Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2001 16:55:10 -0700 (PDT) From: Michael Freeman Subject: Michael-and-Chance-11 Author's Note: Hey guys, welcome to the second season of the "Michael and Chance" Series. I have been extremely busy..so I got it out as soon as I could. Anyway, here's the Season 2 Premiere of MC: "Michael?" I have not made any musical reference in this chapter. However, I highly recommend that you listen to one of my favorite songs in the world, Alanis Morissette's "That I Would Be Good" as you read this installment (if possible). For those who don't have the song, I have included the lyrics below so you'll get an idea of what it's all about: "That I would be good" by Alanis Morissette That I would be good even if I did nothing That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down That I would be good if I got and stayed sick That I would be good even if I gained ten pounds That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth That I would be great if I was no longer queen That I would be grand if I was not all knowing That I would be loved even when I numb myself That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed That I would be loved even when I was fuming That I would be good even if I was clingy That I would be good even if I lost sanity That I would be good whether with or without you Well, enjoy! And remember to be good to yourself ;o) The Usual Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: The following story deals with male-to-male relationship and gay erotica. If this offends you or is illegal in your location and/or you are under the age of consent in your jurisdiction to read such materials, then you should exit this page now. This statement releases the author of the story and the site wherein this story is posted from any legal action or liability. All rights reserved by author. This series is not to be reproduced, distributed, altered, or posted elsewhere without the expressed consent and written permission from the author. Copyright 2001 Michael and Chance 11: "Michael?" by Michael T. Freeman 10/21/01 Previously: The harsh rain pounded down on me as I stood in the parking lot, totally dazed and wet. I can't seem to be able to breathe. My chest fell heavy and my throat dry. I was completely bewildered, emotionally overwhelmed by what has just transpired. I didn't know what to do, or where to go. But I knew that I can't be here right now. I needed to be far away from him as possible at this moment. I trembled violently as I tried to steady my hand to open the car door. I finally composed myself long enough to open the fuckin' door and started the car. I quickly backed out of the parking space and sped into the street. "I can't believe this is happening to me," I thought as I drove madly away from my apartment. I can't believe that he doesn't trust me and would accused me of sleeping with Stacy. I shook sporadically as I winded around the corner. Tears of hurt welled up in my eyes, nearly blinding me. Suddenly out of no where, a dog ran in front of the car. Michael instinctively veered to the right to avoid the canine and crashed into a telephone pole. His head plunged forward and hit the steering wheel, knocking him unconscious. The car whaled loudly as Michael's bleeding head rested on the horn of the vehicle. "Beep....Beeepp!!!!" ******************************** MC11: "Michael?" God, what is he doing? Please don't let him, God. Please! "No, Chance...please don't!"....... *********************** (St. Joseph's Hospital): "Excuse me nurse, where's my son?" Mr. Chandler demanded frantically as his wife awaited for the nurse's reply with nervous anticipation. "Just a second, sir," the busy nurse replied as she tried to put the on-coming calls on hold. "No, damn it, I want to know right now," Michael's dad half-shouted as he pounded on the counter. "Sir, calm down and I will help you!" the nurse asserted herself. "Now, what is your son's name?" "It's Michael...Michael Chandler," Mrs. Chandler interjected as she squeezed her husband's hand to calm him down. "We got a call from the hospital, telling us that he has been in an accident. Please, we would like to know where he is," Michael's mom continued as she abruptly broke into tears. "It's okay, ma'am," the nurse replied and looked at the patients' roster. "He is in the intensive care unit." "Oh, my God!" Michael's mom whaled as she broke into hysteria. She felt light-headed and weak at the knees. Mr. Chandler instinctively tightened his hold on his wife's hand and prevented her from collapsing to the floor. "How badly hurt is he?" Michael's dad asked with fears in his voice. "I don't really know, but let me page the doctor. He'll be able to give you a better idea." "Please!" Mr. Chandler replied earnestly. "Please have a seat, and he'll be right with you," the nurse suggested as she pointed to the green couches in the corner. Michael's parents reluctantly complied and sat down. "John, I can't believed this is happening; our son's in intensive care. I can't bear to lose him, not my baby." Tears trickled uncontrollably down her face. "We're NOT going to lose him. You hear me, Jacklin!" Michael's dad asserted as tears welled up in his eyes. "Everything is going to be fine. He's going to be fine." Mr. Chandler squeezed his wife's hand firmly. She nodded in desperate agreement. About ten minutes later, Michael's attending doctor greeted the distraught parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Chandler?" the fairly young looking doctor asked the two worried stricken parents. Both parents