It took Jeffrey a minute to realize where he was. The pain helped, as did the steady beeping and whirring of nearby machinery. He was in a hospital bed. He was alive – safe, even. That part he still didn't understand.
He grimaced as he lifted his head to look at himself. He wasn't very encouraged. The hospital bed was positioned so that his legs were elevated. His knee was wrapped thickly with gauze and cohesive bandages. His ankle was splinted and supported with tape. His right wrist was already in a plaster cast. So it had broken. Fantastic. His left was covered in a removable black brace. An IV was dripping fluids into his arm. A few of the bandages over his stitches peeked out from the sleeve of his hospital gown. The rest of them were hidden, but he knew how many there were. That part he had been awake for. Overall, he was a certifiable disaster. Also fantastic.
A nurse stood next to him checking the readings on an EKG. She turned when she heard him stir.
"Welcome back," she said, saccharine and syrupy. "How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?"
Her voice made his head hurt. He wondered if she meant welcome back to consciousness or welcome back from, well, captivity. Hopefully not the second option.
"Comfortable? Uh, no. Not really." He tried to sound polite, but he was being honest. It even hurt to breathe. At least he could breathe. No one was strangling him anymore. His voice hadn't come back. He didn't know if getting choked had broken it, or if he had screamed himself hoarse.
"I have painkillers ready for you, if you would like," said the nurse. "OxyContin is really powerful; you'll feel a lot better."
Jeffrey considered that. "Would it make me high?"
The nurse smiled. "Not likely. Drowsiness is the more common side effect, especially for the amount of pain you must be feeling."
"I'm good, thanks," said Jeffrey. He was surprisingly sure of that. He wanted to be alert and coherent. He refused to waste time he could spend with his family by sleeping. At this point, he was used to pain. "Can you—" He coughed. His throat stung. "Can you get my parents, please?"
"Sure, honey," she said. "They're right outside."
She opened the door and Jeffrey's stomach fluttered, a little from nerves and a little from postoperative nausea. His mother entered first, practically sprinting into the room. Jeffrey's breath caught in his chest. His head fell back into the pillow as it spun from a happiness so overwhelming it was its own painkiller. He stared up at the ceiling, the lights swimming as his eyes filled with tears. Mrs. Tifton rushed to his bedside. He forced himself to sit up. He felt the sharp pain, but strangely, it didn't seem to hurt. He carefully pulled the IV from his arm and tossed it away. Blood bubbled from the injection site, but if his mother didn't care, he didn't. She had him in her arms before he had time to prepare himself for it. She was gentle, but Jeffrey squeezed her like his life depended on it. Mrs. Tifton cried. She whispered his name over and over, telling him that she loved him. Jeffrey didn't trust himself to speak.
Another hand rested on Jeffrey's shoulder. He glanced up and made eye contact with his father. Mrs. Tifton felt him there. She held Jeffrey for another second or two, then she backed away. He didn't get to hug Alec for quite as long.
"Jeffrey?" the nurse said with incredible patience. "I'm sorry, but I need to wrap your arm. Now."
Jeffrey looked down and winced from embarrassment. Blood coated his forearm, thick and dark red.
"Sorry," he told the nurse. "My bad."
Mrs. Tifton covered her mouth, clearly distressed. At first Jeffrey thought it was from all of the blood, then he realized it was his voice.
The nurse pressed a thick square of gauze over the injection site. She wiped the blood away with alcohol wipes. She cleaned what she could from the bed, but it still stained the sheets. She finished up by wrapping a cohesive bandage around Jeffrey's elbow.
"I'm going to set this timer for three minutes," said the nurse. "I need you to keep putting pressure on that until it goes off, okay?"
Jeffrey held a finger over the bandage. He gave the nurse a guilty smile. He could sense her exasperation. She took a bottle of water from a cabinet and set it on a tray next to him.
"And please, drink that. If you don't want the IV, that's fine, but I need you to get liquid in you."
Jeffrey nodded. "I feel like you're about to give me detention."
The nurse laughed. "I've dealt with much worse, I'll let you off with a warning. But next time you're in trouble." She gathered up a couple of charts and made for the door. "I'll give you guys a moment. If you need anything, press that green button to your right."
Alone and with the initial reunion out of the way, Jeffrey suddenly felt awkward and exposed.
