Date: Sat, 24 Feb 2018 07:16:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: Don Cornelius <doncornelius69 (at) yahoo.com>
Subject: We Will Remember Them Chapter 20

This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters are real and any
similarities between this story and/or any characters in it and real life
is purely coincidental.

THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF CONSENSUAL SEXUAL ACTS BETWEEN
TEENAGE MALES. IT IS INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY! IF YOU FIND THIS
TYPE OF MATERIAL OFFENSIVE, OR IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, OR UNDER THE LEGAL AGE
TO VIEW SUCH MATERIAL THEN PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.

The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original
story.  You may not publish it or any part of it without explicit
authorization from me.

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Authors note – I know from some of the mail I've received that some of
you are pretty close to a tragedy of your own. This chapter will likely be
pretty emotional for those of you who have lost someone close so take a
moment before you read further.


I slowly came back to life and all I could hear was Toby's voice.

"Rob are you OK?" he asked, softly but with real insistence and, when I
heard him say it the second time, I realized with a growing sense of panic.

"Yeah, babe. I think so."

Mark was at the window, screaming at us. I tried opening the door but it
was stuck.

"I called 911. Just sit tight! Don't move, you don't know how badly you're
hurt and you could make it worse!"

I looked over at Toby who was staring straight ahead.

"Babe, are you OK?"

He cut his eyes to me, "Yeah, but my neck is kind of tweaked."

I tried to shift, but the tensioner in the seat belt was still activated
and I had to release the belt before I could move to crawl over to him. As
soon as I tried, I felt a shooting pain in my leg and sat back in the seat
with a sharp intake of breath.

"What's wrong?" Toby asked, speaking a little slower than before.

"I think my leg is broken. I tried to move and it hurt like a
motherfucker."

"Rob... I need you to listen to me... "

"Toby," I said, my eyes filling with tears as I realized what he was
thinking, "Please just hang on babe. Mark says help is coming."

"I'm trying, but just in case I need you to do something for me. If
anything happens to me, tell my parents I love them and that I have loved
every second of the life they gave me. Tell Reese and Angie they were the
best brother and sister I could have asked for..."

"Toby, please stop..." I moaned out, crying. I wasn't stupid, I knew
something was desperately wrong.

"Tell Mark and Jack I love them and that they were the best friends in the
world. Tell them to help each other out and look out for Reese and Angie."
He took ragged breath before he continued. "Rob, I meant every thing I've
ever told you. I love you so much it hurts. Please don't ever forget that
and remember that you are my heart and my soul, now and forever. If
anything happens to me, Jack will help you..."

Right then they started to cut away the door and the sound of wrenching
metal was insane. I fought the pain in my leg and dragged myself up with my
arms and shifted so I could face Toby, only to see the color completely
drained from his face. Then I saw his neck which had been opened by a piece
of metal that created a nasty gash, from which a steady stream of blood was
being produced, an obvious pulse with every weakening beat of his heart.

I realized quickly he was bleeding out, fast, and I started to scream in
panic as they pulled off the door, and pulled me out of the car. It's
impossible to describe the horror and pain of seeing someones life end
right before your eyes. The dread of knowing there's nothing you can do
absolutely cuts you to the core. The most vital person I knew, who just
moments before was holding my hand and laughing, was dying and I couldn't
save him.

"Help him," I screamed at the EMTs. "He's got a neck wound and he's
bleeding out! PLEASE!"

"We will, but now we need you to calm down. We're going to put you on a
stretcher, please stay still."

Once they got me strapped in, they went over my condition. I felt them cut
open my jeans and confirm what I already knew, that I had a broken leg and
the bone had broken the skin. I started to twist to look back and saw
another EMT getting out of the car from the passenger side, shaking his
head as he looked at another one. Then I saw Toby, completely still and I
screamed.

They kept trying to calm me down but I just kept screaming at them to help
him. Seal up the wound, pump him full of blood and resuscitate. DO
SOMETHING.

"Oh my God, you have to help him! TOBY," I screamed at him, reaching my
hand out I tried to twist on the stretcher.

"We gotta get him sedated and on a line," I heard one of the EMTs
say. "Sir, do you know your blood type?"

"O negative," I said, crying. "Please tell me he's going to be OK?"

I saw darkness in the eyes of the EMT, "I don't know yet, I have to get you
stabilized and on your way before I can check him."

As I felt the stab of the needle and faded out, the last thing I saw was
the black sky above me with a few clouds lit by the lights of the city.

That was the last thing I remembered from that night. When I got to the
hospital they did a quick xray and hauled me into surgery. They did
stabilize me and got my leg patched, but the MRI was bad. I had cracked
ribs and all kinds of fascia torn from my neck on down, not to mention a
nasty head wound and swelling. It was a miracle I didn't have more problems
and internal bleeding.

Toby, poor sweet Toby, had caught a piece of metal that had broken loose
from the brush guard of the truck that hit us. It doesn't help any to know,
but he was gone the moment the accident occurred. He knew it, which is why
he told me what he did. In those last few moments of life, he was thinking
about telling others how he felt through the one person who was with him
while he was dying.

Everything else from that night, and the next couple of weeks, I'm writing
from what I was told by my family and friends.

As soon as they had me loaded, Mark asked where they were taking me and
called Josh. He and Lane had just left a movie at the Inwood and were about
to get something to eat when he got the call.

"Hey Mark, what's up?" Josh asked, thinking nothing was wrong.

Mark was clearly crying, "Dude, I hate to do this but Toby and Rob were in
an accident. It's bad. I don't think Toby is going to make it, and they
just tore off with Rob in the back of an ambulance to Presbyterian. Can you
get there?"

"Oh my God," Lane said.

"Yeah, I'm on my way. Thanks, Mark."

Lane started to cry and Josh had to keep him calm, reminding him they
didn't know what was going on. They rushed into the emergency entrance and
asked about me. He had to explain he was my stepbrother before they'd tell
him anything, not that they had much information. I was hurt badly, they
were going to have to operate on my leg to stop the bleeding and set the
bone. I was under pretty heavy sedation and would remain that way. A doctor
would come out to talk as soon as they had me stable.

Lane and Josh just sat there in the ER, Lane trying to hold it together for
a despondent Josh who just sat there looking ahead. Neither of them even
thought to call my mother or Neil, they were in limbo, unable to do much of
anything but sit there, holding onto hope and praying.

30 minutes later my father walked in with Cat and immediately saw Josh.

"Josh, what are you doing here?" he asked.

Josh got his back up, "He's my brother, MISTER Hallstrom," he spit out,
then, "Mark called me. He witnessed the accident and told me where he was."

My father relaxed, "Son, I didn't mean anything by the question, I was just
surprised."

This caught Josh off guard and he relaxed a bit, "He's in surgery now. They
said a doctor would be out to talk to us as soon as he was stable."

Cat ran over to hug Josh and my father asked, "Please watch her for a
second? I'm going to let them know I'm here. Have you talked to Bethany
yet?"

