Jay reaches out a hand. “Hey, come on. It’s not on you.”
That seems to be the last straw for Gideon.
“How can you say that? I feel like I am repeating myself over and over. This is my fault. For fucking real, in a horrifically practical and literal way. My. FAULT. You were shot by a high-powered sniper from the top of the radio station. If James Senior hadn’t pushed you, you would be dead. A hole the size of my hand would have taken your heart out, and I would have had more than just your blood on my hands. Of course it’s myfucking fault, Jay,” he gasps out, and it’s followed by a heart-wrenching sob.
The pain in Jay’s heart surges, and Grayson groans quietly, the scent of patchouli growing before it settles again. He climbs carefully off the bed and gives Gideon a small push, and then a harder one so Gideon will at least sit on that side of the bed, hoping he’ll accept even the smallest of comforts from their alpha.
When his ass hits the bed, it’s with his back to Jay and to the room. If he didn’t know what to look for, he’d miss the shaking shoulders and the raw petrichor oozing in remorseful waves.
From the corner of his eye, Jay sees Leo grab a chair from across the room so he can sit and pull Grayson down on his lap.
“Love.” Jay runs his good hand up Gideon’s back and into his hair, sitting up so he can press the good side of his chest into Gideon’s side. “I’m here, and you’re here, and…it’s alright.”
There’s a cynical laugh.
“It’s pure fucking luck. I—I—I can still feel your blood on my hands. If Melody hadn’t been there, you would have bled out all over the parking lot every time I used my hands to keep your heart pumping. Goddess. I can’t get it out of my mind. You died and…you said my name like you meant goodbye.”
Gideon begins to cry in earnest as Jay tips him backwards. He’s surprised his arm doesn’t hurt as much as he expects it to when he lifts it to hold his mate close, disregarding Finn’s indignant squeak from the open door.
“Jay! Come on. You’re going to open those stitches and undo all the work they did on those muscles and nerves.”
Jay can see his frazzled mate holding a tablet in one hand and pushing his glasses up his nose with the other. His hair is sticking up all over, and there’s a suspiciously damp spot on his shoulder.
Gideon jumps up and wipes his face with the back of his hand.
“Gid.”
“No, I’m done. Just…don’t do it again. Please.”
Jay smiles when their eyes meet. “Yeah, okay.”
He puts all his love and pride into his gaze, and he must succeed a little because Gideon’s pale cheeks go pink before they fade away. It’d be enough for Rowan to comment and make a joke to lighten the mood if he’d been here.
Jay can’t believe he hasn’t realized it before now, but where are the rest of his mates?
Are they in the hall?
Were hospitals don’t usually limit pack attendance at the bedside outside of the ICU, and he can’t smell them.
Where are they, he asks himself again, a tiny smidge of worry tickling in his belly and making it swoop. So he asks, out loud this time, “Where are the others?”
“We don’t know,” Grayson groans before he runs into the bathroom and slams the door.
“What do you mean? They’re at the apartment, right?”
Leo shakes his head. “We can see Nix and Luc are somewhere in Island Estates. They moved recently to a new place about thirty minutes ago. They’re physically well, according to the biometrics.”
Jay holds a hand out for Finn, who climbs into the bed with him and begins rubbing his nose and wrists against Jay’s throat, chest, and up over his abdomen, adding his tart berry scent to Grayson’s contributions.
“The babies are good, they’re good, we just don’t know exactly where they are or who has them.”
Jay’s stomach drops and impotent rage courses along his spine. He sure as fuck hopes they’re okay, or he’ll raze his hometown to the ground to find the culprits.
The bathroom door opens, and Grayson exits, hair damp from splashing water over it. While Jay watches, it dries in an invisible breeze. It’s right out of the movies and so strange to see firsthand.
“We wanted to be sure you…uh…” Grayson says.
“What he’s not saying is that we wanted to make sure you lived,” Leo gripes under his breath and shucks his shoes so he can put his toes on the side of the bed.
