Something Beautiful

by Jenna Jones

Micah shook his head. "Maybe I pulled something at the gym. I've eaten a whole roll of Tums and it still hurts."

  "Poor baby. Where does it hurt?" He put his hand carefully on Micah's waist. "Here?"

  "No," Micah said as Dune's hand moved, "no, no -- ah!"

  Dune frowned. "That's not a good sign." He pressed his fingers a little harder, and Micah whimpered and pushed his hand away.

  "Ouch," he said plaintively.

  "Sorry, sorry. Does it feel like a pulled muscle?"

  "No," Micah said. "It just hurts like hell."

  "I think we should get you home," Dune said, worried, and he smoothed his hand over Micah's forehead, which felt warm and clammy. "I think you've got a fever."

  "Dune," Micah protested, but he whimpered again when he tried to move and eased back against the back of the booth.

  "I'll get Jamie and Ben and we'll get out of here. Okay?"

  "Okay," Micah mumbled in a disappointed tone. Dune kissed his forehead and slid out of the booth, around the other way so Micah wouldn't have to move, and went onto the dance floor. He found Ben and Jamie -- Ben's head was easily visible above most of the other dancers -- and tapped Jamie on the shoulder. Jamie turned to him and grinned.

  "Cutting in?"

  "Micah's not feeling well so I want to take him home."

  Ben draped himself over Jamie, resting his chin on Jamie's shoulder, and Jamie reached back to touch his face. "What wrong with him?" Ben said. "Has he had too much to drink already?"

  "No, it's not that. It's something in his stomach. It hurts when I touch him here." He pressed his hand to his own left hip, and Ben frowned.

  "That's not your stomach -- that's not even your intestines. That's, like, the appendix or the liver. We might need to take him to a hospital."

  "Shit," Dune said and went back to the booth, Jamie and Ben following behind. Micah was no longer alone: Gavin had joined him, lounging on the seat while Micah tried to look like he wasn't unsettled and hurting.

  "Dune," Gavin said cheerfully. "I was just saying hello to the kid, here. I'm amazed he can stay out this late on a school night."

  "It's Saturday," Micah mumbled.

  "Now is really not the time," Dune said wearily. "Come on, Micah. Ben thinks you need a doctor."

  "Are you leaving already?" Gavin said. "The night's still young."

  "Yes, we're leaving," Dune said as Micah obediently moved out of the booth and got to his feet. Dune put an arm around his waist to support him. "We'll have to talk some other time, Gavin."

  "The party's just getting started," Gavin said.

  "Some other time," Ben said pleasantly, "as Dune said." There was a muscle twitching in his jaw, though his tone was mild, and Dune smiled a bit as Gavin's expression faltered. It was so convenient sometimes, having a friend of Ben's size.

  "It's probably nothing," Micah said, though he clung to Dune.

  "We'll wait until a doctor gives the verdict, sweetheart," Dune said and smoothed back his hair to give him a kiss.

  "I'll bring the Jeep 'round," Jamie said and darted ahead.

  Micah leaned on Dune more heavily as they walked up the stairs that lead to the front doors. "Micah?" Dune said, and then exclaimed, "Micah!" when his knees buckled and he lurched to the floor.

  "Jesus --" Ben said, rushing forward, and then he backed off as Dune lifted Micah in his arms. Other dancers paused to look at them and a few said, "Is he okay? Did he overdose?" but most went right back to dancing.

  "He'll be fine," Dune said, feeing his heart speed up, and Ben moved in front of him to clear the way. "You'll be fine," he whispered to Micah, who just moaned in his arms, shivering.

  "It hurts."

  "I know, honey. We'll make it stop hurting as soon as we can." He followed Ben up the stairs and cuddled and kissed Micah reassuringly as Ben got their coats from the coat check.

  Ben lay Micah's over him carefully with a soft, "Hang in there, kiddo," and Micah struggled to smile.

  Jamie was waiting in the Jeep by the time they left Zebra, and Dune let go of Micah long enough to buckle him safely into the back seat. Micah whimpered again and reached for him, and Dune took Micah’s hand and kissed the back. "I'm right here."

  For once Dune was grateful Jamie drove like a fiend. When they reached the hospital Dune carried Micah into the emergency room -- the attending nurse took one look at them and got Micah on a gurney at once. He was wheeled away, surrounded by nurses and a red-headed doctor who barely looked older than Micah asking him, "Do you remember your name? Do you know what day it is? What pills have you taken tonight?"

  The door swung shut between admittance and the examination rooms, and Dune stood still, wanting to follow and knowing he couldn't. Jamie touched his back to reassure him. "They'll look after him."

  "They think he's overdosed."

  "Ben's telling the nurse what happened. They'll listen to him -- he looks like an authority figure. C'mon. Let's sit. They'll let us know what's going on as soon as they can."

  Dune nodded and followed Jamie to the rows of hard plastic chairs off the admittance section. There was a TV on, playing some entertainment news show, and a woman sat staring at it and tearing a piece of Kleenex into the tiny pieces.

