Zhen cracked open an eye to see the soft tear-streaked face of his nephew Brandyn, or Bran for short, standing before him in his galactic PJs, his inky black hair a bit rumpled and skewed. It was easy to wake up, it always was, but especially when he caught the decrepit stench of sickness. The flush high on Bran’s face also gave him a better understanding of just why Bran would be standing at his bedside.
Sitting up, Zhen’s hand pressed against the mattress as the other reached to feel his nephew’s forehead down to his cheeks. “You’re sick.”
Bran nodded, black eyes watering and lower lip quivering. “I made a mess,” he lowered his eyes, ashamed, “I’m sorry. It’s on the floor. I just woke up a-and-” His breath hiccuped, a sob starting to work its way up his throat while Zhen shook his head and slid to his feet.
“No hey, you’re fine. There’s nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong. You’re sick, kid. It happens. You know how many times I woke up puking on the floor? Too many times.” He bent his knees and scooped up his nephew. “Here’s the deal,” he glanced at the alarm clock and saw it was two in the morning. “I’m going to run you a hot bath so you can clean up. First, brush your teeth though and then after, get in. As you get clean, I’ll clean...yeah? And I’ll make you soup. You want soup?”
Bran rested his head on Zhen’s shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom and into the restroom. Within a few moments the tub was filled with steaming hot water while Bran brushed his teeth with the minty adult toothpaste since he always thought the kid’s brand tasted horrible. Zhen left him to get undressed while he took one deep breath and set off for the supplies.
“101.3” Zhen frowned at the thermometer and clutched it marginally tighter in his hand, clearly concerned as his nephew stayed in bed that morning. “A little better since before. You sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?”
Bran shook his head sharply a few times, “No I just want to stay home. Please?”
Zhen didn’t like going to the doctor either and Bran hated it even more. Still he did give his nephew a long look and replied, “Fine but if you go over 103 I’m taking you. I’ll be checking every hour understood?”
With that said he rubbed Bran’s head and stood as he handed over the tablet, “Now listen it’s fine for you to lie here and watch videos but it’s better to sleep. So don’t fight it.”
“Okay. Thanks Z,” Bran whispered while getting settled back in bed with his nightstand of orange juice, water, crackers, and animal cookies to settle him while he pulled up Youtube.
Zhen left the bedroom, hand dragging down his face as he went into the kitchen. It was five in the morning now and he had just spent the past three hours cleaning the room, bathing Bran, and then staying up with him as he puked once more before he finally got into bed.
The aftermath meant Zhen had to clean a little more of the two bedroom apartment to make sure no puke remained and the sweat soaked sheets Bran had been in before Zhen changed them were in the wash. After, Zhen sat on the couch, tired from only three hours of sleep and the concern of caring for a sick child. He turned his head and glanced up the wall to see one of the few photos he actually had hanging. Daiya was in it with a baby Brandyn, smiling sweetly with her arms wrapped around her son.
He could recall that day as a ten month old Brandyn was dressed up in a tiny suit and bowtie while Daiya fussed over what to wear.
“Dai,” Zhen sighed, clearly tired of hearing the same line from his sister as she tore through her closet. “No offense but no one is going to give a shit about what you’re wearing. It’s all gonna be about Bran. He is the focus of the picture. And besides you’re gorgeous, you don’t need to go to a stylist beforehand.”
Dai shot Zhen a scathing look, “You suck at talking people up. I know I look fine enough for a photoshoot but I want this to be special! We missed our first appointment when he was five months old because of how sick he got, remember? I just.” She picked at the sleeves of her dress and frowned, “I want it to be right. I want this photo to stick around on our walls and for him to look back on it in ten years and appreciate having this. Without his mother looking like a train wreck.”
“You don’t look like a train wreck,” Zhen gruffly responded. “Yes you worked two shifts back to back but you look great. You shouldn’t be so concerned. It’s fine.”
“I want better than fine,” Daiya grumbled as she kicked off the heels she had on and exchanged them for slide on flats. “...And I want you in the photos too.”
Zhen shook his head, “No can do. No. Sorry.”
Rolling her eyes she said, “Zhen come on if you’re worried about your scars I can get some concealer and hide them. We can get them to photoshop them out. Please,” she pressed her hands together, lip puckering out as her lashes fluttered. “For me? For Bran?”
