Page 30 of Sean's Sunshine

Wow. Wasn’tSeanthe shittiest teacher ever. “Specific time, specific place, specific circumstance,” he said. “Were the things stolen all the same? What was different? Where were they stolen from—which part of the house or yard? Were there dogs there? Did these people share a plumber? A roofer? A gardener? What did they have in common besides living close to the park? Did anybody see anything? Was everybody on vacation? You want stuff as specific as possible so you know what to look for.”

Billy nodded and frowned. “This is why you guys are always carrying notepads, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” Sean shrugged. “I take notes on my phone, actually.” He grinned and made a little pinching motion with his thumb and forefinger. “Got a stylus and an app.”

“Very clever, cop-man.” Billy rolled his eyes. “My generation knows how to text in our notes. So there.”

Sean laughed. “Whatever floats your boat. Just make sure you take notes so we don’t have to remember everything, because that’s exhausting and inaccurate.”

Billy blew out a breath. “You’re making this cop thing sound hard. How dare you. Now I have to reassess my opinion of all cops everywhere.”

Sean regarded him with sober eyes. “No. Any cop treats you and your buddies like shit, you don’t have to reassess a goddamned thing.”

“Stay woke, cop.”

“Doing my best.”

THE NEXTday, Sean woke up with an elephant on his chest.

“Sean?” Billy’s voice sounded concerned, and Sean barely managed a raspy, “Yeah?” in return.

Billy appeared in his room as if by teleportation. “You’re blue. Goddammit! You spent too long in the recliner, and you’re fucking blue.”

“’M fine,” Sean had mumbled, but Billy probably didn’t hear him over the sound of his pounding feet as he went running for his phone.

He didn’t remember much after that—Billy helping him into sweats while talking urgently with Lance over the phone, and then Billy helping him into… Lance’s Mazda? Again?

“Where’s my Charger?” he asked as Billy belted him in from the driver’s side.

“We let Henry take it. The guys really wanted a ride. I was going to get it from Henry today after your walk. Lucky us, huh?”

“Sure.” He was thinking how much easier the Mazda was on his lungs, but he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t say much of anything really.

“Stop talking, asshole,” Billy muttered, looking over his shoulder while he palmed the wheel. They were going too fast, but Sean couldn’t complain about that either. Really, all he could do was pull in one breath after another while Billy broke speed records and sound barriers getting them through morning traffic to Med Center.

Lance was waiting outside with a wheelchair, and Billy lifted him into it with main strength.

“Go park the car,” Lance said. “I’ll get him admitted.” He bent down to Sean’s level. “How you doing, Mr. Kryzynski?”

“Bring Billy back,” Sean muttered. Henry’s boyfriend was almost supernaturally beautiful. If Sean ever saw an actual elf in real life, he’d expect it to look like Dr. Lance Luna. But even that stunningly beautiful face with the delicate cleft chin and the strong jaw didn’t comfort him now that Billy was apparently ditching him for a Mazda with primer spots on the side.

“Will do,” Lance said. “As soon as you’re admitted.”

Two hours later, Sean was in a hospital room hooked up to antibiotics and oxygen and trying to understand how this was his fault.

“You sat in the recliner, and you didn’t get up for hours,” Billy ranted, stalking back and forth at the foot of the bed. “You—you’re always doing something. Go to the park, try to do the dishes. Who in the hell needs to shower every day? Always something—”

“What in the hell is he ranting on about?” Henry asked as he came to sit by Sean’s bed.

“No… idea….” Sean panted. “Entertaining tho….”

Billy stopped and glared at him. “You. Asshole.” That was it—no elaboration or anything.

“Yes, yes he is,” Henry said, eyeing Billy like a fighter fish in a tank. “Entertaining. Not you, Kryzynski. As far as I know, you’re not an asshole.”

“He’s sick!” Billy snarled, responding to Henry’s statement. “How can he besick? I did everything. I gave him his meds, I made sure he got rest, I kept his wound clean I—”

“You did fine, Billy,” Lance said, coming in with a chart. “Heya, Sean. How you feeling?”