Reed

"You have got to be kidding me," came the outraged muttering from the exam room I stood outside. "There's not enough water in the world to help me swallow this."

That made me chuckle, and I leaned around the doorway. "Having problems?"

The large black man on the exam table glared at me, holding up the packaging he'd been given earlier. "First off, why is there a pill in a goddamn popsicle bag? And also, how the fuck am I supposed to swallow this shit?"

"Dom," I said carefully, ensuring my features were as serious as possible so the poor guy didn't think I was laughing at him. "You're not supposed to swallow it."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do with it?" he grumbled, flipping it around and peering at it in confusion.

"Did you read the instructions?"

"What instructions? It's a pill!"

"On the box. The box the suppository came in."

"Oh, I see. You're going to start throwing words at me now," he grumbled, fumbling around for the box. I watched as he finally remembered where he'd thrown it and grabbed it from the small trash can. "Is that the type of med?"

"Mmm, sort of. But not the name of the medicine," I said, watching him with private amusement.

I usually wouldn't play games because it was a bad idea…especially when you were treating felons. But Dom had been coming to us for weeks, and I'd got used to him and him to me. He was a good sport about most things, which was obvious considering his best friend was Elliot, the resident troublemaker and little shit.

"Here," he said, apparently finding the instructions and reading silently, his lips moving as he read. I watched his eyes widen, and he looked up, lips parting. "No fucking way!"

"It's not difficult," I told him, leaning on the doorway and chuckling. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"No fucking way!"

"Or if you want, I can show you how to?—"

"Reed, don't you dare."

"Or, if you want, I can do it for you."

"Like hell," he grumbled, glaring at the packaging. "I know everyone here wants a piece of this. But you're not getting it that easily."

I rolled my eyes. "You're not really my type, Dom."

"You know, that's what E tells me all the time, but I'm not falling for it," he said with a huff, shaking his head.

It was a well-known fact to anyone who paid attention that Elliot batted for the team decked out in rainbows. He was quite open about it. Honestly, I thought that was pretty impressive, considering the attitudes prison culture had toward people like him…and me. From what I'd heard, though, he hadn't been as open about it in prison, which was smart. Perhaps here at the ranch, he felt more comfortable in his own skin, willing to be himself, confident his back was covered.

Which was true for the administration. I'd yet to see them handle that sort of thing with anything but grace and acceptance despite the religious overtones that punctured different parts of the ranch. It was Dom anyone with a bad idea had to worry about. The guy gave Elliot hell and then some, but whoever decided they wanted to mess with Elliot had better pray to whoever they believed in because Dom was fiercely protective.

"Well, you can rest assured I'm not going to slip a finger in while I've got you bent over and vulnerable," I told him. His mouth fell open, then moved silently, gesturing helplessly. "What? I could always call Elliot in. I'm sure he'd appreciate the view."

"Alright," he snapped, picking up the small box the suppository had come in and throwing it at me. Well, he tried, but all he managed was to send it spinning through the air before it dropped half a foot from me with a pathetic sound.

"Everything alright in there?" came a call from down the hall.

I peeked out and grinned at one of the doctors in charge of the clinic. "It's alright, Dr. Gideon. Dom's just…coming to terms with his medicine."

"Coming to terms?" the older man asked, his brow furrowing.

"I've got it handled. It's just Dom," I told him.

He looked ready to protest before sighing and returning to the examination room he'd come out of. I had no doubt he was wondering if he should make sure everything was alright or trying to figure out if he should leave well enough alone. I wasn't nearly as bad about messing with people as Elliot; he could hold onto that title for as long as he wanted as far as I was concerned, but I did have a slight reputation.

"Just Dom," Dom muttered, wiggling the packaging around. "Seriously?"

I decided to take pity on him, knowing he was reaching his limit. "Look, I'll explain how to make this easier. And if you can't figure things out, I'll find a way to help you."

"I don't want help," he said, glaring at the package. "I don't want this medicine!"

