Wicked Ones {bxb}

{Chapter 51 : Proposition}

"Oh don't worry, Kailan. We're going to turn you into something great."

Sage's grinning face was the last thing Kailan saw before he launched up from bed with a soundless gasp. Like always, he partly expected to awake to the drab, dreary white of Ethereal Tech's cell floor. But his eyes adjusted to darkness and nothing more. It wasn't a dream he'd experienced, but a memory of what he endured. His mind loved giving him these nightmares, letting him relive everything late into the night.

Pressing a palm over his eyes, Kailan slipped out of the bed, mindful of Vinny sleeping sound beside him. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, but watching it run from the faucet, Kailan was stolen away by his thoughts.

It had been weeks since his rescue, and he was practically a fully functioning citizen again. He'd been evaluated four times over—once for his general health and three times more for his hand. The specialists were perplexed by the science behind it. They said with tedious work, the prosthetic could be removed, but they were also sure to mention that any other prosthetic Kailan could have ever received would pale in comparison. The technology just wasn't on the market yet, and this hand of his—the one the doctor had called Caroline—was the most advanced they'd ever laid their eyes on. He'd decided in the end to keep it. He would never get his hand back; taking away the substitute wouldn't do him any good.

X-rays were taken of the chip in his head, the images sent off to be evaluated by experts. Until then, he was urged to avoid close contact with magnets, but no one seemed concerned. The chip was small, they'd said. A minuscule fragment attached to the outer side of his frontal lobe, but they knew little of it and removing the chip safely would be a difficult task.

For now, Kailan was glad to finally be away from the bright lights and lab coats. All they'd done was make it harder to forget, and he was having a difficult enough time as it was. These nightmares had a way to dig deep, and night after night, they'd deprived him of sleep.

Kailan snapped from his thoughts and when he realized he'd left the faucet running, he shut the water off and wiped at his eyes. It had been happening to him a lot lately—zoning out of reality at the worst of times. But like everything else, those sparse, hazy moments were growing rarer. Like the perfume of bleach, and the recollection of Forrest's young, beaming face, they were beginning to sink into a very shallow pool of normalcy. He just had to hold himself together a bit longer—just long enough to get back on his meds. He'd be okay, then.

Pouring an excessive amount from the glass, he glanced to the clock on the oven; the steady green glow flashed again and again, five-twenty in the morning. Vinny had to wake for work in ten minutes, but to Kailan, ten minutes felt like an agonizingly perpetual forever.

He looked to the glass and watched the surface of the water tremble, but Kailan wouldn't drink any. Instead, he set it aside and dropped his face into his hands, his body shuddering as he suppressed a sob. He wasn't going to cry, not again. Kailan had shed enough tears to last him a lifetime.

He forced himself to swallow a single sip of water and poured the rest away. Once his mind settled—once the night sweats and trembling had stopped—he returned to the bed and slipped noiselessly into the sheets beside Vinny.

Kailan read his posture—the way Vinny laid on his back with an arm folded beneath his head as if he was ready to leap from his sleep at any given moment. He'd been sleeping this way a lot lately, always on guard even in the most vulnerable of times. Smirking, Kailan reached for his face and followed the indent of his temple. His fingers feathered over the hill of Vinny's cheekbone, and down his square jaw. Then his knuckles came to rest on the side of his neck, fingers relaxing into a natural curl.