231
Matt
Tony's question had caught me completely off guard. I could still hear the cartoons Quillan was watching as I tried to understand what Tony was getting at. Tony should know me better than anyone. But lately, it felt like we were strangers who just happened to share a face. I suppose he wasn't totally to blame for that.
Knowing what I know now, everything I know, and the things that I still had to figure out, I guess, in some ways, we were just strangers who shared a face.
"Why would you ask me that?"
"Don't bullshit me, Matt," Tony's voice was firm but laced with concern. "Are you taking something?"
I blinked, my brain struggling to process the question. "What do you mean, taking something?"
Tony sighed, his eyes never leaving mine. "You know what I mean, Matt. Are you using drugs? Have you been taking something to... cope?"
The accusation hit me like a punch to the gut. I couldn't believe that Tony would even think such a thing about me. The hurt and anger welled up inside me, but I pushed them down, trying to maintain my composure.
"No, Tony," I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within me. "I'm not taking anything. You should know me better than that."
Tony's gaze remained fixed on me, his expression a mixture of doubt and concern.
"Your face says you don't believe me."
"I used to believe you wouldn't lie to me. But you've been so distant lately, Matt. You've changed."
"So now you think I'm an addict?"
"I'm looking at you, and since I know that werewolves don't typically get sick, and you haven't been sick, what else can I think?"
I frowned. "What do you--"
"Have you even looked at yourself recently?" He growled. "How much weight have you lost? That tank top is practically hanging off you, and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. So just tell me, Matt. What are you taking?"
I frowned and turned to look for something with a reflection. To be fair, I hadn't been looking, but when I saw myself, I was frozen, and Dagon's words came back to haunt me.
You need to get control of your powers. Healing magic isn't like other magic.
It can drain you...
It is draining you, and you aren't feeding yourself enough to make it okay.
I had been eating more, I think. I don't know, but I hadn't been using my powers, had I?
I winced, remembering being in the hospital, being in a coma. The therapy, the shakes I had after, how quickly I had been able to leave and go to the hospital where Tony was with Ginevra. That had to be it. I ran a hand through my hair, frustration and sadness creeping in.
"Tony, I'm going through a lot right now. We both are. It's not easy for me, either, but I promise I'm not taking anything."
He came up behind me. His eyes looked over me as if he didn't recognize me. I didn't recognize me either. Had this been the reason why Mom loved pasta? What were healers supposed to eat to feed themselves? I guess I should ask Dagon or someone at the Council...
Or someone at an Academy. The thought chilled my blood. I looked away from my reflection.
"I can't tell if you're lying to me."
"I'm not. I'm just tired... I haven't been eating, I guess--"
"You eat with me and Quillan, and you're still..." Tony sighed. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you, Matt. You're slipping away, and I don't know how to reach you."
His words cut deep, and I felt a pang of guilt. I hadn't realized how much this was affecting Tony or me. I was struggling, sure, but I wasn't taking anything, though... maybe letting him think I was on something would be easier than coming up with something else to tell him.
Everyone knows that Blue Moon wolves can't do magic.
And I knew I wasn't a Blue Moon wolf, but telling Tony that would just open up a whole can of questions, secrets, lies, and hurt that neither of us was prepared to deal with at the moment.
Should I let him think I have a different problem to mask the one I have? At least until I figured out how to deal with it.
My stomach churned, and as much as it would probably make my life easier in the short term, I knew Tony well enough to know that it wouldn't stop there.
He'd just keep asking, watching, and he'd find out I was lying.
I shook my head.
"Sorry," I said quietly, my voice filled with remorse. "I'm not taking anything, I promise. But I... I've been dealing with everything the best way I know how. Maybe I haven't been handling it well, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I'll take better care of myself, I promise."
Tony looked hurt. I couldn't tell if that was because he knew I was hiding something or that he didn't believe me. Then, he nodded.
"I just want things to go back to the way they were, Matt. I want us to be a family again."
I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. "I want that too, Tony. We'll figure this out, together."
"So tell me, why you don't want to go back? Ever? Not just for now."
I took a deep breath and met his gaze in the mirror. "Do you remember how mom died?"
He frowned. "What does that have to do with this?"
"Everything."
He shook his head. "I don't. I just remember being told she was dead."
I nodded. The shadow swinging in the light flitted through my mind.
I love you more than anything.
"That day that I was getting us clothing while you were in the hospital... I had an episode."
"An episode?"
"A flashback, or something like it," I said. "It was brutal. I almost crashed my car a couple of times as I was leaving. I was... triggered by something in the house. I'd rather not experience that again."
My lips twitched. "Part of the reason I haven't been... sleeping as much as I should is because of that... I was there when she died."
The slow-moving shadow went through my mind again and little flickers of light. I pushed the hazy memory away as my head started to pound.
It was a little lie, just a small one that he had no way of knowing was a lie or not. I turned back and clapped him on the shoulder.
"That and Oren is an asshole, and the rest of them deserve what they get."
His lips twitched. "That's all?"
"That's all," I said. "I don't think I need much else, hm?"
Tony's lips twitched. "You promise you'll take better care of yourself."
"Of course. You need the brains of the operation to function."
Tony laughed and slung his arm around my shoulders putting me in a light headlock.
"Brains of the operation, huh?"
"Of course. You're the one with a surprise kid."
He laughed and released me. We headed into the living room.
"We're going to be okay, right?" Tony asked.
"Yeah."
But as I spoke those words, a part of me wondered if it was even possible. The divide between us had grown, and I wasn't sure if we could bridge the gap. I didn't know what would happen if I told Tony the truth, if he'd believe me, or if it would just push us further apart. All I could do was hope that time would make it easier to tell him.
"What are you going to be doing?"
"Rebuilding a business."
I scoffed. "OF course you get hired for a job you've already done."
"I told him that I wanted to acquire Chance Industries eventually. He seemed... supportive."
I grinned. "Well, I'm sure Oren's pissed off a lot of people in his day. Not surprising. Maybe you should call David and Peter. Really get his gears grinding."
"Not in this lifetime."
The oven chimed.
"It's going to burn!" Quillan cried.
I headed to the kitchen. "No, it won't."
Quillan sat up against the back of the couch looking up at me as I passed.
"Mommy always forgot to turn off the oven, so every time it chimed I had to scream it."
I laughed and grabbed an oven mitt. "You had a very important job, keeping the food from burning."
I pulled out the tray of lasagna, and Tony came in.
"Another recipe from mom?"
I nodded, thinking back. "She... made a lot of pasta."
"I'd kill for a steak."
"I'll put some on," I said.
Quillan wandered in a little sheepishly. His young face lit up with a spark of hope.
"Are we going to see Mommy tonight after dinner?"
Tony's lips twitched before he crouched down to his level and ruffled his hair.
"I think we can manage that."
His whole face lit up. "Really?"
Tony nodded. "Yeah."