Officer Down

Garth hung his heavy overcoat in the hall closet, snapping on the lights as he walked into the living room. It looked exactly as it had twelve hours ago when he had left for work this morning and that simple fact told him that Dick wasn't home quite yet. If he had been there would have been a trail of clothing and other sundries from the front door to the living room, the kitchen and likely ending in either the bedroom or the bathroom.

It was February and really cold. He hated cold. He hated it a mile or two underwater, he hated it when his feet were cold in bed; he hated it when the entire city was locked in some big freezer with no relief in sight. He turned the thermostat up a few notches; he had never really gotten used to the cold on the surface. Anything down to freezing he could at least handle, if not always happily, below that his hands hurt and he was just really uncomfortable. The temperature outside read seven degrees. He thought longingly of the island he owned in the south Pacific. It was his own paradise with palm trees, fresh water from a spring, hundreds of miles from any shipping lanes, white sand and reef protected. The Nature Conservatory was after him to donate it as a permanent wildlife refuge and protected area and one of these days he might give the thing to them. Not yet, though. He liked going there too much to give it away. He liked making love with Dick there too much to just give it away. Maybe he and Dick could talk Bruce or someone, maybe Clark, into helping them get there for a long weekend or something. That would be great, just the two of them and a deserted island. Okay, there were usually a couple of pleasure boats out in the bay, but as long as they didn't harm anything, he didn't care. He'd talk to Dick about it when he got home.

He glanced at the clock. Seven. Dick might have stopped somewhere on the way home. Sometimes he went out for a beer or something with some of the other officers and forgot to call. Going into the kitchen he checked the answering machine. They had twelve calls. Scrolling through them he heard several messages from friends that bordered on the obscene and several for himself that bordered on being so formal that he was surprised that the machine hadn't seized up. No one really knew how to talk to him since it became known that he was a prince; they would either get so self-conscious that they couldn't speak or they would try to pretend that they didn't know, or didn't care and would become so overly familiar that it became comical. He tried to ignore both extremes.

However, there was nothing from Dick.

Well, he was hungry and Dick wouldn't care if he ate without him. Getting last night's cheese casserole from the fridge, he turned on the oven and put the dish in to heat up. He'd have a shower while he waited since he'd been out of water since he got up this morning and was starting to feel it, plus it would help warm him up.

Thirty minutes later he'd showered, dressed in an old pair of Dick's sweats and a thermal top and managed to warm himself somewhat. He noticed that the apartment heat was coming up nicely and was eating his dinner while going over a briefing paper he hadn't had time to get to during the day. In a way he was enjoying the solitude. He loved Dick, by everything that was holy in this world, he loved him with all his heart, but once in a while it was nice to just be alone. He was almost never just by himself anymore and he wouldn't change that for anything, but it still felt good now and then.

He started going down that tangent as he finished his meal and cleaned up and continued as he moved to the living room and the computer station to check his e-mails.

He used to be alone all the time, especially after Tula had died. He had gotten used to it, the silences and having just his own thoughts or books for company and he hadn't minded. Not really. It was fine and he had gotten to where he expected that to last, but that had been before he had connected with Dick-his Robbie-and now they just wanted to always be together. Even if they were just reading separate books, they liked to do it on the same couch, their legs tangled in the middle or lying against one another in bed.

During the day he was surrounded, too. As an Ambassador he was always in demand, always being watched and questioned. When you added `Prince' to the equation, he felt like he never drew a free breath. He had managed to force the council back in Atlantis to accept that he flatly refused to have bodyguards in his own home after they understood who he lived with, but other than that he was always followed. After that stalking incident, the UN had insisted that his personal security be raised to where he could barely use the bathroom unattended.

So, being alone for a while was just fine.

Ninety minutes, thirty e-mails and still no Dick or word from him, Garth heard someone knocking. Looking through the peephole he saw a police officer he didn't know. He opened the door

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, sir, but are you Ambassador Garth?"

"Yes, may I help you?" The man looked really serious, sad, like he would rather be anywhere than standing in that doorway. Oh…

"I'm sorry, sir, but may I come in? I need to speak with you."

Garth knew that he'd just gone pale. He knew what the cop was here for. He just knew, he could feel it and he wordlessly stepped aside so that the man could enter the apartment. Walking into the living room he gestured to a chair. The other man sat, perching on the edge, tense, uncomfortable. Garth sat upright on the couch.

"I'm Sergeant Phil Diaz. I work with Officer Grayson. We're friends."

"Yes, he's mentioned you, and your wife." Garth spoke tonelessly, by rote. Diaz noticed that he had an unusual accent. "Is there something that you wanted to tell me?" The cop looked grateful that he seemed to know why he was there. He plunged ahead.

"He was injured this afternoon; there was a holdup at a bodega. He's been shot twice. One bullet has been removed from his thigh and that should heal without any problem, but the second bullet has pierced a lung and shattered two ribs. The doctors said that it also nicked an artery and that he lost a lot of blood. He was still in surgery when I left the hospital."

Phil hated having to make these calls, especially to a cop's family but it was better to be honest than hand the family some line that would let them down later. He'd never met this guy, but he knew that Dick lived with him and he noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring that was the match for the one Grayson had started wearing a few months ago.

He looked like he'd just been punched in the stomach. His face was as white as anyone he'd ever seen. That was when Phil noticed his eyes. They were purple. Not blue with a tint to them, actual purple, like the violet or maybe the lavender crayon in his kid's coloring set. He'd never seen eyes like that.

"Where is he?"

"They took him to Memorial, I'll drive you there, if you'd like." He nodded and stood up, shoved his feet into some shoes and was walking out the door when Phil said, "You'll need a coat, it's cold."

The guy started, stared for a second then understood what had been said. Opening a closet by the door, he grabbed the first thing he came to. It was Grayson's down ski jacket, the one with the `Kitzbuhl' lift ticket hanging from the zip pull. Hell, Phil had seen him wear that to the station a hundred times. Then he took a cel phone that was lying on the hall table and shoved it in his pocket.

They walked down the steps to the street and got into the patrol car, Garth in the passenger seat, face turned towards the window as they started the half hour drive to the hospital. The guy seemed close to shock, so Phil asked, "You and Dick been together long?" He wanted to get him talking so that he would stay with him. The last thing Dick needed would be a problem with his `friend'.

Those weird eyes turned toward him as if he was trying to understand what had been said, then, "We've known each other and have been friends since we were children, we've been together almost four years."

"Where are you an Ambassador from?"

"Atlantis."

Shit. That was an answer he didn't expect. "And you're a prince?"

"Yes."

"I never met a…"

"How badly is he hurt? Is he expected to live?" His voice was quiet, the accent musical. It seemed really wrong to have that soft, gentle voice talking about this.

"He's strong and he's young, he's got good doctors looking after him."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you know?"

Phil shook his head. "No, I don't know." The prince turned his face back to the window, his fingers twisting the ring he was wearing.

They drove in silence for another five minutes. "Were you there when he was hurt?"

"No, I arrived just afterwards. I was with him while we were waiting for the ambulance."

"Was he conscious? Was he in pain?"

"No." He saw the prince look at him, maybe to see if he was lying. He nodded, relieved.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed. After what were probably a couple of rings, he started talking. "Ann? Dick has been hurt, he's in Memorial Hospital in `Haven. Find out what you can, I'm on my way there now….I don't know…Find out who are the best doctors for his type of injury and get them there. Then call Marcus and have him meet me at the hospital…no, you stay home….No… I'll call if I need you….next, I need you to cancel my schedule for the next few days…it doesn't matter, just say that I'm dealing with a personal matter…make sure the papers don't make a connection if we can avoid it…yes, I know that, but that doesn't mean they'll make the connection….I'm fine…no, I am…please just do what I've asked and I'll let you know what's going on…yes, I will, thank you." He put the phone back in his pocket.

