Page 165 of Untouchable

Harp had endedup needing to read his credit card number over the phone and putting down a deposit that night in order to get the guy at the shop to take pictures for him, but he knew it would simplify things for Parker's insurance claim. If he decided to make one. Maybe it would be better to just take care of the charges and not have the accident impact his insurance at all...

"It's at a shop,” Harp says simply. “While they were getting the MRI done, there was someone towing it. I mean, they kept you waiting damned long enough."

Harp keeps his hand on Parker’s back, guiding him towards the door.

“Wait… you… got my car towed for me?”

“Yes,” Harp says, as if this is obvious. He pushes open the door. It’s dark already, though it’s still early, and the temperature has dropped rapidly. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

* * *

“Harp…”Parker says, stopping on the curb. The lights of the hospital parking lot have a greenish tinge, and it makes everything feel slightly unreal. Hell, this whole day has felt unreal. “That’s too much—you didn’t have to—”

"You'll have enough to deal with, with insurance and everything else. And I didn't want you going somewhere crooked," Harp says. He turns back to Parker, who’s still standing there. "Parker. What?"

Parker’s head is spinning, and not from the accident.

“You—I—you—”

He’s trying to articulate the whirl of emotions he’s feeling—surprise, at the forefront, but also discomfort—it’s too much, it’s too generous, and it’s just not the kind of thing people do. It feels too intimate, somehow. It makes him feel small, too, and powerless, like Harp didn’t trust that Parker could take care of his own problems. But none of that makes it out of his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have,” he says.

"I—it's—"

Harp opens and closes his mouth, searching for words that don’t come.

"I thought. It would help," Harp said. "You don't have to do it now. You can—I can—you can pay me back, if you... want to?"

“Well, yeah,” Parker says, bristling now. “Of course I want to—that’s like, a big deal, getting a tow truck that quickly all the way up there—you can’t—you can’t just… do shit like that.”

"I wanted to help. It really isn't a big deal," Harp says, shrugging casually.

Parker knits his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s freezing, he realizes, but now he’s also upset.

“it is a big deal,” Parker says. “All of this—calling my work, getting my car towed—like, it’s… yeah, it’s stuff that had to be done, but I could have done it. I’m not totally incompetent, you know. Hell, you’re the one always going on about how it’s so impressive that I’m self-sufficient at this age.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and the worst part is that he doesn’t really mean them. Parker feels like every kind thing Harp has ever said to him has been etched on his heart, and he returns to them day after day, tracing over them, when he needs the reminder. But he’s cold and tired and hungry and scared and stressed and hurt.

* * *

There'ssomething that crumples in Harp as he comprehends Parker's words. The feeling is identical to stepping on a cat's tail by accident, to picking up a baby and making it cry immediately.

It's the feeling of knowing he's done something wrong, hurt someone innocent, and that the offended party will never be able to understand just how much he didn't intend to.

It's no fault of Parker's that Harp had swept into his life and started making decisions the minute it was possible that he'd gotten hurt. But if someone had done that to Harp while he was busy and vulnerable, he would've felt beyond betrayed. Chafed, maybe. Resentful at best. How could Harp have been so bull-headed?

But as he looks at Parker standing on the curb, he knows somewhere in the bottom of his brain that he'll be forgiven. And for the first time since he got Parker's call hours ago, Harp realizes that Parker is going to be just fine.

Harp bum rushes him in a hug, fighting the urge to lift him off the ground, knowing Parker probably has the headache of a lifetime. He squeezes Parker and murmurs into his skin, "I'm sorry, I know I'm an asshole, I'm sorry, thank God you're okay."

* * *

“Harp, stop it,”Parker says, reeling as Harp suddenly pulls him in for a giant hug. He presses his hands against Harp’s chest to create space between them. Harp looks shocked, his eyes wide.

“Like, seriously—it’s not—” Parker snaps. “You can’t just say you’re an asshole and—I mean, for Christ’s sake, Harp, you do all this shit but I’ve still never even seen you naked—you say I’m important but there’s all this stuff you never tell me about—don’t you see how that might be a little fucking confusing?”

"I don't... mean to be confusing," Harp says, shaking his head and then massaging the bridge of his nose. "What does me naked have to do with getting your car towed without your permission?"

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