The Memoirs

Lionel had watched his lover sleeping as the respirator was removed, the IV tubes shifted around to accommodate it, the oxygen tube attached to his nose instead. The bag he'd brought with him he now had to take home, and bring back instead clean pajamas, a clean pair of socks, and they were finally allowing him to cover his lover up with the warm downy quilt from their bed.

Since Dominic was awake, they were able to begin administering medication--blood thinners--to help clean out the small clots and obstructions that were causing the TIAs, and the doctors were cheerfully predicting that no more attacks would come, and that once Dominic had gained back some of his strength, the physical and speech therapy would rid his lover's body of the final lasting effects.

They hadn't told Dominic all of this, just most of it. But Dominic had shown, by blinks and nods and almost-not-there squeezes to his and the doctors' hands that he understood Lionel was going home for showering and clothes, and would be coming back later, after his family had had the chance to sit with him.

And that's where Lionel was now, sitting on the edge of the bed, having packed everything else he'd taken away--the letters were back in their envelopes, the Hawaiian shirt back in it's box and the box back in the storage crate, the discs were back in the safe and hidden behind the panel. A pile of clean pajamas and socks were sitting on the bed beside him, waiting to be packed, along with some of Dominic's favorite videos for the VCR in his room, a few audiobooks for when Lionel's voice gave out, and a single pair of leather bed slippers.

He'd showered, he'd changed, and he got up from the edge of the bed, and walked to the door. He wouldn't have any of this without Lex, and he crossed the hallway quietly, going and knocking on the door to the bedroom his son shared with Clark. "Lex?"

Clark looked up, and growled low in his throat.

He'd been sitting in his bedroom for two days... maybe three, he'd lost count, watching his lover sleep. He hadn't moved, had barely breathed enough to keep him alive, as the pure and total exhaustion of his mind was keeping him asleep. Only two others had dared to come knock, one Ms. Bird who he'd snarled at until she left, and Shayla, who'd he'd roared at and screamed at in Kryptonian until she had skittered away.

Lex was asleep on the bed before him, totally unconscious, and the door was being knocked on, again. "Yu tekna!" (go away) He roared, moving to stand protectively in front of Lex's body.

Lionel blinked, and filed the language away to ask for a translation later. "Clark? It's me, Lex's father. I'd like to see my son."

Lionel.

Clark only calmed the smallest bit, taking in a breath. Jurnaie. It was okay.

He reminded himself of this as he crossed the room and opened the door the smallest crack to look out into the sunny, streaming hall. "He's fine. Asleep. Go away."

Lionel put his hand flat on the door, keeping it from closing when Clark tried to shut it in his face. "Clark. I don't want to hurt him. I just want to see him. See that he's all right after what he did for me."

"Promise?" He answered, not letting Lionel come in until he had the man's solemn vow he wouldn't hurt his lover.

"I swear to you, Clark. I won't hurt him."

Clark nodded. Alright. Alright, then. He pulled open the door enough for Lionel to slide inside, and ignored him as he walked back to the bed to sit beside his lover. Clark hadn't even changed since coming home all those days ago, but he had cleaned his lover up, washed him down with warm water to prevent shock, and set him in their warm bed.

Clark closed his eyes and rubbed them with the heels of his hands. "He needs rest. Don't stay long."

Lionel looked down at his son, seeing how pale and quiet he was, even against the warm sheets and thick blankets. He would usually have tried to touch Lex's skin, stroke a hand gently over his forehead, but he didn't dare because he knew that Clark would react badly to it.

But it was obvious that he was asleep, unconscious even, and Lionel transferred his glare to Clark. Tired and drawn, two days' unwashed and unrested aura clinging to Clark, and Lionel let his hand drop carefully to Clark's shoulder. "Go. Take a shower, change your clothes, and have coffee. I'll sit with him until you get back. With your abilities it shouldn't take you long."

Wooboy. Clark reacted incredibly bad to that, baring his teeth and snarling at Lionel. "You can't take him away from me! I'm not going anywhere. Get out!"

Lionel stepped back as he was snarled at. "I'm not trying to take him away," Lionel placated, keeping his hands in full view. "But you told me, when I was watching over Dominic, that I had to take care of myself because he needed me to be at my best. Doesn't the same apply to you? Lex deserves nothing but the best, Clark."

