Chapter 6 – Slumbering Black.
Kyle sits patiently by Kenny's side, chatting idly about recent events and daily gossip and his lonely personal life. He talks about how Tweak's Coffee Shop smells like Kenny's breath and how he can't seem to get customers' orders right anymore and that he can't seem to understand why. He watches Kenny's favourite's shows and mumbles thoughtlessly through adverts. Desperate the fill the silence with something other than his grief. Kenny lays asleep for almost a month, where he catches a mighty fever from a nurse Kyle later threatens to sue. Kenny dozes beside Kyle – who weeps, grieves and exists around him. Stan visits Kyle everyday up at half seven, where he smuggles take out from their local diner and together, they meal on something bland and inexpensive – like always, he brings Kyle two cups of coffee in case Kenny wakes. Most mornings Kyle brings in his own homemade coffee; Kenny's favourite. He sets the steaming drink besides Kenny and hopes the aroma will wake him. Not that it has caused a reaction yet. Their routine continues unharmed, they sit waiting for something to happen, for Kenny to gasp out Kyle's name or whisper, "where am I?" into the white space of the hospital suite. And yet life continues on, the final mounds of snow begin to dry and soon, during the end of Kenny's slumber; it wilts into nothing.
A box of Kenny's belongings were handed to Kyle at emission; a condom; a near finished gum packet; their house keys; crumpled receipts; loose change; their engagement rings. Kyle had opened the box with a shaky grasp, blurrily peering down at the two Celtic rings which sit around a silk, white pillow. One ring is thinner, with swirling Celtic patterns firmed between two pillars which wrap around Kyle's finger. The other is slightly thicker, and follows a similar design to its thinner counterpart, both are made entirely of white gold, and although they're void of crystals – Kyle knows that this would've cost Kenny an arm and a leg. He spends mindless days trying on both rings, trying to figure out which one is for him; he hovers the rings above Kenny's limp black fingers, closing one eye to focus on how each ring would look in his fingers. He spends hours trying to decide which hand would Kenny prefer to wear it. His Christian left hand or his Jewish right? Where would he like Kyle to wear his? He hides them in the hospital room afterwards, not bothering to look inside again.
Long weeks of Kyle decaying by Kenny side begin, Ike spends two weeks accompanying him until his course restarts and he and Gerald fly back out to the coast to continue Ike's education. Although he still tries to call, he has very little hope of getting through. Sheila sits at home and wilts waiting for her son to return, remakes his bed each day and wonders when the next time he'll use it will be. The lunch she brings for Kyle is normally discarded, much like her support and soon she finds it hard to approach him too. Wendy had asked "What will you do if he dies?" Kyle had been nothing but rage, locking the door the next time she came to visit and hissing that she had been spreading a negativity that he didn't think Kenny would need.
No one had mention how Kyle had sprung from the room and sprinted the entire length to the jeweller's store, his heart burning and his eyesight fizzing and his head pounding over the sound of sirens; No one mentions how Kenny was lying limp over the black and white lines of the crossing, yellow tape blooming around him, along with unwelcoming reminder of flashing blue lights and wailing policemen. Kyle had stood gawking, feet betraying his movement. A man appears to make them move along, but Kyle pushes past, calling for Kenny to move, to do something. No one mentions how the police didn't recognise their gay relationship to be worthy enough to let Kyle get into the ambulance with him, letting him sit fidgety in Stan's car, ignoring the way Alice had wailed from the back seat.
No one mentions that Kyle wasn't allowed to see Ken until 3 days later, where he was informed that his ribs along his left side of his body had been crushed and his leg twisted and smashed – the skin from around his left arm had peeled away from where he skidded across the road. He sees Ken's unstated black fingers and bloody knuckles and Kyle can't fathom how a car which should've been driving at 30mph could've done this much damage.
