was sitting at his desk when the cops came to him.

 

Dave didn't want the cops to come to him. Dave wanted to go home and curl up in his bed that smelled like Ken. Or he wanted to go to Ken's room and hold his hand while Ken slept off the effects of the disease that had gotten sprayed up his nose.

 

He didn't chase the cops away, go home, or run to Ken's room. He might be a terrified lover worrying about the father of his children, but he was also a doctor. He had a job to do. "Gentlemen." He dragged himself into a sitting position. "How can I help you?"

 

The deputies exchanged glances and then the oldest of them stepped forward. He had a paunch and his eyes were bloodshot. He stank of stale gin too. "Dr. Stanek, my name is Mike Poulsen. I'm the Public Information Officer for the Onondaga County Sheriff's department. I'm also a close friend of Deputy Sykora's. I was wondering if we could talk for a moment."

 

Dave swallowed and looked down. "I'm afraid Deputy Sykora is my patient. I haven't been authorized by any family members to discuss the details of his case with you. I know you're worried—cops are always worried when one of their own gets attacked and that's reasonable. But there are actual laws about this."

 

Another of the deputies, this one a little younger, cleared his throat. "We don't want you to spill secrets, or even to give us treatment details, Doctor. We're friends of Ken's, but we're not here as his friends."

 

"We're here because we know you were working closely with Ken." Poulsen's eyebrow twitched, just a little. Dave blushed. "He's been keeping us updated on the case, and we know he'd narrowed down his suspect list. What we don't know is how narrow it had gotten or who was on it."

 

Dave huffed out a little laugh. He didn't care how bitter it sounded. "Gentlemen, I can tell you exactly who did this. I just can't prove it." He cradled his head in his hands. "It's like knowing there's a cure for your patient out there and not being able to give it to them."

 

"Who is it?" Poulsen leaned forward. "You shouldn't have to worry about proof. That's our job."

 

Dave glared at him. "I'm a scientist and a citizen. Proof is my biggest concern." Then he sighed. "Second biggest concern, I suppose. Seeing Ken in that bed up there, confused and suffering—I want this guy taken down." Then he looked up again. "But I want him taken down legally, you know? I don't want him to walk on a technicality."

 

Poulsen sat in the chair across from Dave's desk. "Do you know the person you think did it?"

 

"Yes." Dave closed his eyes and made a decision. "It was one of my medical students. Tony Whalen."

 

"Why do you suspect him?" The other cop put his hands on the back of Poulsen's chair and tilted his head to the side.

 

"Because for one thing, he came in here and was extremely sympathetic to the killer. He tried to blame me when those patients died and not the killer. Said the killer had been trying to send a message about meningitis, and it was on me to stop them from dying." Dave took a deep, shuddering breath. He didn't entirely disagree with Whalen there. It wasn't his fault that people were dying, but it was absolutely his fault that he hadn't stopped it and cured more of them.

 

"That's not normal?" Poulsen tilted his head. "I mean, I don't agree with that, obviously, but there are plenty of people who are screaming and yelling that the hospital should be doing more for their families."

 

"He was talking about funding. How the killer's message was about funding." Dave made a face. "When I pointed out that the killer had targeted populations that weren't a priority in terms of funding right now, he ran out of the office. Five minutes later, Ken got attacked."

 

The deputies exchanged glances. "I'm sold," Poulsen told him, after a moment. "I am, but here's the thing."

 

The second cop stepped in. "It's not going to hold up in court. It's technically hearsay evidence." Dave could see his name tag now. This was Deputy Coughlin.

 

"I'm aware of that. That's why I hadn't said anything before. I can't do anything about it, so why bother?" He shook his head. "I know he had access to the Justice Center because he teaches down there. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine."

 

"What if we could get more than hearsay?" Poulsen's beady little eyes twinkled. "What if we could get proof?"

 

Energy surged through Dave. "You want me to wear a wire. Fine, good, I'll do it. Wire me up. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just—quickly, okay? As fast as you can. This guy has no care for human life."

 

They nodded and stepped silently out of the office.

