Leaving Warlington was much more difficult for Charlie than he thought it would be. He'd always pictured leaving, but he hadn't pictured it this way. He thought he'd do it on his own with not sickness weighing him down and no anticipatory anxiety. Patrick had assured him almost every day leading to their departure date, but he still had butterflies and regrets when he zipped his bag for the last time.
Boxes littered the house he'd called home all his life. The house looked oddly empty without the furniture and all the odd things they had collected over the years. Patrick had arranged for most of the furniture to be moved into storage, which he'd pay for every month. Charlie had elected to take all his favorite things with, requiring them to use a U-haul van in addition to the car they'd be driving up to Sydney with. With addition to Ariel and Patrick's stuff, it all just couldn't fit in the car.
Patrick and Charlie had flown up to Sydney a month prior to look for a place; and Patrick already had an interview with a prominent hospital. They'd found a small house in a coastal suburb and bought it on the spot. Charlie wasn't so keen on buying the house, but Patrick wanted to make their transition to Sydney to not be as dramatic. The house they'd bought looked much like Charlie's house.
Charlie was grateful for Patrick's thoughtfulness, but he knew his life was about to change dramatically regardless of his dwellings. Sydney was much bigger than Warlington. It was busier. He didn't know anyone except Patrick and Ariel, and he was going to meet a new team of doctors. It would take a while to get used to them, more so because right off the bat they were going to pry into his personal life. It came with his disease, there was no escaping it.
"Ready?"
Charlie looked up from his suitcase. His eyes travelled in the direction of the voice to find its source. Patrick was standing at his bedroom door, leaning against the frame.
"I don't know," Charlie admitted while scratching his head. "It feels so weird leaving."
Patrick walked into the room. "Just remember why we're doing this," he said softly. Charlie still looked agitated so he grabbed his hands in his.
"You've moved twice in the last couple of years. I've never moved from Warlington," Charlie said. "I've always wanted to move. I just didn't think it would be this hard."
Patrick let the hands he was holding slide up to his waist. He cupped Charlie's face with his now free hands.
"Moving was hard for me too. The first time I did it because I was running away and most of the time I didn't feel anything. There were times at night in my bedroom when I wanted to stay, but that soon disappeared when I remember why I was running away. When I moved back I was anxious. My parents wanted me here and I...I wanted to here too and that scared me cause even though I didn't want to admit it to myself, you were the reason. I worried about coming back only to find you gone or married or something. I worried about leaving my cushioned life only to be faced with disappointment," he informed Charlie.
Charlie looked intrigued by what Patrick had said. He couldn't find anything to say to that, considering that he was hostile to Patrick up until just recently.
"I remember you told me you wanted to explore the world. Take this as an adventure. I'll be there with you," Patrick cut short the ensuing silence and took the time to give Charlie a short sweet kiss.
Charlie managed to smile even though the anxiety wasn't gone. He realized it would never go away, but it didn't mean much. Moving away, whether it was with Patrick or alone would always give him anxiety. That didn't mean it was a bad decision.
"Ariel is in the car, so I think we should get going now," Patrick said.
Charlie meant to hug Patrick tighter, but his hand acted of its own accord, pushing Patrick away instead. It wasn't a hard push, but Patrick felt it.
Charlie looked down and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It's...I didn't mean to do that."
The movements were frequent now. He dropped things. He couldn't be trusted with anything fragile. His arms swayed and his hands made writhing movements. It was almost as if his disease was trying hard to show itself to Patrick, give him a taste of his new reality; make him change his mind.
Patrick smiled and only hugged him.
The drive to Sydney was long and really uncomfortable for Charlie. He dropped his water on himself, requiring them to have four stops instead of the planned three. Patrick had no problems with stopping. Much of Charlie's discomfort was conceived in his head. He hated having Patrick and Ariel look at him with pity and treat him delicately. He sulked most of the drive there.
Patrick knew most of Charlie's behavior was the disease. He knew there would be times when he wouldn't be able to tell when it was Charlie or when it was the disease talking. He couldn't say he was prepared for it because he didn't know how it would go, but he could say he was in it for the long haul.
"We are here!" Patrick said excitedly as soon as he made the turn that would take them into the driveway of their new house.
Ariel peeked out the window. "You didn't tell me it's a stone throw away from the beach!" she screeched. "And it looks beautiful."
"Wait till you see the inside," Patrick said.
Charlie didn't say anything. He was still irritable. He didn't get out of the car either after it stopped and Patrick and Ariel got out. The two didn't seem to mind as they unloaded the car. The truck that was following them arrived a few minutes later.
Charlie watched as the men unloaded the rest of their belongings. He couldn't go out and help. He felt very much helpless. He was a hazard to any object he touched. He knew if he went out there and his body betrayed him, he wouldn't be able to live with the embarrassment. They would laugh and point fingers. It didn't matter that the two men who were unloading his bicycle were old enough to be his dad and should know better than to laugh. They would do it anyway.
