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“Shit.” Maxwell pushed off the desk and grabbed Sebastian’s shoulder. “Do you feel safe?”
“What?” Sebastian recoiled with a frown. “What do you mean ‘do I feel safe’?”
Of course he felt safe; he was finally safe. He’d dragged himself through the mud and practically bled out in a ship to get here. But Maxwell’s serious gaze and the strength of his grip on his shoulder spiked his panic.
“Hess will try to keep you here,” Maxwell spoke low and urgently, and his fingers dug into Sebastian’s shoulder. “Do you want me to insist on taking you away?”
“Away? From Hess?” Sebastian yanked his shoulder free on some defensive instinct. “No! Why—”
But then the door opened, and Maxwell stepped back smoothly.
Hess glanced between them briefly, but his eyes settled on Sebastian the longest. Some of that rawness had returned, and when Sebastian twitched his lips in a small smile at Hess, Hess swallowed. Then Hess looked back at Maxwell. “Garrett’s here with the mattress.”
“Good.” Maxwell’s voice returned to its regular cadence, and Sebastian hid his confusion. Whatever had disturbed Maxwell, he didn’t want Hess to see it. Maxwell tilted his head at the remnants of Neumann still in the bed. “Help me get him into the gurney so we can get rid of him?”
Hess nodded and rolled up his shirt sleeves past his elbow. Despite—or maybe because of—his exhaustion, Sebastian found himself trailing his eyes along his leader’s muscular forearms with more than a passing admiration. Once the hands attached to said forearms looped under Neumann’s shoulders and lifted the squelching body off the soaked mattress, though, Sebastian quickly looked away again.
Hess and Maxwell got the body onto the gurney, and once Hess stepped out of the way, Maxwell started pushing it back into the hall. He stopped once he came abreast of Hess. “Sebastian is fine, but he needs rest. We have plenty of good beds in the medical wing.”
Hess shook his head before Maxwell finished his sentence. “He can stay. He’ll have my bed; I don’t need it.”
Maxwell sent Sebastian a loaded glance that Sebastian couldn’t interpret but nodded and continued pushing the gurney back into the hall. He turned back to Sebastian one last time before leaving. “Call for me if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Sebastian raised a hand in farewell. “Thanks for saving my life, Maxwell. As usual.”
“Anytime, Sebastian.”
Once he’d left, Hess stripped the sheets from the bed and tossed them out into the hallway. Then he heaved the mattress off the bed with a grunt.
Sebastian started to stand. “Here, let me—”
“No.” Hess waved him down without looking at him and pushed the mattress out the door. “Sit. I can do it.”
So Sebastian plopped back down in the chair and fidgeted with his fingers as he watched Hess come back into the room, holding a pile of clean linens. He’d be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t enjoying the show of Hess knocking the door closed with his boot and then setting about making the bed. Quiet, puttering, and domestic.
Hess had said the bed was for Sebastian, so for Hess to set it up for him was…sweet.
But a larger part of Sebastian couldn’t quite settle into the sweetness. He twisted his fingers around themselves and bounced his knee. Staring at the back of Hess’s head while Hess pulled the sheet straight, Sebastian felt more like he was being ignored and avoided than cared for. Isolated.
“I’m not tired,” Sebastian finally muttered with more petulance than he had intended.
Hess finished stuffing the pillow into its case, then set it on the bed and turned around slowly, his face impassive. “The doctor said you need rest.”
“Yeah, well, the doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Sebastian shoved himself to standing, swayed slightly, but managed to stay up without grabbing onto anything.
Hess nodded to the newly made bed behind him. “Try to lay down at least.”
“I don’t want to lay down.” Sebastian strode to the far side of the room and then spun on his heel and paced back. “I’m too…” Sebastian waved his hands in the air and clenched and unclenched his hands.
“Too what?”
“Too…” Sebastian made another series of complicated motions in the air as he did another lap of the room. “My muscles itch, but my claws ache.”
Hess cocked his head. “Your claws?”
“Yeah, my—” Sebastian waved to the nape of his neck, then flushed and shook his head. Hess didn’t want to think about his damn claws. He paced back and forth again. “Never mind.”
Hess crossed his arms with a frustrated growl. “Sebastian.”
