Lane hated that Mike was embarrassed about them. He wished his friend could be open, but he guessed he wasn't important enough. He should take it as a good sign that Mike told the group he was moving to Jersey, but he hadn't mentioned their relationship.

The door opened, and instead of bitching about his insecurities, he decided ignoring the issue would be less of a hassle. Mike would eventually come around. Maybe.

“I'm making some eggs and bacon. Want any?”

“Sure.” Mike moved to the den and stared out the window. Lane wanted to go to him, to get him to realize the guys would be fine with their relationship, but he couldn't. He had to eat and head into the city to work.

Lane cracked three extra eggs and put four extra strips of bacon on the tray. Once it started cooking, the food smelled delicious. Mike stayed at the window until Lane said the food was done.

They ate in silence for a while, and he guessed the moodiness was part of the process with Mike.

“The guys seem good,” Lane said.

“I can't believe someone tried to kill Clay and Thomas.”

“I know. It's crazy. I wish I could have been there to help.”

Mike nodded but didn't say anything. He finished his meal and washed his plate. He turned from the sink to find Mike still sitting in the same spot, only half his food eaten. Lane felt odd leaving for work, but he had to go. He kissed Mike goodbye and caught the bus into town. Mike said he was going to work a little, but Lane worried about him.

His shift wasn't too strange, although they did get a guy with a pill bottle stuck in his rectum. He said he fell on it, but Lane knew better.

After his shift, he grabbed some food and headed back to his apartment and Mike. He was looking forward to some snuggle time with his lover. The place was quiet, so he stripped and took a quick shower. Mike was sleeping peacefully when he crawled into bed. It was weird, but good. He liked watching Mike sleep, and he tried to keep his eyes open, but soon he drifted off.

Lane woke to Mike punching him. The hit wasn't good but still fucking hurt. Lane blocked the next punch by lifting his arms. Then Mike started to choke him. He struggled, fighting off Mike's hold. It was difficult since he’d just woken and hadn’t been ready for the punch. Mike got a good grasp on his neck before Lane was able to use both hands and shove him away. He rolled off the bed and tried to escape but Mike grabbed his ankle. He stumbled and Mike came after him.

“Mike, stop,” he yelled as he was shoved against the wall. He fought back, slapping at Mike's hands, but it seemed useless.

“You can't do this,” Mike yelled.

Lane screamed and pushed at Mike, trying to wake him from his weird semi-awake dream. Mike got in two more good punches, hurting Lane each time. Finally, Lane gave a good enough shove and pushed Mike to the mattress.

Mike bounced, his eyes blinking rapidly before they grew wide. His lips stretched into a howl as he curled into a ball and buried his head in the mattress.

Lane gasped for air and licked at his lip. He tasted blood. The attack had been bad. He wiped at his face, wincing in pain. Mike might have broken his nose.

Anger churned, but he knew it wasn’t Mike’s fault. His heart squeezed, and he limped to the bed and sat. He stretched out his hand, pausing before putting his hand on Mike's back. Mike cried quietly as he shivered. Desperation filled Lane. They couldn't live this way. He couldn’t fight off Mike every single night. Something had set him off, and they needed to figure out what had done it.

An urgent knock sounded at his door. He reached for underwear and shorts, figuring this wasn’t going to be good.

“Police, open up.” Was called out in the hall. “There was a disturbance reported.”

“Oh shit,” Mike said. He groaned as he sat up, tears still streaming down his face. “Lane, I didn't mean—”

“I know. I need to answer the door,” he said as he pulled on his shorts and grabbed a shirt before he left the room. He paused and glanced back in, wishing he could take this demon from Mike, but knowing he couldn’t. “Get dressed. We’re going to have to answer some questions.”

His steps were slow, his heart heavy as he headed to the door. He looked like shit. There was no hiding the truth. Mike had beat the crap out of him. But Mike wasn’t an abuser. He had issues, and he needed help, but he hadn’t done this because he was angry or wanted to hurt him.

He pulled the door opened and waved the cops in. “Might as well come in. Do you want any coffee?”

“No, sir. Do you need to step outside?” one of the cops asked.

“No. It looks bad. I know, but I’m fine.” He looked up and saw two cops who looked on edge. “Really, everything is fine. I know how it looks. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

The cops looked doubtful. “Do you have a firearm on the premises?”

“Yes, it’s in a drawer, the ammunition is hidden in a case. The key is on a ring that would be hard for anyone to find.”

“Is there someone else here?” The other officer asked.

He nodded. “Come on out, Mike,” Lane called into the bedroom.

Both cops put their hands on their guns, and his heart sank.

