Date: Fri, 27 Nov 2015 08:06:47 -0500
From: CJ Abello <cjabello1997@gmail.com>
Subject: CJ: Autumn: Chapter 2: The Ties That Bind

CJ: Autumn: Chapter 2: The Ties That Bind

This is a work of fiction set in the real world. Certain living individuals
make appearances in the story; all other characters and the events in which
they all participate are the creation of the author. Any resemblance of the
fictional characters to actual individuals is purely coincidental.



Friday, 30 August 2013 - continued

Dr. Prescott Harding was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to working class
parents. They encouraged their son to excel academically, knowing it was
the way Pres could have a better life than theirs. Short in stature,
Prescott worked tirelessly on developing his body to compensate for his
lack of height. By the time he'd finished high school, he was a magnificent
specimen of solid muscle.

He accepted his parents' guidance, and followed their advice, spending
twice as much time studying as he spent time in the gym. At eighteen, he
graduated at the top of his high school class, and was accepted to the
University of New Mexico. Prescott earned enough scholarships, to pay his
tuition, books, room and board, with some left over for personal
expenses. In college, he discovered the joy of sex.

The combination of looks and brain, made it easy for him to bed any of his
classmates he found attractive. From the captain of the cheerleading squad,
who badly wanted to snag a trophy husband, to the Wolves basketball team
star point guard, who towered over his shorter friend.  The tall athlete
was happy to give Pres complete control over his body, whenever the
opportunity arose. There was never a need to use his personal relations to
compensate for deficiencies in his studies, but by the time he graduated,
he'd also conquered several of his professors, both male and female. He was
one of the most popular students on campus.

Harding subsequently attended, and graduated from, Duke University School
of Medicine. He then chose Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center, in New
York City, for his residency. Preston remained at Columbia for a couple of
years, concentrating his efforts on infectious disease research, and the
treatment of HIV.

In 2004, he accepted the position of Director at the George Washington
University Milken Institute of Public Health, and moved to Washington,
D.C. After settling into his new home, Dr.  Harding became actively
involved in both the addiction recovery, and gay communities; serving as an
advocate for people living with HIV.

During his time in New York City, Prescott had discovered his affinity with
the leather community, becoming a fixture at Rawhide and at NYC Eagle. His
aggressive and domineering demeanor had even the largest of studs willing
to bend to his will. He was a hit at the DC Eagle after his move to the
nation's capital. In 2004, he won the Mr. Eagle Contest and represented his
new hometown in the Mid-Atlantic Leather competition. To this day, pictures
of him wearing boots, chaps, harness and a cover, grace the walls of many
gay bars around the world.

That same year he moved to Washington, Preston met and fell in lust with a
newly minted physician from Alabama, a recent graduate of John Hopkins
Medical School. He befriended Dr.  Matthew Calhoun, and asked him out on a
date. Unfortunately, both preferred to top, and since neither was willing
to become the other one's catcher on a regular basis, it made them sexually
incompatible. They did become good friends, and in 2009 created a
partnership, opening up their own private medical practice.

As Doc's business partner, Prescott met and interacted with all members of
the Elite Eight; he would have happily put a collar around any of their
necks. However, out of respect for Doc, he kept his distance, and didn't
pursue any of them.

When their office manager walked into Prescott's office to let him know
Detective Thomas Kennedy had been shot, and was on his way to the emergency
room, the police officer became his number one concern. With Doc out of
town, he was the cop's primary care physician.

"Levi, I need you to cancel and reschedule all remaining patient
appointments for this afternoon," said Prescott as he started walking
towards their office's private entrance. "Explain the reason why, and send
anyone requiring critical care to the clinic next door. I'm on my way to
the ER."

"You got it, Prescott. Please let me know what's going on as soon as you
can. I'll call Matt and fill him in. He'll probably want to return to DC
when he hears the news."

X X X

Detective Kennedy had his husband, John Paul Smith, listed as his emergency
contact with his employer. Minutes after his shooting, his partner's
frantic call for back-up, and the dispatching of emergency personnel to the
location, JP received a call in his office letting him know what had
happened. The police dispatcher told JP a patrol car would be waiting for
him in front of the Australian Embassy to transport him to George
Washington University Hospital.

Trembling and trying hard to control his tears, JP walked over to his
assistant's desk, told her what had taken place, asked her to let the
Ambassador know he was leaving the office, and was not sure when he would
return. In a daze, he walked outside the embassy building, towards
Massachusetts Avenue. The driveway in front of the main entrance was
bordered by concrete planters, placed as part of the consulate's security
measures.

