Fandom:	Houston Knights
Series:	Other Authors
Rating:	NC-17
Pairing:	Joe/Levon
Archive:	Starwinder's
Title:	Partners, Friends, and Lovers: Part 4
Author:	Katherine Lehman
E-mail	ksl2025@yahoo.com
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters that may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

Next installment of the Partners, Friends, and Lovers series. Sorry guys, no sex in this...some owies for Levon, and some angst for Joe.

Timeline: this story takes place about three weeks after part three.

Summary: Levon is attacked, and Joe learns a bit about his lover's past.

Partners, Friends, and Lovers...
Chapter 4
By Katherine Lehman

I have a lot of bad associations with hospitals. If I were honest, I'd admit that they scare the hell out of me. That's right.... I, Joseph LaFiamma, am afraid of hospitals. There, I said it. Not out loud, mind you, but at least I can be honest with myself, if no one else.

I can't remember a single good thing that ever happened to me in a hospital. My father died in one. So did my mother. My old partner, Szabo, was officially declared dead in one. I was informed that I might have a fatal, sexually transmitted disease in one. I didn't, thank God, but I sweated through several days until, they knew for sure I didn't have AIDS. I hate hospitals with a passion. To me they seem to reek of pain and fear, sorrow and desperation.

I expended my own share of fear and desperation not all that long ago. I can feel the after affect of all that adrenaline still running through my system. All I really want to do is lay down and lose myself in sleep for a long, long time. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know for sure that Levon is going to be all right. I cannot lose another partner. I simple cannot do it. Especially now. For the past few months, Levon has become so much more than just my work partner. Not for the first time, I wonder about the nature of God's sense of humor. I am terrified that he might have given me something so very precious, just so I'll know how much it hurts to lose it.

I've been pacing the waiting room for the better part of two hours while the doctor works on patching up my partner and lover. My hand keeps straying toward the pendant Levon gave me, while I worry about losing the other half of my soul. That worry keeps me moving despite my overwhelming exhaustion. I think Joanne Beaumont is ready to tie me down, but she knows better than to tell me to sit still. I'll say this for our boss; she is one smart lady. She is pushy as hell when she needs to be, but she seems to know when to back off too. It is a very rare talent.

So instead of telling me to sit, she looks at me calmly, and asks, "What happened?"

I actually have to pause and think about that. I need to organize the events in my head before I can speak. I don't stop pacing as I talk, but I do force myself to occasionally make eye contact with her. That is proving to be harder than I expected.

"We went to Chicken's for dinner. Place has kind of grown on me over the last few years." I smile at her when I say that. "And if you tell Levon I said that, I'll deny it."

Joanne smiles and assures me that she won't tell Levon. "It'll be our little secret." She waits a few more minutes before urging me to continue with the story.

"We ate dinner. Talked about our cases. Argued a little about everything like we always do."

I pause, thinking about that. I've never told another person how much Levon means to me. Well, other than Levon that is. I'm sure everyone knows that we are friends and that we make a damn good team. But since I've been exiled to Houston, he is, in many ways, my only family. We fight like cats and dogs, but that is just the way we are. People wonder what's wrong when we don't fight. Kind of the same way they wonder where one of is, if the other, is more than two steps behind. Lundy and LaFiamma. We are a team in every sense of the word. He better be okay. I am not sure I could handle anything else.

I rub a hand over my face, trying to force my thoughts back to where they belong. Better finish telling Joanne the story. "Neither of us was quite ready to call it a night, so we decided to play some pool."

The cowboy is pretty good at it. I'm no slouch at the game either. It is one of the few pastimes that we both enjoy. And I am always willing to do anything that lets me just watch him. Bending over the table accents the nice, lean curve of his beautiful ass, and has a tendency to throw off my game. Not that I really mind all that much. I've even managed to throw him off his game a time or two. It adds a dimension to the game I'd never really thought about until I started playing with him.

"We played a couple of games when Levon decided to call it a night. I wasn't ready to head for home yet. So I racked up the balls for another game." Levon and I had decided early on in our relationship not to tell anyone about us being lovers. Cops are typically very homophobic, and neither of us really wanted to deal with any more stress or hostility in the work place. So even though I was more than ready to leave when Levon did, I stayed to maintain the appearance of our normal schedules.

It hadn't been unusual for him to leave before me. Levon is more of a morning person than a night owl. There was a time when I thought that would be another reason why we wouldn't be able to work together. I have never thought much of being up at the crack of dawn, and I don't think Levon has missed a sunrise in years. After awhile though, I realized this was really a reason why we could work together. When I'm not at my best, he is. When he's winding down, I am alert and ready to cover his back. Funny, until now, I hadn't realized how much of our partnership was built on that kind of give and take.

I look over at Joanne and realize that she is still waiting for me to speak. I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts. I must be really tired if my mind keeps wondering away like this. It has never been a good sign when I can't control my thoughts. With a sigh, I continue the story.

"Couldn't have been twenty minutes later this guy comes running in. He tells Chicken to call the cops."

Joanne nods. "That would have been John Reynolds. Joe-Bill and Esteban have already taken his statement."

I shrug. "Never got his name." I take a deep breath and release it slowly. "Chicken called me over and said the guy wanted a cop. I introduced myself, and he tells me some poor bastard is getting the crap beaten out of him in the alley. I told Chicken to call for back up and headed out into the alley. I was thinking it was just a couple of drunks who just got carried away. No big deal. Right?"

I take another deep breath. "It isn't well lit in that alley, but I could see enough to make out what was going on. Three guys are beating up on another man. Two were holding his arms while the third one pummeled him. I pulled my guns and told them to freeze. I identified myself as a police officer. One of them...the guy who'd been doing the hitting....turned to face me with a gun in his hand. I told him to drop it, but the stupid prick.... He. Fires. At. Me!"

Seeing the look on Joanne's face, I realize that I must have raised my voice a bit. I can still feel the anger and surprise at being shot at when I had the man dead to rights. Now is not the time or the place to let those feelings run rampant, so I force myself to continue in a more normal tone of voice.

"He missed. I returned fire. I was aiming to disable the dumb son-of-a-bitch." I stopped pacing to stand in front of her. "Got him in the shoulder. I remember thinking, Levon would be impressed."

It's well known around the department that my partner is a damn fine marksman. He is probably one of the best on the force. He turned down a position with the SWAT team. So it takes quite a bit to impress him. Hitting my target, in limited light, while under fire, would be just the sort of thing to get Levon's attention.

"That's when I realized the guy getting the crap beat out of him is my partner." I can see my hands shaking, and I know Joanne can see it too. I ball them into fists trying to control it. I don't want to lose it in front of her. She might make me leave, and I can't do that. Not until I know if he's okay.

"The other two took off down the alley. I'd heard back up arriving, but I wasn't really focusing on any of that. I was more concerned with Levon at that point. Once they had let go of him, he.... He just sort of... slid down the wall. Jesus.... Joanne... he looked... he looked..."

Joanne stood and gently led me to a chair. "Easy, Joey. Easy. It's okay. Levon is going to be fine."

I all but collapsed in the chair. I took a shaky breath and swallowed hard. I'd already thrown up once before Joanne got here, and I really didn't want to do it again. Seeing Levon lying there in that alley... [GOD!!] It definitely ranks right up there with the worst moments of my life. I remember thinking that if they killed him, I would hunt them down and skin them alive. I can still feel the rage. That these fucking pricks would dare to hurt MY partner. Hell, he is more than my partner; he is my best friend, my lover. I wanted to make them pay for hurting him.

Joanne picked up the thread of my story, forcing me back to the here and now. "Backup arrived. Then what happened?"

"I told them to call for an ambulance... told them to cuff the perp I shot, and said the other two had taken off down the alley. I stayed with Levon. Chicken came out at some point. I don't really remember when, but he had a blanket with him. There was blood all over Levon. Most of it looked like it was coming from a cut on his arm. Chicken got a towel and gave it to me to wrap his arm. Seemed like forever before the ambulance finally arrived."

"Was Levon conscious?"

"Sort of. He was awake, but I don't think he was really there. He kept trying to move. I had to... had to hold him down." I swallowed hard remembering that I wasn't sure if holding him down would cause him more pain than letting him up. I knew he had to be hurting because he didn't fight me nearly as much as I thought he would. That scared me too.

"Right before he lost consciousness he seemed to know who I was."

