Chapter Text
As soon as you heard the twins whooping downstairs, you knew Sylus was home. You were on your feet in a second, clambering off the sofa and dropping your phone somewhere on the cushions. By the time you had reached the doorway, the cheers had turned to concerned shouts and calls of your name, spurring you on.
You saw the three of them rushing through the foyer when you reached the landing of the main staircase. Your lover was moving slowly, her huge form bracketed by Luke and Kieran, who were trying to get her in a room as quickly as possible. The two of them were so short compared to the woman between them that they weren’t getting very far. You rushed downstairs to help, immediately hit by the smell of blood and gasoline.
Dread filled your stomach when you got close enough to take stock of Sylus’s injuries. She was badly beaten; scratches all down her forearms, a purple bruise scraped across her jawbone, the bridge of her handsome nose featuring a deep cut. Her clothes were saturated with blood, sticking to her skin and shining like oil. You found yourself breathlessly hoping the majority of it had come from someone else, anyone else.
There was no obvious limp in her gait, but her chest heaved with the shallow breathing you associated with broken ribs, obviously limiting her movement. She was using one hand to steady the opposite arm, because…
Because there was a knife buried in her shoulder.
The building inside of you spiked when you realized the wounds were just… Normal. Unaffected by the red energy and curling black smoke of her evol. She wasn’t healing herself, or maybe she couldn’t.
“Sylus, what happened?” You asked frantically, easing her onto a chaise lounge. Your lover reclined like her body was dragging her down. You gestured to the twins and they ran off to get supplies.
“The deal fell through,” she grunted, not trying to disguise her pain. “About a week ago. I was involved in a… Let’s say, a ‘hostage situation’.”
“You were captured?” She snorted and gave you a cocky look through her long lashes. How she still had the energy for her trademark confidence was beyond you.
“I wasn’t the hostage, sweetie.”
“How’d you get back with…” You gently placed your hand on her collarbone, just to the side of the blade. “…With this?”
“I borrowed a very fast car.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself. Reckless asshole.
“It’ll have to come out.” You knew you were doing that thing again; the pair of you were constantly finding new ways to say ‘I love you’ while dancing around the intimacy of it, while not addressing the true depth of your connection.
“…You probably ruined this jacket,” you said. I almost lost you, your heart whispered.
“Won’t you patch it up for me, kitten?” I trust you with my life, murmured her tired eyes and easy smile in reply. She looked incredibly vulnerable. Her large hand slid over yours and you noticed her knuckles were bloody.
“I’ll have to patch you up, first,” you scolded fondly.
“We brought literally everything we could think of, boss!” Kieran announced as he reentered the room. It wasn’t clear which one of you he was addressing as ‘boss’, which made your heart warm.
“I got some towels too, I thought that would help,” Luke said, on his brother's heel. He set down the supplies while Kieran helped you drag the coffee table and an armchair closer to Sylus.
You were satisfied with what the twins had laid out for you; towels of various sizes, a first aid kit, a collection of pill bottles, a pitcher of water, and a bottle of black pepper vodka that still had frost clinging to the glass.
“Good job, you two,” you said earnestly. “I can take it from here, but your help makes all the difference. She’s gonna be fine.”
The boys visibly relaxed at your reassurance. You turned your attention to the woman sagging into the cushions as identical voices chimed “no problem,” and “anytime!”
Their footsteps grew quiet as they left you two alone in the cool evening. Sylus watched you open the first aid kit with keen interest.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited for you to play nurse,” Sylus drawled. You rolled your eyes to cover the blush on your cheeks. Now that Luke and Kieran were out of earshot, you could address the issue at hand.
“Sylus.”
“Hm?”
“Why aren’t your wounds closing?” You asked, putting on gloves to distract yourself from your rising dread.
“Are you worried about me, princess?” You relaxed at the nickname on her tongue, one she always used when soothing you.
“I am,” you admitted. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I’m worn out, that’s all. I need to rest for a few days.”
“But you’ll be okay?” She squeezed your hand.
“I’ll be okay.” Relief flooded through you and you blinked back tears.
“So… It’s okay if I’m not exactly a professional? We can get a doctor…” She shook her head gingerly, trying not to strain her shoulder.
“You’ll do just fine. Start with the knife, honey.” She was comforting you more than you were helping her, at this point.
You slowly wrapped your fingers around the handle, a wave of nausea rolling over you. Deja vu prickled on your skin, making the hair on your neck raise. The air stilled.
Sylus studied your expression like she knew this would happen, like she was looking for something in your face.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you murmured, feeling like this moment was so familiar and so wrong.
“It’s alright, princess. You have to…”
…Press on, a voice in your head finished. You must press on.