Kip had been visiting him daily, ignoring Kyle's blunt behaviour and how he tries to put him off his next visit each time. He'd bring flowers and cards and many other unwanted items which don't comprehend Kyle's sorrow, patting him over his hat each time he bestows something onto Kyle. Today he brings a bag of new clothing, soap and fresh towels with their labels still attached. "At least shower; wash your hair; clean your face. Someone will be here if he wakes when you're gone." He starts when Kyle begins to refuse his new gift, clinging to Kenny's swollen palm like he has done for the past weeks.
"Yeah, I will." He returns, feeling almost hypnotised by Kip's words – he feels so filthy, so unkempt. He wouldn't want Kenny waking up and worrying over Kyle's health instead of his own. "I'll be quick, don't worry." He gives Kip the TV remote, fretting about as Kip situates himself.
It feels good to stand under the lukewarm mist of the hospital showers, he lets the water patter over his face and hair, flooding his pores and parading his skin with a fresh cleanliness which has him sighing. He's glad the hospital let him use their facilities; they're probably begun recognising that not guarding Kenny is causing Kyle more emotional toil then he'll let on. He fumbles through Kip's bag and fishes out what new clothing he has given him; a pair of grey, slim fit jogging bottoms which are loose enough to make Kyle pull the draw strings into a tight bow; he finds his top sits on the smaller side, and it clings around his chest like a second layer of skin. Kyle tries to push the inside out with his hands, but the elastic pulls the top straight up against him again. Kyle doesn't try to find a second pair of underwear, opting to use his own again but a pair fling free when Kyle pulls out the new clothing. They're tight and a brilliant red colour – they seem shorter than usual, so Kyle pushes them to the base of the bag and begins folding the used towel over it, trying to make it seem like they were never found at all.
A nurse stumbles past him in a mad dash as he plunders back to Kenny's suite. She doesn't turn as she apologises, instead just waves a hand above her shoulder as she turns the corridor towards Kenny's room. It's this surge that has Kyle running too, he doesn't want to pretend that it's most definitely not Kenny, wants to ensure that the nurse isn't running to the last room in a dead-end corridor.
He watches doctors pile in, hears Kip's bag drop beside him, feel the way his feet stumble to keep him standing, to keep him moving. He sees Kip appear from Kenny's room, a murky expression haunts his face, his eyebrows are knitted tightly, creating creases in his nose and forehead, his mouth quivers and a tongue extends to calm them.
"What happened?" He chokes when he finally reaches the door, finally sees Kenny through the mob of people, calling at him, counting to three, it smells like electric, smells like death.
"He- he flatlined." Kip whispers, his fingers guide him forward until they rest on Kyle's cheeks, slightly mushing his face into a worse contorted image than it already is. "Let's get out of here, you don't want to see this, do you."
"No!" He yells, a sudden flourish of strength pulses through him; it has him knocking away Kip's hands and surging into the room, pushing past awaiting nurses and idle doctors, "Save him!" he wails, lunging for Kenny's nearest hand and shaking it with vigour, "Kenny! Kenny! Don't you dare! Kenny, please!" He screams, begging Kenny's indifferent form to heave with energy.
The doctors push him aside. They shock him. They say, "Perhaps this is for the best."
Then it happens.
It happens like a unexpecting ball to the face, knocks Kyle off until his no longer staring at Kenny but at his heart monitor and how it begins to steadily thump around his dormant blood. Kyle gushes for air, gulps down a whole breath full with a thundering chest. Colour pours into Kenny's cheeks and the doctors clap reassuringly like how they we're trained, and Kyle finally lets the adrenaline bleed through his eyes.
He turns to grasp Kip in exhilaration but finds his spot vacant, he has no time to wonder where he's gone when he's so relieved Kenny is still fighting and surviving, and although he doesn't wake, he just stays alive enough for Kyle to continue hoping.
