Page 9 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

“Uh, morning?” Troy asked.

Simmons blinked. “Uh, nothing?”

He pushed his way past the two men and into his small cubicle. Plopping down, he jammed his finger on the power button of his computer, cursing when he realized it had already been on. Fuming, he waited until it finished its shutdown procedure so he could turn it back on again.

“Shit, what’s wrong with Doc?” he heard Simmons mutter.

“Um, he’s been like that for about a week now just...don’t mind him.”

“Fuck, man, Sloane almost took my head off today when I asked him what time he got off his shift. Think that’s got anything to do with it?”

Dean shoved at his desk, rolling over to the doorway with a clatter. “I think the two of you should stop gossiping and get back to what you’re here for in the first place. How about that?”

Troy turned, giving Simmons a shove toward the room. “Right, get your ass in there before you get us both killed.”

“Man, no one likes questions around here,” Simmons grumbled as he was pushed away.

Dean continued to glower until the two men were out of sight.

That accomplished, he pushed back toward the computer just in time for it to pop up with the login screen.

Ignoring the faint sound of quiet voices down the hall, he tapped at the keyboard, jabbing the enter button to get his day started.

The sound of soft footsteps coming up the hallway sent his heart racing.

Few people walked that quietly, especially without their presence being announced by the sound of the door.

Dean looked up to the doorway of his cubicle, wondering if he wanted it to be Sloane or terrified that it would be.

He was spared by the presence of Marco, his hazel eyes shifting over Dean’s face before smiling gently.

Shoving his faint disappointment aside, Dean returned the smile. “Hey, Marco.”

“I can tell you’re not feeling much better.”

Dean sighed. “No, not really.”

Marco leaned against the doorway. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, but I’m open to drinking about it.”

“Is this the part where I remind you you already did that?”

Dean winced. “Can we not?”

The last thing he needed was to remember how abysmally drunk he’d gotten while he was supposed to be on a date with Marco earlier that week.

As far as he knew, he hadn’t made a complete idiot of himself, but just the knowledge that he’d been drunk off his ass was enough to make him cringe.

His attempts at making light of the situation bit him in the ass as surely as losing his temper with Sloane had.

“I know things have been a little...tense for you,” Marco began.

Dean snorted. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“Which is why I called. You were all but mute yesterday.”

Dean blinked, staring at the blank spot on the wall as he analyzed what Marco had said.

After a moment, he realized the man was absolutely right.

Dean had been so caught up in what he’d been doing he hadn’t touched his phone more than a few times throughout the day.

True, the clinic had been busier than usual, a distraction Dean had welcomed, but Dean hadn’t been any better by the time he got back to his apartment.

Dean winced. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m more out of it than I thought.”

“You’re fine. Last I checked, Sloane was not only your best friend but someone you’ve never fought with before. This has got to be weird for you both.”

Dean laughed. “How are you still willing to give him credit? He didn’t exactly make a good first impression.”

“Anyone you’re willing to devote this much emotional energy to must be worth it. I can’t see you being this close to someone who was awful. He might have been...abrasive when I met him, but considering the circumstances, I can’t say I blame him.”

Dean couldn’t even summon the energy to be mad at Sloane for that anymore.

His friend had been taken so off-guard, no mean feat considering Sloane was pretty steady, and the realization that Dean had been keeping something from him had stung.

Sloane might not want to admit it, but Dean knew his friend, and the man would have taken Dean keeping secrets as not just an insult, but he would have felt snubbed.

And looking back on it, Dean couldn’t blame him.

Dean looked up again, shaking his head. “What are you doing here?”

Marco chuckled, walking forward to sit on the edge of Dean’s desk. “Well, like I said, after you were quiet yesterday, I grew concerned. You’ve been trying to look like you’re okay, but you’re obviously not.”

It didn’t help that Dean hadn’t told Marco what had driven Dean from Sloane’s apartment.

Just as Dean had found it too hard to tell Sloane about Marco, he point-blank refused to tell Marco about his feelings for Sloane, especially because they were still present, even though he was trying his hardest to move past them.

When did he become hellbent on holding on to so many secrets from those he cared about?

Marco took Dean’s hand gently in his, squeezing it. “Have you thought about talking to him?”

Dean looked down at his phone. “I’ve tried to text him a dozen times and deleted them halfway. I dial his number and immediately hang up.”

“Here’s a thought. Have you tried just simply finding Sloane and talking to him face to face?”

Dean had, but the idea made his already upset stomach do flips non-stop.

What exactly was he supposed to say to Sloane?

Dean had dumped the reality of his true feelings in the man’s lap without even the benefit of tact as a buffer.

