Page 16 of Constantly Cotton
Jason let out a low moan as Jackson lanced the wound on his shoulder, and everybody buried their faces in their shoulders as the smell of infection filled the room.
“Well, that’s pleasant,” Jackson muttered. Cotton could see him busy with the gauze, and Henry was picking up as fast as he could. In a few moments, the welling pus was cleared, and they moved on to the next one.
This time Jason bucked and cried out, and Cotton held his hand tightly and murmured, “Hang on, baby. They’re almost done.”
This time the smell was so bad Henry had to run out of the room to be sick.
But not Jackson, and not Cotton. Jackson kept cleaning, irrigating, and cleaning some more, and Cotton held Jason’s hand and cried, telling him everything would be okay, it had to be okay, because they were working so hard to save him, and what kind of angel would Cotton be if they let him slip away now.
AN HOURlater, Jackson, Henry, and Cotton all sagged, exhausted and sweat drenched, around the kitchen table.
“The smell is still out here,” Henry mumbled, and Cotton brightened.
“Hey, we’ve got an oil infuser!” He remembered this from one of the guys; there’d been so many. “I think this was Bobby’s. He left behind a lot of his stuff. Anyway, it’s in the closet, and there’s some lavender and eucalyptus oil there, and….”
He had the thing plugged in and sitting on the kitchen counter, where the coffee maker usually went, and as Henry and Jackson both took deep breaths of air thatdidn’tsmell positively vomitous, Jackson smiled tiredly at him.
“You,” he said distinctly, “are absolutely awesome to have around. This was genius.”
Cotton gave a faint smile. “Yeah, but you lanced the wound.”
Jackson shuddered. “God, I hate hospitals. I mean, it’s a phobia. After that, I’m going to start having nightmares about your apartment too. Sorry. That’s not fair, but I’m saying.”
Henry grunted. “That sucked. Cotton, you get points for staying in the room.”
At that moment, Lance walked in, and the smell of humid August night air was almost as sweet and fresh as the infuser.
“Oh God,” Lance muttered. “Shit, guys, I’m going to jump in the shower so I don’t share any of my super-grade hospital bugs with the guy in there, and then I’ll have a look. I know this smell. Fuck. How’s he doing?”
“Better,” Jackson said, looking around the table and getting a consensus. “His fever dropped to 100 again, and he’s got some color back in his face. We cleaned and squished saline in his wounds, like you told Henry, but yeah. He’s going to need you.”
“I’ll shower after Lance,” Cotton said. He looked around. “Where is everybody? The place should be bustling about now.”
“Our apartment,” Henry told him. “I texted everybody and told them to go there instead. Once we can open some windows and air this place out a little, everyone will come back.” He sighed. “But we might let Billy sleep in our guest room tonight. Poor guy—the inflatable is hell on his back.”
Jackson grimaced. “You have a guest room? That’s almost human of you.”
“I know,” Henry said with a snort. “I was prepared to let it be vacant with a few boxes, but suddenly it’s vacuumed and there’s a bed and a nightstand and a lamp. It’s fucking scary.”
Cotton smiled, because he was in on this joke. “Henry did it,” he said gleefully. “Don’t let him fool you that it was Lance. He put in a queen-sized bed for overflow, in case it was needed.”
Jackson quirked an eyebrow. “Well done, grasshopper. Next step, personal hygiene.”
“Fuck you,” Henry muttered, obviously embarrassed. He stood. “I’m going to go check on everyone and shower downstairs. See you at the office tomorrow?”
Jackson shrugged. “We were going to get K-ski from the hospital first.”
“I might stop by,” Henry said. He gave a dirty chuckle. “Giving him shit could be the treatment he never knew he needed.”
He left, leaving Cotton to ask, “Who?”
“A friend of ours,” Jackson told him, looking tired. “A lot of people got hurt last week.”
Cotton sighed. “I’m so very, very useless.”
“Stop it,” Jackson snarled, so angry Cotton jumped. “Henry and I wouldn’t have had you in that room if we hadn’t needed a steady hand. Cotton, I know you’re at a loss right now, but don’t go there with those thoughts. You’re amazing. And maybe you’re feeling like you’re going to be still a kid forever, or fragile and hurt forever, but trust me, anyone who can come out of that room and say, ‘Hey, how about lavender?’ is a person we need in this world. You will find a place in it. Have some faith.”
Cotton nodded, warmed but also near tears and not trusting his words at the moment. He wanted to go back to Jason, who thought he was an angel. For some reason, that made him feel better, and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t something he could live up to, was it?