"Mister Smith? I'm Kumar Warsi, if you'll please get in the car, I'll have
you at the hospital in no time." Officer Warsi was a dark skinned young
man, with features which made JP assume he was Indian or Pakistani.

"Thank you, officer. Do you have any news on my husband? All they told me
on the phone was he'd been shot. They said he was alive, and on the way to
GW Hospital."

"Yes, sir, that's what I was told also. Detective Kennedy was alive, on his
way to the emergency room, and I was instructed to come get you. Hopefully,
he was wearing his vest."

"He was! I saw him put it on this morning while getting dressed."

The drive from the embassy to the hospital would normally have taken around
fifteen minutes; with lights flashing and sirens blaring, the man was
delivered to the Emergency Room entrance in under ten, just as the
ambulance carrying his partner arrived. Those few minutes felt like an
eternity to JP. After the short conversation with Kumar, he called
C‚sar, to let him know what was going on. His friend told him he was on
his way to pick CJ up in Arlington, and would drive to the hospital as soon
as he had the kid with him.

X X X

Brett was on the phone with Rashid, having called the attorney, to let him
know he and Cesar had CJ with them. He thanked their friend for his help
and asked him to convey their gratitude to his boss.

"Thanks for calling, mate. I'm glad the kid's safe, I'll let the big boss
know."

"One more thing, King... Tom Kennedy was shot. He's been taken to GWU
Hospital. We're on our way there now."

"Bloody hell! What do you know about it? How bad is it? How the fuck did
this happen?"

"Hey, hey! All we know is he was shot twice, we're guessing his bullet
proof vest probably saved his life, but he's injured nonetheless. Bud, I
need to call a couple more people about CJ, please let Dragon know about
Tom. Once we get to the hospital, I'll call again as soon as we have more
information."

"Fuck! I have a meeting with a client in a bit, but I'll head over to the
hospital as soon as I'm done with him. Call me."

"We'll see you there, Rash. Brett turned around in his seat to check on CJ,
who was awfully quiet. "How you doing, champ?"

"I'm okay, I guess. I'm still pissed about what happened to me, I want to
hurt those two dirty cops real bad. But I'm scared about Uncle Tommy." The
boy swiped his eyes with the back of his hands, wiping away moisture before
it turned to tears. "I love him and Uncle JP almost as much as I love the
two of you..."

"Just think positive thoughts, CJ." Cesar looked at his son in the
rear-view mirror. "We'll be there in a bit, and we'll find out more about
what happened. JP said Potus was wearing his vest and it probably saved his
life. There's a gym bag behind my seat, I have wet wipes in there.  Grab
some, clean your face, and change shirts. You'll find a couple of clean one
in there also."

"Okay," replied CJ while wiping his eyes with his hands once again. The boy
did as his father suggested: opened the bag, took out wipes, and a black
t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Brett noticed he smiled when he saw the
design on it: the front of a motorcycle and a sign reading 'Motorcycle
Parking Only' in the background.

"Thanks again for calling the police department, Sir." Brett was now on the
phone with his boss.  Colonel Edwards was delighted his young friend was
all right, and considered the call he'd made on his behalf insignificant.

"I'll be calling the Chief back, Captain. I'm not gonna let the matter
drop. Somebody really fucked up, and I'll have their ass." Brett grinned at
the thought of his CO being pissed off; the cops arresting CJ were in
trouble. His boss was known to blow up at those who crossed him, the end
result was never pretty.

"One other thing before I let you go, Sir. Our friend Tom Kennedy has been
shot. We're on our way to the hospital now. I think we'll be staying in
town this weekend, so we can visit with him, and help out in any way we
can." The Colonel had met and interacted with Detective Kennedy several
times, most recently at the wedding, and they were on friendly terms.

"Please call me when you know his status, Captain. I like that man. You
have my cell number, use it."

"Will do, Colonel." Brett closed his eyes for a moment after finishing the
call and let out a loud breath of air. "Shit! What a fucking day."

"Yes, sir, I'm fine. My father asked me to call and thank you and the
Senator for your help."  Brett listened to CJ's conversation and figured
out his son was speaking with someone at Senator Rubio's office. "The Chief
of Police apologized, he promised to deal with the two officers, and to let
us know what would happen. Yes, sir, I'll forward a copy of whatever the
chief sends us."

