Author: Kristbethke

Everything hurt.  I had pain in places I didn’t even remember I had.  Sitting on the hospital bed, I could barely move without feeling a twinge of ache.  They’d given me some Vicodin, but it obviously hadn’t fully kicked in yet.  Or if it had, I needed some stronger shit.  Where was the good stuff?  Why wasn’t I on a morphine drip?  I had broken bones, lacerations, some surface burns, bruising, and a mild concussion.  Shouldn’t that warrant the use of heavy narcotics?

The curtain partition that separated my bed from the rest of the ER whipped back.  I looked up, and I couldn’t help the grin that stretched my face.  It even hurt to smile.  But my boyfriend was standing there, and just seeing him made me feel ten times better.  Sam and I had been together for three years, co-habitating for the last eighteen months, and he was it for me.  The love of my life.  The fact that he was here made all the aches and pains recede a little further.  Or maybe the Vicodin was finally doing it’s job.

“I’m okay,” I said soothingly, because he looked about ready to fall apart.  “It looks worse than it is.”

He nodded fast, and whispered, “Looks pretty bad.”

“I know, but it’s not.”  I held out the hand that wasn’t currently in a splint and waiting for a cast.  He practically ran to the side of the bed, taking my hand, and squeezing it tight.  His pretty blue eyes filled with tears, and his gaze roamed over my face and body, cataloging my injuries.

“You’re so lucky,” he whispered, and his voice hitched.  “If someone hadn’t seen the accident, if you’d been left out there–” His words left him and he made a little choking noise.

My right side was fairly uninjured.  The other car had t-boned mine, slamming into the driver’s side, but a little bit behind where my seat was.  My left wrist and hand were broken, and I had deep cut on my left thigh that had required fifteen stitches, but the right side was just banged up.  I grimaced as I slid over a few inches to make room for Sam to climb up on the right side of the bed.  He didn’t hesitate to do so, though he was careful of how he touched me.  I put my arm around his shoulders, and he laid his head ever so gently on my shoulder.

“But they did and I’m okay.  I’ll be healed in no time.  Before you know it, I’ll be able to bend you over the bed and fuck your tight ass.”  I was trying for levity, but I didn’t quite manage it.

Sam’s head jerked up, and he scowled at me.  “Not funny.  You could have died, Nathan!”

I knew I was in trouble by his use of my full name.  I made a soothing noise.  “I know, but I didn’t. I really am going to be okay,” I said softly, then leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead.  His eyes slid closed for a minute, before snapping open again.

“We have to sign papers,” he said urgently.

I blinked. I didn’t quite follow his sudden topic shift.  I blamed it on the concussion.  “What papers?”

“Papers that say that I’m your emergency contact and that I can make health decision for you.  And vice versa,” he said.  I continued to stare at him, not exactly understanding, and his eyes filled with tears again.  “We aren’t married.  We can’t get married here and even if we got married somewhere else, this state doesn’t recognize it.  I almost couldn’t back here to see you.  They tried to stop me.  But one of the nurses told them you called me, that you wanted me.  If you’d been unconscious, I would’t have even known and I couldn’t have gotten back here and–”

“Okay,” I cut him off because he was getting worked up.  I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before.  Our lives were as entwined as they could be; I should have thought of that earlier.  We should have already had that in place.  “We’ll take care of that as soon as I get out of here, all right?”

He nodded, his body relaxing a fraction.  “When are you getting out of here?”

“I’m not sure.  I’m waiting for a cast on the wrist.  A few more hours at least.  Or maybe sometime next week with how fast they’re moving around here.”

Sam managed a weak chuckle, then let out a heavy sigh.  “I was so scared.  I love you, Nate.”

“I love you too, babe.”

“And we’ll sign papers?” he checked, glancing up at me.

“We’ll sign papers,” I confirmed.

He nodded.  He leaned a little more heavily against me knowing that, even bruised and battered, I could still take his weight. We settled back against the bed, prepared to wait however long it took until we could go home.  Together.

“I said I’m not going!” He yelled

I stayed calm. “And I said I don’t care. You’re going.”

Rage filled his features and his gaze cast about, looking for something to throw. But I’d herded him into the sunroom on purpose. There was nothing in here for him to get his hands on. He wasn’t strong enough to pick up the heavy wicker furniture and he’d never touch the plants. They were his passion.

“I’m a grown man and you can’t tell me what to do!”

Ah. So it was going to be one of those arguments. “Yeah, you are and I can’t,” I agreed. “But this is different. Date night is sacred. We go out, we reconnect and make time for us. We have a deal.”

He opened his mouth but I cut him off before anymore anger could spill out. “You’re drifting. I can feel it. And I won’t let you. Not after six years. I love you.”

The magic words. He crumpled, and sat heavily on the edge of a nearby chaise. Slowly, I closed the distance between us and sat next to him. I didn’t say a word, just let him feel my bigger body and my warmth. Suddenly, he turned and launched himself into my arms. I gathered him in, and held him tightly, like I knew he liked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice muffled by the skin of my neck.

“I know,” I whispered back. He didn’t handle disappointment well, and he’d been dealt a big one. He was prone to hysterics. I didn’t mind. I’d manage him if he needed me to.

He took a deep breath, and then pulled back so he could see my eyes. “I’m not really up to going out tonight. Instead, can we order from that Italian place we like and talk and then maybe watch a movie and go to bed?”

Sounded like a good compromise to me. I stood, and offered him my hand. “Sure.”

He took it and I pulled him up. When he started to tug me toward the door, I resisted. “You know, you could have just said that.”

His laugh was weak, by he rolled his eyes so I knew he was feeling better. “Yeah but then I wouldn’t be me.”

I grinned and followed him willingly. He was right. And that was fine. Because I loved him.

The sound of a diesel engine still made me catch my breath.  Even though it had been two years since I had heard that  truck pull into my drive, every time I heard that particular sound of an idling  engine, my heart gave a painful thump.  I knew I’d never see that truck, or it’s driver, again.  But it still effected me.

We’d been together for six months.  Secretly, but that was okay.  Given his career, he couldn’t be out.  DADT hadn’t been repealed yet then.  So we maintained the friend facade in public and hid behind closed doors.  I accepted it.  It was worth it to be with him.

When he’d gotten his deployment orders, his stoic face had fallen into place.  We talked for a long while about what that would mean for us.  In the end, it was better for us both to walk away.  I hated every minute of it, but I respected the untenable position he was in.  I’d worried constantly over the last two years, knowing he was in combat in a war zone.  And hoped I didn’t hear the worst news possible.  Trying to put him out of my heart and mind was impossible.  But he’d made it clear before he left; we were over even though he cared for me a great deal.  I had to accept that.  And I was getting better at letting go everyday.

That didn’t mean the sound of that engine didn’t still twist my gut as I remembered the last time I’d heard it pull away from the house.  Hearing it this close again was almost unbearable.  I wouldn’t let myself look out the front window, just to see some other truck on the street, waiting for some other person.

The sound of the engine abruptly ceased.  I heard the door snap shut.  I forced myself to breathe evenly, and relax.  But then there was familiar sound of boots on the wooden porch.  A moment later, a distinctive rap on the door.  I sprang up and ran, not caring I’d knocked my glass to the floor and spilled water everywhere.  I yanked open the door.

There he stood, looking skinny and haggard, but smiling.  He was wearing his utility uniform, and I gasped as he pulled off his cover and aviator sunglasses.  There were lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before.  But the familiar close cropped hair and mischievous tilt of his head still made my blood race.  He was as handsome as ever.  And I was just so damn happy to see him, alive and whole and smiling.  Tears filled my eyes.

The lance corporal was home.