Shattered

Seventeen

I would never forget the day of my 36th birthday, in 1985. One of the worst days of my life.

I'd been weak lately, and losing a lot of weight. I was sick all the time and I had lost the little color I had, and my friends finally talked me into going to the doctor. More recently, I'd started coughing up small amounts of blood.

So I managed to catch all my friends at once, on a weekend. It was supposed to be a fun night. But they had to know.

But looking at them, laughing and drinking, I didn't know if I could. But then I started coughing violently, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. I wiped the drops of blood on my jeans.

"You okay, Charlie?" Two-Bit asked.

"I'm f-" I started, but I stopped in the middle of my sentence. "No. I'm not."

"What's wrong?" Steve frowned, and I felt a little bad I hadn't told him first.

"I've got it, guys," I said, staring at the floor. The bottle of beer in my hand felt too heavy. I wondered how long I had.

"Got what?" Pony asked slowly.

"Don't act like it ain't obvious." I swallowed, trying to ignore the immense pain in my throat.

"AIDS..." Soda finally said in a quiet voice. Everyone stared at me, awaiting my confirmation. I nodded, and the silence hung heavy for a minute before all of them started talking at once.

"Ah!" I cut all of them off. "Save it. I don't want any apologies or nothin'. Let's all just pretend that I'm not dying, alright?"

Everyone seemed to be alright with that.

.

I had fought for three years, but I was getting weaker and weaker as each day went by.

"Steve," I held his hand, gently rubbing circles with my thumb. "Soon."

"It's too soon," he sobbed. "You can't die."

"I'm not immortal, my love," I said. "Could you do me one last favor?"

"Anything."

"Can-" I slipped out of consciousness for a moment.

"Charlie? Charlie, wake up," He shook me awake. "Oh, thank god."

"M'sorry." I mumbled. "Can you call our friends? I want to see them one more time."

"Sure." Steve left for a moment and came back. "They'll be here as soon as they can."

I nodded, and inhaled sharply when I felt a pain in my chest. Is this it? I asked.

I hated that I was dying in the hospital. This isn't how I wanted to die. I didn't want to die so old. Why couldn't I have died with my brother? It didn't matter anymore, because I'd be seeing him soon enough. Or at least I prayed I was.

"Steve," I could feel the world fading away, and numbness was spreading over me. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Steve sobbed, pressing a kiss to my hand. "I love you so much."

"I'm sorry, my love." Was the last thing I said, and then everything was gone.

I could be with my friends now. I had learned to love someone after all. I wondered if Dally would be proud of me. I would be finding out soon enough.