Page 19 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Nikolai nodded and slid the container over to him with a sealed set of utensils. For himself, he grabbed the small box of donuts from the other bag. He was feeling like a sweet this morning to level himself out.

He took up the chair across from Brooks and dove into his own food. Just the smell of it was awakening his hunger, and he chomped through two donuts in quick succession, following it with gulps of black coffee. It wasn’t a cold glass of vodka, but it would do for now.

His eyes slid up to see Brooks just sitting there, staring down at the still closed food container.

“You eat?” Nikolai asked again, trying not to get frustrated. Brooks had to be starving. Why wouldn’t he eat? Did he think Nikolai had done something to the food?

Brooks looked up at him, eyes big as though Nikolai had asked a much more dangerous question.

“You want something different?” Nikolai tried.

“N-no,” Brooks said. “Sorry, this is–this is fine. Sorry.”

Brooks reached for the container, opening the clamshell. He did so slowly, as though it pained him. He opened the pack of silverware and took out the fork, carefully spearing one of the strawberries in the container. It went into his mouth and he almost grimaced as he chewed.

“I can get you different,” Nikolai tried again. “What do you eat?”

“T-this is fine,” Brooks said quietly. But Nikolai watched him hesitate before he speared another bit of strawberry, hand trembling around his fork.

He once again chewed painfully slowly, then took a breath as if to steel himself before cutting off a tiny sliver of pancake.

Nikolai understood to a point. It had been a difficult morning. But the kid still needed to eat. Nikolai was getting the bad feeling that if he sent Brooks back to his room like this, even the snacks there would go untouched.

He let it go for a few minutes, finishing off his doughnuts and then a side of scrambled eggs. It helped to have food in his stomach. His patience and mood were improving already.

But the entire time he ate, he surreptitiously watched Brooks pick at his own food. It took him several tries before a morsel made its way into his mouth, and he looked ill as he chewed his way through it.

Maybe Nikolai’s presence here was doing more harm than good.

“You can take back to your room. Will you eat later?” Nikolai offered. Then, “You are too thin, you need to eat.”

“It’s fine,” Brooks said hurriedly. “I’m sorry, I can—it’s fine. S-sorry.” Then, as if to prove it to Nikolai, Brooks cut a bigger piece of egg and stuffed it in his mouth.

It was the wrong choice, and Nikolai stood at the same time that Brooks pushed up away from the table, green in the gills.

“Through there, the right door,” he clipped just as Brooks swiveled around to look for a bathroom. The man was surprisingly quick on his feet, dashing to the hallway and through the door Nikolai had indicated not a moment later. It would’ve been a good ploy to escape, except he was clearly actually being sick. Nikolai walked close enough to hear it from the open door. He grimaced at no one.

So the food had been too soon. He’d rushed the horses. Foolish.

Uncertain about what else to do and annoyed at his own helplessness, Nikolai pulled out his phone and wrote out a summary of what had happened to Meredith. She responded immediately that she’d send some nausea medication over.

When the sounds of sickness stopped, Nikolai peered through the open doorway of the bathroom. Brooks had flushed away the mess, but was still sitting on the floor, leaned up against the far wall, head in his hands.

“Is this why you are too thin?” It came out before Nikolai could think better of it, and he had to watch Brooks cringe. Yeah, that had been tasteless. If Meredith had been there she would’ve swatted him for it.

“I’m sorry,” Brooks stuttered. “I didn’t mean–I wasn’t trying–”

He looked on the verge of tears again, and Nikolai could not handle it. He needed the man to calm down, not have another panic attack.

“Hey,” he held up his hands in a pacifying motion. “Is okay. Too soon to eat. I understand.” He paused then, unsure what to do next. Taking Brooks back to the dining room would be a bad idea. “You can wash up. Try again later. Okay?”

Brooks bit his bottom lip, drawing attention back to the fact that he’d split it open. Nikolai barely held back the glare at the reminder, because he knew it would do no good for Brooks to see him more upset.

“Okay,” Brooks said quietly.

Satisfied that at least he wasn’t going to push Brooks into yet another full meltdown, Nikolai stepped forward and offered his hand for Brooks to get back up. Brooks stared at the offer, as if Nikolai's hand were going to snap out and hurt him.

Then he took the hand, and was on his feet once more.

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