X X X

Levi Olken handled Dr. Harding's instructions quickly and
efficiently. Patients in the waiting area were informed of the
circumstances, referred to the Urgent Care Clinic if necessary, or had
their appointments rescheduled for another day. The receptionist was asked
to call anyone with appointments later in the day, and make the proper
arrangements. Incoming calls were transferred to the answering service.

"Helen, I'd like you to stay behind with the receptionist for about an
hour, in case any of the afternoon patients don't get our message."

"Sure, Levi, I'd be happy to. I may see you at the hospital when I close up
the office. I already texted Chatri and he's trying to get over here. We've
met Detective Kennedy, we were at his wedding, and both of us think the
world of him. I hope he'll be okay."

"That's fine, Helen, I'm going to scoot over to the hospital and see what I
can see. I hope I get to see you and your hunky fianc‚ later."

The Israeli born man, well known to the hospital staff because of his
association with Doc and Prescott, had no problems getting through the
massed number of staff and police personnel out front. Finding JP looking a
bit lost, he took his arm, and steered him towards the back of the ER. Levi
knocked on a partially open door, a female voice invited them to go in, and
he guided the Aussie into the department supervisor's office. Following
introductions, she invited the men to help themselves to coffee and
promised to be back as soon as possible with any information she could find
about the detective's condition. JP paced inside the small space, waiting
for the woman to return, mumbling prayers asking for his husband's
survival.

X X X

JP's phone chimed, indicating a text message

----PARKING CAR WILL C U IN 5----

It was from Brett. JP told Levi where he was going, walked out of the small
office, and headed towards the Emergency Room entrance. Levi said he would
stay behind, waiting for the ER supervisor to return.

'Uncle Pope, Uncle Pope!" CJ called out, as he saw JP walking towards the
front of the reception area. Hospital personnel were asking the milling
police officers not to block the entrance when JP heard CJ's call. He
turned around as the teen launched himself at the older man, wrapped his
arms around him, and repeatedly said how sorry he was. The emotional
display of affection and concern, brought tears to JP's eyes, the first he
had shed since receiving the initial news of the shooting. His resolve to
remain calm, and not to break down, crumbled.

Being surrounded by CJ, C‚sar, and Brett, JP realized his family was
with him, he wouldn't be facing the ordeal alone. A feeling of relief
enveloped him, and his emotions finally rose to the surface. Still in the
boy's arms, the man reached a hand towards the back of the nearest chair to
support himself, slumping down into it as soon as he had grabbed the
edge. He didn't trust his legs not to buckle. CJ let go of him, and took a
seat by his side.

"How is he? Is Uncle Tommy hurt bad?"

"Hey, CJ, I think Tommy's gonna be alright. I'm waiting on an update on his
condition from the ER supervisor, but the cop who drove me here told me
wearing a Kevlar vest improved the odds of him surviving
significantly. C‚sar, Brett, thanks for coming, mates."

"Where the fuck else would we be, Pope? We're family." It was Brett's
chance to wrap his arms around his friend, and whisper his love for him and
Tommy. Cesarrepeated the process, uttering almost the same words, when it
was his turn.

"Lots of police officers standing around the Emergency Room today."
Cesarobserved. "I guess when one of their own is injured, they all come out
to show their support. And I think most of them are staring at us right
now."

"What do you expect, Emperor? A kid in running shorts and a t-shirt, two
guys in business suits, and a Marine in uniform, all hugging in the middle
of the room. You'd be staring too! And as soon as they realize I'm their
fellow cop's husband, they'll all start coming over here." JP removed his
suit jacket and rolled up his shirt's sleeves, revealing his distinctive
Maori style tattoo. There was a noticeable increase in the whispered
conversations coming from the police officers surrounding them. He heard
someone say the dark haired man with the inked arm was Detective Kennedy's
husband. Another cop said he recognized the Marine, and the tall, olive
skinned man, as the other couple in their fellow officer's joint
wedding. He also mentioned the good looking kid appeared to be the Marine's
son, since he kept calling him Papa.

One by one the officers approached JP, shook his hands while saying some
kind words; they then did the same with C‚sar, Brett, and CJ. The parade
of officers paying their respect continued through the afternoon. They came
and went as time and their duties allowed; Cesar later said he'd lost
count, after the DC Chief of Police and the Mayor stopped by.

X X X

"Howdy, guys."

"Matt! How's my husband? When did ya get here, mate? Please tell me he's
gonna be ok." JP had exploded out of his seat when Doc greeted his friends.

"Yes he is, John Paul. And I've been here for a bit. Came over straight
from the airport, used the staff entrance, and went to talk to my partner,
Prescott. He's been with Potus from the moment he was brought in. That hard
headed Irishman is gonna be just fine."

