closest to the target.”
Alex still didn’t get it. Another moment passed and then he did.
“Oh!” Alex sighed, “Of course.”
Chapter 11
Steve shot up in bed to a seated position. His right hand instinctively went to the pain on his head where Alpha had struck him. Groping, Steve felt his temple as he surveyed the area and recognized Chris’ apartment. He was on Chris’ pull out sofa bed. It was only then he looked to his left and realized Chris was sitting on the side of the bed shaking a cold pack.
“That was some kind of nightmare.” Chris pointed out.
“It was?” The tremor in Steve’s voice was unmistakable. Chris quickly caught on to the seriousness of Steve’s state of mind.
“Steve, you have a grade +1 to +2 concussion. It’s going to take you out of circulation for a little while. I’ve shot you up with some anti-inflammatory medications which will help you feel better, but the only way to really heal from a concussion is to rest. In the meantime, you may have some unusual experiences—memory loss, hallucinations, nightmares.”
A moment of silence passed before Chris spoke again.
“Do you want some Valium? I’ve got a whole medicine chest filled with goodies if you need it,” Chris said with some mild cheer.
“No thanks,” Steve replied while letting the political incorrectness on Chris’ part slide without comment. “I just need a minute to get my wits back.”
“You want some quiet time? I can get out of your hair for a little while if you want to try to sleep some more.”
Steve was still struggling to remember and talking seemed to be helping quiet his nerves.
“No. I don’t think I want to sleep, even if I need it. I would rather relax and talk if you don’t have to be anywhere.”
An unusual look crossed over Chris’ face, but whatever it was he dropped the subject rather than bring it up.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Nothing we can’t talk about later.” Chris handed the ice pack to Steve. “I was bringing this to you. Put it on your head wherever it hurts.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. So I guess I should ask if you got the license plate number of the truck that hit you,” Chris said with a smile. “Or is this a ‘You should see the other guy’ scenario.”
“You have no idea how well the second one applies.”
“You get your licks in?” Chris seemed eager for a story. He certainly deserved it after all he had done. Steve looked down to see he was wearing the most God-awful pajamas with small pictures of Spongebob Squarepants emblazoned all over the fabric. He was also clean and smelled of Ivory soap as opposed to rancid garbage.
Steve looked up at Chris and raised an eyebrow.
Catching on, Chris replied, “Yeah, I stripped you. Washed you; shaved my name in your chest hair, put you in my favorite PJ’s and put you to bed. What of it? Are you being ungrateful or something?”
Steve stared wide-eyed at Chris. He had flashed him that look solely because of the pajamas. Now he had to seriously resist the urge to look down and open the pajama top to check his chest hair.
“No. I really can’t express how much I owe you. Thanks for finding me.”
Chris was shaken by the overly sincere tone in Steve’s voice and his own voice faltered.
“Oh...Well... No problem, I mean, how long have we known each other? Fifteen years?” Steve nodded, “over a decade for sure.”
“So it’s nothing. I know you’d do the same for me.”
Steve knew that was true, but he wondered if he would be more reluctant than Chris had been. Being a cop had hardened him. Being a Medical Examiner was no picnic either, but Chris seemed to cope with it far better than Steve was able to deal with his job.
“Sometimes I forget myself Chris. I know it’s the job but I don’t want to make excuses…”
Chris cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Stop. Stop. Stop. This is starting to sound way too sappy, sentimental and just a little bit gay. Not that I don’t find
Alex still didn’t get it. Another moment passed and then he did.
“Oh!” Alex sighed, “Of course.”
Chapter 11
Steve shot up in bed to a seated position. His right hand instinctively went to the pain on his head where Alpha had struck him. Groping, Steve felt his temple as he surveyed the area and recognized Chris’ apartment. He was on Chris’ pull out sofa bed. It was only then he looked to his left and realized Chris was sitting on the side of the bed shaking a cold pack.
“That was some kind of nightmare.” Chris pointed out.
“It was?” The tremor in Steve’s voice was unmistakable. Chris quickly caught on to the seriousness of Steve’s state of mind.
“Steve, you have a grade +1 to +2 concussion. It’s going to take you out of circulation for a little while. I’ve shot you up with some anti-inflammatory medications which will help you feel better, but the only way to really heal from a concussion is to rest. In the meantime, you may have some unusual experiences—memory loss, hallucinations, nightmares.”
A moment of silence passed before Chris spoke again.
“Do you want some Valium? I’ve got a whole medicine chest filled with goodies if you need it,” Chris said with some mild cheer.
“No thanks,” Steve replied while letting the political incorrectness on Chris’ part slide without comment. “I just need a minute to get my wits back.”
“You want some quiet time? I can get out of your hair for a little while if you want to try to sleep some more.”
Steve was still struggling to remember and talking seemed to be helping quiet his nerves.
“No. I don’t think I want to sleep, even if I need it. I would rather relax and talk if you don’t have to be anywhere.”
An unusual look crossed over Chris’ face, but whatever it was he dropped the subject rather than bring it up.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Nothing we can’t talk about later.” Chris handed the ice pack to Steve. “I was bringing this to you. Put it on your head wherever it hurts.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. So I guess I should ask if you got the license plate number of the truck that hit you,” Chris said with a smile. “Or is this a ‘You should see the other guy’ scenario.”
“You have no idea how well the second one applies.”
“You get your licks in?” Chris seemed eager for a story. He certainly deserved it after all he had done. Steve looked down to see he was wearing the most God-awful pajamas with small pictures of Spongebob Squarepants emblazoned all over the fabric. He was also clean and smelled of Ivory soap as opposed to rancid garbage.
Steve looked up at Chris and raised an eyebrow.
Catching on, Chris replied, “Yeah, I stripped you. Washed you; shaved my name in your chest hair, put you in my favorite PJ’s and put you to bed. What of it? Are you being ungrateful or something?”
Steve stared wide-eyed at Chris. He had flashed him that look solely because of the pajamas. Now he had to seriously resist the urge to look down and open the pajama top to check his chest hair.
“No. I really can’t express how much I owe you. Thanks for finding me.”
Chris was shaken by the overly sincere tone in Steve’s voice and his own voice faltered.
“Oh...Well... No problem, I mean, how long have we known each other? Fifteen years?” Steve nodded, “over a decade for sure.”
“So it’s nothing. I know you’d do the same for me.”
Steve knew that was true, but he wondered if he would be more reluctant than Chris had been. Being a cop had hardened him. Being a Medical Examiner was no picnic either, but Chris seemed to cope with it far better than Steve was able to deal with his job.
“Sometimes I forget myself Chris. I know it’s the job but I don’t want to make excuses…”
Chris cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Stop. Stop. Stop. This is starting to sound way too sappy, sentimental and just a little bit gay. Not that I don’t find
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