Stripped Bare (33 page)

Matthew thought numbly in another time and situation he may have found that comment about the thickness of his lover’s skull amusing. But not now.

The doctor observed him in sympathy. “If he hadn’t, we’d be having a very different conversation. We’ve managed to set the broken arm, the thumb, taken care of the broken ribs. I’m hoping the internal bleeding has been sorted as well. We’re keeping a close eye on it. He was a very lucky man. If he hadn’t got treatment in the ambulance when he did, I doubt he would have survived.”

Matthew almost fell to his knees and it was only both the doctor’s hand supporting his elbow and Timmy’s hands on his waist that stopped him. David’s face was white.

“Can I see him?” Matthew whispered.

Shapiro sighed. “He’s been heavily sedated and I’m going to keep him that way for at least the next few days, maybe longer. It will be better for him to rest and let his body try and repair the damage that was done to it. So he won’t be conscious. But yes. You can see him. He’s in a private room. If you like, we can set up a cot for you in his room tonight and you can stay with him.” He eyes shadowed. “That young man will need all the help and support he can get.”

Matthew nodded. “Thank you. I do intend staying.”

The doctor nodded. “Come along then. I can only really let one of you back there.” He smiled at Timmy. “I understand you’re the gentleman who saved that young man’s life?”

“I was simply in the right place at the right time.” Timmy shook his head. “If anyone sees Shane now, it should be this man. Go, Matthew.”

Matthew nodded. Timmy kissed his cheek gently. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I know you will not leave Shanester’s side tonight. Now go see Shane. Give him a kiss from me.” The man’s eyes were wet.

Matthew nodded numbly.

David leaned forward and hugged him. “Give him a kiss from me as well, Matty,” he said chokingly. “Tell him to please get through this. Tell him we love him.”

Matthew followed Dr. Shapiro down the long corridor, his mind blank. He remembered another time he’d followed a white-coated man into a room. The time he’d had to identify his husband’s mangled body. That had destroyed him and he couldn’t believe he was about to go and see yet another man he loved lying broken. He was trying hard to hold onto his sanity but he honestly thought he was going to lose it. Matthew took a deep breath as they stopped outside a room.

Shapiro looked at him carefully. “I need to explain something to you. He was hit very hard on the head. I have him sedated, but I can’t tell you when he will wake up.”

Matthew could hear the unspoken “or if” in the man’s careful tones.

The doctor continued, “In these sorts of things, we just have to wait. It’s up to the patient most of the time. But I believe in the power of talking. Talk to him constantly. Let him know that you’re there. If he hears the voice of someone he loves deep inside, it could help him to come back from the dark place he’s in. I’ve seen it before. So that would be my advice to you. Let him know you’re there. Give him a reason to fight to come back to you.”

Matthew nodded. The doctor laid a gentle hand on his arm and guided him through the door. At the first sight of the man he loved lying broken and shattered in the hospital bed, Matthew sank down into the chair beside him as hot tears fell down his cheeks. The other man patted his shoulder and left them alone.

“Shay, baby. It’s Matty. I’m here.” Matthew reached out a hand and stroked the cold cheek, his chest aching.

Shane looked like a wax doll, his eyes closed, long lashes lying against stark white cheeks. His head was covered with bandages, and Matthew could see his hair had been shaved off on the left side. There was a huge bruise on his jaw that looked like a boot heel imprint on his lover’s skin.

His broken right arm wasn’t in a cast but instead under layers of gauze bandages. Matthew thought dully they must have repaired it internally, with pins perhaps. Shane’s chest rose and fell evenly and Matthew looked around with gritty eyes at the myriad of tubes, drips and paraphernalia keeping Shane sedated, medicated and quite possibly even alive.

The overwhelming grief threatened to claim him, and he had to clench his fists tight to keep from screaming profanities at Roy Parsons and the world in general.

Matthew Langer wanted so badly to lose control, wanted to kick, punch and destroy everything in range. He struggled to calm the rage welling inside him. That would do Shane no good. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, then opened them again. He leaned forward and gently kissed Shane’s forehead, finding clammy flesh instead of the warmth he was used to.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you. I should have been. I don’t care what happened in the past. We were meant to be together, I know that. I’m just sorry it took something like this for me to be able to tell you that.”

