Fall Apart (29 page)

Alarik met Leo and Molly outside of Damon’s room and asked for the third time if they really believed it was okay for him to be there. Molly had hugged him and patted his cheek. “He may not realize right now just how much he needs his family and friends around, but we’re going to be here for him.”

That was the polite way of saying that Damon probably didn’t want to see him, but he was going to anyway. In the face of this awful situation, Molly was standing in the gap and trying to be strong for all of them. Leo’s concern for Damon was so deep that he’d barely said a word in the last few days. He squeezed Alarik’s shoulder and opened the door to Damon’s room.

“Hey, Day,” Leo said. “We’re going to bust you out of here.”

Someone had already brought in a wheel chair and Damon was leaning on the edge of his bed, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His jacket could only fit over the arm without the cast, so the right side was draped over his shoulder. His bruises were turning blue green and his eye looked a little better. It took all three of them to help steady him as he took a seat in the wheel chair; his broken ribs were incredibly painful.

“You’re moving a bit faster already,” Molly said in an attempt to sound cheerful.

“Next stop, Olympics,” he murmured back, and it was the first time Alarik had heard him speak in days.

“The nurse said you already signed your paperwork?”

“Yeah, left-handed.” Damon wasn’t looking up. He hadn’t made eye contact with any of them and he didn’t seem to care that they’d come. Alarik’s heart broke a little more for him.

He opened his mouth and said the first thing that he could think of. “I picked up your medication from the pharmacy, so you’re all set.”

Damon nodded and Leo gave Alarik a sympathetic look before pointing toward the door. “Let’s get you home, Day.”

They’d gone a few steps with Molly and Alarik bringing up the rear, holding Damon’s things, when Damon dropped his left hand to the wheel to bring it to a stop. “I need to talk to Luke when we get home. Could one of you call him and tell him to come?”

Molly and Alarik exchanged a glance. “Sure, baby. I can do that, but if it’s something you need, we can get it for you on the way home.”

“We need to talk about Todd’s funeral,” Damon answered, his voice toneless.

An uncomfortable beat of silence followed and Alarik swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I’ll call him, Damon. He’ll be there.”

Damon lifted his hand from the wheel and Leo took it as a signal to move again. They got him into Molly’s car without incident and now Alarik was following them home, watching Damon through the back window of his parent’s car and wondering what to do. But, there was nothing he could do, was there…?

***

Damon was biting his lips to keep from groaning over the pain in his side. Even the tiniest movement the wrong way could make him lightheaded. Everyone was watching him, too. Waiting for him to explode like the night Todd died. They didn’t know how that explosion was ongoing; he was keeping it to himself. He’d wondered a couple times how his body hadn’t shattered from the tremors pounding through him, nailing his lungs with each breath. He should be in pieces by now.

He needed to see Luke right away, but he didn’t
want
to see him any more than he wanted to see Alarik, or Mandy, or Jess, or Franco…

In the backseat of his mom’s car, he was able to see his truck in the side mirror, so that meant that someone had gone to pick it up from the lot. A thorn of irritation poked his heart. He didn’t need anyone cleaning up the past so he could pretend this hellish shit wasn’t happening. It was unforgettable, a stain on his soul.

“The guest room is all ready for you, Damon,” his mom smiled at him from the front passenger seat. “But, if you don’t want to be cooped up in there, we can make you comfortable on the couch.”

“Thanks, mom.”

She smiled at him and he had to look away. He couldn’t take it.

At the house, Luke and Mandy’s BMW was parked at the curb and it was like a fist to the eye. He pictured Todd holding up the keys, driving them around the lot.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Don’t think about it.

Damon blinked back the moisture in his eyes and swallowed a few times. Luke came forward to help him from the car and Damon lifted the fingers of his left hand in the semblance of a wave.

It took several minutes for him to make the walk up to the porch and once he was there he knew he couldn’t take another step. “Let me sit here for a while,” he panted.

Molly and Alarik carried his things into the house and Leo brought a blanket to spread over his legs, like Damon was a true invalid. Luke sat next to him and Damon noticed how nervous his friend looked.

