of a kind of pain that felt familiar, too.
What if he’d hurt him? What had Colt done to trigger such an intense reaction? Had he really been that oblivious to whatever signs there must have been that his rapture was mirrored only in distress?
The troubling questions rattled around inside him as he stared at Ronnie, who presently seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible, huddled against the headboard.
“Ronnie,” Colt breathed, his voice raw with concern as he studied him closer, searching for any sign of injury he’d so obviously missed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you,” Ronnie said with a grimace, hugging himself. “You didn’t do anything.”
He was trembling. Had he always been?
Fuck. Colt reached for a blanket on the end of the bed and draped it around Ronnie’s shoulders.
“Then what is it?” Colt pressed, desperate to fix whatever the hell was wrong. “What happened?”
The shift from bliss to terror had been so sudden, he hadn’t even had time to process what all this meant. At the moment, it had all taken a backseat to whatever was happening inside Ronnie’s head. Colt could feel Ronnie’s walls going up again, shutting him and all the rest of the world out like he always did. Colt knew that now. It was just the first time he had been focused enough to see it rather than being off in his own reality.
At least, that was what he’d thought. Now he wasn’t sure of anything beyond his own name, and even in that, he had his doubts.
“Nothing,” Ronnie repeated, his voice as frail and broken as it had been when Colt had found him on the pier. He also seemed as dissociated as he had been then, like he wasn’t fully present in the room. Or his body, for that matter. It scared the hell out of Colt, because the one thing he couldn’t protect Ronnie from was whatever was going on inside him.
“Ronnie,” Colt pleaded, resting his hands gently on his shoulders. He hesitated, making sure that touch wasn’t going to trigger another reaction before he moved closer. “Please, just talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”
Ronnie’s eyes met his, still wide and feral, and Colt could see a war going on behind them. A war it was clear Ronnie had been fighting alone for some time now.
He finally hung his head in shame, holding himself even tighter. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m… are you okay?” he asked, his gaze flickering back up to Colt’s, studying him nervously.
“Me?” Colt frowned. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ronnie swallowed audibly. He seemed hesitant again, like he wasn’t sure enough of what he was thinking to say it out loud. “It happened again,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
“What happened?” Colt asked, trying desperately to understand.
“The shadow.” Ronnie spoke the words in the same grave tone as he’d had at the pier. Colt had assumed it was just the nonsensical ramblings of shock back then, but now…
“You said something about that earlier,” Colt murmured. “What shadow?”
“It’s what Vaughn used on you and Peter.” He seemed a bit more stable now, but he still wasn’t looking at Colt. “You can’t see it. I couldn’t see it then, either.”
Colt was slowly beginning to piece it together. The strange, erratic behavior. The claims that he was afraid to hurt Colt and his family. The body in the woods.
“You do have it,” he realized aloud. “The Plague Doctor’s power.”
Ronnie’s silence was enough of an affirmation.
“How long?” Colt asked, growing somber. Suspecting and knowing were too different things, and now he had even more to feel guilt over. Especially knowing Ronnie was only in this mess because Colt had dragged him into it.
“Before I left, I think.” He shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know. The other night is the only time I can actually remember using it, but I kept waking up outside. Having these weird dreams that didn’t belong to me.”
“And that’s why you left?”
Ronnie hesitated. “That’s part of it. I didn’t know what to do, and I knew it would hurt the people I love eventually. I was right.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” Colt said, making an effort to gentle his voice. For all his talk, Colt was starting to realize Ronnie was more fragile than he had ever imagined. Something else for him to break.
“I would have,” Ronnie protested, his voice sharp with fear. “It comes out when I feel threatened. It takes over, and I can’t always control it. I just didn’t