Chapter Text
The infusion center was cold. Clean, cold, and clinical. Inej supposed the openness and white light that reflected off the flat surfaces helped ensure sterilization standards. But surely there was a way to make a place sterile without it looking so… sterile. Even with the high windows, Inej felt claustrophobic.
She did her best to stuff that feeling down. The nurse led them to the end of a big room. ‘’Here we are.’’
Inej smiled in thanks. Maybe being right near a window would help.
The nurse promised to return shortly. She disappeared around the partition, leaving Inej and Kaz alone.
Inej supposed all of the divisions of this big room were the same; portioned off with nothing but a chair, ottoman, and cart in them. There were several TVs handing on the walls, each showing a different picture. Who could possible watch all those different channels at the same time? Each muted, to boot?
‘’Well…’’ Inej perched on the ottoman, placing the overpacked bag Nina sent with them at her feet. ‘’What do you think?’’
Kaz unhooked his mask, giving their surroundings a look of scrutiny. He wrinkled his nose. ‘’You’d think the medical field would’ve found a way to make cleaning chemicals not smell so strong.’’
‘’At least it is clean.’’
‘’One would hope so.’’ Kaz looked to the window, something in his glance mimicking Inej’s own feelings.
He hesitated before finally sitting in the chair. His unease made Inej painfully aware of her own. She tried to make herself look nonchalant, adjusting her legs to sit crossed on the ottoman. She realized she already hated this place. She shouldn’t; goodness knows there were places in the world that would love to have such a specialized medical center. There were probably more than a few people a this very moment scheming to get their way into Kerch in search of treatment, and a few dozens of its citizens already here wishing they had the means to even enter the lobby of this pearly white, sanitized light. But still, Inej hated it. Because being here meant something was wrong and out of her power to fix. It made her feel weak, cornered. Trapped in a fight and woefully unaware what weapons she had at her disposal, let alone if they would work.
The worst part was that Kaz clearly felt the same. The days leading up to this appointment had been marked by comments from their partners about hopes for some improvement. But Kaz, having already suffered several medication failures, held as little hope for this new treatment as he had the last one. Inej hated to admit it, but so did she. It wasn’t the medications so much, but the fact they were here, in a strange, sterile environment, foreign hands having to prick him with needles while he stayed seated for an undetermined length of time. It seemed a recipe for disaster.
But Kaz had been stoic and compliant ever since the appointment was made. Probably because he was trying not to make Wylan cry again. Credit where credit was due.
Maybe Inej was becoming too pessimistic. Maybe today was the day they found the thing that would help Kaz recover. Or at the very least, slow his decline.
Footsteps clipped on the cold tile, indicating someone approaching. Kaz slipped his mask back on. A wise precaution, but Inej couldn’t help but wonder if it were the benefit of hiding his expression that was the main motivator.
The nurse launched into the same slew of chatter the doctors, research, and information packet they read prior to the appointment had imparted. Inej tried to follow along, but there was something about these surroundings and words like ‘IV’, ‘2-4 hours’, and ‘side-effects’ that made her chest ache. Pangs of alarm rang through her head, and she really just wanted to explain this had all been a mistake and take Kaz’s hand and run. That window was looking like a pretty good escape route right about now.
But Kaz was nodding along, using that crisp and proper tone that bolstered the illusion of an obedient law abiding citizen. Perfectly pleasant. A model patient.
Because really, when you’re sick, what choice do you have?
As Kaz discarded his coat and tugged up his shirt sleeve, Inej took the opportunity to procure a coffee. She hadn’t planned on it, but she successfully killed about seven minutes in her noble search and returned to the assigned little corner with the murky, room temperature liquid.
Kaz was alone, hands resting on the arms of the chair, the infusion IV snaking it’s way from the pole into his skin. ‘’You missed the fun part,’’ he greeted blandly.
‘’Damn,’’ Inej lamented. ‘’How many times did she stab you?’’
‘’Only three.’’
‘’Wow, that’s a record.’’
‘’I applauded her efforts.’’ Even with the mask, Inej could read his appraising gaze. ‘’Since when are you squeamish of needles?’’
‘’Since always,’’ Inej lied. In truth, if it were her own arm being pricked, she didn’t think she’d have a problem. But there was only so many times one could watch their partner be unsuccessfully stuck with sharp objects.
