THE STORY OF US BY: Julien
This story is 100% fictional and is by no means depictive of the life of any person, place or thing. It contains sexual activities between males and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area. Read at your own risk and enjoy. Comments are welcomed and would be very much appreciated. ENJOY!
I would like to thank my editor Frank for doing such a great job on editing as well as co-authoring - thanks a lot man, i couldn't have done it without you...
RICHIE
I sat on the edge of the examining table staring at a single spot on the wall, purposely willing my mind into madness. It had been less than 3 hours since my fainting spell and I hadn't allowed my mind to grasp the concept that things had changed. The images of the scene: the police, the crowd, the ambulances and the body bag were still fresh in my mind but I had hidden them so far back that I was beginning to think that maybe this was all a sick dream that I would one day wake up from. Of course I knew deep, deep down that this was no dream but if my mind couldn't grasp it, I wouldn't have to deal with it, deal with the situation, deal with the fact that the man that I loved above every one and every thing else was gone and would not be coming back. I knew that eventually reality would have to rear it's ugly head and bite me in the ass, but right here, right now, reality was just a figment of my imagination.
"Mr. Lyn, I've checked your injuries and everything appears kosher. You've got a nasty bruise on your left cheek and of course the stitches but other than that, you're fine." The doctor's voice broke me out of my thoughts and I forced myself to look at him.
"Thanks," I muttered, lowering my eyes. I couldn't have cared less if he had told me I had broken a bone and needed an amputation. It just didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.
"Well, if there are no questions," he waited a few second for a response that didn't come then continued, "you may go. See the nurse on your way out and if you feel any discomfort, take an Advil or two, it helps, trust me." He offered a small smile that reeked of sympathy and I found myself wanting to respond but finding that I was unable to. The words refused to formulate in my mind and when I finally opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out. The doctor looked down at his chart and then back at me.
"Mr. Lyn, I'm sorry about what happened to your friend."
Those words shook me out of my stupor for a moment.
"What?" I asked, anger somehow finding its way into my voice.
"You are Robert Knights' lover aren't you? I recognize your face from the papers." His words set something off inside of me and for absolutely no reason whatsoever; I started to curse him.
"And what the fuck is it to you! You've got a smart-assed comment to make, too! You people are just all the same! Why can't you just leave us alone?"
My last statement was said in a whisper and before I could stop myself, I started to cry. The knot in my throat had become too big to bear and I found myself unable to stop the flow of emotion once it had started. I knew I must have looked like a big baby, sitting on the examining table bawling my eyes out but I didn't care.
I heard the doctor clear his throat and then begin to speak, "Mr. Lyn.... Richard, I'm sorry about your loss," He paused for a moment and seemed hesitant to continue but he did, "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I lost my wife to leukemia two years ago and even though I live through the pain everyday, I try not to let it get to me. It may not seem like it now but...it will get better...eventually."
His words somehow soothed me and I felt the sudden need to talk, to purge my soul, "Does it? It hasn't.... been...a day yet and I feel like...like I want to...I just...I wish it were me. It should be me. Everything is my fault...it really is...I changed him...he came out for me...because ...of.... me...someone.... kil...." the word refused to come out and once again I found the tears begin to flow. My left hand cupped my eyes and I turned my head away from the man in front of me. I didn't want him to see what an asshole I was, what an asshole I had been. I didn't want him to see what a murderer I was. That's right, I was a murderer. I killed Bobby with every action I did and there was no doubt in my mind that if I had not let on to him how I truly felt, and if I had not pushed the issue of an 'us', then maybe he would have been alive today. We would have been just friends but he would have been alive to be my friend. But, no, I had to get greedy, I had to want more than he was willing to give. I don't think I would ever get over, or forget that. And right here, right now, all I wanted to do was to take his place. I wanted to be dead and if I couldn't bring him back, I wanted to be dead alongside him.
I looked up at the doctor and noticed that he was looking at me strangely. For a moment, I actually thought that he could read my mind, that maybe he knew my thoughts but when he broke contact by looking at his chart, I dispelled such thoughts from my mind. He couldn't possible know. Could he?
"Well, Richard, there isn't much I can do for you except offer my ear. Here is my card. Also, I'm going to give you a list of phone numbers. They're for support groups, grievance groups. It'll help, believe me." He stated, handing me a card and sheet of paper with a list of numbers on it.
