My first (and so far only story) of Drew and Rick from the Night shift is still being read and favoured, which makes me very happy. I just finished watching their story line in the second season and got inspired for a new story. I hope you all like it! Please let me know!

This story starts when Rick is offered a job in South Carolina.

Drew's POV

"I would have to move to South Carolina."

The sheer happiness I was feeling only a second ago is gone instantly and is replaced with a sudden fear. My eyes are locked onto his as if I can pull his thoughts away from him before he can say them out loud. But where I usually can read his thoughts in his eyes, right now I am not sure whether he is happy or whether he is a frightened as I am. He clears his throat and says softly:

"It is a great opportunity…"

I try to think of what to say to that. I don't want to hurt his feelings or make him feel as if I am not proud of him, because I am so very proud of him. But South Carolina is just so far away and the thought of him being all the way over there while I am here on my own makes it difficult to breathe. He fills the silence by finishing his own sentence:

"I guess."

"Yeah, yeah… it's great."

My voice is not my own and I try to flash him a smile, but I know I have never been able to hide my feelings from him. From when I first saw him during one of our army boot camps until this very moment he has been able to see right through me. His hand comes up to cup my face and for a reason I don't quite understand, I don't let him. Instead I quickly grab his wrist and push it down, forcing myself to only see the positive side while ignoring the negative. I say fiercely:

"I mean it Rick, this is great. This is a promotion and making the first 1 percent is a great achievement. And today we should just celebrate."

He smiles at me and nods:

"We should, but this is a big decision."

"I know, but you don't have to make it today."

"We."

"What?"

"We have to make a decision, I am not going to decide about this on my own."

I look at him, the man I fell in love with years ago and whom I have never loved more than I do now. I let go of his wrist and put my bag on the floor next to my feet. I take one more step forwards to close the gap between us and then I cup his face with both my hands:

"I want you to do what makes you happy. I don't want to stand in the way of anything you want to do or achieve in your life. This is your choice and whatever you decide I will respect it…"

He bites his bottom lip and I softly stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. Then I lean forward and kiss him on his lips, enjoying how he immediately kisses me back. When we let go I lean my forehead against his and while his fingers fold around my wrists I mumble softly:

"I love you."

"Love you too."

With a sigh I let him go and grab my bag. In silence we walk to the car, no longer occupied with looking at new housing. Without saying a word we drive home and when he starts making something to eat, I decide to take a shower. Soon I feel the water wash down my body and for just a moment I let myself be scared. I let myself feel the fear of having to come home alone, make my own meals, and sleep in an empty bed after a long Skype call with the man I love unreachable on my computer screen. I take a few deep breaths, suddenly thinking about that perfect moment when he came back to me, only a few weeks ago:

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

I could recognise his voice anywhere and everywhere. It instantly makes me feel at home as if my heart falls into place. While I am in the middle of a storm of attention and heroism, I now realise how much I missed him. All this time I told myself over and over again he was the one who wanted to leave, and that if that was what he wanted I should let him go. I told myself I cannot force him to stay with me or love me and that perhaps this was all for the better. And I guess I was starting to believe myself, but just the sound of his voice is enough for me to know that I was just trying not to drown in heart break. I have missed him terribly and no one will ever understand how much I need him right now. I turn around and feel how my heart skips a beat as he is standing there looking strong and handsome. I feel a lump in my throat and all I can say is:

"Rick."

I have to swallow hard and grit my teeth to hold myself together. It is funny how you can keep up a strong exterior for everyone else, but for that one special person you just cannot pretend to be anything other than who you are in each moment. It is like the mask you have been wearing just dissolves the moment they see you and you see them. There is nothing left but you, your soul naked and open as they seem to look straight through you. I need all my energy to keep myself together.

"So you recognise me, that is a good start."

I am not really listening to what he says. I see his lips moving and I hear the sound of his voice, but for some reason my brain is turning into a useless mush.

