Marcus woke up slowly, his head still heavy with the remnants of sleep and medication. The hospital room was quiet, filled only with the soft beeping of monitors and the distant sound of footsteps in the hallway outside.
He blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from his mind, and turned his head to the side. The spot on the bed where Ryan had been sitting last night was empty now. For a moment, Marcus felt a sharp pang of disappointment, like something warm had been pulled away from him. He'd half expected, maybe even hoped, to wake up and find Ryan still there, maybe dozing off with his head resting on the mattress.
But Ryan was gone.
Marcus pushed himself up slightly, wincing at the dull ache that spread through his ribs and the throbbing in his head. His body protested the movement, reminding him that he'd been in a car accident less than forty-eight hours ago. Everything still hurt in ways that made simple actions feel painful.
That's when he noticed the note on the bedside table.
It was folded once, sitting under a half-empty water bottle. Marcus reached for it carefully, his fingers still a little clumsy from the medication. He unfolded the paper and saw handwriting he didn't recognize, neat but slightly rushed.
*Had to go to work, I'll check on you later. Rest. Please.*
There was no name, but Marcus knew it was from Ryan. The words were simple, almost businesslike, but there was something about the "please" at the end that made his chest tighten. He could almost hear Ryan's voice saying it, that quiet concern that had been in his eyes last night when Marcus had asked him for a hug.
Marcus read the note twice, then carefully folded it again and set it back down on the table. At the bottom of the note, just below the main message, Marcus noticed a small scrawl he'd missed at first. Just one word.
*Ryan.*
Marcus stared at that name for a long moment, something warm spreading through his chest despite the ache in his body. He felt both disappointed and relieved at the same time. Disappointed because he'd wanted to see Ryan this morning, to talk to him without the weight of exhaustion and pain clouding everything. Relieved because he wasn't sure what he would have said if Ryan had been there. Things between them felt fragile right now, like they were standing on the edge of something important but neither of them knew quite how to step forward.
He set the note back down and leaned against the raised bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind drifted back to the night of the accident, Marcus tried to think of any reason someone could have targeted him, going through every possibility in his mind even though most of them didn't make much sense.
He wasn't naive enough to believe it was just a random accident, not after the way that SUV that had been following him so closely before the crash drove past him while looking at him, like they had been waiting for the right moment.
But even knowing that someone had done this on purpose, he couldn't figure out who would want to hurt him or what they would gain from it.
The only answer that made sense, the only thing that connected to anything remotely dangerous in his life, was his uncle. Logan's disappearance. The investigation Marcus had been quietly conducting for weeks now. Maybe the people who had taken Logan, or whoever was responsible for his uncle going missing, wanted to get rid of Marcus too. Maybe they saw him as a threat, after finding out that he was searching.
The thought made Marcus's stomach twist with dread. If that was true, then it meant his uncle might still be alive somewhere, held by people dangerous enough to arrange a car accident just to silence Marcus. Or worse, it meant Logan was already dead, and these people were tying up loose ends.
Marcus couldn't shake the fear that crept in with that thought. He didn't know which possibility scared him more. The idea that his uncle was suffering somewhere, or the idea that he was already gone and Marcus would never get the chance to see him again.
He needed answers. He needed to know what was really happening.
Marcus reached for his phone on the bedside table, wincing again as the movement pulled at his sore muscles. He unlocked the screen and opened his email, scrolling until he found the contact he was looking for. The person he'd hired weeks ago to help him investigate Logan's disappearance. They'd been quiet lately, not much progress to report, but Marcus needed to know if anything had changed.
He typed out a message quickly, his thumbs moving across the screen with more urgency than precision.
*Any updates? I was in an accident two nights ago. I think it might be connected. Please let me know if you've found anything new.*
Marcus read it over once, then hit send before he could second guess himself. The message disappeared into his outbox, and all he could do now was wait.
He set the phone down and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the anxiety that was building in his chest. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control, like pieces of his life were shifting in ways he couldn't predict or manage.
The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts. A nurse walked in, clipboard in hand, her expression calm and professional.
"Good morning, Mr. Jensen," she said, glancing at the monitors. "How are you feeling today?"
"Sore," Marcus admitted. "But better than yesterday."
She nodded and checked his vitals, making notes on her clipboard. "The doctor will be in shortly to go over your discharge instructions. You're being released this afternoon."
