Trembling(42)

I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the little cry that was threatening to escape my lips.



"Jason, what happened?" I whispered.



He didn't answer. Didn't acknowledge that I'd spoken.



What had happened to him?



Shaking, I wet a washcloth in the sink and began to gently wipe away the blood, looking for his wounds.



There weren't any.



I swallowed. This wasn't Jason's blood.



Jason wasn't hurt.



Oh God. What had he done? And if he'd done it because of me, was it my fault?



Jason picked up his hands. It was the first real movement I'd seen him make. He looked at them. I'd tried to wipe away the blood, but it gathered in the creases of his palms. Underneath his fingernails.



"So much," he murmured. "So much blood."



Oh. Oh, God.



I didn't know what to do. "We'll get rid of it," I said finally. "We'll wash it off."



But there was a lot of it. It was all over him.



I stripped off his ruined clothes and started the shower. I got him inside, but once there, he wouldn't move. He just stood unmoving under the water. I needed to help him, so I got in the shower with him.



I scrubbed him and scrubbed him. Scrubbed away every trace of blood. Washed his hair. Watched the blood wash down the drain, red and pink, swirling away from us like it had never existed.



"Azazel," Jason said suddenly, as if he'd just recognized me. He caught my head with both hands, looked deeply into my eyes like he was lost, and he didn't know how to find himself.



"I'm here," I said.



"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what I . . ."



"It's okay," I said. "Whatever it is. It's okay. I love you."



"I need you," he said, and he kissed me.



His mouth was on mine insistently. I felt like he wanted to devour me, like he was pulling strength from my mouth.



I broke away. "Jason," I said breathlessly. "Jason, what happened?"



He looked at me. He looked away. "Nothing can ever happen to you," he told the shower walls. "Without you, I'm nothing."



He looked back at me, and his eyes were filled with tears.



I pulled him close, pressing my body against his. He put his lips on mine again. I felt his hands move on my skin, stroking me through the streams of water that rushed over us.



And because I didn't know what else to do, because his hands were urgent, because I felt vulnerable and frightened, I touched him back.



The water poured over us, pounding against our naked skin. And we did the best we could to comfort each other the best we knew how. Jason gave me his hurt and confusion and fear and guilt, and I took it into my body. And as we crashed into each other, I gave it all to the water. I let it wash down the drain with Jason's tears.

* * *

My alarm went off at 6:15 the next morning. Jason stirred and then sat straight up in bed. "What?" he said, his eyes searching the room.



I reached over and turned the alarm off. "It's just the alarm," I murmured to him sleepily.



Jason lay back down. He drew me into his arms. He was wide awake, even though we'd only been asleep for a little over an hour. Jason could always be alert at a moment's notice, no matter how little sleep he'd gotten. "Are you getting up?" he asked me.



"Skipping school," I mumbled. I fell asleep again almost immediately, snug and safe in Jason's embrace.



When I woke up again, it was 9:30, and Hallam was standing over my bed. His arms were folded over his chest. He wasn't saying anything. I was still in Jason's arms, and Jason was still asleep.



I looked at Hallam. He looked pissed. "Good morning?" I said.



"When did he get here?" Hallam asked. Damn. He sounded pissed too.



"Four or so," I said.



"You know I don't like it when the two of you sleep in the same bed," said Hallam.



How could he possibly be concerned about Jason and I having sex after what had happened last night? It seemed like the least important thing to focus on.



"He was . . ." I searched for a way to explain what Jason had been like last night. "He needed me," I finally settled on.



"Wake him up," said Hallam.



"We didn't get to sleep until nearly five," I said.



"Oh, spare me the details of your adolescent lust," Hallam said.



I glared at Hallam. "He needs to rest," I said.



"Wake him up," said Hallam. "And then get dressed and meet me in the kitchen."



"Hallam," I protested.



But Hallam was already going out the door to my bedroom.



I sighed. I looked at Jason, sleeping next to me. His face looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake him. Lying next to him like this, I could hear his heart beating, steady and warm against my ear. If we just stayed like this, I could pretend that everything was normal and safe. I could pretend that Jason hadn't come home covered in blood last night. We could just be . . .