A/N: Takes place somewhere around Chapter 19. These scenes just came to me, so I wrote them out and thought if you liked this story, you might be interested in them.

Every night now, Frank lay in bed with his arm outstretched. His hand curled slightly, and his fingers brushed against the cyborg's back. Before everything had gone to shit, Adam had taken his hand, and they'd always slept like that. Digits laced together, intertwined with subtle intimacy.

Before everything had gone to shit, Frank didn't lay awake for hours every night, willing himself to take it easy. To give Adam time. Things like this didn't heal in a few days. Their initial contact had been fueled by the passion of first times, of a new relationship, but now that there was trust, was comfort, there wasn't the same need.

The hacker tried to remind himself that this was a good thing. Healthy, in fact. Adam didn't feel obligated to go through the motions when they made him uncomfortable. And so it may be hard on Frank, may make him feel unwanted, but that didn't make the feelings true. Sure, he'd let himself feel it, but he didn't have to act on it or let it overrule his rational thought. Adam needed space, and that was that.

Still, he kept his arm out, hoping to convey that when Adam was ready, the hacker would be waiting, still wanting.

When they kissed again for the first time, it was like he could breathe again. When the ex-cop actually faced him as they drifted to sleep, taking his hand tentatively, Frank tried not to get his hopes up. Yeah, this was progress, but mental recovery didn't work in straight lines. Maybe the next night or a week from now, they'd have to pull back from each other a little. Pritchard, in no uncertain terms, made sure Adam knew that was okay. That the raven-haired man would be fine with whatever the detective needed. Wouldn't take it personally. Would sleep on the couch anytime it helped.

The next night, Adam screamed. The hacker bolted upright, turning to face his companion.

"Adam," he said loudly, over the noise. His voice was firm, but not unkind. He placed his hands gently on either side of the ex-SWAT's face. "Adam," he repeated, and the man below him opened his eyes, quieting.

Jensen's breaths came out ragged, his heart racing. Still in the haze of his nightmare, he tried to focus on reality. On Frank.

"You're here with me, Adam," the technician said, "and we're safe. We're okay. We're together here in our home."

"Francis," Adam rasped, before suddenly grabbing the man's face and crashing their lips together.

Frank gave a yelp of surprise as he was pulled downward, his arms barely keeping him from collapsing, before he relaxed into the frantic kisses. Eventually, Adam calmed, and pulled the hacker down to lay half-draped over his chest.