Chapter 130: Taran

We drive to Bishop's office together in the jeep, neither of us speaking. Diogo drives ridiculously slow, to the point that I almost think he wants me to break my vow of silence and berate him into driving faster so we can actually get to the appointment on time. But he's not trying to get to me, he's taking extreme caution with Blaze's safety. Our son is cradled in my arms as we drive and could be easily hurt if Diogo were to hit something. Though he'd scoured the city for child safety seats, he'd come up empty-handed. So few people drive, that there's just no reason to keep them around.
When we finally arrive, I reach for the door, eager to get inside, but Diogo says, "Don't move." His voice is hard and implacable. I can feel him reaching the end of his patience with me. Actually I'm pretty impressed with his patience so far. Or I would be if I wasn't so furiously angry at him.
I could've handled it if he'd had Xavier executed through the proper channels. I wouldn't have been happy, I would've tried to argue Diogo out of doing it. I'd have been angry, but ultimately I would have understood. Xavier was planning a coup, he was leading the rebels into extreme behaviour that put the entire city at risk.
No, I'm angry that my husband lied to me, especially after telling me many times that he does not lie. He told me Xavier died in the desert. For weeks after he told me about Xavier's death, for months even, I'd had nightmares about Xavier's violent murder at the hands of the Primitives. Nightmares about predators picking away at his flesh until he was nothing but a pile of bones. No, forgiving Diogo for that lie feels impossible. I've come to the conclusion that I'd much rather a brutal dictator for a husband than a deceitful, back-stabbing liar.
He opens the door for me and takes my hand as I stand with Blaze. I pull my hand away as quick as I can and step away from the car, away from Diogo. His anger beats at me, like a wave of heat. Well two can play that game, I turn and glare back at him. He takes my arm in a tight hold and pulls me up the steps to the clinic.
When we enter, we're immediately greeted by Dee, who jumps up from behind her desk and rushes around with her arms held out. I laugh and give her what she wants; Blaze. She's made it abundantly clear that her number one priority is always going to be the baby if there's one in her vicinity. She holds him against her chest and coos at him.
"Who's a good little baby Warlord!" She grins down at Blaze and rocks him in her arms, dancing from one foot to the other. Diogo stares at her like she's grown an extra head and I'm hard-pressed not to giggle at the whole scene.
Dee looks up at me with a smile. "Follow me."
I walk with her into the back offices, ignoring Diogo who trails behind. This is his first doctor's appointment since the baby was born. He's usually working hard at this time of day, ensuring a safe and stable Sanctuary. Despite my annoyance over his whopping lie, I can't blame him for trying to create a better city for our child.
We pass by Christian, the historian, on our way to the back office. He looks up and nods guardedly when he catches sight of the Warlord. I smile sunnily and pat his shoulder on my way by. From what I've seen in my visits to the doctor, he's thawed considerably, unable to hold up a coolly professional distance with the friendly Doctor Bishop. Now, he seems to enjoy his work and enjoy his time spent in the small clinic.
Bishop looks up as we enter his domain and gives me a genuinely warm smile. He stands carefully, his joints stiff with age and fatigue. I worry about how thin he stretches himself, between catering to the elites, making contacts within the slums and attending to the refugees in Old Tucson. He's not a young man, he shouldn't be working as hard as he does.
Bishop pulls me in for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. He smiles broadly past me and greets Diogo. "Ah, Commander, it's good to see you. Your son is quite a strong little man, you should be proud of his progress."
Again, I almost laugh out loud as I feel Diogo's discomfort. A practical man, he probably doesn't see how he should be proud of an infant not yet able to lift its own head. Instead of pointing this out though, he says, "I'm proud of my wife. She gave birth to a strong son and she nurtures him so that he will grow stronger with each day."
Tears flood my eyes at the praise. Diogo is not one to hand out compliments, and when he does, they mean something. He is genuinely proud of me for carrying, birthing and caring for his son. I want to thank him and to return the favour and tell him that Blaze wouldn't be here if it weren't for Diogo's dogged determination to keep us both safe. But I stop short of speaking to him. He doesn't value human life, only mine, and now Blaze's. His attitude is unfair and dangerous.
Ignoring Diogo I smile at the Doctor. "He's doing so well now. He's sleeping more than I thought he would at this point, so I've been able to grab a little more sleep myself. He eats regularly but goes right back to sleep after. He doesn't cry a lot and isn't very fussy."
"You haven't been sleeping?" Diogo demands darkly.
I stare pointedly at the Doctor, ignoring Diogo, and continue speaking as if he weren't in the room. "He watches my face and he's making more sounds now, besides crying. He gurgles and coos. His lips twitch too, so I don't think it'll be long before he's smiling at me."
Bishop grins back. "It'll be a few weeks yet before he's ready to smile on his own." Bishop takes Blaze from Dee's arms and lays him on the exam table. "He's a strong little guy though, I don't doubt he'll be ahead of the curve."
Diogo grabs my arm before I can step toward the exam table. "You haven't been sleeping?"
