What Happens in Vienna {ManxMan}

CHAPTER 10 (Tobias)

I don't think I've ever experienced the same pain I felt when Carter pulled away from me. It was a pain akin to being stabbed through the chest with a hot iron, and shocked me so badly that when he slowly returned his hand to its former position, letting me grasp onto it, I refused to lessen my hold, using him as a kind of anchor to reassure myself he was likely just startled, he didn't jerk away for a bad reason, he nearly died, and it was understandable that he was jumpy.

Even when he'd passed out from the medicine Adalwolf gave him I refused to let go, threading the fingers of my right hand through his left and cupping my left hand around the back of his just for extra security and support. My elbows were propped against the mattress, holding his hand close as I watched him sleep, Adalwolf working on his other side, checking the stitching of his leg and reapplying clean bandages and salve.

I could feel the older man's eyes boring into me, but ignored him successfully until he spoke, "Alright," he said, "What is your deal?"

I tore my gaze away from Carter so I could give my doctor an innocent look of curiosity, "Hm?"

"Don't you hm me," he snapped, "Bryn has been going crazy because of this boy being close to you, and now I see why. In all my years working here, I have never once seen you willingly touch someone's hand, let along cling to one like you're afraid they'll disappear the moment you let go."

Heat rushed my face and I dropped Carter's hand, yanking my arms back like I'd been caught doing something wrong, feeling guilty at the way Carter curled his fingers unconsciously into the sheets, murmuring, "Not sure what you're referring to," I defended, and Adalwolf snorted, pushing away and tugging the blankets back over Carter's leg.

"Figured it would happen eventually, never expected it to be some ginger you picked up off the street," he was muttering to himself, checking the fluids in Carter's IV before moving to assess the condition of the stitches in his side, "What's more he's our captive, which Bryn is thrilled about."

"Quit muttering under your breath and speak up!" I snapped, and he gave me a scolding look that I shied away from.

"Don't raise your voice to your elders," he chastised, and I rolled my eyes, "You care about this boy, so you better watch out for him. Frankly I think it's a bad idea falling for him. You were doing just fine without him here, now you're getting attached. It's not good for you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked through clenched teeth, and Adalwolf pulled the covers up to Carter's chest before leaning towards me.

"This boy isn't from here," he said, "He comes from another group entirely. One that, from what I've heard, likely doesn't take to their people being held hostage. You can't keep him here forever; you must realize that. His people will come for him, and when that happens you'll have to let him go, but letting yourself get attached will just make it far more painful for you, and I don't look forward to watching you drink yourself into a coma."

I just glared at him, my eyes narrowing, "I'm not getting attached," I said, standing up, "and I can do what I want. Thank you for looking out for him, if you don't mind I'd like Kiefer or Sasha to sit with him until he wakes up."

When I turned Adalwolf tried to stop me, "Where are you going?"

"Work," I said, shutting the door with a less than graceful slam that I hoped didn't wake Carter up.

Attached.

The very idea had me reeling.

I've never been attached to anything in my life. Maybe there were a few books on my shelf that I coveted more than others, and I admit that if anything happened to Kiefer, Klaus, Sasha or Bryn then I would have a fit, but what Adalwolf was suggesting was something entirely different than friendship or material possession.