Out of the Dungeon (4 page)

Dare's hands brushed his shoulders, at first
softly, then kneading and comforting. Roman tried to talk, but
couldn't get any words out.

Great. Way to be an über tough Dominant. He
took a deep breath and suddenly felt dizzy.

"Sit," Dare coaxed, and pressed on Roman's
shoulders. "Just sit down on the floor."

Roman did.

"Now breathe with me," Dare commanded.
"In…two, three, four, five… out, two, three, four, five. Come on
Roman, long, deep breaths."

The submissive commanding the Master. If they
had been in any other situation, Roman would have snorted with
laughter, but none of this was funny. So he listened to Dare and
let Dare help him breathe.

After a couple of minutes, he felt like he
could talk.

"Jeff was hit by a truck on his way to work.
We have to go to the hospital."

"All right. Let's get dressed and go," Dare
said.

Roman accepted the clean clothes that Dare
handed to him. His brain was still on freeze. He couldn't think
what order to put his clothes on.

"Put on your pants," Dare said, and Roman
did. "Now the shirt." After Roman had managed that, Dare handed him
socks. "Put them on."

In between Roman's slow movements, Dare
dressed himself.

Dare took Roman by the hand and led him
toward the door. "Put on your shoes, and lock the door. I'll go out
and get us a cab."

Roman just shrugged. A cab, a bus, a train,
whatever. So long as they got to the hospital.

Roman joined Dare at the curb, and after a
minute or two, a taxi stopped.

They rode in silence. When they arrived,
Roman had collected himself enough to ask about Jeff at the info
desk, and get them directed to the ICU.

Roman felt nauseated on the elevator ride.
It could be bad. It could be bad.
And then he found himself
praying to a God he didn't even believe in.
Please don't let it
be bad.

Roman had to request entry to the ICU via a
telephone mounted on the wall outside locked double doors. "Roman
Preston to see Jeff Johnson."

A voice came over a speaker. "Have a seat in
the waiting area, please. Someone will be out to talk to you
soon."

Roman glared at the phone, then at the door.
"Motherfuckers. They're not going to let me in."

"Roman, chill," Dare said. "Let's find the
waiting area. Be patient."

"I can't be patient. My boy is hurting behind
those doors."

"I know. And they're taking care of him. At
the moment, they know more about what he needs than you do."

The words surprised Roman. They were rational
and logical, and… Dare was completely calm. Uptight Dare was not
freaking out. How many times had Roman seen Dare hesitant and
frightened and about to freak out? How many times had Roman been
the one to calm Dare, ease his fears, help him through?

Practically every time. Roman realized he
didn't remember anything that happened in between getting the phone
call and walking into the hospital. Dare had taken complete charge.
He wondered how many other surprise hidden strengths Dare had.

The waiting area had a couple of couches and
a couple of chairs. The couches were just big enough to seat three
– Dare and Roman and Jeff – and the fact that Jeff wasn't there to
take the third spot was an absence that felt bottomless, so Roman
chose a chair. He expected Dare to take the other chair, but Dare
surprised him by dropping to the floor and settling himself between
Roman's feet, his back flanked by Roman's calves. The way Jeff
would do automatically.

Roman felt a rush of gratefulness for Dare
that just about took his breath away. He leaned forward and folded
his upper body over Dare, wrapping his arms around Dare's chest.
His lips brushed Dare's dark blond hair. "Thank you for getting me
here," he said

Dare glanced up at him, eyes wide and
startled. Eyes that were a lighter blue than Jeff's, so different,
and yet so similar. "Of course. What else would I do?"

"I don't know," Roman said, and he didn't. He
only knew that he had stopped functioning, existing only in the
pure terror that he might lose Jeff.

"Hello?" The voice came unexpectedly. "Jeff's
people?"

Roman looked up. A young dark-skinned man in
a white coat stood there looking at them.

"Yes." Roman answered. "And you are…?"

"Dr. Rashaviak," the man said.

"Thank God," Roman said. "I'm a wreck out
here. Tell me what's going on." And he pulled himself away from
Dare and stood. " I'm Roman. This is Dare. Jeff's family. When can
we see him?"