Levon looked at me, really looked at me, and stopped fighting me. I knew he finally realized who I was. The relief I felt then was so powerful, that if I hadn't been sitting down I would have fallen. He reached out to grip my arm and asked me if I was okay. He looked relieved and smiled when I told him I was fine.

"When did he lose consciousness?" Joanne asks quietly, giving me time to pull myself together. I always knew she had a great touch when it came to handling witnesses. Never thought that I'd be experiencing it first hand though.

"Right before they loaded him in the ambulance." I had just about lost it when he went totally limp and closed his eyes. Some part of me firmly believed that he'd have to stay with me as long as he was looking at me. Weird. I mean, I know better, but I still had that feeling.

At that moment a doctor chose to appear. "Is there someone here for Sergeant Lundy?"

"That would be us." Joanne answered for both of us, as we stood to face him. "I am his supervisor, Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont, and this is his partner, Sergeant Joe LaFiamma."

The doctor nodded. "I'm Dr. Marsh. I was on call when Sergeant Lundy was brought in."

I want desperately to ask if Levon was all right, but I couldn't seem to get the words out. Joanne asked for me. "What can you tell us, Dr. Marsh?"

"Your officer was very lucky. His injuries could have been much worse." I want to tell him to just get on with it, but the hold Joanne had on my arm kept me silent. I didn't want to hear how lucky Levon was; I wanted to hear he was going to be okay.

"Sergeant Lundy has three broken ribs, and hairline fractures in two others. From the X-ray, it looks at though he's broken those same ribs before. Probably more than once. The cut on his left arm went to the bone, and needed thirty stitches. The cut above his right eye also required several stitches. With any luck it should heal without any scarring. He doesn't have any internal hemorrhaging, which frankly, given the severity of bruising on his chest and abdomen, I would have expected."

Dr. Marsh looked down at the chart he held in his hand. "As I said, he was very lucky. He has a concussion, but all the tests have shown no sign of brain damage. He did regain consciousness during the exam. He was coherent enough to answer questions, but he doesn't appear to remember all the details of the attack. Something that is fairly common with head injuries."

Marsh directed his next statement to Joanne. "He's going to be very stiff and sore for several days, and he will have to be assigned light duty until his ribs are fully healed."

"I expected as much." Joanne said calmly. I envied her ability to be so together, when I felt like jumping up and down.

"So... he's going to be okay? Right?" I had to be sure of what the doctor was saying. I heard the words, but it was taking awhile for the meaning to sink in.

He smiled gently. "Yes. With a little rest he should be fine."

"When can I see him?"

"I'd like to keep him here over night for observation. Once he's settled into a room you can see him. I'll send someone to come get you"

"Thank you." It came out as a whisper, but I know he heard me. He smiled again before nodding his head, and heading back down the hall.

I was feeling weak in the knees. Levon was going to be all right. Now I just had to keep it together until I could see him. I can do that. Piece of cake.

Joe-Bill and Esteban walked into the waiting room. I let Joanne fill them in, not really feeling up to it right at the moment. I sat back down in the most uncomfortable chair I've ever had the misfortune to use, and tried to relax. Why is it that hospitals routinely have the most uncomfortable furniture? Doesn't matter what hospital or where you are in the country. Chicago or Houston, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference because the chairs are all the same.

I look up when Joe-Bill sits down next to me. He looks about as uncomfortable as I feel. Safe bet I'm not the only one who hates hospitals. Truth be told, I don't know a single cop who really likes them.

Joe-Bill spoke softly. "Thought you'd want to know that we caught the other two guys. Dale Evans and Eric Burge. Seems both of them are friends of Mike Rollins. Other one... the one you shot, was Dave Rollins, Mike's brother."

"Rollins? Who's Mike Rollins?" The name isn't ringing any bells for me at all. None of our active or past cases involve any one by that name.

Joe-Bill looked confused for a minute. "Oh.... Sorry, Joe. Was before you got here. " Joe-Bill looked sheepish. "Forgot you ain't been here forever."

I took that as a compliment. For Joe-Bill to think I'd been here forever meant I'd been accepted. It meant I wasn't considered an outsider anymore. As heart warming as that thought might be, it didn't tell me anything about Mike Rollins. I made a "go on" motion with my hands, curious as to what this Rollins character had to do with my partner being attacked.

"Musta been 'bout six years ago now. Lundy was still working in Homicide then. Rollins case was an ugly one, and it got a lot of press coverage." Joe-Bill paused. He shook his head and sighed quietly.

"Julie Rollins was a girl, 'bout sixteen. She was snatched on her way home from school. Raped and murdered. Lundy caught the guy who did it. I think his name was Michalson. Shoulda been the end of it, but Mike Rollins, Julie's father, was an eye for an eye kind of man. He wanted to make sure that the bastard that who'd hurt his little girl got what was comin' to him. So he found out when Michalson was gonna be moved, and set himself up with a sniper rifle. Took out Michalson like a pro. One shot and no one saw a thing."

Joe-Bill smiled sadly. "Lundy took it kind of personal that a prisoner got killed on his watch. You know how he gets."

I nod. Oh yes, I knew how Levon could be with a case he took personally. Very driven doesn't even begin to describe it. Obsessive might be a better word. But then, I'm no better.

"So, Lundy sets out to find out who killed Michalson. Lotta people couldn't really understand that. I mean, the bastard raped and murdered a sixteen year old girl. Weren't anyone real sorry to seem him dead. But Lundy said Michalson was entitled to a trial like everyone else, and that as a murder victim, he deserved the same level of effort that we'd give any one else in trying to find his killer. So... Lundy worked the case. Saw to it that Mike Rollins was brought ta justice."

Joe-Bill sighed and looked at the floor. "You can just imagine how ugly the trial was. Anyway... long story short. A sympathetic jury sentenced Rollins to ten to fifteen. He'd be eligible for parole in another year or so, 'cept he that two weeks ago he got knifed in the prison exercise yard."

"Killed?" I ask. It was really more of a statement than a question.

"Deader than a door nail." Joe-Bill confirmed. "Dave Rollins blames Lundy for his brother bein' in jail and getting killed. So he rounded up Burge and Evans and decided it was time for a little pay back."

Joe-Bill shot me a wolfish grin that was more a bearing of teeth than anything else. "I think that Dave is gonna find that tryin' ta kill a cop don't go down well with most folks. He ain't gonna be thought of as a hero."

No one had better think of him as some damn hero. After what he did to Levon, the son-of-a-bitch is lucky I didn't kill him outright. I took a deep breath. When I thought this was just a mugging, I assumed they might be charged with assault, maybe with intent to kill. Now.... "You book them for attempted murder?"

Joe-Bill nodded. "Yep. And conspiracy. Shouldn't have much trouble makin' the case. There's plenty of evidence. In addition ta the gun Dave fired at you, we also have a knife found in the alley. Lab boys are goin' over it, but it's a safe bet that the blood on it is Lundy's, and the fingerprints belong to either Burge or Evans. Got John Reynolds statement too."

At my blank look, Joe-Bill elaborated. "The guy who wanted Chicken to call the cops." I nod. I remember Joanne mentioning his name but I just can't seem to hang on to it tonight. It isn't really a detail that seems very important right now.

Joe-Bill continued. "Reynolds picked Evans and Burge out of a line up less than twenty minutes ago. Burge has priors and he was singing like a bird about Rollins and Evans in exchange for a deal."

Before I totally lose my temper I have to ask, "What kind of deal did he get?" Joe-Bill must have heard the icy rage in my voice, because I received another one of those teeth bearing grins.

"Nuthin' too sweet, LaFiamma. Not to worry. D.A. handling the case knows Lundy."

I nodded, not entirely satisfied, but willing to let it go for now. If they had killed Levon... well, all bets would have been off then. Knowing he is going to be all right, I can afford to be generous. I'd settle for them spending the rest of their natural lives behind bars. Before I could say anything else a nurse walked in.

"Sergeant LaFiamma?" She called out, looking around the room. She pronounced my name wrong, but I ignored it and waved her over. "Dr. Marsh wanted me to let you know that Mr. Lundy is in room 324. If you are ready... I can take you up."

Before leaving, I ask Joanne to call Chicken. He would want to know that Levon was okay, and I really didn't feel up to talking to him at the moment. Maybe after I saw Levon.

The nurse led me to his room. I took a deep breath before I entered and mentally braced myself.

I walk in and stop. Levon is lying in the bed. Despite the bruises and bandages, he definitely looks better than he did the last time I saw him. He is alive, and there is no sight more beautiful to me right then. I know the doctor said he would be all right, but until I actually saw him, I couldn't shake the image of him in that alley. It was reassuring to see him whole and breathing. The whole situation had reminded me far too much of Szabo.

