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F oxx eyed Harlow who was staring at him with his brow raised in a ‘come on, do it’ sort of way. But he didn’t want to do it. “Do we have to?”

“Yes!” Gavin chimed. “I vote yes!”

“You don’t get a vote!” Foxx huffed.

“Oh, come on, I just want to see and talk for like a second!” the dragon whined. “That is not much to ask for!”

Harlow snorted. “Gavin, shut it.”

“Shutting.” The man pretended to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“Okay, but do we have to?” Foxx repeated.

“Foxx, Wes has been out of the hospital for eight days. It’s time,” Harlow said firmly, before adding, “He is also waiting for us to contact him right this very minute.”

“I want to bake,” he complained.

The dhampir chuckled. “I know, but just call him. Afterwards, we can go to the store and grab some ingredients and a toaster oven, so you can bake in small quantities.”

Foxx pursed his lips, thinking about it. It wasn’t a bad idea. He couldn’t make anything giant, but… “Deal!” He picked up his laptop and handed it to Gavin. “Bring Wes up securely on my laptop.”

The dragon looked baffled for a second, but then he shook his head and set the thing back on the small table before he started clicking and typing. Seconds later, a screen popped up and a ringing sound started. The pop up went from black to an image of Wes as the video call connected.

While the man looked tired, and there was still a bandage wrapped around his head, and the lines on his face seemed deeper than they normally were, he looked…okay-ish.

“Hello, Wes,” Foxx said with a somewhat strained smile. “Glad to see you awake.”

“Foxx, Harlow, it’s good to see you. I—oh!” Wes’ eyes widened slightly on spotting who else was in the room. “You, you're…”

“Gavin,” the dragon said brightly. “Hello again.”

“Ah, yes, Gavin, hello. Thank you for saving me. The doctors informed me that if I’d gotten to the hospital any later, I’d likely be dead. I didn’t realize you all knew each other.”

“To be honest, I’m confused how Tony managed to hide you from me for so long,” Gavin mused.

Wes blinked, his brow pulling slightly. “Ah, you know Tony as well?”

“Yep, for as long as I’ve known Harlow. You are looking well, damn well,” the dragon drawled, practically purring the last part—which was weird.

Wait…did all dragons purr? Were dragons cats?

Foxx shook his head. No…he was not doing that. He was not Harlow. He would not question whether a paranormal species was in fact not what they appeared to be, but actually cats. Because that was weird. Almost as weird as watching this flirting. But he wasn’t going to interrupt because the more time Gavin wasted, the less he would have to spend actually talking to Wes.

The human smiled slightly, looking almost confused. “Um…thank you?”

“So, what area of crazy do you focus on? Do you happen to handle complexes?” the dragon asked. “Because I’ve got a hell of a one for?—”

“Nope, not doing that,” Harlow said as he shoved Gavin aside, by method of directly placing his hand on the man’s cheek and swiping left. Foxx was honestly impressed by seeing such a movie-like move in real life .

Gavin stumbled, but caught himself before falling. The man turned a sharp glare of betrayal Harlow’s way.

“Go!” the dhampir grunted, while pointing to the door.

Rolling his eyes, the dragon yelled, “Talk to you soon, Wes!” before stomping to the door and leaving.

“Ah…” Wes frowned. “Did uh…he have something to talk to me about?”

“Believe me when I say you really don’t want to know,” Harlow drawled.

A giggle slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

The human’s frown deepened. “Right…umm. First, let me apologize for not being able to reach out sooner. How are you two holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Harlow said emotionlessly.

And Foxx was sure the dhampir was perfectly fine… Part of him was jealous of that. Because Foxx really wished he was.

The man’s gaze turned to him, and he instantly began to feel awkward under the weight of it. Quickly shrugging, he lied, “I’m okay…but I’d rather not talk about what happened.”

“And you don’t have to today, if you don’t want to, but I will stress that it would be good for you, even if it's not with me. And I would…actually like to talk to you two separately today, if that is okay?”

He winced when Harlow glanced at him. “Is that okay with you, Foxx?”

“Do we have to?”

Wes smiled gently. “I think it would be a good idea.”

Foxx took a deep breath, before saying, “Fine…”

The human’s smile widened. “Wonderful. Foxx first, please.”

Bloody hell , he thought when Harlow looked at him again.

“Fine!” he huffed.

Nodding, Harlow left faster than what Foxx thought was necessary. When the door had sealed him in with his fate, he picked up his laptop and settled on the bed, tilting the screen to the right angle as he ‘relaxed’ back against the headboard. Foxx then said nothing, he just stared at Wes’ face, trying his best to keep his expression neutral instead of uncomfortable .

“Foxx, I know you are apprehensive about talking to me.”

“You think?” He snorted, then winced. “I’m sorry, I know you just want to help, but… How…are you doing? How’s your head?”

“Truthfully, I can’t say I’m doing too well at the moment.” The man chuckled, but there was a slight touch of sadness to the sound.

“Did you…know any of them…? The people we lost?”

