“Kimberly,” Brian called, seeing the first familiar face. “Andrew Fitzroy was brought in. Where is he?”
“Bed twelve. Do you . . .” she trailed off because he was already gone, sprinting towards the far end of the department, dodging staff and patients and trolleys of equipment.
About to throw himself into bay twelve, something solid wrapped around his waist and physically hauled him off the ground and swung him around.
“You can’t go in there,” Michael said calmly.
Brian struggled. “I have to see him. Please.”
His heart was hammering wildly and tears blurred his vision. There was so much noise in his head he barely heard Michael. All he could hear was the descriptions of every trauma case he’d been a part of in this very department. Severed arteries, spinal injuries, internal bleeding, crushed limbs. So many possibilities crowding his thoughts and all of them killing him each time he imagined it was Andrew.
“You’re not going to do him any good.” Michael’s accent was thick as he wrestled Brian backwards. “He’s being looked after by the best, you know that. You’ll only get in the way. Come on. Sean, little help.”
More hands grabbed Brian and pulled him away from Andrew. He fought but they were too strong, or he was too scared to really try to get free and see his worst thoughts made real. Either way, he ended up in a treatment room across the way and forced into a chair. Michael crouched in front of him.
“You have to settle down. You won’t get to see him at all if you don’t.”
Brian nodded. He knew all this but it felt good, grounding, to hear it from someone he trusted. “What happened?”
“I don’t know the details but the paramedics said he’d been coward punched.”
Brian was going to throw up. He doubled over, retching. One-punch attacks could kill or seriously injure the victim. There could be brain damage or spinal injuries. Skull fractures and swelling of the brain. Definitely a concussion. He hated being a doctor in that moment. Something he’d never felt before. His vision swam even more and there was a dull ringing in his ears.
“Here’s a barf bag.” Sean pressed the plastic bag into Brian’s hands. He rubbed up and down his spine. “Breathe, ladybug. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.”
Brian focused on Sean’s voice, inhaling and exhaling when he said. Slowly the ringing faded and the bright sparks before his eyes disappeared.
“There we go,” Sean murmured, still running his hand over his back.
Sitting up, Brian looked around. “Where’s Michael?”
“He went back to see what’s happening. He’ll be back.”
Kimberly stuck her head into the room. “Brian, there’s a woman called Terri here. Said she’s after the same person you were asking about.”
“Bring her in,” he whispered. Hopefully she would have some answers.
Terri came in a minute later, pale and shaking. Brian was up and in her arms almost instantly. He didn’t know her terribly well but she was a familiar face and someone who knew and cared about Andrew too.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” Her voice was quiet and rough, like she’d been shouting a lot. “I should have done something more. It’s my fault.”
She was trembling more than Brian was, so he guided her to the seat. Sean dragged another one over and Brian sat again.
“I’m going to get you guys some water,” Sean said. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”
Once he’d gone, Brian took Terri’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t hit him.” She was some sort of kickboxing champ. Please, god, don’t let her have been the one, for any reason.
“No, but I kept him there. I was talking to him when Sam showed up. If I hadn’t done that, Andrew would have been gone before he got there.” She ran her hands through her dark, dishevelled hair. “I should have known Sam would do something stupid.”
Brian shook his head. “Nothing’s your fault. If this Sam hit him, he’s the only one to blame.” Distantly, he remembered the name. “Is he the one who said those things about Andrew and Vaughn Sheridan?”
She nodded. “He’s losing his job because of it. He blames Andrew. I hit him, though. I just saw Andrew go down and I turned and punched without thought.”
Andrew was against violence, believing it didn’t solve anything for long, and Brian admired that about him. But he felt a sting of dark satisfaction at the thought of the person who’d hurt Andrew getting some payback.
“He’s okay, sadly,” Terri admitted. “The police arrested him for assault. There were quite a few witnesses.”
Sean came back with bottles of water and Brian was drinking when Michael returned.
