Do not read further if you are not of legal age to do so. The medical conditions and prison procedures portrayed in this chapter and the next are not intended to represent actual scenarios. All the usual disclaimers apply.
RECAP: Trying to make up for his role in the gay bashing that left Dean in a coma, Harrison affected a disastrous date between Dean and Reid. Realizing that Dean still had unresolved feelings for his unfaithful ex-boyfriend Marc, Harrison gave some advice to Marc, who was also pining after Dean. Meanwhile, Caleb met his new cellmate. 26-year-old Julian is handsome, blond and infuriatingly cheerful, not to mention an overly enthusiastic bottom. But his hard truths cause Caleb to lash out, putting Julian in hospital and leaving Caleb feeling extremely guilty.
LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS
~ Chapter 23 ~
From the Narrative of Caleb Fisher:
After spending a sleepless night and picking at my breakfast the next morning, there were no words to describe the relief I felt when I finally spotted Max patrolling the corridors.
"Max!" I called out.
He sighed and walked over to my cell door. "Rob warned me you'd be looking for me this morning. I came prepared with news of the kid."
"How is he?" I asked urgently.
"Well, they've transferred him to the county hospital. The infirmary doesn't exactly have the equipment for surgery -"
"Surgery?" I echoed, feeling sick to the pit of my stomach as all sorts of awful images flashed before my eyes. "I didn't hit him that hard!"
Max gave me a weird look. "This wasn't anything to do with you or anyone else hitting him. He had appendicitis."
"Oh," was the only reply I could muster. Suddenly everything seemed to add up. I guess that in my stressed out state I had missed the obvious. My sole comfort now was the knowledge that I couldn't possibly have caused Julian's appendicitis, although - and I winced at the memory of him curled up in pain - I probably hadn't helped matters either by dealing him that accidental blow to his gut.
"So he's going to be okay?" I sought confirmation.
"Yeah, the hospital sent word this morning that he was out of danger, although they'll be keeping him there for a couple of days to make sure no infection develops. He'll probably have to stay in the infirmary for a while longer when he returns, before being released back into general population."
I bowed my head and mumbled a thank you under my breath. Looking up, I found Max eyeing my curiously. "You'll let me know if you get any other news about Julian, won't you?" I asked hurriedly.
Max shrugged. "If there's any news, yeah."
"Thanks, Max."
"No problem, Cal."
I watched him go before collapsing backwards onto my bunk. Worrying can be quite exhausting. Of course, Julian being on the road to recovery wasn't the end of my worries. There was still the problem of how I could make up it to him for my bad-tempered tirade, but I knew it would come to me, in time. And based on what Max had said about Julian's expected recovery period, time was something I had only too much of.
From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:
I stood on the doorstep of Dean's apartment building, feeling like an idiot. I'd pressed the button next to his name for the third time, and there was still no reply. This is why, I told myself, you should always call up to determine if someone's home before deciding to drop in on them. But it was Saturday morning; where could he have gone?
Just as I was about to leave, Dean's voice came over the intercom. "Hello?" He sounded a little flustered.
"Good morning, Dean. It's me, Harrison. I'm sorry; did I wake you?" I checked my watch. It was almost half past ten.
"Uh, no. Um ... come on up." The door buzzed open and I made my way upstairs.
Dean opened the door, while trying in vain to smooth his mussed-up hair. "Come in."
I walked into the living room to find we were not alone in the apartment - Marc was standing next to the sofa, trying his best to look casual.
"You're here early," I told him. For some reason, my words made him blush. Then I noticed that his shirt was buttoned the wrong way, with the top one completely undone, revealing a lightly hairy chest. Put together with the fact they were both looking flustered, it quickly dawned on me what was going on.
"Looks like I was wrong. I should've asked what time you arrived last night," I teased. Now both of them blushed.
I grinned but couldn't help shaking my head. "So I hope you won't think it's too forward of me asking this: is this a permanent reconciliation or ...?"
"Well ..." They looked at each other, and then Dean slipped his hand into Marc's.
"I rather hope it will last this time," Dean said softly.
Marc gazed affectionately at Dean. "I swear I will never do another thing to hurt him."
"I'm glad to hear that. At least I can chalk up one happy couple."
Dean looked concerned. "Is everything fine between you and Josh?"
"Yes." I recalled our conversation in bed the previous night. "Well, we have our moments, but Josh loves me too much - sometimes I feel more than I love him."
