11/16/2017
Bedrest
With his microchip gone and a new respirator available, after a few days, Shalua deemed Nero well enough to leave the mako pod. Although the misadventure with Omega and Hellmasker had proved Nero was able to breathe without the respirator, he continued to wear it.
"His lungs are still healing," Shalua explained. "He may not need it, but it will help speed his recovery."
Vincent wasn't so sure. Nero had thrown everyone into a blind panic when he'd stopped breathing while asleep his first night out of the mako pod. This had triggered an alarm which started him awake and solved the problem- though it had taken Shelke, Vincent, and two orderlies to calm him down. Despite this, Shalua tried to engage Nero in a sort of respiratory therapy by coaxing him to breathe without the mask for a few minutes each day. So far, it wasn't going well, and Vincent thought he knew why.
"Don't push him too hard on this," he cautioned her. "The Restrictors used suffocation as a method of punishment with him."
Shalua's remaining eye grew wide with horror. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry! I had no idea."
She made certain that Nero knew that he could refuse to participate if he didn't feel well enough. Nero seemed to understand, and must have felt secure enough to believe her, for the next few times she asked, he politely declined.
Although the damage to his skin had long since healed, Nero's recovery was far from over. He'd spent nearly a month in the tank, and while SOLDIER grade nutrient drip had kept him from starving, Nero had emerged looking even more emaciated than when the night patrol had first brought him to the WRO and into their lives.
Not trusting the quality of hospital food- though empty calories would not hurt Nero, and he wasn't what anyone would call picky- Veld brought food to Nero as often as he could. ALthough he had no appetite, Nero dutifully accepted. After the first mouthful, however, he must have realized how truly hungry he was, and ate with gratefulness and humility that bordered on shame. Veld let it pass; survivor guilt wasn't something to be persuaded away. Veld did not stay to watch Nero finish. It was obvious the boy wasn't comfortable around him, though it took Veld several days to puzzle out why.
"I am angry with you," Veld said when next he came to visit, tone low and gentle, but with steel beneath. "Angry and hurt that you think so little of yourself. Whether you know it or not, you have value, and not simply as a soldier."
That made Nero look up, confusion plain on what was visible of this face.
"Sir?" he rasped.
Despite himself, Veld smiled. Apparently he would forever be 'Sir' to Nero.
"I know it may not make sense to you, but there are quite a number of people who've gotten attached to you, myself included. Call it a Surface quirk, if you want," Veld suggested when Nero's perplexed look did not shift. "Up here, people matter. You matter. So hurry up and get better so I can dress you down properly."
Behind the mask, Nero's cheekbones lifted briefly and Veld felt the last stubborn holdout against paternal instinct crack and crumble away. Unable to reply verbally, Nero gave a nod and offered a salute. Sir. Yes, Sir.
With Nero stabilized, Vincent had no excuse not to go home at least overnight. Nero might not want to see him, but Veld did. If he were honest, they both needed a break. At long last they could breathe, relax a bit, dare to hope that Nero would heal in body if not in spirit. Nero wasn't the only one who needed time to rest and recover.
Veld rose every day around six o'clock, even on weekends. Vincent didn't always wake when Veld did; stasis was more like death than heavy sleep, and it took a while to come back to consciousness. Waking on his own, at six-fifteen, and finding Veld still in bed beside him was a bit of a shock.
"Morning, spook," said Veld, yawning. "You feeling better?"
"Yeah," said Vincent, noting the shadows around Veld's eyes. "First real sleep I've had since Nero went into the hospital."
"Good." Veld's smile brought out lines of fatigue, etched deep into his face. He rose, moving slowly, grumbling a bit about old knees. "I'll get the coffee started if you wanna shower first."
Thinking of Vincent before himself, as usual. Vincent watched him walk out the door, and made a decision.
He managed to catch Reeve in the elevator, on his way to yet another meeting.
"Vincent. How's Nero?"
"He's getting better, thanks," said Vincent. "Slowly, but it's progress. Reeve, I have a favor to ask."
"Name it," Reeve said, and listened while Vincent talked.
He nodded. "Absolutely. I'll email a new schedule to you both. Let me know if you need anything else."
"I will. Thanks, Reeve."
Stopping in at the hospital a little later, Vincent sought out Shalua, and followed her down the hall, explaining the idea he'd had that morning. She smiled, and patted his shoulder.
"That's great, Vincent. You tell him I said to take full advantage of it. Nero will be fine."
Even though Nero wasn't willing to see him, Vincent still checked in with Shelke, Nero's constant companion, at least twice a day.
"He's doing as well as expected," she reassured him. "He's just...not ready for visitors. I'll call you if he changes his mind."
Vincent had to be content with that.
He made certain to accompany Veld home that evening, and opened the door. Veld stepped inside, and stopped, Turk senses on full alert, not that it took any special instinct to smell the savory aromas emanating from the kitchen.
"Gods of Gaia," said Veld, eyes wide. "You didn't-?"
"Of course not. I had it catered." Grinning, Vincent ushered Veld into the dining room, where the table, set for two, gleamed with silver and crystal on ice-white linen. "Sit, Veld. Tonight you're not going to do a thing except relax."
Veld complied, while Vincent did his best imitation of a waiter, bringing covered dishes out of the kitchen, serving the food and pouring wine, lighting two tall white candles. When he finally sat down, he raised his glass, wine glowing like garnet in the candle-light.
"This is for you, Veld. For everything you've done for me since Nero turned up. Especially-"
His voice caught, and he took a moment to settle it. "Especially since Nero… Since he got hurt. I couldn't have done it on my own. Thank you."
