by Jaime Reese
"You can't do that!"
Everything was crumbling around him.
"I just did," Captain Jameson said with a sigh. "You stay the hell away from Vega's case. It's not your department, so you need to back away and let them do their job. You're lucky I notified the officers to keep you updated, but you're hands off, so stop calling them every hour. You work homicides. That's your focus. It's bad enough you get pulled into the other divisions and agency work with all these other cases you handle. Besides, I don't care how good you are, you'll get myopic and miss something. It's human nature."
"That's fucking bullshit," Aidan thundered, pacing the room like a caged animal and running his hand through his hair. "No one's going to work Jessie's case the way I would."
The captain rolled a pen between his fingers, watching Aidan intently. "I don't know what kind of relationship you have with this man, but—"
Aidan stopped pacing and returned the captain's stare with equal intensity. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
The captain tossed the pen into the cup holder and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk. "What aren't you telling me, Calloway?"
He didn't hide his sexuality, he refused to broadcast it. It was no one's fucking business and it didn't affect his work. Besides, nothing good ever came out of him being honest in the personal department.
"You can stare me down all you want, but I know there's something more there. People talk."
"And?"
The captain rubbed his balding head. "You know some gossip spreads faster than others, especially where cops are concerned."
"And?"
Harry stood and looked off to some random spot on the floor and shook his head. He finally met Aidan's eyes and his lips thinned. "You should have told me."
Maybe his silence would be a clear indication this subject was… Off. The. Fucking. Table.
The captain shook his head again. "You freaked people out during the call. Those guys have seen you a million times over the years and not once…not once"—he emphasized with a raised index finger—"have they ever seen you anything but steady and hard." He leaned forward, resting his palms on his desk. "You have them all talking, Aidan."
Great. The captain used the first name card. Lovely. His subtle way of begging Aidan to bend. Bend to what exactly? Who knew. If he remained silent long enough, maybe his captain would lose steam and drop the subject.
"They saw you crack. The ones who were there got a better picture and know the scene was a fucking mess and even tougher to swallow with a friend front and center. But the only thing people are hearing is that you cracked over a friend. A male friend. One who is obviously…gay."
Aidan straightened. Fuck being silent. "Obviously gay? How do you figure that?"
Harry squared his shoulders.
"You weren't there, so how do you know what did or didn't happen and what is and isn't obvious?"
"Aidan, don't—"
"Jessie is not as tall as we are. He's not as broad as we are. That doesn't mean he's obviously gay. It just means he's not as tall or as broad as we are. Period. Anything else anyone is deciding based on those bits of info is on them." Aidan scoffed and resumed his pacing, trying to determine what he should say. He could have a conversation with Harry and it would remain within these four walls, but how much exactly could he…or did he want to say? "This is exactly the kind of shit that creates all this other bullshit."
"You shouldn't have lied to me. I can head things off—"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. At what point did we crack open a beer and shoot the shit about whether I liked dick or not?" Yeah, he said that. Fuck it. He'd had enough of this bullshit.
Harry cringed.
"I didn't lie to anyone. People have the common sense not to ask me. Because it's no one's fucking business."
"You should have told me!"
"What would that have done?" Aidan leaned forward, gripping the back of the chair opposite the captain's desk until his knuckles whitened. "I get it. You're offering support here. But it's no one's fucking business. I hate labels, but now it seems everyone out there wants to brand me because of one thing. Maybe I should get a T-shirt—I like dick, just not yours. Maybe that'll get them to mind their own fucking business and get back to solving cases."
"You're overreacting."
"Overreacting? You have no idea what it's like. Everything changes and everything is that much more difficult. People talk about fairness and shit, but they don't want it in their backyard. It's no wonder my brother makes it a point of surrounding himself with people who don't have a problem with his preference. Just so he doesn't have to deal with all this shit and can focus on his work. I didn't choose it," Aidan said, slapping his chest with his fist. "It chose me. I've got to be tougher, stronger, harder than everyone else all because I'm fighting a fucking stereotype that's bigger than me. So excuse me if I need a reprieve and want to keep it to myself so I can just be me."
Harry pulled out his chair and sat. He pointed to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
Aidan bit back a complaint, biting down so hard he thought his jaw would crack. He didn't need this headache right now. Any of it. He just wanted…needed to get back to the hospital and be with Jessie, not fighting off the wolves because of what he felt for him.
"Sit," his captain insisted. "Please."
Aidan sat and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
"You're starting with the task force today."
Aidan shook his head. "I'm here to take time off not—"
Harry raised a halting hand. "Let me finish."
Aidan quieted.
"You're starting the task force today. I've already requested to have the case files copied so you can take a set with you so you're on the same page with the team. Do you have your laptop with you?"
Aidan nodded.
"Make sure you have Skype installed. You're going to use that as your virtual connection to them when you all pow-wow on a case."
"Harry—"
"I'm not finished."
Aidan leaned back in the chair and waited.
