Going Home
Chapter 4
By the time Mike had washed up the dishes, Steve had managed to pack most of his things. He wasn't really sure if he had what could be considered fishing clothes but he packed the same type of casual clothes that he would normally take on his skiing trips, so he put in two pairs of jeans and some casual shirts and he threw in a sweater or two and some polo neck tops as he knew Modesto could be cold this time of year in the evenings. He packed toiletries and his shaving gear and he made sure his migraine pills were in just in case although he sure hoped he wouldn't be needing them again for a long while to come. While he had managed to calm his breathing down, his heart was still racing slightly and his stomach was trying its best to make Steve dispel what he had forced into it earlier. It was churning and somersaulting and waves of nausea hit him every now and then and he had to breathe through them. So far he was managing to keep everything down but he truly didn't know how long he could keep it up as each time the nausea hit him it was stronger than the previous time.
Just as he had managed to breathe through a particularly nasty bout of nausea, Mike knocked on the bedroom door.
"Steve? You ok in there?" Mike asked slightly worried at finding the door closed.
Steve hoped that he could hide his discomfort from Mike and grabbing a tissue from a box on the bedside locker he wiped the thin sheen of cold sweat off his face and shouted out.
"Yeah ... Come in! I'm just packed."
Mike opened the door and entered the room and saw Steve standing at the bedside, zipping up his bag. He had his back to Mike but there was something about him that concerned Mike and although he couldn't quite put his finger on it, his gut instinct was ringing alarm bells loud and clear.
"Well, that was fast! You sure you have everything you need for a weekend away?" Mike asked using the question as an excuse to study his partner more closely.
Mike knew Steve very well and was an expert at reading body language, a talent that helped him greatly both at work and in reading his, at times, not very verbal partner. He knew that if Steve refused to catch his eye that he was covering up something as Steve was aware of Mike's body language reading skills too but if he looked at him then he was worrying for nothing. True to Mike's fears, Steve remained with his back to Mike and answered.
"Yeah ... I think so" was all he said and he started to put away the stuff he had emptied onto his bed earlier that he didn't need for this trip.
He picked up the box and felt his emotions fray. Mike saw his hesitation and moved forward and placing a hand on the young man's shoulder, he spoke softly and kindly.
"Are you going to bring that with you?"
As he asked the question he leaned his head forward and looked casually at Steve's face. There was no sign of upset but he felt slightly trembly under Mike's hand and he was breathing deeper than he reckoned, without being a medical professional, he should be. Steve was staring at the box and knowing that Mike was looking at him only served to unnerve him even more however he managed to bring his mask down with greater difficulty than he normally would and he replied.
"I don't know if I should or not! What do you think?" and he half glanced sideways at Mike almost desperately wanting him to tell him if he should or not.
Mike took the box out of Steve's hands gently and squeezed his shoulder at the same time.
"Sit down a minute buddy boy." Mike said encouraging Steve to sit down on the bed and sitting beside him still holding the box.
Again he seemed to be studying Steve closely trying to judge what was going on in his head. Steve sensed it too and it was making him very uncomfortable. He could feel his steely mask slipping and the nausea was threatening to surface again as he desperately tried to control the distinct tremble in his hands by grasping then both together. Mike was taking what seemed like a lifetime to speak and Steve prayed that he would just say whatever it was that he knew he was building up to asking. Thankfully his prayers were answered as Mike continued.
"If you're not sure then maybe it's better to bring it anyway. Huh? Steve? Are you ok with this trip? Are you worried about it? Would you rather we not go?"
Mike couldn't have asked a worse question. Steve didn't want to disappoint Mike and wanting to put this whole thing behind him, he trusted Lenny that he knew professionally that the trip to Modesto would do just that, but every fibre of his being wanted to scream out that he would rather walk over hot coals right now than go to Modesto. Steve was taking too long to answer and Mike was getting concerned. Steve looked down at his lap and felt really sick all of a sudden. He felt slightly dizzy and he put a hand up to his face to mask his discomfort. He started to shake and Mike flew into action.
"STEVE! Whats the matter? Talk to me buddy boy!"
