“Quit pouting,” Reed said, flipping the page on his borrowed book. Lily had gotten him something to read from the library at her family home in town. The Last Swordsman wasn’t nearly as interesting as he’d hoped it would be, based on the title. His medications made it difficult to stay awake and the book wasn’t really helping.

It was Timmons’ shuffling where he sat on his bed that was keeping Reed awake. He was trying to work out a logic puzzle of a tied rope with some wood blocks on it.

Timmons flinched. He was on babysitting duty today, since Reed was still in and out of sleep and frequently needed help with things like getting to the bathroom. His new medications were much better than the baby aspirin he’d gotten before. They actually knocked him out.

“I told the Vice-Captain about Rimmer,” Timmons said.

It took Reed a moment to recall who that was.

“And about you actually assaulting him.”

Reed nodded.

“I asked around a little and that guy’s the Matron’s son. He’s why you got…” Timmons swallowed and looked down. “You’re gonna get a lot worse than this for hurting him.”

Placing his marker into the book, Reed set it down on his lap and looked at Timmons. “That so?”

Timmons set the logic puzzle on his night table and dropped his feet to the floor as he turned to face Reed. “You’ve kicked a hornet’s nest, Reed. Stop grinning.”

“Oh. They don’t know who they’ve messed with,” Reed assured. “I’ve got forty years of experience with this kind of bullshit.” He tipped his head to look at Timmons, knowing he was a bit high on the pain medications and probably shouldn’t have been saying any of this. “They’re going to be questioning reality by end of the month.”

“You’re on bed rest for the next three weeks,” Timmons said blandly. “And Davis told me if you’re caught out of bed without assistance in that time, I’m on toilet scrubbing duty until I’m commissioned.”

Reed smiled at him. “I won’t be caught,” he assured. “Because you’re going to help.”

Timmons puffed, shuffled, and folded his arms with a groan. “Reed! You’re not thinking straight. Forty years? You’re fifteen.”

Reed laughed and looked at the ceiling. “I thought you wanted to learn how to cause trouble like a master?”

“But you’ll be caught!”

“Nope! Promise!” Reed said with another grin. “I won’t have even left the room.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

“Use you.”

Timmons sighed, hanging his head. “I’m not good for much except punching people!”

“Not true. You make friends pretty easily. Go make friends with the staff from Eastern Barracks. Take them out to M’boyo’s. Tell some of my stories. Show them a good time.”

Frowning, Timmons tipped his head against his shoulder, arms still crossed as he rattled his heel against the floor. “How’s that gonna help?”

“Get them to talk about how much they hate the Eastern Barracks knights and squires. Then you tell them how it’d be funny if everything in their rooms was shifted two centimeters over from normal. Not enough to be visually different. But enough. And after a day, move it back. And after another day, move it the other direction.”

Timmons’ brows lifted as his jaw dropped.

“See, I couldn’t do any of that by myself anyway. And being as I’m on bedrest…” Reed smiled again. “Take Avery with you.” Lifting a finger, Reed said. “See which one of you can get the Eastern Barracks staff to pour milk between the walls first.”

Timmons covered his mouth and folded over his knees.

“Swap things between rooms. Like pillows,” Reed added.

“Pillows?” Timmons choked.

“Yeah. You never notice, but your pillow smells like you. Imagine sleeping with someone else smell? Weird, huh? But you can’t say your pillow smells weird.” Reed yawned. Sleep was going to happen whether he wanted it or not. “Never anything valuable. That’s the key. Never.”

He lost the fight.

When he woke, Lily was sitting in the chair beside his bed, reading by lamplight. Timmons wasn’t there.

Reed wiped his eyes. “Timmons go out?” he asked.

“Yes. Said you sent him on a mission.”

Chuckling, Reed nodded. “Just some fun.”

“Fun?” Lily asked. “You realize you’ve started a war with the Temple.”

