Finding Home (20 page)

“Dillon?” He heard a car door slam and someone was next to him in an instant. “Are you okay?” He recognized the voice as one he’d heard before but couldn’t put a name to it without opening his eyes, and that was not an option at the moment. It was someone Adam knew, he could put that much together.

“I don’t think so,” he hissed in pain. “I twisted my knee.”

He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. “Oh, fuck, dude. You’re bleeding. We’ve got to get you to a hospital. You need to have that looked at.”

“I’m okay,” Dillon tried to protest, although he knew he wasn’t okay. He hurt like hell.

“I’m going to pick you up, Dillon. I’ll try to be careful, but I can’t promise that it won’t hurt.” Then Dillon felt an arm slide under his neck and his knees. He opened his eyes barely enough to get a glimpse of the face in front of him. It was Matt, Adam’s friend from the other night. He felt incredibly nauseous when the light hit his eyes, so he closed them again immediately.

“HOLY FUCK!” he cried out as he was lifted in the air. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Tears were leaking down his face from the sheer power of the pain. His stomach was roiling, and he was suddenly incredibly grateful that he hadn’t eaten when Adam had offered.

Matt was unbelievably apologetic as he got Dillon into his car. “I’m calling Adam to let him know where we are going.” Dillon was extremely pleased to hear Adam’s name. He needed him, argument be damned.

Dillon kept his eyes closed, because the motion was making him more nauseous. Plus every time the car started or stopped, his knee twisted a little more and all he could do was groan in pain. Matt apologized every time, and Dillon wanted to tell him to stop, but he couldn’t manage to get the words out. His head and arm were throbbing and his knee felt like it had exploded.

He was relieved when they arrived at the hospital. “Adam?” Dillon asked groggily. He felt like he was slipping in and out of sleep.

“I’m trying to reach him,” Matt promised. That’s the last thing Dillon heard before the lights went out.

Adam’s phone rang for the third time in a row, but he continued to ignore it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone since Dillon hadn’t come home from his run yet and that included Matt. He rolled over to his side when his phone dinged to alert him to a text message. He reluctantly picked it up to check it in case it was Dillon.

It wasn’t.

Matt: Answer your phone, asshole. Dillon is at the hospital.

Adam flew up out of the bed in a panic. He started pulling jeans and a shirt on simultaneously, nearly stumbling head first into the dresser. His phone rang again a few seconds later and he answered. “What in the hell happened?” Adam demanded as he ran down the hallway and grabbed his keys.

“I’m not exactly sure what happened. I was driving down the road when I saw someone running, and when I looked back, they were on the ground.  Once I got closer, I recognized Dillon and got out to help. He really messed up his knee, dude; it’s all swollen and shit. He cracked his head on the sidewalk, and his arm is all road-rashed. He passed out in the car as we pulled up to the hospital,” Matt explained as fast as he could.

“How is he now? Are you still there?” He’d already jumped in his car and started driving down the road before he realized he didn’t know where they were. “What hospital are you at?”

“UNMC,” Matt told him. “I don’t know how he is. They won’t tell me anything, because I’m not family.”

“FUCK!” Adam cried out and smashed his fist into the steering wheel. “He doesn’t have any fucking blood family. I am his family!”

“I’m sorry, bud. I don’t know what to tell you,” Matt apologized.

“It’s not your fault. Look, I’ll figure something out, okay? I’m on my way. Will you please stay there until I get there? I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’m good here for a while.”

“Thanks, man.” Adam hung up the phone and called Grams. He quickly told her everything he knew about Dillon’s condition, and what Matt had said about them not telling them anything. She was just as worried as Adam was and told him to keep her updated.

*****

Adam rushed into the emergency room and up to the desk. “I’m looking for Dillon Turner. Can you tell me how he is?”

“Are you immediate family?” the nurse asked, barely looking up from the paperwork in front of her.

“I’m his boyfriend, ma’am. I’m the only family he has. Please?” Adam begged. He knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but he had to know how Dillon was.

“I’m sorry, sir, but without his express, written permission, I can’t release medical information to any non-family members.”