Josh's eyes went wide as he was holding onto Cat. "No, sir. I'm sorry, I've
just been kind of..."

My father smiled, "It's OK, Josh. You're in shock. I'll take care of it."

My father went to the nurses station while Josh and my sister sat
down. Mark wandered in at that point and came over with Marcy, the girl he
was out with that night.

Mark asked how I was, and Josh told him, then asked about Toby. Mark just
bent over in the seat and started to cry as Marcy, tears streaming down her
face, just looked at Josh and shook her head.

My father came back and briefly talked to Mark who told him tearfully that
Toby didn't make it. Then he looked back at Josh. Josh told me later it was
like all the wind had been knocked out of my father. He'd been told there'd
been an accident and he'd assumed it wasn't that bad, maybe that the two of
were bruised and in need of a ride. He had no idea how bad it was.

"I'm going to call his mother," he told him through teary eyes and then
turned to walk out of the waiting room.

My mother and Neil were at a party when my mother felt her purse
vibrate. She grabbed it only to see a missed call from my father and then a
text... please call urgent.

She stepped away from the people with whom she was talking and called my
father back.  "Ed, what's wrong?" she asked when he picked up.

My father's voice was shaky, something that rarely happens. My mother told
me it sent a chill down her spine to hear him like that.

"Toby and Rob were in an accident..."

"Are they OK?"

"No. Rob's in surgery right now. They're trying to get him stable and all
they could tell me was that he had a broken leg and was bleeding
badly. I'll know more when the doctor comes out."

"What about Toby?" she asked.

He stifled a sob, "I'm not sure but from what Mark told me, he's gone."

My mother screamed, "Oh, God no!" Which brought Neil running to her.

"Bethany, just get to Dallas as fast as you can. We're at
Presbyterian. I'll call as soon as I know more. I'm going to go back in and
see if I can get some more information."

"Thank you, Ed. Please do whatever you can."

Neil got to her, concerned,and bent down so he could hear her better as she
whispered, "Toby and Rob were in an accident. Toby didn't make it, Rob is
seriously injured. How fast can we get back to Dallas?"

"Fast. Let's go."

They ran into one of the hosts on their way out and explained their hurried
departure. By the time they got to the car, Neil had his pilot on the line
and was telling him to get to Aspen now. They drove to the house, packed,
and made their way to the airport to wait.

Meanwhile, back in Dallas, the police showed up and asked for my
father. Toby's parents walked in, sobbing, and my father walked over to hug
them. He then introduced them to the officer. The woman who hit us had died
instantly. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt and the airbag in her truck
apparently didn't deploy properly. He then took the Martin's to identify
Toby and my father was left to sit and wait with the others.

Three hours later a very tired looking surgeon came out and asked for the
family of Rob Hallstrom. My father got up walked over, with Cat and Josh
immediately behind him.

My father introduced himself, then Cat and Josh.

"Mr. Hallstrom, your son has been injured pretty badly. We have sealed the
ruptured artery in his leg, set the bone, and closed up the wound. I've had
him taken to imaging for an MRI to see what else we're dealing with since
he's having blood pressure issues which could indicate internal
bleeding. We should know more in about 30 minutes."

"Is he going to be OK?" My father asked, trying to be as calm as possible.

"Sir, I won't know more until we get those images back. If the leg is all
we have to deal with, he's going to be fine but we don't know yet. I know
this is hard, but please be patient. We're doing everything we can."

"Thank you, we'll be waiting." When Josh told me about this conversation, I
kind of laughed at the image of my father talking to the doctor who'd just
saved my life as if he worked for him.

The doctor nodded, then walked back.

My mother was just taking off at that point and my father called her to let
her know the situation. 40 minutes later the doctor came back and the news
was not good. There was some internal bleeding but it looked relatively
minor. There was also a ton of tissue damage from the severity of the
impact. Despite wearing my seatbelt and the airbags in the car, I was
pretty torn up and had some swelling in my head, which probably explains
why I lost consciousness immediately after the accident.

"We're going to put him into ICU and have another round of MRIs done in a
few hours to check on the bleeding. If it's still an issue, we'll have to
take care of it. We're hoping it will stop on it's own."

"When can we see him?" Josh asked.

"They should be getting him into a bay right now. I'd give them about 30
minutes then it's going to be one at a time."

My father cleared his throat and stuck out his hand,"Thank you, doctor, for
everything you've done."

It's really strange for me to write this part because while all this is
going on, I was out cold. They still hadn't made the decision to put me
into a coma, that would come a few hours later. No, I was still under
sedation since they didn't know what they might have to do next and thought
it would be better to keep me under for a few hours rather than let me
experience the pain. I am eternally grateful to the professionals at
Presbyterian who made that decision. When they brought me out of the coma,
I was still sore and I can't imagine what it would have been like early
that Sunday morning.

They started to filter in about 3 that morning. My father, then Cat, then
Josh. Lane couldn't bear it after Josh told him how I looked and Mark had
already left. Jack showed up about an hour later looking, from what Josh
said, like he'd been crying non-stop. He came in and sat with me and just
cried, from what he told me later on. Seeing me the way I was, and knowing
Toby was gone, just broke him.

My mother and Neil showed up at 5. After they saw me they all sat down and
waited. At one point my mother took Josh aside and asked him about the ring
she'd noticed me wearing. Josh broke down as he told her Toby had asked me
to marry him on Tuesday and that we were waiting to tell her and Neil when
they got back. My mother cried like a baby as Josh hugged her.

At 6 that morning, they took me back to imaging and the next MRIs showed
that the bleeding was stable from the earlier pictures. The doctor decided
to be cautious and keep me under for another 6 hours, but the results were
encouraging. He told everyone it would be a good idea to regroup around 1.

Everyone split off, with my father taking Cat back to our house and my
mother, Neil, and Josh going to the condo. They'd sent texts while they'd
been waiting and by that point, people were waking up. Willy was the first
to call Josh. He broke down and told him he would be up with 'the guys' in
a few hours. Josh made him promise not to get there before 2.

Josh got a little sleep but Lane told me later he mostly tossed and turned
in bed, alternatively sleeping, then waking up with a start only to cry for
a little while. He finally got back out of bed around 11 and called Bruce,
who'd booked at flight and was already at John Wayne getting ready to
board.

Most of my father's family was in shock and Richard was on his way by that
point, deciding he would play things by ear as far as the return trip. Cat
told me later that MoMo looked about as distraught as she'd ever seen. It
was the same with my mother's parents. My grandfather was trying to be calm
but both mother and Cat could tell he wasn't himself.

The images from noon showed a slight reduction in the bleeding which meant
they wouldn't have to open me back up. It was the first really good sign
they'd had and they decided to move me to a regular room since I was
stable.

At one, the doctor met with my father and mother, who told them things
looked much better than they had when they did the first round of
scans. But, there was a catch...

"We'd like your permission to put him into an induced coma..." the doctor
said.

My father was having none of it, "No, absolutely not!"

"Ed, just listen," my mother said. Then, to the doctor, "There's a reason
you want to do this, isn't there?"