"Martin wouldn't have prescribed it if it wasn't necessary," I assured him. "C'mon, you've been having issues for weeks. All the other treatments haven't worked, so here we are."

Bowel problems were pretty common, but despite that, people were uncomfortable and embarrassed to talk about them. Dom had been plagued by stomach issues, along with on-and-off constipation. Dr. Gideon was trying to figure out the source of his problems, but right now, he was making sure he didn't stay backed up until it became a serious problem.

"Trust me," I continued, leveling my eyes with his. "You do not want this problem to stay."

"It's just…I just need fiber or something," he grumbled.

I stepped in and closed the door behind me. "Look, you really don't want to know what's going to happen if you don't take a shit soon."

"It can't be that bad," he said with a frown.

"Shove the pill up your ass, and no one but me and Dr. Gideon ever needs to know."

It never failed to surprise me how small someone could look. Dom was not a small man and usually dwarfed the examination tables whenever he came in. Right now, as the reality of what he had to do settled into his thoughts, he shrank into himself rapidly. He sat, holding the packaging, staring down at it.

"This is just…man," he groaned, his shoulders slumping. "How bad is it?"

"Uh, this is where I admit I've never taken one myself," I admitted with a shrug. "But that little thing? You'll barely notice it except for being a little dramatic."

"Dramatic," he huffed, squinting up at me. "Everyone says you're so great to them, and here you are, making fun of me."

I smiled. "If I started treating you with kid gloves and gentle words, what would you do?"

"Make fun of you."

"Yeah, exactly. So listen up, and then I'll leave and give you ten minutes."

"Ten?"

"You only need five minutes at most, but I'm going to give you a few extra minutes to psyche yourself up, but more than that, and you'll talk yourself out of it."

"You think you know me like that?" he asked with a scowl.

"I was here when you had to get your flu jab and your rabies shot after that nasty scrape from the scrap pile. I also saw how you were with taking cold medicine. If you don't psyche yourself up, you get pissed, but if you go too long, you start to talk yourself out of it."

He looked up at me, frowning. "How the fuck do you pay attention to that kind of shit?"

I chuckled. "It's my thing. Came in handy…once upon a time."

"Before you got arrested?"

"Yeah."

"What, uh, what did you do?"

"Dom."

He grunted. "Not to get arrested. What you did before you ended up getting arrested."

"Oh," well, that was a lot easier to answer. "I was an EMT. I was still toying with the idea of becoming a nurse, a doctor, or a GP, but that never happened. And now…well, that's definitely not going to happen."

"Definitely?"

"Well, it's harder. In Texas, I could still get the licensure, but whether or not I'd get hired is something else entirely."

"C'mon, man," Dom said with a low chuckle. "We both know this place helps people like us with stuff like that. If you think they don't have the hook-up to get you a job somewhere doing stuff like that again, you're crazy."

It was true. Isaiah Ranch had a lot of sway, a lot more than even Dom knew, I was sure. I had seen the kind of funding that went into the medical care in this place, and it was pretty impressive. I'd worked at several clinics in Houston, and even the ones with government funding didn't have the kind of help we did here.

Which was kind of amusing actually, because before ending up behind bars, I'd never heard of the ranch. It didn't get a lot of attention, and I still didn't know if that was a good thing. Sometimes, I thought the place could use more attention, especially because of how well it worked. On the other hand, maybe there was a reason, some unspoken aspect of the ranch's deal with big names and influential figures that made it stay under the radar.

I could easily picture Mr. Isaiah taking care of all the networking, all the meet and greets, the handshaking, the wining, and dining. He was a big man with a big appetite and a big personality who exuded charm. That was where people like him came in, who could hold the fort down and keep it in working order.

"I don't know," I said. "It's worth thinking about when I get to the end of the program. There's always other options."

"So, what? You take all the shit you know, put it to work here, but when you get out, you just…don't?"

"Why not? People change careers all the time."

"Yeah, but if you were going to do that, you wouldn't have volunteered to work in the clinic. You would be out there, breaking your back in the heat."

"You do realize I have a few shifts doing hard labor, right?" I asked him, arching a brow.

