Silas' POV:
"Don't you fucking dare touch me!" Lincoln exclaims, rushing and hiding behind me while Atticus licks his fingers. "That is so unsanitary! Go wash your hands!"
We were peacefully eating pancakes until Atticus poked Lincoln's nose with syrup covered fingers. Of course, he had to target our tidy and control freak of a boyfriend who despises being dirty.
Lincoln's now hiding behind me (like I'd protect him! I don't want to be covered in syrup!) and glaring daggers at Atticus.
"Babes, relax," Atticus purrs, walking toward us.
I put up my version of a force field, keeping a wall between Atticus and us two who don't want syrup on us.
"Sorry, I don't want syrup on me," I apologize, and Lincoln relaxes behind me, stepping to my side. "Go wash your hands and I'll put the blockade down."
Atticus mocks me by forcing his voice to a higher pitch. "Go wash your hands and I'll put the blockade down. Blah blah blah. My name is Silas and I'm a brat who sides with Lincoln."
"Stop mocking me," I say once Atticus has reached the sink and is rinsing off his hands with soap and water. "See? I kept my promise and put it down."
Lincoln grins and skips over to Atticus, and he stands on his tip toes to kiss his cheek, but Atticus turns and licks the side of Lincoln's face.
"Ew!" Lincoln shrieks. "Atticus!"
I can't help the chuckle that bursts past my lips, earning me a glare of betrayal from Lincoln. "Sorry, it was funny," I tell him, because it was.
"If anyone in this house licks me outside of a sexual setting, they will feel my wrath!" Lincoln exclaims, stomping over to grab his briefcase. "Come on, Silas."
I watch Lincoln walk away before he turns around with a sigh and stomps back over to Atticus.
"I love you, have a good day," he says, accepting the apologetic kiss on the lips that Atticus gives him.
To be honest, I'm relieved that Atticus doesn't try to lick him again, because we'd probably end up calling Atticus' work partner, Jared, to report a murder.
"Love you too, babes," Atticus says, hugging Lincoln before he makes his way to me and kisses me as well, hugging me tight.
He's a great hugger; he's gentle and rubs my back when he hugs me, and it's always tight enough that I feel comforted and safe.
Lincoln is good at hugging me as well, but it's a little different because he's shorter than me. With Lincoln, I feel more like I'm protecting him (which I love) so it's different but still enjoyable.
However, even though I feel like I am protecting Lincoln when I hold him, I know he'd kill anyone who dares to be rude to me or Atticus.
"I'll see you two later tonight," Atticus says, grabbing his keys and wallet.
His suspension ended on Tuesday, and I'm so happy to see the spark back in his eyes because he's not stuck at home all the time. It was horrible to watch Atticus fall apart like he did when he was trapped at home all day.
I get in the car, putting my lunchbox and Lincoln's briefcase at my feet. Since I never got a license and only an ID that basically says "hey, this guy has a genetic malfunction," Lincoln or Atticus always drives whenever we go anywhere.
Not that I've really gone anywhere, since I'm still not comfortable going to stores if I don't have to. We really only drive to work and sometimes drive through Starbucks on days when Lincoln feels like being nice to me.
Lincoln drives down the road toward his office, keeping his hand on my thigh the whole time. He always does this in the morning, and it always keeps me calm during the car ride so I'm prepared during the car ride to take on the day.
I put my lunchbox under my desk when I arrive and find Beni at the desk. Thankfully she's at the office a lot because she's full time and has come in for a couple extra hours every day to help me out because I'm only a week and a half in, so I'm still learning.
No matter how quick a learner I am, there's a lot of stuff to do. Not only do I schedule people and take calls, I also have to check people in, run and print reports, and deal with cranky parents who are annoyed their child could potentially have Mistacesemia.
"How are you doing today?" Beni asks, typing something into the computer, and I'm pretty sure she's trying to break into the OSIU database again.
"Well, I got to stop my two boyfriends from killing each other this morning, so nothing new on my ends," I say, making Beni roll her eyes with a fond smile. "How are you?"
She shrugs. "Tired as hell, but nothing else is going on past that. Lincoln has quite a few appointments today for people without the malfunction and Mr. Mora is doing Mistacesemia testing on a pair of twins from California as well as his own appointments," she tells me, and I look at the schedule for Lincoln and Mr. Mora and see that she's right and that the first appointment should be arriving in the next half hour.
"So it's just checking people in and phone calls today?" I ask, because we're responsible for calling in prescriptions when people are diagnosed with whatever illness they have.
