Warnings: incest and swearing

Two hours later, they had admitted Eli to a room, where it was determined that he would have to stay for about two weeks. Needless to say, my beloved older brother wasn't happy in the slightest, especially after his pain medication wore off. He was having more mood swings than Mom does when she's on her period, and that says a lot.

Once Mom had left for the night and we had the room to ourselves, Eli scooted over to give me room beside him on the bed. "You alright, bro?" I asked, resting my head on his chest. "Yeah," he said, wrapping his good arm around me, "I'm just a little sore. And tired. Mostly tired." I yawned and closed my eyes for a brief second. "Then go to sleep," I said, snuggling closer to him. "I can't," he said, "My head hurts like hell and I've still got nurses coming in to check on me every two hours. Kinda hard to fall asleep like that."

I laughed, because I knew the real reason he didn't want to sleep. He had been scared of hospitals since he was five and Uncle Kenny died. I didn't blame him. They kind of freaked me out, too, but I knew nothing was going to happen to either one of us that night, because we had each other. I looked up to see him smiling, probably thinking the same thing. "You know," I said, trying to lighten the mood, which had become more than slightly awkward, "Once they take those stitches out of your forehead, you're probably gonna look more like Frankenstein than ever."

He rolled his eyes and kissed me on the forehead before saying, "But you know you just love the good doctor's little monster." I smiled. He made that joke so often that I could easily predict when he was going to say it by then. Then again, it probably would have helped if Mom and Dad hadn't let us watch Frankenstein a few years before. "You're so predictable," I said, hugging him gently, "That's gonna get you in trouble when we start helping other Gifteds again. And the EG's (Evil Gifteds) can read you like a book by now anyway. You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days, and I just hope I'm around to avenge your lazy ass, because nobody else on Dr. L's team is gonna do it."

Eli just sighed and kissed me, his way of telling me to shut the hell up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, all our pent up desire from all the post Recovery Room stress coming out in that kiss. We separated a few minutes later for air. "I love you, Eli," I said, snuggling up to him again. He smiled and kissed the top of my head, wrapping his good arm around me again. "I love you, too, Kaylee," he said, "Always have, always will."

We stayed lying like that for a few minutes before Eli finally fell asleep. A few minutes later, I finally allowed myself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. When I awoke about an hour later, Eli was already wide awake and shaking like a leaf. "What's wrong?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him. "It hurts," he whimpered, tears filling his eyes, "It hurts."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and remind him that he had just survived a serious car accident and hours of major surgery, if only because he looked so scared and helpless. "What hurts?" I asked. "My head," he whimpered, forcing his eyes shut, tears still streaming down his face. I looked up to see the bandages around his head soaked crimson with blood. 'God,' I thought, 'What the hell did he do in his sleep? He was fine an hour ago.' My thoughts trailed off there when he grabbed my arm and started screaming. For the first time in my life, I truly thought I was going to lose my beloved Eli.

Just when I was truly starting to fear for my brother's safety, the nurse finally walked in to check on him. As soon as she saw the blood, she ran for the doctor. When the doctor walked in, Eli stopped screaming, though he was still crying. "What happened?" the doctor asked, looking at me. "I don't know," I said, squeezing Eli's hand, "I was asleep up until a few minutes ago." Eli whimpered beside me, and I once again felt totally helpless.

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder and had him tilt his head back slightly. "Probably pulled the stitches," he muttered, unwrapping the bandages. Eli squeezed his eyes shut again and tightened his death grip on my hand. "It hurts," he whimpered again, "It hurts." I wanted so badly to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright, but I knew I couldn't. I hated not knowing if my brother would be alright.

As it turned out, the doctor was right. Eli had started tossing and turning in his sleep and had pulled out some of the stitches in his forehead in the process. After a painstaking half hour of holding Eli still while the doctor re-stitched and re-wrapped his wound, he finally relaxed. "Feeling any better?" I asked. "Yeah," Eli said, resting his head on my shoulder, "But that's probably all the medicine in my system right now. It's probably gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning, though. Hell, it'll hurt like a bitch in a few hours."