He snorted, holding up his hands. "I'm not saying you don't know how to work hard. Or that you don't do hard work here, c'mon. I'm just saying, why volunteer to work here if you didn't wanna do it ever again?"

It was a valid question and one I wasn't going to answer. It was a topic I stayed away from, and other than the staff at the clinic, most people didn't dig that deep to find out I was considering other options. Secrets were plentiful on the ranch, and we were all allowed to hold onto those secrets, giving them out when we wanted.

"Do you think you're going to delay what needs to be done by grilling me about my life?" I asked him wryly. "Or are you desperate for me to give you a hands-on demonstration?"

"Oh goddammit! You're a dick," he groaned, rubbing at his forehead.

I laughed. "Alright, pay attention, I'll explain it. And I'll keep the hand gestures to a minimum."

Dom glared but listened closely as I explained the process. It didn't explain in detail, but like most people, Dom seemed more comfortable having more information. Something like this was fun and casual, even if Dom didn't think so. It was a lot harder when there was a lot more panic, blood, and screaming going on.

"Got it?" I asked after finishing up the explanation.

"Yeah, I think I can figure it out from here," he said, sighing again.

"Alright, ten minutes from the moment I close the door," I told him, walking out of the room and closing the door behind me. Dr. Gideon would have insisted I stay with Dom to at least watch what happened, but he and I had always had different views on patients.

I didn't know if it was a product of him being older and a generational thing or if his life had made him bitter and cynical. His view of patients was dim, even more so considering the people he dealt with here. The problem was, he wasn't subtle about it, and most of the guys who came in here picked up on it. Which usually meant crankier patients whenever Dr. Gideon was the doctor in charge.

I made my way down the narrow hallway toward the front lobby. Thankfully, the lights were built into the ceiling and didn't make your eyes ache after a few hours. They'd also chosen dark blue tiles instead of white, so they looked clean longer. There were seats against the wall under the wide windows that wouldn't make your ass numb…well, not in the first hour, anyway.

And there was the desk where I spent my working hours. It was big, with only my head and shoulders showing over the highest part. There was a plush chair I had pleaded with Mona to order for my sake.

I dropped into the seat behind the desk, spinning around to face the computer. I hadn't needed Mona to replace the computer, but she did after coming in one day for a random visit. She'd watched me for a moment, muttering and cursing under my breath at a computer I swear was a decade and a half old and trying to run the latest software. A week later, new computers and a small stack of tablets were put in.

"You," she said, pointing toward me. "You get these set up so they'll sync. I'm told they should be simple."

"Why me?" I had asked, confused by the attention. Mona didn't come into the clinic unless there was a dire need.

"Because you're the only one here right now who knows their head from their ass," she'd said, glancing down the hallway. Down there were two interns and Dr. Gideon, attending to someone who'd taken a fencepost through the leg. They couldn't hear her, and from her tone, she didn't seem to care. "Or do I need someone else to handle this?"

"I can manage," I'd told her, smiling a little, unsure if it was because she was insulting Dr. Gideon more than the interns or complimenting me.

"Let's hope so," she'd said and whirled out of the room with the thump of high-heeled boots that probably invited a twisted ankle that never came.

Her faith hadn't been misplaced, but it wasn't quite as smooth as she'd made it out to be. The computers and tablets could be synched up smoothly, but the software they were using…not so much. It had taken me all day to get it even functioning and another week to make it work smoothly. Ever since I had been tweaking it here and there to make it work better, but you could still hear Dr. Gideon bitching occasionally about how things ‘before' were ‘perfectly serviceable.'

"Alrighty," I said, wiggling the mouse and bringing up the screen to type in my part of Dom's exam notes. The physician in charge would have to sign off everything, but of the three doctors, Dr. Gideon was ironically the easiest to make that happen. The man wanted as little to do with me as possible most of the time and even less to do with the computer systems. All I had to do was slide a tablet at him, and he'd tap the box to signify he was signing off with an air of extreme annoyance and possibly something muttered under his breath.

