#*gemini

  “I just,” Gemini said heatedly, “can’t believe it. I can’t — I cannot — believe it.” The depth of hurt and betrayal he felt blazed in his eyes as he directed yet another glare in Max’s direction. Max, who was trying to cook a reasonable approximation of a healthy dinner that fit the strict dietary needs of his very health-conscious household while also fitting the equally strict pecuniary needs of his very budget-conscious wallet, ignored Gem’s outburst. It was about the seventieth outraged exclamation from Gemini that evening. Max had grown inured to them by the fifth. “I mean, Genesis, can you believe it? Because I can’t believe it.

“I can’t believe it,” Genesis said loyally, nabbing a candy from the candy bowl in the middle of the table. Today his make-up extended extravagantly across his face like a Venetian mask, flares of green and white arcing up in delicate points past his manicured eyebrows, the jewel tones calling out the emerald flecks in his hazel eyes. With a touch of sly mischief Genesis added, “But, Gem: can you believe it?”

“I can’t!” Gemini burst out, as though his seventy-first exclamation had awaited only Genesis’s cue. “Oh, I can’t. Max, why wouldn’t you tell me that Corbin was here? I would have come running!”

The obvious facts — the fact that Corbin had not come by to see Gemini, that Corbin had been bleeding profusely from grievous claw wounds, that Max had been occupied until the very late hours of the morning with emergency care for the street kids and fighters who staggered to his door — would have done nothing to curb any portion of Gemini’s offense, so Max bit back an irritated recital of them, focusing instead on slicing the portobello mushrooms.

On top of the healing — which was not an emotionally easy task, which despite what he had proclaimed to Tristan and Juliana did in fact come at some personal cost and effort — Max could no more have closed his door in the face of someone injured and desperate than he could have thrown TJ out of his house to fend for himself on the street. It was only when dawn touched the sky on Saturday morning that the stream of people to his door stopped, meaning it was only then that Max had the time to mop the floor of blood and throw out the damaged dish towels and otherwise generally attend to the state of his small and cramped apartment. He’d called out of work for his Saturday shift at the grocery store, too tired to move, and slept until a phone call from TJ, asking permission to stay another night at the Prince’s with Jon, woke him up. Max had granted permission still half-asleep, rolled over, and slept soundly until eight o’clock in the evening.

Saturday night had gone equally as well as Friday night, or as poorly, depending on who was thinking about it. Yes, Max had managed a steady stream of healing, and no one who came to his door had been turned away — all good and well — but he had, yet again, been up all night. On Sunday, he’d forced himself to go to the one o’clock afternoon mass in an attempt not to surrender to sloth and to get his body on some kind of normal schedule. But after mass, all the kids descended on him in force. Genesis and Gemini’s simultaneous arrival, and the wail of heartbreak with which Gemini had greeted him, had done nothing to improve Max’s mood or alleviate his exhaustion. Even TJ’s steady cheer, normally so pleasing, grated on his nerves, proof enough of how shot they were with sleeplessness and his reversed circadian rhythm.

Hence, Gemini’s sense of outraged betrayal was not exactly the highest point on Max’s priority list. Nor close to it.

To TJ’s credit, he must have sensed the foul turn of Max’s mood and simply quietly stepped up next to Max at the counter to assist with preparing dinner. Mincing the garlic, chopping the onion, slicing the spinach and snipping the thyme, TJ cut Max’s prep time in half with his swift and unobtrusive assistance. Shortly, the oil was heated and the necessary ingredients began spreading the delicious scent of a wholesome dinner throughout Max’s small kitchen.

“At least Corbin told me that he came,” Gemini sniffed fretfully. “Oh my God, my poor baby. All torn up! They always give him the worst fights at the Pit, you know, because he’s such an incredible fighter, and because he’s a Drake. He told me all about it. It was like, five on one. Five on one! And the demon shapeshifter, Corbin said was the absolute worst. That’s the one that got him, he said. But he says next week he’ll get him back. Oh, I could have been such a comfort to him, Max! But all because you didn’t call me, I didn’t have the chance. It would have been perfect. I could have, like, nursed him.”

“At least Max healed him,” Genesis offered in a well-meant attempt at placation. He flicked a chocolate candy across the table at Gemini.

Gemini scooped it up and unwrapped it, his fair brow furrowed with the intensity of his feelings as he bit into the sweet. “At least there’s that,” Gemini allowed. “And Corbin said it was a really clean job, so at least I have that comfort. I couldn’t stand it if he were still in pain. I would probably still be by his side right now.” He gave a frustrated huff, his frown deepening with thought. “I really am happy he’s at one hundred percent, but you know, that would have been a really good excuse to stay by his side. I think we just need to spend more time together for him to really start like, falling for me.”

“So would you rather that he were still in pain? Pursuing your romantic agenda is more important to you than the fact that he’s okay now?” TJ said, raising a reproving eyebrow at Gem.

“No!” Gemini snapped, recoiling. “I wouldn’t — I wouldn’t ever — that’s not what I meant. You’re misunderstanding me. It’s not fair. Nothing is fair. Everything is awful.” Gemini slumped. “But if I’d been here on Friday everything would be perfect.”

“You could ask him if it still hurts,” Genesis suggested lightly. “Ask him if it hurts here… or there…”

“I did. A lot. And he said no. A lot.” Gemini almost vibrated with frustration. “The best I got was that he lifted his tanktop to show me where the demon got him. My God, I almost fainted then and there.”

Max wordlessly stirred the mushrooms. TJ sprinkled some of the thyme and spinach atop them, looking at Max sideways with an crimped expression of support and concern.