Date: Tue, 6 Nov 2012 04:32:38 -0500 (EST)
From: Aragon76@aol.com
Subject: Keeping It In The Family - Chapter Eight

If your not 18 you shouldn't be reading this, come back when you are old
enough. The story belongs to the author and all rights to it.

I hope that you are enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing
it. I want to thank all of you that wrote to me since this story began, I
have  made a few friends from around the globe. I want to thank my editor,
Ton,(he  lives in Holland) I want to thank him for his time and effort that he
puts into  the story for me. I think by  the time he goes through it and then
I go  through it again, hopefully you're not left with too many mistakes.
Enjoy more  chapters are in the works, I just finished writing Chapter 10, so
you know that  there are at least that many chapters plus a few more I
think. Thanks  again, for those who wish to contact me you can at
Aragon76@aol.com

Feel free to send comments both good and bad, I answer all emails within a
day usually. I've made some good friends along the way....you guys know who
you are...so here's another chapter of Mike and Trent and the life they
live.

Michael W. McKinney


Chapter  8

Michael  fell to the ground screaming and crying. His world was falling to
pieces. He  passed out.

When  he came to, he was in the back of an ambulance, being revived by a
paramedic. As  they waved the ammonia under his nose several times, Michael
coughed and blinked  his eyes repeatedly trying to avoid the offensive.

Finally he attempted to sit up, but the  paramedic wouldn't allow him to. He was
told to lie down and try to remain as  calm as possible, assuring Michael
that they would be at the hospital within a  few minutes.

"Where's  Trent? Where's the guy that was on the other moped? They have to
be taking him  to the same hospital. Where is he? Please tell me, is he
still alive? Please  tell me. I saw him. He looked like he was... Michael couldn'
t bring himself to say  the words. It was too much for him to bear.

There  was no way he could be. Not Trent, it just couldn't be. But he had
seen him and  the thought made him lie back down sobbing. The ambulance
backed up to the  entrance of the emergency room. Michael was immediately taken
into a bay and  examined. He caught a brief glimpse of Trent and heard a
flurry of activity as  they attempted to revive him. Michael wanted to be near
him, to know what was  going on, but this was as close as he was going to
get. He was whisked off to an  x-ray department and was there for almost  an
hour and a half before returning to the emergency room. By then  Michael had
lost track of Trent.

His checkup was done and he was fine. Nothing was broken, which Michael
already knew, but since they found him unconscious and on the ground they
wanted  to make sure. They released him from the emergency room. It wasn't until
that  time that he found out that Trent was still alive but in bad shape.

He attempted  several times to find out what was going on, telling them that
he was his  brother but no one was saying anything. Just that Trent was in
rough shape and  that he was still being examined, trying to determine the
extent of his  injuries. They were able to tell Michael that Trent would
survive, but that his  injuries were extensive. He was told that both legs were
severely broken in  multiple places; his left arm was also broken, mostly at
the elbow which had  been shattered. The rest wasn't clear. All he knew at
that point was that he had  to call Mom and Dad and let them know what was
going on.. Now he was in a panic  and needed them both. He didn't know what to
do, or what to say. This was a  phone call Michael didn't want to make.

Mustering his courage and sense of  responsibility Michael headed for the pay
phones on the  wall.

"Operator,  I need to make a person-to-person call to Claymore Sanders at
617-555-0000. Yes  mam. I'm Michael Evans. Thank you." He heard the phone
clicking a few times, and  then he heard Clay's voice on the other end and the
operator asking him if he  would accept charges for a collect call from a
Michael Evans. Clay accepted the  charges and was connected.

"Hey  pal, how's the weather in sunny Jamaica? Getting some sun and sand
time in?"  Clay had no idea what was coming and Michael hesitated in telling
him the news.  He knew this was going to break his heart. Michael was sure
that Trent was  Clay's favorite child. Even though he told everyone he had no
favorites, Michael  didn't believe him in any shape or form.

"Dad,  This isn't a fun call I afraid I have some bad news."

"What's the matter?" Michael could almost see the color drain from his
Clay's face, waiting to hear what Michael had to tell him.

"Trent was in an... accident today. He was hit by a taxi... while riding a
moped. Both of his legs are... broken in several... places and his... arm is
broken, I  should say his elbow is shattered. He hasn't woken up since the
accident. They  aren't telling me much. I don't think they believe that I'm his
brother when I  tell them I am. You know that game. You should call them and
get him out of  here, Dad. He needs to be in Boston. Can you do that? We have
to get him home  somehow..." Michael broke down sobbing, trying to compose
himself.

"Calm down Michael, calm down. Take a deep breath. I'll get on it right
away, you can count on it. I'll call you back on your cell phone, is that
working right now or not?"

"No, sorry, I had to use a hospital phone. That's why I called you person
to person, collect. My cell phone wouldn't reach you. When do you think you
can  get down here at the latest?"

"Depends. Maybe seven to eight hours maybe a little less. I'll call the
hospital and try to find you. It will be a few hours before I attempt to call
 you back, like when we are in the air. Right now I'm going to tell your
mother  what's going on and then get a medical plane and a crew to bring Trent
home.  Hang in there, buddy. He's a fighter and he'll make it. So that's a
good thing,  right?"

"Yea, you're right, it is." Michael felt the tears falling down his
cheeks unsure just how Trent would survive after what he had looked like on the
ground all twisted.

"Hang in there and stay put. I'll call the hospital as soon as I can and
as soon as I have a plane and a medical crew to man it. I'll call City
Hospital  to see what I can scrape together for a team. They usually have a
medical staff  that's on call for out of state emergencies, I think this
qualifies as out of  state. If not I'll pay for it out of my own pocket. But I will
get this done  Michael don't worry that I won't."

"All right, Dad. I'm in the ER and I'll stay here until I hear from you.

Thanks for helping me stay calm and reassuring me. You always know when and
how."

"Remember, Michael, that's what Dads are for. Someday you'll have your
own kids and you'll see. Just remember what I'm telling you now,  okay?"