The colour had physically drained from Steve's face and he had turned a deathly shade of white. He heard Mike speaking but it sounded as if it was from a distance rather than from right beside him. Mike decided that he needed to get him lying down as he looked like he might pass out. Thankful that they were sitting on Steve's bed he put down the box he had been holding and grabbed Steve's shoulders and lay him back against the pillows and then swung his legs up on the bed using his hold all bag as a means to raise them. He then ran to the bathroom and taking out his handkerchief he wetted it with cold water and ran back to Steve and placed it on his forehead. Again he tried to get Steve to answer.
"Steve! Come on now! Talk to me. Are you ok?"
Lying down with his feet raised and the cool compress had brought him around a little so he stammered.
"Yeah ... s-s-sorry Mike. Just f-f-felt strange ... for a minute ..."
"Ok ... just take it easy. You probably just did too much. All that racing around earlier and then the shower and the packing. Just breathe nice and slow. You'll be ok in a minute."
Mike didn't know who he was trying to convince, Steve or himself but he felt that Steve was coming around. After a few minutes Steve felt better although the nausea remained overwhelming but he didn't want to let on to Mike so he didn't say anything. He sat up slowly despite Mike's protests and spoke to him as normally as he could.
"I'm ok now Mike. You're right ... I just overdid things. I feel better now. Sorry. What were you asking me?"
"I was asking you if you were up to this trip but I think I just got my answer! Steve, I don't think you're up to this! I think we should cancel! "
While deep inside Steve was relieved by Mike's words, he also remembered the reason for the visit in the first place and the fact that Mike would benefit from it too. He had to stop being selfish and just thinking of it from his own perspective so suddenly getting a spark of determination from God knows where, he bravely fought back the rising nausea and spoke confidently.
"Absolutely not ! We're all packed and good to go. Besides I'm not going to miss seeing you in action with that fishing rod of yours. I'll finally get to see if you're as good as you say you are. I just felt a bit dizzy that's all. I'm fine now. Let's not waste any more time. Let's just lock up and go. Ok?"
Steve amazed himself as to where he found this new-found courage and was equally astonished at how the words had just flowed from him freely. He stood up, taking extra care not to stumble and give away the true unsteadiness that he felt deep within him and looked confidently at Mike. Mike had not replied and was desperately trying to figure out if he was truly feeling better or putting his usual brave face on things. He definitely seemed ok but he was still very white in the face and there was something else, something he couldn't quite figure, that was off with the young man's demeanour. Standing up beside him, still himself a little shook from the incident he spoke candidly.
"Are you sure? You're not just saying that for my benefit? Because if you are ... "
Steve stopped him mid sentence and added strongly.
"No. I'm not Mike. Come on let's get going. Otherwise we're going to miss that phone call you're expecting."
Mike decided that he would go along with the young man but he was going to keep an extra close eye on him just in case!
"Alright, ok. But you're going to sit in the living room and drink more of that soda while I put your bag in the car and lock up. Ok hotshot?"
Steve nodded, actually grateful at not having to prove himself much longer as the act was wearing thin. Mike guided Steve into the couch and sat him down and handed him the glass of soda. Then returning to Steve's bedroom he put the box carefully into Steve's bag and zipped it up again and headed out the front door to place the bag in the trunk of his car. As soon as the door closed and he heard Mike descend the steps he got up and crossing the living room as quickly as he felt he could after his dizzy spell, he poured the rest of the soda into a potted plant that stood in the corner and returned to his seat. He hated deceiving Mike but the way his stomach felt right now it would only take one mouthful of anything or one wrong smell or sight to send him over the edge. He prayed the nausea would just let up and leave him be but until it did he had to keep fighting it as best he could.
Mike returned and came into Steve. Seeing the glass empty he took it from Steve.
"Good. That should help!"
And he then brought the glass into the kitchen and then making sure everything was secure the two men locked up Steve's apartment and headed down to Mike's car. Mike stayed close to Steve in case he felt dizzy again on the steps but they made it down without incident. Steve sat into the passenger seat and Mike got in the driver's side. Steve was awfully quiet and Mike stared at him briefly before he started up the engine, pulled out and turned the car around and headed for De Haro Street.
For the first time that he could remember Steve cursed the many hills and bumps they drove over on the way to Mike's house. They never ever bothered him but today with every bump they went over, Steve's stomach contents were reaching the back of his throat and travelling back down again. By the time they reached Mike's house Steve was ready to throw up. He was desperately trying to stop himself and was swallowing the bile that was rising in his throat.