"It will be awhile," the doctor said,
gesturing to one of the couches. "Jeff is in surgery at the moment,
so it is a good time for me to tell you about his injuries." He was
from somewhere else, India ,maybe, and sounded like English was not
his first language. But he was not hard to understand.

Roman sat down, and patted the space next to
him. "All right. I suppose if I can't go to the operating room and
supervise whoever's fixing him, then I will have to sit still and
listen."

Dr. Rashaviak dragged one of the chairs
closer to the couch and sat down. He smiled. "You are a take charge
guy, Roman?"

Dare made a noise, and Roman flashed him a
look.

"I think you could say that, yes." Roman
answered.

"Then I will warn you that this is going to
be hard. You are going to have to trust us here at St. Anne's to
take care of Jeff. And I will promise you that we will, but Jeff's
injuries are extensive, and he will have many weeks of recovery.
And much of it will be beyond your control. So first, you must
accept that part of things."

Roman felt his face settle into a scowl. "I'm
with you so far, but I don't like it. Tell me first what's the
worst of it."

The doctor shook his head. "No. First I will
tell you what is the best of it. As far as we can tell, Jeff was
wearing a bicycle helmet, and his head was not injured. This is not
a promise, only a preliminary projection, and we could be wrong. He
also did not lose oxygen, so it is probably safe to presume that he
has no brain damage."

Dare, sitting quietly beside Roman, was
nodding. "He always wears that goofy-looking helmet."

"This is a very good thing," Dr. Rashaviak
said. "A truck hit him while he was riding his bicycle, and he flew
through the air. No helmet, very bad. Helmet, not as bad. So that
is the best of it. The worst of it is that some of the bones in the
spinal column at the neck were cracked and broken. He also has
injuries to the left collarbone and the left ribs. These are
injuries where each one takes its own time to heal, and together
make a long recovery time. Probably including some weeks at a
rehabilitation center."

The doctor was regarding them gravely,
impressing upon them that these were major problems.

He went on. "Of course, the neck bones are
the most worrisome, but the paramedics on the scene were good ones
and very conscientious, and the bystanders had checked his pulse
and breathing, but had not attempted to move him. These are all
very good things. When he arrived at the emergency department, Jeff
was able to wiggle his fingers and toes, which is hallelujah for
doctors and nurses of patients with neck injuries. Do you follow
what I am saying?"

"He's not paralyzed," Roman said, holding his
breath.

"Right," the doctor agreed. "His spinal cord
has not been severed. I cannot guarantee that it was not damaged,
but so far so good. So. Jeff is in surgery first to stabilize his
neck. The surgeon will put in metal rods and braces and screws, to
hold the neck for healing and prevent damage to the spinal column.
The surgery has risk of complication, always, but I tell you that
St. Anne's has very good neurosurgeons, and I don't expect any
trouble. Ribs will certainly heal, and the collar bone, well, x-ray
shows not a bad break, and if we immobilize the arm and shoulder,
it should heal on its own."

Roman took a deep breath. It was bad, but not
as bad as it could have been. "Is that all of it?"

"Well, there are scrapes and bruises, of
course, always in this kind of accident. But I have told you the
serious problems. Jeff will return here to the ICU for a few days,
because that is standard for neck and spine injuries. He is still
considered a young man, and I expect a good recovery. Not fast,
maybe not as good as new, but overall his prognosis is very good. I
will write down the best phone number to reach you, and now you
should go find some breakfast. You won't be able to see Jeff until
this afternoon, and even then only for about five minutes, just to
tell him that he will be okay, and that he should go to sleep and
not worry."

"That's it? That's all we can do?" Roman
asked, though he knew how ridiculous the question was. Of course
there wasn't anything else they could do. They weren't surgeons or
doctors or nurses.

"You could donate blood, of course," Dr.
Rashaviak suggested. "Or go to the volunteer office of the hospital
and sign up to rock babies or deliver flowers, those things would
be very helpful to us and very nice things to do for other
patients. But for Jeff…" he shrugged, and offered a gentle smile.
"There is nothing now but to wait."