Clark, at the gentle words, suddenly gave a wracking chin tremble, and he looked every one of his nineteen years... desperately young and unknowing. "He won't wake up." He croaked, looking at Lex helplessly as he fought to do something with his hands, sticking them in his pockets, then crossing them across his chest, then back to his pockets. "He just lays there. He hasn't even moved. He put up a block... I can't get in to see."

Lionel took cautious steps back over towards Clark, and pulled him quietly into a hug. "He'll wake back up. He will. You told me, the last time his powers surged like this and he used them, he was drained for days, and you had to carry him. This was harder, Clark, but he will come back. He brought Dominic back, and he will come back to you. I promise." He had no way of ensuring that promise, but he made it, because his word was Law.

"I know. I'm sorry for snarling at you." Clark whispered into Lionel's neck, hugging him hard as he kept himself there, in the warm arms that were safe and good. "How..." He cleared his throat and let go, looking up. "How's Dominic?"

"Don't apologize for your natural reactions," Lionel said, and let go when Clark pulled away. "He's resting, and understanding everything that's being told to him. Since his comprehension skills don't seem to be suffering, the doctors are highly optimistic that very little damage--or possibly none--resulted from the attacks. Now that he's awake and responsive, the blood thinners they're administering will clear out the clots, and the attacks will, they believe, end."

"Thank God." Clark said as he rubbed a hand over his face, clearing away the tension he knew was there and rubbing his eyes. "We didn't know if it was going to work. I'm sorry for not telling you, but if you knew I knew you wouldn't have let Lex try. I didn't want to let him try. Stupid, ignorant ass that he is." Clark looked down at his sleeping lover and swallowed hard. "Well, anyway, hey. Go on back to him. You got the other blanket, right?"

"You're absolutely right. I would have emphatically and categorically refused, no matter what." He squeezed Clark's shoulder. "Of course you didn't. Because you love him." He sighed. "Go. You don't want to look like you've been rolling in the gutter when he wakes up. I'm serious, Clark. Take two minutes and shower and change clothes at least, and I'll send Ms. Bird up with coffee."

"Keep him safe, right?"

"You know that I will." Lionel pointed to the empty chair Clark had been sitting in. "I will sit right there, and watch, and wait for you to come back. If anything happens before that, I will call you, all right?"

"Alright."

Clark turned toward the bathroom and, after getting a change of clothes from the closet, locked himself in for a hot shower. He brushed his teeth and shaved the stubble growing on his chin, which had begun to start doing so more often than not these days. He made sure his face was smooth before he climbed into the shower and took a nice, hard shower, scrubbing dirt and grime and sweat away from his skin. He scrubbed his hips, which now that he noticed it had gotten more firm, legs longer, shoulders broader. It was a hassle, really, because he already needed new clothes, and he scrubbed his cock and balls clean before stroking down his legs to his feet. He rinsed out the little towel and lathered it with more soap before washing his face, behind his ears, his neck and shoulder blades.

His hair only took one hard scrub of Head and Shoulders to make it clean again, long when wet, hanging down around his ears and pushed off his forehead. When he climbed out of the shower he dried it quickly, his body as well, and donned clean boxers, socks, shirt and jeans before coming back out into the bedroom.

Lionel just sat quietly by Lex's beside until he could hear the shower running, and then he looked down at his son. He quickly stroked over Lex's skin, finding it not nearly as clammy as he'd expected, and he tucked the blankets in more warmly around his shoulders. "Lex," he said softly. "You have someone out here who is waiting on you, ready to lose his mind without you. I know how he feels; don't leave Clark in the dark alone as long as Dominic left me. Come back to him." He kissed Lex on the forehead, and fell silent again as he heard the shower turn off, and when Clark came out of the bathroom, Lionel was sitting back in the chair, quiet and still, having placed Lex's hand on his stomach to show he hadn't touched.

"He's okay?" Clark asked, as he dropped his towel and dirty clothes in the hamper, before drying his palms and sitting on the bed again beside Lex.

