Page 7 of Hold Me Down

"I don't think you can do anything." Dave's voice was tight but even. "It is what it is, now."

Fucked, Travis thought, closing his eyes briefly.

What it was was completely fucked.

* * *

Travis barely waited for the permission from the paramedic to climb into the back of the ambulance and settle next to Dave, who had gone completely quiet aside from answering the paramedics' questions.

Kalei stepped closer and glanced between the two of them.

"I'll see you at the hospital," was all he said before the ambulance driver shut the door, but Travis could tell there was much more coming, and he wasn't looking forward to any of it.

"We're screwed," Dave muttered, as if reading his mind.

The paramedic shook his head.

"While the break doesn't look great, it might not be as bad as you're thinking."

Dave hummed and slumped onto the bed, gaze fixated on the ceiling, and Travis tried to find something to say, but he couldn't think of anything.

For perhaps the first time in his entire adult life, his mind was blank. There was nothing. Not a quip, not a tease, not even a poorly-worded expression of genuine concern, which wouldn't come close to what Travis was truly feeling.

Nothing.

"Tell me immediately if you start feeling dizzy or nauseous," the paramedic continued as he typed something on the tablet in his hands. "Otherwise, keep tight, and we'll get you to the hospital as soon as possible."

Swallowing back a nasty retort—the paramedic wasn't at fault here and Travis knew that, heknew—he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He was itching to reach out and touch Dave, but he felt like he couldn't, which was yet another kick in the teeth.

They had no concept of personal space between them practically from the moment they'd met, and now, it suddenly felt like there was a wall there, keeping Travis separate.

Keeping Dave safe.

Which sounded stupid, perhaps, but Dave was hurt because of him, because of Travis's big mouth, and his bluster, and his never-ending need to—

"Jeez, shut up," Dave said with a glare that almost made Travis pull back from the force of it. "I can practically hear you whining."

This would be a perfect place to throw a joke about Dave being the one who liked whining and moaning under the right circumstances, but the words got stuck in Travis's throat.

Dave huffed. "I mean it."

Get it together, come on, just get it together.

"I'm more of a brooding type," Travis finally offered, and when a shadow of a smile passed Dave's face, it became easier to take the next breath.

"You wish."

"I am!"

"Jeremy's the brooding type, and you're nothing like him."

Travis shook his head. "I'm not the whining type, either."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"See, I'm glad you could see things my way."

"It's either that, or go on arguing, and the meds haven't kicked in yet."

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