Every afternoon after his first victory, Gus showed up after school and sent me on my way home for a few hours of sleep. It made him happy and I know it improved my attitude. I wasn’t as likely to get into a screaming match with Melanie over any of our usual shit. I didn’t get as aggravated at the doctors or nurses when they couldn’t tell me anything new and I didn’t feel like all of my emotions would explode at a moments notice.

I always brought back dinner for Gus and I when I’d return. We’d eat and he’d tell me about anything I’d missed while I was gone. Whether it was a visit from Emmett or a nurse coming in to check on Justin, he’d tell me every detail. That made it easier to be away, knowing I’d still be informed. Then he would head home for the night and I’d sit alone with Justin.

I sat next to his bed and usually found myself reading an article on brain injuries that Gus had printed out off of the computer, a book, a magazine, or a newspaper, whatever Gus had left there for me. Tonight was no different; I sat reading the newspaper when a voice startled me. It was low and raspy but familiar.

“Hey.”

I sat the paper down and looked around. I was alone with Justin. I stared at him.

“Hey.” He said it again. He winced a little and put his hand up near his throat.

“Hey.” I picked up the water pitcher next to his bed and poured a little into the plastic cup that was sitting on his tray. Tearing the paper off of a straw I put that into the cup and held it up to his lips. He sucked in a little and swallowed.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

“No problem. Let me know if you need more.”

He nodded and reached for my hand. We locked fingers and I just stared at him unsure of what to say.

“It’s about time you woke up.”

He gave a weak smile and closed his eyes. He looked exhausted but his eyes kept fluttering like he was trying so hard to keep them open. I squeezed his hand softly.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

He looked at me and I could see he was searching for his words.

“Why?” He asked again.

“Why? Why are you here?”

He nodded

“Why did this happen?”

He nodded again and looked grateful to me for filling in his questions.

“You got hurt. You’re getting better. Shit happens, Justin.”

He nodded and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized how hard of a time he was having communicating. I must have fallen asleep, because the first thing I can remember about the day was feeling my hand being lightly smacked. I looked up and saw Justin’s eyes pleading with me for something.

“What?” I said rubbing my eyes. He just looked over at the water pitcher.

“Thirsty?” I asked as I poured some water into the cup.

“Yes.” He sipped it again while I held it out to him. He did wrap his fingers around mine to show me that he could hold it himself, that he wasn’t helpless.

“You want me to let go?” He nodded.

“So how do you feel this morning?”

He looked at me and shrugged.

“Justin, talk to me.”

He didn’t say anything, just handed the cup back to me.

“Are you pissed off at me about something?” My own insecurities are shining through now. Why in the hell am I asking him that?

“No.”

“If I remember correctly you usually don’t shut up. Why are you being so quiet?”

He looked at me and I could see that he was agitated. He’d open his mouth as if he was going to say something, then thought better of it and closed it.

“Fine, don’t talk to me.” He was starting to piss me off. I sat back down and picked up the newspaper from the day before and pretended to read it. I watched him over the paper and saw he still wanted to say something, but wouldn’t.

“Just say it, Justin.” I sat the paper down on the floor.

That was met by silence

“Do you want me to go?” I stood up and I felt sick to my stomach the second that question escaped my lips. Was he going to ask me leave? After all the time I’d put in, after showing everyone that I care?

“No.” I looked into his eyes to make sure he meant that.

“Then say whatever it is that you want to say.” I’m preparing myself for something, not sure what. I’m sure it’s going to be something about how I’ve always treated him badly, thrown him away, didn’t care enough. I brace myself for it.

“Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I’m starting to figure this out. I’ve read all the articles Gus printed out for me. Justin wasn’t able to find his words; it was common for head injuries if I remembered the article right. I’d have to find that and read it again.

“Can’t.” He said and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“You really can’t?” Why did I ask that? I know he can’t.

He shook his head from side to side. His tears started to flow down his cheeks.

“Shhhhh… Shhhhh…” I rubbed his arm trying to comfort him. “It’s okay Justin. Give it some time. We’ll talk to the doctor. I’m sure it’s temporary. It’s something you can work through okay?”

He nodded and rolled over on his side to face me. I leaned in and placed my forehead against his trying my best to comfort him. His change in breathing signaled me that he’d fallen asleep again. I pulled back some to look at him, and once I was sure that he was asleep I placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Everything is going to be okay sunshine.” I whispered as I watched him sleep.

To Be Continued