His bicycle...why did he bring that old thing anyway? Patrick had been supportive of him bringing it and told him he could still ride it, but Patrick was biased. Patrick knew Charlie liked riding. He wouldn't have had the guts to tell Charlie that his symptoms already made it too dangerous for him to ride a bicycle.
Sure Charlie could still walk on his own and do continuous repetitive movements, but it wouldn't be long until he couldn't. He'd seen his mom deteriorate faster than the doctors predicted. There was no point bringing a bicycle to Sydney. Seeing it would be a painful reminder of what he couldn't do anymore.
He suddenly wanted to violently scream at the men to take the bicycle back into the truck and back to Warlington. He didn't want it. He never wanted to see it again. It would hurt seeing it. It had to go!
The slew of thoughts in his head was disrupted by a knock on the passenger side window. Patrick was standing outside with a smile on his face. He indicated for Charlie to lower the window. Charlie did do slowly.
"Hi," Patrick said. He looked like a teenager who'd just said their first ever words to their crush.
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Hi," his voice cracked, coming out like a whisper. It was then that he realized the tears on his cheeks.
"Aren't you going to come out?" Patrick asked, rubbing his feet against the grass he was standing on.
Charlie sighed.
"What's wrong?" Patrick asked gently.
"It's silly," Charlie replied looking down at his feet. He was at a stage in his disease when he still had insight. He could tell when thoughts weren't his own, but he couldn't prevent them.
"Try me," the other man said, with the smile on his face still there.
"I feel so helpless. I couldn't help you and Ariel, and when those men took out my bicycle...will I be able to ride it?" Charlie's voice at his last words was of desperation.
Patrick leaned on the window with both arms. He opened his mouth and closed it. He'd almost said "yes" but he knew that was a dangerous answer, and not accurate. He swallowed hard.
"Your chorea is progressive, a bit faster than I thought it would, but it's still manageable. I think your doctor will increase your medication dose. That should take care of that and I say you'll probably be able to ride," he said.
"Double the dose, double the side effects, right?" Charlie said.
Patrick moved away slightly and rested his hand on the roof of the car. What does he say to that? He knew what to say as a doctor. He'd talked patients into increasing doses despite the side effects because it was the only way the medication would work. As a boyfriend, he didn't know what to say. It was all too well that Fabiola did what she did. He wouldn't have been able to remain objective if he'd stayed on as Charlie's doctor.
"I think they'll be able to find the right dose for you," he replied.
"It's hard, isn't it?" Charlie said.
"What is?"
"Deciding what to say to me," Charlie supplied. "You want to tell me that an increased dose is the only way to go, but you can't because you don't want to upset me."
Patrick decided to tell him the truth. "Yes. And it's probably going to be harder for me to just sit by and watch if I feel your doctors are making stupid decisions".
Charlie chuckled humorlessly. "Why did we think this would work?"
"Because we love each other and would rather make each other miserable than anybody else," Patrick replied with a smile. "I don't know if this can work, but I know I don't want to be anywhere else. Any relationship is hard...and ours is just a little bit harder."
"Don't you ever get tired of reassuring me?"
Patrick opened the car door and extended his hand for Charlie to take. He pulled him out of the car.
"I never get tired of loving you."
Charlie smiled. "You don't deserve this shit."
I won't get into a debate of what I'd deserve, but I want you to know that I understand your feelings and fears. It's gonna get harder and harder to do things, but I really don't mind doing the things you can't, okay?" Patrick said. "If you want to ride so bad you can be my passenger. It's not the same, but you still get to feel the wind in your hair."
Charlie laughed. "I am not doing that!"
"But you're going down to the beach with me this evening, right?"
"Convince me," Charlie said with a challenging smirk.
Patrick snuck his arms around Charlie's waist and pulled him closer than he already was. Their bodies were only a nanometer from touching. Regardless of the absence of physical contact, Charlie could feel Patrick's heat in his belly, warming him up. It was much more different that the sun's heat. This one was comforting, and it didn't make him uncomfortable.
Patrick lowered his head so that his lips were in line with Charlie's. For some seconds he forgot that he was in public in full view of anyone who passed when his lips met Charlie's. It was a subtle kiss, the one that begged for me. Their lips were barely touching. They inhaled each other's air as if it was their own.
"Hey um...I'm kind of hungry and the house is a mess. Can we go out to eat?" Ariel's voice arrived on the scene, interrupting the moment. "Oh...I...get a room you too."
Charlie turned crimson.
Patrick chuckled and bit his lip, removing his arms from Charlie's waist. "There's more where that came from," he whispered so that only Charlie could hear. "So what do you say to going out for some fish and chips?" he asked loudly.
"I'm in," Charlie replied and coughed, moving slightly away from Patrick. He wasn't one for public display of affection and didn't fancy the idea of being caught in the act again by his sister. He'd always been the conservative shy type.
"Let me just speak to these guys and we'll go," Patrick said indicating the moving men, who were done unloading their belongings.