"I won't be needing it," I began to tell him. "I'm ok, I don't need some shrink to tell me that. And besides, I really don't have the time."
He looked at my sympathetically and shook his head, "Well I can't force you to do anything you don't want to do, but I'm still extending my services to you free of charge. If you ever need to talk..."
"I won't," I declared, handing his card back to him but he just pushed my hands back towards my chest and said,
"Well, just in case you do. Keep it close at hand."
I looked down at the card and along with the folded paper, I put it into my shirt pocket.
"Thanks," I replied not looking at him. I hopped off of the table and began walking towards the door.
"Richard..."
I stopped in my tracks, my feet feeling wobbly beneath me, and for a moment, I thought I might faint, but instead, I was able turn around.
"Take care of yourself, please, and if you need someone to talk to, please use my number." He offered a smile my way, one that I found homey and gracious and once again, I felt the urge to let it all go, the pain, the frustration, the unease, but I knew that if I did that, I would be acknowledging the inevitable and then, I would have to deal with it.
"I will and thanks.... I really appreciate what you're trying to do for me but...I...I...I can't, not right now."
"I understand."
No words were exchanged after that but I somehow felt that connection between us. He had gone through loss and so had I and this meant that we had shared common bond and I patted the pocket that held his card. I knew I wasn't ready yet to deal with the situation but maybe later down the line I would need someone to talk to, either way, it wouldn't hurt to keep his number, just in case.
BOBBY
The sounds around me seemed amplified tenfold, and it was as if I weren't even me any more. My body felt weird and I felt every little thing that they were trying to do to me, and believe me when I say that all of this scared the shit out of me. It's like waking up in your own nightmare and realizing that you were experiencing every freaky, scary and unnatural thing for real and there was no escaping from that. I remembered what had happened scene for scene, and I sure as hell remembered what I had felt. The bullets entering my back, one by one. The pain surging through each muscle, one by one. But none of that compared to the emotional pain that I felt knowing that I would never get a chance to tell the man that I loved how much he meant to me, nor would I have the opportunity to make all the shit that I had put him through, right again. That realization was what hurt me the most, but I also believed, deep down, that it was what was keeping me alive right now. Maybe I was still clinging on to the realization that if I made it through, I would have someone there who would love me through thick and thin. Someone who would stand by me no matter what, and most importantly, someone who would take me as I am, not Robert Knight, the superstar, but rather Robert Knight, the man. Knowing that I had him to go home to if I just held on a little longer left me fighting everything those voices around me were saying.
"God, we're gonna lose him! His blood pressure is dropping fast!"
"Well, stabilize it, damn it! I will not lose this man!"
"We're doing the best we can, doc, but this doesn't look too good. EMT said three bullets to the chest and three in the limbs."
"We've had worst."
"Well we can't open him up if we don't stabilize his blood pressure."
"Listen to me and listen to me good. WE WILL NOT LOSE THIS PATIENT! Do you know who this is?"
"EMT said some famous rapper."
"Some famous rapper! Some famous rapper! This is not just some famous rapper, this is Robert Knight and if we lose him tonight, my daughter will never forgive me."
'Well at least the doc's on my side', I thought as I recalled their conversation. If I made it through, I would have to be sure to give him tickets for his daughter. But for right now, I had to base all my concentration on not slipping into the black unknown because I knew if I did, that would have been the end for me and I refused to go out like that. But as the words they spoke became heavier and heavier to my ears, I knew that it was out of my control. This fight was now up to the Man upstairs and if He had decided that it was time for me to come on home, I would have no choice but to go. But I would miss this for sure. The music, the fans and most importantly, the one constant in my life, Richie. If I died tonight, at least I could say that I had found someone to love and someone to love me back. I said one final prayer in my head, just asking for one more chance, but if I couldn't get it, all I wanted was for Richie to find the happiness that he truly deserved, and that he would get over me and move on with someone that would give him the world and not cause him any pain, as I had done. If I could be granted that last wish, then I could die a content man. I felt my head get heavy and my mind become cloudy, just as it had when Ernie had shot me and thinking that this was the end, I recalled Richie's picture in my mind just long enough to say thank you, and then, everything went black... again.
