Writer's Note- Thank you all for reading the story and remember to vote (wink wink nudge nudge).
Derrick, are you set up okay?" Mike called from the kitchen.
Once a week I had to do my magix dialysis. No matter how much magic I tried to use during the week, I still ended up having that full feeling I knew would precede the vomiting. It had been two weeks since I'd left the hospital and about a month and a half since Mike and I unofficially started dating. Is that what this was? Was this a relationship?
I didn't feel comfortable doing my dialysis while Mike was around, it made me feel an inexplicable sense of guilt. The nurses had taught me the best way to hook myself to an IV, and they'd taught Mike, too. In case I became too weak to do it myself, although I hadn't reached that point yet. Every time I stabbed myself with a needle I felt like a drug addict. When I said as much, Mike just started to look sad, so I learned to stop making jokes.
He'd been trying so hard lately, too. Baking everyday. I mean, okay, maybe the guy was a little obsessed and this coping mechanism was getting a little out of hand, but we all handled stress differently.
I pricked myself with the needle, hooking up my arm to the IV. Fuck, I almost got a little high when all the magic content started flowing into the bag, that's how good it felt to not feel full. I only had to stay plugged for about two hours, staying still that long would be okay.
Mike came into the living room with a tray of cookies and a bowl of popcorn. He ended up buying a tv without me, wall mounted with surround sound speakers and everything. Mike installed it for me while I was still in the hospital getting stitched back together.
Luciana and Dr. Song had performed a surgery to give me an artificial vein for magic content to flow through to facilitate my magix dialysis. It was weird suddenly having a new vein in my left arm, my tattoos seemed to be attracted to it, constant leaves materializing across my skin.
I picked up and chewed on a cookie, wondering how Mike knew all these recipes, and everything he made I loved. I watched as he cycled through netflix. We weren't sure if we wanted to watch a trashy reality tv show or an animated film.
"We need to talk." I said, interrupting Mike as he tried to make a decision.
His face fell and he pressed his fingers into his thighs for a moment. The nervousness took me aback and I realized my poor word choice.
"I mean-" I gestured with my free arm, pointing to a tray of cookies, "The baking, Mike. You've got to cut down."
He let out a relieved laugh, pushing his hands through his hair, "This is about the baking?" He leaned closer, twirling a hand in my hair for a moment, making an endearing expression.
I poked him in the arm, "Don't distract me with your fingers," I said smiling, "This is serious."
Mike smiled, lowering his gaze to my mouth, "How serious?" He teased me then, kissing me on the cheek, "I'm not allowed to like sweet things?"
I shifted for a moment, kissing him and forgetting about my IV bag. I lost a hand in Mike's hair and he cupped my face as he deepened the kiss. I'm not embarrassed to say I moaned a little bit. Mike pulled me up into his lap and I straddled his waist. "Fuck-" I said, getting tangled in my iv, "This isn't hot anymore."
Mike laughed, helping me straighten out my tubes, "But it's kind of cute, right?"
I shook my head, "I don't feel cute."
Mike kissed my neck, "I always think you're cute," he murmured against my cheek trailing kisses from my jaw to my throat.
I flinched for a moment, remembering hands wrapped around my throat, pressing harder and harder. I gasped, and Mike moved back, something like worry coursing across his face, "Is something wrong?"
I pushed myself off of Mike's lap, scooting to the other end of the couch and resting my feet on his thighs, "no."
Mike tilted his head, waiting for me to reply.
I rubbed the back of my neck, "I just-" I tilted my head, "Can't you just-" I stopped and started over, "I just remembered a few things from-" I gestured vaguely looking down, "-before..."
Mike paused, "Like what?" Noticing my hesitation he reached to touch the back of my neck.
Without thinking I shrugged away his touch, pulling my legs against my chest, "Don't-" I said breathing heavily, "-Don't touch my neck."
Understanding dawned on Mike's face, he curled back his outstretched hand and palmed his chest awkwardly, "Oh, that's what you remembered...So, how much exactly-"
I was beginning to feel less full so I unplugged myself from the machine, noisily. I'd do the rest later. I got up and put my sac into a cooler in the fridge meant for my magic fluids. I wiped down my arm with a cloth, pushing the IV stand into an unobtrusive corner.
