Pandora: Liminal Space Book 2

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The next time Garrett woke up, he was just as disconcerted as the time before. Only this time he was lying on his side, curled against a tall, lean body on a firm bed, covered with a sheet. It felt like a dream. It felt like a beautiful, excellent, latently lascivious dream, and he felt warm and happy and content, and so rather than open his eyes he snuggled further into his bedmate's side and reached a questing hand beneath the sheet.

A low chuckle interrupted him. "Don't think you're quite awake enough for that, darlin'."

Oh. Oh. Holy shit, it wasn't a dream, Garrett never got turned down in his dreams. That either made this a nightmare or...he tried to open his eyes and couldn't. No, still a nightmare, just a waking one. Although the fringe benefits of his current situation were pretty damn pleasant.

Recent memories crept back into his mind. They'd left the infirmary and gone to Garrett's apartment just long enough to grab his toiletries and clothes and, after a moment's pause, his journal. Garrett had never even gotten out of the wheelchair, although he figured he could find his way inside of his own place easily enough. He'd heard voices in the halls, murmurs, quiet exchanges of question and answer, and it bothered him more than he could say. Garrett liked to be in control of his surroundings. If something or someone rubbed him the wrong way he changed it, either by manipulating it or modifying his own actions. Now there was nothing he could do, no way to change himself to diminish the attention because he tacitly wasn't in control of himself. He had to rely on Jonah, Cody, Rickie and Jezria, and he both wanted their care and despised himself for wanting it.

Jezria had been very approving of the plan for him to stay with Jonah, even giving the pilot a week off from work to help care for Garrett. She came to meet them at his apartment, and together she and Jonah picked out clothes they knew Garrett liked, things they knew he needed and asked him enough questions to distract Garrett from himself. Cody had ridden along on Garrett's lap, begging the whole time to go faster, faster, and Garrett had been relieved when Jonah firmly said no.

Rickie then met them at Jonah's apartment and talked at length about the importance of counting steps, of keeping clothes and toys off of the floor (which was met with a brief flurry of activity) and especially of being patient all around.

"I'll keep monitoring your brain chemistry," she added quietly to Garrett at the end of her visit. "But if you start to feel depressed—really depressed, Doctor Caractacus, not just out of sorts or unhappy or impatient—let me know immediately, and keep talking to Jonah, okay? He wants to help you."

"I know," Garrett had replied. The doctor squeezed his shoulder briefly and then departed, letting him know that she'd be back tomorrow to give him another shot for the pain. Shortly afterwards Jezria left as well, and the brief rush of adrenaline that had come as he learned the new walkways of his temporary home had deserted him. Just then Garrett had wanted nothing more than to lie down.

Jonah must have read it in his face, because he called a friend to come over and take care of Cody for a while, then took Garrett back into his bedroom. He'd helped him get out of the scrubs, into a soft pair of sleep pants and led him to the bed, then lay down beside him. One of his arms went around Garrett's shoulders, and his mouth pressed a gentle kiss to Garrett's forehead, then his lips.

"This isn't how I pictured my first time in your bed," Garrett said ruefully, not quite managing the teasing tone he was going for.

"Me neither," Jonah agreed. "But I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." He was warm and comfortable and so tired, and after a few minutes Garrett had fallen into a deep, unmoving sleep.

Now he was awake and plastered to Jonah's side, and after a moment's consideration Garrett decided he was completely okay with that, and if Jonah's possessive embrace was anything to go by, so was he.

"How d'you feel?" Jonah asked.

"All right," Garrett said cautiously. "Not in any pain, at least."

"That's good."

"Do you really have the week off, or did I just dream that?"

"Nope." Jonah's voice was smug with satisfaction. "I've got the time approved and everything. It's good, this way I won't be worryin' about you all day long. Cody's still got school all this next week, so maybe he won't tire you out too much."

"He won't."

"I hope not," Jonah said. "You've been down for about ten hours. Care for something to eat?"

Garrett wrinkled his brow. "What time is it?"

"Eight in the mornin'. Cody's already at class."

"Huh. I must have been tired."

"You've got reason to be." Jonah's hand stroked along the side of Garrett's face. The suddenness of it made him jerk back, and the hand withdrew. "Sorry, I wasn't thinkin'."

"It's okay." Garrett fumbled until he found his lover's retracted hand and pulled it back to his face. "I don't want you to be afraid to touch me. I like it when you touch me." It grounds me, it comforts me, it makes me feel...I don't even know, but I don't want you to stop.

"You sure?"

"Positive. You can touch whenever you want. Other people, not so much," Garrett amended, because he really didn't want to deal with grabby hands and overly-helpful tugs on his arms.

"Got it." Jonah's thumb smoothed over Garrett's cheekbone and down the shell of his ear before he drew his hand back a second time. "You want breakfast?"

His stomach rumbled uncomfortably. "Yes, but I need to use the bathroom and get changed first."

"You remember how to find it?"

Garrett wracked his brain for a moment. "Ten feet to the left of the bed, the door is beside the dresser so I should mind the corners?"

"Good memory."

"I do try."

"I'll put some clothes out on the bed for you if you want. Casual?"

"Semi-casual," Garrett said. "I have the feeling I'm going to be getting a lot of visitors today, and I want to look like I'm taking them seriously."

"You're right about the visitors," Jonah agreed. "I've already turned away three people, told them I'd let them know when you were feelin' up to guests."

"After breakfast."

"What would you like to eat?"

"Cereal," Garrett said after a moment. "Not that I don't love your pancakes but I don't want to spend half the morning fumbling with a fork and trying to hunt down bits of food. Cereal I can do without too much mess."

"Whatever you want." Jonah brushed his lips lightly over Garrett's, then got out of bed. "Your stuff's on the right hand side of the sink."

"Thank you."

Getting out of bed was easy. Walking to the bathroom without feeling like a moron with his arms stretched out like that? Not so easy. Remembering where all of the fixtures were was even harder, and Garrett was incredibly grateful that no one was around to watch him stumble against the edge of the sink, or grope around for his sonic cleanser. He finally accomplished everything he needed to, but it took ten minutes longer than usual even though he had no hair to style and no makeup to apply.

"First order of business," Garrett told himself, resolutely looking forward towards the mirror he knew was there even though he couldn't see it. "Hair." Short enough he didn't need to style it was fine, but going without completely made him feel like he was back in the mental institution again, with doctors trying, and only partially succeeding, to remedy his condition with invasive brain surgery. Garrett was never sure how much of his gray matter had been replaced during that operation, but he did know that his temperament was markedly different once he recovered. He still had the mood swings, absolutely, and he was continually monitored, but a fundamental part of himself had been changed.