Coming Home

Holy fudge buckets, people! My mom decided to tell when I picked her up at the airport that instead of staying just 10 days with me she was spending 25 days here!!!!!! WTF?!?! I swear I haven't been cock blocked so much in my entire life!!! What's the female version of blue balls because I'm already feeling it (TMI I know) Still, you guys need to know why there may be longer waits for updates. For some reason, slash writing and shi'ite Catholicism don't quite mix.... Go figure! GAHHH! Anycrap: Sorry if my updates aren't every week or two. I'll try and escape when I can. But seriously, THIS IS WHY I FREAKING MOVED ACROSS THE COUNTRY!

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Songs for this chapter:

Come Back Down by Greg Laswell feat. Sarah Bareilles
Shooting The Moon by Mona
The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson


Back at 4:00 p.m. (ish)

The hospital door banged shut. Two surprised men chanced a glance at each other. One was fighting the urge to burst out laughing, the other fighting the same mirth but was also battling another urge to avenge the man rolling on the floor and moaning in pain. But that urge was finally beaten as Darryl wondered to himself once more if it really was worth it trying to reconnect with Dylan. Since he’d found out Riley had blackmailed him into coming back, he’d been torn between wanting to say things to his son that should’ve been said years ago and apathy. It was a well cultivated emotion who’s roots were deeply entrenched in his very being. To fight it was to fight who he was. He was pulled from his musings when heard Riley saying something that was muffled by his hand still holding his bleeding face.

“M’ mubba fubid ‘urd ‘im!”

Sighing for what seemed like the fifty millionth time that day, Darryl asked himself, if this was all worth it. He watched as Dr. Marshall helped Riley to his knees. The hands clutching his face were instantly transferred to his crotch and Darryl lost the battle. He busted out laughing and coughing with the strength of his laughs. He held his stomach and threw his head back as his laughter grew hysterical.

“ ’sdot fuddy! Fub oo!”

At this, Dr. Marshall also lost his battle and tried valiantly to hide it by helping the man up to sit in a nearby chair. But as Darryl’s now hysterical cackles rose in volume, he couldn’t hold back any longer and joined in. He was going breathless and tears were tracking down his face! Lord, this was so wrong.

Darryl calmed down first and wiped his tears of joy away, although the occasional chuckle still slipped out. Dr. Marshall was leaning against a wall and was calming down quickly as well. He seemed to be trying to straighten himself up by straightening his tie. As if that’d make a red-faced Riley forget that they’d just been laughing at him.

Stephan cleared his throat. “I apologize, Mr. McNamara. There was nothing funny about what just happened to you.”

Riley’s shirt was now bloodied, but his face was flushed a crimson red. He was PISSED. Fucking Dylan. He’d make him pay. He sounded like a fucking four year old and he was pretty sure his dick was broken!

He glared at the doctor who looked like he was still fighting laughter and bit out through a jaw clenched in both anger and pain, “ ‘er damb ride ‘ere’s dubbid fuddy! FUB!”

Suppressing another chuckle, Stephan Marshall tried to be as professional as possible after laughing at a patient, literally, in his face. “Mr. McNamara, I need to look at you. See if there are any broken bones.”

Darryl couldn’t resist. “Check to see if his pecker is broken!” he managed to say before breaking down once more in hysterics.

Caught off guard once again, Stephan couldn’t stop the honest to god guffaw that escaped. He had to look away from Darryl because if he saw the man rolling on his bed, hacking up his lungs and tears streaming down his smiling cheeks, he’d lose it again.

After several more incredibly inappropriate comments from Darryl about various parts of Riley anatomy, including the recommendation for Riley to “go ahead and dig the hole if he can’t use the pole”, Dr. Marshall was able to hold back his laughter and check the man who was now looking like he was in quite a bit of pain. Fortunately, there were no broken anything’s, just bruising. Lots of bruising. Unfortunately, due to his brother’s mocking, Riley’s anger had reached boiling point.

Now able to speak clearly, Riley was getting on his soap box. “I want him gone! I’m gonna fucking sue this whole damn hospital!”

Dr. Marshall knew that he had every right to do so. Why had Nathan just snapped like that? And where the hell was he? Stephan knew he was so not in the right position to try and talk this man down and if he did try he’d just make a bad situation worse. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit….

Darryl was not up to hearing a full blown rant from Riley. Judging by the flush coming over Riley’s face behind the black bruises he knew that that was exactly what was coming. Laughing, while making him feel better than he had in a very long time, had given him a bit of headache and he definitely didn’t want it exacerbated.

“You’re not doing anything, Ri. Calm down.”

Bug-eyed, Riley turned on his brother, the only man he ever loved. He really wanted to kill him. “Of course I‘m doing something. Look at me! He assaulted me!”

“I am looking at you, baby brother. And don’t you forget that you assaulted someone else first. Now, look at me. Do you see where I am? I am now in a position that these men have to give me the best care and Dylan has to do what I want him to do, if he wants to keep his friend out of the fire. Think smart, Riley.”

It began to dawn on Riley, albeit slowly, the truth of Darryl’s words. A malicious grin stole over his face, morphing the battered visage into something that Dr. Stephan Marshall could only describe as truly wicked. Even Darryl could not stomach looking at him. He felt guilty. He didn’t really mean his words that way. He just knew the only way to get Riley to calm down was to give him something else to focus on.