The sheer irony was that I could do it myself if I wanted to. The old buzzard couldn't remember his sign-in information for anything. If I waited for him to dig out the information and slowly tap away before finding where he needed to sign off, it would take an hour. It was much smoother if I logged in for him, and while he was somewhat aware it was against the rules, he seemed to agree with me on the efficiency.

A low buzz interrupted my thoughts as the door to the clinic swung open. When I saw who it was, my brow furrowed immediately. Elliot had many contrasting aspects to his appearance: charmingly boyish face but tall, broad, and covered in tattoos. What wasn't a contrast was the look of mischief in his eyes whenever I saw him and the grin when he spotted me.

Today, there was neither.

"Uh oh," I said, leaning back in my seat. "You're looking pissed today."

He looked up, his brow still bunched together so hard I wondered if muscles could freeze that way. "Yeah, well, just give me my stuff."

His ‘stuff' was the melatonin he took at bedtime. It was one of those things that fell into the weird gray area when it came to doling out medicine. We still had to give it to him through the clinic because it had to go on his record. But it wasn't a controlled substance, so we didn't have to sit around and watch him take it or take note of when.

"I've got you right here," I said, leaning down to grab it from the top drawer. Since it wasn't a controlled medicine, the drawer wasn't locked, and the pill was in a small baggie. "I never thought to ask, why don't you take it here?"

"Because they're not sleeping pills," he said with an uncharacteristically sullen shrug. "They don't make me sleepy. They just make me realize when I'm sleepy."

"You know, in the world where Elliot lives, I'm sure that made perfect sense. In the world where the rest of us live, however," I said, raising a brow.

For a moment, I thought he'd snatch the bag out of my hand and leave, but instead, his face relaxed, and he snorted. "Fuck off, I'm not crazy."

"Nope, just a little weird," I said, dropping the pill on the counter.

"Sometimes I'm tired but don't realize it. I fight it. Like, not consciously. Trust me, I tried to realize I was sleepy, and it didn't work."

"Mmm, yeah, the first thing they tell people with sleep problems is not to think too hard about it. That just makes it harder to sleep."

"Yeah, well, it's hard for me to sleep in general. Sleeping pills knock me out, and I feel like shit. This stuff makes it so that when I'm sleepy, it's easier for me to realize."

"Oh…that makes sense. Not really, but I sleep like a baby, so."

"Bitch," he said with a laugh. "Have a good night, Reed, and, uh, if you see Leon?—"

The name caught my attention, but I kept my eyes on the computer screen, waiting a few heartbeats before replying. "What?"

"Tell him he's an asshole, but I know he means well," Elliot said, leaving the clinic before I could process that.

After a moment, I scoffed at the empty air. "Wow, Elliot, tell me something I don't already know."

If there was one thing I was more than aware of, it was how difficult Leon Malcolm Hardy could be. Oh sure, he meant well and often had the best intentions. The problem with Leon was that all his intentions didn't matter for shit, and his heart wasn't always reliable. He had managed to make just as many disasters as he had relief efforts in his life.

I should know. I'd known him since we were six until he disappeared when we were nineteen. It was seven years before I saw him again, in this lobby of all places.

* * *

"Can you handle the desk for me?" Dr. Greenway asked, looking up from the file in her hand.

I hesitated, surprised by the request. "Seriously? Are you sure?"

"Reed," she said with a light laugh. "You're the only person here I'd trust to run it."

"I've only been here a few months," I protested.

"Four, almost five, actually," she said with a roll of her eyes. "And of the people working here, we have three doctors, and I'm the only one on shift. Two interns who still think they're going to get dragged outside and beaten, and then you. And last I checked, you're able to run circles around at least one doctor here."

I knew better than to comment on that last one. Dr. Gideon wasn't exactly well-liked at…well, anywhere. Most people who worked on the ranch weren't that fond of him, but most of them didn't comment on it, or they hid it. Dr. Greenway, however, was not like that, and I appreciated it.

