It takes another two days before they let me leave the hospital. Mostly because I can’t seem to stay awake for more than an hour at a time. But also because Lukas is worried. Deeply, silently, stubbornly worried. It’s been a full week since the warehouse. Since Solem. Since I burned through everything I had, and SOMEHOW kept going. And I still haven’t recovered even the faintest hint of magic. One of the doctors here happens to be a magic user. He’s kind, efficient, and more than a little bit exasperated with Lukas.
“You drained yourself completely.” He explains, standing at the foot of the bed while I blink up at him sleepily.
“Then you somehow tapped into reserves you didn’t even have. It’s not surprising that it’s taking time to recover. Once you’ve got the energy to stay awake properly, your magic should start trickling back.” He says it to me, but his gaze keeps drifting toward Lukas, like he knows exactly who the real patient is in this dynamic. Lukas crosses his arms.
“But shouldn’t she stay here until we’re sure she’s recovering properly?” He demands. The doctor sighs.
“There is no actual medical reason to keep her here. Rest is what she needs. And she’ll rest better at home. We’ll provide crutches for her ankle.” He assures Lukas, not even pretending that this argument is with me anymore. I don’t really mind. I’m sure the doctor is going to win this debate, Lukas just needs the reassurance that everything is fine, and he needs it from the doctor. But there’s no harm in a little bit of a push from me too. Lukas’s jaw tightens as he stares down the doctor. I reach for his hand and wrap my fingers around his.
*I want to go home, I miss Princess. I’ll heal faster with her around. And it’s not like I’m doing anything here except sleeping. I won’t even notice the difference.* I tell him silently. Lukas exhales slowly, and I feel the tension leave his shoulders.
“Fine.” He says, though it sounds more like a defeated grumble than an agreement. I smile faintly and promptly drift off for another nap while Lukas arranges for everything. Flowers and gifts are sorted into pile,: some to be sent home, others donated. I’m vaguely aware of him making calls, speaking to nurses, and signing paperwork. When I wake again, the room is emptier. And it’s time to finally go home.
Lukas was thoughtful enough to stop and grab some clothes for me the last time he went home to feed Princess and Roxy. So, when I finally peeled myself out of bed, I managed to tug on a simple sundress, pale pink with little daisies on it, over the undergarments that he somehow picked out from my drawers. Which is… Kind of embarrassing. I mean, I don’t really mind him going through my closet. But my underwear drawer? It was necessary, and I’m glad to have the items, but it’s still awkward. Then again, I dragged him clothes shopping a few weeks ago and trailed around after him while he replaced his own clothing including his underwear, so maybe we’re even? When he walks back into the bedroom and sees me, Lukas smiles.
“You look more like yourself in that. The hospital gown was very… Dull.” He says carefully. I laugh.
“Yeah, it was. Can I ask what made you pick this particular outfit?” It’s completely fine, but I want to know why he chose it. Did he like the look of it? Or was there some kind of practical reason? I assume he didn’t pick pants because it would be hard to get them on over the cast. Lukas reasons everything out, so I want to know if there was some logic behind his choice. He shrugs, awkward but honest.
“You care about your clothes. I didn’t want to put together something you’d hate or feel uncomfortable in. A dress is just one thing to pick, and I can’t mess up which items go together right. It seemed safer.” He explains. That… Actually makes perfect sense.
“I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I didn’t grab any shoes. None of yours looked practical, not with the cast. So I went out and got you these.” He walks over and pulls a small bag from a nearby chair, revealing a pair of thick, fluffy socks, striped pink and purple, the kind with those little silicone grip dots on the soles.
“They’re bed socks. Non-slip ones. You can wear one on your good foot and still shuffle around without worrying about falling. I thought they’d be more comfortable than your shoes and better than being barefoot.” He explains. I blink at him. That’s… Absurdly sweet. And very well thought out.