"Mr. Hallstrom, Mrs. Hastings, your son is going to be a tremendous amount
of pain for the next few weeks while his body heals. The leg alone probably
wouldn't be enough, but there's the internal bleeding which needs time to
clear, broken and bruised ribs, and torn up soft tissue throughout his
body. It's a miracle his spine is intact, to be honest with you, given the
nature of the accident. Even if the pain weren't a factor, all of the
injuries will heal much faster if he's not moving around trying to get
comfortable.

We can give him drugs to manage the pain, but he's still going to be
miserable. This way, when we bring him out, he's going to be much better
able to deal with the residual pain as his injuries heal and not be
uncomfortable."

My father started to speak and my mother grabbed his arm, tightly, stopping
him.

"What's the risk he might not come back out of this induced coma?"

"The trauma to his brain is relatively minor, mostly swelling. We don't see
any indication at this point he's going to lose any function. It's
basically like putting him under general anesthesia for surgery, just a
very long one. We're going to be monitoring him throughout and the coma
will only continue if we keep administering the drugs. If a problem arises,
we can cut them off and he'll regain consciousness on his own. There are
risks, we're going intubate and there could be secondary
infections. However, my recommendation is that this is the best way forward
for him at this point."

"Do it," my mother said. The doctor, whose name was Thomas Graham, looked
at my father who just nodded. They signed the forms for the treatment and
then the doctor switched me from the sedatives I'd been on and I was down
for the count.

For the next two weeks, I stayed immobilized in my bed for the most part.

During that time, my mother basically lived at Presbyterian. She'd go back
to the condo, shower and change, then come right back to the hospital. At
one point Neil tried persuading her to get some sleep in a real bed and she
screamed at him to leave her alone, that there was no way she was leaving
her baby. Josh took his father outside and he broke down because he was
incapable of doing the only thing he wanted to do, comfort his wife.

Throughout that week people kept showing up at the Martin's with notes,
flowers, food... anything and everything just to pay their respects. I
think it helped Linda and David deal with the loss to see how much he was
loved by so many. Mark and Jack both spent a lot of time there, doing
whatever they could to make things easier and dealing with some of the
people who wanted to pay their respects. They also helped David with the
funeral, arranging pall bearers which quickly turned into 'Who Toby liked
best' to move the actual casket and then everyone else would be honorary.

My father and Cat tried to go on about things as well as they could,
stopping by the hospital in the morning then spending most evenings
there. My sister, normally unfazed, was pretty shook up and had problems
with nightmares. She freaked out at one point on my grandfather who just
let her cry it out in the waiting room away from everyone else. She told me
months later in a moment of shame it had nothing to do with Toby, it was
how close she'd been to losing me. I tried explaining to her that I was
never really close to death, just banged up, but she wasn't having any of
it. While I wasn't bleeding as badly as Toby, I'd been a lot closer to
death than I wanted to even think about.

That Saturday after the accident they had Toby's funeral.

The following Thursday the doctors told my parents that things looked good
and they were going to take me out of the coma by cutting the drugs back on
Sunday.

"It'll take a while for them to work through his system, but he should wake
up Sunday afternoon."

They were relieved and told people, which led to more people being told and
as things went round and round, plans were made to be there for me coming
back to reality. Much of this was unbeknownst to my parents who Dr. Graham
started prepping with what to expect Saturday night as they administered
the first of the graduated doses.

Dr. Graham, who my mother said was one of the most patient people she'd
ever met (and whom her friend, Dr. Nelson, spoke of very highly) told my
parents it would take time after I woke for me to really be responsive. I'd
be groggy and a little irritable and they had to remember that, to me, it
would still be that horrible night. They wanted to limit the number of
people in the room to family, familiar faces, so I wouldn't feel
overwhelmed. Dr. Graham had consulted with Dr. Arya and was fully aware of
the GAD so he was trying to manage my treatment with that in mind.

By noon on Sunday I was starting to show some signs of life. I remember
having a dream about playing with Henry and Dan, one of those impossible
things that dreams make so real. Then one about the accident. About 530
that afternoon I started to open my eyes.

I awoke slowly, my eyes not really wanting to focus. I didn't hear anything
but I turned my head to the right and saw a blurry Cat standing there. I
smiled at her.

"Oh, Cat. I had the worst dream..." and then I heard one of the machines
beep. I looked over at it, then around the room and finally saw all the
people there, including the Martins.

Toby's parents, both of whom looked like they'd been crying. Everyone
looked like they'd been crying. My father, my mother, Neil, Josh, Lane,
Cat, Richard... everyone. And at that point I cracked as reality set back
in.

It wasn't a dream, it was all real, the accident happened and Toby was
gone.

"Oh, God, NO!" I screamed, letting go of all the grief and pain in one
long, piercing cry that completely betrayed the loss I felt. I was
hollow. Even after my voice gave out, I continued to howl silently.

The nurses came rushing back in, trying to calm me down but I kept saying
in a loud whisper, "He's gone, he's gone..." and crying, completely
inconsolable. One of the staff doctors finally showed up and knocked me
back out. All I could do was lay back, still crying, as I fell back to
sleep.

Jack was down the hall in the waiting room sitting with Ethan, Willy, and a
bunch of people from Ouichita and Plano, all of whom were waiting to come
see me. They all started crying when they heard that scream. They'd hoped
to see me and let me know how happy they were I was getting
better. Instead, they had a ringside seat to my realization that I'd lost
the person I loved.

I woke up early the next morning, feeling an overwhelming sense of loss,
but I was unable to express it because at the moment I was dry. I rolled my
head and found my mother sleeping in the recliner next to the bed with a
blanket over her. On the love seat, Josh and Lane were sleeping, quite
soundly from the soft snoring coming from Josh.

I knew it was all real. This was my life and I was in it. Toby was gone and
I was in the hospital with a broken leg, though as I shifted slightly in
the bed I realized it wasn't just a broken leg. I stared up at the ceiling
and let the loss sink in, feeling for all the world like everything was
over. Like something had been severed from me. I wanted to cry, but the
tears wouldn't come. Instead, I just kept staring up, praying for God to
please give me just another few minutes with him to say goodbye without
sirens and someone trying to pull me out of the damn car. Just a moment, to
touch him and kiss him once more; To feel him and smell him before he was
gone.

I'd been up for an hour maybe when Josh shifted and I turned my head to
watch him gently move Lane so he could get up. He walked into the bathroom
and peed, then came back out and finally noticed me awake. Relief washed
over his face as he walked over to me, bending down and gently hugging
me. He pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed, tears welling up in his
eyes.

"I know there's nothing I can say," he started softly, "that's going to
make any of this any better. But I'm so glad you're alive and safe. It's
selfish, but I can't help it."

"I know, but I feel like a part of me is gone and right now I don't know
how I'm going to go on."

