Endless, Forever (17 page)

Oliver felt bile in his throat, but he nodded as the ambulance doors slammed shut.  With a whine of the siren, the vehicle sped off just as a cop car arrived.  Oliver felt numb as he gave his statement, providing everything he knew, including Marky and Troy’s names.

Gabe seemed mildly concerned, but didn’t say anything much as the cop finished up with Oliver, then sent them on their way.

“Come on, let’s get a cab,” Gabe said, grabbing Oliver’s fingers.

Oliver nodded as Gabe fired up his app, and they waited on the side of the street.  Everything was threatening to hit him all at once, and he closed his eyes tight against the onslaught of panic and worry.  “Fuck,” he breathed out, harsh and sharp.  “Fuck.  He might actually die.  He could…there’s a chance…”

Gabe quieted his words with a soft embrace, pressing a kiss to the side of Oliver’s neck.  “You knew this could happen.  You’ve known it for years.  But he was breathing when they got there.  It’s going to be a rough road for him when he wakes up, but don’t start thinking about him like he’s already dead.”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Oliver let Gabe push him into the cab, and they made the drive to the hospital twenty minutes away.  Gabe paid, letting Oliver hurry into the lobby, and the nurses looked up Leo’s information.

“I’m sorry we can’t let anyone back there just yet.  He’s being worked on.”

Oliver felt his stomach twist. “Worked on.  What does that mean?  Is he…has he…?”

“He’s coded twice, but he’s stable for now.  We’ll have someone call you back as soon as he can have visitors.”

Oliver’s knees went weak, and he nearly fell.  Gabe caught him and eased him into a nearby chair.  Their hands linked, and Oliver leaned forward, his eyes tight shut.  He wondered if maybe he stayed that way, in the dark, holding his breath, not letting himself feel, maybe it would all pass.  Maybe it would all stop.

He wasn’t so naïve that he would
believe
such a thing, but for that agonizing second, he let himself hope.  When he opened his eyes, he was still there.  It hadn’t passed, and Leo was still fighting for his life.

“He can’t die.  He
can’t
.  He can’t leave me here alone like this,” Oliver muttered, his voice high and tight.  There was a bubble of hysteria building behind his ribs, and it was by sheer will alone he didn’t give into it.

Gabe’s grip on him tightened, and he yanked him so close, their foreheads crashed together.  “It’s going to be alright, Oliver.  Whatever happens, it’s going to be alright.  You’re not alone.  I’m here.”

Oliver swallowed thickly, unable to speak another word.  For the first time since they’d met, he couldn’t take comfort in Gabriel’s words.

Chapter Nineteen

Leo survived.

The first six hours had been touch and go, but by dawn, Oliver was allowed to go back and see his brother.  He was unconscious, heavily sedated, but his vitals had stabilized for the most part, and he would begin a treatment to help him detox without sending his body into shock.

“Based on the levels in his system and the marks on his arms, we can safely say your brother has been taking a significant amount for quite some time,” the doctor said, looking down at the lab results on the chart.  “Due to the nature of the overdose, he’s going to require a psych eval and likely a mandatory three-day stay in behavioral health once he’s fully conscious.”

Oliver let out a long breath.  “Yeah.  Alright.  Do you erm…need me to sign anything or…?”

“Presently no.  We have you listed as his emergency contact, along with his father?  Ren Sasaki?”

“Right,” Oliver said slowly.

“He’s been notified as well.”

Fuck
, Oliver said in his head.  He swallowed.  “Alright, thank you.  Would it be best if I stayed or…?”

“No, go home.  He won’t come around for some time, and if anything happens, we’ll call you immediately.  I don’t anticipate any problems after this.  He’ll be uncomfortable, but I don’t think he’s been using long enough to put his life in any danger from the detox.”

Oliver shook the doctor’s hand, remembering his manners somehow.  He started toward the lobby where Gabe was waiting, but just before he reached the doors, his phone began to buzz in his pocket.  He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was.

“Can we
please
not do this right now?”