MICHAEL
As I stood by the kitchen sink looking out into the living room, I thought about my life. It had been almost two months since Adam and I had 'reconnected' and I had to admit that it had been a pretty good two months. At first, I had thought I had made a grave mistake by allowing Adam to catch, and reel me in off of the bullshit bait he called Love, but little by little, he had managed to wear down my resolve, and now, it seemed that I had turned into one of those saps that I resented. It took a while for me to get used to my change in lifestyle, after all I hadn't exactly been a one man kind of guy, but trust me when I say that Adam can be persuasive. His lips on mine can make me do things that I didn't believe were possible. And when he wanted to turn things up a notch, those lips would make a trip down south and have me singing a brand new tune. But we did have a relationship outside of sex and I was amazed at how well I had been handling it. Whereas before I wouldn't have gone out in public holding a guy's hand, (his ass is a different matter), I was now more than accepting of the fact that a PDA (public display of affection) was part of a relationship and that it was a sign of commitment. And of course, this thrilled Adam to no end. In the beginning, he had treaded lightly around me, maybe afraid that I would change my mind, but after two months of nothing but consistent affection, he gave in. Of course this didn't mean that we were without our share of problems. The fact that I lived in Connecticut and Adam in New York made for some long distance tension. Many times, the situation had come to a head and turned into an all out shouting match and with neither of us willing to give in, well, let's just say it got old after a while. I had been thinking recently that maybe I had a solution to all of this but I wasn't sure how Adam would react to this. And if just on cue, the phone rang.
"Hello." I answered, somehow knowing that this was him.
"Hey, baby, how are you?" He responded, sweetly. And I realized that I would have a hard time waiting another week for him to get here.
"Good. How are things with you?"
"Could be better. I had two surgeries this morning, back to back and unfortunately, one of them didn't make it," he paused taking a sigh before continuing, "father of three kids." His voice sounded heavy and I knew he was getting into that depression mode again.
"You did your best, Adam, you can't save them all, you know that."
"Yeah, I know, I just feel like...I feel like there is more I could have done, you know. Anyway, I'm on call in five minutes so I have to make his quick. I have some bad news about this weekend."
I took a deep breath and waited for him to drop the bombshell on me. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time.
"I have to cancel. I have a conference to go to in Atlanta. It's really important, Michael, and I was lucky to be able to get a seat to go. They only ever take five doctors from the New York Metropolitan area." I could imagine him pursing his lips, waiting for my response.
"Well, I suppose you got to do what you got to do, Michael." There was a moment of silence after that until,
"You're upset with me," he stated.
"No, I'm not. I just think that... I just wish you wouldn't make arrangements to come see me on the weekends when you know your weekends aren't free." I had tried my best to hold my brewing anger in, but it seemed to have sloshed over into my words.
"I didn't plan this on purpose Michael. It just happened. This opportunity fell right into my lap and I just couldn't pass it up."
"But you could pass me up, right?" I knew I was being unfair, but the fact that I had been going without for almost two weeks now seemed to have clouded my judgment.
"I can't believe you sometimes, Michael. After everything I do for you. How could you even say that. Who comes up there to see you almost every weekend, huh? Who does that? Me, that's who. I take off time from work, reroute patients and basically put my life on hold so that I can come see you. And never once have you offered to come down here. Why is that, Michael?" His tone had darkened and I could predict an argument coming on. Right now we were just disagreeing but it was about to get a whole lot worse.
"You're the one who wanted the commitment, Adam, so don't come crying to me because you have to make the sacrifices." I hadn't meant to say it as I did, but sometimes, in the heat of the moment, we say and do things that we know aren't right.
"Fuck you, Michael. Fuck You! If you don't want to be in this relationship, then leave. If you're doing me such a big favor by being involved in this relationship, then just fucking leave! I don't need you, Michael. I don't need you, and I don't need this stress, especially when my so-called sacrifices are being treated so ungratefully." He sounded very tough at the moment but if I knew Adam as well as I did, I knew that he was trying his hardest not to seem soft in front of me.
