Of a Dying Hope...
Daniel Cain sighed and rubbed a tired, aching hand along the back of his neck, wincing as it cracked slightly. Three hours straight in emergency surgery had drained the young student both mentally and physically, and Dan couldn't help but look back on the day as a total waste of time. That poor girl... She'd been doomed as soon as she was wheeled through those doors, so still and lifeless, full of respitory tubes and wires, a huge, gaping wound pumping blood from her stomach. He remembered the pity, the frustration and anger he felt at the fragility of the human body, how easy it was for a life to be so brutally taken away. She must have been no more than sixteen, such a tiny-looking thing, her petite hands hanging limply from the guerney she was carried on, her skin so pale and sickly. He had fought to save that girl, fought so hard... Every second, the clock ticked closer to her death. He knew, but he didn't give up. Even when the others told him it was over, that she was gone, he didn't give up, thrusting his hands onto her heart, willing the life back into her... But all in vain. The green medical blanket was pulled up over her head, her face still and serene, as if she were sleeping. So peacefully... He wheeled her to the morgue, through those doors he hated and loathed so much... The room stank of death, full of corpses, people, who's only purpose now was to be butchered by clumsy medical students. He shoved the guerney into a corner and ran from the room, his face covered with his arms.
"Dan? Are you...?" a voice asked worredly, but he hurried quickly past, unable to speak. He just needed to get away. And now he sat, exhausted, on a rickety bench in the male locker room, his whole body trembling with the ordeal. He should be used to losing patients by now, it happened often, yet every time it just seemed to get harder and harder... pull yourself together...he thought to himself, we have to go... Jerking himself out of his stupour, he pulled his belongings from his locker, put on his brown leather jacket over his loose, sweat covered hospital smock and left for home.
It was only a fifteen minute walk to his apartment on Darkmore St., but tonight was a cold, frosty night in October, and he really didn't appreciate walking in this weather. He pulled up his collar against the icy wind and quickened his pace. Jeez, it's freezing...not far, now... He reached the apartment quickly, almost running the last few paces. He shut the door behind him, and collapsed on the cream two-seater sofa in the corner, reaching out his hand to switch on the table lamp beside him. Hmmm... that's funny, I thought Herbert was home... he thought to himself, why are all the lights off? He dismissed the idea quickly; Herbert never spent much time out of either his room or the basement where his makeshift laboratory was, why should he feel the need to switch on every light in the place? He sat and stared into space for a while, before deciding he was hungry. He threw together some cheap supermarket noodles, not really tasting them as they slipped blandly down his throat. After tossing the bowl in the already full basin, he leaned back on the dining chair, rubbing strong hands through his slightly grease-streaked hair, desparately trying not to relive the days events in his head. I just want to forget... I have to do something, take my mind off it... He stalked into his room, removing his coat and throwing it absent-mindedly into a corner,and replacing his dirty hospital clothes with his old comfortable jeans and dark grey sweater. It was late, he noticed, the three hours overtime meant it was almost ten o'clock by this stage. I'm not in tomorrow, so I may as well stay up and get some studying done, make myself useful... He grabbed his medical encyclopedia and textbooks, spread them out on his desk and began taking notes. He continued this for hours, taking him well past midnight, until his tired brown eyes strained against the tiny printed paragraphs, reading sentences over and over, the letters not making sense as words anymore. He finally decided to quit for the night...morning..., but as he closed his books, a peculiar thought crossed his mind... I haven't heard a peep out of Herbert... He scratched his head, frowning; he'd usually heard something by now; bangs and crashes, the explosion of a failed chemical experiment, the pained bestial screech of a test subject, that sort of thing. But the house was completely silent, too silent... Dan cautiously made his way out of his room and hovered in front of Herbert's room, putting his ear against the door. Nothing.
"Umm...Herbert?" He called, loudly. Had he just fallen asleep? Although it didn't happen often, Dan had caught him napping once or twice, head on his desk, mouth agape. They'd been sharing this apartment for about a month now, but Dan still felt awkward going into Herbert's room, never sure of how his young flatmate would react. He was such an oddball... So private and reserved, their conversations never going beyond what they had to discuss for the... work... they did together on occassion, the work Dan grudgingly helped him with, through his own fascination with the amazing discoveries Herbert had shared with him... Yet he still felt repulsed by the nature of the disturbing experiments Herbert undertook... the unnatural way in which he was working to conquer death itself...
