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The doctor chuckles. “Clearly.”
The mood remains light as the doctor steps up to the exam table to check Jake over, listening to his heart and lungs, looking into his ears, and taking his blood pressure. When he pulls out a syringe, I press back in my chair, bile rising in my throat.
I know in my head that it’s not a big deal. I know that Dr. Deacon isn’t about to give him a drug that will paralyze his muscles but keep him aware for his torture. That he isn’t about to give Jake a drug that will imitate fire in his veins. That he isn’t about to sedate him so he loses hours of time and wakes up to a nightmare.
I know all of that.
But knowing doesn’t stop the automatic trembling, or the shivery feeling in my stomach, or the fear tightening my throat.
Dr. Deacon says something about blood and tests and questions. Jake is nodding, but I can feel his eyes on me. I dig my nail harder into my skin, fighting the urge to run. Or to curl up in a ball and hide under the chair. Or to climb into Jake’s lap and tell the doctor to leave so we can be safe and alone.
I startle when I realize someone is beside me. Jake. It’s Jake. I release a shaky breath, my eyes finding his. He looks sad, even though he’s smiling. “Hey, Case. You good?”
“Mhm.” I try to look over his shoulder at the doctor, but I chicken out. “My turn?”
“Not yet. Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.”
My face heats. “Y-yeah. Um. Are you - I mean-” I peek down at his arm, not sure how I feel about the cotton taped in the crook of his elbow. It’s not even familiar. Not even triggering. None of the so-called doctors I saw as a slave even bothered to put anything over my needle marks.
Jake’s hand settles on my knee, thumb rubbing circles there. “I’m okay, Case. He took my blood for some standard tests.”
Is he going to do that to me?
“You can stay there while we finish,” Dr. Deacon tells him. “No need to get back on the exam table. We’re just talking now. Unless you’d like Casey to step out? These are the hard questions. I always save the worst for last.”
“He can stay.” Jake pushes to his feet and moves to perch on the arm of my chair. His hand finds the back of my neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape. A little bit of my anxiety melts away beneath the touch.
The doctor leans back against the counter, looking perfectly relaxed. “I don’t like to make assumptions with operatives. Just because you were in a position of power doesn’t mean shit didn’t happen.” His eyes seem to find Jake’s, holding his gaze firm. There’s a mixture of worry and kindness there. “There aren’t any incidents on record, but I need to ask - were you ever sexually assaulted, Jake?”
Jake’s fingers twitch. “No.”
“Are you sure?” Dr. Deacon’s gaze flickers down to me for just a moment before returning to Jake. “If Casey needs to leave-”
“The only sexual assault that happened was me assaulting others,” Jake says, his voice harsh and defensive. “I’m not the one in need of care in that department.”
I’m not sure I entirely agree. His consent was - in its own twisted way - also violated in many of his sexual interactions, the one with Maison his most recent, but I don’t speak up. That’s probably more of a Dr. Singh thing anyway since those incidents left Jake with mental wounds more than physical ones.
The doctor tilts his head, eyeing Jake. “How are you sleeping?”
“Fine.”
“Any other complaints?”
“No.”
“Mmm.” Dr. Deacon glances at the file, lips turned down, then says, “Alright. You’re all set with me. I’ll make sure to contact you if anything is concerning with your lab results and I’ll send over the file to your email. Continue seeing Dr. Singh, of course.”
Jake tenses beside me. “Dr. Singh? Didn’t he clear me? It’s a one appointment minimum. I spoke with him yesterday.”
“Correct.” Dr. Deacon smirks. “He believes you might need a few more sessions, and I have to say I agree with him.”
“But… why?”
“Well, for starters? The fact that you’re lying about sleeping.” Dr. Deacon raises an eyebrow at Jake, seeming to be daring him to argue. Jake doesn’t. Is he really having trouble sleeping? Like me? Maybe we should go back to sleeping together… “You wouldn’t be the first in the last 24 hours to be prescribed something for sleep. You certainly wouldn’t be the first operative to need the help. If you’d like to continue trying without medication, I respect that. If not, I have a mild sedative with very few side effects.”
Jake’s fingers start to move again, navigating through my mess of hair. “I guess there’s no shame in needing some help.”
“Excellent. I’ll get the meds to you by tonight.” Dr. Deacon’s eyes fall to me. My mind clears, no longer thinking about sleep or pills or how damn good it feels to have Jake touching me. “You ready, Casey?”
