Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

doctor if I'm honestly afraid you are going to die."
    Daren nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I heard the sirens, and I could hear the radio on the cop car, and…"
    "I know. It's okay." He reached out a hand. "Let's get you back into bed and patched up. I think we'll skip physical therapy for the day."
    Daren made it up to one foot but his left knee promptly gave out and his right thigh started bleeding afresh. Sebastian scooped Daren off his feet and could feel his body shaking and muscles twitching. Mixed in with the annoyance of the whole thing, he was impressed that Daren had made it all the way to the kitchen. There was something to be said for fear as a motivator.
    Sebastian placed Daren on the bed, pulled on some gloves, and set about stemming the steady trickle of bright red blood from Daren's body. He'd already lost enough to cover a lifetime. He really didn't need to lose any more.
    "You need to stop pulling this one open. You're going to have a bitch of a scar as it is." Daren didn't answer, just stared at Sebastian's gloved hands as he layered on fresh tape and wound closures. "This happens again and I'm just putting super glue in there."
    Daren let out a breath that at another time might have been a laugh.
    Sebastian finished up and pulled off the gloves. "Lie down and rest a bit while I clean up." Daren didn't close his eyes; he just held the blanket under his chin and watched Sebastian leave.
    ****
    As Sebastian scrubbed at the carpet, he gave another quiet thank you to the Navy. Learning how to get bloodstains out of dress whites made getting blood out of grayish utilitarian carpet a breeze. He still took his time with it, giving Daren some space— and giving himself some space as well. Something was going to need to change soon.
    His neighborhood wasn't precisely the best. It wouldn't take much to shove them into the public eye: someone breaking in and the cops showing up; the next-door neighbor's place catching on fire; a bill collector showing up because a former resident forgot to pay off a credit card; even the landlord showing up for an inspection. It had never happened before, but Sebastian wasn't up for trusting his luck.
    Daren needed to be mobile and less recognizable. He flung the scrub brush into the sink and went to check on Daren. He was still awake and looking a bit pasty.
    "How are you feeling?"
    "Hurt. A little cold." Daren's voice was barely above a whisper. Sebastian grabbed his kit and did his health checks.
    "Temperature a little up and blood pressure a little low. Probably the stress and shock to your system. I'll go grab you some Tylenol."
    Daren's hand darted out and caught the edge of his sleeve. "Why?"
    "Because you're running a fever."
    "No. Why didn't you call the cops?"
    "Because you begged me not to."
    "I don't let you sleep. I saw the envelopes on your table. I'm making you poor. I'm a fucking cripple lying in your bed."
    Sebastian had been asking himself almost the same damn thing every day. He'd given himself a dozen answers, most of them some flavor of "it's the right thing to do."
    "Because I like to believe that I'm a decent human being. Because I don't want to live with the guilt if something did happen to you that I could have prevented. Because I've got a stupid name too, and it got me beat up a lot as a kid, but I can't change mine because it's all I have left of my mother. Because my original plan that night had been to stay in and watch the West Wing marathon, but I convinced myself that at my age it was sad and pathetic, and I told myself that I would go down to the Blue Dragon and find someone and bring them home and just go with whatever happened. And look at that, I found someone at the Blue Dragon and brought him home."
    Daren made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob.
    "Does the why really matter at this point? I'm here; you're here. This is life."
    Daren dropped Sebastian's sleeve and turned away. "Maybe I should get some rest."
    "Yeah, that might be a good idea."
    ****

CHAPTER 5
    The next morning Daren was quiet again, but his mood seemed less black, more just tired. He went through meals and a shower with hardly a word. When Sebastian slid the business end of the stethoscope along his back he closed his eyes and moved his lips the tiniest amount, almost as if he were praying. During physical therapy, Daren stared at the ceiling and allowed Sebastian to manhandle his body past the point where he should have been crying out in pain. Instead,