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I look at Jake. “Will you still…?”
“Of course.” Jake ruffles my hair before standing up and tilting his head toward the exam table. “Come on. I’ve got you.”
While I move on wobbly legs, Dr. Deacon hands Jake my file and his stethoscope. They murmur something to each other that I can’t hear before Jake steps up to settle between my knees.
“What will you do?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Nothing you don’t want,” he promises. “I’d like to start with your blood pressure. Then listening to your heart and lungs. Would that be okay?”
I nod, trying to ignore Dr. Deacon hovering nearby as Jake puts the file by my hip and grabs the blood pressure cuff from the hook on the wall. He reminds me, “It’s not a restraint, you’re not being restrained, okay?” as he secures it around my bicep. I have to grit my teeth and remind myself the same thing over and over again to keep from panicking as he tightens the thing. It helps if I stare at him while he works, studying the strong line of his jaw, the stubble that covers it, the subtle dip in his chin, the mouth with a bottom lip larger than the top, the nose that tilts ever so slightly to the left, the-
“How are you doing?” he asks.
I blink, realizing the cuff is no longer on my arm and he’s already handed the stethoscope off to the doctor. That wasn't so bad. “I’m okay.”
“Good. Your blood pressure is a little low. We’ll keep an eye on that, okay? Heart and lungs sound great.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got a list of questions Dr. Deacon wants us to go through. He'll take notes while we talk. They’re just about how you’ve been feeling physically since getting to the safehouse. It’s important that you’re honest with me. I can’t help you if you’re not honest. Can you do that for me?” I nod. He gives me a smile that makes it a little hard to breathe. "Have you been experiencing any muscle weakness or fatigue?"
I wince, not entirely sure he'll be happy that I didn't tell him this before now. I drop my eyes to my clasped hands in my lap, unable to look at him when I admit the truth. "A little. Maybe."
Jake hesitates. "Okay. Has it ever gotten to the point where you can't walk or where you stumble? Or you try to perform a task and fail?"
"No. They just get, like, shivery? My muscles, I mean. And I'm tired all the time, but I figured that's because I don't really sleep…"
I wince a second time, my chest starting to collapse in on itself. He's going to be mad.
Jake rests a hand on my thigh, giving it a little squeeze before starting to rub circles with his thumb. He's telling me it's okay. Telling me he's not mad. It feels like I can breathe again. "Do you find yourself getting winded easily?"
"Yeah."
"Dizzy spells?"
"Um… a few."
He releases a shaky breath. "Is it worse when you swim?"
I tense, realizing my mistake. He's going to take it away. He's going to-
"I have to know so I can make sure you're safe when you're in the pool from now on. Please don't lie, okay? I can't keep you safe if you lie."
Oh.
I feel almost silly for having worried. This is Jake, after all. Jake would never take the pool from me.
"It gets worse if I push too hard, but I'm good at knowing when I need to float or take a break on the stairs."
"I want you to start checking in with whoever is on guard duty when you go to the pool. Just so they know to keep an eye on the security footage from the pool area. Can you do that for me?"
I'd really rather not, since I hate talking to anyone who isn't him or Carter - and maybe Nolan - but it seems like too fair of an ask to deny. "Okay."
"Thank you." He squeezes my thigh again. "Have you passed out or had your vision go black?"
"No, just the room spinning for a few seconds when I stand too fast."
"Okay. How's your appetite?"
