Date: Sun, 18 Feb 2007 15:42:18 -0800 (PST) From: John Gerald Subject: Connections 18 Thanks again for keeping up with the story. Comments always welcome! "He makes all the decisions! Talk to him! Don't call my family!" Brad was getting delirious, both from the pain in his leg and arm, and also from the loss of blood. The IV hadn't really taken hold yet, but in a moment of lucid thought, the idea of his parents making his medical decisions when he was under the knife terrified him. The nurse looked at Mike. "Are you a relative?" she was an older heavy-set woman, with big old-fashioned plastic frame glasses and a bedside manner left something to be desired. "No, but..." "it's usually a relative or spouse," she stated emphatically, her aloof expression giving a icy hardness to the pronouncement. "He makes the decisions. Him!" Brad yelled out again, this time in pure desperation. He was way beyond any subtle strategy at this point. In spike of his injuries, Mike thought that he might just reach up and strangle her. She just stared at him, and then Mike. "Well, he's old enough to decide for himself." She looking down at brad on the gurney, sighing with resignation. "You're not really in a position to sign anything, but we can do it verbally." In his mind, Mike had labeled her Nurse Coldfish. "I don't think you'll have any life or death decisions to make," the doctor said to Mike, moving the white privacy curtain out of the way as he re-joined them in the small alcove. Dr. O'Connor had done the initial examination when Brad was wheeled in few minutes ago, but had exited to look after another patient while the other nurses cleaned Brad up and attached the IV. The doctor didn't look a lot older than the guys themselves, though he was in fact in his late 30's. "He's lost a lot of blood, and has a pretty good gash on his leg, not to mention the arm, but he's young and in good condition. We'll just refill the tank and patch the holes and he'll be as good as new." Brad barely heard what he said, but felt like it must be good as Mike grabbed his good hand and brought it up to his chest, gently squeezing and rubbing it on the way up. The gesture got a raised eyebrow out of the nurse, but the doctor was completely nonplussed. A very welcome change from Coldfish. "The arm can just be bandaged up, but the legs going to need some stitches and a little bit of minor surgery. He didn't speak to anyone in particular, but then fixed his gaze on the patient. "Did you understand me, Brad?" the doctor asked. Brad was silent for a moment before looking at Mike. He was clearly out of it, but Mike bent down and repeated the doctors question anyway. Brad might not understand the doc, but he would understand Mike. He just nodded in acknowledgement and whispered up to Mike. "Don't leave." "You know I won't. I'll be here all the time. OK? Brad shook his head again. "We have to take you into surgery now, OK Brad? " the Doctor said, as he again focused his attention on making sure that he was getting through to the patient. Another head shake. "Kathy here is going to give you a shot, it will make you go to sleep. When you wake up, you'll be on your way to recovery. We're going to go ahead, OK? Brad looked up at Mike, who just smiled at him. "It's OK. You'll be as good as new, babe." "All right, go ahead. Do what you need to do" Brad's words were meant for the doctor, but he continued to look at Mike. After seeing Brad off to his surgery, Mike went back out into the waiting room. Hanna and Kurt were there, but his Dad had stayed home with Mrs. Kovar. The seizure was less severe than it looked at the time and the doctors had sent her home almost immediately. This kind of thing had happened before, and since she had no injuries resulting from the seizure the only thing they could do was to send her home to get some rest. Sometimes after one of these she'd sleep for almost a day. Mike ran his fingers through his hair as he approached his sister, who immediately noticed the drawn look on his face. Her brother had changed so much over the last 6 months, but for the moment he had lost most of that new glow. "Mirek, how is he?" In spite of his own distress, Mike noticed that Kurt had his hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle grip. It was one thing that was actually happy about that moment. After squinting his eyes and looking to the side, he finally answered her. "They say he'll be OK, in fact they can make him as good as new. So it's good news." Normally, one would have expected him to so show some relief, but he couldn't get there yet. "How's Mom? He asked. Hanna reached her hand out to Mike's arm, squeezing him just above the elbow. a "She's OK. Dad says she'll be fine. What about you"? Her eyes drilled into Mike's, but he couldn't look her in the face at that moment. He couldn't have looked at anyone. Mike had been Brad's rock since the whole thing happened. Helping to push the car off of him, talking to him on the way to the hospital, being with him in the emergency