Brotherhood of Fire (19 page)

Two days later, Carrie strode into the waiting room and flopped down next to Garrett, feeling bone tired and about at her wits end. She leaned over and kissed him, then rested her forehead on his shoulder. "You look terrible, hon."

"You're the picture of fresh and rested too." He chuckled, the hollow, tired laugh of someone trying to hold it together. "Ah, well, hospital vigil isn't exactly good for your health, is it? So, did you get it done?"

"All of it. Signed, sealed and delivered."
"I'm proud of you. Good thinking, coming up with all this."
"Yeah, well, we'll see if it matters or not. Any change?"
"Not really. No. They're changing the dressings now, kicked me out again. You

Carrie breathed a sigh, well accustomed to the little hitches that invaded all her deep breaths now, as if crying was a normal state of being. She'd spent the first twelve hours solemn, unable to talk, clinging to Garrett when they were together, keeping herself as solid as possible when it was her turn to stand next to John's bed. After that, resigned, she'd gone numb, drifted into a state of shock to the point a nurse had taken her blood pressure several times. The second day dawned, and her anger kicked in, salvaging what was left of her sanity, likely Garrett's too, since he had been beside himself thinking John suffered without knowing they were there. With her anger had come a flash of brilliance, and she'd spent the last day making feverish phone calls, getting together the papers she carried with her now.

A new nurse stood at the double doors, calling out for family for John. Carrie jumped up, and Garrett followed her. Hope that this was just an update and nothing critical filled her head.

"Family for Brenner?"
"Yes, that's us." She looked to Garrett and grabbed his hand.
"The dressings are changed. He seems to be coming around some, but he's been

moaning in his sleep, and he seems upset. Why don't both of you come back awhile; I think we can start loosening up rules for visitations a little; he needs some company if he's coming around."

Once inside his room, anything but looking at him ceased to exist for her. His big, pale body, buried in the big bed and hospital debris, looked fragile. The shadow of beard stubble on his face would have been sexy if she wasn't terrified about his injuries. Carrie just took him in like she always did when she walked in the room. This time, she could barely hold it together, had a tough time focusing. Having Garrett with her broke open the resolve she usually pulled down when she was in John's room alone.

Garrett pushed her forward, following right behind her as she squeezed in next to the bed and did exactly as he'd instructed. John shifted in the bed and heaved a deep sigh.

"Shh, shh . . . relax, sweetheart. We're here with him, and he seems to be doing okay. No different than he has been this whole time."
What he said was true, it was the same scene she'd taken in for nearly three days, but it still hit hard every time. Swallowing her self-pity, she turned and leaned into John, resting her cheek against his. He smelled like hospital, but underneath, his scent was still there. She had to bite back more tears and wondered how the hell she hadn't dried up like a raisin by now. She'd never cried so much in her life as she had the last two days, stuffed in a waiting room chair with Garrett beside her.
John turned his head toward her, took a deep breath, and rubbed his cheek against her. Her breath caught.
"See, he knows you're here. We're here."
She straightened and turned back into Garrett. "I hope he wakes up soon. I can't stand thinking he's remembering everything."
"Shh. Come on, we've talked about this. He's not thinking anything, and when he wakes up and sees us, everything will be fine."
"What if he still wants to walk away, what if he wants it even more now?"
"All you can do is put it out there, let him know what you did, and we'll hope he feels the same way we do."
"Thank you. Thank you for starting all this, and for knowing we shouldn't let go of it. I love you, I love that you know it's okay for me to love him, too. I just hope he wakes up soon, and we can all go back to how great things were."
"Me too." A voice croaked from the bed.

John could barely peel his eyes open; they felt like he hadn't used them in days, and from the feel of his body, he might not have. Bits and pieces of memory floated back to him, but he ignored the flashes of being in the fire, the hospital, all the pain, because the only thing he could focus on was the sound of Carrie's voice. That he could smell her, right here, with him. And Garrett too; he could hear him breathing.

As he tried to keep his brain focused enough to become fully conscious, he started picking up pieces of the conversation. From the sound of it, they were talking about the three of them. Maybe they weren't just here because in a proud fit of stupidity he'd made them his legal guardians if he were injured, and they had no choice.

