Warrior’s Cross

Chapter Five

It was quiet in the hospital room now that the doctors and nurses had come and gone. Tucked into the bed, Cameron looked pale and even smaller than usual with the oxygen tube set in his nose and the IV in his arm. He was out cold, drugged to the gills—both to counteract the drugs he’d been given by the Convenient Care doctor and to treat what was really wrong.

Pneumonia, the doctors said, and a really bad case of it.

X-rays confirmed the fluid filling Cameron’s lungs, and it had worried the doctors enough that he had been admitted immediately.

They’d even considered a breathing tube. Now, with Cameron settled, Julian paced restlessly in the hospital room, his overcoat and scarf trailing behind him like a supervillain’s cape as he prowled.

Long minutes passed before a nurse came in to check Cameron’s vitals again. She paused just inside the door, surprised to see the dark-clad man there. “Hello?”

“How is he?” Julian asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

The nurse gave him a look and went to check the machines hooked up to Cameron. “He’s just fine,” she told him. “Reacting well to the medicine and resting easy.” She looked back at Julian in slight annoyance but then seemed to notice the tension in him. “You don’t have to stay. I promise we’ll take good care of him,” she offered.

“I have nothing more important to do,” Julian responded without tearing his eyes away from Cameron.

Her expression softened. “You may be more comfortable in the chair,” she said. “There’s a cafeteria downstairs; it’s open twenty-four hours. Don’t you get sick too,” she scolded gently as she left the room.

Julian meant to murmur a thank-you as she left the room, but his attention was all on Cameron. He moved closer, his mouth dry and his chest tight. Cameron’s face was still, drawn, and shadowed. Even asleep, he looked exhausted. Julian reached to touch him but stopped before his fingers made contact. It wouldn’t do to wake him.

He examined Cameron carefully, feeling sick over just the thought of what might have happened. He moved impulsively and this time ran his fingers gently through Cameron’s hair. Heat still radiated from him, despite how pale he looked. Deep in the drug-induced sleep, he was totally relaxed against the mattress.

“Don’t you do this to me again,” Julian whispered to him. He’d faced many things in his life that most people never faced, but he was not immune to terror. He’d discovered tonight that being scared for someone you cared about was an entirely different animal from simply fearing for your own life and limb.

He turned slightly when he felt someone else enter the room.

“Shall I park in the overnight lot, sir?” Preston asked him in the same soft tone Julian usually used.

“No,” Julian answered with a shake of his head. “You may go for the night, Preston. Thank you for your speed.”

“Yes, sir,” the man murmured with a nod of his head. “Will he be okay?”

Julian simply nodded and turned back around.

Soft footsteps shifted a little outside the door, and the nurse re-entered just after Preston departed. She looked at Julian sympathetically as she moved closer and changed one of Cameron’s IV bags.

“You’re Mr . . .?”

“Bailey,” Julian answered softly as he watched her hands move.

He’d slipped enough bags of tainted saline past hospital security to know how it was done, and he found he couldn’t quite bring himself to trust anyone completely. Definitely not with Cameron’s health and safety.

“Mr. Bailey. Visiting hours are over at eight for non-family members,” she said. “So from now on, you’re his brother,” she advised.

“Thank you,” Julian said to her sincerely as he looked back at Cameron and chewed worriedly on his lower lip.

“I’ll be in every couple hours to check on him. He should sleep well into tomorrow.” She gave him another smile and left just as quietly as she’d come.

Julian stood for several more moments before he gently took Cameron’s hand and sank into the chair beside the bed to wait.

The night passed mostly undisturbed, and although the noise around them picked up come morning, the closed door to the room kept most of it out as the sun reached the angle to shine in the window and fall across the blanket that covered Cameron.

Julian slumped in the chair next to the bed, finally having fallen asleep just thirty minutes before sunrise. He jerked awake and sat up as the sun hit him, blinking away the grogginess as he looked around.

When he relaxed and looked back down, Cameron was watching him.