 

They came back an hour later with a warrant and recording equipment. It had to be taped to Dave's body and he felt weird about letting someone who wasn't Ken touch him. "Relax, kid," Poulsen told him. "You're doing this for Kenny, right?"

 

They got the wire onto him and he put his clothes back on. They planned to have Tony come up to Ken's room and deliver some lab results. Cops disguised as nurses would be listening in from the nurse's station. They weren't thrilled about having extra bodies in the way, but Dave promised it was absolutely necessary. He didn't know if they bought it, but they stopped complaining.

 

He headed up to Ken's room. The glue that kept the microphone taped to his body itched. Later on, he'd go home and wash it off. He didn't want to leave Ken, not like this, but he'd made him a promise.

 

He took up a position next to Ken's bed and took his lover's hand. Ken was in one of his sleeping phases. He was sleeping more soundly than he had been, which was a good sign. That meant the antibiotics were doing their job and fighting that infection. It didn't feel great to see him like this, but he was still in better shape than he had been.

 

The intercom system went off, paging Tony Whalen to the fifth floor.

 

Dave's heart raced. This might not have been the best idea he'd ever had. He knew Tony was more than willing to attack people; to spray this poison right into their faces. What if he did that to Dave? Sure, Dave had been vaccinated. He would probably be fine. The gulf between "probably" and "definitely" felt insurmountable right about now.

 

The door swung open. Tony closed the door behind himself. It was a perfectly normal thing to do. The door had been closed when Tony came into the room, so Tony closed it behind him. There was no reason for him to do anything else. Still, when the latch clicked into place it sounded like the sealing of a tomb. "Hey, Tony. Got those lab results for me?"

 

Tony walked forward with the folders, lip curling. "I'm surprised to find you here. Are you really canoodling with him at a time like this?"

 

"It's hardly canoodling, Tony." Dave didn't have to fake his eye roll. "I'm holding his hand. That's all."

 

"Okay, but shouldn't you be, I don't know, working? Checking on your patients? Looking for a cure?"

 

Dave snorted. "You seem to think I've got a research facility tucked away in my back pocket. I don't. I'm just one doctor. I'm good at what I do, sure, but I can't work miracles. So yeah. If it helps me to go take a quiet moment with my boyfriend, who was violently attacked and put here by a sociopath, then yeah I'm going to do it."

 

Tony's jaw dropped. "I thought your issue with the person putting this bacteria out there was that he was choosing the dregs of society." He sat down in the other visitor chair, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion.

 

Dave's stomach turned. "I never said that. I pointed out that the killer was choosing people from people who weren't from the top of the administration's priority list. I might have pointed out that the killer probably doesn't think they're all that valuable to society either." He couldn't miss the way Tony flinched every time Dave referred to him as a killer.

 

"So now that the guy picks someone who's a little higher up the food chain you're just going to sit back and take it easy?" Tony's voice rose, both in volume and in pitch.

 

"Tony, I'm hardly taking it easy. First of all, every one of those patients gets the same level of care that Ken gets. Those children could go on to become President, or to start companies. You don't know. One of the kids' mothers just accepted a job here at Silver Oak in community outreach. Another got a job in Housekeeping. They're part of the Silver Oak family now. Still think they're throwaways?"

 

Tony waved a hand. "They're not like us. And that's okay, but there still needs to be more research. And why don't you have a research lab tucked away somewhere, huh? All those Stanek millions and what are you doing with them?"

 

Dave leaned back and laughed. "You're joking, right? Tony, they cut me off when I wouldn't help cover up their fraud, buddy. Even my grandfather cut me off when I testified against them. There are no 'Stanek Millions,' not for me. I've got my trust fund, but that's not enough to establish a research lab. I'm just me. A doctor, working as hard as I can."

 

"From what I can see, you're putting your feet up and waiting for the end." Tony scowled.

 

Dave narrowed his eyes at his student. "Hardly. I'm doing everything I can to stop these outbreaks. But Tony, I'm allowed to grieve. I'm allowed to be frightened. Ken is my boyfriend. More than that, he's the father of my children. Do you really think that shouldn't affect me? I should just go merrily about my way, checking antibiotics and amputating parts?"

