CHAPTER FOUR
Laurie was partly right. Keith Partridge had been just another faceless, nameless person on the Las Vegas strip; until he entered the restaurant. He'd planned on just being in and out with a takeout order, and while the going in was easy enough, getting out was another matter entirely.
He placed his order and was told by the kid at the counter that it would be a fifteen minute wait. Not exactly wanting to sit down, Keith wandered over to the magazine rack sitting near the counter and picked up a copy of Rolling Stone. As he thumbed through it, he heard his name cried in that all-too-familiar female tone and instinctively, he looked up.
A booth full of four or five young girls rose as one, reaching in his direction, their faces full of emotion and he tossed the magazine aside, looking confusedly for the door. Crap; maybe he shouldn't have showered and cleaned up after all!
He knew he would never be able to outrun them; not with his back hurting the way it was, so he did the next best thing. He stopped, turning to them, holding his hands out as they came rushing toward him.
"Ladies, ladies," he shouted, still backing toward the door. He made a 'time-out' signal with his hands and surprisingly, they skidded to a stop right before they reached him. "Look, I'd love to give you my autograph, but let's not make a scene here, okay?" He looked over at the rest of the patrons, who were gaping at him, as were the employees. The kid at the counter was no less bewildered, and Keith gave everyone a dimpled smile. For a brief second, he considered taking his whole little entourage into the parking lot, but figured he'd be a little safer here, surrounded by onlookers. "Okay, now, let's be civil here. Anybody have a pen?" He looked over at the order taker, who dumbly handed his pen over. "Thanks," Keith told him, turning back to the girls. "One at a time, now." Amazingly, the girls complied with his request, encircling him as he quickly signed his name to the scraps of paper, mostly napkins from the table, they produced. It was amazing how, over the years, he'd learned the tricks of the trade. He'd turned a near mob scene into a serene, short-lived autograph session with just a few calm words.
After it was over, the restaurant manager ushered the girls out the door, then turned to Keith, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about that, Mr. Partridge. Your food will, of course, be on the house."
"No, no, that's okay. No harm done," Keith smiled wearily as his order was brought to the counter.
"I insist," the manager put his hand on Keith's arm as he drew his wallet from his back pocket.
Another dimple. "Thank you, but my mother always taught me to pay my own way."
"There is another way you could pay," the man said rather slyly.
"Really? How?"
He produced a menu. "Sign this. My daughter will kill me if I let you go without your autograph."
Keith laughed, nodding.
****
Danny pushed his way through McCarren Airport, the bag on his shoulder growing heavier with each step. He'd overpacked again, he always did. He knew he should have checked the bag on, but worries over Keith's well being had clouded his mind. Chris's phone call was an answer to a prayer, even with the not-so-pleasant details. What in God's name was Keith doing in a flea-bag motel, for one thing? The guy had enough dough to book the most luxurious suite at any of the big named hotels! It had to be the lack of medication; otherwise, Keith would never put himself in such circumstances. Danny just hoped he was all right, but from Chris's assessment of their brother's distressed call to him, Keith was bad shape, physically, and obviously, mentally as well.
His stomach tightening, Danny found himself outside of the airport, waving down a cab. Dammit, Keith, he thought, why are you torturing yourself, your family?
A cab pulled to the curb and the driver got out, taking Danny's bag and asked his destination. The look on the man's face when Danny answered was enough to make him curse his brother under his breath once again.
****
Keith was realizing that the walk to the restaurant was not the answer to rid himself of the pain, for it was back and worse than ever by the time he reached the motel room. He fumbled for the key as the latest surge struck and he moaned, sinking slowly to the cracked cement just in front of the door. Wave after wave of pain began to batter him, and he huddled there against the door, enduring it for the most part, but weakening with every new rush that swept over him. It made him incognizant for the moment, and he neither saw nor heard the cab pulling into the parking lot behind him.
Seeing his brother on the ground, completely incapacitated, made Danny's stomach knot once again. The car had barely stopped before he pushed open the door and began running toward him.
"Keith!"
Funny, it sounded like Danny's voice…Keith thought through the haze of pain.
"My god, Keith!" Danny put a hand on Keith's shoulder and gaped when he saw the agony in the exquisitely handsome features he'd been so jealous of all these years.
"Danny?" Keith asked weakly, still foggy from the pain.
