Page 111 of Gates of Tartarus

“Lachy…”

He turns to me immediately, Walker forgotten, and takes my hand gently. “Well, this isn’t good,” he states simply, looking me over. “What’ve you gone and done now, Cher?”

I try to smile at him, but my face hurts too much, and my eyes unintentionally well up. His mouth pulls down into a sad frown, and he sits down beside my bed in the open chair. Walker watches him for a moment before leaving to stand just outside the door. Lachlainn’s face darkens as he sits beside me, not saying anything, then he looks around, puzzled, as if searching for something, focusing for the first time on Gemma and Hideo, who are hovering uncomfortably in the corner.

He looks startled at first, and his brow furrows with confusion as he looks back and forth at them, before returning to lock eyes with me. He lets out a deep, sad sigh, and without looking at either one, he says shortly, “Gemma. Hideo. Leave this fucking room.”

Gemma looks more miserable than before, if it’s possible, and Hideo just looks hopeless. Gemma speaks softly, saying, “I think it’s better if I stay, Lachy. I can help.” But he shakes his head and replies confusingly, “All her pain is coming from you. Whatever you did, you don’t have the right to be here anymore. She’ll be fine with me. Go on now.” Gemma starts to move, stops for a second, then walks out, shoulders hunched and shaking slightly. Hideo moves towards me, hand slightly outstretched towards me, and Lachy intercepts him, grabbing his wrist in a crushing grip, though Hideo doesn’t show it.

Lachy looks up at him. “You don’t deserve what she’s already given you,” he states. “You don’t have the right to ask for more.” He releases Hideo, who stares at me, jaw tight, eyes lost, then turns and leaves.

“What about those other two?” Lachy asks me softly.

I try to smile at him and whisper, “One’s okay. The other, not so much.”

He makes kind of a chuffing, growly sound and looks back to the door, where Maddox and Walker are hovering. “Sorry for picking you up,” he says shortly. Maddox is still red in the face, and the odd apology makes me giggle slightly, before wincing. Lachy looks to me and raises an eyebrow.

“Wrong one,” I reply.

“Oh.” He seems stumped for a minute, then calls over his shoulder, “Apology rescinded. You can fuck the fuck off.”

I start laughing, but it turns into a sharp intake of breath with a low moan. Concerned, he asks gently, “What hurts?”

“Kind of everything,” I reply. He frowns, taking in my appearance. I haven’t been able to take a full shower yet, and the hospital is slammed with the care of the catatonic victims, so we haven’t been able to wash all the blood off me. I’m still caked in dirt and grime from the factory floor. I’ve had a sort of sponge bath, but all it has done is spread the mess from one place to another. I really need a good soak to get clean.

“Whose is all this?” he asks, motioning to me in a general sort of wave.

“Mine?” I manage to squeak out before his face turns thunderous, and he rounds again on the two men still hovering outside the door. Without Gemma here to shield me, his anger floods me like a dam has broken, and I choke a little on the feeling as it pours through my veins. He flips back to me as soon as he hears the sound and mutters to himself, “Calmly, calmly...” Taking deep, slow breaths, the feeling fades and is replaced by that slow, warm glow in my stomach that only is there when Lachy is close to me. He reaches out a giant hand and strokes my hair back off my forehead. “Is anything hurt?” he asks. “Where’s the doctor? Did you get shot? Or hit?” His hands hover over me, unsure and unsteady, as though afraid to touch me, but desperate to make me feel better.

I reach up and grab them between mine, holding them still. “I’m okay,” I whisper. “It looks a lot worse than it is. It’s okay, Lach.”

He lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes, jaw flexing, then leans forward, face over mine, moving slowly like he’s fighting with himself. “Just... is it okay... Tell me no if… I just have to…” he says on a breath and then gently, so gently, touches his lips to mine.

The warm glow in my stomach roars to an inferno, sparks of fire chasing each other over my skin like fireflies. He kisses me like I’m something unbearably precious, and breakable, and beautiful. He kisses me like I’m not covered in blood and dirt, like I’m everything he could ever ask for, just as I am, in this instant. He kisses me, and he feels like home, and like safety and comfort and nighttime on the island, with nothing but the ocean around us. He kisses me, and I forget where I am and remember who I am. He centers me and brings me back to myself, and the only thing in the world that could take me away from this moment is the wild, distraught voice echoing down the corridor.

“Where is she? I’m looking for Kailani Reed? No, I’m not a member of her fucking family!” There’s a pause and then more yelling. “I don’t care if visiting hours are… Maddox! Where is she?”