  Jamie and Dune sat a row behind her and Dune leaned his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang. Jamie stroked his back, and after a few minutes Ben joined them and sat at Jamie's other side, taking his free hand. "I didn't know most of his vitals, but they let me fill out the paperwork, for now," he said.

  "Thanks, Benjie."

  "They're going to need to call his parents," Ben added. "They're his emergency contacts."

  Dune swallowed. "He's not going to like that."

  "Well, you know, he shouldn't have come out dancing if he wasn't feeling good," Ben said impatiently.

  "If he hadn't he'd be home alone, moaning on the floor," Dune snapped.

  "Hey!" Jamie said. "Stop that. We're all worried, but that's no reason to get pissy. All right?"

  Ben nodded and muttered, "Sorry, Dune."

  "Sorry, Ben," Dune said and rested his head on his hands with a sigh. "Explaining where he was to Ivy and Spencer isn't going to be any fun, that's all."

  "I doubt they'll care that much about that," Jamie said. "They'll be more concerned with getting him the care he needs."

  "They'll ask eventually."

  "We'll tell them the truth," Ben said. "He was out dancing with us. We're his friends. We don't have to mention that Zebra is a gay club if it doesn't come up, but if it does, we'll handle it."

  Dune nodded, then said, "Ivy wants Micah to fix me up with his sister," and Jamie snorted with laughter.

  "Shiloh's very nice," he said, chuckling. "But not your type."

  "Nope."

  "She's still dating Aidan, anyway."

  "I think this is his longest relationship ever," Dune marveled.

  "I'm more amazed she's managed to keep it from her parents for this long," Jamie said. "But she has her reasons."

  "Oh? They won't approve of Aidan -- 'cause, why? He's good-looking, smart and employed -- I don't know what more a person needs."

  "Aidan's Jewish. And Spencer's...you know. Spencer. Hellfire and brimstone, onward Christian soldiers, down with foreigners, Jews and homosexuals." Jamie sighed. "They're going to freak when they find out."

  "Remember how they reacted when they found out I'm Catholic," Ben said with a faint scowl. "You'd think I belonged to the church of kitten-slaughtering and goat-screwing."

  Jamie leaned his head on Ben's shoulder. "That's what you get for being part of the whore of Babylon."

  "I know. You'd think I'd be getting laid more."

  "Keep complaining and you'll never get laid again," Jamie said and then kissed his cheek.

  Dune smiled and looked away, to watch the woman in front of them. She had moved on from Kleenex tissues to one of the outdated magazines. A small pile of trash was accumulating in the seat beside her.

  There's a story, Du
ne thought. She brought her husband in and now is thinking about how she'll face life without him. They've been married for years -- were high school sweethearts -- and she doesn't even know where the checkbook is.

  Or, he thought as the tearing slowed and stopped, she's free for the first time in decades. No more making his lunch. No more washing his socks. No more laughing at his jokes. Just her own life now, what she wants.

  When he was a kid his parents had encouraged him to do this: to make up stories about people he saw. He'd forgotten about that game lately.

  "Do you have any paper?" Dune said to Jamie, who gave Dune the notebook and fine-tipped pen he had in his pocket. Dune scribbled a few notes about the woman -- about the rest of the night as well, about how beautiful Micah had looked when they were dancing and how Ben had blown off Gavin. It would make a column, if not a story -- but he was pretty sure it would make a story, somehow.

  He tucked the notebook away as the red-haired doctor from earlier came to them. "You brought Micah Ferguson in?" she asked them.

  "That's right -- we're his friends," Ben said.

  The doctor nodded and sat down with them. "I'm Dr. Munro and I've been looking after Micah. Micah's appendix is inflamed and we'll be removing it as soon as he's prepped for surgery. He was lucid enough to give permission and he wanted to see -- Dan?"

  "Dune," said Dune. "That's me."

  "Come with me, then, please." She stood and Dune followed her through the doors to a waiting room. "He might be a little incoherent from the pain killers," the doctor warned him and parted the curtains around Micah's bed.

  "Hey," Dune said, going to Micah and taking his hand. Micah's lips were white and he was still warm to the touch, and he clung to Dune's hand.

  "Dune, they're going to cut me open."

  "I know, Micah, but they have to."

  "I'm scared."

  "Honey..." Dune said and pulled over a chair so he could be eye-level with Micah. "Don't be scared. It's a pretty simple operation and you're in good health. And I'll be right here. I'll be waiting for you." Dune stroked Micah's damp hair back from his face. "Do you need anything?"

  Micah shook his head. "Stay with me."

  "I will, for as long as I can." He laid his head on the mattress beside Micah's and stroked the back of Micah's hand with his thumb. "You were beautiful tonight, by the way."

  "Thanks," Micah whispered. "I hoped you'd think so. I wanted to have a good time with you."

  "There'll be other good times." He looked up as the curtains parted and a nurse entered the cubicle.

  "We're ready for you, Mr. Ferguson," she said gently.

  "Okay," he said and squeezed Dune's hand tight.