"It's not going to be hard. If they come in with an appointment or a medication, you know how to handle it. If they're hurt, well, last I checked from your records, you should be able to do that too."

"Uh, working a front desk is a lot different than trying to keep someone's innards in while they thrash around to bite me," I said with a sigh.

"Well, anyone tries to bite you, you handle them the way you did."

"I'm being given sedatives?"

"Mmm, maybe call for help. And I'll show up with the sedatives."

"Fine," I said, taking myself to the front desk and looking around. The chair didn't look comfortable, but at least it rolled. I dropped into it, looked around for anything to do, and realized…there was nothing. Since there wasn't much to do without patients, that had to be better than having someone come in and start demanding things from me.

It took about an hour before I realized the fatal flaw in that idea. After twenty minutes, I could feel my brain starting to itch. After another ten minutes, I thought it was going to shake out of my head. After the full hour had passed, I was scooting along the floor and spinning around as I tried to remember the jingle from a cartoon I'd watched a few times as a kid.

Finally, a buzz rang through the air, and I suddenly stopped. The room continued spinning, but I wasn't too dizzy. I scooted forward and pushed myself upright. "Hey there…what the fuck?"

It was probably a good thing I'd been holding the edge of the desk when I caught sight of the person standing on the other side. Six years had thinned the last of the baby fat from his face, and he was bigger than before, but there was no mistaking my old best friend and first crush, first love, standing half a foot away from me.

His eyes bulged almost comically as he stared open-mouthed at me. Only for him to recover with a shake of his head. "R-Reed?"

"Well!" I said with a sudden laugh, which was not humorous, but it wasn't bitter either. "I'll be damned. Hey there, Leon, no time, no see."

"Reed?"

"You're repeating yourself, Leon. Yes, it's me. Do you need me to show you the scar to prove it?" I asked, glancing down and lifting my shirt partly.

"Uh, no!" he said quickly, shaking his head. "Look, I…what're you doing here?"

"Working the clinic?"

"That's not what I mean."

I knew what he meant, but a flare of bitterness kept an answer that would have come so easily once upon a time in back in my throat. I shrugged instead, giving him a little smile. "Well, if you're here, you know as well as I do we're not supposed to ask that sort of thing."

"I…" he paused, hesitating slightly before looking down at his feet. "Yeah. You're right…of course, you are. I uh…you look good?"

"Why is that a question?" I asked, sitting in the chair and watching him with a smirk. "Was I supposed to look disfigured?"

"No!"

"Grotesque?"

"What?"

"Was I supposed to have dramatically aged? Got white hair from the sheer horror of your absence in my life?"

"I…you're fucking with me right now," he said with a weary sigh. "Which I deserve."

"You do," I said with a laugh. "But I promise I'll only torment you from now on because it's fun and not because you deserve it."

It was the first time he'd smiled at me in six years, and I hated that he was still as handsome as ever. "That sounds reasonable."

"Good," I said, leaning back in my seat and opening my arms. "Then why don't you tell me why you're here?"

"I thought we weren't supposed to ask that," he said with a smirk.

"That is not…" I began in faint annoyance before stopping, realizing I was being played, and snorted. "Alright, smart ass, why are you here in the clinic?"

"Well, I have a terminal case of shitty person and abandoning friend syndrome."

"Mmm, afraid we don't have a treatment for that."

"Well, I'm told you do have a treatment for a migraine that's fast approaching."

"You know, we might at that."

* * *

Two years later,not a whole lot had changed between us. He came in here often enough, usually for no reason but sometimes for reasons I could help with. Sometimes, we saw each other at meals or the group activities the ranch put on, but we rarely worked together outside the clinic.

It was a strange combination of having him back and yet not being in my life. Like he was avoiding me but couldn't entirely abandon me either. Maybe he wanted to avoid me, stay away like he'd done years before, but knew he couldn't do it since we were both stuck on the ranch. Or maybe he was still feeling bad about ditching me and disappearing into the wind but didn't know how to say it.

With Leon, who knew?

The door buzzed again, and I let out a laugh. "Well, were your ears ringing?"