Josh cleared his throat, "You're going to find a way. You need time to
grieve and it's not going to be easy." His face contorted into a mix of
pain and sadness. "But no matter what, there are so many people who love
you, care about you, and who will help you any way you need. Not just at
home, but here. You're going to get through this, just please don't give
up. Please, promise me?"

I nodded my head as the tears finally started to fall. We sat there like
that for another fifteen minutes or so before my mother stirred and looked
over at us. She smiled at me with tears in her eyes, then got up and walked
over to take Josh's place.

"I'm so sorry," she said, pushing my hair off my forehead. "I love you so
much and I'd have done anything to keep you from going through this."

"I know, mom. I know..."

We sat there in silence, just the sound of the machines monitoring keeping
us company. Then it occurred to me, saying goodbye.

"Mom, have the Martin's decided when to have the funeral?" I asked, the
desperation clear in my voice. If I couldn't see him one more time alive,
then at least I would be able to at his funeral.

More tears fell from my mother's eyes. "Sugar, you've been in a coma about
two weeks. They've already had the funeral."

And like that, the hope I'd had, of saying goodbye, was gone. She told me
later it was the moment when she got really scared, that me hearing her
words caused something to change in my eyes, like a light going out.

My throat was suddenly dry and all I could manage was, "OK". We sat there
for another few minutes before the nurses came in with breakfast. I wasn't
really hungry at first but after the first few bites I realized I was
starving. Luckily, I didn't make myself sick, I'm sure because at that
point the drugs were pretty well out of my system.

My father and sister came in a little while later and I hugged them
both. They couldn't stay long, since Cat had school, but it was good to see
them without being overwhelmed by the realization that things had
changed. My father brought my computer from the house and a charger for my
phone. I just asked him to put them on a table in the room as they were the
last things I wanted to deal with.

Doctor Graham came in around 930 and talked to me, assessing if I was still
a functional human being. I passed, but it was clear I was far from
comfortable. He wanted to run another scan in the afternoon after they took
the catheter out and he told me they'd be in to bring me some crutches so I
could make my way to the bathroom without hopping.

Josh and Lane left to head back to Ouichita after lunch, leaving just me
and mother for the afternoon. Occasionally, I'd cry and we'd talk about
it. Dr. Arya had already told me he'd clear some time the next day and then
I'd keep my regular appointment on Thursday. He also thought I should talk
to a specialist about grief, someone who also had some experience with
survivors guilt and PTSD. Mother and I talked about it and I told her, flat
out, I didn't have survivors guilt. I just basically felt kind of hollow
inside, like a piece of me had been taken out. She told me it would come
back, but that I needed time to grieve. I knew she was right from dealing
with Charlies death.

Jack came by about 430 and brought me school work. Mother had already
checked with attendance and I was OK there as long as I was back in class
this week. Any more absences, and I'd have to go to alternative school on
Saturdays in order to not have to repeat the 10th grade, which I was
absolutely not going to do.

Jack was, well, it's hard to explain. Mother thanked him for coming by,
then excused herself to go 'get some coffee', I was sure so we could
talk. He walked me through the assignment stuff and what I'd missed and I
finally told him to sit down on the edge of the bed and take a breath,
which he did.

The way he sat down was, frankly, kind of comical. He was so careful as he
lowered himself to the bed, it was like he expected me to cry out in pain
because of something he did inadvertently. I wanted to scream 'I'm fucking
hurt, not made of glass' but thought better of it.

I reached out for him and he sniffed a bit, avoiding my eyes.

"Jack, look at me, will you?" I asked.

He just shook his head, "If I do that I'm going to break down." He paused,
looking at his hands, "It's been a tough two weeks and I'm doing really
well to hold it all together for the Martins and everyone else. I knew this
was going to be tough, but being here with you is so much harder. If I look
at you right now it's just going to crush me, OK?"

"Yeah, it's fine. And I guess I don't need to ask how you're holding up."

He snorted at that, then wiped at his eyes.

"Listen, there's something I need to tell you and I'm going to cry when I
do it, but I'm not trying to upset you. Toby asked me to deliver some
messages when we were in the car... he knew before I did he wasn't going to
make it. He told me to tell you and Mark you were the best friends..."

"Please stop..."

"NO!" I shouted, then grabbed his arm as tightly as I could and he turned
his face, finally, and focused his bloodshot eyes on me. "Toby's first
thought after the accident was if I was OK and his next, after realizing he
might not make it, was to give me messages for others. His last thoughts
were to tell those closest to him how he felt and I'm not going to
disrespect him by keeping that to myself, no matter how much it may hurt to
hear. Do you get it?"

He nodded, then took a deep breath, "Go on."

"He wanted me to tell you he loved you and to thank you for being his best
friend. He knew he was lucky to have you in his life and he wanted you to
never forget that. He also wanted you and Mark to look out for Reese and
Angie."

Jack at that point covered his eyes and slumped forward, weeping. I
couldn't do much of anything but comfort him. It went on for a while and
when my mother appeared at the door, I shook my head at her silently and
she disappeared.

Eventually he wound down and looked back at me.

"Thank you for the message."

I sighed, "You're welcome. I know this is tough as hell, but you needed to
know how important you were to him."

He nodded back to me, then stood up.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

I met his red eyes with my own, "Not right now, no. But please don't worry,
OK? It's going to take some time."

He nodded, then gave me a small smile.

Tuesday I woke up alone for which I was thankful. I had insisted mother go
to the condo and sleep. She'd been there almost the entire time I'd been
asleep and she needed some time in a real bed. My father and Cat beat her
to the hospital that morning.

Both of them were somber as they came in, Cat gave me a hug and father sat
on the edge of the bed, bring his rough hand up to the back of my head.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked in a voice that was gravely, like he
had a sinus infection. I knew it was from crying, something my father just
did not do.

"Yeah, Dad, I am. I know I've got a long road ahead, but I know I'm going
to be OK." I paused, my eyes starting to tear up, "I know I'm going to
break down and hurt sometimes, so please just let me especially when I get
home. It's going to be awhile before I'm myself again."

I asked Cat how Reese was doing and she told me he was handling things as
well as you'd expect. She, for her part, was protecting him from people and
just letting him work through the pain and loss. I told her it was probably
a good idea, just make sure he knew she was there.

Mother came in as they were leaving, noticeably better than the night
before.

About 10am Arya came in with Dr. Foster, the PTSD specialist. My mother
left to go to the waiting area while we talked. I told them how I was
feeling (like that was a shock) and he asked if I'd had any issues
sleeping. I told him the truth, I'd only fallen asleep once in the last two
weeks so I didn't know yet. He went ahead and wrote me a small prescription
for Ambien. Foster and I talked a little about what to expect as time went
on.

"What I'm most concerned about are possible issues with PTSD that may be
amplified by your GAD. Your normal triggers likely won't upset you too
much, it'll be something weird. For some people, the sound of sirens can be
bells, horns, something in a piece of music, anything high pitched and
melodic that can trigger an event. Or it might be bumping into
something. However it manifests, you need to call me immediately and we can
work on treatment so that you can get a handle on things internally."

"What if I don't have any PTSD? What if nothing sets me off?"

