by Peyton Bogue
“You okay?” Rhys asks him warily, his beautiful face pulled down into a concerned frown.
“Yeah,” Sage replies, nodding. “I just got a little dizzy.”
“Do you want me to carry you?” Rhys asks immediately. His hands tighten on Sage’s shoulders, and Sage gives him a soft smile.
“I’m okay, Ree,” he replies, moving his good hand off of the car door to grab at Rhys’s bicep. He squeezes it lightly in reassurance. “I can walk.”
Rhys’s eyes briefly flicker behind himself towards the entrance of their brownstone before he looks back at Sage with furrowed eyes. “There are a lot of stairs, baby,” he says, his voice soft yet somber. “You might get too tired climbing them, sweetheart. I don’t want you to fall. It’ll be faster and safer if I carry you.”
“What?” Sage asks, trying to give Rhys a teasing grin. He doesn’t want to be any more of a burden than he already knows he is. “Do you have something better to do than to help me climb up a few stairs?”
He tries to sound lighthearted, but Rhys must catch the slight waver in his voice. He shakes his head quickly, his stoic face pinched.
“No, baby,” he says soothingly. “I don’t want you to exert yourself too much. You’re barely back on your feet, sweetheart.”
“I can do it,” Sage says, shaking his head stubbornly.
“I know you can,” Rhys agrees, nodding. “But the sooner we get up there, the sooner you can go back to sleep. I know how tired you are.”
Sage narrows his eyes at Rhys. “You’re tired, too. You may be completely fine now, but you barely slept at the hospital, Ree. And you weren’t sleeping before that, either. You need to sleep, too.”
“Okay,” Rhys says easily. “We can take a nap together.” Sage nods at him, and Rhys moves his hands down to Sage’s elbows, careful not to put too much pressure on the arm Sage has in the sling. “What if I carried you up the steps, and then you walked to our door? Would that be okay?”
Sage bites his lip, thinking it over briefly. He doesn’t want to inconvenience Rhys in any way, but Rhys seems pretty decided on not letting Sage climb up all of their stairs. There isn’t an elevator in their brownstone, and at times like these, Sage really wishes that there was one. He can’t say that he’s really looking forward to climbing up four flights of stairs to get to their apartment, so he sighs. He gives Rhys a nod, and Rhys’s frown disappears as he smiles softly, and Sage shakes his head fondly as Rhys moves to close the car door and lock Kai’s car.
He helps Sage cross the street, and they do so very slowly, but Rhys doesn’t look anything but content as they finally take the few steps up towards the entrance of their brownstone. Once they are inside, Rhys briefly glances around the small lobby and tilts his head to the side, and when he doesn’t see anyone or hear anything, he quickly but gently hooks his arm underneath Sage’s legs as he rests his hand on Sage’s back and lifts Sage up into his arms in one smooth motion. Sage wraps his good arm around Rhys’s neck, trying to fight the blush on his cheeks as Rhys gives him another affectionate smile.
He isn’t really embarrassed or chagrined, but Sage can't help but feel as though he's a small child. He hates that he needs to be taken care of this way.
Rhys kisses his forehead, walking easily towards the bottom of the stairs as if supporting all of Sage’s weight doesn’t even faze him, and, honestly, it probably doesn’t. He looks perfectly at ease as he tightens his hold on Sage, gives him another soft smile, and proceeds to vanish up the stairs.
One moment, Rhys is taking a step forward to start climbing the steps, and then suddenly they're at the top of the fourth floor in less than a second. Sage gasps lightly and tightens his arm around Rhys’s neck instinctively, his heart racing. He calms only a second later, relaxing back against Rhys’s chest. He’d forgotten how fast Rhys moves sometimes. His preternatural werewolf abilities extend to his speed, too.
Rhys looks over him briefly before he gently starts to lower Sage onto his feet, and Sage feels momentarily lightheaded again as he keeps his arm around Rhys’s neck. Rhys’s hands gently grab at his sides to settle him, and he gives Sage another concerned look, but Sage just shakes his head.
