On Point (Out of Uniform 3)

“Maddox. Tell me,” Ben demanded. No one had given him a straight answer in days.

“Calm down before you set off your oxygen monitor again.” His father patted Ben’s good arm, his solid grip familiar and reassuring. And maddening.

“Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” Each word sounded scraped out, and Ben’s throat felt scrubbed with sand.

His dad held a plastic container with a straw out for him. “I actually do have news to report there. I laid eyeballs on the man himself a few minutes ago. They’re still saying family only, but...”

“You played the doctor card.” Ben managed a weak laugh.

“I did indeed.” His dad winked. “And he’s still fighting the infection. But he’s kept the leg. His surgical team is absolutely top-notch—I’m impressed. They’re keeping him sedated as much as possible right now, but I held his hand, told him we’re cheering him on.”

Ben’s eyes burned with slick relief. Alive. Maddox was alive. Maddox was going to make it. And make it back to the team with him. Everything had to get better from here.

“Family only?” Ben took a sip of the icy water. “Are they actually here?”

“Yeah.” His father looked away. “Couple days ago...they said he wasn’t going to make it. Parents flew down with the sister. What a difference 48 hours makes, huh?”

Ben gagged on the water, stomach revolting. Maddox had been so close to death that his narrow-minded family had actually gotten their asses on a plane. “You didn’t tell me!”

“Son, you were fighting for your own life at that point. No, we weren’t going to tell you until you were through the worst. And I’m not going to apologize for that.” His father used his stern surgeon voice, the one that had knocked Ben back into line as a tween.

But Ben wasn’t twelve anymore and, infection or no, he refused to be cowed. “I deserve to know. Don’t keep any other updates from me.”

His father huffed a reply Ben couldn’t quite make out, but had the word stubborn more than once in it.

“Hey, if they’re moving me, think I could see him?” He tried not sound too eager.

“Doubt it.” His father’s eyes were full of regret. “The family’s closing ranks hard. Camilla went to see if they needed coffee or anything and to introduce us, but they weren’t having it. Very...close-knit people.”

“Play the doctor card for me?” Ben didn’t often ask his dad for favors, but he was more than a little desperate here.

“You’re kind of hard to hide.” His dad laughed. “Doubt you’re ready for a wheelchair yet. They’ll be moving you on a stretcher. Just be patient and give it time.”

Patience was the one thing Ben didn’t have. He made a frustrated gesture and immediately regretted it, IV pinching like a mother.

“Ben?” His dad’s voice was softer than he could remember hearing it. “Are you guys...still just friends?”

Ben couldn’t keep back his sigh. “Just friends. Like always. He’s my best friend. That’s why I want to see him.”

With a lopsided grin, his father patted his arm again. “You know you don’t have to...party so hard. It’s been two years since Trey. Surely you’re running out of things to prove.”

The last thing Ben needed was his dad’s judgment about sleeping around. Ben wasn’t going to apologize for loving sex and using it as stress relief. Not to Trey, not to his dad, not even to Maddox. This was who he was, a fact made crystal clear by his actions a few days before they’d gone wheels up.

He’d been so sure that he could goad Maddox into a repeat of the threesome, end the weird tension that had surrounded them ever since that second night with Canaan. He hadn’t exactly intended to pick someone up when he’d gone out drinking, but when the opportunity presented itself...

It wasn’t until Maddox said no that Ben realized that he’d wanted the repeat more than he’d wanted to get laid, and that knowledge had knocked him sideways. He didn’t do attachment, not like that, not since Trey—he couldn’t want Maddox that much. So he hadn’t kicked the guy out and he’d proceeded to have the worst sex of his life. And for the first time, he’d felt like he was cheating, which was ludicrous. They weren’t a couple. Couldn’t be a couple.

Simple truth was that he had no idea how to be the man Maddox needed and deserved, and no amount of near-death experiences could change that.

* * *

Maddox hadn’t died, but he still felt like a burrito left in the microwave too long as Reverend Cook patted his shoulder.

“I’ll let you rest,” she said. She’d added pink streaks to her gray hair since Maddox had seen her last. “Leave you to your family.”

Oh please don’t. Maddox needed the reverend and her small talk about music he might like or gossip about Kelvin and Hector’s wedding at the church. Being in a small room with his parents for the first time in a decade was almost as unbearable as his pain, and at least he had a morphine pump for that. No such thing for awkward family interactions.