What You Need
By Margarita Neko
Chapter 5: Friday/Sick
Gar wasn't in school the next day. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised. I mean, he'd been coughing up *blood*, and I'm sure he wasn't exactly eager to face the trio again any time soon. Plus, they'd told pretty much the entire school about his sexuality. But still...
I was disappointed.
Weird, isn't it? Just yesterday, I'd have sold my soul to have him not show up to torment me for a day, but today... I just needed to know that he was okay.
And that was how I ended up blowing off yoga after school to jog down the now-familiar Main Street to the little house with the white picket fence that I'd seen for the first time just yesterday. I took a moment to catch my breath, then opened the little gate on the fence and walked up to the door.
I rang the doorbell, and this motherly looking woman in her mid- forties or so came to greet me. I smiled my best "I'm a nice polite little boy" smile.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Logan," I said courteously, still smiling. "My name is Robin Grayson. I'm a friend of Gar's from school, and I noticed he wasn't in school today, so I stopped by to see how he's doing."
She seemed slightly surprised, but happy, nonetheless. "My, Gar didn't mention he'd made any good friends already," she said, pleased. "Of course you may visit him! He's just a bit sick today—tummy ache, poor dear—but he should be well enough for visitors. He's in his room, just down the hall on the right. Oh, and would you take off your shoes, please, dear? Thank you."
She bustled off to go bake cookies or whatever, and I took of my shoes and headed down the hall. There was still a lot of stuff in boxes, but there were pictures of beaches and seashells on the walls already. I could tell that it would be very homey, once everything was in its place.
One of the doors to the right, Gar's room, had one of those silly nameplates on the door; the kind that most kids grew out of when they were, like, eight. Oh well. At least I knew which was his.
I knocked, and a singsong "Come iiin!" answered. I sighed. God, how the hell had I missed that he was gay?
I opened the door. Like the rest of the house, most of the stuff in this room was still in boxes, except for a few pictures, and... A massive pile of stuffed animals. I raised my eyebrow at this, before shaking it off and turning to the bed.
Gar was sitting there, propped up against a huge heap of pillows. In his lap was that little fluff ball of a bird, Angel, from a few days ago. It was chirping hungrily as Gar dropped little bits of some sort of bird food into its open mouth. He looked up from his task as I walked over, sitting myself at the foot of his bed. He grinned.
"Hey!" he said happily, and I wondered just how sick he really was. I still hadn't completely abandoned the idea of him faking it. "Wasn't expecting to see you any time soon... Come to see the baby?"
I raised my eyebrow. "Okay, I give up. What the hell are you talking about?"
He just giggled and held the bird out to me. It stared up at me, then started chirping happily, trying to flutter out of Gar's grip. Confused, I took it from him gently, casting him a questioning glance.
"Birds make impressions of the first living thing they see, and that becomes their mommy," he explained. "I was the first thing, but he saw you right afterwards, 'cause you were with me, so I guess he has a bit of an impression of you, too." He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, then grinned widely. "So, that makes you the daddy!"
I blanched, and then blushed wildly, coughing lightly from discomfort. "So, uh..." I started, grasping for conversation topics that didn't involve the two of us having a child. "What kind of a bird is this, anyway?"
He grinned excitedly. "Gold Eagle!" he said in his chirping little voice. Actually, when I thought about it, he sounded kind of like Angel, himself. "Isn't that so nifty?"
I nodded, staring at the little ball of gray fluff in my hands. Quite frankly, I couldn't see that little thing as an eagle, but, if he insisted... "Yeah, that's cool," I said, and he smiled.
"You didn't come here to see Angel, though," he told me, that insightful, I-can-see-your-soul look on his face again. I sighed and nodded. "So, what do you want, then?"
"Well..." I hesitated, not sure quite how to phrase this gently. Eventually, however, I decided to screw gently. He could take it. "What is *wrong* with you?"
He blinked in surprise, and then laughed. "God only knows," he said cheerfully, but with a sad sort of look on his face. "I've been sick for *years*... It's completely un-contagious, so you don't hafta worry about picking it up from being here or anything. I'm one of, like, four people in medical history who's ever gotten it, and all of the others died before they were old enough to drink. There's... No known cure."
I stared at him in shock. Hadn't he just said yesterday that it was no big deal? Since when did "terminal" mean no big deal?
I was jolted from my thoughts by Gar's soft chuckling before he continued. "I must have gone through about a dozen hospitals in the past two or three years," he said nostalgically. "You remember that girl I told you about, Katy? The one who was into psychology? My best friend at the hospital in Philly. Terminal, with AIDS. She died a couple weeks after I left. I really wish I could have been there for her up until the end, but my parents refused to accept that there was nothing they could do for me at any hospital, so they just moved me around as much as possible. As soon as it was evident that one place couldn't help me, we packed up and went to another."