A neighbour of Mike's passed by and the older man stopped Mike and passed the time of day with him. Steve just wanted to get inside as quickly as possible as he feared the worst, so he politely interrupted the lively conversation.
"Sorry! Excuse me Mike. Can we go inside please?"
Mike shot a worried look at Steve noting a certain urgency in the young man's voice. Fearing that he might be feeling dizzy again he quickly said goodbye to his neighbour so that he could get the young man inside. Remembering something that was still in the boot and not wanting Steve to tackle the steps without being a step behind him he yelled after Steve.
"Steve hold up! I just need to get something from the car!"
Steve stopped on the steps and watched as Mike retrieved a clear plastic container from the boot but couldn't make out what was in it. As Mike reached him they ascended up to Mike's front door and as Mike got the keys to open up, he handed the container to Steve to hold temporarily.
"Here hold this for a second will you?"
Steve took the container and almost dropped it when he saw that it was filled with dozens of wriggling worms!
"Mike! You use live bait for fishing?"
As Mike opened the door, he answered.
"Didn't Harry use live bait?"
"No, he used lures."
"I'm telling you buddy boy, live bait is the best way to catch fish. Why these little beauties are going to catch us the best trout that Modesto has to offer. They're red wigglers and night crawlers. Here let me show you?"
"No, that's ok. Just take them will you?"
"What's the matter? You're not squeamish about a few worms are you?"
Normally Steve wouldn't have cared but there was something about the squirming creatures that was turning his stomach and he desperately wanted to be rid of them. Handing the box abruptly to Mike, Mike chuckled thinking that Steve had a dislike of the worms not thinking for one second that he was actually on the verge of throwing up because of them. Caught up in his love of fishing he did the worse thing he could have done without realizing. He opened the lid to explain which worm was which and the sight of them and the smell was the last straw for Steve as he felt himself gag and to his horror he knew he could fight it no longer.
Steve's skin colour turned from white to a tinge of green in seconds and covering his mouth Steve turned and ran to Mike's bathroom. Mike put the lid back on quickly, alarmed by Steve's sudden reaction and putting it down and shutting over the front door he quickly ran after Steve. When he reached the bathroom he heard Steve violently throwing up. The door was ajar so he followed him in. Poor Steve was in a bad way and Mike knelt beside him and rubbed his back. The heaving stopped several minutes later and Steve was shaking and was highly embarrassed at not being able to prevent this purge that looking back now he felt all along had been inevitable. As a matter of fact Steve reckoned that fighting it for so long had only made it much worse. His stomach and throat burned and he instinctively curled a hand around his sore midsection and refused to catch Mike's eye. Mike felt guilty, reckoning that the sight of his live bait had caused this reaction and cursed himself for his oversight.
"Steve! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have given you the live bait to hold. This is all my fault! Are you ok now?"
Not wanting Mike to feel guilty , he decided that full disclosure was in order so he replied shakily.
"No, no it wasn't that Mike! I've felt sick since earlier. I just didn't want to say anything after you went to the trouble of cooking food. I'm sorry Mike. I should have said something ... "
Hearing this, realization dawned on Mike. That was what had been so off about him. Of course it made sense now in hindsight but again Mike cursed himself for not working it out earlier.
"Steve! You have to be honest with me and tell me how you're feeling or I can't help you! "
"I know, I know ... I'm sorry. I really tried to keep it down Mike but it wouldn't go away. "
Mike thought about the last few hours and the fact that Steve had tried the whole time to stop himself being sick, putting a brave face on it even despite the bumpy ride here and felt annoyed with himself for not noticing and questioning him. Steve had started shivering and Mike felt that sitting here on the cold tiled floor wasn't ideal so he spoke to the sick young man again.
"Steve, you're getting cold. Let's get you into the couch and you can lie down for a bit ok?"
But Steve protested. While he was feeling chilled, he still felt awfully sick and while he reckoned he had emptied his stomach he didn't feel confident leaving the bathroom just yet.
"No, Mike. Just leave me here for another minute. I ... still feel sick."
"Come on now. You've nothing left to be sick with. You'll feel better if you go lie down. If it makes you feel better I'll get you a basin?"