"Come on, man, let's get you to the hospital!" Danny bent down, trying to get his hands under Keith's arms, but his brother fought him off, even in his misery.
"No! I just want to go inside…I'll rest and it will stop…"
"Damn it, Keith, listen to me! Chris wants you in the hospital! He's gonna meet us there - "
"No!" Keith cried again. "Just leave me alone! Get away from me…"
Frustrated, Danny straightened. He started back for the cab, where the driver was retrieving his luggage.
"Want me to wait? I've gotta charge you."
Glancing back at Keith, Danny shook his
head. "No, I guess not." He pulled his wallet out, handing the man a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks, and keep the change."
The driver grinned. "Thanks, pal. And…uh, good luck," he nodded toward Keith's inert figure in front of the door.
Danny smiled, hoisting his bag. "Thanks, I'm gonna need it."
He watched the cab turn around and leave, then went back to Keith as he still shuddered with pain. Noticing the containers from the restaurant sitting nearby, Danny smiled.
"At least you're feeding yourself. Mom was worried about that."
Keith closed his eyes. Mom. What would she think if she could see him, now?
Danny's hand was on his shoulder, now, as he bent beside him once again. "Come on, let's go in before the cops come and arrest you for vagrancy."
Relenting, Keith allowed Danny to pull him to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain the motion was causing. His hand trembled as he pulled the key from his front pocket and Danny took it from him, trying to steady his brother and open the door at the same time.
When the door opened, revealing the shabby surroundings, Danny almost swore out loud, but held his tongue. Grabbing Keith around the waist, he got him to the bed and eased him down, still staring at the condition of the room. Had Keith completely lost his mind?
A groan from the bed brought his attention back to his brother. "I brought some aspirin with me. It probably won't help much, but Chris said you were out of your painkillers."
Curled up on the bed, Keith winced. "Sure, Danny, anything…there's some cups in the bathroom…"
Danny ventured inside the bathroom, still disgusted with what he saw. Filling a plastic cup with water from the sink, Danny held it up for a close inspection, as if he expected to find treasure in there or something. Shaking his head, he went back into the other room. Keith had managed to sit up, now, and Danny quickly got into his bag to get the aspirin. Handing the water to Keith, the younger man pried off the lid and dumped two tablets into Keith's hand. Watching him down them, Danny sat down on the edge of the bed.
"So, Keith," he said off-handedly. "Stevie Wonder decorate this place?"
Keith pulled a face. "I couldn't exactly check into the Hilton. I wanted to keep a low profile."
Danny nodded. "This is low, all right."
"Never mind the snide remarks. What are you doing here?"
"Question is, what are YOU doing here? You realize you've got three very hysterical females in San Pueblo wondering what the hell you think you're doing?"
Keith sighed. "What, Mom didn't call the President, too? I told her I was going to take a sabbatical."
Danny laughed. "You call this a sabbatical? The dregs of society wouldn't come here. They'd have to redecorate it to condemn it."
Keith laid back down, pain clawing at him from every direction. Danny noticed the look on his face and his expression softened.
"You're really out of remission, huh?"
Keith nodded silently, staring at a stain on the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain and hoping Danny couldn't see it in his eyes. "Yeah," he finally gulped. "Back to square one."
"Maybe they can strengthen the doses, put you on more milligrams of whatever it is you're taking - "
"No," Keith almost moaned, his voice bitter. "I'm not gonna fight any more."
Danny stared at him. "That's crazy."
Keith's eyes met his brother's. "Crazier than puking for hours on end? Crazier than having my resistance get so low I can't even catch a freakin' cold for fear of pneumonia? I am going to die, Danny. There's no getting around that. I'm gonna go anyway, I might as well do it fully conscious."
Danny blinked and looked away. He hated it when Keith was like this, talking about death. The only person ever to die on him was their father, and Danny was so young at the time, he really couldn't remember. He knew it had been quick; one moment he was there, and the next he wasn't. But Keith…
Danny pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to his brother. It was silent in the room, until Danny whirled on him, fire in his eyes.
"I am NOT gonna sit here and listen to you give up on yourself! Not when there're things that can be done." He leaped on the bed, grabbing his brother's shirtfront. "I don't care what YOU want. I want you to fight this, and by damned, I will do everything in my power to see it happen, understand?"