“Hi,” Julian greeted in surprise.

Cameron’s mouth opened just enough that he could moisten his lower lip with his tongue. His reply was barely audible. “Hi.”

“You scared me,” Julian whispered immediately, unable to think of anything else to say.

Cameron’s eyes widened slightly. “Sorry,” he whispered, fingers tightening on the blanket.

Julian reached up and ran his fingers through Cameron’s hair. “Go back to sleep,” he urged softly.

Eyes fluttering, Cameron turned his head just slightly against Julian’s fingers. He pulled in a very slow breath, his lungs still clogged with fluid. “Okay,” he managed in a thread of his normal voice before dropping off quickly.

Julian watched him silently as he felt the minutes ticking by, knowing he needed to leave very soon. Finally, he stood up and turned around to find Preston standing silently in the doorway.

“Your appointment, sir,” the man reminded. Julian nodded.

Cameron slept peacefully, half in the sunshine. He was still pale and very ill, but something about him looked better. Julian watched him longingly for a moment, and then he swept out of the room with Preston at his heels.

Julian rested his head against the damp brick wall behind him and closed his eyes. Preston stood beside him, calmly loading a spare clip as they waited.

“I’m certain you could postpone your appointment until tomorrow, sir,” Preston said softly as the clink of each round snapping into the clip echoed through the early morning.

“We know where he is right now,” Julian argued without opening his eyes. “We won’t tomorrow.”

“We’ll know again soon,” Preston pointed out confidently.

Julian opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at his companion. The man’s icy blue eyes were as emotionless as ever, but Julian knew him well enough to see a hint of worry in his expression.

“You’re tired,” Preston observed as he pushed the last round into the clip and slid it into his pocket. “Mistakes could be made.”

Julian nodded distractedly. He was thinking more of Cameron lying unconscious in the hospital than about the job at hand. Which was bad, to say the least.

The man they targeted wasn’t atypical, as far as Julian’s targets went. He was crooked and probably skimming off the wrong people.

He’d definitely pissed someone off. He was nervous and paranoid. He had bodyguards. He had security coming out his ass. He took a different route to work every morning, and he split his nights between four different condos throughout the city.

Julian didn’t know what he did or why he needed to be confronted.

His job today was not to kill the man. They were there to scare him and drive him further into his shell. From the little Julian had observed of him, they were probably going to cause a nervous breakdown. But mental defects as the end result of his work were not his problem.

Whether the man ended up six feet under or in therapy was not his concern unless his orders specifically said to put him there.

“Sir?” Preston prodded gently.

Julian nodded and rubbed his tired eyes, trying to banish the vision of Cameron from them so he could focus on work. “You know the plan?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes, sir. It’s not a very good one,” Preston observed neutrally.

“We’re taking a few shots at him to scare him. It takes more skill to miss intentionally than it does to hit the target,” Julian reminded.

“If we’re attempting to make ourselves look second-rate then why not simply lob a bottle of flaming vodka at his car and run away?” Preston asked in a flat voice.

“Because with my luck, we’d actually kill the bastard,” Julian answered grimly. He checked his weapon, a hot automatic he’d bought off a jittery man in the back of a stolen van several nights before.

Anything they could do with this job to make it look amateur, they had done. “Ready?” he asked his companion.

“Yes, sir, by all means,” Preston drawled as he pulled a black ski mask over his head. “Let’s go get shot at.”

Cameron stuck his thumb in the book and closed it as he reached out to pick up the glass of ice water and take a careful swallow. He set it down with a wince and let his head fall back against the raised mattress behind him, surprised at how tired even that simple action made him.

He felt better even though he was still weak, and his chest still hurt so badly. Miri had come by to catch him up on what was going on at the restaurant and with the dogs. He caught her looking at him funny a few times, but she never said anything. He was too tired to try to figure out why. She’d brought him a few books, a top-secret ramekin of crème br?lée from the pastry chef, and a promise to visit again very soon.