"Dick has you listed as his next of kin."

"I know."

"Those rings, you guys married or something?" The ambassador just looked at him without answering as if weighing the intent behind the question then looked away again. "Hey, look, I didn't mean anything by that. Grayson's a good guy, he's a good cop." He drove for another block until they had to stop for a light. "It's okay with me, I mean. If that's what works for you guys."

He was still facing the window. "It's legal where I come from, no one thinks anything of it at home. Dick wanted the rings, he likes the idea of wearing them for each other."

Another block passed in silence. Phil saw that the guy was hanging on by his fingernails. "Hey, he's gonna be okay. He's tough."

"Yes…But a lung and an artery, there would have been internal damage and bleeding and ... If he doesn't come back all the way it will kill him. He's an athlete. He has to make a full recovery or it will destroy him. He saw what happened to…" He stopped, just shaking his head. "Who else has been told?"

"I don't know. I was just sent to get you."

Had Bruce been told? Barbara was monitoring the police channels, she would have heard, she would have contacted Alfred or her father or someone. He must know by now. He should get a hold of her; ask her to get the word out. The other Titans would need to be told, and probably the JLA should be informed. Who else? There must be some others who should know. Dick had some family, some cousins and aunts and uncles and the like. He saw them occasionally but wasn't close to them. They could wait until he knew more.

He should remember to have someone go to the apartment and make sure that the UN stuff was secured if no one was there. Marcus could take care of that.

What else? There must be something else.

They pulled up to the emergency entrance and he saw a small crowd gathered there, some news cameras, a couple of vans, people just milling around.

"You might want to go in another entrance. That's the mayor here to make a statement. You know how those guys are, always showing their face when something like this happens. Fucking vultures."

"Does this mean he's dead?" If Phil had ever wondered what terror sounded like, this was it, just that simple sentence.

"Hey, no, take it easy. No. It just means the mayor has an election coming up in a few months." The car kept driving around to a side entrance, an employee entrance from the look of it. "This will be better. Come on."

Parking the car, they went through the doorway, Garth walking as quickly as he could without actually running, Phil leading the way. After navigating the twisting corridors and several staircases of the old building they were outside an operating room with a group of about ten people, mostly cops. Phil touched the arm of one of the other officers standing there. "Any word yet?"

"No, not yet. It's not good, man. They've been in there like five hours. Shit, this sucks."

Phil turned to Garth who was still standing beside him, obviously having heard the exchange. "Hey, look, that doesn't mean anything, okay? He's gonna be all right."

Garth was staring through the small window into the operating theatre. All he could see were about eight different medical people dressed in scrubs surrounding a table with an occasional glimpse of Dick's figure lying there. There were tubes and machines and bright lights focused on him. Garth wasn't about to move any more than Dick was at this point.

"Can I get you some coffee or something? Would you like to sit down?" Phil didn't think the guy had heard him.

He didn't answer or acknowledge the questions. He just stood there silently, surrounded by an almost visible wall of pain, staring through the window. No one bothered him and he didn't move except to unconsciously twist the ring on his finger.

A couple of the cops asked Phil who he was and he took them aside to answer them. They all liked Dick. Most of them had known that he lived with someone; none of them knew it was a man. They didn't much care. Dick was a good guy, a good cop. He'd put himself on the line for his partners more than once. He was okay. If he liked guys, that was his business, what the fuck. Shit, he never made a deal of it, never bothered anyone in the locker room or the showers, nothing like that. He was okay.

After about forty-five minutes two men arrived who walked directly over to where Dick's companion or partner or whatever he called himself was still standing by that little window, like he was glued to the spot. They started speaking quietly in a foreign language no one could understand, but the Ambassador was apparently giving the others some kind of orders and they were listening pretty closely. He was talking to them without even looking at them, without taking his eyes away from that little window. He sure as Hell seemed like he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. One of the men bowed before he left to do something. Bowing. That was something you didn't see in `Haven everyday.

More people started arriving. A thin balding man with an English accent showed up who also went straight to Dick's `friend'. They seemed to know each other and the older man was trying to give some comfort. The guy Phil had said was a prince actually seemed to listen to what this one was saying, he was responding and nodding as they spoke. The old guy stepped over to one of the cops and asked, in his clipped accent, if there might be a place, perhaps an office or empty room where they could wait in privacy?

After one of the prince guy's underlings spoke to the head of emergency surgery, they were given over to one of the grief counselor's who was hovering around, he offered them the Hospital Administrator's private office. Evidently, this guy rated some really special treatment.

When the mayor heard who was waiting for the injured cop, he tried to have his picture taken with his arm around the ambassador's shoulders, but his assistants said that was out of the question. Just before they tried to herd him away from the operating room to wait in the private room, though, the prince walked away from his small group and stood before Phil. His voice was so soft that it you had to really listen to catch what he said. "I wanted to thank you for your help tonight, Sergeant Diaz. I-appreciate that this wasn't easy for you, and I am grateful to you. I'm sure that Dick will be, also."

Phil just nodded. This young guy seemed like he was an okay guy, just like Grayson was. "He's going to be all right." They shook hands and Phil noticed that the prince's skin was cold as ice. He was probably still in some kind of light shock. Well, there were enough flunkies around him, they'd watch out for him.

"Your Highness? My Lord? They have a room that you can wait in, if you'll come with me, please."

"No. I wish to remain here." He spoke without turning to look at the man who was speaking to him, his attention still focused on Phil who was just watching this little drama being acted out in front of him.

Another one of his assistants took a stab at it. "Your Excellency, please. They expect to be finished in a few minutes and the head surgeon wishes to speak with you when he comes out."

"He can speak to me here."

"Sir…"

"Leave me." The tone of voice was final, expecting to be obeyed. Nodding, bowing, the two men retreated several feet. The prince nodded briefly to Phil, turned and took up his place by the window again, watching the end of the surgery. His face was an impassive mask, his hand fingering the ring nonstop. Fifteen minutes crawled by before the door opened and a surgeon walked out. She was obviously exhausted, wearing bloody scrubs, and rubbing the small of her back with both hands.

"I'm Doctor Stephanie Weidmann, are you the next of kin?"

"Yes." He seemed to be holding his breath.

"First of all, he's alive."

The prince impatiently wiped his hand across his eyes at this news and breathed in a shuttering breath. The old English man put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He was spared a glance before full attention was given back to the doctor.

"He came through the surgery and they'll be wheeling him to recovery in a couple of minutes. The ribs look like they will knit just fine, he was lucky with them. I removed the bone fragments and they should be almost as good as new. There was a lot of internal bleeding, but we've managed to repair the artery and have replaced most of the blood. The real problem is that there is major damage to his right lung. When the bullet shattered those two ribs, the fragments were driven through the soft tissue and that compounded the extensive damage done by the bullet itself. I don't know if you were aware that it was an exploding bullet? No? Well, if it had completely exploded we wouldn't be discussing his recovery. I'd guess that when it hit his ribs, some parts of the thing were ruined."

Looking through the window again, Garth could see that Dick was being wheeled through a door on the other side of the operating theatre.

"But he's going to live?"