Surprise at Danny's boldness quickly turned to anger, as Keith yanked Danny's hand away, moving painfully out from under his presence. "You're the one who doesn't understand. You don't have to live with the pain, the nausea; the fear…" He managed to sit up, then, shivering and holding his arms, he hunched forward. The pain was intense and he fought it, the color draining from his face.
Danny swallowed. "Oh, god, Keith, I'm sorry…did I hurt you?"
Keith shook his head quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. The tears were spilling harder, now, and Keith couldn't help but sob.
Danny got up, rounding the bed and putting an arm around his brother's bony shoulders. "It's okay, buddy…I'm here. We'll get through this somehow…" He gently pulled Keith into him, letting him cry against his chest, and fought tears himself.
****
Chris stared open-mouthed at the motel as his taxi pulled into the parking lot. THIS was to where Keith had run? Looking at the paper where he'd scribbled the name of the place that his brother had given him, he double-checked the weathered sign. Sunset Inn; it was the right name, but…
He cleared his throat. "Uh, sir, I think there's a mistake here. Is there another Sunset Inn in town?"
The driver glanced back at his young passenger. "Not that I know of. Look, kid, you told me Sunset Inn and this is it. You want out here or not?"
Chris took a deep breath. They'd already been over to the hospital, but Keith and Danny weren't there. If this was another wild goose chase… "Yes, I guess I do. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
The driver shrugged, bringing the car to a stop. "No problem. Your tab's thirty bucks. That includes the little side trip to the hospital."
Chris nodded, producing the money with a five dollar tip on top. "Thank you."
"Need me to wait, sonny? I have a feeling this ain't what you wanted, either."
"No, it's okay. I'm hoping you're right, but something tells me you're not. Thanks."
They both got out of the car and the driver opened the trunk, grabbing Chris's bag. Chris took it, and was still staring at the neglected, decaying row of buildings in front of him when the cab drove off, leaving him there in the weed infested parking lot. Again, he looked down at the paper in his hand. Sunset Inn, Room 14. Swallowing, Chris forced his feet forward. Please God, he prayed, let this all be a mistake…
He found the room easily and hesitantly raised his hand, knocking on the scuffed door. Half expecting a large man in a filthy t-shirt with a beer can in his hand to answer, he was pleasantly surprised to see Danny's face peer out at him.
"Danny!"
Danny glanced behind him, then slipped out the door, closing it softly, but not letting it catch. "Shhh, he just fell asleep!"
Chris nodded, lowering his bag. "Is he okay?"
"Not really. He won't go to the hospital. I tried, man."
"Is he in pain?"
"Yeah, but he still refuses to go. He's giving up; said he's not fighting it any more. I think it's the pain talking."
Chris's eyes scanned their surroundings. "It's GOT to be the pain. Look at where we are!"
Danny grinned. "My thoughts, exactly. He said he wanted to keep a low profile, and for that I can't blame him. He'd have no peace if he tried checking into a fancy hotel."
"But this…this…rat hole!" Chris winced, noting the crack in the window and the huge dent in the door.
"Not exactly Keith Partridge caliber, is it? I keep wondering just how many guys have bit the dust in this room alone!"
Chris shuddered at Danny's inference. "We've got to convince him to get over to the hospital, Danny. Maybe his doctor in O.C. was wrong about the remission. It happens, you know."
"Yeah, I guess it does. Maybe you can tell by giving him the once over." Danny nodded, opening the door wider. "The room's worse than it looks, by the way."
Chris felt dizzy looking at the room before him, but when his eyes settled on his older brother asleep on the bed, the dizziness turned to disconsolation. Keith almost looked like death warmed over, and he had to force a smile for Danny's benefit.
He moved past the red-head into the room and Danny softly closed the door. The boys kept their voices muted, so as not to awaken their brother.
"We've got to get him out of here," Chris whispered.
"I was going to get us a room somewhere else, but I thought I'd wait and see what you wanted to do. If he goes into the hospital, I am NOT staying here, that's for sure." Danny shoved his hands in his pockets.
Chris agreed silently, his eyes wide. "Did you fill Mom in?"
"No; I don't know what to say, or how to say it. No use freaking her out. I don't think we should tell her about this place."
"You've got that right." Chris noticed the aspirin bottle on the table. "This is what he's been taking?"
Danny nodded. "I brought them from home. I don't think they're helping much."