"I felt the same way, too. I didn't feel worthy of Dean after what I'd done. But he accepted me back - that was really great of him," said Marc.
"Don't be an idiot. The most important thing was that we loved each other. Besides, if I hadn't accepted you back, you'd have been moping around in my hallway for the rest of the year and making it damned inconvenient." Dean grinned at his boyfriend.
I smiled to see both of them, obviously very much in love with each other.
Dean turned to me. "Hey, you know what. We should go out together one of these days."
"Actually," I said, "that's the reason I came over. Although I was only planning on extending an invitation for one - but I'm sure Josh won't mind Marc tagging along now that you two are together again. You've never been to Josh's caf‚, the Surf `n' Sand, have you?"
They both shook their heads.
"Well, the Surf Fest is next week and-"
Marc interrupted. "Oh, that's right. The Surf `n' Sand is hosting the after-party, isn't it?"
"How'd you know that?"
Marc grinned. "I'm a journalist, remember? I'm supposed to cover the Fest for the Corona Times."
"Oh, right. Well, that's perfect then. We can all meet up at the caf‚. Although I can't promise you I'll be very free - I'm supposed to help Josh out with the party." I noticed Dean was looking a little uncomfortable. "Is something the matter?"
"Well ... it's just that ... Reid will be there, right?"
"Yes, of course, he's taking part in the competition ..." My voice trailed off as I realized what Dean was getting at. "You're afraid that it'll be awkward. You needn't worry; Reid's a great guy. He doesn't bear grudges, not even against me - which is a big deal considering I practically stole his boyfriend. Trust me, he'll probably be your best friend before the night is over."
Dean said, "Well, he was very polite and kind of sweet, not to mention very hot." You're telling me, I thought to myself, still able to see Reid's gorgeous naked body in my mind's eye. I don't think I'll ever forget that.
Dean was saying, "Frankly, it's amazing that a catch like him doesn't have a boyfriend."
I shrugged. "I'm sure he'll find one - it just won't be me arranging it. I've been banned from matchmaking in the future. Shit, look at the time. I'm supposed to help my sister babysit her son. Mom usually does it, but Alan's really quite active and the doctor has ordered her to have as much rest as possible."
"Aww, you're looking after your nephew. How old is he?"
"One and a half," I replied.
"Okay then, we'd better not keep you from your task. We'll see you at the Surf Fest."
"Yeah, see you then. And you two kids stay out of trouble, okay?" I grinned.
Dean said pointedly, "Goodbye!"
"I'm going, I'm going. You don't need to be so obviously eager to get rid of me. And don't let any other visitors up!" I left quickly before either of them could grab anything to throw at me.
From the Narrative of Caleb Fisher:
It was several days later that Max got my attention by rapping on the bars of my cell.
"Your guy's just been transferred back in from the County Hospital; he's been assigned a bed in the infirmary till he's fully recovered." With that announcement he turned to go.
"Hey, hold up, Max!"
The guard paused in his tracks. "Yes, what is it this time, Caleb?" he asked wearily.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but ... do you think you could get me in to see him?"
Max stared at me as though I'd uttered something absolutely preposterous. He leaned closer to the bars and hissed, "Are you trying to make me lose my job or something? You know it's against the rules for one inmate to visit another in the infirmary. He'll be out in a week or so, you can tell him then."
I sighed with frustration. "I know, Max, it's just that ... what I have to tell him can't wait that long! As it is, I've wasted enough time. Come on, Max, when have I ever asked you for anything?"
I knew that last sentence had been a bad addition. Max pretended to think: "Hmm, let's see. Back in February you wanted me to -"
I interrupted before he had the chance to remind me how I'd asked him to help me out by guaranteeing that a certain new inmate got transferred into my cell. "Okay, okay. There was that one time. But other than that, I've never asked for any favors, have I?" Max had to nod his agreement.
I knew I had to move in quickly to win this argument. "It'd mean a lot to me, and to Julian. Just this once, Max - in the name of our friendship." I felt a little bad for using such a dirty move, bringing up the camaraderie we'd forged over the years. When I'd first entered the penitentiary eight years ago, Max - a junior guard back then - had been similarly new to the establishment. I fixed my best pleading look on him, which was no easy feat considering how rarely I felt the need to grovel. Yet strangely enough this was the second time in less than a week.
