Page 24 of Winds of War

CHAPTER 19

“The fever is gone.” Leonard Nixon spoke in a gentle voice, to the great surprise of the guards and male nurses who knew him as the coldest, most arrogant bastard ever born. “Please, continue with the same treatment and send me reports about his state every six hours.” He caressed the damp forehead on the teen curled up on the hospital bed.

The four men nodded in understanding, then the guards and one of the nurses left the room. The remaining nurse approached Leonard, who sat on the edge of the bed, the boy's hand between his own. “Look, Mister Nixon,” he hesitantly started, “If your mother and Professor Valeriani find out about this, you are covered. My colleague and I, on the other hand...”

“Don't worry. No one will find out anything.” Leonard patted the nurse on the shoulder, his voice filled with reassurance. “And even if they do, Doctor Boorman will back you up. I already talked to him. He'll tell the good doctor the boy is my special project, which isn't far from the truth.” Leonard gently caressed the boy's damp hair.

“Very well, sir.” The nurse dipped his head. “You can count on me and my colleague to take good care of the boy,” he added, then headed to the door.

“Thank you very much.” Leonard shook the nurse's hand, giving him a grateful look. Once the other man left the room, he went back to the bed, tenderly running his flat palm over the form of the boy curled under the thick blanket. “Come on, sleeping beauty, it's time to rise and shine; everyone’s gone now, and there's only you and me.”

“Leo, is the baby all right? Please, I want you to tell me the truth,” the teen barely whispered, putting one of his delicate, small hands on his stomach.

“Yes, my love. I saw the ultrasound myself. We are going to have a healthy son who is going to have the best possible life. You have to take all the meds and vitamins Doctor Boorman prescribed you to get back on your feet and regain your strength. We are running out of time. That horrible woman and the twisted-minded fuck who runs this hellish place will be back in two weeks.”

“Is it true what Doctor Boorman told me? That you are going to get me and our baby from here and then come to live with us?” The youth's greenish-blue eyes were shining with hope as his voice became a little livelier.

“Yes, everything is ready. He'll send you to Detroit, to the monastery where he spent his teenage years. The monks from there possess surprisingly advanced medical knowledge, and they will help you give birth to our son. No one will come to look for you there, not for a few months, anyway.” Leonard kissed the boy's forehead, brushing a blond, wavy strand off his eyes. “Now let's do a recap.”

“My name is Arman Bedrossian. I am seventeen. I was born in an Armenian family and raised in the Catholic faith. My mother passed away when I was ten, and my father two years ago. I was the victim of an experiment that resulted in me getting pregnant, but, as a good Catholic, I wanted to keep the baby and raise him,” the boy recited, his eyes on Leonard.

“You did brilliantly, my love,” Leonard leaned over the boy and chastely kissed his pale-pink lips. “When that horrible woman comes back, she'll mess with my head again. I don't know what she gives me or how, and I don't trust anyone at the lab enough, not even Doctor Boorman, to have them run some tests on my blood.”

“I understand.” The boy nodded, sadness invading his eyes. “I won't forget you, Leo, even if you will me. I'll always remember your warmth and all the love you showered me with, your arms wrapped around me, and all the sweet words you whispered in my ear.”

“I'll do my best to remember you, too. One day, I'll find you and our son, and we'll have the best, happiest life. I promise you.”

Leon opened his eyes, casting a disoriented look around him. It took him a while to get used to the darkness in the room, but after a couple of minutes, he recognized the furniture and the other objects. The silhouette cuddled at his side under the blanket, sound asleep with a serene smile on his lips, made Leon sigh in relief.

He was in the bedroom of the house he renovated with his own two hands, sharing the bed with the love of his life, his husband of nine years, Darien, who took him into his heart with both the good and bad. In the rooms across the hall, Elias and Abernathy peacefully slept after working, studying, and hanging out with their friends all day long.

I have a good life, the best possible, Leon said to himself, wondering why after more than ten years since he had the last nightmare about his past, the memories of his former life invaded his sleep again. It must be the stress about this goddamn street war, he thought, pulling Darien closer and enveloping him in a protective hug. The warmth radiating from the younger man made Leon relax and soon he was asleep again.

When he woke up, the man was well-rested and completely refreshed, the dream totally forgotten. He started breakfast and, fifteen minutes later, Darien joined him, looking adorably sleepy. The two of them formed a great team in the kitchen and enjoyed every minute they spent there, cooking for their adoptive sons.

“G'morning, strong man with kind eyes,” Darien purred, putting his head on Leon's chest. “We have to do some serious cooking this morning, you know. I forgot to leave you a note last night. Our sons had guests who slept over.”

“The young wolves will be hungry, then.” Leon smiled, kissing his husband on the top of his head. “More eggs for the omelet, enough for two extra large portions. And more bacon and sausages.”

“Actually, it's two extra-large and a large portion, Evon also crashed here last evening. This kid has become a permanent fixture to the group. They'll soon be known as the inseparable five.” Darien smiled brightly.

“I love this kid,” Leon softly spoke, his eyes becoming kinder and shinier as usual. “From the first time I saw him in The Base's main inner yard, I felt connected to him in a mysterious way.” The man paused a little, then continued in a hesitant, whispered voice. “I dreamed about my past last night. I may have a son, conceived with one of the boys at the lab of horrors. A boy I fell in love with and who loved me back.”

“Wow, that would be wonderful! Your own flesh and blood, a son of your own!” Darien had a dreamy look in his eyes, as he spoke in an enthusiastic voice. “What exactly did you remember about the baby's carrier? His name, appearance, any little detail can be of use. I'll talk to the Special Ones, and we'll try to locate them.”

“Locate who?” Elias stepped into the kitchen, fresh from the sleep, nostrils flaring. “Mmm, it smells divine like everything you guys cook together.” He hugged Darien and Leon, then plopped down on a chair. “So, who are the Special Ones trying to locate?”

“Apparently, my dear husband and your loving father has a biological child, a son, out there somewhere. Unfortunately, the memories he has from that period of his life are very mixed up and blurred because of a toxin his adoptive mother made him ingest for years, and he can't remember a lot.” Darien's eyes were shining with unshed tears, his voice thick.

“Wow, that would be great! Would that make me a younger or an older brother?” Elias hid his emotions under a cute grin, left his seat, and hugged Leon. “I will love him just as much as I love Abernathy and Riley because he's yours.”

“Thank you, so much.” Leon kissed the boy on his forehead. “You are the best son a father could wish for, and the best, most affectionate older brother.” The man fell silent for a while, then continued in a low voice. “I would like to keep the whole thing secret for now. Except the two of you, I'll only talk to Ardan about it.”

“Yes, that's for the best,” Darien approved with a nod. “I'll talk to the Special Ones today, first thing after I meet them. We have to do some digging, see how the kid's other father is treating him, if your son knows the truth about how he was conceived, and a million other things. Only after we have as much information as possible can we decide which is the best approach.”

“Hey, 'Lias, sorry, big bro, but you big guys lost again,” Abernathy said between pants as he came running into the kitchen, closely followed by Tarrin and Evon. “The small ones for the win.” He pumped his fist up in a triumphant gesture.

“Man, you can't win against the small things there.” Ira stepped inside the kitchen, shaking his head. “And now there is this tiny one, too; their most trusted ally.” The boy gave Evon a bright smile, ruffling his hair with brotherly affection.

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