Page 16 of Cover Up

“I can’t live my whole life babysat,” Felix told him. “I’m on good meds, and there’s a chance I’m just feeling like shit and nothing will happen. Please just…let me have it this way?”

“Fine,” Zeke breathed out. “I don’t like it, but I get it. And I trust you to tell me when you actually need someone.”

It was the best Felix was going to get, so he agreed, then hung up before grabbing a heavy quilt. He decided to chill on the couch for most of the day since it would be easy to take care of himself from there, and it was weirdly more comfortable than his bed.

The afternoon seemed to crawl by, and Felix started to feel worse. His aura got stronger, and it was when he started seeing waving rainbows of light in his periphery and his mouth tasted like it was full of pennies he realized he wasn’t going to avoid this one.

He took several breaths and waited.

And waited.

And nothing happened.

Ten minutes later, there was a half-frantic knock on his door, and Felix climbed to his feet. He felt unsteady and shaky, but he made it to the door and threw it open but couldn’t for the life of him recognize the person standing there. His gaze roamed all over the person, and something about the guy’s strange-looking arm started to make sense.

“…gone,” the guy was babbling when Felix managed to focus. “My house was torn to damn shreds, and a bunch of my stuff is missing. I hate to ask, sugar, but you seen her?”

Seen who? What was he talking about? Who even was this? Felix stared up into the man’s eyes, and he was overcome with the sudden need to be tucked in his embrace. He took one step closer, then another.

“Felix? Hey, darlin’, you okay?”

Felix’s eyes started to close, and then he made contact with the very broad, very strong chest. Everything went fuzzy. “I—uh. Oh no,” he heard himself say.

And then it all went black.

* * *

Felix’s awareness returned in fits and bursts. He couldn’t remember where he was, but he was lying on something very soft, and he was very warm. There was also pressure on his ankle, and it took his brain a second to realize he was being held by a strong, calloused hand.

He attempted to lick his lips, but his tongue didn’t want to listen to his brain. He blinked a few times, and the blur in front of his eyes got a bit clearer.

Home, he thought to himself when he saw a painting above his TV.

He turned his head to see a man staring down at him. Felix tried to reach for the memory of who he was, but there was nothing left to grab. It was just empty space. His eyes started to well with tears, and a second later, he was sobbing.

The man had him up quickly, and Felix clung on as emotions poured from his chest. He had a vague memory that this was normal—that he’d been in a similar position like this with…

With…

“Max?”

“Naw, sugar. But I can give him a call if you want.”

Sugar.

God, why did that feel so good?

He cried a little harder, then sniffed. As he wiped his hand under his nose, it all came back, like a crashing weight against his temple. Humiliation accompanied the recognition, and he attempted to pull away. “Deimos?”

Dei smiled at him. “I like when you say my whole name. Sounds real sweet.”

Felix’s cheeks heated, and he glanced down at himself. Had he been wearing these clothes before? He would sometimes piss himself when he seized if it was bad enough, but he didn’t have the telltale signs of being cleaned up. He smelled like his shower from the morning and a bit like sweat.

“Did I…” He stopped, his brow furrowed. Had he left the house? Was that how Dei found him? “Were you here this whole time?”

“It’s only been three minutes since I came to your door, honey.”

Felix hated the sensation that an entire day had passed instead of just minutes. He felt like he’d been asleep for hours. His head began to hurt, and he carefully extracted himself from Dei’s grip, easing back down to his little nest of blankets and pillows.

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