Page 73 of Warrior's Cross

“So did you shoot him?” Cameron asked awkwardly before running his fingers across Julian’s cheek.

“No,” Julian answered grudgingly. “He was just doing his job,” he sighed, as if that was the only thing he could say to console himself for not killing the animal that mauled him. “Preston fired into the air, and it scared him. The dog, not Preston. And then he ran off to go find Blake and left me there. Bleeding. Preston did. Not the dog,” he told Cameron very seriously. “And then Blake laughed at me.”

Cameron covered his mouth, shaking with silent laughter.

“I think they set me up,” Julian said suddenly. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. “There was nothing there but a dog.”

Cameron frowned, his laughter dying. “Julian?” His lover didn’t talk about his work except in the vaguest of terms with him. He didn’t want Julian to be angry later because he’d allowed him to ramble like this.

“Hmm?” Julian responded dazedly.

“Do you know what you’re talking about?” Cameron asked tentatively.

“Usually,” Julian answered in an innocent voice.

Cameron snorted. “What about now?”

“I’m pretty sure. There was nothing but a dog,” Julian answered in the same tone.

“Right.” Cameron shook his head. Cameron knew Julian wouldn’t want him to hear him like this. “All right. Time to sleep, lover,” he murmured.

Julian’s eyes closed obediently, and his fingers tightened against the fabric of Cameron’s jeans. “It’s changing, Cameron,” he murmured. “They’re starting to eat their own.”

Cameron really hoped Julian wasn’t talking about dogs. “Just be careful,” he whispered, starting to pet Julian’s hair again. It sounded like Julian was being threatened, and that hit Cameron in the gut.

Julian was silent, his breathing even and steady for several minutes. He opened his eyes again slowly. “Would you everleave Chicago?” he asked softly. His words were still slow, but he was obviously putting more effort into making sense.

“Never really thought about it,” Cameron admitted as he peered down at Julian. He’d thought the other man had finally fallen asleep. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve had no reason to leave. Why?”

Julian stared off into the distance for a long, silent moment before closing his eyes again. “My arm hurts,” he finally murmured in place of an answer.

Confused, Cameron let it go, instead shushing him gently again.

“Go to sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

“No, it won’t,” Julian practically whined. “They hurt for fucking days.”

Cameron sighed. “I guess you’ve had a tetanus shot before, huh? Are you sure I can’t get you anything to help?”

“They gave me painkillers,” Julian answered slowly, as if measuring his words now to keep from slurring. He’d apparently forgotten he’d already told Cameron that. “Preston left an hour ago to get me ice,” he added. “Ice!” he suddenly shouted accusingly at the closed double doors, and then he buried his face against Cameron’s thigh and groaned miserably.

“Were you this cranky when you really got shot?” Cameron asked, amusement tinting his voice.

“I really got shot this time,” Julian insisted, his voice muffled.

“I mean shot-shot. With the gun,” Cameron corrected patiently.

“Getting shot with a gun is easier,” Julian claimed.

“Easier?” Cameron exclaimed in disbelief.

“People don’t laugh at you when you get shot-shot,” Julian spat as he raised his head.

“Julian,” Cameron said quietly. “I don’t want you hurt at all. I don’t care if it’s a gunshot wound or a paper cut.”

“Paper cuts hurt too,” Julian pointed out as his eyes closed once more.

“Yeah, I know,” Cameron murmured, resigning himself to holding Julian for however long it took for him to get to sleep. “You going to rest or should I get Preston to bring you some ice?”

---