Adam cursed under his breath. “Can you at least tell me if he’s okay? No medical information, just tell me he’s okay? Please?” Adam’s voice broke. He was desperate to know that Dillon was okay. He couldn’t lose Dillon. Not now; not ever.

The nurse’s face softened considerably at Adam’s emotional plea. “He’s stable, which means he’s not in critical condition. That’s a good thing,” the nurse told him. “He should be okay.”

“Oh, thank God!” Adam sighed with relief. He turned toward Matt and saw Grams bustling toward them through the doors.

“Grams!” Adam cried and ran toward her, hugging her hard. “They won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Grams promised. She marched up to the counter. “Doris Banks,” she introduced herself to the nurse. “I’d like to see my grandson, Dillon Turner.”

“Ma’am, are you family?” the nurse asked skeptically, looking between Grams and Adam, who’d just told her that Dillon had no family.

“I just told you he’s my grandson. Now, I want to see him,” Grams replied firmly, staring the nurse right in the eye. The nurse sighed. She had no way of proving that Grams wasn’t Dillon’s grandma, and they really seemed to care about him. “Right this way.” She walked around the corner and led her toward one of the rooms.

“Adam,” Grams hollered. “Be a dear and help this old lady to Dillon’s room?”

Adam grinned from ear-to-ear. He loved Grams more than anything. “Yes, ma’am.” He hurried over to her and took her by the elbow. The nurse tried to hide her smile but failed. “Don’t do anything to get me into trouble, okay?” she whispered as they walked past.

Adam turned to her to express his gratitude. “Absolutely not. Thank you so much!”

There was a male nurse in the room cleaning up the wound on his arm when they walked in. “How is he?” Adam asked, rushing over to Dillon’s left side and taking his hand, lacing their fingers together. He had a white bandage wrapped around his forehead with a red spot where his wound had bled through.

“Are you Adam?” he asked with a smile.

Adam nodded. “I’m Jordan. I’ll be Dillon’s nurse while he’s here.” Adam acknowledged the introduction but was still waiting to hear the answer to his question. “He’s sedated right now. He’d passed out shortly before we got him inside, but we determined that was from the pain and not from his head injury. He came around and was asking where Adam was. He was in a lot of pain so we gave him a shot of Demerol. We’re getting ready to take him down for an MRI on his knee.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” Adam asked.

“Absolutely,” Jordan confirmed. “He’s going to be sore for a while though.”

“I can only imagine.” Adam felt guilty as hell that Dillon was in the hospital because of him. That’s the only way he could see it. Dillon was running to get some space from Adam, because he’d been hurt. So any way that you looked at it, it was Adam’s fault. He leaned down and kissed Dillon’s hand.

“Okay, Adam, we’re going to take him down now. Will you be here when we get back?” Another nurse walked in the room and started to unhook the machines from the power supply, to help move him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Adam promised. “Ever,” he whispered into Dillon’s ear and pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

They rolled him out of the room, and Adam felt empty inside. “This is all my fault,” he told Grams.

Grams shushed him and sat down in the chair to his right. “You know better than that.”

Adam gave Grams the shortened version of what happened that morning. “See, all my fault.”

“So you forced him to go running and fall? Is that what happened? You were there and you tripped him?” Grams asked matter-of-factly.

“No, but…” Adam began.

Grams cut him off. “Then I don’t want to hear another word about it. If you let Dillon know you’re feeling guilty, he’s going to worry about you. He needs to concentrate on healing, and you need to concentrate on helping him. Neither one of you need the added stress of blame or guilt.”

Adam leaned his head back against the wall. “I’ll try.”

“Good, now you should probably go see if Matt is okay. He looked a little shook up out there,” Grams told Adam. “He’s a good friend, that boy.”

“Yeah, he saw Dillon on the sidewalk and stopped to help him.” Damn it, Adam had just left Matt out in the waiting room in his hurry to get to Dillon. “I’ll be right back,” he told her.

He went back out to the waiting room. Matt stood up and walked toward him, meeting him halfway. Adam let out a frustrated groan. “How is he?” Matt asked.