"Okay, thanks." Michael was blown away from Clays comment. Did he really
just say that about having kids and did he really mean it? Was he implying
that  he thought he and Trent would have children in the future? Or was he
merely  hoping that they would. Either way, he loved the prospect of the
thought. Trent  just had to survive and be in one piece for that to  happen.

Michael didn't know how long it was actually going to take Sarah and Clay
to gather a medical staff who would be willing to fly to Jamaica and take
care  of Trent, considering the condition he was in. The time dragged for him,
each  minute seemed like an hour and he was alone. Whether he was his
brother or not,  Michael was denied access to Trent in the back. Frustrating more
and more each  time he tried to ask questions.

Michael was relieved when he saw a familiar face when Ricky showed up. He
came up to Michael and gave him a heartfelt hug and immediately the two sat
down.

"No one has talked to me, Ricky. They have totally ignored me to this
point, and I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing right now. I
talked to Trent's father and he and his mother are hiring a private plane and a
 medical team to take Trent back to Boston to get him medical treatment,
because  I want him back in Boston to get help. Wait, how did you know that I
was here  and that Trent got hurt in the first place?"

"My cousin owns the moped place you rented from and I stopped by and when
I saw the wrecked moped come back in, I stopped and asked what happened.

When he  told me that one got hurt I knew it was one of you. I came right to
the hospital  to see which one it was. I'm sorry it was either one of you. So
many people get  hurt on those damn things. But they are fun to ride. I've
done it several times.  I just can't believe he got hit by a damn taxi driver
of all things, mon. Some  of them are pretty bad and drive too fast and
shouldn't have their driver's  license to begin with. But what you gonna do,
mon?" Ricky shook his head and  dropped it in mocked disbelief, commiserating
with  Michael.

"Oh, Ricky, the guy came out of nowhere, going way too fast to begin with
and just hit Trent broadside. His legs were just all wrong when I looked at
him  lying on the ground."

Michael began to sob. Ricky wasn't sure what to do, so he just took
Michael in his arms and held him while he cried and cried. Ricky tried to
reassure him that everything was going to be all right and that Trent was going  to
get better.

"Oh, Ricky, you didn't see him. I don't know if he's even going to walk
again. His legs were so mangled. I don't know if he'll be able to build
houses  like he wants to. He wants to build houses, Ricky. How is he going to
do that  with his legs all mangled, Ricky, tell me that. How is he going to
do that? I'm  going to make sure that I sue that guy. He won't have anything
left when I'm  done. He'll wish he was dead by the time I'm with him. I
swear to god I'll make  his life a living hell."

"Michael you can deal with this later. Now is not the time; your emotions
are running high right now and not your brain. Just give yourself time
before  you make any real decisions. For the time being just concentrate on Trent
and  getting better. You have plenty of time to decide on what you're going
to do  with the guy that hit Trent, and whether or not you're going to sue
him. Right  now put Trent at the top of your list. That's what you have to
worry about and  only that."

"You're right, Ricky. I just need to think about him right now. I just
wish they would come out and tell me something, or at least let me go back
there  and let me see him so I know how he is doing. I want to see him with my
own  eyes. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes I do, Michael. If it was my wife I would be pulling my hair out,
trying to get in back there, but that's the way they do things here, like it or
not. You have to just wait until they come and get you, or until they tell
you  something."

"Well it fucking sucks if you ask me." Ricky chuckled slightly not
wanting to upset Michael any more than he was.

"I've never heard it said quite like that, but I have to agree with you,
Mon."

The two men stayed silent for a while and time slowly ticked away.  Michael
avoided looking at the clock as much as he possibly could. However, as
much as he tried, it still seemed that every five minutes he was still looking
at the damn thing. Seconds seemed liked hours and hours seemed like  days.

Indeed, the hours did pass and as Michael and Ricky paced the floor,
Michael turned and another familiar face appeared before him: Clay and Sarah
came around the corner. Clay and Michael rushed at each other and Michael
collapsed in Clay's arms, sobbing. Sarah stood by Michael's side, rubbing his
back, trying to reassure him telling him that Trent would be okay, unsure
herself of his outcome.

Michael explained that he hadn't heard anything up to this point and Clay
became furious that he hadn't. He figured that Michael should have been told
 something by now: whether Trent was in surgery, how he was he progressing,
if he  was out, what his status was, something, anything. Clay was going to
find out,  and now.

"Dad, before you go anywhere I'd like you both to meet Ricky. He's been
our driver since we got off the plane on Sunday. Ricky, this is Sarah and
Clay  Sanders. You could call them my parents." Ricky gave Michael a quizzical
look.  "They aren't really my parents, but they've treated me more like a
son than my  own parents ever did. They've shown more love and support in two
years than mine  did in seventeen." They both stood a little taller as
Michael finished his  introduction.

"I wish we were meeting under happier circumstances, Mr. and Mrs.  Sanders"


"Please, Clay and Sarah, Ricky"

"And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and raise hell and make
arrangements to get my son on a plane and back to Boston. I have a medical crew
waiting on a plane. Michael, I suggest you and Sarah have Ricky take you to the
hotel and collect your things and Trent's, and meet us at the airport. Your
mother knows where the plane is, they're waiting for us to get back. There'
s a  medically equipped 727 plane getting gassed up and rechecked and
filing a flight  plan as we get Trent ready to travel. Now you three go and get
everything  together."

"Dad, I haven't seen Trent since he got here. Dad, I've got to see him"

Clay took Michael in his arms and spoke quietly to him.

"Michael, I know it's hard right now, but I need you to do this, and go
and get your things and Trent's. You'll see him on the plane, I promise you
that. But time is important and we have to keep moving, okay? So please, go
with  your mother and do this." Clay stretched out his hand and took hold
of Michael's  chin, and had him look him in the eye. Michael had tears, but
he shook his head  yes. Sarah reached her hand out and Michael took it.

"Come on, Ricky, you need to take us to the hotel to get everything and
then get us to the airport. Guess we won't be going to Montego Bay on Saturday
 after all."

"You'll come back next year, and I'll be your taxi driver again. I'll
still be driving taxi  you can count  on it. I've been driving for five years
now. I'll give you my number and a few  days before you come, you call me
and I'll be at the airport to meet you and  Trent, how's that sound?"

