by K. Sterling
“You’ll be there?” He asked hoarsely and Parker nodded as he felt his self control slipping.
“As soon as they’ll let me.” He promised and Ross relaxed.
Bryan and Parker watched as they wheeled Ross into an ambulance and secured his bed and made sure he was comfortable. As soon as the doors shut, Parker grabbed Bryan and ran for the car.
“I wasn’t expecting him to be so out of it.” Parker said as he craned his neck to keep his eye on Ross’ ambulance. Bryan cringed.
“Part of that’s the morphine. The rest of it’s probably anti-nausea medicine.” Bryan explained. “He’s fine flying as long as he can look out a window and he’s upright. He can’t sleep on a plane. The trip back must have been rough for him, so they probably kept him looped so he wouldn’t throw up all over the place.” He grabbed Parker’s hand and squeezed. “We’ve got him back. That’s all that matters.” Bryan said and Parker nodded as he tried to forget how disoriented and upset Ross sounded before they put him in the ambulance.
Parker held Ross’ hand until he drifted off. He’d become a bit more coherent as they settled him into his room but he was still receiving a high dose of morphine. No one had addressed Ross’ wounds and Parker’s eyes kept darting between Ross’ chest and leg. Both were covered by blankets and sheets and he’d avoided staring while Ross was awake. He looked back at Ross’ face and it was relaxed and his eyes were still shut. You should look now. You don’t want to upset him if you can’t hold it together the first time you see them. Parker nodded slightly and his hand shook as he pulled the blankets away from Ross’ side. He carefully lifted the side of Ross’ gown and frowned at the padding taped against his side. Parker only knew the basics of the human anatomy but he knew that it had to be a miracle, the bullet must have gone in at just the right angle to avoid hitting anything critical. Prickling heat washed over Parker and it felt like the floor buckled beneath him as he gently settled Ross’ gown and blankets back in place. He moved lower, down the bed and took a deep breath before he lifted the bedding and draped it back, baring the bandaged stub of Ross’ left leg. He slowly moved to the foot of the bed before he actually looked at it.
Oddly, Parker wasn’t as upset by Ross’ leg as he was about the white square of gauze taped to Ross’ chest. He folded his arms over his chest and frowned at the stump and waited for something dramatic to happen within him. All he saw was months of hard work, for Ross and for himself. There would be a lot of pain and it would be exhausting but they’d get through it and Ross would be as strong and healthy as before.
“How bad is it?” Ross’ voice was gravelly and soft but Parker jumped. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” He asked again and Parker sighed as he stared at Ross’ leg again.
“Maybe a three or a four. I overheard a nurse mention giving you more antibiotics for infection. Hopefully that will clear it up.” Parker said and Ross shook his head.
“Not that. I mean my leg, as a whole. Well, clearly it isn’t anymore. But, me, with half of my leg gone.” He explained and Parker’s brows pulled together as he tried to make sense of what Ross was asking him.
“Obviously, I’m so sorry that this happened and I wish that it hadn’t. But I’m so damn proud of what you did and more grateful than you can imagine that you survived. The leg itself doesn’t bother me, personally. Well, aside from the fact that I know you’re in incredible pain and I worry about how this will effect you mentally and emotionally. But, it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. It doesn’t alter the way I see you.” Parker insisted and Ross nodded. Parker sensed that he wasn’t convinced.
“I think all of that might wear off when the reality of living with this sets in.” Ross said and Parker shook his head and pointed at Ross’ chest.
“That’s enough of a reality check. All I’ll have to do is look at that scar and realize how close you came to never coming home and your leg won’t seem like that big of a deal.” Parker said and Ross shut his eyes and exhaled loudly.
“I didn't think I was going to make it and I was so scared of what that would do to you.” He whispered and Parker rushed around the bed and reached for Ross. He stopped just before he grabbed his shoulders and groaned as he tried to figure out where it was safe to touch Ross.