“Oh. Timmons isn’t dealing with that problem yet,” Reed assured. “You gonna sit in that chair all night?”

Lily looked down at her book.

“I wouldn’t suggest Timmons’ bed,” Reed said. “Plenty of room here. I ain’t done anything weird in it.” He could see her hesitation and said, “Offer’s there, take it if you want. I probably won’t wake up.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lily said. She knew teenage boys well enough to understand Reed’s meaning about Timmons’ bed. But she clearly didn’t think she could trust Reed’s word either. “Time for your medicine.” She set her book on the edge of his bed to measure the powder. Reed took it and the glass without complaint. “Need the bathroom?”

“Yes,” Reed agreed.

She helped him up.

Reed had taken a lot of drugs on Earth in his years. He’d not been a good kid and the people he hung out with weren’t great either. While he couldn’t identify exactly what he was being given, he suspected it was probably an opiate. “Can you cut the dose in half next time?” Reed asked as he stumbled against her.

“The doctor said a sugar spoon whenever you were awake for it.”

“I don’t wanna get addicted. Wouldn’t mix well with whisky,” Reed said, lowering his voice as they got into the hall.

She sighed. “You’re fifteen. Why are people serving you whisky in the first place?”

"You didn't object when you went out with us the other night."

Opening the bathroom door. They stepped in. The floor crunched under Reed’s foot.

Moving quickly, Lily pulled him back, but it was too late; his foot sank through the floorboard. Landing on the hall floor, his head cracked against the boards hard enough to make him see stars.

“Shit!” Lily gasped. She lifted his leg out of the hole, pushing his pant out of the way.

Someone down the hall opened their door to look out, then hurried down to kneel beside Reed. “What happened?”

“Floor gave out,” Lily said.

“What’re you doing helping him at this hour?”

“Timmons was with him all day. He needed a break,” Lily said. “He’s bleeding.”

Reed closed his eyes. The world was spinning.

That didn’t help.

He opened them again to find himself face-down on a bed, his back exposed to cold air and someone dabbing his wounds.

“I’m so sorry, Reed,” Lily whispered, voice broken, holding his hand, petting his hair.

“How’s that your fault?” Reed mumbled, though he couldn’t tell what language he’d said it in.

Thankfully, someone else said the same thing. Captain Bass spoke up, “That floor’s been a hazard for years now. Just bad luck it gave out just then. Brenst will be here in a few minutes.”

Reed assessed himself groggily. He must have jostled his back when he fell. “Head’s fine. Meds just kicked in.”

“The doctor will determine if your head is fine or not,” Bass said sternly.

“Does he feel no pain?” someone asked. “Nyltia bless…”

Reed took a moment to recognize Squire Robin Greene. He’d been the one to come out of his room at the noise. “Sure I do,” Reed answered lazily, “I just choose to ignore it.”

“What did he say?” Greene asked.

“Reed, speak Durrish.”

“Oh…” Reed couldn’t put his thoughts together to figure out what he’d just said anyway. “Damn it…” It didn’t matter anyway. “Never mind.” He closed his eyes again. Lily petting his hair felt nice.

“Just broke open the scabs,” a man was assuring as finger felt through Reed’s hair, gently prodding. “No damage to his skull. Probably just sounded louder than it actually was.”

“Told you,” Reed mumbled.

The doctor’s hands paused, then he leaned into Reed’s view. “You’re awake?”

“I still need to piss,” Reed grumbled. “Can you half the meds? I’ll deal with the pain, I can’t fucking think.”

“What did he say?” someone else asked.

“How many fuckers are in here?” Reed grouched. He was turned to face the wall. Moving was out of the question.

“Uh…” Brenst cleared his throat. “I brought my assistant,” he told Reed. He moved away. “Let’s get you set up now and finish wrapping the bandages.”

Reed got his hands under him and slowly pushed up.

“Owen,” Bass objected.

