Permanently Yours

“You’re going to be sooo useful with that hand,” Sam scoffed, glaring at the fifty some odd stitches on almost either side of my right palm.

“Thanks for your concern, Sam,” I laughed, sitting down on the couch with him. It was good to be back home after tour. Not that I didn’t like tour, but I missed my bed very much, and my hands needed a break.

It happened on the last day of tour, which turned into an off day for us because of my hand. We went to some indoor skate park with the other band guys for fun. I was riding a bike up the biggest ramp so I could flip into the pit of foam cubes, but somehow when I and my bike went up into the air, my hand got caught or something in the chain of the bike and the rest is painful history.

"Aren't you supposed to keep that wrapped up?" Ben asked worriedly. He was sweet to me from day one. Ben was the one that convinced Sam to let me live with them. Sam wasn't too into me at first because he thought I was just some kitten when we met, but then he saw how well I could play bass guitar. It was nice that we could live together as a band. We all helped with the bills and rent. That, and they kind of made me their slave. Ok, well, not slave, but cook.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," I lied, waving my hand around. But even that hurt.

"I don't trust you making our food anymore," Sam sighed, grabbing the phone and calling Papa John's.

"Let me see your hand," Ben muttered, kneeling before me with the first aid kit in his hand. I held out my good hand to him, but he just rolled his eyes at me and grabbed my bad hand. He wrapped up my stitches in gauze and taped it closed with some first aid tape.

"Thanks," I sighed as Ben sat down on the couch, too. I picked his arm up so I could drape it around me and snuggle into his broad chest. Sam actually got up and went to the piano after he finished ordering the pizza. "Sam, could you please play Caves?"

He sighed, but obliged. He knew how much I loved that song. "Want a shot?" Sam asked when he finished playing it, feeling my forehead. I shook my head, pushing his hand off. Sam sighed. "Grey, you don't have to act all tough all the time. Ben, get the Jack."

"I'm not acting tough, I am tough!" I argued as Ben grabbed the bottle of whiskey. They solved everything with alcohol. I don't know why, but I didn't like to.

"Drink up, goose," Ben laughed as he called me by my nickname, handing me the bottle. I frowned, but he just shoved it into my hand. I reluctantly put my lips to the bottle and drank some. Just a little had me choking. It tasted like tar to me.

"Feeling better?" Sam asked with a laugh when I slumped into the couch after a few minutes. They let me get tipsy, but never wasted. "We'll wake you up in a bit. We're going to watch a show tonight."

"What? A show tonight? Who’s playing, Sam?"

"Augustana and some other bands," Ben said with a shrug, putting up the bottle of Jack. Augustana was one of the few bands Sam liked. He liked them because they played piano, like us.

"Cool," I yawned, quickly nodding off into sleep. I really couldn’t handle my liquor yet.

I hated them both when we first met, actually. I'd never seen a pair of siblings like them. They were fraternal twins, but Sam was older by a few minutes and he never let Ben forget it. They were just so brotherly and actually nice to each other. They worked like a team. There was never competition between them, but Ben took Sam's lead most of the time.

It was so weird to see that. And I was jealous of that - how close they were...

I never had that with my brother.