I sit on his bed and let his arms wrap around me, feeling how trembly and weak he is. I press my face into his hair and stroke my hand across his back, letting my fingers trace his ribs. I want to take care of him so badly, but I don’t think I know how.
“I called Benjamin,” I say, listening carefully for any change in his breathing, but all that happens is Micky hugs me tighter.
“Are you angry?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
“No.” His voice is muffled against my top. “Not angry, I promise.”
“I didn’t know what to do.” I don’t know how to express what I mean by that—how to explain how overwhelmed I was and how much it scares me.
Micky pulls away, looks at me, strokes my face. “I’ve never seen you cry and I don’t want to be the cause of it if you do.” He tilts my chin up. I see my reflection in the blue, how pained my expression is, so I change it to a happier one. “I’m sorry, Danny. I’m so, so sorry. Do you know what the doctor told me?”
He waits for me to shake my head.
“He said my body is shutting down because I’m not giving it enough of what it needs. I did this. It’s my fault.
I’m sorry
.”
His face scrunches up, and I can see he’s trying not to cry, but a sob bursts out of him loud enough that one of the nurses comes over to glare at me. All I can do is hold him tight and stroke his hair as a hundred more sobs wrack his body.
Eventually they stop, but he’s completely drained. Micky wants me to lie on his bed with him, but the nurse at the nurses’ station should be called Hawkeye because she shakes her head slowly and mouths “Don’t you dare” when I move to bring my legs up.
Micky rolls his eyes, and his smile is worth any amount of disapproval from those nurses. But at the same time, I don’t want them to chuck me out.
I look at all the machines in the room, fascinated. Leaning to one side so Hawkeye can’t see, Micky pulls the tape off his wrist and shows me the cannula pushing into his skin. He lets me touch it, presses my fingers against it so I can feel the hard plastic inside him. One night he told me he wished I could touch all the places inside him no one has ever touched, but because that would probably kill him, he let me into his mind instead.
After the cannula, he tells me the long tube it’s attached to is feeding him intravenously and it makes him feel disgusted and he knows that’s fucked-up. Careful to keep the blanket covering everything below his belly button, he lifts up the hospital gown and shows me the electrodes stuck to his chest that are monitoring his heart. I try to keep my eyes on all the hospital stuff, but when Micky places my hand on his stomach, against his warm smooth skin, I lose focus… until Hawkeye comes over and insists Micky keep his clothes in place, anyway.
Visiting time is over too soon. I ask to stay, say I’ll sleep on the floor and they won’t even know I’m there. But Hawkeye says, “Not a chance.” She does give us two more minutes, though.
“Did you tell Benjamin I was in hospital? Did he say he was coming here?” Micky picks at the tape on his wrist and doesn’t look at me. It’s the first time he’s mentioned me calling his brother.
I nod.
“Do you know where he was?”
“Berlin.”
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you didn’t know what to do,” he says miserably.
“No more sorrys.” There’s no point. I
know
he doesn’t want this to have happened.
“One more,” he says, pushing himself up with a wince and wrapping his arms tightly around me. He doesn’t say it, though.
DIANA IS
waiting in the corridor outside.
“Okay?” she asks with a gentle smile. “I’ll take you home.”
I can’t think how to respond. I have no intention of going anywhere. I’m staying as close to Micky as I can and that probably means staying here in this corridor or in the waiting room down the hall. There is a good chance the swimming pool has been sealed up by the police by now. And even if not, it’s too far.
I think about Milo, and the guilt that I might have lost him his home is too immense to focus on.
“Benjamin is coming here. I’ve got to stay,” I say.
“I’ll bring you back first thing in the morning. You need to rest, Danny.”
Diana has always been kind to me, letting me fix stuff that probably didn’t always need fixing in exchange for food and most of the time just giving me food anyway. I like her so much. She wants to help people like I want to help people, I can see it, but she’s never stepped outside of that and focused on me, and I don’t know what’s changed exactly.
