Keith floated back reluctantly to the edge of consciousness. The pain which had been assaulting him for so long had lessened somewhat although he was still having difficulty breathing and his lungs felt inflamed and sore. Still half-asleep, he conducted a cursory examination of his condition and decided that, although his limbs still ached intolerably and his head was pounding so hard he could hear the blood rushing through his ears, he didn't feel quite as bad as before. Then he had felt like he was dying. Now - he just wanted to die. Unwittingly, he moaned, moving his head slightly on the pillow. He heard someone's soft voice and felt a hand stroking his hair back. The fingers running through his hair felt nice - comforting, but he was loathe to surface fully into the agony which he knew awaited him once he regained full awareness. He was quite content, for the moment, just to lie here and let that someone stroke his hair and make him feel warm, safe and loved. "Mom .." he murmured, confident that it was indeed his mother who was sitting beside him, and leaning into her hand with a snuffle.
Laurie bit her lip as her brother mumbled something under his breath and then turned into her hand. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that she had heard him say 'mom'. He thought their mother was still here; in fact, seemed convinced of the fact. Guilt swept through her as she glanced over at Shirley, deep in repose on the sofa at the other end of the room. She was loathe to wake her when Keith wasn't even fully cognizent yet. On the other hand, she had promised to do so if he even showed signs of coming back to awareness. Heaving a deep sigh, she turned back to her older brother, continuing to weave her fingers slowly through the dark hair which lay like a shroud beneath that wan, tortured face. "It's okay, honey," she whispered. "Everything's gonna be okay. Mom's here - and we're here too. We won't leave you, Keith. I promise."
Danny, sitting on the big comfy chair beside the bed, his feet curled up underneath him, said nothing as he watched his older sister try to soothe Keith. The only thing he wanted in this world was his brother to wake up and talk to him, crack a few jokes, insult him or just plain chat to him. But that wasn't going to happen. Keith was still in pain. He could see that from the expression on his face. It looked like he was fighting it, but it was a losing battle and Danny felt Keith's agony rip its way through to his own soul. He wanted to help his brother. Wanted to do something to ease the torment. But there was nothing he could do to make the pain go away. Nothing he could say that would make things any better. And Keith wasn't just going to wake up, lay eyes on him and start cracking jokes. There were going to be no insults hurled today - and the redheaded Partridge found himself wondering - not for the first time since they had witnessed the awful events earlier that morning - if his older brother was ever going to insult him again. Whether he was ever going to recover from this. And if he didn't - what were they going to do? What was he going to do? He depended on Keith. To be there for him when things went wrong, as a partner in crime, as a target for his torments and sometimes as a tormentor himself. But more, he depended on him as his older brother, as someone who had always been there, as someone he leaned on, his pal, his co-conspirator, his hero. This was just so hard - sitting here, watching him whilst he suffered - and for no good reason. It wasn't like any of this was even his fault - uh, oh, Danny, he scolded himself. Don't go down that road again. His hatred of Joni had more or less settled down to a mild simmer now and he was in danger of stoking that fire and allowing it to blaze out of control. But if he ever got his hands on her …!
"It's not fair!" he suddenly yelled, leaping out of the chair to pace around the room restlessly. "Why should Keith have to suffer like this when that no good Joni's out there - probably having a good time?! I hate her! I wish she was dead! I wish …" To his chagrin, his words ended on a sob as he broke down in floods of tears of anger, frustration and helplessness. Laurie reacted as quickly as she could but not quickly enough to prevent her mother being awoken by Danny's outburst. The next second he was in his mother's arms, her hands running up and down in his back trying to comfort him.
"Danny," she crooned, softly. "Danny, hush. It's okay. Keith's going to be all right …"
"How d'you know that, Mom?" he wept, turning his tear-streaked face upwards. "He's in such pain - and she's got away! She doesn't deserve to be free! He doesn't deserve this .. I - I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to … I mean …" He couldn't complete the sentence. Just voicing it might be enough to make it come true.
"Nothing's going to happen to Keith, Danny," Laurie said, firmly, leaving Keith's side to come to stand beside their mother and younger brother. "He's going to be just fine. You can believe mom when she tells you that. She wouldn't lie. The doctor said he was going to be fine - that's what you said, mom , isn't it?"
Shirley nodded. "Yes," she said, trying to hold her own tears in check at her children's obvious distress. Danny was still sobbing in her arms and she could see that Laurie was having a hard time holding herself together. Tears were glinting in her verdant green eyes and her lower lip was trembling. But she was trying to be brave for Danny, and for herself. Trying to believe that everything would be all right. That Keith would recover from all of this, that everything would eventually return to normal. And Shirley loved her for that. But she was having a hard time trying to convince herself of the same things. Especially when she glanced across at the bed to see that pale, limp figure lying so pitifully beneath the sheets. God, when would this nightmare end?
