Surviving the Merge

by C P Harris

  “It’s not a motorbike. I had to know. I had to come,” he said, on the verge of tears.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I murmured, embracing him tighter. “Does Debbie know?”

  “Yeah. I told her I would call once I found out…”

  I’d have to tell Max that a statement would need to be made at the center. If it made the news, everyone would be panicking.

  “She’s in bad shape, but she’s strong. She’ll pull through. Give us a few minutes to get ourselves together, then we’ll all go up.”

  I looked to Ash, and he got the hint. “I’ll take him to the break room to grab something to eat. Meet us down there when you’re done,” he said.

  I mouthed a silent “thank you” to him as they left.

  Damon and I showered in the tiny bathroom and put on the clothes we came in, not wanting to walk around the hospital in scrubs. We got upstairs in time to see the doctors coming out of Sam’s room, about to address Mrs. Bailey and Norman. Our footsteps pounded as we picked up our pace.

  “Her vitals are good. There isn’t much fluid draining out of her lungs anymore, and what is draining is clear. That’s also good. We want to take her for another brain scan today to see if the bruising we saw got any worse, better, or the same. We’ll also be checking on her liver. Once we have the results, we can form a better game plan. Ideally, we’d want to remove the liver packing and close her up in a couple days. Then, maybe a day or two after that, we’d like to remove the breathing tube and wake her up. We’ll know more about the head injury when we can actually talk to her. Someone will be around shortly to wheel her down to imaging.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Norman said.

  “I’m not leaving. I wouldn’t leave you here. Don’t ask me to leave her.”

  We were on day four, and Sam had been steadily improving. They took her back into surgery and closed her up, the drains in her lungs had been removed, and another scan showed that the bruising of the brain was shrinking. Tomorrow, they would bring her out of sedation.

  “Justin, we’ve been here for four nights, and we only had a bed for one of them. We both need rest and a good meal. Her family is here, Ash is here, and Max said he’d stay the night if that puts you at ease. She would want you to take care of yourself. We’ll be back before they wake her up tomorrow.”

  “We have enough supplies here. We don’t need to go home. I know you have to get back to work; if you need to leave, I understand. I’ll be fine.”

  His look turned dark. “You either walk out of here willingly, or I drag you out. But make no mistake, we are leaving.”

  “You can’t make me leave,” I whisper-shouted.

  Coming closer and backing me into the wall, he said, “Watch me.”

  Plowing into the living room, I whirled around to face him. “What now, Damon? You got me here—what now? I go upstairs like a good boy and go to sleep?” I asked, childishly. He walked in maturely, and it irrationally pissed me off further.

  “No. First, I’m going to take care of you.”

  He had to be fucking with me. “Is that why you brought me here? My best friend is laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life, and you want sex? Jesus, Damon—”

  “Would you say that I’m,” he paused to find the right word, “heartless?”

  He moved on before I could answer.

  “Would you even say I lack compassion? Or that I’m selfish?”

  My shoulders drooped, and I ventured to the couch, dropping onto it unceremoniously. fell “No. To the first two. The third could be debated. You always try to do what you think is in my best interest. Although we may disagree on what that is from time to time, your intentions always reflect what you sincerely believe in your heart to be what’s best. I also know that you care about Sam, and I know you’re only trying to help me. I just want her to be okay.” I closed my eyes, resting my head along the back of the sofa.

  “We’ve come a long way, Justin. Taking care of you doesn’t always equate to sex. Do you trust me to know what you need?”

  I cracked one eye open to find Damon standing in front of me. “Yes, I do,” I said defeatedly.

  “Don’t think tonight. Hand over the control. Or I take it.”

