Cell Mates (boyxboy) (Book 1: Behind Bars)

Chapter 42: Remembering Kyle. (Part 1)

I felt the familiar clench in my chest at the thought of this night getting any worse, and I ran a shaking hand over my face. I felt more tired than I should be, and the tension in my shoulders pressed down on me like a massive weight that I couldn't hope to dislodge.

I picked up the stale coffee I'd gotten from the cafeteria earlier, then replaced onto the table without taking a sip. I didn't know if I could deal with it if he didn't make it. He'd grown on me these many weeks I'd known him...just like he grew on everyone, and now I couldn't remember what it had been like to not have him in my life.

I couldn't remember how it felt not to have to put up with his constant chatter, the nagging, the lack of privacy, and his ever present, warm smile. I couldn't remember how it had been before, and I didn't want to go back to that.

I needed him to come out of this alive and well, so I kept telling myself that it was Kyle and he was a fighter, he could pull through, but that's what you told yourself when you were hoping for the impossible.

He'd lost too much blood, and there'd been no exit would. Hours I'd been here, and even after flashing my badge too many times, I still couldn't get an answer. He was in surgery, they said.

They'd uttered words like 'critical condition,' severe blood loss,' and 'hope.' They'd told me the doctors were doing everything they could, and all I could do now was hope for the best.

The words were meant to be comforting, but I imagined just how useless they'd been to Kyle's father, who sat across the way with two strangers I assumed were Kyle's grandparents. The three of them looked like they'd been to hell and back, sitting there in their crumpled, expensive clothes, with eyes that looked hopeful and anxious.

I'd thought about going over there a number of times, but what could I say to him? That I'd fucked his son then told him I could never love him? That I was with him when he'd been shot and I'd been completely useless?

I shook my head. In the end I just sat on my side, and left them on theirs, where we equally mourned, and hoped, and prayed for a miracle...prayed that we got our boy back and everything would finally be okay.

..................................................

Three cups of coffee, and half a bag of M&M's later, and I was just about ready to go out of my mind. Kyle's grandparents had left awhile back, and his father now slept in the chair a few feet away from me. His snoring echoed throughout the silent waiting room, and was slowly lolling me to sleep.

I blinked rapidly, then shook my head, trying to stay awake. I'd tried it all. Pacing, a few bathroom runs to splash water on my face and stretching, but it had been a tough day; dodging bullets in the forest, and watching someone dear to you get shot would surely take its toll.

I shifted in my seat and the wrapper on the item beside me crinkled loudly. I glanced at it, then pushed it further away from me so I didn't accidentally ruin the packaging.

I'd gone out an hour and a half ago to grab a new shirt so I could change out of the bloodstained Tee I'd been wearing all day, and while in the convenience store, I'd picked up a few bags of candy and a couple of those magazines Kyle was obsessed with.

Then when I'd made it to the cashier, I'd spotted one of those oversized ugly stuffed bears people tended to give to sick people, and paid for that as well. When the cashier offered to gift wrap it, I allowed her to, watching as she stuffed the items into a medium sized basket, covered it all up with some fancy clear wrapping paper and stuck a bow on the bear's head.

I probably should have stopped there, and feel a sense of satisfaction that he would have something nice to wake up to when he got out of surgery, but I felt the intense need to get him something meaningful, something to show him that I was ready to give whatever we had a chance.