Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2003 06:24:00 -0400
From: Noni Y. Mouse <nonimouse440@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kiss of Life: Chapter 3

Reader Beware! This chapter reveals the secret that Mike has kept within
himself for so long. It might make many of you uncomfortable, but its one
stop on the journey to contorting love. Love is not always comfortable. I
urge you to read this chapter without reservations. Please feel free to send
me some feedback NoniMouse440@hotmail.com , and let me know what you think
of how it's going. This work is MY creative property, so no one had better
copy it. Go get your own! If you're not allowed to view this kind of
material in your state, I think that you should try to change the
legislation. Thanks much-
                                       NM




Chapter 3:

	"Damnit! Don't tell me that I passed out again," thickly slurred and
groaned a very sore and very dizzy Mike. He was first aware of pressure
against his back, and then the feeling as though the bed were continually
slipping out from under him. He wanted the ride to stop... stop... stop the
ride... someone stop the ride.... In the dark.....
	He promptly leaned over, sure he'd fall to the ground, and threw up on what
seemed like his descent. He couldn't exactly see what was going on around
him- the world was hazy gray at best. But someone's arms... he thought they
were arms... pressed against his shoulders, preventing him from falling out
of bed. He brought his arms weakly up to pat the hands that pressed back on
his collarbones.
	"Thanks" Mike slurred out. It was a feeling worse than being totally drunk.
His muscles felt rubbery and without central control. There was a horrible
sense of disassociation that ran from the hair follicles on his head to the
hair on his toes. He groaned as the hands on his collarbones pressed him
back against the sheets, and covered him with a blanket. Sighs of
contentment purred thru his parched and burning throat as someone ran a
blessedly cool washcloth across his hot balmy forehead. His eyes remained
closed against the harsh grayness that he assumed to be the overhead lights.
	"Mr. Dana... maybe we should have been more... explicit... about giving you
instructions for your stay at this hospital. Since it seems that our staff
has neglected to let you in on our rules, then I shall do so myself
personally." Mike recognized the voice immediately as belonging to Dr.
Robbins. If he had the strength to blush, he would have, because truly
indeed he did feel foolish. Common sense- plain common sense to not bend
over after having lost any amount of blood... the sudden surge of blood to
the brain... the standing up alone would have caused serious issues...
	"Mr. Dana. We're going to ask that you please refrain from moving about on
your own. That includes standing, bending over, going to use the restroom,
and trying to handle your own... laundry." Mike did not miss the smile that
had slipped into the doctor's voice. He wanted to bury himself deep into the
sheets and disappear into a white cotton underworld of blessed silence.
	"However, in all seriousness Mr. Dana, do you feel..." and he proceeded to
go through a checklist of symptoms, to which Mike either grunted yes or no.
In the end, the doctor sat quietly for a moment, seeming to look out the
window with great interest at an ordinary brown bird perched on the sill. He
gathered his breath, and turned to Mike.
	"It had something to do with the young man that was in here, didn't it?" he
asked softly. Mike stiffened visibly, and didn't respond vocally; but there
was no need. His obvious physical reaction told the good doctor all that he
thought he needed to know.
	"Uhm... Mr. Dana... Mike... I have no problems with homosexuals, at all. I
want you to understand that. My best friend for life is gay, and he and his
partner are the greatest people I know in this world... besides my wife and
my kids, of course. But, we let them take care of our kids, our home... each
other. I trust them with all my heart, so please don't take what I have to
say next as coming from a homophobic point of view." Mike stiffened even
more, his rigid body one long, lean receptor to what he expected to be the
doctor's criticism. He felt tears already welling behind his welded shut
eyelids, and he knew that as the doctor spoke on, they'd inevitably spill
down his cheeks as rivers of self pity and shame.
"I do have to tell you that we here at the hospital would greatly appreciate
couples... uhm... refraining from sexual activity while patients are here
for observation. We understand the feelings that surround...." And Mike
broke in, loudly and startled, both by what the doctor was saying, and by
the sound of his own hoarsened, barking voice.
"We didn't have sex!" He'd said it loudly enough that the nurse passing by
the room stopped in her tracks and swung her head around to stare into the
room. Her wide-eyed expression reflected the genuine surprise that she felt,
and the curiosity that demanded to know who this patient was talking about.
Her mind was already at work forming all kinds of possibilities as her feet
began to work a few seconds later, and carried here away from the door.
Mike looked up, wide eyed, into the doctor's calm dark blue eyes, hiding
behind the sharply reflective glasses he wore. He realized he was trapped in
their glare. He would share his secret- even if against his will, because he
was trapped in the glasses. It was as if he were in a funhouse of mirrors,
and had nowhere to run from himself, because every time he looked in front
of himself, there he was. The dark blue drew him suddenly away from his own
haggard and pale appearance, into a sense of pulsating tranquility. The
sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears, and he felt further away from
himself than he'd ever felt before.
"I.... I... can't ... have sex with him... the sheets... I'd had an
accident... it's been so long... since I've been that close to...anyone...
and he.... And he... and I..." Mike stuttered, letting the sentence hang,
