Static

by Witt, L. A.

  “Yeah.”

  “I can mute it.” With a click, the beeping ceased. “Better?”

  I released my breath. “God, yes. Thank you.”

  “Do you have someone who can drive you home after the procedure tomorrow?” The nurse glanced at Damon, then turned to me, eyebrows raised.

  I looked up at Damon.

  He cleared his throat and turned to the nurse. “Yeah, I can do that. When?”

  “Depends on when the procedure is scheduled. He’ll need to spend some time in recovery, but I would guess we can discharge him late in the afternoon. Give us a call in the morning, and we’ll let you know what time.”

  “Sure, yeah, I’ll be here.”

  A mix of relief and guilt twisted in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t deserting me, thank God, but was he staying out of pity? Obligation? I doubted he wanted to be the dick who ditched me while I was in the hospital in agony. Heaven knew he wouldn’t be the first to walk away after finding out what I was.

  Maybe that was why I’d never told him. Deep down, I knew he’d leave.

  “Alex?” The nurse’s voice pulled me back into the present.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I asked if you’d eaten anything in the last twelve hours.”

  “Nothing that’s stayed down, no.”

  “Well, we’ll get some fluids in you to keep you hydrated,” she said. “Nothing by mouth until after tomorrow’s procedure, though.”

  “I’ll live.” I supposed I was hungry. Maybe. My stomach had been pretty busy kicking back anything I’d tried to eat since yesterday. Hell if I knew when I’d last tried to get anything down.

  While she put in the IV, I closed my eyes. The light was as bearable as it was going to get. I just couldn’t bring myself to look at Damon.

  The nurse finished getting the IV going and fiddled with some of the various monitors. Then she left.

  And there we were again, alone in this awkward silence.

  Damon took a breath. “I, um, I guess I should let you get some sleep.”

  “I don’t see that happening any time soon.” My voice was more slurred than I’d expected. I forced my eyes open. “Who knows, though? This shit might be kicking in.”

  He laughed halfheartedly. “Well, do you want me to stay a bit longer? Or let you try to sleep?”

  Don’t go. “You don’t have to stay.” Please, Damon, don’t leave. “Thanks for, um, everything.”

  “Anytime.” He paused. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow afternoon. Call me if you need me to be here sooner.”

  “Okay, I will.” No, no, don’t leave. “Thanks.”

  Our eyes met briefly. He dropped his gaze. I looked away. Under normal circumstances, he’d never leave without a kiss, but I didn’t expect it this time. Probably not in the foreseeable future, if ever. My skin crawled. Nothing quite like being something your own boyfriend wouldn’t touch.

  With murmured good-byes and fleeting eye contact, Damon left.

  I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t really justify being disappointed. He’d stayed with me longer than I’d expected. Certainly longer than I had any business asking him to. The fact that he hadn’t run for the hills—yet—was something I was grateful for.

  Damon wasn’t phobic of shifters, transgendered people, gays, or anything like that. Quite the opposite. He was good friends with at least one coworker who was a shifter, and he didn’t bat an eye at the people who came to the everyone-friendly bar where I worked. I’d hoped a few times he’d get a clue from the fact that I worked there. Foolish me, when he’d asked, I’d said I liked the atmosphere.

  I wasn’t a dishonest person. Just scared. Once bitten and all that. And out of all the guys I’d dated, Damon was the one I’d been most afraid of losing. I’d sworn up and down I’d tell him, but every time I tried, I choked.

  Come on, Alex. It’s not like he’s never heard of shifters. But then, anyone who hadn’t been living under a rock had heard of us, even if we were a rarity. Plenty of people carried the gene but couldn’t shift. Many shifters were completely stealth, living as one gender and shifting only behind closed doors. They told no one and didn’t answer censuses with their true status for fear of persecution. And why would we? Fuck the census and everyone else if revealing ourselves meant being targets for torches and pitchforks.

  Or repulsing loved ones.

  Chances were, most people knew a handful of us without even knowing it. I doubted anyone at my day job had a clue about me. Oh, weren’t they in for a shock when I came strolling in on Monday?

  If I could have done so without causing myself more pain, I’d have groaned. Monday wasn’t going to go well at all. I had one coworker who knew. And, damn it, I’d promised him and his wife I’d watch their kids on Wednesday night while they went to some church function. Somehow I doubted I’d be up for that. Hopefully they’d understand if I bailed on them this one time.

  Hopefully a lot of people would understand a lot of things. One person in particular, though I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Between the pain banging around in my head and the guilt and fear twisting in my gut, I didn’t expect to get much sleep. The painkillers had other plans, though, and I eventually drifted off.

  I dreamed, and by morning, wished I hadn’t.

  Fingers laced behind my head, I stared up at my bedroom ceiling. I hadn’t slept last night because I was worried about Alex, and in spite of my body aching for sleep, tonight was shaping up to go the same way for the same reason.

  Alex was safe for the time being. That headache had scared the hell out of me, and I didn’t envy the pain she—he?—was undoubtedly in, but he wasn’t in danger because of it.