So he’d slept and then slept some more. He’d read a little bit and even managed to get some food down since the nurses wanted to take out the IV line sooner rather than later. He grimaced. It just hurt so much to swallow. He sighed and looked out the window at the cityscape, his mind wandering.

When he turned his attention back to the room, Julian’s large shadow darkened the doorway. Cameron’s breath caught, and he swallowed on the cough that threatened. “Hey,” he managed to rasp.

“Hello,” Julian returned as he cocked his head in familiar fashion and looked around the room warily. His cheekbone was badly scuffed, and his eyes appeared shadowed and dark. He looked exhausted. “How are you?” he asked.

“A little better,” Cameron said in his ruin of a voice. He peered at Julian, seeing the marks on his face and the slump of his broad shoulders. “Are you okay?” He gestured to his own eye to echo what he saw on Julian.

“Better now,” Julian answered quietly as he moved into the room, a slight limp slowing him. He didn’t otherwise outwardly acknowledge the purpose of the question.

Cameron didn’t move. He simply tracked Julian’s movement with his eyes and frowned slightly. Julian was hurt; that much was obvious.

“Better?” He sounded like he didn’t quite believe him.

“Seeing you,” Julian clarified. “I worried for you.”

The corner of Cameron’s mouth quirked up. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t exactly plan on getting sick.”

Julian shook his head as he took Cameron’s hand and sat on the edge of the bed. “When do you get to go home?”

Cameron curled his fingers through Julian’s. “Couple days, maybe,” he said. “Nurse says I’m doing good.” He swallowed hard, but had to cough. It was still a hacking, painful sound.

Julian scowled and nodded, looking around the room again. “I see you’ve had visitors,” he observed.

Cameron’s free fingers brushed over the book. “Blake came by this morning. And Miri too.”

“She may well have saved you,” Julian informed him.

“She got me here?” Cameron asked, not remembering much of anything from the past couple days.

Julian looked down at the floor sadly and then up at Cameron with a weak smile. “In a way.”

Cameron shook his head slightly. “In a way? She did or didn’t. Don’t remember, but I thought I was carried.” He looked at Julian speculatively. “Miri couldn’t do that.”

“No,” Julian agreed readily.

Cameron turned his head against the pillow so he could see Julian better. “You can,” he whispered.

Julian leaned forward, letting his thumb slide against the inside of Cameron’s wrist. “I can,” he confirmed.

“You did. Carried me down,” Cameron said in broken sentences to save his throat. “Oh God, Julian, what if you fell?”

“Then I’d have called an ambulance,” Julian responded calmly. “And cried.”

Cameron sighed, trying not to laugh. His eyes didn’t waver from Julian’s face. “My hero,” he rasped.

“At your service,” Julian murmured with a hint of a smile, though it was tempered by the worry in his dark eyes as he stared down at their linked fingers. He looked up at Cameron and met his eyes. “I’ve not been that terrified in quite some time,” he whispered, unashamed.

Cameron’s chest ached with more feeling than pain, but he couldn’t name it. He turned his free hand to press his palm to Julian’s cheek. “I’m okay,” he said softly.

Julian looked down and nodded jerkily.

Cameron gazed at him, stroking his cheek. He was content just having Julian there. “I feel better already.”

“We need to talk,” Julian told him abruptly.

Cameron’s body grew cold with dread, but he licked his parched lips and nodded. “Okay.”

“I was afraid... I feared you’d been hurt because of me,” Julian told him, his words measured.

Cameron frowned, not trying to hide his confusion. “What do you mean ‘because of you’?”

Julian broke the eye contact again with a sigh.

Cameron frowned. “Julian?” he prodded.

“What do you think I do, Cameron?” Julian asked, not looking up.

Letting his head turn to the side against the pillows, Cameron thought about it. “I guess a detective of some sort. I don’t know. Some investigative kind of job.” He shrugged. “At one time I thought you might be a male escort,” he added with a soft laugh.

Julian looked up quickly in surprise. “A what?” His voice edged up into a near squeak.