"Yeah."

I turn around to grab my notes, trying to compose myself while telling myself not to get my hopes up. That he is probably here for something else and he just decided to see how I am while he was driving past the hospital. I gesture for him to follow me and say:

"Let me just find someone to cover for me."

While the water finds its way down my skin I can't help but smile when I think about how he told me he wanted to be with me. How he had cupped my face between his hands as if he was holding something that was dearer to him than anything else in this world. How the touch of his fingers on my skin lingered that whole shift as his words kept echoing in my mind. And now here we are, out and proud, very much together. At least that was what I thought until that phone call just about an hour ago. I still think it is his decision, and I will respect whatever he decides, but I cannot ignore the constant sting in my heart that tells me how much I wish he would stay here with me.

"Drew?"

The bathroom door opens and I have to stop my thoughts.

"Yeah."

"You OK?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

I hear some ruffling sounds that tell me he is undressing, and then the shower cabin door opens and he steps in. He turns me towards him while wrapping his arms around me:

"Because you normally take about five minutes in the shower, and now you have already been here for over ten minutes."

I lean against him, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine:

"I was just thinking…"

He kisses my shoulder and sighs:

"Me too."

""Rick…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so proud of you."

"I know."

I suddenly pull him in even closer and I am sure it must be a bit painful for him the way I squeeze him against me. I am not someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, who has a way with words to express his deepest feelings. There are a million things I want to tell him, but instead I just hold him painfully close, hoping he will just know what I mean by that. And by the way he strokes my back and whispers a soft 'I love you' against my wet skin, I know he understands.

(…)

I try to focus on my patients, but I struggle with that tonight. I feel more and more powerless as I am awaiting Rick's decision. One moment I feel confident he will stay with me and then suddenly I am sure he will be gone in a few days. I sign the records of my third patient today and as I put the paperwork away I feel like I can't breathe. The words 'move to South Carolina' are running through my mind, becoming louder and louder, until it is all I can hear. I soon find myself in the locker room, the place I usually go to because I can hit the lockers, or pull over the coat stand without hurting anyone. The moment the door opens I shouldn't be surprised when I see Kenny standing there. He is one of my best friends and he has already looked at me a few times this evening as if he knew my mind was not really here.

"You OK, man?"

"What do you think?"

I just don't have the energy right now to be nice to anyone, not even to Kenny. He just closes the door though, and doesn't seem fazed at all:

"I think you need to tell me what is wrong."

"And what good is that going to do."

I sit down on the floor and he sits down next to me:

"Hey man, remember the story I came up with about the oxygen on the plane? I think it is time for you to put your own oxygen on before you start saving all these patients that come through the door tonight."

I smile, thankful to have a friend like Kenny, who always seems to know what to say:

"So are you some sort of expert now?"

"I am with one of my best friends."

"Rick is leaving."

"What?"

"Well, he might be, they offered him a job in South Carolina. And it is too good to give up really, so…"

"Oh man… are you sure?"

I just shrug:

"I can't really do anything, I can't help him and I can't talk to him the way I want to talk to him."

"Why not."

"Because it is his decision, I don't want him to give up something that he wants to do."

I feel how Kenny looks at me and then he shakes his head:

"This sucks, but Rick loves you, man."

I sigh and can't help but smile. But soon I whisper:

"I hope it is enough though."

"Wow man, you have got to chill. He jumped on a plane to be with you, didn't he? He came back not so long ago, so perhaps you just have to have a little faith. And did you tell him you want him to stay?"

"He knows."

I know he is frowning next to me and this time I look straight back at him. I remember how I held Rick in the shower and the way he had whispered in my ear and I say without any doubt:

"He does."

"Then have some faith, man."

My phone beeps and I pull it out of my pocket. I smile when I read the text and softly read it out to Kenny:

'Going to sleep, miss you, see you in the morning.'

