Page 56 of The Road Home
"Easy, you might be dizzy after hitting your head." Jared quickly stood and braced his hands on Orson's waist.
"I'm okay." He gave himself a moment to make sure he wasn't going to fall back down. His skin was sticky from sweating and his head ached. He looked up at Jared. "Where?"
"First aid kit is in my bathroom."
He turned, aware of Jared directly behind him. He was glad he was there. The truth was, he didn't feel so great, but he was trying to hide it so he didn't appear as weak as he was feeling. The dreams always left him shaken and tired, almost as much as the actual attacks had.
Jared's bedroom light was on, so he made his way across the room and into his bathroom, pausing to glance at himself in the mirror, seeing how horrible he looked with blood dripping down his cheek and smeared under his eye from when he'd wiped the tears away. He sighed, plopping down on top of the toilet lid.
He watched as Jared fished the first aid kit from under the counter, trying not to think about how much trouble he was for him. Every day it seemed he was disrupting Jared's day or night with something. How long before he said enough was enough and decided that this wasn't going to work with him staying there?
The nightmares wouldn't stop. This was something he had to deal with for the last few years. Some nights were worse than others, but they wouldn't stop happening. Was it fair to wake Jared up with his screams every few nights?
"Okay, I'm just going to wash some of this blood off so I can get a better look." Jared came to stand by him with a washcloth in his hand. "It might sting a little or be tender when I touch it."
"I'm okay, but I want to shower before I go back to bed, so if you can, wait to put the bandage on it until after."
"It needs it on now. It's still bleeding a bit. I'll put a new one on if we need to after your shower, but this one should hold unless you're scrubbing at it." Jared's touch was gentle as he wiped the blood, sweat, and tears from his face. "This could use a stitch or two honestly."
Orson went to shake his head, but Jared's hands held it steady.
"It's up to you. If you don't want it stitched, the strips will work. It will scar worse though."
"What's another scar." Orson closed his eyes. "If I can get away without stitches, then I don't want them."
"Fair enough." Jared continued to work on his head before finally taking a step back. "Okay, you should be good."
"Thanks. I'm just going to go shower now." Orson stood, pausing as a wave of dizziness hit him.
Jared grabbed hold of him. "Easy. Maybe a bath would be better?"
"No, I'm okay. I just want to rinse the sweat off. I got up too fast." He glanced up, too aware of how close Jared was and wanting to lean against him again to feel the comfort his embrace brought him. "I just need to grab some clean boxers." He realized he'd been sitting there in front of Jared wearing hardly anything. It was too late to be embarrassed. Even though Jared had seen him naked before, it was still a bit odd to be so casual around anyone.
"Just take it slow. You hit your head harder than you think."
Orson nodded as he turned and stepped past Jared to go back to his room.
Jared followed for a second, but then stopped. "Yell if you need anything, okay?" He leaned against his bedroom doorframe as he watched Orson head to his room.
"Yeah, I will." Orson paused. "Thanks again for waking me and helping me calm down."
"Anytime." Jared smiled.
Orson smiled back, but wished he could promise Jared it wouldn't happen again.
Once he grabbed a clean pair of boxers, he headed back down the hall to the bathroom, pausing to stare at his face in the mirror. The area the steristrip covered was red and swollen, and he was sure Jared was right that it would turn into a nasty bruise by morning. Just what he didn't need for starting a new job.
Ignoring thoughts of what people would think when they saw him, he stripped down and climbed into the shower. The hot water helped to clear his head and get the sweat off his body. He tried not to think about the nightmare, tried not to see the visions of it in his head, but they haunted him. It took hours for them to disappear after he had one. Most nights, he'd lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying anything he could to forget. Tonight would be another of those nights.
He quickly turned off the shower and stepped out, sure that Jared wouldn't go back to bed until he was sure he was okay. Another wave of guilt hit him for disturbing Jared's simple life. For now, he didn't have much of a choice. It was Jared's or back on the streets, and no matter how bad he might bother Jared, he couldn't go back out on the streets again. He'd come too far, was too close to getting his life in order finally.
Once dressed, he made his way back to his room, stopping at the door, shocked to see his bed made with clean sheets and Jared setting a bottle of water and a couple of pills on the nightstand.
"I figured you'd need something for pain." Jared nodded to the pills.
"You didn't have to make the bed. I could have done it. Thank you." Orson stepped into the room.
"I didn't mind. The sheets were wet from you sweating. I figured you'd sleep better if I changed them." Jared stepped toward the doorway.