  Our relationship, though? Fuck.

  I wanted to be pissed at Alex for not telling me, but I couldn’t be. I knew too much about how society viewed shifters to be upset she’d kept it a secret. I’d known a few over the years, some who were completely out, others who confided in a handful of select, trusted friends. They took a lot of shit for what they were. I empathized, I sympathized, but how the hell was I supposed to handle this?

  And what about between now and when the implant came out? Alex was a man. I could be there and help him through this, but I wasn’t gay.

  My own thought made me cringe.

  No, Damon. What you are is a dick.

  I rubbed my eyes and swore under my breath. Alex was still the same person. When the implant came out, she’d be able to resume her female form, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about being with someone who was also a male. I wasn’t sure how dual genders affected her sexuality. Did she need someone to satisfy her male side as well as her female side? I had no idea.

  Sorting this out would be anything but simple.

  At least she was more or less okay. Damage control on our relationship wouldn’t be pleasant, but I’d rather sit through some awkward conversations than attend Alex’s funeral.

  I rolled onto my side and let that cold comfort, combined with sheer exhaustion, carry me off to restless sleep.

  By the time I got to the hospital the next day with a double shot espresso in hand, Alex had already gone into the operating room. The nurse had permission to update me on Alex’s condition, and apparently the pain had worsened this morning, so they’d gotten her—him—in sooner rather than later.

  “Is that a bad sign?” I asked. “The pain getting worse?”

  “It’s not uncommon for spinal headaches to worsen,” she assured me. “It’s not dangerous, just miserable for the patient. Most patients come out of this procedure feeling much better, though, so hopefully it’ll help him.”

  “Hopefully. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She squinted at something on her computer screen. “Oh, and it looks like he’s in recovery now. The waiting room’s a little crowded, so if you’d prefer to wait in his room, he should be down within the hour.”

  As she suggested, I waited in Alex’s empty room
, jumping out of my skin every time a gurney rolled by outside. Even if this was a relatively minor procedure, I was worried. Every minute that went by without Alex being wheeled in unnerved me a little more.

  And who was I kidding? The prospect of any one of those passing gurneys being his also wound me up. I was nervous about seeing her. Him. About the conversations we needed to have. Would I say the wrong thing? Were things between us supposed to stay the way they’d always been? Christ, this wasn’t going to fit in my brain.

  Forty-five minutes or so after I’d arrived, one of the passing gurneys slowed, turned, and rolled into the room. Alex’s eyes were closed, but there was a hell of a lot more color in his face today.

  “Looks like you have a visitor,” the nurse said to Alex as she pushed the gurney into place.

  Alex opened his eyes, and when he saw me, his eyebrows jumped slightly. “Damon.”

  I forced a playful lilt into my voice. “Who else were you expecting?”

  He started to speak, but then just closed his eyes and shook his head. “Didn’t think you’d be here.” He paused, then quickly added, “This early, I mean.”

  “Do you even know what time it is?”

  He managed a tired laugh. “Now that you mention it, I don’t even know what day it is.”

  “It’s Sunday, for the record.”

  He looked up at me with wide eyes. “It is?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “So much for my weekend,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Tired, but a million times better than I did last night.”

  “Sounds like a good sign.”

  “It’s a very good sign,” the nurse said. “The doctor wants you to stay in here for a couple more hours, Alex, and then you can go home. Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?”

  “I don’t suppose a scotch on the rocks is an option.”

  She laughed. “No, I’m afraid not.” She patted his arm. “Just press the nurse call button if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  The sedative they’d given him for the blood patch procedure had him fading in and out for the next hour or so. At least it was an excuse not to have a serious conversation. We talked about nothing in particular when he was awake. When he was asleep, I’d kick back with a magazine.

  I also stole a few glances at him while he was out, searching his features for the woman I knew. He’d kept his hand over his eyes most of the time last night, and even when he hadn’t, we’d been in darkness or close to it. Besides, I’d been too shocked last night to take in any details, so this was the first time I’d been able to really look at him.

  Daylight illuminated a stranger who was startlingly familiar. If I hadn’t known who he was, I’d have sworn he was related to Alex. A brother, a cousin, someone who shared enough DNA to have the same shape nose, distinctive cheekbones, and, I realized whenever he was awake, blue eyes. She was fairly tall as a female; I was almost six-two, and only had three or four inches on her. As a male, he was the same height—I assumed, since I’d really only seen him struggling to stay standing at all, never mind straightening up to his full height—and his bone structure was slightly heavier than his female form, but on the finer end of the spectrum for a man. Not feminine per se, but uncannily similar to the Alex I knew.

  I couldn’t decide if that resemblance made it easier or more difficult for me to comprehend all of this.

  About the time Alex was coherent enough for us to stand a chance of dipping our toes into more awkward subject matter, a nurse came in with his discharge papers.

  “Stay on your back as much as you can today,” she said. “Take it easy, relax, don’t push yourself. Tomorrow, move around as much as you’re comfortable, but don’t overdo it.”

  “This will be fun to explain to my bosses.” Alex scanned the paperwork she’d given him.