 

"I think you should cure this disease!" Tony shouted. "If not you, then who? If you went back to your family, hat in hand, they would give you everything you needed to start up a research lab."

 

"No. No, they wouldn't. For one thing, they're in jail, Tony. They'd give me some license plates maybe. For another, I can't even contact them. I'm tired. I'm angry. I'd like to punch this guy right in the throat, for what he's done to Ken and to the family we were starting to build." He watched Tony carefully. "That's not really me, the whole throat-punching thing, but I've got to tell you it's super tempting right now."

 

"So don't just sit there and mope about it! Get off your ass and do something!" Tony sprang to his feet. "Help me force the CDC and the NIH to take meningitis seriously!" He stepped over to Dave's side. "It's not murder. Not if they get to the people in time. And if we stick to people no one will miss, then Doc, it's only going to make the world a better place."

 

Dave's mouth went dry. He'd known, of course. He wouldn't be wearing the wire if he didn't. Knowing and being confronted with the incontrovertible fact were two different things. "You? Oh my God, Tony."

 

"Oh, don't sit there and act all pure. You just said you wanted to punch someone in the throat. You're pregnant, right? That's what you meant by saying Deputy Ken here is the father of your children?"

 

Dave nodded.

 

"Then you're closer to understanding. You're not there yet, but you'll get there. There's nothing worse than losing a child, Doc. Nothing. You'd do exactly what I've done, if it meant getting them to cure this crap disease."

 

Dave closed his eyes and shook his head. "Tony." Where were the deputies? Shouldn't they be arresting him now? "Tony, you don't understand. There's already a cure for meningitis. It doesn't always take, but it exists. It's a naturally occurring bacteria. We can't eradicate it, not without eradicating people's mouths. I'm sorry, man. I can't understand the grief you must have gone through. But you're putting dozens, if not hundreds, of others through that same pain."

 

Tony's lip curled. "Science has always been willing to break an egg to make an omelet. If we have to do this, to make people sit up and take notice and finally do something about this disease, then that's what we have to do."

 

The door flew open and two young, muscular deputies burst into the room with their guns out. "Keep your hands where we can see them!" barked the first one. He aimed his gun at Tony's forehead.

 

"You're kidding. Really? You've got nothing on me. I'm an innocent man." He turned to face Dave. "Tell them, Doc. Tell them I haven't done anything."

 

"If I wouldn't lie for my own parents I'm not about to lie for you." Dave pressed his lips together.

 

The two deputies cuffed Tony and then they patted him down. They found two stoppered vials on him, as well as a spray bottle in his pocket.

 

Dave looked away as they led Tony out the door. He knew he'd dodged a bullet.

 

Poulsen and Coughlin came in to help him remove the wire. "You did good," Poulsen told him. "You did great, actually. Did you plan out what you were going to say ahead of time?"

 

Dave closed his eyes and winced as they pulled the tape away from his chest. "No. He'd already let enough spill, in our conversation from a couple of days ago. I knew he'd say what we wanted him to say eventually."

 

Coughlin averted his eyes and left the room. Poulsen stayed. "Did you mean all that stuff you said? Are you really having Kenny's baby?"

 

"We hadn't talked about announcing it yet, but yeah. We're apparently having twins." He looked down. He'd just refused to help someone else he was reasonably close to, someone else who looked on him as an ally at the very least. What did that say about the type of person he attracted?

 

"Huh. Well, congratulations. I know Kenny will be a great dad. His own old man wasn't shit, but what are you going to do? That just makes him want to be more careful about being one of the good guys, you know?" Poulsen put a hand on Dave's bare shoulder. "You feeling kind of down about what just happened?"

 

"Maybe a little." Dave glanced back at Ken's prone form. "I'm upset it was Tony. We had a decent relationship, for a professor and a student. I'm not at all bothered by helping to take him down. He's killed fifty something people and maimed a bunch more."

