28
Finn stared intently at his TV screen, his fingers dancing over the control console as he worked through a difficult level of his new Super Mario Brothers game. Making his way past the game’s obstacles was enough of a mental challenge to help him forget his limited mobility thanks to the cast on his leg, but it didn’t wear him out. He’d learned the hard way that his stamina wasn’t up to normal levels yet postsurgery when he’d tried to make what he thought would be a quick run to the convenience store down the block. He’d hobbled on his crutches for maybe twenty or so meters beyond the entrance of his building before he realized he’d never make it to the store and back, so he’d returned to his apartment and called Herc to take him up on the offer to arrange some useful services.
He’d thought Herc would set up a grocery delivery, but instead, he now had a housekeeper and a personal chef. The housekeeper had spent the better part of a week deep cleaning his apartment, and Finn had never felt more shame for his negligent attitude toward housework than when she pointedly stared at him while carrying the second garbage bag she’d filled out of his bedroom. Now she only came three mornings per week for routine cleaning, and in the interim, Finn made more of an effort to tidy up after himself, especially since he liked how clean and organized his apartment looked.
After the first day with his housekeeper, he’d felt apprehensive about meeting his personal chef, and he was relieved when Ezra “Ghost” Levin arrived with canvas bags of groceries in hand. Ezra had gone to culinary school with the intentions of being a chef after he retired from Hercules Security, but that plan hadn’t worked out as intended, so now he headed the training facility Herc had set up outside of DC. Ezra was an excellent cook, and he made sure Finn ate well—and far more healthily than the pizza Finn routinely had delivered when he was on his own.
At first, Finn loitered around the kitchen when Ezra was in there in hopes of getting a taste of whatever Ezra was preparing, but he became so fascinated by the process that Ezra started giving him cooking lessons so he could stop relying so much on takeout.
Ezra wasn’t the only merc to visit Finn, either. Finn got calls and texts asking if he was up for visitors almost every day, and he had company whenever he wanted it. Payne was one of the regulars, which wasn’t surprising since Payne was also a medic and had strong caretaker instincts. When he needed distraction from worrying about Joe and Drew, or when he felt himself chafing against the restrictions of his recuperation process, Finn called on the mercs. They always came through.
But at night, he was left alone with his thoughts, which constantly strayed to Pakistan. He was relieved when Drew texted to let him know the mission was finished, but his relief was tempered by concern over Joe. Rather than coming straight home, Joe and Drew were staying in Pakistan for an undetermined amount of time, and while Drew was keeping him updated and it sounded like Joe was doing better, Finn was ready to see for himself. He hated not being there when Joe needed him most, and he wasn’t sure how he could ever repay Drew for helping Joe in his stead.
He finally finished the level and paused the game, debating whether he wanted to keep playing, or see if anyone was available to come over. The last time they’d talked, Drew had been evasive about when he and Joe might be returning home at last, which was disappointing and discouraging. His friends had rallied around him, but that didn’t take the place of being able to snuggle up with his lovers and reassure himself they were both okay.
Before he could make up his mind, the doorbell rang, and he grabbed his crutches, hauled himself upright, and hobbled over to answer the door.
To his surprise, Joe stood on the welcome mat, with Drew right behind him. Drew had a hand on Joe’s shoulder, as though offering support or encouragement, and Joe wore a pensive expression, as though uncertain of his welcome. He also looked paler and thinner than he had three weeks before, and there were lines beside his mouth that Finn had never seen.
“Surprise,” Joe said softly, his lips quirking up in a lopsided attempt at a smile. “We’re home.”
Instinct and emotion took over. Finn dropped his crutches and threw his arms around Joe. His throat closed up, and his eyes stung with tears as he clung to Joe, relief and joy roiling through him.
“You’re home,” he echoed, pressing his nose against Joe’s neck so he could breathe in Joe’s warm, familiar scent.
Finn felt Joe’s strong arms around him, holding him close and tight. Joe gave a shuddering sigh and then pressed his lips against Finn’s temple. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Finn closed his eyes and leaned against Joe, grateful to have Joe in his arms safe and sound at last. “I was worried about you.”
“I was worried about you, too.” Joe’s voice was deep and ragged. “And Drew, poor bastard, was worried about both of us.”
Finn pulled back enough that he could smile at Drew, feeling torn. He wanted to embrace Drew as well, but he didn’t want to hurt Joe. From what little he’d heard over the past couple of weeks, it sounded like they had at least struck a truce, so maybe it would be okay under the circumstances.
“I missed you, too,” he said as he hopped over to Drew, who reached out immediately to steady him. “I’m glad you’re both home safe.”
“It’s good to be home,” Drew said, pulling him into a tight embrace. “But maybe we can continue this reunion inside? You need to sit down.”
“Definitely,” Joe agreed. He swiped away what might have been tears from his eyes, and smiled more naturally. “We’re going to have to keep an eye on him, Drew. Finn is a great medic and a lousy patient, trust me.”
Finn shot a startled look at Joe, surprised by his inclusive wording. Maybe things had gone even better between them than he thought? He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high, though, so he decided not to comment. Instead, he stuck out his tongue at Joe.
“I’ve been good,” he said. “Mostly.”
“Uh-huh.” Drew raised a dubious eyebrow as he released Finn and bent to pick up the crutches.
“Come on, you.” Joe wrapped an arm around Finn’s waist. “I’ll help you to the couch, then we can talk.”
Finn let Joe assist him while Drew followed with the crutches. He claimed the middle spot and patted the cushions on either side to make sure they both sat beside him and no one retreated to the nearby recliner chairs.
Joe sat down on the left, sighing as he relaxed back against the sofa cushions, putting one hand gently on Finn’s thigh above the cast. “How are you doing, really?” he asked, his brown eyes full of concern. “Are you having much pain? Are you getting around okay?”
Finn covered Joe’s hand with his own and offered a reassuring smile. “I’m doing good. The pain isn’t as bad as it was right after surgery, and I can get around the apartment just fine. Herc arranged for a housekeeper to come a few times per week, Ghost’s been making sure I eat healthy, and the guys have kept me company when I needed it.”
“You haven’t been pushing too hard, have you?” Drew asked as he settled in on Finn’s other side after propping the crutches against an end table.
“No, I figured out my limits pretty quick,” Finn said wryly.
“Good. You need to rest up and heal.” Joe squeezed Finn’s thigh lightly, as though afraid of hurting him with too much pressure. “I’m sorry I… we… haven’t been here to help you. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this without us.”