“He’s okay. They’re doing an MRI on his knee. They cleaned his head and arm. He’s on some good painkillers though, so he’s sleeping.” Adam shook his head and look up at Matt. “Thank you. So much.” He tried to force as much gratitude into his voice as he could. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

“Hey, man, it’s no problem. You’d do the same for any of us.” Matt hugged his friend, and Adam didn’t try to pretend he didn’t need it. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

Adam blew out a breath loudly. “Me too, man. I just got him. I can’t lose him.”

“I’m gonna head out if you’ve got everything under control here,” Matt told him. “But you make sure to let me know how he is when you get home and if there is anything I can do to help, okay?”

“I will,” Adam promised. “Thank you for calling me and for taking care of him until I could get here. Just… really, thank you.”

“I got you, man,” Matt informed him reassuringly. “I got you. I’m out.” Adam nodded and headed back into the room.

*****

Adam’s nerves were shot by not being able to be with Dillon while he went through the procedure, and it was at least another half hour before they rolled Dillon back into the little cubicle room. Dillon’s eyes were open, searching the room for Adam. They’d put him through hell in that MRI. It was so loud, which didn’t help the massive headache, and every time they moved him, his knee felt like a thousand pins and needles were shooting through his skin. As soon as he located Adam, he felt like everything was right again. His world had felt like it was upside down not knowing if Adam was there or not, but he was.

Adam rushed to Dillon’s side, taking his hand again. He hooked his foot around the leg of the chair he’d been sitting in and dragged it over to him so he could sit down without having to let go of Dillon’s hand. “Hey,” Dillon breathed. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here.” Adam’s voice was soft and low. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit…” Dillon winced which made his forehead hurt. “Fuck!” he muttered.

“What can I do for you?” Adam asked instantly.

“Kiss me,” Dillon pleaded. “Softly.” Adam leaned in, not daring to deny him, and pressed his lips against Dillon’s as lightly as he could. “I love you, baby,” he murmured into Dillon’s mouth.

“Ahem...”

Adam shot back into the chair, still holding on to Dillon’s hand. “Feeling better are we, Mr. Turner?” the man asked in a clinical tone. Adam presumed he was the doctor.

“Not really,” he mumbled, eyes looking down toward the bed.

“I’m Dr. Waters. We’ve just had a look at the results of your MRI, and you’re in luck. You didn’t tear any of the ligaments, which is good, but you did sprain it. The good news is it doesn’t appear to be a terrible sprain, so you should be back on your feet in a couple of weeks. Bad news is you need to stay off of it as much as you can for the next seven days. We’ll give you a brace and some crutches, but you are not to do any sort of strenuous activity for a while or you could re-injure yourself. You’ll need to follow up with your doctor in two weeks.” Dr. Waters pulled out his prescription pad. “I’m going to give you a prescription for some painkillers to control the pain and some anti-inflammatories to help with the swelling.” He scribbled out the two scripts and handed them to Dillon. “You’ve been alert enough that we aren’t worried about a concussion, so you’ll get to go home as soon as we get you set up with the brace. Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir,” Dillon told him.

“Do you have someone to help you at home?” the doctor asked, eyeing Adam.

“Yes, sir,” Adam answered for Dillon. “I’ll make sure he follows directions.”

“You need to keep his wounds cleaned and bandaged with sterile pads and antibiotic cream,” Dr. Waters instructed almost condescendingly.

“I’m perfectly capable of keeping an open wound clean until it’s healed, sir,” Adam remarked, almost sarcastically. “It’s part of the job.”

“I see,” he muttered as he jotted down a few more items on Dillon’s chart. “I’ll have your nurse bring in the discharge papers and get you set up with your brace.” Then he exited the room.

Grams spoke up. “Well, if I never see that man again, it’ll be too soon. Asshole. He needs to learn some bedside manners.” Dillon was so happy to hear Grams’ voice. He hadn’t realized she was there but the fact that she was made him feel extremely loved.

Dillon yawned. “I just want to be in our own bed. This thing is like lying on concrete, and I did that once today already.” He tried to smile but winced again from the pain of his face scrunching.