"Listen, I'm sorry, ok. I don't want to fight you, Adam. But you have to understand what I'm going through from my point of view. This is like the first real relationship that I've been in and it's a big fucking step from what I'm used to. This whole fidelity and monogamy thing is hard enough without adding to the mix the fact that we don't even see each other on a regular basis." I didn't know I had it in me to be diplomatic, but it seemed to me that my newfound sense of diplomacy had managed to diffuse an already heated situation, when Adam asked me a question rather than shouting it.
"Why does this have to be so hard, Michael? I mean, before, things weren't all that great, but at least we could have had a conversation without it turning into some shouting match. But now, it seems that all we do is argue and bicker like children. I love you so much, Michael, and I'm afraid if we keep this up, that I'll... that I'll lose you." His voice sounded somber and I could imagine his face adorning a frown.
I thought about the next turn of my words before I said them, "it'll get better, Adam. It's just because we're new to this and we've been away from each other for weeks now. Things will get better when we see each other again." And recalling his reason for calling me, I continued with, "it may not be this weekend but it'll be soon, I promise."
I didn't feel as confident as I sounded but Adam didn't need to know that. I heard a page go off in the background and knew that our short conversation was about to come to an end.
"Well, that's me. I'm sorry Michael, for canceling. If you want...I can cancel the conference and come to see you."
I wondered if he was serious and just by the simple fact that he was patiently waiting for my response confirmed to me that he was. And not for the first time, I realized that Adam did love me. Despite all the shit that I put him through, and all the stresses that I heaped upon his life, he truly, madly, deeply did love me 100% and finally realizing that, made me both happy and sad. Happy in the fact that I didn't feel so bad if I was starting to have those inkling feelings for him now that I realized that they would be returned ten fold, but I was sad in terms that I wasn't too sure that I could love Adam the way he wanted to, or deserved to be loved. I mean, somewhere along the way, I had stopped being my selfish old self and had decided to give him a half way decent chance of getting underneath my skin and into my heart. He had tried his darnedest and had finally succeeded but I hadn't had the courage to let him know just how deep my feelings ran for him. A part of me still feared that giving up myself to Adam would mean giving up the core of who I was and what I had been for the majority of my life, a self indulgent playboy who never intended to be bedded down with one guy, but things had changed, drastically, and Adam was the cause of it all.
"I believe you, Michael. I know this is hard on you and I know that you've rearranged your whole lifestyle for us and I just want you to know that no matter what, I love and appreciate you for it."
His words touched me to the core and I had to stop myself from feeling any emotion.
"Well, I better let you go back to work. Maybe I'll call you later for a little bump and grind." I hoped that would be enough to turn the conversation around, for all of this serious talk and expressions of love was getting to me.
I could practically hear him smiling through the phone, "bump and grind, huh, I bet you'd like that. How long had it been?"
"The last time you were up here, too damn long. I miss that ass of yours."
"And you haven't been messing with anyone else." He ventured, his tone taking a 180 degree turn. He was still suspicious of what I did while he was away and he had every right to be. I wasn't exactly a model of perfection when it came to fidelity and it was becoming harder and harder to turn away all those men that wanted to mess with me.
"You know I haven't. If I feel the need to fuck another guy, Adam, you'll be the first to know." I waited for a response from him and when none came, I continued with, "I meant what I said about being faithful, Adam. Remember that."
He sheepishly apologized for bringing it up, and before I could intervene with a 'don't worry about it', he had said "I love you" and hung up. I replaced the receiver in its cradle and walked into the living room. Sitting on the sofa, I turned on the television and was just in time to catch the last five minutes of the evening news.
"Well, as reported earlier by our affiliate in NYC, famed R&B superstar Robert Knight was shot inside his Manhattan garage at around three thirty this afternoon. Sources close to the investigation report that Mr. Knight sustained serious gunshot wounds to the chest, arms and legs and remains in critical condition at Jacoby Medical Centre. His assailant has not been identified as of yet but from our sources close to the investigation, it is said to be someone from the Knight camp. Again, famed R&B superstar Robert Knight has been shot and critically injured in an apparent murder attempt by someone in his camp. We will bring you more details as they become available to us. Lisa, back you. Thanks Shannon and in other news..."