She smiled, "Then that would be extremely good news."

Arya spoke up, "We just want to help you through what's going to be a
really stressful time in your life. If there's anything you notice out of
the ordinary, let us know so we can help you deal with it. It's just like
your regular therapy, no detail is too small or ridiculous to be mentioned,
and it's not just about normal stuff. Processing the grief you're feeling,
even now, is going to be hard..."

"I know, Dr. Arya. This isn't the first time I've lost someone."

Early that afternoon, I was working on some school work when I heard a
knock and looked up to see Roger Jenkins, Charlie's uncle, standing at the
door to my room.

"Roger! What are you doing here?"

"Well, little man, I heard about your accident and decided to come up today
to see how you were doing.  I brought someone with me," he said, moving
into my room so that Charlie's grandmother could come in. She quickly made
her way to the side of my bed and leaned in to hug me.

"Mercy me, boy, you've grown since I saw you in November!"

I started to tear up, "Yeah, Toby..."

She reached over to hug me again as I cried.

"I've never seen someone so in love as that boy was with you. I told your
momma how lucky you were to have found someone like that so early in life."
She'd met Toby at Neil and my mother's anniversary party and instantly fell
in love with him. The feeling was very mutual.

I managed to get out, "He liked you a lot, Mrs. Jenkins."

"I want you to listen to me, Rob. I know this hurts worse than anything,
but God has a plan for you. Some people, like Charlie and Toby, aren't with
us nearly long enough and we have to carry on no matter how much we miss
them. It helps me to know that I'll see him again when I pass on and I know
you'll see Toby again as well. Just hold what you had in your heart and
don't ever forget it."

"Yes ma'am, I promise."

Roger cleared his throat at that point, "So when are they letting you out
of here?"

I wiped at my eyes, "I think the tomorrow afternoon, but I'm not sure."

Roger looked at his watch, "Momma, we need to get going if we're going to
beat traffic back to Ouichita."

"Ok, son," then, looking at me, "I'm only a phone call away when you need
me."

And Roger said, "So am I. Don't forget there are a lot of people who love
you and are here for you."

"Thank you both."

And they were gone leaving me, frankly, a little angry. I was glad for the
visit and I still loved them, but like so many of the people who'd come to
see me, they had offered advice which I didn't need or want. I was so wound
up and angry at everything (God, the universe, the morning nurse, you name
it) that even someone paying me a visit to check and see how I was doing
could piss me off. I knew it was wrong and I behaved well in front of them,
but inside I was a cauldron of red hot bile. I knew that was something I
needed to talk to Arya about and I made a mental note to bring it up on
Thursday.

Late that afternoon, the Martins came by. This was the visit I was dreading
more than anything because I still had a message to deliver to all of them
and I just flat out didn't have the strength. My interaction with Jack the
previous day had worn me out and I knew the conversation with them would be
orders of magnitude worse.

Linda, David, Reese, and Angie came in and I immediately teared up. Angie
came over and gave me a big hug, forgetting as only a kid can about the
bruised ribs. They told me how happy they were that I was going to be ok
and that they still considered me family, no matter what. I started to cry,
telling them I felt the same way.

They were all curious about how I was feeling, so I told them I was still
pretty sore, but not in an unbelievable amount of pain. It was the kind of
conversation I'd been having with everyone who stopped by, "I'm better than
I was when they brought me in, but still not 100%, etc." It's not that
they're not genuine, it's the problem of What Do You Say? What questions do
you ask when you're concerned about someone for whom you care without
getting overly intrusive. It's all well meaning, but it's really tiring.

Eventually Linda ushered them out, telling them she needed to speak to me
alone. She came over once the door was closed and sat on the edge of my
bed.

"I wanted to talk to you about the funeral," she said, after taking a deep
breath.

"Oh, Linda...."

"No, I can't imagine how upset you were with me and I wanted to
explain. Your mother told me how you reacted when she told you we'd already
had the funeral, and I just feel awful because I wasn't able to hold out
and give you a chance to say good bye," she finished, choking out the last
few words.

"It's OK, I understand they didn't know when they were going to bring me
out and I know y'all had a tough decision to make."

"Thank you," she said, as she pulled a DVD from her purse. "I know this
doesn't make up for it, and I know it could be considered kind of ghoulish,
but I had it recorded for you. I thought, I don't know, that it might help
in some weird way to see how wonderful everyone was, especially Josh."

"Josh?"

"He asked if he could speak for you and I told him it would be fine."

We talked a little more and she told me I needed to come by the house to
pick up some things she'd set aside for me. At one point, as she was
holding my hand, she felt the ring and started to sob. She told me she'd
made sure he was buried wearing it, which of course sent me really over the
edge. It was gut wrenching being with this wonderful woman, whose son I
loved more than my own life, but at that moment I don't think there was
anyone else in the world who really understood the pain I was in or who
knew that I understood hers.

About an hour after she left, I pulled the tray table where my computer sat
over and put the DVD in. I didn't start crying immediately, not until Reese
spoke, right after David. He was so earnest, as he always was, as he talked
about the brother he loved.

Then Josh got up and I really started to cry.

"Most of you know my brother, Rob Hallstrom, is still in a coma and
couldn't be with us today. My name is Josh Hastings and the Martin's were
kind enough to allow me to speak on his behalf.

Rob was Toby's boyfriend, or as Toby liked to say, his future fiance and
before he passed his actual fiance. I remember the first time I heard him
refer to Rob that way and I remember Rob's face as he looked up, smiling,
at Toby. I first met him in September after my brother had been bothering
me endlessly to meet this amazing guy he was dating. I knew he was
something different that first time meeting him. Older brothers always
worry about their siblings, but after meeting Toby I knew I didn't need to
worry any more since Rob had found someone who loved him every bit as much
as I did.

Being with them just made you feel good. They didn't fight, they didn't
argue over trivial things, they were just together. Rob always said it was
all Toby, that he was always so thoughtful that there wasn't anything to
ever get upset about, but I knew there was something more there. Watching
them exchange comments with a glance always made me smile, as did seeing
Toby steal glances at Rob when he knew he wasn't looking, the barest hint
of a smile on his face. We told Rob in September he was doing it, but he
never once caught Toby in the act. To be honest, I don't think he ever
really tried. It was probably the sweetest thing I've ever witnessed,
someone so completely in love that they just wanted to make sure the object
of their affection was still there.

Toby meant a lot to me and to my family. We adored him. I didn't consider
him just my brothers boyfriend, I considered him a friend, someone I could
talk to about things that were bothering me and someone who would, in turn,
accept my advice when he was seeking counsel.

I know if my brother was here today he'd tell you all that as much as this
hurts, he'd never trade an instant of the pain if it meant never having met
Toby. In the all too brief time they had together, they found and nurtured
the best in each other. They shared a love that will surely transcend their
time on earth and while goodbye is hard, it doesn't mean forever."

