Robin shook his head in soft refusal of Lucas’ offer, then braced himself before trying to push himself to his feet. He wobbled and wavered, but the couch arm was there, and then so was Lucas. He did not gallantly proffer his arm or even say anything reassuring. He bent down to untangle the blankets from Robin’s legs and came back up again before Robin could handle the realization that he was still in his boxer shorts and that he must smell like three days of sweat.
He stared at the dark cotton of Lucas’ pullover shirt. “I don’t know where to go now,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to rest again yet.”
“Can you make it to the kitchen?” Lucas hesitated. “I’m going to touch you again.” He gently wrapped his right arm around Robin’s back and put his left arm beneath one of Robin’s. The left arm seemed as strong as his right, but Robin tried not to put too much weight on it as he gamely shuffled forward.
“You don’t have to warn me each time,” Robin told him, after about a minute of very slow walking, much huffing and puffing, and lots of silent agony over the fact that Lucas’ breath was in his hair and warm on his neck while Robin stank like hot garbage. “It’s sweet of you,” he added, because of course Lucas said nothing, “but I’ve been through this before when I was taking care of… everyone, and as long as I know you’re there, it’s okay if you need to touch me to help me with something like this.” It wasn’t what Robin had meant to say, and he huffed and puffed some more as they slowly made their way to the kitchen. “I mean that I don’t mind. And I’m… sorry, you have to be here like this but I’m glad too. Without you, I’d have crawled to the kitchen.”
“And found it empty.” Lucas wasn’t letting that go.
“Well, who was supposed to fill it for me?” Robin snapped back, cranky. He was expecting the silence that followed. “Sorry.”
The kitchen lights were on, and the room itself was warm although not hot, as if the oven had been on earlier. Out the window, he could see rain.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Lucas offered, and steered Robin carefully but resolutely to the chair by the small desk while Robin again considered how strange it was that so many in the coven feared Lucas. He pretended that he hadn’t also quailed beneath one of Lucas’ stares only moments before.
He sat and was grateful for it. Lucas left him to go to the refrigerator and then to the stove.
“Really,” Robin could not seem to stop talking, “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate this. It’s just that you must be needed elsewhere. Oh, the pots are…” Lucas reached for a small pot without looking, as if he knew where to find what he needed, but then turned bodily to look for the container he’d taken from the fridge and put on the counter. He had to turn to find what he couldn’t see on that side, so he must have remembered how the pots and pans were arranged. “Has the house not changed that much since you were last here?” Robin wondered aloud.
Lucas exhaled shortly, possibly amused.
Robin sniffed. “If it works perfectly fine as they had it, I see no reason to change it.”
And also he hadn’t thought of it, tradition and habit a blur.
Lucas exhaled again, a quiet, cautious laugh that, with Lucas’ back to him, Robin smiled to hear.
The container held some sort of broth or simple soup. Lucas pulled a spoon from the tin by the stovetop and held it in his right hand to stir. He was not right-handed, but had mostly learned to be over the years. The bones in his left hand and arm had not healed quite right despite the efforts of his family and modern medicine. He could use it, but not for anything that required precision or fine motor skills. Stirring soup did not, but possibly the rainy weather was making the old injuries ache.
If that was the case, it was good that the heat was on, even though it would cost a pretty penny.
The fractured bones on Lucas’ left side, the damage to his eye, had occurred when Lucas had been twelve. He’d climbed a tree, far, far higher than he should have, because he’d been readingThe Once and Future Kingand he’d wanted to observe a hawk up close.
He’d fallen, hitting branches on the way down that had slowed his fall and saved his life, but also damaged his side from his ribs to his skull.
Hisleftside, coven members had whispered to each other knowingly. Not afraid, not worried for Lucas’ health or sorry for the pain a child had gone through, not even when infection took the vision from Lucas’ left eye as well; no, they had beenthrilled. The scarring combined with Lucas’ lock of white hair had made them practically giddy.
“Why did you cut your hair?” Robin asked, frowning when the question put tension in Lucas’ shoulders. “Not that it’s my business. I remember it longer, that’s all. In my patchy memories of the other night. Sorry about the fainting, by the way.”
Lucas turned to consider him over his right shoulder. “Rixon said my hair was a mess and that you wouldn’t appreciate being cared for by a wild man.”
Lucas’ brother did not know everything he thought he did.
Robin kept that to himself. “It looks fine either way.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you could cook, although I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Lucas shook his head. “I didn’t make this. Connor did, for you.” Robin hadn’t known Lucas’ other brother could cook either, but didn’t get a chance to ask. “I can do the basics in a kitchen.”
“Almost anything can be built from that,” Robin murmured, because it was true and also because he suspected Lucas could follow any recipe it pleased him to try, and probably brilliantly. “Thank your brother for me.”
“Wait to thank him until you’ve tasted it,” Lucas muttered, and the joke was so unexpected, Robin snorted, then winced at the sound.
Lucas huffed. Robin thought he was amused again. “My mother insists everyone have some kitchen skills. Connor does his best but I suspect he is a frozen dinner sort of person.”
“No shame in that,” Robin said reassuringly, although there had been a time in his life where he had always had meals planned, or bread rising, or a pantry full of put-up or dried vegetables to be used throughout the winter months when fresh vegetables cost more.
Lucas took a coffee cup from one of the cabinets and poured the broth into it. He put the cup down to cool while he turned off the stove and moved the pot to a cold burner. Then he brought the broth over to Robin with a hint of a smile still on his face.
Mesmerized, Robin accepted the cup with both hands and nearly forgot to take a drink.