"I don't want to give you any false ideas that he'll be dancing anytime soon. The damage is extensive and we don't know yet just how far he'll be able to come back. Beyond that, there could still be complications. We'll be keeping a close eye on him, he'll be up in ICU for a while, but baring any major problems, he'll live, yes."

"Will he recover?"

She paused a moment, seeing the look on his face then spoke gently. "We'll just have to wait and see. It might be all the way, or it might not. It's just too soon to know yet." She was trying to be kind, he could see that.

The prince's resolve was starting to crack now, exhaustion and strain taking their toll. He was fighting tears, standing with his eyes closed trying to center himself. The doctor saw this and, though exhausted herself, spoke to him. "I want you to go home. I'm going to give you something so that you can sleep and I don't want to see you here before noon tomorrow. Understand?"

A man approached. "Your Highness, we'll get you home. If you'd prefer, we'll arrange a room in a hotel nearby, but you need to rest."

His eyes opened. "Doctor, forgive me. I'm all right. I want to stay here. Please. You don't understand how it is with us. If he wakes up he'll be frightened if I'm not there. I have to stay here. I can sleep in a chair or something, but I can't leave him here alone-please."

The counselor approached the surgeon and murmured something to her that the others didn't quite catch. Looking slightly startled, she looked at Garth with renewed interest and said, "I'll arrange for a cot to be brought to his room after he's moved to ICU and if you want to sit with him in recovery, one of the aides will take you there. You must understand that he'll be asleep at least until morning and probably longer. He's not to be disturbed in any way. The young officer was badly hurt. Is that clear?"

He nodded, gratefully. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Doctor." He turned to go with the aide then stepped back. "He told you who I am, didn't he? That's the only reason you agreed."

"Whoever you are and wherever you're from, I can see that your concern is for that young man and that you two are important to one another. Sometimes that can make the difference." Nodding, he went with the aide.

He sat in a chair by the side of the bed. Dick was asleep, unconscious, connected by tubes and wires to machines that kept track of everything except if he would wake up. Garth would occasionally take his hand and rub it. Sometimes he would smooth the already smooth covers or watch a nurse change a bag of some liquid for one of the IV's. He even took a few minutes to go to the doctor's lounge to shower, needing the moisture. The things he didn't do were either to eat or sleep, because he couldn't.

Marcus stayed, out in the hall. He would come in now and then to see if anything was needed. The cops came and went. They had families to get home to, shifts to work. They cared and he knew it, but they had things to do.

He refused to meet with the mayor, so the man left.

About five in the morning they moved Dick from recovery to ICU. The promised cot was there and Garth pulled it close to the hospital bed, finally stretching out on it, turned on his side to face Dick, to keep him in sight.

Alfred also stayed at the hospital, but finally, restless, insisted on going over to their apartment to clean and gather fresh clothing and toiletries and saying "Now, Master Garth, you know very well that you need clean clothing and that a man in your position must be conscious of the impression you make. I really must insist." Garth let him go, knowing that he was coping as he needed to.

After he left the room, Garth started thinking about all the different names he went by on a given day, all the different things people called him, at least to his face. Your Highness, Your Excellency, Sir, My Lord, Mister Ambassador, Garth, Master Garth, Your Honor.

He had so many names, he answered to them all and none of them really mattered to him except when murmured by Dick.

Dawn was breaking, the sky outside the window starting to lighten when he heard a foot scrape on the floor. Bruce was standing at the foot of the bed. He was dressed for the office in a Saville Row suit probably costing more than most people paid for a car. Garth sat up on the edge of the cot, his feet on the floor.

"How is he?"

"I don't know. Alive. He's still asleep."

"I'm flying in the top specialists in the field, they should be here in a couple of hours." Of course. Garth just nodded.

Bruce moved around the bed to stand up by the pillow, looking down at the still face, listening to the beeps and clicks and rasps of the machines. His hand came up and pushed the lock of hair from the pale forehead and lingered for a moment. Speaking to himself more than to Garth he whispered, "He'll be all right."

Embarrassed, he looked a challenge at Garth, who said nothing for a space of seconds then said, in his quiet voice. "He knows that you love him. He always has known, just as he knows that you can't tell him yourself."

Bruce regarded him for a moment, inhaled sharply, then turned and left. He had accepted their relationship because he had no choice, but while he had no problem with the homosexual aspect, nothing would ever make Bruce like anyone associated with Arthur. It was a simple fact they all lived with and usually ignored. Garth was used to it.

An hour later a medical tech came in, checking the readings on the various machines. He didn't say anything until he looked over at Garth lying on the cot, watching him.

"They told me that you're some kind of a prince, that right?"

"Yes."

"So, what are you doing here?"

"Even princes have friends."

"Yeah? How did a prince ever become friends with a cop? He your body guard or something?"

That made Garth almost smile. "Sometimes. We've been friends since we were kids. In a way we grew up together."

"What are you prince of? Anyplace real or one of those places that kicked their guys out?"

"A real place." He sat up, stretching his back.

"You mean, like England or something?"

"Atlantis."

That made him look up. "No shit?"

Garth's smile almost became visible. "None."

"So, you gonna be a king some day?"

"Maybe." He actually already was, though he'd refused the throne.

"So, am I supposed to bow and call you `Your Highness' and all that shit?"

"Not unless you want to."

"Yeah, okay, I don't. So what am I supposed to call you, then?" He started checking and changing the IV bags.

"My name is Garth. You could call me that."

"I can call a prince by his name?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Yeah, so if you're like a prince, how come you're wearing sweats and need a shave?"

"Well, these are more comfortable than the formal robes."

"You got a crown?"

"We don't generally wear crowns where I come from, but yes, I have one when I need it." The tech seemed to digest this for a minute

"Yeah, that would make sense, I mean, it would like fall off if you were swimming. So, you can breathe water?"

"Well, I breathe oxygen that's in the water, just like you breathe oxygen that's in the air."

"Pretty fuckin cool. Wait till I tell the wife I met a real live Goddamned prince from underwater." The tech took another look at him, "Hey, Garth, he's doin' okay. Don't worry about him none" and continued on his rounds.

A few minutes after that one of the nurses came in, asking if he would like something to eat, maybe some coffee or something. No wonder people could never rest in hospitals. Not wanting to impose on her, he thanked her, declined and walked out to the solarium at the end of the hall. Marcus and Ann were both there along with a few of the others. They were all working on the endless paperwork that was the bane of their lives or working the phones. They stood as he approached.

"Any news, sir?"

"Not really, he hasn't woken yet but he's alive. Might you find me something to eat? Anything, it doesn't matter." Marcus nodded and went off.

Ann spoke up. "Sir, that English gentleman brought some food for you from your apartment, some salad, I think. He put it in the nurse's refrigerator down the hall and he brought you some fresh clothing to change into. It's right here."

"Thank you, Ann." He stretched his back, hearing a couple of cracks as he moved. "I thought I told you to stay home." It was said kindly. She shrugged.

"I can work here as well as at the office. I have my laptop and phone."

"…Ann, haven't we already cost you a fiancé because of the hours you put in? I'll manage fine."

"No, Your Highness, you won't. Or if you do, you'll do much better with us to help you. None of us are leaving, so deal with it."

He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Remind me to give you a raise."

"Yes, sir, I'll make a note of it." She hugged his waist with her free hand. "There are a lot of messages for you. Would you like to see some or wait?"

"I'll wait unless they're really urgent. I'm going to get changed and then go back to ICU." She just nodded. She would field his calls as long as needed.