“He’s still unconscious,” he reported gravely. “That’s not a good sign. They’re going to take him for a CT scan in a minute. Brian, you can see him if you promise to be calm.”
Of course he promised, and he did his best to keep it as Michael walked him to where Andrew was. They slipped inside the closed curtains and Brian stalled. Andrew was lying in the bed, pale and absolutely still. He was hooked up to a heartrate monitor and a drip, and there was a bandage around his head. Blood had been cleaned off his face, but there were still dried crusts in his left ear and hair.
“He got a two-inch laceration on his scalp from hitting the ground,” Michael said softly. “It’s not that bad.”
“He hasn’t come to at all?”
“Not yet. It’s been forty-five minutes.”
Brian’s knees collapsed and Michael caught him. Instead of taking him away, he steered Brian to Andrew’s side and then stepped out to give them privacy.
“Andrew, it’s me.” Brian brushed his fingers over the back of Andrew’s hand. “Hey, come on, beautiful. It’s time to wake up. For me, please. Just open your eyes, just a little bit.”
He’d always wondered why people insisted on asking unconscious people to wake up for them. The patient was only going to come around when their body allowed it. But this wasn’t a patient. It was Andrew. His beautiful, peaceful Andrew. Brian couldn’t be a doctor right now.
“Remember how I told you that you’re not allowed to scare me again? This is the sort of shit I was talking about. I’ll make a bargain with you, beautiful,” he whispered. “If you open your eyes, even just a tiny little bit, I’ll tell you just how much I love you.”
Brian waited, knowing Michael would come back in to take him out so they could get Andrew to radiology, but he didn’t take his gaze off his man.
Andrew’s eyes rolled under his closed lids.
“I’ll take it,” Brian gasped and leaned over, kissing his cheek. “I love you so much. You’re my constant and I don’t think I can go on without you.”
A hand touched his shoulder and Brian straightened. Michael slipped his arm around him and guided him back out. “We’ll know more once the scan is done. Is there anyone you want me to call? His family? Your friends?”
“I can do it.”
“Okay. I’ve still got to work, but I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
Brian let Terri know he was going to make some calls and went outside. He spoke to Andrew’s dad first and left him making plans to fly up from Adelaide as soon he and his wife could. Then Simone, who didn’t answer, but he left a message for her to call back when she could. More wrecked than he thought he would be by then, Brian hit Elle’s number and hoped she was willing to talk to him.
“Hey, Brian,” she answered warmly. “I’m so happy you called. I’m actually on—”
“Andrew’s hurt.” That was all he managed before he collapsed into tears. He was vaguely aware of Elle demanding details and where Andrew was. He must have got some answer out because the next thing he knew, she was right in front of him and he threw himself into her arms.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “I was right in the carpark. I’d come to talk to you. I thought you wouldn’t be able to run away from me here. Oh god, is he okay?”
�
��I don’t know. He hasn’t woken up yet. Elle, he might not wake up.”
Terri found them as Elle was trying to get more information out of Brian. Andrew’s friend told Elle what she knew and they got Brian back to the treatment room he’d been in before.
“I have to go,” Terri said raggedly. “My family’s expecting me. Call me when you know something. Time doesn’t matter.”
Elle got her number and put it in her phone and then she wrapped herself around Brian and they waited together.
After what felt like forever in a void, Michael finally came back with another doctor Brian sort of recognised.
“This is Dr. Chandra, Andrew’s neurologist.”
The Indian woman smiled and it instantly eased some of Brian’s anxiety. “It’s good news. Andrew hasn’t suffered too badly. There’s no swelling and no depressed fracture of his skull. He does have some bruising where he impacted the ground, but there doesn’t appear to be any damage to his brain stem. All in all, the prognosis is good. We’re just waiting for him to wake up now. He’s being admitted into ICU. Once he’s settled in, you’ll be able to see him.”
Michael and Dr. Chandra left and Brian sagged back into Elle’s arms. “It is good news.”
“Why isn’t he waking up though?” Elle asked quietly.
Brian shrugged. “Could be lots of reasons. It’s mostly up to Andrew now.”