nodded as they quickly got up to greet the doctor. "Hi, I'm Dr. Dayton Baird. Sorry to have kept you waiting." "How is he doing, doctor?" both parents inquired unanimously. "As you know, he was in a car accident and hit his head on the steering wheel and sustained a concussion. Luckily, he had part of his seat belt on. The automatic seat belt cross-strap prevented him from flying through the windshield and sustaining even greater injury. There doesn't seem to be any major damage to the rest of his body. Just some cuts and bruises. He seems to be stabilizing so we have moved him out of intensive care. However, he is in a coma at this time." "Oh, my God," Mrs. Chandler cried as her husband stood there speechless. "It sounds worse than it is, Mrs. Chandler," the doctor tried to comfort her. "This sometimes happens in injury case like these when the brain received a sudden, harsh blow, thus, shocking the body. The comatose state is the body's protective and conservation mechanism. The comatose state minimizes overall bodily functions, so that all its resources are directed towards the healing of the injured area. In other words, the body is doing its job in healing Michael," Dr. Baird reassured the frightened parents. "Will he be okay, doc," Michael's dad finally spoke up. "He will come out of the coma, right?" "I wish I can say positively yes," Dr. Baird replied cautiously. "We just have to wait and see. It's a matter of time. We are doing everything that we can to make him comfortable, and we are monitoring his progress." "Can we see him now," Michael's mom asked eagerly. "We need to see him." "Yes, of course. He's down the hall in room 369." "Thank you," Mr. Chandler said as he shook the doctor's hand and rushed to Michael's room with his wife. Michael's mom broke down in tears when she saw her son lying on the sterile white hospital sheets, strapped to tubes and monitors. His head wrapped in white bandages and his neck braced. "Oh, my God, Michael. Please wake up, honey, " Michael's mom pleaded to the still body as she gently kissed her son's forehead. "Please Michael, please wake up for us. We can't bear losing you, son," Michael's dad added as tears flowed silently down his face. "We love you." Both parents, emotionally drained, sat down by their son's bed and held his hands. Michael's mom finally gave in to the mental and emotional exhaustion and rested her weary head on the side of the bed. Michael's dad slowly stood up and walked towards the door. "Where are you going, John?" "I'm going to call the kids," Michael's dad replied quietly. "And let them know what happened." "Do you think it's a good idea?" Mrs. Chandler asked. "I don't want to worry them." "No, but we can't let them not know," Mr. Chandler replied, "They deserved to know that their little brother is in the hospital. And I think I better call Stacy too and let his friends know." Mrs. Chandler nodded reluctantly as her husband exited the room. Mr. Chandler took a deep breath as he dialed Michael's older brother's, Eric, number on his cellular phone. No one was there. So he left a message on the answering machine, explaining what happened and instructed that he drive carefully to the hospital and not to rush. Then, he called his daughter, Catherine, who was also not home. Mr. Chandler left the same message and instruction. Finally, he called Stacy. After about 3 rings, he heard a voice on the other end of the line. "Hello." "Stacy?" Mr. Chandler inquired. "Yes, who is this?" . "This is Michael's father." "Oh, hi Mr. Chandler. How are you doing?" Stacy asked, "Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice over the phone." "Not too good, Stacy," Michael's dad replied gravely. "What's wrong, sir?" Stacy inquired with concerns. "It's Michael. He's...huh, he's been in an accident, and he is at St. Joseph's Hospital right now." Mr. Chandler sighed and continued to inform Stacy of his son's current condition. Worried and concerned, Stacy quickly interjected, "I will be right there, sir!" "Stacy, I want you to take a cab. I don't want you to drive when you are in an emotional state," Michael's dad instructed, "Oh, I almost forgot. Would you please call Chance and let him know what happened. I don't have his phone number. Okay, I need to get back to Michael and his mom. Would you please call him and I want you two to take your time in getting here, okay?" Mr. Chandler gave Michael's room number and hung up. ******************** Stacy immediately dialed Chance's number. After a few rings, Chance answered the phone, "Hello." "Chance?" "Yeah...Stacy?" Chance asked indifferently. "What do you want?" "Chance, it's Michael!" Stacy replied, ignoring his curt tone. "Yeah, what about Michael," Chance asked with a sudden concern in his voice. "He's been in a car accident and he is in the hospital!" Stacy finally blurted out. "Oh, my God...!" Chance uttered as he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "What happened," he asked as tears welled up in his eyes. "All I know is that he crashed into a telephone pole and is now in a coma." Stacy started to choke up. "I can't believe this is happening, oh my God." Chance shook his head as tears streamed down his face. "Where is he...which hospital." "He's at St. Joseph's Hospital," Stacy hastily replied. Suddenly it dawned on her that it may not have been wise of her to tell me him that, so she quickly added, "Chance, listen to me, call a cab, okay? You shouldn't drive when you are so emotional. I'm going to do the same since my car is in the shop." But Chance could no longer seem to hear her. His ears were