"You... You talk about this so casually," I said softly after a long moment of silence. "Like it happens every day..."
"For me, it pretty much did," he told me, and, at my surprised look, continued. "LA, I had Tommy, this cute little kid, about eight or so. Died of a brain tumor about a week before I left. Tampa was Matt, eighteen years old, dead the day I left from pancreatic cancer. In my hometown, I had Lauren, fourteen years old, not dead yet, but she's getting there. And in Atlanta... There was Michael."
This really sad look crossed his face at this point, and I almost dropped the issue. Unfortunately, curiosity chose that moment to rear its ugly head, and I found myself asking, "What happened to Michael?"
Gar giggled, but it was a really sad, depressed sort of giggle. Not at all like his usual ringing little laughs. "Michael was my *idol*," he told me, smiling nostalgically. "He was about nineteen, and I was... Fourteen, I think. He was bi, like me, and he was the one to help realize my sexuality. Not in an... Impure way, of course. He just kinda told me what it was like to be bi, and I figured out that I was, too, from his description. He was going to college for philosophy, and psychology, like Katy, and he taught me pretty much everything I know about how the human mind works. He was... Like a big brother to me. I loved him."
He sighed, tears in his eyes, and continued. "He had AIDS, though, and by the time I got to the hospital, he was pretty much on the verge of death. We hung out for a couple of weeks, and then... He died one night. I was there with him, too. I held his hand and watched him fade away."
"Holy shit..." I muttered under my breath. "How the hell do you stay so cheerful all the time?"
He giggled, sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes. "Well, I'm gonna get to see them again soon, aren't I?"
I stared at him. There was just something... *Wrong* about someone talking about his own death like he was just waiting patiently for it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I found myself whispering a soft, "Don't talk like that... There's still hope..." under my breath, reaching out and grabbing his hand for comfort. Whether that comfort was for me or for him I don't know.
He just stared up at me with those huge green eyes that were so innocent and so omniscient at the same time, squeezing my hand lightly for reassurance. "Yeah..." he agreed. "There's always hope. Humans... All of us... We need hope to live each day. Without hope... There's nothing."
There it was again. His fixation on people's needs. "Why do you care so much about what people need?" I asked him. It had been bugging me for so long, and it felt good to finally be able to make an attempt at figuring it out.
He thought a moment, staring off into space, before answering. "Well, it's like this, I guess..." he began slowly, as if he was thinking about every word he said carefully. "I've seen some people who had everything they could possibly want, and they weren't happy at all. They don't realize that, sometimes, what you want and what you need aren't the same thing. I mean, take Cy, for example. He was wicked opposed to that whole computer thing, but it was something that made him happy. He needs computers. They're part of his life, and no amount of denial is gonna change that. I just... Wanted to help him realize that. I like it when people are happy."
I nodded. Damn. He was so annoying because he wanted people to be *happy?* That's... Kind of weird.
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, each of us left to our own thoughts. Gar had taken back Angel at some point during our conversation (I hadn't even noticed...), and was busy feeding him. He was smiling and cooing at the little fluffer, as if he hadn't just revealed some of his deepest, darkest secrets to me a second ago.
Finally, I sighed and stood up. "I gotta get going," I told him. "Thanks... For telling me all this."
He smiled up at me, cheerful as always. "No prob! Thanks for listening!" he said. "Feel free to stop by any time... I'm sure Angel would appreciate it."
I laughed, giving the little eagle chick a pat on the head before turning and walking to the door. Once there, however, I hesitated, my hand on the knob. There was just one more thing bugging me...
"Gar?" I asked uncertainly, turning to face him once more.
"Hm?" he asked, still feeding his little pet.
I paused a second, then decided to go for it. "If... If you've been trying to give us each what we need..." I began, still hesitant about what I was about to ask. "Then... What do I need?"
He looked up from his task, staring at me with those amazing eyes. He sighed. "Quite frankly..." he started, stroking his pet gently as it chirped for more food. "I don't know what you need. I've never met anyone like you before, Robin. I'm looking forward to finding out more about you, and then... Maybe I can help you."
I nodded, turning and walking out the door, then out of the house with the blue shutters and white picket fence. It was only then, when I was sure he wasn't near enough to read my mind or whatever it was that he did when he got that look on his face, that I admitted something to myself.
'I'm looking forward to it, too...'
~*End Chapter Five*~
Author's Notes: Well, there ya have it. Bit o' acceptance and all that jazz... Anyways, next chapter will have wicked amounts of slash. ^.^ Much fun! R&R!
Reviews:
Starre: Hey, thanks man! I think Gar's cool too... I love writing his character. ^.^ I'll be sure to check out those fics you mentioned. You ever read "The Body of Christopher Creed" by Carol Plum-Ucci (or any other books by her)? It's killer. Go read it. ^.^
Chapter 5: Friday/Sick
Gar wasn't in school the next day. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised. I mean, he'd been coughing up *blood*, and I'm sure he wasn't exactly eager to face the trio again any time soon. Plus, they'd told pretty much the entire school about his sexuality. But still...