  Thinking over the options presented to me, I opted to go with the less painful choice, for once. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Let go of your anger, and before you argue that you aren’t angry, let’s not forget I’m an expert on the subject. It’s adding fuel to your already burning emotions. Sam’s an adult. She gets to make her own choices. Driving in those conditions—on a motorcycle no less—was a bad choice, but still hers to make. When she wakes up, she’s not going to need you to remind her of how bad things are because of her decision. She’ll figure that out all on her own. She’ll need her friend: your support, your love, and your forgiveness.”

  I soaked up every word, and, in giving up control to him, I gave up my hard feelings as well. Free and unburdened, I asked, “What else?”

  “Take a real shower and put on something comfortable while I sort out a real meal.”

  Rising from the couch, I intended to intimately clutch my arms around him, but my limbs were intercepted and restrained at my sides.

  “I can’t be that. Not now,” he said.

  The firm set of his mouth screamed “don’t push,” but the look in his eyes spoke of nothing but regret.

  “It’s okay. I don’t expect you to switch it on and off whenever it suits me,” I said. He released me, and I backed up. Searching his gaze for a sign that he was okay. He smirked, and I left the room to go do as he instructed.

  My muscles relaxed inch by inch as the hot water pummeled down on me. My mind drifted to Damon and the differences between the him of today and a measly five nights ago. “My pain is no longer the biggest thing in the room,” he’d said. That might have been true, but he wasn’t without his struggles.

  The moments at the hospital when he’d excuse himself for no apparent reason. As if being in such close proximity to my emotions, so out there and so raw, shifted his body into fight-or-flight mode. With Blake rescuing him no longer an option; his only alternative was to escape. I’d been too consumed with Sam’s ordeal to really take the time to talk to him about it, but maybe that changed tonight.

  Drying off and running a towel through my hair, I stepped into the closet and selected the first pair of jersey bottoms off the top shelf. Blake’s gray lounge pants were underneath. The ones that hung low on his hips and traced the outline of his cock. My favorites. I picked them up, bringing them to my nose. They still smelled like him. Will I ever smell this smell again? Will Damon emit this scent with time? One would think it impossible for them to smell different—but they did. Tossing them back where they were, I slipped into my pants and scrubbed my hair with the towel one last time before tossing it in the hamper on my way out the door.

  “Mmmm, what smells so good?” I asked, jogging down the stairs, nose first.

  Looking up from the container he’d just placed on the counter, he said, “Italian.”

  “Fantastic,” I said, and from the sounds of it, my belly agreed.

  We’d finished dinner and were now sprawled on our backs on the living room floor, heads turned to the ceiling, stuffed full and unable to move. Damon had changed into those gray lounge pants—an unconscious decision on his part. He wore them once before. Before knowing how much I liked them on Blake. Now, I didn’t think he thought anything of it when he slipped into them, and I opted not to point it out. Sometimes it was okay to see the changes and roll with it. They were meshing together, and for once, the thought didn’t riddle me with some form of fear.

  “How much longer can you play hooky?” I asked.

  “I have a couple conference calls tomorrow morning, but I can take those from here. The day after, I’ll need to drive in. It’s unavoidable; Josh has been covering for me, but there’s only so much he can do.”

  “Will you commute here after
work?”

  “I need to see Julie that evening, and then I have a seven o’clock meeting the following morning. It won’t make sense for me to drive back here. I’ve asked Ash to stay with you, unless you need me here? Don’t hesitate to tell me.” He turned to his side and traced my navel. “I’ll make it work.”

  “I don’t need Ash to babysit me. I’m a grown man.” Typical Blake…Damon.

  “I should reschedule with Julie and come back here from the office—”

  “I’ll be fine, Damon. I’ll be at the hospital with everyone else. It’s okay, really.” Desperate for a subject change, I asked, “What will I do with all my free time? I mean, once Sam gets the all-clear, which should be soon.” I chose to believe that. “The fall dance session doesn’t start up for another month. I suppose I could do something else at the center. Maybe I’ll look into opening my own school.” I’d never thought about it before, but now that I’d put it out there it didn’t sound half bad. I rolled my head in Damon’s direction. His smile told me he thought it was a great idea.