Needing to rehydrate after the entire night spent waiting in the dry rooms, he went back down to the doctor's lounge that had been made available to him. It was while he was standing in the shower, alone, the spray hitting his face and body, that his reservoir of reserve and strength started to crack. The lack of sleep and food, the strain and the worry combined and, leaning against the tiled walled for support, he began to quietly sob.

They were saying that Robbie was doing well, that he was young and strong, but what if he died? What if infection set in? What if his heart gave out? What if he recovered only to be an invalid like Barbara was?

What if he died?

He began picturing, imagining in detail, attending Rob's funeral. He could see the flowers, hear the music, see the mourners and the press and all that went along with it. He could picture the coffin and himself sitting in a pew. He could imagine going up to the casket and brushing the lock of hair away from the closed eyes for the last time.

Shoving the heel of his hand into his mouth so that no one would hear, he stood like that, nightmare thoughts running through his mind, for fifteen minutes until he knew he had to get back. He'd been away almost half an hour, anything could have happened. Rushing, he dressed and returned to Dick's room, a picture of composure and concern when he walked back in to find Doctor Weidmann checking on her patient. She nodded to him as he entered.

"He's doing fine, his vitals are strong and he seems to be starting to wake up. Why don't you stay here and talk to him? That will make it easier for him"

Garth was by the side of the bed, looking down, seeing the beginnings of some eye movement and hearing some slight sounds that might have been moans. A plastic tube was taped in place in Dick's mouth, his teeth unconsciously biting down on it.

"Is he in pain?"

"He's being given medication but there will be some discomfort. Talk to him." She was ready to go. "I'll be back in a little while. He's doing fine, really he is. Oh, and you might want to take that ring off of his finger. I hate to say this, but they can be stolen around here." She left.

Garth took his hand gently, careful not to disturb any of the tubes or cause him too much movement that might pull at his injuries.

"Robbie? Can you hear me? You're supposed to be waking up about now." He began rubbing the lax hand he was holding. "Come on, Rob, it's time to wake up." There was some slight movement, the fingers twitched slightly. "I know that it hurts, but you need to wake up now. Come on, Rob. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Barbara was maneuvering her chair into position next to the high bed. Her eyes were red from recent crying. Even though both she and Dick had known almost from the beginning that he was bi, they had been lovers off and on since he was about fifteen. After he had become seriously involved with Garth their relationship had changed to almost that of brother and sister, but they were still about as emotionally close as it was possible for two people to be. She looked a question at him.

"He's trying to wake up."

"I've spoken with his doctors, they say that he's responding well, so far. They've also told me that you've barely left his side. You need rest, sweetie."

"Barbara, please, talk about this later." He then got a washcloth from the bathroom, wetted it with a pitcher of drinking water and started to wipe the pale face and stroke up and down the arms.

"Everyone knows. I put the word out. If you need anything at all, we're here. You know that."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving Dick's face. "I know." He turned to her, "Thank you. Bruce was here a while ago. And Alfred has been here."

"Your secretary told me that you're getting calls from everyone from the mayor to the Secretary General of the UN to the other ambassadors. The media is camped out front because he's a hero cop now, shot in the line of duty."

"I know."

She sat silently for a moment before he spoke again, quietly as always. "I lost Tula, I can't lose him, too. I couldn't bear it."

"The doctor told me he's going to pull through."

"They don't know. And even if he lives, if he doesn't recover, he'll…"

"Be an invalid?" She spoke sharply, more so than he would have expected from her.

"Barbara, you know that I didn't mean that."

"The Hell you didn't. You meant that if he doesn't recover 100% that he won't be able to cope with not being able to do everything he could a couple of days ago. Well, fuck you."

Surprised at the vehemence of her sudden attack, he glared at her. She ignored him. "You've both been making a big show and dance about how much you love each other, you wear those rings, you live together and God knows you're always pawing one another, but what the Hell do you think you know about him that means he couldn't cope? Who the fuck died and appointed you God, your Goddamned Highness?"

"That's enough." His eyes had darkened to violet, she was going too far and he was getting angry.

"No, it isn't. You think you love him? You think he can't handle it? You're the one who can't handle it. Poor you, abandoned at birth, abused and all that melodrama. Well you landed on your feet. You landed on a damned throne with everyone kissing your ass, and not just Dick. You did just fine and you think that he couldn't do as well as you did? He survived his parent's murders and then he survived Bruce. Suck on that for a while." She wheeled her chair around in an abrupt movement and was gone before he opened his mouth.

That wasn't what he meant, Damnit.

If Dick couldn't do what he had, he'd be devastated. He was a world-class athlete; it was a big part of who he was. She knew that.

Damnit. He didn't have time for this-if she was having a tantrum, she could damn well do it on her own right now because he had more important things to deal with.

He felt a slight squeeze on his hand as Dick's eyelids fluttered open. His eyes rolled a bit and it was obvious that he wasn't focusing. Garth leaned closer to him and spoke softly. "Rob. Rob try to wake up. I know that it hurts, but I'm here. I'm not leaving. You're going to be all right."

The blue eyes rolled a bit more until they stopped roughly on Garth's face. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. "Would you like some water?" It was a guess, but Dick's lips were parched. Getting a washcloth, he wetted it and allowed the water to fall, drop by drop into his mouth and across his lips. After several minutes of this he tried to speak again. The unused vocal cords, strained by tubes were only able to manage a croak.

"Why-arguing?" He meant Garth and Barbara a few minutes ago.

"It was nothing, Barbara was upset, but she's fine. She was a little worried about you, but you're going to be all right."

Dick seemed to be trying to focus on what was being said to him, but with the amount of painkillers in him, it wasn't easy.

"I'm-hurt?"

"You were shot, but you're going to be all right. Your lung was hurt, that's why it hurts to breathe. It will get better, though."

Dick was looking at him as he said this.

"You look-like Hell."

"Well, you've had better days, too, you know." Garth pressed the call button for the nurse. This was ICU; she was there in seconds.

"Yes?"

"He's awake."

"Excellent, I'll call Doctor Weidmann. Oh, and Your Highness? One of your staff wanted to speak with you." She checked the machines again before leaving.

Garth nodded absentmindedly. "Thank you." He continued to hold Dick's hand while he spoke softly, reassuringly. "Everyone has been here, Barbara, Bruce, all the cops from your station and the ones who couldn't stop by have all called. Even the Mayor was here."

"He's-jackass."

"Well. Yes he is, but he's still going to give you a medal for bravery when you're feeling a little better."

"UN?"

"I told them that I needed a couple of days and some of my staff are just down the hall. The hospital has been helpful in letting us still get some work done. Everything is fine."

"Well, Mr. Grayson, I understand that you've decided to rejoin us after all." The doctor had returned, bedside manner and banter in place. "You're a tough young man, you know. And so is your friend here. He's kept the entire diplomatic corps at bay so he could keep an eye on you." She was checking his vitals and the readouts on the various machines as she was talking. "The entire nursing staff is in a flutter, you know. It's not everyday we get an actual prince hanging around and borrowing our facilities." She was looking at the chart. "I think some of the ladies have set their caps for him." She wrote some orders on the forms. "And I wouldn't be surprised if you found yourself with some offers yourself when you're up to wining and dining."

She turned serious. "Now you're going to recover. You've had a close call, but you're making progress and you should be fine, it may just take a little while. I know that you're in some discomfort now and that's normal after surgery, it's to be expected, so don't worry about that." She smiled down at him. "You take as much time as you like and you sleep when you get tired. That's going to help as much as anything will." She was ready to go. "Your Highness, I'd like a word, please."

