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Once we’re at a steady cruising altitude, Scotch unbuckles and disappears into the back of the plane.
The scent of soap surrounds him when he returns. Good, strong soap. And I know he’s washed his hands because he’s going to work on my wound.
He unloads his pockets, sitting the medical supplies on the small table next to us. “Let’s get some pain medication on you.”
I watch as he unbuttons my shirt, pushes my sling aside and exposes my wound from below the bandage.
With care, he applies more of the muddy-looking gunk using the special wooden stick the medical man provided. A clean bandage is applied. The sling fitted once again.
As the pain starts to ease, I finally feel like talking. “You gave me your blood?”
“I did.”
“What does that mean to you?”
His eyes lift to mine. “It means I gave you my blood.”
“How do you feel about knowing your lifeblood is circulating in my body?”
He seems to consider that for a few minutes as he puts the supplies back into his pockets. “It feels like service. Part of what I am committed to as a doctor.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“You’ve never given blood?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“It’s a really powerful gift to give.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
He leans back in the seat, turns his head toward me. “How do you feel about it? About having part of me inside of your veins?”
I let my eyes drift closed for a second as I feel the warmth inside of my body. “Grateful, first.” I take a long, slow breath, soaking in the relief of being safe, on the plane, on my way home. Alive. “And, somehow, it feels intimate. Which is kind of crazy, I know.” I laugh lightly. “I’m sure you’ve given blood to others. Even other soldiers, so I know what I’m saying sounds nutty.”
Scotch catches the hand I’ve been waving around as I talk, he pulls it across until it’s caught against his chest, right over his heart. “Knowing it is there, in you, feels different for me too.”
I stare at him as my heart rages and tries to escape. “You can’t be getting the feels for me, Doctor. I’m not the catching type.”
We’re locked, staring at each other for a long, long minute. Then he laughs. “I’ve always felt the same about myself. I’m not relationship material.”
“Well, that’s another thing we have in common. On top of the fact that we both like empanadas. We both lived all over. And we both share the same blood, now.”
He swallows roughly and lets some kind of deeper emotion show on his face. My insides warm up even more and my heart feels like it grows behind my ribcage.
I’d like to blame it on the medication, but somehow, I worry this is far deeper than a buzz.
Which is a lot harder to solve than washing some salve off.
The hiss of the air purification system and jet engines surrounds us. And I can’t pull my eyes away. His heart beats steadily but hard below my palm. “What’s going on in there?”
“Something I’m not familiar with.”
We sit like that for far too long, as turbulence bumps the jet around, with me feeling that strong pulse, knowing the rhythm of my own has decided to pace along.
He pushes a stray lock of my hair back behind my ear. “Where will you spend your recovery?”
Tension unfurls in my belly. This is what I was thinking about while he was gone earlier. “I don’t know. If Pavel saw me, I have a strange feeling he’s going to be hunting for me. Something just doesn’t add up. And I’ve learned a long time ago to trust that instinct. I think it’s a bad idea to go back to my place. Not that it was really much of a place. Just a cheap rented studio. My belongings could fit in a couple of duffel bags.”
