Page 91 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16

There were tears behind his eyes but they wouldn’t fall. Damian was saying the fight was over, but it didn’t seem possible. Didn’t feel real.

“I want to go home.”

“We can go to the hotel, then home, as soon as possible.”

“I just want to go back to the Den. I want to see your butterflies. I want Téméraire and Bear.” It seemed like childish things to say, but it was the truth. The floor was tilting out from under him and if he couldn’t work, if right now he couldn’t be the idol he’d been training so hard to get back to presenting the world, then he wanted to hide. There was no in between.

Jun closed his eyes. Damian’s hands were on his head. “Please, Alpha, I want to go home.”

“Home is wherever we are, all of us,” Damian said. “Come on. Richard ordered breakfast to the hotel. Émeric’s here with our clothes. Mi Hi is going to help us check out.”

Émeric had arrived? Jun opened his eyes. How long had he phased out for, just letting Damian have him in limbo while the world spun?

Mi Hi fiddled with the door; Émeric approached with a bag. Jun watched him.

“Hey, little crime.”

“You made the smell go away,” Jun whispered.

“It did go away, didn’t it?”

Jun nodded. But that wasn’t enough. He stood, hauling himself up by Damian’s shoulder despite the massive pain in his side, and reached for Émeric. “You were there.”

“We were all there,” Émeric said.

Jun clung to Damian with one hand, his other fisted in the front of Émeric jacket. Whatever drugs they had him on, they needed to back off on the dosage because he was going to do something stupid, like cry or fall into Émeric's chest and beg him for something. What he would beg for was unclear. Just…beg, probably.

He swayed, caught between impulse and what parts of his brain were still a fully functioning adult.

“Let’s get you dressed,” Émeric said gently. “Will you let me?”

Jun nodded, mutely. That seemed nice. Émeric always had nice clothes.

“Just not a dress,” Jun said. “I can’t wear that here.”

Mi Hi giggled. Jun looked up. She was still in the room with the door closed, but her back was turned. But that was okay. She was the first one who had ever put him in a dress.

“I’m not allowed to dance,” Jun told Émeric. It seemed important. “I can look nice, but no dancing. The doctor yelled.”

“No dancing. Well, then. We’ll have to do other things.” Émeric helped Jun out of his hospital shirt while Damian held Jun up right. Everything had become so much more difficult than before, even accounting for the bruises and his bandaged arm.

“He’s a little wobbly,” Émeric said.

“Meds are kicking in again,” Damian answered. “They administered new ones about twenty minutes ago.”

“Hate meds,” Jun muttered. “They make my head wrong.”

He didn’t remember much of the trip away from the hospital and only bits of entering the hotel and taking a freight elevator up. But the world came more into focus as soon as he saw the king-size bed where Collin was already asleep, curled up against Richard. Richard sat up and held his arms out to Jun. Jun flung himself at him. He didn’t quite make it, but Émeric and Damian helped, both in getting his clothes off and in getting his legs up on the bed. Or maybe they just lifted him. It didn’t matter. He laid flat against Richard, his head on the older man’s shoulder and everything was better. The only thing that would make it even better would be if Damian and Émeric would join them.

Ten minutes later they did.

“I think breakfast will still be good when we wake up,” Émeric murmured, settling in behind Collin.

Damian wrapped himself around Jun’s back. “If we have to, we can order it again.”

Then Jun was asleep, too far gone to hear anymore comments on food. Damian was right. This was home.

Epilogue