“A few, to varying degrees. Some more than others. A few I’d met through my connection with Tony.”

Foxx stared at the smile that was definitely sad now, and hesitated. Maybe Wes would know how to make him feel less like he was faking being happy. Not that he was, but sometimes it felt like it…

Foxx took a deep breath. “How do you handle it? Losing people? You’re human, so it’s much more common for you, isn’t it?”

“I would actually say it would be more common for you, Foxx. Being what you are, and how long you have lived. Depending on how lucky one is in life, and plenty aren’t, a human can live more than half their lifetime before losing someone close to them. While, for someone who can potentially live forever, it is a constant, unavoidable factor, simply because each year will not bring them any closer to death.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “In the Middle Ages, no one was lucky. Not even the rich.”

Wes chuckled. “You got me there. I suppose my thinking is only supported by recent history, with all its medical advances.”

“So…?”

“Right, your question. Well, I’ve always found that death isn’t something you handle, rather it’s more something you have no choice but to accept. Or not accept, for that matter. Because regardless of what you do or think, it will come eventually. But when someone I care about dies, I do what any good man who has multiple degrees in psychology does.”

“Which is?”

“Ignore it until I can’t anymore, and then find somewhere dark to break down in.”

Foxx laughed in disbelief. “Can’t say that helps me much, Doc, since I already did that. Though, in my case, it’s break down on Harlow.”

Wes smiled. “I’m sure he enjoys that.”

“Oh, yes, in all his confused horror.”

“My point is, it’s normal to run from it. Death is hard. It’s painful, it sucks. There are no easy answers, or correct ways to handle it. Sure, there are some bad ways, but sometimes, the best thing we can do is hold it together until we can’t anymore, or until we are in a safe place to let it go. For you, Harlow is that safe place. I feel I can confidently say that you know you can break down and he will make sure nothing happens to you while you do.”

A small smile slipped onto his face at that. “He is… But…he doesn’t get it completely, because he mostly just tries to fix what is wrong. I think he doesn’t understand that there isn’t always a way to fix it.” His voice cracked as tears started to pool in his eyes.

“While I haven’t yet had a discussion with him on how he sees death, from what I have learned of the man, I believe you are correct. He doesn’t understand, and likely he never fully will. Because for a man who likely does not feel the emotions most would when someone close to them dies, it would be quite logical to him to see it as a problem to be fixed. But death can’t be fixed. And the emotional response to loss is usually not something that can be wiped away with a simple action.”

Foxx sighed. “And because he doesn’t have that response, he doesn’t realize that.”

“Yes.”

He sniffed as he wiped away a tear that broke free. “Should you even be talking to me about him? Isn’t there some sort of patient confidentiality?”

“Technically, neither of you are on my books officially, but he gave me full permission to discuss anything he has told me with you.”

Foxx’s brow rose at that. “He did?”

“Yes, Foxx, he did. Harlow wants what is happening between you two to work out. Or, in his words, he wants to keep you.”

He snorted. “Yeah, he does want to do that. You…you can tell him what we talk about too, unless it’s something I’ve specifically to ld you not to tell him.” Foxx bit his lip. “Wes…did you know…Charity?”

“I did. Not for too long, sadly, but she was a lovely and very kind young woman. Tony, in passing, did tell me about her many times over in the years before I met her.”

“She was more than that, she was a badass,” Foxx said with a sad chuckle. “She didn’t seem to have many fears. She wasn’t even afraid of Harlow, or me. Or…of death. She died with a smile on her face…but alone…” He swallowed hard as more tears cascaded down. “She was… She was afraid of that…”

“Of being alone?”

“Y-yes… She told me that before she… I convinced her to let me change her…and i-it didn’t work. I promised her that she’d never be alone again, but…”

Charity’s face flashed in his mind, but more than that, he saw them again—her threads. The sight of them caused him to burst into sobs. “I lied! I lied to her!”

“What did you lie about?” Wes asked, with no judgement on his face.

“I said there was a chance, but I knew there wasn’t. I saw it,” he cried. “I looked at her threads, and saw that her life line was frayed. There was only one single strand holding it together, and I ignored it. I pretended I didn’t see. I gave her false hope when it was too late. I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to—ah.” Foxx covered his face. “H-how c-could I have been so cruel to her?!”

“Foxx, look at me.”

He shook his head.

“Foxx, did you lie to her, or did your mind lie to you in a moment of great distress?”

“I lied,” Foxx sobbed, even though he’d have sworn at the time that there had still been a chance.

“There’s this paramedic I used to know. A brave and rather intelligent fellow. Someone I met in passing during my clinical work at a local hospital. One day, he came into my office, covered in blood, looking pale and shaky. The ambulance he’d been in overturned. They were headed to an accident, and someone the police were chasing rammed right into them. As they rolled, his partner had flown through the window. Her seatbelt had, beyond belief, ended up broken or cut.