The look she gave him when she turned, realizing he was awake, told him all he ever wanted to know.
"John? Oh, god, John . . . ." Her hands came up to cup his face, and he melted into her touch.
"Missed you," he managed to croak out.
"I love you. Please don't ever think—"
"Stop, Carrie, don't." He licked his lips. "Need some water."
Garrett was already there, holding the straw so John could take a long drink. "Hell, who knew hospital water could taste that good."
Carrie giggled. The laugh of someone relieved, full of pent-up concern and pain.
"I'm so sorry, Carrie. Garrett. Both of you. I was such an asshole."
"No apologies, not right now. We can talk about all that later. I mean . . . ." Carrie stopped, looking unsure.
Knowing he'd caused that falter, for her to be confused about how he felt was as painful as his body. He tried to push himself up a little in the bed unsuccessfully. He heaved a frustrated sigh. He needed to tell her, to try to make up for what he'd said.
"Stay still or you're going to—"
Nurses flooded the room from whatever alarm he'd managed to disconnect.
They shooed Carrie and Garrett out and began pawing at him before he had a chance to say anything, to tell them. Pulling this, peeling that, checking everything, including something he hadn't considered as the nurse matter-of-factly flopped his penis up and over while she checked his catheter.
"I fucking hate hospitals," he groaned.
The nurse laughed. "Good, you bitching means you're getting better."
By the time they were done, the fatigue of being awake and the fresh round of excruciating pain from the nurses moving him around and checking him over, left him barely able to focus. He kept his eyes open long enough to see Carrie and Garrett push back into the room as soon as the nurses pulled the curtain. The instant her hand closed around his, he faded.

Snoring. Quiet, but unmistakable, he came awake to the sound of snoring. He cracked an eye, but he didn't have to look to know it was Garrett. He'd slept with that sound up close and personal long enough to recognize it, and today, the sound comforted him. The rumbling coming from Garrett sounded like home. The slight weight of someone's arm wrapped over his belly felt the same, and he smiled as he slid his hand over Carrie's.

"Hey," she said quietly, smiling at him as he fully opened his eyes to the beautiful sight of her face resting on his arm.
"Hey. How long was I out this time?"
She glanced at her watch. "Seven hours."
"I need to have them back off the meds; I can't stay focused."
"You don't need to, sweetheart; you need to rest, and you really don't want the pain they say you'd be in if they cut back on your medication. Besides, time has pretty much become irrelevant since we got here."
"I'm sorry. I want to see you. Talk to you."
"It's okay, we're here. I'm not going anywhere, and Garrett hasn't left for one second. I think he's planning on moving in." She laughed softly.
He smiled, a laugh too much to manage. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to say what I did."
"It's okay. No apologies right now. Marcus told us what you said."
She leaned closer to him, close enough to rest her head on his good shoulder. He breathed deep of her and relaxed into her warm skin on his.
"Do I get a second shot?" he asked quietly.
"You're still on your first shot, sweetheart. I never gave up on you."
"I love you, Carrie."
"I love you too, John, and I don't care who knows it." She sniffed.
He looked up to see Garrett, awake and watching them with a contented smile. "I think everybody in this hospital knows by now. That's a start, eh?"
"I missed you so damn much," she whispered into his neck.
"We're going to make up for lost time when I get home." He laughed.
"Damn right we are." Garrett chuckled, moving in closer behind Carrie, who squeezed John's hand hard.
"Home. You're coming home, right?" Carrie asked.
"Hell yeah, I am; where else would I go? I mean, well, if you aren't too pissed off about what I said."
"Shh . . . we aren't supposed to be talking about this; you're supposed to be resting."
"Yeah, save your strength, man, you'll need it later." Garrett grinned and set a small box on the bedside table, next to a manila envelope.
"What's that?" he asked, shifting, already feeling sleepy again.
"Later," Garrett said, putting his warm hand over Carrie's on his chest. "We've got all the time in the world."