I somehow manage to get my legs to take me closer. I reach out to encircle his wrist with my hand, mindful of the IV. The warm feel of his skin and the beat of his pulse under my hand are somehow more comforting than the steady peeping of the heart monitor. Of it's own volition, my other hand carefully cups his face and then brushes a stray lock of blond hair from his forehead.

I watch carefully as he breaths in and lets in out in a quiet sigh. His brown eyes open slowly. I expect him to be disoriented or confused, but his eyes are clear and calm, as he looks me over from head to toe. He studies my face for a minute. I've been caught in that assessing gaze before, so I don't bother trying to hide the affects of the last few hours. Wasn't any point in doing so, because he'd see it anyway.

"You... okay?" Levon whispers. Despite whatever painkillers they might have given him, it is obvious his ribs are making it hard to talk.

"I'm fine." I keep my voice quiet. Doesn't feel right to speak at normal volume. Just another thing about hospitals that I hate; They subdue you even when you feel like shouting.

"You sure? Cause... you don't... look it." There is a ghost of a smile on Levon's face. "You... might want... to..."

"Yeah. Yeah. I know. I might want to inform my face." I finish for him. I can't help but smile. "You scared me a little there, Cowboy." I whisper.

"Sorry."

"S'okay. Not your fault. Dr. Marsh told me that you're going to be okay."

Levon nodded slightly. "Yeah. He... told me... that too. You get... 'em?"

I didn't have to ask who he meant. "Yeah. They were rounded up even before the doctor got done patching you up."

"Who?"

"Some friends of Mike Rollins, and his brother, Dave. Joe-Bill said they're being booked for attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder."

Levon just nodded, and closed his eyes. He sighed quietly before opening his eyes again, his expression a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"Whole damn... family is... too hung up... on revenge ta... see straight."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. It wasn't all that long ago I was dealing with my own anger and desire for revenge. If Levon had died, they wouldn't have had to worry about the expense of a trial. I knew better than to say that to him though. While I know he'd understand how I felt, Levon would never condone anything that didn't fit with his convictions about what was right and wrong. My partner has a lot of old fashioned ideas. And I some times think that his views are from the last century rather than this one, but it is oddly enough, one of the things I like best about him.

"When... they gonna... let me go... home?"

The question doesn't really surprise me. It would have been the first thing I'd have asked about. "Doctor said he wants to keep you here over night for observation. Probably will let you leave tomorrow if you behave yourself."

Levon smirked at the "behave yourself" and moved as if to get more comfortable. The movement halted abruptly with a wince and his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. I hadn't thought it possible for him to get any more pale, but just then he was the same color as the sheet.

"Easy, Levon." I start looking around for the call button, beginning to feel faintly panicked when I can't find it. Levon grips my arm, forcing my attention back to him.

"S'okay, Joe... just forgot how... much havin' broken... ribs hurts."

"Maybe I should go get a nurse." I don't like the idea of him being in pain.

"No." Levon took a shallow breath. "It'll... be all right... in a minute."

I watch him like a hawk until I see his color improve and his breathing is easier. I release a breath I'd forgotten I'd been holding. I'm still not entirely convinced that I shouldn't call someone. Levon isn't always the best judge of his own health. For that matter, neither am I. I don't think it's a refusal to admit to weakness, as much as it is simply a desire to hold on to the illusion that if I say I'm fine, then I am fine, no matter how bad it looks. Denial is a wonderful thing.

"You okay, now?" I want to hear him say it. Childish I suppose, but I want to hear it just the same.

"Yeah. I'm... okay." Levon shifted again and winced. "More or less."

"They give you something for the pain?"

Levon nods. "Nuff to take... the edge off. Said... they couldn't give... me anythin' stronger... cuz of... the concussion." He has to know what I thought about that because his grip on my arm tightened. "Just doin' their... job, Joe. Not their... fault I got... hit in the head... and jumped in... that alley."

No, it wasn't their fault. I felt like it was mine. I should have been there to watch his back. Realistically, I know there was no way for me to know that it was going to happen. But, I still felt guilty about the whole thing. If I had just left with him, or if we hadn't stayed to play pool all this could have been avoided.

Levon's eyes narrow as he looks at me. "Not your fault either." His tone doesn't leave any room for argument.

I make a mental note to never play poker with him. The man can read me far too easily. Not that I've ever been very secretive about my emotions. Most Italians are rather expressive when it comes to that, and I am no different.

"I should have been there." I tell him.

He frowns and looks confused. "Boy, you... were there."

"Not soon enough." I insist.

Levon carefully shrugs one shoulder. "I got hurt... ain't dead. You got there... soon enough." He grins and pats my arm. "By the way... nice shot."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah. I saw that."

I am surprised. Given how out of it he seemed in the alley, I didn't think he'd even been aware I was there, much less the shot I'd made. Let that be a lesson to me. Never underestimate my partner. You would think I'd know better than that by now. Oh well, so I'm a slow learner. I've got plenty of time to learn. Thank God.

"You want me to pick you up tomorrow when they let you out of here?" I ask even though I already know the answer.

"Yes. Hell, yes." Levon says emphatically. "An bring... the Jimmy. Don't want it... left sittin' at... Chicken's."

Chicken's isn't exactly in the best of neighborhoods, so I can readily see his point. Besides, I'd already planned to bring the Jimmy. It would be easier for him to get in and out of than my car. Sports cars are simply not designed with impaired movement in mind.

Taking a good look at him, I can see he isn't far from falling asleep. "I better get out of here and let you rest."

Levon snorts. "Rest. Riiiight. You... know that... they are gonna... wake me... every couple o' hours."

I caress his cheek gently, avoiding the bruises. "Yeah, I know. Don't sweat it. Joanne's already decided to give you a couple of days to catch up on your beauty sleep. She even gave me a couple 'cause she knew you'd need someone to look after you. I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up. Remember to behave, or they might decided to keep you longer."

A sleepy glare is the only response. His breathing slows and I watch as the residual tension in his lanky frame eases. I run my fingers through his hair, knowing it will help him relax. Funny, it is just as soothing for me to play with his hair, as it is for him to have it played with. I was still playing with it when the nurse returned, and told me visiting hours were over.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Lundy." I whisper, and ignoring the nurse, I bend down to place a quick kiss on his forehead.

I was back at the hospital first thing in the morning. I knew they wouldn't release Levon until later in the day. For some reason hospitals seem reluctant to let anyone leave before ten. I am not sure why, but my cynical side is betting it has something to do with billing you for a full day.

Coming in early turns out to be a good thing though. I manage to finish the necessary hospital forms that I couldn't even concentrate on the night before. Almost all the information is already on file. Says something about our line of work when the hospital already knows damn near everything they need just to admit you, and start working on saving your life.

I am surprised when I see my own name listed as his next of kin. Underneath mine, is Beaumont's. Almost from the day I met Levon, I've known he didn't have any immediate family near by, but seeing my own name listed still surprises me. When the hell did he do that? And for that matter, why? I would have thought he'd have written in Mother Minnie, or his father. I rethink that. No, not his father. What little I know of Levon's father, seeing his name would have been more of a surprise than seeing my own. Calling the relationship between Levon and his father estranged would have been a monumental understatement. As far as I know they only speak once a year, on Levon's birthday.

I can't help but wonder if simply putting me down on the form as next of kin is in any way legally binding. I've heard the horror stories other same sex couples have encountered with family when their lovers are incapacitated and unable to make their wishes known. It would kill me to not be able to see him. Dear God, if he were ever seriously injured.... I have to remind myself to breath when I think that someone might be able to keep me from seeing Levon.

Although, now that I think about it, it is far more likely some member of my family would try to prevent Levon from seeing me. Not that they were here in Houston, but knowing my partner, he would feel obligated to call them if I was ever seriously injured. And they would come down, overwhelm everyone, and do their best to keep anyone away who wasn't immediate family. Well, that isn't going to happen. Sometime today I promise myself, I intend to broach this subject with Levon. I will find a way to make us legal next of kin. I wouldn't want Levon kept away, anymore than I would want to be kept away.

I hand the forms back to the duty nurse with a smile. She smiles back. She is pretty and tries to flirt with me. There was a time when I would have encouraged her, even flirted back, but not anymore. Right now I just want to see Levon. I thank her for her time, and head upstairs.