“He’s a good guy. He just—”

Mike stepped out of the bedroom, his eyes red, his nose running. He looked like hell. His gaze flashed to Lane and he shuddered. Mike shook his head and groaned.

“I’m so sorry.” Mike stood by the bedroom door, one hand covered his mouth as his brows pinched together and a sob escaped. He took one step and spoke. “I didn’t mean—”

The cops stepped between him and Mike, and Lane’s heart sank even more. He’d seen his share of domestic abuse victims in the ER. He knew how bad this looked. Many of the people who made excuses, were lying to themselves. He’d shaken his head plenty of times when people went back to their abuser. But this really was different. Mike hadn’t hit him out of anger. He wasn’t an abuser. The cops, the medics, the nurses, and if they ended up in the ER, the doctors wouldn’t believe anything he said.

“I know this looks bad. We were in the military together. He’s just dealing with some stuff.”

“I need to be admitted,” Mike said just barely above a whisper.

Lane shook his head. “We should call Sharron before you do anything.”

One of the cops held up his hand. “Who is Sharron?”

“His therapist,” Lane said. “He has an appointment today.”

The cops looked at each other before one of them move closer to Mike and nodded to the door. “How about we step outside.”

“Really, he’s not a danger to me. He’s awake now, and he’s not going to hit me.” A sick feeling turned Lane’s stomach.

“I think we’d like to hear you say it without him in the room with you,” one of the cops said.

Lane met Mike’s gaze, wishing he could pull his man into a hug. “Please talk to Sharron before you do anything.”

Mike was at the door, about to leave when he turned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really didn’t mean to do this. I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, really it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. Sharron can help.”

Mike left the apartment, and Lane reached up to wipe his face but winced in pain. He’d forgotten about his injuries. His head was starting to hurt, and his heart pounded with fear that something would happen to Mike. He was in love with the man, and no one would understand this wasn’t abuse, not in the traditional sense. Mike had just lost control.

The door pushed open and an EMT stepped in. Lane recognized the guy. He didn’t come over to the hospital where Lane worked often, but there were a few times they transferred patients from Jersey to Sinai when the injuries required it.

The guy came over and assessed Lane’s injuries, shaking his head. Then he met Lane’s gaze and recognition shown in his eyes.

“I’m Leo Sanchez. I know you, don’t I?”

“Yeah. I work in the ER over at Sinai.”

Leo nodded. “Hmm, what happened?”

“I’m fine.”

The guy lifted his brows and shook his head. “Let me get you cleaned up, and I’ll assess your injuries after we get a look.”

The cop was still there taking notes. “Could I have your name?”

“Lane Ashford.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“Mike Brewer.”

“Lane, you’ve seen people come in with injuries like this,” Leo said.

He nodded as sadness filled him. Everyone would assume Mike had done this because he was a jerk. That wasn’t the case.

“I need to see Mike,” Lane said.

The cop gave him a hard stare and shook his head in a way that made Lane think he wasn’t going to go easy on Mike. “Listen, why don’t you let us talk to him.” The cop shrugged. “Sometimes with guys, you know, they get angry. Maybe we can tell him how it’s going to be if he keeps doing this. Maybe a trip to the station will help him gain perspective.”

Anger made his heart beat faster. Mike’s perspective wasn’t off, and going to the station would only make things worse. “He didn’t do this on purpose.”

The cop and Leo both looked doubtful. They shared a look, and he knew no matter how many times he said it, they wouldn’t listen to him.

He sighed and submitted to the process of Leo cleaning him up. He needed to get to Mike. He didn’t want his boyfriend locked up because he had an issue with some memory or event. Maybe Clay and Thomas almost getting killed had done it.

The door opened and Mike and the other cop came back in. The cop had Mike in cuffs, his head was down.

Lane’s heart squeezed, and he hopped up, moving toward Mike but he was stopped by the cop.

“Mike, honey, are you okay?” Lane asked.

He nodded but didn’t meet Lane’s gaze. Lane turned to the cop and shook his head.

“Please take off his cuffs.”

“We can take him to the station and lock him up for twenty-four hours, give you time to think about pressing charges.”

Lane shook his head and wanted to yell; instead, he purposely lowered his voice and shook his head again. “No way. I’m not pressing charges.”

“I don’t think you’ve had time to think properly. Maybe a few hours away from him and you’ll change your mind.”

“No. I’m not pressing charges. I tripped. I fell down. He didn’t do this.” He couldn’t allow them to take Mike. His man was hurting, and there was something wrong. He wasn’t a jerk.

Mike met his gaze, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. Mike didn’t do this. Let him go. Please.”

