Page 146 of Should the Sky Fall

“That Kieran sounds like someone who could use his services.”

Cal snorts. “Ouch.”

“Yup. God, you should’ve seen Kieran’s face. I thought I was about to have to pay bail for him.”

“But everyone survived?”

“Close call, but yeah. Kieran’s never living this down, though.” Dawson yawns. “I should probably pop a painkiller before I fall asleep.”

“You haven’t taken one yet?”

“I got distracted by the massage.”

Cal sighs. “Dawson…”

“I know, I know. But I’m fine. The massage helped.” He smiles at Cal upside down and Jesus, Cal can’t be mad at him. He gives him another forehead kiss.

“Stay. I’ll get them for you.” Carefully moving Dawson off him, Cal shuffles across the bed. “Are they in the bathroom?”

“Nightstand.”

Throwing his legs over the edge, Cal flicks the lamp on and pulls out the first drawer, searching through the contents. The pills aren’t there, just a heap of chargers tangled together.

Closing the drawer, he moves onto the second one. There’s a large manila envelope lying on top, and he takes it out to get a look underneath. The envelope must’ve been open, because the content spills out, falling to the floor. Thankfully, the papers inside seem to be stapled together so they don’t end up scattering everywhere. As he bends to pick them up, his gaze catches onto the big bold letters on top of the first page.

And the whole world shifts on its axis.

The bed shifts, and Dawson’s hand touches his leg, startling him.

“Cal? Did you find them?”

Found them? Found what? What was he looking—

Right. Dawson’s pills.

“Sorry,” he manages. A dark void fills his chest as he shoves the papers in the envelope and puts them back in the drawer. He shuts it with force, as though it could turn back time and erase the last sixty seconds.

He scours the last drawer until he finds the pills and hands them to Dawson. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

The obvious pain in his voice as he presses up on his elbows to swallow the pill is enough to snap Cal from his mind-numbed state. He puts a hand on Dawson’s back, holding him up as he pops the pill in his mouth and washes it down with the rest of his water.

“I…” He swallows, his throat feeling as though it’s collapsing on itself. “I’ll get you more water.” He takes the glass from Dawson and hurries away. In the kitchen, he turns the tap on, holding the glass underneath it with a shaky hand. He stalls before returning to the bedroom, trying and failing to process what he just learned.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be—

“Cal?”

He shakes himself. “Coming!”

Dawson smiles at him when Cal steps back into the bedroom, holding the water out for him. It damn near breaks his heart in half.

He wants to—no,needs toask questions, demand what it all means, and why Dawson…why he would want that. But Dawson needs to rest, and Cal needs time to pull himself together. He needs to talk to someone.

“Is there anything you need?” he asks, voice rough and scratching the inside of his throat.

Any hope of having a chance to remove himself for a minute and be by himself disappears when Dawson buries himself under the covers and pats the empty space next to him.