Sam sighed.“You know when you said that stuff it sounded like—”
Ian held up a hand.“Yeah, I got schooled by Nik in what it sounded like to you.”
“But you don’t want to break up?”Sam whispered.
“No, I swear.”Ian leaned forward and kissed him tentatively.“Ireallydon’t want to break up with you.I just, I have a lot to tell you.There’s some stuff I need to say, kiddo.”Ian kissed him again, and looked at him as if afraid whatever awful thing he was about to say would make Sam dump him.
Sam could imagine very few things that would cause him to do that.“Like you have a wife and kids?”
“What?No, neither!”
“It was a joke,” Sam told him.Ian relaxed.“Sort of.”
“Okay, kiddo, are you listening?”
Sam lifted his head to listen.
Ian squeezed his hand.“I don’t have another boyfriend or a husband, I don’t have any STDs, I don’t have ...what else are you worried about?”
“I can’t think of anything else.”
“Okay, it’s nothing like any of those things.”
“I think you need to just say it and put yourself out of your misery.”He dropped his head back on his pillow with a sigh.Ow.“Then I could stop worrying too.”
Ian took a deep breath.“I’m seeing a therapist,” he spat out.
Sam blinked at him, a couple of times.“And?”
“Hell,” he muttered, then added, “I have a screwed-up family.”
“Oh,” Sam said carefully.Then he reached up to stroke Ian’s cheek.“This is what you were so worried about telling me?”
“Not really, it’s just where I’m starting.”
Sam’s fingers moved back, combing through Ian’s hair.“How long have you been worried about this?”
“Hello,” someone said, barging through the curtain.“I’m Doctor Abanji.”
And so began a half hour of torture by the fine doctor Abanji, involving questions about who the president was and the date, then lots of prodding of his head and chest, and finally some of the “good” drugs Urban had been talking about.At which point, Sam began the giggling again.Urban remarked more than once on his trips in and out of the cubicle that it was “darling” the way Sam’s giggling made Ian smile and kiss him.
“Go away,” Sam giggled.“He’s mine.”
“Don’t worry, honey, I have my own at home.I’m thinking about getting myself hit in the head and seeing if he’s as sweet to me as your Ian is to you.”
Sam giggled.Urban turned and said something to Ian about police and interviews that Sam didn’t quite catch, but managed to make Ian act like a protective bear.“No, he needs to rest,” Ian barked at whatever Urban said.
“Oh, it’s my bear laird,” Sam giggled.Ian went red but kissed him again anyway.
Sam didn’t really remember what happened after that.He might have giggled himself off to sleep or something, but he zoned back in when he heard Ian’s voice, low but angry.“He can’t answer your questions right now.He’s not even conscious.Exactly.He giggles every time anyone speaks to him.”Sam could see him talking to someone standing just outside the curtain.
“I do?”Sam rasped.His throat felt dry and his head still drummed, but not as painfully.
Ian came back to his side, taking his hand again and kissing his head.“Hey squirrel,” he murmured, brushing Sam’s hair off his face.
“Can I have some water?”Sam croaked.Someone came up behind Ian and held out a cup.Ian gave the owner of the hand a dirty look, but took it and helped Sam drink from it.
“Sam, this is Detective Johnson.He wants to ask you about what happened, if you can remember,” Ian grumped.
