Page 23 of Rarely Pure and Never Simple

"Oh." Damien shifted, trying not to show his embarrassment. "You know from personal experience?"

"Hell, no. Not… my flavor."

Damien freed a hand to push Blaze's soaked hair back. "I understand not liking pain."

"Well, yeah. Don't like that flavor either," Blaze muttered.

At least Blaze had managed a whole sentence. "You want me to call the nurse? Get you some pain meds?"

Blaze shook his head. "Don't like the fuzzy brain thing. Just stay there. You're doing good for a twitchy neurotic."

"Hmm."

"Damien?" Blaze finally met his eyes, the pain there almost too much to bear. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Blaze reached up to point at the plas-bandage on Damien's forehead. "I promised to keep you safe."

"I am safe." Damien took the shaking fingers in his own and gently lowered Blaze's hand. "Three men held me at gunpoint. I walked away. Because of you."

A heavy exhalation of breath was Blaze's only answer. Damien could only guess that he was disappointed in himself. But he had taken out two gunmen and distracted a third…

The memory of blood on his shovel hit Damien on a wave of nausea. "Blaze, I think I killed someone."

"Yeah? The guy who shot me?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Damien tried to pull his hands away, but Blaze only hung on tighter. "Good? I think I bludgeoned a man to death with a shovel."

"You have some bizarre, misplaced guilt, you know that?" Blaze eased his grip. "That jackass would've killed you. Just like he and his buddies killed those poor kids. He just about killed me. You saved my life, Twitch."

Damien swallowed hard, staring at their joined hands. "I don't… it's not there."

"I see." Even lying down, Blaze tipped his head to the side when he puzzled over something. "I'd wondered. You black out when you do a complete freak out, don't you?"

"It's… sort of." Damien closed his eyes. "It's more like being lost in a blizzard. I'm still there. I know I'm reacting and I can't stop. Everything's dim and blurred, and I'm never quite sure. I get lost. If it's bad enough—" He broke off with a shrug.

"It's happened before. You've come back from your blizzard and realized you killed someone, haven't you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "Yes."

"Damien. Look at me."

It was half demand, half plea, and said so gently Damien felt obliged to comply. Blaze met his gaze stare for stare, something so few people were willing to do.

"I'm not afraid of you. Hear me? I know I'm an obnoxious bastard who might call you names, but I know you're not some random psycho."

"I… see."

"Who was it? So we're clear and you don't think you have stuff to hide. No details. Just who."

Damien looked away, out into the dim hallway and the restless shrouds of memory. "My uncle. The one who raised me."

"There." Blaze patted his hand. Damien glanced back to see those gray-green eyes sliding shut from exhaustion. "Now we know each other's deep, dark secrets. Still not scared of you. You can't scare a man who killed his own mother."