14. Tristan
FOURTEEN
TRISTAN
The station house is bustling with the usual chaos. Nick and Jared are arm wrestling at the table, Haley's doing pull-ups at the gym, and Connor's snoring on the couch, probably dreaming of donuts.
"You call that muscle?" I tease Nick. "I've seen better arms on a T. rex."
"Jealous much?" Nick grunts, veins popping in his neck.
"In your dreams." I roll my eyes. "The only thing you're beating is off in the shower every night."
"Tristan!" Haley scolds, dropping from the bar. "There are limits."
The alarm blares before Nick can retort. In an instant, the playful atmosphere evaporates, replaced by the urgency of our duty. The familiar rush of adrenaline kicks in.
This is what I live for—the thrill of the unknown, never knowing what emergency awaits us on the other end of the call. Will it be a heart attack? A multi-car accident? A fire?
"Possible assault at the alley behind 5th and Elm," the dispatcher's voice crackles over the radio. "Two victims, one critical. Proceed with caution."
I rush to the ambulance, Connor taking the wheel, while Nick hops into the first responder engine accompanied by Haley and Jared. We're out the station doors in seconds, alarm still blaring.
I glance over at Connor, and his jaw is set in a grim line. We both know a call like this could go either way.
The ambulance roars off ahead of the engine, Connor leaning out the window to wave. Then we're alone, weaving through traffic on our way to whatever awaits us in that alleyway. My heart pounds as I think of the worst.
But I'm ready. I've seen it all. Whatever we find, I'll stay cool under pressure. Keep a level head. Do what needs to be done to save a life.
This is the job I was made for. And I love every second of it.
The dark alleyway comes into view, illuminated by the flashing lights of our vehicles.
Empty liquor bottles, cigarette butts, and ratty blankets litter the ground, telling a grim tale of life on the streets.
The wind pushes trash into the corners, and the distant sputter of a car engine adds to the eerie ambiance.
I jump out of the ambulance, barely waiting for it to come to a stop, and grab my trauma bag. Connor is right behind me. The acrid stench of urine and rotting trash assaults my senses, but I ignore it, scanning the scene.
As we approach, my heart sinks. Two figures lie motionless on the cold, unforgiving ground. The larger of the two, a burly man who appears to be in his late thirties, looks like he's been through hell. Bloodied and beaten, he lies motionless.
My eyes then fall on the other patient, a young man in his late teens, slim and fragile.
A handprint bruises his neck, and his pants are unzipped and unbuttoned, revealing the aftermath of a horrific struggle.
This is a grim reminder of the darkness that lurks in the shadows of our city.
A wave of disgust rises in me, but I push it away. I have a job to do.
Connor rushes to the older patient, assessing his injuries. I stay with the younger one, my heart heavy with a mix of anger and sorrow at the cruelty of the world. Kneeling over him is a young man, probably in his early twenties.
Our eyes meet. His are red-rimmed, filled with a mix of fury and fear. "Help him," he rasps, clutching the teen's limp form. "Please, help him."
"I'm Tristan and that guy over there is my partner, Connor. We’re here to help. Tell me what happened." I keep my voice calm, reassuring.
The guy, who I later learned is named Maddox, recounts his version of what happened. The older guy was assaulting his boyfriend, Ethan.
"I beat the shit out of him." He glares at the assaulter.
"Okay, Maddox, I need you to step back now, so we can help Ethan."
He hesitates, then pulls away. I turn my focus to the boy—Ethan—checking his vitals. Pulse is thready, breathing shallow. Not good.
"Ethan, can you hear me?" No response. Pupils dilated, signs of head trauma. We have to move fast.
Footsteps announce the arrival of Nick, Haley, and Jared less than five minutes after our arrival. They quickly assess the scene even as Connor and I fill them in. Nick races over to assist Connor with the assaulter while Haley and Jared stay with me.
"Maddox, does Ethan have any medical conditions we should know about?" Haley asks.
He shakes his head, eyes never leaving Ethan's face. "Nothing that I know of. Please, just help him. I can't lose him too." His voice cracks on the last word.
I straighten, meeting Maddox's gaze. "We're going to take care of him," I say firmly. "Ethan is in good hands now. Let us work.”
He nods, blinking back tears. I turn away, refocusing on Ethan, on saving his life. After all, that's what I do. It's who I am.
This young man will live to see another dawn. I'll make damn sure of it.
Connor and I secure Ethan onto the stretcher, and I turn to Maddox, offering what comfort I can.
"Can I ride with him?” Maddox asks, his voice wavering.
“Of course. Let's get him to the hospital.”
Tears well up in his red eyes as he nods, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank you."
Connor races through the streets, siren blaring. In the back, I continue working on Ethan, stabilizing his neck and his breathing, starting an IV to pump fluids and medication into his system.
Maddox sits beside Ethan, clutching his free hand. Maddox's eyes never leave his boyfriend's face. The heart monitor beeps out a staccato rhythm.
"How is he?" Maddox rasps, voice rough with fear. "Will he be okay?"
"We're doing everything we can. The doctors will take over when we arrive."
Maddox swallows hard and nods. I glance over my shoulder, meeting his gaze. "We're almost there. Just hold on."
He grips Ethan's hand tighter, leaning down to press his lips to Ethan's forehead. Eyes closed, he begins to whisper something too softly for me to hear. A prayer, perhaps. Or words of love.
Either way, he's speaking from his heart. And in this moment, that's exactly what Ethan needs.
We pull up to the emergency room entrance. A team is waiting, and they take over, whisking Ethan away on a gurney. Maddox tries to follow but a nurse stops him, explaining they need space to work on the patient.
He stands frozen, staring at the doors Ethan disappeared through. Lost. Alone. A stranger in a sea of people.