"He's all right," Lionel answered, nodding. "He didn't move a muscle or anything while you were cleaning up."

Clark nodded quietly and looked at Lionel. "Go back to Dominic. I'll call you if anything changes, okay?"

"Yes, please do." Lionel got up and surrendered his chair to Clark. "I'll send Ms. Bird up with coffee, and something for you to eat--you have to promise, however, that you will stop growling at her long enough to say thank you?" He gave Clark a little smile.

Clark blushed. "Yes. Sorry, Lionel." He looked at Lex again and instead of taking the chair, walked to the other side of the bed to stretch out beside his lover and gently pull him close, as Lionel moved to the door.

"It's all right. Just remember--nobody in this house is out to hurt you, or Lex." He watched quietly as Clark pulled Lex close, and gave another small smile, because soon, he'd be able to do that to Dominic. "I'll be at the hospital if you need me; don't be afraid to call, all right?"

"I won't. Be careful on the way there." He answered the man, as he gently tucked Lex's naked head under his chin and wrapped him gently in the blanket.

"I will be." He closed the door to the bedroom behind him, and headed back to his bedroom, packing the bag of clothes, tapes, and blankets before heading back out, pausing only in the kitchen to order lunch for Clark as he headed back to the hospital.

Ms. Bird nodded, and fixed a large platter of chicken and turkey sandwiches, put a half gallon of milk on the tray, as well as half a chocolate bundt cake, and put it all on a little wheeled cart. She wheeled it through the house, not to Clark, but to the library, where she banged on the door until Jor answered. She told him, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't going to get yelled at again, and that this was for his son. Then she pointed to the bedroom and stood with her hands on her hips as she watched him trundle the little tray down to the bedroom.

Jor-El wondered, briefly, when that woman had found out that he was Clark's father, but he didn't worry about it. So she had noticed the familial resemblance and figured it out. He had heard the yelling and the growling from the library down the hall earlier that morning, in fact, and that was why he'd stayed in the upstairs, rather than go back down. He just looked vaguely repulsed at the tray full of meat and animal products in front of him as he banged on the bedroom door.

Clark looked up and just barely held himself from snarling as he stood back up, tucking the blankets around Lex's body, and yanked open the door to roar, "WHAT?"

Oh. And then he saw it was his father and his head immediately dropped as he opened the door more for his father, blushing hotly with shame. "I am sorry, father. Forgive."

Jor-El just looked kindly at his son. "You are protecting your mate, Kal-El. Forgiveness is not necessary, nor should it be asked for. However, since it was, it is freely given." He pushed the little cart into the open door with a little grimace of distaste. "That charming young housekeeper asked me to bring this to you."

Clark looked up, lips twitching at the word 'young' thrown in there. Jor-El had spent a great deal of the first day of Lex's coma-like sleep together, because Clark had been an utter wreck when he'd brought his lover home, but as Jor-El had instructed him to keep Lex in near darkness and warm, he'd done everything in his power to do so. he offered his father the chair by the bed, sinking onto the mattress himself to sit in front of him as he rubbed his fingers through his hair. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jor-El wheeled the tray over, and left it sitting by the bedside as he settled into the chair. "There is no change yet?" he asked softly.

"No change." Clark said softly as he picked up one of the sandwiches and nearly inhaled it, taking big bites and drinking down some of the milk Ms. Bird had set along with it. He hadn't eaten in hours and hours and he was famished. "He hasn't even moved." He said, mouth full.

Jor-El just nodded. "Your aushna' is not used to his abilities," he guessed. "He will take time to recover."

"I know." he looked quietly at his father as he ate. "Father? Can I ask you a serious question?"

"You can ask me any question, my son," Jor-El said, sitting up slightly straighter and focusing all of his formidable attention and intellect on Clark.

"Do you like it here?" Clark lifted his head to look at his father. "Really like it, I mean?"

"Really like it?" Jor-El exhaled softly. "I miss my family's home on Krypton. I miss the Crystal Lakes, and I miss hearing Lara play the crystals from the lake by our home. My sha'nauch and my aushna' are gone; the part of me that feels these things feels the torn threads and I ache with the loss," he finished wearily. "But my son is here," he said with a smile, that suddenly brightened his tired face. "And he has found those things that I have lost--a home, a family, sha'nauch and aushna'. And where my son's happiness is, I cannot help but be happy. So yes, Kal-El, I do like it here."

