Born of Silence (The League Gen 1 #4)(37)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Maris inclined his head to him. “Thanks, Syn.”

After thanking him, too, Zarya went to the bed while Syn left them.

Once they were alone, Maris returned to stand beside her. “It’s hard to see him like this, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “How many times have you been with him in a hospital?”

“More than I care to remember. But the worst had to be when he was seventeen.”

“Was that when he was knocked through the table?”

“No. Before. It was a while after his first confinement in a mental institution.”

She scowled. “What happened to put him in a hospital?”

His expression grim, Maris took a sip of water before he answered. “His first attempt to kill himself. Like Lise, I found out about it from a news report right after I’d come in from a training exercise. It’s why I wasn’t upset at her for overreacting. I know how bad it is to hear something like that from a stranger who’s reporting it with a sickening gleam in her eye.”

Sighing, he capped his bottle. “By the time I got to the hospital, I was so mad at him for not calling me first, I could have killed him myself. What I didn’t know then was that Arturo had taken his link from him. Darling had been prohibited from talking to anyone, for any reason, including his mother and especially his family. Between that, having been raped, and his nightly strip searches that were every bit as humiliating and invasive as his rapes, Darling had been unable to cope with it all. The thought of enduring another thirteen years of hell like that had been more than he could stomach, so he broke the mirror in his bedroom and used the fragments to slash his wrists.”

Tears welled in his eyes. “I’d never seen Darling like that before. When we were in school together, he’d always been so strong and happy. Nothing got to him. Ever. Whatever came at him, he stood ferocious before it and dared it to try and knock him down. That was the Darling I was expecting to beat to a pulp for being stupid. And then I opened the door.”

Clearing his throat, he wiped at the tear that had fallen down his cheek. “His face battered, Darling had looked so pale and defeated. So broken…”

He bit back a sob. “Since the doctor was afraid Darling would try to kill himself again, he’d ordered Darling strapped to the bed like some kind of animal or criminal. They’d braced his arms so that it wouldn’t touch the bandages over his cuts. Darling was so ashamed of it all that he wouldn’t even look at me. He kept staring out the window with these dazed, glassy eyes that said he didn’t want to be here anymore. And he was there all alone. No family. No friends.”

“I’m so sorry, Maris.”

He shook his head. “My pain is slight compared to his. But that had to be the hardest year of his life. I can’t imagine everything he went through in just a handful of months. I still don’t know how he survived it all.”

“That was the same year that…” She hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t bring it up. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Darling any worse.

“That what?” Maris prompted

There’s no way Maris doesn’t know about it. He knew everything when it came to Darling and Drake had told her that the photographs and videos of Darling had circulated far and wide. So she forced herself to say the name that burned in her throat. “Nylan.”

Maris’s nostrils flared in anger. “How do you know about that? I know Darling didn’t breathe a word of it.”

Just as she thought—Maris knew him better than anyone. “Drake told me.”

“I swear that I, who profane violence, am going to cut that boy’s tongue out one day,” he said under his breath. “Why would he tell you about that?”

“He was explaining why he’d hated Darling when he was younger. Why he refused to believe me when I told him Darling was straight. He said that he’d seen proof otherwise, and he used that as his example.”

Maris mumbled under his breath in Phrixian—a habit he always had whenever he was really mad about something. “Just please tell me that you didn’t ask Darling about it.”

She cringed. “I did.”

More Phrixian.

Trying to soothe him, she touched his arm. “If it makes you feel better, Darling is grateful to you that you’ve never mentioned it to him.”

“It doesn’t and why should I?” He prissed daintily. “Drake is an idiot. I now have irrefutable proof of his supreme fatuousness. It was obvious to anyone with a brain what had happened.” He hissed like a cat. “Which explains why Drake didn’t get it… From the moment I heard about the scandal, I knew Darling would have to be beyond desperate to go to that pervert.”

He set the water bottle down on the tray next to Darling’s bed. “You can’t imagine the disdain and ridicule Darling’s been subjected to because of it. There were so many jokes that went around—jokes that were sickening. I was in militia training the first time that video was shoved in my face. I was so angry, I clocked the moron who was laughing when he showed it to me.”

It had to be bad to motivate Maris to such an act. “People can be extremely vicious.”

“Believe me, Zarya, I know. I am a g*y man, remember? They’ve let me have it plenty.”

He jerked his chin toward Darling. “Some of the old jokes are still floating around and are retold anytime he makes an official appearance.”

“Such as?”

He turned a pale shade of green and made sure that Darling wasn’t awake before he whispered to her. “I’m only telling these to you because you will hear them, and I want you prepared for the sheer, brutal nastiness of it…” He lowered his voice even more. “What’s the difference between Darling Cruel, the wind, and a vacuum?”

She drew her breath in sharply, dreading the answer.

Maris held the same look of disgust that she felt. “A vacuum only sucks. The wind only blows. But Darling sucks, blows, and swallows.”

She screwed her face up at the sheer cruelty. No wonder Maris had punched someone. Something like that would motivate her to even worse actions.