“Over here.” Ross raised his left arm and Parker dashed around the bed. “Just avoid my leg, if you can.” He reached for Parker and pulled him close. Parker bent over, gently laying across Ross’ chest. He carefully rested his head on Ross’ right shoulder and moaned happily as his face fell into the corner of Ross’ neck. Ross’ left arm wrapped around Parker and a deep sigh left him. “I would have gone though worse just for this.” He whispered shakily and Parker’s eyes flooded with tears.
“I’m never letting you go again.” Parker promised. “I love you so much and we’re going to get through this.” He felt Ross nod and his arm tightened around Parker.
“I know.” Ross voice was a hard rasp. “I love you too, Parker.”
Chapter 32
“I heard you the first fucking time.” Ross muttered under his breath as he leaned against the counter and opened the pill bottle. His crutches started to fall and Ross grabbed them just in time. Thankfully, he didn’t dump the bottle in the process. Then, he’d have to call for Parker. Ross frowned at the label. It was a lower dose of Percocet but he still didn’t like it. He was tired of feeling floaty and his skin itching. After weeks of being out of his mind stoned and weeks of being half conscious, Ross just wanted to feel normal again. Well, as close to normal as he could. He set two pills on the counter and swung the fridge door open and grabbed a bottle of water.
“Did you find the colder bottles on top?” Parker asked from the living room. “I just put the ones on the bottom shelf in about half an hour ago.” He repeated and Ross shook his head in exasperation.
“For fuck’s sake, Parker!” Ross yelled. “It’s just fucking water.” He tossed the pills in his mouth and took a long drink from the bottle. He preferred room temperature water but he wasn’t about to shatter Parker’s whole universe over that.
Ross reminded himself that Parker meant well and he was doing everything he could to make Ross happy. He felt a stab of guilt over his outburst. Parker took being thoughtful to a whole new level as Ross’ fuse got shorter and shorter. But, holy shit, Parker was everywhere. He said that he wasn’t going to let Ross go and it looked like he was taking that vow very seriously. Parker went to every doctor’s appointment and every therapy session. He served Ross all of his meals and was there when Ross dressed and he even hovered until he was sure that Ross was safely seated on the toilet. Parker’s never ending supply of encouragement and patience was wearing on Ross. If he could just get a little time alone or maybe do something for himself, he wouldn’t feel like snapping at Parker every time he opened his mouth.
It didn’t help that everyone was telling Ross what to do and he had no control over anything. No one understood that he knew his body and its limits better than anyone else. The therapists and doctors were constantly limiting his reps and calling sessions early. It had taken weeks to get on top of the infections and for his stitches to close completely so he could start training with a prosthetic leg. Now, it was taking weeks to get it to fit right and for it to be comfortable enough for Ross to train on. Ross just wanted a working leg so he could be independent again. He could accept that his leg was gone but he couldn’t accept being an invalid. Especially with Parker. He was supposed to be giving Parker the perfect life he deserved, not being a burden.
The air was filled with sharp, deafening bursts of noise and the ground shook. Ross grunted as he lifted Burke, the pilot, from his seat and fell back, pulling him free of the cockpit. They stumbled as Ross shifted and adjusted, trying to get a good grip on Burke as he got a shoulder under his arm. Ross grabbed a handful of his vest and heaved, dragging Burke away from the downed helicopter. Searing pain exploded in Ross’ side but he kept his eyes trained on He
ctor and Jones as he pulled a half conscious Burke along. Jones was screaming as he fired on the compound behind Ross and Hector was yelling into a receiver.
There was a high pitched twhip and then everything was bright as Ross’ feet came off the ground and he was hurled toward the wall and the members of his team that had been in the helicopter with him. He tried to wrap his body around Burke’s, shielding him from the explosion and impact. They had to land, eventually. It felt like Ross was flying through the air for several moments. He blinked at the sky as he waited for his body to crash into hard, dusty, unforgiving earth. The night was a deep indigo and strewn with large, clear stars. So beautiful. Parker’s eyes, endless and shimmering, as they whispered and laughed in the middle of the night pushed the world away and Ross felt his lips curve. Pain engulfed Ross’ lower body and he roared as he slammed into the ground. Hector was firing over Ross and Burke, giving them cover as he called to Ross. Raging pain saturated every inch of Ross’ body and everything was silent as he stared at the sky. I wish Parker could see this. The stars are all backwards and the blue is almost as beautiful as his eyes, he thought. Burke twisted against Ross’ side as he started to regain consciousness.
