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Ajak’s house is warm with familiarity when Makkari steps over the threshold. The vibrations of her family in the living room and kitchen only add to the comforting atmosphere of the place. The kitchen seems to have turned into a makeshift hospital as everyone nurses their individual wounds from the fight on the beach. Makkari’s hand brushes over the handprint on her neck, bruising worse than it was the day before. Without Ajak there’s nothing that can be done about it except let it go through its natural stages of healing, which, judging by how hard Ikaris’s grip on her throat was, could take anywhere from days to weeks to fully heal.
She spots Druig sitting on the counter as Thena cleans a cut in his arm. Their eyes meet and he smiles at her as her feet carry her towards him without thinking. Makkari winces when she spots a similar bruise on Druig’s neck, only looking much worse than hers. He must notice her discomfort, because he immediately signs I’m okay, I promise.
“I said don’t move,” Thena grumbles. She grabs a numbing gel and applies it to Druig’s arm, who hisses in pain.
“Shit, Tee, warn me next time won’t you?”
“Would you rather I stick the needle in without the numbing gel?”
Needle? Makkari asks. Is it that bad?
A deviant in the Amazon scratched me pretty deep. Druig signs, ignoring Thena’s eye roll.
“We thought a simple bandage would be fine,” she explains as she grabs a needle and thread out of an extensive first aid kit Sersi dropped off before driving back to town to get more food. “But, thanks to Ikaris,” Druig’s face goes slack at the mention, “Now any progress his arm made in healing is gone, and I have the pleasure of stitching him up.”
When Makkari finishes connecting the different vibrations with the few signs Druig could make she nods her head. Thena wipes the needle down with rubbing alcohol and threads it. “This might hurt.”
What about the numbing agent?
“Numbs a bit of the pain, not all of it, Makkari,” Druig closes his eyes in anticipation as Thena holds the needle to his arm. “Hurry up already, Tee.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay.” As Thena pushes the needle into Druig’s skin, Makkari reaches for a wet cloth to start cleaning her knuckles, split from too much contact against Ikaris’s face.
“Shit!” Druig jumps and slams his hand into the table, causing Makkari to flinch as the vibrations flood her system. Thena drops the needle in surprise, which now hangs from Druig’s arm by the thread. He grips onto the edge of the table so hard his hand goes white.
“Stop being difficult, Druig,” Thena sighs.
You don’t seem alright , Makkari sets the cloth down and rests one hand on Druig’s knee.
“Hey Everyone, there’s a new telepath,” he says sarcastically.
Shut up , Makkari rolls her eyes and smiles so he knows she’s just playing with him.
“You two are unbelievable,” Phastos groans as he walks into the kitchen. “You seriously can’t go two minutes without flirting with her?” He asks Druig, signing at the same time so Makkari can understand.
Makkari covers her mouth to stifle her laughter as Druig flushes red with embarrassment and irritation. Druig mumbles something under his breath so quietly Makkari can’t even pick up on the vibrations. She makes a mental note to ask what he said later.
Phastos taps her shoulder to get her attention. Why is Thena stitching him up instead of you? You’re the only one of us he won’t snap at.
Ignoring the weight of Phastos’s words, Makkari holds up her beat up hands and points at them in answer. He nods in understanding, grabs a bag of chips out of a cupboard, and goes back into the living room to continue watching television with Ben and Jack.
She turns back around to see Thena has returned to the task of stitching up a, now less dramatic but still clearly in pain, Druig. When she ties off a knot in the thread and cuts it with the scissors, she smiles in satisfaction. Druig goes to brush the stitches, but Thena swats his hand away. “No.” He rolls his eyes and glances towards Makkari, who hands Thena the gauze to cover the stitches to keep them from getting infected. When Thena finishes with that, she hands the gauze back to Druig.
Come here, he signs. Makkari’s already close to him, but she gets closer, standing right in front of his legs. He takes her hands in his and gently dabs a tiny bit of antiseptic on the cuts littering her knuckles before lightly wrapping them in small strips of gauze, torn by Thena. When he’s done he signs. Can you still move your fingers and sign like normal?
Inspecting her hands, Makkari flexes her fingers a few times, nodding in satisfaction and confirmation. Impressive.
He had lots of practice , Thena signs.
Oh? With who? Makkari pushes the inkling of jealousy down as she grabs a bag of frozen peas out of Ajak’s freezer. And put this on your neck; the swelling’s getting worse.
“I know, Kari.” He rolls his eyes again and Makkari wonders if she should begin to be concerned about them getting stuck. I can feel it with every breath and every word. But he doesn’t protest as she tosses the bag to him and he catches it with his good arm. “And when you take care of a small village for five hundred years without a mother-figure who can heal any injury she wishes, you learn practical medicine.”
Oh. Makkari feels stupid for being relieved at his answer. Even though she’s never made her feelings for him known, and therefore has no place to critique any and all potential relationships Druig gets into, it still is a relief to know that he didn’t move on. Not that he doesn’t deserve happiness, and if that means him moving on and finding someone who isn’t her, Makkari would accept that, no matter how much it would hurt her to see Druig love someone else.