"So…hi." That did nothing to help with the awkwardness and having both of his parents in the same room together wasn't making it any easier. In six years, he could only think of one time he had experienced that. His two lives that he kept very, very separate were colliding, and it freaked him out.
Mrs. Tifton's eyes were dry, but full of heartbreak. "Look at you," she whispered. She held a hand to Jeffrey's face. It trailed down his neck and stopped. She kept it there while she examined the marks Dexter's chain had left behind. He could feel his pulse under her thumb. He didn't fault her for staring, but he felt like he was under a microscope. He hadn't seen it yet, but it was undoubtedly bad. He'd caught the horrified look on Skye's face when she had put two and two together. It was the exact expression his mother was wearing now.
"He strangled you?" said Mrs. Tifton. She was struggling to speak like she was getting strangled herself.
Jeffrey had expected this line of questioning, but that didn't make him any more ready to answer. He tried to laugh it off. "Once or twice." The sarcasm didn't come through. It was impossible to joke about.
Mrs. Tifton kissed his forehead. A tear dripped from her face and landed on the side of Jeffrey's nose. "I love you, baby. I'm so sorry."
Jeffrey took her hand down from his neck and held it in his. It was difficult for him to do with his wrist in a brace, but he curled his fingers around it. He lay back on the bed, exhausted by the effort it took to merely sit up. Alec pulled a chair over for Mrs. Tifton before sitting in one himself.
As Jeffrey watched him, he realized that he had to know something. He didn't want to, exactly, but still, he had to. It would eat away at him forever if he didn't. "Alec, did you get—" His throat closed, and again he had to cough to clear it out. "Did you get anything from Dexter?"
Mrs. Tifton spun toward Alec, startled. "Did you?"
Alec's eyes darted between her and Jeffrey. "Yes." He sounded as hoarse and voiceless as Jeffrey was.
Jeffrey felt his face heat up. He had so hoped Dexter had just been messing with him. "Okay," he said. He thought back to what had all been in that video. Chains, a gag, him hanging from his ankles. Dexter had probably hit him, but he couldn't remember. Shit. "That's embarrassing."
"Embarrassing? No, Jeffrey," said Alec. "You fought through all of that and you won. That's nothing to be ashamed of. You inspire me."
Jeffrey could have cried. He didn't feel like much of an inspiration. He certainly didn't feel like he had won anything. If this was winning, victory needed a full renovation. He wished he wasn't, but he was ashamed. Deeply. Still, his father's words did ebb a small piece of that away.
"What are you talking about? What did he send you?" Mrs. Tifton demanded.
Alec sighed. "Uh, it was just a…um…"
"He sent him a video." Jeffrey's voice cracked on the last word. "Of me."
Mrs. Tifton's brimming eyes grew large and round. "When?"
"Sunday morning," said Alec.
"Four days ago? Alec!" said Mrs. Tifton. "You've been hiding that this whole time?"
"Trust me, Brenda. You did not want to see it."
"That's not what I meant," Mrs. Tifton murmured. "You were dealing with that all by yourself?"
She placed her free hand over Alec's. Jeffrey's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead, then furrowed in confusion. His mouth fell open, but he snapped it shut the second he noticed. He quickly turned his head, pretending there was nothing to see. Then, unable to resist, he stole another glance. Yep. There was his mother's hand, still definitely resting on top of his father's.
"Jane saw it," said Alec. He didn't look remotely surprised by Mrs. Tifton's touch. "I wasn't paying attention; I should have stopped her. It made her faint."
"That's horrible."
Jeffrey's cheeks were hot again. The timer beeped. Jeffrey had not held pressure on his wrapped elbow. Whoops. It didn't seem to be bleeding.
"Yeah," Alec agreed. "What's embarrassing, Jeffrey, is I lost my cool and punched a hole in the wall."
"Kind of badass, actually," said Jeffrey. He was decidedly not watching as Alec rotated his hand around to intertwine it with Mrs. Tifton's.
"Apparently I get that from you."
Jeffrey's gaze flicked back down to parents' clasped hands. They could be teasing him, trying to tell him something without actually saying it, or were emotions running so high they didn't realize what they were doing?
"If you get it from me, then I get it from Skye." Immediately, Jeffrey felt the need to brag about her. Maybe brag wasn't the right word, given the context. He wanted his parents to appreciate her as much as she deserved. "Remember when Dexter called you and that detective tried convincing him to let Skye go?"
