Jensen exhaled slowly as he relaxed back against the wheel and looked out across the ocean. It felt good to get away from everything, where he didn't have to think and be on display all of the time. Jared thrived on it, and was always happy to cover for him. Of course when he had announced that he was going to spend a week on his yacht, doing his absolute best to get away from the rest of the world, Jared had pouted at him, but told him that it looked like he needed it.
He didn't want to know what that meant. But Jared had let him go with only a minimal amount of pouting, so that was good at the least.
Jensen gave the wheel a lazy turn and headed for Vancouver Island. It wasn't that far from the mainland and maybe he could dock and find some place to hole up in for a few days so Jared didn't make fun of him for doing nothing but sit on his boat for a week.
Unfortunately, he wasn't expecting the storm that snuck up and over the water. Jensen struggled to control the boat as he was battered by higher and higher waves, shivering hard. He hadn't brought the clothing to be able to handle the cold like this.
Jensen made for a nearby cove, because at the very least he should be able to beach the boat and find cover.
The last thing he saw was a large wave coming up on his port side before it hit the deck and everything went black.
Misha blinked and stared at West who was bouncing impatiently at the side of the bed. "Yeah? What's wrong?" A loud clap of thunder sounded overhead and Misha looked up, giving a whistle. Damn. Thunderstorms, of course. "Scared of the storm?"
"No, Dad! There's a man outside on the beach!"
Misha opened his mouth to respond and blinked again. "On the beach? Is he surfing? Some people like to surf during storms," he said, flipping the blankets off before standing up and rubbing his hand through his hair. West immediately grabbed his hand and began tugging.
"He's not surfing, he's on the beach, Dad, and I think he's hurt!" West said, pulling harder on Misha's hand.
Misha moved a little quicker and let West pull him towards the sliding glass door window where you could see the beach. "I don't-" A lightning flash a moment later illuminated the man who it looked like had washed up on the beach and Misha froze.
He knelt down in front of West. "West, can you do something for me?"
West nodded, biting down on his lip.
"I need you to go check on Maison and make sure she's okay. Then I need you to go get all of the blankets out of the spare closet and put them in my room. Can you do that for me?" Misha asked.
"Yes," West said, nodding again as he headed for Maison's room.
Misha ran back to his room and shoved his feet into the first pair of shoes he saw and grabbed a hoodie before running out and onto his porch, hurrying down the steps to the cove.
It took a minute of running on the hard, wet sand before he reached the man laying face down. Misha slid to a stop next to him and flipped the guy over, pressing his fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. A faint one fluttered under his fingers.
"You're a lucky bastard," he muttered, immediately helping the guy turn onto his side when he started to cough up water. A wave hit his shoes and Misha looked out at the water. "Come on, we've got to get you inside and warm." Blue was not a good look on the human skin and this was no exception to that rule.
Misha knelt down and picked the guy up, grunting until he managed to catch his balance and head back to the house. The storm was still picking up speed. He'd need to turn on the wood stove in case they lost heating tonight.
West opened the door for him and Misha panted out a thank you as he headed for his bedroom.
"Can I help?" West called. "I put the blankets on the bed, Dad."
"Thanks," Misha said, heading into the bathroom. "But is your sister still sleeping?"
"Yeah, Dad. Is he gonna be okay?"
"If I have anything to say about it he will be," Misha said, carrying the other man into the bathroom, putting him down into the tub. He immediately turned on the hot shower and started to strip him. Another thought occurred and he looked over his shoulder at West.
"You saved his life. Make sure he knows that when you wake up. I bet you can bribe him to buy you at least two toys," Misha said, winking at West.
West grinned and nodded. "Okay, Dad. Do you need more help?"
Misha pulled off the last of the guy's wet clothing and checked for a pulse and his slow breathing before he shook his head. "I should be good. I need to get him warm, more than anything else. The water is freezing this time of year."