Once everyone was inside except for the two of them, he looked out on the street he’d grown up on. “What’s going on with funeral arrangements?” he asked. “That’s up to me and you, right?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Day, if you’re worried about being involved with that now, Mandy’s been in touch with Todd’s lawyer and—”

“I want to know where he is and what the plan is so far.”

Luke stared at him like he didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red with unshed tears. “H-he’s at Sherman’s Funeral Home. They’re, going to have the wake for him there and then there’ll be a small graveside service.”

The ache in Damon’s throat began in earnest, but he wanted to know about the plans; he
needed
to be involved in the details.

“He should be in the black suit,” said Damon. “The one from your wedding brunch.”

Luke let out a breath that bordered on a moan. “Mandy took it to Sherman’s.”

“When’s the service?”

“Monday at ten and following the memorial, they’ll move him to the Gracechurch cemetery.”

“Do the people he works with know the details?” Damon was picturing Simone as he asked.

“Not about the services,” Luke sighed and Damon knew his attitude was hurting him. “I can call and let them know.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Damon, you should rest. I can—”

“I’ll call,” Damon said flatly. “He needs pallbearers.”

Luke gave up, dropping his head into his hands and crying softly. Damon watched, his eyes welling up, but he only needed to stay in control a little bit longer.

“You, Franco—I can get three more guys from his office. And I’ll help.”

Luke’s head rose in surprise; his cheeks were tear-stained. “You can’t lift anything, Damon. You can barely move.”

Damon grit his teeth and slowly but surely stood to his feet. It was like someone was taking a hot poker and stabbing him in the side. “I’ll figure something out.”

Turning like he expected all his bones to give way, he shuffled to the door. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard Luke whisper something.

“What?”

“Are you mad at me? Because I wasn’t there?”

Damon looked over his shoulder at his friend and tried to answer the question honestly. Yes, he was mad. He was pissed. But, not at Luke. If he looked beneath the anger, he was pretty sure he’d find a pit of emotions that no one should ever be exposed to. His thoughts were poisonous.

“I’m not mad at you, Luke,” he admitted. “Thanks for looking after the arrangements.”

“Damon, we were all his friends; we can get through this together.”

“You go on home. Tell Mandy I said thank you.”

“Damon,” Luke pleaded.

“I’ll see you later.” Damon made it one step into the house before his mom and Alarik converged on him. His dad was on the phone, his expression unsure. “I’d like to lie down,” he told them.

A few minutes later, he was carefully lowering himself to the mattress and Molly was busily adjusting his blankets. He was aware of Alarik standing nearby, a silent witness to it all, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak or reach out to him. Molly discreetly left the room, giving Alarik a sad smile and a squeeze on his arm as she passed.

“I want to be alone, please.”

“Tough shit, darling,” Alarik calmly replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The torment that Damon managed to keep at bay in Luke’s presence was at the brim of its protective walls and he knew he couldn’t hold it back much longer.

“Go away, Alarik.” His voice scraped against his raw throat.

“No.”

The first sob wasn’t too bad. Damon fought it off. “Go!” he gasped, the anger rising up to help him get the word out.

“I’m not leaving this room!” Alarik snapped. “So, you can scream, rant, weep—whatever it is you need to do—but you’ll not be alone for one
single
second.”

Before Alarik even finished his sentence, the tears boiled over and that clawing beast of pain inside of Damon broke free. There were so many people in the world who were happily living their lives, and if they had any cares, they were probably simple, like being late paying a bill, or wondering if they should take a certain job. Just last week, Damon was one of those people, and so was Todd. They were thinking about dating and sex and what would happen
tomorrow
.

Covering his mouth with his hand, he tried to muffle the sobs as they fought free of his body. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and hot tears escaped through them anyway, leaving wet trails over his temples into his hair. The bed shifted as Alarik stretched out beside him, cradling him as best he could in the cramped space.

“I love you and I’m here no matter what,” Alarik whispered. “You don’t have to deal with this on your own.”