“I’m think I’m dying.” He murmured as he clutched at Ross. Ross shook his head as he rolled over and surveyed around them.
“No. You’re good. Let’s go.” Ross yelled. He got one leg under him and tried to pull the other one up and put weight on it but his chest and shoulder crashed into the ground as he fell forward. Ross groaned as rocks and dirt dug into his chin and cheek. He pushed off with his hands and tried again. One of his legs wasn’t working and he couldn’t feel it. Ross refused to look as he rolled onto his side and grabbed hold of Burke’s vest and pushed him toward the guys on the other side of the wall. Ross crawled to Burke and threw him again and kept crawling. As soon as they were close enough, Jones and Hector ducked around the wall and dove for Ross and Burke.
“Is everyone else ok?” Ross yelled at Hector as he pulled Ross behind the wall.
“The other helicopter got out safe. We’re all good back here but we need to move everyone back before air support comes in.” Hector said as he slipped his belt around Ross’ leg and pulled tight. Ross nodded and kept his eyes on Hector.
“Over there.” Ross pointed at the remnants of a small building. It was only a few walls and sections of a collapsed roof but it would be adequate cover without boxing them in. Hector yelled at Jones and he nodded in agreement before he jogged over and wrapped his arms around Ross’ chest and lifted him.
“Hang on!” Jones yelled as he threw Ross over his shoulder. Ross didn’t have time to object, to order Jones to take care of Burke and the rest of the men before he was dashing through the clearing toward their new shelter. Jones dove and Ross grunted as he slammed into the ground again.
“Prop me up and give me my gun, we have to give them cover.” Ross said as he tried to pull himself up so he could see over the mud wall.
“Here.” Jones helped Ross set up his firing position and they aimed at the compound behind Hector and the rest of their team. As soon as everyone made it across, Hector called in the compound.
“They said it should be about five minutes.” Hector yelled and Ross’ lips pulled tight as he tried to estimate how much ammunition they had and how long they could hold off.
“Hold your fire!” Ross yelled. “Don’t let them get any closer but don’t fire unless you see them moving in.” He pressed his hand to his side and a warm gush of fluid spilled over his fingers. Ross swore as he frantically wiped his hand on his pants. “How’s Burke?” He called to Hector and he nodded before he tossed Ross a fresh clip.
“I think we’ve got him stabilized. How are you holding up?” Hector asked and Ross shrugged.
“Don’t worry about me. We need to hang onto this clusterfuck until Mark gets back.” He saw Hector cringe and he agreed. It was going to take a while. Jets streaked overhead and Ross covered his ears and ducked his head. He squeezed his eyes shut but the world still erupted in blinding light and everything shook as a wave of blistering heat washed over them.
When Ross raised his head and looked over the wall, the compound was obscured by dust and smoke and the smell of burning wood and bodies. The silence was eerie and heavy as Ross rested his chin on the wall and scanned as the air cleared. Screaming men called for others as they crawled and stumbled away from the flattened building. Their voices faded as they retreated and Ross sighed in relief as he slid down the wall. Everything tilted and his lips felt cold.
“Jones.” Ross called as the last of his strength dissolved.
“What’s up, man?” He asked as he squatted next to Ross. Ross grabbed his arm as he let his head fall to the ground.
“I got shot. I think I’m bleeding out.” Ross murmured as he patted his side. There was a soggy, wet squish and Jones gasped.
“Jesus, Ross!” Jones yelled as he tugged off his vest and pulled his shirt over his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He complained as he wadded up his shirt and pressed it against Ross’ side. Ross tried to laugh but there wasn’t enough air.
“We were kind of busy.” He explained and Jones called him a smart ass. “We should be good now. Whatever’s left, we’ve got enough to hold them back until Mark comes.” Ross grabbed Jones’ hand and held it as tight as he could. “I know you don’t agree with it but if I don’t make it, could you please make sure Parker knows…” Ross was cut off when Jones shook his head.
