Here We Go Again

by Romeo Alexander

  Troy blinked, now more unnerved that Oscar had managed to read his mind. That little trick might have been cute and endearing when they were dating, but there was something incredibly unsettling about the idea that he was either that predictable, or Oscar had that good a sense of him.

  “What are you doing here?” Troy asked.

  “This is my temporary position.”

  “At the front desk?”

  “For General Winter, yeah.”

  “Where the hell is Christian?”

  “He had to take a call.”

  Troy’s head snapped back up. “Shit, is his sister okay?”

  “Uh, I don’t know?”

  Troy knew from having spoken with Christian before that his sister had fibromyalgia. It generally wasn’t a problem, but there had been a particularly bad moment where she had been weak and dazed from too many sleepless nights due to her pain, had fallen down a flight of stairs. She’d ultimately been alright, save for the broken wrist, but Troy knew Christian worried about her.

  “Did he sound worried when he left?”

  Oscar nodded toward the nearby door. “He’s been in there for about ten minutes, but he didn’t sound like he was upset.”

  Troy raised a brow. “Would you have even noticed if he was?”

  Oscar scowled. “I’m not that good with people, but I know someone who sounds upset and someone who doesn’t, okay?”

  Troy squirmed uncomfortably and resisted the urge to peek into the room to see what was happening.

  Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you even think about it.”

  “What?” Troy asked.

  “You keep your nose out of his business. He sounded fine.”

  “You aren’t the boss of me.”

  “Yeah, but I’m allowed to keep you out of any room you’re not allowed to be in,” Oscar told him smugly.

  Troy narrowed his eyes but couldn’t think of a proper witty comeback. The knowing smirk on Oscar’s face told him he knew it too, and Troy had to resist the urge to flick him on the forehead as he would have done in the old days.

  Troy sighed. “Well, how are you feeling?”

  Oscar blinked. “What?”

  “Has it been so long since someone wondered how you were that you’ve forgotten the meaning?”

  Oscar scowled. “Don’t be an ass.”

  Troy chuckled, unable to repress his amusement. “You can growl and stamp your feet all you want, but that’s not going to make me back down now any more than it did back then.”

  Oscar’s scowl held for a few seconds before dropping. The gruff man averted his eyes, looking toward his computer screen as it beeped at him.

  “General Winter says he can see you now.”

  Troy’s smile flickered, and he hated the feeling of disappointment that rose in his chest. “Can see me, but isn’t ready. The man is more stubborn about his health care than he is about making sure the rest of us get it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been told,” Oscar muttered.

  Troy pushed away from the desk and made his way toward General Winter’s office door. He hated the feeling that there was somehow a gulf between him and Oscar, even after all these years, but he hated his disappointment at that feeling even more. It was in the past, and it belonged in the past, and that tiny little hope and fear in his chest, born from the first moment he’d seen Oscar in six years, was stupid and unnecessary.

  Oscar cleared his throat, glancing at Troy as he passed. “Hope you’ve been doing okay.”

  Troy’s hand stopped on the door, resting there as he tried to think what to say. Instead of saying anything, he kept his silence and gave Oscar a warm smile. It hadn’t been an answer to Troy’s original question, but that was Oscar for you. Few people could get him to talk about himself in serious terms and those that could, walked away feeling like they’d tried to pull a tooth from a tiger.

  But it was something.

  5

  Troy

  He’d been having a pretty good night. Typically, he took Friday nights off, as Dean didn’t go out all that often, enjoying his free evenings on Saturday or even Sunday. It let Troy have a bit of fun unwinding after a long week, trolling the bars and seeing if there was someone cute enough to warrant sharing his bed, or theirs. After the very long week he’d had, he definitely needed to unwind.

  His night hadn’t been nearly as eventful as some in the past, but he was okay with that. In truth, he wasn’t sure he was really feeling the urge to take anyone home or go home with anyone else for that matter. Troy knew himself well enough to know that when it came down to it, he would happily jump at the opportunity to forget about his world and all its troubles with a bit of fun.