Max looked at me for a few seconds, and then sighed loudly as he reached for his bunch of keys. "How do I let you talk me into these things ..." he grumbled under his breath.
I was so delighted I could've kissed him. (Obviously I didn't, but based on the vibes I'd gotten off Max in the past, I don't think he would've minded particularly if I had.)
"You won't regret this," I promised.
"I sure as hell hope not!" he muttered, swinging my cell door open.
For someone who worked in a profession that involved the enforcement of rules, Max certainly seemed to know a lot about ways to get around them. It took a while, and a good deal of haggling with the nurse on duty at the infirmary, but eventually he managed to get me into the ward that was Julian's temporary home.
"She said he had the last ward to himself," mumbled Max, stopping short at the end of the corridor, "so this must be it". He sneaked a peek through the glass panel set into the door. I was about to attempt a peek myself when he turned back around.
"Yup, it's your boy alright. Now, you've got ten minutes - no more."
"That's more than I could've hoped for," I said gratefully. "Thanks a lot, Max."
He grunted, looking a little embarrassed, and gestured for me to enter the room. I obeyed and found myself in a surprisingly bright room. There were three beds against the walls on either side, with a walkway in the middle that led up to a bank of windows on the wall directly opposite me. The windows were barred, of course, but they let in plenty of natural light - something one is otherwise hard-pressed to find in a prison.
Five of the beds were unoccupied, but in one of the end ones there was a tousled blond head sticking out from underneath the covers. As I approached I saw that Julian was asleep; he looked so angelic and peaceful it seemed like a shame to wake him. Then I remembered the time crunch I was in and forced myself to shake him awake by the shoulder.
His eyelids fluttered open and he squinted against the bright sunlight streaming in from the nearby windows. "Caleb? How'd you get in here?"
"I know some people," I said, grinning. I looked around for a chair but there was none, so I sat on the edge of the bed instead. "How're you feeling?"
"Much better," he smiled, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Although the doctor says I'll be out of commission for a couple of weeks. So how've you been?" He gave a cheeky grin. "I hope you haven't been spending your days all by your lonesome."
I couldn't believe it. I had insulted him, lost my temper when he rightfully protested, and then proceeded to aggravate the symptoms of his appendicitis by hitting him. Yet here he was acting all lighthearted and flirty.
I just went right ahead and said it. "Julian. I'm sorry. I should never have called you -"
He interrupted "S'okay."
"No, it's not okay. You were just trying to help, and I - I lashed out at you. Please accept my apology."
Julian sighed. "Well, if you insist ... apology accepted. To tell the truth, I don't know why I reacted that way. I mean, I've been called a lot worse before. And now that I've had time to think about it ... I don't really blame you. It wasn't my place to say those things -"
"But you were right," I said quietly.
Julian blinked, evidently unsure that he'd heard me correctly.
"You were right," I repeated. "You hit a little too close to home. That's why I reacted the way I did. And I had no right -"
"Caleb," Julian interjected gently, realization registering in his eyes, "you don't have to -"
I held up my hand to silence him. "Just ... let me finish." I didn't think I could go through with it twice. I turned and looked out the window, thankful that the ward was empty except for the two of us, for what I had to say was extremely personal.
"The first time I ever did anything with another man was with Harrison Ridgeway. It was wrong from the word go, and I knew it. I had a nephew who was closer in age to him, and who had spent most of his teenage years in love with him. At first I told myself it was just a way of getting sexual relief, I was helping Harry explore his gay side while remaining completely heterosexual myself." I gave a crooked grin. "I was lying to myself. Something in me had changed. And I tried to hide it. I lied to Harry that there was nothing between us, and the weird part was - he accepted it. So easily! And there I was struggling to accept it myself."
"But then he got released, and I went back to being alone in my cell. It was so simple to tell myself that I'd just had my long-overdue adolescent hormonal phase, and the confusion had passed. And who should turn up to unsettle the precarious balance I had built up but you. You made me face truths that I would rather not have ..."
He was looking intently at me, head cocked slightly to one side, an indescribably tender expression on his features.
"... And I took it out on you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Julian shook his head. "Caleb, I had appendicitis. You can't blame yourself for that. If anything, it was my own stubborn mule-headedness in not seeking medical attention as soon as I knew something wasn't right -"
"Why didn't you?" I interrupted.
He gave a crooked smile. "Would you believe it's because I'm terrified of hospitals?"
