What Dreams May Come

Chapter 28: dirt and grime for all

"Dylan will be fine," Shelley pronounced with satisfaction, after peering at my stitches for a long time. "Provided she gets adequate rest for the rest of the week."

"Merci, Shelley," Levi said with a smile.

"I'll pack you a couple extra gauze pads in case you need them," Shelley told him. "Now, hop up, let's take a look at you."

At Levi? He groaned when Shelley patted the bed next to me, but he sat on the edge of it.

"Pull off your shirt; it's nothing Dylan hasn't seen before."

I giggled when he pulled the shirt over his head, but my smile faded when I saw how many cuts and bruises he had along his torso. He hadn't mentioned at all that he was injured, and I frowned at how cut up he was.

"You need to be a bit more careful with your shoulder," Shelley admonished, inspecting each patch of gauze. "You've been bleeding through the stitches."

"I will," Levi promised and pulled his shirt back over his head. He noticed me frowning at him. "What?"

"You didn't say that you got hurt," I told him.

"We were in a room that exploded; I didn't walk away unscathed," he pointed out. "And nothing is broken; mostly it's superficial."

"Except your shoulder," Shelley chimed in.

"Except my shoulder," he grumbled and hopped off the bed. He helped me down to my feet and we walked back through the halls.

The lights flickered and I froze in the hall, looking up. After a moment, the orange faded and returned to the normal blue white color.

"Does that mean it's better?" he asked.

"I hope it means we're out of danger," I replied. "Or my papa was tired of reminding the whole base that the scrubbers are offline."

"Gah!"

We turned to see Alcott storm out of a doorway, a cloud of dust following her. Her hair had bits of debris littered in it and she shook her braids, muttering as she did so.

"Did you quit botany and join the janitorial staff?" I teased.

"Still in botany," she grumbled. "They needed help rerouting the ducts from our greenhouses to processing and Anatoly didn't want them climbing over our baby trees like 'great galumphing oafs'. Ducts are disgusting."

"Terribly sorry," Levi said, though holding back a smile.

"This will be you," she gestured to her general disheveled appearance. "Come next crisis, all this grime can too be yours."

"I can't wait," he laughed.

"Alcott!"

She groaned and stomped back inside.

We were back on our couch before I could protest that I was perfectly capable to help my papa with the paperwork needing done. Levi was having none of my protests, and after this morning; I was tired of fighting him. My ribs were sore and my side bruised and tender. I leaned on his good shoulder and he absently ran his fingers through my curls.

Despite the madness beyond our berth, this was very calming.

"I should fill out my application." Levi reached for the paper we had procured from Alcott. He glanced over the form and then looked about for something to write with.

"There's a pen on the counter," I told him.

He tried to reach it without getting up, but in the end had to move to grab it, resettling once he had pen in hand. Levi was using one of his books as a hard surface, and the only thing heard in the room was the pen's soft scratch on paper.

I heard a chirp from the coffee table; someone was calling me. I shifted forward to reach it, but Levi grabbed it for me with a smile.

"Hello?"

"Dylan! How are you feeling?" my madre asked.

"Fine, Madre. Shelley said I would be just fine."

"Good."

I could hear the relief in her voice. Levi waggled an eyebrow at me; he wasn't the only one who was worried about me. I made a face right back at him.

"Are we still having dinner there?" I asked. "Should we bring anything?"

"We are definitely on for dinner; Walsh might be late or not there at all, the oxygen has everyone so worried."

"Then maybe we should cancel, if Papa needs help..."

"You must have a concussion to think that Levi and I will let you go off to work, and so we wouldn't let you anyway. I'm glad someone is looking out for you, my moonshy daughter."

"Madre," I complained.

"Anyway. I'll be ready for the two of you in two hours? Does that work?"

I glanced at the time on my holo-rib. I had no idea it was so late.

"That works for us," Levi called from his position on the couch. "Merci, Taylor."

My madre laughed. "See you then."

She disconnected the call and I set my holo-rib down. Levi had nearly finished his application, and he handed it to me to peruse. Levi's handwriting was clean and neat, even though he had written quickly. My handwriting was embarrassing in comparison, but I hardly wrote anything nowadays.

"Looks good," I said, handing it back. "It's just a formality; Anatoly will take you if you want the job."

"I'll still apply to research if you want," he offered.

"Levi," I complained. "Do what you want to do, you'll be doing it forever."

"I don't think there is a job where I just read books aloud to you," he laughed. "I'd rather be doing that." He put an arm around my shoulders and grinned. "It's a good thing I think it's cute when you blush; you do it a lot."

"You're awful," I told him.

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Dylan isn't good about resting, is she? I share her sentiments, I will admit. I'm the worst patient. Thanks for reading!