JP slumped into one of the chairs, sobbing and mumbling "thank you" over
and over. It was CJ who sat next to him, put his arm around the older man,
and held him until the tears stopped.

"Here's what's going on, folks. Tommy was hit by two bullets. One struck
him on the upper left side of his chest and was stopped by his vest. The
area is tender, it'll hurt for a while, and he's gonna have a hell of a
bruise there. The other bullet punched a hole in his right thigh, missed
the femoral artery, and lodged in the muscle. Prescott was in the operating
room as an observer, he said the surgeon had no problems removing the slug,
and closing him up. Tom also hit his head on the pavement when he fell. The
MRI revealed a hairline fracture of the cranium, but no signs of brain
swelling."

"He's in recovery and still sleeping. We're going to keep him sedated
overnight, then put him in the tube again, to snap more pictures. If
there's still no swelling, we'll allow him to wake up on his own, and then
re-evaluate him later in the day. I expect him to be out of the Intensive
Care Unit in a day or two. We'll move him to a regular room then, but we'll
keep him in the hospital until later in the week. The fucker's gonna have a
bitch of a headache. I can take you back to see him for two or three
minutes, but then I'd suggest y'all go home and get some food and rest."

"Let's go!" said CJ, taking charge.

X X X

"Dad, how 'bout you stay here with Uncle JP, and keep him company. Papa,
you and I can go home, so we can clean up and change. On our way back,
we'll get some take out, and bring it to the hospital so we can all eat
together." CJ and his two dads had spent a few minutes each with Detective
Kennedy, who was sleeping with no apparent discomfort. The teenager had
come out of the ICU room smiling, certain his uncle would be okay.

"Excuse me? Who the fuck died and left you in charge?" Brett tried not to
laugh at his son's comment; it wasn't the first time the boy exhibited
initiative and leadership. Yet each instance came as a surprise.

"Move it, Marine, we're wasting time!" said CJ laughing, scampering away to
avoid the head slap being aimed at him. Suddenly, he was a
fifteen-year-old, smart-assed kid again. Both fathers liked it, when their
little boy came out from behind the mature young adult they dealt with most
of the time.

"Fuck! The kid actually makes sense. Guess I better follow his orders. What
do you want for chow, babe?"

"You nuts? I ain't gonna even make a suggestion, I'm sure General CJ has it
all figured out."  Cesar kissed Brett on his cheek, slapped his butt, and
pushed him towards the corridor, where their son waited.

On their way to the parking garage, they ran into Dragon, King, and
Danno. Brett gave them a two minute summary of the situation, asking them
to stick around, until they returned with food.

At home in Georgetown, the two men showered and changed in record
time. Dressed in jeans and t-shirts, Brett called ahead to their favorite
Vietnamese restaurant, while CJ packed his tablet and a few other things
into a backpack.

X X X

"Damn! That was good food. Thanks, guys." Dragon had eaten his share, and
then some. The man still ate as if he was on the football field every
day. He would likely end up gaining weight, like many former athletes did,
unless he changed his eating habits.

"You're welcome, bud. You can thank CJ for the extra food. He suggested I
order enough for eight, in case Doc joined us." Brett was sitting on the
floor, between C‚sar's legs, with his back against the front of the
couch. There weren't enough seats in the small waiting room for all of
them; he and CJ had taken a spot on the floor to eat. The boy was picking
up grains of rice he'd spilled, when Doc walked in.

"You better not be planning on eating that, CJ." Doc smiled as he looked at
the kid, picking up a sprig of fresh basil, from the gray industrial
carpeting. "I don't think the five second rule applies here. The daily
vacuuming is probably not sufficient to leave the floor clean enough to eat
from."

"You think I'm crazy, Uncle Matt? We thought you'd gone home, so we didn't
save you any food, sorry." CJ had gotten up and was going around the room,
collecting paper plates and chopsticks from every one.

"Nope, since my office is just two buildings away, I walked over there to
clean up and change clothes. I stopped and ate in the staff dining room. I
have another patient in the hospital. I came back to check up on him and
Tom before going home for the night. I think you'll like the news on your
husband, JP."

"Really? Is he really going to be okay?" JP's voice held hope and relief.

"Yes he is, my friend. He's stable, all vital signs are normal, and I've
already ordered the second MRI, for first thing in the morning. The surgeon
felt with Potus being in great physical shape, his body will heal faster
than most other people would. Why don't you all go home and get some rest?"

"Can I stay with him tonight?"