*****
Keith heard voices echoing through a long, dark tunnel. At first it all sounded like one loud, confused melee, then, gradually, he began to make out individual sounds. Someone was crying. That much he could tell. He didn't know who it was, although he felt he should recognise the voice. It sounded familiar, yet he had never heard it sound quite that wretched before. And in between sobs he could hear his own name. Whatever was wrong it sounded like it was about him. And there were other voices, muted, comforting sounds, although there were signs of distress in those voices, too. Like everyone in the world was crying and he had been left out of the loop. But the world wasn't crying. There were only three voices. Three voices which belonged to his world and they seemed to be crying about him. He puzzled over this for some moments before finally coming to a grim conclusion. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he was already dead. But if he was dead, would he be able to hear those sounds? Would he still be able to feel the pain which was still mounting an offensive on every nerve ending, every joint, every muscle? It still hurt to breathe, too and … he was breathing. Therefore he couldn't be dead. Was he dying? Was that it? He was dying and no-one wanted to tell him? Oh god .. but he still had so much left to do. He had his whole life to live! It wasn't fair! He couldn't die yet! He couldn't just leave his mom, Laurie, Danny, Chris and Tracy. He didn't want to say goodbye to them .. he was too young! Oh please, god, don't take me yet, he prayed, even as his eyes fluttered open and stared blearily in shocked surprise at the scene in front of him.
"Mom …?"
The plaintive sound reached Shirley's ears even above Danny's weeping and Laurie's soft, reassuring voice. Relinquishing her hold of Danny to his eldest sister, she was beside the bed in an instant, leaning over her eldest son, who was staring up at her with fear in his big brown eyes. "I'm here, sweetheart," she said, softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly. "It's all right, Keith, baby. I'm here."
It took a little time for him to get out the words he feared to say but eventually … "Mom, am I gonna die?"
Now it was her turn to stare at him in shock. He must have overheard Danny or perhaps got the idea from Danny's words - then again, it wouldn't be hard for him to come to this dreadful conclusion if he had woken up to find them all crying over him as had seemed to be the case. Her hand trembled as it touched his face - which, she noted with a moment's relief, was now a normal temperature - and she tried to smile reassuringly. "Oh, Keith, no, no, you're not going to die. You're just going through some pain right now because of the drugs you were given by Joni. But you're not going to die. Do you believe me?"
He didn't know what to think. She looked so sincere, but she could be lying to protect him. He knew his mom too well. She would do anything to protect her children - even the eldest, even though he was all grown up now. Trouble was, he didn't feel awfully grown up at the moment. All he felt like was a naughty child who had been caught doing something wrong - and the whole horrible memory of what had happened the previous night suddenly chose that moment to crash in on him, rendering him completely unable to function as an adult. Oh god … what he had done! What had he done? He'd let Joni … and then she'd … oh god …
Before he could even consider another thought, he had flung himself into his mother's arms, locking his own arms around her waist, burying his head in her shoulder. "Oh mom, I'm sorry," he sobbed, desperately. "I didn't know what she was gonna do! I swear I didn't! I couldn't stop her - I don't know why … mom, I'm sorry. Please don't send me away! I didn't do it on purpose, I swear! You know I'd never do anything like that on purpose - I'm sorry!"
Shirley was completely unnerved by this. She hugged Keith as close as she could, hearing his terror and desperation, feeling his slight body shudder continuously as he poured out his own horror at what had taken place, what he obviously still saw as his own mistake. Tears poured down her own face even whilst she tried to comfort his, rubbing his back tenderly, murmuring nonsense words into his ear in an effort to get him to calm down. But he was almost hysterical by now, a by-product, she guessed, of his ordeal and the remainder of the drugs and alcohol in his system. She didn't dare turn around to see the reactions of his brother and sister, although she could guess. Their own horror and anguish at what they were witnessing were almost tangible presences behind her. "Keith … " the name came out as practically a sob of its own and she tried again. "Keith, Keith, honey. It's okay. I know. We know what happened. Mr Novak told us. We know it wasn't your fault. I already told you that. Maybe you didn't remember? Keith - sweetheart, please calm down. You're not doing yourself any good getting upset about all this. Keith …"
Her words were having the calming effect she had hoped for as his sobs diminished, then finally died away altogether, until all she could hear were hitching breaths as his already tortured lungs laboured for air. He was limp in her arms, but his grip was still tight around her and she knew he was still conscious, although he was probably terribly embarrassed by breaking down in the way he had. Now all she had to do was explain to him that this was the result of his ordeal and the remnants of the drugs in his system. It was having a debilitating effect on his emotions - making them impossible to control. Not that he had ever been one to hold his feelings in. He had always been sensitive - it was one of the things she had always loved about him - and yet another trait he had shared with his late father. But being sensitive was one thing, this was another entirely. Holding him tightly, she turned her head to regard her other two children, who were standing huddled together in the middle of the room, tears tracks on their cheeks telling their own tale. Motioning with her eyes, she silently pleaded with them to leave the room whilst she tried to undo some of the damage which had been wrought here these last few moments. Thankfully, they took the hint and Danny led the way out, Laurie's hands on his shoulders.
As soon as the door had closed quietly behind his sister and brother, Keith lifted his head, regarding his mother with an expression of shame and guilt. The hazel eyes were not only ringed with dark shadows now, they were red from crying and she dabbed at them gently with the edge of the sheet, smiling sadly at him.
