Page 98 of Outlaw Witch

My breath catches in my chest and I shove those instincts deep, deep down. A problem to worry about another time. All my life, I’ve been the rational one. The one more motivated by duty than anything.

These feelings, though. They’re unfamiliar. Probably more of a symptom that I’m losing my fucking mind.

Or that I’m morphing into someone, something‘other’.

And that scares the absolute hell out of me.

*

Silver

ANOTHER WEEK PASSESby in a blur. As we get steadily closer to the next new moon, I spend my time split between Fabian’s room in the med bay, digging into more research to try and come up with ideas for an effective sacrifice for him, and acting as a heavy for Roscoe and Zeph as they continue to have major problems within their ranks.

Fabian’s been sinking into himself ever since the ritual failed and now we’re getting closer to our likely final attempt and he’s grown even quieter. More reserved than ever.

We spend a lot of time doing nothing, sitting watching movies or playing games. Sometimes Seb joins us, sometimes he decides he’s too cool for the company.

But recently, I catch Fabian watching his brother with this soft, sad look on his face that just about breaks my heart.

And then I get a surge of panic about my reaction. I have lost all sense of chill around this mage, and the thought of him not being around anymore scares the shit out of me.

Know what else scares the shit out of me? Feelings.

My ass has practically molded to the chair that sits beside Fabian’s bed with the amount I’ve been sitting in it.

It’s been barely more than a month since I first got here, since I met these guys and found myself entrenched in their lives. It feels like I’ve been slowly losing my mind since then. My walls are lowering and that’s something else that’s terrifying me.

And I can’t cope with watching Fabian wasting away for another minute.

So I snap.

I decide I’m going to get him out of this room. I don’t know the last time he left the building, and I’m pretty sure it’s not helping his mental state for him to be cooped up like this. Staring at the same four walls, the same ceiling that mocks him every night when he tries to sleep.

I know that he hates his own weakness, hates how his body seems to be failing him more and more every day.

I get it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him sink into his own despair.

Fuck that.

I’m not going to get him out of here on my own, though, not unless I drag him out by his hair.

Which means I have to get a little help.

“Bro, when was the last time you took a shower? It isripein here,” Seb says, right on cue after Fabian wakes from another fitful nap.

My plan is to get him showered and changed and then take him out to the cafe Hanna and the others have been working at for the past few weeks. It’s late afternoon and shouldn’t be too busy. Seb’s also helped me to organize a car to drive us the short distance.

First things first, though, a shower.

Fabian’s cheeks flush slightly, and he glances at me before shooting a glare at his brother. It’s a move that has my chest squeezing once again. There’s absolutely nothing cuter than a hulking mountain of a man blushing because his little brother has told him he stinks.

Sucks for me. If he’d been less damn cute and self-effacing, I might have been able to keep my walls up for longer. But somehow he’s snuck inside them.

“It... might have been a couple days,” Fabian mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair before wincing. “Shit. Maybe more than a couple.” He swings his legs out of bed and then hesitates before putting any weight on them. I hold back even though all I want to do is spring forward and support him.

Something tells me he wouldn’t like that.

And for some reason, Fabian being comfortable has suddenly become one of the top five spots on my priority list. Not sure when that happened, but I don’t like it.

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