"Y
ou are going to be
a very bad waiting partner," Dare suggested, as they left the
hospital. "Scowling all the time, and impatient, and difficult to
hang out with."

"Thank you, Mr. Wiseass, for the support,"
Roman said.

"I'm just saying. The doctor was giving us
good news, under the circumstances, and you were looking at him
like you were going to rip his head off at any moment. I thought he
was very brave for managing to tolerate it without a single nervous
twitch."

"It takes arrogance to be a doctor," Roman
replied. "And smarts, and guts. That's why they become
doctors."

"True," Dare agreed. "Now you should Call
Vanessa. She needs to know what's going on."

Roman looked thoughtful. "I'm sure I don't
have her number."

"Then call Suede."

They went into a café and sat at a booth.
Dare suspected that they would do a lot of dining out in the next
few weeks. After all, it was Jeff who did the cooking. Jeff who did
so many things to take care of Roman; and Dare by default. Dare
hadn't considered before the many benefits he received purely
because Jeff was so devoted to Roman.

Roman called Suede and spoke to her briefly,
telling her Jeff had been in an accident, and asking her to have
Vanessa call him for details. It was only a matter of minutes
before Vanessa called and Roman walked outside to tell her what he
knew.

The server came along, quirking an inquiring
eyebrow toward the door, and Dare said, "I'll order for him."

He ordered a Denver omelet, hash browns, and
coffee for each of them. He thought it odd that he should take this
role, but it felt right. There were little ways he could do some of
the things that Jeff was accustomed to doing. They would be
half-assed, and certainly not carried off with Jeff's grace, but it
would be okay.

Roman returned. "I ordered food," Dare told
him, and when Roman didn't even question what Dare had ordered,
Dare knew it had been the correct thing to do.

"Vanessa is freaking out," Roman said. "She
wanted to go to the hospital immediately, even though I told her
there'd be no point."

"She loves him," Dare said. "You know
that."

"I know," Roman said. "So do I, but I'm not
freaking out."

"You would be, if you knew how to be anything
but calm, cool, and collected."

"Ha-ha." Roman said. "You're not funny."

"Well, it's true."

"Maybe," Roman conceded. The server came over
with a coffee pot and filled their cups. "I was going to bring you
coffee in bed this morning," Roman said, and the words surprised
Dare.

"Why?" Dare asked.

"Aftercare. Because you deserved it."

Dare felt his face go red. "Oh, hush. Let's
not talk about it here."

The punishment had been so intense that Dare
felt like he'd gone far beyond submission, into some other realm of
consciousness, and his orgasm, when it came, ripped his conscious
mind apart, until he was nothing and no one, just a part of the bed
and the sheets and Roman.

Roman's hands were kind, his voice a soft
murmur, as he washed Dare with a warm cloth, helped him drink some
water, and wrapped Dare into his arms to sleep.

As he drifted off, Dare imagined the slow,
lazy morning that was to come.

That little while felt like a thread that
might hold the fabric of their three-way relationship together. If
they could each feel
this
on a regular basis, if they could
both love Roman, and somehow let Roman's love bind them, maybe it
could work.

Dare knew that Jeff had resented him at the
beginning, but for a little while when everything was new and
exciting, Dare had moments where he thought everything was going to
be okay. Maybe not easy, but Dare was starting to get to know Jeff,
to understand the deep-seated insecurities that drove him at times
to whiny peevishness. As Dare learned more about Jeff's history of
hurts and heartaches, he liked Jeff more. And, for a short time,
Dare thought he and Jeff could reconcile that they both loved
Roman, and come to love one another.

"Everything is out of balance all of a
sudden."

Roman's words brought Dare back to the café
and breakfast.

The waitress arrived, set down their plates,
and refilled their coffee mugs. When she went away, Dare said, "It
is. I feel it, too. Nothing will be right if Jeff is out of
commission."

"Well then, we know what we have to do. Get
Jeff back in the game as soon as possible."

"I'll let you be in charge of that,
Roman."