Leon came to a stop, looking around the empty lobby. "Aren't you supposed to say that when you're talking about me?"

"Mmm, you haven't looked under the desk," I said with a salacious wink that made him sigh.

"Professional," he noted. "There's no one under your desk. You're not that?—"

"What?" I asked curiously, thinking of the time he and I had snuck into his manager"s office and used a desk for something similar to what I was alluding to. Not that I would say that out loud, of course. I always needed to keep a certain distance from our past. Always generalities and never specifics. "Too pure?"

"You're bold and adventurous, but I don't think you'd do something like that with anyone here."

"Why? No one I'm interested in? You have seen some of these guys, right?"

"Anyone coming in here would be your patient. And you're not the type."

"To what?"

"Sleep with your patients."

"All of them?

His mouth opened and then closed, face falling into a scowl. "Reed."

"You're no fun," I told him, still unsure after two years if I was being serious. On the one hand, there was no denying he was a good-looking man. The past couple of years had added muscle to his already noticeable frame, and the tan he'd accrued certainly didn't hurt. His face might be a little narrow to some, but it wasn't sharp or angular, and his eyes were a deep yellow at times, golden when the sun hit them just right.

Then again, maybe it wasn't him being attractive, and more about whether or not it was me being into him.

"You wouldn't hurt a patient like that," he continued, ignoring my attempt to tease him. Much like my own feelings, I was never sure how he felt when it came to me.

He wouldn't know it, but that was the perfect way to end my teasing. That simple statement dragged up a wellspring of guilt and shame that soured any teasing or arousal, joking or not.

"Alright, fine, fine. I can see you're in a serious mood today," I said with a sigh. "Would that have anything to do with the patient we had in today?"

"Had?"

"Riley left about, oh…half an hour ago? Best thing for him is bed rest, and I know the beds in the cabin aren't the greatest, but hey, our ball of sunshine has himself a Tier One cabin, so I'm sure he'll be fine."

He cocked his head. "I should know better, but sometimes I still find myself surprised at how much you figure out."

I snorted. "Riley talks a lot. And Max was here."

"He's his mentor, so that makes sense, but I can't imagine Max had much to say."

"Actually, he did," I said with a shrug. "You'd be surprised what someone will say when someone they care about is hurt. Even the most taciturn, antisocial, horse whispering types."

Leon chuckled, leaning on his toned forearms, covered in a fine layer of pitch-black hair. "Some people might say Max doesn't like anyone. Isn't capable of it."

"Some people, but not you."

"Nah, I've been dealing with him for a couple of years. He's grumpy and a bit of a dick, but he's not inhuman. He's bound to start liking someone other than the damn horses," Leon said with a shrug. "I think he might even like me."

"Well, I think you'd be surprised how much he seems to like Riley," I said. "He was trying to hide it, but he was freaking out. Trying to keep it under control. Everything points to worried and freaked out, and not because he would get in trouble over this."

"Hmm," Leon said, bowing his head, brow stitched together thoughtfully. I watched him chew lightly on his bottom lip, a finger tapping against an elbow, all signs he was in his head. I waited, and sure enough, he grunted, picking his head up. "I wouldn't have said it before, but that makes sense."

"What?"

"That someone like Riley might actually get through to someone like Max."

"Really? Riley is like…walking on sunshine all the time. I mean, he works hard from what I can see, considering he's not exactly scrawny, and he's got some marks from working, and he's smart from what I heard, but?—"

"Just makes sense. Pairing him with someone like Reno would have been a terrible idea. But putting him with Max makes sense to me now, points to Mona. I might not have made that same call…damn her."

I'd seen him do something like that before, so I wasn't surprised. He had always been incredibly intuitive, and his ability to gauge people was scarily accurate sometimes. On the other hand, it always seemed to slip away from him at the worst possible moments, and suddenly, everything could fall apart. It seemed better the past couple of years, at least more consistent, but it still made me wary of trusting it too much. His choices about his intuitive leaps tended to be bold, but if he lost the proverbial thread along the way, or his intuition failed him halfway through, it opened him and the people around him up to the whole experience of the crashing and burning.