“When shall we, Oliver?” Ren’s voice asked, sharp and angry.  “How long did you know this was going on?”

“About six hours, when I found him bloody overdosed on fucking heroin,” Oliver snapped.  He hit the button for the automatic doors a little too hard, and stormed past Gabe, heading outside.  “He’s a grown person.  I am not his bloody keeper.”

“I want you two back in London,” Ren said.  “Whatever your little plan was, your desire to escape…”

“My desire to escape?” Oliver all-but shouted.  “It wasn’t a desire to escape!  She tortured me, do you even realize that?  Do you know what she did?  Have you any
idea
of the physical scars I carry round from that?  Burn marks, knife wounds!  She had me exorcised and tortured for a
month
, and only when I vowed that my demons of queer buggery had been purged, did she let me go.  I took Leo so she couldn’t do it to him.  So don’t act like us leaving her was some act of rebellion.”

Ren was uncharacteristically quiet.  “I’m arranging for your brother to be put in a rehab facility in London.”

“He won’t agree,” Oliver ground out.

“Yes, he will.  Your ability to pay for the rest of your education is riding on it.  Both of you.  I’m sorting out the sale of the house, and you’ll be put up in a flat.  You and your brother will be getting proper help.  I’m not claiming I’ve ever done anything to protect you, but in this case I know what’s best.”  Ren paused for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was quiet and calm.  “Are you really going to fight me on this, Oliver?”

Letting out a breath, Oliver fumbled with the smokes in his pocket.  He saw Gabe come out, but for the moment, he ignored him.  “No,” he said after a long pause.  The truth was, he had to let Gabe go.  He had lost control over Leo, and over himself.  He’d never let himself move past what his mother had done, and it had eaten him alive from the inside out.  Now Leo was clinging to life, and Gabe was about to have his heart broken.  “No, I’m not going to fight you.”

“Good.  Your flight leaves next week.  That should give you enough time to get everything sorted out.  I’ll be there tomorrow to break the news to your brother.”

Oliver ended the call without another word.  Shoving the phone into his pocket, he lit his cigarette, then tried not to flinch when Gabe took his hand.  “He’s going to live,” he muttered after a little while.  He wanted to pull his hand away, but he was feeling selfish and just wanted a moment of comfort before he dropped the bomb.

“Alright,” Gabe said quietly.

“My father’s arranging rehab for him and…”  Oliver paused to take a few drags, and winced when Gabe’s hand moved from his fingers to his waist, pulling him close.  “It’s in London.”

“Probably best for him.  To get away from everything,” Gabe murmured.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  I know how hard you tried.  But I’m here, okay?  We can get through this together.”

Oliver bowed his head, then very carefully, stepped away.  “I can’t do this with you.  I’m…I have to…”  He cleared his throat, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it out with his shoe.  “We have to break up.”

Gabe blinked at him several times.  “
What
?”

“I don’t want to.  Fuck, I love you more than I have
ever
loved
anything
,” he said fiercely, his throat going tight against the last words he wanted to say.  “I almost cheated on you tonight.  Last night.  Whatever.”

Gabe took in a long breath and let it out.  “I know.  I saw you through the window.  But I also saw you push him away.  You did that all on your own and I think…”

“I saw you in the window,” Oliver admitted.  “If you hadn’t been there, I would have done it.  I was angry at you for being up my arse about getting better.  I’m angry at my mum for being dead so I can’t bash her face in bloody.  I’m fucking
furious
at my brother for being such a stupid shit.  And with all of that, I would have done it, in spite of how much I love you.”

Gabe swallowed thickly.  “I see.”

“I love you, but my love is toxic.  I’m no good, and no matter how many promises I make, no matter how many chances you give me, it’s not going to stop.  I’m smart enough to know that.  So…I’m sorry.  Fuck.  I am
so
sorry.”

Gabe bowed his head.  “I am too.”