I ended up pushing the computer aside and just sat there, quietly sobbing,
until my mother came back in. We talked about the funeral and she told me
she wanted to see it since she hadn't gone. When I asked her why, she just
smiled and told me, "You're my baby and you needed me here with you." It's
impossible to argue with that logic.

Despite the rules of the hospital, we decided to order some actual food
because I was starving so we called in an order to Neal who graciously
drove it over to the hospital and we ate together while watching TV. After,
I worked for a few hours then went to bed after they left.

That Wednesday, mother and my father were there bright and early to meet
with Dr. Graham who was ready to release me. My father had gone pretty
dramatically overboard and bought a hospital bed for one of the guest rooms
down stairs so I would be 'comfortable' and wouldn't need to go up the
stairs on the crutches.

By noon the paperwork was done and I was dressed and on my way back to my
father's house. Home. Such as it was.

Once we got there, with my mother right behind us, I told the two of them
it would be best if things got back to normal, at least on the surface, as
quickly as possible. Obviously, I couldn't drive which was going to put
pressure on my father so I asked my mother if it was OK if for the next few
weekends she and Neil came up to Dallas on Sunday rather than me going to
Ouichita.

I made a list of the clothes I needed from my room, which Cat was nice
enough to bring down for me, and we had a blast cutting up a couple of
pairs of pants so I could dress for school. It would be another week at
least before I could put pressure on my leg, but I could move my knee and I
was thankful for that. I also weighed myself and got a little depressed
about the loss of 15 pounds. Before the accident, I'd hit 184 and now I was
back to 175, less if you factored in the cast. I knew I could get back up,
but I was upset since it would mean that I would probably be dropped back
to JV. It hadn't even occurred to me that baseball was over for me that
year. To be honest, it hadn't really hit that I'd lost Toby.

Oh, I knew intellectually he was gone. Emotionally it had hit me, but I
wasn't dealing with it in a healthy way. I WAS ANGRY. I didn't wish it had
been me and not him to die, I wished he was back or that we were both
dead. And I was fucking mad as hell that neither had happened.

The anger would manifest itself in dozens of ways during the weeks ahead,
most significantly snapping at people over nothing. Trying to get around on
crutches, for example, presented a number of problems and required
patience. I had none at that point so every little issue with the damn
things required spitting out a stream of profanities, occasionally at
someone if they were nearby. That they had nothing to do with whatever
problem I had was irrelevant. I was on a rage boil and it showed no signs
of letting up.

I talked to Jack Wednesday night and asked him if he'd be my chauffeur to
school in the mornings. I hated being dependent but I hated even worse the
thought of having to depend entirely on my father or Mrs. Witsun for
transportation. He agreed easily, which surprised me given what we were
both dealing with, but I think he just understood there wasn't anyone else
I wanted. I needed him. My next option was Mark or Ethan, but I really
wanted it to be Jack.

That first morning was tough. I got up and dressed for school, as well as I
could, and was honestly kind of nervous. I didn't know what to expect and
was hoping that things would just be kind of normal. Jack picked me up
around 815 and we walked in right at 830. I went to the office to check in
and let them know I was back, officially. Then with that out of the way, I
crutched over to the cafetorium. Any hope I had for things being calm died
as people started moving aside for me, and telling me how happy they were I
was back and how sorry they were about Toby. Some of them I knew, but most
of them I didn't and I held it together pretty well until I got to Carter
who made me yelp as he hugged me, and I had to remind him my ribs were
going to be pretty sensitive for at least another week. Ethan was a lot
more delicate and so were the rest of the guys. I smiled at everyone and
told them thank you. On a purely independent basis, they'd decided who was
going to help me get from class to class during the day.

Everyone was going out of their way to be nice and helpful. And it made me
mad. I hated that this was happening to me and I hated the looks of pity I
kept getting from people. That was mixed with gratefulness to those who
were going out of their way to help. Needless to say, the conflicting
emotions left my head spinning.

I had my first crying jag at lunch when some of the guys started talking
about varsity football next year. It was the beginning of March and several
of the people at our table were going to be on v the next year. Of course,
in my head, things went straight to Toby.

Toby loved football...he loved every second he was on the field, whether it
was practice or a game. He'd told me he really wanted to play college and
if possible pro. He was a great player to be sure, but it was good to see
how much he really loved the game itself. And that's where my head went
when the subject came up.

It was some pretty ugly crying. I could tell Seth and Julian were freaking
out. Carter and David were the ones who got me under control and from that
day forward one was on either side of me at lunch. As with Willy and Brent
when Charlie was murdered, neither ever said anything to me about it, it
just was.

Carter started to tell them to think before they spoke and I grabbed his
arm. He looked over at me and I shook my head.

I cleared my throat looking at him, "They didn't mean anything by it,
please don't get on them." Then I looked across the table. "For y'all, it's
been almost three weeks since the accident and life has to go on. For me,
it's been a few days. Even if that weren't the case, I'm going to be a
freak for a while so please just bear with me but don't worry about what
you're going to say or do. OK?"

They all nodded their heads and I noticed as I looked at Seth he was
tearing up, "Seth, man, if you start to cry you're just going to send me
over the edge again. It's OK, dude."

He gave me a weak smile back and Chuck said, "We need to change the
subject", which made us all laugh.

The rest of the day went much like that. It's hard for people in general,
and kids in particular, to know what to say or do around someone who has
just suffered a heartbreaking loss. It's especially hard when the person
they're trying to think about just wants to crawl back into bed and be
alone for a really long time.

By the time I got to baseball practice, I was feeling a little
better. Adams pulled me aside as I came in and asked how much longer I'd
have the cast. I told him three to four more weeks and he said he was going
to permanently move one of the JV guys up to take my spot, but that I was
going to remain on varsity since I'd be able to play again before the end
of the year.

"You've been through a lot and I just want you to know you're still part of
this team." he said. And I broke down again, this time hugging Adams who
thankfully wasn't as gruff as his brother who probably would have responded
by brushing me off.

I spent practice keeping stats since moving around doing much of anything
on the field or the in dugout was impossible. It gave me a chance to watch
the guys, especially Jarrett Rogers who was my replacement, and really
evaluate how they were working together. If you knew what to look for, you
could see who didn't get along and whip them into shape. The coaches did a
good job with that, but it was good to have a fresh set of eyes who knew
all the people involved.

The end of the day was my appointment with Arya and Dr. Foster who listened
patiently while I outlined what I was feeling, then dove deep into a few
thing like my anger issues. They told me it was natural and Arya was good
about not making a big deal out of my apparent regression into a state of
trying to do everything for myself. Foster told me flat out that the anger
was a sign of the stress and gave me some exercises to deal with it.

My father picked me up from the session and it was really awkward. He just
didn't know what to do... three weeks before I'd been the happiest kid in
the world. Now, I was glum and kind of withdrawn, not really talkative,
still hurting from the accident and feeling like a big piece of me had
died. He'd just gotten comfortable with us being closer, then this came
along and threw a wrench in what he knew.