  “Would it be here in Chadwick? In Kisla? Would you still teach at the community center? You know, they’ve really got to give it a name.”

  Laughing, I told him I’d bring it up with management. “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. I’ve always seen my time here as having an expiration date. I thought I’d be a visitor, even though I love those kids and what I’m doing for them, what they’re doing for me.

  “I don’t want to abandon them, but I like our life in Kisla. I swore I’d never leave it,” I said ruefully. “Plus, you commuting everyday isn’t sustainable, and I’m not choosing anything over you.”

  He leaned over me, pushing my damp hair off the side of my face. “We’ll figure it out. You can have it all.”

  I gazed up at him. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  “Yes, I do. The day my heart started to beat again. After…” He left the rest unsaid.

  I melted. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

  He sucked in air, releasing it as his words tumbled out. “I wasn’t able to before.”

  Raising my head a few inches off the ground, I stole a quick kiss. “So, tell me about the day you were brought back to life.”

  “It was the first week of school, right after homeroom. The halls were packed. Everyone trying to get where they needed to be next. Through the sea of students, I saw you from behind. Your hair—I noticed it right away. Thick, blond to the point of being white, it hung to the middle of your back, and I swear it came with its own lighting. There’s no way it belonged to a guy, I thought. Then I took in your clothes and more importantly the way you moved. Masculine, yet graceful. Feline. You walked with purpose. Not a step wasted. I claimed you as mine right then.”

  He took my breath away. Hearing him express himself in that way would take some getting used to. “Do you remember the pledge you made to me the night before you were set to leave for college? I had been freaking out all week that you were leaving—”

  “Even though my school was only two hours away?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I remember it. Blake wrote it, and I butchered it.” He kissed along my jawline.

  “Say it to me,” I begged.

  He groaned, dropping his head back. “So cheesy, and I couldn’t say it with finesse. I was an idiot to think I could.”

  I laughed. “It was cheesy, and you sounded like a robot, but I loved it anyway. Tell me, please.”

  Damon sighed, allowing his full weight to crush me. His gaze asked if I was really going to make him do this. Mine said: hell yes.

  He grew serious. “I come to you in worship, for you are all that is holy. And although you surrender, it is I who kneels before you. You are my sustenance and my church. Within the walls of your body is where I find my faith. No one can turn me against you or take me from you because my loyalty will always be to you. There’s nothing else for me in a world without you, but while we are both part of this world, you are mine. If there is a life to be lived after this one, you will still be mine. I’ll sacrifice all for you, and I will never let anyone come between me and mine. This, I pledge to you.” His smile started off timid and shy, then turned smug. Yeah, he finessed the shit out of that.

  I kissed him with patience; it stretched and deepened as the minutes ticked by. Too soon the tension built as the tenderness became too much for him. Breaking away, I told him, “Do what feels natural to you in the moment. At any given moment. It will all feel good to me.”

  The crease between his brows smoothed. With a finger under my chin, he raised my gaze to his. “I love you, Just.”

  I hadn’t heard that name in so long, and Damon had never before told me he loved me. Not in those words. I nearly wept. “I love you, Damon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A lot happened after Sam woke up. After two weeks in the hospital, she was sent home with an intensive physical therapy protocol. Her limp was barely noticeable now, and with time, the doctors said it would go away completely.

  Since I had a couple weeks off before the fall session began, Damon and I spent that time at the condo in Kisla. We spent time doing normal things like running together, going to the movies, dinner dates, and cozy nights at home. We continued our sessions with Julie, even having dinner at her house one night. Finally meeting Phillip. He and Damon spent hours talking in Phillip’s study while Julie and I chatted amongst ourselves. I had to physically drag him out of there as the night grew old.

  There were moments when I feared that I’d lost some parts of Damon that I wanted to keep. Until one evening when Max called wanting me to meet him at a pub in Portman—a town between Kisla and Chadwick—to see The Covers. Sam had converted him. I’d told Damon our plans, and his response was, “Okay.”

