The Gray Man [sixxreader]

~Chapter Three~

After he expertly secured the bandage to your ankle, Sierra Six carried you to bed. For the second time.

You were exhausted, and made no noise of complaint as he picked you up, knowing you could have walked there on your own.

You sigh contently as he placed you gently on your bed, taking the wet towel back to the bathroom to hang it up.

Waiting for him to come back out, you wrapped yourself up in the duvet.

Once his silhouette darkened the doorway of the bathroom, you noticed he hesitated to come near you. 

"Somethin' wrong?" you muttered, drowsiness apparent in your voice. 

"No." His reply was short. Sticky. 

Your eyes were feeling heavy, and you decided you'd press on the subject in the morning. This had been quite an eventful day. 

I hope I'm not sore in the morning, you thought as you drifted to sleep. 

Not realizing you expected him to sleep at night, let alone sleep in the same bed as you, waking up in the morning to an empty room and absolutely no evidence that the previous night had happened was a bit of a shock. It was like someone had cleaned the entire room, even going as far to fold your discarded clothes and place them neatly on your dresser. 

You groaned and stretched like a cat, the pain meds you had taken obviously worn off as your ankle throbbed at the movement.

Carefully, you got out of bed and limped your way over to your closet, getting dressed for the day. 

Limping your way to the bathroom, you completed your morning routine as usual. Although, you had the glorious addition of scrubbing blood from under your fingernails. 

You'd have to apologize for that at breakfast. 

Making your way to the kitchen, you saw that your adoptive uncle had arrived back from his trip. 

"Donald!" you quickly embraced him in a hug.

"Hey sweetie, how are you?" He looked tired, like he hadn't slept the entire time he was gone. 

"I'm okay, I dislocated by ankle last night though," you laughed.

"What? What happened?"

"Well-" you halted your sentence as Claire bounced into the room.

"You're back!" She ran and jumped into his arms, and he spun in a small circle. 

"Do you want some pancakes, Claire?"

She nodded, her day having been made by Donald's return. 

You readied yourself in the kitchen, and got out five plates for your current makeshift family. 

After making the food, you set the table and placed what was needed in the centre.

"Five plates?" Donald inquired. 

"Yeah, me, you, Claire, her nurse, and Six," you counted again, making sure you had the right number.

"Oh, Six left last night when I got back," he informed you. 

Something in your chest felt heavy. "Oh."

It felt wrong putting the plate back.

Still, you kept a happy facade and let the surprise of Donald coming home lighten your day.

Whenever he left on business, you never knew when he was coming home. If he was, even. To be fair, you didn't think he ever knew the same things. 

After a while, Claire went to her bedroom and her nurse went out to visit family. "So," Donald started, "your ankle?"