“Just that one night, when the woman came into the restaurant and made the joke about being a prostitute,” Cameron admitted, trying not to smile at Julian’s reaction. “I didn’t know anything about you, and some of the things you said...” He flushed and shook his head. “I didn’t seriously think that,” he said as he backpedaled.

Julian blinked at him, mulling that over. “That’d make a pretty good cover,” he muttered to himself finally.

Cameron stifled a laugh, and it came out as a snort. “You could certainly pull it off,” he said.

“Shut up,” Julian said with a soft laugh.

Smiling, Cameron reached out and slid his fingers along Julian’s cheek. “Who could resist you?”

Julian pursed his lips and lowered his head so Cameron wouldn’t have to shift to touch him. “I deal with some dangerous people,” he said as his eyes darted to the door of the hospital room. “I was afraid someone had found out about you.”

Cameron watched Julian’s face, something he’d taken to doing to try to learn to read the other man, who wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information, much less many emotions. Hearing him say something so specific was unnerving. “Which would put me in danger?” he asked awkwardly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Yes,” Julian whispered without looking up.

Cameron could tell Julian was serious. Very much so. He forced himself to swallow and flinched when it hurt. “What kind of danger?”

“Are there different kinds?” Julian asked.

Cameron tensed. “I suppose there’s getting-hurt danger, and then there’s the end-up-dead kind of danger,” he said shakily.

Julian was silent, his head still lowered as if he was afraid to look up.

Cameron drew his hand back, watching it tremble. “Is this... this fear, is it what you deal with every day?” It hurt. It scared him to think that Julian might live in fear day in and day out.

“Every day but Friday,” Julian answered without pause.

Cameron pressed his lips together, at this point hurting and more afraid for his lover than for himself. “Julian, please look at me.”

Julian winced and looked up slowly, meeting Cameron’s eyes regretfully.

Cameron had a difficult time understanding the conflict in those black eyes. He’d never seen the emotion there before. But then, he’d never seen Julian afraid before. “Is it worth it? Spending time with me?”

Julian winced again and shook his head disbelievingly. “You’re asking me if spending time with you is worth you getting hurt?” he asked.

“You already made that decision. Didn’t you?” Cameron pointed out evenly, although his heart was pounding anxiously. “Just by asking me to take a walk in the snow on Christmas Eve.”

Julian pulled away as if Cameron had smacked him, and he sat back in the chair in a daze.

Cameron watched his reaction solemnly. “I wouldn’t change it,” he said. “Not for anything. I hoped... you felt the same.”

“I can’t say that I do,” Julian breathed in an offended voice. “I wouldn’t have you hurt.”

A no-win situation, for sure. Cameron’s breath caught painfully, and he had to look away to blink through the upset as he tried to draw in air without coughing. When he thought he had it under control, he spoke. “So now what?” came out in a clogged rasp. It wasn’t logical that he would choose Julian over his own safety, Cameron knew. He would, though, and logic be damned.

“I should have told you from the beginning,” Julian told him softly. “I should have let you know the danger, and I’m sorry for not doing it. I can’t make your choices for you, though.”

Cameron would have laughed if he could have gotten enough air to do it. Julian was talking himself in circles, obviously struggling with the topic just as much as he was. “No, you can’t,” he said weakly before finally having to cough hard as Julian watched him helplessly.

Gasping for breath, Cameron closed his eyes after the effort. “I wouldn’t change it,” he whispered, opening watery eyes to look at Julian. “Please don’t make me.”

Julian lowered his head to try to hide the relief in his eyes. “I won’t,” he promised with difficulty.

Struggling through several shortened breaths, Cameron curled his hands into the sheets and tried to relax again. He could feel the threat of tears, which was the last thing he wanted or needed, so instead he let the choppy breaths take his energy.

“What if something happens to you?” Julian asked suddenly, obviously unable to let the topic go just yet.

Letting out a shaky breath as fear of the unknown clutched at his throat, Cameron realized he had no answer. “I don’t know,” he responded bluntly. “What if something happens to you?”

