Chapter 19 #2
Gideon nodded and kissed his temple. “Always, kid,” he murmured. “Always.”
And even if they knew there was no “always,” they both knew that trying for always counted.
AT THE end of the weekend, when he got back to the apartment, he found Crosby waiting patiently on the steps, reading a book on his phone, an overnight bag at his feet.
Joey stared at him for a moment, and it hit him, fast, like a shuffling deck of cards going from one hand to the other, that he hadn’t spent a night alone since Gideon had gone into the hospital.
Emily had brought her kids.
Crosby and Garcia had claimed that the cat needed him to come play.
Blodgett had claimed that Clint was working late at the office.
Clint had claimed Blodgett was working a night shift at the hospital.
Pearson hadn’t made any excuses. She’d just been there with pizza.
Swan had said the new apartment was great, but it was too perfect and creeping him out.
Henderson said he’d heard there were no plants there. He’d brought a succulent that he claimed not even Joey could kill. (So far so good.)
Doba had brought a deck of cards and no excuses.
Natalia had said Emily and the kids were out of town at the in-laws and she didn’t want to drive all the way out of the city.
Night after night, unless Joey was in New Jersey, somebody had been there, and he’d been too busy holding on to his own shit to notice.
But he noticed now, and it almost undid him.
“Wow,” he said, his knees giving out so that he folded on the stairs next to Crosby. Crosby leaned into him, and Joey realized, with a sense of wonder, that this was what a brother did.
“Wow what?”
“You guys. Gideon told me my pack would take care of me. I… it just hit me. You been taking care of me. I… how could I not notice? That’s fucking bonkers.”
Crosby chuckled. “You know, when I was under cover, Garcia said you and Gid and Natalia kept trying to feed him.”
Joey grunted. “Yeah. He’s a skinny fucker. Doesn’t eat much.”
“Sayin’. Remember when the whole goddamned team put their lives on the line to rescue Toby, because he was my roommate, and he meant somethin’ to me?”
Joey nodded and relaxed even further into Crosby. His packmate. His brother.
“I remember. Gideon and his pointy brain. The rest of us just, you know. Assassinated.”
Crosby gave an evil laugh. “Yeah, that was good.”
“You practically moved into Pearson’s apartment when she broke her leg,” Joey remembered. “I…,” he sighed out. “I never had this before.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
“Thanks,” Joey said, his voice shaking. “I’ll try not to wake you up tonight.”
Crosby grunted. “Chadwick told Harding I should crawl into bed with you. Figured I’d warn you now, in case you slept with a knife under your pillow.”
Joey laughed a little. He had been. “Sound choice,” he said. “I’ll put the knife under the mattress. Harder to get to.”
“’Preciate it.”
Crosby stood and held out his hand. “Didja eat?” he asked.
“Oh my God—Gideon’s stepmom has brisket—like half a fuckin’ cow. She wrapped it all up and put it in a container and it’s in my duffel, probably leaking all over my clothes. But it’s good. We got some potatoes. Wanna gain five pounds?”
Crosby chuffed as he helped Joey up. “Who wouldn’t?”
That night Joey thought about people in his bed. He’d had plenty of sex before Gideon, but Gideon was the only person he’d ever slept with. But as Crosby snored softly on the far side of Gideon’s bed, it hit him that sleeping with somebody—only sleeping—was a sign of trust.
He trusted these people. They trusted him.
And he knew that Gideon had been right about having a pack. Having friends, brothers, sisters, family.
He knew why Gideon had wanted so badly for Joey to meet his parents. Knew why it made him so happy that Joey remembered to bring Trish flowers every weekend he came, and always knew the scores of the Knicks game so he could talk sports with Gideon’s father.
And he knew why he’d close his eyes and actually get some sleep this night, and the night after that, until he didn’t need a body in the bed next to him, and he could sleep just knowing that Gideon was out there and loved him.
He pulled out his phone and texted, In a thousand years, Gideon, you’ll never know how much you’ve given me.
I just wanted you to know that. You’re right.
We can go out the door any day and not come back.
But before I do that, I needed you to know I see you.
I can’t love anybody else like I love you.
But I can love our family like our family, and that is a big fucking gift.
There was a long pause then, and Joey started falling asleep, thinking he’d missed Gideon’s window. Suddenly his phone flashed.
I didn’t give that to you, Joey. You earned it every day. I’ll be home soon, kid. I love you.
Love you too. Night.
And then he slept like he hadn’t slept when he was a child.
“YOU UP for this?” Joey asked for the fifty-dozenth time.
“You?” Gideon asked gently.
Joey looked away. “I’m just so glad you’re home,” he said.
A month later, Gideon finally got to return to the SCTF on limited desk duty. He was still walking with a cane to help support his body, and his arm was still in a cast—it hadn’t just been broken, it had been shattered.
But his new teeth were in, and his nose had been operated on so it was a little straighter (but still crooked), and he could breathe.
To Joey he was transcendent. The sexiest college professor in the SCTF. His pointy brain practically radiated beauty.
His wicked grin was fully present as he sat down in the conference room and started assimilating the data on their newest case. Clint had handed him the tablet before they’d even gotten to the room.
“Wait,” Pearson said. “That’s it? He’s just gonna sit down and start working?”
“No,” Harding said dryly. “We’ve got confetti bombs and champagne waiting—oh, I’m sorry, I spent that budget on tactical gear.”
She blew a raspberry at him, and he smiled with all his teeth.
“You can hug him,” Joey said grandly. “He’ll hate it, but you know, it’s not for him.”
Pearson launched herself at him first, and he returned the embrace gingerly, the same with Natalia’s and Crosby’s. Garcia, Doba, and Henderson shook his hand, and Swan did one of those power handshake things.
Harding gave him a long, hard shoulder squeeze, and then he gave Joey one too.
“We’re glad you’re back, Gid,” he said softly.
“Joey, we’re glad you’re with him.” He raised his voice a little.
“You all, it has been a bear of a year. But we’ve ended up with the team of my dreams. I’m grateful for all of you.
Now come on—we’ve got people out there who need us.
Let’s go do our jobs and don’t get dead. ”
“Amen, brother,” Gideon said. “Now somebody get me coffee and come back in five minutes. I’ll have this ready to go then.”
Joey was at his side in a moment with coffee in his mug with the fox wearing full graduation regalia, and then he sat patiently, eyes closed, while Gideon’s pointy brain—and apparently fully working digits—went to work on their op for that morning.
“Whatcha thinkin’, kid?” Gideon asked as he started pulling up screens over the table.
“No place I’d rather be,” he said, and then paused. “Except fishing. Someday you and I are going to have to go fishing.”
Gideon grinned at him. “Can my dad come?”
“Yeah. We’ll even invite Harding. That guy needs to relax.”
“Hey, Clint,” Gideon called, “Joey wants us to go fishing.”
“You’re leaving me out?” Natalia said. “Thank Christ.”
“Garcia and I are going surfing in September,” Crosby told them. “In California.”
“Who says?” Pearson asked.
“We already put in for time!” Crosby protested.
“Not if we’re going to Disneyworld you’re not.”
Garcia stared at her. “That is news to me.”
And so on, the sound of their pack bubbling up around them, tighter than any family, bound by purpose, strength, trust—and blood.
And next to Joey was his mate, the strongest, smartest wolf in the pack.
And also the kindest deer.
“You up for this?” Joey asked for the fifty-dozenth time.
“You?” Gideon asked gently.
Joey looked away. “I’m just so glad you’re home,” he said.
“I’m just so glad we’re home.”