  "You'll be fine," Dune promised and bent to quickly kiss him. Orderlies came in to transfer Micah from the bed to a gurney, and Micah clung to his hand for as long as he could.

  Dune walked back slowly to the waiting room and sat in his chair, and then leaned his head on Jamie's shoulder. Jamie put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. "How is he?"

  "Scared."

  "Poor mite."

  "He'll be fine," said Ben. "People don't die from having their appendix removed."

  "But if it's the first time you've had surgery it's still scary," Dune said.

  "Yeah," Ben admitted, "but he'll still be fine."

  Dune nodded, knowing Ben meant well, and Jamie kissed the top of his head again. "I thought I'd go hunt up some coffee," Jamie said. "Do you want some?"

  "Yes, please." Dune started feeling his pockets for his wallet. "And something to eat, too, if you can find anything."

  "My treat," Jamie said, waving Dune's wallet away. "Remind me how you take it?"

  "Regular," Dune said, but he was used to people not remembering how he liked his coffee.

  "Regular. Right." He stood and kissed both their foreheads and ambled off down the hall.

  Ben moved over a chair and held out his arm. "C'mon."

  Dune laughed wearily and leaned against him. "Is it that obvious?"

  "It's not often I see you fall apart. This feels like a night for the scrapbook." He chuckled. "'Dear Diary, I never thought it would happen to me, but I actually saw Dune Bellamy show emotion tonight!'"

  "Shut up," Dune said, poking him in the side. "I show emotion all the time. Dork."

  "I'm just trying to get your mind off your worries." Ben hugged him with one arm. "You've really got it bad for that kid, don't you?"

  "I've got something," Dune said into Ben's shoulder. "I couldn't even tell you what it is. I just --" He shook his head, unable to find the words.

  "Like having him around," Ben said.

  "Yeah. I mean, he may be a high-strung little twink, but he's my high-strung little twink. It's too quiet without him. Too predictable. Too normal."

  "He's going to be fine," Ben said again. "It's not like he was hit by a bus."

  Dune looked at him sidelong. "You're great at this comfort thing."

  "Now you know why I usually just give people cookies when they're down."

  After a few minutes Dune said, "Talk to me? Tell me something to get my mind off this?"

  "Okay," Ben said. "Let's see...I talked to Tristan earlier. They're discussing names. She thinks it's a girl."

  Dune smiled. "And in the grand tradition of her family they're doing to name her -- what? Fitzpatrick?"

  Ben laughed. "No. She says they have it narrowed down to about five names from her family and five from his. I may have to suggest Fitzpatrick, though. A girl called Fitz would be pretty cool."

  "Yeah, cool," Dune said. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, soothed by Ben's solid presence. It was such a nice change to let someone else look after him, even if it was just for a short while.

  "I could get used to this," he mumbled, and Ben chuckled.

  ***

  Micah's body hurt. His throat hurt, his feet were cold, there was something sticking in his hand and he had no idea where he was. He felt himself panicking, and the beeping in his ears grew faster and louder. "Why are you hurting me?" he sobbed, and then felt a cool pair of hands on his cheeks.

  "Micah," his mother said gently, "sh, darling. Sh. You're all right. You've had your appendix out. Relax, darling." She stroked his face, and a nurse in dark blue scrubs pulled the blankets over his feet.

  "Okay," Micah murmured and felt the prick of a needle, and slept again.

  He woke up a few hours later to see sunshine peeping under the blinds and his mother asleep on the low upholstered bench against the wall. His father, Spencer, sat in the chair beside the bed, watching him, and he smiled. "You're awake."

  "I think so," Micah said groggily and raised his hands to rub them over his face. One hand had an IV stuck into the back, and he frowned at it.

  "The nurse said you could have a little water when you wake up. Are you thirsty?"

  "Yes," Micah said, realizing he was parched. His father helped him raise the head of the bed and handed him a heavy, plastic mug with a straw. The water was lukewarm, but Micah drank it gratefully and then put the mug aside with a sigh. "When did you guys get here?"

  "While you were still in the operating room," Spencer said. "It was about three this morning. You had an exciting night, it sounds like."

  "Yeah." Micah leaned back and closed his eyes and wondered how many details they knew: if they knew he'd been out dancing, if they knew where he'd been dancing and who he'd been with.

  "Your friend Dune is still here," Spencer went on.

  "He is?" Micah perked up. "Can I see him?"

  "You should rest. I'll tell him you're awake."

  Micah swallowed and said, "I'd like to see him, Dad."

  "Later, son," Spencer said, and Micah sighed. "I'm grateful to him for getting you here, but visitation is restricted to family, strictly speaking."

  "Yeah," Micah said. He tried to relax against the thin pillow. "Okay."

  "So what were you doing last night? I couldn't get a straight answer from your friends."
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  "We were at a nightclub. I collapsed while we were dancing."

  "I see. You're not going to meet your future wife at a nightclub, Micah."

  Micah suppressed the urge to laugh with hysteria. "We were just having a good time. It's not always about meeting a potential spouse."

  "Why haven't you been out with that nice Bonnie Harris again? Her mother said she liked you."