Inej resumed her perch on the ottoman, tugging forward the folding chair the nurse vacated to use as a table. She sipped her coffee— disgusting— before placing it down. ‘’Okay,’’ she said, reaching for their bag as a change of topic, ‘’Let’s see what Nina packed.’’
‘’Judging by the size, I’d say our lives. Are you sure she didn’t throw us out?’’
‘’Ha.’’ Inej hefted the bag onto her lap with a wince. ‘’Saints, then again…’’ She rifled through. ‘’Let’s see; sweatshirt for you, sweatshirt for me. Water, cookies— half opened. Thanks, Jes… Video game and hand held console— no doubt a Wylan addition. A book, graphic novel. Crosswords, pen and— oh, god, Matthias left a knife in here.’’
‘’How do you know it’s not one of yours?’’
‘’Please.’’ Inej sniffed. ‘’I’m guessing Nina didn’t ask before taking this.’’
‘’Well, as long as security doesn’t see.’’
‘’And the most important thing.’’ Inej pulled out two cords. ‘’Phone chargers. Two of them. And they’re the long ones. Thinks of everything, doesn’t she?’’
‘’It’s certainly more than we brought.’'
‘’Yeah…’’ Inej reluctantly took another sip of her coffee. ‘’So… anything strike your fancy?’’
Kaz shook his head. ‘’I’m good.’’
If she were in a more sarcastic mood, Inej might quip he definitely wasn’t. Maybe it was the whiteness of all their surroundings, but he looked even paler now. His hands were holding the armrest of the chair with an unnatural and uncomfortable looking grip. He hadn’t moved his arm. Inej wondered if the IV hurt.
They were quite for a while. Inej was aware that this silence was why he picked her to go along with him. No matter who was hurt or sick, all of them and their partners could be counted on. But she and Kaz understood each other and their triggers in a way the others didn’t. That they couldn’t really. For Inej’s part, she liked that they didn’t understand, even forgot themselves sometimes. But in instances such as this, understanding was crucial. Knowing the difference between when Kaz was silent by choice and when he was not and when to trust him to tell the difference was something Inej could only tell because she was the same way herself. They’d done this dance so many times before, him for her and her for him.
She used to think someday, they both could retire from this duty of care. But as she got older, she found that more and more unlikely. On both their sides.
The half hour mark was punctuated by the nurse coming to check up on them. Inej and Kaz didn’t talk again except briefly when the different TV screens each showed a series of bizarre adds. Without volume, it was quite entertaining to guess what exactly each one was advertising. ‘’Jesper says if it has an animal, it’s insurance of some kind,’’ Kaz said.
‘’What insurance company is represented by a hippo?’’
‘’…Rainforest insurance?’’
‘’Who the hell is buying rainforest insurance? What would that even cover?’’
‘’Gardening gone wrong?’’
‘’Do hippos live in the rainforest?’’
‘’I don’t actually know.’’
Inej grabbed her phone. ‘’While the most common types of hippos live in savannas, apparently there is a species of hippos that do live in the rainforest.’’
‘’Thank your saints we solved that mystery.’’
‘’Doesn’t mean your Rainforest Insurance theory is correct.’’
‘’But it go just that much more plausible, didn’t it?’’
‘’Yes.’’ Inej watched as the next commercial showed a girl on a truck, playing guitar at an impossible height. ‘’Goodness knows ads are all about plausibility.’’
‘’How the hell did she get up there?’’ Kaz pondered.
Hour two was when Kaz was starting to feel the affects. And get antsy. ‘’Stop that,’’ Inej chided as he flexed his arm.
‘’My hands are numb.’’
‘’Do they hurt?’’
‘’How can they hurt? They have no feeling.’’ He opened and closed his fists.
‘’Stop clutching the arms so tight,’’ Inej suggested.
Kaz moved them to his lap, relaxing them. But the tension he had stored there was now present elsewhere; his stiff legs, his rigid spine. The quiet had had Inej fantasizing about escaping out the window again. Kaz’s taut body looked like it too dreamed of escape.
She moved over on her ottoman. ‘’Put your legs up here,’’ she said. He obeyed. One of his knees made a loud click as it moved from its long time position to another. Inej would bet money he was gritting his teeth behind his mask. ‘’You gotta relax.’’
She tapped the leg nearest to her. When he didn’t flinch, she placed her hand on it, fingers idly tracing. It was as much a distraction for her as it was for him. Her eyes traced his outline, trying to think of some comfort she could offer. ‘’You have goosebumps. Are you cold?’’
