Four

Zephyros

A testament to our efforts to get any sort of information from the medical staff, the relief in the blonde nurse's face is noticeable when she steps back into the waiting room. "Your girl is awake," she announces cheerfully. "She's ready to see you. Come with me."

Ignoring the rush of something in my chest hearing Wynnie referred to as my girl, I rush to follow. The fact that Brock and Sully seem just as anxious to check on Wynne doesn't escape my notice, and I mostly chalk it up to their guilt in the role we all might have played in her getting hurt. A small part of me, one I don't want to explore, wonders if their trepidation is a sign of something else, something that makes me feel an emotion remarkably close to jealousy.

"She's just been given more pain medication, so she may be a little groggy," the nurse explains. "Otherwise, she is fine. There were no major structural, muscular, or arterial issues we needed to repair, and the bullet came out cleanly. She will need to stay here overnight for observation, but she should be able to go home tomorrow. Will there be anyone at home to help her with her normal tasks for a few weeks while she heals?" The nurse stops in front of a closed room and looks at each of us expectantly.

"She has a roommate, but I'm not sure how much help she will be," I offer. "Her parents are out of state."

"Well, that won't do," the nurse states plainly. "She will need help dressing, bathing, lifting anything heavier than a coffee mug, and taking care of any chores she may need done."

"She can stay at our flat," Brock proposes, causing Sully's jaw to hit the floor.

"No, no, no," Sully interjects. "We agreed a long time ago, no women in the house. It cramps our style and distracts us all."

"This isn't any woman, Sully. It's our Wynnie girl. She's basically one o' us," Brock insists. "I mean, sure, she has a nice set o' tits on her, but she'd be more likely to wing-man for us than cock-block."

"Noticed those tits, eh?" Sully quips. "And you think you won't let them distract you if you're having to help bathe and dress them?"

"Neither of you will be taking on those responsibilities. Her father would see you dead and buried, back on Irish soil before that ever happens. I'll see to her care," I order. "Besides, staying with us is the only way we can guarantee her safety for the near future. That's literally my job right now, in case the two of you have forgotten." A task I have already failed once, although I keep that part to myself. I can wait until I am alone to let it eat at me the way I deserve.

"It's settled then," the nurse, Shannon, according to her name tag, says, clapping her hands once as she turns to open the door. "Miss Greenwood, you have visitors," she announces, standing sideways with her arm out to direct us all inside the small, sterile room.

"Hey there, Wynne." I'd claim the seat directly next to the bed for myself taking her hand in mine. "We wanted to be here when you woke up, but the nurses threatened to kick us out if we didn't follow their stupid rules."

"She told me you guys were driving everyone mad," Wynne smiles sleepily, obviously feeling the effects of the pain medication. "She thinks you guys are my secret harem and I'm your sex goddess." Her cheeks flush, and she giggles when Sully chokes on his own breath hearing that tidbit. "Could you imagine, all four of us as a couple? I'd die from heat death." The groan escaping her seems to vibrate right to my groin, and I shift on the vinyl cushion to adjust from the slight tightness developing in my pants.

"Tell us how you really feel, Wynnie girl," Brock teases. "I love how the drugs have finally loosened your tongue. Zephyr over here told us how you said we were all, what was it? 'Too pretty to die?' when you were in the ambulance."

Her blush grows even deeper, the dusky pink color a stark contrast to her normally pale skin, as her tawny freckles shadow into mahogany.  "You all know you're gorgeous," she admits, turning her emerald eyes down to the cover folded down over her lap. "You don't need me to tell you."

"Brock reckons you've got nice tits," Sully volunteers, throwing our friend under the bus for the sake of Wynnie's pride. "He told us so when the nurse made us realize you'd have to come stay with us for a bit, yeah?" I hadn't planned to break the news to her quite so casually and cast a glare at Sully when Wynne's head snaps up, a shocked look causing the previous blush to blanch to white.

"I can't stay with you guys," she argues. "My father would have my head. He barely let me leave the dorms to rent with Vanity until I threatened to tell mom about him smoking in the garage when she's not around."

"I've already talked to your dad today," I explain "He is sorry he and your mom can't make it out right now. He said he'll call you tomorrow when he knows you've rested enough to speak with him. He just wants you safe, and he knows I will take care of you, and that Vanity's more likely to let you die from sepsis than even attempt to try to help you bathe." I leave her no room for argument. While her father has not explicitly permitted me to change her living arrangements, he has directed me to ensure her recovery and future safety at all costs. This is the only way I can foresee keeping her safe, not just from her father's enemies, but the ones my friends and I have begun to make.

"Maybe it's the drugs, but I could swear you just said my dad was okay with me shacking up with three guys," Wynne questions.

"It's not 'shacking up,' Ladybug," I insist, using the nickname I gave her as kids to soften her up. "It's using our guest room as a temporary medical ward so that you can get back to acting, dancing, and photographing all of Seattle's infinite rainstorms," I explain. "Just let me take care of you, like you always take care of me."

Stroking her hand gently, I let her consider her options for herself. Her eyes start to drift closed in the quiet, the drugs winning the battle for her consciousness. Just as she slips away into sleep, she gently squeezes my fingers, her breathily whispered "Okay, Zeph," letting me know I've won this battle.