“Oh fuck’s sake, let me help him,” West snarls, pushing off the wall, and is at Kash’s side in two long strides. “To the lab, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Again the doc sends us a measuring look, as if wondering what our relationship with Kash really is, but says nothing as West and Sydney help Kash out of the examination room.
I start after them, but the doc shakes her head.
Dammit. I could make a scene. Yell and demand to go. He’s my boyfriend, I could say. I have as much a right to be by his side as West or Sydney.
But that’s not what Kash needs from me.
So I stand back, stuff my hands in my pockets and wait, my heart racing and my eyes scratchy from lack of sleep.
He’ll be fine. That’s my new mantra. Kash will be okay.
Kash is back, and the hole gaping in my chest, in our lives, in our bed, is now gone. Filled. Mended.
We’re complete.
The tests show infection in the blood. His kidneys are affected, hence the pain, and the low-level fever. Hence the confusion, too. The doc has him lie back down in an adjacent room with many beds, and starts an IV with fluids and antibiotics, then gives us a prescription for the treatment.
“When he gets home, make sure he takes the antibiotics regularly and finishes the treatment, then we’ll check that the infection is gone, or else start a second round. Also vitamins and serum to drink, and don’t hesitate to come back if he still acts confused tomorrow. We actually want to keep him here for a few days, monitor him.”
That’s when Kash finally stirs. “No.”
“Mr. Graham…”
“No,” Kash says, and that’s that. Guy’s stubborn like a mule and no matter how we plead with him, he won’t change his mind. “Home,” he says, and the yearning in his voice has Syd in tears. “Just wanna go home.”
He signs a form stating he’s leaving against medical advice, though he agrees to stay until morning. So we take the prescription and wait, and wait some more. And hope is a terrible, wonderful thing as we watch over Kash and think over all the questions only he can answer.
Too restless to stay inside, too afraid to walk far from Kash in case he vanishes back into thin air, I step outside, in the cool predawn light, hands shoved deep in my jeans pockets, and stare at the lightening sky.
Inside my head, my heart, is a riot of emotions. Joy, so much fucking joy, but also worry, and fear, and a quite a bit of anger. Not at Kash, not really, but at not knowing his story, not being
able to understand, or protect him if he needs protection. At feeling so helpless. I hate that feeling. Been struggling with it for most of my life. It gets my hackles up, and makes my heart pound.
Someone hurries across the street and for a second dread coils in my gut, cold and heavy. Is that dad?
No, it’s not him.
It’s not him.
I wonder when I’ll stop seeing him everywhere. I’ve filed a restraining order against him and his buddies, for me and my friends, but I guess I’ll always be looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him there. Expecting his clients to come claim what they paid for.
Does he know I relive it all in my dreams, night after night? That I sometimes want to scour the inside of my head with that damn bleach West likes so much to clean the filth?
West. Sydney. Kash. Just speaking their names in my mind calms me down. It’s a magic spell that protects me and keeps me sane.
Turning on my heel, I go back inside. Back to them.
Morning comes, and we take Kash home. He doesn’t seem any more aware than he was last night, dammit.
Relax, I tell myself. Take it easy. Be patient. Give the medication a chance to work.
It just… fucking grates that we found him, but he’s not really fully here yet. Grates and aches like an old break that hurts with the change in the weather.
None of us goes to work today. I don’t even know what day it is. We haul Kash to the center of our extra-large bed, strip and drop around him, pulling the covers over us.
I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.