The cop who had stayed with him stood up and moved between them. “Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here with Mike. I think you’re allowing your emotions to rule.” The cop turned to look at Mike then back to him. “This Sharron person. Call her and see what she says.”

Lane pulled out his phone and called Sharron’s private number, praying she picked up. The phone rang four times before there was an answer.

“Dr. Ross here.”

“Hi Sharron, it’s Lane.”

“Lane, it’s good to hear from you. I have high hopes for your friend Mike. What can I do for you?”

He sighed and met Mike’s gaze. “There’s been an incident. Mike had a bad night. Well, since we sleep during the day it’s night, but I guess for everyone else it’s day.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“The cops”—he sucked in a breath, trying to keep from crying—“they’re here. They want to take him in. I’m begging them to let him go. I don’t want to press charges.”

Sharron was silent for a moment. “Okay, could you let me talk to one of the officers?”

“Sure.” He handed his phone to the cop and shrugged. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Hello.”

Lane stared at Mike, wishing he would look up. He didn’t want Mike obsessing too much about this. He had to be close to freaking out. He knew better than to go to Mike. The cops would stop him, and it would only make matters worse.

The officer on the phone with Sharron nodded then turned to face Mike. “Okay, let me talk to them.” He handed the phone back to Lane and moved to stand in front of Mike.

“Will you go to see Dr. Ross right now?”

“Yes.” Mike nodded.

The cop turned to look at Lane. “We could still take him downtown. Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean he has a right to hit you.”

“No, please don’t take him. Really, he didn’t do it to hurt me. He’s a good guy.”

The cop shook his head, his lips thinned. “Okay, let him loose.”

Lane lifted the phone, finding Sharron on the line. “I’ll make an appointment.”

“Just come down. I’ll see you and Mike this afternoon. His appointment is in a couple of hours anyway, and I’m free for the hour before his appointment.”

Leo leaned in and caught his gaze. “You still need to be seen by a doctor. I won’t make you go with me in the ambulance, but you need stitches. I’ve applied a butterfly, but you need more.”

Lane nodded and waited for Leo to move out of his way. He stepped close to Mike who’d just had his cuffs removed. His boyfriend didn’t move, didn’t look up. Lane wrapped his arms tight around him, but Mike didn’t respond at all.

“Let’s head into the city and go see Sharron.”

“Okay.” Mike’s voice was hollow; his eyes seemed empty.

Lane hated everything about this. He wanted the fun, jovial, always willing to crack a joke, quick to smile Mike back. But this was their reality. Mike had some issues, and wishing he wasn’t having those issues didn’t change anything.

The cops left with Leo. They were alone, and Mike looked defeated. Lane wanted to help him, but he wasn’t sure what he could do.

“You should have let them arrest me. After what I did to you, I need to be in jail.”

Lane shook his head. “No, not jail. You might need treatment, but you don’t need jail. Being behind bars won’t help you.”

“I really hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine. Come on, we need to go see Sharron.”

Mike nodded then closed his eyes before heading into the bedroom. Lane followed and changed clothes, deciding to put on sweats and a shirt he didn’t care about just in case someone in the ER decided to be funny and threaten to cut him out of his clothes. He slipped his shoes on and watched Mike. Worry filled him. Though he’d been friends with Mike for years, he didn’t know the guy really well. What if everything he thought he knew about Mike was wrong? But this was Mike, his buddy. He wasn’t mean or evil. He was a nice guy who was his friend, and Lane wasn’t wrong about him. Mike wasn’t doing this on purpose, it wasn’t his fault.

They rode in silence, only speaking when they needed to. They both got strange looks, and a couple of people stepped away quickly when they saw them. Mike seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into himself. Something had to change. He couldn’t allow Mike to slip away.

Lane followed Mike up the elevator to Sharron’s office. They stepped in as Sharron came out to the reception area. Her steps faltered when she saw Lane, but she quickly recovered as she turned to Mike.

“I believe Lane needs to head down to the ER for some treatment. I’d like to have you come in and we can discuss what happened.”

Mike nodded but didn’t say anything. Lane tried to get his attention, but Mike wouldn’t even look at him. He felt like crap. Everything was going to hell and he had no idea how to fix it. Sharron took Mike to her office, and he left the reception room to head to the ER.

A doctor he knew took one look at him and rolled his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lane said.

“I hope the other guy looks worse.”

His stomach turned as desperation filled him. He didn’t want anyone to wish Mike was worse off. Hell, Mike was the best guy he knew

“You know, if you came in like this more than once I’d be worried. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

The doctor nodded then led him to a bed where he was poked, prodded, and eventually stitched up. An hour later, he was back in Sharron’s office. The door to the office opened, and Mike and Sharron stepped out.