"Made … a real .. fool of myself, huh?" he said softly, trying a wry grin and only half succeeding.
Shirley couldn't help it. She hugged him hard, kissing the top of his head and mussing up the sleek brown hair with her hand. Then she let him go and eased him back into his pillow, keeping a grip on one hand to reassure him. "I think they understand," she replied, at length. "I know I do." She sighed heavily, preparing herself to launch into the reassurances she wasn't even sure she could convince herself of, let alone her son. He looked as weary as he sounded, and he clearly wasn't well yet. Every so often he would wince with pain, despite himself - he was clearly determined not to let her see how much he was hurting and it made her heart contract with love and anguish. "Keith, honey …"
"I know, I know …" he interrupted, quietly. "It wasn't my fault. I got … led into it. She duped me … you … don't have to explain, Mom." He turned his head away from her as he spoke, his voice sounding so defeated that she almost broke into tears again. It was acceptance, but not of the kind she had expected. Although he didn't blame himself for taking the heroin or getting drunk, he clearly held himself responsible for allowing himself to be fooled by Joni into trusting her. It was a trait he shared with his sister, she reflected, ruefully. And she would have to use the same argument to convince him of his own innocence in this.
"Keith, listen to me …"
"Why?" He turned his head on the pillow again to stare straight into her eyes. His gaze was clear and challenging. There were glints of anger in those hazel depths too. Anger at himself. This mustn't be allowed to fester - it could cause untold damage! "Mom, you don't have to tell me what … a dummy I was. I already know that. This … could all have been avoided. I let my … heart rule my head as usual and … look where it got me."
"And can you tell me exactly how you could have foreseen this?" she challenged him in return. "Keith, sweetheart, you are human. And you have all the frailties and faults of a human being - and I love you for them, " she added, stroking his hair, dismayed when he tried to pull away. "Keith, listen to me. I want you to stop blaming yourself for something that is entirely Joni's fault. She was the one who pursued you - and tell me how any young man, with his hormones raging out of control like young men's do - could possibly have said 'no' to her. Besides, as far as you knew you were only going to a party. And Mr Novak and his cameraman were going to be there from what I understand. They should have been looking out for you."
Keith winced at her tone. He could tell that she was not only furious at Joni for pulling this stunt, but was also pretty angry with Greg and Willie too. But it had not been Greg and Willie's fault. After all, he was supposed to be a grown up now. He was supposed to be able to look after himself - not 'let his hormones rage out of control' like she said. "I should've … been sensible," he muttered.
"Sensible?" she echoed incredulously. "Keith, no young man of your age is 'sensible' around girls - regardless of what responsibilities they have and how much common sense they show in other areas. You are not unique, my dear. Not in that respect, anyway. You see a pretty girl and - bam, something shuts off in your brain and another door opens - and I defy you to show me any boy of your age who doesn't behave like that with a girl - especially one who's as pretty as Joni was, and as 'accommodating'!"
"But …"
"But nothing. You acted just as any boy your age would. Keith, you can't blame yourself for being a normal human being who reacted in a normal human way - and I certainly won't allow you to blame yourself for what happened to you. She spiked your drink, honey. And then she injected you with heroin. Twice. You were helpless - you've never drunk before and alcohol can have a very different effect on everyone who drinks it. Obviously you were incapacitated and she took advantage of that."
That's not the only thing she took advantage of, he remembered with deep shame as his mother continued. He tried to smile at her, tried to look as if he was listening and taking in what she was saying, tried too to seem as if it was having the desired effect. But all he could remember now was that pleasant feeling of hands on his body and the way she had moved above him, making him feel wonderful. Yet it had felt so wrong - like he shouldn't be doing it, like he should be objecting. And he mourned too the fact that he had taken no real part in what she had done. It had all been initiated by her, even his body had been hers that night. His body, his mind - what else had she taken which was his? Unwittingly, he closed his eyes against the sudden surge of more tears, trying to block the memory of everything Joni had done to him, everything she had made him do - and found that he couldn't - and he suddenly felt nausea well up as the memories surged over and over like waves crashing violently on the shore.
Suddenly he was pushing away from his mother, yanking off the sheets and stumbling out of bed, intent on getting to the bathroom as his stomach roiled in protest against the memories. But his legs wouldn't hold him and he folded to the floor beside the bed, holding his protesting stomach and retching dryly.
"Keith!"