"Herbert!" Dan called again, more urgently. No answer. Carefully, he pushed open the door slightly and peered cautiously round the corner. The room was empty, apart from a collection of assorted medicine bottles, a small bed with an uncreased grey cover, a desk covered with papers and text books and a small fridge in the corner. Dan stared around, confused. It's 2.30 in the morning... He can't be still working? He turned away from Herbert's room and tilted his head slowly towards the basement door... Maybe he isn't even in... but where else would he be? It's his day off, and he never goes anywhere but school or here... He gently pushed on the basement door, but it was locked shut. Dan frowned; What was going on here? This door was never locked unless anybody was ever visiting, which usually meant Meg... Who hadn't been near this place in weeks...He's not locked the door while they were alone since that night, where Dan found exactly what Herbert was up to down there... He pushed a little harder, before ramming his shoulder forcefully against the door, crippling the already weakened framework and shoving the splintering door open with a bang. Dan marched unevenly down the stairs, cursing as his shoulder throbbed from the impact.
"Herbert, whats going on down..." He trailed off. There he was, sat at his large desk in the far corner, facing away from him. His head was down, his arms out in front of him, and there was an eerie quiet which filled the basement. Dan approached slowly, The goddamn idiot fell asleep down here... He reached him, and gently put a hand on his shoulder to shake him, peering round at the man's face... and he froze. Herbert's head was on the desk, tilted sideways, his dark green eyes glassy and glazed. His glasses had fallen away from his nose, leaving his pale face vulnerable and childlike. A thin trickle of blood had slid down from his nose, over his slightly parted lips, leaving a crusty trail. His glossy brown-black hair showed signs of finger-running, and the fringe looked wet with sweat from the brow. His left shirt sleeve was rolled up to the elbow, the delicate blue veins raised to the surface of his inner arm, and the soft skin near the inside elbow joint was pockmarked with purplish bruises and red welts... And, held loosely in his right hand, an empty injecting needle...
Oh hell... Oh HELL...Dan looked in horror back and forth between Herbert's vacant face and the empty needle, stained on the inside with dregs of a faintly glowing, bright green substance. He immediately put a trembling finger to the man's neck, feeling for any sign of a pulse... The smooth skin was still warm, but there was nothing... He leaned over and checked for any breath from his mouth, but again, nothing... He gasped and choked on a sob.. Jesus Christ... he's killed himself... The fucking idiot OD'd on that shit...!! Dan backed away, letting go of Herbert's shoulder, causing the body to slump a little to the side. Why? Why the hell would he do this...! Was it an accident? What am I supposed to do? He put his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, as though his head would burst. Come on, you have to do something... He... can't stay there... Pushing his shock and grief to the back of his mind, and wiping confused tears from his eyes, he stepped forward to where Herbert's body slumped, motionless. Slipping his arms behind Herbert's shoulders and under his knees, he awkwardly picked him up, the slender doctor's slight form easy to lift. He straightened up, Herbert's head lolling sideways onto Dan's chest, his left arm over Dan's shoulder, the other hanging limply in the air. As Dan went to move, the empty needle slipped from Herbert's gossamer grip, falling and shattering onto the floor. The shock made Dan gasp and stumble a little, and for a split second, he was sure he saw Herbert's face twitch... He studied the small features closely, but there was no sign of life anymore on his face. It was nothing... just your imagination... He's dead, and you know it.
Dan carried him up the basement stairs to the sitting room, and laid him gently on the sofa, laying his arms by his sides. Herbert's distant eyes bothered him, dim and subdued as if covered by a misty veil. Dan tried to ease them shut, but they were rigid, the lids and lashes damp... The crusty trail of blood still lay dried over his lip, and Dan fetched some tissue from the bathroom and wiped it away, leaving his face less death-ridden and slightly more at ease. Dan took a deep, shuddering breath and slid slowly to the floor, clutching the edge of the sofa with both hands. He stared up at the lifeless body, almost admiring the peaceful, limp posture of his figure, yet pitying how vulnerable and powerless Herbert looked in death. He looked so much younger without his academic glasses, and Dan took time to admire the shape of his face in profile; the graceful curve of his upturned nose, and the moody pout his delicate lips still possessed even in death... No... He looked away. Why are you just tormenting yourself? He's gone, now... He'll never know...