  Much to his annoyance, though, his mind couldn’t entirely stay away from Oscar. They’d left everything in the past, and Troy knew there was probably no chance of anything being reignited, but his heart wasn’t quite convinced. With thoughts of the man he’d once been head over heels for still on his mind, Troy had managed to have a few drinks and get in a few dances, but shortly after midnight, he was ready to go home.

  Troy stepped out onto the sidewalk, squeezing between the crowd of people trying to get in. It wasn’t what he would call cold outside, but the temperature was noticeably lower than it had been in the densely packed club. Troy took a deep breath, shoved his hands in his pockets, and made his way down the street.

  He’d just managed to turn the corner when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  Troy stiffened at the familiar voice.

  He tried to pull away from the grip. “Erik, what the hell are you doing?”

  Erik’s grip tightened on his shoulder. “You’ve been avoiding me, how the hell else am I going to get you to talk to me?”

  Troy frowned. “What? Erik, of course, I’ve been avoiding you, you’ve been clinging to me like some sort of needy boyfriend. Jesus, I blocked you, so I didn’t have to open up my phone and see thirty missed calls while I was at work.”

  Erik’s dark hazel eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to just put me off like that, Troy.”

  “The hell I don’t!”

  “You owe me more than that.”

  Troy finally succeeded in wrenching himself out of Erik’s grasp. “I don’t owe you shit, Erik. We had a great weekend, and I liked spending time with you, but that’s all it was, a weekend.”

  “No it wasn’t, not to me.”

  “Maybe not, but I told you from the very start that it was nothing serious, and you were fine with that. So leave me the hell alone and accept it!”

  Erik took hold of Troy again, this time by the neck, and shoved him against the wall. Troy gasped as his head slammed against the brick wall behind him, stars flashing in his eyes.

  “You little slut,” Erik hissed.

  “Fuck...you,” Troy grunted.

  Christ, why did he have to pick big guys for his favored bed partners? Erik had almost half a foot on Troy and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds. His strong fingers, calloused and rough from his work in an auto shop, were beginning to dig into Troy’s throat, cutting off his oxygen. It didn’t help that Erik was pushing himself closer, making it almost to kissing distance as he pinned Troy to the wall.

  “You don’t...get to do that to me,” Erik continued, the smell of beer heavy on his breath.

  Troy tried to lash out, but Erik was too close, and Troy had never learned more than the basic maneuvers when it came to a fight. The best he could do was struggle against the man’s body, his mind frantic as he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do. This portion of the street was empty of people, away from the normal thoroughfare that most people used while they roamed around looking to get drunk and lucky.

  God, Erik could probably do whatever he wanted to him.

  “Erik, let...go,” Troy wheezed.

  The man was apparently beyond logic and reason, his fingers tightening on Troy’s neck. Darkness beg
an to creep in around the edges of his vision, and even as he was beginning to fade away, Troy’s mind couldn’t help but evaluate what was happening in medical terms. If Erik continued, Troy was going to be another murder victim in the city. Cause of death? Asphyxiation.

  A shadow fell over them, accompanied by a growl. It wasn’t enough to make Erik loosen his grip on Troy, but it was enough to make him step back to see what the interference was. Troy gritted his teeth and lashed out with what little strength he had left, driving his knee between Erik’s legs.

  Erik gasped, then squeaked, and he stepped back with a hissed, “You…”

  And then the shadow descended.

  The huge shape barreled into Erik, and Troy gasped desperately as the grip around his throat was ripped away. Troy dropped to the ground, not realizing until his ass hit the pavement that Erik had been holding him up the whole time. His hand rose to his throat as he gasped for breath, looking toward the two men fighting nearby. Troy’s eyes widened as he recognized the shape of one of the men as he rolled and tried to punch the other.

  “O-Oscar?” Troy rasped, rubbing his throat.

