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Dating a cop, Adam decided, was one of those things that was probably going to give him a heart attack so that he died way too young.
Kris raised an eyebrow at him before narrowing his eyes. “Stop that,” he ordered. Adam paused and looked up, meeting Kris’s gaze.
“Stop what?”
“Stop staring at what’s nothing more than a scratch and freaking out and stop trying to plot how to get me to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”
“The building you were in exploded,” Adam said, hand clenching against Kris’s thigh. He took in the soot that seemed to be all over Kris and fought the urge to run his hands over him to check for injuries again. “I doubt that you’re fine.” He paused. “Also, needing stitches means that it’s more than a scratch, just so we’re clear.”
Kris let out a breath. “I’m not going to the hospital,” he said. Before Adam could argue, he held up a hand. “I’ll let them treat me here. But I’m going home after that.”
“Kris,” Adam sighed.
“I’m not going,” he repeated firmly.
Rather than argue, Adam sighed again and nodded. Kris had admitted to having an issue about going to the hospital though he’d never said why he had those issues. He’d also flat out said that knowing he had issues did not mean he was going to the hospital if he didn’t have to.
“Fine,” he agreed. “Only if you agree to take it easy when we get there.” When Kris rolled his eyes, Adam wrapped a hand around his wrist. “It’s that or I find a way to drug you and drag you to the hospital. I’ll do it and you know it, Kris.”
Kris stared at him for a moment as if weighing his options before he nodded. “Deal.”
Compromise, Adam decided, was going to be the key to preventing that heart attack.
Adam frowned down at the sketch in front of him, erasing a line. He paused when he heard a whimper come from Kris.
Immediately, he dropped his pencil and book to the floor next to the bed before turning to Kris, touching his shoulder. “Kris,” he said, keeping his voice soft. A choked sound escaped Kris’s throat as he seemed to curl further into himself. Adam’s stomach twisted at that sound coming from Kris. “Kris, wake up.” He raised his voice slightly and shook Kris harder. Kris jerked away from the touch, groaning slightly.
“Fuck,” Adam muttered, shifting so that he could get a better grip on Kris. “Kris,” he repeated, “Kris, wake up. It’s not real. It’s not real, they’re not there.”
Kris gasped and his eyes flew open as he jerked up, wincing at the way it pulled at his stitches. Adam couldn’t bring himself to say anything about that, happy that he’d managed to bring Kris out of the dream before it could get too bad.
He kept silent, waiting to see how Kris would react. There were days where Kris wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, days when Kris would be able to right away, and days where neither seemed likely.
There was a slight tremble in Kris’s hands when he lifted them to scrub at his face before he let out an equally shaky breath. Silently, he turned and wrapped his arms around Adam, relaxing almost immediately. Adam returned the embrace, rubbing Kris’s back. He knew that Kris had nightmares about the day his parents were murdered but he also knew that there was sometimes more to the nightmares, things that Kris hadn’t told him about.
The first time that Kris had avoided the subject, Adam had immediately assumed the worst. He closed his eyes, remembering Kris’s words.
“No, Adam, don’t.” Kris shook his head. “It wasn’t that, okay? None of my foster parents ever sexually abused me.”
“Kris—“
“I promise.”
“Adam,” Kris said. He shifted, managing to look up without pulling away. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he asked softly.
Adam’s stomach clenched, both at the fact that Kris had actually asked and at the fact that he thought he even had to.
“You’re stuck with me.” Adam pressed a kiss to Kris’s forehead. He felt Kris smile against his neck and felt something in him loosen.
“Good,” Kris whispered.