"Of course." Then to Dick, "I'll be right back." He followed the doctor to the hallway.

"You have to understand that although he's awake and that's a good sign, he has quite a long road ahead of him. This won't happen quickly."

"Yes, I realize that. In fact I wanted to speak with you when you had some time."

"Yes? I've a few minutes now, if you'd like."

He nodded. "Our doctors, the physicians from my country have tremendous expertise in dealing with respiratory problems and recovery. I have no wish to overstep or impose, but might I suggest that I bring one or two of them here to offer opinions on how his recovery might be handled? I believe that, with all respect, our medicine is beyond that of the surface in this area."

She considered for a brief moment. "Yes, I thought that there might be an offer like that from you or some of your people. I'd be interested in learning from them, and I'm sure that my colleagues would be, also." She paused for a second while she chose her words "You know, if you'll forgive my saying so, your country is still unknown to most of us-but seeing you here these last couple of days, well-if there are more at home like you and your staff, I'm impressed."

He smiled to himself, he was used to the well meaning patronizing attitude and had a stock answer. "We're just people, Doctor. That's all."

"If you would call your doctors in, I'll see that they are accorded all of the professional courtesies."

"Thank you. Actually, my staff have already taken the liberty of making the arrangements to bring them here. They should be arriving sometime before tomorrow morning." He saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry if I've overstepped my position, but you must understand that I had to use all the resources open to me to help him."

She was taken aback. A Head of Surgery wasn't used to being end run. "If you don't mind my asking, how long have you two been a couple?"

He regarded her before answering, as though he was reviewing their past together in his own mind. "We've been together for about four years now, but we've been friends since we were about twelve."

"He's lucky to have you."

"We're lucky to have each other."

She smiled in agreement. "Yes, I suspect that you are. You know, when an officer is injured there's always a lot of interest, but I've never seen it to this degree. I realize that a lot of the attention is because of who you are, but that young man seems to have quite a

number of important friends himself."

Garth slipped back into neutral, the walls of discretion back in place. "Yes. I suppose that he does."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude." Her manner became almost maternal. "You need to go lie down for a few hours and I suspect that you could use some food, too."

He gave her a look that was as close to a glare as he would allow himself. "I'm fine, thank you for our concern."

"No, you're not. Between your worry over your friend, dealing with the press, lack of food and sleep and the fact that your office has moved here, you're about at the end of your rope. You need to lie down." She smiled to soften her words. "I am medically qualified, you know."

Knowing that he was being rude and beyond the point of really caring, he turned and walked back into Dick's room without another word, unwilling to take advice, well meaning or not. Giving up this battle but not the war, the doctor continued with her rounds.

Garth spent the rest of the day mostly in Dick's room, leaving only when he had to so that he could either rehydrate or talk to Marcus or Ann. He tried to order them away. He told them to go home or back to the main offices at the UN or even the townhouse, but neither would be moved and he finally gave up and accepted that they were there as long as he was.

Together they handled the most pressing business, the calls and the reports. He delegated work and handled what he couldn't fob off. He spoke to the people who had to be spoken to and he signed what needed to be signed. He ate when he had to and he drank enough water to float a ship.

Somehow, they managed to do it without getting in the way of the hospital staff and made sure that the press didn't overrun the hospital. Working together, they made the best of it all.

Alfred saw that he had clean clothes and that they all had hot food. He was as quiet and as discreet as ever and made himself indispensable as he always did.

Bruce had the finest specialists brought in from Europe and the doctors arrived from Atlantis. A mini medical convention was held, impromptu in the hallways between all the surgeons and rehab people. The surface doctors conceded that they were the students here and stepped back to learn from the experts from underwater.

The Ambassador spent every minute that he could with his lover who was passing in and out of consciousness. He would speak softly and soothingly when he seemed to be awake, attentive to his every need then be sure that he wasn't disturbed when he drifted off again, though he was awake for longer and longer periods.

That evening Dick had gone back to sleep for the most part and Garth was glad since that would mean that he wouldn't be in pain for a while. He also admitted to himself, that he could use the break. Gently pushing the always-stray lock of hair out of Dick's eyes, he lay on the cot, allowing his eyes to close for a few minutes. Somehow, despite the bright lights of the room, the noises of the various machines, people walking around in the hallway and his own fears, he fell asleep. He didn't notice when Ann walked in to cover him with a blanket.

After what seemed to be seconds he became aware that there was someone else in the room. Forcing his eyes open he saw Phil Diaz standing by the bed, looking down at Dick's still sleeping form.

"What time is it?" He sat up stiffly.

"'Bout two in the morning. I think you missed some time there. They said that you've been out since like dinner. Have you left this place since I brought you in?"

Rubbing his face and the back of his neck, Garth shook his head. "Not really."

"Marie is worried about you. She says that if you need a good meal that I should bring you home. You wanna get outta here for a while?"

Marie? Oh, right, Phil's wife. "That's kind of her, and you, but I'm okay."

"I saw that you have a staff out there. They takin' care of you?"

"Yes they are. They're good at that." He rubbed some of the sleep out of his face.

"And you're takin' care of the kid here." It was a statement of fact.

"I'm not doing much. I'm just sitting with him."

"That's not what I heard. I was talkin' to a couple of the techs here, they say that you've been keeping an eye out for the kid. I heard that you pulled some strings and brought some specialists up here from your country and they're giving the Docs here lessons. I heard that you won't let anyone bother Dick who doesn't have to and I heard that you blew off the mayor twice yesterday. Plus you've got those other UN ambassador's coming all the way over here if they want to see you so you can stay."

Garth just shrugged. "He'd do the same for me."

"Y'know, when we had that cookout a while ago, how come you guys didn't show?" Garth looked at him. "Marie was wondering."

Oh, right. Now he remembered. Dick had said that they were invited and then they had argued and hadn't gone.

"None of the other cops knew that Dick lived with a man at that point. I was afraid that it would cause-problems."

"Nah. You're cool, the guys are cool." He looked down at Dick, sleeping. "Next cookout, you guys come, okay?"

Garth smiled. "Sounds good. And thank Marie for me, will you? Maybe I can get there in a couple of days, if that would be all right."

"Yeah, sure. Whaddya eat, fish, right?"

"Actually, I'm a vegetarian."

Phil looked at him strangely for the first time. "Shit, she'll rag you for that."

"But not that I'm gay?" He raised an eyebrow, half smiling.

"She don't care who you screw, she just wants to feed you. Thinks you look too thin in your pictures. Besides, she never met a prince before." He crossed over to the door. "Later."

Turning to look at Dick, he was slightly surprised to see that his eyes were open and that he seemed to have taken in the conversation. "Phil knows?"

"Yeah. He came to the apartment to bring me here. He's the one who told me that you'd been hurt. It couldn't have been all that hard for him to figure out; he'd seen the rings and all."

"Problems?"

Garth took Dick's hand gently. "No, no problems. The other cops have all been by, too. They seem to be all right with it. So long as you keep you hands to yourself in the showers, they're okay."

"Our shower?"

"All bets are off there." He leaned in to carefully kiss Dick's mouth. "Do you need anything?"

A slight headshake. "Just stay here." Garth held his hand.

"The doctors are happy with the progress that you're making. They told me that you could probably be released in another week or ten days. I think that it would be good if we went somewhere quiet so that you can start your recovery. Sound good?"

Dick nodded slightly. "Where?"