"He definitely needs something stronger. Another reason to get him over to the hospital," Chris stated, frowning. Looking down at the sleeping Keith, he sighed. "He doesn't look good, Danny. Not good at all. Let's call a cab and get him over there."
Danny smiled. "Why not an ambulance?"
"Because he'd never forgive us."
"He might not forgive us for the cab, either."
Chris shrugged. "Then we don't have anything to lose, do we?" He grabbed the phone book as Danny looked nervous.
"Wait. Don't you think we should at least tell him what we're doing?"
"And have him shoot us down in mid-air? No, we've got to make it like he has no choice, which he doesn't." Chris started thumbing through the book.
"Forget it."
The words, low and bitter, came from the bed and Chris and Danny turned to see Keith roll over and look hard at them.
"You said he was asleep!" Chris hissed at Danny.
"He was…I thought…" Danny stammered.
"I was, until you two knuckleheads barged in here." Keith pushed himself up. "You can put the book down, Chris. I'm not going to the hospital." He winced, easing his legs to the floor.
"You could at least go and get a second opinion. Doctors can be wrong, you know," Chris told him, observing him closely.
Keith forced a guttural laugh. "Haven't met one yet that has been. Danny, hand me the aspirin, will you?"
Danny picked up the bottle, doing as he was told as Chris circled around the bed.
"That can't be helping your pain."
Keith looked up, his expression weary. "Sure it is. A little."
Chris sat down next to him, starting an impromptu examination, peering into his eyes, feeling his neck. Putting his hand under Keith's arm, he glanced up at Danny, then back at Keith. "Come on, Keith. Let's go over to Desert Springs. Now."
Keith swallowed. "Why? What's wrong?"
Danny smirked. "I thought you didn't care."
Chris silenced him with a daggered look. "Your node's a little swollen. Nothing to be alarmed about, but I want you checked out. Just to be safe."
Keith's eyes went from Chris's face to Danny's. "I don't know…I'm…I'm just so tired of this."
Chris squeezed Keith's wrist, his hand closing almost entirely around it. "I know, buddy. But we can get your meds renewed and get you out of pain for a while."
Taking a deep breath, Keith nodded, relenting. "Okay."
Grinning, Danny grabbed the phone book and the receiver.
Laurie was partly right. Keith Partridge had been just another faceless, nameless person on the Las Vegas strip; until he entered the restaurant. He'd planned on just being in and out with a takeout order, and while the going in was easy enough, getting out was another matter entirely.
He placed his order and was told by the kid at the counter that it would be a fifteen minute wait. Not exactly wanting to sit down, Keith wandered over to the magazine rack sitting near the counter and picked up a copy of Rolling Stone. As he thumbed through it, he heard his name cried in that all-too-familiar female tone and instinctively, he looked up.
A booth full of four or five young girls rose as one, reaching in his direction, their faces full of emotion and he tossed the magazine aside, looking confusedly for the door. Crap; maybe he shouldn't have showered and cleaned up after all!
He knew he would never be able to outrun them; not with his back hurting the way it was, so he did the next best thing. He stopped, turning to them, holding his hands out as they came rushing toward him.
"Ladies, ladies," he shouted, still backing toward the door. He made a 'time-out' signal with his hands and surprisingly, they skidded to a stop right before they reached him. "Look, I'd love to give you my autograph, but let's not make a scene here, okay?" He looked over at the rest of the patrons, who were gaping at him, as were the employees. The kid at the counter was no less bewildered, and Keith gave everyone a dimpled smile. For a brief second, he considered taking his whole little entourage into the parking lot, but figured he'd be a little safer here, surrounded by onlookers. "Okay, now, let's be civil here. Anybody have a pen?" He looked over at the order taker, who dumbly handed his pen over. "Thanks," Keith told him, turning back to the girls. "One at a time, now." Amazingly, the girls complied with his request, encircling him as he quickly signed his name to the scraps of paper, mostly napkins from the table, they produced. It was amazing how, over the years, he'd learned the tricks of the trade. He'd turned a near mob scene into a serene, short-lived autograph session with just a few calm words.
After it was over, the restaurant manager ushered the girls out the door, then turned to Keith, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about that, Mr. Partridge. Your food will, of course, be on the house."
"No, no, that's okay. No harm done," Keith smiled wearily as his order was brought to the counter.
"I insist," the manager put his hand on Keith's arm as he drew his wallet from his back pocket.
