Tyler tapped his foot against the sterile tile floor, anxiously staring at the anatomy posters on the wall. Josh knew what he was thinking. He could always tell.

"It's not your fault," he said.

"What?" Tyler looked up.

"It's not your fault. The seizure."

"How do you know that it's not?" His foot kept bouncing. "Maybe it's my diet. Maybe it's a head trauma that they didn't pick up. Maybe I have an underlying epileptic disorder that didn't present itself until now. Maybe I've overexerted myself when I'm still in recovery. Maybe-"

"Woah now, pump the brakes, Ty." Josh stopped Tyler's rant. "How would you overexert yourself?"

Tyler looked away again. "I've been... going in runs when I thought you weren't looking. I started working out on my own."

Josh stared at him for a moment before laughing, catching his fiancé off guard. "That's it? You started working out?"

"You're not mad?"

"No! Jesus, dude, you made it sound like you murdered someone."

"Oh," Tyler laughed nervously in reply. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It was a dumb move not to tell me, but it's not the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"Yeah, I guess... I guess I've done some really dumb shit." Something in his voice changed.

Josh frowned, sitting up in his chair. "So have I. We all have."

"No, I mean like-" Tyler sucked in a shaky breath, shifting his eyes to the ceiling. "Like some really fucked up shit. More fucked up than just going on a run without telling you."

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "If I told you you'd hate me."

"I could never-"

"Do you hate your father?"

The words felt like a slap to the face. "If you even compare yourself to that bastard-"

"Do. You. Hate. Your father?"

"I hate him," Josh said. "I hate his guts. You know this, Ty. But you are nothing like him."

"How do you know? How do you know I'm not like him? Or I'm not like mine my mother?" Tyler's voice cracked.

Before Josh could reply, the doctor knocked on the door, walking in with a clipboard in hand. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked. "I can leave if you need me to."

Tyler shook his head, straightening his back. "It's okay. What's wrong with me this time?"

"Well, nothing as far as we can tell. Some extreme exertion of energy caused the seizure. Your body still couldn't handle too much physical activity, so you might want to regulate your exercise, maybe start going back to physical therapy."

Josh's head shot towards his fiancé. Tyler's face turned red all the way down to his neck. "J, I can explain-"

"It's fine," Josh said. "I already knew something was going on with you. Now I know exactly what."

"I thought I was getting stronger," Tyler confessed, not meeting his eyes. "I didn't think something like this would happen."

Josh reached over to the examination bed and took Tyler's hands in his. "It's okay, Ty, really. You fucked up. We all do. You just need to be more careful, and tell me about these intense workouts and skipping your therapy. Promise?"

Tyler bit his lip and nodded. "Okay. Promise."

The doctor smiled sympathetically. "Well, as long as you don't do any strenuous activities like a marathon you'll be fine to go back to work next week. We're still doing tests to see if there's any underlying issues we missed during our initial examination, but other than that, there's no reason to keep you here any longer," he said.

"Thanks, doc," Josh said. He helped Tyler up, his legs still wobbly, and walked him to the pharmacy on the floor below them.

They grabbed a refill of Tyler's anxiety medication and his new prescription of antipsychotics that he'd been meaning to pick up, and walked back to the car, hand in hand.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Tyler said. "I was just scared."

"Don't be, Ty. I get it. Just remember that you can talk to me about anything, and I mean anything."

"Does this mean we're going to have to delay the wedding?" He asked jokingly.

"Yeah, just until you're not having a seizure for going on a jog," Josh laughed. "How about we still go out to L.A.? It's been a while since I've gone back, and I think we both need a change in scenery before heading back to work."

"You're kidding. J, I would love to!"

Tyler leapt into Josh's arms, kissing him so deeply it made Josh's head spin, Tyler's shaky hands gripping the front of his jacket. Josh responded with a gentle peck and earned a pout in return.

"I don't know if sex counts as a physical activity-"

"It does, men burn 4.2 calories every minute of sex, while women burn only-"

"Anyways," Josh shot Tyler a warning look even though he was smiling. "I don't know how you're so hyped up all the time. I'm not as young as I used to be, Ty, I can't just up and go like you."

"Boo." Tyler pecked his cheek.

Josh brushed his hand down Tyler's neck, seeing something red staining his shirt collar. "Is that blood?"

"Oh, yeah." Tyler smiled sheepishly. "Must've been one of my nosebleeds."

"Did you ever get those checked out?"

"Mhm. The doctor said it could be caused by some blood disorder, which is he's running tests for, along with the seizure and headaches."

"I hope it's nothing. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He scrunched his nose and scratched at the corner of his mouth. "Be a dope ass federal agent without your handicap boyfriend."

"Hilarious. Like I could live without you."