I leaned back against the couch, my mouth agape and tried to get my thoughts together. Could this be true? The media had been wrong about this sort of thing before and had caused mass hysteria with their false reports but for some reason, this didn't seem to be the case. They even gave the type of injury that he had sustained and the hospital in which he was being treated. I picked up the phone and began punching in Richie's cell phone number. If there was any truth to this, Richie would know. After about the fourth ring, I was about to hang up when I heard his voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello." He sounded hoarse, as if he had been crying.
"Richie, it's Michael. I just heard on the news about Bobby. I'm so sorry."
"Me too. I was supposed to be meeting him to, to work things out but then...then this happened." I could hear that he was desperately trying to hold it together and that made my heart clench in my chest. My friend was hurting and their seemed to nothing that I could do to ease his pain.
"What happened?" I asked, wanting to hear things from his perspective.
"I don't know. They just said someone, a fan maybe, shot him a number of times," his voice broke and he started to cry quietly, "They killed him just because he was with me. They killed him because of me, Michael. If it wasn't for me, if I didn't push this lifestyle on him, maybe, maybe he would still be alive." His emotions had collapsed and he started to openly cry.
It took me a while to focus in on what he had said and when I realized the consequences of it, I spoke up.
"He's not dead, Richie! He's in critical condition but he's still alive."
"What?" he asked, his voice uncertain.
"On the news, they said he's in critical condition at Jacoby Medical Centre."
"No, they're wrong. He's dead, he died. I saw his body. I... he's dead, he's dead." From that point on he totally disintegrated into a mass of sobs. I wanted so bad to be able to reach through the phone and hold him at that moment, to be the friend I had failed to be so many times before.
"It's ok, Richie, it's ok, baby. It's ok... It'll be ok, just calm down. Take a deep breath and calm down." He seemed to be following my instructions for he began to breathe normally again and his sobs became less violent.
"You ok now, Richie?" I asked, hoping to get him to tell me something that would confirm to me that he was truly ok.
"Yeah," he answered weakly.
"I can be there in a few hours if you need me..." he cut me off stating that he was going to be ok. I was at a loss for words as to what to say now but the decision was quickly made for me.
"He's really alive, he's ok? Are you sure, Michael?"
"Yes, it was on the news. They said he was in critical condition but that he was still alive. He's still alive, Richie." My words seemed to bring about a sigh of relief from him and the repeated mantra of 'thank you'.
"You'll be ok Richie, you'll be ok," I stated to which he replied,
"Thanks Michael...I...I have to go but I'll call you later. And Michael...I love you. Thanks...for everything." I could hear the emotion in his voice and could tell that he was on the verge of tears again, so I quickly gave him an out by telling him to go see Bobby. He was more than happy to oblige me and hung up. After that, I spent a few minutes just sitting and digesting everything that had just happened. Someone upstairs was obviously messing with Mr. Knight as this was the second time that misfortune had struck him. The first time he had up and disappeared leaving everyone believing that he had been killed in a plane crash and now this. 'Poor Richie', I thought. He had been through so much with this relationship, but like a wounded puppy, he just kept going back for more. I think that this was the first time that I finally realized that he really did love Bobby with all his heart. I mean, to stand by a man that could be this tough image one second and at another, be a volatile man that was liable to snap at any minute. But through all of that, Richie had been there. And it made me wonder if Adam would be that strong in his resolve to be with me. True, we had not had anything happen in our relationship that could come close to what Bobby and Richie had gone through but we had had our share of bad times, a lot of them actually. But through it all, he had stood by me, determined to keep us together and even though in the beginning I had not appreciated it, I did now. I picked up the phone again and punched in the familiar number.
His answering machine greeted me and I decided to leave him a message,
"Hey, Adam. I um...I was thinking that you're right. I have been a little selfish lately and I want to make it up to you. I'm thinking that I can be there by 9 tomorrow and that way we can at least have Thursday and Friday nights together before your conference on Saturday. You've been right in saying that I've been avoiding coming down there but it is only to keep myself out of trouble. It's been hard for me not being able to get sex whenever I want and not being able to see you whenever I want. But I want to give this...give us, an honest shot. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm serious about this and about you and...I think, no, I know that...I love you. Anyway, I got to go but I'll see you tomorrow, bye." With that, I hung up. I couldn't believe that I had actually said it. Never in my wildest dream would I have thought that those words were capable of coming out of my mouth, but they had. And to top it all off, I didn't feel the tinge of regret that I thought I would if and when the time had come for me to say that to another person. And it left me smiling inside, knowing that maybe for once in my life, I was man enough to trust someone else.
