Off Base (Out of Uniform 1)

That last one burned. He’d been so busy running away from what Zack hadn’t done that he’d let fear keep him from saying the only words that really mattered. Still in a fog, he gathered up his stuff, checked his phone out of habit and almost dropped it when he saw that he had a message.

Zack.

And typical for him, the message was short and to the point. I’m coming home.

Home. Pike’s pulse found some new turbo gear and his hand shook. Maybe the universe did hand out second chances after all.

On my way, he replied, resisting the temptation to type the words that were clogging his senses. Not yet. But soon.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Zack wasn’t used to being helpless. But days on end of being in a hospital bed had left him wobbly as a toddler learning to walk. The hospital insisted on wheeling him out to the senior chief’s truck, and while he’d protested stridently, secretly he was glad to skip the long walk through the hospital. Last thing he needed was face-planting in front of everyone.

Other than his upcoming meeting with his commander, he was on medical leave for the next two weeks or so until he was cleared by the doctors to return to duty. He had appointments with physical therapy to work on getting his strength back up before he got that clearance, and he couldn’t help thinking about Apollo’s husband and everything the lieutenant had lost. Not going to happen to us. He couldn’t lose Pike.

Not going to happen. Ever.

He’d agonized over what to text Pike. He’d written and deleted two dozen texts all Sunday, finally making himself send something when the doctors finally cleared him to leave late in the day Monday.

“Cherice made soup for you,” the senior chief said as they pulled into the driveway at Pike and Zack’s place. “You’re sure about this? You’re still pretty weak. I’d be happy for you to stay with us.”

“I’m fine.” Zack sat up straighter, tried to exude more energy than he actually felt. “I’ll be back on duty in no time.”

“I’m more concerned with you landing on your ass tonight.” The senior chief’s voice was dry but not without humor as he helped Zack into the house. Fuck. His tired bones felt as if he were eighty. He pulled away from the senior chief’s steadying arm and forced himself to walk straight, unlock the door.

And head straight for the sofa. Tiny victories and all that.

“I’m going to put the soup in the fridge and bring you a big water.” The senior chief headed to the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Zack called after him.

“That guy of yours doesn’t show up or doesn’t stick around, I want you to call me.” The older man came back into the living room, frown on his face. “No way should you be alone tonight.”

“He’s on his way.” Zack’s hand tightened around his phone, as if that could make Pike appear faster. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if Pike said he was too late, if it wasn’t enough to keep him. That stupid fear had kept him from texting yesterday because the only thing worse than missing Pike would be learning he wasn’t coming back ever again.

“All right, then. Call if you need anything. And I mean anything.” The senior chief headed to the door.

“I will.” His throat tightened up. He had no clue what Thursday would bring, but the senior chief’s support made Zack’s shoulder muscles unkink a bit. He’d deal. Whatever was coming, he’d deal.

The senior chief shut the door softly behind him, and Zack leaned back against the couch, giving in to his exhaustion. Hell, just taking his shoes off and putting his legs up made him sleepy. He let himself drift off, a dreamless nap.

“Hey.” A soft touch on his shoulder roused him from the cobwebs of his mind, and he had to blink, make sure it was really Pike there kneeling next to the sofa, really his hand on Zack.

“You came home,” Zack said stupidly.

“Always.” Pike gave him a lopsided smile. “And hey, someone has to feed the demons.” He gestured at the end of the sofa, where both of the cats lay on Zack’s feet.

“Think I could still operate a can opener.” Zack stretched and gently freed his feet.

“I should have come by the hospital yesterday,” Pike said. “After your parents left, I mean. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to—”

“I wanted you to. Kept trying to think of the perfect text.”

“Oh, babe, you don’t have to be perfect for me. Never. Just say come and I’m there. But I shouldn’t have put you in the position of doubting that I’d be there.”

“You were right to walk away.” The words scraped against his throat, truth burning. He could still feel the recoil in his muscles from shoving Pike when he’d heard his parents. “I was being a coward, and I was wrong to push you away.”