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“Matts!”
Johnathan’s voice echoed in the hallway, circling the tile, reverberating off of metal carts. Everyone turned to look at him, concerned for a moment that his fear would catch somehow. That he brought with him chaos and catastrophe, but he rushed toward Matthew seated in the hallway without stopping to pay them any mind and soon they went back to their own business, forgetting that he’d ever disturbed them. Matthew narrowed his eyes, tried to focus his blurred vision through the shards of too bright light in the hallway and sighed.
“Who called you?” he asked, acutely aware by the sudden look of offense on Johnathan’s face that it was the wrong thing to say. He clearly had a concussion, that would be his excuse should he need one.
“Jen, she said you were in hospital…”
“I’m fine. You don’t need to be here, I’ve got to get back to work. She insisted I come get checked out and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He may have been her superior, but she was a force of nature and more than a little scary when she put her foot down. She promised that she would wait for him before making any moves, they would just monitor the situation and make sure that nothing happened in the meantime. Every minute that ticked by achingly slow gave him a rise of panic that Dennis would disappear before they could get there, make the arrest he so knew would come if he could just get Grace to talk, and he was inching ever closer to just washing his face up in the bathroom sink and leaving without being seen. Grace was waiting at the station ready to be interviewed and he was sitting here waiting to be tended to. It really didn't make sense to him.
With Johnathan here, though, he would find that more difficult. More than likely that had been Jen’s angle. She was also more than a little concerned about the two of them and perhaps rightly so. He didn't have the ability to consider that too closely, think too hard on it right now.
Matthew hated the look on Johnathan’s face. Something that flashed hot with anger and then melted into sadness and worry, wondering perhaps if Matthew was telling him to leave because he was ashamed to be seen with him or if he was simply too wrapped up in work to care that there was blood running down his forehead from a gash in his scalp just beneath his hairline. Crimson matted and sticky in his chestnut curls. It wasn’t exactly rare, in his line of work, to get tossed around a bit but some part of Johnathan had thought maybe moving here would make it happen less frequently. Things were so quiet, not nearly like the city. He’d been lulled into a false sense of security.
Johnathan, to his credit, didn’t much care whether Matthew wanted him there in the end. He sat on the bench beside his husband and reached up, flicking the blood matted hair away from the wound and frowning at what he saw. It was deep and painful, would almost certainly require stitching up. Would probably leave a scar. “What happened?”
“Dennis,” was the short reply. He didn’t feel much like elaborating, his head was a buzzing angry wasp’s nest and the words he wanted were being batted around on the gale force created by their wings. He closed his eyes against the incessant stabbing of the light and relished the almost instant relief.
“Bastard.”
Matthew, resigned to the fact that Johnathan had no intention of leaving, heaved a sigh and tipped ever so slightly to the side until his cheek rested against the mound of his husband’s shoulder. “I really do need to get back.”
“Well I’ll drive you then, you’re in no condition to do it yourself. I’m not leaving and you’re a silly twat to even think you could get rid of me.”
Matthew smiled at the absurdity of the statement. At the absurdity of a man like him ending up with a man like Johnathan at all. God sure had a strange sense of humor, to hate him so much and give him such a gift at the same time.
“Are you alright?”
“My head hurts,” Matthew replied matter-of-factly. Johnathan chuckled and kissed the top of Matthew’s head. It was an easy, automatic movement. Swift and careful, before smiling against the crown of curls there and breathing him in. When Jen had called, she sounded so frantic, he’d been afraid. It wasn’t a new feeling but he really thought they’d left that behind. Naive of him. Matthew’s job was dangerous, and crime happened everywhere. He really just thought they’d have more time before it started again. Six months hardly felt long enough.
“Of course it does, sweetheart. You do know you’re bleeding?” A little sarcasm would help lighten the mood, maybe make Matthew forget for a moment that he still had work to do. Make him forget for a moment that he’d suspected Johnathan of knowing more than he let on, of hiding things from him. It worked.
“Had a hunch. Is it bad?”
“Disgusting, really. I can barely look at you.” A lie, he hadn’t stopped looking at Matthew since he showed up. The day he didn’t want to look at his husband would be the day the Hell of his mother’s church froze over.
“You’ll still have me though?”
Johnathan scoffed and gave Matthew’s shoulders a squeeze, blinking tears from his eyes rapidly. “Have I got a choice?”
“No.”
“Matthew Venn?” came a sharp voice from a few feet away, interrupting their playful banter. Matthew sighed, glad to be able to get on with things but not wanting to move at all. His entire body was heavy and sore, his legs like concrete. He really was in no shape to go back to work and yet...he would have to be. And sooner rather than later. If he hadn’t let Jen bully him into coming to hospital, he’d be fine, he would have been coursing with enough adrenaline to carry him through but now he’d stopped and his motors were just about running on empty.
Nearby the nurse stood, her clipboard poised in front of her while she waited for him to move. “Let’s get you cleaned up shall we? Are you able to walk on your own?”
“I am.” Whether he was or not didn’t matter, he would simply will it to be so.
Johnathan squeezed his shoulder and kissed him on the head once more. He knew he could follow if he wanted, they were married and he didn’t need to worry about that but Matthew was so private, and this case hit too close to home. His father’s death hadn’t even had a chance to settle over him before he was swept up in work. He was desperately seeking some kind of peace where he could get it, what little scraps he could find. Letting him go in alone, sit there quietly contemplating what he had to do next while they cleaned him up would help. He would have time to think, to plan, to turn everything else off.
It hurt him, staying in that seat when he wanted to stand and follow, to hold Matthew’s hand. Every time he had to watch Matthew walk away felt like a trust exercise...would he come back more broken, more ashamed than when he left? After all the work they did, this place was chipping away at him in ways Johnathan knew were necessary but painful. And if there was even a hint of invitation on Matthew’s face when he looked back he’d be standing and following so quickly it would make his head spin, he knew that for certain.
It didn’t happen, and he found he wasn’t surprised. “I’ll wait right here.”
“Thank you,” Matthew whispered as he stood, swaying a little on his feet. He gathered himself, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before offering a small forced smile. There was gratefulness in it, and pain. Johnathan reached out and took his hand, fingers brushing against his ring with intention. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Hurry back.”
The nurse smiled and nodded at him as she ushered Matthew down the hallway toward the exam rooms, leaving him to sit alone on the bench. The symphony of voices echoed down the hallway and Johnathan leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that things were going to be okay.
Again.