to vomit.
“Good.” I forced a tight smile.
“Why…are you taking care of me?” His eyes followed my every movement, still sharp as a falcon’s despite the weakness in his body.
“You know why.” I dug out my stethoscope and wiped the ends with alcohol.
“Tell me.” His gaze rested on my face as I placed the dial over the dark tattoo on his chest. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Stop talking and just breathe normally, please.” His heart was beating rapidly, way too fast for a resting heartbeat. But his lungs sounded clear, which was a positive sign. “I’m taking care of you because of this.” I pressed a finger to the grinning skull on his chest, the tattoo we shared, that he put on me with his own hands. “We both have a duty to the SDMC. Yours is to be an assassin. Mine is to be a medic.”
I put the towel aside and scooted closer to him, my hip nudging against the outside of his thigh. He didn’t move away like I expected, maybe out of weakness, or maybe the fear of touching me really was gone.
“But you’re also my friend.” My hand closed around his. “And I don’t like seeing you unwell. I’m taking care of you because I want my Shadow back.”
I didn’t intend for the possessiveness to slip out, but didn’t panic when it did. A calm settled over me instead. This man and I shared something unique, we had all but said it to each other in those exact words. Still, this was the first time I dared to speak aloud, claiming him as mine. In saying it, I realized I was ready to. This time, I wouldn’t worry about being unfair to Reaper, Jandro and Gun. I knew what I wanted, and what I was able to give.
If Shadow realized the implication of what I was saying, his sickness didn’t allow for him to dwell on the thought. He hugged himself, broad arms wrapping around his chest. “C-can’t stop…shivering. I feel like…like I’m falling in and out of sleep.”
“Lay down and rest.” I got up from his side, moving toward the far end of the bed. What was between us didn’t matter right now, anyway. He needed to get better first. “I can’t give you a blanket, I’m sorry. You’re already too hot. We need your temperature to come down.”
He scooted down from the headboard and didn’t object when I started unlacing his boots. I pulled them off his feet and placed them next to the door. Returning to his side, my eyes lingered on the silver button at the front of his jeans.
“Shadow? Are you okay with me taking your pants off for bed?”
He didn’t answer right away, and I thought he’d fallen asleep. Then the weakly whispered, “Yes,” floating up to me made my heart pound.
I unsnapped the button and pulled down his zipper, working to be as clinical as possible as I pulled the denim down his muscular thighs. I jerked my gaze away from the deep V-lines in his hips, the snug, black boxers outlining a thick bulge. He’s sick. He’s my patient right now, I reminded myself.
Something else caught my eye and I found myself looking out of sheer curiosity. A tattoo was on his upper right thigh, the ink blurred by scar tissue and faded to a bluish gray color. It was a band of symbols, small pictographs of some kind, stretching about five inches across and no more than an inch tall.
He never mentioned having other tattoos, although I didn’t really ask. I did recall him saying that the scar tissue made it difficult for ink to keep over time. Why did those symbols look so familiar, though?
I kept thinking about it as I tidied up the room. Grudge came back a half hour later with more food and some books. Shadow tossed fitfully in and out of sleep. I kept sponging cool towels over him, and finally relented when he asked to cover himself with a sheet.
His fever kept bouncing between 101 and 103. I kept going through his symptoms in my head, looking at his back wounds, and re-reading the labels on the antibiotic bottles. His symptoms were generic enough that it could literally be any kind of bacteria, but the medicine would only work on certain strains. To give him the wrong one could mean bad side effects and wasted time as his infection worsened.
I explained all this to Grudge, who listened with attentive, curious