Thinking he might still be sleeping, I make my way quietly into his room. The head of the bed is raised, and he is randomly using the remote to channel surf. He eyes the TV for a minute before turning it off with a resigned expression. I could have told him daytime TV sucks.

Brown eyes meet mine as soon as I step all the way into the room. "You been awake long?" I ask as I step over to the bed.

He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "Get up same time every day, Joe. " Levon sighs quietly. " 'Sides, it wasn't like they let me get much sleep anyway."

I take a good look at him and I can see he's telling the truth. He looks exhausted. Hell, I am willing to bet he didn't get any more sleep than I did. Every time I closed my eyes last night, I saw him sliding down the wall in that damn alley or passing out in my arms. I woke up almost every hour covered in sweat and shaking with fear. I found myself reaching for him, expecting to find Levon sleeping soundly on his side of the bed. Every time I encountered empty space, I was scared to death that he had actually been killed, and I had only dreamed the hospital and hearing he was going to be all right.

I can't help but give him the once over, taking in the vivid bruises on his face and bandage on his arm. I know he's going over me as well. He reaches out to caress my check. I close my eyes and lean into that touch. I don't know what it is about his touch but it never fails to soothe me. I am starting to believe there is magic in his fingers.

"You okay?" His voice is soft and full of concern.

I open my eyes, and nod. "Just couldn't sleep last night."

Levon cocks his head to one side slightly. "Why?"

I think about lying... for all of a second. "Kept seeing you in that alley."

He gives me an understanding look. One of the things I really enjoy about our partnership is that it takes so little for us to communicate. Despite our numerous disagreements, we have always understood each other.

"When are they letting you out?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Doctor is supposed ta see me in an hour. Can leave after that. You bring me any clothes?"

I grin, and hold up the bag I brought with me. The smile he gives me if full of gratitude. "Give me my jeans will you? Hate these damn hospital gowns."

I chuckle at that. "I know the feeling, Cowboy." I rummage around in the bag until I find the pair of boxers and sweat pants I brought. I hand them over to him. Seeing the look on his face, my smile widens. Levon detests wearing anything other than jeans in public. To him, sweats were not acceptable attire to be worn outside of lounging around the house.

"Figured these would be easier to get into than your jeans." I am prepared to argue the point if I have to.

Levon sighs and gives in with more grace than I expected. "You got a point."

He doesn't ask for help getting dressed, but I give it anyway. I can tell from the careful way he moves that he's still in considerable amount of pain, and very stiff and sore. He is pale, and his breathing is shallow. The slight tremors and almost, but not quite, soundless moans make me clench my jaw.

"They give you anything stronger for the pain?" I ask softly, not wanting him to know just how angry I am.

"No."

"Why not?"

Levon sighs with relief as he carefully relaxes back on the bed. He is only half dressed, but there is no point in putting on a shirt until after the doctor looks at him. I wince looking at the spectacular black and blue bruises that I can see covering his torso. Even with his ribs wrapped, there is no hiding how much damage was done. Seeing me wince, Levon looks down at himself, and shakes his head. When he looks back up his expression is rueful.

"Haven't had bruises this color in some time. Kind of impressive really."

Undeterred, I ask again. "Why haven't they given you anything?"

"They were gonna give me codeine, 'til the nurse checked my chart and noticed that I'd had bad reactions to it in the past. She had to check with the Doctor to see about something else. "

"When was this?"

"'Bout half an hour ago."

I run my fingers through my hair, and take a deep breath. I make a conscious effort to hold myself together. Seeing Levon in pain just makes it more difficult than I expected. I keep my eyes on the floor, but it doesn't work. Even without looking at his bruises, I can still see them. I can still see him in that alley, covered with blood. Three on one, and they brought a knife and a gun. God. I can't shake the thought that he could have died last night. If that guy hadn't passed the alley just then, or if Rollins has decided to just shoot him, if I'd gotten there another minute later....

"Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" His voice is a little hesitant. It isn't a tone I'm used to hearing from him. I look up, and meet his worried eyes.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I just don't like the idea of you being in pain."

He smiles slightly. "Not real crazy about it myself." He keeps looking at me, waiting for me to say more. I hate that. For some reason, I simply can't keep my mouth shut when he looks at me like that.

"Thought I'd lost you." I clench my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Unfortunately, the tremble seems to be spreading throughout my body. I can't do this now. I need to stay in control. Levon doesn't need my fears and insecurities right now. I drop my eyes back to the floor, and try to breathe normally.

"Hey. It's okay. Joe, it's okay. " Levon's voice is soft. And I realize it's the same tone he uses to calm the horses. I think I would be insulted if it wasn't for the fact that it's working as well on me as it does on them.

Levon sits up and reaches out to touch me again, and I find myself being pulled closer until my cheek rests against his. He runs his fingers through my hair, and down my back. I close my eyes and try to imprint the fact that he is alive on my senses.

"It's okay, Joe. I'm right here. It's okay. Nothin' that won't heal." He pulls my hand up and lays it against his throat. I can feel his pulse beating strongly. Hearing his voice, feeling the warmth of his skin, and the steady rhythm of his pulse, goes a long way toward dispelling my fear and calming me. I breathe in the scent of him, and let it out slowly.

After a few minutes I pull away. I am embarrassed. The man is in a hospital bed. I should be the one comforting him, not the other way around.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"For losing it like that."

"Nothin' to be sorry for." Levon takes my chin in one hand and gently forces me to look up. "I know where you're comin' from. Been there. Done that. It's okay."

I can tell he means that. I feel like some weight, I didn't realize I'd been carrying, was lifted. All I can think to say is, "Thanks."

"Any time, partner. Any time." He pats my cheek before relaxing back on the bed again.

The nurse picks that moment to enter, and I am grateful for the distraction. She offers a paper cup with three pills in it to Levon and another one full of water. Levon dumps the pills into one hand.

"What is it?" he asks her.

She tells him, but I've don't recognize the name. I can tell Levon doesn't recognize it either, but he just nods and raises the cup of water. The nurse doesn't notice that he only swallows one of the pills, but I do. I wait until she leaves before I ask.

"Why didn't you take all the pills, Levon?" He better have a damn good reason, because I am in no mood to hear some kind of macho crap. He's in pain, so he should be taking the medicine. If he can take one pill he sure as hell can take them all. His answer surprises me.

"I've had trouble with pain killers before. So I never take a full dose of anything new until I know it won't do something it shouldn't."

I consider this for minute. Up until now it had never occurred to me that he might have allergic reactions to anything. Trouble with painkillers could be anything from simply making him lightheaded to anaphylactic shock. Knowing Levon, he's probably understating the case, so I ask for more detail. "Trouble? How bad?"

"Most of the time it isn't any big deal. Just makes me sick to my stomach, or messes up my head a little. " Levon relaxed back on to the bed and sighs. "Take it from me... throwing up with busted ribs ain't much fun. And a concussion messes up your head enough as it is, so it don't take much for anythin' ta make it worse."

He reaches out, taking my hand, and letting his fingers intertwine with mine. "Only got really bad once. Broke out in hives, and I couldn't breath. Don't really ever want to do that again if I can help it."

"And you didn't think this problem with painkillers was something you should tell me?"

"Never came up before."

I sigh. That is so typical of my partner. It never came up. If he wasn't already in pain, and covered with bruises, I think I'd hit him. "Okay. So it's come up now. Anything else I should know?"

Levon shakes his head. "Not that I can think of."

"What do you normally take? I mean, there is obviously something that won't bother you, right?"

"Aspirin has never caused any problems. An' I can usually handle Tylenol, and Ibuprofen." Levon shrugs. "Almost anything that's a morphine derivative is a major no-no. Opiates are always iffy. Never sure just what will happen with them."

Okay. I file this information away. "Is this on your chart somewhere?"

"Should be. They got damn near everything else written down somewhere. "

Levon closes his eyes. He doesn't relinquish his hold on my hand. I suddenly realize he needs physical contact with me just as much as I needed to touch him. His reference to the hospital records and our linked hands reminds me of being his next of kin on the form. No time like the present.

"Levon?"

"Hmm?" He doesn't open his eyes, but he does squeeze my hand so I know he is paying attention.

"I finished filling out the forms downstairs."

"Good."

"Yeah, well. I noticed I was listed as your next of kin."

"Uh-huh. I know. I always list my partner as my next of kin."

"Why?"

Levon opens his eyes to look at me. "Because it's usually my partner who is the first one to the hospital. Makes it easier and faster if the docs need permission to do somethin'."

