Dylan
"What comes after H"? I mutter in dismay. I've been stuck on this letter time after time. I feel like the kid in first grade that can only count to ten. Everyone else my age is so far ahead and I'm stuck here stuttering on the eight letter of the alphabet.
"I. You got it babe don't worry, we got all the time in the world", Demi reassures, her hand rubbing my back as she leans into me from the chair in which she sits.
I slowly write the letter as neat as I can but I've never done this before a week ago. My handwriting sucks and my fingers hurt. Children shouldn't be put through this. I can't even sit still. My knee refuses to stop bouncing at a mile a minute and my left hand never seems to find comfort in holding one part of the paper to the table. Demi's trying her best but I know she's struggling too. I can tell by the tension in her fingers every time I ask what is after what or what a letter looks like. She frowns briefly and slightly but it's still a frown. I'm still disappointing her.
"I'm sorry, I can't remember anything until we get to R". I huff, dropping -or slamming rather- the pencil onto the table and glare as it rolls away from its attacker. I run my fingers thru my hair and grip it tightly, pulling in hopes of the pain jogging my memory but I receive no previously unknown information. Demi plants a kiss on my cheek but I still see it. The disappointment never left her face.
"It's fine, we've been doing this for over an hour anyway. We can continue tomorrow". I nod and Demi leans back into her chair. I still haven't taken my eyes off the pencil.
"Hey", she says, pulling my face to look at hers with a force I wasn't ready to resist, "it takes time, we'll get there, I promise".
"Don't make promises you can't keep, love".
"You don't quite on love and I'm doing this out of it, so it is a promise I can and will keep".
"I never said I wouldn't quite".
"You can't, you want a job don't you?"
Before I could give a snarky remark, the phone in my back pocket started to sing, and I was obligated to check on who it was. "What do you want Aiden"? I snap.
"Come here, it's Dylan, we got test results".
I hung up, probably against Aiden's preference. I don't have time for conversation anymore. I grabbed my jacket and my girlfriend, just muttering the words "Dylan" and "results" for Demi to pick up on the situation and she grabs her keys on the way out the door.
The drive was silent. It was eery how every huff the engine made was a giant disturbance. I didn't want to know when and where to turn to get to the hospital but I did, and so did Demi. She didn't speak a word, she just gripped the steering wheel with one hand and my thigh with the other. Every red light was blown. She knew the importance of this, so she didn't waste time abiding rules. I would have told her what I thought, asked a question or two maybe. But I didn't know where to start. Does he really have AIDS or HIV because those are two different things. What stage, what can they do, what can Dylan do. Who gave it to him. We don't know any of these questions. One definite thing is it doesn't have a cure. You live a while and then it takes over your immunity system and you die a little while later. I just don't know how long. It's slightly ironic we watched Dallas Buyers Club the last time we hung out alone. I won't bring it up to him though. He told me he'd be ashamed to have a disease or virus like that. It would show how he had the chance to be safe and smart with what he does but didn't take it. That and it's something labelled what it's not. No matter how much time passes, I still take time out of my day like now to connect that to life.
I looked over to Demi. She was staring at the road, not in the way you'd want someone going over twenty above the speed limit either. There was an anger in her eyebrows, an envy in her eyes, and a sadness on her lips. I took her hand in my shaky one. It's a side effect of my new medication but at least it's not turning on bitch mode without my consent. Demi looks to me and smiles, but the smile fades once the turn signal comes on to go to the white building. I wouldn't quite call in so much as a smile, real smiles brighten the eyes and face.
Monica was waiting for us in the hallway just passed the lobby. Within a minute and without a word we were rocking to to sway of the elevator. When we reached the level we were supposed to be on the doors opened and the three of us walked quickly down the twisting halls. It was about a minute before Monica stopped us in front of a room like all the others. "Don't judge him by how he looks, it's been a rough couple days".
"Months", I grumble. Demi elbows me in the ribs.
Monica frowns, her chocolate eyes looking at the ground, "he refuses to say a thing about this whole situation without you, Natalie. We know it's not good already, but he kicks the doctor out and yells that we have to wait for you".
"Why can't he just let the doctor speak? He knows I'd rush here as fast as I can".
