“Oh,” Ty said abashedly. “Sorry.” “Its okay. Just confirms that you dont even have to think about it.” Zane tipped his head, turning an ear toward him. “You going to stand there til the pizza gets here?”
“Thought about it. Kinda hurts to sit,” Ty admitted.
“Still hurting a lot from the baseball game?” Zane frowned. “You didnt go into the building and get hurt, did you?”
“Nope,” Ty answered as he sat down. The couch beside Zane shifted as he got comfortable. Zane still frowned, listening to Tys voice carefully, but there was nothing there to clue him in. “Id like to know what happened. One moment I was walking through this store to check the storeroom, the next Im waking up to total black.”
“There was an explosion,” Ty told him. He grunted heavily, and the next thing Zane knew, Tys head was resting on his thigh. “About a dozen agents and cops were injured. Six of ours in the hospital. No fatalities, as far as I know.”
Zanes frown faded, and he moved his hand to gently settle atop Tys head, stroking lightly. “You saw it from the truck?” “Yeah,” Ty answered softly. He stretched, set his drink on the table, then settled back against Zane. “You were carried out by a very large fireman named Tank,” he informed Zane in amusement.
“Tank?”
“Thats the guy who ran me over.”
“Oh yeah, met him at the field briefly.” Zane slid his fingers down over Tys cheek. “Got about half an hour on the pizza. Why dont you catch a quick nap?”
“You gonna be okay?” Ty asked him, not even trying to argue. “Im staying right here,” Zane said, his hand settling on Tys shoulder so his fingers flickered along Tys temple through his hair. He felt Tys arm move, and he imagined Ty was probably putting his forearm over his eyes like he did when he was worn out.
“Wake me if you need anything,” Ty mumbled. “Okay,” Zane murmured as he rested his neck a little more comfortably along the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He tuned into Tys breathing as Ty relaxed, smiling as he felt Ty go to sleep, and after a quiet minute, Zane carefully shifted, pulled out the cell phone a helpful nurse had saved from his suit, and activated the voice command function.
“Call Deuce Grady.”
Did you say “Call Deuce Grady”?
“Yes.”
Dialing.
Zane took a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly as the phone rang on the other end, somewhere in Philadelphia. Ty didnt even twitch in his lap.
“Hello,” Deuce answered after the second ring. There was nothing terse or clipped in the way he answered the phone, just another trait of Deacon Gradys that was wildly unlike his brother.
“Hey, Deuce,” Zane managed, pretty happy that his voice came out sounding mostly normal. “Hey, Zane, hows it going?” Deuce responded easily. Zane swallowed. “Not so great,” he admitted.
“Whats wrong?” Deuce demanded, his voice losing the laid-back quality and becoming more urgent. “Is Ty hurt? Are you hurt? Why didnt Ty call me to tell me? Is he even conscious? What happened?”
Zane resisted the urge to laugh as he gently petted Tys hair. “Ty is fine. Hes asleep. He wasnt the one hurt this time.”
“Oh,” Deuce muttered, not sounding at all embarrassed over his outburst. “But youre hurt? Are you okay? What happened?” “An explosion happened. A surprise one,” Zane answered. “Im okay. Mostly. No limbs missing or anything,” he tried to joke. “A surprise explosion,” Deuce repeated slowly. He sounded like he might be writing that down. “Interesting,” he drew out under his breath. “As opposed to a not-surprise explosion. And it did what, exactly?”
“Apparently some of the parts in my head got a little scrambled,” Zane said awkwardly. “I cant see.”
“You cant see what?”
“Anything. I cant see. Im blind.” Zane was pretty proud that his voice didnt shake or break upon saying it out loud like that. “Youve lost your vision,” Deuce summarized in a clinical tone, not an ounce of pity or apology. “Is this a permanent thing?” he asked more carefully. He seemed to be wavering between psychiatrist and friend as they spoke.
Several seconds passed before Zane realized he hadnt answered. “They dont know,” he murmured, recalling bits and pieces of what the doctors had said.
“I see.” Deuce was silent for a long moment. “Let me ask you this, Zane: are you calling because you need a friend or because you need a shrink?”
“I want to talk to you, Deuce, not Dr. Grady,” Zane said, knowing he sounded a little plaintive. “I know weve sort of blurred the lines along the way.”
“Then let me just say: dude, that sucks,” Deuce drew out with feeling.
Zane cracked a grin and laid his hand on Tys chest so he could feel it rise and fall evenly. “No shit, man.”
“Are you with Ty or are you staying alone?”
“Were at my apartment. I know my way around here,” Zane said. “I just got out of the hospital. I dont even know what time it is.” Deuce hummed thoughtfully. “Did Ty tell you our greatgrandmother Elsie was blind? She had this watch that you could flip up and feel to tell time. Ty might have it. But then, that was twenty years ago. Theres also a button on your phone that will do that, I think.”
“Weve not had much chance to talk. I was really out of it for a while. Its still… sinking in,” Zane said slowly. “The panic is starting to creep up on me, and Im trying to let him sleep a little.”
“I can imagine,” Deuce said sympathetically. “Doesnt do any good to tell you not to panic, either.” Zanes laugh had a little edge to it. “Right.” He blinked several times, resisting the urge to rub at his dry eyes. The doctors had said over and over that it wouldnt help and would probably hurt. But he wasnt sure where the bag from the hospital was, and even if he did know, he wasnt going to wake up Ty to get to it. “This… isnt good,” he said, and his voice definitely shook.
“What can I do to help you, Zane?” Deuce asked in a gentle voice.
“I just… not much scares me anymore, you know?” Zane tried to explain. “But this….”
“You dont deal well with uncertainty,” Deuce observed almost clinically. “Not many people do. Why does it scare you?” “I cant work if Im blind. What am I going to do with myself? I couldnt stand the idea of someone having to—” Zane cut himself off before his voice rose any further. He wouldnt be a charity case. He just couldnt stomach it.