 

"Good man." Poulsen gave him a watery smile. "You and Ken will do well together."

 

Dave's chest itched where the glue had been, but he didn't go home and shower. Instead, he shrugged his way back into his shirt and sat back down beside Ken. He'd keep his promise once Ken woke up. Until then, his place was at Ken's side.

 

***

Ken woke up exhausted. He knew, on some level, that he'd been asleep for a long time. He could tell from his surroundings that he was in the hospital, but he didn't remember being admitted. He smelled bad. He'd probably been baking in his own sweat for who knew how long, and it showed.

 

"Glad to see those eyes of yours open, son." Mama's voice broke through the rhythmic beeping of some infernal monitoring device or other. Dave had tried to explain them all, but it had all gone in one ear and out the other. "How do you feel?"

 

"Like I need a long shower and a very fresh change of clothes." He paused, assessing his condition. "Is that a catheter?"

 

"You've been more or less asleep for four days, boy. What did you think they were going to do, leave you in your own waste?" Mama snorted. "Yeah, it's a catheter. Once they know you can stand on your own, they'll probably take it out." She reached out and took his hand. "My God, it's good to hear your real voice."

 

Ken forced himself to smile. It was good to see his mother and nice to know that she cared. Plenty of people didn't even have that from their families. Still, his mother wasn't the one he wanted to see right now. Where was Dave? Had Dave abandoned him when he needed him most?

 

Had Dave succumbed to the same illness Ken had, worn down by anxiety and exhaustion?

 

Mama could read his mind, just like she always could. "Relax, sweetheart. I chased Loverboy out of here a couple of hours ago. He does have a job to do, you know, and he can't do it if he smells like your hospital room." She smirked. "Besides, he's growing a person in there."

 

"Two people." Ken yawned. "He's growing two people in there."

 

"Huh. Well I'll be." Mama's eyes widened. "I wonder why he didn't say anything?"

 

"We hadn't made any announcements or anything." Ken fumbled for the button that would raise the head of his bed. "I need to make some calls. I've got a clue. It's the last thing I remember."

 

"A clue, huh?" Mama sat back and looked at him, a little smile playing around her lips. "Does it have anything to do with a med student named Tony Whalen?"

 

Ken's eyes bulged. "Wait—how do you know about that?"

 

"He was arrested yesterday, right here in this room. You, of course, were out like a little light." She shook her head. "It was a big deal. It's technically Poulsen's collar."

 

Ken pulled his head back and blinked. "They let Poulsen leave the office?"

 

"It was a big deal. He was willing to leave the bottle behind for you, Kenny." She smiled, maybe a little sadly. "Never underestimate the effect you have on people's lives. I wouldn't say he's feeling well right now, but he powered through it long enough to get the job done."

 

"How'd he do it, anyway?" Ken forced himself to relax against the weird-feeling mattress. He'd wanted the collar, but it was okay that he didn't get it. As long as the bastard got what was coming to him, he would be happy. "We didn't have any evidence that wasn't hearsay. How did Poulsen get a warrant for this guy?"

 

"It's only technically Poulsen's collar." Mama winked at him. "That boyfriend of yours is something else. He sat right here at your side and wore a wire. Got that dirtbag to confess, just looking him in the eye. Can you imagine? He just asked the right questions and got him to admit what he'd done. It's all legal. They had a warrant and everything. He had the spray bottle on him—" She broke off and covered her mouth with one hand. "My God, Kenny. He had the spray bottle on him."

 

Ken knew he should be afraid of that. He just couldn't understand, for the life of him, why. Everything after the time he finished that conversation with Arena was a blank. "That sounds terrifying."

 

Mama stared at him, eyes narrowed. Then she pressed the call button.

 

A nurse entered the room. Ken rolled his eyes and thumped his head back against the mattress.

 

"Mr. Sykora, it's good to see you awake! How are you doing?"

 

"Well, the catheter is kind of unpleasant."

 

Mama swatted him on the arm, but otherwise saved her attention for the nurse. "He can't remember the attack!"

