Broken Doll {ManxMan}

CHAPTER 13

I never actually imagined myself ever getting married, and certainly not to a man who used to run an illegal Austrian cartel back when the world was still spinning and society was thriving. This man literally used to live under the law and caused problems for them, selling weapons to rebellions in Africa and the Middle East just to fuck with American "liberators" and screw up their endeavors to siphon oil from the earth.

God knows what my mother would say about this. It was a funny thing to imagine, coming home with Tobias on my arm to introduce him to my parents and gain their approval to marry him. Obviously, I couldn't exactly do that now, but it was still a fun fantasy to imagine, especially wondering what my mother's reaction would be.

She was the only one I cared about after all. I hoped that wherever she was now, she was happy with Tobias, and that she would approve of him. He was keeping me alive, after all, letting me love him and loving me back so entirely. That pure and simple affection was the most I could ever ask for in a relationship like this, especially when I took into consideration that I never had any plans of falling in love in the first place.

In some weird, screwed up, twisted way, I felt I owed Bay my thanks. If it weren't for him starting this war, founding the new government, and sending me to Austria all those years ago, I never would have met Tobias, never would have fallen in love like I had. I never would be able to feel safe and free away from those psychos who broke the world.

When Tobias and I decided to ask Kailas to officiate our impromptu wedding, I had wanted it done immediately, that day, but my body had other plans. I was still healing after all, I could only be awake for so long before my exhaustion overwhelmed me and I passed out without the aid of Arthur's medication.

I already knew that Tobias worried sick about how weak I was because of my still healing wounds, he made it rather obvious from how gently he was treating me. Which he normally did anyway, but now it was even more obvious. When I woke up next, my low energy and obvious weakness was exactly what my fiancé was discussing with Arthur.

He was sitting in the chair to the left of my cot, leaning over the edge of the bed with both of his hands clamped around mine, holding it up and pressing his lips to my fingers as he kept his eyes closed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against whatever skin he could touch.

"It's completely normal, Tobias, there's nothing to worry about," Arthur was saying from my other side, "Sleep is good for him. He's going to be weak for a while yet. Even when his body is healed he'll still need to be careful. He was badly damaged, physically, mentally, and emotionally, so it will take a long time until he's one hundred percent. Even then, I can't guarantee he will be one hundred percent," there was a pause, then the sound of Arthur hesitating before slowly continuing, his voice gentle, "Also... keep in mind he was sexually assaulted as well. That kind of thing can really screw you up. It will just add to the time his healing will take."

"I know," Tobias assured just as quietly, pulling my hand away from his lips so he could press his forehead against my knuckles instead, repeating, "I know. All I care about is that he'll be okay."

"He will be, I'm certain of it," Arthur sounded confident, "He's out of danger now. I was still worried when he was catatonic, but coming out of that has been so good for him. He's eating on his own now, so I took out the feeding tube, and he can start walking in a few days, as long as he's careful. I'll remove the catheter within the next week. Waking from his catatonia has essentially quickened his physical healing," he laughed a little, "Having you here with him has given him a much stronger will to live."

Tobias smiled weakly, holding my hand against his cheek and kissing the start of the scar on my wrist, "I'm glad."

"Actually," Arthur started, appearing interested by something, "I was curious about that scar on his arm. It doesn't appear to be the aftermath of a fight or from a defensive wound. It seems... self-inflicted..."