Everything Dean had felt, anguished over and held tight within himself, had spilled forth.

Dean knew the phrase about dams bursting, but never had he felt such a torrent of emotions pour from him before, and he still didn’t know what to think about it.

Sloane couldn’t have been in a better place over it, either. The shock on Sloane’s face was burned into Dean’s memory. His friend had never known, never suspected, and it had struck him like a sucker punch. How exactly was Dean supposed to face him after that?

“Considered it, but then I also considered finding a big rock and living under it for the rest of my life.”

Marco’s mouth twitched. “My little hermit crab.”

Dean smiled but couldn’t think what to add to the endearment that wasn’t depressing.

He thought he’d spent enough time scuttling through the sand to last a lifetime.

Images of towering mountains of sand, interspersed with sunbaked stretches of dirt, rose in his mind.

Dean took a deep breath, focusing on the sharp smell of antiseptic and the rich scent of food sitting in front of him before his mind went from desolate sands to blood and screaming.

“Dean?” Marco asked worriedly.

Dean gave him a light squeeze, smiling. “Just thinking a little too hard, sorry.”

He wasn’t Marco’s, any more than the other man was his.

The night Sloane had stumbled across them, Dean had finally been trying to find the courage to make whatever he and Marco had more official.

It would have been nice to say he had a boyfriend, but the sudden presence and fallout of his best friend finding them had shot that in the face.

Now, he couldn’t summon the energy to take that last step with Marco.

Dean closed his eyes, promising that when he’d settled things with Sloane, he would ask Marco to be his boyfriend.

“Look,” Marco began.

Dean’s eyes snapped open, eyeing him warily. “Please tell me you’re not about to tell me we should just be friends.”

Marco hesitated for the briefest of moments before shaking his head. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I can handle anything else being thrown at me right now...shit, wait, that’s not fair to you, is it?”

Marco hopped off the desk and knelt before Dean. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not ending things or walking away, alright? Unless you choose to walk away, or there’s a very good reason for me...to step aside, I’m not going to, alright.”

Dean tilted his head, slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“I was going to say that maybe you should talk to Sloane. I bet he’s just as miserable as you are right now.”

Dean thought about what he’d heard Simmons muttering to Troy and sighed.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear that Sloane was more surly than usual.

Sloane had always been a little bad-tempered, but if he was grumpy enough that someone who worked with him regularly commented on it, Sloane must have been spitting nails.

“And what if he’s still mad?” Dean asked, fearing it might be even worse than just mad.

“I don’t think he was mad in the first place. Do you?”

“No, God, it sounds so childish, but I think I hurt his feelings.”

Marco winked. “You’re never too old to get your feelings hurt, Dean. And before you get that guilty look on your face, sometimes you hurt someone’s feelings without meaning to. No one’s perfect, and let’s be honest, it’s true what they say. We always hurt the ones we love the most.”

Dean frowned. “That’s not really supposed to make me feel better, is it?”

“Give it a little thought, and maybe it will make you feel better. You’ve got to forgive yourself for being human. We’re all flawed.”

“You sound more like a therapist than a tech guy,” Dean observed.

Marco leaned back, mock preening. “Well, as your senior, I have some life experience under my belt. I’ve accumulated a bit of wisdom in my time.”

Dean snorted, swatting Marco’s chest gently. “You’re a whole three years older, don’t start.”

Marco caught his hand, standing up. “I mean it, though. Stop punishing yourself for this and go talk to him. If you ask me, you’re both going to be really awkward.

Try to talk about it, and realize you simply want your friendship back.

You’ll do it, and things will get back to normal, and when they are, you can deal with the problem at hand. ”

“You make it sound a lot easier than it feels.”

Something unreadable flicked across Marco’s eyes and was gone before Dean could register what it was.

“You two are incredibly close, and that sort of bond doesn’t get thrown away over one fight.”

Dean chewed his lip, unsure, considering the parts Marco didn’t know.

Marco squeezed his hand again. “Just give it some thought. Can you promise me that?”

Dean huffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Without drinking?”

Dean looked up, narrowing his eyes. “Without drinking.”

Marco bent forward, kissing his cheek gently. “Good, you’ll be doing yourself and your liver a favor.”

Dean smiled, watching him go even as his mind ran over everything they’d discussed.

He desperately wanted Marco to be right and for him and Sloane to ultimately find a way to get beyond what had happened.

Dean wanted to believe his and Sloane’s friendship was strong enough to move past even Dean’s surprise revelation and that he wasn’t going to lose the best friendship he’d ever known and one of the greatest people he’d ever known.

Hope flickered in Dean’s chest, even as he wondered why it felt as though Marco was slipping away.