 

The nurse's pretty face softened. "Well, that's not exactly unusual. He's just had an infection that affected his brain." She sat down on the edge of Ken's bed. "I'm sure it's scary to not be able to remember, but think of it like any other brain injury. Those memories might return, or they might not. Are those the only memories you seem to have lost?"

 

Ken squirmed. "As near as I can tell? I just woke up, I haven't had a chance to take a detailed inventory. I don't feel a lot of gaping holes, you know? I remember that my boyfriend is pregnant. I remember where he lives. I remember that this is my mom. I remember how to use a gun. Is there anything else I need to remember?"

 

The nurse laughed and stood up again. "You've definitely got a good attitude about this. I'll page the doctor and see if he can come evaluate your strength. Then we'll see about getting that catheter out. I'm sure it must be kind of unpleasant."

 

"Just a bit." Ken grimaced and waited for the nurse to leave. Then he turned to his mother. "So. You've met Dave."

 

"Hm. Yes, yes I did. I thought he was just adorable until he spoke. He's tough, Kenny." She sat back in her chair as her eyes focused on something far away. "I wouldn't have thought someone like him would be tough, or could be tough. But boy, did he ever prove otherwise. And Kenny?"

 

"Yeah, Ma?" He looked back up at the ceiling.

 

"He hasn't left your side, except to go deal with other patients. He's been so attentive, so devoted. It's made my heart hurt, to be honest. I could wish—well, never mind. Let's just say you deserve someone like that." She sniffed. "He's amazing. I like him. I approve of him too."

 

Ken considered pointing out that Mama had approved of Joel, but he decided he wasn't ready to pick that fight right now. "Thanks, Ma." He closed his eyes.

 

Dave appeared ten minutes later. He didn't waste time on pleasantries. He just wrapped his arms around Ken and held on tight, with his face buried at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. "I've missed you so much."

 

Ken held onto him for dear life. "For me, it's only been a few minutes." He huffed out a little laugh. "Last thing I remember is talking with that jerk Arena."

 

Dave sat down on the bed beside Ken. Only now did he acknowledge Mama, but Mama didn't seem to mind. She just smiled over at him. "Hi, sweetheart. You still haven't gone home, have you?"

 

Dave blushed. He took Ken's hand and didn't let go. "It's not home if he's not there." He ducked his head. "I know that sounds absurd, and kind of sappy. And so many things are still up in the air, but it's true. It's not home if you're not right there with me, Ken. I've been so scared this whole time." He cleared his throat and looked over at the monitors. "So it looks like your fever is down, which is good. How's your pain level?"

 

"It's there, I guess. I've got a headache. I'd rather not look too closely at the light, but I don't know. It could be worse, I guess." He swallowed. "Any chance of some water?"

 

"Sure." Dave reached out, dropping Ken's hand and grabbing a small plastic cup and a pitcher of water. "Take little sips. Let's see how well you're swallowing."

 

Ken took the small sips Dave requested, feeling absurd but doing what he was asked anyway. He might not remember it, but he knew he'd had a brush with death.

 

Then he pulled Dave back in for another hug. Just as Dave relaxed into the embrace, he whispered into his boyfriend's ear. "Catheter. Out. Now."

 

Dave stood up. "I'll grab some nurses. They're gentle souls." He stuck his head out the door, while Ken made an unsuccessful attempt not to blush.

 

It was not the only indignity Ken was to suffer in the hospital. He was not permitted, he found, to wear his own clothes. He got to wear a hospital johnny, so his doctors and nurses could have better "access." He wasn't sure what kind of access they needed, but he was pretty sure he didn't want any part of it. Nevertheless, they needed it, so they were going to get it.

 

A hospital had no privacy. Ken knew that, under the circumstances, he was extremely lucky to have a room to himself. Apparently these were rooms kept for celebrities, politicians and others whose right to privacy stood a higher chance of being violated than other people's. Law enforcement got put up there too, but that wasn't why Ken had gotten a room up there.

 

No, Dave had insisted. Dave had insisted he get a room reserved for the governor of the state, should he need it, and Dave had gotten it. It was kind of terrifying, to think his small, self-effacing partner could command that kind of authority.