Sage takes a tentative step forward, and Rhys goes with him. Sage feels better now, and he’s almost certain that he’s not going to fall over, but Rhys’s hands remain at his sides and Sage keeps his arm around Rhys’s neck. Together, they walk the next few feet towards their front door, and Rhys reaches his hand out quickly and twists the door handle before he pushes it open. They walk through smoothly, and Sage’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees all of the flowers from his hospital room sitting on their dining room table.
Kai is sitting on their sofa, giving Sage an encouraging smile when Rhys maneuvers him to sit on the couch. Once he’s situated, Sage glances back at the dining room table and shakes his head in disbelief. He didn’t realize how many bouquets Mikalina and Hazel, and some other detectives from the precinct, had gotten him. The small floral shop of his hospital room had been nothing compared to seeing all of them covering every spare inch of he and Rhys’s dining room table.
The roses Rhys had gotten him for the masquerade are still on the counter, Sage notices, and Sage gives a soft chuckle when he catches sight of them. The bright hue of the flowers contrasts nicely with the dark color of the brick, and they’re still blooming steadily despite having been more than a week old.
Rhys hadn’t brought him flowers while Sage was in the hospital, which he’d repeatedly apologized for, much to Sage’s amusement. Rhys had told him somewhat dejectedly that he’d been too worried and stressed about leaving Sage’s side for anything, much less to walk down to the gift shop and buy him an overpriced bundle of cheap flowers. Sage had just laughed and assured him that he didn’t need flowers from Rhys; all he needed was for Rhys to be at his side—safe, happy, and alive.
“You feeling okay, man?” Kai asks him, and Sage gives him a wide-eyed look, momentarily thrown by the question, having not realized that he was spiraling again, before he nods.
“Yeah,” he replies. “I’m just feeling a little tired and woozy.”
“Okay,” Kai says, nodding acceptingly. “I’ll let you rest. Call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll come by here tomorrow to see how you’re feeling.”
Sage nods. “Okay. Thank you for everything, Kai,” he says honestly, giving him a smile.
Kai grins. “Of course, man. You’re welcome. I’ll see you later. Rhys,” he calls, and Rhys emerges from the hallway as he walks into the living room, giving Kai a questioning look. Sage hadn’t even realized that Rhys wasn’t beside him anymore. “Take care of him,” Kai continues, giving Rhys a pointed look. “If I come back here tomorrow and he’s frothing at the mouth, I’m calling Animal Control to come wrangle your wolfy ass.”
Sage chuckles, and Rhys rolls his eyes.
“I’ve got him, Kai,” Rhys replies, and Kai’s expression immediately shifts into a fond one.
“I know,” Kai says, grinning. “I mean it, though; if you guys need anything, call me. Get some rest, Sage. You, too, Rhys. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“See you, Kai,” Sage says, bringing his good arm up to wrap loosely around Kai’s neck when Kai leans down for a quick hug. Kai gives him a parting pat on the shoulder, shoots Rhys another pointed look, and then leaves quietly with a quick See you tomorrow, guys!
“I’m going to strangle him with my claws if he doesn’t stop with his werewolf jokes,” Rhys says after a beat of silence, and Sage chuckles at him, closing his eyes as he leans back against the couch cushions.
“He does seem pretty fond of them,” he agrees.
Sage hears Rhys step in front of him, and then a second later, his feverishly hot hands gently stroke over Sage’s face as he crouches down. Sage opens his eyes, giving Rhys a tired grin.
“Come on,” Rhys says, his voice soft. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“Okay,” Sage mumbles, closing his eyes again as he
nuzzles into the warmth of Rhys’s hands.
“Not here,” Rhys says, chuckling. Sage grins at the laughter in his voice. Rhys’s hands trails down Sage's body to gently grasp at his thighs, and Sage moves his good arm around Rhys’s neck again as he braces himself. Rhys lifts him up easily, and he quickly walks Sage into their bedroom before he softly lays him down on top of their bed.
Their bed is already unmade, and Sage guesses Rhys must have done that when Rhys had left him on the couch with Kai. Sage smiles, pressing his lips against Rhys’s warm cheekbone before he drops his arm from around Rhys’s neck, relaxing against the mattress.
Rhys tilts his head down to press a soft kiss to Sage’s lips, and when he pulls back, Sage smiles up at hi sleepily. He shifts on the bed, trying to move into a better position, and brings his hand around his neck to unhook the sling. He’s alright with sleeping with the brace on, but the sling is uncomfortable, and he really wants it off.