"That sounds good, Ricky."

"Then let's get moving, mon."

The three of them left the hospital and made their way to the Rock  Cliff's
Hotel. Sarah loved the hotel. As far as she was concerned it was the
perfect spot for young lovers to spend their time in. Perhaps not just for young
lovers. She had thoughts of her and Clay coming here once the kids were
gone  from the nest and they could spend time on their own. They walked into
the room  and clothes were scattered everywhere.

"I can tell my boys are used to being taken care of all the time." Ricky
laughed. He wasn't aware of the wealth that Trent and Michael were
accustomed  to. "What did you do? Pay the staff here to stay out of this room,
Michael  Wayne?" Michael got a sheepish look on his face before speaking to his
mother  and Ricky had to laugh some more seeing Michael behave like a child,
caught with  his hand in the cookie jar.

"Well, not to stay out, but not to come in until later on in the
afternoon, just in case we slept in and didn't get up until the late in the day,
just in case."

Michael reached over and picked up the small paper Rick's Café had given
Trent for jumping off the highest diving spot and he sat on the bed and broke
 down. Sarah came over and took the paper and read it.

"You let him do this?"

"No, he just did it, you know how he is. Once he gets an idea in his head
about doing something, he gets a one track mind."

"Well, I can't argue over that point Michael." Sarah grinned and a tear
fell down her cheek. Ricky could see a bond between the two, even though they
 weren't mother and son by birth.

"Come on you two, the ambulance will get to Montego Bay faster than we,  so
we need to get moving."

"He's right, Michael, we need to keep moving and get this done." As they
were packing up Sarah took the time to look out their French doors and
admire  the view.

"Michael, I want to tell you this before you see him. He looks worse than
he is, mostly because they have prepared him for movement on the plane as I
have  asked and they haven't performed surgery at this point except some
minor stuff  to stitch him up to stop the bleeding here and there. That's about
it for now.  They didn't want to send him off with him bleeding and have
him die on the way.  They didn't like doing this to begin with. He's not in
the best shape to be  traveling, Michael. So be prepared and understand that."



--------------------
Michael took a deep breath and turned the corner to see a plane that had
been turned into a flying medical hospital. He was amazed by it. He wondered
how  many people actually used something like this and under what
circumstances it  was used for. Was it just used for people that had money? As he
looked further  down he could see a bed and he could see Trent's feet. At least
they were in the  right place, compared to where they were the last time he
had seem them. He  couldn't walk any faster. His legs just wouldn't move.

They felt like they had  cement in them. More and more of Trent's body was
revealed. The closer he got,  the sicker he felt in his stomach and then he
got the full picture. Michael's  knee's buckled and the room swirled and Clay
caught him as he passed out. He  came to a few minutes later as the nurse
waved some smelling salts under his  nose.

"You're okay, Michael. Just sit here for a few minutes. I've put you next
to Trent so you don't have to get up, okay?" Michael nodded his head and
looked  up to see his lover, bandaged, bloodied and broken. Michael reached
out to touch  Trent's hand but feared hurting him in some way. The nurse
spoke to reassure  him.

"It's all right, Michael. You won't hurt him. We have him heavily sedated
for the trip back to Boston. We need him ready for surgery as soon as we
get him  there. He's going to need a lot of surgeries. Both of his legs are
badly broken  with multiple fractures, his left elbow is shattered, there are
three or four  broken ribs. He's lucky his spine is intact, not to say that
he's not going to  need help with a back brace for a while, but at least his
back isn't broken. His  right hand will need some work with pins being
inserted into the fingers until  the bones mend. There are three fingers that
are fractured in approximately  seventeen places between the three. As far as
we can tell there is no internal  bleeding, so that's a good thing. It's
the only reason that the doctor's in  Jamaica would release him to us. It's
why they took so long in talking to you.  They wanted to make sure everything
was okay before they released him for travel  in a plane. We have to pay
attention to air pressure especially. That's the best  I can tell you for now.

I wish I had better news for you right now, but I don't.  I don't want to
lie to you either, that's not my style, Michael."

"I appreciate that." Clay spoke up. Michael was trying to take in
everything that she had said and thinking how this was going to affect Trent's
school work. Michael knew that he was going to have to go back to school and
keep on plugging away. Come the summer he'd be able to help Trent and give
him  three months of his full attention and a week on spring break. His heart
was  breaking, knowing that this was going to put Trent at least a year
behind him..  He began to wonder if he should take a year off to help Trent get
back on his  feet. Maybe it was something they would have to discuss when he
was awake and  out of a semi-conscious state and could think more clearly.

Perhaps he would  discuss it with Clay and Sarah before he talked to Trent
about it. That would  probably be a better idea.

However, he had a feeling that Clay would never let him take a year off
from school, not when he could hire professional people to help Trent more
than  Michael could. What was he thinking? He might as well forget that idea,
and they  would never go for that, not for a second. Michael had to resign
himself to the  idea that he was going to have to go to school and take care
of Trent in between  studying and vacations. It would definitely be a long
time before they would go  horseback riding again.

They plane began to move onto the tarmac and Michael grabbed Trent's bed
to make sure it wasn't going to move on take-off. He looked at the feet of
his  chair to see how he was secured and saw that he was on rubber matting and
his  chair had rubber on the bottom of it. The nurse came over to Michael
and asked  him to move to another chair that was bolted to the floor telling
him that he  could come back once they had reached cruising altitude.

Michael felt out of  place without Trent sitting next to him on the way back to
Boston. Clay sat next  to him and Sarah next to Clay. It just felt all wrong
to him. For the first time  he didn't know what to say to Clay.

"It's going to be okay, Michael. Trent's a fighter, he always has been.

You should know that by now. I think in your heart you already  do."

Did he? He had never seen Trent in this kind of situation and he wasn't
sure how he was going to respond. How would he deal with Michael being ahead
of  him in school? He was so competitive. This time and this situation would
put him  behind the eight ball and there was nothing he could do about it.