Another dimple. "Thank you, but my mother always taught me to pay my own way."
"There is another way you could pay," the man said rather slyly.
"Really? How?"
He produced a menu. "Sign this. My daughter will kill me if I let you go without your autograph."
Keith laughed, nodding.
****
Danny pushed his way through McCarren Airport, the bag on his shoulder growing heavier with each step. He'd overpacked again, he always did. He knew he should have checked the bag on, but worries over Keith's well being had clouded his mind. Chris's phone call was an answer to a prayer, even with the not-so-pleasant details. What in God's name was Keith doing in a flea-bag motel, for one thing? The guy had enough dough to book the most luxurious suite at any of the big named hotels! It had to be the lack of medication; otherwise, Keith would never put himself in such circumstances. Danny just hoped he was all right, but from Chris's assessment of their brother's distressed call to him, Keith was bad shape, physically, and obviously, mentally as well.
His stomach tightening, Danny found himself outside of the airport, waving down a cab. Dammit, Keith, he thought, why are you torturing yourself, your family?
A cab pulled to the curb and the driver got out, taking Danny's bag and asked his destination. The look on the man's face when Danny answered was enough to make him curse his brother under his breath once again.
****
Keith was realizing that the walk to the restaurant was not the answer to rid himself of the pain, for it was back and worse than ever by the time he reached the motel room. He fumbled for the key as the latest surge struck and he moaned, sinking slowly to the cracked cement just in front of the door. Wave after wave of pain began to batter him, and he huddled there against the door, enduring it for the most part, but weakening with every new rush that swept over him. It made him incognizant for the moment, and he neither saw nor heard the cab pulling into the parking lot behind him.
Seeing his brother on the ground, completely incapacitated, made Danny's stomach knot once again. The car had barely stopped before he pushed open the door and began running toward him.
"Keith!"
Funny, it sounded like Danny's voice…Keith thought through the haze of pain.
"My god, Keith!" Danny put a hand on Keith's shoulder and gaped when he saw the agony in the exquisitely handsome features he'd been so jealous of all these years.
"Danny?" Keith asked weakly, still foggy from the pain.
"Come on, man, let's get you to the hospital!" Danny bent down, trying to get his hands under Keith's arms, but his brother fought him off, even in his misery.
"No! I just want to go inside…I'll rest and it will stop…"
"Damn it, Keith, listen to me! Chris wants you in the hospital! He's gonna meet us there - "
"No!" Keith cried again. "Just leave me alone! Get away from me…"
Frustrated, Danny straightened. He started back for the cab, where the driver was retrieving his luggage.
"Want me to wait? I've gotta charge you."
Glancing back at Keith, Danny shook his
head. "No, I guess not." He pulled his wallet out, handing the man a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks, and keep the change."
The driver grinned. "Thanks, pal. And…uh, good luck," he nodded toward Keith's inert figure in front of the door.
Danny smiled, hoisting his bag. "Thanks, I'm gonna need it."
He watched the cab turn around and leave, then went back to Keith as he still shuddered with pain. Noticing the containers from the restaurant sitting nearby, Danny smiled.
"At least you're feeding yourself. Mom was worried about that."
Keith closed his eyes. Mom. What would she think if she could see him, now?
Danny's hand was on his shoulder, now, as he bent beside him once again. "Come on, let's go in before the cops come and arrest you for vagrancy."
Relenting, Keith allowed Danny to pull him to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain the motion was causing. His hand trembled as he pulled the key from his front pocket and Danny took it from him, trying to steady his brother and open the door at the same time.
When the door opened, revealing the shabby surroundings, Danny almost swore out loud, but held his tongue. Grabbing Keith around the waist, he got him to the bed and eased him down, still staring at the condition of the room. Had Keith completely lost his mind?
A groan from the bed brought his attention back to his brother. "I brought some aspirin with me. It probably won't help much, but Chris said you were out of your painkillers."
Curled up on the bed, Keith winced. "Sure, Danny, anything…there's some cups in the bathroom…"
Danny ventured inside the bathroom, still disgusted with what he saw. Filling a plastic cup with water from the sink, Danny held it up for a close inspection, as if he expected to find treasure in there or something. Shaking his head, he went back into the other room. Keith had managed to sit up, now, and Danny quickly got into his bag to get the aspirin. Handing the water to Keith, the younger man pried off the lid and dumped two tablets into Keith's hand. Watching him down them, Danny sat down on the edge of the bed.