He was relieved when West decided he didn't need to ask anymore questions and headed back into the living room. He turned his attention back to Mr. Looking-A-Little-Less-Blue and turned the shower off, and turned the bath on. While the tub was filling up, he frowned when he noticed a small trail of red leaking into the tub.
Misha reached out and carefully examined Mr. Blue's hair and pulled his fingers away when the man under him groaned and twisted away from him. "Looks like you hit your head on top of nearly drowning. Man, you are batting one thousand today, aren't you?"
He stood up and grabbed the first aid kit, grabbing gauze before he started dabbing carefully at the wound. Great, he'd have to make sure that he dragged this guy to the hospital tomorrow. Misha pushed his hair off his face and stripped off his wet clothes, leaving them in a pile in the bathroom. He could deal with them later. He had more pressing problems at the moment.
By the time the tub was finished filling, the guy was breathing easier and the last of the blue was fading from his face. Misha sank to his knees next to him and relaxed a little. For the first time he let himself look at the other guy and he gave a low whistle as he admired him. "Well, well. I'm sure that someone is going to be looking for you Mr. Handsome."
The guy didn't have anything to say, and after a few more minutes, Misha turned the water off and let it drain from the tub before he picked up the guy and got him dried off, dressed in boxers and a tshirt and laying in his bed. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt for himself before he turned back to Mr. Handsome. Misha got him tucked in under the extra blankets West had brought him and decided that was all he could do for tonight until they could go to the hospital tomorrow.
He flopped down next to him and opened an eye at the sound in the doorway. Misha managed a smile for West. "Everything okay bud?"
West shook his head. "Maison is awake, she's scared of the thunder."
Misha breathed out, long and slow. When it rained it poured. "All right. Want to come with me?" he asked, holding out his hand for West.
"Yeah," West said, giving his hand a squeeze.
Misha smiled and let West lead the way to Maison's room, where she was standing up in her crib, tears tracking slowly down her face as the thunder sounded behind them. "Well hello beautiful. I heard that you were looking for me?"
Maison held out her hands immediately. "Daddy!"
Misha smiled and picked her up, rocking her into his arms as he sank into the rocking chair by her crib. "Yup, I'm right here and I'll protect you from the big bad storm, I promise," he said, closing his eyes. West moved closer and Misha opened an eye, patting his other knee. "Come on, I know you want to climb on me."
West gave him a bright grin and clambered into his lap.
Misha hugged the both of them tight and let his head fall back against the chair as he rocked them slowly, humming to them over the noise of the storm. It didn't take long for the both of them to doze off, and Misha carefully tucked Maison and West back into bed, and that their doors were open in case he needed to hear any of them calling for him.
He headed back to his bedroom and yawned, taking a long look at Mr. Handsome before he flopped into the bed. After running on the beach, and then carrying all of Mr. Handsome's dead weight up the beach, he was reach to crash. Misha was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
He woke up to the sound of a groan and immediately shot up in bed, wincing at the bright sunlight flooding into his bedroom. Right. That was probably disturbing for Mr. Handsome. "Hold on, I'll get the light," Misha mumbled, climbing out of bed and heading over to the window to shut the blinds.
The room was plunged into darkness a few seconds later and Misha groaned happily. Now if he could only get a few minutes more of sleep...
His alarm flipped to six am and began blaring. Misha walked over and turned it off, looking up at the ceiling. "What the hell did I do, come on?" he muttered, padding into the kitchen. He turned on his coffee machine and went into West's room. Looked like he was still sleeping peacefully. Good.
Well, he wasn't about to go for a run with Mr. Handsome in the house, but he was awake enough that he wasn't going to fall back asleep either. Misha debated what to do and then decided that pancakes for breakfast would be a good treat for a Tuesday. Why not.
He grabbed the ingredients he needed and started mixing everything together as the sun finished rising. He kept an eye on the clock and when it hit seven, Misha went over to West's room and nudged him awake. "If you hurry up, I might even save some of the pancakes for you," he called.