“Don’t fucking say it.” His eyes were wide as they held Ross’. “I’m sorry, man. Everything I said, it was all bullshit. Mark was right, none of that matters. I’ll tell Parker you love him and whatever else you want but it’s not going to come to that, got it?” Jones asked as he squeezed Ross’ hand. Ross tried to nod but he was too tired, his body was too weak. “You’re going to make it and you can tell him all that sweet, gay shit yourself. And when you two get married, I’ll be your fucking flower boy.” Jones promised and Ross’ lips curved into a hint of a grin as everything around him went black.
Ross sat up and gasped for breath as his chest heaved. He reached for his side and it was dry, the skin was warm and the scar was raised and smooth. He looked to his left and Parker was sleeping. A shaft of moonlight fell over his face and naked chest and pain streaked through Ross. He was so beautiful and perfect. Ross ached as his mind replayed the minutes before he lost his leg, trying to find some way to go back, to buy himself a few more minutes, to get himself just a little farther away from the helicopter so he could be whole and everything that Parker deserved. Ross fell back on the pillows and his eyes burned as he stared at the ceiling and tears flooded his vision. No matter how hard he wished he could have done something differently, it wouldn’t change anything. His leg was gone and he was never going to be whole again. Ross ground his teeth to keep from yelling and his hands clutched at his hair to keep from punching the bed as rage tore through him. Parker mumbled something in his sleep and his hand slid across Ross’ stomach as he scooted closer. More tears scalded Ross’ eyes as he clung to Parker’s arm.
Are you really going to sentence him to this for the rest of his life? He’s too good to leave but he can’t want this. Are you that selfish? Ross’ stomach clenched and burned as he accepted that he was, that he still didn’t have the strength to let Parker go.
Chapter 33
The shower stopped and Parker leaned against the door and listened. After Ross’ recent outbursts and generally surly mood, Parker was trying to give him a little more space. He got it. Well, as much as someone that’s never lost a limb could. On top of losing half of his leg, Ross’ recovery and rehabilitation weren’t going as smoothly as they would have hoped. They were still having problems fitting the prosthetic leg. They had spent the morning in physical therapy and the model they had been trying to fit just wasn’t going to work. They couldn’t get it comfortable enough for Ross to wear for more than a few minutes at a tim
e.
Seeing Ross in pain as he tried to move with the prosthetic was gut wrenching for Parker. But it was the frustration and disappointment that was breaking his heart. The visits to the therapist now consisted of an hour or two of watching Ross clench his teeth, grunt and swear until he was pale, exhausted and soaked with sweat and the doctors and therapist called an end to his efforts. Ross would keep going, if it were up to him. Every time he left without the new leg, it was devastating. The long ride home was miserable. Ross would pretend to curl up against the window and fall asleep but Parker knew he was crying. Which left Parker pretending he didn’t know so he couldn’t comfort him. Ross was becoming more withdrawn and resistant to being comforted and cared for. So, Parker was trying to give him a little more space, hoping it was like one of those stages of grief that Ross just had to get through. Parker was determined to ride it out and do as much as he could, where he could, without upsetting Ross. But, the shower made him nervous. Unfortunately, Ross ordered Parker out after he hobbled into the bathroom with his crutches, insisting he could manage on his own.
There was a high rubber squeak, a clatter and a loud slapping sound. Parker’s heart stopped and he heard Ross curse and he squeezed his eyes shut as he debated whether or not he should go in. The silence held for several moments and Parker decided he had to check on Ross. When he pushed the door open, Ross was sprawled on the floor, on his back and his hands were fisted in his hair. Parker wanted to cry, despite the last few months, it wasn’t getting easier to see Ross in pain.
“Would you please, just leave?” He wheezed and Parker shook his head.
“No. Let me help you up.” Parker stated as he went to Ross but halted when Ross glared at him and waved him away.
“Why can’t you back off? Why do you always have to be underfoot?” He gasped as he twisted and got his hands and knee beneath him.