We got home and ate dinner, then I went to bed early, exhausted from the
day. That, in a nutshell, was what I did for about the next month. There
were weekend nights when I'd get out of the house, but for the most part
that was it. Sebastian and Greg would come over and watch movies with me,
Ethan and some of the guys would drag me to a movie and dinner. Sometimes
it would be Josh and Lane, with and without Susie, Willy, Brent, and his
girlfriend Tina... there were a seemingly endless string of invitations to
keep me from falling into a depression but none of them really worked. I
was still depressed. There just wasn't any way to stop that, I needed time
to be sad.

During March, there were people I just didn't want to be around, like Molly
and Mark. We tried hanging out one Saturday and about 20 minutes into
playing a game, Molly found us both crying uncontrollably. It just wasn't a
good idea for us to be together. If there was anyone outside of me, Jack,
or Toby's family who felt his loss, it was Mark. He was just devastated and
every time the two of us were together, it always ended with us crying. It
was like seeing one another MADE us see Toby and we just couldn't control
the overload of sadness, the sense of loss, that rose to the surface, no
matter how well we'd both thought we'd tamped it down. When we talked about
the message Toby had given me for Mark, he was absolutely crushed and it
crushed me having to tell him.

Though neither of us knew it, Jack was FAR worse than either of us could
have imagined. But he was being stoic and keeping it tamped down. During
March, I was really dependent on him and what I didn't know at the time but
found out later was that he was putting up a hell of a front just to keep
from upsetting me. He needed to make sure I was OK before he could really
break apart.

For the first two weeks I was out of the hospital I also knew there was
something I needed to do which I was dreading, delivering Toby's dying
words to his family. Every time I thought about it, it knotted my stomach
so badly it hurt. Even hours later, it was hard to get anything down other
than water. Jack and Mark had been so completely devastated by the
conversations I'd had with them, I just knew it was going to be bad when I
had to talk to the Martins.

The night of March 29th, things came to a head. I got up during the night
to use the bathroom and as I washed my hands, I looked at myself in the
mirror and realized I couldn't hide from it any more. That I was being a
miserable, selfish bastard keeping this from them and I knew the longer I
waited, the worse it was going to get.

The next morning I called Linda before school and asked if I could come by
on Saturday. We'd talked a few times since I'd been released from the
hospital, so I knew she had some things for me to pick up. I made a point
of telling her that wasn't the reason I wanted to come by.

"Sure, why don't you come for dinner around 7?" she asked. I agreed and
told my father I'd need a lift over there. He asked if he wanted me to come
with him and I told him no, that this was something I needed to do on my
own and it was long overdue.

I wasn't nervous that Saturday and it was a really nasty day, overcast,
rainy, and darker than it usually was even for being overcast. It was
weird, kind of like a Bergman movie. It just felt oppressive.

My father dropped me off at the Martin's and I crutched up to the front
door, only to have it open and David came out to wave at my father. I went
inside and talked to Reese and Angie, then got a huge hug from Linda.

"We're very glad you're here," she said, with a warm smile and a little
moisture in her eyes.

I hugged her back as hard as I could and her, "Thank you for having me."

We both took a step back and David came back in giving me a hug.

"Well," Linda started, "I have some appetizers laid out. What would you
like to drink?"

Reese spoke up, laughing, "He wants Diet Cherry DP. It's all he ever
wants."

I looked over at him, "Cat's been telling stories, hasn't she." He just
laughed and nodded his head.

"How about regular?" Linda asked.

"Yes, ma'am, that would be great."

We walked into the living room and helped ourselves to the food Linda had
laid out on a game table, chatting about how things were going. David asked
about the cast and I told him it was supposed to come off the following
week, for which I was REALLY happy.

Reese told me they'd started spring training and the coach had told him he
had a good shot at varsity the next year, which didn't surprise me. Toby
had told me he had been working with him and relayed to me at one point
that Reese was bigger at 14 than he had been.

About 20 minutes after joining us, Linda went to check on something in the
kitchen, then came back and said dinner would be ready in 15 minutes. At
that point, I could feel the attack start. My breathing picked up and I had
to straighten myself so I could lean over and catch my breath. Linda and
David knew about the GAD, and Linda started stroking my back which calmed
me down along with my exercises.

When I looked back up, I laughed a little.

"Sorry, y'all, there's something I need to do and I realized now is the
time to do it and it brought on a little attack..."

David spoke up immediately, "Do I need to run you home?"

"No sir, it's the reason I asked to come over tonight. There's something I
need to tell you and I'm ashamed I haven't done it sooner. It's just been
hard..." I said as I started to tear up, which prompted Linda to step in.

"Sweatheart, there are four people here who love you and completely
understand."

I replied, "Thanks." then took a deep breath, straightening myself back up.

"There's no easy way to tell you this, but immediately after the accident,
Toby must have known something was wrong. After he made sure I was OK, he
started giving me messages to relay. I told him to just be patient, that
the police and ambulance would be there any moment, but he insisted. His
last wish was that I tell you what he said."

I looked over at David, whose eyes were completely filled with tears. He
just nodded to me.

"He wanted me to tell you both that you were the best parents anyone could
have asked for and that he loved every second of the life you gave him." I
paused for just a second, then looked at Reese and Angie, "He wanted you
both to know you were the best brother and sister he could have asked for."

I took a second to wipe at my eyes, "I wanted you all to know how amazing
he was even as he faced what he knew was the end. He wasn't terrified, he
wasn't crying, he wasn't cursing. His only concern was that I tell those
who were closest to him how much he loved them. And I'm sorry it's taken me
almost a month to deliver that message because you all deserved to know it
much sooner. I just... couldn't handle it and then, Thursday night, I
realized I was being weak and selfish regarding the last words of the man I
loved, and I hope you'll be able to forgive me."

There was silence, aside from some quiet crying for just a few seconds
before Linda hugged me from the side. I looked over at her and saw the
softness, the empathy, and the love in her eyes. It was like looking into
Toby's eyes.

"Rob, we love you. There is only one person aside from us who we knew was
dealing the same pain we were. Thank you for doing this and thank you for
loving our son."

David cleared his throat and I looked over at him, "Son, we know what
you're going through and how torn up you are. Please know how much we
appreciate you coming here and telling us what you did. It means more," he
stopped, stifling a sob, "than you'll ever know."

Reese and Angie came over to give him a hug, then I got up and Linda helped
me into the dining room and we ate together. It was the first meal I'd had
in weeks that didn't tear me up and I felt so much better about coming
here, about being with them, I realized how wonderful it was to have them
in my life.

After dinner, Linda brought me into the kitchen and we talked a little
more. Then she brought out a box and placed it on the countertop.

"I spent a week going through his room. I'd go in, sometimes I'd even make
it an hour before I had to leave and just break down and cry. I found some
things that I think you'll want."

I got up and crutched over to the box as she pulled off the lid. At the top
was his letter jacket, neatly folded. I lifted it out of the box, brought
it to my face and inhaled deeply. Toby. For a second, it was like I could
feel him behind me, wrapping me up tightly in what we'd called jokingly
called a therapy hug.

