Chapter Text
"How long have you been standing there?" Joe asked.
He had just come round having just had surgery after he'd jumped off that quarry into the water. What he had come round to see, however, was Graham, stood by his bed; a concerned expression on his face.
"A while," came Graham's vague reply, "how are you feeling?"
"A bit rough," Joe admitted.
Graham shifted from one foot to another, still looking worried.
"I'll be fine, Graham," Joe added.
"I... know. I just... worry about you sometimes."
Graham had never felt this uncertain before; he was never open about his feelings. They were always locked in a box, one that was rarely opened. He knew that it was undeniable that he cared about Joe; it was obvious. He wouldn't stay with him through thick and thin if he didn't.
The extent of Graham's love for him, however, was something he kept secret. It was paternal, of course it was, but at the same time, his feelings for the young man had naturally tumbled into something else. They had become romantic. Sexual. And that's where the problem was because he knew that people wouldn't accept it. He didn't even accept it himself - not entirely, anway. But Joe was his rock and he had pieced him back together when he was broken, when he was just a shell of a man, going through life with nothing to live for. Joe had given him a reason to live and that reason was him. So Graham loved him. God, did he love him.
Joe was shocked; he had never expected to hear Graham sound uncertain, to hear him sound actually scared. Graham was always the strong one - the one who was certain of everything and the one who had been his rock since he was fifteen. Joe had always expected that he'd be completely unlovable, that he'd never find anyone to care about him, yet somehow, Graham cared. He truly cared.
Joe wondered why. He wondered whether Graham could possibly feel the same about him as he did about the older man.
It was Graham who broke the silence, shaking Joe out of his deep thoughts.
"You should get some rest. I can go home and get you some clothes, if you'd like?"
"Yes," Joe said, clearing his throat, "that'd be great. Thank you, Graham."
Graham nodded as he turned to leave. Before exiting the room, he added,
"Oh, and when they discharge you, I'm coming to pick you up."
Joe opened his mouth to protest but Graham shut him down with two words.
"No arguments."
"Okay, fine. Thank you."
"Mmmm," was Graham's only reply, before he left Joe's room.
On his way out, he spoke to a couple of nurses to check that Joe really was going to be okay and to thank them for what they'd done.
When he reached his car, he sat in it for a few minutes, attempting to calm himself down.
'Only Joe would jump off a fucking quarry to impress his half brother,' Graham thought - his way of trying to be angry at Joe instead of being terrified of what could've happened.
Rubbing a hand over his face, his turned the ignition of the car and headed back to Home Farm.
Joe watched Graham's car pull out of the car park from the window of his hospital room. Biting his lip, he walked back to his bed.
He wished that Graham had stayed for longer, that they'd just been able to have a normal conversation like they could when they were at home, just the two of them.
Joe understood it, though. He knew that Graham struggled to talk to him when there was something on his mind and he didn't blame him for it.
As this thought crossed his mind, Debbie walked into his room.