"Because he loves you", Demi says from next to me. "Love never quits on love".
I understood. It flattered me, but it upset me too. The spacey look in Demi's eyes upset. I took her hand, knowing she needed a comfort only I could give her just to say what I didn't want to say. "Let's go", she said.
When we walked in, Dylan was laying with an IV in his arm and his eyes were closed lightly. He's awake, I see his eyes moving, but he'd rather not be. None of us want to be here. He can't see himself, but he's practically grey and empty. It's horrible seeing this. It must be what Demi saw during my surgeries.
"I thought they weren't keeping him", I whisper to Monica. Although she wasn't facing me, she heard me and just barely turned to whisper how the tests make him tired and the doctors want to make sure the medication doesn't cause a reaction.
"Hey rock star", Dylan says with a weak smile toward Demi. "Hey Natie, come here". Slowly, I let go of my girlfriends ' hand and shuffle across the room to the oversized teddy bear. Once I'm there, he looks at me with all the energy he has. It's so sad, the way his lips stretch but his eyes fade to another focal point halfway through.
"Rest", I whisper to him. I give Dylan a tight hug and a peck on the cheek that lasts a little longer than it should. I know because despite this not being a final goodbye, I let him feel the tears that rolled down my cheeks. I felt them coming but I couldn't move away from the pale presence drawing me in like gravity. When I finally forced myself away slowly, he looked at me like I'd never seen. There was a weakness in his eyes beyond the medication. There was some sort of horror and terror brewing inside a hidden shame. I knew what he was saying without hearing him speak or watching his lips move. I hear the footsteps just outside come to a slower pace and sigh, it's time. I whisper, "it's not just a gay disease", and return to Demi.
The white coated man is standing by Dylan when I regain my composure. "Hello", he begins,"I'm Doctor Smith. Are you family?"
Before anyone else can say otherwise, Dylan gives a weak yes and tells him to continue.
"Well, I don't know if any or all of you are aware of this, but Dylan has contacted HIV, or Human Immunodeficiency Virus. It appears that the virus has been active in his system for about six to eight months".
"Why didn't we see this coming?", Katia asked, her arms folded tightly to her chest.
"Well, HIV symptoms are much like flu symptoms if they are shown at all. Now, antibodies are active inside your body, Mr Mackenzie, but your CD4 T cell levels are at about a nineteen percent deficiency rate currently. Thankfully, this has been caught early enough where we have medication and therapies to slow these numbers".
"I'm sorry Doc, but I don't know what you're talking about".
"HIV destroys the immune system", I say looking at the floor, "those cells are in that system and even though your body is fighting it, the virus has killed nineteen percent of those. Once those are gone, AIDS can move in. At this rate, you'll have it within five years or so".
Dylan's face drops like an anchor into water. He looks like he's drowning. "Correct Miss", the doctor nods, "I very strongly recommend you take the medication and therapies Mr. Mackenzie. Although we cannot cure you of HIV, we can definitely expand your life expectancy and you can lead a very normal life.".
Dylan looks up, the attention he had gone before it can hone in on anything. "What should we expect?"
That shouldn't be the sentence that hits me the hardest, but it is. It's not just him who's infected, it's all of us. We promised each other to always stick around. Now one is gone and another is going to walk away slowly enough for all of us to feel the weakening and draining thing inside of him. I can't hear the doctor explaining what to expect, but I don't need to. I need to focus on the tears in my eyes and the anger in my nose because I can't loose it in front of Dylan anymore. That isn't fair to him because I'm not the one carrying this in my body, I'm just a spectator. I can't hold him back anymore either, he'll be mad at me for every time I did in the future. Not close, but when he's too weak to stand or throw a punch in a threatening way.
We're all in this together. While he loses himself, we lose his presence. Only the strongest can be frail and still fully there.
"Natalie please come back now", Demi whispers in my ear. I blink, looking away from the wall behind Dylan to find everyone watching me. "Don't do this to him now, they're fresh wounds".
"Are we going home now?" I ask, looking to Dylan.
"Maybe you are, I'm staying here for the night and then Aiden will drive me home".
I nod and hug Dylan for a while before walking away with Demi dragging me behind her as I lallygag my way around. I might as well be blind, because I never would have seen this coming
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