Julian blinked in surprise. “To me?” he asked.

Cameron exhaled in disbelief. “Yes, Julian. What if something happens to you ?”

“Nothing will happen to me,” Julian assured him softly, seeming to fall back into his natural confidence.

Cameron raised an eyebrow disbelievingly and looked at the scrapes on Julian’s cheek pointedly. “You asked ‘what if’ first.” He sighed heavily. “You’ll just have to protect me, won’t you?” he finally said, lifting his hand to his bare throat where the necklace usually hung.

He’d taken it off days ago when applying copious amounts of Vicks and hadn’t put it back on.

The motion drew Julian’s eyes, and he stared at the spot where the warrior’s cross should have been for a long moment of silence. Finally his lips twitched slightly. “Does that mean I have to protect your dogs as well?” he asked as he looked back up to meet Cameron’s eyes.

Biting his lip on a laugh, Cameron tried to look appropriately sober. “I don’t know. They’re awfully ferocious on their own.” He couldn’t help the heartfelt desire in his eyes from showing. He wanted to be with Julian, no matter the risk of some nebulous danger that might not ever happen. He’d found someone he wanted, and that someone wanted him in return. Cameron wouldn’t give that up without a fight.

Julian leaned forward again and ran his fingers along Cameron’s cheek. He stared for a long moment, and then he stood and bent over him to kiss his temple carefully. “I have to go,” he said regretfully.

Cameron covered Julian’s hand, and his eyes fell shut as he felt Julian’s lips. “I’ll be here.”

“Take care of yourself,” Julian whispered into his ear.

Opening his eyes just in time to see Julian pass through the door, Cameron sighed shakily. “You do the same,” he said to the empty room.

“So what have we learned from this little escapade?” Julian asked as he broke the bag inside his instant ice pack and shook it angrily.

“Down doesn’t always mean dead, sir,” Preston answered obediently.

“And if the mark is wearing body armor?” Julian asked irritably as he pressed the ice to his temple and closed his eyes.

“Always take the head shot, sir,” Preston rattled off, obviously trying to hide the fact that he was smiling as he drove.

“Of course it’s funny,” Julian snapped. “You’re not the one who got tackled by fucking Lazarus!”

“Twice, sir.”

“Twice!”

“He certainly had an impressive ability to get back up, sir,” Preston pointed out.

“You think maybe you just missed him the first two times you shot at him?” Julian asked as he pressed the ice pack harder against his head.

“I don’t miss, sir,” Preston assured him confidently as he took the turn into Blake’s driveway. “I do, however, sincerely apologize for the failure, sir,” he added with as much sincerity as Preston’s flat delivery was able to convey. “It’s my job to deal with any protection detail, and—”

“Preston?” Julian interrupted tiredly as he saw Blake standing out on the stone steps of his house, waiting for them.

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t ever apologize to me again,” Julian ordered with a small smile.

“Yes, sir. Terribly sorry, sir,” Preston responded with a straight face as he put the car in park and got out. “Won’t happen again, sir,” he called just before shutting the door.

“What have you done to yourselves this time?” Blake called from the front door of his house.

“We’re just making sure you stay in practice,” Julian claimed as he started toward Blake. He stopped as his head began to spin, and his balance faltered.

Preston was at his side in an instant, supporting him easily and helping him the short distance into the house.

“Come on then,” Blake muttered. “I’ve got the medical kit and the Valium all ready.”

“I don’t need any Valium,” Julian told him as he held the ice pack to his head.

“It’s not for you,” Blake responded with a smirk as he led them to his study, where he always stitched them up when they ran into trouble.

He walked straight to the sideboard and opened a bottle. “You’re the most god-awful patient known to man. Your doctor gets the Valium. So does the nurse. Preston?” he offered cheekily.

“Thank you, sir,” Preston responded, managing to keep a straight face as he took the glass of whiskey Blake handed him.

“I hate you both,” Julian muttered as he covered his eyes with his icepack.