Chapter 25

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JOHN

JOHN SHUFFLED off to the waiting room in a daze. Holy shit . His chest heaved and his heart was beating too fast.

Adam had said it. He'd actually said it.

John felt a stinging sensation at the back of his eyes. He swiped a hand across his face, holding back the urge to cry. John never cried.

Except he was so overwhelmed that he thought he might not be able to stop himself this time.

John found the waiting room and began to pace, his long strides eating up the floor, since he had the room to himself. He felt like a caged animal. Worrying about Adam. Guilt clawing up his throat. Feeling like he was on the verge of falling apart or tumbling off a cliff or something . His heart was still beating too hard, his breaths coming too fast. John took a drink from a bottle of water he'd brought along, then had to rush off to the bathroom when he realized his bladder was practically screaming at him.

He relieved himself, then washed his hands, staring at his reflection as he did so. Daddy . "Fuck," John breathed. Adam had actually called him Daddy .

John dried his hands and headed back for the waiting room.

He lurched to a stop at the sight of Everett sitting in one of the chairs.

"Ah, there you are," Everett said, smiling as he stood up.

John moved forward on autopilot, automatically reaching out to shake hands with the man while he tried to get his mind to work. "What are you doing here?" Before Everett could reply, John blurted out, "I'm sorry about the vines. I tried to stop the fire but it spread so fast. And I had been meaning to tell you those grapes needed to come out anyway since they were looking tired but I couldn't make myself do it and now it's too late–"

"John," Everett interrupted him gently. "John," he repeated, grabbing him by the shoulders. "It's okay."

John let out a heavy, shuddering breath. Christ . Since when had he turned into Adam, babbling uncontrollably?

"It's okay," Everett repeated. " I'm sorry you put yourself in harm's way. You know I have insurance for exactly this sort of thing," he added with a chuckle. "But none of that matters right now. I'm just glad to see you're doing well."

John nodded.

"Does it hurt much?" Everett asked, nodding at John's arms.

John shook his head, then paused to think about it. His arms did ache, but it was so overwhelmed by everything else that he barely noticed it. "Not really," he admitted.

"Good," Everett murmured. He patted John on the shoulder. "And as for why I'm here," Everett continued, "I'm not your boss right now, so let's drop all the work talk, okay? I'm here as a friend." The door opened then, and Theo walked in. "We all are."

John blinked, watching his friend and coworker cross the room. Theo shook his hand, then clapped him on the back. "I'm so glad you're okay," Theo said.

"Thanks," John managed, feeling bewildered by their presence. Before he could comment on it, the door opened again, with Beau and Mav coming in this time. A minute later, Griff and Laurie also joined them. John felt speechless, moving like a robot as he shook hands with each man and accepted their well-wishes on his health. "What are you all doing here?" he finally managed to ask.

Everett smiled at him. "We're family, John," he answered, like it was the simplest and most obvious thing in the world.

It took everything John had not to break down and cry right then and there. He was sorely tempted to let it all go, even in front of every one of the doms in their group, but he managed to hold back. Barely, but still.

The small talk died down, and John went back to pacing, but he kept it somewhat contained. He eyed the clock every few minutes. Christ . It felt like the hands were moving backwards. Had they started yet? Was Adam okay? What if there were complications? What if something went wrong? Fuck . Was this what Adam felt, sitting in the hospital waiting room all those years ago? Granted, Adam had only described the experience as boredom, but John knew there had to have been more to it than that. Despite spending the day before his birthday stuck in a waiting room, anxious for the surgery to be over with so Adam could finally have his own turn under the knife, John knew the boy had to have been worried, anxiously awaiting the moment when the doctor would come out and say it was over and that everything was going to be okay.

Except Adam had never gotten that moment of relief. He'd gotten the worst possible news instead.

John sank into a chair and held his head in his hands.

Someone came over and sat down beside him. A hand landed between his shoulder blades, and a low voice murmured, "He's gonna be okay."

Theo . John swallowed hard as he nodded, but didn't lift his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to control the worry on his face. When he finally felt composed enough, John took a deep breath and got up to pace again.

