For Just One More Day with You

19. A Touch of Hope

19. A Touch of Hope

They returned to Scott's house from the mall a week later, the air still light and things still going quite well.

That is, until Scott collapsed.

Bubba was beneath him in an instant, easing his body down before Mitch could even register what was happening.

But something was extremely different about this one, Mitch noticed, as he ran to his boyfriend's side.

His eyes were open.

He was also sitting up.

But his arms were twitching, and when he looked into Scott's eyes, parts of his face looked like they had shock waves running through them.

Think... you learned about these... at the hospital... Mitch urged himself, as Scott's arm flew sideways, knocking into the side of the couch with a painful sounding crack.

Bubba moved forward, sitting against Scott's arm, holding it still.

Right... you can touch him for this one.

Mitch reached out, easing Scott's arms down as his legs gave a violent twitch.

Then, he settled down.

Myoclonic seizure. It's where the name of his type of epilepsy comes from.

Mitch patted himself on the back for remembering that, just as Connie rounded the corner.

"Hi, Mom," Scott said, trying to make his voice light. She rushed over, kneeling next to him.

"You hurt?" she asked.

"He hit his hand pretty hard," Mitch found himself saying, before Scott could open his mouth to respond.

"These have been much more frequent since the new meds have run their course for a while," Connie said, taking his hand in her own and inspecting his wrist and fingers.

"Are they better than the tonic-clonic ones?" Mitch asked, looking into Scott's eyes.

"In a lot of ways, yes. In some ways, they're about the same." She seemed satisfied with the look of his hand and leaned forward, kissing him on the top of the head. "We would prefer not to see any of them," she said, standing up and retreating towards the living room. "Call if you need me."

Scott looked at Mitch's outstretched hand, offering him assistance standing, and shook his head. "Can't move, yet."

Mitch dropped his hand. "Okay." He took a seat next to the blond, rubbing Bubba behind the ears.

"That was myoclonic, right?" Mitch asked, quizzing himself.

Scott nodded. "Technically, myoclonic atonic, due to the drop."

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Can they just make it easier? Like, I don't know, the jerky, twitchy, droppy one?"

Scott laughed. "Yeah. And the tonic-clonic can be the floppy one."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Mitch replied, knocking his shoulder against Scott's gently. "Are your legs okay?"

Scott nodded. "Getting strength back... just need a minute. My muscles went limp, which made me fall."

Mitch noticed the slight blush to the pretty, pale skin of his cheeks, and he leaned in, giving him a kiss there.

"What was that for?"

"For allowing me to love you," Mitch said, matter-of-factly, and Scott eyed him with a fondness that made his heart swell.

But the blue eyes turned sad, and Mitch wondered what was going on in that head.