Page 27 of The Barn: Frost and Q

Twenty-Two

Q uentin had no question that he was a bully.

He bullied himself into a plane that Carson had provided. He bullied himself from the mainland down to California. Then he pulled himself into the hospital.

Q didn’t have time to worry, to be scared, or to think.

His husband needed him.

Frost was in a private room, hooked up to oxygen. He was scorched a little, sure, but the big thing was the damage to his lungs.

He sat there, just drinking in the sight of his beautiful lover, so tan and dark against the bedsheet.

“Do you want me to stay?” Boone stood at the end of Frost’s bed, looking like he was saying his goodbyes, which didn’t work for him.

Q smiled, or tried to, and shook his head. “I don’t need anything. I’ve got it.” Go away .

He wanted to just be in Frost’s presence. He just needed to see his husband and to be where Frost was.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna just leave you.”

“I’m fine. I have this. Trust me. I’ve got this.

Just go on. Let me… Let me be with him for a bit.

And then we’ll—” He had to find something for Boone to do, Boone needed a job, needed to feel functional and needed.

“Can you get us a close hotel? Get us all set up with an accessible car and stuff for the duration? Once he gets out of here, we’ll have to have a place for him to stay for a couple of days.

You know, that sort of thing.” That was good, right?

“Oh, I can totally do that. No problem.” Boone turned to search his face. “You got my number, but?—”

“Boone, it’s me. I’ve got your number. I gave you your number. I know how to get you. I just need to sit with him, and I need you to be able to deal with some of that other crap.”

Was that fair? Probably not, but it was what it was, right? Right.

Boone hugged him, then he made his way out the door. “Okay, if you need me?—”

“I’ll call you. He’s just going to sleep right now, I bet. You know I’m just gonna sit here and watch him like a big dork.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d just sit there and watch with you.”

The door closed, and they were there by themselves.

That was when he could let himself tear up for just half a second.

“Oh, you asshole. Did you really feel it necessary to breathe in every bit of smoke in the entirety of the state of California?”

Frost actually seemed to grin in his sleep, and it felt good to know that, even sound asleep, Frost was listening.

“I mean, seriously. I’ve been keeping tabs on Chauncey, just to let you know.

He’s gonna be okay. He’s got some second-degree burns, one third on his back, and he broke the fuck out of his ankle, so I don’t think he’s going to be running any marathons any time soon.

But you know, neither are you. So it’s fair.

” He settled in his chair, just letting himself ramble.

“I thought I lost you. It’s not the most wonderful thing on Earth, you know.

I think about it sometimes, how you must have felt.

Because, you know, we’re both…we’re both firefighters.

So how many times have I sat waiting for you because of a broken bone or burn or smoke inhalation?

Over and over, right? Like days, it seems like.

” Quentin took a deep breath, let it out.

“But that stuff we…we expect. That’s our normal. ”

It was fucked up and shit, but it was absolutely their normal.

“When I got shot, I got kidnapped? That wasn’t normal.

That was deeply fucked up. And I think about how hard that had to be—for me to be deeply messed up and for there not to have been a fire involved.

I’m sorry that I scared you. I mean, I’m sorry I got shot.

That part sucks, but I’m also sorry that you had to do this, and you had to sit and wait and watch and wonder if I was going to be okay.

If I was going to wake up, if when I did wake up, if I was going to be me. ”

The thought actually made him a little queasy, to be honest. “I mean with you, I know you’re going to wake up, because I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.

And I know that you’re going to cough and your lungs are going to hurt and you have to blow up balloons and do breathing treatments.

But I know that you’ll be all right. It must have been so hard. ”

He sighed and started rolling back and forth in his own version of pacing.

“Yukon wasn’t very happy to be left behind, I’ll have you know.

He informed me, in no uncertain terms, that he was a balance dog, and I might need him.

I told him I don’t think they’re going to let you go in the hospital, buddy.

He was deeply offended. He may never forgive you. I did tell him it was all your fault.”

He talked and talked until he was hoarse about nothing and everything.

Frost was sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted, only waking very briefly to cough hysterically and then sink back down.