"So, Keith," he said off-handedly. "Stevie Wonder decorate this place?"
Keith pulled a face. "I couldn't exactly check into the Hilton. I wanted to keep a low profile."
Danny nodded. "This is low, all right."
"Never mind the snide remarks. What are you doing here?"
"Question is, what are YOU doing here? You realize you've got three very hysterical females in San Pueblo wondering what the hell you think you're doing?"
Keith sighed. "What, Mom didn't call the President, too? I told her I was going to take a sabbatical."
Danny laughed. "You call this a sabbatical? The dregs of society wouldn't come here. They'd have to redecorate it to condemn it."
Keith laid back down, pain clawing at him from every direction. Danny noticed the look on his face and his expression softened.
"You're really out of remission, huh?"
Keith nodded silently, staring at a stain on the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain and hoping Danny couldn't see it in his eyes. "Yeah," he finally gulped. "Back to square one."
"Maybe they can strengthen the doses, put you on more milligrams of whatever it is you're taking - "
"No," Keith almost moaned, his voice bitter. "I'm not gonna fight any more."
Danny stared at him. "That's crazy."
Keith's eyes met his brother's. "Crazier than puking for hours on end? Crazier than having my resistance get so low I can't even catch a freakin' cold for fear of pneumonia? I am going to die, Danny. There's no getting around that. I'm gonna go anyway, I might as well do it fully conscious."
Danny blinked and looked away. He hated it when Keith was like this, talking about death. The only person ever to die on him was their father, and Danny was so young at the time, he really couldn't remember. He knew it had been quick; one moment he was there, and the next he wasn't. But Keith…
Danny pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to his brother. It was silent in the room, until Danny whirled on him, fire in his eyes.
"I am NOT gonna sit here and listen to you give up on yourself! Not when there're things that can be done." He leaped on the bed, grabbing his brother's shirtfront. "I don't care what YOU want. I want you to fight this, and by damned, I will do everything in my power to see it happen, understand?"
Surprise at Danny's boldness quickly turned to anger, as Keith yanked Danny's hand away, moving painfully out from under his presence. "You're the one who doesn't understand. You don't have to live with the pain, the nausea; the fear…" He managed to sit up, then, shivering and holding his arms, he hunched forward. The pain was intense and he fought it, the color draining from his face.
Danny swallowed. "Oh, god, Keith, I'm sorry…did I hurt you?"
Keith shook his head quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. The tears were spilling harder, now, and Keith couldn't help but sob.
Danny got up, rounding the bed and putting an arm around his brother's bony shoulders. "It's okay, buddy…I'm here. We'll get through this somehow…" He gently pulled Keith into him, letting him cry against his chest, and fought tears himself.
****
Chris stared open-mouthed at the motel as his taxi pulled into the parking lot. THIS was to where Keith had run? Looking at the paper where he'd scribbled the name of the place that his brother had given him, he double-checked the weathered sign. Sunset Inn; it was the right name, but…
He cleared his throat. "Uh, sir, I think there's a mistake here. Is there another Sunset Inn in town?"
The driver glanced back at his young passenger. "Not that I know of. Look, kid, you told me Sunset Inn and this is it. You want out here or not?"
Chris took a deep breath. They'd already been over to the hospital, but Keith and Danny weren't there. If this was another wild goose chase… "Yes, I guess I do. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
The driver shrugged, bringing the car to a stop. "No problem. Your tab's thirty bucks. That includes the little side trip to the hospital."
Chris nodded, producing the money with a five dollar tip on top. "Thank you."
"Need me to wait, sonny? I have a feeling this ain't what you wanted, either."
"No, it's okay. I'm hoping you're right, but something tells me you're not. Thanks."
They both got out of the car and the driver opened the trunk, grabbing Chris's bag. Chris took it, and was still staring at the neglected, decaying row of buildings in front of him when the cab drove off, leaving him there in the weed infested parking lot. Again, he looked down at the paper in his hand. Sunset Inn, Room 14. Swallowing, Chris forced his feet forward. Please God, he prayed, let this all be a mistake…
He found the room easily and hesitantly raised his hand, knocking on the scuffed door. Half expecting a large man in a filthy t-shirt with a beer can in his hand to answer, he was pleasantly surprised to see Danny's face peer out at him.
