DESTROYED

Chapter 14

SUMMARY: Sam and Collins confront one another.

It was now 8:00pm and Angel and Collins were once again left alone… Collins hadn't left the hospital in close to five days, and it was taking a physical toll on him. His muscles were aching and twitching, and movement was now forced with all the energy he could find in his body. His reaction to Angel's voice, or when a nurse or doctor walked in, or when something happened that would garner his attention, was now very slowed and even non responsive at times. Angel had told him repeatedly that he would be okay and that he should go back to the apartment (which he still had, now under Angel's name), and just rest. But each time, Collins refused and renewed his vow not to leave Angel's side…

Of course, his friends also echoed Angel's reasoning in saying that the stressed college professor had obligations to tend to, and that he needed a substantial rest. Mimi, who had visited earlier, had offered to go back to the apartment with him but there was no convincing him. His mind was made up.

Angel was picking at his fingernails again, anguishing over how his manicure had been totally ruined (it was his futile attempts to cheer Collins up and actually spark some life back into the room). For him, getting the events of that Friday night off his chest actually did do him really well as now he felt like he didn't have to carry the pain and burden alone – that he didn't have to be strong for himself and everyone else all the time, and to let Collins and his friends carry him through these trying times. All his life, Angel preached that everyone should love themselves and others for who they are – and you know what? Nothing's changed. If anything, those beliefs were only strengthened further, and that was a good thing that could not be denied.
Looking over at Collins, Angel saw that he was deeply immersed in something that was causing him distress, or at least obvious concern.

"You okay, honey?"

His words rippled through the air and shredded through the silence only momentarily, and got lost into oblivion when his lover didn't respond. Collins was sitting on the other bed, so Angel couldn't actually reach out to touch him without hurting himself further. Studying the beautiful features of his boyfriend further, there was no cause to panic… Collins was definitely a fun loving guy, but he had his serious moments, sometimes for no reason other than his own self-induced worries. He wasn't scared or pissed off, or anything… but Angel could see that something was occupying his mind. Other than me, he thought in true Angel fashion.

"Collins?"

Still no response, so the next step for him was to look around to find something that could gain his attention. Usually, Angel would use his own gorgeous self to either seduce or just plain tease Collins into giving him the attention he wanted, but since he obviously couldn't do that, he would just have to utilize something else to get the job done. Spotting an empty plastic cup on the side table, Angel slowly reached out and using his fingers, made grabbing gestures until the tips of his fingers curled around the top and he got a grip on it. His mouth curled into a small, mischievous smile and he stared at Collins, who still hadn't noticed his movement.
Angel lightly threw the cup in Collins direction, and it ended up just tapping his thigh and then bouncing straight off onto the floor. He looked up. Finally.

"Hmm?"

"Looking a little lost there, baby," Angel giggled, seeing the confusion in Collins' eyes.

"What?"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What?" he repeated.

"Is that all you say?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Whatever's on your mind… you can tell me."

Collins smiled and hopped off the bed and sat down on the bed, and placed his finger under Angel's chin, feeling the warmth and life in his skin. "Nothing that concerns you. Nothing's wrong."

"You so can't lie good."

"Uh-huh."

Angel, now within arms reach of his lover, reached up and softly caressed his check – his thumb moving across the skin just under Collins' eye, and touched the tender area at the edge of his left eye. Angel's touch was to be savored at every chance, for Collins, because his skin really did feel like silk… so smooth and soft… the perfect texture. Every time the two of them were left alone, there was a surge of electricity that filled the room and consumed them, drawing them to each other like magnets. It was unexplainable energy and passion that heated their blood, and something that couldn't be defined in the context of everyday existence. The constant ticking of the clock on the wall, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor seemed to both indicate the passage of time that they both really lost track of whenever their eyes connected… the ticking and the beeping kept them in reality, no matter how much they wanted to let go of it. The continuum of time is very much distorted when it comes to love and wanting to hold onto something or someone for eternity… suddenly everything else loses all meaning, or at least its priority is no long withstanding and becomes subordinate to a sudden urge or desire to hold someone.

Collins let his hand run cross the bandages that covered Angel's chest… with every time he breathed in and out, it was obvious that Angel was in a lot of discomfort, but he seemed to be managing it well. Collins wished that he could absorb some of that physical and emotional trauma, and Angel shouldn't have to deal with it all on his own. Yes, being told of what happened on that Friday night did allow Angel to offload some of the pressure, but it wasn't a solution, not yet. Sam needed to be thrown in jail… or buried six feet under the cold, unforgiving earth… either way, Collins would rather he not be lurking around the hospital grounds. Now, he was scared to leave Angel's side… to leave him vulnerable just in case a certain someone decided to drop by. Why did life have to be so fucking complicated for them? Because they're gay? They have AIDS? They don't, nor want to, conform to the ideologies that society – the state and church – have created? Was God punishing them for being so sinful that even He couldn't bear to tolerate them being happy? Maybe that was going too far… but they were the sorts of questions that ran through Collins mind; the full impact of Angel's injuries sinking in, finally, after almost a week. And you know what? It was terrifying… someone as good as Angel could suffer just as greatly as the rest of them, and that thought didn't hold much hope out for them.