Before this  they were on equal ground, now what?
"How is he going to deal with us not being equal anymore, Dad? We've been
partners up to this point. We've been together with everything we've done.

We've  graduated together, we're going to college together at the same
time, and we  wanted to graduate at the same time. There is so much that we
have that is now  in question because of this. He's going to be crushed by this
set back, Dad, you  have no idea yet."

"Is there something I need to know that you two haven't told us?" Michael
wondered if he should say anything to them or wait until he had the chance
to  talk to Trent when he was awake. He decided he needed to wait; so many
things  were in the air right now. Clay looked at Michael and wondered what
was going on  inside of his head at this moment.

"No sir, not right now. Anyway, not until I talk to Trent, sir." He had
said too much and he knew it. Just by that little sentence he knew that Clay
was  aware of more than he was letting on, and Michael needed to shut up. He
was  hoping that they would reach cruising altitude soon so that he could
sit next to  Trent and talk to him even though Trent wouldn't be able to
respond. For now  Michael got lost in his thoughts and how things were going in
his life.

He wondered how his real father was doing. Not that he really cared. He
thought about it for a few minutes and felt in his heart that he no longer
loved  his father. He loved Clay more like a father and Sarah more like a
mother. He  didn't even realize when the separation had taken place, that he had
replaced  Trent's parents as his own parents. He wondered what would happen
when they  finally got to a trial if his father was the one that pulled the
trigger that  had killed his mother. Or was it Kevin? How would he feel if
it was his father  and how would he feel if it was Kevin? How would he feel
about his father then?  He wondered if it would change anything at all. Since
he had already written his  father off he didn't think it would make a
difference but perhaps it would. It  would be just the straw that broke the camel
's back. And where did Mandy fit  into all of this? He hadn't really
talked to her like he used to when they were  in school together all the time. He
appreciated that they were getting older and  they each had their own lives
to live, but it had been weeks since they had  talked to one another and
that wasn't like them at all. Maybe if he talked to  her she could shed some
light on the whole issue at hand. She was always good at  giving him advice
when he was stuck at something. Perhaps she could help him  this time to.

He thought about Jack Barrolls and how the investigation might be going  at
this point and what they might have for facts and hard evidence, as Jack
liked to put it. The other ones from the Watertown Police Department were
more  focused on their theories then on hard evidence or as they called it
circumstantial evidence. At least that's what Jack called it. If that was the
case, then his father was guilty. When it came to hard evidence no one was
guilty at the time he had left for Jamaica. So unless something had happened
 while he was gone, the case would still be the same and no one knew
anything.  But of course he wasn't privy to all the information from the
prosecuting  attorney either.

That was something else he was going to have to talk to Mandy about when
he would have the chance to when he got back, but before he started school
and  it's routine again. He knew once he got back into the routine he would be
too  busy until spring break, and then he'd be busy with Trent and taking
care of  him. He knew that Trent would be in no shape to be running around
and doing  things on his own yet, no matter how much he might want to. Michael
knew he just  wouldn't be ready. God knows how many surgeries he would
need. That was another  thing they were going to have to talk about in his
recovery: the number of  surgeries he would be facing. Michael wasn't sure
himself but he knew it would  be several just on his legs alone.

The flight seemed to take forever. However, it was the same as it always
was: a little over three hours. An ambulance was waiting at Logan Airport to
transport Trent to City Hospital and to an operating room and surgeons who
were  waiting as were nurses and other medical staff needed to work on his
broken  body. Trent's first surgery lasted almost nine hours. To Michael it
seemed like  ninety. Several times he thought he was going to snap. He yelled
at Peter and at  Stephen, who hugged him until Michael calmed down and
cried. Clay had cried more  than once, feeling helpless as a parent. He had felt
that way more than once  and, no matter what, still hated it. The scene
played over and over in Michael's  head and the result was the same with Trent
landing and his legs being by his  head and Michael screaming and passing
out.

It finally came to an end and Trent was in recovery with Michael by his
side, waiting for him to come out of his induced coma. Michael drifted in and
out of sleep, holding Trent's hand. The rest of the family held vigil in
the  waiting room. Michael wouldn't leave his side, and no one could persuade
him  otherwise. Even Yvonne couldn't get him to move.  Michael decided that
he'd better start  talking to Trent, otherwise he would never wake up.

"You know, if you sleep long enough you'll be up for days, you big lug."

He just watched him and looked at his eyes as they fluttered behind his
eyelids,  wondering what was going on behind them.

"If you think getting hit by a taxi is going to get you sympathy, well,
you know where you can find sympathy, right between shit and syphilis in the
dictionary, pal. I'm not kidding, you know. I'm mad at you for getting hit
by  that taxi. You should have known it was coming and stopped before it hit
you. I  know you; you'll try and tell me that you couldn't have known.

Well, don't give  that excuse, mister. It's lame number one."

Clay and Sarah came in giving Michael something to eat.

"Michael, you'll have to eat something now. You haven't eaten anything in
hours. And if you don't eat soon, I'll have Clay make you  eat."

"Don't drag me into this, I won't win."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Claymore Jackson Sanders."

"Sorry love, I'm staying out of this one."

"Michael Wayne Evans, you are going to eat and that's the end of this
conversation." Sarah became the mother bear and Michael became the cub that was
 going to listen.

"Yes, mother, whatever you say. But I'm doing it under protest, just so
you know."

"That's fine. Eat it under any circumstance you want to, as long as you
eat it. I don't care." Michael begrudgingly began to eat the sandwich that
Sarah  had brought him. The time slowly passed and Trent's brothers and
sisters came  and went, checking in on him to make sure that he was okay and
holding his own.  He was still sleeping by the time the nurses were beginning to
suspect that  Trent would be waking up soon. Michael moved to his side of
the bed again and  took hold of his hand.

"Okay, time to wake up, buddy. You've been sleeping way to long. I'm
tired of waiting for you to wake up, you know. So get your little scrawny ass up
 and say something, Stretch."

"Funny, you never called it scrawny when we're in bed  together."

"Trent Nicholas Sanders"

"Oh...Sorry Mom, didn't see you in here."

Michael sat up in the chair, turning red, and laughed until tears formed.