Ever since, Kyle has started to watch himself turn into something he's not, something that's greedy and desperate and lamented all at once. He's been thinking about what had happened with Kip a lot lately, he wonders what he could've said differently, dreams out the what if's of not slapping Kip's hand away, of letting himself be guided away from Kenny for long enough to forget his self-loathing, wonders if Kenny would definitely be dead, or if his brief absence would still have saved him. Kyle lets his phone ring out three times before he finally answers, begrudgingly pulling the phone to his ear with hesitance. "Yes?" He says before he realises that he hasn't checked the caller ID.
"I knew you'd answer eventually." Ike replies, just as irked. "Can you stop this pathetic display already?"
"Excuse me?" Kyle jerks, pulling himself upright as his brows tightly clench together.
"When was the last time you went home? Showered properly? Ate properly? Acted like yourself?"
"I-I-"
"Ma's so worried that Dad's thinking of flying back home to help out."
"Ma seems fine when she's with me."
"Because you're pushing her away to the point that she doesn't know what to do without you snapping at her completely – you've been pushing everyone away. Even me, I had to call three times before you answered."
"Do you think you could act like yourself in a moment like this?" He whispers, suddenly feeling very frail and forlorn. There's a tight dryness in his throat that constricts his voice into a stinging jumble of sounds.
"You have to try. There's no point detaching yourself from the situation, it'll only make everything worse."
"I'm afraid of what will happen when he wakes up – if he wakes up."
"Have a little faith." He softens, there's no hard edges in his voice now and the distinct sadness behind it makes Kyle sob. "You know I can come back home if you need me–"
"No, no." Kyle sobers, "You need to finish your degree, Miracle Child."
"I'm not the only miracle child you know, perhaps you should let things take their course and deal with it if the time comes. Kenny performs miracles daily; you should trust that he can do this too. He used to tell me he'd move mountains to make you happy. You can't move it for him, you just need to trust him that he will do it."
"You're right, I'm sorry. I'll sort it out."
It was true, Kyle had somehow managed to push everyone away. Stopping his meals with Stan, making the hospital organise him an extra bed so he didn't have to go home and face his mother, candidly yelling at Kip when he suggested that he leave Kenny alone for a while a week after he'd flatlined, refusing Wendy at the hospital door the visit after she asked what he would do if Kenny died, Stan had somehow always managed to worn his way around Kyle's inapt behaviour and let the bile of his anger sit behind clench teeth.
He's not sure what he'll do, how could he let himself become someone like this? A constant anger stirs within him, yet his pride won't allow him to admit it. He'll call Wendy in the morning, apologise for cutting her out, he'll get her to pass the phone to Stan so he can get an apology too. His still unaware of where Kip lives so he'll wait until the next time he sees him, waits until fate pulls them together again so he can ask for forgiveness before finally letting go of the fears that keep Kyle walking on needles.
"Are you asleep?" he hears a voice whisper and after a second of fright Kyle's insides churn with bewilderment.
"Oh my god, Kenny?" He cries, pulsing himself into Kenny's unharmed shoulder blade, "Please tell me you're awake!" His fingers struggle to grasp onto him without harming him, he feels delusional – like he's been waiting for this moment for too long and suddenly it doesn't feel right that it should be here, happening.
"I am, I'm here." He whispers back, gently brushing his hand through Kyle's crown. "How long has it been?" His voice grumbles, sore and underworked. Kyle can't seem to attach himself to this moment yet, he sits up and peers at Kenny from the same spot he has been in all month, yet now Kenny's eyes are watching him back and his bruised black fingers reach forward to entwine their fingers.
They match whispers, "You've been asleep for a month; you flatlined once too, doctors nearly left you to die."
"It would've been fine, remember." Kenny reminds, pointing at his brown eye with his free hand. "I would just be reborn."
"This isn't the time for jokes, be serious please!"
"Fine, Fine – then, instead of dying now, I'll only be dying later." And if Kyle knew what Kenny's later death would involve, he would've told the doctors, "Yes, this is for the best."