Page 51 of Foxed Up

"Thankyou." I looked him in the eye. "I owe you everything." This made him duck his head and blush hard. I left him to it.

I drove as carefully as I could to the hospital, but I felt my concentration wavering.Coffee. Several large coffees should do it.

I stopped and grabbed a big one at a fast food place, taking a moment to call Mom and ask if Eli was doing okay. She was watching him for me. I told her about the Lexie situation, and she said I could have done nothing less.

"I'll watch Eli for a few days till you get something sorted out." She coughed. When she caught her breath, she continued, "He's being good, but I don't know what to tell him. He's worried."

"Tell him everything's okay." I wasn't sure he'd believe that, but hearing that Wallace was in the hospital because bad guys had tried to kill him probably wasn't going to give him any sweet dreams, either.

Then I was on the road again, and finally made it to the hospital. Even though I knew Wallace was on the road to recovery, had had it practically guaranteed to me that he would pull through, every moment of separation made my heart beat with a desperate need to be there. The superstitious part of me thought he wouldn't recover unless I stayed by his side the whole time, keeping watch. The rest of me just missed him like fucking crazy, and was still trying to believe he would be okay.

Some part of me had already accepted he was almost certainly dead. I didn't know how long it would take me to recover from that, if those dark shadows would ever truly leave. I had felt like a dead man walking. I honestly hadn't known how I would go on — for my son, my mother, and myself. I'd known I would have to even if the worst was true, but I hadn't known how I would possibly manage it. How could I ever survive losing him?

How had I gotten that close to him, that attached to him, that I needed him just to breathe without pain? It made me shake my head. But I wouldn't change it; I wouldn't change a damned thing.

When I got to the room, Matt was there. I gave him a dark look. Wallace was awake, and looked so extremely exhausted. He looked at me, and a wan smile sparked on his face. "Jon." He sounded so relieved.

"Is this guy bothering you?" I pointed a thumb at Matt.

"No, no. Just...you're here." He raised one hand weakly towards me.

I moved quickly into the space Matt was vacating and took Wallace's hand gingerly. "Hey, pal."

"Jon. I'm glad..." He exhaled, his eyes falling shut. He really did look awful. Bruises and sewn up-cuts, one arm heavily bandaged, an IV giving him fluids, one eye shut.

I stood there awkwardly, holding his hand, as he drifted back to sleep in utter exhaustion. And I had not been happier all day.

#

"Jon? Are you okay?"

I jerked awake and stared at my boyfriend. It was later in the day; I'd started to drift off to sleep. The hospital chairs weren't comfortable, but I was so sleep deprived at this point it was hard to stay awake.

Wallace smiled at me from the bed, looking better than he had just a few hours ago. His one open eye looked bright, alive; he seemed more comfortable, too. Must be the painkillers. It was still good to see.

"I'm okay." I suppressed a yawn. "Just tired. How are you? Feeling any better?"

"Yes. Much." He stretched a little without jarring his bandaged arm, and yawned, too. "I want to go home, but the doctors said not yet."

"Well, buddy, you've been through a lot."

He gave me a strange look. "Why do you keep calling me buddy?"

"I guess I get awkward when my boyfriend almost dies." I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't do that again, you hear me?"

"I hear you." His smile was bright and cracked. "I like it when I'm your boyfriend."

"I like it, too." I thought of all the people I'd told that he was my boyfriend in the course of this investigation. I hadn't been embarrassed once. Why couldn't I have gotten to that point earlier? Then I wouldn't have hurt him with my bullshitting words. I'd cared more what a stranger thought of me in that one moment than what he did. Not anymore, baby. "I'm so fucking glad you're safe. Do you want to talk about any of it?"

He shrugged. "It's still a blur. They took me away in a car. When I had a chance, I made a break for it, but after that I don't remember details. What happened?"

I cleared my throat. "I ended up going to Quinn Green for help. He sniffed around and found a fox shifter who'd been on the premises. Name of Lexie."

"Lexie. Yeah. I remember him."

"I questioned him, and he agreed to help hunt for you. He directed me to a place in the countryside, but couldn't quite find the right spot. Then he smelled you and we found you in a field. I thought you were dead." It hurt to talk about, but he deserved to know.

"Oh, Jon." He reached up and touched my face, very lightly, his fingers so weak they trembled slightly. "I wasn't going to scare you that way again, was I?" The remorse in his eyes was clear.