"Was it a mistake to bring you here?" Clark whispered softly, setting the sandwich down. He'd suddenly lost all of his appetite, and the sandwich he'd already eaten felt like it was landing with all the weight of a stone in his stomach. "Do you wish I hadn't brought you here to be with me?"

"Not at all," Jor-El answered instantly. "My--or, Jor-El's, depending on how you look at things--wish was that you would bring me here with you, or else he--I--would not have created the program in the ship, nor given it the technology to process its substance into living flesh and bone."

"You're happy being alive again?" Clark asked, studying his fathers face. "Even though you've suffered so much, you're still happy?"

"Yes, I am," Jor-El answered, quiet under Clark's scrutiny. "Because my son is here, and my son is happy and healthy. When you are happy and healthy, Kal-El, then I cannot be unhappy."

Clark reached for his fathers hand, tightly, linking their fingers and holding his hand, flesh and bone and blood under his. "I love you so much." He whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "I ask you these things because... because I don't know if Dominic is happy, father, that we brought him back. When Lex was retrieving him... I felt... things."

Jor-El squeezed Clark's hand tightly. "Andes has, if I understand him, gone through many things, most of them experiences that he should not have had to. Yes. You will always feel things from him because of that. But as Lex's determination shows, there is always the choice of life to be made, and that is something you cannot--and should not--hide from. Only through facing our fears and absorbing their lessons can we become stronger. Andes is proof of that."

"Yes, he is. He is. I'm so frightened for him, Father." Clark said softly, as he kissed his fathers hand tightly and leaned up to hug him. "Stay with me? Tell me of mother."

Jor-El hugged Clark tightly, and smiled. "What would you like to know of her?" His mind flooded with memories of her, her smile, the softness of her hair, the soft whisper of her lips against the back of his shoulder during the endless nights of work in the astrolab.

"Everything." Clark saw the smile in his fathers face and returned it, sliding from the bed down to Jor-El's feet, setting his head on his fathers knee as he always did to listen to him, their fingers still linked tightly.

"Your mother was beautiful," Jor-El said, speaking softly. "She would play for me, sometimes, as I worked late into the night. She could never sleep without me near, nor I without her. She would play the most... hauntingly beautiful melodies, so much so they could twine around your brain, slide into the very recesses of your heart, and move you to tears or to smiles, whichever her intention was. And when she finally grew tired, and was ready to sleep, she would come to me, and slide her arms around my neck, and kiss the back of my shoulder. That was her signal to me, and I would leave what I was doing and rise with her, because I would have gone anywhere she led me."

"Was she beautiful?" Clark whispered, listening to his father talk about her as he watched his own lover breathe in his sleep.

"She was," Jor-El answered softly. "She had beautifully shaped eyes, bright green, just as your are, and long sandy lashes that made Mira green with envy. Her lashes were never the length nor the color of Lara's, and she envied them. Neither was Seva's, but my cha'ala never quite cared about making herself beautiful for others. She knew that Lara, Mira and I all found her beautiful, and that was enough for her. Lara didn't need to worry about it either; all who saw her believed her beautiful." He gave a soft smile as he ran his fingers through Clark's hair. "Your hair has her texture; like fine strands of j'hala silk, pressed from the jhaeela blossom."

"Were Mira and Seva good sha'nauch?" Clark asked quietly, as he listened, his fathers fingers in his hair like coming home. He'd never felt as connected to what should have been as he was when his father was sitting with him, telling him of their world and how it used to be, and he relished in these talks more than anything.

"They were," he said. "They were the best sha'nauch we could have asked for. They both loved you as their own child, shared their sorrows and joys with us just as Lara and I shared ours with them, and they made us stronger and we them in return."

"That is how Chloe and Whitney are for us." Nodded from his fathers knee. "They are good sha'nauch, strong and caring. But... it is hard, and different, when they are not of the same species." He looked up at Jor-El. "Not a day goes by that I don't wish Krypton was still here."