While Andrew was transferred to the intensive care unit, Elle called Carly and reported that the twins would be there as quickly as they could be. “I want to call James. He’d want to know. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
It wasn’t even a consideration. “Call him. Andrew needs us all.”
Brian and Elle had relocated to the family lounge outside ICU when Carly and Troy arrived. Carly flew at him, dry eyed but shaking. Troy held back until Brian held a hand out to him, then the other man was hugging him and Carly both.
“What happened?” Troy asked, stroking his sister’s hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Elle just said he’d been hit by a bloke at work.”
“Can we wait until James is here? I don’t have the strength to tell it twice.”
They didn’t have to wait long. James appeared at the door to the small room, hesitant and wary. His eyes were wet, though. Elle stood and just gravitated towards him, like they were magnetised. His arms went around her and the tears fell.
“I can’t believe it. I was just talking to him like two hours ago . . .” He reached out and gripped Brian’s hand tightly. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Come and sit,” Brian said. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
Brian told him and the twins what he knew and once again, it was a waiting game. Andrew’s parents called to give Brian their flight number and arrival time, early the following morning. James took the information and said he would pick them up so Brian could stay with Andrew. Carly and Troy found vending machines and brought them drinks and snacks. Michael came up after his shift to offer his help with anything. He told Brian he’d put him down as Andrew’s partner, so he could go in and see him in ICU. Brian had done his rotation in ICU long enough ago the faces were only occasionally familiar, but they were all incredibly kind and considerate whenever he went and sat with Andrew.
Coming back from a short visit with Andrew, Brian found Troy in the corridor outside the family lounge.
“Anything?” Troy asked hopefully, then sagged against the wall when Brian shook his head. “It’s not good is it? Him not waking up.”
“It’s not great, no.” The sheer sadness in Troy’s whole body tugged at Brian. He was tired and emotionally wrung out, but the doctor in him wouldn’t rest it seemed. “Hey, his physical prognosis is good. Nothing much worse than the cut on his head and a concussion. He’s strong, he’ll pull through.”
Troy nodded, then peered at him from under the sagging sweep of hair over his forehead. “I’m really sorry about what happened at paintball. James shouldn’t have said what he did, and I shouldn’t have left it the way I did. Your sexuality is your business, no one else’s and, shit, it shouldn’t be a thing that needs to be discussed, you know? No one has to come out as hetero. It’s a stupid double standard.”
“Yeah, it is. Thanks for saying that.” Brian’s next words were out without him having to think about it. “But you’re kind of wrong. About it not being anyone else’s business. I’m bisexual and I want you all to know that because when Andrew’s awake and okay, we’re not going to hide our relationship anymore.”
Troy straightened and for a moment, Brian thought he was getting ready to run again. Then Troy smiled and stepped up for a bro-hug. “Thanks for telling me.”
They went back to the lounge and Brian calmly came out to the rest of his friends. He was hugged and kissed and James held on so long Brian started to give up hope of ever being free again.
It was when he was coming back from the toilet that James caught him alone.
“I spoke to Andrew this morning,” he said softly. “He set me straight on a few things and I’m sorry for everything I’ve said for, oh, about the past two months.”
Brian frowned. “Andrew told you off for being a jerk? Not Elle or anyone else?”
James’s laugh was short and rough. “Yeah. Caught me off guard. He’s not usually that direct.”
An image of Zach Greene tumbling over backwards on the oval flashed across Brian’s vision. “He can be.” There was pride in his words.
“Apparently. Anyway, he accepted my apology and we were . . . are all good.” Taking a deep breath, James said, “Brian, I’m sorry for how I reacted at the bach party. You guys are my brothers in every way that matters. I just want you to be happy.”
Already tender and exhausted, Brian just gave him a hug. “Feel better?”
“Dunno. You’re kinda holding on so tight no blood’s getting to my brain,” James muttered, but his tone was relieved.
“Fine.” Brian let him go. “Not that adequate blood flow usually helps your thinking process.”