Clay tried not to laugh, but listening to Michael he couldn't help  himself.

"The three of you, I'm going to get something to drink. Honestly you
should be ashamed." Clay got up and left the room with Sarah, snickering as he
left. The boys both laughed at him as they watched him  leave.

"I won't ask how you feel, Trent. You must feel like shit about now. Is
it okay if I kiss you?"

"Actually, I don't feel anything at the moment, and yea, you can kiss me
with those hot lips."

"Never mind the hot lips comments, you aren't going to be doing anything
for a while pal. I'm really sorry to say. I'm going to be using my right
hand  for the near future, and I'll be using my other hand to help you out. My
poor  baby is lucky he didn't get that broken to."

Michael leaned over and kissed Trent. With his right arm Trent reached up
and held Michael by the neck keeping him in place. It didn't last long as
Trent  was still weak from the drugs they had given him during the surgery. He
laid his  head down, closed his eyes as sleep overtook him again. Michael
lovingly watched  him drift off, and then sitting back down until his friend
would wake up again.  Trent slept another 15 minutes before he woke again.

"Wow, you're a hot date!" Michael was sitting next to the bed, holding
Trent's hand still.

"What does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?" The anesthesia
had left Trent's throat and mouth feeling as if the Sahara Desert had moved
in  without invitation.

"You, Mr. Happy, may have a few ice chips, no water yet they  said."

"I'll take whatever is wet in my mouth at this point. And don't you dare
get perverted, asshole. Mikey, did they say how long I have to be in these
casts? Don't you dare lie to me!"

"The doctor hasn't been in yet since you've been out of surgery. We have
to wait and see what he says."

"What is going to happen to school? This is going to set me back and you
and I won't end up graduating at the same time, like we  planned."

"Let's just wait and see what the doctor says. Maybe if you only miss
this semester, you can make it up by taking a few courses every summer. That
way, by the time we graduate, it will be at the same time like we planned.

And I  can help you during the summer time to make sure you get the grades you
need,  okay?"

"You sound more convinced about this than I am,  Michael."

"I'm sure you'll be out of these casts by the end of the school year and
if I go with you and you take one or two courses over the summer you'll have
 enough credits so that we'll still be able to graduate at the same time,
just  like we originally planned in the first place."

The doctor that performed the surgery came into the room and Trent  groaned
fearing the worst. Michael squeezed Trent's good hand and looked him in
the eyes, trying to convey a message for him not to worry.

"The nurses called and told me you were awake, Mr. Sanders. I'm glad to
see you up and talking. I'd like to tell you what we found during the surgery
 and what took so long. Both legs are being held together with pins and
screws,  some of which will be removed at a later date and some will be with
you for the  rest of your life. Your left leg sustained the worst damage with
four breaks.  They missed one in Jamaica. They were correct about the right
leg and that has  pins and screws to hold it together also. They will be in
for a while. The casts  will be on for a minimum of ten weeks, perhaps
longer. But we will move to  inflatable casts after ten weeks, if we can. Your
arm won't bend for a while.  There are several pins and screws holding it
together. There is no telling when  the cast is going to come off of your arm
and I'm sorry to tell you that. Since  you're awake now we are going to move
you to a room as soon as we can find  one."

"I'll be going to the top floor, Dr. Jacobs. My father sits on the Board
of Directors of the hospital. I don't mean to sound all high and mighty or
snobby, I really don't. It's just the way it is. I'm just trying to save
time  and paper work, that's all."

"And you just saved me a lot of paperwork and aggravation, Trent, and I
appreciate it, believe me. I thank you for being up front about you going to
the  top floor. I'll call the crew upstairs and have someone come and get
you, and  have everything be taken care of for you like it should, ok?"

Trent laughed a little at the way the doctor had responded to the whole
thing about Trent going to the top floor.  About half an hour went by and
Steve stuck his head in the door.

"I thought I recognized that name, but I wasn't sure if it was really you
or not. I couldn't believe it was you. Where's the  boyfriend?"

"He ran out to get something to eat. You know how he has the bottomless
pit."

"I heard that Trent Nicholas Sanders! I am not the one that has the
bottomless pit, someone else I know does, though. And someone else I know is
going to be in trouble, broken body or not!"

Michael laughed at himself and greeted Steve and Walter, having missed
them as much as they missed seeing the two boys. They hugged Michael and asked
how he was doing and he filled them in on school and how busy they had been
on  their first year of school.

Steve and Walter detached the tubes and IV's that Trent was attached to
and began the short journey to the upstairs where Trent was going to be
staying  for the next undetermined amount of time. Steve and Walter had seen guys
that  had stayed for months in this condition but they weren't going to say
anything  to Trent about that right now. There was no point in upsetting
him. This young  boy had just come awake from a severe surgery and was in good
spirits,  optimistic about his future and how long it was going to take to
actually get  things accomplished in his recovery.


--------------------
The daily grind began for Trent and within a week he got tired of it and
was ready to go home. Unfortunately for him, the doctors weren't ready to let
 him go. That made the reality settle in and Trent hated it. Michael was
the  person he was taking it out on. Michael understood his angst and was
trying to  be patient with him, but some days were harder than others. School
was going to  start soon for Michael and he had to be ready. He didn't know
how Trent was  going to handle him going back. He decided that bringing up the
subject was the  best thing to do tonight. There was no point in putting it
off any  longer.

"Trent, I have to get ready to go back to school. I won't be able to come
up here as much as I have been. You know that don't you?"

Trent didn't answer Michael right away. He just laid there and looked out
the window, saying nothing. Michael felt like crying. He felt like punching
something. He wasn't sure what he felt like. Finally he decided to take a
walk  for a few minutes and maybe talk to Steve or Walter for a while. Maybe
Steve  could help shed some light on things. So he went over to the desk
where Steve  was sitting.

"Hi, Steve."

"What's the matter, kiddo, you're looking down."

"I just don't know what to do with him. I'm going to start school soon
and he's not happy about it. In fact, he seems almost pissed about it and I
understand why. But what I don't understand is why he's acting this way. He
knew  that I would have to go back to school."