room. All Brad saw was nothing but steady and reliable support, which is exactly what Mike intended. But he didn't know how to finally remove this fragile façade without literally falling apart himself. Hanna could feel him shaking. "Mirek. Come here." She just reached over and hugged her brother, who slowly bent down and rested his head on her shoulder. She could feel the coldness of a small wet spot as it started to form there. She just pulled her hug tight around him as they held each other in the waiting room. "Mike, is there anything I can do?" Kurt asked as the siblings slowly unfolded their embrace. He looked nearly as ashen as Mike. "Todd, I haven't had a chance to thank you. You've done so much. I don't know how we can repay you." He reached over, holding Kurt's hand in his., pulling them together. "I didn't do anything like Brad did, Mike. I knew what I was doing and it was easy. He did the heavy lifting...uh, literally, I guess" he said, catching his own pun. It was silent for a moment, no one quite knowing what to say, until Mike finally cracked a smile, the first one he'd had since the whole ordeal began. He sniffled and said, "I'll have to tell him that one later on" Brad could barely open his eyes, but knew that it was already dark outside. The rather antiseptic room was artificially lit, the light coming from some indistinct sources behind him, maybe on the wall, maybe from the ceiling, he couldn't tell, but the window was a big black box. Moving his head over to the left side, he saw the shape of someone, a person, looking like they were slumped over in a chair. The jeans and shirt looked familiar. He was too weak to speak, or even move. Just getting the eyelids up was a struggle. But he no longer had the sharp pain in his arm and leg. In fact, there was no pain anywhere at all, just a weird numbness, even from the uninjured parts. It took some time before he even had the will to try to do anything. Finally, struggling to speak, he was able to get out a feeble "hey..." with barely any volume, though he'd put all his available strength into it. But he didn't need much, as the body in the chair immediately came to life. In Brad's state of mind, it really was just a blur, in fact a little sudden and a bit overwhelming. He felt his weak right hand intertwined with a very strong one. "Hi." He felt another hand gently caressing his ear. "Don't try to speak. OK?" just shake your head if I ask you things, all right? An affirmative nod. Having come out of unconscious states before, Mike knew that it would be both disorientating and frightening for Brad, especially not knowing what had happened while he was out. The trip back to reality would have to be slow. "How do you feel? Don't say much, but is it better or worse than before." Silence. Then a sound. "Better." "Any bad pain anywhere?" Again silence, then a weak, "no." After having assured himself that Brad wasn't in any particular pain at that moment, Mike just let his hands and eyes do the communicating. Moving that curly black hair off his forehead, squeezing his shoulder, bringing Brad's hand up to his mouth for a silent kiss. Mike continued to speak softly, sometimes asking questions, sometimes just talking about what had happened. He remained standing next to the bed the whole time. "Any difference in the pain now?" Mike asked. It had been about a half hour since Brad had woken up. "Yea, mostly sore rather than, um, stinging. But it feels better than being drugged up. I can feel you a lot more now, too," he said with a weak smile. "When I first woke up and you touched me, I could barely tell that someone was there." For the first time, Mike felt real pressure from Brad's hand as he returned the grip. "That feels good." Mike said. "Don't push too hard though. They'll be time later on." "I like doing it. Makes me feel like I can start to do stuff already, though it isn't much." Brad said. Then got to the question that Mike had expected any second. "By the way, when do you think I'll be out of here." Mike just chuckled. "You just got here, babe! I guess I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out when the doctor gets a chance to see you in the morning. I don't think that it will be for more than a day or so at the most. Maybe he'll even send you home right away. It'll probably depend on the leg, they might want to make sure that it's sutured OK." "Oh, good. That would be great." Brad let out a breath of air. "How's that wretch of a nurse down in the Emergency Room. Has she been up here?" "Oh, you mean nurse Coldfish?" He got another weak smile out of Brad. "I hope they keep her down there, preferably with the unconscious patients." "Did you have any trouble with them, I mean about you being in charge?" "Not really, especially after the doctor sort of stepped in. But there wasn't a lot to do, so I never really got pressed on it." "You know," Brad said, still weakly, "We need to do the legal stuff to protect ourselves, at least me. Your parents are great, but I wouldn't be