Trust him to be practical. "What about your family?"

Levon smiles sadly at that. "What family?"

"Mother Minnie..."

"Mother Minnie is too far away to make those immediate life and death type choices. And I don't want her to worry about me. If she's listed as next of kin, she'd be who they would call. She don't need to know about every little bruise I get. 'Sides, it ain't like she's gonna be around for forever. We both know that."

"Your father..."

"Is the last person I'd want deciding anything for me." Levon's voice is flat and hard. I recognize that tone. There will be no arguing the point, or any more discussion about it either. Fair enough. I knew that even before I asked. I guess I was just looking for some kind of confirmation.

"Is listing me as your next of kin legally binding?"

"Don't know."

Okay. Deep breathe here. "Would you like it to be?"

Levon studies me for a minute. "Wanna tell me just what it is you're thinkin', or do you want me ta guess?"

I smile tightly at that. "Well, it occurred to me this morning, while I was filling out those forms, that if you had been more seriously hurt. Well, see the thing is, I've heard the horror stories that same sex couples have with hospitals and families... and I realized that I wouldn't be able to handle it well if I couldn't see you. " I force myself to make eye contact. "It would kill me not to be with you."

Levon squeezes my hand again, his thumb lightly stroking my palm. "I know. Feel the same way."

I release a breath. Okay. We are on the same page. "So, do you know anyone who knows what we have to do to be made legal next of kin?"

Levon looks away for a minute. "Yeah, I might know someone who can draw up the papers for us." He frowns slightly.

"You okay with this?" I am suddenly afraid I might have overstepped some unseen boundary.

Brown eyes meet mine. The look is so warm that I can feel it all the way to my toes. "I am very okay with it."

"But?" I can't help asking. There is something in the way he said that. I can feel there is more.

"What about your family? You got a damn site more blood relatives than any I could ever lay claim to. You love them. They love you. We do this, and that means I'll be the one making life and death decisions for you. They might not care to have an outsider doin' stuff like that. "

My family... Italian, Catholic, and ties to the mob. They aren't likely to be all warm and friendly to my very male lover, and he's right to say that they sure as hell won't care for him being my official next of kin. My family tends toward possessive and protective of its own. Whether you want them to be or not. Still my family has been and continues to be very important to me. It's one of the reasons I haven't told them about Levon, and he knows this. At first I thought it would bother him, but he told me that he understood just how important family was to me. He didn't want me to do anything that would jeopardize my relationship with them. I know that concern is what prompted his question.

"You, Levon Lundy, are not an outsider. To me, You. Are. Family." I am as surprised by my vehement response as Levon is. "Whether the others like it or not, I want you to be the one to make those hard choices for me. I trust you with my life every day. You are my best friend. You are my partner. You are the other half of my soul. I may not ever have the courage to tell them that, but please don't ever doubt how I feel about you. "

I am surprised when Levon sits up and hugs me. Hard. I am careful not to return the hug with equal force, mindful of his ribs. He kisses my cheek softly before pulling away to place another of those warm, promise-filled, gentle kisses on my mouth.

"Never doubted how you felt. Feels good to hear you say that, just the same." He whispers. "If you're sure about this, I'll talk to a lawyer I know."

"I am sure."

The smile I get in response is like I just stepped into a ray of sunshine. God. I am getting sappy. Too little sleep. Too many emotional roller coasters in one day can't possibly be good for you.

"What time did you say the doctor would be here?" I really want to just get out of here and take him home. Get back to what passes for normal in our lives.

Levon glances at the clock. "Not too much longer."

"Good."

I pull the Jimmy smoothly into Levon's driveway, and park it. Turning it off, I glance over at my dozing lover. He fell asleep almost as soon as we left the hospital. Can't say that I blame him. I get out, carefully closing my door. I walk around to his side of the truck, open his door, and shake his shoulder gently to wake him.

"Levon... hey, Cowboy. C'mon. Lets get you into bed."

Levon opens his eyes to stare at me for a moment. I can almost see the lights coming back on. He blinks once, and then again. He nods to me, and moves to get out of the truck.

I am quick to catch his arm when he sways on his feet. "Easy, buddy. I gotcha." I know first hand how a concussion, even days later, can disrupt your sense of balance.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly Levon can recover his equilibrium. One second I am holding him up and the next he is standing on his own. He pats my hand, letting me know its okay to let go. I decide to leave it where is for the time being. Together we make our way to the house. We are almost to the door, when Levon suddenly changes direction.

"Levon? You okay?" My hold on his arm stops him from moving any further.

"Fine. Just need to stop at the barn."

"Why?"

"Gotta see ta the horses."

I can't believe I just heard that. He just got home the hospital and he wants to go play with the horses! Over my dead body! "You aren't in any shape to..."

"Ain't gonna do anything with 'em, Joe. Just gotta make sure they got feed and water." Levon makes a half-hearted attempt to shrug off my arm, but I refuse to let go. He sighs quietly and gives up trying to get me to let go.

"I usually check on 'em first thing every morning. Didn't think I'd be getting home this late in the day or I'd have called my neighbor and asked him ta look in on 'em."

Oh. Well, okay. That's different. "Okay." I give in, and move to follow him.

"You ain't got to come with me, Joe."

"No I don't have to, I want to."

He just shakes his head, and smiles.

Near the corral fence, Levon lets out a piercing whistle. A minute later Fooler and Gabriel come trotting through the far gate. Levon usually lets them out in the pasture at night. In all the time I've been coming out here, I never really noticed that he did anything with them in the morning. But then, he's usually up before me.

I walk next to Levon as he moves down the fence toward the watering trough. Both Fooler and Gabriel prance as they follow us. Levon is talking softly to the horses. Reminds me of how my cousin used to talk to his dog. Like it was another person. Knowing Levon, he probably does think of these horses as friends. And as friends, they would deserve an explanation for why he was late with their breakfast. I smile when the next thing I hear is Levon doing just that.

Levon stops by the trough and checks the water level. I notice that it's only a quarter full. Levon reaches for the lever of the nearby water pump and pulls it up. Water immediately gushes out into the trough. That done, he continues into the barn. I follow him into the tack room, and note the large plastic trash bins. Seeing my raised eyebrow, Levon grins.

"Keeps the mice out of the feed, and plastic won't rust."

He pulls the lid off one of the bins, and reaches in with his left hand to grab a large coffee can that he scoops oats into. I hear him curse softly before moving the can to his right hand. The thirty stitches he had put in the left arm must have reminded him of their presence. He sways when he straightens up, and I catch his arm, helping him regain his balance. I get another pat on the hand for my trouble.

He heads out to the stalls. I notice with some amusement that both horses are standing in the first stall. It's the one closest to the tack room. Reminds me of a couple of kids the way they are shoving against each other.

I am surprised when Levon doesn't just dump the oats for them. Instead he lays his left hand on Fooler's forehead and orders her to stand still, which she obediently does. He then moves to stand in front of Gabriel.

"Gabriel. Back."

I am surprised when the horse actually steps back. Levon continues to order him to back up until he is clear of the stall. Levon then steps to the next stall.

"Gabriel. Come to me. " Gabriel bobs his head slightly. If it were possible for a horse to look unsure, then he does. He moves to step back into the stall with Fooler.

"No. Gabriel, come to me. Here." Levon rattles the can full of oats, and Gabriel nickers once before moving to enter the empty stall.

"Good boy." Levon reaches up and scratches him behind the ears. He then dumps half the can of oats in front of Gabriel, and moves to dump the other half in front of Fooler.

"Why didn't you just feed them in the same stall? There was room."

"Can't. They are too apt to fight with each other if I do. And Fooler still has size and weight on Gabe. She'd push him out and he wouldn't get his share."

"I didn't know you could train horses to voice commands." For some reason I always assumed they would only respond to physical cues.

Levon just shrugs. "You can train damn near any animal, Joe. Just takes time and patience."

"Patience wasn't something I thought you had." I tease him lightly.

"With animals... yes. With people... no. 'Cept for you."

I raise an eyebrow at him. I've never noticed him being particularly patient with me.

Levon smiles. "For you, I plan to spend a life time. When I got thirty or forty years, I can afford to be patient. "

I am caught off guard by that simple declaration. More than caught off guard, I am stunned. How can a man who claims to not be good with words manage to say such profound things? He plans to spend a lifetime with me! I know he loves me, but hearing that he wants this to last forty years leaves me speechless. I decide that words are highly over-rated, and lean over and kiss him. A nice, deep, totally thorough kiss. The kind of kiss that always makes me feel a bit dizzy when I manage to come up for air.