I was disappointed.
Weird, isn't it? Just yesterday, I'd have sold my soul to have him not show up to torment me for a day, but today... I just needed to know that he was okay.
And that was how I ended up blowing off yoga after school to jog down the now-familiar Main Street to the little house with the white picket fence that I'd seen for the first time just yesterday. I took a moment to catch my breath, then opened the little gate on the fence and walked up to the door.
I rang the doorbell, and this motherly looking woman in her mid- forties or so came to greet me. I smiled my best "I'm a nice polite little boy" smile.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Logan," I said courteously, still smiling. "My name is Robin Grayson. I'm a friend of Gar's from school, and I noticed he wasn't in school today, so I stopped by to see how he's doing."
She seemed slightly surprised, but happy, nonetheless. "My, Gar didn't mention he'd made any good friends already," she said, pleased. "Of course you may visit him! He's just a bit sick today—tummy ache, poor dear—but he should be well enough for visitors. He's in his room, just down the hall on the right. Oh, and would you take off your shoes, please, dear? Thank you."
She bustled off to go bake cookies or whatever, and I took of my shoes and headed down the hall. There was still a lot of stuff in boxes, but there were pictures of beaches and seashells on the walls already. I could tell that it would be very homey, once everything was in its place.
One of the doors to the right, Gar's room, had one of those silly nameplates on the door; the kind that most kids grew out of when they were, like, eight. Oh well. At least I knew which was his.
I knocked, and a singsong "Come iiin!" answered. I sighed. God, how the hell had I missed that he was gay?
I opened the door. Like the rest of the house, most of the stuff in this room was still in boxes, except for a few pictures, and... A massive pile of stuffed animals. I raised my eyebrow at this, before shaking it off and turning to the bed.
Gar was sitting there, propped up against a huge heap of pillows. In his lap was that little fluff ball of a bird, Angel, from a few days ago. It was chirping hungrily as Gar dropped little bits of some sort of bird food into its open mouth. He looked up from his task as I walked over, sitting myself at the foot of his bed. He grinned.
"Hey!" he said happily, and I wondered just how sick he really was. I still hadn't completely abandoned the idea of him faking it. "Wasn't expecting to see you any time soon... Come to see the baby?"
I raised my eyebrow. "Okay, I give up. What the hell are you talking about?"
He just giggled and held the bird out to me. It stared up at me, then started chirping happily, trying to flutter out of Gar's grip. Confused, I took it from him gently, casting him a questioning glance.
"Birds make impressions of the first living thing they see, and that becomes their mommy," he explained. "I was the first thing, but he saw you right afterwards, 'cause you were with me, so I guess he has a bit of an impression of you, too." He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, then grinned widely. "So, that makes you the daddy!"
I blanched, and then blushed wildly, coughing lightly from discomfort. "So, uh..." I started, grasping for conversation topics that didn't involve the two of us having a child. "What kind of a bird is this, anyway?"
He grinned excitedly. "Gold Eagle!" he said in his chirping little voice. Actually, when I thought about it, he sounded kind of like Angel, himself. "Isn't that so nifty?"
I nodded, staring at the little ball of gray fluff in my hands. Quite frankly, I couldn't see that little thing as an eagle, but, if he insisted... "Yeah, that's cool," I said, and he smiled.
"You didn't come here to see Angel, though," he told me, that insightful, I-can-see-your-soul look on his face again. I sighed and nodded. "So, what do you want, then?"
"Well..." I hesitated, not sure quite how to phrase this gently. Eventually, however, I decided to screw gently. He could take it. "What is *wrong* with you?"
He blinked in surprise, and then laughed. "God only knows," he said cheerfully, but with a sad sort of look on his face. "I've been sick for *years*... It's completely un-contagious, so you don't hafta worry about picking it up from being here or anything. I'm one of, like, four people in medical history who's ever gotten it, and all of the others died before they were old enough to drink. There's... No known cure."
I stared at him in shock. Hadn't he just said yesterday that it was no big deal? Since when did "terminal" mean no big deal?
I was jolted from my thoughts by Gar's soft chuckling before he continued. "I must have gone through about a dozen hospitals in the past two or three years," he said nostalgically. "You remember that girl I told you about, Katy? The one who was into psychology? My best friend at the hospital in Philly. Terminal, with AIDS. She died a couple weeks after I left. I really wish I could have been there for her up until the end, but my parents refused to accept that there was nothing they could do for me at any hospital, so they just moved me around as much as possible. As soon as it was evident that one place couldn't help me, we packed up and went to another."