“Oh good, you’re back. Mike and I had a good talk. Would you like to come back and we can talk?”

“Yes.” He followed them into Sharron’s office and sat next to Mike. He held out his hand, worried Mike wasn’t going to take it. One second went past then two, after four seconds, Mike wove his fingers with Lane’s. He still hadn’t met his gaze, but this was a step in the right direction.

“Mike told me about the conversation you had with your friends in Florida. I believe that triggered an episode.”

Mike shivered and Lane squeezed his fingers. Mike glanced up and met his gaze, holding the look for a few seconds. Deep in there, past the guilt and sadness, he saw Mike. They could recover from this, if Mike allowed it.

“So Mike, you have something you want to say to Lane.”

Lane held his breath, praying his man didn’t do something stupid. He waited, but Mike didn’t speak up.

“This is a safe place, Mike. You can say anything here,” Sharron said.

“I-I’m afraid. I don’t—I can’t… I feel bad. I shouldn’t have hit you. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

Sharon cleared her throat. “It’s okay, Mike. Say what you wanted to.”

Mike blew out a breath and Lane feared what was coming next. “I need help. I feel awful about what happened. I don’t—I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

Lane leaned closer to Mike. “I’m going to be fine.”

Mike shook his head. “You look awful. What if—”

“No what if’s,” Lane said.

“I can’t take the chance I’ll really hurt you.”

Lane reached up and held Mike’s face so they were looking at each other. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re together. That’s it. End of story. I’m yours and you’re mine, and we will deal with this together.”

Mike’s lower lip quivered, and he drew in a breath that sounded more like a sob. “I feel so bad.”

“We’ll figure this out. We’ll get through this. You’re the only one for me. The only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I need you, Mike, no one else.”

Mike nodded and wiped at his eyes, swiping away the moisture running down his cheeks. They had a lot to work through, but he had faith they could get through this.

“I think it would be good if Mike set up appointments every day for the next week. We’ll start working through his issues and start doing some biofeedback therapy.”

“Do you think he’ll be good for the study?” Lane asked.

Sharron nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“We’ve talked about using meditation and how to spot trouble before it happens.”

“I swear I’ll be better,” Mike said.

Lane squeezed his fingers. “I trust you.”

Mike shivered. “I don’t know that you should.”

“I’m going to trust you. I know you’re a good man, and I love you. I want you in my life.”

Mike blew out a breath, relief passing over his face. He looked down then glanced up quickly, catching Lane’s gaze. Lane never wanted to forget this moment. Mike was broken, there was no question about it, but in the one brief moment, he’d seen how utterly connected they were. Together, they would make it.

“We’ll set up your week of appointments now and then we’ll get you in to see the neurologist. I’ll be in tomorrow to see you, and we’ll start once a day on Monday.”

Mike nodded and glanced at Lane again, his gaze shifting away quickly. There was guilt and pain in Mike’s gaze. They left the office, and Sharron followed them out to the receptionist desk.

“When would you like to come in? I have openings at eight in the morning next week.”

“Works for me,” Lane said. “I could shower here at the hospital and ride back to my place with you.”

“Sure.” Mike nodded and pulled out his phone, making a note of the appointment times. Sharron shook their hands before they left. Mike was quiet on the way out of the hospital. Before they left the building, Mike stopped him. “Don’t you have to work tonight?”

He shook his head. “Um, they gave me the night off.”

“Oh.” They walked outside and caught a bus, heading to a connector where they could pick up the bus to his apartment.

They made it home, and he worried Mike wasn’t going to feel comfortable with him for a while. He needed to break the ice fast.

“Hey, I want you to know I really do want you in my life.”

Mike nodded but didn’t say anything. They headed into the bedroom and Mike paused, looking at the blood on the sheets and the smear on the wall.

“I fucked up.”

“I want you to think about something.”

“What?”

“Could we Skype with the guys? I think if you told them, maybe you could get some relief.”

“What if they think I’m being ridiculous? I mean, who else has needed help?”

Lane held out his hand. Mike eventually took his, squeezing his fingers. “I did. You don’t know what the rest of the guys have been going through. We need to open up, really open up and be honest.”

“Do you think they’ll be pissed?”

Lane shook his head. “Why would they be?”

“Because I beat the shit out of you. You haven’t looked in the mirror lately. You look terrible.”

Lane chuckled, wincing in pain. “They’ll be fine.”

Mike shook his head, then nodded, and closed his eyes, pain marring his features. “I’m so sorry.”

Lane moved in close and cupped Mike’s cheeks. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”