You gritted your teeth and smoothly pulled the blade from her flesh. Sylus’s body jerked, but she didn’t make a sound, still looking at you curiously. The two of you sat in silence, staring at each other. A buried memory nagged at the edge of your mind… And Sylus’s eyes posed a question you weren’t ready to answer, for whatever reason.
Still feeling ill, you tossed the knife away. With a flash of steel and red blood, it skated across the floor into a dark corner, leaving you to assess the damage left behind. Sylus leaned forward and you were able to pull her jacket off, though you had to cut away her shirt with the emergency scissors. You tossed that into the corner too, where it landed with a wet rustle.
You were surprised by the state of her wound; after removing the blade, it didn’t gush immediately. The towel you used to staunch the blood came away nearly clean. You gawked at Sylus, who seemed amused by your reaction.
“I never bleed much,” she explained. Thank god, you thought. That blood really was from someone else. You shivered at the implication.
“Even when you can’t use your evol? Like now?”
“My insides prefer to stay on the inside,” she answered dryly.
“I think you need stitches anyway… Are you ready?”
“Hand me the bottle, then we’ll talk.” You passed the vodka over, but she didn’t drink, choosing instead to press the cold glass to her jaw. “Alright, go.”
Luckily for Sylus, you had taken first aid courses in preparation for the Hunter’s exam. You adeptly prepared the needle and cleaned the wound, trying not to look down at her exposed chest… But you couldn’t help yourself. You stole a glance to make sure her nipple piercings had made it through whatever she got involved in unscathed. They were perfect as always, frustratingly so.
Thank god for that, cooed a treacherous thought. Sylus obviously saw you looking, judging by the smirk she wore when you made eye contact with her again. Slowly, sensually, she opened her mouth and flashed her tongue piercing.
“Still here,” she purred. You scowled and pushed the needle through her skin, willing your fluttering core to settle. Sylus hissed at the first few stitches, but held her annoying, long, sexy, pierced tongue. Mostly.
“Great technique,” she whispered in your ear. You were incredibly close to her now, kneeling on the chaise to get a better view of your knots.
“Thank you.”
“Have you done this before, kitten?”
“I used to practice sutures as a student,” you replied. “I did all sorts of treatments on synthetic skin. I wasn’t sure what role the association would want me for.”
Sylus hummed, gazing at you with pride painted across her features. You flushed.
“I just wanted to be helpful,” you muttered, suddenly feeling shy. “Have you had stitches before?” The other woman nodded, watching you cover your work.
“Good job, sweetheart. You make a fine nurse.” Her crimson eyes sparkled and you felt more than a little in love with her.
“Thanks, you too.”
“Me too?”
“Yeah,” you said, tying a neat bow in the bandages. “You’re a good patient, too.”
Sylus’s chuckle was too airy and ended in a wheeze she couldn’t disguise with her hand. The attempt itself was a dead giveaway, since she never bothered to hide her gorgeous laugh from you, especially when it was at your expense.
“What did you do to your ribs?” You asked sternly.
“So accusatory! I didn’t get to offend you.”
“You shouldn’t hide your symptoms from your doctor,” you warned, placing both hands on her muscular abdomen.
“You’re a doctor now, sweetie? I’d like to see your license.” Your fingers inched higher and she winced.
“I don’t bring my degree on house calls. Pain here?” You pressed down.
“Yes, but- hey, watch it- they’ll heal on their own in a few days. I’ll take something for the pain.”
“Days? Are you sure? I’m no expert, but I don’t think that’s how your body works…” Sylus barked out a pained laugh.
“Kitten, it’s only been six months! I don’t think you know my body better than I do… Yet.”
You slapped her arm, face aflame. Sylus loved teasing you with carefully placed jabs and innuendos about your sex life. To be honest, you loved it too. You enjoyed squirming under her ruby gaze, feeling the warm arousal pool in your stomach when she laughed at your embarrassment.
To punish her, or maybe reward her, you flicked one of those perfect silver nipple bars, already knowing what effect it would bring. Sylus’s eyes, still locked on you, fluttered shut as she reveled in the sensation. You were grateful that she hadn’t moaned at the touch; you would’ve done something very unprofessional for a nurse- doctor- whatever you were.
Shaking your head, you decided to focus on the cuts and scratches on her arms, decorating her skin with a patchwork of bandages and medical tape. I wish I brought the cute animal bandaids from home, you thought sadly. Sylus would’ve looked charming with cats and stars and flowers stuck on her biceps. Once you had finished with her arms, you pulled away and sat back in the armchair. Sylus looked at you expectantly.
“What?” You snapped with no edge in your voice.
“Aren’t you going to write me a prescription, kitten?” She asked, looking over at the pills the twins had brought in.
