Bright lights, loud noises, a rattling bed.

Blinking my eyes open, I tried to fight the haze surrounding me. A voice begged me to calm down, but how could I be when I had no idea of where I was, or how I got here.

Confused, I felt Gabriel's grip around me as I thrashed. Panic forced my aching limbs to fight. Would this never end?

"Adam. I'm here. Calm down."

I recognized that voice.

"No." Gabriel wasn't allowed to hurt him.

"Adam, calm down. Please." Cameron clasped my hand, pulling me further into the real world. The ringing in my ears mellowed as I gazed into his eyes. Gabriel wasn't here. He was nowhere in sight.

"What..." My voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

"You're getting X-rays."

"Put him under." Another voice.

"No. No," I tried, tears of pain falling from the corners of my eyes. I wanted to be awake. Aware. The haze was lifting, and I didn't want to enter it again.

"They're just trying to help." Cameron squeezed my hand again.

"No...awake."

More conversation. I looked around me, seeing one man in a blue coat, one woman in a white coat and a shorter young woman clad in dark blue who pushed the bed forward.

The woman in white leaned over me while walking, peeking over her glasses. "Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Sunday."

"Do you remember what happened?"

I didn't want to remember but had no choice. I saw Gabriel's darkening gaze, I felt his punches and could smell the blood. Our tainted love falling to pieces all over again. How could I possibly forget?

"Yes."

"Does it hurt to talk?"

"Yes." Everything hurt, but the pain had its center in my chest, reaching out with long, aching tendrils.

She appeared satisfied with my brief answers. "He seems calm enough, give him five mills of morphine," she said, settling the argument.

Registering the word 'morphine', I almost smiled at the hope of relief and drifted into a state between awake and unconscious.

Cameron squeezed my fingers. "You'll be fine. Don't worry. They're taking care of you. I'm here." His softly spoken words seemed to cover me with a warm blanket as they merged with the effect of the drug.

I didn't know what to believe, but it didn't matter. His words were soothing nonetheless. Most of all, those words carried no blame. He could have cussed me out for leaving him behind and reaching out to Gabriel on my own. He should have.

With my remaining strength, I curled my fingers around his hand in a silent gesture of gratitude. It seemed as if he was about to say something, but the staff halted him and asked him to wait outside while they pushed me through a double door.

I didn't hear what they said, but I could see the distress in Cameron's eyes. That was enough to settle a heavy weight on my broken body—a weight brought on by self-destruction.

This pain was my doing. Cameron's pain was my responsibility. I shouldn't have gone to Gabriel alone.

* * * *

A punctured lung, broken ribs, a myriad of darkening bruises. Perhaps the list would have been longer if Cameron hadn't pulled me out of there.

I dug my fingers into the sturdy sheet beneath me. Closing my eyes, I fought the onslaught of memories. I was wrong. There was no maybe or perhaps. If Cameron hadn't been there, it would have been much worse. However, that realization wasn't enough to temper the guilt. Cameron shouldn't have been there. I shouldn't have been there. I wasn't sure I would ever forgive myself for what had happened.

Unclenching my fingers, I grabbed the book from the side table and began to leaf through the pages. Visiting hours would soon begin, and I had a feeling that Chris and Cameron were waiting for the signal to enter. A flash of guilt struck me like it had done several times since the nurse had asked about my family. My choice to keep them in the dark was probably less than healthy, but I wasn't ready to deal with them yet. I didn't have it in me to explain everything while still showing the obvious signs of abuse. It was enough that I'd talked to people from college and the police. They'd taken photos as well, something I didn't want to think about.

Five days had passed, and the doctors were finally ready to let me out of here. Every ailment that remained would sort itself out as long as I was careful. No more punches. No excessive training—as if that would happen anyway.

I ran my finger along the ruined spine of the paperback. The dog-eared book wasn't the most interesting piece of literature I'd ever come across, but perhaps that was to be expected from a novel someone had been kind enough to offer from the makeshift library at the ward. A nurse had brought it in last night, and damn it if the guy wasn't flirting.

I smiled at the worn pages. It felt nice to be seen even if I shouldn't pursue anything remotely romantic with anyone for a long time. Cameron had me trembling, but I wasn't ready for another relationship. I was too afraid, too unstable, and too guilty about what had happened. He deserved someone who knew who they were and what they wanted. Besides, he was out of bounds.

The guy in the bed next to mine shifted around, breaking what little focus I had. Giving up on the book, I put it aside.

He yawned and sat up, showing off arms littered with dark bruises. Our gazes met as he pulled the blanket around him.

"Hi," he said, then after a few seconds, "shit, what time is it?"

I thought that was a pretty weird first exchange of words between two strangers. He had some sort of an accent, though, so perhaps it was completely normal where he was from.

"Time for visitors."

The guy let out a sigh. "Like that would do me any good."

"I'm Adam."

He gave me a brief smile. "Joachim."

I tasted the unusual name on my tongue, Joah-Kim, another sign that he wasn't American. I had no idea how to continue. Was I allowed to ask him about the bruises? Did I want him to ask about mine? No, probably not.

"So, what happened to you?" he asked. Way to be blunt.

"Took a beating," I replied, hoping that would be enough of an explanation. "What about you?"

"Got bashed outside a club." He almost seemed to be laughing at our predicament, but there was definitely a sadder tone hiding beneath the deception.

"That sucks. Where are you from?"