I stared at him. Fear of medical institutions is something I can understand in octogenarians, but a twenty-something-year- old guy ...
"I grew up in small-town Texas," he said by way of explanation. (I thought I'd detected a slight Texas accent.) "We never went to the hospital unless it was absolutely necessary. And after I came to L.A. ... well, let's just say hospital visits didn't bode very well for guys in my, uh, line of work." He looked down at his interlinked fingers as he said the last words, and for the first time I saw how deeply ashamed he was of what he'd had to do for a living. Of what he'd doubtless have to go back to doing when he was released from prison. It didn't matter that it wasn't the job of his choice, or whether he even liked it - I was starting to feel he didn't, that it was all part of the brave facade that he put up - but it was the only way he knew of to earn a living. And in that instant I made my decision.
"You're not going back there," I said. "When you get out of here ... you're not going back to the streets. You're coming to live with me."
There was a pause. Then he laughed, nervously. "You're kidding, right?" The laughter died as he saw the serious expression on my face. "Right?" he asked again, weakly.
I shook my head firmly. "Look, we're getting released within weeks of each other. I'll be out first, and I'll wait for you. I know there won't be a lot of money, and the first couple of months or so might be rough, but I do have some savings, and then there's my nephew, I know he'll help out ..." I was babbling in my keenness to reassure him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on him; he looked thoroughly miserable.
Finally he choked out a "Don't!"
I stopped mid-sentence, feeling confused and a little alarmed. "What's wrong?"
He had his eyes clenched shut. "Please don't, Caleb. Don't do this to me. Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."
"I do intend to keep them!" I protested.
"Not to me you don't. Who am I to you, Caleb? Just some guy you share your cell with and feel sorry for. That's not a reason to put him up in your home."
"It isn't," I agreed. "But it is when you care about him. And I do. I care about you. I'm not sure if I - I love you, but I definitely care about you." The words took me by surprise, but as I said them I knew that they were true.
And from the look on Julian's face, he knew it too. And it surprised him, because he hadn't thought anyone was capable of caring about him. I could see it in his eyes, and it practically wrenched my heart out of my chest. His tears spilled over, and I reacted instinctively, wrapping my arms around him. He melted into my embrace, crying silently. I wanted to say something, whisper comforting words in his ear, but they weren't needed.
"You're a good man, Caleb," he whispered. I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a finger to my lips. He gave a crooked smile. "I'm telling you - and I've met a lot of men." There was no pride in his voice at this `accomplishment'. "There were men who just wanted a quick fix. There were men who had a wife and kids waiting at home. And there were men like Eric ..."
"One day you'll tell me about him," I said.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, surprise that someone should care, before he realized he should no longer be stunned by that. "Maybe some day," he nodded, "but not now."
"No," I agreed, "we don't have the time."
Almost on cue, I heard someone clearing their throat at the other end of the ward. Both Julian and I looked in that direction to see Max; he held up his watch-encircled wrist and tapped the quartz face.
"I have to go," I told Julian. I knew it had been well over ten minutes, and I wondered how long Max had been waiting there; I hadn't heard him come into the ward. How much had he overheard? Did it even matter?
I decided that it didn't. A week ago I would have balked at a public display of affection, but those painful moments when Julian had been writhing in agony on his bunk had taught me a valuable lesson. I got up and kissed Julian on the forehead. "Get well quickly, Jules." A smile touched his face at the nickname.
"I will," he promised. "You take care of yourself."
I gave his hand a tight squeeze before letting go and walking towards Max.
"You know, I can probably get the kid his own cell by using this illness as a reason."
I stared at Max. We were almost at my cell door. He went on innocently, "I mean, you do still want your cell to yourself, right?"
"You know very well I don't!" I growled.
Max smirked. "I thought not. Well, here you are" - he swung the door open and stood aside for me to pass through - "You can thank me later."
I gave him a quizzical glance.
Max clicked his tongue impatiently. "Come on, who put the pretty boy in your cell to begin with, huh?"
I sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Thanks, Max. You're a real pal."
He chuckled as he locked the door. "And don't you forget it!"
I watched him stride off down the corridor and couldn't help smiling. How could I forget, when I would soon have Julian's bubbly, golden-haired presence as a constant reminder of the circumstances of our first, fateful meeting?
To be continued ...
Please send your feedback to justinr_88@yahoo.com. Once again my apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. The next chapter should follow shortly.