Looking at his captain from over his shoulder as he collapsed back onto his butt, Reed chose one of the two he was seeing to address. “I can’t feel my ass anyway, Sir. What’s gonna stop me from takin a walk by myself?”

Apparently, he’d spoken in the correct language this time. Doctor Brenst, a man he’d only seen in passing grabbed his face with both hands, turning his head toward the lamp. Someone else wrapped gauze around Reed’s torso, moving Reed’s arms out of the way with every wrap until Reed picked his hair up and held it on top of his head.

“I don’t want the pain meds,” Reed asserted to the doctor.

“That isn’t just for pain, young man. It has an antibiotic mixed in.”Brenst looked in Reed’s eyes, pulling his lids back and mumbled. “Pupil dilation delayed. I’ll remix the medication. For now, half a sugar spoon every four hours. Once I have the new mix, you’re to finish the bottle.”

“Aite,” Reed agreed.

He felt the wrappings get tied off and dropped his hands.

“You still had to urinate?” Brenst asked.

“Yeah.”

He was handed a jar.

***

Reed only realized he had a bandage on his leg after he was settled into bed again. Lily sat in the chair next to him, keeping her gaze lowered. He picked at the covers in confusion. Lily could tell he was fighting sleep as he lay on his back.

“Quit staring,” he mumbled in Ingvanic again. His gaze became sharp as he focused on her. “If you’re sorry, c’mere.”

Lily didn’t immediately understand what that last word meant, but he patted the bed next to him. Slowly, she moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Lily, I’m cold. Lay down.”

“Now you’re just lying,” Lily accused.

The grin he gave her was wide as it was mischievous. “Can y’blame me? Can’t pass a chance to get a hot girl in bed with me.”

She felt her blush start in her ears, then covered her face with both hands.

Reed laughed, caught her elbow and tugged with enough strength to make her sway.

Wanting to tell him that he was wrong warred with enjoying getting told that he thought she was attractive. He tugged again and Lily lowered her hands to look at his face. He was a handsome young man. If he hadn’t been Hannish, she might have gotten away with asking her mother… but then again, her brother would have objected anyway. Hannish or not, they were both Squires and Liam already thought Lily’s obsession with swords was unseemly behavior for a woman.

Lips trembling, Lily leaned down and removed her boots, then slid under the blanket with him. He made room for her against his side, under his arm.

Admittedly, she didn’t know much about the boy—no young man. Lily further amended to just man as Reed’s hand brushed her hair back from her face and mumbled, “There. Ain’t so bad.”

“I’m not hurting you?” she asked, nervously.

“Nah. Can’t feel my toes at this point.” His expression flinched slightly. It was an expression she’d seen cross his face in his sleep frequently, usually just before he woke up. His sleep was always fitful, even if he didn’t seem to recognize that he’d woken up briefly.

“What do you dream about?” Lily asked, her hand resting on his heart. She could see the lotus tattoo through the open laces of his shirt. Her fingers started tracing the lines unconsciously.

“Dream?”

“When you wake up moaning, like you’re afraid.”

Reed remained silent and she thought he might have fallen asleep. “Losing my legs again,” he said in Ingvanic. “Worse than death. I wish they’d let me die that day… Fun as it is here, not worth those ten years.” His voice trailed off and he twitched, confirming that he’d fallen asleep.

He might have fallen asleep, but Lily lay with her eyes wide open. What in Nyltia’s Name had he meant by any of that? She knew Brenst was going to bring a different mix of medications, so Lily felt that if she wanted to get some answers, asking him now might be her only opportunity.

Gently, she poked him.

“Huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hu?”

“Your legs?” Lily prompted.

“Blown off,” Reed mumbled. He shifted slightly, carefully rolling to his side, arms going around her fully, face in her hair. “Smell nice…”

“What was blown off?” Lily asked.

“M’legs.” Still, he was speaking Ingvanic. “Stepped on it…”

Keeping him awake wasn’t going to work. The pull of his medications was too strong.