  “There’s a letter in there you can give to your employer,” she said. “And don’t worry, the details of your condition are kept to a minimum. You can just explain you had a minor surgical procedure, and that should be enough. Tell them you had a lumbar puncture.”

  Alex arched an eyebrow. “Which my boss would probably buy if I wasn’t saying it in a male voice.”

  The nurse stiffened a little. “Oh. Well, yes I suppose that could be a problem.”

  Alex made a dismissive gesture. “I’ll figure something out.”

  When we arrived at Alex’s house, I parked in the same place I had when I’d come to check up on her last night. I tried not to dwell on how much my world had shifted—

  Oh. Yeah. Nice choice of words. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I got out of the car and went around to the passenger side.

  Alex opened the door and started to stand but faltered.

  “Need a hand?” I asked.

  “No, I’m good. Thanks.” He stood gingerly, gripping the car door to steady himself. Once he was on his feet, he stopped, taking a few deep breaths before he closed the door and started toward the house.

  “Is it the drugs or your head?” I asked.

  “I think it’s the drugs.” He took another step and wavered slightly. “My head doesn’t hurt. I’m just fucking dizzy.”

  “Here.” I offered my elbow.

  He met my eyes, probably weighing whether or not to accept. The need for balance evidently won over pride, because he put his hand on my elbow. “Thanks.”

  On the porch, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and found Alex’s house key. He leaned against the railing while I unlocked the door, and once we were inside, he started toward the living room.

  “Don’t you want to lie down in the bedroom?” I asked. “Might be more comfortable.”

  “This is fine. And at least then you can watch TV if I fall asleep.” He lay back on the couch and sighed. “Ah, much better.”

  “Need anything?”

  “I think I’m okay.” He paused. “I could go for something to eat, though.”

  “They didn’t feed you at the hospital?”

  “Not before I went into the OR, no.”

  “That’s probably why you’re so dizzy, then,” I said. “I don’t care what they say, an IV is not a substitute for the real thing.”

  “No, it isn’t, but have you seen the shit they serve in hospitals?” He wrinkled his nose.

  I laughed. “I’ll give you that. I’d take airline food over hospital food any day.”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but right now, I could seriously go for some kind of food.” He started to get up.

  “Wait. Why don’t you just relax for a minute, and I’ll go make us something to eat. What are you in the mood for?”

  He hesitated, then settled back onto the couch. “Anything that doesn’t smell like a hospital.”

  “That narrows it down.”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just a sandwich or something.”

  “That’s not too much for your stomach? After the drugs and not eating?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  Alex laughed quietly. “I’m kidding. I’ll be okay. My stomach’s fine.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. Then I went into the kitchen. I knew my way around, so I got out everything I needed to make a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches.

  While I made our food, I looked around the kitchen and dining room that had long ago become familiar, taking them in as if for the first time. If the situation had been reversed, if I’d known Alex as a man the first time I’d set foot here, nothing about the house would have tipped me off that a woman lived here. Not that women were required to have frilly, flowery decor while men were forbidden from anything without an NFL logo on it, but everything in Alex’s house—from the furniture to the simple decorations—was as neutral as it could possibly be.

  Every appliance in the kitchen was black or stainless steel, and there wasn’t
a single adornment except for a couple of newspaper comics under pizza delivery magnets on the refrigerator. In the living room where he was waiting for me, several large prints hung in simple black frames on the stark white walls. The images themselves were photos of wolves, something Alex loved and, as an added bonus, her mother hated. Besides the wolves, the walls were mostly bare.

  There were few decorations on shelves or tables. It wasn’t an aversion to clutter; God knew Alex and I were both the types who let old mail and “I’ll get to it eventually” paperwork stack up on counters and desktops. I’d never paid a great deal of attention to the way she dressed, but now that I thought about it, most of her clothing was as neutral as her house. Jeans and T-shirts, slacks and polos. If there’d been any distinctly male clothing in her closet, either it blended in with her other clothes, or I’d simply never noticed.

  Scrutinizing the whole picture, I realized there was very little on display to tip anyone off about Alex’s personality.

  Or, more to the point, gender. Genders.

  It made me wonder what other lengths she’d gone to over the years to keep her identity a secret. She’d fooled me. I’d spent countless nights here over the last two years, and I’d never seen anything to hint that a man lived under this roof. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what other details she’d thought of, what little tells she’d masked to keep them from giving herself away to me or anyone else.

  And in the space of one weekend, all her efforts had been blown out of the water.

  Sighing, I pulled two cans of Coke out of the refrigerator, then picked up our sandwiches and went back into the living room.

  Alex sat up. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  I handed him a plate and a soda. “Shouldn’t you stay on your back?”

  “I’ll manage for a few minutes.” He popped open the can. “No point in choking to death trying to eat lying down, right?”

  I laughed. “I suppose not.”

  After he’d taken a few bites, he washed it down with some Coke. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled. “My God, I needed that. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.” He looked at me, a shy smile pulling at his lips. “Thanks, by the way. For everything.”