"I know you well enough to know you need to work right now. Because if you don't, you're going to snap. More than you already have. You're barely hanging on, and you look as if you haven't slept in weeks. You need to talk to someone. You keep putting it off and all this is building and it's going to explode when you least expect it." His captain quieted, lowering his brow. "You're good, Calloway. The best damn detective I've got here. And I'll gladly keep you while you talk to someone if it's voluntary and doesn't affect you in the field. But the moment it starts to affect your work and I demand you get help, you're off until you get the all-clear to return. And I don't want to see that happen because I need you here. So don't you dare argue with me on this because I will fight you tooth and nail. Understand?"
Aidan sighed. He hated when someone used logic against him.
"You'll meet with the group online on a daily basis, contribute. Once a week, you're coming in to the precinct for a one-hour sit-down meeting at the round table with them. That'll give you face time with them and a break from the hospital. Knowing you, I imagine you're going to pitch a tent and take up residence there until Vega is discharged. You'll need the break whether you're too stubborn to realize it or not. You'll work the case files until I feel you can focus in the field. I won't let you put yourself in harm's way until I know, with one-hundred-percent assurance, that your head is in the game again. Understand?"
Aidan reluctantly nodded. Logical bastard.
"And if someone gives you shit, report it."
"I don't snitch out—"
"You report it. Understand?"
Aidan frowned but finally nodded. He'd agree to anything right about now to end this conversation and return to Jessie's side.
"Now get your ass up off my chair and come with me so I can introduce you to the team." The captain stood and made his way to his office door.
; "I want to work Jessie's case."
Harry turned and crossed his arms. "I already told you, I can't do that. I'll make sure you're updated on anything we find out."
Aidan shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "What else have you found out?"
"Not much. We have the description Vega provided. When CSI processed the scene, they pulled DNA from the blood on the broken glass and the wall as well as some strands of hair they found. They all match the same suspect, but there's no match in CODIS for comparison."
Aidan ran his hands through his hair. "How can someone who's done this not have a damn record for something? Have you checked—"
The captain reached out and grabbed Aidan's shoulder. "We're not sitting on this, I promise you. We'll keep a guard posted at his door in the hospital until I can't justify it anymore. Okay?"
He hesitated but eventually nodded. He could grant his captain a little wiggle room while he got his head straight. His captain was a rock-solid guy and sure as hell wouldn't twiddle his thumbs waiting for something to happen. But damn it all to hell if they thought he was going to sit on the sidelines and go strictly on a play-by-play recap. There had to be some way he could be involved.
"Good, now let's meet your new best friends."
Aidan followed with a groan. More people. More curious, meddling people who probably didn't want to be anywhere near him.
Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
* * * *
"How'd it go?" Hunter asked when Aidan entered Jessie's room.
"I don't want to talk about it." He walked over to the corner and set his laptop and stack of files on the small round table.
"That bad?"
Aidan tossed his duffle bag on the chair and flipped open his laptop, powered it on and launched Skype. He sat in the chair and leaned back, absently glancing over at Jessie lying on the bed. "Any change?"
Hunter stood and walked over to him, leaning on the small round table that didn't seem as if it could hold the weight of much more. "You know he won't wake until they wean him off the meds. In the last hour while you were away, the doctor came in twice and three nurses have circled. They're watching him so you just need to sit back and give it time."
Sit back.
Wait.
Give it time.
Bend.
The exhaustion of hearing the same shit, over and over like a scratched record wore him down. Why the hell did things need to change? Why did fate need to come in and screw around with his semi-perfect world? Correction. It was a mainly fucked-up world, but whatever, he'd been able to dog paddle in that cesspool and survive. Why did something have to happen to Jessie? He could handle just about anything thrown at him… But why Jessie? He was always nice, always helpful, always—
"Stop it. Whatever is running through your mind, stop it the fuck right now."
Aidan looked up, blinking to focus on his friend's face. "Why did this have to happen to him?" Hunter was all-knowing in that odd paternal way, always righting the star alignments and making sense of things that didn't seem to balance in the world.
"Why does anything happen?"
Aidan grunted. "Don't get philosophical on my ass, please. I'm just trying to make sense of this."
Hunter took a seat in one of the neighboring chairs. "Sometimes, shit happens that doesn't make sense. If you try to find reason in an unreasonable situation, you'll drive yourself crazy. Focus on your work. Focus on being there for him. That's all you can do right now."
"I hate it when you use logic."
Hunter half smiled. "It's my secret weapon against you and Cam. You two always seem to think the world is out to punish you."
"Can you blame us for thinking that with everything you know?"
"No. I can't. But I also know the two of you well enough to know that neither of you could have done anything in this lifetime or the next to deserve what happened to either of you. So stop it. Karma works on debits and credits, and I'd say the both of you have had plenty of debits pulled out of your accounts. The credits are due. So give it a little time and stop fighting it. Just roll with it the best you can and reach out if you need a steady hand until it balances."
"Are you sure you're teaching law? Sounds like you're teaching higher world philosophy or some other metaphysical shit."
"Smartass. Focus on work and Jessie, but don't lose yourself in the process. Okay?"