She was there beside him in an instant, her arms around him, holding him tight as he dry heaved. He curled into her arms, panting heavily as the retching continued. At length, it ceased, but he didn't move, instead leaning his head back into his mom's shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe. She was stroking his hair again and for the moment it felt good to have her hold him like this, protect him as she used to do when he was young. But he knew they couldn't stay there, knelt together on the floor. For one thing, he was beginning to grow uncomfortable - one leg had curled at an awkward angle underneath his body when he had collapsed - and besides, he couldn't lean on his mother forever. Sooner or later he was going to have to face the consequences of what he had allowed Joni to do. It didn't occur to him that he had already suffered the repercussions of her actions and he still didn't believe that he was not at least partly to blame. It was time to accept responsibility for everything and let his mother know just what had happened the night before - because he knew now that there was one detail that had been overlooked in the telling by Greg. And he had to tell her the whole truth - otherwise he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
As Keith slowly recovered and began to breathe a little easier, Shirley allowed herself to heave a sigh of relief. She had been appalled when he had broken away from her, collapsing to the floor beside the bed as he tried to escape. He seemed so fragile in her arms, almost insubstantial, yet she knew that was an illusion. It was just that he had suffered so badly for so many hours and lacked his usual strength. She could feel him trembling violently and held him tighter. For a moment she wished that she could hold him there forever, protection against everything and everyone. But he would never stand for that. All of her children had an independent streak - she supposed they got that from her. It was one of the things their late father had told her he had loved her for. How she missed him and his guidance now. But she was still here and she was going to give her son all the love and support he needed - despite what he might say.
"Better?" she enquired gently as his quivering eased and he relaxed against her, gripping her right arm tightly.
She felt him nod against her then he eased away from her and managed a shaky grin. It was gone in an instant though and something else entered his eyes. Guilt and - dread? "Keith?" she enquired, softly. "What is it?"
He lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I … I have to tell you something, Mom," he managed at last.
Shirley swallowed. As if they hadn't been through enough, there was something else? What could he have to tell her that would make him seem so ill at ease, so obviously frightened of her reaction? "Keith - what is it?"
There was a long moment of silence. In fact, the silence went on so long she wondered if had fallen asleep where he sat. He looked so tired, so drawn.
But a few moments later he took a deep breath and, finally looking up to meet her worried gaze, told her what else Joni had done whilst she had had him under her thrall - and the influence of the heroin. He spared her none of it, but had to look away again as he reached the end of his confession. He couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment in her eyes. The anger with which she must now be regarding him. His mother didn't speak at first when he had finished and he sighed sadly. That was it, then. He had failed her so badly that she couldn't find the words to tell him how she felt. Breaking free of her grip on him, he tried to struggle to his feet. His legs felt like jelly and he wasn't sure they would hold him, but he held onto the bed for support and slowly rose, fighting the dizziness which started to assail him as he did so. He would have fallen again but for the support of the arms which suddenly wound around him, helping him crawl back into bed. Then the sheet and bedspread were spread over him and as he was tucked in, he closed his eyes against the spinning of the room. He groaned and felt a hand on his forehead, then a voice asking him, "Keith, honey, are you all right? Do you want something to drink?"
Actually, he did feel terribly thirsty and he nodded. He kept his eyes closed, though, both as defence against the dizziness and because he still wasn't ready to face his mom. He felt very much like disappearing into a dark hole and never coming out again but the bed remained solid beneath him, no obliging holes opening up in which he could hide and before very long he felt his head lifted and a cool glass placed against his parched lips. He gulped the first few mouthfuls of the water. It was cool, refreshing and so sweet to his dry mouth and bruised throat - sore from all the retching earlier. Then he heard a voice telling him to slow down and take it easy or he'd be sick again and, ever mindful of his mother's advice in these matters, he did as he was told. He tried to hold the glass himself but his hands were shaking so badly that his mom maintained her grip on it and he subsided, letting her take care of him, still unable to face her.
Eventually he had drunk his fill and he shook his head when she asked if he wanted any more. She let go his head, placing it gently back on the pillows. Then he felt her move away slightly and heard the clink of the glass as it was placed on the nightstand. He swallowed, hard. There was a deathly quiet.
As she set the glass down, Shirley tried her best to compose herself. She felt sick inside. And incensed. If she had been furious before, now she was practically ready to erupt with rage. Not content with getting her son drunk and shooting him full of heroin - almost killing him in the process, that little shrew had then practically raped him as well.
She felt an unreasoning desire to tear the girl limb from limb and never mind the consequences - poetic justice for what she had done to Keith - what she had inflicted on him by way of the agony he had been forced to endure over these last few hours. What she had done to his body - violating it with drink, needles and herself. And what she had done to his psyche. For this was something else which had happened to him, not at his request, nor at his own volition, for which he felt immense guilt. When he had made his confession, pouring his heart out to her, his eyes had looked fearful - almost as if he expected her - his own mother - to abandon him here and now; walk away, too disappointed in him to stay. He was still feeling it now. That was why his eyes were closed, why he couldn't face her. Yet the person she blamed for all of this, the person who was ultimately responsible for everything that had happened to her beloved son had made her escape. She had tried to ruin a young man's life in every way she could - thinking only of her own selfish desires and not seeing him as a person at all. And here he was, her eldest, her rock in the hard times, the son she could always depend upon to come through when the chips were down, the one who had taken his father's death like a sock to the gut yet had helped her comfort the younger ones in the family - here he was, brought to this wreckage of a human being because of one vile girl's actions. Oh Keith …
"Honey .." Her voice broke as she spoke. This wouldn't do. She had to help him regain his strength - the strength of character he had always possessed - and she couldn't do that if she sounded like she was falling apart herself. "Keith. Look at me."