Jonah’s anxious and distressed face appears at the door, taking in the scene before him. I expect to feel some emotion from him other than relief, but the only thing I can feel coming off him is pure, unadulterated thankfulness. No jealousy or anger, nothing negative or harsh. Just relief that I’m okay, followed by slight confusion. He looks at Maddox and Walker standing unhappily outside the door, and at Lachy’s presence by the bed, his careful gaze wandering around the room, and he nods slightly, as if to himself. Everything in him is tense and coiled, and, even feeling the way I am, I can see how much he wants to rush into the room and how hard it is for him to pause in the doorway.

“Hey, Lachy,” he asks cautiously. “Am I cool to come in?”

Surprisingly, Lachy doesn’t hesitate and jerks his head towards the chair on the other side of my bed. Jonah sits down and grabs one of my hands, first kissing it and then just holding it against his face for a long moment. “Jesus, Kai. Maybe don’t do that again, hmmm?” he mumbles against my palm.

I raise my eyebrows a little and say, “Sorry?” in kind of a questioning voice.

“Don’t say sorry. I’m sorry. I should have been there, butno one called,” he says bitterly. “Some fucking team. I guess they didn’t think I’d be needed on this one. I had no idea what was happening. I’ve been dancing to Gomez’s every fucking whim for two days, trying to distract her with pointless fucking… while you… Not a singlefucking personwas answering their phones. I was starting to go crazy… Then Lach texts me to find out whatroomyou’re in, because you never came home and didn’t call, and he finally got ahold of Gemma but only heard you’re in the hospital andno one fucking told me…” He chokes on the last words, eyes glassy, and looks around the room, clearly wondering where everyone is. Turning back to me, he scans me carefully, taking in every cut and bruise, before looking to Lachy. “Where’s–”

Lachy interrupts sharply, his tone heavy with meaning and warning, though he tries (and fails) to inject some kind of levity into it. “As soon as she gets released from here, we’re doing an epic movie marathon. All her favorites. You can come if you want… I’ll even let you sit on the couch. Maybe.” There’s a teasing note to his words, a hint or a head’s up. The small curve of Lach’s smile, even forced, makes my lips curl up in echo, though the black pit is still rotting my stomach.

Jonah’s eyes crease with confusion for a moment, then concern, when Lachy shakes his head once, sharply, in a silent caution. I can almostfeelthe questions pressing at Jonah’s mouth, wanting to tumble out, to demand answers, but he clenches his jaw, studying Lachy before turning to me. He’s madesomekind of decision, and, with a slightly contrived, purposefully mischievous grin, he says, “Aw man! I knew I’d get on that couch eventually. Can we have a cool nickname? Like, Wonder Twins won’t work, obviously. Unless you’re talking about Lachy and me… It would work for us, maybe. Wonder Twin Powers… ACTIVATE! Though that sounds really dirty, actually. Not a bad thing, though. I mean, no assumptions being made here. But, like… You know. Capes and some shit, right?” He’s talking a mile a minute, fast even for Jonah, but it’s distracting me from everything else pressing in around me, and somehow the image of him and Lachy in capes is enough to put a little, true glee in my heart. It’s faint, and flickering, but there. And I can see the change in Jonah’s face the instant he feels it light. “What’re we watching? When can you get out of here? I’ll get the pizza and movies. How are you with B Horror movies? ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon’ and stuff?”

Lachy grins, and if it doesn’t hold its usual mirth, I’m too grateful for himtryingto say anything. It’s enough that I can breathe for the first time since Sunday night. No one is asking me questions, no one is poking at the raw, torn fabric of my brain. They’re just talking like everything’s okay, and their emotions wash into me. I’m too tired to be concerned that they’re able to change me from devastated to cheerful so quickly, though some murky part files it away for later. Even at my worst I’ve never been pulled into this much of a roller coaster, but the relief of normalcy is overwhelming.

I mock-frown at Lachy but am already feeling happier just having Jonah near. “Youdid this! I’m holding you responsible for his movie choices.”

Lachy doesn’t even try to hold back his grin as Jonah whines dramatically, “Girl! Don’t even! You can’t disparage classic cinema! ‘The Blob’? ‘The Stuff’? ‘Attack of the Crab Monsters’?‘The Brain that Wouldn’t Die’?” He says the last in such a pleading, plaintive voice, that Lachy and I crack, and we both start laughing. Mine’s painful, and hesitant, and barely there, but it’s real, and it starts chasing some of the shadows from the corners of my soul. From the hallway, I can hear Maddox’s and Walker’s confused discussion.

“Is there only one couch or something?”

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