Marcus felt a wave of relief. He wanted to go home, to be in his own space where he could think clearly without the constant beeping of hospital machinery and the sterile smell of antiseptic.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
The nurse smiled and left, and Marcus was alone again with his thoughts.
By the time the doctor came in later that morning, Marcus was already dressed in the clothes Ethan had brought for him the day before. The doctor went through the discharge paperwork, explaining that Marcus had a mild concussion and some bruising, but nothing that wouldn't heal with rest. He emphasized that Marcus should avoid any strenuous activity for at least a week, no heavy lifting, no intense exercise, and definitely no driving until he felt completely steady.
Marcus nodded along, agreeing to everything even though part of him was already planning to get back to work as soon as possible. He couldn't afford to sit still, not with everything that was happening.
Ethan arrived just after noon to pick him up. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, waiting, when Ethan walked in with a relieved smile.
"Ready to get out of here?" Ethan asked.
"More than ready," Marcus said, standing up slowly. His body ached in protest, but he ignored it.
Ethan helped him gather his things, the clothes he'd been wearing during the accident, his phone, his wallet, and they made their way down to the parking garage. The walk was slow, Marcus moving carefully to avoid aggravating his injuries, and Ethan stayed close beside him the entire time.
When they finally reached Ethan's car and got inside, Marcus let out a long breath, sinking into the passenger seat. The simple act of sitting in a normal car seat instead of a hospital bed felt like a luxury.
Ethan started the engine and pulled out of the parking garage, navigating through the afternoon traffic with practiced ease. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The radio played softly in the background, some pop song Marcus didn't recognize.
Then Ethan glanced over at Marcus, his expression a little uncertain.
"Do you feel bad that I called Ryan?" Ethan asked. The question came out quickly, like he'd been holding it in for a while. "I know you said you didn't want to worry him, and I went ahead and did it anyway. I just thought he should know."
Marcus turned his head to look at him, surprised by the concern in Ethan's voice. "What? No. Why would I feel bad about that?"
"I just wasn't sure if you'd be upset about it," Ethan said, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. "You already told me you didn't want him to worry, right? And then I went and called him anyway. I'm sorry..."
Marcus shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite everything. "I'm not upset, Ethan. Actually, I'm happy you did it."
Ethan looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"Really," Marcus confirmed. "I was so glad he came. I didn't realize how much I wanted to see him until he was there."
Ethan's expression softened, and he let out a small laugh. "Okay, good. I was worried I'd messed things up between you two."
"You didn't mess anything up," Marcus said quietly. "If anything, you did the opposite."
They drove in comfortable silence for a while after that, the city passing by outside the windows. Marcus watched the buildings blur together, his mind drifting back to Ryan, to the way he'd looked sitting beside him on the hospital bed last night, to the warmth of his hand on Marcus's.
When they finally pulled up in front of Marcus's apartment building, Ethan helped him out of the car and walked him to the door.
"You sure you're okay to be alone?" Ethan asked, concern still clear in his voice. "I can stay for a bit if you want."
"I'm fine," Marcus assured him. "I just need to rest. Thank you for everything, Ethan. Really."
Ethan nodded, giving Marcus a quick hug before heading back to his car. Marcus watched him drive off, then turned and made his way inside.
The apartment felt quiet and empty when he stepped through the door. Marcus locked it behind him and stood there for a moment, just taking in the familiar space. Everything looked the same as it had two days ago, but somehow it felt different. Like the world had shifted just slightly, and nothing was quite where it used to be.
He dropped his bag by the door and walked slowly to the couch, sinking down onto it with a tired sigh. His body ached, his head still throbbed faintly, and exhaustion was creeping in at the edges despite having done nothing but rest for the past two days.
Marcus pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment, thinking. Then, before he could overthink it, he typed out a message to Ryan.
*I got discharged. I'm home now.*
He hit send and set the phone down on the coffee table, not expecting an immediate response. Ryan was probably at work, busy with the lunch rush or whatever servers did during the day.
But the reply came faster than Marcus expected. His phone vibrated less than five minutes later.
Marcus picked it up and read the message.
*Send me your address.*
Marcus's heart did something complicated in his chest. He stared at the words, reading them twice to make sure he'd understood correctly. Ryan wanted to know where he lived.
Ryan wanted to come over.
Marcus typed out his address and sent it without letting himself think
too much about what it meant. His pulse quickened slightly as he watched the message deliver.
Ryan was coming to his house!