To Oliver’s surprise, that was it.  Gabe turned and walked off, and against his very nature, against the fierce craving living in his bones, Oliver didn’t call him back.  He didn’t move, didn’t breathe until he couldn’t hear the echo of Gabe’s shoes on the concrete.

And only then, in the silence of the early morning, was he certain it was over.

Part II

“Life’s greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved.”

Victor Hugo

Chapter Twenty

Oliver glanced down at his phone and sighed.  He was just finishing up the last bit of his research, but it was time to get Leo from his afternoon session.  Clicking the save button, he shut his laptop and glanced around his flat.  Keys on the table and a half-finished cup of tea perched on the counter, there wasn’t much he needed to do.

Standing up, he stretched his arms high above his head, his shirt riding up, and he drew his hand down his belly.  They’d been in London now for almost a year.  Leo had put up a huge fight initially, but by the time Ren left the hospital, Leo was committed to his recovery and Oliver was packing.

He withdrew from the University, he sold most of their possessions in a massive, too-cheap yard-sale, and he wrestled with the desire to see Gabe one last time.  But in the week between Leo’s hospitalization and their flight back to the UK, he hadn’t heard from his ex.

Not that he expected to, but Oliver hadn’t anticipated how awful it would feel to lose him like that.  It was like cutting off his own limb or carving out a kidney.  He could live without it, but the pain was almost unbearable.  Every time he left the house, he felt a twisting in his gut.  He didn’t know what he’d do if he ran into Gabe, yet found himself creeping by his ex’s usual haunts.

Gabriel wasn’t anywhere to be found, though.  Even when Oliver was brave enough to go by the café and the bookshop, they were devoid of the curly-haired man.  It left him aching and sore,
wanting
, but maybe it was for the best.

No, he knew for sure it was for the best, but he was half-certain he’d never get over it.  Not properly.

When they first arrived in London, it had been tougher than he thought it would be.  It no longer felt like home.  In spite of never losing his own accent, he could hear them now on other people.  He’d grown accustomed to the funny culture of the Californians, and he missed the heady, warm smells of the Pacific Ocean.  He missed the easy smiles and casual conversation he could make with anyone he passed by.

The cold, English culture of not making eye contact and strict, polite matters left him feeling more alone than he had in so long.

Even knowing his mother was dead and buried, no longer able to hurt him, he was still afraid of the city.  Afraid of what it could turn him into, and the damage it could inflict.

But Leo was getting better.  He spent ninety days in an inpatient facility where he received medication for his withdrawals, and therapy for his addiction.  Oliver visited as often as he was allowed and really, it was the light in Leo’s eyes returning that inspired him to go ahead with his own therapy.

His father arranged for it, a therapist who specialized in treatment of adults who were dealing with traumatic childhoods. 
It won’t matter now
, he told himself. 
She’s dead, it won’t be a scandal
, he repeated over and over,
and she can’t hurt you anymore
.

It hadn’t been easy.  He was angry at first, and his instinct to shut himself off—to pretend it hadn’t hurt him—kicked in.  But several weeks in and the anger turned into pain, which was something he could work through.  It distracted him from missing Gabe, and it allowed him to work past the trauma it caused.

He’d never be cured, he realized.  He would never be a person who hadn’t been tortured and abused, but he could stop letting it control his life.  He could stop being afraid of people getting close to him.

When Leo was finally released, the brothers used the money from their mother’s flat sale to get their own in Hampstead.  It was a nice place, small but cozy, close to shops and to the University campus.  They started off slow, of course.  Oliver only had one term of lectures left before his dissertation was due. Leo was only a year away from finishing his bachelors, and with the end goals in sight, they both suddenly felt like productive people.

Like they were finally able to move on with their lives.

Oliver got a job working for an online publication, had been doing well enough there for the past six months and, to his great surprise, started dating.  It was the moment he realized he was moving on, that he was letting himself.  He had entertained ideas of running back to the States, to find Gabriel and have a profound moment.  The slow run across the beach.  Sailing off into the sunset.