Beni nods. "I did some of them late yesterday for the tests that came back, but there's a few we need to call this morning for the tests that hadn't come back last night," she explains, showing me the list of phone numbers, names, and the diagnostics from yesterday.
Thankfully the test results for Mistacesemia are something given in the office on the day of, because calling someone and telling them that their child has the malfunction would be a horrible phone call.
I do the phone calls because Beni wants me to get better at it and thankfully the clientele that comes here is really kind, especially the regulars who don't have to deal with the malfunction.
Beni runs to the bathroom while I'm making phone calls and while I'm in the middle of a call with a very nice man who unfortunately tested positive for strep throat, an older woman walks in.
Her hair seems crispy from being overly processed with hair dye and she walks right up to the desk.
"I have an appointment at ten," she says really obnoxiously.
"Ma'am, I'm on the phone with a client, I'll be with you in a minute," I tell her before returning to my call. "Yes, Mr. Ryland, I will send the prescription to the Fred Meyers off of Cornelius Pass and Imbrie Drive. It should be ready for pick up by two, and they will call you when it is ready."
The lady is very much not pleased that she's not the queen of getting checked in because she slams her wallet and hand on my desk.
"I said, 'I have an appointment at ten!'" she yells.
"Is everything okay?" the very nice Mr. Ryland asks me, because of course he can hear this psycho bitch over the phone.
"Yes, everything is fine. I apologize for the interruption. Now, as I was saying-"
The lady, of course, decides this is the perfect time to scream at me. "Are you deaf or just stupid?! I am a paying client and I have an appointment at ten! It is now five minutes until then, so I need to be checked in!"
I stare at her for a few seconds before I decide to ignore her once again, continuing my conversation with Mr. Ryland, because this poor guy needs his drugs.
The lady looks like she's about to kill me, which would actually be kind of funny to see her try. As I'm finishing up my phone call, Beni walks back in and gives me a confused look as she notices the fuming lady in front of us.
"Finally, some service here!" the witch exclaims, leaning on the desk.
Beni looks between us. "What happened?" she asks me, but of course the lady starts talking before I get a chance.
"Well, I came in to check in early for my appointment and your front desk boy blatantly ignored me while I was trying to check in!" she exclaims, and I am so grateful that Beni is a normal person who can clearly see that this lady is a psychopath.
"What happened, Silas?"
"I just told you!" the bitch shrieks.
Beni shoots her a deadly glare. "I wasn't talking to you. I know my coworker and he wouldn't ignore someone without reason."
"I was on the phone with Mr. Ryland about his test results and where to send his prescription," I explain to Beni, leaning back in my chair. "Now that I'm not busy, I'm happy to check you in. Name and ID please?"
I hold my hand out for her ID, she catches sight of the M-13 mark on my arm.
She jumps back as if something burned her. "I don't want you checking me in," she says, hate filling her eyes. "Wait... you were the one on the news!"
"The one proven innocent," I say in a flat voice because I am really not feeling this conversation right now.
Beni senses this and steps in. "Silas is one of our workers and you will show him respect or you can leave. This is a place where people with Mistacesemia are welcomed and we have specialists here who are focused on the malfunction."
"I don't want him checking me in." She looks at me like a piece of trash. "Disgusting animals."
"Silas, go to Lincoln's office. She's his ten o'clock and he will not be having that appointment today. Please let him know that," Beni tells me and I almost run off because I want to cry.
It shouldn't hurt me; people like me are insulted all the time, but it still makes me feel sick.
I walk into Lincoln's office where he's typing on his computer, looking super professional and very attractive, as he always is. Especially when he has to wear his reading glasses in order to do work online.
"You know we have a system where you alert me electronically that my patient is here for a reason, right?" Lincoln asks me playfully, before he sees the broken look on my face. "Who upset you?"
"Your ten o'clock isn't happening. Beni is making her leave because she was... uh..."
Lincoln hugs me tight and I drop my face onto his shoulder as I cry. "People can be horrible, I know," he coos, kissing the side of my head. "I'm sorry, Silas... I'm so sorry."
He sits me down at his desk and rubs my shoulders between pressing kisses to the back of my head.
"I'm sorry that I'm so emotional," I say, my voice breaking with every word. "It just hurts."
"I know," Lincoln replies, and he's trying to comfort me, but I'm still in so much emotional pain.
The malfunction isn't something that can be reversed or taken away. I'm stuck with it forever and it cannot be undone.
I'm cursed to a life of people hating me for something I can't control, and all I can do is cry about it.
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