"You... You talk about this so casually," I said softly after a long moment of silence. "Like it happens every day..."
"For me, it pretty much did," he told me, and, at my surprised look, continued. "LA, I had Tommy, this cute little kid, about eight or so. Died of a brain tumor about a week before I left. Tampa was Matt, eighteen years old, dead the day I left from pancreatic cancer. In my hometown, I had Lauren, fourteen years old, not dead yet, but she's getting there. And in Atlanta... There was Michael."
This really sad look crossed his face at this point, and I almost dropped the issue. Unfortunately, curiosity chose that moment to rear its ugly head, and I found myself asking, "What happened to Michael?"
Gar giggled, but it was a really sad, depressed sort of giggle. Not at all like his usual ringing little laughs. "Michael was my *idol*," he told me, smiling nostalgically. "He was about nineteen, and I was... Fourteen, I think. He was bi, like me, and he was the one to help realize my sexuality. Not in an... Impure way, of course. He just kinda told me what it was like to be bi, and I figured out that I was, too, from his description. He was going to college for philosophy, and psychology, like Katy, and he taught me pretty much everything I know about how the human mind works. He was... Like a big brother to me. I loved him."
He sighed, tears in his eyes, and continued. "He had AIDS, though, and by the time I got to the hospital, he was pretty much on the verge of death. We hung out for a couple of weeks, and then... He died one night. I was there with him, too. I held his hand and watched him fade away."
"Holy shit..." I muttered under my breath. "How the hell do you stay so cheerful all the time?"
He giggled, sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes. "Well, I'm gonna get to see them again soon, aren't I?"
I stared at him. There was just something... *Wrong* about someone talking about his own death like he was just waiting patiently for it.
I don't know what made me do it, but I found myself whispering a soft, "Don't talk like that... There's still hope..." under my breath, reaching out and grabbing his hand for comfort. Whether that comfort was for me or for him I don't know.
He just stared up at me with those huge green eyes that were so innocent and so omniscient at the same time, squeezing my hand lightly for reassurance. "Yeah..." he agreed. "There's always hope. Humans... All of us... We need hope to live each day. Without hope... There's nothing."
There it was again. His fixation on people's needs. "Why do you care so much about what people need?" I asked him. It had been bugging me for so long, and it felt good to finally be able to make an attempt at figuring it out.
He thought a moment, staring off into space, before answering. "Well, it's like this, I guess..." he began slowly, as if he was thinking about every word he said carefully. "I've seen some people who had everything they could possibly want, and they weren't happy at all. They don't realize that, sometimes, what you want and what you need aren't the same thing. I mean, take Cy, for example. He was wicked opposed to that whole computer thing, but it was something that made him happy. He needs computers. They're part of his life, and no amount of denial is gonna change that. I just... Wanted to help him realize that. I like it when people are happy."
I nodded. Damn. He was so annoying because he wanted people to be *happy?* That's... Kind of weird.
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, each of us left to our own thoughts. Gar had taken back Angel at some point during our conversation (I hadn't even noticed...), and was busy feeding him. He was smiling and cooing at the little fluffer, as if he hadn't just revealed some of his deepest, darkest secrets to me a second ago.
Finally, I sighed and stood up. "I gotta get going," I told him. "Thanks... For telling me all this."
He smiled up at me, cheerful as always. "No prob! Thanks for listening!" he said. "Feel free to stop by any time... I'm sure Angel would appreciate it."
I laughed, giving the little eagle chick a pat on the head before turning and walking to the door. Once there, however, I hesitated, my hand on the knob. There was just one more thing bugging me...
"Gar?" I asked uncertainly, turning to face him once more.
"Hm?" he asked, still feeding his little pet.
I paused a second, then decided to go for it. "If... If you've been trying to give us each what we need..." I began, still hesitant about what I was about to ask. "Then... What do I need?"
He looked up from his task, staring at me with those amazing eyes. He sighed. "Quite frankly..." he started, stroking his pet gently as it chirped for more food. "I don't know what you need. I've never met anyone like you before, Robin. I'm looking forward to finding out more about you, and then... Maybe I can help you."
I nodded, turning and walking out the door, then out of the house with the blue shutters and white picket fence. It was only then, when I was sure he wasn't near enough to read my mind or whatever it was that he did when he got that look on his face, that I admitted something to myself.
'I'm looking forward to it, too...'
~*End Chapter Five*~
Author's Notes: Well, there ya have it. Bit o' acceptance and all that jazz... Anyways, next chapter will have wicked amounts of slash. ^.^ Much fun! R&R!
Reviews:
Starre: Hey, thanks man! I think Gar's cool too... I love writing his character. ^.^ I'll be sure to check out those fics you mentioned. You ever read "The Body of Christopher Creed" by Carol Plum-Ucci (or any other books by her)? It's killer. Go read it. ^.^
