Broken String

XLV

The outside air should be a relief but somehow it isn't, not right now. It's taken forever, the second time at the lab, the red numbers showing whose turn it was moving like mud through a trough. Now he has two pieces of cotton wool on his arms where they jabbed him, held by two pieces of medical tape. He doesn't even know how long he's supposed to leave them on for. 

"Are you okay, Eddy?" Brett asks him as he pushes him up to the car and bleeps the lock. Eddy shakes his head.
"I was dreading knowing. It turns out it's worse not to know." he admits weakly. 
"I agree." Brett says. "What a horrible place to work, huh? Doctor was nice though, right?"
Eddy manages to smile.
"Yeah. Must be the last name."
"Must be." Brett laughs. He's holding out his arm and it's becoming normal already to take it, to swing himself up out of the chair and into the car seat. Brett takes the chair and folds it like he's been doing it for years, slamming the boot shut and walking around the car to get in. 
"Okay. So that wasn't a lot of information. But the scan should tell us more. Right?"
Eddy nods. 
"Yeah. I don't even know if I want to know any of the options she was talking about."
"Trust me, you really don't want to go down that rabbit hole. Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah?"
Eddy looks up at his best friend. He knows his eyes are moist, but right now, right here it doesn't matter. Brett gets it, surely. Brett's left hand is lying limply on his left thigh, his palm radiating his loving calm, the hand slightly open. Like an invite. 
It's not an invite, surely. He can't mean it like that. His own right hand moves anyway and takes it of its own accord. 
Oh, God, this is crossing another line, he knows that. Best friends don't hold hands. But he needs it, needs him, needs the little point of contact. And Brett doesn't move an inch either, he just smiles slightly and sits there until Eddy nods and lets him go again.
"We'd better get home. The guys will be back soon."
"Yeah." Brett says as he puts the key in the ignition and starts the car. He slides smoothly into traffic. "They'll want to know how it's gone."
"Not that we have much to tell them. Um. I... I have something I need to discuss, though."
Is it the fact that Brett's heard it all, seen it all that makes him blurt that out? Has pushed him through halls and signed him into nurses? Helped him in the car? Or is it the hand he just held? It was warm, and dry. A comforting hand. A strong one. He wishes he could take it again, to keep him safe from dirty yellow buildings.
"Tell me?"
"Um. I need to shower. I..."
He feels the shock wave pull through his best friend before he can even finish the sentence. Just then a red light turns up and Brett stops, turns to him and eyes him with concern. "Shit, bro. I should have thought of that. You've been... oh, shit."
Eddy shrugs. "I didn't really know how to say. You know..."
Brett sighs and nods.
"Yeah. I should have asked. You want me to help you when we get home?"
Eddy scoffs.
"I really don't. But I think we'll have to. I can't stand alone for that long."
"God, Eddy." Brett shakes his head and pulls away as the light in front of them turns green. "Alright. Don't worry, okay? It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Yeah. How can he say to him that that's not true? Sure, he's seen him naked before, many times, he really couldn't care less about that. But what Brett doesn't understand, couldn't possibly understand, is that he hasn't seen him needy before. Not like this. It's different in ways he could never explain to his friend.
"Thanks. I know." he says quietly.
"And then we'll order take out. Cool?"
Eddy grins.
"Cool. Chinese?"
"Anything you want."

Okay, so he really would much rather not get the sympathy choice. But it doesn't matter, right now, because he's outside. He's in the car, with his friend, and they'll have a good night, of course they will. The salmon building gets further and further away from him with every moment that passes, every light that turns green. It's comfortable to be quiet again now, to simply stare out of the window as Brisbane floats by.
"You should practise though." he says in the end. "Tomorrow's your violin lesson, right?"
They are turning into their street and Brett signals as he nods. 
"Yeah. I'll practise before dinner, after you shower."