surprised if mine would off me if they got the chance. I was really scared." Mike returned his hand to Brad's forehead, giving it a slight, playful knock. "I know you were scared, babe, so was I. That should be the first thing we do when you recover, getting all that straightened out." "Uh huh." Mike heard in reply. As the drugs had receded from his system, and he saw Mike, Brad had been going on a small burst of adrenaline. But now the real fatigue of the injuries and strain was starting to catch up with him. "Getting tired again?" Mike asked, as he pulled the chair close and rested his chin on the bars around the bed. He could tell that Brad was fading. "You probably are, so just rest, no need to talk. I'll just be here." Brad's squeezes to Mike's hand were getting weaker, but that was to be expected. Mike just continued to hold him and give him the other ministration that seemed to comfort him. After a while of their silent communing, he thought he had gotten Brad pretty settled down and focused on himself and his own recovery. It was difficult to get him to get him mind off of others and tend to his own needs, but for once he thought he had accomplished it, with a little help from a very traumatic day. "Pup?" "Yea?' "What time is it?" Mike had an idea of what he might be thinking, and for a moment, he thought he just might need to tell a little lie. But then he thought, `why should I lie?' There was no way that Brad could be concerned with distractions right now. Besides, it was dark out in early summer, and there was no way he could get away with fudging it too far, anyway. "It's 12:15 am. It's tomorrow already. " he joked, with a weak laugh. Mike felt a squeeze of renewed strength to his hand and pretty much knew what was coming next as Brad spoke up, in a voice surprising in it's firmness. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed already?" "I wanted to be here when you woke up...I..." Mike felt another squeeze to his hand, this one even stronger. "I know pup, I know. God, when I went to sleep I was hoping you'd be here. But I'll be OK, and now I know that your mom will be, too. I'll feel a lot better if you get home and sleep." Mike just looked at him smiling. Argument would be futile. "OK. I'll go. But I'll be back tomorrow morning , maybe even take you home. And you'll just have to live with that." "No problem." Brad said, almost in a whisper. "Oh, by the way, before you go, check it out." He nodded with his head down the bed, where Mike clearly saw a tenting of the sheet. "Jesus Christ, do you ever get soft? I wonder if you had that erection during surgery." Mike exclaimed. Brad just giggled softly. "God, I hope not. But that's not really possible, is it, I mean to have a hard-on when your unconscious?" "Jeze, I don't know. huh. Well...." Mike was thinking about his answer, as Brad saw his eyes moving side to side, the sure sign of Mikes mind processing things. "I guess you must be able to, after all, you can have a nocturnal emission and you're not conscious. I'm sure it would have outraged Nurse Coldfish." "Ha!" Brad said then winced. He was going to try to say something more, but Mike stepped in. "Hey, Babe, take it easy. No more laughing, just try to get some sleep, OK?" Mike pulled the covers around Brad as he spoke." "OK, I'll be all right, that one just got me," he said, smiling. Then he himself got his own far away look, looking at the wall beyond Mike but still speaking to him. "You know, I still get hard around you, almost all the time. Especially when you touch me. Must be chemical, your pheromones or whatever. I don't know, I can't help it." "Me neither babe. When you get back in shape, I'll let you know what you've been missing, but in the meantime you'd really better rest, OK? "OK....now, you should go. And sleep, please pup?" Mike gave him a kiss on the forehead, deliberately dragging his finger across Brad's face. "g'night, babe. I love you." "Me too. G'night." Finally getting Brad home after what turned out to be 2 days of recovery in the hospital, Mike assisted him in slowly climbing the stairs. Hanna had offered her room, but Brad was adamant about being with Mike, and her room was just too small. Besides, he felt that the quicker he got back to normal life the better things would be. Besides having a great family to come home to, he was able to minimize the collateral damage of the injury, which meant that he probably miss only about a week or so at this new job. Any money loss was a pinch for his budget, but considering the circumstances he was as lucky as he could possibly be. It especially helped that one of his nurses in the hospital knew some an administrator at Charity, and she even relayed the story of what had happened. Mrs. Kovar finally approached him in after he had settled in. Seeing how Mike was watching him like a hawk, she had asked him to give her a few minutes alone. Mike winked as he he left the room. "Brad, I want to thank you so much for what you did. You saved my life, I don't think that I