He tosses it onto his nightstand and nestles back into the bed again. He’s wearing sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt, comfy clothes, so he figures he’s alright to settle in for a nap. Next to him, Rhys sits onto their bed, pulling his shirt off like he always does when he sleeps, before he lays down next to Sage.
Something shiny catches Sage’s gaze as Rhys relaxes against his pillow, and Sage turns to him slowly, reaching his good hand out to gently grasp his own dog tags that are hanging around Rhys’s neck.
“I didn’t know if I’d see these again,” Sage says, his mouth suddenly dry. He rubs his thumb along the raised metal, and one of Rhys’s hands comes up to rest on Sage’s ribs. “Steele told me that he’d ripped them off of my neck.”
“I found them,” Rhys tells him, running his palm over Sage’s side in small circles. He’s quiet for a second, watching Sage’s face. Sage doesn’t look at him, just continues to stare at the metal between his fingertips. “I was going to give them back to you. I promise. Do you want them back right now?”
Sage takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “No,” he says, swallowing slowly. “They look good on you.”
Rhys inhales sharply. “Baby, they’re yours.”
“I know,” Sage says quietly. “I want you to keep them.” He pauses, clenching his jaw. “You know. . .” he trails off, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Steele asked me why I still wore them. He knew that I didn’t like thinking about Afghanistan, and he asked me why I would keep wearing them when all they were to me was a constant reminder of a time where I’d given up hope. The real reason I wear them is because they remind me to always keep fighting. They remind me that there’s always something to fight for.” He pauses again, exhaling slowly. “There isn’t anything in my life that I’d rather fight for than you. I won’t ever stop fighting for you.”
“Sage,” Rhys says, his voice thick with emotion.
“Why don’t you hold onto them for me?” Sage asks, finally meeting Rhys’s gaze. “They really do look good on you.”
Rhys looks into Sage's eyes deeply, his stoic face serious and morose, but he nods, shuffling forward and placing another soft kiss on Sage’s lips. “Okay,” he whispers against Sage’s mouth, nodding again. “I’ll wear them for you.”
Sage gives his own nod, and Rhys leans his face up and gently kisses his forehead. “Let’s go to sleep, sweetheart,” he says, so quiet and soothing, even as his voice wavers slightly.
Sage smiles at him, nodding again as he feels Rhys pull their comforter over their bodies. He nuzzles into his pillow, shifting closer to the warmth of Rhys’s chest, and closes his eyes.
He’s asleep only seconds later.
◆◆◆
The week that follows Sage’s release from the hospital is mostly filled with boredom and a lot of cuddling.
Rhys doesn’t leave Sage’s side for days after Sage gets home. They spend the majority of their time in bed together, watching movies and catching up on their favorite T.V. shows. Sage’s medication makes him tired all the time, and he quickly finds that once his body stops moving for a few minutes, he’s prone to falling asleep almost anywhere in their apartment. He’d even almost fallen asleep in the shower the day after he’d returned home, and Rhys had promptly panicked and hopped underneath the spray to stop Sage from falling over, afraid that Sage was beginning to faint.
So, Sage isn’t entirely aware of what happens around him for the remainder of the week. Kai comes over the next day after Sage and Rhys have woken up, just like he promised he would, and spends the rest of the day sitting on the sofa opposite Sage and Rhys while they all watch T.V. together in the living room. Sage sleeps for pretty much the entire day, laying on top of Rhys or laying his head in Rhys’s lap, but neither Rhys nor Kai call him out for it, and they both seem completely content to carry on any conversations they were having without him or even go into the kitchen and fix something for him to eat when he inevitably wakes after a few hours to an empty stomach.
It takes another few days for Rhys to feel comfortable leaving Sage alone in their brownstone for longer than a few minutes. Every time Rhys has to go out to the grocery store or needs to go check up on something at his garage, he always calls Kai to come stay with Sage for however long he’s going to be gone. After Kai sheepishly, and unintentionally, admits that he’s supposed to be at work that day and that he’s been pulled away from the precinct twice now to stay with Sage, Sage corners Rhys and tells him that he is fine and perfectly capable of staying by himself for a few hours, and that Rhys needs to leave Kai alone. Rhys doesn’t look happy about leaving Sage alone the next time he has to go down to his garage to fix someone’s broken radiator hose, but after Sage assures him that he’s most likely going to sleep the entire time that Rhys is gone and will call if he starts to feel bad again, Rhys leaves without any arguing, even though Sage can tell that he’s incredibly reluctant to do so.
