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    Caz Pedroso
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Buried Treasure - 2. Part 2

I wheeled Craig out of the hospital the next afternoon and I was very glad that I still had my modified car from when my mom was in a wheelchair. He had one leg in a cast and it stuck out in front of him on a rest, his other ankle was also in a cast. In addition, his hands had bandages on them from cuts, which meant he couldn’t use them for a few days till they’d healed enough. Other parts of him had bandages and sticky plasters on them and he was dosed up high on painkillers so he could be moved without hurting him too much.

I mentally went through the list of instructions the nurse had given me. After caring for my mom recently the list was not that much different, but this was my best friend – and the object of most of my sexual fantasies – helping him to wash, go to the toilet and basically take total care of him was going to be a challenge to my self-control, both physical and mental.

Craig was only a low level psychic. He could sense strong emotion though, that meant keeping my mental shields up at all times and that was going to be exhausting.

***

We arrived back at my house and I wheeled him into his bedroom. After getting him on the bed I helped him to strip, taking great pains to not meet his eyes or look anywhere inappropriate. Once I had him down to his boxers I went to cover him with the blankets. Suddenly he touched my arm and I jerked away sharply, looking up to see a smirk on his face.

“Jumpy much?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry,” I offered a small smile, “I was miles away.”

“I was trying to tell you that I need to pee before you can tuck me in,” he said blushing and it made me blush too when I remembered I would have to help him.

“Of course, let me find the urinal bottle the hospital gave us.”

I hurried to the living room and found the hospital bag. I found the bottle then I returned to the bedroom and helped a very red Craig to get himself free of his boxers. I then held the bottle till he said he was done. I tucked him back into his underwear and then pulled the blankets up to his chin. I pointed out a bell I had left on the bedside table so he could call me when he needed help.

He was asleep before I left the room to go and start dinner.

***

I was dreaming that I was on my dream date – starring Craig of course – when I was woken by the sound of crying.

It took a moment for me to realize what I was hearing before I bolted out off the couch where I’d fallen asleep and into Craig’s room.

Craig was thrashing around in the bed, his arms were hitting out at something only he could see and he was crying out, “get me out, please get me out… Jaydon, please, I need you where are you?”

As soon as I heard my name I rushed to him and tried to gently pin his arms, “Craig, wake up,” I called firmly, trying to wake him up. Slowly he stopped struggling and opened his eyes.

“Hi, there” I said, smiling and sitting on the edge of the bed to wait for him wake up fully.

He smiled when he saw me and then to my surprise grabbed my hand between both his bandaged ones.

“You’re here,” he said, his voice a bit raspy from calling out.

I reached with my free hand for a cup of water that had a straw in it on the bedside table. After he had taken a few sips I replaced it, “I will always be here for you.” I dropped my mental shields a little so he could feel my sincerity and he seemed to relax.

“Stay here with me? I feel safe when you’re near.” He was already near sleep again.

Unable to refuse I laid down next to him, making sure I was not hurting him. He kept a firm grip on my hand and seemed to settle back to sleep quickly.

I followed a little while later thinking that this was not the way I had wanted to get Craig into bed with me, but I would take what I could get.

***

The next few days and nights followed the same routine. I had called into work and told them I would only be available for emergency cases. One of the perks of being a senior psychic in the security department meant I had some leeway in my hours and a lot of my computer work could be done from home. I worked while Craig slept and when he was awake I made sure he was clean, fed and took his pain pills. When he was more alert, I set up a TV in his room. We sat on his bed watching silly DVD’s and reminiscing about the trouble we used to get into when we were younger.

***

Finally after a week the bandages came off his hands, we were both glad that he could now feed himself and use the bottle by himself. It also meant that if I lifted him into the wheelchair, he could wheel slowly around the house.

***

One morning we were sitting in the living room getting ready to watch a DVD on my big screen, when my cellphone went off.

Seeing it was work I answered quickly, “Locke.”

“Jaydon, it’s Lesley. We have a missing little girl who was last seen going into a derelict building on the edge of town. The other psychics can’t sense her and we’re worried she’s unconscious. I’m texting you the address, get there quickly!”

strong>Comments always welcome. To see other Wednesday Briefs visit the Website
Prompts Used - "Jumpy much?" + "You don't know what your talking about."
Copyright © 2015 Caz Pedroso; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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