~Across The Universe~
*Chapter Six*
"Desperado"
I wake up, sweating, and in pain. My stomach has cramped up, and my head is swimming. I cry out into the darkness, and silence is the only reply. I hate this, but I know that it is my punishment, and that if my punishment really were a just one, I'd die here tonight. I want to die. They must have known that, because, as I scan the room for sharp objects, I see that the entire room has been cleared out. When did they do this? My head is foggy, and the pain worsens, as I rise from my bed, and make my way across the darkened room. I pull on the door, but it has been locked from the outside. I bang on it with my fist, more out of frusteration than anything else. Deflated, I shuffle back to bed, and lay atop my dark grey sheets, now damp from sweat. Oh, God, kill me now. Facing the light of day is a fate worse than the death that looms.
***~***
I must have dozed off, because the faint sound of Chandler crying out in pain caused me to jump. It's killing me that he is hurting so badly, but I know that this is the only way to handle this. He refused to go back to rehab. After spending most of the day cleaning out his apartment, and flushing what was left of his stash, I told him that if he wasn't going to rehab, then he was going to have to deal with this my way. Too exhausted and sick to argue, he fell asleep, and I made a few calls.
I called Ross, and explained the situation. He, in turn, called the girls, and the five of us met at the coffee shop to talk about what to do next. Monica was a wreck, and it took us a good 45 minutes just to get through to her. We finally got the story out of her, and, after a lot of convincing, she agreed that no matter what had happened, the best thing she could do for Chandler now was to get him through the next 24 hours.
So, here I am. Keeping watch on Chandler for another hour, until Rachel comes over to relieve me. If you would have told me three years ago, hell a year ago, that I'd be doing this, watching over my best friend, making sure he didn't fall again, making sure he didn't kill himself...I would have told you to go to hell.
***~***
Dawn is breaking over the city. I've never been so exhausted in my life. I have spent the past 24 hours going over everything that happened between me and Chandler. His outburst was strange, even for him. I try to think about it from his perspective...he was scared, and insecure about all of this to begin with. Maybe I pushed him too far, to fast. We haven't been that intimate in almost three years. I talked to the others, and they all agreed that it was probably too intense for Chandler to handle. I realize that I have been so blinded by my hope...hope that I could resurrect the Chandler from long ago, that I failed to see that the Chandler that is in the here and now is the only one that exists. This man is brooding, moody, at times irrational, and very, very fragile. Am I responsible for sending him back down his path of destruction? Is it possible that my presence in his life will be the catalyst for his ultimate demise? My own insecurities, reflected in his eyes, were increased tenfold in his mind.
But what if he is sick? He's still so thin, and...and it pains me to think these things, but it is a valid concern I think. What if he has HIV? I don't know much of anything about those lost years. I doubt he even remembers much. I don't want to believe that it could happen, but then I never thought that any of this could happen.
What happened to our perfect little universe?
***~***
I am feeling a bit better, in the light of day. And Joey and Ross have dragged me down to a clinic to be tested. Ross is furious, but is trying to hide it. He's horrible at hiding his true feelings...I can't believe it took Rachel so fucking long to figure him out.
I'm nervous. I am so nervous that I can't see straight. If I test positive, for anything, then Monica is at risk. That will kill me. They took blood and urine, then came back to do more tests...just to be sure, they said. They brought in a different doctor, and he and a few others were all huddled together, talking quietly about my "results". I now fear the worst. My stomach is in knots, and I feel dizzy. If I'm positive...what do I tell Monica? Terror...terror is the feeling I have in my gut, in my heart, and in my soul. I am truely terrified...and scared straight.
The doctor that they brought in is approaching me, and I do not like the look on his face.
"Mr. Bing, you've managed to do quite a bit of damage to yourself," the doctor says, with a sickeningly patronizing tone.
"Yes, I know."
"Well, the good news is, you tested negative for HIV. So, if you were sharing needles, you must have gotten lucky."
"I don't think I ever--"
"However, it is possible that HIV is in your system. You will need to be checked, every few years, as will anyone you've had unprotected sex with."
"Okay," I manage to say, though I feel like my head is going to explode.
"There is...another problem."
What? Shit. What the fuck did he just say? My ears were ringing, I couldn't hear a damn thing.
"What?"
"There's another problem. Your kidney's are failing. Whether this is a result of your heavy drug abuse isn't clear at this point...it could be any number of things. Does Diabetes run in your family?"
"Huh? I, uh, I don't know." My head is swimming. Am I going to die? What is he telling me? It's ironic, isn't it...the one thing that will make you want to live, is the fucking news that you aren't going to.
"We'll put you an the donor list...and you should start considering the idea of asking relatives...do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"No."
"What about your parents?"
"Not likely," I laugh, the image of my mother agreeing to permanent scarring on her body flashing through my head.
"Well, start thinking about asking people who may be...willing to donate for you."
That's a laughable notion, too. I've already screwed over everyone who ever gave a shit about me....'Hey Joe, I know I've treated you like shit, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind handing over one of your vital organs?' Gimme a fucking break already.
*
"What did they say?" Ross and Joey practially jump down my throat when I come back out into the lobby.
"I tested negative," I say quietly, and continue walking out of the clinic. They are close behind me.
"Is everything okay, then?" Joey still manages to sound innocent as a child sometimes. I can't imagine what all of this has done to his opinion of friendship.
"Not really. But I think we need to find the girls. There's something you all need to know."
Today is the first day of the end of my life.
