Page 209 of Nothing More

“Traitor,” he translated. “Liar.”

Raven started to say something, but hesitated. Watched him ghost his blunt nails down the outside of one thigh; watched his gaze trace the letters over and over.

“Traitor,” he repeated. “Liar.”

Slowly, carefully, she laid her hand on an unmarked place on his knee. “Toly,” she said, seriously, “you’re not that. You’ve never been that.”

His lips clamped tight, and he shook his head.

She shifted closer, so she sat at his hip, so she could rake his hair back with her nails and see his face more clearly. He didn’t flinch this time; she didn’t think he even saw or felt her, his gaze far away, his eyes going glassy.

“No, listen,” she insisted. “Life dealt you a shit hand, and you did the best you could with it. You survived. You found a place for yourself. You landed among people who love you, and want you to be safe and happy.”

He made a low, wounded sound. His eyes filled with tears. “But Iama traitor. And a liar. I lied to you, and Mav, and – and everyone. I…”

“Sweetheart, no.”

Tears spilled over his lashes and coursed unheeded down his cheeks. He sniffed hard, and said, “I’m a traitor. To everyone. I’m a traitor, a lying traitor, a–” A sob caught in his throat, the choked-back wail of a wounded animal. He folded forward at the waist – or he tried to. Raven finally caught him up like she’d wanted to from the start; pulled him to her and urged his head down onto her shoulder.

He stiffened, just a moment, but then he melted. Hugged her hard, and stopped trying to stifle himself, crying quiet and heartbroken into the side of her neck. All the poison, all the adrenaline, all the worry and heartbreak boiled over and leaked out of him, hot tears soaking her collar, hands clutching her jumper so tight she thought threads might snap.

Raven held him through it, stroked his greasy hair, and told him over and over that he was safe, and he was loved, and hoped that maybe one day he could allow himself to believe that.

~*~

They made him stay in bed the rest of the day, though he argued against it. Plied him with soup, and tea, and so much water that he had to get out of bed to make two dozen trips down the hall to piss. His feet stung where they’d been sliced – stung terribly – but he could hobble along feebly on his heels like an eighty-year-old, so that was something. Was able, with Raven’s help, to stand in the shower and wash the grime off himself with the detachable nozzle. Wash his hair. It shamed him to need help bathing…but it was a shame that couldn’t quite penetrate. He felt washed-out. Not clean, exactly, but hollowed; scraped empty.

Cassandra came to visit him, smiling shyly and bearing a tin of Christmas chocolates that no one would let him eat.

Shep changed his dressings out, after his shower, gruff and crude, but shockingly competent.

When Tenny and Reese came up – a unit, as usual; he wondered if one could take a leak without the other – Tenny was all grins and sneers and bragging on himself. “Just wanted to make sure Nurse Ratched hadn’t smothered you with a pillow.” And then Reese said, “He means: how do you feel?” Smack, typicalyou titinsult.

“They care,” Raven said, when they were gone.

“Yeah.” He knew.

He wanted her to rest, but she kept insisting she was fine.

Around six that night, after the sun had gone down, while Raven kept yawning her way through a book she was pretending to read, Fox came in. He looked at Toly, then looked at Raven.

“Go lie down,” he ordered.

She bristled. “I’ll–”

“Take a walk, then. I want a word.”

She glared at him, and muttered under her breath, but unfolded herself from the chair – she was sore, he could tell, holding herself gingerly – and left. “I’ll be right back,” she promised over her shoulder.

Fox shook his head when she was gone, then dragged her chair over close to the bed and sat. Fixed Toly with a cold, assessing look that made Toly feel like an unruly child; he wanted to pull the blankets up over his head.

Fox said, “You good?”

Toly thought of lying. Said, “Not really.”

Fox nodded. “Yeah. You won’t be for a while. Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

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