"Well," I said, pushing away toward the cabinet behind me. I fished out the keys and opened it, grabbing the bottles momentarily before getting what I needed. "You don't need to worry about Riley. As far as we're concerned, he'll be back to his normal self tomorrow, most likely. A little sore for a few days, but he's young, in good shape, so he'll recover."

"Well, that's good, at least," he said, though he didn't sound relieved. I watched his left eye twitch and hold briefly before his eyes widened.

"So all you need to do is deal with your guilt because you think you're responsible for what Reno did," I said, bending down to grab a bottle of water from the fridge under the desk. Then, I placed the pills in a cup and set both the cup and bottle before him. "And take these before that migraine goes from flaring up to making you puke up everything you ate today."

He glanced at the two things and then shook his head. "And how did you know?"

"I have my ways," I told him with a smirk. There were things about Leon I didn't know, that much was true, but I knew he could be one of the most stubborn men alive.

He had also spent too many years as the assigned third parent to his siblings at too young an age and had it stuck in his head that he couldn't show weakness or pain. It didn't matter that I was literally working in a clinic meant to help him. If I told him his tells for his growing migraine, he would probably try to hide it. Right now, in his mind, what mattered was that Riley was seriously hurt, so Leon's hurts didn't matter. And while I couldn't prove it, I suspected there was some guilt-fueled self-punishment thrown into the mix.

"Though I'm less concerned about Reno's infamously bad temper and would be more concerned about another one of your guys," I told him with an arched brow.

He swallowed down half the bottle before frowning. "Who?"

"Elliot."

"Elliot, why?"

"Well, he's not the same level of sunshine and daisies as Riley, but he's not normally known for his bad attitude, especially at this time of day."

"What…aren't most guys a little grumpier after a long day?"

"Not Elliot. I think it's a product of his ADHD. A lot of people with the diagnosis tend to be night owls, more than your average person. So it doesn't matter how early he gets up, he tends to ‘brighten' as it gets later. But lo and behold, he was almost as grumpy as Max when he came in earlier. Got a laugh out of him finally, but phew, it was a close one."

"Oh. I see."

"And he also told me to tell you you're an asshole but that he knows you mean well."

"Did he?"

"Yessum."

Leon gave me a crooked smile, and I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest at the slightest flash of teeth. "Well, I can't say I blame him. He's got a few reasons to be pissed off at me right now. Now, whether or not I still think it's a good thing?—"

"You're speaking in riddles. Is what still a good thing? Him being mad at you?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, I'm asking because it's bothering you. But I'm also asking because I didn't magically start reading minds last night."

"Your sense of humor is one of your best traits, but I can't say the same about your sarcasm."

I leaned my elbow onto the desk and grinned. "And trust me, I'm not impressed or aroused by your refusal to say what's on your mind half the time."

"Half? C'mon, it has to be less than half," he protested, which at least showed some self-awareness on his part.

"Buddy, you should be glad I went for just half the time instead of the more accurate, higher number," I snorted.

"That's rude."

"And accurate. And, Leon?"

"Yeah?"

"You trying to change the subject to avoid the original is cute in theory but ineffective and a little annoying now. Actually, it was always annoying."

Leon sighed. "Is there anyone else around?"

"Nope," I said with a shrug. "Just Dr. Gideon, who's going to avoid coming up here while I'm working because he's a bitter old coot who hates my guts."

"What? You never told me that."

"It's nothing personal. He hates that I can operate the systems better than he ever could. Other people like me more, and let's not forget that he despises the idea of a felon working in the clinic."

"Wow, and he's working here, why?"

"You know what, I don't know. I asked Dr. Greenway once, and she just chuckled and said she couldn't tell me."

"Why the chuckle?"

"Because whatever the reason, it's amusing in her mind. So, that could be just about anything. If I had to guess, it's deeply embarrassing, and either he was owed a favor, or this was his only option. I plan on looking him up when I get out of this place."