I'd requested a bed put in the baby's room after the birth. In part to escape having to share a bed with Diogo, but also because it's just easier to be close when Blaze needs me. Newborns need to eat a lot, and they need to eat often. Though a good, fairly quiet baby, Blaze is no exception to the rule. During these past few weeks I've been on a regular rotation of waking every few hours to feed and change my new little man. Diogo wouldn't know because he's been in his own room, sleeping soundly and waking early to attend to his Warlord duties. Perhaps if I was still speaking to him I might've told him about nights with a baby.
I ignore the question and try to shake his hand from my arm to join Bishop at the exam table. Finally, fed up, Diogo growls, "Tell me, Taran, and don't think to leave out any details."
I stare up at him keeping my gaze frigid. I hate the idea of keeping even a moment of his son's life from him, but I won't budge on this issue. My Warlord husband made a major misstep when he killed Xavier and had the body disposed of. Just the thought makes me feel queasy. Xavier had been my husband and lover. Though we were very different people, and in the end, I'd lost a lot of respect for him, I didn't want him dead. And I especially didn't want him dead the way Diogo did it.
Sensing our standoff, Bishop decides to take pity on his Commander. Or perhaps, he doesn't want a bloodbath in his clinic, which tends to be the result when Diogo gets pissed off. "Babies get hungry and need feeding every few hours. Their bodies require a lot of high fat energy in order to maintain a rigorous growth schedule. Your son is no different. He's been keeping his mama here on her toes."
Diogo turns a dark glare my way. "You were struggling and you didn't feel that I should be informed. You didn't think I would help."
I sigh. Of course, I was struggling. Sleepless nights are the curse of every new parent. And, of course, I know Diogo would've helped. He may be a ruthless Warlord, but he's made it abundantly clear that his family will come first every time. The cauldron of emotions I'm feeling right now, particularly toward Diogo, prevent me from asking for help.
Instead of answering, I turn to Bishop, my hand on Blaze's waving fist. "Once you take the blood, how long before you know if he has the same immunity I do?"
"Ah, well, that's a complicated question. I still haven't determined what it is about you that makes you impervious to Necrotitis Primeval. What I really need is to examine your sister, compare samples, and try to figure out what causes this immunity." Bishop has mentioned this before, but it was never really a possibility. Now that Skye is within driving distance, bringing her into the city for an exam shouldn't be too much of an issue.
Before I can answer, Diogo says, "I'll have her delivered to the clinic within the next twenty-four hours."
I grit my teeth, annoyed at the way he discusses Skye as though she's a piece of furniture that needs delivering. I want to yell at him that this is part of his problem. He treats people like commodities, moving them about like pieces on a chessboard. My sister is as human as I am and should be respected.
Instead, I ignore Diogo's comment and say, "I'm sure she'll do it, but I think it would be best for me to talk to her first, maybe get her used to the idea of testing before we ambush her with a bunch of needles and questions."
"Good idea. Once she's ready, bring her on by," Bishop says, ignoring the undercurrents of tension running between me and Diogo. "With both of you as baselines for the immunity, I should be able to determine if Blaze has it too." Bishop looks past me toward Diogo. "It would help if you could find someone knowledgeable in medicine, especially the field of infectious diseases. There may be someone useful in the refugee camp."
"I'll send out some men to question the people in the camp. We should document skillsets, anyway, see if we have anyone that'll be more useful on this side of the wall."
I gasp and turn to Diogo, a retort about the cold calculating way he thinks of the people fleeing for their lives, leaving their homes behind. He lifts and eyebrow as if waiting for me explode at him. I realize he's purposely baiting me. Clever. I swallow the impulse to argue and give Bishop my full attention once more.
He finishes Blaze's exam, draws blood and asks me a few more questions about my own health. I answer truthfully, tell him that I've been feeling better and stronger with each passing day. As we're wrapping up the appointment, Diogo speaks.
"When can she have sex again?"
I gasp, feeling the redness creeping up my neck and flooding my face. If I wasn't super pissed at my husband before, this moment would be the deciding factor.
"Excuse me," I say coldly, reaching for Blaze and picking him up off the table.
As I walk through the door and into the reception area, I hear Bishop say, "Physically she should be completely healed within the next 2-4 weeks. Mentally, you should give her as much time as she needs."
"Forever," I mutter, my back to the men.
"What was that?" Dee asks, stretching her arms out for the baby.
"I was just saying," I shoot a nasty look over my shoulder. "That in my professional opinion, stupidity is not something a person gets over, and sex should definitely come off the table when stupidity is on it."
Dee chokes on her laughter. Even Diogo looks more amused than annoyed, despite my best attempt to rile him.
"Indeed," Bishop echoes. "There is no cure for stupid." Then his sharp eyes pin me. "Nor is there a cure for stubborn. The only thing that helps for both is understanding the other person's perspective."
"Not a chance," I reply quickly.
Diogo stares hard at me, then says, "You're wrong, Doctor. Stubborn can and will be cured within the next two to four weeks."