Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

in pain, anger, or just the effort of trying not to cry. Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed and waited. He'd gotten good at that. Daren was smart enough to know that certain things had to be done; some days it just took him a little time to get there.
    Finally, he got himself under some kind of control and held out his arm to Sebastian. The elastic bandages holding the aluminum splint in place had become dingy and loose in places. "You know what, let me rewrap all this." Daren didn't say anything, just kept his arm out while Sebastian unrolled the bandages. The skin underneath was pale and shriveled, and the wrist was still lumpy, bruised and swollen.
    Sebastian ran his fingers along it looking for any new hot spots. He ran his thumb over the scar on Daren's forearm and remembered a question he'd wanted to ask.
    "When did you have malaria?"
    Daren started. "How did you know about that?" he asked his eyes going wide.
    "You told me."
    "When?"
    "The first time I wrapped up your arm. I asked about that scar."
    Daren looked at Sebastian sideways. "I don't remember that."
    "I think you were still pretty out of it. But malaria isn't exactly common."
    "It was a family vacation-slash-business trip. I was eight, almost nine. My father decided I didn't need the anti-malaria drugs since we wouldn't be leaving the resort."
    "Because mosquitos can read signs that say ‘Resort Guests Only.’"
    Daren rolled his eyes. "Something like that. Richard argued with my dad about it. My dad just blew him off, so he got the hotel to put up mosquito netting around my bed and covered me in bug repellent. But about two weeks in, I spiked a fever in the middle of the night, and Richard had to rush me to the hospital while my parents were at some business dinner thing. I was there for a week while they tried to find an anti-malaria drug I didn't react weirdly to. That was the same trip I realized that perhaps my father wasn't the best person on earth and that my mother was sleeping with Richard."
    Sebastian wiped down Daren's arm with some antibacterial wipes. "So, not the greatest family vacation."
    "Not really, no. But Richard did teach me how to body surf. That was cool."
    Sebastian wondered if there was any way of getting hold of this Richard guy even if he was in another country. It sounded like he may have been the one person in Daren's life to put much work into protecting him.
    "Are you still in contact with Richard.?"
    "No. He said he'd write after dad got him deported, but I think they must have been screening my mail. And ex-SAS officers named Richard Smith don't really pop up at the top of Facebook searches."
    "He just sounds like someone who could help you out in this."
    Daren shrugged a little while Sebastian carefully re-fit the splint to his wrist. "I used to have little daydreams about my dad dying and my mother marrying Richard so we could move to England and live in a castle."
    "A castle?"
    "I was a kid. I practically lived in a castle half the time anyway."
    "I guess that's reasonable." He began to slowly rewrap the splint, making sure it wasn't too tight but still held in place. He knew that what that arm needed was a proper cast, just like Daren really still needed a proper doctor.
    Daren rubbed at his face with his good hand. "I suppose I could pick up the phone and just start calling all the Richard Smiths in England. Assuming he's even there."
    "Might rack up the long distance bill a bit."
    Daren slowly flexed his fingers as Sebastian pinned the bandage in place. "He was always pouring these little sayings into my head, like he was Confucius or something. I think he was trying to counteract my father and grandfather in some way. Fuck. You know what his favorite thing to say to me was?"
    "No."
    " By three things is the world sustained: justice, truth and peace. He'd say that when I got angry or lied or got greedy. I probably heard that four times a week until I was thirteen." Daren stared into some little point of space over Sebastian's shoulder. "This is all his fucking fault. Why couldn't he have just let me be a completely spoiled, amoral brat like all my cousins? He had to go draw a line in my head and not tell me about it."
    "It sounds like he'd be proud of what you were trying to do."
    "He probably disavowed all knowledge of me the first time my face made the tabloids."
    "The world knows you're missing. He might be looking for you."
    "If he were, he would have found me by now. Even here. Didn't matter how much I