Page 29 of For the Rest of Forever

Allen finally opened his eyes, blinking at the light that seemed much too bright. He tilted his head slightly to look up at the paramedic, who still knelt next to him, on the opposite side as Greg. The man was watching him with a kind smile, and Allen nodded. “No medications, yeah.”

Greg’s thumb ran along the back of his knuckles, and Allen looked down to where their hands were clasped together on his thigh.

The paramedic cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s see if we can get you up on your feet, eh?”

It was slow. Greg lifted him from one side, and the paramedic lifted him from the other. And he tried to tuck away his embarrassment at the fact that they were actually lifting him because he was physically incapable of standing on his own. But he managed to get his feet underneath himself, and though he felt lightheaded and dizzy, his legs seemed to hold him up. Sort of. He found himself leaning heavily on Greg as Greg’s arm wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve got you. You okay, darling?”

He answered the best he could, a low mumble of something in the affirmative, though he wasn’t sure that was the most accurate response.

“Owen, get that chair for him,” the paramedic said.

“Yessir.”

“Sit here, darling. There we go. Breathe slowly. In and out. Are you okay, Allen? Is he okay? Are you sure?” Greg’s voice sounded... terrified. Without opening his eyes, Allen reached up to place his hand over Greg’s, which now sat on his shoulder.

“Yes, he just needs to take everything slowly and rest.”

The conversation continued around him for another few minutes, but he let all the words pass by, too exhausted to try to pay much attention. Eventually, Annabeth came over to check on him again, and then the paramedics left. He heard Greg’s voice a few feet away, low and whispering but firm, upset. And then Annabeth responded, her tone also sounding tense.

He blinked his eyes halfway open to see his husband looking angry, arguing in hushed tones and motioning to his left. When Allen followed the direction of Greg’s gesture, he saw Owen and Christopher standing there looking guilty as hell, both with their hands stuffed in their pockets and their shoulders hunched.

Owen glanced in his direction, and when their eyes met, Allen saw regret and some sort of apology in the boy’s expression. Allen gave him a small smile and lifted his hand slightly. “C’mere, kiddo,” Allen said, his voice still hoarse.

The conversation between Greg and Annabeth stopped, and Owen’s eyes darted to Greg for a moment. His frown tightened, but he looked back at Allen and then approached cautiously and knelt down next to the chair where Allen sat.

“Thank you for your help there,” Allen said, trying to infuse all the kindness into his voice that he possibly could. But god, he was also exhausted. He closed his eyes for a long blink and took another careful, deep breath. “How... did you know to have me raise my legs up? And about my blood pressure...” He trailed off, not quite able to finish his thought. But when he looked back at the teen, Owen’s frown had turned into a cautious grin.

“I’m part of the Health Sciences CTE program at school,” Owen started, and he bit his lip and lowered his eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll start training to become certified as an EMT when I turn seventeen next year. I learned about how to handle patients with syncope a couple weeks ago on a ride along.”

Something about that made Allen smile, and he closed his eyes again and nodded. “Well, I definitely appreciate your quick thinking there. And—and Christopher...”

“Yessir,” Christopher said from just in front of him.

“Thank you for making that 9-1-1 call. Are you okay, kiddo?”

“Me, sir?”

Allen nodded and opened his eyes to see Christopher standing awkwardly, his eyes darting over to where Allen knew Greg was standing. Allen smiled weakly and let out a long breath.

“Yes, you. Are you okay?” Allen repeated. The boy looked like he had no idea how to respond, so Allen just smiled again. “I’ll be okay. But it looks like the two of you...” A heaviness sat on his shoulders again, and Allen let his eyes close. “The two of you will need to finish... the shelf reading and then... probably help Ms. Jones set up for the chess club meeting. Follow her instructions, okay? And I’ll see both of you next weekend. You’ll be back next Saturday, right?”

Allen was sure he heard a huff of something from Greg, but when he glanced at his husband, Greg’s eyes were soft and sad.

“Yessir,” both boys said in unison.

“Good.”

“Okay, back to work now, boys?” he heard Annabeth say, and then she and the two boys moved away, probably off across the library to get back to work.

As his eyes lingered on Greg’s, there was a moment then where Allen had a flashback to a memory from so long ago. Thirty something years ago now. Thirty-three? Thirty-four? His brain didn’twant to do the math. And as cliché as it sounded, he somehow remembered the day as though it were only yesterday.

He smiled up at his husband and, with effort, lifted his hand in invitation. Greg closed the distance between them immediately, kneeling next to Allen’s chair, and Allen reached up and set his hand on Greg’s upper arm.

“Remember the very first day we met?” Allen said quietly, and he saw the second Greg’s expression changed, a flicker of love and joy interrupting the constant swarm of worry and concern.

“Of course. I’ll never forget. Seattle Public Library. January 5, 1990. I came in, fresh from hiking Wright Mountain, which was really stupid of me since the snow made it just—just ridiculously unsafe.”

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