"Michael, he just resents the fact that he's stuck here right now and the
fact that you are going back to school is a reminder of that. And he hates
it.  You have to be extra patient right now and just let him work it out. He
needs  time, Michael, he just needs time."

"I hope I have the patience he needs to get through  this."

"Knowing the two of you, I don't believe you don't have the patience!"

Steve tapped Michael lightly on the shoulder teasing him in the process.

"Oh, come on, you know him well enough to know how long his moods last,
Michael. If you don't I'd be shocked." He blushed at Steve's innuendo and
smiled  at the same time. Michael knew that Steve was one hundred percent
right.

Michael kept walking to clear his head and just give himself time to
think. It was what he needed: time to think about Trent and what he was going
through. He did feel bad. He just wasn't sure what to do for him, or how to
reach out to him. Perhaps he should talk to Sarah. She would know what to do
with him and how to get him out of the rut he was in. He got on his cell
phone  and called Sarah. Of course it would be something easy: just change the
subject  and get his mind off of what is bothering him, redirect his
attention she will  say. What was bothering him was being in the hospital and not
being in school,  yea, right, simple? How in the hell was he going to do
that? It would have to be  something outrageous. Something he wouldn't expect
and something he could pull  off in the hospital. Of course this would be
easy for him. Yea, right, he  thought. He was going to need help, maybe enlist
the help of Steve and Walter  somehow, something to get Trent out of these
bad feelings.

"Hey, guys, I need your help to get Trent out of this rut he's in.

Something outrageous, but something we can get away with in the hospital. What  do
you have for ideas? Anything at all would be helpful."

"Give us an hour, Mike, and we'll try working something out for you. But
it has to be things you can do in the hospital."

"Okay, I'm going to grab something to eat and just waste some time and
let him be for now. He's in no mood for me right now anyway. So I might as
well  eat."

"You know you can have the chef make you something up here and eat with
us. You don't have to go down to the cafeteria."

"You know, that sounds good. They make some awesome French  Toast."

"Why am I not surprised to hear you say that? Is that what you  want?"

"Yes please, with..."

"I know with bacon, crisp, lots of butter and milk, really cold. I
remember, Michael." Michael laughed and guessed his trademark breakfast had  become
his brand now, since people could remember it so well. He would have to
tell Trent that Steve remembered his breakfast even after all this time, even
the extra butter. Well, maybe he would leave the butter part out. Trent
would  yell at him about that part. Trent always told him that butter was just
a heart  attack waiting to happen later on in life, especially the way he
ate it almost  every day.

His meal was delivered as was Steve's and Walter's. They were having the
same as Michael, who laughed seeing his favorite breakfast having caught on
the  two men. As they ate they all discussed what they might be able to do
for Trent  to get him out of his rut. They finally came up with an idea and
Michael loved  it and agreed to it. Now the thing was to pull it off without
tipping off Trent.  He hoped he could do this one without Trent catching on.

It had happened often  when Michael had tried to surprise him and somehow
Trent would catch him at it  before he could pull it off.

Three days later he was sitting in Trent's room. Mr. Glooms room as he  was
thinking of it lately. Clay and Sarah were there and he was hoping they
would leave soon, as his surprise would be arriving shortly and he didn't want
 them here for that. He would die of embarrassment if they were. In about
two  minutes he would take Clay outside and explain the situation and have
Clay take  Sarah for a twenty minute walk if he had to. Time was up.

"Dad, come with me for a minute, I need to talk to you if you don't  mind."

 Clay got up and left the room with Michael, acknowledging his  approval.

"Dad, I've planned a little surprise for Trent and I don't think Mom
would like to see it. It's a male stripper and he'll he here in a few minutes.

Would you mind leaving for about twenty to thirty minutes?" Michael hung
his  head his face bright red from having told his father in law what was up. "

At  least let this guy put on his little show? And then you two can come
back. I'll  call you as soon as the coast is clear." Clay laughed, thinking
about the idea  and how good it was and how it would get Trent out of his
current  mood.

"I'll distract her Michael. Sarah said the same thing on the way in this
evening that he needed something to get him out of this mood he's been in.

So  I'll take her for coffee downstairs and then in a little while we'll
come back  up."

"Thanks Dad, you're the best!"

"That's what you all say, but I think you're all blowing smoke up my  ass."

 The two of them just stood there and laughed for a minute and then went
back in the room.

"Sarah my love let's go downstairs and grab a coffee and leave these two
love birds alone for a few minutes."

"I could use one, handsome." With those words spoken the two of them were
of the door.

"What are you up to, mister?"

"Not me this time; it's your son. Michael has planned a little surprise
for Trent and, being the gentleman he is, he didn't think you should be
there.  So he asked me to entertain you while his surprise showed up and
entertained  Trent."

"What kind of surprise would I have to leave for  exactly?"

"Well, my love, to be honest with you, Michael got Trent a male  stripper."

 Sarah's face got red and faked being embarrassed over the ordeal. But
inside she loved the idea and hoped that it would help Trent get him out of his
 bad mood.

"Well I hope it works," was all Sarah said.

"So do I, pumpkin, so do I." They walked the rest of the way in peace and
quiet and with pride thinking of Trent and Michael. The thought about what
life  had been like since Michael had come to live with them that first
night. They  talked for some time about all the things that transpired, both the
good and the  bad. Right now it was Trent's turn to experience the bad
thing. No rhyme, no  reason, it was just the way it was.


------------------
An orderly came into the room, pushing a cart, covered in a blue sterile
material. He informed Trent that some tests had been ordered, and that he
liked  to listen to music while he did his work. Trent really didn't want to
hear the  music, but he figured the sooner the test was over the faster the
kid would be  out of here. Michael closed the door cause the music was a
little on the loud  side. Trent was surprised by the volume. However, he liked
what he heard. He  closed his eyes and tapped his hand on his cast to the
music. The dancer was now  dancing to the music and Michael poked Trent in the
ribs and his eyes flew open.  He finally noticed what was going on because
the guy was taking his scrubs off.  Now Trent really opened his eyes, the guy
was built, really  built.