Jor-El nodded. "I understand that wish, Kal-El. Perhaps more than you know." He gave a sad sigh as he kept stroking Clark's hair. "I could not bear to see you die, to know that your light, too, had been extinguished with the rest of our people. But I didn't stop to think that perhaps I gave you a far worse fate--that of always being alone and knowing through your genes and your memories that which you can never have."

"You didn't." Clark said softly, as he touched his fathers knee. "You gave me Lex. And he is worth everything in the universe. I would do anything for him, father. I would die for him. He is everything, he is all. I know I can never have what I might have in another place...but I have you. And I have my aushna', and my sha'nauch, and a future here. That is worth everything." He squeezed Jor-El's knee again, and smiled up at him. "I would have done what you did, too, father."

Jor-El smiled at that. "I'm glad to know that your life here, and your aushna', have given you happiness. I'm even happier to know that I could add to that."

"I only wish to make you happy, father. Tell me what I can do to give you more comfort." Clark answered gently.

"You can't," Jor-El said softly. "I am as happy as I can be, because you are."

Clark nodded and squeezed Jor-El's hand tightly. "Father, when Dominic and Lionel finally come home, things are going to change so much. Dominic... he's... different."

"Don't you think you would be?" Jor-El asked softly.

"Yes. But I'm frightened, for Lionel, and for Lex both. I don't know what to expect."

At that, Jor-El grinned. "My son, if you knew what to expect, from everyone, every day, in their life, then you would have been revered as a god on our world. In one of the books in the library, I discovered this quote, and for this I think it's appropriate. It's a dangerous business, stepping out your door. If you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where the road will take you. No one knows, Kal-El. No one knows what will happen from day to day, even moment to moment."

"But its not good to not know!" Clark answered his father's laughter with a sniffle of his own. "Then no one is safe."

"Kal-El, listen to me." Jor-El brought his son's attention back to himself. "You cannot live every moment in fear of what will happen in the next. Nor can you seek to protect the entire world from time itself. Yes, in the next moment we take breath, someone may fall victim to a car accident, be crushed by falling steel, or merely break an extremity or stub a toe. But in that same moment, ten other people may give birth, smile for the first time, find a windfall they didn't expect, or experience the love of an aushna'. To save the ones who are in danger, would you deny the others the happiness?"

"Yes!" Clark stopped… and sulked. "No. But father, I don't want... don't want the people I love and care for to be hurt. I want to keep everyone safe." And yet he knew what his father was saying... he couldn't carry the weight of the world on his spindly little shoulders. So he sighed, and set his cheek back on the bone of his father's knee. "Why must you make sense all the time? Can't you ever be wrong?"

Jor-El's laugh this time was deep and booming. "I am often wrong, Clark. Ask Chloe, if you believe otherwise."

Alright, at that? Clark grinned for the first time in several days and rolled his eyes. "Chloe just talks too much."

"You got that right," croaked Lex from the bed.

Clark was up so fast and beside his lover that his movement was a single blur. He all but squealed, beaming down at his lover like an idiot as he tried to contain his glee. "Lex! Lex!"

Lex clapped his hands to the sides of his head as Clark bounced on the bed. "Yeah, that's my name, last time I looked."

"Sorry!" Clark immediately stopped all but wriggling and jumping up and down, instead leaning down to kiss the hell out of his lover, over and over, sneaking licks and nips as he beamed. "You're okay!"

Lex kissed back, as much as he could, sliding his arms around Clark's waist and squeezing. "Yeah. I'm okay. I just needed to rest." He smiled at Jor-El under Clark's elbow. "Jor. You've been keeping my aushna' company, I see?"

"As much as I could, Kenep." He smiled. "I'm glad to see you awake; he worried for you. Kal-El... I shall leave the two of you alone." He rose from the chair, kissed Clark's forehead, and squeezed Kenep's hand. "Welcome back, Kenep."

Clark all but cheered. Jor-El had called his lover Kenep! He really did let loose with the squeal this time and hugged Lex, then reached up and hugged his dad, than grasped Lex and squeezed and hugged and didn't. Let. GO!

Jor-El grunted at the strong hug, and patted Lex on the hand again. "My wishes go with you, Kenep." He hugged Clark back, and then left the two of them together.

