Blossomed in Love (ManXboy)

Deathly Reunions.

Damon

It feels like I just emerged from a tunnel of endless dreams, darkness, and nothingness. My whole body feels tired and heavy, foreign infact to me.

Drips poking and things attached to my body adds to the discomfort I feel and I release a painful grunt, trying my best to wiggle my fingers to alert the person holding onto my hand.

"Day? Damon? Holy Jesus I'll get the doctor or nurse." Whoever can get this things off of me would do just fine. I can't mistake my mom's voice as she releases my hand and I hear the door open.

The white room is so bright and everything seems sensitive, I feel a minor headache, my neck is so stiff and it feels like I've been laying here for years.

Recalling how I must have ended up here is not that hard, as I remember being shot by not Mr Redmond. Bleeding a lot, bouncing in and out of consciousness, and fuck, my Marco. How long has all that been?

Get this thing off me this minute.

Footsteps approach in numbers this time, and soon there's probing and readjusting.

The nurse moves the bed up slightly and shit it feels like all the blood was pooled in my head and now it's rushing to all the parts of my body. She places the water canteen at my lips and I take greedy sips to soothe down my dry throat.

My eyes focus on the other people in the room now, carefully taking in everyone. My mom has tears running down her cheeks while mama holds her, the boys have these goofy smiles on their faces. Marco's mom and Bess are whispering to each other but the most important person I want to see is not in the room.

"How long?" I ask warily, hoping it's not something like a year, Marco will kill me if I left him alone for a whole year.

"3 days today."

"Marco?"

They all share looks among themselves like I'm supposed to be privy to something but I'm not.

I narrow my eyes at Jamie since he and Marco are a tiny bit closer and he conveniently avoids my eyes. Julian mumbles something into his dom's ear and overall the whole room is tense and suddenly no one understands the English language.

"Where's my husband?" I ask stoically. No response.

"Lets talk about you Damon." Nate begins, gesturing to everyone else to give us privacy and so they all step out. "How d'you feel?"

"Lovesick." I reply seriously. He gives me an unimpressed look that says 'be fucking serious' so I readjust my attitude.

"Headache, slight dizziness, eyes are sensitive, major pains." He nods in understanding before gesturing to the nurse who goes to the drip and tweaks something, maybe more pain relieve.

My arm is wrapped in a cast, unmovable. "We removed the bullet Damon, but I won't lie to you rehabilitation is going to be a long painful journey as that thing went clean through your ligament." I thought doctors were taught how to work on their delivery.

"I want you to know," I groan lowly feeling the hazy effect of whatever the nurse did before continuing "that your delivery sucks Nate." A low chuckle rumbles from his throat.

"Goldilocks!" My best friend who is also a very special breed of a Hippopotamus bursts into the room, yelling even though his sleeping son is in his arms and could wake up. "You're awake."

A look of relief passes through his features as he plops next to me on the bed albeit gently to not jostle me nor wake Israel.

He sighs very loudly and I turn my stiff neck to glance at him, seriousness etched into his orbs he begins, "These past couple of days have not been the same without you Damon, for one my fresh cup of coffee is no longer missing in the mornings." Motherfucker. I know what the hidden message behind his words are, and so I ruffle his hair with my good hand.

"Where's he Dash?" I inquire.

His eyes meet mine softly "He blames himself Damon for everything, he thinks you do too and you won't want to see him, anymore." What? Marco will never cease to amaze me on how he can quickly place the blame on himself even when he's done absolutely nothing. "He's by the door." He points towards the closed door.

"Call his phone." I instruct my best friend. I'm not about to yell out my business for the hospital to hear, so phone it is.

Two rings is all it takes before the sweet voice responds through the phone. "Dash? Is everything okay?

"Come in stud."

"But master I...." Even through the slight haziness I'm feeling, I can still hear the sadness etched in Marco's voice. It stabs my chest like pricks to know that he has been having this internal battle since that day.

"No buts, come in beautiful." I long to see him. Just to touch him and assure him that everything is okay. The worst could have happened but it didn't and I'm still here.

A small whimper pulls my attention to the opening door. Puffy and slightly red eyes, disheveled hair, and barely noticeable tremors in his hands, my husband shuffles into the room.

"I think Israel needs a diaper change so I'll just uh go now. Be good kids." Dash says in one breath before walking briskly out of the room. The fucker wiggles his brows at me, and I'm not understanding why.

"You know, when I say you'll be the death of me I don't mean that literally right?" I ask with a small smile before realizing how much of a bad idea that was.

Oh shit.

My stud's lips start quivering as tears begin to stroll down those pretty eyes. "Too soon?" He nods gently in affirmation.

"Come here baby face." I start softly, letting my voice calm him to know that everything will be alright.

He moves quietly towards me, the nervousness seeping through with how his hand holds onto the collar wedged beautifully on his neck. My collar.

"Shh it's okay. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere okay?" I'll kill that Freddie or whatever his name is I swear. I can't even wipe my stud's tears since one is shot and the other has needles and other things poked into it.

"No no no, we fought and.... and you almost died." More tears amidst whimpers has my heart throbbing at the same time, I feel useless for not being able to pacify him. "I thought... your green eyes, smile, and everything." Shit I don't think it's the time for a hard on, but am I sporting one? Absolutely. "I'm sorry baby."

"Lay down with me babyface." The haziness begins to take over and I decide we can tackle this later. So if I have to drill it into my husband's head a million times that this is not his fault, then that will I do. When I no longer feel like I'm floating in the clouds due to the drugs in my system.

The wires make it impossible to cuddle so Marco lays in between my legs, his head rests on one of my thighs and little arms hold onto my legs tightly like a lifeline. Soft black hair splays on my leg, but I don't have it in me to appreciate the view better due to the darkness slowly taking over.

"I love you stud." I whisper into the quiet room, hoping Marco feels that no matter what happens or whatever we go through, nothing will make me love him less.

We might have to work on that because I don't get a response. Or maybe I'm too far gone into unconsciousness to hear one.