Aidan nodded. Through all the bullshit and the crap pushing upstream lately, he was lucky enough to not have pushed away those around him who obviously cared enough to stand by his pissy personality through all this. He was thankful and had no way of repaying them for their support other than doing what everyone was telling him to do.
Focus, but don't lose focus.
Easier said than done.
Two weeks later
Aidan closed his eyes as he placed a gentle kiss to Jessie's forehead. Today was his forehead, but he'd mix it up with each cheek as well. Sanity commanded he maintain a routine. Each morning he'd wake, read Jessie the news from the morning paper, and then take a quick shower in the hospital bathroom to start his day.
Two weeks, he had watched the man he loved lie motionless on the hospital bed. The swelling had significantly gone down on his face and the bruises had transitioned from rich maroons and purples to browns and yellows. He had a thin scar cutting through one of his eyebrows and another he would be able to easily hide under his hair at his temple, but overall, the doctors had been right. The swelling in his brain had receded and his body was healing. The two broken ribs were mending on their own and the incision from the splenectomy was, thankfully, free of infection. Jessie now had a small titanium plate with screws for his broken wrist and a few plates and screws in his leg. All the surgical points were healing well so they were able to restrict any movement with full casts on his arm and leg. He would end up with a scar on both his leg and wrist from the plate implants, but supposedly, all the hardware would help him mend faster and better than a traditional cast alone. At least that was what they kept telling him.
Over and over.
They awaited the umpteenth round of medical results. If all went well, they'd finally ease Jessie out of the medical coma. Anxious didn't begin to summarize the jumble of nerves twisting his stomach on a daily basis, more so lately while he waited for the last set of results so they could finally test his breathing and get him off the ventilator. He was tired of hearing the rhythmic swooshing sound of that fucking machine and the consistent hum of oxygen flowing through it.
But not hearing those sounds would be far worse. Even he recognized the logic in that.
He hung the used towel back in the hospital bathroom then sat at the small round table that he'd repositioned next to Jessie's hospital bed. Hunter had kept him steady and grounded, but Aidan had to send him away after a few days. There was no way he could risk Hunter's safety any longer. He was more determined now than ever to wrap up Cam's case and get them back home. He flipped open his laptop and checked his email. He busied himself with work, either another file in Cam's case, a cold case requiring more research than the task force cared to contribute, or he'd Skype with the team to brainstorm on leads with current cases. His captain was right, he needed to work, anything to keep his focus off the what-ifs that plagued his mind—especially knowing they hadn't been able to find and arrest Michael Johnson. He had yelled at the detectives and had again been reprimanded by his captain. Harry had been understanding, far more than he would have ever imagined, but Aidan had to work to control his anger.
The anger that nearly boiled over to the point of no return when the captain informed him they had to pull the uniformed officer from Jessie's door after that first week. They could no longer justify taxpayer dollars for a guard. Aidan had nodded, then exited his captain's office, refusing to utter another word. He then contacted an old Marine friend of his and hired him to stand guard at Jessie's door. Someone who didn't need a weapon to do some damage.
Seeing Jessie slowly improving, at
least…put his mind at ease. Jessie was his priority. And making sure he was safe while he recovered was imperative. But he needed to work. Work had played a critical role in maintaining his sanity in the last two weeks. Seemed his captain did know him well after all. He wouldn't admit it openly, but he loved the Skype chats and agreed the team had made great strides. Except for Manny. The guy was just a fucking prick who took too much pleasure in delivering an occasional homophobic jab.
"Good morning, Aidan," the nurse said when she entered the room.
"Morning, Nancy."
He knew them all by name—all the nurses, doctors, techs, and random staff who entered the room. Regardless of the guard posted at the door, no one neared Jessie unless they were cleared by him. Hunter had been right. Aidan had planted virtual roots in the room during the last two weeks and refused to leave for more than an hour or two at a time but only if Cole swore to stand by Jessie's bed until he returned just in case there was any change.
He scanned his emails and responded to the most critical ones.
"Did you read him the news already?"
Aidan nodded. "I even managed to sneak in a little of the entertainment section."
"I'm sure he liked that."
"Has Dr. Green arrived yet?"
The nurse shook her head as she checked the monitors and jotted notes in Jessie's chart. "Not yet, but we're all on alert for when he does," she said, looking over her shoulder as she swapped out the IV bag from the pole.
Aidan returned his focus to an email from his captain. Another conference call today with the team in—he looked at the wall clock—fifteen minutes. He quickly responded, acknowledging the call, and downloaded the attachments to review. He responded to another message from his friend at the bureau with an update on Cameron's case. He absently glanced up to look at Jessie, closely watching Nancy adjust the pillows under Jessie's head then straightening the collar of his hospital gown. A soft smile tugged at his lips. Jessie would like that detail; a crooked collar would drive him nuts. He identified the two new markers he'd use until someone moved Jessie again. Markers that would let him know if Jessie shifted in the slightest. The tip of the "S" of the logo on the headboard just above his left ear and half of the "R" just past his right ear. He nodded to himself with the mental note and resumed typing his email reply.