Lex grunted again, and squeezed Clark's waist. "Easy on the goods, Clark."

"Sorry!" He really wasn't, but he pretended to be anyway, as well as grin like a loon. "I missed you! I love you! God, I love you!" he kissed his lover all over his face, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind Jor-El, kissed his lover deeply, tongue sliding in and commanding as he kissed.

Lex wrapped arms and legs that were still tired but definitenly functional around his lover and kissed him back, hands sliding up to stroke through Clark's hair. He didn't fight the kiss nor did he try and take the kiss over, licking his lover's mouth as Clark kissed him back.

"I missed," Kiss, "You," kisskiss "So MUCH!" kissss. Clark held his lover tightly as he finally let go of his mouth, instead grasping him tightly.

Then yelling. Yes. Much yelling.

"You stupid fuck!" Clark yelled, pushing him away and simultaneously pulling him closer. "You nearly got yourself killed!"

Lex's head shook back and forth as Clark decided if he was going to kiss him or kill him. "Did it work?" was the only thing he asked.

"Yes, it worked! You've been unconscious for three fucking days!" Clark yelled, crushing his lover in a hug as gently as possibly even as he wanted to strangle him alive. "You stupid... PERSON!"

Lex blinked as his internal clock adjusted itself. "It worked." He gave a little grin. "Dominic's awake, I'm fine, what are you worried about?"

"You! Are going to be the death of me!" Clark cried, glaring at his lover darkly even as he kissed him again, and once more. "Ms. Bird brought food. Shower, pee, do your thing, and we'll go see him, kay?"

"I'm not." He realized, then, as Clark said pee, that his bladder was nearly bursting. "Yeah, I think the bathroom's a really good idea right about now. Call Dad, and let him know we're coming, okay? So he can clear the family out because I do not want to deal with a babbling blond skittle pelting me with a ton of questions I don't want to answer right now."

"Check. Ixnay on the blonds." He leaned over and kissed Lex very, very gently, and very, very softly. "I'm glad you're okay, baby."

Lex caught his lover's cheek in his hand, stroking over his cheekbone. "I told you I'd come back, Clark," he said softly. "I swore to you on my son's memory that I would, and I did."

"I know." Clark leaned over and kissed Lex again, and then once more, before helping him to his feet. "Go. I'll call. I love you."

"I love you, Clark." He kissed his aushna' deeply, then rolled to his feet and hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

- = - = -

Dominic was craving a cheese sandwich.

Badly.

Here he was, lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to every tube imaginable. It was a horrible feeling, when they were running up your bum and up your dick, in your side, up your nose. Every orifice but his mouth and ears were cheerfully plugged with some sort of tube running in it, and when there wasn't an orifice they *made* one. He'd been told they were giving him about forty CC's of some stuff that looked disgustingly like chocolate milk through the feeding tube in his side, connected to his stomach.

Ergo, cheese sandwich.

Lionel had gone to go get some clothes, he'd said. Graham was with him, and his sisters, but he wasn't really paying attention to them if he was honest with himself. Because, aside from his absolute craving for a cheese sandwich, he had to pee like a racehorse. They were giving him saline and other liquids through the IV in both hand and leg of his right side, and he thought he was going to fucking pee his pants. Everyone had told him it was alright to pee... he had a catheter, so peeing was definitely part of the thing he was supposed to do.

But how on Gods earth could he pee while lying here in bed? it was gross, and wrong.

Had he mentioned the bit about the cheese sandwich?

"... an' Riley's bout reddy t'kill Mama, but when isna tha' th'case?" Graham was ebullient. Little Morgan was awake and he hadn't died, and that was the best news they'd been given in two weeks. "Tis good ta have ye back, boyo. Ye were missed something fierce."

Dominic turned his eyes from the IV, slowly. The left eye wasn't reacting as fast as the right, because of the strokes, and it took him a second to focus on Graham. But when he did he was focused, and he listened to what he said. He hadn't really said anything since he'd woken up... he was afraid too much too much, after all. Plus the whole peeing thing was taking all of his concentration. How the fuck was he supposed to pee? …Oh. Right. The Catheter. But still! It was severely uncomfortable, and he shifted his right leg a little as his eyes closed... then opened again.