RICHIE
I stood inside the lobby of the Jacoby Medical Centre amidst hoards of reporters and bystanders alike, unable to get past the barricade that was set up by the hospital staff and security personnel. I wanted to make a mad dash towards them but knew that that would only get me so far and I would have only been liable to be put in a jail cell. But I wouldn't give up, not when the man that I loved was in there, all alone, trying to fight for his life. I decided to make another attempt up at the nurse's station, to see if someone, anyone could get me in, if only for a second.
"Excuse me?" I asked, trying my damnedest not to look annoyed at the nurse behind the counter who even refused to acknowledge my presence.
"What can I do for you?" She replied, not even having the decency to look at me.
"I want to see Robert Knight."
She finally did look up at my words but the expression on her face was a far cry from sympathetic.
"You and half the free world, sweetheart. Mr. Knight is off limits so why don't you go join your other reporter buddies and leave me in peace." With that, she turned her chair around and began reading a magazine that had lain quietly by her desk. On impulse, I reached over and snatched it out of her hand.
"Hey!" she called, "Give that back and get the hell away from my station before I call security."
But I wasn't about to let her get the upper hand. I threw the magazine over her head and when she bent to pick it up, I ran past her station and through the door that stated RESTRICTED PERSONELL ONLY. I could hear her scream something to someone in the background but I didn't care. I had to find Bobby. I ran down the long, white corridor trying every door that looked promising until I came to two double doors marked SURGERY: DO NOT ENTER - RESTRICTED PERSONELL ONLY. I pushed them open and was stopped in my tracks. Two men in green scrubs stood over the operating table with scalpels in hand.
"You can't be in here. Get out of here," said one of the nurses. She reached over her shoulder to pick up the telephone and no doubt, to dial security. But before she could get her hand around it, the double doors burst open and two uniformed officers stepped in, grabbing both my hands and making an attempt to remove me from the room.
"No! Please, let me see him! Let me go, I have to see him!" I screamed, flailing my hands and kicking, trying to do anything that would force them to release me so that I could go and be by his side.
"Calm down, buddy! Calm down!" Once officer screamed, holding my hand tighter.
"Please, don't take me away, I have to see him. He needs me, my baby needs me!"
My cries seemed to fall on deaf ears as they began pulling me through the doors until one doctor stopped them,
"Wait. Let him go," he called.
"What? He can't be in here. He's a reporter who broke through the barricade and..." one officer started to say.
"No, I know this man, and he's no reporter, he's Robert Knights' partner. Let him go but escort him to the Observation Room, please. It's for the safety of the patient. You may watch from there, Sir, but I need you to leave, now."
The officers exchanged a look of angst but then conceded, releasing my arms and slowly walking me to the next room. I let out a sigh of relief and collapsed against the wall. One of the guards ran over to me, catching me just before I hit the floor.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just feel so...I feel dehydrated."
"Hold on." With that, he walked over to the fountain, grabbed a cup from the dispenser, filled it with water and walked back over to me.
"Here, drink this," he said, handing it to me. After I had finished the water, I realized that I was beginning to feel much better and my attention returned to where it belonged, on Bobby.
"Oh God. Is he...is he ok?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. Just seeing him there, lying so still on the table, a breathing tube down his throat and machines surrounding him, breathing for him, giving him life, it made me feel overwhelmed and I had to hold on the guard's arm to keep from collapsing again.
"Whoa there, take a seat. Just sit here for a minute to catch your breath," he said, leading me over to a chair in front of the window. I slid down into it and stared at the sight before me, wanting to look away but unable to do so. Bobby needed me to be strong for both of us right now. The doctors had resumed whatever they had been doing before I had interrupted them. They picked up their scalpels and began cutting into Bobby's flesh. I had to turn away as I saw blood begin to flow from his wounds.
Over the speakers I heard, "Ok, the first incision is made now let's cleanse the area and then remove the fragments." Their instructions forced me, as is human nature, to look at what they were doing. I watched as they used an instrument to reach into the incision and pull out what looked to be a bullet fragment. It clanked into the pan the nurse held. I froze when I saw it and tears began to silently streak down my cheek.