could ever repay you..." "Mrs. Kovar, you don't owe me anything. It really wasn't any big deal, I mean anyone would have done it in the circumstances." "Brad, you risked your life, you could have gotten seriously hurt, much worse than what actually happened." She was incredulous at his modestly. Not that she doubted his sincerity, but his selflessness was almost overwhelming to her. He retorted, with unusual firmness and intensity. "Mrs. Kovar, I did what I did because I had too, and, like I said, lots of other people would have done the same thing. You could have really gotten hurt" She again saw the measure of this man's character. "What you've done for me is a lot more than that," he said, "When you put those pictures up of me on the wall, in your home, with your family, that was a lot more than what I ever did. You didn't have to do that, there was no emergency, no one was going to get hurt. But you did it, on your own initiative, because you thought something of me. And I'll never forget that. You've done a lot more for me than I've ever done or could ever do for you. So don't think you're in my debt at all. I'll always be in yours." She pulled the chair over from the desk and placed it next to Brad's bed, and then quietly sat down. "Bradley," she started. "When we put those pictures up, we had an emergency too. We also did it because someone could have gotten hurt. I just don't think you realized it at the time." Later that day Mike again checked in on the condition of the patient. "Doing OK? This time he just reclined on the floor next to the bed, with Tony immediately snuggling up next to him. "Yea, I think so. The leg doesn't bother me too much now, and the arm doesn't at all. I just have to be careful, especially with the leg, but I think it will all go OK." Brad put his arms behind his head. Putting some tension on his arms just to stretch a bit, his defined biceps balled up momentarily. Mike swallowed a bit, clearing his throat. He could hardly contain himself from wrapping his mouth around that big muscle, practically his favorite one. "you OK pup? Something the matter?" "No, I'm OK, I just..." then he saw Brad's guns flex again, twice this time." "you fucking cocktease!" Mike playfully ragged on him. "You know that I couldn't take advantage of the helpless." Brad just giggled. "Let's see you long you can keep up that saintly attitude, stud." He unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, undoing one button at a time. Like a striptease, only on his side. Mike's mouth just hung open. Even with his leg and arm bandaged, Brad was the most deliciously sexy guy that could possibly exist. As each square inch of his defined chest was revealed, Mike's self control was weakening. Once he'd gotten the shirt completely open, Brad just reached up and grabbed Mike by the shirt, pulling their mouths tightly together for the first time in days. The resistance was only momentary, a mere nanosecond. "I want to be careful, OK." Mike said breathlessly as he came up for air. "and you too. Let's take this easy and gentle, OK....stud?" There was a strong emphasis on that last word. "Sure, pup. I'm a little randy right now. God, it's only been a few days but it feels like years..." before the could get the next word out, Mike had re-attached their lips. "Gentle, slow, OK?" Mike said, briefly breaking the kiss. "Whatever you say....".Brad took a deep breath..:"Oh god, I missed this so bad....." He said as Mike slowly, gently, carefully pulled their bodies together. "Which box do you want?" Mike asked. "I'm not sure where to start, so just bring up any one. It's about time I sorted a couple of those out." "OK, be right back." Not one to enjoy the sedentary lifestyle, Brad had to think of things to do during this brief convalescence. The doctor ordered him to stay off of his leg for a couple days, so it was a good opportunity to finally unpack some of the boxes that he had brought from his parents' house. Mike struggled up the stairs with 3 bankers boxes, sometimes bumping into the wall as he took the stairs one at a time. It didn't help that Tony eagerly pushed him out of the way to run upstairs ahead of him. "Pup, you don't need to carry all those, I probably won't get beyond more that 2 tonight, anyway" "I know, but you know how lazy I am with the stairs, so I thought I'd kind of compress the trips." Brad just looked at him and smiled, letting out a slight breath of air in exasperation at Mike overexerting himself. "Thanks. I'll try to make it worth your while." Mike placed the three boxes next to the bed. "Which one do you want first?" Brad looked over at the stack, scrutinizing each of the boxes, then he got a quizzical look on his face. "I don't recognize that one. Do you remember where we got it from?" "Oh, you mean the white one. It came out of the garage. I thought you had asked me to get all the boxes from the back, near the lawnmower. Actually, I thought it was a little weird, `cause this was the only one there." "Oh, jeze, you know what? I