It took six days before he healed enough, the CT scans cleared, and the threat of infection had passed so he could go home.
Home. Home with Carrie and Garrett.
They didn't leave his room the entire time, other than to trade off to go get food or run home to change and shower, no matter how much he'd tried to order them to take a break. He mentally kicked himself more than once for ever wondering how they felt after the way they carried him through this ordeal. Carrie watching TV in bed with him, Garrett right next to them on the lounger the nurses had brought for them to rest in, his hand either on Carrie's hip, holding her other hand, or occasionally resting directly on his arm. Garrett fussed over him almost more than Carrie did, making sure he had what he needed, lifting him when the nurses needed to change bandages, checking on him constantly. He'd gotten a threatening glare when he commented on the attention. As odd as Garrett's protectiveness should have seemed, he knew it was his way of making up for feeling guilty. His unspoken way of saying there wasn't a chance in hell any of them would be apart again anytime soon.
Not that he had wondered how either of them felt after he'd woken up to both of them that first time. Seeing the way they looked at him had been enough. The comforting feeling settled in the second time he awoke to them sleeping by his bed. This time, when he opened his eyes, he found both of them again, sleeping quietly by his side, Carrie snuggled over Garrett in the lounger, where it had been moved next to his bed so she could keep her hand on him. Watching them sleep, he reached for the envelope on the table.
Partway through the stack of documents, he thought the monitors might go off, his heart pounded so hard. Blood rushed in his ears. Even with drug-hazed eyes, every detail was clear.
Durable Power of Attorney. Domestic Partnership
. Legal documents, already signed by Carrie and Garrett both. Rights and access making him, in the eyes of the court anyway, a legal partner in their lives.
The box finally caught his attention. A flash of the look on Garrett's face when he had set it there, ducking his head and trying to avoid his eyes, gave away its importance. Garrett always shied away from being obvious about any gesture.
He clicked open the box, and the sight brought tears to his eyes. He choked on a sob.
Carrie lifted her head at the sound, tears immediately filling her eyes. "He wouldn't let me see what was in there." A low, matching sob came from her as he just stared, unable to find words.
"Knock it off, you two." Garrett stirred, stretched, and wrapped an arm around Carrie, then reached over and squeezed John's forearm. His tender motions gave away what he tried to mask with the gruffness in his voice. "You make me cry, it's gonna be an ugly sight you won't soon forget. And I'll take the fact you made me cry out on both of you later."
Carrie snorted through her tears and rubbed her face on his shoulder as she squeezed John's hand.
He cleared his throat and wiped away his own un-manly tears. "Yeah, well, keep on swearing up and down you don't know how to show emotion, big guy." He attempted a chuckle to lighten up the moment until he caught Garrett's gaze over Carrie's head. The intensity of that brief exchange set in stone that no words were needed for any of them to understand what they were to each other.
Nothing could break his relief, his high, or his appreciation for what he had, that he'd almost lost. His mood was just as content when they stood arguing with the nurses about him walking out of the hospital.
"Park your ass in the wheelchair," Garrett barked, indelicate and impolite. He didn't much look like he cared whether or not anyone liked his attitude.
The big, burly nurse standing next to Garrett nodding in agreement scared John into giving in almost more than Garrett.
"Fine. Whatever, sweetheart. You want to push me out of the hospital, I guess I can humor you." He blew Garrett a kiss, which earned him a finger gesture in return.
"Better believe it, soon as we're out of here."
The burly nurse snorted, looked up at Garrett, and winked. Garrett turned to John, looking like he wanted to throttle him, and cocked an eyebrow, nodding at the wheelchair with a wicked grin.
"You're not going to dump me down the elevator shaft, are you?" John laughed, lowering himself into the thing.
"Nope. I'll think of something though, don't you worry."
Carrie came back into the room with his discharge papers.
"Well, I shouldn't have gone on vacation," the nurse said. "You two are a hoot. How long you been a couple?"
Carrie, just coming into the room with John's discharge papers, laughed. Garrett growled, and John thought he might need to duck or end up with a slap to the back of his head.
All thoughts of joking left his mind when the elevator doors closed. He reached out and yanked Carrie into his lap. He'd pulled her in bed with him several times over the last few days, but none of what they could manage there was enough to take the edge off the hunger he felt for her. Not when the threat of nurses coming in kept Garrett growling at them, looking like he wanted to jump on top of the two of them himself.
Now, elevator doors closed and the three of them finally alone, he pinned her to his chest with his good arm and leaned her back as he devoured her mouth with his. Her taste flooded him, the little moans he had missed coming from her throat as she pushed back at him, biting him with little nips, curling her tongue against his. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, wriggling her bottom against his lap, making him groan, a sound that echoed in the enclosed space.
"Don't make me stop the elevator and get us arrested for indecent exposure." Garrett said, giving the wheelchair a little jerk. "Put your hand any farther up her shirt and I'll do it. Swear to god. I'll stop this thing, and we'll end up fucking right here and now."
John pulled back and laughed, looking down at Carrie. "Guess we have to wait 'til we get home. No way am I staying one more minute in this place."