Onus 07

In the morning, with Burns, and now here. Only here with Shiloh, he couldn't stop. He told Shiloh, and it was like drawing out a splinter. It hurt. Jesus Christ, did it hurt.

But it needed to come out.

Shy was writing again. Is that why you became a surgeon?

"More or less." Shiloh hadn't asked, but it was already on Sam's mind. He had already told one person. "I didn't get speech therapy until I could finally afford it. The reason we could afford it at all was because of my great uncle, the man who built the house. He offered to give us the money... But only... B-But only if—"

Shiloh was writing. Left-handed. His right hand was his dominant hand, but Sam was holding the right hand.

The writing was lopsided and childish. So different from his neat (if shaky) penmanship.

What was their name?

He knew. Of course he knew. Who else would know more about the lost and abandoned?

"Her name was Jude." The memories came flooding back. Fragments. Like fragments of glass, the memories drew blood. "After my great uncle took her away, everything was better for us. I learned to speak. They fixed the hole in my face. I was able to go to medical school. We lived in a house, not a tenement. For the first time, we had prospects. I had a future.

"All we needed to do was throw her away. Like a piece of t-trash."

Sam felt his throat burning, thickening. The corners of his mouth trembled with the strain of keeping it closed, keeping it still. His stomach throbbed like a wound. His teeth tasted like blood and his throat worked over and over, swallowing that hurt.

He couldn't see the hand coming. His left eye was closed, his right was veiled. He flinched at the first brush. Shy turned his head with gentle pressure, turned to face him.

Sam didn't open his eye, but he could feel the taut muscles around his eyes and mouth go slack. He felt something rising up through his chest like gorge. He could feel the sound in the back of his eyes. Feel the low groan before it dripped between his teeth. The sound was coarse, unrecognizable as human.

Sam could feel Shiloh's hand rising. Hear the minute scrape of skin over cloth. Until those slim fingers wove into his hair, cupped the patched side of his head. Pulling him closer.

He felt the young Onus kiss him at the center of his forehead. He could only feel half of those soft lips. The other half was only a featherlight touch through the silk of his patch.

Then Shy was leaning back further. Sam allowed himself to be pulled. He folded his legs up, and suddenly they were lying on the couch. His head was cradled to Shy's chest, and he didn't need a stethoscope to hear the beat of the young man's heart.

"Shh." Shiloh whispered into his ear. "Shh..."

"I'm... I'm s-so, sah-sorry." He moaned.

Who is the doctor now? Sam wondered, as he trembled with anguish and more than a little self-loathing. How long had it been? How long had it been since he really let everything out?

Not since his mother still lived.

He reached up and peeled off the patch. No one saw him without it. Not other doctors. Not his colleagues. The skin felt naked and exposed in the air. As if the shiny pitted burn was still raw.

He opened his eyes. Both of them. Even the one that saw nothing but grey fog.

"You don't... ssssay sorry... to me." Shy's voice was a husky whisper. His palm was like soft fire against the scarred ruin of his cheek. "No... need."

Sam could only remember Shiloh talking about his past one time. Even then, it had been the barest mention.

Shy had never said so many words before. He talked very slowly. But the longer he spoke, the better he spoke. "You saved her. My mama. You don't know about Jude, but you saved her. You saved a lot of women."

Sam felt the familiar protests and platitudes rising on his tongue. Marion Kinicke and a team of other scientists and doctors had helped him. Two thirds of Onus mothers had already been deceased. The work itself had claimed hundreds of victims after testing restrictions had been lifted for expediency.

Shy seemed to sense the arguments, and he hugged Sam fiercely, cutting him off, muffling his mouth against his sweater-clad chest. "The Onus rec... recogni-tion act. The mobiles. The field hospital. Me."

Sam could feel smooth unbroken skin against the right side of his face. Shy was closer to him than ever before, nuzzling against him. "You've been saving Jude, again and again. As many times as it takes."

Shy kissed his brow again, and this time he could feel the whole of that soft touch. "So forgive yourself. You... deserve it."

It was something that many people had told him. But until now, it never felt right. It never felt true.

Something inside him unclenched, dissolved, broke away. And he felt light as a ghost.

Only Shiloh's arms tethered him to earth.

-------

Whenever the next chapter happens, I promise, it will be earthshaking.

Also, I'm working on a third chapter to Firecracker. After the glacial trainwrecks of Onus and Tenderness and AatEotW, I'm writing Firecracker so the stories connect, but each chapter is fairly self-contained. A longer novella in itself. If you are (reasonably) afraid of getting burned by my stories, I promise that Firecracker-while unfinished-isn't such a pain in the ass to wait for.

As always, even if it takes my entire goddamn life. I will finish everything that I start.

I Keep My Promises

Kisses and Spanks,

-Cruel