buzzing. His head throbbed in pain as his heart felt heavy with guilt and worry. The room seemed to be spinning around him. Chanced closed his eyes. "Chance...Chance, are you still there?" Stacy shouted into the receiver. "Do you hear me?" Chance finally snapped out of his dizzy spell. "Yeah, I heard you, but I can't wait for a cab, Stacy...I just can't. I need to get to the hospital right away. I need to be with him," Chance replied as he trembled uncontrollably with fear. "I'm going to go to the hospital right now!" "Then pick me up too. It's on your way to the hospital...please," Stacy pleaded, hoping that he would say yes. At least she would be riding with him, and she can keep an eye on his driving. Better yet, she can drive the damn car herself, she thought. "Please, please, Chance," Stacy asked desperately. "Ok, I'll be right there," Chance finally agreed in . "Drive safely, okay?" Stacy shouted into the receiver as Chance hung up. Fifteen minutes later, Stacy heard Chance's speeding car shrieked into her driveway. "Get in," Chance instructed. "No, you moved over. I'm going to do the driving," Stacy insisted firmly, "You're going to kill us both driving like that to the hospital, now move over!" "Well, maybe, I deserved to be killed," Chance mumbled as he looked down at the car floor. "What?" Stacy asked with confusion as she pushed Chance out of the driver's seat. A guilt stricken Chance finally gave in and moved over to the passenger's side. "What do you mean, Chance?" Stacy inquired as she backed out of the drive and headed for the hospital. "What are you talking about?" "It's all my fault!" Chance exclaimed at he continued to stare at the car floor. "It's my fault that Michael got into an accident," he continued as tears begin to well up in his eyes. "What are you babbling about, Chance. I don't understand. How is Michael's accident your fault," Stacy asked, still puzzled, as she drove cautiously towards the hospital. "We got into a nasty argument this evening, and he stormed out of the apartment, and sped away in his car." Chance explained as tears trickled down his face. "It's all my fault!" "Chance, you can't blame yourself for that," Stacy tried to console him. "What were you two arguing about, anyway, that left him so angry?" "It was so stupid! I asked him if he...," Chance paused, feeling ashamed and embarrassed before continuing on, "if he slept with you last night." "WHAT???" Stacy, nearly screamed, momentarily took her eyes of the road and looked at him in disbelief. Chance cringed at her stare. "Whatever possesses you to think that?" Chance could not bear to look Stacy in the eyes as he shook sporadically in his seat. He finally composed himself enough to reply, "I saw you two kissing at String's yesterday evening and since he didn't returned home last night, well...well, I figured that he must have spend the night with you." Chance looked at Stacy briefly. Stacy sunk back in her seat as the events of yesterday flooded back into her consciousness as she realized how Chance could have misinterpreted what he saw. She now feel like shit, completely guilt ridden as she realized that she was the cause for this whole mess. If she hasn't kissed Michael and hasn't been so selfish in her needs for his company last night, Michael and Chance would have not gotten into an argument, and Michael would not have driven off in anger and crashed. "It's not your fault, Chance. It's not your fault," she repeated with a sigh as she glanced at Chance. "It's all my fault!" Chance looked at her with a confused look on his face. "What do you mean?" "Chance, you are mistaken. Michael didn't sleep with me last night in the way you thought. He did spent the night at my place to comfort me because I was such a mess yesterday when Brian broke up with me, and I was desperate for his company," Stacy shamefully admitted as she pulled the car over to the curb and turned off the engine. "He was only being a good friend and stayed with me last night. And yes, I did kissed him at the restaurant, but I was a bit drunk, and I felt really sorry for myself at that moment. And he was there, being such a great and supportive friend that I just couldn't help myself. And so I kissed him in my moment of weakness and desperate needs for comfort. And he did kissed me back, but I think only because he felt sorry for me and just wanted to comfort me. So I am SO sorry, Chance. I am so sorry for everything. It is all my fault! Chance looked at Stacy in shock as she sobbed and shook sporadically. Chance was completely speechless as he suddenly broke down in tears again as he realized that Stacy was wrong. It was his fault! It was his accusation that prompted Michael to storm out of the apartment and drove off in anger and crashed into that telephone pole. "It's my fault...it's all my fault," Chance continued to berate himself. His stomach churned with pain as the overwhelming weigh of guilt compressed his chest and heart. He couldn't seem to breathe. He doesn't want to breathe. He doesn't deserved to breathe after what he did to the only person in world that he loves and cares so much, and would die for. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. Seeing that Chance is a complete wreak, Stacy stopped crying long enough to reach over and hugged him, "It's ok, Chance. It's not your fault. It really isn't," she softly whispered. "We need to be strong for Michael, ok? He needs us to be strong right now. Let's assign blame later. Let's get to the hospital first and see how he's really doing, alright?" Chance nodded in agreement as Stacy started up the car and pulled into traffic. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the hospital and rushed to the third floor. "Stacy...Chance, I'm glad to see that you two made it safely here," Mr. Chandler said as he greeted the two youngers. Tears welled up in Chance's eyes when he saw Michael lying there, unconscious with tubes up his noses and arms, attached to hospital's monitors. Michael's dad walked up to Chance and put his hand on Chance's shoulder, trying to console him, "It's ok, son. It's alright." "It's not ok, sir," Chance paused as tears trickled down his face, "it's all..." "Chance, don't. Don't do this to yourself," Stacy quickly protested. But Chance was not listening. "It's all my fault, Mr. Chandler," Chance confessed. "I did this to Michael." Chance averted Michael's dad's eyes. Both parents looked at each other in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?" Mrs. Chandler interrupted. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Chandler," Chance explained in between tears, "Michael and I had a nasty argument this evening, and he...he drove of mad." "WHAT!" Mrs. Chandler exclaimed with anger in her voice, "How could you have let him drive off like that? How could you, Chance?" Chance nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the fire in Michael's mom's eyes. He just wanted to shrivel up and disappeared at that moment for causing so much pain to Michael's parents. Chance couldn't hold back the tears. They came pouring out. But Michael's mom continued her verbal assault, "I have always KNOWN that you were no good for my son," she blasted at a shaken and frightened Chance. "That's enough, Jacklin!" Mr. Chander finally spoke up and scolded his wife, "That's quite enough." But the damage was done. That was the final blow. It hit Chance like a speeding bullet through his heart and soul. He was crushed, devastated. He stood there speechless, trembling violently. "I'm so....so soorry, ma'am," he managed to utter as he looked at the weary parents and then to his beloved Michael. "I'm so sorry, angel," Chance whispered and bolted for the door. Stacy quickly chased after him. "Chance, wait, please..." she yelled, "She didn't mean that!" But Chance was not listening. He no longer cared. He could no longer be in the same room with Michael's parents. He has to get away. He has to get out of here. As he exited the building, the chilly night air hit him like a brick wall, sending chills down his spine. He quickly dashed for his car as he heard the distant plead of Stacy approaching him fast. He madly opened his car door, hopped in, and sped away, wiping tears from his eyes as Stacy looked on hopelessly. Chance made record time in getting back to his apartment. No one was home. The apartment was pitch black. He fumbled for the light switch as he entered the apartment and slammed the door shut. He collapsed onto the sofa as he put his hands to his face, trying desperately to hold back the tears, but it was no use. They gushed out like Old Faithful. He wept uncontrollably as his body threw itself into spasm. It was too much. The tragic events of the last 24 hours rushed back to him like a bullet train. His false accusation. The argument. Michael's accident. The unbearable anger in Michael's mom's eyes. It was too much. His head felt like lead, throbbing with pain. His chest constricted with guilt. His throat choked with dryness as the salty taste of tears leaked into his mouth. His stomach churned with anxiety. He couldn't seem to breathe or think. He felt nauseated. The emotional and mental pain was excruciating! It was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. He just want it all to end. To stop! With that singular thought, Chance got up from the sofa, and walked towards the balcony. He slowly opened the sliding, glass door. The blast of chill, night air hit his body, but Chance didn't flinch. He didn't even feel the chill. He was numb inside. Chance proceeded straight to the balcony rail and without hesitation, step over the railing, and sat himself fearlessly down on the top rail with both feet resting on the lower railing while his hands griped the upper railing on both side. He looked up at the night sky. The grey, threatening clouds of hours past have dissipated to reveal a deep velvet blue sky. A canvas of stars shone down on him. "They looked so peaceful hanging up there," Chance thought to himself. "Without any pain or heartache. Without any pain and heartache," he chanted in his mind . He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ready to set himself free of the pain and heartache. And just as Chance was about to end it all, to let go of all his pain and misery, he heard the faint, familiar voice of his beloved Michael behind him, "No, Chance...please don't!" Startled by the voice, Chance opened his eyes and instinctively looked over his right shoulder to see a shimmering, ghostly figure of his beautiful Michael standing behind him with arms outreached. Chance, without thinking, let go of his right grip and reached for the radiant figure, causing him to lose balance. His body reflectively reacted as his left hand tightened its grip on the railing as he dangled helplessly from 10 stories above ground. "Michael?!!" Chance cried out as he looked up to balcony. But no one was in sight. A very bewildered and distressed Chance shouted hysterically for help as he hung on for dear life. To be continued Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think about this second season's premiere installment. Ok, take care guys! Send your email to mf900@yahoo.com