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“I know. And I love that about you.”
He left me with more memories, albeit they were much better ones. Sure, they were centered around the trauma of my past, but he was with me after it happened. He saved me, then barely left my side until I was shipped back to the states.
We spent hours together in the hospital, then after, as I was recovering, waiting for my transfer. We became so close it was as if we had been friends always.
“Try it. I don’t really have friends here, and the people I know are all Noah’s friends. So far, anyway. Everyone is nice. No one gives us hell for being gay. Sure, that could change, but for now, it’s nice. It’s why I always avoided small towns.”
“Me too, and why Damon left his. Or, one of the reasons. His hometown gave him a lot of hell before he took off from there. I guess I’m worried another would just break him.”
“He’s strong. He’s got to be, to be with you.”
“Stop sucking up. I’ll talk to him about it, along with the other shit. Pushy bottom boy.”
“I wear that title proudly.”
At the doctor, Noah and I were taken into separate rooms, which I was glad for. The woman doctor, Amy Drake, she was to become my new primary provider, so I had to trust that she’d listen to me.
After she ordered the testing, she sat with me to go over my history, and I just unloaded, telling her about my PTSD and ADHD diagnosis, then my injury as well. It had healed, just left the nasty scar that ran down my leg. She was much more interested in my emotional issues.
“Have you taken anti-depressants?”
“I’m not good at pills every day, and they don’t work well on the panic. I was given diazepam in small quantities for it. I’m hoping to again.”
“You know we hate giving those out anymore, but with your history, I think I can manage it. Ten a month?”
“That’s more than enough, thank you.”
“Any other issues? I’d like to refer you to a therapist. And I could insist on that, with the meds.”
“If you have to insist on it, fine, but can I do a Skype therapist? We live way out in the middle of nowhere and it’s winter.”
“I hear you. How about I have the office call you to set up the best times? I’d really feel better if you keep at it.”
She and every other doctor on the planet. “Sure. That would be great.”
When I told Noah about it, he was cautiously optimistic. “Could be good.”
“I’ve been to therapists, Noah,” I whined because the frustration was killing me. “They help, okay, but not that much. They all want to shove anti-depressants down your throat and call it a day.”
“I have heard of someone, someone special. Now, hear me out,” he added at the last, seeing my hands curl into fists.
“I’m listening.”
“You’re half listening. Eli, I just want to help you. Please, Eli, don’t shut me out on this stuff. I need to know what’s going on in your head. That’s me as your Dom and as your partner.”
I let the tension go and uncurled my hands, setting each of them on my thighs. “Sorry, Noah. I hate therapy. I hate all of that. If you want to know the truth, it brings it back harder.”
“Harder than just stuffing it away, right?”
I smiled, having been called on my bullshit. “Well, yes. I’m a guy. Isn’t it in our DNA or something?”
“I’ve known women that did the same thing, and no matter the gender, it’s not good. I, uh, beat the hell out of my barn for keeping all my stuff inside me. I took a 2X4 and went crazy on it. Good thing I had Bossie out for some air that day. I would have scared her so bad, the milk in her woulda curdled.”
“I’ve had my moments, as you’ve seen.”
“I have. Sometimes a screaming purge is good, but more often than not, people beat the crap out of themselves more than anything else. I’ll give someone a call, and maybe they can help me out.”
“Okay. If you find someone, I’ll try. That doctor? She’s going to send me to someone that won’t be able to handle me, I know it. I won’t be able to mention our kink without being dissected like some insect.”
