With his head still a little muzzy, he wasn’t focused on the fact that Rae had shot someone else because of him. It hadn’t been a zombie, or even an infected animal. It had, that woman had been a person, like them. Later, when he was thinking more coherently, he could feel remorse over that. That he had put Rae in that position. “Won’t have to,” he told her. “Promise.”
“I wont’,” he assured, taking his cue from the desperation he could hear in her words, some manifestation of what she might have been feeling while he was out. “I won’t, I swear, I won’t.” How many times could he repeat it before it started to sound repetitive? But how else could he help her to believe that he was there, that he wasn’t going to leave, in any way, like so many others. He would do anything imaginable to keep from being one more person on the list of people that left; the list that Rae thought was proof of her bad luck, or curse, or whatever she called it. “You’ll be sick of me before I ever break that promise, I swear.” He still had his doubts that she’d want him six months from now, or a year. Things were amazing, really amazing, but the other shoe had to drop, right? Someone better for her would come along. Even if right now she thought he was amazing, opinions changed, they weren’t static things.
But he wasn’t going to spend the first few minutes awake doubting that he’d always be who she wanted. God, he was just glad to see her face again.
There wasn’t anything else to do in the room, not for hours on end, so it wouldn’t hurt to have books around. He wasn’t an avid reader, but he had a few he liked. “Yeah, sure. I can analyze all the weird shit I remember from the dream.” Not much, other than the maze, but it might be interesting to see what the book claimed certain things meant. He didn’t put a lot of stock into that stuff.
What was the point of trying to get her to see it his way? She was so certain that it she’d heal, he could see it in her face and hear it in her voice. The only thing he could hope for was that it would never be tested out. That she’d never find out if being shot was the same as stabbing a pen through her hand. “Don’t think I’m plugged in, babe,” he responded, not immediately getting the joke as he looked around to see what machines were present. A heart monitor was about the only thing, and an IV. That itched, and he kind of wished he could take it out without Rae chastising him for it. Unless he asked her to do it. She did say anything. “Think you could get that IV out for me?” he tried, aiming for his most pathetic look. Not much of a stress considering he’d spent the last few days out cold.
Her words and actions were enough to make him believe her. He cringed at the statement about never lying to her; he had, albeit a small inconsequential lie, one that he had fessed up to now. But he’d still lied. Maybe it was a case that he’d never lied about anything serious, and he’d try not to. He valued her trust in him. A lot. “Good,” he murmured.
“If I hadn’t come back it wouldn’t matter if you were mad,” he pointed out, not trying to be difficult. “I wouldn’t be here to rail at.” Maybe he should stop reminding her that it had almost gone that way; he knew how torn up she’d been. How worried. “Glad you’re not mad,” he tacked on, ignoring the pull in his shoulder in order to lean up and capture her mouth.