Chapter 24

_________

ADAM

ADAM CAME awake with a jolt of panic. He gasped and looked around, trying to get his mind to catch up with what he was seeing.

John lay sound asleep in the hospital bed. Adam sank back into the chair with a heavy sigh, waiting for his racing heart to slow down.

Holy shit . Adam rubbed his eyes, then stared at John, watching every rise and fall of the man's chest. Even asleep, John looked exhausted. The doctor said that John was going to be fine, but Adam wasn't sure he'd truly believe it until he was allowed to take the man home. At least John was actually sleeping. That in itself was something, especially considering the unfamiliar surroundings and the constant noise and light that never fully went away, no matter how much the staff tried to keep things quiet and dim.

Adam refused to leave John's side, dozing in a chair by the hospital bed. He was starving, but he didn't care. Ever since that call came in from Morgan last night—the words John and fire and ambulance all seeming to stab him right in the chest—Adam couldn't think of anything other than to make sure John was going to be okay. He didn't care about food or needing to use the bathroom or anything else so mundane. Anything other than John's life didn't matter.

How Adam had made it to the hospital without getting a speeding ticket or causing an accident was beyond him. Morgan had even started the phone call with the insistence that Adam not panic, that Morgan was getting in his car to go pick him up. But Adam knew he couldn't wait that long. His heart wouldn't have survived even the few minutes it would take for Morgan to drive into town to come get him.

Adam's phone vibrated in his pocket. He almost ignored it, not wanting to take his gaze off John for even a moment, but then it vibrated again. Adam groaned and pulled out the device, blinking at the time on the screen. It was just after five in the morning. Adam unlocked the phone and found a new text from Morgan.

Morgan : Morning. How are you? How's John?

Me : Fine. Sleeping. Why are you up so early?

Morgan : Getting ready for work. :P (BTW, I miss you there so much!)

Adam winced. Shit . Of course Morgan would be going to work. Adam himself would be doing the same at that hour if he hadn't stupidly lost his job.

He eyed John, then quickly sent another text.

Me : Thank you for calling me last night. And for coming to check on him.

Morgan : Of course. You guys are family.

Adam almost smiled at that. Thank goodness, both Morgan and Everett had been home last night when the fire broke out. They'd heard the sirens, smelled the smoke, then drove across the vineyard, staying away from the action but getting close enough to see the fire crew haul John away while getting the fire contained. Even though Adam hadn't waited for him, Morgan still came into town to get him, then went to join him at the hospital instead. Everett had stayed behind to speak with the fire chief once the blaze was fully contained, then followed after Morgan, arriving at the hospital just after John had finally gone to sleep.

Everett had caught Adam up on what happened, but Adam had barely listened. Something about rampant weeds on a neighbor's property, plus high winds bringing the flames across the fence line. Everett said he'd tell them all about it once John recovered and came back to work after Adam's surgery, and Adam was under strict instructions not to bother John with the details in the meantime.

Adam fully intended to obey that order. Just as soon as John was released, Adam was going to take him home and put him straight to bed so the man could get more rest.

Though it seemed to take forever to get to that point, even after hospital activity began to wake up all around him. There were more tests to run. More checkups. More endless questions about how John felt. Finally, around midday, John was given release papers to sign, only to realize he had nothing to wear for the drive home. His clothes had been cut off of him the night before.

Adam squirmed in his seat. "I don't wanna leave you here."

John patted his hand. "I'll be fine, baby. I'm fine. Why don't you drive out to the vineyard? It's closer than my place. Or yours. Just grab the overnight bag in the back seat of my truck."

Adam winced. "Yeah. About that."

John's face fell. "Now what?"

"Your truck sorta got caught up in the fire," Adam told him. He remembered that much from what Everett had explained last night.

John closed his eyes and sighed. "Christ."

"I'll buy you a new one," Adam blurted out. "Or drive you around until you get one. Or whatever. Just don't stress, okay?" Adam insisted, practically begging the man. "You're supposed to be resting."

John nodded.

Adam blinked. "Wait. That's it? No argument? Really?"

John shook his head.

"Shit," Adam whispered. "Do I need to have the doctor come check on you again?" He was only half joking.

John managed to breathe a laugh that time. Then he gave Adam's hand a squeeze and said, "Go. I'll be fine. I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere, baby. I promise."

Adam stared at him for a long moment before he finally managed to tear himself away and walk out to his car. He drove back to his apartment, found some of John's clothes, stuffed them into a bag, and rushed right back to the hospital, feeling like he couldn't catch his breath until he laid eyes on John again, seeing the man still awake and still gloriously alive.

He helped John get dressed, then couldn't stop himself from chuckling when the man was forced to ride in a wheelchair out the front door. John muttered complaints but didn't fight the process. From there, Adam helped John into the passenger seat of his car, made sure he was buckled in, then raced around to the driver's side, falling into a fit of laughter as he pulled on his own seatbelt and started the engine.

"What's so funny?" John asked.

"Everything feels so backwards right now."