“I can’t,” Zhen’s voice was concise, a bit strained. “I have...I have to meet with my superior officer. This is the third debriefing I need to go to.”
“How long ago did they tell you this,” Daiya furrowed her brows, skeptical of her brother who only scratched over his jaw.
“Mm. They called last night. You know I can’t say no.”
“Haven’t you already been through that case? It’s over, it happened. You told them everything you could why do they keep harassing you,” Daiya was annoyed now. She moved without all her usual grace as she looked at her reflection in the dresser mirror and lined her eyes in kohl.
“They use methods to see if there might be anything I forgot. The shock of the attack muddled my memories,” Zhen’s voice was monotone, a clear repetition of what he had heard a thousand times before. “Through certain psychotherapy methods and tactics they can begin the process of untangling my memories and figuring out if there are any missing pieces.”
“Sounds like a lot of bullshit reasons for them to keep tabs on you and try to trip you up.”
“Just be careful alright. I know you’re all ‘hoo-rah the army rules’ but these people are not your family. The ones in your special ops team might have been but the ones that sent you on missions could not give a shit about you or how you’ve recovered the last few months.” Daiya reached into the crib by her bed and pulled out the sharply dressed Bran. “They don’t care that you’ve woken up screaming or that I myself had to shake you awake when your whole body became paralyzed in your dreams. They don’t care that you’re still in pain or that you flinch anytime the microwave goes off.”
Zhen’s shoulders raised and his arms tightly wound over his chest, “If there’s any...any chance that I can remember a detail to help them close this case and find the head of the ring they’re looking for then I’ll do whatever they need Dai. It’s not about them or my honor it’s about cutting away someone who has terrorized innocent people for the last decade.”
Daiya frowned at him sadly, “...For you it is. For them? It’s not. It’s really not Zhen...look just. Lock the door when you leave. I love you.” She left with a kiss to his cheek and headed out with Bran.
The photos had turned out to be beautiful. As Zhen expected them to be. And as per her hopes they lined the walls here and there while all the rest were tucked away in storage. He regretted not being in them, but they had enough candids of day by day moments that it sort of made up for it. He couldn’t recall what all happened in that meeting that day but he did remember coming home that night and having to be talked down in the kitchen by Daiya. It had been a blur of pain and panic and he had ruined her day double by coming apart in front of the fridge curled up like a child while her baby cried in the other room.
That was the weekend before he decided to finally go to a psychologist and start taking meds. He only ever went to his appointments when it was time for a refill and liked to avoid anyone else from trying to shrink his head.
Doctors in general were avoided but he just felt guilty that his aversion seemed to be sinking into Bran as well.
“Uncle Z,” Bran’s voice cried down the hall. Zhen instantly got up, racing from the living room to the bedroom he stopped in front of the door.
“Bran? You alright,” he rushed over, hands hovering, but Bran just nodded.
“Can you lay with me,” Bran asked, voice small. “I want to sleep but I…”
“Yeah buddy,” Zhen didn’t need to hear the rest of his reasoning, he climbed right in and shifted the pillows up so he was elevated. It helped his feet not to hang completely off the mattress and so he opened his arm up so Bran could snuggle right in against him. “Just try to sleep alright? I’ll be waking you up from time to time to check your fever but we should be okay.”
“Alright,” Bran whispered, yawning as he rested his head on Zhen’s chest. “Thanks Zhen.”
As Bran slept, Zhen would doze in and out of his subconscious, mind flickering to thoughts of Daiya as his mind also took sharp turns thinking of what he needed to do to avenge her.
He could hear her voice, soft and insistent, “They don’t care…”
He thought about the folder in his car that detailed a few suspects that also fed on sexual energy handed to him from a handler. “They don’t care…”
Frowning, Zhen turned on his side and pulled Bran to his chest, rumbling with anger and sleepy irritation. He didn’t care if they didn’t care. No one else was going out there to rid the world of demons that drained humans dry and wrecked people’s lives. If he had to keep pushing himself to find her killer then he would. The Handlers could use him as much as they wanted while he used them in return for their information.
If it meant keeping people safe, if it meant keeping Bran safe...then to hell with it. He’d risk everything.
“They don’t care that you’re still in pain…”
Yeah well, Zhen didn’t care that he was still in pain either. None of that was important when he had a kid to protect and a demon to rip apart for what they did.
