Counting

Chapter 11

by Tux

This is all fantasy fiction. None of the events are real.

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Edited by Andrew Thomas

This story is an original work of fiction ©Copyright 2022 Tux - Please do not copy or post without permission.

Hey guys it's Tux and I can't express the joy that I have that you all love reading my story. I wasn't really sure in the beginning but working with Andrew, he built my confidence and I wrote my story down. I'm so excited to keep writing the story and bringing you more emotional connection, drama, and victories for young AJ and Zack. After writing so far into the story, I've become very attached to AJ and Zack, more than I thought I was going to be able to, and I look forward to sharing the rest of his story with you.

I appreciate all the emails, suggestions, offers, and support that I get and for those who haven't emailed yet and are waiting or don't feel comfortable or safe emailing let me, let me express my gratitude for reading my story and tell you a little bit about my story. I've been reading nifty for many years about two months ago I just decided to start emailing people and let them know how much I appreciate their stories. I got replies almost instantly. The responses were supportive, encouraging, and some even held spoilers. I struck up a friendship with Andrew and it grew with my confidence and now Andrew is my most trusted editor. I cannot do this without him. Other authors like Lucas and Eric Murphy offer advice and support with my stories and it means the world to me. So, take a leap email an author and tell them how you feel, did you like the story did you not like it, all opinions matter to the author. Do you have suggestions on where you think the story could go, all suggestions interest the author. So take that leap and email your favorite author, you can change his day for the better, and might even influence or change the story. Thank you to all those that were supportive to me and I can't wait to show you the rest of... Counting.

Chapter 11 - My Fault

Zack

I lean in and kiss AJ on the lips. Kissing his lips is cold and motionless. I begin to sob and beg AJ not to leave me. "Please do go, I need you, you're my boyfriend, my lover, and my soulmate. I can't live without you."

Very slowly AJ's eyes open, and his emerald eyes stare into my soul. He whispers to me, "I'll always be with you," and then, as slowly as they opened, his eye lids float closed. My tears begin to fall, and I wrap his arm around Max and kiss him softly.

Beep... beep................... beep... beep......................... beep... beeeeeeeeeeeeep

Two Weeks Later

Twenty-three steps down to the second floor of the Docker Estate. I have been counting them every morning and every night for two weeks. I come down and head to the bathroom holding Max, the teddy bear I gave AJ for his birthday. I knock on the door and get no answer. I don't hear the shower going, so I enter the empty bathroom and lock the door. I set Max on the vanity, pull my dick out of my boxers, and begin to release myself. I yawn and close my eyes; I see flashes of wolves lunging for me and AJ, and I rip my eyes open. My body flinches, and I pee all over the toilet. My head whips back and forth, realizing I'm in the bathroom. I take a deep breath and remind myself I'm safe. Then look down at my mess and sigh. "Damn it, Zack. Why can't you stop being a pussy!"

At least I missed the plaster cast on my leg this time. One of those fucking wolves cracked my shin bone, and then I made it worse riding Stepper like I did getting AJ back to the house. But I would have done it all over again, and this time I would make that horse gallop faster, or maybe I could have moved faster. Maybe... maybe I could have... I wipe my tears from my eyes and remind myself, to stop being a pussy.

I place my dick back in my boxers and get the paper towels and the cleaner out from under the sink. After cleaning up my mess, I put the cleaning stuff back where I found it and stare at myself in the mirror. I look like shit. I can't sleep. I just spend all night counting the stars above AJ's bed. When I do fall asleep, I'm haunted by the ghost eyes from that night two weeks ago staring at me in the darkness, or Mrs. Docker and Uncle Jack yelling at me for letting AJ... The last part is too hard to think about; I mostly wake up then anyway. My family moved into the basement last week, but Mrs. Docker has been very nice and lets me sleep in AJ's bed. But I don't sleep. I close my eyes and I see that night from two weeks ago. The night is so dark, and white ghost-like monsters stalk me and AJ. Shaking my head, I clear my head. "You're safe. You're not losing your mind." I'm starting to doubt that last part.

Taking Max by the arm, I unlock the door and head down the stairs, almost bumping into Lana. She ruffles my hair and enters the bathroom without breaking contact with her IPhone. I count the thud my cast makes, twenty-five times, as I go down the steps. Coming into the kitchen, I take AJ's bar stool and lay Max on the bar. Climbing on the stool, I lay my head on the bar next to Max, so I can stare into his button eyes. Mrs. Docker is cleaning dishes from everyone else's breakfast. It's ten in the morning, and I've been allowed to sleep in these past two weeks... for reasons you should already know. She notices me at the bar and comes over and kisses me on the cheek.