It was when Sam’s eyes met his and Oliver found himself saying yes to the invite out for a drink that he realized there would never be his cliché happy ending.

Six months later, he realized he could probably be happy with that.

Maybe not with Sam, maybe their relationship wasn’t forever, but Oliver needed that moment to let everything in his past go.

Pulling up to the curb, Oliver sent Leo a text and a moment later, his brother breezed out of the building.  He looked much better than he ever had, putting on several pounds making Oliver realize just how skinny and sickly he’d always looked.  He was wearing a long black skirt and AC/DC t-shirt, his hair still clipped short, though the top was longer, falling elegantly over one eye.  He had a smear of pink lipstick across his mouth, and his white teeth shone with a smile when he spotted Oliver waiting.

“Been here long?” Leo asked, climbing in and slamming the door.

Oliver shook his head as he turned into the impossibly slow London traffic.  “Nah.  Just pulled up.  How did everything go?”

“Good,” Leo said.  “I think they’re going to let me intern at the end of this term, which would be brilliant.”  He leaned back in his seat, looking out at the low clouds.  “Funny how people with issues like ours go into therapy, innit?”

Oliver snorted.  “Who better to coach you through problems than someone who’s actually been there, right?”

Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  “Don’t you wonder how many of them actually have their shit together, though?  I certainly haven’t been well long enough to feel qualified to tell people how to manage their lives.”

Oliver shrugged, pulling behind a row of cars, and sighed at the long wait.  “I guess.  I just think it’s easier to sort out other people’s problems than your own.  I mean think about it, you’ve got the outside perspective with the inside experience.  I think you’re going to be brilliant.”

This time Leo’s smile reached his eyes, making them bright and happy.  It had been so long since Oliver had seen his brother like this, and though it had been a year now, he never got tired of knowing they had made it this far.  They were getting better.

“So, date tonight?”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver sighed, but the corners of his mouth quirked up.  “Yeah.  Sam wants to try this new posh place up in Chelsea.  Haven’t been that way since mum, but he’s got his heart set on it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Leo assured him.

Oliver licked his lips, nodding.  “I know.  It just never gets easier to think about her.  Even the last days of therapy, saying her name felt like razor blades in my mouth.  The anger doesn’t go away.”

“No, and you know it won’t,” Leo said.  “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her.  But just don’t let it control you.”

“Thank you Doctor-Therapist Leo,” Oliver said, grinning playfully.  “Really though, I feel alright about it.  And after all my sodding research today, I could do with a pint and something really decadent.”

“Bring me cake,” Leo said.  “I’ll be at home revising.  I
need
cake.”

“Alright,” Oliver said with a snort, and managed to get out of the massive line of cars, and turn down their street.  He found alright parking, and before long, the brothers were heading up to their flat so Oliver could get ready for the night.

Sam had promised to be there a little early, so Oliver hopped in the shower, putting a french braid in his hair down his back before rummaging through his wardrobe.  He went semi-formal, black slacks, a button down white shirt, but no tie.  He rolled the sleeves to his forearms, then quickly scrubbed his teeth, and went on a hunt for his shoes.

Just as he was struggling into his socks, there was a knock on his bedroom door and he looked up to see his boyfriend leaning on the door frame.  Sam didn’t have the unassuming beauty Gabriel had.  He was more striking, sharp features, and a shock of reddish blonde hair.  He had wide, green eyes, and a dimple in each cheek which Oliver found endearing.

He really did like him.  He had a good sense of humor, a decent personality, and when Oliver had come clean about his past, Sam hadn’t judged him.  He was quick to notice when Oliver was having an off day, or when he was feeling overwhelmed, and even quicker to offer a cup of tea, or even just silence in the room.

Oliver knew the relationship would go far if he let it.  The only problem was, he constantly found himself comparing every little thing Sam did to Gabriel.  And he knew how unfair it was.  Sam knew a little about Oliver’s first and tragic relationship.  He knew Oliver still carried a small torch for the one that got away, and he didn’t seem to mind much.  Oliver assumed Sam was waiting for the years to tame his feelings for his lost love—but Oliver doubted anyone would ever measure up to the man Gabriel had been to him.

