Did You Say My Husband. . . ? (boyxboy)

13. His Little Bird....

Chapter Thirteen

His Little Bird....

Point Of View: Jeremy

Cool fingertips were fluttering across my forehead. Startled I opened my eyes expecting to see Chris, not a fairly tall woman with chestnut colored hair and eyes a bright green almost yellow with a bright smile on her face. I blinked, trying to remember where I last saw her from. Then I remembered in the hospital room, Chris had called her 'Mom'.

"Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just checking to make sure you didn't have a fever. Chris said you were a bit sick this morning."

I was definitely more awake after hearing his name.

"Yes ma'am, I did, but-" I began, but was cut off just a quickly.

"I know, Hun. All that unnecessary blood would have made any sane person sick, too. I could just about strangle that boy half to death for taking you into such a mess in the first place, especially with all your injuries, and in the account that you've just gotten out of the hospital." He ranted. "I swear I don't understand that child sometimes," she finished, seeming to be speaking more to herself.

"Boy?" I asked having become more confused throughout her rant.

"Yes, of course, Christopher-" she paused mid sentence. "Goodness. I am so sorry, Hun. I've done forgotten that you don't remember me. Let me introduce myself. I'm Betty Morris or in other words 'Mom'."

"Mom...." I whispered to myself very aware of her intense eyes on my face.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, a concerned expression taking over her facial features. "So, Hun, how are you holding up?"

"I'm alright," I mumbled without thought.

It was an automatic reply which was actually a complete and utter lie. I was confused beyond reason, not to mentioned overwhelmed, exhausted, and about a hundred other feelings. How is someone suppose to feel when they find out someone is out to kill you and you have no idea why because you've go amnesia. I can't think of any words to explain how I feel and the easiest answer to give is a lie.

"I'm a mother and I can tell when my children are telling me a bold face lie, and honey you are telling a huge one. You don't remember, but I know you better than you know yourself. You're my child, and I know my children. You, sweetie, are definitely not alright." She smiled sweetly but sadly down at me before whispering, "It's alright to lean on others when you can't hold yourself up."

I was about to open my mouth to argue when my eyes welled up and spilt over. Traitorous tears. Before I could lift a hand to wipe the tears away I was being held and rocked back and forth against a warm breast that coincidently smelled of apple pie and channel. The comfort of being held by a woman so mother - like, even if it wasn't my biological mother was suddenly too overwhelming and I broke down and sobbed my hurt, confusion, and pain out.

"S-Sorry," I murmured when I was able to pull myself together.

"Pish - posh, sweetie. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for."

"B-But I cried all over you..."

"That's what mother's are for." She smiled sweetly.

I yawned, then blushed. "Thank you," I replied quietly.

Betty reached over and ran her fingers through my hair. I yawned again. I was suddenly exhausted and worn out from all the thinking and all the stress.

"You're family, Jer. We love you, and you will come to love us agin as much as we love you. But, for right now I'll let you get some rest. You look exhausted, plus you're still healing. If those dark circles under eyes have anything to go under."