"Danny!"
Danny glanced behind him, then slipped out the door, closing it softly, but not letting it catch. "Shhh, he just fell asleep!"
Chris nodded, lowering his bag. "Is he okay?"
"Not really. He won't go to the hospital. I tried, man."
"Is he in pain?"
"Yeah, but he still refuses to go. He's giving up; said he's not fighting it any more. I think it's the pain talking."
Chris's eyes scanned their surroundings. "It's GOT to be the pain. Look at where we are!"
Danny grinned. "My thoughts, exactly. He said he wanted to keep a low profile, and for that I can't blame him. He'd have no peace if he tried checking into a fancy hotel."
"But this…this…rat hole!" Chris winced, noting the crack in the window and the huge dent in the door.
"Not exactly Keith Partridge caliber, is it? I keep wondering just how many guys have bit the dust in this room alone!"
Chris shuddered at Danny's inference. "We've got to convince him to get over to the hospital, Danny. Maybe his doctor in O.C. was wrong about the remission. It happens, you know."
"Yeah, I guess it does. Maybe you can tell by giving him the once over." Danny nodded, opening the door wider. "The room's worse than it looks, by the way."
Chris felt dizzy looking at the room before him, but when his eyes settled on his older brother asleep on the bed, the dizziness turned to disconsolation. Keith almost looked like death warmed over, and he had to force a smile for Danny's benefit.
He moved past the red-head into the room and Danny softly closed the door. The boys kept their voices muted, so as not to awaken their brother.
"We've got to get him out of here," Chris whispered.
"I was going to get us a room somewhere else, but I thought I'd wait and see what you wanted to do. If he goes into the hospital, I am NOT staying here, that's for sure." Danny shoved his hands in his pockets.
Chris agreed silently, his eyes wide. "Did you fill Mom in?"
"No; I don't know what to say, or how to say it. No use freaking her out. I don't think we should tell her about this place."
"You've got that right." Chris noticed the aspirin bottle on the table. "This is what he's been taking?"
Danny nodded. "I brought them from home. I don't think they're helping much."
"He definitely needs something stronger. Another reason to get him over to the hospital," Chris stated, frowning. Looking down at the sleeping Keith, he sighed. "He doesn't look good, Danny. Not good at all. Let's call a cab and get him over there."
Danny smiled. "Why not an ambulance?"
"Because he'd never forgive us."
"He might not forgive us for the cab, either."
Chris shrugged. "Then we don't have anything to lose, do we?" He grabbed the phone book as Danny looked nervous.
"Wait. Don't you think we should at least tell him what we're doing?"
"And have him shoot us down in mid-air? No, we've got to make it like he has no choice, which he doesn't." Chris started thumbing through the book.
"Forget it."
The words, low and bitter, came from the bed and Chris and Danny turned to see Keith roll over and look hard at them.
"You said he was asleep!" Chris hissed at Danny.
"He was…I thought…" Danny stammered.
"I was, until you two knuckleheads barged in here." Keith pushed himself up. "You can put the book down, Chris. I'm not going to the hospital." He winced, easing his legs to the floor.
"You could at least go and get a second opinion. Doctors can be wrong, you know," Chris told him, observing him closely.
Keith forced a guttural laugh. "Haven't met one yet that has been. Danny, hand me the aspirin, will you?"
Danny picked up the bottle, doing as he was told as Chris circled around the bed.
"That can't be helping your pain."
Keith looked up, his expression weary. "Sure it is. A little."
Chris sat down next to him, starting an impromptu examination, peering into his eyes, feeling his neck. Putting his hand under Keith's arm, he glanced up at Danny, then back at Keith. "Come on, Keith. Let's go over to Desert Springs. Now."
Keith swallowed. "Why? What's wrong?"
Danny smirked. "I thought you didn't care."
Chris silenced him with a daggered look. "Your node's a little swollen. Nothing to be alarmed about, but I want you checked out. Just to be safe."
Keith's eyes went from Chris's face to Danny's. "I don't know…I'm…I'm just so tired of this."
Chris squeezed Keith's wrist, his hand closing almost entirely around it. "I know, buddy. But we can get your meds renewed and get you out of pain for a while."
Taking a deep breath, Keith nodded, relenting. "Okay."
Grinning, Danny grabbed the phone book and the receiver.