CHAPTER 24
Theo
Matthew had been taken to the healers base in Draelon just like Stryker.
Jack had practically screamed in my face about it when it hadn’t exactly been my fault. I’d screamed back as such, but only Stryker stepping in had gotten the lad to shut up.
Thankfully, Jack left the next day, giving me a sharp warning to make sure Stryker ate. It had confused me but I’d agreed, childishly pulling a face behind his back once he’d turned because the guy was irritating and had a worse temper than myself, which was…unbelievable, really.
Matthew and Stryker both had the patience of saints, but even Stryker lost his temper more than Matthew.
He returned a week later, still suffering from bouts of vomiting and a mild fever but relatively better.
It was a relief. I had missed him- Johnathan hadn’t allowed visitors.
According to him, the only reason I’d been allowed to visit Stryker was because the commander himself was going.
I didn’t find that fair on everyone else, but whatever.
“I’m never drinking ever again.” Matthew declared after a round of vomiting that had followed a plate of probably too saucy pasta- Alex could be blamed for that.
I leant against the wardrobe door, arms folded, a smirk pulling at my lips at the statement.
Matthew was sprawled out on the bed, his eyes closed, one arm draped around his stomach.
His voice was hoarse, like his throat hurt, which was unsurprising considering the violent bout of vomiting he’d just finished riding out.
I could still hear his stomach gurgling, trying to settle, but I knew better than to draw attention to it.
“Really?” I mused “never ever?”
Matthew grunted “that’s right.”
I rolled my eyes “sure.” I drawled “or you’ll just get better, forget about how much you suffered and get right back to it.”
His brows furrowed slightly, then he cracked an eye open to look at me and raised the arm that wasn’t curled around his aching middle “that’s something you’d do. Come here.”
I rolled my eyes again, pushing off the wardrobe and settling down beside him on the bed, gently resting my cheek on the slightly- six months-older boy’s shoulder. Matthew’s eyes fluttered shut again and he pulled my hand to rest over his own on his stomach.
“Tired?” I asked softly, unable to fight the smile pulling at my lips once more.
Matthew hummed. He slid my hand under his shirt, resting it over his rumbling stomach.
“You scared me.” I admitted.
“I scared myself.” Matthew replied, kissing my forehead.
“Who was it?” I asked quietly.
Matthew shrugged “some guy from Stadal. He was in his uniform, I should have…they’re declaring war against us, of course he’s gonna target me.”
“Well, you were pissed. Not thinking clearly.”
“Who’s fault is that?” He mumbled without any real bite.
“Yours? For catching feelings?”
Matthew just scoffed, not offering a reply. He didn’t seem amused by the comment.
“I’m gay.” He mumbled eventually.
I paused. I fought back a laugh but couldn’t help it, cackling, covering my face with my free arm and ending up in a full blown giggling fit “wow. That...is observant of you, Matt. I never would have guessed.” I sniggered.
Matthew’s brows drew together “shut up, I’m serious. You like girls too.”
“Correction, I only like girls and you.”
“Whatever.” Matthew huffed “I’m just saying I don’t like girls. At all.”
“Okay.” I replied simply, not knowing what else to say “you do you. Sleep.”
“Theo-“
“Shh.” I shushed, nudging Matthew’s leg with my foot “you know you want to. Sleep.”
“Wait a minute.”
I did, patiently. Matthew seemed to be summoning the courage to say what he wanted to.
“I…got told why you’re here.”
My heart sank. I’d had a momentary lapse in logic and attempted an overdose in the bathroom of my crappy place; luckily, my drug addict mother had barged in and had found me just in time.
My father, upon hearing the news, got me into fighting as a way of channelling my inner frustration and eventually signed me up to the army when I was good enough.
At the same time, I understood what this was. Matthew opening up about something about him- being completely gay- in return for me opening up about this. I couldn’t even be bothered to muster up irritation.
“I’m fine.” I promised “it was a stupid moment. I’m not…planning on doing something like that again.”
“You sure?” Matthew asked carefully.
“Yeah, Matt. Pretty damn sure.”
He was tense against me. He didn’t believe me. That was the frustrating part.
“It’s not shit to take lightly, Theo, I-“
“Matt.” I huffed “it won’t happen again. Okay?”
“Okay.” He whispered “if you’re sure-“
“A hundred percent.”
“Good. Why-?”