John chuckled, but the sound cut off quickly as a thoughtful look took over his face. "Yeah," he murmured. John cleared his throat. "You can just drop me at home–"

"Nope," Adam interrupted him as he turned left out of the hospital parking lot and headed for the freeway on-ramp. "I mean, I'll take you home if you want, but I'm staying with you. Or you're coming to my place. Either way, I'm putting you straight to bed and–"

"Adam–"

"No, actually, I'm going to give you a bath first since I know you're probably dying for one and you'll sleep better that way, except you can't get your bandages wet, so you're going to let me do all the work. And then you're drinking like a gallon of water, and then you're going straight to bed–"

"Adam–"

" I'm having surgery in two days! " Adam shouted, all his pent-up fear from last night tumbling out of him. "I can't…I need…Fuck!" He came to a stop at a red light, then closed his eyes and huffed out a breath. He had to stay calm so that John would also stay calm. The last thing the man needed was to get worked up when he was supposed to be resting and recovering. "Not another word until we get home," Adam bit off through clenched teeth, giving the order more for himself than for John while he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

John stayed silent for the rest of the drive.

Adam squirmed in his seat. It was weird and uncomfortable, neither of them talking and no music playing. And Adam doing the driving! John definitely preferred the driver's seat, both literally and figuratively. Adam shook his head, inwardly cursing.

He had to remind himself, over and over again, that John was there. Right beside him. Alive and well.

Adam started to head towards his own apartment, then changed his mind and veered away from downtown, deciding to take them to John's place instead. John made no comment, but when Adam snuck a glance at him, he saw a look of relief on the man's face. Okay. Good. Right decision . John would be more comfortable at home. In his own bed.

They reached John's house, and Adam used a spare garage door opener that John had given him. John so rarely used the front door that going in this way had become habit, even when Adam had to park in the driveway because John's truck was in the garage. This time, Adam pulled right in and shut off his car, rushing to get out so he could help John up from the passenger seat.

John didn't argue or try to fight him in any way. He passively let Adam haul him to his feet, put an arm around him, and guide him into the house.

They stopped just inside the door, and Adam dropped down to a crouch to help John out of his boots. Adam toed off his own shoes, made sure both pairs were settled neatly on the rack, then slipped his arm around John's waist again and led him to the bathroom.

John continued silent as Adam undressed him, being careful of the bandages on his arms. Adam dumped John's clothes into the hamper, started the tub filling with warm water, and helped steady John as the man stepped into the tub.

Adam ran to the kitchen to get a cup, having flashbacks to being a little kid and his dad giving him a bath. There had been an old, plastic tumbler in some god-awful shade of orange that always sat on the edge of the tub, and Adam remembered Dad cradling his head with one hand while using that cup to rinse out his hair.

Despite all the tension and worry crawling through his veins, Adam couldn't help laughing at the memory as he snatched down a water glass and raced back to the bathroom.

John gave him a curious look but still didn't say anything.

Adam waved the glass before he set it carefully aside. "Just thinking about my dad." Adam dipped a hand into the water, checking the temperature, then reached out to adjust the valves, cooling it down a bit. He wanted John to be comfortable but not get overheated after what happened last night.

John's mouth quirked up in a smile, but it was bittersweet, happiness and sadness both vying for dominance in the expression. "I love that you can laugh when you think about him now."

Adam felt a grin take over his face even though he was trying to stay serious and focused. "Yeah. Me, too," he admitted.

After shutting off the water before the tub got too full, Adam picked up the cup, filled it, and poured it back over John's head. Adam took his time washing John all over, being gentle and thorough. A bittersweet ache filled his chest. Adam realized this was the first time he and John had gotten to truly share any kind of bathing experience, yet it was nothing like he'd imagined. It was entirely clinical and unromantic. Not even remotely erotic. For the first time, seeing John naked, all Adam could think about was how fragile and precious John actually was despite always seeming so strong and in control.

Adam shuddered and tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on his work.

He had to be extra careful with the man's arms, steering clear of the bandages. Adam had a whole set of instructions from the doctor about replacing the bandages at intervals and monitoring John's healing, and he intended to follow them to the letter.

"Shit," Adam whispered. He wouldn't be able to do all that while he was recovering from surgery. He'd either be sleeping or doped up on pain killers, too fuzzy to focus on taking care of John. "You know what? I'm gonna cancel the surgery. I'll push it back to–"

John practically launched himself halfway out of the tub, grabbing Adam by the shoulders. "Don't you dare."

"But–"

"You will not cancel your surgery. Do you hear me? You've been putting off your own needs for so long, I won't let you put it off again."

"But I need to take care of you–"

"I'm fine ," John insisted.

"You ran into a fire, John!" Adam snapped back at him. He winced, hating himself for yelling at the man when John was recovering, but the words wouldn't stop coming. "You put yourself in danger and I thought I was going to lose you and I knew I couldn't go through all that again, and for what? For some fucking grapes ? I mean, I know what your job means to you and I'd hate for Everett to lose part of his business, but still–"

"Because of you ," John interrupted him, then let out a heavy sigh, like he'd been holding something in and was finally able to cast it out of him. He took a slow, deep breath, and sank back in the tub, draping his arms over the edges and laying his head back.

Adam stared at him. "Me?"