“Thanks, Lukas.” I say, grinning as I pull on one of the socks. It’s ridiculously cozy. My foot feels like it’s being hugged by a marshmallow. Lukas then spends the next ten minutes making me hobble around the hospital room on my crutches while he hovers like a nervous parent watching their toddler learn to walk. He insists on carrying everything, my bag, paperwork, even my phone.
“I’ll be fine, Lukas.” I groan, not for the first time.
“You say that, but you’re still tilting everywhere when you walk.” He mutters, unconvinced. He’s not wrong. By the time we finally get out the door and down to the car, I’m… Well. I see his point. It’s the most movement I’ve done in over a week, and the exhaustion hits hard. My arms ache from the crutches. My ankle is throbbing, and I keep jolting it every time I forget which foot is the bad one. I can’t even fake feeling okay because, of course, Lukas hears every tired thought I’m trying to suppress as he helps me into the car. He sets my crutches in the back seat.
“I told you I should’ve just carried you.” He says pointedly. I glare at him, but not with much behind it. Being carried WOULD have been a lot easier on me. But I’m stubborn and I wanted to do it myself. I still do.
“There’s nothing wrong with me being a little tired.” I insist.
“The exercise will be good for me.” I add stubbornly. He just sighs as he starts the car, deadpan and unimpressed.
“If you say so.”
By the time we pull up outside the apartment, I’m so tired I could cry. My eyelids are drooping and the only reason I’ve not gone to sleep again is that I refuse to give Lukas the satisfaction. Everything aches. My arms are shaky from using the crutches, my ankle is throbbing, and my entire body feels like it’s been weighed down with bricks. I try to unclip the seatbelt, but my hands are shaky too. Lukas leans over and gently pushes my hands aside, doing it for me without a word.
“Alright, stay there.” He says, getting out of the car. I barely have time to blink before my door opens and Lukas crouches down beside me.
“What are you do-? Lukas. No!” I object.
“Yes.” He insists.
“No. I have crutches. I can walk.” I argue.
“You barely made it to the car, and your internal monologue was a steady stream of ‘ow, ow, ow’ the whole way.” He points out. I squint at him.
“You weren’t supposed to be listening.” I complain.
“And yet here we are.” He says calmly, then sighs.
“Look, I know you can walk, you already proved you can do it. But you’re exhausted, just let me take care of you, okay?” He says. Then, before I can argue again, he slides one arm under my knees and the other behind my back, lifting me with ease.
“I am not some princess.” I grumble, even as I settle comfortably against his chest.
“No, she’s waiting inside.” He replies. I snort a laugh, exhausted, amused, and slightly flustered against my will. We make it to the door. Lukas shifts the keys in one hand with a bit of fumbling, then kicks the door open. And there she is. Princess is perched dramatically on the back of the couch like she’s been waiting to deliver a monologue. The moment the door opens, she lets out a loud, offended meow. I suddenly feel like a teenager who got caught sneaking in after curfew. Princess bolts toward us. She doesn’t leap into Lukas’s arms, of course, she’s a cat, not a golden retriever, but she circles him like a furry shark, meowing insistently.
“I know, I know, I’ve deeply inconvenienced you.” I say affectionately. She lets out another miffed meow and trots into the bedroom ahead of us, tail high like she’s leading the way to the throne room. Roxy darts over, apparently keeping her distance until Princess is out of the way. Lukas chuckles as he carries me to my room, following Princess.
“She's been sleeping in your spot like she’s the queen of this place.” He informs me.
“She is, I’m just the underpaid live-in staff.” I murmur sleepily. Lukas gently sets me down on the bed, adjusting the pillows behind me. Princess immediately hops up, circles once, and plants herself at my side, half on the blanket, half on my hip. Roxy hops up and joins her. She’s heavier and the jolt hurts my ankle, but I don’t care.
“Welcome home, Clare.” Lukas says softly, sitting beside me and brushing a hand through my hair. I smile, sinking into the mattress, warm and tired.
“Yeah, it’s good to be home.” I whisper. Lukas lies down beside me and wraps his arms around me and I fall asleep again, safe and comfortable.