"Ye can go, bruther," Graham said, catching the discomfort and the shifting. "Tis been a great many years since ye've been tol' t'go while yer layin' in th'bed, s'do it while ye can, and b'lazy." He grinned.

Yeah. Right. Dominic didn't move to tell him he'd understood, just watching him for truth. He could not pee. With them all HERE! Bullshit. He flickered his eyes away again, the left dragging again, just a little, until he'd focused on the door. Lionel said he'd be back soon, and he'd been in the company of one Mountain Man for far too long. He wanted his lover. Or, even better, privacy so he could pee. And a cheese sandwich.

Graham just nodded, and followed the eye flicker to the door. "Aye, tis aboot time fer that great lug yer married ta t'be gettin' back. I'll be leavin' ye in peace so's ye can take care of your business and send him in when he comes, aye?" He waited for a blink, which was the established signal that he'd understood and agreed.

Dominic turned his head again, just a little, and looked at Graham for a moment until he'd processed what his brother had said. Yes. Leaving was good. Peeing? was better. And he had to pee. Badly. So he blinked at him and his eyes fell to half mast sleepily, shifting again. Peeing. PEEING!

"Aye." Graham got up from the chair and kissed his brother on the forehead. "I'll b'back to see ye later, prob'ly tomarra. Git yerself rested, aye?" He got up, made sure the television was on for Morgan, and paused. "Oh, jest so ye know, yer cat clawed up m'leg the other day. Dunna t'ink he likes me t'much." He smiled as he closed the door, and left Dominic in peace.

Freddie. Oh.

He'd been in a coma for two months, the doctors told him. Even in his foggy mind, which was relieved to think now that he could relieve himself, thank Jesus, was too tired to put too much together. What he did know was that he was fired-- ...wait... no. Lionel was his boss. Lionel wouldn't fire him. ...Right? And Freddie? What of Freddie? Who was taking care of him? Who was doing all of the accounting at work? He must be fired, then, if someone else could take on the job so easily. His lover had been with him everyday... surely Dominic had become quite a burden to bear, being waited on, being visited. They'd gotten sick of him, hadn't they? Maybe they all wanted him to die, instead of waking up.

Lionel came up the hallway only a few minutes after Graham's exit. The burly man met him down at the elevator, seemed to be waiting for him in fact, and his impatience to get back to his lover only allowed for a bare pause and the shrug of a shoulder to follow him. "Graham?"

Graham's long stride kept up easily with Lionel's--one of few men who could. "Aye, he's waitin' fer ye--bin watchin' th'doors since ye left. But, gi'e him a moment more; he's tryin' t'relieve himself and isna used t'the tubes yet."

Lionel nodded impatiently. "Thank you, Graham, for staying with him while I was gone. Have the rest of your family been by?"

"All but th'youngest, an'she's bin wi'her boyfriend e'er since Marghan woke up. Dinna ken wha' is wi'her, but Gideon'll talk t'her tonight and find out." He nodded towards Morgan's closed door. "Ye be good to the lad; 'e'll need t'know ye love him now more'n ever."

Lionel barely restrained the eye roll at being told that. "Thank you again," he finally got out. "But I'm going to go and see him now; if anyone else wishes to visit, they're welcome, all except for your mother. She's worn out her welcome." With that, he left Graham in the hallway, and entered Dominic's hospital room. "Dominic?"

Dominic turned his head to the doorway again, slowly but surely, and oh, his lover. Who must hate him. He hadn't been to work in months. Which was, indeed, terrible. But Lionel loved him, so maybe he wasn't fired. Which in itself, was good. His throat didn't feel so sore when he'd woken up today, probably because he didn't have tubes stuck all down it. So when Lionel came close, and leaned over him, he licked his incredibly dry lips, though Lionel himself had been keeping them wet with little swab things that tasted like condoms, and tried for words. "C.."

"Go slowly," Lionel said, pressing a soft, light kiss on the lips that were working so hard to speak to him. "I love you." He pressed another light kiss on his lover's mouth, and then looked to the bedside. There was a little bowl of ice chips, and he placed one on his lover's mouth, watching it melt and watching the cool moisture trickle over dry lips and tongue. "Slowly, Jiminy."