I fingered the small needle marks on my wrist, wondering when and if those would heal, "I remembered feeling like- feeling like I was going to die." My vision blurred and a tear slid down my face, "I really thought he was going to kill me. And no one was there. I was just-just going to end up like some- goddamn statistic, some kid going in and out of the system with so much anger and no one to turn to, and Miranda just wouldn't listen. Why couldn't she-" I broke off on a sob, hunching my shoulders, "Why couldn't she just listen to me when I said I needed to get out of there?"
Mike came in front of me, giving me a hug, "Derrick, cariño, you aren't a statistic, okay?" he stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, holding my face. "Miranda wasn't good at her job, that's true. But after that Detective. Patel got you a good home. You started going to therapy, you got less angry. You started painting, really turning things around." Mike kissed me softly on the mouth, "You're so amazing Derrick." he said in between kissing my tears away, "I lo-"
I moved out of his grasp, feeling my face redden, "Uhm-" I looked for a tissue, dabbing at my eyes, blowing my nose and throwing it out. I looked at Mike and then away, God this was awkward. "Uhm-" I said, looking at Mike, "I need to say something."
I skirted around the couch, flexing a hand, just finding a way to fidget. I sat down and Mike sat beside me, body heat radiating into and through me.
Mike started talking before me, "You don't want me to say 'I lo-'"
"Agh!" I groaned, raising a hand up and covering my face, "Don't say that."
Mike lowered his lashes for a moment, eyes fixated on my mouth, "I don't have to say it for it to be true. And if you aren't ready to say it back yet, that's okay." But I couldn't help but notice a trace of disappointment in Mike's tone.
I opened my mouth to say something, and I saw the hope die in Mike's eyes when I closed it. I reached around Mike awkwardly for the remote, randomly choosing something and turning up the volume.
#
"What's wrong with me?" I was lying on the Persian carpet in Dr.Rutherford's office. Somehow I slipped down onto the floor and couldn't bother getting back up.
"Nothings wrong with you, Derrick." Dr.Rutherford gave an automatic reply, eating into some cookies Mike had given her. It was the first time I'd ever seen her eat something. It made her seem more human.
"He was about to say he loved me." I said, running my fingers through the carpet like some kind of pseudo snow angel, "And I interrupted him. Like a fucking asshole."
"Why did you interrupt him Derrick if you felt like he was going to tell you something important? Are you not ready to take your relationship to the next level?"
I made a noise at the back of my throat, unable to verbalize how I felt, "Mike is just so- and I'm so-, y'kno?"
"Absolutely Derrick-" she took a moment to chew, "-How does he get the cookies so soft and chewy? Is it the recipe? Does he use magic?"
I sat up from the floor, just looking at Dr. Rutherford.
She had the decency to blush, "Sorry. Do go on."
I sighed, "I don't know where I was."
"Well, Derrick, you've spent the past forty-seven minutes becoming very well acquainted with my carpet, talking about your inability to reconcile yourself with your feelings. Those surrounding your sexuality and those surrounding Mike. The man who made these amazing cookies and who you haven't called your boyfriend or partner at all." she dusted off her hands and took out a random hand wipe, cleaning her fingers, "So let's start over for a sec. Okay, Derrick? What do you really think of Mike?" *
I swallowed, throwing myself back on the carpet, "I like the way he laughs, soft, you know? Kind of like a hug. I just get a little lost sometimes in the sound. And sometimes I feel like maybe he's laughing at me, not in a mean way. But like, no matter what I do...He can find the humour in it. And he's so smart, I don't even know how- I asked him 12 times 47 once and he gave me the right answer. He's such a nerd-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "But he's too nice. Like some kind of six foot three Mother Teresa, and he's-" I frowned beginning to twist my hands together, "he's too good for me."
Dr.Rutherford made a sad expression, "Is that how you really feel Derrick?"
I ran my hands through my hair, "Yeah. I'm starting to remember bits and pieces of-" my throat closed and it took me a moment to breathe again, "Before." I sat up abruptly, crossing my legs and staring at Dr.Rutherford, "And-" I realized something, "-You knew didn't you?"