"Look who's up finally. How did you sleep, honey?" She asks as she gets stuff out to make my breakfast.

"You don't have to make breakfast for me, I don't deserve it," I mumble and yawn. That last part is distorted by the yawn. I find that my fingers subconsciously have already begun to count the notches on the bar, so I focus on that.

"Don't be silly," she tells me like she does every morning when I say that.

As I count, I get really relaxed and I close my eyes to a flash of white fangs and glowing white eyes. "AAARRRGGHHH!" I scream and lose my balance on the barstool, falling to the floor.

"Oh, honey!" Mrs. Docker hurries over and checks on me. "What happened, Zack?" She asks, while helping me up. She knows what happened. She's only being polite.

"I'm good, I only lost my balance--thanks to this fucking cast!" I cussed before I could stop my mouth. She untangles my legs from the chair. Then she gives me a look as if I should be careful what I say, but she doesn't say anything.

She doesn't scold me.

I kind of wish she would.

I wish she hated me.

Maybe she'll tell Uncle Jack, and he'll whip me.

I wish someone would punish me for what I did to AJ and what I couldn't do.

They're being so nice to me. I'm not sure how much more I can take it.

She walks back to the stove to prepare my breakfast plate while I climb back onto AJ's stool. "Okay, honey, after you're done eating, you need to go get dressed. I'm giving you three hours to do something fun. I don't want you moping around in AJ's room all day anymore. So, go walk around the farm and look for something to do. Then we'll head off to see Doctor Ford, and then to the hospital to get that leg looked at."

I audibly sigh in disappointment as she sits my plate down in front of me and combs her hand through my hair. With a smile, she says, "It won't be that bad, Zack. Doctor Ford was a huge help with AJ, and she can help you with your nightmares. Please, do this for me. It took me forever to talk your uncle into this and I just don't think I have the energy to fight with you."

I nod my head in defeat, and she moves my hair out of the way to kiss my forehead as I eat my breakfast slowly. It's strange that she's been treating me so... motherly, but it's nice to have a mother again. All finished, I yawn deeply, and with droopy eyes I get up to put my dishes in the sink and slowly head back to our room. I tell Mrs. Docker, "Thanks for breakfast, Mom." Then I start counting stairs on my way up to AJ's room. There are twenty-five stairs and forty-six balusters.

I turn the corner in our room and my hand subconsciously reaches out, sliding down the balusters on the wall on my way to the bed. I've counted them so many times it's a mute point, but for some reason, I can't walk past them without counting them. It's like the stairs, I know how many there are, but counting them is somehow soothing. It's hard to explain, but for that short time it takes for me to count them, that is time I'm not thinking about... AJ.

I know what Mrs. Docker told me to do, but I can't help myself, I collapse on the bed and wrap myself in the blankets, fighting the doubts and continued second-guessing that have plagued me for two weeks. After about thirty minutes, I might have fallen asleep, footsteps coming up the stairs causes me to sit up. Zeke walks into the room and stops to watch me. The comforter is wrapped half-assed around me and covers half of my face. He sighs and sits next to me. My body leans over to him and sinks into his lap. His hands cradle my head as we sit there as if we were still little kids. After our parents died, this is how Zeke got me to fall asleep. To this day, I still don't understand how he isn't an emotional wreck like I am when things go bad. I guess I'm just the unlucky one.

"Zack, I'm so sorry," His voice cracks, and he has to swallow a few times to gain control. Sometimes it's hard to remember that he's in as much pain as I am from missing AJ, but is also affected by my feelings as well. I begin to cry, and he just holds me. "Mrs. Docker says I need to get you dressed and outside. How about a 4-wheeler ride. Then maybe some hoops till it's time for you to go."

I sit up and wipe my eyes and nose. I nod a little and get up to get dressed. I dress warm, and Zeke helps me with my stupid cast. Once we reach the barn, I hop on one foot next to the 4-wheeler while he gets it turned on. He takes my crutches and slips them into the rifle holster on the side and ties them down. Zeke helps me get on and makes sure I'm good to go, then takes off. Laying my head on his back, we leave a cloud of dust as we head out to the pastures. I hug him tight, and he lets go of the handle bar with his left hand, laying it on mine. I know he understands what I'm going through, and I try to enjoy the ride.

Zeke avoids the camp grounds and the skinny dipping hole on purpose and heads to the trails that lead down the river and to the outskirts of the property. The river is pretty down this way and speeds up a lot. We were never allowed to swim down here because it's dangerous. He leaves me on the 4-wheeler and goes to open the gate to the fall hay field. It will be cut in a few weeks, but now it'll serve as a great area to race around in. We'll probably get in trouble, but we both need to let off a little steam, so hopefully it'll be okay with Uncle.