He had lain back in bed, flinging his arm over his eyes, shading them from the light. Hiding himself away. She put her hand on his arm, shaking it gently, not trying to force it away from his face, but just letting him know she was there. "Keith. I need you to look at me, sweetheart. I need to talk to you."
She knew what was going through his mind - she knew her children so well and her eldest was broadcasting so loudly his fear and anguish that she could practically see it bouncing off the walls of the room. She sighed heavily. This was going to take some time.
Laurie bit her lip as her brother mumbled something under his breath and then turned into her hand. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that she had heard him say 'mom'. He thought their mother was still here; in fact, seemed convinced of the fact. Guilt swept through her as she glanced over at Shirley, deep in repose on the sofa at the other end of the room. She was loathe to wake her when Keith wasn't even fully cognizent yet. On the other hand, she had promised to do so if he even showed signs of coming back to awareness. Heaving a deep sigh, she turned back to her older brother, continuing to weave her fingers slowly through the dark hair which lay like a shroud beneath that wan, tortured face. "It's okay, honey," she whispered. "Everything's gonna be okay. Mom's here - and we're here too. We won't leave you, Keith. I promise."
Danny, sitting on the big comfy chair beside the bed, his feet curled up underneath him, said nothing as he watched his older sister try to soothe Keith. The only thing he wanted in this world was his brother to wake up and talk to him, crack a few jokes, insult him or just plain chat to him. But that wasn't going to happen. Keith was still in pain. He could see that from the expression on his face. It looked like he was fighting it, but it was a losing battle and Danny felt Keith's agony rip its way through to his own soul. He wanted to help his brother. Wanted to do something to ease the torment. But there was nothing he could do to make the pain go away. Nothing he could say that would make things any better. And Keith wasn't just going to wake up, lay eyes on him and start cracking jokes. There were going to be no insults hurled today - and the redheaded Partridge found himself wondering - not for the first time since they had witnessed the awful events earlier that morning - if his older brother was ever going to insult him again. Whether he was ever going to recover from this. And if he didn't - what were they going to do? What was he going to do? He depended on Keith. To be there for him when things went wrong, as a partner in crime, as a target for his torments and sometimes as a tormentor himself. But more, he depended on him as his older brother, as someone who had always been there, as someone he leaned on, his pal, his co-conspirator, his hero. This was just so hard - sitting here, watching him whilst he suffered - and for no good reason. It wasn't like any of this was even his fault - uh, oh, Danny, he scolded himself. Don't go down that road again. His hatred of Joni had more or less settled down to a mild simmer now and he was in danger of stoking that fire and allowing it to blaze out of control. But if he ever got his hands on her …!
"It's not fair!" he suddenly yelled, leaping out of the chair to pace around the room restlessly. "Why should Keith have to suffer like this when that no good Joni's out there - probably having a good time?! I hate her! I wish she was dead! I wish …" To his chagrin, his words ended on a sob as he broke down in floods of tears of anger, frustration and helplessness. Laurie reacted as quickly as she could but not quickly enough to prevent her mother being awoken by Danny's outburst. The next second he was in his mother's arms, her hands running up and down in his back trying to comfort him.
"Danny," she crooned, softly. "Danny, hush. It's okay. Keith's going to be all right …"
"How d'you know that, Mom?" he wept, turning his tear-streaked face upwards. "He's in such pain - and she's got away! She doesn't deserve to be free! He doesn't deserve this .. I - I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to … I mean …" He couldn't complete the sentence. Just voicing it might be enough to make it come true.
"Nothing's going to happen to Keith, Danny," Laurie said, firmly, leaving Keith's side to come to stand beside their mother and younger brother. "He's going to be just fine. You can believe mom when she tells you that. She wouldn't lie. The doctor said he was going to be fine - that's what you said, mom , isn't it?"
Shirley nodded. "Yes," she said, trying to hold her own tears in check at her children's obvious distress. Danny was still sobbing in her arms and she could see that Laurie was having a hard time holding herself together. Tears were glinting in her verdant green eyes and her lower lip was trembling. But she was trying to be brave for Danny, and for herself. Trying to believe that everything would be all right. That Keith would recover from all of this, that everything would eventually return to normal. And Shirley loved her for that. But she was having a hard time trying to convince herself of the same things. Especially when she glanced across at the bed to see that pale, limp figure lying so pitifully beneath the sheets. God, when would this nightmare end?
*****
Keith heard voices echoing through a long, dark tunnel. At first it all sounded like one loud, confused melee, then, gradually, he began to make out individual sounds. Someone was crying. That much he could tell. He didn't know who it was, although he felt he should recognise the voice. It sounded familiar, yet he had never heard it sound quite that wretched before. And in between sobs he could hear his own name. Whatever was wrong it sounded like it was about him. And there were other voices, muted, comforting sounds, although there were signs of distress in those voices, too. Like everyone in the world was crying and he had been left out of the loop. But the world wasn't crying. There were only three voices. Three voices which belonged to his world and they seemed to be crying about him. He puzzled over this for some moments before finally coming to a grim conclusion. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he was already dead. But if he was dead, would he be able to hear those sounds? Would he still be able to feel the pain which was still mounting an offensive on every nerve ending, every joint, every muscle? It still hurt to breathe, too and … he was breathing. Therefore he couldn't be dead. Was he dying? Was that it? He was dying and no-one wanted to tell him? Oh god .. but he still had so much left to do. He had his whole life to live! It wasn't fair! He couldn't die yet! He couldn't just leave his mom, Laurie, Danny, Chris and Tracy. He didn't want to say goodbye to them .. he was too young! Oh please, god, don't take me yet, he prayed, even as his eyes fluttered open and stared blearily in shocked surprise at the scene in front of him.