For the hours after he found Herbert's body, Dan felt nothing... He sat next to that body, staring at the floor, feeling an emptiness and void he had never thought possible. When Meg had left for the last time, swearing never to set foot near him or the apartment again until Herbert West was out of their lives, he had felt so torn... so broken... It should have been an easy choice: your flatmate, or your fiance. The woman you loved, cherished and wanted to keep safe. Instead, when she had given him that terrible ultimatum, he had faltered... He knew what he should choose, where he should go with his life, and yet he hadn't. He stood there, and faltered... faltered... She left there and then, so disgusted, so hurt... But he didn't follow. And he knew why... He looked up and the still body of Herbert West, and he knew why... had he.... maybe..... loved him?
Dan figured he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, light was streaming in through the windows, glaring from the panes into his half-opened eyes. As he sighed and stretched slightly, everything hit him all over again, and he moaned with painful realisation. He stared at the carpet for a few seconds before slowly lifting his head to look at the sofa above him... And he was there, still as ever, like a graveside statue. Dan's face creased with dismay as he rose and leant over the body, lightly touching his paltry face. He closed his eyes and lowered his head onto Herbert's chest, over his heart, with lay as still as the rest of him. He reached and closed his fingers around Herbert's hand, tracing the sinews and tight bone structure, wishing it hadn't had to end like this... But a strange thought struck him, which confused him...; the skin is still warm... How is this possible? Dan looked down at his wristwatch, which read 9.34AM... He's been dead for hours now, he should be stone cold...! Dan's head jerked upwards, and he put both hands onto Herbert's face,.. Jesus, he's still warm... He's still warm! What's going on? Although Herbert's body showed no other signs of life, a sudden hopeful leap sprang in the pit of Dan's stomach, a hope that he hardly dared to believe... Can he be still alive? Is it even possible? A single tear slid down Dan's cheek... Oh God, could it be true...? Dan leapt to his feet and grabbed Herbert roughly by the shoulders. In an act of pure emotional, un-professional hysteria, he lifted and shook the body wildly, yelling and screaming Herbert's name, screeching at him to wake up, to not be dead... As he finally let go, throwing the limp body back onto the sofa, he was sobbing blunt tears of rage and grief like he'd never stop. He looked at Herbert through his tearstained vision, as he remained so still... Racking with sobs, he dropped onto his knees and curled into a ball, the hopeful feeling dying as fast as it had appeared.. Dan was clutching at his face in frustration when he heard a sudden choked splutter followed by several coughs... He froze, then lifted his head so slowly up towards the sofa, only to see his friend, whom he had so secretly admired in utmost privacy, leaning up on his elbow, coughing violently into his hand. For several seconds, Dan could't move in his stupour, not daring to believe that this could be happening... As Herbert looked up from his coughing fit, directly at Dan, the truth hit him; and he stumbled ecstatically to his feet, tripping over himself as he got up and leapt over to where Herbert sat, confused and slightly scared, shaking lightly. He's... alive... He's alive!!! How... no, i don't care how, he's alive, and that's all that matters... All that matters...
"Herbert! Oh my God, are you alright? What the hell happened?!" Dan burbled manically, peering wide-eyed up at the sickly-looking doctor. Herbert rubbed his eyes with his hands, shaking his head slightly, still trembling.
"I... I'm not sure... I don't really... remember..? Herbert mumbled quietly, putting a hand to his head and wincing. He looked over at Dan, his bare eyes narrowed into slits, squinting furiously. He then looked down at his lap, his left eye twitching. " My head's hurting... How did I get... up here?" He looked back at Dan, and shook his head again, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can't see a thing... Where's my... glasses?" He felt around him.
"They're... I'll go get them... Wait here." Dan stumbled to his feet and walked shakily down the corridor to the basement. He hurried down the steps and over to the desk, reaching and picking up the unfolded pair of glasses still laying there crookedly. As he turned away, he heard something crunch under his foot. He looked down, and saw the sharp shards of glass and metal of the broken needle, the remaining dregs of luminous fluid leaking onto the floor. Dan frowned down at it, kicking it to the side in anger before proceeding up the stairs and back to the front room, where Herbert was now fully sat up, his head in his hands.
