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“Hey.” Garin’s warm hand covered his own. “I’m alright. It’s not the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better!” Sazahk snapped, and he winced at the harshness of his own tone echoing in the small room and Garin’s stunned expression. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Garin recovered and laced his fingers with Sazahk’s. He stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t yell at you.” Sazahk brought his other hand to the bed to hold Garin’s in both of his. “You’ve done nothing wrong, and I understand the risks of your profession and why you’ve chosen it and I have no right to disapprove.”
“Do you though?” Garin cocked his head. “Disapprove?”
Sazahk pressed his lips together and answered honestly. “I don’t think that violence suits you.”
Surprise passed over Garin’s face. “Really? Most people have disagreed. I’ve historically been pretty good at it.”
“Being good at it isn’t the same thing as it suiting you.” Sazahk pursed his lips. “I know individuals suited to violence. And I don’t consider that to reflect poorly on them. I think it is a useful skill and an important societal position to occupy.” Fal’ran and Patrick came to Sazahk’s mind. “And I know individuals for whom violence became a necessary part of their life that they adapted to, despite its unnaturalness.” Tar. “I believe you to be the second type.”
Garin huffed a breath through his nose and looked down at Sazahk’s hands holding his. “It wouldn’t be good for my professional reputation to admit, but I don’t think you’re wrong.” Garin cleared his throat. “I—” Then he coughed and swallowed. “Sorry, I need some water.”
“Of course.” Sazahk mentally scolded himself. Water should have been the first thing he’d thought of when Garin awoke, rather than a pointless examination. He spied a plastic pitcher and cup on the table against the far wall and grabbed it with a few of the flex metal tentacles tucked into the base of Garin’s hospital bed. “Here.”
“Thank—holy shit!” Garin reeled back when he saw the tentacles holding out the pitcher and cup for him. “Are those—” Garin whipped his head around to stare at Sazahk. “Do you have an implant?”
“I do.” Sazahk drew himself up tall and pulled more flex metal from the base of the bed, an embarrassingly proud grin tugging at his lips. He didn’t know why it pleased him so much to show Garin his returned power, but it did.
“That’s amazing.” Garin murmured, reaching for one. “May I?”
“Of course.” Sazahk swayed the tentacle closer.
“I’ve seen qesh do some things with their implants before, but it’s always been at a distance, and I’ve never seen such fine motor control.” Garin touched the tip of the tentacle, and Sazahk slithered it down his palm and wrapped it around his forearm, prompting a delighted laugh.
“Many qesh don’t have such a high-quality implant, my level of mental control, nor my access.” Sazahk crawled a second tentacle loosely up Garin’s other arm while a third poured the water from the pitcher into the cup.
Garin chuckled as he tried to untangle himself. “So, when you said you’ve been monitoring my vitals, you didn’t mean looking at a screen, did you?”
“No.” Sazahk released Garin so he could drink his water. “I’ve been having the readings delivered directly to my implant.”
Garin shuddered as he drained the cup of water, but he spluttered before he finished it and shoved the cup onto his side table, before turning his whole torso to face Sazahk. “Shit, you got your implant re-inserted.”
“Yes.” Sazahk frowned and waved a tentacle in front of himself. “That’s what we just discussed.”
“But, I mean, you underwent the procedure to get it inserted.” Garin grabbed Sazahk’s hand, and his green eyes filled with a concern that cracked something in Sazahk’s chest. “That must have been difficult.”
Sazahk lowered his tentacle as a lump formed in his throat. ‘Difficult’ didn’t fully encompass the experience. It didn’t even partially encompass it. Sazahk looked down at Garin’s hand, clutching his. “It was unpleasant.”
Garin’s other hand approached slowly enough for Sazahk to decide not to dodge it. He let Garin cup his cheek and lift his gaze up to meet his. “I can’t even imagine, Sazahk.”
“I wanted you,” Sazahk blurted without thinking.
Garin’s face slackened in shock and Sazahk wanted to reel the words back into his mouth, shocked as well that they’d escaped.
“That is, I felt an irrational certainty that the experience would have been less traumatically unpleasant if you had been present.” Sazahk cringed and turned his face into Garin’s palm, hiding the spots of gray he knew rose in his cheeks. “I don’t have a justification for that certainty. You wouldn’t have erased my memories of the past or prevented the flashbacks, but you—” Sazahk squeezed his eyes shut, more and more honesty spilling out with all the words Garin let him finish. “Most people would have interrupted me by now.”
Garin lifted his other hand to cup Sazahk’s jaw in both his palms. “I’ll never interrupt you, Sazahk.”
Sazahk met Garin’s green eyes and twisted his lips. “I’m sure there are life-or-death situations in which it would be beneficial for both of us for you to interrupt me.”
“This isn’t a life-or-death situation.” Garin twitched a smile, but his dark brows pulled down in a pained expression. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Sazahk.”
Sazahk couldn’t shake his head in Garin’s grasp, so he shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t think I needed you. And I wasn’t wrong exactly, I didn’t need you, but if I had known how I was going to feel, I—” Sazahk huffed. “I wouldn’t have stopped you from chasing Dom. It was the right thing to do.”