He just shook his head. One definite twitch.
Inej fell silent again. She kept her hand moving on his leg, the rough fabric of his trousers catching the callouses on her skin. He’d dressed down for the appointment, but refused to come in the suggested sweats for maximum comfort.
When he finally spoke, it sounded forced out, choked; ‘’Nej?’’
‘’Yes?’’
‘’My— my chest.’’
‘’What’s wrong?’’
‘’I don’t— I can’t—- god, I have to get out of here. I can’t—‘’
He was gripping the arm of the chair again, looking like he had to fight himself to remain seated. Inej sprang up. ‘’Hang on, okay? I’m going to get the nurse, okay? Just wait one minute.’’
She didn’t dare leave him. Merely poked her head around the corner and shouted down the hall. Urgently, but calmly. In control. Inside, she could be panicked and angry and keep daydreaming about that escape for him. But outwardly, she had to be calm.
The nurse came quickly. Given his history, it had been discussed how to handle situations such as this. She checked his vitals and handed over a paper cup with two pills inside.
Kaz took the water Inej offered to wash them down. He did not replace his mask, head tilted up and taking deep, deliberate breathes. Inej saw the bite marks on his lips, bright red. ‘’The chair reclines, you know,’’ she mentioned.
Kaz let a beat pass before replying. ’’So?’’
‘’Do you want to just… lay down?’’
He gave a scoff of laughter, but didn’t reply. ‘’Does it hurt?’’ Inej asked.
Another pause. ‘’I don’t know anymore,’’ he admitted.
She didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow, he’d become even paler. When he risked moving a few moments later, hands groping the side of the chair, Inej sprang up to help recline it. He made no reply. She offered none, and just watched as he remained stiff and uncomfortable, eyes closed and face tilted toward the ceiling.
The nurse came back a few minutes later, marking the total of two and half hours. ‘’How much time do we have left?’’ Inej asked.
‘’About another hour,’’ the nurse replied.
Kaz remained still as she came and went. Inej noted his slight stiffening at the mere brush of the nurse checking his IV, and his heavy and unsteady exhale at her exit. Inej took the sweatshirts out of the bag, donning her own and laying Kaz’s over his lap, careful not to touch.
She took up her perch once more, eyes on the clock. Then on the window.
…
It was just the first appointment. In theory, that should mean there was a chance for future appointments to go better. But all Kaz could think that that meant there was a chance for it to go the same or worse, worse.
The IV hadn’t hurt going in. At least, no more than the usual stabbing of finding a vein. He wasn’t even sure if the medication itself hurt or if it was just the stiffness of siting there too long. Really, how was this supposed to reduce his joint pain if the mode of receiving treatment itself caused him joint pain?
Maybe it hadn’t been the medication; just anxiety as his mind went wild with all the ways this could go wrong, had gone wrong, and would continue to go wrong.
Sitting there was torture. Unable to move. Unable to tell if this was working. Unable to speak to Inej to tell her he was sorry and to go but also please, take him with her.
His hands ached. But whether that was his typical arthritis or the death grip he’d had on the chair to keep from what felt like floating away, he wasn’t sure.
The meds had helped. A little. He’d tried to take Inej’s suggestion to sleep and make the world disappear, but only managed to fall asleep 15 minutes before the nurse returned, signaling the end of the procedure. And then there was a whole process of unhooking him, asking him questions, and ushering them out into the lobby for more paperwork and whatnot.
God, his head was killing him. And standing after sitting for so long was a horrible mixture of relief with new waves of pain, especially from his hip to his leg.
As he stumbled alongside her, Inej took a risk and slipped her arm through his to balance him. ‘’You okay?’’ She asked.
Yes. No. Screw this. ’’I want to go home,’’ he murmured.
‘’Next stop,’’ she promised.
They made it to the car. Strangely enough, the movement did not help with the rising nausea. He had a vague memory of the nurse asking as she removed the IV how he was feeling. Is this what she meant? Was it even nausea? Or just his usual disgust with himself for being unable to think?
God, he was so tried.
Luckily, there wasn’t far to drive. Soon they were pulling up alongside their house and Inej was opening his car door. She reached out a hand, but he couldn’t take it. ‘’No.’’
She withdrew it.