I reach out pulling him into me, needing to be closer. I stop immediately when the moan I hear is more pain than passion. Damn. I forgot about his ribs. I move to pull back, but Levon won't let me. He rests his head on my shoulder, leaning most of his weight against me.

"God, I'm sorry, Cowboy. I forgot about your ribs. Sorry."

"S'okay, Joe. Sort of forgot about them myself."

I wait for him to ease away from me. He doesn't look any worse than he did when we walked in to the barn. Still, I think it's about time he laid down. "You done here?"

"Yeah. Just gotta put the can back."

"I'll do it." I take the coffee can and toss it lightly into the bin, and replace the lid.

Together we make our way back to the house, stopping only to turn off the water. I absently note that the tank is now three-quarters full.

"You want something to eat?" I ask once we're in the house.

"Want a shower. I'll eat later."

"Yes, you will. Right after you get out of the shower." He hasn't eaten since early last night, and its almost noon. No way am I letting him miss another meal. He's too damn skinny as it is.

Levon scowls at me, but he doesn't argue. He heads for the bedroom, presumably for a change of clothes, before going to the bathroom and I head for the kitchen. I think Levon must have lived on take out, delivery or eaten out damn near every meal before we got together. Even though he didn't stock much in the way of food, he does have a full compliment of utensils to cook with. That is a good thing, because I like to cook. And I would have hated having to bring stuff from my place every time I wanted to make a meal.

I decide on something light, simple and quick. Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. I would have preferred to make the soup from scratch, but canned will do in a pinch. I have everything laid out on the table by the time Levon emerges from the bathroom.

He's wearing the flannel robe that I've come to think of as mine. It looks good on him, but then it ought to, it is his. He holds up the ace bandage that they had used to wrap his ribs.

"Will you help me with this?"

"Sure."

I catch my breath when he shrugs out of the robe, leaving him wearing just a pair of boxers. God. I thought the bruises looked bad at the hospital. But then I was trying NOT to see them at the hospital. Now I have no choice but to really look at them. I can see they run from his shoulders down his abdomen, almost to his hips. There are even bruises on his biceps from where he'd been held. They are impressive shades of purple, blue and black. As I secure the bandage to help support his ribs, I notice that he's even got bruising down his back. Looks like they got in a few kidney punches, and the bastards must have slammed him into the wall several times.

"Better?" I ask once I'm finished.

"Much."

I help him put the robe back on. And gently shove him into a chair. "Eat."

"Yes, mother."

I ignore that, and sit down to eat. I watch Levon work his way through the food I'd put in front of him. He finishes the sandwich, but only eats half the soup. He's not really a picky eater per se. He just isn't a big eater. I don't think I've ever seen him eat a huge meal at one sitting. He eats lots of little meals through the day, which at the office, usually consist of caffeine and sugar. It's no wonder he's so skinny.

Levon pushes the bowl away and yawns. I find myself yawning right along with him. He raises a hand to rub at his temple and I know his head must still hurt. I pull the prescription bottle from my pocket and offer it to him. The doctor assured me before we left that it was a painkiller that Levon had used before with no nasty side affects. Recommended dosage is two, but I don't comment when Levon only takes one. Better safe than sorry.

I hand him the bottle of antibiotics that the doctor also prescribed. I make sure he takes the recommended dose. He doesn't have any problems with those, and I don't want his stitches getting infected.

"Why don't you go to bed?" I suggest when he yawns again.

"You gonna join me?"

I think he might be more comfortable sleeping alone. I am about to tell him I'll catch a nap in the guest room when he shakes his head at me. "I sleep better if you're with me."

"Okay." Like I could say no to that. Man, am I easy or what? "Why don't you go get comfortable, and I'll join you once I get stuff cleaned up here."

"Come with me now. Know yer tired. This, " Levon waves a hand over the table, "can wait. It ain't gonna go anywhere."

I know I won't win the argument, so I get up and follow him to the bedroom. Levon shrugs out of the robe and hangs in its usual spot behind the door. He sits down on the bed stiffly and lets out a tired sigh. I watch him lean back carefully and relax. Nothing like his usual graceful, easy movements.

I hesitate, still not entirely sure he wouldn't be better off alone. Levon must have seen my indecision because he smiles and pats the bed, inviting me to join him. That makes up my mind for me.

I hate sleeping in my clothes. I always have, so I strip down to my jockeys. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. No one has ever looked at me like he does. Oh, I've gotten appreciative and lusty looks more times than I can count, but his look never leaves me feeling like meat on a hook or makes me feel self-conscious. His is like a gentle caress. Never felt that with anyone else. Looking up, I can't help smiling seductively at him. I get a leer in return.

Levon yawns again and stretches as far as his abused body will allow. "Damn shame we finally get an afternoon off and we're gonna spend it in bed sleeping."

I slid in bed next to him, and place a soft kiss on his mouth. "Least we are together. Sure as hell beats the alternative."

"True enough."

I pull the comforter up to cover us both, and wait for him to shift enough to get comfortable, before settling in next to him. His ribs won't let him sleep on his side so we can't spoon together the way we normally do. When he sleeps on his back, I usually end up draped all over him like he was a human body pillow. But his bruises make me reluctant to cuddle the way I would like to. I lay on my side facing him, close enough that we can share the same pillow. I am half-afraid to touch him, but I need to be close.

His breathing evens out almost immediately. It never takes him long to fall asleep. When he's up, he's up, and when he's out, he is really out. More than once I've marveled at how he can simply close his eyes and be out like a light. He can sleep damn near anywhere, at any time. It usually takes me awhile to relax enough to sleep. Today, though, I can feel myself falling nearly as fast as Levon. I let out a contented sigh when he snuggles closer to me.

I take a deep breath, and I am rewarded with Levon's scent. I am suddenly aware that it was missing last night. As was the comfortable sound of his breathing, and the warm feel of his body lying next to mine. Evidently, Levon isn't the only one who sleeps better when we're together. I can't help but smile thinking we are security blankets for each other. It is the last thought I have for quite awhile.

I'm not entirely sure what time it is when I finally rejoin the land of the living. I open my eyes to see the sun is still shining, but at an unfamiliar angle. I'm used to seeing morning sun streaming though the windows, but never late afternoon. It's hard to gauge just what time it is by the weird shadows being cast, so I give up and glance at the alarm clock.

Hmmm... 4:30. Four hours isn't exactly a catnap, but I definitely feel better for having slept so long. I stretch a bit, knowing I had to have been sleeping heavily from my body's sluggish response, and the heavy feel of my limbs. If I was sleeping that deeply, then why the hell am I awake now? I feel like I could simply close my eyes and go back to sleep, except that I can't do that until I figure out why I woke up in the first place. With a sigh, I start trying to figure out what woke me.

I glance at Levon, and with a start realize he's the reason I woke. I had expected to find him sleeping peacefully next to me. And he is sleeping, but it is anything but peaceful. His eyes are moving rapidly under tightly closed lids, and his entire body is tense, almost rigid. His hands are clenched into fists so tight his knuckles are white. Levon isn't thrashing, but his body trembled violently from the tension. Its like he's trying desperately to hold himself still. He whimpers once, and he clenches his jaw like he's trying to keep himself from screaming. Definitely a nasty nightmare of some kind.

I cup his face with one hand, and whisper his name trying not to startle him. I don't want to shake him for fear it might do more damage. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up anyway, all that tension can't be good for his ribs. I don't know exactly how long he's been like this, but he needs to wake up now. "Levon... easy, Cowboy. It's just a dream. Come on, now. Wake up."

I run my fingers through his hair hoping that soothing gesture will work its usual magic. "Come on, Cowboy. It's just a dream. Levon... you need to wake up now. " I try to mimic the same tone he used on me earlier in the hospital. Hell, if it works for me, and it works for the horses, maybe it will work for Levon.

I am startled when his eyes suddenly open and I am staring into those familiar brown depths.

He stares at me for a moment, and I have to catch my breath at the depth of fear and uncertainty I see in his eyes.

I know it isn't me that he's seeing, and I wait for him to come back from where ever he is.

Levon blinks once, and I am suddenly breathing easier when I can tell he recognizes me. He takes a long shuddering breath and then goes limp so suddenly that for just a second I am afraid.

