Her face softened, and she nodded, studying the enzyme closer. “This shouldn’t be too difficult, honestly.”
“What do I owe you?” The glare she shot him as he said the words told him it had been the wrong thing to say.
“You don’t owe me anything. You have your jobs, and this is one of mine. We all take care of each other in our own way. Otherwise the ship falls apart.”
“Literally, in your case.” He plastered a smile over his worry.
“Yours too. Without a crew, she’s just an empty hunk of metal.”
“Sorry I offended you.”
“You’re fine. It’s good to see you out and about, you know. Almost fraternizing with people. Whatever else, having the cat-lady on board has been good for you.” She leaned back down over the machine as she made adjustments to it. “Did you want a coffee?”
Before he could answer, she’d already tapped it in, and the mess filled with the sweet aroma of steaming milk as the bio-fabricator printed out a fresh cup. He couldn’t think of what else to say beyond thank you, but the drink was foamy and perfect as he walked back to Meja’s bunk.
When he returned to her rooms, Meja’s eyes were open. Painkillers had turned her gaze glassy; he’d have to watch that. She clearly had a susceptibility to them that might make getting her off the suetrex harder than it already would be. He made a note to dial back her dose if it didn’t leave her too uncomfortable.
“You weren’t here.” Her voice was small, and the need in it tugged something painful in his chest.
Layth held up his coffee. “I had to get a little sustenance. I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.” After looking around for a moment, he settled on the floor and leaned back against the side of her bed. As soon as he sat, Collins crawled onto his lap. Fur collected on the knees of his dark trousers, and he chuckled ruefully. “It’s like he knows I’m allergic to him.”
Her hand squeezed his shoulder, and he tried to relax into the touch instead of pulling away. “And you keep petting him, allergies be damned. That’s not really going to discourage him any. Despite the discomfort, he’s the only thing you haven’t pushed away.”
The observation stung, and he opened his mouth to protest but found he couldn’t. She was right. He even kept April at arm’s length, and supposedly they were his friend. Instead he focused on the wince he heard in her voice. “You’re still in pain.”
“It’s manageable.”
He checked his omni for the time. It had barely been an hour. “It shouldn’t have worn off yet. I can give you another small dose, but you need to understand the risks.”
“I don’t want to end up an addict. I only now have a life that’s my own.” One of the occupants of her lap purred, and he felt her shift to pet the cat. “Well, mine and theirs.”
“I won’t let you fall into addiction,” he said, surprised that he meant it. “I’ll be with you the whole way. We can step you back down starting tomorrow, but there’s no reason for you to suffer.”
There was a long silence, and as he stroked his hand over Collins’s back, he wondered if she’d fallen back asleep. Better for her if she had. He’d meant it when he said it, but he wasn’t the sort of person who should be guiding anyone out of anything. That required a level of connection that he didn’t even know if he was capable of.
“Just the extra dose today,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll be with me?”
Layth hesitated, then reached up and squeezed her hand. “Promise. You won’t have to do it alone.”
“Thank you.” The relief in her voice almost broke him, and he wondered how bad the pain actually was that she was so desperate for solace. He grabbed the bottle from his pocket and pulled out another quarter dose. He injected it quickly, then tucked the drug away again. Best to keep it close at hand in case the small dose wasn’t enough.
“That’s should start to take effect pretty quickly. If you fall asleep, I’ll stay here.”
She smiled, eyes already closed as he returned to his position against the side of the bed. “Tell me about yourself?”
The perspiration between his shoulders cooled suddenly, leaving a chill touch on his spine. He gave himself a long sip of his latte to develop a workaround to the question. “I’m not that interesting.” He cut off her mumbled protest before she could get started. “But if you insist, let’s flip it around. Why don’t you tell me what you think you know about me, and I’ll tell you how far off you are.”
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but hopefully it would allow him to control the narrative less obviously than if he talked about himself. Plus, he could stop as soon as she fell asleep, instead of rambling about his past to a sleeping person.
Meja grumbled, but she settled more comfortably into the mattress and returned her hand to his shoulder. “You come from money, but you told me that, so it hardly counts. Still, it’s a starting place. You don’t dress like you came from wealth though. It’s utilitarian clothing, easy to move in, easy to replace. My guess is military, but it would have to be planetary forces because if you were Joint Forces, you’d still be there.”
He smiled at the thought of Sheri Tyler, Barr’s ex-JTF partner in more ways than one, explaining that not everyone stayed in the Forces until retirement. Best to save that revelation for another day. “You’re not wrong so far. Go on.”
She brushed her knuckles along the skin of his neck, and he resisted the urge to lean into the touch—barely. After a few passes, he tilted his head to catch her fingers between his jaw and shoulder in an almost-hug.
Her hum of satisfaction was a physical thing. “You broke with your family over something major. My guess is that’s why you don’t cling to signs of wealth.”
He stiffened, heartbeat loud in his ears. Her fingertips froze, hesitant to continue.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he could hardly hear her over his pulse. “Was the falling out because…?” The silence at the end of her words lurked like a predatory thing, ready to pounce. The obvious question. The one he avoided at all cost, because it was no one else’s business.
Except if he wanted her friendship, or any kind of relationship for that matter—which he wasn’t liar enough to deny—then she deserved to know the honest truth.
“No. It wasn’t because I’m transmasc. If anything, my family was happier to have another son. What they weren’t as happy with was an avowed anticapitalist who felt that medical care, like most responsibilities of the state, should be equal access for everyone.”
Her voice stayed still for a long time, and he thought she might have finally succumbed to the suetrex and fallen asleep. Then her fingers returned to his neck, and she whispered, “Thank you for telling me. I know that had to be brave. Is it okay if I don’t treat you any different?”
His smile shouldn’t have felt so easy. Equity was enshrined in the law, but that didn’t mean individual families didn’t have issues from time to time. Honestly, he was mostly lucky that his had been as welcoming as it was. Part of him wanted more fanfare, but mostly he was relieved that she didn’t seem to care about it. “Yes, that would be fine.”