"Mom …?"
The plaintive sound reached Shirley's ears even above Danny's weeping and Laurie's soft, reassuring voice. Relinquishing her hold of Danny to his eldest sister, she was beside the bed in an instant, leaning over her eldest son, who was staring up at her with fear in his big brown eyes. "I'm here, sweetheart," she said, softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly. "It's all right, Keith, baby. I'm here."
It took a little time for him to get out the words he feared to say but eventually … "Mom, am I gonna die?"
Now it was her turn to stare at him in shock. He must have overheard Danny or perhaps got the idea from Danny's words - then again, it wouldn't be hard for him to come to this dreadful conclusion if he had woken up to find them all crying over him as had seemed to be the case. Her hand trembled as it touched his face - which, she noted with a moment's relief, was now a normal temperature - and she tried to smile reassuringly. "Oh, Keith, no, no, you're not going to die. You're just going through some pain right now because of the drugs you were given by Joni. But you're not going to die. Do you believe me?"
He didn't know what to think. She looked so sincere, but she could be lying to protect him. He knew his mom too well. She would do anything to protect her children - even the eldest, even though he was all grown up now. Trouble was, he didn't feel awfully grown up at the moment. All he felt like was a naughty child who had been caught doing something wrong - and the whole horrible memory of what had happened the previous night suddenly chose that moment to crash in on him, rendering him completely unable to function as an adult. Oh god … what he had done! What had he done? He'd let Joni … and then she'd … oh god …
Before he could even consider another thought, he had flung himself into his mother's arms, locking his own arms around her waist, burying his head in her shoulder. "Oh mom, I'm sorry," he sobbed, desperately. "I didn't know what she was gonna do! I swear I didn't! I couldn't stop her - I don't know why … mom, I'm sorry. Please don't send me away! I didn't do it on purpose, I swear! You know I'd never do anything like that on purpose - I'm sorry!"
Shirley was completely unnerved by this. She hugged Keith as close as she could, hearing his terror and desperation, feeling his slight body shudder continuously as he poured out his own horror at what had taken place, what he obviously still saw as his own mistake. Tears poured down her own face even whilst she tried to comfort his, rubbing his back tenderly, murmuring nonsense words into his ear in an effort to get him to calm down. But he was almost hysterical by now, a by-product, she guessed, of his ordeal and the remainder of the drugs and alcohol in his system. She didn't dare turn around to see the reactions of his brother and sister, although she could guess. Their own horror and anguish at what they were witnessing were almost tangible presences behind her. "Keith … " the name came out as practically a sob of its own and she tried again. "Keith, Keith, honey. It's okay. I know. We know what happened. Mr Novak told us. We know it wasn't your fault. I already told you that. Maybe you didn't remember? Keith - sweetheart, please calm down. You're not doing yourself any good getting upset about all this. Keith …"
Her words were having the calming effect she had hoped for as his sobs diminished, then finally died away altogether, until all she could hear were hitching breaths as his already tortured lungs laboured for air. He was limp in her arms, but his grip was still tight around her and she knew he was still conscious, although he was probably terribly embarrassed by breaking down in the way he had. Now all she had to do was explain to him that this was the result of his ordeal and the remnants of the drugs in his system. It was having a debilitating effect on his emotions - making them impossible to control. Not that he had ever been one to hold his feelings in. He had always been sensitive - it was one of the things she had always loved about him - and yet another trait he had shared with his late father. But being sensitive was one thing, this was another entirely. Holding him tightly, she turned her head to regard her other two children, who were standing huddled together in the middle of the room, tears tracks on their cheeks telling their own tale. Motioning with her eyes, she silently pleaded with them to leave the room whilst she tried to undo some of the damage which had been wrought here these last few moments. Thankfully, they took the hint and Danny led the way out, Laurie's hands on his shoulders.
As soon as the door had closed quietly behind his sister and brother, Keith lifted his head, regarding his mother with an expression of shame and guilt. The hazel eyes were not only ringed with dark shadows now, they were red from crying and she dabbed at them gently with the edge of the sheet, smiling sadly at him.
"Made … a real .. fool of myself, huh?" he said softly, trying a wry grin and only half succeeding.