Levon moans softly and tries to curl up, but his ribs won't let him. Giving up, he rolls closer to me, his head resting on my shoulder. I can feel the faint tremors running through him, nowhere near as extreme as before. His breathing is still ragged, and I'm not sure, but he might be crying. I pull him to me, rocking gently, running one hand up and down his back trying to soothe him. I can hear streams of meaningless words falling from my mouth.

"Shh... it's alright. Everything is alright. I've got you now. Shh.... It's okay. It was just a dream. Shhh... it's alright. Just a dream. I'm here. You're okay."

Gradually the tremors ease, and his breathing evens out. Once he's calmed a bit, he pulls away from me. Not far, just enough so that I can see his face. No tears, but his eyes are very bright with those he refused to let fall. I can't quite read the expression on his face.

"You okay now?" I keep my voice soft still trying to figure out how to approach this.

He takes a breath, then another. For a minute I'm not sure if he heard me, or if he is just ignoring the question. Finally, he gives me an unexpectedly candid answer. "Not really, but I will be."

His voice is hoarse, not at all like his usual smooth tenor. I'm not surprised when I notice he's keeping his arm close to his side supporting his ribs. Seeing him shiver, I pull the comforter up and tuck it around his shoulder.

"Wanna tell me about it?"

"If I say no, will you drop it?"

I consider it for a minute. I know he'd like me to. Hell, he isn't the only one with dreams that make you wished you never gone to bed. But, I honestly think he needs to talk about this, and I have a gut feeling I may need to hear it. So, I give the answer he's expecting, knowing he won't like it. "No can do."

He smiles a little wanly. "Figured as much." He raises a hand and rubs it over his face. "It's a long story."

I smile softly, and use the same line he used on me just a few weeks ago, "Well, it ain't like I got to catch a train."

The smile he gives me is only half-hearted, but it is better than nothing. "Fair enough."

I watch him carefully. I can almost see the wheels turning as he tries to figure out how best to approach this. I'd give my right arm to be able to somehow make this easier, but since I don't even know what 'this' is, there really isn't much I can say. I'm not surprised when Levon opts for a delaying tactic.

"Can I have somethin' ta drink first?"

"Sure, Cowboy. You gonna be okay here by yourself for a bit?"

He nods. As I get up he grabs my hand and places a soft kiss on my palm. "Thanks." He whispers when he lets go.

I cup his face for a minute, and wait for him to raise his eyes to meet mine. "Anytime, partner. Anytime." Hell, I've had my own nightmares a time or too. No one should have to face those alone.

I head for to the bathroom, planning to just fill the glass he keeps there with water. But, I change course when I remember seeing Levon wince, the careful way he held himself, and just how tense he'd been. He needs more painkillers, so I head for the kitchen to retrieve them before heading back to the bedroom. By the time I get back, Levon has piled the pillows behind him and is relaxed against them.

He grimaces when I hand him the water. "Was hoping for something stronger than water, Joe."

"Not with the meds." I offer him the bottle and watch as he takes a full dose. He must be really hurting. In all the time I've known the man, he has never complained about being in pain. But his willingness to take the pills is a dead give away to how he feels.

Levon drinks the entire glass and places it carefully on the nightstand. He gestures toward the bed. "Sit down. You might as well be comfortable for this."

I sit down on the bed facing him, and cross my legs in what my second grade teacher called "Indian style." I place my elbows on my knees and rest my chin on one fist. I am giving him my complete and undivided attention.

He sighs quietly. When he doesn't say anything I offer softly, "Was it about last night?"

"In a way. Was an older demon, but it was definitely related." Levon shifts position slightly, and stares at his hands. "Suppose the best place to start would be the beginning." He looks up quickly and then away. "You remember me telling you my old man was a drunk?"

"Yes. I remember."

"Well, he wasn't always a drunk." Levon sighed quietly. "Takes a while to get like that... ain't the sort of thing that happens over night." He looks at me again, his expression earnest.

"My father was a good man. Had to have been or I don't think Mama would have married him. But, after Mama died, he really started drinking heavy. Mama was... well, she was everything to both me and Daddy. Daddy took her death really hard. Guess he was looking for comfort in a bottle. Looking to forget or remember, maybe. Not really sure which."

Levon's gaze shifted toward the window. "My father has a temper. Drunk or sober, didn't ever seem ta make much difference. When Mama was around, she could sort of... well, she sort of smoothed things over. Soothed the savage beast, you might say. He didn't drink much when she was alive, and when he was sober he wasn't as likely to fly off the handle."

I study Levon's face. He is wearing a completely blank expression. He could be talking about the weather for all the more emotion I hear in his voice. I can feel alarm bells going off. I don't like where this is going, but I can't stop it now that I've forced the issue.

"I was ten the first time he hit me. Weren't bad. Just a black eye and a split lip that time. But from then on it got to be a routine thing for him. Every time somethin' upset him or went wrong, he'd take it out on me. I learned to walk soft around him, but when he was drunk anything could set him off. Found out pretty quick that my gettin' hit didn't have a lot ta do with me."

Even though I was expecting something along these lines, I am still shocked by these matter-of-fact statements. God damn bastard. No one should do that to a child. Especially not their own child.

"Did you tell any one?" It takes everything I've got to force out that question and sound calm at the same time.

He smiles sadly and looks at me. "Once. Friend of Daddy's came by the house. He noticed the bruises. Asked me what happened. And I was stupid enough to tell him the truth. Told him Daddy hit me."

"And?"

Levon sighed. "My father told him I was just making up stories. Said I got into a fight at school and wasn't man enough to admit I'd lost. Said I was looking for sympathy and figured I'd get it if people thought it was my old man who'd hit me."

"And this man believed that??!!"

Levon looks at me. It's the same expression he has whenever I say something he thinks is less than intelligent. He continues in that same casual, matter-of-fact tone. "People believe what they wanna, and to some, an adult's word is worth more than that of a child. 'Sides, Daddy was his friend. Was easier to think I was lying than to think his friend was smacking around a kid."

"So what happened?"

"When he left, Daddy took off his belt. Couldn't sit down or sleep on my back for the better part of a week after that."

I can't help but shudder when I hear that. I want to track down Levon Lundy Senior and beat the shit out of him. I have to close my eyes to keep from showing the murderous rage I know has to be glowing in my eyes. I feel a gentle touch at my knee, and open my eyes.

Seeing that he has my attention, Levon says softly, "Happened a long time ago, Joe. Ain't nothin' to be done about it now."

Not trusting myself to speak at that moment, I nod. I don't agree with his assessment, but I understand. If I ever met up with his father, there will be a reckoning, but Levon needs me here and now, revenge can wait.

"Didn't anyone else ever ask? Did you ever try to tell anyone else?" I am amazed that my voice comes out sounding more or less normal.

Levon shrugged a shoulder, and shook his head. "Learned my lesson after the first time, so I kept my mouth shut. Or I told people I walked into doors, that I fell, that I was just clumsy. Already knew what would happen if I said the wrong thing." Levon shuddered once. "Didn't really want a repeat o' that. And I didn't really have to say much very often. Damn few people ever notice or asked."

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I close my eyes again, and try to control the rage, sorrow and disbelief I feel. How in the hell could someone not notice? Who in their right mind would believe that my incredibly agile and graceful partner was clumsy enough to repeatedly walk into doors? Did no one care enough about the well being of a child to notice he was hurting?

"What about Mother Minnie? Surely she would have noticed something. You said she practically raised you." I am very careful not let any note of accusation enter my voice. If he thought I was criticizing her in any way this conversation would be over.

"I made sure Mother Minnie didn't know anything about it. I know she would have believed me if I told her the truth, but I was afraid Daddy might get mad at her." Levon's expression is earnest, his brown eyes begging me to understand. "I couldn't let him hurt her too. And he would have if she had tried to interfere."

That is the only thing about this I do understand. I know Levon would walk through fire for his grandmother. I know first hand just how protective he can be of those he loves. I also now understand why he downplays every ache and pain. It's habit ingrained since he was little as a defense mechanism.

"What about going to the hospital?" I ask suddenly remembering the doctor having mentioned he'd thought Levon had broken his ribs more than once.

Levon shrugged again. "Mostly I didn't go. Usually wasn't anything more serious than bruises. Broke bones a couple of times and he had ta take me. I needed stitches once. Found out about the problem with painkillers when I was twelve. Didn't matter though because we never had the money to fill the prescriptions anyway."

I swallow hard, trying to control my reaction to that little bit of information. Not only did his father beat him, the man selfishly refused to supply him with medicine because he needed the money to feed his own addiction. I don't just want to beat the man any more; I want to kill him. Slowly. Very slowly.