She inhaled softly, clasping her hands together, "I felt that-"
I waved her response away, "You knew I was such a fuck up." I shook my head in frustration feeling my stomach lurch uncomfortably, "And every time I look at him-" I tried to talk around the stone in my throat, "I don't understand what he sees in me. And if-" I looked up at the ceiling, willing my tears away, "And if he tells me he loves me...What am I supposed to say to that?" I stood up, pacing the room, ignoring the way the walls spun.
"Well-" Dr. Rutherford began, crossing one leg over the other, "You say you love him back."
I scoffed at that, "I don't-"
"You do." she said softly, "You do love him Derrick, and you're insecure because you think you're unlovable."
"I just can't stand him," I said quietly, "I hate how he makes me feel. A part of me still- Still finds him annoying-" I circled a piece of carpet with a finger, "All the muscle, his smile...Why is he so tall? Why do I find him so pretty if he's masculine? Why do I want him closer every day? Why do I feel bad when I eat the cookie dough even though he planned on making cookies? I don't-" I squeezed my eyes closed, "I don't understand how he could like me enough to say something like- like that? I mean, I was just getting around the idea of him like-liking me and now he just throws the L word at me? I'm not- I wasn't ready. And we haven't even slept together slept together yet. How could he say those words to me?" I began to sound accusatory, and breathless my tongue feeling thick and foreign in my mouth.
"Are you feeling overwhelmed Derrick?" Dr.Rutherford said.
"Ofcourse I'm feeling overwhelmed." I snapped, "I can't do this. I can't be in a relationship with someone who actually cares about me."
"Then who are you supposed to be in a relationship with?"
"No one. I don't know how to reciprocate-"
"You can't learn?"
"I can't-"
"And how would that make Mike feel?"
"I don't know-" I said, clasping and unclasping my hands together, "I don't know, Janet!"
Dr. Rutherford seemed surprised I knew her first name, but really I was disappointed it was so mundane.
She paused for a moment, scratching her head, "I think you need to take a deep breath, okay, Derrick?"
I sighed.
"I didn't hear you inhale."
I inhaled sharply.
"I think you're feeling anxious about a lot of things and the best way to work through it would be to consult Mike, since he's the person a lot of this is surrounding."
I opened my mouth but she continued speaking, holding up a hand.
"Just make a list of things you want to discuss and listen to him when he responds to you. I can guarantee you, a lot of your fears are unfounded."
#
When I got home later that night Mike was making some kind of funky casserole. He'd started making small portions whenever he baked or cooked since he was doing it so often.
I slipped off my shoes, changed and threw myself on the couch wheeling my IV over to the couch and looking for a vein with which to start draining magic content from. I put the tube down for a moment, going into the kitchen and seeing Mike decorating a tower of cupcakes.
He smiled when he saw me, continuing the icing. He licked his lips before he started talking, "I know you don't really like surprises but we never got to celebrate you coming home from the hospital. I made your favourite; chocolate cheesecake with cream cheese -"
I took a deep breath, walking towards Mike and interrupting him because if I didn't say it now I don't think I ever would, "I think I love you." I swallowed, "And I know I'm- I'm kind of a mess right now, but I'm working on it and I think I love you." I rubbed a thumb across my collarbone, just staring at Mike, "And, I know it's crazy since I'm crazy and this is crazy but yeah I just-"
I wasn't sure when Mike put the icing bag down but suddenly he was kissing me and I was kissing him. He was giving me an open mouthed kiss, losing his hands in my hair as he spoke between kisses, "Of course you aren't crazy. If I'm crazy for loving you, Derrick, I don't want to be sane. **" I slid my hands across his chest slowly, just enjoying feeling close to him. My hands soon found their way under his shirt, feeling across the smooth expanse of skin. Mike groaned delightfully and he stopped kissing me for a moment.
"Did you hear that?" he said softly.
I opened my eyes, just watching Mike's mouth, "What?"
"Someone's knocking-"
"Can't we just- you know- ignore it?" God, why did his lips look so kissable?
But then I started to hear it, too. Something like pounding almost rattling the doorframe. I went out of the kitchen walking to the door.
"Derrick-" Mike bit off, sounding worried.
"It's fine-" I said, walking towards the door as it split in two and the hinges flew off.
#
Writer's Note -
* How Dr.Rutherford is looking at Derrrick ->
** this line felt so corny when I wrote it.
Did I do a good job with the romantic gestures in this chapter?
Any moments you especially liked, or anything you'd like to see more of?