ”
Doc couldn’t leave! Not now! “Don’t talk like that. You’ll be around for a long time yet.” You have to be!
Doc shook his head. “I’ve kept Nate waiting long enough.”
Could humans even join dragons in the afterlife? “What can I do?”
“Let me rest a while longer, then drive me home, please.”
Daire donned the remainder of his clothes, then helped Doc back to the car and into the passenger seat. He’d driven Doc’s car a few times, though he far preferred his truck. He liked his vehicles like he liked his men: sturdy and not easily dented.
“Do we need to stop for anything along the way? You got food at the house?” What could Daire possibly do to make Doc feel better? Betas excelled at causing injuries, not healing.
Doc waved a dismissive hand. “I have everything I need. Don’t worry about me.”
“You worry about me.” Had in fact spent three years worrying about Daire.
“I’m entitled,” Doc replied, voice more robust now. “I’m your doctor.”
“And I’m entitled to worry about you because I’m your patient.” I need you!
Doc patted Daire’s shoulder. “I only wish worrying helped.”
Daire pulled the car down a street with stately houses, some so large he couldn’t fathom that a mere two people lived there, or one, in Doc’s case. The late September sun had withered many of the flower gardens he’d seen in full bloom a few weeks ago.
He parked in the two-car garage, then assisted Doc into the house and onto his bed. “What can I get you?”
“Just a glass of tea, please.”
Daire dashed into the kitchen, returning with the tea. “Do you need me to stay?”
“No, you’ve helped me quite enough. Besides, you need a swim tonight in the river. It’ll help loosen your muscles after your PT today. Take the car.”
“No. You might need it. I’ll call a rideshare.”
“Then go on, I’ll be all right.”
But he wouldn’t be. Daire knew little about human illnesses, but he’d seen enough television to understand that “chemo” sometimes meant “not much time left.”
His keen dragon senses recognized imminent death, something he’d not noticed before. His mother, father, brothers, home, Ywain, and now Doc. Everything Daire had ever loved was stripped away. Why! Why must he lose everything? What had he ever done to deserve a constantly broken heart?
A faint rumbling inside reminded him his dragon remained with him always. Daire curled in on himself, sitting on Doc’s porch with his arms wrapped around his knees. He stared at the starry sky, embracing his inner dragon and letting the pain have its way until the Uber arrived.
Most of the houses near the cabin stood empty today, occupied by their wealthy owners only in summer and on weekends. Not a BMW or Lexus in sight meant privacy for a quick swim.
Daire shucked his clothing at the edge of the river, shivering from the combination of cool night air and brisk water. He waded out past his shoulders, then breast-stroked his way to the center of the river, fighting a current too powerful for most humans.
He imagined his altered state—snout, wings, four legs—and shifted.
One moment cold caused goosebumps on his skin, the next moment the currents swirled around his scaled form.
Keeping his body submerged kept him hidden from prying eyes, though in the darkness, no one could be certain what they saw unless he wandered too close to one of the security lights from a neighboring property.
A dog barked in the distance, but domesticated canines presented no threat to him, nor did the coyote lapping water on the shore. Coyotes and deer used to scatter at his presence; now they barely noticed him anymore unless he approached.
Only his head protruded from the water, keeping his eyes and nostrils clear. He imagined himself as an alligator he’d seen on a nature show, creeping in the shallows seeking a meal.
Daire’s dragon form didn’t feel cold as keenly as his human one.
Densely packed muscles and scales offered insulation from all but the most severe temperatures.
He paddled slowly with all four legs, easing downstream where the river widened and the currents weren’t so fast. He practiced opening and closing his wings, stretching the muscles like he’d stretch his legs before a run.
Sore, but responsive. He opened his wings as fully as he could, sweeping them downward as he would when taking flight. The river resisted more than air, though the water compensated by making his body lighter.
He swept his wings up, feeling the strain in the muscles used for flying, then swept them down again. The motion drove him forward. After half an hour, he turned so as not to get too close to a neighboring house with lights on in the windows.
His muscles strained, but on he struggled in the opposite direction. He’d made six circuits last week. Surely, he could do seven this week. Only constant improvement would help his poor wings.
He lay still in the water at the end of the sixth circuit, playing alligator again, panting and letting the currents soothe the tiredness from his limbs.
Six. He managed only six. How disappointing.
His flying again would be as much a triumph for Doc as for Daire.
He must do this for Doc, his brothers, and the court.
They’d need all the fighters they could get.
Sakaris had hinted that Daire might meet someone important, but after three years, here he remained, alone.
You can’t meet someone if you barely leave the cabin.
Daire’s dragon still grieved the loss of friends and family. A luxury Daire couldn’t allow himself lest he slip into despair. He eyed the far shore, raising his wings once again, determined to make the seventh circuit.