Levon is looking out the window again. "Mostly I learned to avoid my father. Spent as much time as possible with Mother Minnie when I didn't have any really obvious bruises that she'd be able ta see. Or I'd go to Bobby's house. His parents never seemed to mind. I think they probably had a good idea 'bout what was going on, and they were doing their best to help anyway they could by giving me a safe place ta stay when I needed it. When I couldn't get away... well, I slept in the barn a time or two just to be sure I could stay away from him."

No wonder he was so willing to defend Bobby when he'd come to town with a mob hit man on his tail. I knew they were friends, but I never knew that Bobby's family had been a place of refuge. The history between them was deeper than I'd thought. Even though I still think Bobby was an ass, I suddenly wish I'd been nicer to the man when I'd met him. And finding out that Levon had slept in the barn just cleared up how it was that he could sleep anywhere. He'd had practice, and apparently lots of it.

"How long did this go on?"

"I was sixteen when he finally kicked me out of the house for good."

I nod. "I remember you telling me that."

"Yeah, well, there is more to it than that. That part is sort of what the dream was about."

Okay, deep breath, here. I started this; I need to let him finish it. Reaching out I take his hand, entwining his fingers with mine, offering physical support as well as emotional. "Tell me the rest?"

Levon smiles sadly at me. "Not really sure what happened. I guess I got tired of being his punching bag. Started mouthing back to him, and standing my ground. Got so I could damn near give as good as I got."

Yes! Now that is the Levon I know. He just doesn't have it in him to let anyone or anything keep him down long.

"I think what pissed him off the most was that I stood up to him. And I think it scared him a bit to realize that some day he wasn't gonna be able to just whup me like he had been. Anyway, it sort of all came to a head one day when he started yelling at a neighbor kid. Boy was about the same age I was, when the old man hit me for the first time. I decided he wasn't gonna do to this kid what he'd done to me. So, I stood up for this kid, and took on my father."

Levon's expression turned rueful as he made eye contact. "I held my own for awhile, but not long enough." He sighed quietly. "When it was all said and done he broke three ribs, gave me a concussion, fractured my right cheekbone, and dislocated my shoulder. If the kid hadn't called the cops, my old man would probably have beat me ta death."

I tighten my grip on his hand when he says that. He could have died before I even met him! It's stupid to think that. I know that could have happened any time. The man was a cop before for years, which is not exactly the safest of professions. Hell, he could have just as easily been killed in an accident, like getting hit by a bus or rolling his jeep. I guess what hit me so hard was that it wasn't an accident, it was deliberate. And it wasn't some criminal, it was his father. I wasn't expecting the emotional tidal wave that went with hearing that. It takes me a minute to get myself back under control.

"So the cops showed up?" I ask once I can get my voice to work, trying to sound natural. It is a damn site harder than I expected it would be.

"Yeah. Pulled him off me, and called the ambulance. I spent three days in the hospital."

I wince hearing that. Maybe it was even worse than Levon let on. I can't imagine Levon willingly spending three days in the hospital. Some of my disquiet must have shown on my face, because Levon is quick to assure me that he wasn't there because of anything serious. Serious, being something of a relative concept when it comes to my partner.

"Cops put my old man in a cell to dry out. As a minor, with no one at home ta look after me, they decided the best place for me to stay was at the hospital. Least until Bobby's folks spoke up and said I could stay with them."

If they had let his father rot in a cell, I would have been a happy man, but I know they didn't. Question is why?

"Why didn't he stay in jail?"

Levon smiled slightly, but without humor. "He managed to plea bargain the charge down to endangering a minor with the condition that he wasn't ta talk to me or see me. Wasn't too hard for him to agree to that. He spent nine months in jail." Levon shrugged slightly. "I figured I came out ahead. He couldn't see me anymore, or be anywhere near me, and I didn't have ta worry that he might do something to Mother Minnie. Was a win, win all the way around."

I'm not sure I agree with that. The vindictive part of me firmly believes that Levon's father got off far too easy. Still, I have to admit having him stay away from Levon was better than letting get hurt anymore. Except that, I know the man calls. First time I'd heard anything about his father was on Levon's birthday. "You told me he calls on your birthday?"

"Deal he made only lasted until I was legally an adult. Still, havin' ta talk to the man once a year ain't really a big deal. Ain't actually laid eyes on him in over a decade. Last time I saw him was when he came to my graduation from the academy."

"You haven't seen him at all since then?"

Levon shook his head no. This is a good thing. Means the man isn't likely to try and see him anytime soon. Which means I should be able to avoid committing murder for a while longer yet.

"You heard enough of this that we can move on ta other things?" Levon asks quietly. His voice has a strained quality to it, and I think he might have just reached his limit. Taking a good look at him I realize I'm not the only one who was riding an emotional rollercoaster. Definitely time for both of us to get off this ride.

"Sure, Cowboy. Anything in particular you have in mind?"

Levon leans forward to kiss me softly. He raises a hand to gently caress my cheek. He sighs deeply when he pulls away. "What I'd really like ta do is make love to you all night long." Levon winces when he leans back to rest against the pillows. "Unfortunately, I think this is a classic example of the spirit bein' willin' but the flesh just ain't up ta the job."

Levon pauses before making eye contact. I can see the hesitancy in his eyes. It's obvious that he isn't sure of how I'll react to what he has to say. I wait for him to go on, trying to let him know that whatever it is will be okay.

He takes a breath, and continues. "So if it's alright with you.... I'd just like for us ta be together. To pretend that we are a normal couple, with normal every day problems. I'd like to forget last night, my father, scaring you and being scared, the whole next of kin thing, your family... all of it. Just for a while. We can deal with everything else tomorrow or the day after. I promise. Right now though, I just want to do nothin'... or anythin' you want that don't involve any of the stuff I already mentioned." Levon amends with a slight smile.

"We can talk about nothin' more important than the weather or last week's football game or what we're havin' for dinner. Just need ta get my balance back... catch my breath, so ta speak. I think you might need that too. Okay?"

I smile. He's right. I need to center myself, and spending time with Levon has always been a great way to do that. We both need to get off this ride for a bit. We can pretend to be normal or whatever it is that usually pass for normal for us. Beaumont gave us a few days. No reason not to put them to good use.

"Okay." I agree softly. "I can do that." I move so I can sit next to him and lean back on the pillows. He shifts just enough to rest his head against my shoulder. It is nice to be able to relax next to him, to just be for a bit. I entwine our fingers together and lose myself in the rhythmic stroke of his thumb across my palm.

We sit together like that for some time, just enjoying being near each other and watching the shadows play on the wall. The expression, 'companionable silence', comes to mind and I finally understand what that means. The silence isn't broken until Levon's stomach growls half an hour later.

"So what do you want for dinner?"

"Barbeque."

Ugh. Not today. "How about Italian instead?"

"You gonna cook?"

"Naturally."

"Italian it is then. Can we have that stuff with the little noodles you made the last time?"

"You mean the angel hair pasta with clam sauce?"

I feel his head nod against my shoulder. "Yeah. That's the stuff."

"I think I can manage that."

We get dressed and head for the kitchen. Levon volunteers to take care of the lunch dishes while I make dinner. The conversation is light and stays on safe topics: weather, football, horses, finer points of Italian cooking, and other lightweight topic that typically make up small talk. I don't honestly think either of us could manage anything of more substance right at that moment. Dinner is eaten, and we watch TV for awhile before going back to bed.

This being normal stuff is kind of nice. Makes me feel like we are the same as any other couple. I honestly regret that it can't stay that way. Still an evening or a few days of 'let's pretend' is better than nothing.

Once we are back on an even keel, we can deal with the complications that make up our lives. Levon said he knew a lawyer who can handle the next of kin paper work. And his father... well, hopefully that is a demon we won't have to face again any time soon.

Lying in bed with Levon, listening to him breath, feeling his warm breath as he snuggles in next to me, I'm not really in the mood to plan a homicide, but if that son-of-a-bitch crosses my path, I'm sure I can work up the necessary rage to deal with him. And my family... well, they shouldn't be a problem since they're in Chicago and I'm in Houston. For the first time in four years, I am grateful for that. Levon's injuries should heal in a few weeks. No permanent damage. Thank you, God.

I sigh softly, letting my fingers run through Levon's hair. Mindful of his ribs, I tuck him in closer to me, and let myself relax. A good night's sleep and we can both face a new day.

The end