Page 162 of The Menagerie

The compliment doesn’t sit well with Mal, who turns to unsuccessfully hide his blush from Rowan, dropping the now leafless stem to the ground.

“Yeah, well….”

“I mean it.”

Mal laughs gently, the sweet sound nearly swallowed by the wind. “I know you do, Red.”

The nickname jars him a bit after last night. After hearing Mal whimper the word with tears streaking down his cheeks. But more than anything, he finds it comforting that Mal still has it in him to use it in a positive way. In a way just for Rowan.

They sit on the swings until the sun is overhead, Mal occasionally going for bursts of swinging while Rowan can’t quite muster the energy to do more than rock one way or another. All the while, they make small talk. It feels a lot like in the beginning, the two of them avoiding talking about any particularly heavy subject in favor of people-watching and idle chitchat about music and TV shows.

It’s nice, and Rowan doesn’t exactly want it to end. But a family of a mother and three kids shows up to the playground, the kids making a beeline for the swings, only to be disappointed to find them occupied by two adults. Rowan takes it as their cue to leave.

“You ready to head back?” Rowan asks, slipping off the swing.

“Yeah. You got somewhere to be, or you wanna get somethin’ to eat first?”

Rowan grins. “I could eat.”

IT ISN’Tuntil he’s finally back home late that afternoon that Rowan realizes he hadn’t taken his evening pills last night or his morning ones today. He curses to himself, setting an alarm in his phone for tonight.

One day of missed doses won’t do any harm.

He’s okay.

Chapter 10: Release

“WHOA, WHATthe hell happened to your hand?” Addison asks as soon as Rowan walks into the station on Monday morning.

He’d done his best to clean it up, but there are still obvious bruises and cuts on his knuckles, thanks to Steven’s nose cartilage.

“Long story,” Rowan tells her, hoping to end the conversation there as he drops his backpack in his locker.

“Uh-huh. And we’ve got a long shift. Spill, mister.”

Rowan sighs. Thinks about how he can word this to make it seem like hedidn’tpunch a guy in the face for ignoring a safeword during a BDSM scene. Sighs again so Addison will know how put out he is by telling her even a shred of the truth.

“Had… an altercation.”

“Well, that wasn’t a long story at all. With who?”

He can hear the concern in her voice even through the nosiness.

“Just some guy.”

“You went out and got inan altercationwithsome guy?”

As she reiterates it, Rowan winces, knowing he’s digging himself in deeper. Again, Rowan sighs, moving to sit next to her on the open rig. She takes his hand, grabbing some gauze and antiseptic even though Rowan had long since done that on his own. Rowan watches as a curl draped over her forehead bounces with the dabbing motions she’s making across his knuckles.

“It wasn’t Mal, was it?” she asks lightly.

“No. Not… exactly.”

She perks up, meeting his eyes for the first time this morning. “Was itbecauseof him?”

“Yeah. Kinda… I kinda punched a guy for hurting him.”

“Jesus, Rowan. You’re not gonna get sued, are you?”

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