And so he chattered.

He chattered and he paced. He talked to nurses and nurse’s aides, who checked vitals and put things in IVs. Everything that they came at Frost with, Quentin asked about. What was it, what was it for, why did he need it?

And then, he watched TV.

Hours of it, it seemed like. There was always a marathon of something running. Law and Order. Some inane food show. He found one of those where people were running around the wilderness, butt naked, being morons. That was vaguely amusing.

He wasn’t sure why people would do it, to be honest. Who wanted to wander around the wilderness naked?

It was cold or hot, and there were no computers or air-conditioning or the ability to order pizza at will, all three of which—while Quentin was certified to be a hotshot and a jumper—really he preferred to work the bulk of his magic in the hut with the computers and all of the paperwork.

Yes, that made him kind of crappy because it meant he was capable of being a hero. He just didn’t want to.

He could probably live with that.

“Babe, is that you?” Poor Frost’s voice sounded like he’d been throat fucked with a corn cob.

He rolled right up to the bed and held Frost’s hand. “I’m right here. You’ve been sleeping hard.”

“Yeah, I thought I heard you talking. Could hear you. It let me rest knowing that you were right here.”

“I was. You’re going to be fine. You just needed some rest and some lung treatments and some oxygen.”

“How am I doing there?”

Q glanced at the monitors. It was still at seventy-six and still not great. “So you got a little ways to go. You’re going to have to do some deep breathing shit. It’s going to be blowing up balloons for the next six weeks.”

“Uh-huh, that’s okay.” Frost sighed, so dramatic. “Chauncey?”

“Broken ankle and burns. Real grumpy. I’m bringing them up to the Barn.” It was only fair.

“Well, I bet Carson will love that. We’ve already got Zeke.”

Q snorted and tossed his hair. “Carson can cope.”

Actually, Carson was perfectly happy. He didn’t mind. As far as the man was concerned, permanent residents were just visitors. As long as they were paying, the permanent residents were safe, and they didn’t have to worry near as much about security.

“My eyes are burning.”

“Okay, I’ll call the nurses and get you some eye drops.”

Frost fumbled for his hand. “No, no, no, don’t call them. They don’t need to be in here, yet. They’ll come sure as anything. I love you. You made the right call with them all, I mean, a lot of us?—”

As soon as Frost’s face started to crumble, he shook his head. “Hey. I saw a thing. I called you. You did the best you could. I’m sorry about the others. It sucks.”

“Yeah. I should have been more?—”

No, he didn’t think so. “We should have been more what? Careful? What about Cap? Does he get to take the blame for this too? Or are we going to just say that whoever started this fire is another fucker and we should have them drawn and quartered?”

“You are a bloodthirsty little son of a bitch, aren’t you?” That made Frost grin.

“I am absolutely, one hundred percent, a bloodthirsty son of a bitch. I’m so glad you’re okay. I couldn’t stay up there and wait for somebody to release you, knowing that you needed me here.”

Frost actually looked at him this time. “I always need you. You’re my baby boy. I will always need you. I want to go home.”

“I know.”

Quentin already had people at the house in Alaska moving his furniture, his things down into Frost’s space. They’d leave the big bed in the upstairs unit just because sometimes it was nice to be able to take a nap or whatever.

But it was time for him and Yukon to move home with Frost permanently. They both needed it.

“It shouldn’t be too long before they send you home. I’d say a couple days in here, a day or two at a hotel.”

Frost nodded. “I assume you’re here with Boone?”

“Yeah, Carson’s holding down the fort, Tug is heading in to help him, and you know how Boone is. He wanted to be here. He worries.”

“He’s a mama bear.” Frost’s face screwed up as he fought not to cough. “Cap said something about a senator?”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, that was Carson.”

“I figured. When I could think, anyway.”

“You want a sip of water?” That poor throat.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Any time.” It was a bit of a challenge in the chair—everything was a little too tall and a little off kilter—but he managed. “I’m here for the duration. Just let me know what you need and I’m on it.”

He wasn’t going to let Frost swing. Not a chance.