"That would be up to you, within reason. Bruce has offered any of his places to you. You could go to the Manor or Hydros. The cabin up at Sun Valley is nice. Wherever you go, I'll make sure that you have the medical care and the therapy that you'll need." Dick looked up at him, a sad expression on his face. "What is it Rob?"

"Your work?"

"I'm taking care of it. Don't worry about that."

Dick seemed to gather his strength for a moment. "Will I get better?"

"Yes." Garth spoke quietly, firmly and with conviction.

Sighing with doubt, Dick closed his eyes and drifted off again.

"You know, that's probably going to be the hardest part for him to recover from." Garth looked over to see Barbara in the doorway. "He's going to get frustrated and angry at the pain and the time that it's gong to take. There will be days when you'll have to make him do the therapy and there are going to be other days when he's going to just tell you to go fuck yourself." She rolled in a ways further. "You know that, don't you?"

"So you're speaking to me again?"

"You know that I was just upset. There are too many memories being in this place. All hospitals smell the same, have you ever noticed that?" He nodded. "I've known him almost as long as you have and he's only been really happy since you two have been together."

"I know it's the only time I've been happy." Apart from when he was with Tula, but that was just a given.

"I couldn't give him that. I wanted to and I tried, but I couldn't."

Garth looked at her. "We just love each other, try to take care of one another." He saw the look on her face. "He loves you, too, you know."

"I know." A pause. "Bruce came over to my place last night. He just sat there, didn't say a word, but I think he was afraid that Dick would end up like me."

"He's frightened, Barbara. He can't control this and that terrifies him. Not being in control is what he can't deal with. You know that."

"I heard that your doctors are blowing away the local experts. There's talk of some kind of medical exchange being set up. One of the surgeons was saying something about your guys becoming guest professors and lecturers up at Harvard and Johns Hopkins."

"Yeah, I know. My office is making the arrangements."

She glanced at him. "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm just tired of us being treated like freaks or something from a fairytale. We have a civilization that's millennia older than anything on the surface. Of course we're more advanced in some areas. We'd be idiots if we weren't."

She just nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not you."

"Have you decided where he's going to recover?" She poured Garth a glass of water from the bedside pitcher, he drank it without noticing. "It's going to be long."

"I know. Wherever he wants. We'll have the therapists brought in and whatever equipment they need. Someplace warm and quiet, I guess. Maybe Bruce's place in the Greek Islands, maybe the house he has in the Caribbean. I'm not sure yet."

"What about you?"

"I've asked for a leave of absence, but it's been refused because of the negotiations that are in progress. I'll only be able to get away for a couple of weeks, maybe less, then just weekends."

She looked up at him. "Shit, does he know? If he can't be with you it will go badly for him."

"No, I haven't told him. I thought that we could go somewhere and then when he sees the progress that he's making, I'll be able to go."

"Garth, I don't know. He's pretty dependent on you. You know that. He's tough, but you're his backbone."

He gave her an exasperated look. "That's not true. He's strong. He's a pro. He'll be okay. Besides, I can't just take off for like six months. You know that and so will he when he thinks about it."

"I guess."

"Oh, don't start."

She gave him a look to match his own, took a breath. "Do you need anything?"

"No-thanks. Some of my staff is here. I'm okay."

She nodded, storm over for a moment. "You know, you're nothing like everyone thinks. They all think that you're this shy, backward little fellow who wouldn't say boo to a goose. Someday everyone will realize that you've got steel balls and it's all a front."

"And that's the day I lose all usefulness at the UN." He kissed her cheek, and her hand caught the back of his head. She returned it. "Thanks, Barbara. I'll let you know if I need anything."

Smiling, she rolled out.

Dick's voice broke through. "They're not steel. I'd have noticed."

"That's our secret, right?"

The next week went by. Garth attended more and more to the paperwork and meetings that had built up while he was preoccupied and which he now, having no choice, had to deal with. Ann and Marcus did what they could to lighten the workload and keep the press and everyone else at bay but the day Arthur called and reamed him out for forgetting to cancel a meeting with the Prime Minister of Canada, standing the man up, he knew that he seriously had to get back to work and focus.

He rescheduled the Canadian meeting himself, apologizing and sending flowers and an entire smoked salmon. He made a couple of appearances at the office, delivered a speech he had been scheduled for and went to a couple of dinners that had been on the books for a while.

He had to start doing his job again and he knew it.

Dick made good progress. Even with the injured leg, they had him up and walking the halls a week after he was hurt. It was slow and painful, but he was off his back and his morale went up just knowing that he wasn't bed bound. His lung still hurt a lot, as did his ribs and his breathing and his wind were nowhere close to where they should be, but he was breathing on his own and that was huge.

The decision was made that he would go to Bruce's house in the Keys when he was released in a few days. It was close enough that his friends could get down to see him and it was still in the US so that medical supplies and personnel could be brought in with a minimum of trouble. Bruce would, of course, approve the use of one of his planes for whatever was needed. He could spend as much time as he wanted on the beach or swimming. It was quiet and warm and exactly what he needed.

He was on medical leave from the Haven Police Force for as long as was necessary. The mayor had made it clear that he would be awarded a medal for bravery when he was up to it. Garth still refused to meet with the man.

One afternoon while Dick worked with a physical therapist, Garth was down in the solarium working with Marcus and Xan, the Atlantean Ambassador to the US when Ann came over to them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Sergeant Diaz would like to speak with your Highness for a minute if you could." Glancing at the doorway where the cop was waiting, Garth nodded and walked over.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you guys, but Marie was wondering if you could make it for dinner on Saturday. I told her you're probably busy, but she was hoping that you could, so I said I'd ask."

"That's tomorrow, right? Ann? Am I free tomorrow for dinner?" She looked doubtful and started to shake her head, but he continued anyway. "That would be perfect. What time?"

"Say 6:30?"

"Great, thank you. Let me have your address before you leave and I'll be there. Can I bring anything?"

"Nah, well, okay, maybe some wine. Whatever you like." He was smiling-large. "Marie will be all tizzed knowin' a prince is comin' to dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Please ask her not to go to any trouble. Everyone makes a deal out of it and its just dinner. No big production, all right? I'd really like just a quiet family dinner. I never get that."

"Yeah, I'll tell her that, but she don't listen to me."

He went back to his seat where the conference call to Moscow was still in progress. "Forgive me, Mr. Premier, where were we?"

Half an hour later Ann caught his arm as he was going to grab a shower, "You know you have dinner with the Secretary General tomorrow. What do you want me to tell him?"

"Don't worry, I'll call him and explain. He knows what's going on and he'll understand. It was just a personal dinner anyway, nothing official; I'll reschedule it."

He caught the looks that he was getting from Xan and Marcus working nearby. He was pushing it and they all knew it. "I said that it would be all right." The other two men exchanged a look, but said nothing.

The next evening at 6:30 sharp, the car pulled up to the row house in a working class area of `Haven. The house, as expected, was neat, well maintained and had children's toys and a couple of bikes scattered on the front porch.

"Your Highness, I would feel better if you would allow me to enter the house before you."

"These people aren't going to assassinate me, and you're nor going to insult them by implying that I may be in some danger with them. Please wait for me. I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."

"Yes, your Highness." He got out of the car; carrying the bottle of wine and the bouquet of yellow roses they had stopped to pick up on the way.

Phil opened the front door as he approached.

"Hey, right on time, c'mon in. Marie! He's here." An attractive woman, small and dark came out of what was obviously the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, handing her the flowers and giving Phil the wine.

"I hope this is all right. I brought some up when I went home a few months ago."