Leon cocked his head. "The library has computers you can use. Monitored, sure, but?—"

"I'm not risking getting my ass chewed because I looked up information that isn't supposed to be passed around," I said. "Plus, if it's really bad, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my mouth shut when he makes another shitty comment under his breath that he thinks we can't hear because he won't acknowledge he's half deaf and the rest of us aren't. So, spill."

"It's complicated," Leon began, frowning down at the desk. "And it's about Reno…and Elliot."

I wasn't surprised, considering I'd discovered that Elliot had turned around and tried to duke it out with Reno after the incident. I had to appreciate his sense of right and wrong, but Elliot really could do with a little more self-control. Still, I suppose it was good that he hadn't actually had the chance to do anything; otherwise, his punishment would have probably been as significant as Reno's.

"So, is Reno out?" I asked.

"Uh, no."

"No?"

Leon grimaced. "I managed to negotiate him staying."

"You did? Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"That's…a pretty obvious question."

He gave a harsh grunt and glared at me. "Why wouldn't I? Trying to help him is the entire point of what I'm doing."

"You're his mentor, not his father," I told him, trying to resist the urge to sigh heavily. Another one of Leon's more endearing and frustrating tendencies was taking responsibility for too many things onto his shoulders. Trying to get him to understand that he didn't have to be responsible for everyone around him was like trying to convince the sun not to rise. It was inevitable.

"I know that," he said with a heavy sigh. "But I let this happen."

"How do you figure?" I wondered.

"I knew he had a potential problem with violence. I knew he was primed to go off at the wrong moment, but I just said…" He stopped and bowed his head again. "I should have known something was up when he decided to join the group. That's not like him. But all I did was hope it was a good sign."

"Trying to see the best in people isn't a crime. And it's definitely not your crime because he proved you wrong."

"He won't. Or at least, I think he won't. Not this time."

"Leon," I began and then stiffened when a door opened in the hallway behind me.

"Hey, Reed? This is the longest ten minutes of my life," Dom called, sounding annoyed.

"Damn, forgot he was here," I said, shaking my head.

"It's fine. I need to sleep on things anyway," Leon told me with a weary sigh. "Figure out if I'm happy with myself or not."

That was vague, but I knew there was no chance of getting him to open up. Dom had presented the exit Leon had probably been working his brain to find. There was only one option for me. "Well, maybe you could tell me the next time we've got a moment alone?"

It was the perfect opportunity for him to invite me to his place. It wasn't like visiting other people on the ranch in their cabins was forbidden, not before lights out anyway. That was even more true when we were both Tier Ones and had private cabins.

"I'm sure I'll feel a little more generous after a good night's sleep, so yeah. I can do that," he said with a small smile.

I wasn't sure I believed him, but there was no point grilling him over it. Pushing him would make him more stubborn and probably end up pissing him off. Leon wasn't prone to showing his temper, but you could tell when it started happening. Mostly it just resulted in him getting more and more stubborn, and if he was well and truly pissed off, it usually meant him doing something impulsive and stupid.

"Good," I told him, rapping my knuckles on the desk. "I'll hold you to it."

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a weary sigh. "Go take care of Dom. He sounds like he's about ready to have a temper tantrum."

"Sure, because having a patient that kicks and screams over a boo-boo is new to me," I said with a laugh.

"I can fucking hear you!" Dom barked down the hallway.

"I'm aware," I called back and winked at Leon. "Go get some rest. And here, take another bottle of water. That might help with the migraine."

"Yes, Mom," he said, taking the bottle.

"Good," I said crisply, not caring that he was trying to make fun of me. "I had better not see you in here again tonight."

"Hard ass," he said as he turned away, but his tone was affectionate.

"I've been told it's pretty firm," I said, not bothering to hide my chuckle when he missed pushing the door open and almost slammed into it. "Good night, Leon."

"Good night," he said with a shake of his head as he stepped out into the night.

Sometimes, I couldn't tell what was happening in that man's head. But if the grumbling a few doors down was any indication, I had a different sort of pain in the ass to worry about.