“What are you doing?” It’s not the question I want to ask, but at the same time, it’s exactly what I mean. I’m not sure it makes any sense, though.
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” she replies, and I think she may feel as uncertain as I do. “How’s Micky?”
“He’s doing better. They’re still running tests.” I don’t know what kind of tests they are. “Benjamin is going to be here. I’m going to wait,” I repeat.
I turn away from her to signal this conversation is over, but she doesn’t seem to want to get the message and touches my arm.
“Don’t,” I say loudly, catching the hurt expression on her face as I flinch away. This isn’t how I want to be acting. But I’m scared and on edge, and I don’t want to be anywhere but here.
I take off down the corridor as if I know where I’m going, and I hope she doesn’t feel bad and come after me.
SOME TIME
later I end up back outside Micky’s ward. I wasn’t lying to Diana about Benjamin coming, but if he does come, I don’t think they’ll let him in to see Micky until tomorrow anyway.
I lied to the nurses about being Micky’s brother. I stifle a smile when I realize that may be why I got so many funny looks on the ward when Micky and I were touching and close.
The whole place is quieter now, with fewer people wandering around. As soon as I curl up on the floor near the ward doors, a porter comes along and pokes me in the stomach with his boot.
“Waiting room is down there,” he says with a jerk of his head.
So I go, and, squirrelling myself away under a chair in the corner, I sleep.
I HAVE
this weird dream about being in America with Micky. He’s never said a lot about Arizona, only that the sun is bright and warm and the Sonoran Desert is beautiful. I dream we lie down on our backs among the cactuses and the little prickly plants, and look up at the sky. The sky is huge, of course, a whole forever of blue above us. Micky turns his head, looks at me really sadly, and tells me the sky’s so heavy he can’t carry its weight. I tell him it’ll be okay, I’ll take the weight, but however hard I try, it slips through my fingers like the wind and I can’t catch hold of it.
I know in places it’s not a dream. I know I’m awake and realizing something. Something painful. Something I should have known all along.
MY FACE
is pressed to the huge window that spans the corridor outside Micky’s ward, and I’m staring at a different sky—this one an ominous slate gray—when Benjamin da Silva arrives. He’s wearing a crumpled black suit that looks as though it’s been slept in, and his blond hair is kind of crazy. He seems younger than I remember.
“Danny?” he gasps.
His hands are tucked into loose trembling fists at his side, and he looks at me expectantly. I can feel the energy coming off him in great sea-like waves. I wish I could hide behind my hair, but instead I flick my gaze over his and say hi with my hand.
“Can I hug you?” he asks.
My skin heats, and I shake my head. I don’t want to make him feel bad, but I don’t know him well enough. I don’t yet know if I can trust him.
“Okay. Can we go see Dominic?” he asks.
I nod. I was waiting out here for him. I texted him the ward name this morning when I realized that might be a good idea.
In the ward I have to hold myself back because as soon as Micky sees Benjamin, he sags forward and sobs. It’s more like relief than sorrow, though. He babbles a fresh wave of “I’m sorrys,” but they’re not directed at me this time. Benjamin doesn’t say a word. Being that much bigger, he sort of smothers Micky with his hug, and they have this silent, tearful reunion. Watching them makes my heart feel both big and small at the same time.
Hawkeye eyes me closely from her seat at the nurse’s station. We don’t look like brothers
. I
don’t look like their brother. It’s kind of impossible not to notice now, I guess.
I get up and walk over to the double doors.
“Danny?” Hawkeye is standing behind me. I can see her reflection in the glass. Generally she looks pretty stern, but when she smiles her expression is full of warmth. “The doctor is coming to do her rounds in five minutes. I thought you might want to wait so you can hear what she has to say.” She tilts her head to the side, and I look down so I can no longer see her.
I glance back at Micky and Benjamin, getting their half years’ worth of missing contact.
“It’s okay. I know you’re not his brother,” she says gently. “He calls for you in his sleep.”
Micky catches my gaze, then shifts out of Benjamin’s embrace. “You okay?” he mouths, eyebrows drawn together.