think that they must have already moved all of my boxes into the kitchen , even the sports stuff from the garage. That must be what happened. I don't recognize this one at all. It's pretty old." "Sorry, babe. I guess I got the wrong one." "Not your fault at all, just a mix up." Brad said quickly. "Well, would you put it up here anyway, so I can check out what's in it? I'm not sure I should do them any favors by letting them know, but I suppose if it's important that I should give it back." "Maybe it's their Homo-Haters club costumes. They probably put them on..." "Pup!" Brad said with a laugh. "Just bring it up here, no editorials. Yet." "OK, OK, here it is" Mike said as he lifted the box up. It was the heaviest of the three, probably filled with paper, he thought to himself. Brad removed the top of the box and started rummaging through it. Sure enough, it was packed with papers, mostly a lot of old bank statements and things like that. But there was also an old newspaper folded up and stuck into the edge. It was from Norwalk, near Brad's hometown. Brad unfolded the yellow paper and put it across his lap. It first it stuck briefly to his skin because of the humidity, so he quickly brought the white cover sheet over his legs. "See anything interesting?" Mike asked. He took a seat on the bed right next to Brad, leaning slightly into him. That seemed to also be Tony's cue to leap onto the bed, until Mike shooed him away from accidentally plowing into on Brad's injured leg. "Hmmmm....not really." He turned the pages as Mike continued to peer over his shoulder. "Wow, look at how cheap the cars are!" Brad said, pointing out an advertisement. "How old is this thing?" Mike asked as he scanned the top. "wow, look, about 21 years old. Just like you! We're you cheaper back then, too?" "I've never been cheap, Pup." Brad replied, giving Mike one of his own punches to the shoulder. Brad had folded the paper back to the front page and was reading an old story about a former state governor . Brad had once done a paper about this politician for a state history class., so re-opened to the inside where the front page stories were continued. Mike, who had gotten engaged by another front page story, followed along. Brad was about to close the paper when Mike interrupted him. "Just a sec, I'm almost finished with this story." "Which one is that, the fire one?" "Yea. It's pretty sad. Some guy came home form work with fire trucks and cops all around his blazing house. He knew his girlfriend was in the house, but the cops wouldn't let anyone near the place. So this guy fought his way through the cops and ran into the house to rescue her, or at least try to. The poor guy, he collapsed as he carried his unconscious girlfriend out of the place, and she died later, too, at the hospital. "There's a picture of the guy," Brad said pointing it out at the bottom of the page. "Pretty brave, huh? , Must have really cared about her." Then he reached over with the paper to give Mike a better view. " He's kind of cute, too. huh?" "Yea, he is. Actually, you know, I think he looks a bit like you. Not as hot, of course, but a little like you. "Same hair, I guess, but other than that, I don't know, maybe a bit. But it's a pretty grainy photo." He carefully put the paper back into the box as he continued. "And besides, you know what with all the inbreeding in my county, we're probably related. But then again, I'm related to just about everyone else, too" Mike agreed as he smiled. "You know, that might be true. Aren't there like 60,000 people there, but only like 20 surnames?" "Yea that's true. By the way, did I ever tell you that my brother Ralph is actually married to a cousin," he said slyly, hoping to shock Mike. "Is that because he didn't have a sister?" Mike replied dryly. Like his mom, Mike was mental "churner" when he got into bed, one of the reason that he often had trouble sleeping. He was wondering why Brad's parents' had save this newspaper. None of the articles jumped out at him as significant, thought maybe they should have checked the weddings and obituaries to see if there was something there. Besides this, most of the stuff in the box seemed innocuous, thought they hadn't yet gone through it all very thoroughly.. Maybe it didn't mean anything, It just happened to have gotten thrown in there because it was convenient or just fell in. He shouldn't get hung up on it, he thought. There's lots of other stuff to think about, especially in relation to Brads recovery and the logistics of getting him to work while he's still on crutches. But also like his Mom, it was the time when he did some of his best thinking, having the time and space to relax and really think the day through. There was no reason that he should have recognized either of the people in the photos, yet they did for some weird reason seem familiar to him. He resolved to just noodle on it for only a moment more, and then get some sleep. Suddenly, he bolted upright in bed. `Oh my god, it can't be!' he thought to himself.