Heart to heart
"Hey"
"Hey, Denny? How are you feeling?" Alan lightly ran his hand up and down Dennys arm, not sure if he did it to calm his friend or himself.
"Ok, I guess." He fully turned his head to look at Alan, taking in the white pallor and the unmistakable tearstreaks on his face that told a story of anguish and grieve and a night spent in an uncomfortable hospital chair. Damn. What happened? His head reeled as he tried to review the events that lead to this.
They had just left the firms christmas party and retired to the balcony when it started. Denny had felt dizzy, but the dizziness left when he sat down. The lightheaded feeling stayed, though – but after all, they had just been in a crowded room and he had been drinking. Not heavily, and not nearly enough to cause the dizziness, but all the symptoms had been easy to explain away, especially since he and Alan had a captivating conversation going. He should have recognized the cramps, of course. But they were there when he was laughing on one of Alans quotes and, well – he was enjoying himself and was thinking about everything else but that he might be on the verge of blacking out. He remembered Alans voice growing more and more distant, then being replaced by a roaring sound in his ears while Alans panicked face hovered in front of him – very much as it did now.
Denny looked up into a pair of concerned eyes.
"How long have I been sleeping?"
"An hour after the doctor looked you over. You were in and out of it for a while."
Denny grunted in consent. He remembered… someone… Alan?…holding his hand and telling him to go back to sleep. Had he imagined a kiss on the forehead….? Denny looked sharply at the younger man, causing Alan to look down.
"How much do you remember?"
"I remember telling you that I don´t need a hospital. Several times."
Alans jaw set. "You lost consciousness. Twice. Scared the hell out of me. Your face was-" he hesitated as the awful sight of Denny falling to the ground, face white and sweaty, resurfaced. "White as a corpse?" Denny chimed in helpfully, grinning a bit. Alan glared at him. "I was going to say ´white as a sheet´, but thank you very much for not taking this seriously!"
"I told you that it was nothing serious, but you decided, over my head, that I might be dying, then you tricked me to get into your car and drove me here!"
Alan stared at him. True, as much as the whole scene of Denny loosing consciousnous had shocked him, he came to only a few seconds later, telling Alan to put his feet up for a while to get the bloodflow back to normal. Alan had complied and Denny had seemed fine, but had then probably gotton up too quickly, causing him to nearly black out a second time. After that, Alan decided to get him to a hospital.
"Better safe than sorry! You look much better now."
"You, on the other hand, look like shit, though. Go home. Get some sleep."
Alan only shook his head, not trusting his voice yet.
"I am fine. I´ll stay till they let you go."
"And when will that be? Did they say yet?"
Alan sat down in his chair again, one elbow on the bed, facing Denny. "I think we should take it slow."
The truth was: it was christmas time, and the hospital was crowded. Denny had been checked and the doctor had assured Alan that the blackout was caused by dehydration, and that his friend was in good health. Well, there was nothing to be said against a diet and cuttung down on red meat and smoking, but all in all, for a man of his age, Denny Crane was certified "fit". The doctor prescribed rest and then hurried away to the next patient. It would probably be a while until someone would look for them again.
" I can always sign myself out if I wanted to. I am not a damn invalid!" Denny insisted.
"And I don´t need anybody to take care of me, you know" But his words lacked the sharpness. It was hard to get angry at Alan when his friend looked at him like he did now. It was that Alan-look he sometimes got during their balcony time. A mixture of amusement, admiration, love and wonder, all directed at him. And Denny Crane, who prided himself with needing no one, had found himself craving that look. He would go lengh to make Alan Shore happy. To keep him by his side. Still, he was Denny Crane and therefore needed to preserve at least a little bit of decorum. He had let Alan into his world, into his house, even his bed – only to guard him from nightterrors, of course – but the truth was: Alan was everywhere. And now he was here at the hospital with him, still looking concerned. Denny sighed. He hated hospitals, always had.
"Alan, I want to get out of here. If I stay in this bed a minute longer something really might happen to me – I might die of boredom!"
With that, Denny Crane flunged his legs on the floor. Ten minutes later he was in the elevator, then heading for the taxi stand, Alan on his heels.
"Denny, I think we should slow down a little bit here."
"Denny Crane doesn´t slow down. Now get in the car, Alan, or close the door!"
Twenty minutes later, both men entered Dennys office at Crane Poole & Schmidt. Denny prepared two glasses of scotch, fetched two cigars and went outside, enjoying the crisp but clear air.
It took a few moments till Denny realized that Alan had not followed him outside. "What is it now?" he asked, both of their scotch glasses in hand. Alan looked at him with a frown. "I don´t like this balcony any more. Do you think we could get another one?"
"Another balcony?"
"Yes. You could move your office into another room and then we would have another balcony. Yes. We should just do that." Alan reasoned to himself, nodding at his conclusion.
Denny grunted. "You´re a nutcase! Stop being rediculous and get over here."
"I can not have a conversation with you in the very same place where you…youknow."
"I was just dehydrated!" "I did not know that at the time. And I don´t want to be reminded while I have my balcony time. Your name is on the door, remember? You are entitled to do all kinds of crazy stuff – why not change balconies for me? We could get Shirleys, she would not mind!" Denny stared at him. "I have thirty plus years on you, Alan Shore. I certainly die before you do and we talk about my termination all the time!"
"You talk about it all the time – you are obsessed with dying – that´s probably why you love guns so much as well!" "Now don´t go psycho-analyzing me here – and for gods sake, Alan – get your ass out here! I am no longer talking to you over a five feet distance!"
Alan smiled and stepped over to his friend, accepting the glas of scotch from him.
Denny shook his head and looked at him."You are one crazy son of a bitch, Shore"
"That´s why you love me." Alan stated, not expecting an answer to that from his friend. They enjoyed their drinks in silence for a while, both following their own train of thought. Alans brought him back to the day he first met Denny Crane and to their first night out here, on their shared refuge from the world.
"Remember how things were in the beginning?" Alan asked. "My first week at Crane, Poole and Schmidt? I asked if you were scared and you said you had nothing to be scared of ´cause you did not live for tomorrow?"
"Hmpf. That was ages ago. Haven´t thought about it again. Probably never thought about it to begin with."
"Well, I have thought about it, and what I have established are two things, and I want you to hear me out without interrupting, because I don´t want to say it again."
Denny nodded expectantly, eyebrows high up in mock curiosity.
"The first thing is that I know you do not want to be alone when you die, and I promise you I will be there. To shoot you, pull your plug or do what ever else is a crazy enough means for Denny Crane to go."
He swallowed hard and started pacing as he continued.
"The second thing is this: Denny, I do need you to live for tomorrow. I am … terrified … that, with all your talking of and planning for the eventualities of your death, you will not fight hard enough for your life when it comes. I need you to fight. I need you to…stay with me as long as you can."
The words hung in the air as Alan waited for Denny to answer. When there was none forthcoming, he stepped over to where Denny was standing on the balcony wall and leaned into the older mans face.
"Hey, Denny, you´re still with me?"
"Seems I will never be without you again" Denny answered in a soft voice, eyes shining, as he turned around to face Alan.
It may have been the wrong thing to say, he realized. Denny saw Alan biting his lower lip, trying to stop his eyes from overflowing. One step and he was standing in front of him. Denny swallowed.
"You know I hate sentiment."
Alan smiled as the tears started to fall. "Just the same" he said softly, and embraced the older man, not letting go for a long time.