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, Morganstill 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 withyou. 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, andthenyou'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.