Misha grinned when that got West out of bed in a hurry. Maison gave a cry in the other room and he turned and went to go get her out of the crib. He got her changed and dressed and brought her out to the kitchen so he could finish the pancakes.
He got West and Maison set up with pancakes and syrup and focused on packing their lunches before he thought to go check on Mr. Handsome. Misha peeked into his room quickly and was glad to see that he was still breathing, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
"Is he okay?" West asked, spearing another bit of pancake before he shoved it into his mouth. "Or is he gonna die?"
Misha choked on his next sip of coffee. "Of course he's not going to die, West!"
West broke into giggles and Misha rolled his eyes. Not that he'd ever had any doubts, but West was absolutely his kid. Little shit. "Come on, go brush your teeth, I need to finish getting Maison ready, then I'm going to get you all to school and take our guest over to the hospital."
West stuck his tongue out, but finished off his orange juice and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Misha helped Maison finish up and then cleaned up breakfast and took her to brush her teeth as well.
West was holding both of their lunches when he finished. Misha nodded at him. "Good. I'm just going to let our guest know that we're dropping you two off at school and then I'll be back for him."
Misha slipped back over to the bedroom and opened it. A groan from the bed made him frown. "Hey, just to let you know, if you are anything resembling coherent, I'll be back in twenty. Don't die before I get back, okay? I'd hate to have to bury a body."
Misha got the kids dropped off at school and daycare as fast as he could and made it back to his house in twenty one minutes. He headed straight for his bedroom and relaxed when he saw Mr. Handsome was still breathing. Well, that was one thing at least. "All right, let's get you to a hospital and checked out."
There was no reply from him, not that Misha had expected one. He went over and started lifting the extra blankets off of Mr. Handsome and got him sitting. Green eyes squinted at him before they drifted shut and he started to sway. "Woah, woah, hold on, we need to get you to my car so we can get you checked out," Misha said, shifting so he could wrap one of Mr. Handsome's arms around his shoulder.
He managed to shuffle them both out to the car and got Mr. Handsome into the front seat and buckled him before heading for the local hospital. By the time he got there, he could tell that his passenger was at the very least sporting a fever to go along with that concussion of his.
By the time Misha pulled up to the emergency room, Mr. Handsome was shifting uncomfortably in the front seat. Misha leaned on the horn the second he pulled up to the emergency entrance and was glad when a few nurses immediately appeared. He climbed out of the car. "I need a gurney!" he shouted.
"What's going on?" Samantha asked, immediately coming up beside Misha. "Did you nearly cut off a finger again?"
"No!" Misha said, going around to the passenger side of the car, unbuckling Mr. Handsome. "But this guy washed up on my beach, half-frozen last night, and I couldn't risk coming out in the storm. I got him warm and he slept, but he's been hit on the head, and hasn't been conscious since."
Samantha's eyes widened and she immediately turned and ran for the entrance. Misha carefully lifted Mr. Handsome out of the car and put him down on the gurney with a grunt as soon as it was pushed under his arms. He walked up beside the rest of the nurses, pushing his fingers through his hair.
"Do you know anything else about him?" Samantha asked as they wheeled him into the ER.
Misha shook his head. "He coughed up some water, but not a lot. I was more worried about hypothermia since he had started turning blue. I got him warm and got him buried under blankets."
Samantha nodded. "You probably saved his life."
Misha gave a weary smile. "West did, not me. West saw him on the beach when the storm woke him up."
Samantha gave a low whistle and looked down at their patient. "Want me to call you when he wakes up?"
"Yeah, definitely. Now I need to go crash for at least a couple of hours since the storm kept the kids up all night," Misha said, only just managing to stifle a yawn.
"We will," Samantha promised, looking back down at the man on the gurney. She squinted at him. He looked familiar. Maybe he lived somewhere on the island and she'd seen him before.