Something Like Lightning (23 page)

Kelly glanced down at himself, wondering at first if this was all some cruel joke, because covered in blankets, everything looked normal. Except at the very end of the bed, where there should be two little mountains formed by his feet, he saw only one. But there was a reason why. He could feel that leg dangling over the edge, or through the mattress, or whatever.

He didn’t hesitate. He pulled back the blankets, wanting to see the truth. A hospital robe and a tube sticking out near his crotch. The discomfort of that was overshadowed by his struggle to get the sheets off completely. He could see both thighs. That was fine. Maybe he had only lost a foot or—

“Honey, try to relax.”

“I want to see,” Kelly said, getting worked up. “Just help me! Please!”

His mother eyed him a moment. Then she moved to the end of the bed and helped pull down the sheets the rest of the way. Where Kelly’s right knee should be was a bundle of bandages. Beyond it, nothing.

Kelly pushed the button on the remote control, over and over again. On the television screen, the picture changed every two seconds. He didn’t really see the images, didn’t care when his brother complained or his father asked if he needed anything. He simply stared unseeing at the television mounted on the hospital wall, because it was the only thing he had power over.

He was used to fighting. Kelly could do anything if he put his mind to it. Determination, hard work, and above all, no compromises. When he decided that victory was the only acceptable outcome, he made it happen. Grades, relationships, his athletic career—everything was within grasp as long as he tried his best. His mind kept telling him now that he should fight, that he should do anything and everything to fix this. And yet there was nothing to be done. His leg was gone, leaving him helpless. Powerless. Crippled.

“Kelly,” his father said, placing a hand over his. And the remote. “Let’s just leave it off. For now.”

Kelly changed the channel a few more times. Then he shut off the TV and glanced around. He hated this room, hated the hospital. He wanted out of here. Now. But even if he threw a fit and hopped out of bed, he couldn’t walk out of the room and run down the hall. He couldn’t go anywhere anymore. Not without help. Speaking of which, his back was killing him. He wanted to roll over onto his side, but even that was difficult. His physical therapist was teaching him how to move again. Half a leg gone, and his balance was thrown completely off. Even the smallest task now took herculean effort. Still, at least the catheter was gone. What happened in the restroom was now private again.

He reached for the television remote, missing his cell phone. Another casualty of the wreck. No right leg, no phone, and no... Kelly swallowed. Over the past few days, the details had come back to him, and the words leading up to it. He didn’t know where William was. That he had already been discharged from the hospital was all his mother would say. Then she would start rambling on about legal action, which seemed ridiculous to Kelly. William didn’t have any money. What would they take from him as compensation? His toys? Kelly tried talking sense into her, but the mere mention of William’s name caused her mouth to tighten and her eyes to narrow.

Sort of like the face she was wearing now. Laisha walked into the room, appearing flustered. “Honey, you’re not in the mood for visitors, are you? I didn’t think so. I told him that you needed—”

“Who?” Kelly asked, trying to sit upright. “Tell me.”

His mother shook her head. “I bumped into William downstairs. He was asking the reception desk for your room number, but you’re in no condition for visitors.”

Kelly gestured to them. “You guys aren’t visitors? Is he coming up here?”

“I told him you didn’t want to see him.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t tell me you want to! After what he did?”

A soft series of raps interrupted them, four heads turning at once to the figure in the doorway. William stood there, withering under their gazes. He had a bandage across his forehead, and one of his cheeks was dark with bruising, but aside from that he looked okay.

“How’d you get here?” Royal said with venom. “Don’t tell me you drove.”

“I took my bike,” William said sheepishly.

“They shouldn’t even allow that,” Royal spat. “They should cut off your legs so you’ll never drive, bike, or walk again. See how you like it!”

Kelly waited for his little brother to be reprimanded, but his parents seemed content to sit and give William the evil eye. Kelly sighed. “I’d like to be alone,” he said.

His mother looked vindicated. “I told you he wouldn’t want visitors.”

“I mean,” Kelly said, fighting against the drugs in his system to muster some anger, “that I want to be alone with William. We need to talk.”