"Of course, sweetheart," said Mrs. Tifton. It was not a fond memory.
"He hung up all dramatic like "now they both get to die," but actually, it worked. She did convince him," said Jeffrey. "He left the door open and said she could go. I was stuck, but she wasn't restrained at all. I told her to go, I cussed her out and everything."
"But she didn't," said Alec.
Jeffrey shook his head. "She wouldn't leave me."
"She broke down today, screaming and crying. It was hard to watch," said Mrs. Tifton. "She kept apologizing to me for abandoning you."
Jeffrey exhaled, briefly irritated. "I hate her sometimes. Abandoning me? He dragged her out by her neck! He said he was going to kill her. I – I thought he did."
Jeffrey swallowed the lump that formed in his throat from the memory. Panicked didn't begin to describe how he'd felt, nor did empty or broken describe how he'd felt after. If Skye hadn't been there to greet him, or if he'd had to deal with everyone being so happy to see him, knowing that he'd gotten Skye killed, he wasn't sure he would have made it.
"That's not even all of it," he said. He had to tread carefully here. He wouldn't say anything that might expose Skye. "Do you know what he did to her?"
Alec and Mrs. Tifton looked at each other uncomfortably.
"I think we have a pretty good idea," said Mrs. Tifton.
"Right, well, there's a reason why." Jeffrey draped his right arm across his body, flinching from the pain that stabbed through his ribs. He poked out his index finger. A thin red cut was sliced across the knuckle. "I kind of need my fingers for music, so he thought it would funny if he…" Jeffrey wriggled his fingers as if checking that they were in fact still there. "Cut them off."
"Christ," Alec hissed.
Mrs. Tifton bit her lip and did her best not to sob.
"He said he was going to take away what I love most." Jeffrey curled his fingers into a fist and gasped in pain. He'd forgotten about his sprained wrist. "So Skye told him that was her. She thought it would stop him." He pulled his hand from his mother's so he could display all ten of his fingers, connected to his hands just as they should be. He thought about the reason Dexter had left them intact, so he could make him…Jeffrey's jaw clenched. "And it did."
Jeffrey turned his head away as tears flooded into his eyes. Dexter forcing himself on Skye played over in his mind. He was afraid if his parents saw his face, they would read his thoughts and know exactly what had happened. He walked himself through his next few breaths and pulled himself together. For some reason, he kept talking.
"He'd hardly even touched her, but after that he—" Jeffrey choked. He could still hear Skye screaming. His ears rang with every vile thing Dexter had called her, gloating like he had won a prize. "He wouldn't leave her alone. Just to make me watch him hurt her."
At some point, his mother had taken her hand back from Alec. She had them tightly clasped in front of her face like she was praying.
"She sacrificed herself to save my stupid hand." Jeffrey almost sounded angry. To be fair, he was, but it wasn't because of Skye. Jeffrey doubted he would ever find it in him to be mad at her again. She could walk all over him and he would still owe her the world.
It took about three minutes for anyone to work up the courage to say something. It was a hard announcement to follow.
"I think," said Mrs. Tifton. She was visibly shaking. "It goes without saying that I am the worst judge of character alive."
Jeffrey wanted to tease her, say that on a scale of one to ten, she was a negative ten, but humor didn't fit the situation. He kept that thought to himself.
"Do you want to see her?" His mother asked.
Jeffrey nodded. He doubted it was even possible for him to want something more.
A/N: I was listening to Point Mouette on the way to work today and can we all agree that Dexter actually simps so hard for Mrs. Tifton like this man volunteered to drive ALL NIGHT LONG BY HIMSELF (that is a safety hazard ma'am don't let him do that) to go get HER kid for her because "she was too upset to make the trip." Bitch get your ass in the car you can cry on the way there.
Lowkey goals.
I'm kidding I can't write this and then make that joke. Now I feel gross.
But at the same time my bf complains about getting me water when he's already in the kitchen so...
He definitely divorced her cause he was tired of being her bitch. She deserved a redemption arc in the last book I STAND. BY. THAT.
Also not me having a crush on Jeffrey when i was like eight and then growing up to simp for Alec.
I know no one who has read these books so I'm getting my commentary out here. Apologies.