Veld touched his glass to Vincent's. "I'd do it again, Vince. Anytime."
"I know. And that's why I love you."
Prime rib, baked fennel with creme fraiche, and a side of saffron rice, far surpassed anything Vincent could have managed on his own. Dessert was poached pears with honey and ginger. Veld critiqued everything, made notes, and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
"Thank you," he said later, ensconced in his favorite chair, sipping from a mug of steaming black coffee laced with rum. "That was amazing. We need to visit that restaurant."
"How about tomorrow?"
Veld chuckled. "I don't think I could handle anything that luxurious two days in a row. But soon."
In the morning, Vincent watched as Veld woke, blinking, and glanced at the watch on his wrist.
"Eight o'clock?" He looked at Vincent, eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"
"Nothing, except let you sleep. You were exhausted."
"...Okay." Veld sat up, and let out a grunt of surprise as Vincent pushed him back down.
"Stay. You've got the day off."
"Says who?"
"Says Reeve," Vincent said. "As a matter of fact, you've got today and the next two days off."
"The next-what?" Veld shook his head, pushing the blankets aside. "I can't take three days off in a row! There's way too much going on."
What he was too polite to say was that so much time with Nero and himself had created a truly impressive backlog of work. Veld had been taking half-days and fitting in what he could while still caring for Vincent and his son. Now it was Vincent's turn to take care of Veld.
"It's being handled." Vincent yanked the blankets back. "Judit's taking over for you today and tomorrow, and Reeve postponed the meeting that was scheduled the day after that. You're officially off of work, Veld. Now don't make me sit on you."
He smirked, watching Veld's face. "Unless you want me to."
Veld glared, but he couldn't hold onto it. A grin broke free, both lighter and more suggestive than anything Vincent had seen on him for weeks. "Well, if you're offering….I guess I have no choice."
"We've got three days," Vincent purred, leaning over him. "Time to explore lots of choices."
Veld laughed. "We'd better get started then…"
Almost as hard as Vincent to shoo home to get some rest was Shelke. Shalua had not anticipated her sister to be as invested in Nero's recovery as she was. Yes, they had been friends and squadmates in Deepground, but apparently their relationship ran deeper than that. Or maybe it was because they were the only Tsviets left.
Shelke had dropped everything almost as completely as Vincent had. Not caring if she was fired, she spent every available moment with Nero. No doubt she knew as his last remaining tie to Deepground, to his family, how precious she had become to him.
"Vincent loves you, you know," she told him softly. Both of them lay curled together on the narrow hospital bed. Shelke was tiny, and Nero's body so thin that they fit quite comfortably.
"No…" Nero wheezed. It required more air than he truly possessed to speak, reducing every word to a ragged whisper. "Unless that's something different up here."
"What happened was horrible, but it was an accident. Chaos is in his head the same way Omega's in yours. Believe me, if he had known…"
"I'm not angry," Nero rasped. "I'm scared. And confused."
"Confused?" Shelke echoed, brow creasing.
"Why…" Nero had to stop and gasp for a moment. "Why didn't he kill you too?"
"He thought I was a child," she shrugged. "I've never met Chaos. Vincent thought he was rescuing me, just like you tried to rescue me from him. Kids are valuable up here, even after they grow up. You're part of Vincent the way you're a part of your brother."
Nero thought about that. "I still don't understand. Before this...he didn't know I existed."
"What did you think the first time you saw him?" Shelke wanted to know.
For many minutes Nero lay silent, collecting words and the air with which to speak them.
"I thought… I thought there must have been another brother the Restrictors hadn't told me about. An older one, maybe. I thought… I thought…"
"You thought maybe he would like you, that you would like him. He had your face; maybe you'd have something else in common," Shelke finished.
"Yes," Nero rasped and huddled closer.
"Do you get it now?" she asked, rubbing her forehead against his. "Does it make more sense?"
"Yes…" He had to pause, take several labored breaths. "Maybe… Maybe he didn't kill them personally," he wheezed. "Doesn't make them any less dead."
A furious fit of coughing overtook him and Shelke thought seriously about calling a nurse.
"I'm not...angry. I've seen the big guy, the angry one. Haven't seen the wolf. He's got literal demons. I get that." Nero paused, chest heaving. Hesitantly, Shelke laid a hand on his arm. Nero covered it with his own long-fingered hand. Shelke smiled to see that some Surface culture was rubbing off on him.
"I'm not angry," Nero repeated, "but I can't trust him. Either of them."
"They didn't set you up," Shelke said, voicing his thoughts. "This wasn't planned. Like you said, they didn't even know you existed until a couple months ago, and that was long after Chaos ransacked Deepground."
Too winded to speak, he nodded. Nero was aware his paranoia was just that, but it was an old and hard-learned reflex; difficult to shut off. Shelke just watched his face as if searching for a way to comfort, to explain, to help him past the pain.
"He just wants to help," Shelke went on. "He wants to try to make it better."
"He can't."
It wasn't said in bitterness, or even despair. It was just a simple statement of fact. Their family was dead. They were not coming back. That was all there was to it.
"I can't face him," the words were panted and shallow. "Not now. Not yet. It hurts."
Shelke nodded thoughtfully. "That's fair."
"Did anyone…?"
She shook her head. "No, it's just you and me, and I was too worried about you."
It was Nero's turn to nod. "Also fair."
"We'll take care of it once you're up to it," Shelke promised.
"Okay."