Page 37 of Fish in a Barrel

“Yeah, I’m here. C’mon, it’s almost four. If we move to the bed, you can get some sleep.”

He was trying to jolly Ellery along, but Ellery could see, even in the faint light, that his face was white with sleeplessness and strain, and blue circles of exhaustion practically reached his cheekbones.

“What did the doctors say?”

“Well, Lance says I should be put in a cage until I’m housetrained, but he wanted me to tell you that ifI’mever tasered, that’s probably it. My ticker will go tits up, and I’ll be cashing it in. The PA who laced up my back asked if she could put her initials in there. I told her to knock herself out, but she said she’d better wait until she found a man who could commit.”

Ellery ignored his bullshit and moved in to put his head on Jackson’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his too-narrow waist.

“Another close call,” he murmured.

“It’s been closer.” Jackson nuzzled his temple. “Last year—”

“I don’t want to talk about last year,” Ellery said, surprising himself. Wasn’t he the one who was always pointing out the life lessons? The potential for growth?

“Then let’s talk about having backup,” Jackson said, holding Ellery closer. “Let’s talk about having someone in my ear who could talk to you. Who could get the bad guy when I couldn’t.Thisyear I’m alive and here and… well, maybe not whole and healthy but, you know, not at death’s door. It’s not last year.”

Ellery squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “No,” he whispered. “God, Jackson, I’m so glad it’s not last year.”

“C’mon. Bed for you,” Jackson murmured.

“Gah! Is it really four a.m.?”

“Yeah. Long fucking night.”

Ellery gave a mirthless chuckle and allowed himself to be pulled to bed while Jackson turned off all the lights. It wasn’t until Ellery had climbed into bed that he realized that Jackson had a calculated reason for doing this.

He started undressing in the dark, and Ellery reached over and turned on the lamp.

“What are you wearing?” he asked suspiciously. “Is that a… is that a girl’s pink sweatshirt?” Oversized by at least four sizes, it flopped around Jackson’s body like his old shirts used to before Ellery had started throwing them out.

Jackson grimaced and pulled it over his head gingerly by the neck. “I… well, I was out of clothes, and so they gave me some scrubs—”

“Which are soaked through with blood,” Ellery sighed, getting out of bed. “Here, let me go get you an old shirt and some dressing.”

Jackson snorted. “The old shirt thing is looking like a pretty good idea about now, isn’t it!”

Ellery paused to touch Jackson’s hip as he passed. “Yes, you’re very wise. So they gave you scrubs and… hand-me-downs?”

“Lost-and-founds,” Jackson corrected. “This one was apparently from the maternity ward.” He held the shirt front-first, and Ellery could see the adorable little picture of a baby bunny and the caption Baby on Board.

“Did you let Henry choose that?” he asked suspiciously.

Jackson grimaced. “Lance chose it, but I suspect they were both on the same page.”

“Stop bleeding so fucking much?” Ellery asked, the acerbic edge to his voice a surprise.

“Yeah.” Jackson let out a tired sigh. “Can you yell at me for this tomorrow?” he asked, head lowered humbly. “I, uhm, may have mentioned it but—”

Ellery came closer, bandages in hand, and noticed that Jackson was shivering. “You’re tired, you’re hurt, and you never did get warm, did you.” He let out the irritation. “Yes. And no yelling. You did everything okay—I’m being an ass. Come on, turn around. Lift up the scrubs so I don’t have to.”

Ellery had to suck in his breath when he saw the bandages. From Jackson’s scapula down past his ribs to his waist. The cut was mostly superficial because it had skated along bones, and because in spite of maintaining his diet-and-exercise regime, he still didn’t have much meat on them.

“Wow,” he said, voice shaking. “Did they give you blood?”

“Fluids,” Jackson said. “Mostly topical anesthetic with some ibuprofen. Henry dropped me off on the way to his apartment. Thanks for the Federal Marshals to watch Cody, by the way. One of them went to his apartment to see if he could get a suit. He’ll text us by seven if Cody’s shit has been put in storage.” He sucked air in through his teeth as Ellery began the now-familiar task of dressing his hurts.

“Well, it was a long, hard sell,” Ellery told him honestly. “I basically had to lay out the entire case to the DOJ. It wasn’t pretty.”