He kissed his lover’s lips softly. “I love you, Shay. Come back to me, baby. I can’t make it without you.” His unstoppable tears fell on Shane’s face and he wiped them away gently with his fingers.

Matthew was bone tired. He pulled his chair closer to the bed, and took Shane’s hand in his as he laid his head on the bed covers. He wasn’t going anywhere. He belonged here with his man.

Shane vaguely heard a voice in his head, but it was so far away he could barely make it out. He desperately wanted to listen but he just couldn’t seem to find his way out of the warm and comfortable place he found himself in, the place where he didn’t have to think or feel. When he tried to reach for the voice pain threaded through his body like the invasive tendrils of a jellyfish, caressing him with agonising, loving whispers of touch. He didn’t want the pain. Shane thought he’d stay there a little longer, in the darkness. He let himself drift back down into the blackness that whispered its insidious message of comfort to him.

The next few days Matthew camped out at the hospital. A camp bed was set up in Shane’s room so Matthew could sleep there when he needed to. He wanted constant access to the doctors and nurses who staffed Shane’s care. He thought they were getting rather tired of his barrage of questions on what was happening and his probing discourses on Shane’s prognosis, but overall they were happy to respond.

Matthew’s phone had not stopped either and when he stepped outside into the small garden to check his messages, there were always more to be read and dealt with. His mother called or texted at least twice a day to check on her son’s well-being and that of his boyfriend.

Matthew wished Shane had got the chance to meet her. He knew they’d get on well together and he’d decided that was one of the first things he was going to arrange when Shane was well. He was taking him to Dresden to meet his sister and mother.

His sister called him one afternoon and Matthew was glad to hear her voice. “Hi, Rachel.” He went out into the visitor’s room to talk and sat down in one of the plastic chairs.

“Hi, little brother. How’s the patient?” Rachael’s voice was concerned.

Matthew felt his eyes prick with tears. “He’s doing okay. The swelling in his brain has gone down, and the bleeding in his stomach seems okay. He looks better, but he’s still not conscious.” Matthew’s voice clogged up with emotion. “I don’t know what else to do, Rach.”

“Matt, you’re doing everything you should be doing. Talking to him, caring for him, loving him. He just needs to know you’re there.” Her voice was soft. “How’s work taking all this?”

“Bartholomew and Julia insisted I take some compassionate leave. Julia’s been here a few times to sit with me. I also have my laptop with me. I sit in the canteen and try to stay caught up on the day job.”

“Have you anyone else there to support you? You know I’d be there in a heartbeat if I could, but this shoot—” His sister’s guilty voice tugged at Matthew’s heart.

“Sweetie, I know. Please don’t worry about not being here. I have David and Timmy.” His voice was wry. “They drive me crazy, trying to cheer me up and sometimes I just want to be alone with Shay. But they’ve been incredibly supportive and I wouldn’t be getting through this without them.”

They’d talked for a while longer then Rachel had rung off, promising to call again.

“But you still won’t wake up, will you, sweetheart?” Matthew murmured as he sat beside Shane one evening. “You can come back now, lover. They’re not sedating you anymore and it’s up to you now. You know what an impatient bastard I am. I need you back here with me.” He took a deep breath.

“I talked to your father yesterday. I’ve been trying to get hold of him but he was out of the country. I had no idea where you lived, so I didn’t know how to get hold of your mum. So I called your father’s office and after facing some gorgon of a bloody secretary, I managed to get a message to him. I told him his son was critically ill in hospital, and if really cared, he’d at least call me back.”

He leaned forward and kissed Shane’s cheek, which was no longer as cold as it had been. “And he called back, Shay. He wants to bring your mother down to see you. I think it may be in a couple of days, I’m not sure. I’ll just expect them when I see them. He doesn’t sound so bad, babe. A little abrupt and very business-like, but not all that scary. He sounded really concerned. He’s putting off a business trip to China to come and see you so I guess that means something.
You
mean something, baby.”

Shane desperately wanted to break free of the darkness that burrowed into his mind and flooded his being with the heaviness of a fire blanket. Somewhere in his mind, in between the blackness that surrounded and claimed him, he could more clearly hear the comforting cadence of his lover’s voice and make out some of the murmured words of love Matty was expressing.