"Here you go, Herbert..." Dan approached and held out the glasses. Herbert looked up slowly, and took them from him, clumsily pushing them on and over his ears. His face still looked so pale, the crooked collection of long, reddish-pink scars on his left cheek, remnants of an unforseen feline attack a few weeks back, shiny and reflective as they hit the light. His eyes remained glassy-looking and dark, somehow unfocused..., His bottom lip was trembling slightly, his hands lightly shaking on his lap. Dan gently sat beside him and looked at him, his expression one of pity and slight bewilderment. Herbert gazed at the floor for a few moments before hesitantly looking up at Dan, gentle tears forming in his misty eyes.
"I really feel... dreadful, Dan... I think I remember... I was down in the lab, and..." He trailed off, his gaze lowering to the inside of his pockmarked left arm joint, the veins still disturbingly close to the surface and bright blue. He winced, and looked back up at Dan, the tears beginning to spill over, running silently down his ashen cheeks. "What happened...?" He whispered quietly, wiping the tears self-consciously, his left eye beginning to twitch again. Dan hesitated, looking away and back again, trying to find the right words...
" You... Well, I came home, and you... weren't around, so I was in my room working, but I couldn't hear... I didn't know... where you were, so I looked for you, and found you down in the basement... You looked asleep, so I tried to wake you, but you were... I mean, you looked... God, you were... dead, Herbert... you were dead...!" Herbert was gazing at him wide-eyed, a frustrated confusion seeping into his pallid features. " You really were!! There was no pulse, you weren't breathing, nothing... and that needle was empty... Jesus..." Dan looked away again, the memories welling up inside his head. Herbert frowned, eyebrows furrowing his forehead, slowly shaking his head from side to side. "Fascinating..." Herbert tilted his head to the side and looked back at Dan, "You say I was definitely... dead?" Dan nodded silently. "Fascinating..." He narrowed his eyes, surveying Dan's traumatised features curiously. "What's the matter? You look worse than I feel...?" Dan stared in disbelief at Herbert.
"Well, maybe that's because you were dead just a few minutes ago!!? Herbert, I was so scared! You totally overdosed on that... shit... You were dead! You were fucking dead!!" Dan was yelling now, amazed Herbert could be so casual about so nearly dying, about causing him so much pain. Herbert bristled in protest.
"Oh come on, Dan, the level of reagent must have merely simulated death, a foolish oversight on my part, admittedly..."
"For Christ's sake!" Dan interrupted, "Don't you understand how frightened I was!? Don't you understand... how much you... mean to me...?" Dan's voice was nearly a whisper by the end, embarassment burning his cheeks. Herbert did a double-take before leaning away slightly.
"What do you mean by that?" Herbert asked matter-of-factly, his expression unreadable. Dan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, gazing at the floor.
"I just mean that, um, I was... really upset when I found you..." He mumbled, hesitating a little, " And, erm, I.. care about you, that's all..." Dan struggled, knowing he was under Herbert's stare, not daring to look up at the man's face. There was silence for a minute or so, and Dan forced himself to flicker his eyes upwards, to check if he'd actually been heard. Herbert's face was twisted in a mix of surprise and doubt, his disbelieving eyes narrow and cynical. Dan held the silence, waiting for Herbert to speak. Herbert twitched and jerked his head away to the side. His fingers were intwined, gripping tightly as he spoke.
"You say that you... care?" His body language made it clear that this was an awkward subject, and he wasn't enjoying discussing this in the least. "Dan, I have never in my life known anybody who I could say truly... cared... about me." He coughed quietly in his throat a few times before continuing, his voice low and self-conscious, a tone Dan couldn't recall him having used before. "I've always been... shunned, pushed aside, and... ignored... by those supposed to care..." his face contorted as painful memories seemed to surface, stinging him like thorns. He opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it slowly when words failed to form. Dan winced as he saw such personal pain twisting Herbert's face. He edged a little closer, putting a comforting hand on Herbert's shoulder. Herbert flinched his head at the contact, but made no move to shrug away. Dan inched a little closer still, and wound his arm around him. Herbert's weariness caused him to give way, and his head gently fell sideways onto Dan's chest, just as it had when Dan first found him... Herbert closed his glazed eyes and sighed contentedly. Dan sat motionless in satisfied comfort to have Herbert close to him, to feel him steadily breathing, his slender chest rising and falling against him. He pulled him closer into an embrace, almost cradling him like a child. He really did look so helpless now, so vulnerable, and Dan felt a strong need to... protect him... Dan bent his head and nuzzled into Herbert's soft neck, exhaling onto the warm skin. He pressed his nose gently up under his jawline and closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself. This is how it's meant to be... he thought to himself, This is what I want... But then, once again, he noticed something strange,...there's... no pulse... it's still as a stone... Dan's eyes snapped open, jerking his head back slightly, lifting a hand quickly to Herbert's neck. Nothing. At all.