"I thought you'd want to do that. Come over and meet the nurse in charge of
the overnight shift, he's about to go on duty. I already spoke with
him. He's fine with you sleeping on the recliner in Tom's room."

They all walked up to the nurse's station in the middle of the unit, and
were introduced to Caleb. The nurse was a good looking, soft spoken man who
reassured JP he had no problem with him staying. He pointed out it was past
visiting hours, and suggested the rest of them head home. They could return
tomorrow morning, any time after eight.

"I'm spending the night, Dads. Hospital food sucks, so bring me breakfast
in the morning?"

"Mate, you heard the nurse, only I'm allowed in there. Go home and get some
rest. You had plenty of excitement for one day yourself."

"Nope, I'm staying until Uncle Tommy himself tells me to go home."

"Come on, CJ, be reasonable. Your day has been hectic enough, you need some
rest." Cesar pleaded with his son. The look of reluctant acceptance on his
dad's face told CJ he'd already won the argument.

"I'm staying, dad. Don't make me act my age and throw a tantrum." CJ
smiled. It was all for fun now.

"Fucking Cuban men, they're all headstrong, pushy, dictator wannabes!"
Brett had a smile on his face too; CJ thought Papa had also given in
already.

"Watch it, Jarhead. OK, you can stay, CJ. But you better get over this
Fidel Castro complex real soon, or I may have to spank you!"

"Promise, Daddy?"

"Oh no, I'm out of here. I've seen this comedy routine before, when I
stayed with them. JP, Caleb, call me if anything comes up. I'll be here
after making rounds tomorrow morning. Tom should be back from his MRI by
then."

"Are you really his nephew, CJ?" the nurse was amused by the family
interaction playing out in front of him.

"Well, I think of him as my uncle, even though we're not blood relatives. I
think the ties that bind us are just as strong, though. I was the best man
at his wedding if that helps."

"I think that counts. I just can't let you in the room with him at the same
time as Mr. Smith is in there, even though I'll recognize you as
next-of-kin if something comes up. You'll have to hang out in the waiting
area."

"Works for me," said CJ shrugging his shoulders. As long as he was nearby,
in case something happened, he didn't care where exactly he was. Plus there
was only one comfortable recliner in the room anyway.

"I'll keep an eye on your son, sir. I may ask you for advice on how to deal
with teenagers later on, my wife just gave birth to a boy."

"Ship him off to boarding school as soon as he starts talking! Behave,
bud. You have your phone?"

"Yeah. I'll hang out in the waiting room. I brought my tablet, so I can
read or surf until I crash."

Before JP went into Tommy's room, a large African-American man wearing a
security officer's uniform, walked up to the nurses' station, and
introduced himself as Dallas.

"Hey, Caleb, I'm assuming these two gentlemen are relatives of the police
officer who was shot today?"

"Yes, sir, this is his husband, John Paul, and his nephew, CJ. They've both
been cleared, and have permission to spend the night on the floor."

"Good to meet you, sir. You too, CJ," said the guard. "I promised the
officers milling around downstairs, that I'd spend extra time on this
floor. There'll be a cruiser, with two officers in it, parked outside all
night long. They don't want journalists or other crazies trying to get up
here.  Call me if you need me."

"Thank you, Dallas. I appreciate everybody's efforts to keep my husband
safe. And, Caleb, CJ's our nephew. No qualifiers needed. I'll probably
crash out as soon as I go sit by Tommy. If anything comes up that CJ can
handle, and he's still awake, I'm okay with him dealing with it."

"Go rest, uncle JP. Don't worry about it, I'll be up for a while
reading. If any reporters show up, I'll deal with them."

X X X

It was almost midnight; CJ was engrossed in reading The Luxorian Fugitive,
a gripping science fiction story involving a space ship full of gay
men. The teen, sitting in the small waiting area by himself, noticed
movement outside the large glass window, facing the center of the intensive
care unit. A man dressed as a priest, accompanied by an older couple,
approached the nurses' station and spoke with Caleb. The boy saw the nurse
shake his head, and point towards the room CJ was sitting in. He put his
tablet down, on top of the backpack resting on the chair next to him, and
walked out of the room. He thought he might as well find out why he was
part of whatever conversation was being carried on.

"Hey, buddy, this couple claim to be Detective Kennedy's parents. Do you
recognize them?  They want to know what room he's in so their priest can
administer last rites. CJ's the detective's nephew, Father Enger."

----------

Copyright 2015 CJ Abello
Edited by: Mann Ramblings

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