Dexter glanced over at Saracen's bowl, again. He had been doing so for almost an hour. They were in a picking competition (though Saracen didn't know it yet), and Dexter was determined to win. Somehow, though, despite Saracen's oblivion and noncompetitiveness, he picked faster than Dexter. Both of them were at Valkyrie's house, picking at her blueberry bushes; she had invited them to do so. Saracen looked at him, "What?"
"What, what?" Dexter blinked innocently.
"You keep looking at me," Saracen said.
"No, I don't," Dexter said. Saracen held his gaze for another moment, then looked back at the blueberries, dismissing Dexter. He had been acting quieter than usual, and suspicion was beginning to bubble in Dexter's mind, and he was nervous that Saracen was going through something. Maybe something had happened to him, and considering their job, the possibilities were endless. Dexter couldn't help but jump to the worst possibilities; Saracen was rarely out of it, and when he was, it was usually the result of a mission. Even then, Dexter was usually there for him.
In his daydreaming, Dexter had accidentally dazed out, his gaze still on Saracen. Saracen had noticed and was looking at Dexter questioningly. Dexter smiled dumbly.
"Dex-" Saracen raised his eyebrows, "Why are you looking at me?"
"I just dazed out," Dexter said.
"So you've been dazed out for the past hour?" Saracen asked.
Dexter nodded, "Yes."
"That is highly unlikely," Saracen rolled his eyes and changed focus to another bush, but as he turned away, he cut himself on a branch. "Shit," he cursed.
"Are you OK?" Dexter took a step closer to Saracen to see how deep he had been cut.
"I'm fine," Saracen groaned, shrugging it off.
"You're not even going to look at it?" Dexter questioned.
Saracen shook his head, "It was just a little branch, Dexter." But apparently, that was not true, because Dexter could see a glimpse of red soaking Saracen's sweater. Dexter reached out to it, Saracen yanked his wrist back and looked at Dexter accusingly, "What are you doing?!"
"You're bleeding!" Dexter exclaimed.
Saracen stepped away, "I'm fine. I'll go take care of it."
Dexter followed him, putting his bowl of blueberries down, "Just let me help you." He put his hand on Saracen's shoulder and turned him around. Saracen winced.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Dexter frowned, and reached down to grab Saracen's wrist, "Let me help."
"Dex" Saracen warned, but he did not back away. Dexter slid Saracen's sleeve up, and he didn't comprehend what he was seeing at first: half-healed cuts were littered messily all over Saracen's wrist.
"What…" Dexter trailed off. He looked up at Saracen, who looked away, so Dexter looked back down. One of the scars- a more recent one- had opened, and blood leaked from the wound. It wasn't a lot of blood, though, and it collected into a bubble at the top of the wound. Gently, Dexter lifted his shirt to the cut and wiped off the blood. He looked up at Saracen again, who was still avoiding eye contact, so instead, Dexter pulled Saracen closer and hugged him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Dexter breathed.
"I don't know," Saracen muttered.
"What happened," Dexter asked, and Saracen didn't respond. Dexter pulled away and sighed, knowing he was not going to get anything from Saracen, at least not right now. He picked up his bowl of blueberries and poured all of its contents into Saracen's bowl, and said, "I'll let you win."
"Win what?"
"Our blueberry picking contest."
"We weren't having a contest," Saracen said.
Dexter pat Saracen's head, "Yes, we were. And Ilet you win." Saracen rolled his eyes before going back to picking, but Dexter came up from behind him. "One more hug," Dexter grinned as he wrapped his arms around Saracen.
"Thank you."
"And later," Dexter added, "We're going to talk."
Saracen exhaled, "We'll see."