"Oh my God, Herbert!!! Herbert!!!" Dan yelled at the top of his voice, convulsing violently and shaking Herbert hard. Herbert jerked sideways and leapt up in panic, falling from the sofa in the process, "What!?" Dan leant back, wide eyed, staring in shock down at Herbert, mouth agape.
"What in hell is the matter!? Tell me!" Herbert rose to his knees and to his feet in a single, fluid movement.
"But...you... your pulse...! It wasn't there!" Herbert frowned at him. "Really! Feel for yourself! It's not there...!" Herbert looked at him hesitantly before slowly reaching a hand upwards to press onto his neck gland. He waited a few moments before a bewildered, slightly scared expression crossed his features. He pressed harder, before trying the other side. His nose wrinkled in confusion, and he finally shoved both hands against his chest, feeling for a more direct heartbeat. He shook his head slowly, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked up at Dan, his eyes wide with disoriented shock.
"This is impossible... There's some mistake here... Ridiculous..." He murmered quietly, balling his hands into fists. He suddenly whipped around and fluidly half-ran down the corridor, in the direction of the basement. Dan was stupefied. How the hell... What in God's name is happening? He's... technically... He should be... dead... He's dead...! How is he still breathing? How is he alive?!
Dan sat mystified for a few moments before slowly rising to his feet and following Herbert down the corridor. He proceeded through the doorway and down into the basement, the door still cracked and splintered against the wall from his episode the previous night. Dan saw Herbert over at the desk in the corner, his posture trembling with irritation, his smart white shirt open to the waist, black tie loosened. He'd put on a stethoscope from his medical supply case, and was furiously shifting the sensitive metal device around his smooth upper chest, defiantly searching for any trace of a heartbeat. Dan watched silently as Herbert's expression grew more exasperated and desperate until he finally gave up, tearing the instrument out of his ears and throwing it onto the desk with a loud clunk. He stood for a moment or so, teeth clenched, eyes wild, until he eventually calmed down slightly and dropped onto the small stool without a sound. He looked up at Dan, his face a picture of unsure confusion and nervousness.
"Dan... What does this mean?" He spoke in a voice barely audible, his shoulders drooping slightly. "How can this be happening?!?" He said it as a rhetorical question, yet his gaze fixed on Dan with an unmistakably pleading look, wanting an answer. Dan moved across to where Herbert sat, and knelt down in front of him, staring up at his frightened, fragile-looking face. He hated to do it, but he forced himself to say what he knew they were both thinking.
"Herbert... When you injected yourself with that stuff last night, you know you overdid it. I come home to find you here, not a breath of life seemingly still left in you... Yet all it took was for me to shake the life back into you, and you rise, supposedly from the dead, like some macabre Sleeping Beauty... But, you... you aren't really alive, Herbert. You can't be..." Dan glanced down and placed his hand onto Herbert's, clutching the small fingers securely. " Your skin's still warm, you're breathing and moving around, but..." He looked directly at him, at his deathly pale skin and his strangely subdued green eyes, blunted as if covered by a layer of film.
"Your eyes are dead, Herbert. Your flesh is dead, your heart is dead... You're dead." Herbert's left eye twitched three times, he shuddered and sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to their entwined hands. He nodded ever so slightly in resigned agreement, his bottom lip trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pursed his lips, his body tense and perfectly still. Dan tightened his grip a little on Herbert's hand, placing the other on top aswell. He fought to find the right words to say, but he could fine none. All he could think, while gazing up at that sweet, delicate face was that he would make sure he was always here for him, always here to protect him and comfort him, to care for him when he needed it most... He knew now, with all his heart, that he could never follow any other path; his place was here, to live in recluse with his friend, his sweetheart from whom he could never be torn. He didn't care what Herbert was; alive, dead or something in between. He was his. Herbert slowly opened his fading eyes and gazed serenely at Dan, the smallest hint of a smile - a genuine, warm, contented smile - forming on his rounded lips. Dan smiled back, and they both knew then that this was forever; a match made in heaven, born of a dying hope...