Page 181 of Should the Sky Fall

Dawson is there to pick Cal up at 12 o’clock sharp, hugging him so tight Cal feels his ribs creak. He doesn’t mind.

The doctors say something about complications post-surgery and genetic predisposition. Cal listens with one ear, too anxious to pay attention. He’s given a plastic bottle of something called beta-blockers. Apparently, he needs to take those now, probably for the rest of his life.

“Feels like déjà vu, huh?” Dawson says as he drives them out of the hospital’s parking lot.

“Not really,” Cal admits.

“No?”

“I know who I am this time.” He’s just not sure if it’s a good thing. A part of him wishes he hadn’t remembered anything. Ignoranceisbliss.

“Hm. It’s a good thing you didn’t lose your memory again,” Dawson says with a chuckle.

Cal is quiet for the duration of the drive, his stomach threatening to turn itself inside out.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? You’re unusually quiet.”

A tentative smile pulls on Cal’s lips. “Are you saying I never shut up?”

“Cal,” Dawson says solemnly.

Cal takes a deep breath. They’re a block away from their apartment.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Dawson shrugs. “Yeah, sure. But can it wait until we get home? There’s someone who missed you.”

“Donut missed me?” Cal finds that hard to believe. Donut has warmed up to him somewhat, but miss him?

“Oh yeah. Kept whining all night long. Had no one to bully.”

“Ah. I can believe that.”

When they get to the apartment, Donut is already waiting at the door, barking his head off and bouncing up and down.

“There he is!” Dawson laughs. “Look who’s home!”

Dawson wasn’t lying. Donut barely pays him any attention, forcing his way towards Cal and attempting to jump into his arms. Chuckling, Cal drops into a squat and lets Donut assault him with stinky kisses.

“Yes, yes, it’s me. I missed you too. Hi.”

“This needs a picture,” Dawson says, pulling out his phone and snapping a photo. “Aww, look at you two. So cute!” He shows Cal. And yes, they look cute. They look happy.

Which makes all of this so much harder.

Cal rises to his feet. “Dawson? That thing I need to talk to you about…”

“Hm?” Dawson looks up from admiring the photo. “Oh yeah. Go ahead. I’m gonna start on lunch. What would you like?” He turns around and heads to the kitchen.

“Anything is fine,” Cal says, though there’s no way he could eat now.

“I looked up low cholesterol recipes while you were at the hospital. How do you feel about salmon? I never asked if you like fish now.”

“Dawson.”

“Come to think of it, I could—”

“I remember.”