Recovery

You know, maybe it's just me, but when I'm invited to stay the night at someone's place just because it's late, particularly when it's someone I just met through a friend in, like, a totally platonic way, I don't assume that I'm invited to spend the night in their bed.

Marcellus totally isn't down with the whole don’t-make-assumptions rule.

He just followed me into my bedroom, and slipped right past me into my bathroom. I was so tired I just sort of blinked at the closed bathroom door totally unsure how to react. I ended up changing into a pair of pajama pants and a tank and sitting on the edge of the bed until he came out. When he did he was wearing a pair of black boxers, and nothing else. I gave him an embarrassed smile and disappeared into the bathroom to brush my teeth and procrastinate while deciding what to do if I walked out and found him in my bed.

A word of advice: if you ever find yourself in this position, don't decide the best thing to do is to wing it.

Marcellus was, in fact, in my bed, half covered by the sheet and talking on Elvis*. I walked around the bed to the other side - which wasn't my usual side closest to the bathroom by the way - and got in. He smiled at me so I sort of smiled back I think, then beat my down-pillow into submission and hunkered down to sleep.

I don't know who he was talking to, but he was speaking quietly and telling whoever it was that he wouldn't be home and not to worry but a friend of Rick's needed his help. I guess that was me. Yeah I need help... but what sort of remedy Marcellus was going to administer had me anxious. No sooner had I stretched out on my stomach and closed my eyes to sleep did I feel a warm hand on my back. It made me jump at first, but then it was so soothing that I sighed and relaxed.

And that's the last thing I remember. I don't remember falling asleep, I don't remember when he stopped rubbing my back, I don't remember him hanging up the phone, and I definitely don't remember him pressing to my side and wrapping a strong comforting arm around my waist.

But that's where we are now. It looks like it's maybe dusk outside by the orangey color of the light filtering in through the crack in my curtains. Marcellus is breathing heavily behind me, his side rising and falling as he exhales warm air across the back of my neck. I'm really glad he made assumptions last night, because this feels good.

Rick hasn't called, so I am assuming Dave's OK. I feel really guilty, lying here all comfortable when Dave is so… god I don't know what Dave is. Depressed? Sick? Over-stressed? I roll toward the edge of the bed and slip out from under Marcellus's arm. He rolls flat on his stomach, snores and shifts, but doesn't wake up.

After my shower I make some coffee and dial the hospital. Several annoying transfers later, I finally get Dave's room. It's good to hear Rick's voice.

"Hey Sean."

"Hi Rick…" I say with that questioning tone that means I'm saying more than just hello. Dave looks better than he did when I left last night… he has a little more color and it looks like maybe Rick combed his hair.

Rick's answer makes me relax a bit. "He's sleeping."

"Sleeping-sleeping? Or like, unconscious-sleeping?"

"The docs say he's actually asleep. You coming by soon?"

I sigh, relieved, and even smile a little. "Yeah I was just going to head over… I wanted to see if you needed anything."

"Nah, I took tomorrow off and I'm planning on heading home and sleeping tonight and checking in again tomorrow morning."

"Yeah that works… Marcellus is still here. I'm just gonna leave him my key and let him sleep. I'll take the bus over."

"Alright. See you soon, then."

"Yep, soon. Bye."

I hang up the phone and head back into the bedroom where Marcellus is still completely out, and I leave him my key and a note on the bedside table by his watch. It's a swatch, which makes me grin because it's ticking so loudly I can't believe either of us slept through it.

With one last glance at the beautiful body in my bed, I grab my guitar and head out into the evening to catch a bus to the hospital. Dave is still asleep when I get there, and Rick pulls me out into the hall to talk to me so we don't wake him up.

"He's going to be fine, Sean."

I nod. "Thank you for staying with him, Rick, I was such a wreck…"

"Sean, I know he'd appreciate all your concern, but you're not his keeper, alright? You're not responsible for him…"

Except that I feel like I should be. I don't know if it's because… well, because of Nick, or because, of all the people he could have called when he changed his mind, he chose to call me. "Rick…"

"Sean, did you know he was positive?"

I look at Rick. Rick's been too good to me, and too good to Dave not to know the truth. But I don't have to tell him everything, do I? At least not right now. I'm standing at an angle where I can see Dave as Rick as I talk. I look over at his pale face. "Yeah, I knew. He just found out. He told me yesterday… or… was it the day before? I'm sort of disoriented since I slept all day."

Rick pauses, as if is about to say something.

"What is it?"

"Sean," Rick has a serious look on his face. There's another pause and the words that come out of his mouth next are carefully spoken. "Did he get it from Nick?"

I freeze and hold my breath, snapping my eyes up to meet Rick's. I can feel my chest tighten and tears threaten in my eyes.

"Sean, I know about them." Rick says somberly. "Dave told me the day after it happened…"

He told Rick, but he never told me. I drop my head, look down at my sneakers and roll my ankles out and back again while I figure out how to answer his question. He's not going to like what I say, I know. I'm embarrassed for myself and ashamed, or something, on Nick's behalf. I nod slowly. "He says so, yes."

The look in Rick's eyes hurts more than I had expected. I know what he's thinking. I know he didn't like Nick, though he was always very tactful about his feelings around me. He works his jaw and takes a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly and looking up and past me. He chews his lip and shakes his head.

"I better go."

"Rick…"

"Sean," Rick warns, "I'm going to say something I'll regret. Just let me go."

I stuff my hands in my pockets and nod. Rick steps to one side and storms past me, brushing my shoulder with his accidentally on the way by, and causing me to take a step back for balance. I stand there for a moment breathing, trying to be understanding and empathetic. When I look back at Dave I'm reminded that Nick wasn't the only one that made a bad decision. Rick can be upset, but he can't put it all on Nick, it's not fair.

I go back into Dave's room. It's a double, but he doesn't have a roommate yet, which is nice.

I might not Dave's keeper, but I know that despite Nick's own denial of his illness and his concrete exterior, he would have wanted Dave to be looked after. I know he'd feel responsible and want to do whatever he could, and in his memory, and because Dave is a friend of mine, I want to be there for him.


*From a former installment, Sean has a phone in his bedroom that is a plastic replica of Elvis playing his guitar.