 

None of that meant he got any more privacy than someone stuck in a room for three. Ken found he was very unsteady on his feet for the first couple of days into his recovery. He had to hold onto the wall when he took short walks up and down the hall, which he wasn't allowed to do by himself at all. And God forbid he try to pee without an audience. No, he had to keep the door open and a nurse always stood right outside the door.

 

That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that he sometimes needed that nurse just to get back to the bed.

 

But he recovered his strength, little by little. He'd been a healthy guy when all this got started, and that good health certainly counted in his favor. He managed to escape with no more complication than a minuscule gap in his memory too, which seemed nothing short of miraculous.

 

He knew, given how things were turning out for many patients, he was one of the lucky ones. He had no idea how he'd escaped serious complications, since there was no way to determine who would be affected by complications and who wouldn't. Part of his good fortune was down to the fact that they knew exactly when he'd been infected, so they could start treatment right away.

 

The rest was just good luck and, after some of the lousy luck he'd had over the years, he wasn't going to complain about it.

 

His strength returned, slowly but surely, and one week after the attack he was allowed to go home. He had to take leave from work, just as he would have had to do if he'd been shot or stabbed on duty, but that wasn't a problem. Since he'd been injured in the line of duty, he'd get paid either way and he wasn't missing out on finding the killer.

 

Once he was home with Dave, he could finally sit back and process everything that had happened. "You caught him," he marveled, as they sat and watched TV in the big comfy bed. It wasn't a power bed. It didn't move up and down. It did, however, contain a Dave. "How did you do it?"

 

"I was actually about to go and talk to you about the conversation I'd just had with him when he went to attack you." Dave blushed and looked away. "When your gin-smelling friend came to ask me about it, I didn't have the slightest problem saying yes. I wasn't scared. I was too angry to be scared."

 

"Why?" Ken blinked at him. "I mean the guy was willing to kill hundreds to do whatever he was trying to do. What would make you too angry to get scared?"

 

"Well, first of all, I love you. He hurt you. Yeah, I was mad." Dave ruffled Ken's hair. "Second, he'd just gotten done talking about how it was okay all of these 'throwaway' people died and got maimed if it made some mythical them research a cure. Never mind that there is a cure. So when I pointed out that the people who do fund those things wouldn't do it for those populations, because they're not priorities, he went after you."

 

Dave took a deep breath and then he went on. "Tony went after you for two reasons, Ken. He went after you because you're a cop, and a cop is always going to be a priority. And he went after you because of us." He folded those talented lips of his together and looked away. "Because you're mine, and he wanted to light a fire under me. He'd convinced himself that I could somehow access the 'Stanek millions,' if I just had the proper motivation. Ken, I am so sorry."

 

"Why?" Ken chuckled and pulled the blanket up over them. "You didn't make him do it. You didn't make him do anything."

 

"But he did it because of me. Because of my family. He hurt you, because of me."

 

"He hurt me because he's an ass. And he's a killer. We don't trust killers' motivations for things, Dave. It's like the first rule of police work." He wrapped his arms around Dave. "And screw your family anyway. We both know you can't access that money."

 

"No. Anything my parents stole, that they still had around and didn't spend, was given back in restitution. I might be able to get something out of my grandfather, if I dedicated twenty years of my life to hacking Swiss banks, but I'm not going to so here we are." He rubbed at his temples. "I think my time is better spent here, doing this, but I don't know. Maybe I should find a way back into his good graces and use his money for good—"

 

Ken put a finger on Dave's lips, and Dave fell silent. "You're perfect just the way you are, Dave. I don't want you to have to go back to a wretched family that didn't value you, and I don't want you to have to leave doing a job you love. Also, I want you right here with me when our babies are born and not in prison."

 

Dave relaxed. "You're not mad?"

 

Ken kissed him. "I'm not mad, babe. I love you, and we're together forever. Okay?"

 

"Okay." Dave rested his head on Ken's chest, right where it belonged.

 

Ken was truly home.