"Phil said that you were a real gentleman and this guy hardly ever gives me flowers. Either married or gay, those are always the best ones. And I hear from Phil that you're both." Garth smiled with a small laugh as Marie tried to excuse herself to finish in the kitchen and put the roses in water.

"Please, could I help?" His hosts exchanged a look. "Really. I usually do the cooking at our apartment. Dick can barely boil water." Marie looked at him then over at her husband. He shrugged. "You said that you wanted a normal family dinner and that's what you're getting. I'll get the kids over at the pond-hockey practice. Be back in a few minutes." He turned to go, leaving them alone.

"I've never had a prince help with dinner before, you sure?"

He laughed. "Princes eat, too. I'm good for more than just giving speeches, you know."

He was set to work cutting up salad makings. "Phil tells me that you and Dick are really good friends." She caught what she had just said and blushed.

"We are, for years now. Don't be embarrassed, we're not." He started on a carrot. "Does it bother you?"

"Me? No. I got a gay brother." She sipped the wine Garth had just poured. "Say, this is really good. You can grow grapes underwater?"

"We grow all kinds of things hydroponicly. Lots of different plants and we also raise fish and shellfish for food just as you raise cattle or chickens."

Marie was watching him as he talked. "Phil said that you were nice. I'm real sorry that you've had so many bad things happen to you. I heard about that stalker and now Dick is hurt. That must be hard on you when you're so far from your home."

He ducked his head a little, not wanting to complain to a stranger. "There have been good things happening, too. The art exhibit that we opened is going well, Dick is getting better. And I have a lot of friends here. That helps a lot."

"I saw that big show at the Met. I was a chaperone for Stevie's class trip that went in. I had no idea that all those things were down there! And I saw that painting of you when you were a little boy-you were the cutest thing." She saw him blush. "Well, you're still cute. I mean, I saw your picture in People when you were wearing those real tight pants and you were standing on the deck of some ship. Did your mother know about that?"

He started chopping a cucumber, "That was part of a wet suit and I'd just finished a dive when someone snapped that. And I really did try to get its publication stopped. It was embarrassing." He seemed to really be self conscious about the semi-nude photo that had been splashed around the world. It wasn't that he cared about the nudity, such as it was, but the reactions were annoying.

She smiled at him, liking the young man standing in her kitchen. "No, it was a good picture-it showed you like you are-nice. "I would have liked to see more of the show, but with twenty-six kids, it was hard to look at things"

He blushed again. "If you'd like to go back to the exhibit, just tell me. We get a lot of tickets to give to friends. You could go as my guest when it's not crowded. I'd be happy to show you through, if you'd like."

"Oh, you don't have to do that. You must be real busy with the UN and helping with Dick. But I'd love to see the show again, especially after meeting you and all."

"I'd enjoy it, if you wouldn't mind going through with me. It reminds me of home and it's a break from everything."

"Well, okay, if you say so, it's a date. We'll pick a time when we can both make it, okay?" She handed him a carrot to start on. "I saw them talking about you on the news a while ago. I guess that it was after that crazy lady broke into your office. They said that you're going to be a king some day. Is that true?"

"I'm not really sure, but I might." No point telling her he already was one; he preferred to keep things simple

"That must be scary." She was handing him some romaine lettuce to start on.

"It is." He looked up from his chopping to see that she was watching his answer. Most people thought that it would be fun to be a king. Well, maybe for a day or two but the reality was terrifying. "I don't know if I'll be a good king and I have to be good if it comes to it. If I fail it would be…"

"You'll do just fine."

He laughed. "You don't even know me. What makes you think so?" He seemed to really want to know what she was thinking. "I mean, you've only just met me."

"Yeah, well, I got a feeling. You're smart and care about things. That's easy to see."

The dinner went well. The food was good, the conversation was friendly and there was a lot of laughter. Marie and Phil were amazed at the stories Garth told of his home and growing up underwater and the two kids found their new hero when he told them that his first pet was a large octopus, that he wasn't afraid of sharks, that he knew how to surf and regularly dove treasure ships. The main meal done, the boys were allowed to go upstairs to pay Sega, leaving the adults to talk some more.

They weren't all that surprised when he told them that homosexuality was accepted where he came from, that there was no stigma attached and that if things had worked out differently, by now he would be married to a woman he had dated for years and likely have a couple of kids.

"Yeah, but you and Dick seem like you're pretty happy together. I mean, you seem real close. How come you were going to marry a woman?"

Garth stated the obvious. "I loved her and she loved me."

"So, you broke up or something?"

"She died." He said it calmly, having accepted it years ago.

"…No wonder you were so freaked when I told you about Dick getting hurt."

He looked at his plate. "Yeah, well, I've been through it before."

"Sounds like you've been through a lot."

"That which does not kill me makes me stronger."

"Huh?"

"It's a quote. I guess that having been through a lot makes me able to deal with things."

Marie started to clear the dishes, making room for dessert and coffee. As she was setting out the homemade apple pie she asked him, "So how did you and Dick meet? I mean, it hardly seems like you would travel in the same circles."

"When I was a kid I was sent up here to the surface to study and to learn how to live here, how to speak English well enough to get along and how to cope with the differences. One of the business contacts we had was Dick's guardian and we basically met through him when we were about twelve. We've been friends since we met." He wasn't about to tell her the contact was through Batman and the Justice League and the Teen Titans

Marie handed Garth a piece of pie and put the kettle on for tea. She remembered Phil telling her that he asked for it at the hospital, that he didn't like coffee. "Why did Dick have a guardian? It's none of my business, but where were his parents?"

"They died when he was about eight."

"I didn't know that."

"Well, it's not something he brings up a lot."

"What happened to them?"

"They were murdered, Dick saw it happen."

"That why he became a cop?"

"I've never asked him, but I would think so, yes." He took a bite of the pie. "This is really good. Usually when I go out for dinner, people take me to some fancy restaurant and it's very nice, but it's all sort of put on and formal. This is-pleasant. I haven't been able to just sit and eat a meal without my staff or the press or someone hovering for two weeks now. I really appreciate you letting me come here tonight."

"Marie was afraid that you'd be insulted by ziti for dinner." Phil was smiling at his wife.

"I like ziti. And I like apple pie, too." He smiled to himself. "This has been a treat for me. Thank you."

One of the boys came into the kitchen. "Dad? There's some guy outside who says that he has to talk to the prince." He looked at Garth, who stood immediately and went to the front door. Marcus was standing on the porch.

The words were in Atlan and he looked uncomfortable at having to be the one to bring bad news. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I've been asked to bring you back to the hospital." He saw Garth go pale. "I'm afraid that there's been a slight setback."

"How slight?"

"Mr. Grayson has been taken back to surgery. A blood clot has been discovered in his injured lung and the doctors felt that it should be removed before it caused a problem."

Phil and Marie were behind him.

"I'm sorry, but…" It was obvious what the problem was.

"Yes, go."

Twenty minutes later Garth was back in the same spot he had stood when Dick had first been brought in, again looking through the same small window into the same operating room.

"What happened?" Marcus was beside him; Garth asked without turning his head.

"He was working in the therapy room when the aide noticed that he seemed to be in pain. He was examined, I believe some sort of scan was performed and they brought him here within a few minutes of the results. There seemed to be some concern that the clot could detach and cause some trouble."

Garth spoke quietly, as he always did. "Like a stroke or a heart attack, maybe brain damage?" Marcus just looked at him. There was no point in repeating things they both

knew.