Shirley couldn't help it. She hugged him hard, kissing the top of his head and mussing up the sleek brown hair with her hand. Then she let him go and eased him back into his pillow, keeping a grip on one hand to reassure him. "I think they understand," she replied, at length. "I know I do." She sighed heavily, preparing herself to launch into the reassurances she wasn't even sure she could convince herself of, let alone her son. He looked as weary as he sounded, and he clearly wasn't well yet. Every so often he would wince with pain, despite himself - he was clearly determined not to let her see how much he was hurting and it made her heart contract with love and anguish. "Keith, honey …"
"I know, I know …" he interrupted, quietly. "It wasn't my fault. I got … led into it. She duped me … you … don't have to explain, Mom." He turned his head away from her as he spoke, his voice sounding so defeated that she almost broke into tears again. It was acceptance, but not of the kind she had expected. Although he didn't blame himself for taking the heroin or getting drunk, he clearly held himself responsible for allowing himself to be fooled by Joni into trusting her. It was a trait he shared with his sister, she reflected, ruefully. And she would have to use the same argument to convince him of his own innocence in this.
"Keith, listen to me …"
"Why?" He turned his head on the pillow again to stare straight into her eyes. His gaze was clear and challenging. There were glints of anger in those hazel depths too. Anger at himself. This mustn't be allowed to fester - it could cause untold damage! "Mom, you don't have to tell me what … a dummy I was. I already know that. This … could all have been avoided. I let my … heart rule my head as usual and … look where it got me."
"And can you tell me exactly how you could have foreseen this?" she challenged him in return. "Keith, sweetheart, you are human. And you have all the frailties and faults of a human being - and I love you for them, " she added, stroking his hair, dismayed when he tried to pull away. "Keith, listen to me. I want you to stop blaming yourself for something that is entirely Joni's fault. She was the one who pursued you - and tell me how any young man, with his hormones raging out of control like young men's do - could possibly have said 'no' to her. Besides, as far as you knew you were only going to a party. And Mr Novak and his cameraman were going to be there from what I understand. They should have been looking out for you."
Keith winced at her tone. He could tell that she was not only furious at Joni for pulling this stunt, but was also pretty angry with Greg and Willie too. But it had not been Greg and Willie's fault. After all, he was supposed to be a grown up now. He was supposed to be able to look after himself - not 'let his hormones rage out of control' like she said. "I should've … been sensible," he muttered.
"Sensible?" she echoed incredulously. "Keith, no young man of your age is 'sensible' around girls - regardless of what responsibilities they have and how much common sense they show in other areas. You are not unique, my dear. Not in that respect, anyway. You see a pretty girl and - bam, something shuts off in your brain and another door opens - and I defy you to show me any boy of your age who doesn't behave like that with a girl - especially one who's as pretty as Joni was, and as 'accommodating'!"
"But …"
"But nothing. You acted just as any boy your age would. Keith, you can't blame yourself for being a normal human being who reacted in a normal human way - and I certainly won't allow you to blame yourself for what happened to you. She spiked your drink, honey. And then she injected you with heroin. Twice. You were helpless - you've never drunk before and alcohol can have a very different effect on everyone who drinks it. Obviously you were incapacitated and she took advantage of that."
That's not the only thing she took advantage of, he remembered with deep shame as his mother continued. He tried to smile at her, tried to look as if he was listening and taking in what she was saying, tried too to seem as if it was having the desired effect. But all he could remember now was that pleasant feeling of hands on his body and the way she had moved above him, making him feel wonderful. Yet it had felt so wrong - like he shouldn't be doing it, like he should be objecting. And he mourned too the fact that he had taken no real part in what she had done. It had all been initiated by her, even his body had been hers that night. His body, his mind - what else had she taken which was his? Unwittingly, he closed his eyes against the sudden surge of more tears, trying to block the memory of everything Joni had done to him, everything she had made him do - and found that he couldn't - and he suddenly felt nausea well up as the memories surged over and over like waves crashing violently on the shore.
Suddenly he was pushing away from his mother, yanking off the sheets and stumbling out of bed, intent on getting to the bathroom as his stomach roiled in protest against the memories. But his legs wouldn't hold him and he folded to the floor beside the bed, holding his protesting stomach and retching dryly.
"Keith!"
She was there beside him in an instant, her arms around him, holding him tight as he dry heaved. He curled into her arms, panting heavily as the retching continued. At length, it ceased, but he didn't move, instead leaning his head back into his mom's shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe. She was stroking his hair again and for the moment it felt good to have her hold him like this, protect him as she used to do when he was young. But he knew they couldn't stay there, knelt together on the floor. For one thing, he was beginning to grow uncomfortable - one leg had curled at an awkward angle underneath his body when he had collapsed - and besides, he couldn't lean on his mother forever. Sooner or later he was going to have to face the consequences of what he had allowed Joni to do. It didn't occur to him that he had already suffered the repercussions of her actions and he still didn't believe that he was not at least partly to blame. It was time to accept responsibility for everything and let his mother know just what had happened the night before - because he knew now that there was one detail that had been overlooked in the telling by Greg. And he had to tell her the whole truth - otherwise he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
As Keith slowly recovered and began to breathe a little easier, Shirley allowed herself to heave a sigh of relief. She had been appalled when he had broken away from her, collapsing to the floor beside the bed as he tried to escape. He seemed so fragile in her arms, almost insubstantial, yet she knew that was an illusion. It was just that he had suffered so badly for so many hours and lacked his usual strength. She could feel him trembling violently and held him tighter. For a moment she wished that she could hold him there forever, protection against everything and everyone. But he would never stand for that. All of her children had an independent streak - she supposed they got that from her. It was one of the things their late father had told her he had loved her for. How she missed him and his guidance now. But she was still here and she was going to give her son all the love and support he needed - despite what he might say.