"Sweden."

He did look a bit Scandinavian. High cheekbones, impossibly blond hair, gray-blue eyes.

"Always wanted to go there," I said.

"Don't. It's boring as hell."

I let out a soft chuckle, careful not to put too much strain on my broken ribs. "Maybe we all say that about our own country."

"Maybe." The short answer seemed to hold an entire story, but I had no intention of prying deeper. The guy had it hard enough as it was.

"You here visiting?" I asked, curious to know a little bit more about him. It was a better way to spend the time than reading page upon page of superficial paragraphs, or delve into memories I'd rather forget.

"Kind of," he replied.

"How do you visit 'kind of'?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what I thought would happen. Just wanted to get the hell away. Spent my last money on a ticket, and here I am. Probably have to run away from here to avoid the hospital bill. You don't have free health care, right?"

Frowning, I shook my head and stalled my non-existent answer by fidgeting with a tissue. He was in trouble, for sure.

All of a sudden, he let out a laugh. "You look like someone snatched the last piece of the cake."

It was an odd expression. Then again, he was from Sweden. I smiled in return, answering his plea to lighten the mood. I recognized the behavior since I'd done it too many times to count.

Before I had time to answer, the door swung open and revealed Chris and Cameron hovering outside. They seemed hesitant until they caught on to my improved mood.

Chris beamed. "Good to see you're getting better. Gotta be glad we're taking you home." He walked over and slapped my shoulder. Lucky for him, it didn't hurt. That was probably an effect of the painkillers, though.

Cameron made a more careful entry, stopping by the foot of the bed. Like always, my attention zoned in on him as if he shone like a bright beacon of light at the end of the tunnel.

"How are you doing?" he asked, concern lacing his features. The bruise around his eye was fading, but my guilt wasn't. He shouldn't have taken hits for me.

"Great." That was of course a pretty shitty lie, but they wanted me to get better, and so I would.

"You ready to go home?" Cameron smiled, but it was a strained one. He didn't believe me.

I thought about it, wondering how I would react to seeing the long corridors back at our building. We hadn't talked about Gabriel, which meant that I didn't know if he still lived one floor down from my room. The distance wasn't enough, not now when I finally told him that I never wanted to see him again.

Looking briefly at the Swedish guy, making sure he wasn't listening too hard, I decided to come clean about my fears. "Is Gabriel still there?"

Cameron shook his head. "No. It's been a few intense days, but he's charged with assault, awaiting bail. We had a few onlookers who've agreed to be witnesses, and they have your statement and the photographs of your injuries." He paused, taking hold of the metal bed frame with his long fingers. "It sounds like they have a pretty solid case against him."

I didn't know how to feel about anything. Prison seemed like such a harsh punishment. I didn't want his future completely ruined—he deserved a chance just like the rest of us. On the other hand, I was relieved to hear he wasn't around.

Chris squeezed my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Another lie. I needed time to process this, but I would rather spend that time at home than in a hospital room that reeked of sanitizer. "Just get me out of here, and I'll be fine."

Chris took a step to the side, and I caught the Swedish guy looking at us with a deep crease between his eyebrows. He caught himself and grinned when he met my gaze. I wondered what he would do, and how he was going to make it back to Sweden. If my situation was bad, his was ten times worse.

Maybe it was the hidden pain I saw behind his carefully crafted mask that made me want to help him. "Chris, do you have a pen?" I asked.

He appeared surprised. "No, but I can get one." He trudged out of the room, glancing at Joachim as if he guessed the guy was involved somehow.

Cameron stepped closer, playing with the frills on my blue blanket. Silence descended as my fingers twitched to reveal my frazzled nerves. I wanted to touch, to feel his warmth, but I wasn't allowed. It was too soon, and besides, I wasn't sure if he saw me as something more than a friend. I remembered his quiet rejection all too well.

Chris returned, effectively disrupting the awkward tension as he threw a pen in my direction. I failed to catch it and groaned as I heard it clatter across the floor.

"Remind me never to throw you something important. You suck at catching." Chris chuckled and bent down to retrieve the pen.

Grabbing a napkin to jot down my number, I felt the others' stares on me. I wondered what they were thinking. Maybe they thought I was ready to make a move on my current roommate.

Ignoring them, I gave the napkin to Joachim. "If you don't know where to go, or whatever, you can call."

His big blue-gray eyes sparkled with astonishment. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "Don't know how I can help you, but I will try."

"Thanks." I caught a hint of relief in his tone, but he hid it remarkably well, as if he didn't want the others to know.

It felt surprisingly good to help someone else, or at least to offer help. I hadn't been very good at helping myself these last few months, but perhaps this was a step forward.

Cameron seemed to assess the Swede with a strange frown on his face while Chris appeared confused more than anything else. Deciding to wait with explanations, I made an attempt to rise from the bed. Two pairs of hands rushed to help me.

"Guys, stop. I'm fine." I almost went so far as to push their hands away. Both of them listened, however, taking a step back to allow me some space.

I'm fine.

I was far from fine, but I had time to heal. Everything had happened too fast. First the trip to the Bahamas, then coming home to the disastrous meeting with Gabriel, and now five days at a hospital. I needed time to think, and I definitely needed time to process my weird attraction for Cameron.

He wrapped his arm around me, steadying me as if he knew I was failing. All I wanted was to sink into his side, letting him carry me through everything that lay ahead. But, I wasn't his burden to carry.