Got to stand up. That’s all he had to do. Stand up, pathetically shuffle up the walk, and collapse into the first soft surface he saw. Shit, wait— he should change his clothes. He’d been so careful about germs and exposure, he should change. God knows what disgusting, healthy person with a working immune system sat in that waiting room and bloodletting chair before him.
Kaz nearly whined aloud. Suddenly, there seemed to be too many steps to getting inside.
‘’Kaz.’’ Inej, still and waiting with the door held open. ‘’You ready?’’
Kaz caught his breath. He nodded.
He managed himself upright. Gripped his cane and worsened the ache in his hands. They made it up the walk, into the house.
Inej closed the door behind them. The lack of light and noise told Kaz everyone else was out, loyally running their business ventures in his absence.
Inej quietly busied herself with the bag they’d brought, emptying it’s perishable contents in the kitchen. Kaz, after a moment’s deliberation, ducked into the first floor bedroom, heading to it’s attached bathroom. He didn’t have it in him to climb the stairs. At the very least, he could wash his face. He’d gone years with stretches of doing less while on the streets. He’d gotten too pampered what with this easy access to things like soap and running water.
In his haze, he nearly missed the pile of laundry on the bed. His. Soft and clean and within easy reach.
Love for his partners and shame at himself caught in his throat, mixing with the nausea still there. He forced all the feelings down before further examination. He snatched the clothes up and headed to the bathroom.
He made quick work of undressing. It felt like shedding a skin. He must’ve been sweating during the Infusion, from stress or whatever. There was no energy in him to shower, not to mention sensations of water raining on him was the last thing he needed. He felt improved just by washing his face and arms with a washcloth and slipping into the new outfit. When finished, he was shaking with relief.
Or exhaustion, he dully realized as he trekked back into the living room. He felt strung out, for lack of a better word. His head still ached, he realized his nausea could be attributed to lack of food, and the arm that had the IV both hurt and had a red, irritated rash. Quite frankly, he reached his limit for the day.
Kaz heard Inej coming back down the stairs as he reached the couch. A normal person could recline on it, but his legs and hip let him know what they thought of that arrangement. He ended up sitting rather sideways, head on the back cushions, eyes unable to stay open any longer.
He felt Inej standing aside him. ‘’Kaz?’’
‘’Hmm?’’
‘’Why don’t you just lay in the other room?’’
‘’It’s far.’’ Never mind he’d just come from it.
‘’Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the recliner?’’
‘’Also far.’’ Half way across the room was not here, which while arguably uncomfortable, had the benefit of requiring no further movement.
She didn’t sigh in exasperation, which left him clueless to what she was thinking. Her tone remained level as she asked, ‘’Do you want anything?’’
‘’No.’’
‘’You’re really pale.’’ Everyone always said that. ‘’Are you cold?’’
‘’No.’’
Just as he always felt her approach, he could also feel her depart. ‘’Nej?’’
‘’Yeah, Kaz?’'
‘’Can you…’’ Words were clumsy things, fighting through his tired mind as he tried to decipher what it was he wanted even as he asked for it. ‘’Stay?’’
‘’I’m right here, Kaz.’’
‘’I know. Just…’’
He pressed his hands to his face, pain against pain. She was sitting next to him now, still not touching. Just waiting. Patiently waiting as he forced his broken mind and body to work. ‘’Do you want something?’’ Inej asked. Words were gone, so he just shook his head. ‘’Water? Food?’’ Two shakes. ‘’Sit with you?’’
A nod. Yes, that seemed right. Be here, not far. Don’t be alone.
Kaz felt her shift, once again leaving. But the panic that arose with that feeling washed away as he felt her behind him, resting in the corner of their living room sectional. Her shoulder brushed his back, and he knew he could lean back against her if he wanted. When he was ready. ‘’I’m right here, Kaz,’’ she promised again.
Kaz wished he could say the same.
He didn’t sleep, but he wasn’t awake. He was in some in-between state, caught between pains like a ship in a storm. Just like in the center, he couldn’t relax, not fully. Inej stayed behind him and eventually coaxed him into her embrace, arms loosely around him, providing security as he dozed.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur, snippets poking through as the rest of their partners came home.
‘’Hey, you’re back! Oh… how did it go?’’
‘’Pretty much as expected. I think it was just… a lot.’’
‘’How many times does he have to do this?’’
‘’It’s once a week for four weeks, then it goes to once every four months.’’
‘’That’s if it works, right?’’
‘’Yeah... If it works.’’