“Son—” his father began.

“Now!” Kelly snapped, and it felt good. For the first time since he’d woken up completely, he didn’t feel helpless. Not entirely. He watched with satisfaction as his family shuffled out of the room. It also gave him something to focus on besides William, because Kelly was scared he was about to be hurt all over again.

As soon as they were gone, William came and stood at his bedside. His eyes kept flicking down to where Kelly’s leg was—or where it should have been. Then his face crumpled and he started crying.

“I’m sorry,” William sobbed. “I wish I could undo it all. I wish I could give you your leg back and make everything okay somehow, but I fucked up. I ruined everything, and I don’t know how to make it right.”

Kelly watched as he cried, almost feeling bemused when William’s grief brought him to his knees at his bedside. Maybe it was the drugs numbing Kelly and preventing him from crying too. He wasn’t entirely indifferent though, because it felt good to see William again. That he was here and still cared... For this one small moment, Kelly could pretend they would make amends.

But that wasn’t reality. William wouldn’t want him anymore. Nobody would. Kelly was a cripple. A wheelchair awaited him, followed by crutches once his wounds had healed enough. Eventually he might get a prosthetic leg, but this would only obscure the truth. Even if he looked normal to the casual observer, in any relationship a time would come when the clothes came off. He couldn’t expect anyone to find him attractive then. Not when they saw his stump. This was a fact he had already accepted, and not even the drugs could stave off the resulting sorrow.

“I just hope you still want me.”

The words could have been Kelly’s, but they weren’t. He didn’t hide his puzzlement as William reached out and took his hand, but he did force the hope rising inside of him back down. “What?” he managed.

“I did it on purpose, Kelly. In the car. I got so mad at you and I—” William’s voice faltered, ending with a croak.

Kelly’s emotions pulled back defensively. “What do you mean on purpose?”

“I jerked the wheel,” William said. “I meant for us to pull over, but I also wanted to scare you, so I jerked the wheel and hit the breaks. With the rain and everything I didn’t realize— I never wanted us to get in an accident. But I did want to—”

“—shut me up,” Kelly said. “Apparently it takes more than a car wreck to do that.”

William didn’t laugh. He only seemed more miserable. “I didn’t know this would happen. I never meant to hurt you. If I could take it all back or give you my leg or anything, I would. I swear! ”

“I know that,” Kelly said, placing a hand on his head and stroking his hair. Maybe it was the morphine or perhaps it was a testament to love, but he didn’t hold the accident against William. Even in their darkest moments together, Kelly had never felt that William wanted to physically harm him. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“I’m going to keep my promise,” William said, clenching his jaw.

“What promise?”

“In the ICU,” William said. “After the accident. You don’t remember?”

Kelly looked into eyes hard with determination and shook his head.

“You kept reaching for me. You kept asking me to stay with you.”

Now Kelly’s chest grew tight. “And what did you say?”

“I promised.” William steeled himself. “I’ll never leave you, Kelly. Not if you still want me.”

Now Kelly cried, but they were tears of relief. He used all his strength to tug on William’s hand until he stood and leaned over the bed. Then Kelly wrapped both arms around him, pulling their bodies close. Cheeks wet, he nestled his head against William’s neck, breathed in his scent, and murmured his own promise.

“Of course I still want you. I always will.”

Part Two: 

Austin, 2008
 

I am the butcher of the wind. My arms cut through it, increasing my speed. I can feel the air coursing over me, see it in my mind’s eye as silvery airstreams flowing around every curve, every flexing muscle. I am the very essence of speed, and still it isn’t enough for me. My shoes hit the earth over and over again, like a giant spinning the globe beneath his feet. I am running, and I am untouchable.

Kelly awoke with a start, arriving in a world almost as surreal as the one he’d just left. He was in the downstairs master bedroom, except the heavy oak dressers and widescreen television belonging to his parents had been taken away, replaced by his desk and computer. The sleeping form next to him wasn’t his father—thank goodness—but William. The nightstand once typically held a portable Nintendo or a classic car magazine, but now a red helicopter robot stood guard over a pair of swimming goggles.