John nodded. "Those weren't just grapes. That was my favorite part of the property. Always had been, ever since I started working there. The first time I saw that section of the vineyard, you popped right into my head. I'm not even sure why. But I found myself standing there, gazing at that view, thinking about you, wishing I could show you this beautiful place. So from then on, that was where I went to think of you. To remember sitting with you in my living room as we wrote songs together. To remember your smile. Your voice. Those grapes were you. Even having you like this," John went on, waving a hand at him, "I couldn't let them go."

Adam's chest tightened, hearing the pain and passion in John's words. "Oh."

"I saw those vines catch fire," John continued, "and it felt like you were the one in danger somehow. Watching them burn, it felt like losing a piece of you. Or a piece of my sanity." John stopped and shook his head, muttering a curse under his breath. He sat forward again and grabbed Adam by the shoulders. "Don't let my stupidity get in the way of what you want. You're right. I shouldn't have thrown myself into that fire. And I'm so sorry I made you worry. But this isn't the same, okay?" John went on, and somehow, Adam knew right away that the man was referring to his dad. "This isn't your fault. Of course, that wasn't either," he quickly added, "but this was my fault. Mine. Because I couldn't let go. But I'm here, baby. I'm here, and I'm going to be fine. And you are getting your surgery in two days, and that's final."

Adam let out a shuddering exhale and sank to his backside next to the tub.

"Adam?" John asked, his eyes full of worry.

"I'm okay," Adam said, shaking his head. He breathed a laugh and wiped at his eyes. "Just hearing that tone of voice again. Fuck. I didn't realize how much I needed that."

John gave him a genuine smile that time.

Adam got back up onto his knees and finished John's bath, then dried him off, got him dressed, and made him drink a glass of water before they sat down on the couch to watch a movie. He fielded calls and text messages the rest of the weekend, ensuring their friends that everything was fine. That John was resting and recovering. That, yes, the surgery was still happening, so long as John looked strong enough come Monday morning.

Throughout it all, Adam felt something nagging at the back of his mind, but whatever it was, it refused to take clear shape. Adam had to keep pushing the feeling aside, focusing on John. Even he had to admit that, by the time Sunday evening arrived and they made final preparations for Adam's own recovery, John looked almost back to normal. Other than the bandages on his arms and the deeply thoughtful look on his face, John really did seem okay.

Then, suddenly, it was Monday morning, and Adam came instantly awake, feeling somehow both calm and nervous all at the same time.

John was already up, padding quietly into the bedroom with a mug of coffee in his hands. "Hey. I was just coming to wake you." He set his mug on the nightstand and perched on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through Adam's hair. "How are you feeling?"

Adam thought about it, trying to form a cohesive idea through the nagging voice still there in the back of his head. "Weirdly calm," he admitted. "And nervous. And excited." He paused. "And, damn it, that coffee smells so good and I can't have any!"

John chuckled, but it broke off quickly. "I'll go dump it out–"

"No!" Adam gasped. He sat up and pressed a hand to John's chest. "No. You're going to drink your coffee and do your normal routine and whatever else you need–"

John grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Breathe," he ordered. "I'm okay." He kissed Adam's knuckles. "I'm right here." He let go of Adam's hand, then patted him on the hip. "Now get up and get dressed."

The rest of the morning went by in a blur. Adam was only dimly aware of putting on his own pajama shorts and one of John's button-front flannel shirts. He didn't even realize, until after the shirt was on, that he hadn't put on a binder first. Adam paused there, waiting for the icky feeling to settle in, but it never did. Maybe his nerves were too strong, overpowering everything else.

Besides, in a few hours, he'd never need a binder again, anyway.

Then they were in Adam's car, John in the driver's seat and Adam staring out the window as they drove down to the surgery center. Before Adam knew it, he was checked in, changed into a hospital gown and compression socks, and sitting on a gurney while the doctor drew lines on his chest.

Adam stared resolutely at the ceiling, trying to stay calm. This would be the last time anyone would see his naked chest like this. In a few hours, his body would be the way it was supposed to be.

"That should do it," the doctor said, capping his marker. "I'm going to go scrub in, and the nurses will be along shortly to get you."

Adam nodded mutely, feeling his heart start to race in anticipation.

It felt like he no sooner blinked than the doctor was gone and John was by his side instead, holding his hand, telling him everything was going to be okay. Then Adam was on his back, surrounded by nurses, being wheeled away while John watched, giving him an encouraging smile.

Adam's chest heaved as that nagging thought in the back of his mind finally took crystal-clear shape.

"Wait!" he gasped. The gurney stopped just as John had begun to turn away to head for the waiting room. Adam swallowed hard, his heart racing wildly inside his chest. Oh fuck . Was he really doing this?

But he knew he had to. Just in case he never got the chance again.

"Daddy?"

John froze.

Adam's heart beat out of control as he watched John slowly turn back to look at him. The man's eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted. He stared at Adam with the strangest mix of alarm and gratitude, of fear and relief.

"I love you," Adam added, then he gave a nod without looking away from John's face. He squeezed his eyes shut as the gurney began to move again.

Just in case he didn't make it, he wanted John's face to be the last thing he ever saw.