"Desperado"
(The Eagles)
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
Don' you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
She'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of heats is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no youger
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're loosin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late
*Chapter Six*
"Desperado"
I wake up, sweating, and in pain. My stomach has cramped up, and my head is swimming. I cry out into the darkness, and silence is the only reply. I hate this, but I know that it is my punishment, and that if my punishment really were a just one, I'd die here tonight. I want to die. They must have known that, because, as I scan the room for sharp objects, I see that the entire room has been cleared out. When did they do this? My head is foggy, and the pain worsens, as I rise from my bed, and make my way across the darkened room. I pull on the door, but it has been locked from the outside. I bang on it with my fist, more out of frusteration than anything else. Deflated, I shuffle back to bed, and lay atop my dark grey sheets, now damp from sweat. Oh, God, kill me now. Facing the light of day is a fate worse than the death that looms.
***~***
I must have dozed off, because the faint sound of Chandler crying out in pain caused me to jump. It's killing me that he is hurting so badly, but I know that this is the only way to handle this. He refused to go back to rehab. After spending most of the day cleaning out his apartment, and flushing what was left of his stash, I told him that if he wasn't going to rehab, then he was going to have to deal with this my way. Too exhausted and sick to argue, he fell asleep, and I made a few calls.
I called Ross, and explained the situation. He, in turn, called the girls, and the five of us met at the coffee shop to talk about what to do next. Monica was a wreck, and it took us a good 45 minutes just to get through to her. We finally got the story out of her, and, after a lot of convincing, she agreed that no matter what had happened, the best thing she could do for Chandler now was to get him through the next 24 hours.
So, here I am. Keeping watch on Chandler for another hour, until Rachel comes over to relieve me. If you would have told me three years ago, hell a year ago, that I'd be doing this, watching over my best friend, making sure he didn't fall again, making sure he didn't kill himself...I would have told you to go to hell.
***~***
Dawn is breaking over the city. I've never been so exhausted in my life. I have spent the past 24 hours going over everything that happened between me and Chandler. His outburst was strange, even for him. I try to think about it from his perspective...he was scared, and insecure about all of this to begin with. Maybe I pushed him too far, to fast. We haven't been that intimate in almost three years. I talked to the others, and they all agreed that it was probably too intense for Chandler to handle. I realize that I have been so blinded by my hope...hope that I could resurrect the Chandler from long ago, that I failed to see that the Chandler that is in the here and now is the only one that exists. This man is brooding, moody, at times irrational, and very, very fragile. Am I responsible for sending him back down his path of destruction? Is it possible that my presence in his life will be the catalyst for his ultimate demise? My own insecurities, reflected in his eyes, were increased tenfold in his mind.
But what if he is sick? He's still so thin, and...and it pains me to think these things, but it is a valid concern I think. What if he has HIV? I don't know much of anything about those lost years. I doubt he even remembers much. I don't want to believe that it could happen, but then I never thought that any of this could happen.
What happened to our perfect little universe?
***~***
I am feeling a bit better, in the light of day. And Joey and Ross have dragged me down to a clinic to be tested. Ross is furious, but is trying to hide it. He's horrible at hiding his true feelings...I can't believe it took Rachel so fucking long to figure him out.
I'm nervous. I am so nervous that I can't see straight. If I test positive, for anything, then Monica is at risk. That will kill me. They took blood and urine, then came back to do more tests...just to be sure, they said. They brought in a different doctor, and he and a few others were all huddled together, talking quietly about my "results". I now fear the worst. My stomach is in knots, and I feel dizzy. If I'm positive...what do I tell Monica? Terror...terror is the feeling I have in my gut, in my heart, and in my soul. I am truely terrified...and scared straight.
The doctor that they brought in is approaching me, and I do not like the look on his face.
"Mr. Bing, you've managed to do quite a bit of damage to yourself," the doctor says, with a sickeningly patronizing tone.
"Yes, I know."
"Well, the good news is, you tested negative for HIV. So, if you were sharing needles, you must have gotten lucky."
"I don't think I ever--"
"However, it is possible that HIV is in your system. You will need to be checked, every few years, as will anyone you've had unprotected sex with."
"Okay," I manage to say, though I feel like my head is going to explode.
"There is...another problem."
What? Shit. What the fuck did he just say? My ears were ringing, I couldn't hear a damn thing.
"What?"
"There's another problem. Your kidney's are failing. Whether this is a result of your heavy drug abuse isn't clear at this point...it could be any number of things. Does Diabetes run in your family?"
"Huh? I, uh, I don't know." My head is swimming. Am I going to die? What is he telling me? It's ironic, isn't it...the one thing that will make you want to live, is the fucking news that you aren't going to.
"We'll put you an the donor list...and you should start considering the idea of asking relatives...do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"No."
"What about your parents?"
"Not likely," I laugh, the image of my mother agreeing to permanent scarring on her body flashing through my head.
"Well, start thinking about asking people who may be...willing to donate for you."
That's a laughable notion, too. I've already screwed over everyone who ever gave a shit about me....'Hey Joe, I know I've treated you like shit, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind handing over one of your vital organs?' Gimme a fucking break already.
*
"What did they say?" Ross and Joey practially jump down my throat when I come back out into the lobby.
"I tested negative," I say quietly, and continue walking out of the clinic. They are close behind me.
"Is everything okay, then?" Joey still manages to sound innocent as a child sometimes. I can't imagine what all of this has done to his opinion of friendship.
"Not really. But I think we need to find the girls. There's something you all need to know."
Today is the first day of the end of my life.
"Desperado"
(The Eagles)
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin' you
Can hurt you somehow
Don' you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
She'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of heats is always your best bet
Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no youger
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're loosin' all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it's too late