After the first week passes, Sage finally starts to gain back some of his mobility and is able to stay awake for more than a few hours a day. His pain has significantly decreased, and he thinks his body is finally actually beginning to heal itself with the help of whatever it is that Rhys did to stop Steele’s bite. He tries to convince Rhys that he’s fine, too, that he’s ready to talk about whatever it is that Rhys needs to tell him, but Rhys just continues to avoid any questions Sage throws at him. He always changes the subject whenever Sage brings up their conversation from the hospital. He’ll stall Sage’s questions in other ways, too, whenever he thinks that Sage is being particularly pushy that day and doesn’t want to refuse Sage a second time. For as many times as Rhys finds himself gently refusing to tell Sage anything related to what he’d hinted at in the hospital, he can’t bring himself to tell Sage ‘no’ twice. If attempting to change the subject fails, Rhys will start to rub the tired muscles of Sage’s back, or massage his thighs and calves, or press soft kisses into Sage’s throat until Sage forgets what he was even talking about in the first place.
That part always comes, too. As soon as Rhys puts his hands on Sage or starts to gently kiss over the fading marks on his neck, Sage loses his train of thought. He can’t focus on what he’s trying to say when Rhys touches him like that.
Which is exactly what Rhys wants, Sage thinks, because he does it nearly all the time now.
Rhys will gently coax Sage to lay on top of him while they lay in bed together and just soothingly run his hands over Sage’s back for hours. If they're on the couch, Rhys will rub at Sage's shoulders and kiss over the wounds on Sage's neck whenever Sage starts talking about bites and things Steele said to him. It never fails to get Sage pliant in Rhys’s arms, or make him completely relaxed enough that he starts to drift off again. Even though Sage knows what Rhys is doing, knows that Rhys is stalling him this way so that he doesn’t have to answer anything yet, he never once stops Rhys or argues with him. Sage has never once claimed that he’s some paramount of control. He’s not made of steel. He’s not strong enough to stop himself from wanting Rhys’s hands on him at all times. Feelin
g Rhys’s gentle touch has always been one of Sage’s biggest weaknesses.
Two and a half weeks after he’s been released from the hospital, though, Sage decides that he’s had enough. Rhys is still reading through his mother’s journals vigorously, and no matter how much Sage tries to plead with him, he’s still not really sleeping. Rhys still isn’t showing signs of exhaustion, but he gets a pinched look on his face whenever he thinks that Sage isn’t looking at him. The shadows of his face seem to permanently darken his brooding scowl, and sometimes, Sage thinks that he can see pain lurking beneath Rhys’s eyes, a haunted glint that he tries to hide whenever he catches Sage looking at him, as if he’s still afraid, still so on guard and tense even when there isn’t anything too pressing to be scared about anymore. Sage is tired of being kept in the dark, and he hates that look on Rhys’s face. Nothing should be making Rhys look that way ever again. Not Steele, not Kharkovy, and especially not Sage.
Sage has just woken up from yet another nap when he finds Rhys on the couch that evening. He may be finally regaining his strength, but he still gets worn out on days where he’s more readily active and busy. Especially after today, when Sage had finally been able to talk Rhys into letting him go down the street to the grocery store with him.
They’d gotten back an hour ago, and Sage had gently asked Rhys to lay with him in their bed, but when Sage looks over to Rhys’s side, he finds it empty. Sage quickly pulls himself up and walks slowly out of their bedroom.
Rhys is shirtless and flipping through one of his mother’s journals and biting his bottom lip when Sage walks into the living room. He’s engrossed in whatever he’s reading, but his eyes immediately snap up to Sage’s when he hears Sage come into the room. Sage groans lightly as he leans against the doorway, needing to lean against it to help support himself. He’s still slightly disoriented from just waking up, and Rhys quickly shuts the journal in his hands as he stands, moving to Sage’s side before Sage can even make another sound.