“That’s Dr. Kitten to you,” you huffed. Her startled cough made the embarrassment worth it. You picked up a bottle and offered it to her with the picture of water… Which seemed to be a hastily filled wine decanter, on second glance. It still smelled faintly sweet, too. You pictured one of Sylus’s adopted sons dumping out whatever expensive wine had been airing and filling it with tap water. Sylus must’ve been imagining a similar scene because she was chuckling and shaking her head.
You watched her drink greedily from the decanter, watched the water spill from her lips and down the valley of her cleavage, watched her mouth come away wet and shining. She took note of your stare, but didn’t comment.
“Nice. Subtle notes of raspberry and… Aspirin,” she joked. You grinned, overwhelmed with the sudden relief that she was home and more or less safe.
When she had left for the business trip, she had warned you the dealings could last up to five days. When one week had passed, you were restless, antsy maybe, but not panicked just yet. As one week stretched into two, and then two and some change, you became a nervous wreck, practically enlisting the twins to stand look-out for her. Now that she was in front of you, warm and whole and too smug, you felt like you could finally exhale.
“Let me look at your nose,” you said softly, still smiling.
“You are looking at it.” That earned her a swat on the muscular thigh. Gently, you straddled the larger woman, adhesive sutures and disinfectant in hand. She let you cup her cold jaw, still a little swollen after the ice, not even wincing when you cleaned the cut between her eyes.
Those eyes… Like those of a hawk, a viper, a lion. So dangerous, capable of such awesome power, yet softened by your presence, full of trust, adoration, and amusement. Pinned by those stunning eyes, your hands shook as you applied the sutures to her wound.
“There,” you whispered when the work was done. For effect, as a reward- hell, because you wanted to- you leaned in and kissed her forehead. Sylus hummed and peered up at you
“Say, doctor… That medicine was very effective, but I’m feeling some pain here…” She purred, her hands slowly inching towards your waist. You tapped her lips.
“Where, here?”
“Yes, exactly there.”
And suddenly, you were kissing her, melting into her touch while being careful not to lean on her too much. Sylus’s tongue slipped between your teeth and explored your mouth slowly, seemingly tasting every emotion you’ve been holding in. The nervousness, the stress, the tension of the past two weeks, bled away into soft comfort and arousal and happiness.
When your lover pulled away, she looked impossibly handsome and totally exhausted.
“We should go to bed,” you decided. Sylus’s eyebrow twitched and a flash of a vulnerable, hopeful expression graced her features. As soon as it appeared, it was gone again, replaced by her cocky smile.
“To bed? Is this part of your treatment plan? You fuck your patients?” You rolled your eyes. You knew what she was really asking, with her dirty implications and soft eyes; will you stay with me tonight? You answered with a smile.
“We should sleep , I mean,” you clarified. “And someone has to make sure you don’t pull your stitches overnight.” Of course I’ll stay. I want to take care of you .
“How innocent and thoughtful of you.”
“Mhmm. Can you walk?”
“Maybe. Help me up.” When she rose, she fell onto you for a moment, her large hands grasping your arms for support. Her breath against your neck made your body feel white hot, and based on her silent laughter, she knew it.
“Did you do that on purpose?” You wheezed, struggling to bear her weight. Sylus straightened somewhat, rubbing her bandaged shoulder.
“No.” She at least had the decency to sound sheepish about nearly crushing you. “I don’t think taking the stairs is in the cards for us, kitten.”
“Figures. Lucky for you, there’s a special contraption that can lift your heavy ass to the second floor.” Sylus gasped.
“Who’s heavy?”
“Perks of being rich, I guess. Only you could afford a ‘big and tall’ elevator, Mrs. Moneybags.” She started cough-laughing again, her hand firm on the nape of your neck in a way that made you want to fall to your knees and… Nevermind.
“I knew you were a gold digger, Miss Hunter.”
“As if! You know, I can leave you to crawl up those stairs if you want, Sylus.”
You both knew it was an empty threat; your jabs always were. When you finally got to Sylus’s bedroom, your muscles were sore from supporting her frame and the stress of the evening had begun to throb behind your eyes. But you hadn’t left her side for a moment, from guiding her into the elevators before the doors closed to adjusting her pillows as she slowly settled into her large, luxurious bed.
Sylus had grabbed your hand when you’d moved away, desperate to keep you close. After assuring her you would stay, you closed the curtains and shut the door, ready to block out future sounds and sunlight. Then you crawled on the mattress beside your lover. Sleepiness crept in as you leaned against her uninjured shoulder, her long fingers carding through your hair.
“Thank you for taking care of me, kitten.” The rumble of her voice was music to your weary soul.
“Of course,” you mumbled, tired eyes already growing heavy. “I’m just happy you’re home.”
“Me too.” You liked the sound of comfort and contentment in her voice. She deserves to be happy like this , you thought. To be safe, cared for. We deserve to share this happiness together.
Your butch started to hum a familiar tune, and you drifted away into sleep.