“Guess not. Can you forgive me?”
Brian made him wait a few seconds, then said, “Nah . . . yeah.”
James punched his shoulder lightly and then dragged him back to the waiting room.
It was just after midnight and Brian was curled up on a couch, watching over his sleeping friends, when the intensivist came to get him.
“Andrew’s awake. He doesn’t remember the assault, though. We’ve told him what happened, but he’s just asking for you.”
Andrew appeared asleep when Brian was led into his room in the unit. The nurse at her station whispered, “He’s waiting for you.”
The chair Brian had been using was still next to the bed, so he sank into it and touched Andrew’s hand. Pale eyelids fluttered and then opened. He looked dazed and groggy still, like he’d been woken rudely from the deepest of sleeps.
“Hey,” Brian said softly. “Look who woke up.” He leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy to see those beautiful brown eyes.”
Andrew frowned. “Who are you?”
Brian’s heart stuttered, then he saw the corner of Andrew’s mouth turn up slightly. “Oh you fuu . . . fire truck.” He almost cried in relief. “I told you not to scare me anymore.”
“Couldn’t resist.” His words were a bit slurred. “Don’t remember what happened.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to.” Brian lifted Andrew’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “You just have to get better for me. I’ve got big plans for you.”
“Yeah? Do they require walking, cause I can’t feel my feet.”
“What?” Brian turned to look at the end of the bed, where the peaks in the sheet over Andrew’s feet were twitching. Beyond them, the nurse was shaking her head wearily. “What did I just say about scaring me?” he demanded even as his voice cracked on a laugh. There couldn’t be too much wrong if Andrew was joking.
“Keep doing it?”
Brian shook his head much as the nurse had. �
��You’re lucky I love you so fire trucking much.”
Andrew blinked at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m afraid, Andrew Fitzroy, that you’re stuck with me.”
“Good. My cunning plan to get you back worked.”
Brian laughed softly. “If this is what you do to get me back, consider me yours for life.”
Andrew’s smile was tired but glorious. “Same. I don’t wanna do this again. My head hurts.”
“If you expect me to take care of you again . . .” Brian kissed his lips tenderly. “I always will.”
Six weeks later
“Tell me again,” Andrew said, then kissed his way down Brian’s curved spine. “I’ve forgotten.”
Brian, belly down on their bed, buck naked and little more than a puddle, moaned. “I’m not falling for that anymore. Find new material.”
It had started as a joke to make light of bad news. Andrew’s official complaint against Vaughn Sheridan had been dismissed in the wake of his injury. McGregor Construction’s lawyer had advised that Andrew’s concussion would be used to discredit his memory of the event. They could try, but the chances of making any headway were incredibly slim, so Andrew had pulled out.
Brian had been incensed so Andrew had joked about it. When that had worked a little bit, Andrew had gone sexy with it and now it was a thing.
Andrew laughed and tickled his tongue into the sweet dimples at the top of Brian’s arse. “But what if I really have forgotten? You’re going to feel terrible. I’m just doing this for your own good.”
“So now you’re using emotional blackmail. That’s unfa—ow!”
Andrew looked at the quickly fading teeth marks he’d left in Brian’s left buttock. He hadn’t bitten that hard, Brian just liked being a brat. Andrew liked Brian being a brat too. Soothing over the site with his tongue, he ran his hands down the thighs spread to either side of his knees. Brian sighed and the tension from the bite flowed out of him.
Over the past couple of weeks, Brian had been prepping Andrew to bottom, which he was enjoying immensely. Brian had brought Andrew to a shattering orgasm already that morning, just with his hands. One around his cock, fingers from the other buried deep inside him, stroking and stretching and thrusting. Even now he could still feel the sensation of Brian’s fingers working in him and ached for the loss of how they’d felt. But he wanted this—lavishing Brian with pleasure and love—just as much. Watching Brian melt for him, because of him, was the most amazing thing in the world. It also didn’t hurt that it was rapidly making him hard again.
The New Normal Page 26