Now normally, one of us gets on the front shelf that hangs above the tires while the other one drives like a bat out of hell through the hay, but me sitting on the back will have to do. It is fun, and I begin to laugh at how terrible Zeke is driving, I'm sure it's on purpose, and then... suddenly without warning... I think, wouldn't AJ love this. It's crazy how easily he slips in and dominates my thoughts. I sit back on the seat, and a flood of indecision triggers a panic attack. I wildly tap on Zeke's shoulder, and he stops the 4-wheeler.

"What? What's wrong?" He asks, concerned that he might have done something.

I spin around so that I'm sitting backwards on the seat and, most importantly, I don't have to look him in the eye. I grip the seat as I listen to myself heave for air. Zeke begins to rub my back and, after a little time, I calm down. I can feel my heart trying to beat itself out of my chest, and I lean back against his back for support. His strong frame doesn't budge, and I lean my head on his shoulder, looking at the sky. It's really blue today, with the perfect amount of clouds to cause little islands of shade on the ground that move with the wind. "It's all my fault," I whisper to Zeke and the sky.

"I don't believe that and neither does anyone else," he says as he keeps the engine running.

"Then why do I feel so bad. I can't even think about him without falling apart. I can't shake it, and it feels like I never will."

He shuts off the 4-wheeler and says, "I can't answer that. Maybe you should talk to the shrink lady like Mrs. Docker and Uncle want you to instead of just fucking around when you're there." It was a little harsh I first thought that he was picking a fight, but after giving it some thought, I just think it's Zeke's way of being direct.

"Yeah, maybe. I just don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to feel like this. I want to stop crying every time I think of him or that night."

We sat there on that 4-wheeler for what seemed like an hour without exchanging a word, just the support we have for one another kept us upright. He begins to shift around, and I can tell he's going to start the engine, so I spin around and hold onto him again. He turns towards me with tears falling slowly down his cheek and says, "I, for one, am very proud of how you acted that night. I could have never done that." With one swift motion, he starts it and drives off, leaving me with a lot to think about.

We shoot hoops for a little while, me mostly making 3-point shots while leaning on the 4-wheeler and him juking through a make-believe team of the finest players for a lay-up. Soon Mrs. Docker pulls up to us, and Zeke helps me into the front seat and gives me a fist bump. "Remember what I said," and I give him a nod, then I close the door.

As we pull out of the driveway, Mrs. Docker taps my leg and asks me if I had fun today. I nod and give her a fake smile and tell her it was a good idea to go take a 4-wheeler ride. She proceeds to go on and on about how me and my brother are good together. That we don't get to spend as much time as we used to, and how Zeke misses me. I stare out the window as she talks, and I really don't care if it's rude or not. I'm not paying attention.

The car ride is pretty uneventful, my head leans on the glass window of the SUV while Mrs. Docker drives me to town. The radio is off, and I don't have the energy to reach over to turn it on or the will to ask her to do it, so I watch the open fields. My eyes are lulled closed by the rhythmic sounds of the tires on the road. I'm thinking she is trying to give me time to nap before my appointment with Doctor Ford. She doesn't understand what waits for me on the other-side. My fingers move from black bead to black bead on Max's chest, seven... eight... nine... ten... eleven... Every bump, notch, divot, crooked seam, and imperfection are brought to light under my finger tips. For every bead that turns, the combination changes, and then, so does the number of beads. There is so many more than seventeen beads on this bear, and a tear falls as I learn a little more about my boyfriend that I didn't know till now.

The tone goes off when Mrs. Docker walks into the therapist's offices. She holds the door open for me to maneuver my crutches through the door. Max swings in my hand as I try to hold onto him and the crutches at the same time.

"Honey, would you like me to hold-"

Jerking the bear away without thought, my crutch begins to fall until she catches it for me. "Don't! I have him," I insist with an angered outburst. Her eyes are filled with pity and that only increases my shame. "I'm sorry..." I mumble softly as I take the crutch from her and finish stumbling into the office's waiting room. It's amazing to me how much that word doesn't cover, but yet there isn't another word that represents the shame and guilt I feel. For now, I just don't feel I can say `I'm sorry' enough.

Doctor Ford comes out and greets me. "Hello Zack, I'm glad you're here," she says politely and motions me to the back office. She waits patiently for me to stumble my way into the room. Sitting down, I lay my crutches on the floor. I pull Max close while she sits down.

"So, are you going to talk to me today?" She says, as she lays her hands in her lap.