Sighing, he told her another one. “What’s the difference between a toilet and Darling? The toilet doesn’t follow you around after you use it. Then there’s my personal fave. What’s the difference between Darling and an oven? An oven doesn’t moan out loud when you stick a piece of meat in it.”

Her stomach shrank in horror. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”

“Trust me, there are a lot more than those three and I’ve thankfully forgotten most of the worst ones. But I’m sure Darling hasn’t. There’s nothing people love more than to laugh at someone else’s misery, and they belly-rolled over his. They didn’t care that Darling was in pain and that they were making it worse.”

Licking his lips, he glanced away from her. “What kills me most, though, is that it was obvious in the video that Darling was crying, scared, and humiliated the entire time. But to them it was just hilarious. Bastards!”

In that moment, she honestly hated people for their cruelty.

Before she could comment, the alarm to one of Darling’s monitors sounded.

Maris rushed to it and blocked her ability to read why it was going off.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Darling’s heart just stopped.”

16

Darling came to slowly. Exhausted and in pain, he tried to open his eyes, but the bandages left him in complete darkness.

“Is he awake?” That was Hauk’s familiar growl.

“Darling? Can you hear me?”

Zarya. How could anyone mistake that precious, angelic voice? He heard the monitor for his heart speeding up. It quickened even more when he felt her soft hand clutching his.

Voices exploded so that he couldn’t quite make them all out.

“Hey! Give us the room,” Syn demanded over the sudden pandemonium.

The voices grew louder an instant before they stopped entirely.

When Zarya started to let go of him, he tightened his grip on her hand to keep her with him.

“Syn?” she said gently.

“Yeah, okay, you can stay. The rest of you need to leave for a few minutes.”

Zarya kissed Darling’s fingers. “I’m right here, baby,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Another hand slid under his free one. By the large, rough feel of it, he knew it was Syn’s and not Zarya’s tiny, delicate hand. “Hey, bud. Tap once if you’re alert enough to understand me.”

Darling did.

“Good. You scared the shit out of us again. Thanks so much. It’s really an honor to be your doctor.” Syn’s sarcasm was so thick, it could double as insulation for a bomb shelter. “But we’re glad to have you back. Are you in pain at all? Once for yes. Two for no.”

Darling tapped once.

“Okay. Once if it’s severe. Two if you can live with it.”

It was severe, but Darling didn’t want to be incoherent so he tapped twice.

Syn scoffed at him. “Yeah, your blood pressure’s calling you a liar. That being said, I’m assuming you want to stay awake for a bit. So I’m not going to give you anything unless your blood pressure worsens.” Syn removed his hand. “Since you’re awake, I want to remove your breathing tube so that you can talk. I’m going to send Zarya out while I do it. Is that all right?”

Darling used League sign language to agree.

She sandwiched his hand between hers before she released it. “I won’t be gone long.”

As soon as she cleared the room, Syn numbed Darling’s throat so that he could slide the tube out. Darling tried not to gag, but it was hard.

And it was a fight he ultimately lost.

“Here.” Syn turned him to his side fast and held him there until his stomach settled down. “It’s all right. Don’t worry about the mess. Just breathe easy, little brother.”

Darling laid his head down, grateful he couldn’t see. “I don’t know how you do what you do. How many years did you go to med school to learn how to clean out bedpans, anyway?”

“Ha, ha. Instead of being a smart-ass, you should be kissing mine. Anyone else would have left you to code.”

“No offense, Syn, but right now, I’m wishing you had.” Darling rolled over slowly until he was on his back again. “How bad was it this time?”

“You don’t really want to know. Suffice it to say, if this doesn’t take, there won’t be another attempt. I’m not ever putting you under again. You can find yourself a new doctor who doesn’t care if you live or die.”

That news kicked him hard. He could tell by the brutal pain in his chest that felt like someone had stomped the crap out of him that he’d died on the table.

More than once.

“Seriously. How many times did you resuscitate me?”

“Enough that I’m glad I don’t pay the power bill here.”

Darling rubbed at the area over his heart that hurt the most. “Remind me to sign a DNR next time.”

“Like I’d pay attention to that? Yeah. You go right on and waste your time.” Syn ran his hands over Darling’s body, examining his abdomen.

A new feeling of dread consumed him. “What did you do there?”

“I attempted to repair some of your internals so that you might be able to go to the bathroom without trauma.”

That would be better than fixing his face.

Almost.

“Did it work?” Darling asked.

“We’ll know when we get some solid food back in you.”

“Oh goody. Can’t wait for that.”

Syn snorted. “You better be glad you’re already busted up. Otherwise I’d make you pay for all this sarcasm you’re spewing.”

Yeah, right. Syn was a top graduate from the School of Sarcasm himself. Not to mention the small fact that he knew his friend would sooner cut his own throat than hurt him.

Darling groaned out loud as Syn touched a tender spot. “That’s attached, you know?”

Syn didn’t say anything as he kept going with his examination.

While he worked, Darling’s thoughts went to what concerned him most. “When will the bandages come off?”