  Oscar was giving the fight his all, and despite the lack of two hands, he was managing quite well. Troy watched as Oscar shoved Erik onto his back, rearing back to punch him across the jaw, once, twice, three times. Troy’s eyes widened as he realized Oscar wasn’t going to stop, and he launched himself forward.

  Troy wrapped his hands around Oscar’s forearm and yanked back. “Oscar! Stop!”

  Oscar turned to snarl at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Stopping you from ruining your fucking life, now stop! You’ve won, he’s down, stop!”

  Sure enough, the most to come out of Erik was a low gurgle as he looked around with dazed eyes. Troy stared down at him, amazed that not only had Erik been ready to kill him, but that the fight had happened so fast.

  “Shit, did I pass out?” Troy wondered.

  It was the only thing that could explain how his memory could go from gasping in a breath and checking himself over mentally to the fight being over and done with.

  Troy looked at Oscar, his eyes widening. “Oh shit...Oscar.”

  He had definitely missed a lot. There was a nasty mark beside Oscar’s right eye, and a cut on his left eyebrow was bleeding steadily. There were scrapes on his bare arm from their scuffle in the street, and Troy had no doubt there were probably more injuries he couldn’t see.

  Troy gave him another tug. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  “I don’t have a car,” Oscar grumbled.

  “Well, I do. I’ll call someone to come and pick Erik up, but I’m getting you back to the base to look these wounds over.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Troy gave another tug, and once Oscar was on his feet, pointed to the corner. “Go, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Like you ever fucking did,” Oscar grumbled.

  Troy shook his head, biting back the acerbic response waiting on the tip of his tongue. He crouched down beside Erik, who was still struggling for consciousness. Troy reached into the man’s shirt and pulled out his phone, amazed to see it was still in one piece.

  “Good quality phone cover,” Troy remarked.

  As he waited for the phone to dial 911, he turned to watch Oscar as he limped down the street and smiled. Oscar was indeed walking in the exact direction Troy had pointed, despite his complaining.

  “Fuck,” Oscar hissed, pulling back.

  Troy kept his hand in one place, raising a brow. “Really? Don’t be a big baby.”

  “It hurts.”

  “This from the man with enough gunshot wounds he could apply to be a range target.”

  Oscar continued to glower at him but leaned forward, this time only wincing when Troy dabbed the cut on his brow. It turned out Oscar didn’t have any first aid supplies at his apartment, and in a fit of irony, neither did Troy. So instead, he’d opted to take Oscar back to the clinic where he knew he’d have supplies at hand, and would only have to endure a curious look from Dean before shoving Oscar into one of the exam rooms.

  “This needs stitches,” Troy said, eyeing the wound.

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. It needs stitches.”

  “And I said it’s fine,” Oscar growled.

  Troy stepped back, leveling his gaze at Oscar. “And as the medically trained professional here, I’m saying you need stitches, and you’re going to get them. So keep your ass in that seat, Staff Sergeant, or I’ll sedate you and then put in the stitches.”

  Oscar continued to glower at him, but he didn’t put up a further fight. Tossing the swab in the nearby bin, Troy backed out of the room and down the hallway to the office. He stopped in the doorway, spying Dean as the man kicked back in his seat, reading a book, with a smirk on his face.

  “Why the hell do you look so pleased with yourself?” Troy demanded.

  “I don’t hear you whip out the ‘Doc’ voice, like, at all,” Dean said with a chuckle.

  “Quit eavesdropping like a little sneak,” Troy told him.

  “It’s quiet as a tomb in here. I can hear everything.”

  Troy rolled his eyes. “Can you do me a favor?”

  Dean looked up. “What, get you the suture kit from the supply closet, using my personal code, so the system doesn't flag you were here when you weren’t supposed to be?”

  Troy frowned. “You don’t have to make it sound that shady.”

  “It’s only shady if you don’t tell me why you’re here instead of at a hospital.”

  Troy sighed. “We...there was a fight.”

  “Between you two?”

  “Ha! I’d be in traction if that were the case. Have you seen Oscar? Guy is twice my size.”