Married life at seventeen. Who would have thought?

Kelly lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, willing the dream to continue so he could bask in the sensation of movement again. He wouldn’t have to pretend for long. Today was the day. Might as well get up and get ready, especially considering how long it took. Besides, he really had to pee, and he couldn’t exactly rush to the toilet. Kelly rolled over and sat up with little effort, reaching for the forearm crutches leaning against the wall.

This was enough to wake William. “Need help?” he asked blearily.

“Nope.” It was the same question every morning and the same answer, but he loved William for still caring after three whole months of this. If the roles were reversed, Kelly would have covered his head with a pillow and let poor William drag himself to the bathroom. Getting his crutches into position, he pushed himself up, barely swaying as he found his balance. He was improving, not that it would matter soon.

He hurried to the bathroom attached to the master bedroom, which was now his. Kelly’s parents had made this sacrifice so he wouldn’t have to deal with stairs. On mornings like these, when his bladder felt ready to burst, he also appreciated the nearness of the bathroom. Sleeping naked meant not having to fiddle with pajama bottoms. As soon as Kelly reached the toilet, all he had to do was turn around, carefully lower himself down while counterbalancing, and take a small leap of faith. He plopped down on the toilet seat and sighed. Oh how he missed the days when all he had to do was whip it out and point!

Once finished, he struggled to stand again, ignoring the bar his father had installed on the wall. Then he stared at the shower, debating how he was going to proceed today. Sometimes he took his crutches in with him, just because it made him feel slightly more normal to be standing. When it came time to soap up, he was forced to use the special flip-down seat. He despised this. Who took a shower sitting down? Glaring at the bathtub in general, he turned to the medicine cabinet, opened it, and grabbed his bottle of painkillers. Then he remembered it was empty. He’d been cut off two days ago. Kelly had agreed at the time, and while he wasn’t hurting physically, he now felt emotionally vulnerable. He opened the bottle, just on the off chance one lonely pill sat forgotten at the bottom. There wasn’t one, of course, but he did notice the film of powder that lined the inside. He was considering licking it when William padded through the door.

“You okay?” he yawned. Instead of waiting for an answer, he made use of the toilet.

Kelly glanced over at him, taking note of his body, the curve of his shoulders, the impressive pecs, and the little glimpse of his cock that could be seen past his hip. Being off the painkillers might make him feel raw inside, but it also brought back his sexual appetite. Not that their love life had died completely. Over the summer, Kelly would long to be close to William or worry about meeting his needs. On such occasions, he would make the effort, despite being too numb to enjoy himself much. Now his craving for sex had returned like a hungry demon, his skin tingling at the idea.

He turned and leaned against the counter, leaving his naked body in full view, including his erection. This didn’t go unnoticed.

William glanced over at him and smirked. “Want to hop in the shower together?”

“I wish.” Kelly glanced back at the plastic seat and frowned. “I swear, as soon as the prosthetic leg goes on, I’m never taking it off and I’m never sitting again.”

William followed his gaze. “You don’t like sitting in the shower? It’s so convenient.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve been using my cripple seat?”

“Don’t call it that.” William repressed a smile. “And yes. I do like it. Hell, I was thinking about installing a waterproof couch in there.”

“You’re so lazy.”

“Maybe. You still haven’t answered my question. Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“Who gets the seat?”

“Neither of us,” William said. “Come on. I’ll hold you.”

Kelly hesitated. The offer sounded appealing, but he wasn’t entirely nude. Not exactly. He still had on his shrinker sock—tight fabric that helped compress his stump, keeping the swelling down to ensure that what remained was a manageable size for his prosthesis. While he didn’t need to wear it when he slept, he did so anyway. Anything to make sure that today went smoothly. He wanted his new leg to fit perfectly, returning him to the mobility he’d once cherished. And of course the sock hid his amputation. Kelly didn’t like anyone to see it. He wasn’t ashamed exactly, but for William especially, he worried about sex appeal. So Kelly normally had it covered, something that would be impossible in the shower.