"I talk to you," I counter offer.

"No, you are polite with me. I want you to talk to me, Zack. Tell me about that night," she instructs.

My eyes fill with tears, and I open my mouth to say something, but the words don't dare come out because of the threat of reliving that night. "I just... can't." I whisper barely audible.

She frowns, and I can tell she is rethinking. "Tell me about the games you played that day," she asks.

"The games? What about them? They were all fun. Uncle laid down some rules that kind of stopped it from getting too fun, but we had fun anyway. Ha! Even AJ... won... one..." My voice trails off as guilt and regret overtake me.

"See, you can talk about that day. Expand on that and tell me more. What game did AJ win? Tell me how to play it."

After thirty minutes of watching me tell what little of the story I can without including AJ. I always get to the same point in the story, and she sees me tear myself into a blubbering mess. Doctor Ford decides to take a different path. "Zack," she says, handing me a new box of tissues. I take it and use like four of them. "Zack, what is the first thing that pops into your head... Football."

I collect myself first, then whimper, "Sport."

"A firefighter saving a boy..."

"A hero."

"Okay good, they're going to be a little harder from now on, remember just the first thing you think of." She takes a deep breath and then says, "...wolf."

"...teeth," I whisper, and I hold Max as tightly as I can. I use his ears to wipe the tears that just won't stop falling.

"Zack-"

"Irresponsible," I answered too quickly to realize my name isn't part of the game,

She takes a deep breath again, startled by my answer. She writes some stuff down and thinks about what direction her little game is going to go now. "You're doing great Zack, just one more. Don't think, just answer... AJ"

I just couldn't say it at first. My voice squeaks out, and I swallow hard, and I can feel myself start to lose it. She sits up in her chair and bores her eyes into mine. "Zack, answer me, please. What is the first thing that comes to mind when I mention AJ to you?"

After about ten minutes of me sobbing and looking anywhere but in her eyes, I mumble, "It's my fault." My chest is killing me, and my head hurts so bad. I inhale deeply and yell, "It was all my fault! I noticed the signs that he was sick! I let him lie to me. Why did I do that? I left him by himself! I couldn't get to him fast enough or get him home in time, it's all my fault!" I'm sure the Doc couldn't understand most of what I said, but after about ten more minutes of me confessing the part I played in the death of my boyfriend, she begins to tell me how proud she is of me!

"What? Did you hear me?" I scream at her and jump up to my feet. "How can you be proud of me? How can you even be nice to me?" I hobble over to the couch and begin punching the pillows. "Stop being nice to me!" I keep punching until my arm can't take it anymore, and all that is left is me sobbing.

Doctor Ford has come over and is guiding me to lay down. "Lay down, try to relax," She says as I collapse, letting my grief and exhaustion overtake me.

After some time has passed, I wake up to the SUV going over speed bumps after sleeping soundly in the back as we pull into the hospital parking lot. The door slides open, and Mrs. Docker looks at me while I sit up rubbing my eye and yawning. She smiles at me and says, "I'm sorry, honey, but I need you to get up. We're at the hospital."

"How did I get into the car?" I mumble as we try to get my crutches under me.

"I had the nice man next door to Doctor Ford's office help carry you."

"Some stranger carried me like a baby; awe, come on, couldn't you have woken me up?" I squint. How embarrassing."

Mrs. Docker opens the door, and I ungracefully move myself in, saying, "Hell no, I wasn't going to wake you. That's the most I've seen you sleep." She gives me a smile and then messes up my hair.

Well, my leg doctor visit went as one would think. He looked at it, made some bad jokes, I took some X-rays, and then we played the waiting game. Normally I would be bored and snoop around to entertain myself. But today I'm nervous and jittery. Mrs. Docker watches me fidget in my seat and hop around the room, counting just about anything I can. Twenty-one tongue sticks, four scissors, three chairs, nineteen cotton balls, and twelve ceiling tiles. All the while, she sits and watches me intently.

After like forty-five minutes, the doctor comes back with a smile, saying it looks like it's doing well. He reminds me that I must change my bandages on my shoulder and keep it clean. Mrs. Docker says she will do it herself if she has to. Other than that, we were in and out in record time.

As we make our way down the hall towards the elevator, I come to a halt and ask, "Mrs. Docker, can we... umm... I strain to say, with the crack in my voice, but once again the rest of the words get caught in my throat.

She looks at me quizzically and asks, "Are you sure you're up for it?"

I give it some thought about what Zeke said, and what Doctor Ford told me while we stood waiting for the elevator. "Yeah, I feel I have to."

End of Counting - Chapter 11 - Tux

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