I nod. I hold my hand up, fingers spread.
Back in five minutes.
I nod at Hawkeye. I’ll come back. I just need a minute. They just need a minute.
Yesterday I was scared because I didn’t know what to do. Now I think I know what to do, but I’m too scared to do it. Or at least I know what needs to happen and I’m too scared to let it.
I love him. Impossibly I think he loves me back. I’ve had that, at least. Whatever happens, nothing can ever take that away.
MICKY IS
going to die.
The doctor actually says that. Puts it in no uncertain terms that if his anorexia is not dealt with right now, his body will shut down and no amount of medicine will be able to stop it. From the tests they’ve done, it looks as though he’s suffered several small heart attacks and there is permanent damage to his heart. She lays it all out so starkly.
Micky’s fingernails dig into my hand, and I have to stroke along his arm before he lessens his grip. His grip on Benjamin’s hand doesn’t seem quite so firm.
Before the doctor leaves, she says they need to keep Micky in hospital for a few more days to monitor him, and they’ll need to see his visa and travel documents.
Benjamin has been staring straight ahead the whole time, not even looking at the doctor, but as soon as she leaves, he brings his hand up to his mouth and hunches over his knees. He doesn’t let go of Micky’s hand, though.
My stomach turns over. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything, so there is no chance of me being sick, but I feel it.
“You’re not going to die,” I say.
Micky turns his head. His eyes are so wide and blue that I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look away. When he opens his mouth, I think he’s going to say something, but instead he bites down on his bottom lip to stop it trembling.
“I didn’t mention it before… but I have a superpower you don’t know about,” I carry on.
“The one where you make everything all right, yeah?” he says weakly.
Forcing a grin on my face, I move to sit up on the bed next to Micky and put my arms around him. I no longer care about the nurses—if they want to chuck me out, they’ll have to carry me.
Benjamin hasn’t moved. He’s still all quiet and folded in on himself in the chair on the other side of Micky’s bed. I think about asking him if he’s okay.
“He’s a bit like you. Sometimes he needs a minute to come back together,” Micky says because obviously he is always going to be able to read my mind.
“What happens when they find out you don’t have a visa?”
Micky tenses and I frown, realizing it was the wrong question to ask. What I meant was
what can we do about it?
“They’ll remove him from the UK.” Benjamin lifts his head. “Dominic?”
“No.” Micky lifts his head from my shoulder and shakes his head. “I can’t go back. I can’t. Not now.”
“You don’t have a choice. The hospital won’t help you stay in England when they find out you’re not supposed to be here…. I’ll come back to America with you. We’ll go to New York. Aunt Emory’s or something. There are clinics that can help you. You could emancipate yourself, and I can get a lawyer to fight for access to your trust fund…. It’s a long shot, but I could research it,” he adds with a self-conscious shrug. “I’m good at researching stuff. You looked after me my whole life. I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”
“I left you,” Micky whispers, his eyes glassy. “I hate that I left you behind.”
“I understand why. I can look after myself now. I’m okay. I was going on tour anyway. It was you I was worried about. Every place we visited in London, I looked for you.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Danny.” Micky laces his fingers tightly with mine.
I look up at the neatly tiled ceiling, willing my tears not to spill over.
“Then Danny can come too!” Benjamin says like it’s the easiest solution in the world.
“I can’t,” I say softly.
Micky drops his chin to his chest and doesn’t look up.
“I dreamt I saw the desert with you,” I whisper. “The one you told me about. We looked at the sky.”
“It’s beautiful,” Micky whispers back. “I want to show it to you one day.”
I nod.
One day.
“When I woke up, I knew what we have to do… to make everything right… you don’t belong out there.” I flap my arm toward the window, the streets below: London, in all its grim, gray glory, the only home I’ve ever known.
“No one belongs out there, Danny.” Micky says it like the words hurt him.
“I can’t fight your sharks.”
“I don’t need you to….
Fuck
, Danny, I just need
you
….”