'Oh, baby', I thought, watching again and again as they dug into his chest and pulled out more pieces of shattered metal. I closed my eyes and just sent a quiet prayer above, begging for a second chance to make things work. If God could grant me that, then I would be a very happy man. And, as if out of nowhere, something Michael had said to me came floating back. He had told me that if I didn't tell Bobby how I felt, then I would get to tell the story of us, and I would have lived the rest of my life wondering 'what if'. I don't know why I was thinking about that moment in time right now, but it was so vivid in my head that I could picture every detail of our exchange that day. Thinking about that now forced me to believe that Bobby and I had gone through too much drama, too much shit, too much pain, for things to just end this way. This couldn't be the end of our story, it just couldn't be. That train of thought kept me believing that Bobby would come back to me and that we would get through this as we had everything else in our lives. We just had to get through this.
The doctor's hand on mine brought me back to the present and I had no choice but to prepare to hear the news.
"Well, he made it through the surgery alright but he is still in critical condition. He has multiple gunshot wounds to his chest and unfortunately, a bullet pierced his right lung so there was some internal bleeding. We have stabilized him, though, and he is no longer on the breathing machine. He has a good chance, Richard. That's all I can say with any certainty, he has a chance." With that he began to slightly caress the top of my hand.
"Thank you," I barely managed to get out, "I...appreciate what you're trying to do for him. And thank you for letting me observe. You didn't know me but you let me in. I'll never forget you for that."
He smiled and shook his head, "my daughter is a big fan of Mr. Knight's. She loves him to death and thinks he is the next best thing to God. She has his posters all over her room."
"And you don't have a problem with that knowing that he's..." and for some reason, I couldn't get the words out.
"Gay? Not at all. He's still a person isn't he? Someone's son, someone's brother," and then pausing to look me in the eye he continued with, "someone's lover? I know who you are Richard, I've read the papers. And to tell you the God's honest truth it's a shame that you boys had to go through all that you did. It's a damn shame that things had to come to this. But I'll promise you one thing, my staff and I will do our best to keep Mr. Knight here with us."
"Thanks," I responded, the weight on my shoulder slightly lifted from his kind words.
"Well, if you want, you can have some time alone with him. He's still unconscious but he just may be able to hear what you have to say. It might be the thing to bring him back."
I readily jumped at the offer and followed him until we reached a closed door marked 209. He slowly opened it and stepped aside, allowing me to pass. I slowly walked in and turned around just in time to catch his back as he shut the door. I slowly turned back around and walked up to the bedside. Looking down on Bobby, I saw that he looked as if he were taking a nap. His face remained neutral, as it had been on so many times after he had fallen asleep, after we had made love. There was nothing there to suggest that someone had tried to end his life just a few short hours before or that he was still fighting for his life. I reached for his hand and gently began caressing it as I spoke to him.
"Bobby, I'm here, baby. I'm here holding your hand, waiting for you to come back to me. I love you so much, baby, and I need you. I need you in my life to make it complete. I need you here with me, Bobby, because without you, I just don't think I can go on living another day. I know that you're probably tired and weak from fighting so hard and that you may want to just let go, but don't. I need you, the fans need you. You are so loved, sweetheart, and the world won't be the same without you. I won't be the same without you."
And with that, I broke down into a mass of sobs. I couldn't lose this man, I just couldn't. And as if he could feel my pain, I felt something. I looked down on his hand encased in mine and saw that his fingers were moving. It wasn't much, but it was something. It seemed only a second before it stopped. But it was enough to let me know that he was still here and that he was gonna fight this with me standing by his side. I leaned into him and kissed him gently. There was no response. I took the seat nearest to him and continued to hold his hand as I laid my head on the side of his bed and softly began to sing the words of 'BEN'. I didn't do the song justice but it was enough. It was enough for me to get through the next 24 hours and it was enough for him to know that I was here, no matter what.
THANKS FOR READING FOLKS AND THANKS FOR THE EMAILS AND WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT. THIS MAY BE MY LAST POSTING BEFORE THE CHRISTMAS BREAK BUT HOPEFULLY I'LL BE ABLE TO RUSTLE SOMETHING UP. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.