With a smile Kenny stands up while he gives me friendly pat on my back. As he reaches for the door he says:

"I have a patient for you… curtain four."

I nod and push myself up from the floor:

"I'll be right there."

Rick's POV

It has been a week since I got that important phone call, and also a week since we spoke about it. I remember very clearly, how after our shower, Drew asked me if we could just not talk about it. How he wanted it to be my decision and that he loved me. I know he does. I see it every time he looks at me, every time his face lights up when his eyes find mine, every time he holds my hand, and every time he kisses me without hesitation. I look at him sleeping next to me. His face relaxed, but still strong and fierce. His body naked and well defined, showing the result of very regular work outs and years of army training. I turn on my side so I can just look at him, knowing from his breathing he is still very fast asleep. I can't resist it and softly stroke his cheek with my thumb, smiling when he doesn't even flinch because he is just so used to my touch. My fingers slowly trace down is arms and then softly find their way down his chest until my hand finds its place on his heart, feeling each and every beat. And while I enjoy the moment I know I have made my decision. And not just that one, I have made a few more all at the same time. I smile and have to swallow a few times to push away the lump that is suddenly in my throat. While the sunlight through the curtains becomes stronger and stronger I just enjoy the perfect silence, and the intense feeling of being so close to the person I love more than anything. He wakes up, blinking and stretching, slowly becoming aware of the surroundings. He will probably kill me when I would tell him this, which is why I won't, but he is cute when he wakes up. His eyes find mine and he says with a groggy morning voice:

"Hi."

I lift my hand from his chest and cup his face:

"Morning handsome."

"What time is it?"

I quickly glance at the alarm clock:

"Nine."

He sighs and stretches again, only to relax while curling his arms around me and pulling me close to him. His breath warms my ear as he whispers:

"We have all day, you know. My shift starts at 8 tonight, and until then this is all I want to do."

His lips slowly make a trail of kisses along my jaw, down my neck and my chest. I smile happily, enjoying the feeling of his back muscles moving under my fingers. His hands softly trace my skin and I know what he will do next. I does it every time we make love, and every time it makes my heart swell and my eyes teary. His fingers touch my stump as if it is the best part of me. The way he caresses it makes me feel like I am everything to him just the way I am. His lips kiss the scar and then he comes up until he can hold my face between his hands and kiss my emotions away. He smiles tenderly, and I am surprised again how a guy who looks to tough and strong on the outside can be so soft and tender when making love to me. And as we make love he always whispers the same words:

"You're perfect."

(…)

He walks into the room, his bag hanging loosely over his shoulder. I quickly close my laptop and smile, hoping he didn't see what I was doing. He leans down and kisses me:

"I'll see you in the morning."

I nod:

"Have a good shift."

And then he is out of the door, off to do another busy night shift, and I can continue what I have been busy with all day. I print off the contract for my new job here in Texas, sign them, scan them in and return them to my new boss. Then I sent an email to decline the job in South Carolina, and I smile happily when I realise how good it feels to do all this. And then I book a hotel in Santa Fe, just before I start packing our bags. Around eleven I curl up in our bed that seems so empty and big compared to this morning when he was next to me to keep me warm. I grab my phone and sent him a text:

'I hope your shift it OK. I love you, see you in the morning.'

It only takes a few minutes to receive my reply:

'Sleep tight, love you.'

With a sigh I reach out to the chair where one of Drew's shirts is hanging over the back of the seat. I quickly slip into it and when I put my head on his pillow I soon fall asleep.

The alarm clock wakes me early, but I am immediately awake. I sit up straight and take a deep breath, suddenly realising I am a bit nervous. I put my leg on and get dressed, continuously checking the time. His shift finishes at 8 this morning, so I should leave the apartment around 7.30. I try to have some breakfast, but more than an apple isn't possible. Yesterday I was so sure he was going to say yes, but now I am suddenly nervous. My phone tells me I have a text message:

'Good morning, hope you slept well, I'll be home in about an hour.'