Nobody said anything. John felt them all glancing at him from time to time, but nobody told him to stop. To sit down. Eventually, their quiet, steady presence finally settled into his awareness, seeping down into his bones. None of them complained about the boredom nor looked to be in any hurry to leave.

John stopped and stared at the floor as he felt his control start to slip.

Finally, after what felt like days, the doctor came in and approached John. Even with a smile on the man's face, John didn't completely relax until he heard the words, "Adam's out of surgery. Everything went well."

John inwardly crumpled even while he forced himself to stay on his feet. Thank fuck . He wrung the doctor's hand. "Thank you," he managed to get out in an even voice. "When can I see him?"

"He's being moved to recovery as we speak. I'll have a nurse come get you as soon as he's settled. You'll be able to take him home in a couple hours, most likely." The doctor then went on to reiterate the post-op care Adam needed, which was already outlined in a packet Adam had at home. John had tried memorizing all the details over the weekend, but he suddenly couldn't remember any of it in the wake of Adam's last words. And everything the doctor said seemed to immediately escape his mind.

He knew he'd have to put Adam to bed as soon as they got home, then go take the time to read it all again.

The doctor left, and John finally sat down. He let out a shuddering breath. Christ . He couldn't wait to get Adam home.

No, he couldn't wait to see Adam's face when the boy woke up.

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 up now . 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 hand closest 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 you Daddy . 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.

"I'll be right here when you wake up," John promised him.

Adam blinked sleepily at him. "I know," he sighed, a soft smile on his face as he drifted off.

John sat there for a long time, just watching Adam sleep. But after a while, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer, and this was as good a moment as any. With Adam taking a nap, John could have the time alone to get through whatever emotional breakdown he might have.

He quietly left Adam's bedroom and pulled the door almost shut, still wanting to be able to hear in case Adam woke up and called for him. Then he went to the living room and pulled out his phone.

John paced in front of the couch, taking slow, deep breaths. His chest ached from how hard and fast his heart was beating, but he knew he had to do this. Adam had been so brave, facing a decade-long fear and finally letting go of his grief.

It was high time for John to do the same.

Moving slowly and deliberately, John unlocked his phone and opened the voicemail app. Frank Barnes's message was still there. Or at least it appeared to be there. John had no idea if it would play again after that one accidental time, but he had to try. If anything, he could always run home and find the file on his computer.

Except he didn't want to wait that long. He wanted it finally over and done with.

John took a deep breath and hit Play .

" John, it's Frank ," the message began. John almost heaved a sigh of relief. The message was still there. Now he just had to get through whatever words Frank had left for him. " I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night ."

John blinked. "Apologize?" he asked aloud, the question gushing out of him in shock. He stared at the phone, trying to reconcile the words with what he'd been expecting to hear all these years.

" I came at you like that and never gave you a chance to tell your side of the story, and I'm sorry for that. I know you to be a good and honorable man, so for me to jump to the conclusion that you'd ever actually hurt my son… " Frank's voice trailed off for a moment. " I heard Adam's distress, and the parent in me couldn't help but defend my child. " He paused, breathing a laugh. " But you know how Adam can be. My little drama queen. Not that I'm discounting what he said or what he's feeling, but I suspect I've misunderstood the entire situation, and I'd like a chance to sit down and hear what you have to say. "

John dropped onto the couch like his legs had been cut out from under him.

" So I hope you'll call me back when you get this. If I don't hear back from you tonight, it might be a few days before we can talk again. I'm going in for shoulder surgery tomorrow. " Frank breathed another laugh. " Adam's been pestering me about it for months. We even had a big fight about it. But the truth is, he's right. I need to get this over with. I've been putting it off for way too long. Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon. Thanks, John. "

The message ended, and John dropped the phone onto the coffee table, staring at the screen until it dimmed and then went dark.

For nearly a decade, John had thought for sure that Frank had still been angry with him. Instead, Frank had been ready to hear his side and forgive him.

And John had missed the chance by never answering the phone. He'd chickened out, and by the next day, it was too late.

For the first time in almost thirty years, John cried.