Steve wasn't convinced that was the best move but he allowed Mike to help him up from the floor all the same and soon Mike had him lying on the couch with a blanket over him and a basin beside him. He felt truly lousy and the bout of vomiting had drained him. He decided that a quick doze might help him feel better so he let himself drift off to sleep, grateful for the short respite that sleep would allow him.
Mike had sat with him and saw him falling asleep. He was very worried about his partner and was unsure what he should do next. The boy looked like hell! He thought about ringing Dr. Armstrong but that would only serve to get him put back in hospital which Steve would hate so he decided on a different tactic and leaving Steve's side momentarily he rang the only other person he felt he could rely on to advise him correctly. As he dialled the number he waited patiently and after just two rings the voice of Lenny Murchison answered.
"Hello, Murchison!"
"LENNY ! It's Mike! I've got big problems! It's Steve! I got him home and even managed to get him to eat but after I got him back to my place things have taken a turn for the worst. He saw the container of live bait I bought for our fishing trip and he got violently sick. Lenny, he looks like death warmed up! What should I do Lenny? I can't bring him to Modesto like this!"
Mike hadn't meant to sound so panicked but the worry was chewing on him. Lenny could sense Mike's unease and hurried to calm him.
"Ok Mike. Calm down! When did Steve start feeling bad? Was he feeling sick from the time he left the hospital?"
Mike thought back to the events of the morning.
"No ... maybe ... I don't know Lenny! He seemed a bit off but you know Steve he puts up a front and it's hard to know what's going on in that head of his! I thought he seemed ok back at his place. He was a little tired but he ate ok. I just don't know Lenny ..."
"Mike? Did you discuss the trip or Harry with Steve this morning?" Lenny asked in full psychologist mode.
Again Mike thought about their few conversations.
"No ... he was fairly quiet since we left the hospital ... wait a minute! "
Then Mike remembered their breakfast table conversation and it was Mike's turn for the colour to drain from his face. He remembered how at the mention of Harry's place that Steve's appetite had seemed to wane and how he had begun to push the food around his plate. He also remembered how just after he had asked about who had bought it and then he had gone to his bedroom and closed the door and how shortly after that he had seemed to suffer a bad dizzy spell. He thought about how quiet he had been on the drive to his place and how impatient he was to get inside.
"Yes Lenny, I told him over breakfast that Harry's place was still there and that I was arranging with the realtor for us to go view it tomorrow afternoon!" Mike admitted shamefully, feeling responsible for Steve's current distress.
"Mike! Listen to me. Did you ask Steve if he was ok with that?"
Again Mike answered downheartedly.
"No ... I just told him."
"I see ... And did Steve act differently after you discussed that with him?"
"Yes ... he stopped eating. He said his appetite wasn't fully back and he had a bad dizzy spell shortly after. How could I have been so stupid as not to realize that!" Mike chastised himself, feeling angry and guilty with himself all at the same time.
"Mike. Don't be so hard on yourself! You're too close to the situation. Sometimes it makes it harder for us to see things. You were probably watching him so closely you overlooked the obvious. I very much doubt it was the can of worms that caused Steve to be so sick. Lack of appetite, dizziness, vomiting are all signs of anxiety. He's anxious about the trip Mike. That's what's causing his problems. Where is he now?"
"He's lying on my couch asleep. But he doesn't look good Lenny."
"Ok. Keep an eye on him. I'll come over and talk to him. I have to finish up here but I can be at your place within the hour. I'll judge then if he's up to the trip Mike. Is that ok?"
"Sure. I'd appreciate that. Thanks Lenny. I'll see you later."
"Ok ... and Mike! Try not to worry and don't blame yourself. This is something that Steve has to deal with. He'll get through it. We just have to figure out the best way to help him, that's all. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Mike thanked Lenny again and hung up. He walked back into the living room and sat down in the armchair and watched Steve sleep. He felt awful. He had promised the Doctor he would take care of Steve and he felt like he had let him down instead. He had made arrangements that concerned Steve without even asking him and hadn't even thought about how it would affect him to hear about the place where he suffered such trauma at such a young age. Some friend he was!
Mike noted that while Steve was sleeping, he was still very restless. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was just gone ten past twelve. Vowing to make things right with Steve, he sat watching over him and prayed that Lenny wouldn't be too long !
