Where do you go when the answers abandon you?
Ryker would say home, and he'd point toward the East with a solid nod of his head. But I don't want to think or talk about home—not when my home is where my family is, not where it used to be. I can't even think about having to go there... where he...
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pour over all the information I can find about organ donations and organ rejections. Sadly, they all say the same thing—organ rejection can be managed by taking immunosuppressants. With Chronic Organ Rejection, Gatlin may have to take these medications for the rest of his life.
"You look like shit, Hawthorne," Charlie says. Jerking away from him, I trip and fall off the side of the platform. "Oh! Fuck! Sorry!"
He rushes to my side and hoists me up by hooking his arms under my pits, but he can hardly help me with his laughter. In a heap, we both fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Our laughs mingle, getting louder and louder as we lay.
"Well... good morning to you, too." I knock away his arms and roll away to stand.
Charlie does the same, dusting himself off. "Uhhh... you've got a..."
Smoothing my hand across my hair, I knock away the stray curls sticking up all over my head. A smile comes across his face and he pauses, staring down at me, wearing a big smile. His mouth drops open to say something, but the fondness in his eyes melts away, leaving a mask in its wake.
"Thanks."
"So... any progress?"
"Oh!" I swing around to glare in Gatlin's direction. He lies unconscious on the table, neatly covered by a thick navy blanket. Steadily, his chest rises and falls. "Not much, but I won't stop looking."
"Maybe you should ask him if he's okay taking the suppressants until the issue is fixed."
Shaking my head, I step back. "I can't ask him to do that."
"He knew the risks, Blue. This isn't your fault."
"He didn't know this was a risk, and frankly, neither did I."
It hurts to see him this way. When I first met Gatlin, he was broad-shouldered with a slim waist and bulging with muscles. And I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen.
It's still true. He's still the most handsome man I've ever seen, but Charlie is a close second. And the last two weeks he's been growing on me, while Gatlin slowly wastes away.
All of his muscle is nearly gone, and his skin hangs on his bone structure poorly. He's lost much of his weight, and I can barely stay ahead of his allergic reactions. If I don't find something soon, he'll die and all of this... all of this will be for nothing.
"At least we know what the problem is..."
"Yeah, Charlie, and it's doing fuck all! If I can't solve this or make it containable, he's going to die!" I shout, slamming my hand down on the nearest table. It bends horribly, slashing straight down the middle before turning into a balled piece of metal. "So, if you've got any bright ideas, now would be the time to share."
Eyes bouncing to the table and back at me, Charlie studies me silently. His bright eyes are narrow and focused, but there is no fear—only questions. "How strong are you?"
"Wait... what?" His question catches me off guard and I drop my gaze to the crumpled metal. Ashamed, I stumble back. "Why did I...?"
Rage pumps through my veins. It sets it boiling hot, traveling to every corner of my body. It brings with it confusion. The fog over my head recedes and I collapse to my knees, still in disbelief.
"You okay, Blue?"
"Yeah..." Blinking away the tears gathering in my eyes. "I—I don't know what I did that."
"When was the last time you slept?"
I throw back my head and laugh. "Sleep? Who has time for sleep?"
"You need to make time. Standing in here, staring at Gatlin isn't good for your health—especially your mental health. To help him, you have to take care of yourself."
"I'm fine."
"No, you aren't." He points to the door. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm escorting you back to your suite, and you're going to get some sleep. When you've had at least eight hours, then we'll try this song and dance again."
Crossing my arms, I regard him from the floor. "And if I say no?"
"Then I'll carry you."
"You're not carrying me anywhere!"
"Those are your options, Blue—walk or be carried—either way, you're going to bed. Do you think Gatlin would want you wasting away in here? You can't help anyone until you help yourself."
"More of your sage advice?" I sneer, stumbling to my feet. "Fine. I'll go to my suite, but you can't make me sleep."
"I think you'll fall right to bed once your head hits the pillow, but I will happily carry your ass back to your room if I catch you in the halls in less than eight hours. Got it?"
"Has anyone ever told you, you're an asshole?"
"Just you, princess."
I know Charlie is right. Ryker has said the same thing to me several times, but I can't let this go. There must be something I can do.
Taking immunosuppressants over time can cause a host of health problems and he may end up developing a dependency on them. With there being limited options: pills, liquids or by IV, he'd have to spend some part of his day accepting he'd never have full control over his body again. From vomiting, fatigue, diabetes, and weight gain to hair loss, acne, mouth sores and tremors.
I'd never understood how much organ recipients had to deal with. It hurts my heart. I can't imagine only helping Gatlin, but he's at the top of the list.
Charlie leads me to my suite. He doesn't speak, but I can feel his eyes scorch my profile every few minutes. But until I'm in my suite, I can continue to consider the issue at hand.
How do I correct his organ rejection? Or stave it off without the long term use of pharmaceutical drugs? And if I do solve it, how do I keep his body from rejecting the augmentation down the line?
What if this is only the beginning? What if this will only get worse and worse until there's nothing I can do? No.
I should never have gotten involved. Maybe I should have listened to Catrina and Levi. They could be right. They could have somehow guessed this procedure would go wrong.
"Hey!" Charlie taps my chin. "Get out of your head and get some sleep."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Hendrix." Rolling my eyes, I step away from the door. "Eight hours. Start the clock now, Iris."
Iris responds. "Eight hour timer set for Blue. How else may I help you, Guard Hendrix?"
"Can you order me a pizza with cheese, spinach, and tomatoes?"
"What kind of crust would you like?"
Their voices drift off into the distance when I door closes. Exhaustion drags my shoulder downward. I barely make it to the bed before my legs give out.
Sprawled across the tossed sheets, I close my eyes and imagine Gatlin's here with me. He's happy, whole and smiling at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
Sadly, it's nowhere near as wonderful as the real thing.
It's only been two weeks and I already miss his deep voice, his annoying, overbearing protectiveness, and his passionate kisses. Desperately, I want his arms around him and his lips on mine. His tongue in my mouth and his cock inside of me.
We didn't have a single night where we could have...
The one thing Catrina wants and begged for is going to someone else. Someone she hates. Someone I can't even consider losing.
"Stop thinking about it, Blue," I mutter, forcing my body to move. "Charlie said to get some rest. Shower, sleep, and then we can look at this with fresh eyes."
I'm glad Charlie suggested sleep when I awake. He was right. It did put things into perspective.
After all, how did Catrina and Levi know what I was planning to do to Gatlin when we arrived? And who told them? Though neither has the clearance to engage the systems for augmentation on themselves or others, they do have access to the instruments.
And with a cursory glance at the logs, I discover the culprit with a plan meant to destroy everything I've built. Too bad for them, it didn't work, and even worse, I'll have to tell Ryker.
They'd done the worst thing imaginable. Not only had they hacked my systems to make me believe Gatlin went into organ failure, but they'd also added a coagulant to his blood to create blood clots—subsequently creating an actual organ rejection. Fucking idiots!
They could have killed him! And if he would have died... I would've...
Bursting out of the room, I shoot down the hall. Iris clocks me moving and alerts Charlie. His voice carries across the entire compound, but I don't care.
I can save him. And while I'm at it, I can cut ties with the one person who's willing to hurt someone else for their own benefit. Should I be ashamed when I say I'm happy to see them go?