"Better?" she enquired gently as his quivering eased and he relaxed against her, gripping her right arm tightly.
She felt him nod against her then he eased away from her and managed a shaky grin. It was gone in an instant though and something else entered his eyes. Guilt and - dread? "Keith?" she enquired, softly. "What is it?"
He lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I … I have to tell you something, Mom," he managed at last.
Shirley swallowed. As if they hadn't been through enough, there was something else? What could he have to tell her that would make him seem so ill at ease, so obviously frightened of her reaction? "Keith - what is it?"
There was a long moment of silence. In fact, the silence went on so long she wondered if had fallen asleep where he sat. He looked so tired, so drawn.
But a few moments later he took a deep breath and, finally looking up to meet her worried gaze, told her what else Joni had done whilst she had had him under her thrall - and the influence of the heroin. He spared her none of it, but had to look away again as he reached the end of his confession. He couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment in her eyes. The anger with which she must now be regarding him. His mother didn't speak at first when he had finished and he sighed sadly. That was it, then. He had failed her so badly that she couldn't find the words to tell him how she felt. Breaking free of her grip on him, he tried to struggle to his feet. His legs felt like jelly and he wasn't sure they would hold him, but he held onto the bed for support and slowly rose, fighting the dizziness which started to assail him as he did so. He would have fallen again but for the support of the arms which suddenly wound around him, helping him crawl back into bed. Then the sheet and bedspread were spread over him and as he was tucked in, he closed his eyes against the spinning of the room. He groaned and felt a hand on his forehead, then a voice asking him, "Keith, honey, are you all right? Do you want something to drink?"
Actually, he did feel terribly thirsty and he nodded. He kept his eyes closed, though, both as defence against the dizziness and because he still wasn't ready to face his mom. He felt very much like disappearing into a dark hole and never coming out again but the bed remained solid beneath him, no obliging holes opening up in which he could hide and before very long he felt his head lifted and a cool glass placed against his parched lips. He gulped the first few mouthfuls of the water. It was cool, refreshing and so sweet to his dry mouth and bruised throat - sore from all the retching earlier. Then he heard a voice telling him to slow down and take it easy or he'd be sick again and, ever mindful of his mother's advice in these matters, he did as he was told. He tried to hold the glass himself but his hands were shaking so badly that his mom maintained her grip on it and he subsided, letting her take care of him, still unable to face her.
Eventually he had drunk his fill and he shook his head when she asked if he wanted any more. She let go his head, placing it gently back on the pillows. Then he felt her move away slightly and heard the clink of the glass as it was placed on the nightstand. He swallowed, hard. There was a deathly quiet.
As she set the glass down, Shirley tried her best to compose herself. She felt sick inside. And incensed. If she had been furious before, now she was practically ready to erupt with rage. Not content with getting her son drunk and shooting him full of heroin - almost killing him in the process, that little shrew had then practically raped him as well.
She felt an unreasoning desire to tear the girl limb from limb and never mind the consequences - poetic justice for what she had done to Keith - what she had inflicted on him by way of the agony he had been forced to endure over these last few hours. What she had done to his body - violating it with drink, needles and herself. And what she had done to his psyche. For this was something else which had happened to him, not at his request, nor at his own volition, for which he felt immense guilt. When he had made his confession, pouring his heart out to her, his eyes had looked fearful - almost as if he expected her - his own mother - to abandon him here and now; walk away, too disappointed in him to stay. He was still feeling it now. That was why his eyes were closed, why he couldn't face her. Yet the person she blamed for all of this, the person who was ultimately responsible for everything that had happened to her beloved son had made her escape. She had tried to ruin a young man's life in every way she could - thinking only of her own selfish desires and not seeing him as a person at all. And here he was, her eldest, her rock in the hard times, the son she could always depend upon to come through when the chips were down, the one who had taken his father's death like a sock to the gut yet had helped her comfort the younger ones in the family - here he was, brought to this wreckage of a human being because of one vile girl's actions. Oh Keith …
"Honey .." Her voice broke as she spoke. This wouldn't do. She had to help him regain his strength - the strength of character he had always possessed - and she couldn't do that if she sounded like she was falling apart herself. "Keith. Look at me."
He had lain back in bed, flinging his arm over his eyes, shading them from the light. Hiding himself away. She put her hand on his arm, shaking it gently, not trying to force it away from his face, but just letting him know she was there. "Keith. I need you to look at me, sweetheart. I need to talk to you."
She knew what was going through his mind - she knew her children so well and her eldest was broadcasting so loudly his fear and anguish that she could practically see it bouncing off the walls of the room. She sighed heavily. This was going to take some time.