“The details are slightly fuzzy, due to how long it’s been, but cut or broken, the end result was that she had flown through the front window on one of the rolls. Now, that day, there was an unimaginable number of accidents, some on a catastrophic level. Which meant it took over an hour for help to come. When it did, they found the man attempting to resuscitate his partner. He had been trying for the entire time he’d waited.”

Taking a shuddered breath, he slowly lowered his hands and looked at the screen. “A…human’s b-brain can’t survive that l-long without oxygen.”

Wes smiled sadly. “No, it can’t. But nor can it when half crushed by a truck.”

Foxx’s eyes widened.

“You see, they’d rolled down an embankment, and she had shot out and landed at the bottom. When the truck finally settled, it had come down on her, crushing the top part of her skull. I don’t know if she was alive before the truck landed on her, but she was already dead by the time her partner got to her.”

He swallowed. “Wh-what did he tell you?”

“At first, he just sat there. And then he started crying, and then screaming. You see, up until they got to the hospital, he had still thought she had a chance, and he freaked out when they refused to take her into surgery.”

“Did he have a head wound?”

“That’s what they thought, at first. But no, miraculously, he came out of it with only a few scrapes and bruises. His head was unharmed.”

Taking a slow breath in, after letting it out, he asked again, “What did he tell you?”

“When he finally spoke, he told me, swore to me, that she had been alive. That he saw her breathing when he got to her, but she stopped, so he tried and kept trying.

“Foxx, the mind can sometimes shield us from things we are not ready for. It can block, make us forget, or misinterpret without us ever realizing it’s happening. You didn’t lie to Charity, because you were only going off what you knew in that moment. And in that moment, you thought she had a chance.”

Foxx nodded, his face scrunching as he tried to stop more tears from coming. “I-I…”

“I talked to Tony about her, you know? About what happened. I knew she’d likely come up. And…Charity, she knew, Foxx. She knew she was dying, that it was too late. She knew what was going on underneath that wall. Her saying yes was likely more for you than her. To give you a chance to try.”

“S-she w-was trying to c-comfort me in the end. She t-told me it was okay—ah. But it’s not… I want her back! She shouldn’t be d-dead! W-who’s g-going to call me s-sunshine, or all t-the other c-cute nicknames now?!”

“And that’s why death isn’t something that can be fixed. Because it’s final, there’s no getting them back once they’re gone. Death can often come with regrets and guilt, but we can’t hold ourselves more responsible than the ones who actually are.

“And that paramedic, a man who before that tragedy I’d have described as level-headed and rational, up until the day he died, he blamed her death, not on the fleeing driver, or the police for getting into a dangerous chase in the first place, but on himself. Because he was convinced that there had been a chance, and that he had failed.

“While I don’t have all the answers on how to get over losing someone, I do know that holding on to the doubts, and things you have no chance of changing, will eventually destroy you. And for you, it’s more than accidentally tricking yourself into believing that you could, isn’t it?”

Foxx roughly rubbed at his face, nodding. “Y-yes.”

And then he blurted it all out. The what ifs and the could haves, his doubts about the delays, or him not delaying when it came to Maverick calling—everything. Foxx said it all as he cried, leaving nothing out.

“Change one thing and a dozen others change with it. You are thinking on the impossible, Foxx,” Wes rasped softly, the man’s eyes glossy with emotion.

“I know! I know it’s all pointless! But knowing that doesn’t make the thoughts go away! Sometimes…it feels like I’m faking being ha ppy. Like, randomly, I’ll be smiling, and then it’ll feel like the smile isn’t mine, that someone else is holding it there while the real me is just trying to stay standing.”

“Have you tried reaching out for comfort from Harlow in these moments?”

He sniffled, wiping at his face. “Why would I?”

“Because he is someone who cares about you. And you are someone with a wide range of emotions and needs. Do you hesitate to reach out because you think he will turn away, or is it because you don’t think what you are feeling is worth mentioning?”

Foxx gnawed on his bottom lip. “I…I don’t…want to make things awkward.”

“Has Harlow ever told you to fake what you are feeling to make himself more comfortable?”

“No.”

“Has he ever brushed you off, or pushed you away when you were seeking comfort?”

“No…” He shook his head as he sniffled again.

“Then why are you hiding, Foxx?”

Foxx blinked. Wasn’t the answer obvious? “Because t-they don’t…matter?”

“What doesn’t?”

He licked his lips. “My emotions.”

“And who told you that?”

His gaze dropped to his lap as his hands clenched together.

The truth was…only one person had… Someone he shouldn’t be listening to at all, yet even all these years later, he still partly was. Foxx couldn’t even explain why he was…

Though, maybe it was because part of him agreed with it. He’d seen it for himself. Emotions were a burden, especially to loved ones. Who would want to constantly be dragged down by someone else’s sadness? Was it so wrong that he didn’t want to drag the people he cared about down?

“Foxx, who told you that your emotions don’t matter? ”

He looked back up at the screen and hesitated, before admitting, “My father. My father told me.”

Ah, bloody hell…he had daddy issues, didn’t he?