I smile and push my phone in my pocket while grabbing the two overnight bags. When I arrive at the hospital I sit myself down on one of the little benches near the entrance. The sun is already shining bright and I tell myself that must be a good sign. I feel my hands are getting sweaty and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. And then he is there, looking all handsome despite just working a whole night shift.

"Hey."

He smiles his familiar happy smile that he reserves only for me.

"Hey, nice surprise."

I feel the butterflies in my stomach when he kisses my cheek and just seems so happy to see me here. I pull back, knowing I have to do this now and shouldn't delay it any further:

"Um, look I didn't want to tell you on the phone, um, about me taking the job."

I feel the disappointment coming from him as he needs a few moments to eventually say:

"So you are going."

He isn't even trying to hide the sadness in his voice and I am no longer nervous. I suddenly remember how he held me under the shower that day of the phone call. As if he never wanted to let me go. And I can't help but smile a little but when I say:

"No, I am not taking the job in South Carolina, I found a job here training SWAT teams estate police."

The look in his eyes is everything, but it only takes a few moments for it to change and I know what is coming. I know him better than he knows himself, and he always thinks about others before he thinks about himself, and this time is no different:

"That is great."

I just look at him, knowing what he will say next:

"But I don't want you to give up that other job because of me."

I don't hesitate:

"I am giving it up because of us."

His stare shows me how vulnerable he is right now. He may be strong and confident everywhere else, but with me it is different. So I just continue:

"When I came back to you, I made a commitment. My job isn't important, this is what matters."

I reach out to grab his hand, holding it tightly between mine. And just for a second I realise how hard we have worked, and how many barriers we have overcome to stand here holding hands near the entrance of a busy hospital.

"You matter. I love you and I want to be with you here."

He is so open now in front of me. I can see right through him knowing that his response is from the bottom of his heart:

"I want that too."

I know this is the moment to go for it. But I wait a bit too long and he suddenly says:

"What are we waiting for, let's just do it."

I frown and ask:

"Do what?"

"Get married."

I don't believe this guy. It took me all day yesterday to get all this planned and he just stole my question. I let go of his hand and can't help but laugh as I realise he beat me to it. He immediately shoves his hand in his pocket and the insecurity radiates from him as I giggle, leaving him answerless after he just asked the most important question of all time.

"What?"

He has no idea why I am like this. He doesn't know about the hotel booking, the sweaty hands, the deep breaths, and the nerves I felt only about ten minutes ago. I let out a breath and explain:

"I was actually going to ask you. I packed the bags and made a hotel reservation, we can be in Santa Fe tonight."

I just smile watching him realise that my explanation is not just an explanation, but also an answer to his question.

"You…"

The realisation on his face is priceless and perfect and I just smile:

"Yeah."

I take a step forward to take away the space between us and feel how his hands hold my face as we kiss while swaying in the air. His eyes are like stars and his smile is brighter than the sun shining down on us. We laugh like teenagers and then we let go. I give him the keys to the car and hear him say:

"You were pretty sure I was going to say yeah, huh?"

"Yeah I was pretty sure."

"I think some things are going to change, clearly I am becoming way too predictable."

I reach for my seatbelt and realise I cannot stop smiling:

"Well, that is what married life is all about right?"

The way he look at me tells me he is just as happy as I am, and his words hold the most perfect promise I have ever heard:

"We will find out."

As he drives away I put my hand on his thigh, squeezing softly. He immediately grabs my hand, holding it tightly in his. With his eyes focused on the road he asks softly:

"Sure this is what you want?"

I wait until he has a moment to look away from the traffic and to find my eyes with his, and then I nod:

"Remember the night I came back? I meant what I said, you know…"

He raises his eyebrows and I remind him:

"I need you in my life."

He swallows and squeezed my hand before he says with a lump in his throat:

"I need you more."

Thanks for reading the story and please let me know what you think!