Oh yes. Ice? Good. He waited for it to melt, thanking god for it, and opened his slightly gummy eyes again. Lionel had called him Jiminy. Maybe he wasn't fired after all! Alright. Here we go. He cleared his throat a little, as the Speech Therapist had told him to do as often as possible, and tried again. And said it!!! YES! ...But he was very sure Lionel hadn't heard it, because he hadn't actually spoken. So...one more time. "Ch... eese. S'nd… ich."

"A cheese sandwich?" Lionel gave him a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "I don't quite think you're up to swallowing a cheese sandwich right now, little cricket." But it made his chest lighten immeasurably, to hear Dominic's voice again, live and in the flesh, asking for a cheese sandwich when he could barely sit upright. That, that little act, in and of itself, was the prime example of everything and anything he loved about this man. "Can I interest you in flavored ice instead? I know they have the ice pops down in the snack shop. Orange, grape, there's several red ones, and a yellow one which I am assuming to be lemon."

Dominic glared. Just... glared. Flavored ice. Bullshit! He wanted a cheese sandwich dammit!

Lionel smile widened even more at the glare. "And there is my little cricket." He swept his fingers gently over his lover's, and picked up the still-limp hand that needed exercise and therapy, and started to gently flex the wrist and fingers as he held them clasped between his own palms. "I'm sorry, but flavored ice is the best I can offer right now."

What. A. Jip. Dominic didn't bother asking again...it had exhausted him saying he wanted a cheese sandwich as it was. And if he wasn't going to get it, fine. He looked over Lionel's shoulder, looking at the chocolate milk shit hanging on the IV stand and threading through the tube to his side, which, ew. But, hey. He'd peed. And he supposed eating a cheese sandwich would in turn make him need to shit later on, and that was a horror he hadn't been through just yet, and didn't want to go through. He'd rather be up and walking about and king of his commode than do anything in a hospital bed. So instead he cleared his throat again, the icky terrible mucus stuff at the back of his throat making it gross to do so, and twitched his fingers in Lionel's slow massaging embrace. "Gr..uh..oss."

Lionel nodded. "I know it is. Do we need to raise you up a bit further, or should I call for the nurse to suction you out again?" he asked calmly, still rubbing and massaging the fingers in his hands.

God, no. The woman who'd come and so called suctioned his throat had whacked him on the back so hard he was sure his kidneys had come out of his nose. So he just shook his head a little, clearing his throat again, and shifted again, and once more, tiredly.

"Yes, I know. You're tired." He rubbed Dominic's hand gently, and let the now-warm, but still limp fingers fall from his. "I have... something for you. I've been dying to bring it to you, but the doctors haven't let me, until now." He looked in the top of the bag, and brought out the large down quilt. "Here. This should help to keep you warm, and be like a little slice of home to boot." He fluffed it out, and held it up. "Do you want me to spread it out for you?"

Oh. God. YES. He'd been cold since he'd woken up, so he just looked at the blanket for a few moments, trying to remember what to say, then gave a whispered, "Y...es." Cozy and warm and he wanted it so bad. All these tubes and wires and coldness made him feel like a live in robot, and he wanted Lionel here with him again, sitting here next to him. He moved his hand, just a little, toward his lover, hoping Lionel would get close. Close was good.

"I thought you might like this." Lionel gave a large smile as he spread the quilt over the bed, tucking it in around his lover's feet, then up around his chest and leaving his arms free, for now. "There, there we go. Warmer?" He gave Dominic another kiss, and then scooted up closer to the side of the bed, so that he could hold Dominic's hand against his chest. "I love you."

Oh yes. He would have liked Lionel IN the fucking bed with him, but alas. He gave a soft sigh as the heat of the blanket warmed him up, soft and cozy, and his hand was held against Lionel's chest. He opened his mouth, and got the first two letters out, "L… lo..." but he was so tired, and he closed his eyes as he began to fall asleep.

"I'm here, little cricket. I'm here." Lionel kept his lover's hand close to his chest, kissing his fingers gently. "I'm here."

 

-fin-

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