Page 72 of No Rhyme or Riesling

John found himself grinning. He thought of Adam's first haircut again, how happy and free the boy had looked with his hair cut short. John almost laughed. He'd get to witness that again. See the breathtaking, utter joy on Adam's face once the boy woke to the reality that more unwanted parts were gone for good.

The nurse came in to say John could follow her back. A flurry of activity erupted as all the other men passed along their congratulations for Adam and their offers of help, no matter what John or Adam needed. John was grateful, though he barely heard it all, too eager to get to his boy. Finally, John found himself striding down the corridor, heart racing in anticipation.

He lurched to a stop when the nurse brought him to an open recovery space. There were a few beds there, but only one was occupied.

Christ. Adam looked so tiny. So fragile. But he was breathing, and his color was good. As John moved closer, he realized Adam's chest—Adam's gloriously flat chest—was only covered in a wide compression bandage wrapped around his torso, making the change brilliantly obvious.

John felt tears sting his eyes as another grin took over his face. He wanted Adam to wake upnow. To look down at himself and see that it had all been worth it.

As it was, John had to sit for several, long minutes before Adam showed any signs of stirring. John watched him intently. Would Adam come around slowly and confused, unable to immediately register where he was? Or would he simply wake up? John suddenly had flashbacks of getting his wisdom teeth removed, and the utter mind-fuck of missing time between first waking out of anesthesia and finally getting to go home.

Adam gave a little moan and shifted.

John sucked in a breath. He eyed the nurse sitting across from him, then pointed at Adam's chest while he lifted the handclosest to him. When the nurse nodded, John carefully rested Adam's hand over the compression bandage.

Adam let out another tiny, grunting moan, then gasped, his fingers twitching. He started to flatten out his hand, then froze, his arm tense and trembling.

“It's okay,” John murmured, leaning over him and running a hand through the boy's hair. “It's okay, baby.”

Adam sucked in a breath through his teeth, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. “Tell me I'm not dreaming,” he whispered. After a pause, he added, “Or dead.”

Instead of answering with words, John rested his hand over Adam's and gently pressed down, flattening the boy's fingers.

Adam let out a shuddering breath as tears began to stream down his temples.

“It's real,” John whispered. “You're not dreaming. Everything's fine.” When Adam squeezed his eyes shut tighter, John reached up and brushed the boy's tears away. “Open your eyes,” he ordered gently.

Adam's eyes flew open. He stared at John for a long moment, his lip trembling as fresh tears fell. Finally, he swallowed hard and said, “You're here.”

John smiled. He pulled Adam's hand up to his mouth and kissed the boy's knuckles. “I'll always be here.”

He released Adam's arm when the nurse stepped in and asked the boy how he was feeling. Then the nurse checked Adam's vitals and took his pulse, declaring everything looked good before she said she'd give them a minute while she went to start Adam's discharge papers.

As soon as they were alone, John blurted out, “Why did you say it?”

Adam frowned in confusion.

Shit. Was the boy not fully awake? Was he still coming out of the effects of anesthesia? But then Adam's brow smoothed as understanding dawned on his face.

“It was bothering me all weekend,” Adam began slowly, “except I couldn't quite figure out what it was. It didn't hit me until they started to wheel me away, and all I could think about was what if this is the last moment I ever get to see you? What if I don't wake up? What if something goes wrong?”

John grabbed Adam's hand and squeezed. “But it's fine. Everything's fine.”

“I know,” Adam replied with a nod, “but then it finally hit me. If the fire had been worse—if you hadn't made it—you would have died without ever hearing me call youDaddy. And then I thought, here we are again, in a situation where it might be the last chance. And as hard as it was, I knew I couldn't bear the thought of you never hearing me say it. So it had to be then. Even if you only ever got to hear it that one time, I knew I wanted you to have that before it was too late.” Adam paused, his eyes shimmering with tears again. “There were so many things I never got to say to my dad. I didn't want the same thing to happen with you. Especially because I knew how much it meant to you.” By the time he finished, Adam was sobbing.

John pulled him into his arms, letting the boy cry, telling him how much he loved him, how he wasn't going anywhere. Then he pressed Adam back onto the bed and rested his hand on the boy's chest, repeating the words, “Everything is fine.”

Adam choked out another sob, but it was paired with the biggest smile John had ever seen. The boy finally looked down and touched his own chest, carefully prodding the compression bandage. “Oh my god. John! They're gone! They're really gone!”

“You did it, baby,” John murmured, resting their foreheads together as they looked down at Adam's body. “You were so brave. I'm so proud of you.”

The words seemed to come out automatically while John's mind still reeled. He felt like he was operating on autopilot again as he helped Adam get dressed and then drove to Adam's apartment. John's place would have been better for a quiet recovery, but Adam's apartment was closer to the hospital, just in case something went wrong. And it was already set up for Adam's post-op limitations. Plus, it would be easy for his friends to visit him there.

Except John was almost painfully aware of Frank Barnes's presence the moment he walked through the front door. More so than any other time he'd been there. Like he'd been half-expecting to run into the man somehow. He realized that feeling had been plaguing him all day, sitting there quietly but ever-present in the back of his mind.

John felt his heart beat pick up. He knew it was time.

He got Adam settled, checking the post-op instructions and the medication schedule before he helped Adam into bed. John arranged the pillows so Adam could sleep sitting up, since the boy wouldn't be allowed to lie flat for at least a few days. He pulled the sheets over Adam's lap and kissed him on the forehead.

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