Riley wanted revenge. Darryl just made it sound like that’s what he was giving him, but he didn’t want to do that to Dylan. Or that other guy. He wanted to get better. He wanted to live. He didn’t want to keep manipulating, pushing and pulling his two sons to suit his purposes. He didn’t want to examine his feelings and he still wasn’t sure if calling Dylan to come back was worth it or not. If he lived, it would be. But he hoped the doctor’s had some fancy footwork to help him get to that point and if he could ensure Dylan helped him out along the way, then he’d make things right after. He was so unbelievably tired now and he just wanted to live. By any means necessary.

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5:45 p.m.

Dylan’s eyes popped open at 5:45 a.m. For a moment, he had to fight the disorientation of not waking up in his own bed. Then the last two hours filtered back in and his heart went into overdrive. Here in the growing darkness of the night with the delicious weight of Nathan half laying on him and that still warm cock laying on his thigh, his brain was peacefully empty. He actually was laying there, hand running soothing circles over Nathan’s forearm, staring at that beautiful face that’d haunted him throughout his life, but could not find anything wrong in that moment.

He was thinking of what it’d be like when they went back to the hospital. He knew there was no way that either Darryl or Riley would let Nathan’s assault slide. Even if it was completely warranted. Dylan thought of as well, how weird Darryl had been acting. Almost conciliatory. But he wouldn’t be deceived. Darryl was about as changed a man as a bronc in a lab coat was a scientist.

He was still lost in his thoughts, enjoying the warmth from the body sprawled across him that he did not notice the eyes that were blinking open or the lazy grin that was spreading across Nathan’s face. He noticed though the air in the room shift and turned to look into the now conscious eyes of his lover. And just like that his breath was gone and there was a tightness in his chest that he’d never thought he’d get to experience.

For long moments, they simply laid there, Dylan still drawing circles on Nathan’s forearm and Nathan stroking a small line with his thumb on Dylan’s shoulder. Neither moved more than that out of some unconscious fear that the spell, the wonderful miracle that’d brought the two of them together would be broken. There were so many questions swirling around Dylan’s head and despite the unreadable expression on Nathan’s he knew the same had to be happening to him too.

Nathan drew a breath in like he was about to say something, but exhaled loudly when nothing was forthcoming. Dylan smiled widely at the abso-fucking-lutely adorable pout on the man’s face. Nathan huffed again at the small chuckle that fell from those puffy lips. He scooted his head down on Dylan’s shoulder and leaned into his neck, essentially hiding his blush. It really didn’t matter because Dylan could feel the heat emanating from the brunette’s face and deduced that he was blushing.

“Fuck, this is awkward.”

Dylan laughed again. He didn’t say anything because really there was nothing to say. It was true. For as much as they had confessed and felt for each other, the fact of the matter was they knew next to nothing about each other. There was a ball of discomfort that was forming in his belly, clouding his joy and satisfaction. It was sending signals that he needed to get up and move, get out while the getting was good. It wasn’t a wholly unfamiliar emotion, but, for the first time, his mind and heart weren’t wanting to budge for anything.

Nathan could sense the body underneath him stiffen up. He raised his head to look into the face of a scared Dylan. Fuck that, he thought. No matter what, he’d always put Dylan and his comfort and safety first from now on. Even if that meant being vulnerable himself. He trusted that Dylan wouldn’t shoot him down or shut him out. Right?

Pulling his arms underneath him to rest on his elbows, he looked at straight at Dylan and said, “Ok. I know we’ve got a lot to talk about.” A perfectly arched brow was the only response he got from Dylan, as if to say “You think?”, but he plowed on. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, where do you want to start?”

Big blue eyes just blinked at him. Dylan wanted to laugh at him. Where to start? Where to start?! This whole situation was a joke, straight out of some fucked up Thomas Hardy (redundant, yes I know) novel. He didn’t do this. He kept people at a distance because you can’t trust anyone. In the infamous words of one Bob Kelso and Dr. Cox “People are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling.” Where to start. Acting on instinct, Dylan scoffed and rolled out of bed, missing the flash of hurt on Nathan’s face.

“Maybe this might not be the best time, Nathan. I’m mean you did beat the crap out of my uncle before we left. Don’t you think we should put that fire out first? Before we move forward, let’s take care of that then everything else later.”

What he said made sense. Nathan knew that. He just couldn’t help but feel like Dylan was avoiding the issue at hand. “Ok, Dylan.” he said, with a reluctance in his voice.

That scared Dylan. He didn’t want Nathan to pull away from him. Please be different, Nathan, he thought. Turning back and laying his hand on the small of Nathan’s back he looked earnestly in the face. “We will talk. I promise. I meant what I said Nathan. I love you and I don’t want to be without you. There’s just so much that’s happened and I don’t want to lose you because Riley decided to take revenge on you. Please just let me make things okay with him first. I’ll do whatever I got to do and then we can keep moving forward, okay? Together, right?”

Nathan sat up on his knees and pulled Dylan’s face into his hands and kissed him deeply. He could see the fear still there in young man’s eyes when he spoke of his family. After the soothing kiss, he pulled back to look deeply into Dylan’s eyes.

“Dylan, there is nothing ANYONE can do that is going to make you lose me. The only way that’ll happen is if you kick me to the curb, and even then, you’re gonna have a fight on your hands because I am never leaving you. And you’re not alone any more. God, Dylan, I can’t even imagine what you’ve had to do to make it on your own. But I swear to God, never again, baby. From now on, it’s me and you. You don’t have to face your father, your uncle, no one alone ever again. I promise you that. Together, right?”

Feeling warmth and affection was new to Dylan and so far beyond his wildest imagination that it was nothing short of breathtaking. He leaned back in for another soothing kiss from Nathan. He’d protect Nathan from that miserable fuck, Riley, if it was the last thing he did.