daring the doctor's eyes to draw him further into the vein that had been
opened. The doctor said nothing; he just sat there, looking calmly into
Mike's green eyes. A sparkle in those eyes betrayed the lack of life Mike
continually felt coming from within himself. The doctor raised one eyebrow,
and that was all it took. Mike was beckoned further out of himself, and he
supposed he could feel an almost tug as his secret was wrenched away from
his defenses, and set in line on his tongue behind other things he was about
reveal.
"I want him. Oh God, Dr. Robbins, I want him so bad it feels as if my soul
is on fire. I want to be close to someone, Dr. Robbins... I don't have
anyone at all... I'm so fucking alone" Mike broke down into a sob and a
groan at this point, his hoarse voice never failing to accentuate the
feelings that were being released from his soul. He suddenly felt crushed by
all that he was going thru- being alone, suddenly being attack, suddenly
meeting Chris, suddenly wanting Chris beyond all reasoning because he was so
close... and now... and he had to tell. He absolutely had to tell. It would
crush him if he didn't and he knew it.
"I... I can't have anyone... I'm... I'm no good for anyone, Doctor. I've
been hurt so bad... so fucking bad... it keeps coming back... I can't get
rid of it, Doctor... no matter what I do... no matter how I try to embrace
it, how I try to forget it, how I try to live above it... Doctor... it keeps
coming back... I hate him... I hate the one who did it to me... I hate him
so fucking much I could kill him." The rage in Mike grew, till he was
sitting up away from the bed, straining to stay upright and straining to
keep speaking. His green eyes were glittering, and his skin had broken out
in a sweat. Dr. Robbins was startled, and drew back slightly, scared and
worried for his patient. He reach a hand forward to steady Mike, but Mike
grabbed it, and before the Doctor could open his mouth to calm him, Mike
spoke.
"Please Doc... I'm so close... I... if you speak I wont be able to say it...
and it will crush me... and I'll die. I'll die Doc..." Mike's pleading voice
and hungry eyes stabbed into the doctor with such an intensity, he felt as
if he had no choice but to let Mike carry on. He could only watch dazed,
unsure of what he'd begun, but knowing that he'd have no choice but to stick
with it to the end... and he didn't exactly know what that meant, but he'd
have to see it through to that exact spot; the end.
"I... can't be with him. I want him oh fucking God why me? What did I do?
Why the fuck did this have to happen to me!" Mike barked out between sobs.
It was all coming out now- flowing out of him. River of self-pity be damned-
the tears that were falling from Mike's eyes were flushing out his system of
long hoarded hurt, long hoarded shame... and a stash of guilt.
"I... I was hurt bad... when I was a kid, doctor. I was hurt real bad... but
not just once... several times... my uncle... he kept at me, doc... he kept
at me and kept at me... and I thought it was good... it made him pay
attention to me, doc... but Doc... he didn't care about me... he didn't love
me... how was I supposed to know, Doc? I was only seven!" Mike shook with
rage here. His body vibrated the bed with passion, and his grip on the
doctor's hand never faltered. The Doctor sensed that his patient was coming
to a crest, and held on, wanting... needing to see where it was headed.
"My uncle, doc... he didn't care about me... if he did... he wouldn't have
hurt me the way he did, doc... he wouldn't have hurt me so bad... made me
feel so alone... even when he was on top of me... inside of me... I knew I
was alone. Oh, I tricked myself into thinking that he was loving me... but I
knew... I knew in the back of my mind what was happening... I wasn't a
stupid kid, doc... but I was too stupid to save myself... from what he left
me with... as a reminder of himself... as a reminder of myself... the
desperate me, craving for attention... for love... for affection... he left
me scarred and hurt, doc..." Mike got to the wall, and they both knew it.
Dr. Robbins still wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew that this was
the wall they needed to break through, or leap over- either way, it was THE
obstacle. And Mike seemed to need to get over it. He gave Mike's hand a
squeeze, and Mike looked down, and then back up into the doctor's eyes,
gathering from the strength he found there.
"He left me with something... a snap shot of me... every time I get the...
outbreaks... I'm reminded... I know...... I can't forget... I can't outrun
myself, "Mike sniffed at this point, and looked down at the floor, "because
I always carry that with me. I've had an STD since the age of 8, doctor. I
stay away from people. I don't get close. I can't tell anyone... no one
wants a boyfriend with... what I've got doctor... no one... and I stay to
myself... alone... and its so fucking crushing sometimes I don't know why
I'm still alive at the end of the day." Mike went quiet for a moment, and
the Doctor stared down at the top of his head, eyes wide open displaying the
shock and horror that he felt in his heart. What must Mike have been going
through his entire life... Dear God...
"You know, Doc... sometimes an entire month will go by, and I won't realize
it. I feel as though I'm so detached from life... I just go through my days
numb... numb and like a machine. I... I don't know... what to do anymore...
I feel as though I've been kissed... a living death... I'm a walking
pestilence... and I don't think I wanna feel like this anymore, doctor,"
Mike looked up into the doctor's eyes at this point, "even if that means
that I have to die." The room was silent. The sounds of the beeping and
whooshing of the hospital around them reached their room, but dimmed as
though there were a buffer keeping everything out of that hospital room
turned confessional, where the doctor turned priest sat with the victim
turned confessor, on the bed turned stage for the outcry of a spirit broken,
and seeking either redemption, or destruction....