Damon told himself that accepting Alarik’s comfort this once was excusable. He could go back to being strong in a little while. Yet, as he filled his lungs with Alarik’s familiar and soothing scent, those assurances didn’t ease the guilt.

***

Alarik’s buzzing phone snapped him out of a doze and he carefully moved from Damon’s side, trying not to wake him. After a miserable crying jag, Damon had finally consented to taking his pain medication. Alarik was thanking the gods because for a minute there, he thought his boyfriend would refuse and only make his situation worse.

In the hallway, he pulled his phone from his pocket and saw Max’s name.

“Hello, Max.”

“How are you? I’m worried.”

Alarik’s breath caught because he wasn’t really doing well at all and having someone ask about it revealed the cracks in his façade. He was helpless, trying to comfort the man he loved.

“I’ve been better, honestly. I spoke with my aunt and uncle yesterday, which was nice, but it’s all rather uncertain around here. You understand.”

“Damon’s back home?”

“Yes.”

Max sighed and let the silence hang between them for a bit. They were listening to each other breathe and it was oddly calming. “Take all the time that you need for this, Alarik, but I wanted to tell you that…” He paused and Alarik found himself leaning forward on his toes, waiting for what Max would say. “I miss you and I hope you come back soon. That’s what I wanted to say. Work might help. Damon needs time, too.”

Alarik was floored. An admission from Max? “I’ll stay here until after the funeral on Monday, then I’ll call you and let you know when to expect me.”

“I’ll wait to hear from you. I really am sorry that Damon lost his friend.”

“Max,” Alarik began, a little wigged out because he wasn’t accustomed to this level of availability from the other man, “I didn’t get to say thank you for that night. For driving me to Ventura and…well…staying by my side.”

“You’re welcome, Alarik. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alarik ended the call and eased the bedroom door open only to find Damon awake and staring at him with accusing eyes.

“Max was here?”

Damon noticed Alarik didn’t even have the grace to look uncomfortable. “I was at the office with him. He’d only just arrived when I received the call you’d been hurt and I was too distraught to drive. He offered to take me to you.”

Damon snorted and then winced. Of course the guy offered to drive.

“And, he
stayed
by your side. That was sweet of him—and smart because he got himself a little more alone time to expose his bleeding heart.”

Alarik watched him for an interminable moment before crossing his arms and leaning against the doorjamb. “It
was
kind of him.”

Damon rolled his eyes and turned his head to look out the window. A hateful, oppressive force was building inside of him and he wanted to release all of that venom. He’d been in the Intensive Care Unit watching his friend—

“Listen,” Damon bit off the word. “I’m not gonna lose it again and cry all over you, so you can go now.”

“Damon.” Alarik kneeled by the side of the bed. “Why are you picking a fight with me? Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Haven’t you heard my mom any of the hundreds of times she’s said that I need rest?”

“I have—”

“Well, I can’t really sleep if my boyfriend is taking calls outside my door from a man that will do anything to get him into bed.”

Alarik actually fucking chuckled and Damon’s head swung around to stare at him in disbelief.

“Damon, you can’t be serious. Keep in mind that he is my friend,
only
my friend, and on top of that, he’s my boss. I have a contractual obligation to him right now and he’s willing to give me the time to be where I want to be, which is here with you, in case you wondered.”

The last part of Alarik’s sentence told Damon that the other man wasn’t really all that amused by the observations on Max. The ravenous creature inside of him fed off that irritation and grew a fraction larger.

“So the only reason he called was to give you time off?”

“Damon.” Alarik’s tone was a warning. “Stop this.”

“Answer the question.”

“He called to see how his
friend
was doing. He told me to take the time I needed and that he was sorry about Todd.”

Damon’s lip curled even as his eyes stung. “He must be really anxious to have you back at his side where you two can
explore
your creative talent.”

Alarik stared at him in hurt surprise, and then leaned forward to place a soft kiss against Damon’s cracked and bruised lips. When he pulled away, he sighed. “I love you, Damon. I’ll let you rest now and be out of your way.”