The saying built like a brick shithouse came to mind when thinking of a
description as he reached out and took off his rubber gloves and stethoscope.

Now he took off his mask and cap. Michael didn't know what Trent thought,
but he  himself thought that guy had the face of an angel. Michael began to
think that  this wasn't such a good idea, because Trent was practically
falling out of the  bed trying to watch this guy. And then he took of the pants.

Both of them had a  hard time containing themselves. He had a solid nine
inches and the black satin  underwear glistened in the light and there was
definitely a wet spot at the end  of his dick. Michael caught Trent licking his
lips. He guessed he had taken his  mind off of his current problem. Now he
had another problem he would gladly take  care of for Trent. The sheet showed
Trent's problem quite prominently. He didn't  seem to mind at the moment
or at least he didn't seem to  notice.

The stripper finished his routine and shut off the music and both guys
were aroused to say the least. Michael paid the guy. He left as quietly as he
had entered the room, blending into the hospital atmosphere in his scrubs.

Trent  was smiling and was in a much better mood. Michael had successfully
altered his  frame of mind with a simple striptease. Who would have thought it
would be this  easy? Michael was glad to see a smile on Trent's face again.

Now he just had to  jerk him off to complete the smile he was sporting.

Michael went over to the side of the bed and slid his hand under the  sheet
and slowly surrounded Trent's steel shaft. Trent shuttered, moaned and
closed his eyes in absolute sexual pleasure, the first time in  weeks.

"Oh, Mikey, it's been so long" Trent could barely speak. "This feels so
good, you have no idea how good this feels. Make it last for me, please."

The  pleading broke Michael's heart. No wonder Trent had been in such a mood:
he  hadn't had a chance of any sexual release in a while. Michael slowly
stroked  Trent's cock up and down. It took mere seconds for him to produce
precum.  Michael used it to coat Trent's penis. He was producing so much that
Michael's  hand was even getting wet from it. But he remained slow and steady
stroking  Trent's cock, promising himself that he would give him a really
first class hand  job. Perhaps even edge a little, make him beg for it,
although it probably  wouldn't take much for him to make him beg.

He quickened his pace for about twenty seconds and slowed down for about
the same amount of time. He repeated this for about five minutes, driving
Trent  mad with sexual urge. He was silently screaming inside, desperately in
need of  orgasmic bliss. Michael stopped completely and walked away from the
bed, leaving  Trent looking devastated. Michael closed the door and returned
to a smiling  Trent.

"I thought I'd make this a little more personal than just a hand job.  That
's just so cold for you and me."  Having said that, Michael lifted the
sheet and leaned down and engulfed  Trent's cock with his mouth. Trent
immediately lifted his ass off the bed,  trying to insert as much of his cock into
his lover's orifice as he could. Trent  was in heaven and wanted this
pleasure to last forever. Michael was giving him  head for what seemed like the
very first time. He just knew how to suck him off  and bring him to the very
edge of almost cumming and orgasmic bliss with the use  of his tongue and
lips, and the suction he was creating was mind  bending.

Michael stopped long enough to come up and give Trent a kiss on the lips
and Trent groaned in mock agony and part in truth from the torture that
Michael  was putting him through. Michael was swirling his tongue around in Trent'
s mouth  and there was no doubt were his tongue had been. After a few
minutes of kissing,  Michael went back to sucking Trent's cock. This time he was
determined to bring  him to a climax. He cradled Trent's balls in his hands
and lovingly rocked them  in between his fingers, slowly stretching them and
then lightly dragging along  the skin with his fingernails. It was
something that Trent loved, and Michael  made it a habit of keeping his nails just
the right length for Trent's sexual  pleasure. It sent chills throughout his
body during sex with  Michael.

The tension was building up in his body and Michael could feel his balls
draw closer up and get tighter. As his body signaled that his orgasm was
getting  closer, he decided to turn on the power and sucked harder and quickened
his  pace. He soaked Trent with his saliva and hummed as he took him
further down his  throat. Trent was grasping at the sheets as the orgasm racked
his body. It  finally took place and his body shook. Michael tried to take it
all, but since  he hadn't cum in some time the volume was just too much and
some escaped from  his mouth and coated Trent's cock. With his good hand
Trent lovingly felt  Michael's erection through his jeans. Michael leaned into
him and without any  trouble came. Trent leaned forward and kissed Michael
as he lingered in the  world of his orgasm. He was too spent to move.

"I love you, Michael Wayne Evans..."

Michael kissed his way up Trent's stomach up to his neck and Adam's
apple. He kissed his ear and then kissed him on the mouth and left his sperm
there for him to savor.

"I hope you liked your surprise. I know I sure  did."

"Oh hell YEA, I loved my surprise" Trent was beaming  from ear to ear.

Michael cleaned everything up and sat back down. About five  minutes passed and
there was a knock on the door. Clay and Sarah had returned  from their
coffee.

"Hope we aren't interrupting anything you two?"

"No we're good. Come on in."

"I don't know what it is, but Trent, you're  smiling."

"Michael had me laughing and it put me in a good  mood."

"Whatever he did to make you laugh, I hope he keeps it up, because it's
the happiest I've seen you in a few days, Trent."

"I know I haven't been exactly the most pleasant person in the world
lately. What can I say? These casts, you try them on and see how you feel,
honestly, you wouldn't feel much different than I do, trust  me."

"You're probably right, Trent. I don't think I would like it any more
than you do."

"It's all it is, Mom. I'm going through it for you, so don't worry about
it."

"Thanks, but the next time you want to go through something for me, check
with me first and we'll discuss it. How's that sound  dear?"

"Sounds good to me!" Trent and his mother both laughed over their silly
comment.

Days turned to week and before long Trent was out of his leg cast, but he
was still wearing the cast on his arm. The doctors were telling him that it
would be another three to six weeks before it would come off and that would
turn  into an air cast from then on. Trent groaned in exasperation. He
truly was tired  of living in the casts. Since January it had been fourteen
weeks of dealing with  casts and Trent was done with them, at least mentally.

