Page 44 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Please tell me those are my release forms,” Bobby asked hopefully as he sat up farther in the bed.

The nurse gave him a smile and then a fake pout. “You didn’t like visiting with us?”

Bobby tried to return the smile, but Tommy could tell it was forced. “You’ve all been great, thanks, but between the catheter yesterday and the peep-show nightgown, I’m ready to go home.”

She was already working on his IV, pulling it out carefully and putting a small bandage over the back of his hand. “I guess I can’t blame you,” she said with another smile.

It sounded like a rehearsed conversation, and Tommy figured she probably had similar banter several times a day with different people.

She cut the hospital bracelet off his wrist and taped it to the forms. “I’m going to leave this here with your paperwork. If you need to come back for any reason at all, try to bring this with you.”

Bobby nodded, but Tommy guessed if they needed to bring him back in for anything, Bobby might lose his temper and start his own shooting spree.

“Here’s your information about wound care at home and what to look for, signs of infection and such. You need to follow up with your regular doctor in three days.” She pointed at the page. Bobby glanced at it and nodded his head again. “And”—she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brown paper bag and set it on the table by his bed—“these are your pain meds. You have one refill, but you probably won’t need anything stronger than ibuprofen after the first week.”

“Got it,” Bobby said, trying to get up. She had him sign and initial more papers and then turned to leave. “Is that it? I can go now?”

“You can get dressed now. I’ll be back in a few minutes to wheel you down to the parking lot,” she told him cheerfully.

“I got shot in the arm. I’m pretty sure I can make it down to the garage.”

The nurse tossed her blonde hair off her shoulder and laughed. “Hospital policy. Think of it this way: if you tripped and hit your head on your way to the car, we’d have to keep you another day.”

“Wheelchair it is.” Bobby started to push the blanket back, but he waited for her to leave the room first.

Tommy leaned back and waited as well. He couldn’t get out of the hospital soon enough. He hadn’t been a fan of them before, but after last night he thought he could go his whole life without stepping foot in another one. “I think she’s just disappointed she can’t give you a sponge bath.”

Bobby laughed and glanced over his shoulder as he got out of bed. “Enrique, an alarmingly attractive male nurse, beat her to the punch this morning.”

Tommy covered his face with his hand, feeling a rush of desire at the image. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous or ask for video footage.”

“Neither, trust me.” Bobby said as he pulled on his jeans that had been sent from home. “It was one of the least sexy things to ever happen to me. Even if I was single, I don’t think I could get it up at the idea.”

Tommy watched him get dressed. He was so relieved to be sitting there, having this conversation—any conversation—with Bobby, he couldn’t think straight. When Tommy didn’t comment, Bobby looked over his shoulder again.

“You still with me?”

Tommy got out of the chair and walked toward Bobby. “Nowhere I’d rather be right now,” he said, the barefaced honesty not even making him flinch.

Bobby had only managed to get his jeans on. His shirt was bunched up in a fist and he looked so shocked at Tommy’s words it was almost comical. Tommy wrapped his arms around Bobby and pulled him close. He didn’t like the smell—it was all wrong. It was the smell of sterile soap and other people and a hint of blood from a wound that had barely begun to heal. He took a deep breath anyway. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Between the lack of sleep and the terror of the night before, Tommy felt like he was ready to fall apart.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tom,” Bobby whispered to him. The shock seemed to have worn off, and Bobby wrapped his arm around him. “Most cops in our district don’t even see as much action as I did last night. There’s no way it’ll happen twice to me, okay?”

Tommy had his face buried against Bobby’s neck. He didn’t say anything, but he nodded his head. He hated caring so much about another person. He hated having Bobby’s life in the hands of strangers every day. He hated that he couldn’t change the way he felt. “Okay,” he whispered on a rough breath.

Bobby was about to say something else, but the door opened, and the nurse came in with a wheelchair.

“Knock, knock, your chariot is ready.” She stopped when she found them wrapped around each other. “Need another minute?”

Her face was so impassive Tommy figured she was a little offended by what she’d walked in on. Fuck her if she didn’t like it.

“No, we’re good,” he told her as Bobby struggled to pull his shirt over his head with one good arm.

The nurse pushed the chair farther into the room and turned it around to face the door. “Got all of your personal belongings?”

Tommy was picking up the things he knew were Bobby’s and putting them in the big plastic bag the hospital had provided. “Got it all right here.” He looked around again and asked Bobby, “Where’s your uniform?”

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