I put it back down and looked at Linda.

"Are you sure you want to give me this?" I asked.

She nodded, "There are two others from when he was smaller, if you can
imagine that. I figured this one should be with you.

I looked back in the box and found some pictures of us which surprised me
because I didn't think he'd ever printed any out. Then there was a spiral
notebook.

Linda spoke up, "It's his journal. There are a bunch of them, going back to
when he started writing them in fourth grade. This one," she tapped the
book, "he started in August. It's all you."

I looked over at her, "You read it?"

She nodded, "Every page. Three times. When I told you how much he grew up
while you were together, well, let's just say it was an understatement."

"Oh, Linda, are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely. It needs to be with you. I had a copy made so I'd have
the set. Reese will want to read it at some point, especially when he feels
like he needs some advice from his brother."

I walked over and gave her a hug. We stood like that for a good ten minutes
before Reese came in asking when we'd have dessert. We both laughed and got
busy cutting cake.

After, Linda drove me home and helped me into the house with the box. I got
the front door open and the house was completely dark.

"You going to be OK?" she asked.

I hit the lights on the panel near the door, "Yes ma'am, and thank you
again for dinner."

She gave me a hug, and I closed the door behind her as she left. I then
used my good arm to drag the box into my makeshift room, then spent about a
minute cursing, once again, that there wasn't a panel for the automation
system in it. So I trudged back to the foyer to turn off the lights. Then I
noticed the light coming from my fathers office.

As I slid the door open, I saw him standing behind his desk looking out the
window, with a drink in his hand.

"Daddy," I asked quietly. When he didn't respond I repeated myself, a
little louder, and finally got his attention.

He turned to look at me and I realized he'd been crying as he gave me a
weak, but warm, smile.

"When did you get home?" he asked.

"Just now. Why are all the lights off?"

"I don't know. I guess your sister shut them off when she went to her
room." he turned back to look out the window. "How was dinner?"

I shuffled in and sloppily dropped myself into one of the leather chairs
facing his desk with a loud sigh.

"Exhausting, but really good. I told them what I needed to and I feel a lot
better, but I'm really worn out. It's a lot harder getting around than I
remember when I broke my leg last time..." and I stopped as I realized he
was crying. He wasn't heaving, but I could hear it and see his shoulders
move as he sobbed.

"What's wrong, daddy?"

He turned back to look at me, "Everything. I've made a perfect mess of
everything. It's been eating at me since you were in the hospital but I've
been holding it back and I guess it just finally hit this evening.

I never wanted any of this for you. This wasn't how it was supposed to be."

I teared up a bit and replied, "Of course you didn't. You'd be a pretty
terrible person if you did." I finished, trying to make a joke. He sat down
heavily in his chair and turned back to look at me across the desk.

"I just thought I was doing the right thing bringing you here, that I could
give you a new start where no one knew anything, that I could protect you
better than your mother could. In the end, I made things so much worse.

"I've been meaning to tell you this, but I didn't know when I should. There
never seemed to be a right time and I realized tonight that I was just
being a coward. Do you remember that Sunday in January when Toby told you
he couldn't make it to dinner with your mother?"

I remembered. "Yes sir. I didn't think much of it at the time, he just said
he had something important he needed to do. I asked him if it was something
he needed my help with and he just said no."

My father smiled, wiping at his eyes. "His plans were with me. He'd called
the office earlier that week and asked if I'd have dinner with him that
Sunday. He wouldn't tell me what it was about, but I figured I'd see what
was on his mind.

I suggested we have dinner here and he said that was fine. He came over
about 6, we ate and had a talk. He wanted to clear the air with me and to
let me know how he felt. I swear, at the time, I thought the boy was full
of shit. He was talking about wanting to spend his life with you, if you
were willing, and asked for my permission for the two of you to marry as
soon as it was possible.

I just told him you were definitely one to make up your own mind which made
him laugh. Then he said, 'I know, but it's important to him and so it's
important to me to have your permission.'"

I sat back in the chair, "That explains Valentines Day," I said and he
nodded. "To be honest, the only thing I was worried about was that year
between us graduating."

My father actually laughed a bit, "Well, you needn't have been. He told me
that from the moment he saw you, he was in love with you and that he was
totally confident in that. He was really so damn earnest I was impressed. I
mean, I liked Toby, I really did. But that night, he was so open about you
and him that it kind of shocked me. He knew you needed him and he wanted to
be the one to protect you, to keep you safe, and to provide for you. I'll
be honest, I kind of laughed a bit at the last part, but as for the
rest... to a father, you have to understand, those words are like magic. To
know that there will be someone there to take over for you after you're
gone, someone who cares as much about your child as you do. But then he
admitted something else. That he knew he needed you far more than you
needed him."

I sat there thinking about all this. Toby had always been open and very
honest about his feelings. Sometimes it could be a little overwhelming,
especially when he got carried away thinking about the future. While I was
thinking a day or maybe a week ahead, Toby was already thinking about where
we'd be after college. His admission about needing me was one he'd already
made to me, one which I thought was insane. We were together and that was
it, as far as I was concerned. It wasn't until he proposed that I
understood what he meant, that I made him want to be a better person (he
didn't understand he did the same to me). He drew strength from me,
confidence, that he knew wasn't his own. Even his mother had mentioned it
at one point when we'd talked, how much he grew up while we were together.

I also realized, that was about the time my father's attitude toward Toby
really changed. He'd been civil to him at first, then really appeared to
like him. After that Sunday though, it was like my dad suddenly considered
him another son. Now, it all made sense to me.

"Daddy, really, it's OK."

"No, it's really not. Watching you go through this has been like stabbing
to the heart, every day. And if I'd never fought the custody, none of it
would have happened. Or maybe you'd have met Toby later and he wouldn't
have died." he doubled over, hands to his head, then raised back up, "It's
been giving me fits thinking about it."

I sighed, "Then stop. I wouldn't trade a moment I had with Toby for all the
pain I've gone through since the accident. I know it's not fair, I know no
one wanted this for me, least of all me, but I'll be damned if I regret
anything. Because of him I know what it's like to really love and be
loved. You're going to have to let this go on your own. This guilt you're
carrying is pure bullshit. You need to apologize to mother, Neil, and Josh
for what you put them through and forget about trying to change the past."

I stood up, "I love you and the last thing I want is for you to be like
this. I'm emotional enough without you bearing guilt for things out of your
control. Please, get some sleep tonight and let's talk tomorrow."

I turned to walk out of the room. I made it almost to the door before I
heard him.

"Rob?" he asked.

I turned back to look at him, "Yes sir?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, daddy."

I trudged back to my makeshift room, realizing that my plan to spend some
time reading Toby's journal was shot all to hell. I made it in and closed
the door before I started to cry. I collapsed onto my bed, still made from
the morning, fell asleep at some point. I remember praying, before I fell
asleep, for some help.

God, as it turned out, was listening and decided to step in.

Thanks for reading! Any comments can be sent to doncornelius69 at yahoo dot
com.



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