The next step was physical therapy and  that was something he was not looking
forward to either. He was trying to hold  off until Michael was on summer
break. He had registered for three classes for  the summer session. The casts
were bad enough. He couldn't imagine what they  were going to do to him in
physical therapy.


----------------
Trent thought about Michael's mother for the first time in a long time  and
wondered what Michael was thinking and how he was dealing with it. They
hadn't talked about it for some time now and he was concerned that Michael
hadn't said anything. He hoped that Michael wasn't withdrawing inside himself
 over the whole thing; he knew that it could happen. He was going to have
to talk  to him about the situation. Trent knew he would be devastated by the
loss of his  mother, let alone by the hands of someone who had shot her.

This had to be  killing Michael inside. First chance he had when they were
alone he would bring  up the conversation and gage his reaction. That could be
tricky. Sometimes it  was hard to read Michael when it came to emotional
things, and this was one of  those hard times. So many times he had tried to
break into the conversation and  Michael would shoot him down before he even
really got  started.

Trent hated the hard times, mostly because he hated fucking up with
Michael. He just wanted everything to be perfect with him. He knew that wasn't
always going to happen, but he hoped he could work on that. He was going to
try  anyway. He heard Michael come into the house and his heart skipped a
beat. He  wondered why, after all this time, his heart still did that. Not that
he minded,  not at all; not one bit. When Michael came into his room, Trent
was sporting a  smile a mile wide.

"To what do I owe this extra big smile today?"

"I was just thinking how my heart still skips a beat every time you come
into the house or when I hear your voice." Michael blushed and turned away
from  Trent."

"Stop it, Trent; you know how I get when you say things like that. I get
all flustered, so stop it right now, and I mean it Trent. Not that I don't
appreciate it, it's just that I don't know how to...oh just stop  it."

"Come here, buddy, and sit next to me on the bed...give me a kiss. It's
been lonely today."

"No funny business, mister."

"No, sir. Serious business today, Michael."

"Uh oh, that sounds bad. Can I go and come back  later?"

"No, you may not Mr. Evans. Now sit here and be a grown up and listen to
me for a few minutes. And then maybe, just maybe, if you're good, you can
have  milk and cookies."

"Wow, really? Milk and cookies? You mean like at the same time?" Michael
began to wonder what  Trent was up to.

"Keep it up, smartass, and you won't get anything, now I'm being  serious."


"All right Trent, what's up?"

"Michael, you haven't mentioned your mother for some time or anything
about the trial that will be up before long. What are you thinking  about?"

"Being honest, Trent, I don't know what to think. I'm not sure who did
it. If my father did it, then let him get what he deserves, lethal injection,
the electric chair, whatever, blow his head off. I believe in an eye for an
eye.  Shoot him the same way he shot my mother. If Kevin did it, the same
thing goes  for him. The same punishment applies. Why would it be any
different? I don't  know anyone else who could have done it. I'm out of suspects
after that. My  mother was nice to anyone she met Trent. She went out of her
way to help people.  Two weeks after we moved into this town, she was
helping people that were moving  into town and she sounded like she knew this
place like the back of her hand. I  don't know how she did it and it was like
that in every town we lived  in."

"She knew how to make people feel at home, Michael. Some people are like
that and just have that ability in them from the moment they are born. You
have  to admit that she made you feel safe and protected from the minute you
moved  in."

"You're right, she did do that."

"Your mother was like that, except she could do it on a larger scale,
Michael. She did it so many times; she was just used to it. I just don't want to
 see you withdraw from me or anyone because of it. I want you to talk to me
about  this and keep talking, okay? Will you promise me that? I'm worried
about you,  you know that, don't you?"

"I think I do know Trent and I appreciate that fact. It also tells me how
much you love me, Trent, Mr. Sex Machine."

"I heard that, you two". Sarah was walking down the hall passing the
bedroom as she happened to hear their conversation and had decided to listen in
on it. She knew she shouldn't have, but she was caught up in the concern in
 Trent's voice and her curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to hear
what was  said.

"Honestly, I didn't mean to intrude in your privacy, but when I heard
what the subject was I grew concerned and wanted to hear what you were
thinking,  Michael. I'm glad to hear what you had to say and what you feel I think
it is  very admirable. If it gets to a point and you have any questions,
please feel  free to ask if Trent can't answer any of them, okay?"

"Yes, mam." With that being said Sarah left the room and went  downstairs.

"Mr. Sex Machine. Smooth Michael, that was really smooth, I'm sure if she
heard that, she heard the whole conversation. Not just part of it.

Delicious,  don't you think? I'll tell you one thing: I'm not looking forward to
that damn  physical therapy thing starting tomorrow, that's for sure. It has
me worried,  Mikey."

"Why, Trent? You can do this. Just look at it as going to the gym and
doing exercises, that's all, and you'll get through it just fine. You want me
to  join you? How about if Tiny and I come and help you do it? I know Tiny
has been  asking about you a lot lately and how you're doing. He hasn't seen
you since  before Thanksgiving and he would at least like to see you again
before the  summer rolls around. Why don't you let him come and help you lift
weights?"

"Michael, I told you I don't want people I know to see me like this. I'm
not going to have this conversation again, got it? Or are we going to have a
 fight over this again?
"No, we aren't. I'm leaving the room and let you be alone. Just the way
you want it. It's a shame, because people are just trying to help you get
better  and trying to make it so you're not struggling all by yourself. But
Trent, you  have your head so far up your ass you just can't see it. I have
some homework  that needs to be done and that's the way it goes, got it,  Trent?
"

Michael got up and walked out of the room, leaving Trent to stew for a
while. He would have to deal with his own thoughts by himself. Michael was
tired  of Trent being selfish whenever it suited him. He spent the rest of the
night  working on his homework and went to bed not saying goodnight to Trent.

He left  early in the morning before Trent got up for Physical Therapy.

Trent got up and was afraid of what he was facing. He regretted the fight
he had had with Michael the night before and wished he had gone to him last
night and had said so. He hated going to sleep being mad at him. He had
made a  promise to himself a long time ago to not do that and here he was,
doing just  that again. He would beg for  Michael's forgiveness tonight after
dinner, although he felt as though he didn't  deserve it.