  “In all ways?”

  Troy blinked. “Did...you just talk about Oscar’s dick?”

  “Maybe, why?”

  “Because you never make dirty jokes or comments or even pretend sex exists in your world.”

  “It exists,” Dean said, setting his book aside with a snort.

  Troy’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, did you and Sloane finally…”

  “Hey! What do you mean ‘finally’?”

  “Oh shit. You did!”

  Dean pushed himself out of his seat with a sigh. “Right, I’ll get you your supplies on the understanding that you shut the hell up and don’t finish whatever you were about to say.”

  “Only if you give me the details later.”

  Dean hesitated, grimaced, and then said, “Fine. Deal.”

  Troy bounced up and down with a pleased smirk and waited for Dean as the man stepped into the supply room. He’d honestly taken a stab at what could have possibly made Dean more liberal with his comments than usual, and what had improved his mood so greatly. It certainly didn’t hurt that Troy had seen Sloane around the clinic the day before, and the usually surly looking man looked almost radiant and happy.

  “Good for you,” Troy muttered with a wide grin.

  Dean reappeared a moment later with the supplies, shoving them into Troy’s hands. “Don’t hang around here for too long, okay? Last thing I need is for some dumbass private to see you here, run their mouth, and then suddenly we’re being asked questions.”

  “We won’t be long. I just need to stitch the grumpy one up, and we’ll call it good,” Troy said.

  “And here I thought that was your term for Sloane.”

  “Apparently, since he’s getting laid more often, he’s not grumpy anymore.”

  Dean jabbed a finger toward the office door. “Alright, out.”

  Troy laughed, turning on his heel and walking out of the office before Dean found something to throw at him. His laughter died as he pushed back the curtain to step back into the examination room, stopping when he saw the scowl on Oscar’s face.

  “What?” Troy asked.

  “What are you out there laughing about?” Oscar asked.

  Troy shook his head. �
��Not you.”

  For a moment, he thought about telling Oscar but realized he didn’t want the man to know that Dean knew about the two of them. Oscar could be a difficult patient as it was, Troy didn’t want to deal with him freaking out because someone knew his ‘dreaded’ secret.

  Troy set the supplies on a tray and got to work. “You know, I have to ask…”

  Oscar watched Troy prep the needle and thread. “What?”

  “Why were you there?”

  Oscar averted his eyes, clearing his throat. “I was...where?”

  “At the club?” Troy asked.

  Oscar nodded. “I can’t really drink with the meds and all, but sometimes I like to go out, see the sights, see people. Sucks being stared at all the time, but it beats hiding away in my apartment all day and night.”

  Troy’s curiosity curdled as he felt a mixture of sympathy for Oscar and anger at the people who stared. It was the 21st century for fuck’s sake, why did people still feel the need to stare at injured or disabled people like it was a modern-day freakshow?

  “People should keep their eyes to themselves,” Troy grunted.

  “Don’t get in a tizzy over it,” Oscar chided.

  “I’m not in a tizzy, and don’t change the subject.”

  Oscar shrugged, still not looking him in the eye. “I saw you there. Thought about a dozen different things I could say to you, but instead, I just sat there, like an idiot, and didn’t say anything.”

  “So, you were watching me?” Troy asked in amusement.

  Oscar looked up, frowning. “Not in a creepy way!”

  Troy laughed, patting Oscar’s chest consolingly. “Alright, alright, just in an awkward way.”

  Oscar swatted at his hand. “Quit it you ass. I saw the guy following you around. Kept his eyes on you, but he didn’t look like someone who wanted to fuck you would look like.”

  “You would know,” Troy muttered.

  “And,” Oscar continued with a glare. “He kept out of your sight. When you bounced out of the club, he kept his eye on you and followed you out.”

  “I didn’t bounce,” Troy huffed.

  Oscar winced at the first jab in his brow. “Call it what you want, the guy was following you. No one doing that is up to any good, so I followed.”