  I followed it up with, “I’m going to Max’s for the night afterwards. It’s been a while since we hung out. We could make a night of it. Get caught up, you know?”

  Damon fisted the front of my shirt, lowering his head to mine. “Don’t poke the bear, Justin.”

  My heart did a happy dance. Damon hadn’t strayed too far from the surface.

  Things between us had improved in other areas as well. Our communication strengthened, and he no longer struggled with guilt regarding the pace of his progress in any given area. The painting of Benji moved back to the foyer wall. I would hear Damon talking to him at times. Apologizing mostly, and, with every apology, he released some of the blame he carried.

  We still hadn’t mastered lovemaking, but we’d get there. We were having fun trying.

  I decided to open a dance academy in Chadwick. Although it would no longer be in the community center, it would be a part of it. We were building on the lot next to it. All the kids from the center would be allowed. The plan was to also have non-center members enrolled, ages two through adulthood. I was excited for the future.

  I officially resigned from The OBH. Holding on to it as a crutch, something that I could fall back on if I didn’t succeed out in the world, wasn’t fair to me or Michael—who received my Ballet Master title permanently upon my withdrawal.

  So, here we were, a few days before Thanksgiving, and we’d just arrived at the center for the unveiling of the library that Damon’s donation made possible. Sam conversed in a corner with Pete. I found it puzzling that she was so clueless about his feelings toward her. He’d told me that he was going to marry her one day. I pointed out their six-year age difference, but it mattered none to him.

  “Can I please have everyone’s attention?”

  The crowd quieted and turned to Max. Everyone made it to the big event: the center volunteers, teachers from the high school, the principal, the kids, and community members. Even the chancellor came down.

  “I want to start off by saying this wouldn’t be possible without the kindness and generosity of this man right here.” Max gestured toward Damon, and Damon handled the spotlight with his usual stoicism.

  “I’m not only talking abou
t his checkbook. He cares. I see it, and so does everyone else in this room.” Looking directly at Damon, he said, “You give of your time, and not just to make sure that I’m not hitting on Justin.” The crowd laughed. Damon, not so much.

  “I see you talking to the kids, playing with the little ones, giving all of them a piece of yourself. You livestream your production meetings here, so the kids that are interested in technology and... whatever else you do can see what it’s like in that world. You’re working with Samuel to create an application for one of his wacky but brilliant ideas.” More laughs, and this time Damon did too. “We see you, and we hope that you’re proud and approve of what we did here.”

  The curtain dropped, and gasps could be heard all around. We faced two oversized, oak wood doors that had a dozen carvings of a laughing boy with curly hair. The real showstopper was the sign hanging above the library doors that read “Benjamin’s Branch.” Damon touched the carvings reverently and then opened the tall double doors. After a brief hesitation in the doorway, he took my hand, and we walked in.

  By far the biggest library I’d ever seen, outside of an actual public library. A portion of the ceiling had been taken down, and a large winding staircase sat in the center of the room. Wide enough that five people could walk it side by side comfortably. The built-in bookshelves along the walls went all the way up to the second level and were stacked with books. Cubbyholes and nooks and crannies were stuffed to the brim with them too.

  A bright, red sign shaped like an arrow hung from the part of the ceiling still in place. It read “Benjamin’s corner, that way.” I peered in that direction. Oversized floor pillows and colorful bean bag chairs were scattered in front of a fireplace. Kids could grab a book, hang out in a more relaxed way, and read.

  Another sign, this time a blue arrow. It read, “Benjamin’s wizards and wanderers, this way.” We went that way. Harry Potter, The Lord of The Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and similar themes dominated the section. The long wooden table in the center was a carved replica of Harry’s Firebolt racing broom. Max chiseled and varnished the cast of animals from Narnia into wooden chairs that surrounded the table.