Two hours later he looked up from the hard plastic chair he'd finally sat in to see Stephanie Weidman in front of him.

"We got it cleared. He's in recovery. He'll be given a different coagulant to prevent this from happening again." She took a good look at him. "You go lie down. You need it."

He didn't move. He was tired and drained and scared and didn't know how much more he would be able to handle. Dick had been getting better; he'd been able to see the improvement almost daily and now this. Arthur had reamed him again that afternoon for not giving enough time to his work and the other delegates were getting annoyed with having to deal with his staff. On top of that he was so tired that he didn't think he could have moved at that moment if a gun had been placed at his head.

It was starting to overwhelm him and he knew it.

"He's going to recover from this? I know it's a set back, but he'll get better? He should be up again in a day or two. Then he'll be back in rehab and then, probably in another week or so he'll be released to that little paradise you've arranged for him to get better in."

Garth nodded, barely holding on by his fingernails.

The doctor continued. "You're the one I'm worried about now. You've been working your job, both here and at various meetings and dinners, you've hardly left his side and you aren't getting either the food or the moisture that you need to keep yourself healthy. Your own doctors are concerned about you. In addition to that, the work you do is high stress under the best of circumstances, and what you're dealing with right now is probably the worst combination you could come up with." He sighed and kept his eyes on the floor between his feet. "I want you to go to that island in the Keys with him and sleep for at least three weeks. Will you do that?"

"I have to work through my schedule for the next two months, there are a lot of things that were pushed back because of this, and after that I think that I'm probably being transferred to another posting. I have to prepare for that."

The doctor's voice softened, as if she was speaking to her son, perhaps. "You're exhausted. If you don't take some time off, you'll collapse like you did at the UN last year." He looked up at her. "Your people are worried about you and they're afraid to say anything because of who you are…but they're right." She sat beside him. "You won't be any good to anyone if you're sick again."

He straightened in his seat, stood. "Thank you, Doctor, but I'll be fine."

Her voice became harder. "You really must…"

He fixed her with a look that was produced by millennia of royal breeding. "You'll forgive me, doctor, but `must' is not a word that is used to princes."

He stood and walked away before she could respond.

Two days later he woke at the side of Dick's bed, feeling his lover's hand stroking his face. "Why didn't you tell me? I wish that you had."

Blinking his eyes open he looked a question at Dick. "Tell you what?"

"I heard Marcus and a couple of the others talking outside of the door there. Your being here has caused problems for you with the UN and Arthur, hasn't it?"

"No, it's fine. Really it is." Garth sat up, taking Dick's hand. "Where else would I be with you injured? You know that."

"Xan said that you're being threatened with a transfer to either London or Canberra."

"You know Arthur, he talks. It doesn't mean anything." He tried to busy himself by getting a glass of water.

"Garth, you have to go back to your office. I want you to get out of here. Take your staff with you. Today."

"Rob, you know I won't leave you." He picked up Dick's hand, the one without the IV, and kissed it.

"I love you for what you're doing, but now you have to go. If you don't do your job, you'll end up being sent to Australia or someplace. I want you where we can be together."

"Robbie, it will be fine. You worry too much."

"Get the fuck out of here. I mean it. I'm surrounded by the hospital doctors and Bruce's doctors and your doctors. I have physical therapists and psychologists watching every twitch. I'll be fine. You need to get back to work."

"I want to be here."

Dick fixed him with a look that would have done justice to Garth's ancestors. "And you're a servant of the crown. Go serve." His face softened. "Garth, I know what you're doing and I love you, but I'm all right. You need to be at the UN and I need to know that you'll be at home when I'm ready to go back there."

Garth's face was an open book to Dick, he could see what he was asking, but it had to be done.

"Please Garth, do this for me." He put some slight pressure on Garth's hand. "You'll come visit me in the Keys when I'm released. Now, please go back to work."

Garth kissed his hand again, nodding, unhappy but knowing that he had to deal with the other obligations in his life, not wanting to upset Dick. He called out the doorway. "Ann?" She appeared in about half a minute.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please inform the others and call the office. We're returning to our regular work routine as soon as we can get ourselves back to New York."

She looked momentarily surprised but covered quickly. "Of course. I'll start at once."

He turned back to the bed. "Satisfied?"

"I will be when I walk back into the apartment with you."

They were still holding hands. "You know that they expect you to make a full recovery. I've been talking with all of your minders. It might take a little while, but you'll be yourself at the end of it."

"I know" He touched Garth's face again. "I'm sorry that you were put through this. I know that it was like when-well, you know. I'd give anything not to have made you go through it again."

Garth started to protest but was cut off.

"I've been thinking that it's been easier on me in a way. I know how I feel and that I'm getting better, but all you could do was sit here and watch me. God, I'm so sorry about that for you."

They could hear movement out in the hallway as the temporary office was dismantled and taken to the elevators, people were walking back and forth, and things were being wheeled out. Garth was looking out the door as things went by.

"I should see if there's anything that they need me for, but I'll be back." A quick kiss and he was gone.

Dick settled back, resting for a while when Marcus walked to the side of the bed. "Thank you for convincing him that he needed to go back to work. He wouldn't listen to any of us."

"Is there a really a chance that he'll be transferred?"

Marcus looked uncomfortable. "There's a chance. His Majesty was-annoyed, but I think that going back today and picking up where we left off will probably appease him for now."

"I guess that you were all caught in the middle of this. I'm sorry for that."

"Mr. Grayson, we all know that if you weren't in the picture he wouldn't be able to function as he does. We're trying to lay the groundwork for the next few hundred years of contact with the surface. Should we fail, we will likely not survive as a nation. If we need to include your relationship in the equation to make it all work, then it's a minor concession for us to make."

"You're a practical man, Marcus."

He nodded. "Yes, I am." One of the other staffers said something to him in Atlan, he nodded then turned back to Dick. "We're about ready to go. I truly am glad that you're doing better, sir. I understand that you'll be released in a few days; that's good news."

"How are you and Ann getting along?"

"Fine, very well, thank you." He smiled at some private thought. "It won't last because it can't, but for now it's good. She seems to understand that."

"Seems to be a common thing to need to know." Dick sounded slightly bitter.

"Forgive me, but you're an intelligent man. I can only think that you entered with your eyes open, as did he." Marcus decided to cross a line and regarded him calmly. "Ann told me that you advised her to take it one day at a time. You were right, it's the only way."

"Better to take the chance than live alone?" It was a challenge.

"I think so, and I think that both the prince and Ann would agree. If you hadn't survived your injuries he would have grieved, but he wouldn't regret that you were together while it lasted. I suspect that's how he'll view this in the future." He nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I've work to do. I hope to see you again soon, sir."

Garth came back into the room. "We're about ready to go but I'll be back later tonight."

"No, you won't. I want you to go home and sleep. Call me on the phone, but I want you home and in our bed, okay? You're tired."

About to argue, Garth conceded. "…All right, but I'll stop in tomorrow for a few minutes." He took Dick's hand again. "Stephanie told me that you're being released the day after tomorrow and that you'll be taken down to Florida directly from here. You'll be lying on the beach and getting healthy again."

"And you'll come down when you can."

"Yes." He leaned over, kissing Dick's mouth. "I love you, you know that."

Dick nodded. He knew that and he knew that they wouldn't have too much more time together, maybe a few years at most. Garth probably knew it too.

"Go, they're waiting for you. I'll see you on the beach soon." Garth caressed his cheek and jaw, kissing his forehead, then left.

And then they'd take it one day at a time because there was no other choice.

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