Thena taps her shoulder and she looks up to see a look of concern plastered across Thena’s face. Are you alright?
Makkari bites the inside of her cheek as she nods. Thena stares at her for a moment before shrugging and applying medical tape to the cut on Druig’s face. When she’s done, she steps back and nods in satisfaction. Sorry for holding your man hostage. He’s all yours.
The two stare at Thena in disbelief as she slyly smiles. What? It’s obvious to all of us but you two. With that she walks out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards the room she is currently occupying.
“So,” Druig says as he pushes himself up and off the counter. “What Thena said just now.”
We don’t have to talk about Thena right now.
Makkari turns and walks towards the fridge. Opening the door, she ruffles around through the scarce resources left, quietly hopes Sersi will get back from the supermarket run soon, and finally settles on a small bowl of cut up fruit. Hungry? She signs as she turns around to see Druig standing right in front of her. There’s barely any space between them as she backs up towards the fridge. She sets the bowl behind her on the counter and signs What are you doing?
What do you feel?
She shrugs. About?
Me. Druig leans his face towards hers. Her nose brushes his when she breathes.
Everything , her sign is small, held close to her, afraid if she lets her hands get the better of her she’ll spill the best guarded secret she’s held for six thousand years.
Including what Thena implied?
Makkari’s been this close to Druig before, many times even. Sometimes their nightmares are so bad they’ll seek the other out, unable to go back to sleep without resting their head on the other’s chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat. Other times it’s just out of instinct. Druig is the magnetic force that Makkari’s felt the pull towards her entire existence, that which she remembers and that which she doesn’t.
The attraction towards her fellow Eternal is an absolute in her multitude of lives, no matter how much it terrifies her in this one. Falling for him is inevitable, and pressed up against the refrigerator of Ajak’s kitchen does Makkari look into Druig’s bright blue eyes and realize that falling for her is also an inevitable part of his lives.
They’ve loved each other for hundreds of lives, and they love each other in this one. It’s just time for them to admit it to each other.
Makkari’s breath hitches in her throat as she tilts her head up just slightly to lightly brush her mouth against Druig’s. She feels him smile against her and closes her eyes as his hands cup her face. He breaks the kiss and in a brief moment of weakness Makkari tries to kiss him again before she opens her eyes to see Phastos in the doorway shaking his head in disapproval. Her face heats up in embarrassment. “I hate you two so much,” Phastos says sarcastically before leaving the room. “It’s getting late! Go to sleep,” he yells.
Druig turns to face her. “Well that was delightful. Anyways,” he tilts her chin up with his finger. “Where were we?”
+++
Makkari wakes before he does, sensing his fear before he’s even aware of it. She’s laying on her side, watching him when she feels him gasp and sit up sharply. His hands claw at the thin shirt he’s wearing, desperate like it’s suddenly suffocating him and he yanks it off. His hand hits a pile of books stacked on the nightstand next to him, causing them to crash to the ground. He winces and draws his legs to his chest, where then Druig rests his chin on his knees.
Makkari sits up and lightly places a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Druig turns and grabs her wrist and pries her hand off. His eyes widen when he sees that it’s Makkari sitting next to him. He drops her wrist immediately and frantically signs I’m sorry. Oh shit, I’m so sorry.
It's okay. She rubs her wrist, surprised at how strong his grip was. Guilt floods his face.
No, it's not.
Another nightmare? She asks, changing the subject because there's no way he'll stop beating himself up over this if she doesn't.
Druig nods. Same old being devoured by the earth because of Ikaris bullshit.
He’s gone now. You said it yourself on the beach, we’re okay.
He nods again before pushing his bangs off of his forehead out of nervous habit.
Makkari shifts her body behind him and any tension in his torso fades as she wraps her arms around his waist and rests her chin on his shoulder. Her arms are cold against his stomach, but he doesn’t protest, haunted by memories of the earth’s core surrounding him.
Druig turns his face to the side and places a small kiss on Makkari’s hairline. She softly smiles before turning her face into the nape of his neck. Her lips linger there for a moment, his skin soft beneath them. His breathing and heartbeat become uneven under her touch. His hands run up and down her arms slowly, as if trying to take her all in, yet still afraid she’ll dissolve through his fingers at any moment. Makkari tilts her face up, leaving a trail of light kisses against his neck and eventually jaw. Her mind’s gone blank, an unheard of phenomenon. The only thing that exists in this moment is her and the man that she loves wrapped in her arms.
Arishem could offer her all the riches in the universe and Makkari still wouldn’t trade moments like this one for anything. She takes the good and the bad, the hurt and the ugly that dwells inside her and Druig’s minds willingly. As she leans away briefly to get a good look at his face, bruised and bandaged as it is, Makkari can’t help but wonder how different their lives would be if they had stopped being cowards three thousand years ago and fessed up to their inevitable feelings for the other.