I know how he feels.
Entering my apartment, I can’t help but feel a sense of emptiness.
Silence never bothered me before, but tonight it's deafening.
For the first time in my life, I long for human companionship.
I long for a time when I could come home to a lover, a husband or wife, a kid or two or five.
I long for Myles. And Nix. Being with them has given me a taste of what a fulfilling life could be.
And I... I want it. No, I need it, dammit.
A hot shower is the first order of business, washing away the grime of the day.
But as I step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, a knock at the door catches me off guard. I quickly throw on a T-shirt and jeans before answering.
And there stands Myles, a bag of Chinese takeout in hand.
I blink in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Myles grins, his eyes warm and inviting. "I thought you could use some company. I brought dinner. Chow mein and sweet and sour chicken."
"You're too good to me."
But Myles is already stepping inside, and I follow him to the kitchen.
The last time we were both here, Myles was merely the observer as Nix and I had a whale of a time making cupcakes.
This time, Myles is busy making himself at home as he plates our dinner.
We settle at the kitchen table when he's done.
We sip on soda from the refrigerator, chatting about our respective days.
In addition to the medical emergency earlier today, we were called to the scene of a two-vehicle accident where we had to use the Jaws of Life to extract one of the drivers.
Spoiler alert: they both survived. I also had a bunch of paperwork, equipment checks, and inventory to do.
It was a fucking long day. Myles says he's still job hunting but hasn't found any positive leads yet.
HIs presence is a soothing balm, easing the tension that had built up inside me today.
As Myles and I tidy up the kitchen, a chore that feels surprisingly intimate, a sense of contentment settles over me. The clink of dishes being placed in the dishwasher echoes in the quiet of my apartment.
"Thanks for coming over," I say, trying to keep my voice casual. "I really needed this."
Myles smiles, his eyes filling with warmth. "Anytime, man." He rubs the back of his neck. "Guess I should get going."
I couldn't let him leave just yet. Plus the night was young, and the prospect of being alone again holds little appeal.
"Wait," I blurt out, my heart racing. "Nix is with his grandparents tonight, right?"
A deep V forms between Myles's eyebrows. He looks decidedly perplexed. "Yeah. He's spending the night with them, and his granddad will take him to school in the morning."
"Would you... would you mind staying a little longer?" I ask, my voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
Myles hesitates for a moment before a slow smile creeps across his beautiful face. "I'd love to."
Relief washes over me. I couldn't help but smile back, grateful for his presence. "Great, it's settled then."
As we stroll into the living room, the familiar glow of the television screen casts a soft light across the room. I fumble for the remote, contemplating our viewing options. "Netflix?" I suggest.
Myles nods, gifting me with a warm smile. "Sounds perfect. What were you thinking of watching?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I was thinking of re-watching the 'Arrow' series."
Myles's response was a simple, “That’s fine. Cara and I had actually started watching some of the DC series on Netflix, but we never got around to watching Arrow before …”
She died.
Another thing she didn't get to finish.
I silently vow that to make sure that, over time, Myles watches every DC series on Netflix, even if I have to drag him by the hem of his shirt, kicking and screaming.
I sink down beside him on the sofa, close enough that our thighs kiss each other.
I can feel the heat radiating off of his body, sending a warm glow down my spine.
It was a strange feeling, having someone over for a Netflix night that didn't involve the expectation of sex. But it's also a liberating one.
As the first episode of "Arrow" begins to play, I can’t shake the sense that this night is special. It’s a night where I can simply be myself, without pretense or ulterior motives. Just being here with Myles, enjoying each other's company, feels like a rare gift.
Despite the flickering images on the screen, my mind keeps wandering back to him.
I wish, perhaps selfishly, that he could be mine forever.
But I know I don't have that right. His heart still carries the weight of loss, and I can’t rush him into something he might not be ready for. And then there's Marco…
I mentally shake off the thought. I refuse to let my mind dwell on his upcoming date with the man.
The hours pass in comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional commentary on the show.
Even though Arrow has a dark, serious tone, we debate which of the two characters, Oliver or Diggle, is sexier.
I love hearing the timbre of Myles's voice as he argues, with faux heat, that Diggle is sexier.
Another spoiler alert: I think both of them are hot as fuck.
Myles says he'd most likely take Thea Queen on a date if she were at least ten years older.
I'd take Felicity Smoak on a date, hands down.
As the final credits roll on the last episode of season one, I realize this night has been the singular best night of my life. It wasn't about grand gestures or passionate encounters; it was about the simple pleasure of being with Myles.
With a gentle sigh, Myles shifts closer, his head resting against my shoulder. I yearn for more, for something deeper and more meaningful with him. Yet, I know I have to remember the assignment: helping him reenter the dating scene.
The night wears on, and eventually, fatigue creeps in.
As I look down at Myles, I observe how heavy his eyes have become, and I can tell he's on the verge of falling asleep.
I brush a strand of hair from his face, and my heart fills with a mixture of longing and tenderness; a pang of want, need, gnaws at me…
"Sleep," I whisper softly. "I'll be right here."
With those words, Myles closes his eyes, and his breathing gradually slows to the steady rhythm of slumber. I watch him for a moment, feeling a rush of affection.
As I contemplate the future, I can’t deny the strong attraction between us. I want Myles and Nix in my life, but I also know I have to respect Myles's journey and his healing process.
In the quiet of my apartment, I resolve to cherish any moment I have with him, no matter how fleeting. This night has been a taste of something beautiful, and I'm determined to savor every moment of it.
With a soft smile, I settle back on the couch, my arm wrapped protectively around Myles. A contented sigh escapes my lips as I reflect on how lucky I am to have met him. Tonight, I'll hold onto him and this feeling for as long as I can.