It was why at least three times a week, he considered splitting.  Why half the time, the words, “We should break up,” danced on the tip of his tongue.

But before he ever got them out, Sam would do something sweet or endearing.  He’d bring Oliver his favorite pastry, or a book he thought Oliver might like.  He’d pick him up a woolly pair of socks, or take him for a tea all the way in Surrey at a new, trendy café, and Oliver would lose his nerve.

Sam deserved better, but for now, they were happy.

“Hey, cariad,” Sam said, his deep voice and Welsh lilt booming through the quiet room.  “How was your research today?”

“Horrid,” Oliver said with a small pout.  He rose, holding his arms out for his boyfriend.

Sam chuckled as he pulled Oliver close to him.  “Will a kiss make it better?”

“No,” Oliver said, and turned his face up.  “But it’s a decent start.”

“Hmm,” Sam replied, his eyebrow raised, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.  He bent his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Oliver’s mouth.  “Well how’s that for a start?”

“I think you could do better.”

Sam let out a small snort.  “Always the critic.  So hard to please.”  He turned his face and gave Oliver a proper kiss, making the other man hum with pleasure.

Oliver ran his palms up Sam’s broad arms, resting on his shoulders.  “Much better.  I think the next thing I need is a good pint, and some decadent chocolate.”

“Proper food first, and then the chocolate,” Sam warned.

“You are the least fun,” Oliver whined, but smiled as he went back to the bed to finish with his shoes.  “How was your day, love?”

“It was alright.  Joanne,” he said, referring to their Editor in Chief, “has been riding my arse like she owns it about this bloody Gentlemen’s Club article.  Seems to think that I’d have some idea what men actually get out of these things.”

“Did you tell her you’ve been a raging poufter since sixth form?” Oliver asked with a sly grin.

Sam rolled his eyes, tugging Oliver by the hand into the living room.  “She’s known for ages.  At least since she caught us snogging in the supply cupboard and I had to give her my whole, sordid history of blowing computer nerds in comprehensive.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.  “Well just fake it then, yeah?  Or hire someone to ghostwrite it.  I doubt she’d notice a difference.”

“This would be the one time she does, just watch.”  Sam let out a sigh as he dropped into the arm chair.  He glanced at his watch, then out the window at the darkening sky.  “I don’t fancy being sacked because I hired some hetero perv to talk about why he likes watching women shake their bits and tits.”

“I feel like that’s super sexist, but I’m not really sure,” Oliver said with a hum

“Oh, it is,” came Leo’s voice from the hall.  He walked into the room, giving a little salute to Sam as he went for the kitchen.  Oliver heard him flick on the kettle, and he came back a moment later.  “You could ask Coco when she comes in on holiday.  Only I think if you say bits and tits to her face, you’d lose the bits you’ve got.”

Oliver snickered as his brother went for the sofa, laying lengthwise across it.  “When’s her flight in?”

“Tuesday,” Leo said with a wave of his hand.  “She’s proper Spanish now, you know.  Job and everything, looking at becoming a citizen.”

“This is that mate from California, yeah?” Sam asked.

Oliver nodded as he dropped on to the arm of the chair, and grinned when Sam’s arm came around his waist.  “You’ll like her.  She’s our raging-ace queen.”

“Raging ace?”

“Asexual,” Leo said mildly.  “She’s the one who found that trans group I joined up there.”  What left hung in the air was that it was the group who helped Leo get addicted to heroin and sent his life spiraling, but Oliver and Leo both avoided that topic with Sam—or anyone who didn’t know them intimately.  “She’s fun though, you’ll like her.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting some of the people who knew you when you were American,” Sam said, which earned him a playful smack to the shoulder.  He glanced at his watch again, then tightened his hold on Oliver’s waist.  “We ought to get going.  You know the traffic is going to be murder, and they’ll only hold our table for so long.”