“I’d like to leave them on until the morning. Since I used a Prillion and Prinum combination, you should be as good as you’re going to get by then.”

Darling’s stomach clenched hard at the thought of what they might find once he was unwrapped. Please let this work.

He couldn’t stand the thought of going through the rest of his life with Pip’s name carved into his face. I just want a chance to be normal.

Just once.

Between the fight with Ryn and his torture, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t flinched at his own reflection. A time when people hadn’t stared at him in distaste.

Don’t think about it.

The surgery was done. Either he was better or he wasn’t. There was nothing any of them could do about it now. It was what it was. All too soon, he’d have the answer…

“How long was I out of it?” he asked Syn.

“Not quite seventy hours.”

Damn. He was getting tired of being unconscious. “How much of that was spent in surgery?”

“Let’s just say if I’m ever on that table that long, I hope I have a few tag team doctors for it. You’re lucky I’m used to not sleeping.”

That was an understatement. Syn and Nykyrian were the only ones he knew who could stay awake longer and more alert than he could. Truly impressive. “Remind me, I need to send Shahara flowers for letting me keep you away from her for so long.”

Syn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You owe her more than that. She and Kiara have been taking shifts keeping your woman and sister from climbing the walls. But at least Lise took a nap. Zarya hasn’t slept since you’ve been here. She’s refused to close her eyes for anything more than a blink. Maris either, for that matter. They’re both about to collapse.”

Darling wasn’t sure if he should be angry, flattered, or disturbed by that news. While he never wanted them to deprive themselves for anything, even him, a part of him was thrilled that they cared that much. It was selfish—probably wrong—but his heart swelled with the love he had for the two of them. They were his life.

He felt Syn move away from the bed. “Do you want me to let everyone in or keep them out?”

“Can you send in Ryn, Zarya, and Maris first?” He needed to speak with them away from the rest of the group.

“Sure.” Syn’s steps drifted away.

“Hey, Syn?” Darling called, hoping he caught him before he left the room.

“Yeah?”

Darling hesitated. He owed the Ritadarion a debt that couldn’t be repaid. Over the years, Syn had patched him up and pieced him back together more times than he could count. And while Syn never said the words, he knew that Syn couldn’t stand to see someone he cared about suffer. It was a “weakness” Syn’s father had ruthlessly used against him when he’d been a kid. It was why Syn had become a doctor. Having seen his own sister die, he’d wanted to have the ability to heal anyone he loved.

To keep them safe.

And Darling knew what it did to Syn every time he died on the table and Syn had to go through the fear of his not waking up. The fact that Syn would continue to put himself through that so that Darling could keep his genetics a secret…

That was true friendship.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Syn snorted at him. “You might want to save that gratitude until we see how much it helped.”

“Even if I’m still a freak, I appreciate it. Most of all, thank you for being my friend.”

Syn let out a low whistle. “Damn, I better double check the meds I have you on.”

Darling laughed, then grimaced as pain lanced through him again. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about his face remaining the same as before.

I won’t be able to take it.

But the saddest part was that he knew he would. Somehow he’d find the strength to endure it, even if it killed him. After all, it wouldn’t be nearly as hard as having to face the other aristos after Nylan and Arturo went viral with his video.

Anything was easier than that.

Besides, he should look on the bright side. At least no one wants to screw me when I’m scarred.

No one except Zarya.

Her name had barely flashed through his mind before he smelled the sweet warmth of her perfume. She took his hand again.

“Syn said you could speak?”

He cleared his throat, which was still incredibly sore. “Are Maris and Ryn with you?”

“We’re here.” They were on the other side of his bed.

Darling rubbed her hand, and braced himself for her reaction. “Ryn? Would you mind taking both of them home for me?”

“No!” Zarya snapped.

Maris’s tone was even sharper. “We’re not leaving.”

He ignored their protests. “If they won’t go on their own, have Nyk stun them.”

Maris cursed him in Phrixian while Zarya sputtered in indignation.

Darling held his hand up to silence them.

Zarya made a sound that he’d only heard her make toward her sister whenever Sorche really angered her. “Oh don’t even think that imperial gesture works on me, boy.”

He smiled at Zarya’s rage. “I’m too weak to argue with the two of you. Z, please. Have mercy on me and go rest. In case this doesn’t work, I want to have time to come to terms with it on my own before you see me, okay? I just… I want to face it without an audience. And Mari, you’re the only one I trust to keep her safe for me. Please. I’m begging you both to go home and get some sleep. For me.”

Zarya wanted to argue, but the pain in his voice kept her from it. Darling was being honest with them and while she was worried sick about him, the last thing she wanted was to add to his stress. Not to mention, she had a baby to think about now.

Torn between caring for their baby and staying with Darling, she met Maris’s gaze.

He hesitated before he nodded.

“All right,” she relented. “We’ll go. But you better not get worse after we leave. I meant it. I will skin you alive if anything happens to you.”

“And I will hand her the knife to do it,” Maris added.

Ryn crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll hold him down for you both.”