He so desperately wanted to open his eyes and tell him it was okay. But the darkness wouldn’t let him go. At first he’d welcomed it. It had become a friend to him when the pain in his body got too much and the emotions of not having Matthew and being beaten and left to die overwhelmed him. But now, no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to break through the barrier that held him back. He was starting to get truly scared. He had times when he could hear Matty clearly, and on other days it was like listening to an underwater opera where the tones of the voices around him rose and fell with regular monotony, yet he couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Words made no sense but the underlying feeling was one of safety, of love.

He let go again as it was better to be in the dark place rather than struggle to break free in a frustrating journey of semi-awareness and the feeling that he might never get out of the place he was in.

Matthew let himself into the chilled, dark house and closed the door behind him. He’d only come home to get fresh clothes and have a proper shower and perhaps a couple of hours of sleep in a bed before he went back to sit with Shane again.

To his surprise, that afternoon, Bartholomew Maxwell had appeared at the door to Shane’s hospital room. He’d insisted Matthew go home and get some rest in a proper bed. Of course Matthew had refused. He didn’t want to leave Shane’s side.

Bartholomew had regarded him thoughtfully. “Do you trust me, Matthew?”

Matthew had nodded mutely. His boss, and a man he really respected and had come to like a lot, was one of the most honourable men he knew.

“Then forgive me if I tell that you look like crap and you really need to take care of yourself in order to be able to take care of your young man. So this is what I want you to do. Go home, have a shower, get some sleep in a bed instead of that bloody cot bed or the chair. You know me, Matthew. I will take good care of your young man here and if anything happens or changes you know I will call you immediately. You can trust your loved one with me, son. Go home and take some “me time” before you burn out. Or you’ll be no use to anyone.”

Matthew had seen the sense in the suggestion and he nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, Bartholomew,” he murmured as the man’s kindness threatened to unravel him. He seemed to have done a lot of unravelling lately. His friend had hugged him tightly and sent him on his way.

Matthew now lay in bed, looking at the painting he’d hung on his bedroom wall, the one which had replaced the portrait he’d done of Sam. In truth, most of the photos of him and Sam that had been in the house had been removed a while ago, wrapped in tissue paper and placed lovingly in a box in his study. He’d thought it only fair to Shane once he’d started spending more time at Matthew’s home.

Matthew had finished this new painting before they’d broken up and had intended giving it to Shane for Christmas, now only a week away.

It was a portrait of Shane, painted from one of Matthew’s favourite photos of him sitting grinning on a beach in Devon on one of the few weekend getaways they’d taken. He looked carefree and happy and Matthew smiled , remembering the trip.

“Please come back to me, baby,” he whispered at the photo as he fell into an uneasy sleep. “I miss you so much.”

The journey back

Shane was determined this time he was going to make it. The journey to consciousness was taking all his strength but he was hell-bent that he was going to complete it. He’d heard Matthew’s voice more clearly lately as he fought his way past the darkness and the comfort of oblivion, desperate to get back to that beloved voice.

The pain ebbed and waned and caused him to lose his way, but he fought against it. He needed to be back on the path that brought him to Matthew.

Fuck you, darkness
, he gasped as he swam upstream like a salmon against the current that threatened to drive him back.
You are not going to fucking beat me on this one.

Matthew leaned back in the hospital chair and ran a hand through his hair. It had gotten too long but he just hadn’t had the time or the inclination to have it cut. It had seemed pointless. Christmas had come and gone, and now it was Boxing Day.

In all honesty, Matthew hadn’t given a damn about Christmas. With Shane not being around, there were no festivities to celebrate. He
had
put a small token Christmas tree up in the room, with a few baubles just in case Shane woke up. Matthew really wasn’t in the Christmas spirit. He’d been given a plate of turkey and stuffing by the hospital staff but it had tasted like cardboard. He’d refused all invitations to join family and friends, much to their frustration. He couldn’t celebrate or enjoy himself when Shane was still lying in a hospital bed. His boyfriend had been in the hospital for two weeks now with no indication of when he would wake up.