“It was a low time for me, alright?” I said gently “I felt like a waste of space-“
“You are not-“
“I don’t need you to tell me that.” I sighed with a small smile “I don’t want to talk about it at all. It’s over. It happened. It won’t happen again. Since the experience the importance I give my life has tripled.”
Matthew snorted, responding by lifting my hand and kissing it.
A beat of silence passed. A thought occurred to me. “Who told you?”
A snore answered my question.
I raised an eyebrow, unamused “I know you’re faking.”
Another, very pointed snore.
I rolled my eyes. Whatever.
I’d been laying there, listening to Matt’s even breathing, for I didn’t know how long before remembering that Jack had firmly instructed that I kept an eye on Stryker. Come to think of it, I’d been doing a shitty job at it.
I slowly, carefully, climbed out of bed to not jostle Matthew before equally as carefully opening and closing the bedroom door.
I poked my head in Stryker’s- and my own- room from the doorway, frowning at the darkness that engulfed the area, and at the Stryker sized lump in the middle of his bed. Jesus, it was three in the afternoon.
“S? Time to get up. Wakey wakey.” I knocked on the wall.
“I’m not asleep.” Stryker replied hoarsely, not moving an inch.
I furrowed my brows further “well…don’t you…have training or something?”
“Probably.”
I blew out a breath. Okay, so…it was three, he clearly hadn’t gotten up…he hadn’t eaten. Great.
“Come on, up you get. I’m…we’ll leave soon.” It was a lie, mainly because I wasn’t sure if Stryker would get up if I’d said it was to eat something.
He just groaned.
“Hey, none of that. Downstairs in five minutes. I mean it.”
I left the door open as I left, jogging down the stairs to find something to make without Matthew’s help.
I was left completely stumped. I was shit at cooking. I considered asking one of the other guys but thought against it- it was probably best to avoid too many questions.
I was just finishing making a sandwich when Stryker made an appearance downstairs, wearing sweats and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t his, hands hidden in the pockets.
I sucked in a breath- he looked awful. He had dark shadows under his eyes that almost looked like bruises, his hair was stringy and flat, and he was trembling where he stood, his legs shaking.
“You look awful.” I voiced my thoughts before I could stop myself.
He turned his pale face away, swallowing thickly “yeah, I know.”
I blew out a breath “uh…sandwich?” I offered bleakly, at loss.
Stryker visibly shuddered “nah.”
“S…what have you been eating lately?”
He just stood there, staring at the floor like he wanted it to swallow him up and spare him from having to answer.
It made my heart sink.
I clutched the edge of the incredibly long kitchen table, forcing myself to stay put and not go over there and shake some sense into him.
“Stryker.” I repeated “god fucking damn it, what have you been eating?”
“Nothing!” He squeezed his eyes shut, shivering “nothing, I…I swear.”
I flinched. “What…?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question.
Stryker opened his eyes again, looking as horrified as I felt. He swayed where he stood, and I rounded the counter, moving towards him, but Stryker staggered away “don’t!” He shook his head frantically, shoulders slamming into the wall behind him “don’t touch me. Please.”
I gulped. I took half a step back, looking at Stryker long and hard. His face was so pasty it looked grey, and his usually dark eyes looked more black than they did brown.
“I won’t.” I grimaced, pointing towards the living room “why don’t…why don’t you go and sit down a minute. You look a little shaky.”
Stryker scoffed “I…I’m not shaky.”
Despite that, he did as suggested, shuffling towards the living room. I couldn’t help staying close, just in case.
He swayed again halfway there, and he made brief eye contact with me, looking absolutely defeated, like he’d resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way without help.
I smiled sadly, feeling sick at how light he felt when he allowed me to support him the rest of the way.
He’d taken his hands out of his pockets, and I noted that he’d been concealing the fact that he’d been clutching his stomach this whole time.
He lowered himself gingerly onto the sofa. I sighed and crouched in front of him as he groaned and shivered, head disappearing between his knees.
“Theo?” He croaked after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“I…I feel sick.”
I chewed my lip “you sure? It’s not just hunger pains?”
Stryker shuddered again “no.” He whispered “I feel sick.”
I grimaced, automatically glancing upwards towards the bedroom Matthew was currently asleep in.
“Alright.” I whispered, more to myself than to Stryker “hang on, alright? I’ll…get you a bucket.”
Despite that, I doubted Stryker would have anything to bring up anyway.
I jogged to the kitchen and back to the lounge, finding that, unsurprisingly, Stryker hadn’t moved. I hesitated for a moment, then crouched again and nudged the tin bucket against his legs “you need this?” I asked quietly.