"What you thinking?" Angel whispered.

"Nothing important…"

"Come on!" he pushed further. "Tell me. I promise I won't bite… maybe scratch a little. My nails are ruined."

The lightness of his words brought a smile to his lover's face and Collins laughed weakly at the truly pathetic attempt to cheer him up. Fingering the edge of the bandage without much thought, Collins leaned down further and propped himself up on his elbows, one on either side of Angel's slender body.

"Just thinking, is all…"

"About?"

Collins sighed. "You. Me. All of us," he confessed. "How life's not fair. The usual bullshit."

"Aww baby…" Angel cooed and pouted his lips, cupping Collins' face in his hands and using his thumbs to gently stroke his skin. "Isn't it supposed to be me that say's that?"

"Somehow, no matter what, I don't think you have the capacity to hate life."

"Neither do you."

"No… but I just keep thinking… what if I had lost you? I'm not ready to let you go yet."

Angel's fingers teased his skin, and sent tiny shivers tingling up through his veins and down his spine… a talent Angel knew very well how to use and play it to his advantage, but sometimes he did it without knowing he was doing it. "Tom, you're not going to lose me. I promise."

"Yeah, but," he felt his throat close from the impending outburst of emotion. "What… what about the virus? It won't be too long before—"

"Shut up for a minute," Angel interrupted with a firm tone. "Can we please stop thinking about the future? Honey, learn to take things as they come… that's what I do… it helps me live! Besides, we both have the disease, it could take either one of us first… and anyway," he linked his fingers with Collins', and squeezed. Feeling the gesture returned to him, he used his other hand to hold the back of Collins' neck. "I have you. You're all I need and I don't want anything else."

Hearing those reassuring, confident, yet soft words was all it took for Collins to give in to the overwhelming urge that was beginning to suffocate him, and he pressed his lips with force against Angel's. The intensity of the kiss deepened by mutual desire, and his tongue slid into Angel's mouth and he could taste him, and the passion was returned with equal force. It was like tasting heaven in his mouth, and Collins didn't want to pull away… with all appearances of being delicate to the contrary, Angel was very much like an energizer bunny (jacked up on ecstasy) when it came to these 'intimate' moments between them, which kinda surprised Collins a bit, seeing the morphine drip attached to the IV bag. But hey! He wasn't gonna complain. For him, it was like hunger for more – a natural desire and need to feel more of Angel against him… a hunger to taste him; breathe him; exist in every part of his soul. The desire and physical need for the love was consuming them, and the need to consummate that love had been denied for so long. But as they continued, Collins heard a soft, passionate moan that was breathed down his own throat, from Angel, and that was an obvious sign of enjoyment. A few seconds later though, Angel's muscles began to tense and both of them got so lost in each other that they didn't realize how Angel was pulling him closer to him. Then, he began to tense up even more and began to groan… he started to struggle and a resistance built up to Collins as the older man coaxed his lips open further. Feeling the tensing of Angel's muscles, Collins immediately broke the kiss and studied his face. Tears had come up in Angel's eyes and he was biting his lip – he was in pain.

"Angel?" his voice was tainted with building panic. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Letting out a shallow gasp and wincing, a few moments later the pain apparently subsided and his face relaxed, and he looked up at Collins.

"We should stop… or we'll lose control…"

"What happened?"

All Angel had to do was rub his chest in a silent gesture of what had caused him the distress, and Collins understood. Angel could feel the pain every time his lungs expanded and contracted against his ribcage, and the drugs were generally numbing the physical discomfort, but sometimes, when sudden pressure or something happens that causes a physical reaction occurs, the pain can supersede any effects of the drug.

"How you feeling now?"

Angel didn't have to answer, as Collins could see that his breathing was very rigid and shallow – every time he breathed in, causing his lungs to expand, the pressure on the ribs became greater and thus, obviously, more painful. But, still…

"I'm okay," he whispered and managed a small, reassuring, yet somewhat fake smile. "I'm okay."

"You need sleep."

"I need you."

"You got me."

Angel hesitated. "You won't leave?"

"You know I won't."

Collins moved just slightly so that his lips were teasingly inches away from Angel's, the desire creating what felt like tiny electrical impulses that stimulated every urge and every sexual sense in his body. But he remained defiant to his own pulsating urges, and Angel's.

"Sleep…" he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Angel's eyes were visibly drooping, and his grip on Collins' hand was starting to weaken just a little. Everything was going to be okay for them, he knew it, for he no longer had the burden of carrying the pain all by himself. Yes, Collins' return to New York probably was the reason he got attacked, and why all of this had gone down in the first place, but he could not fault his lover for being the first one of them to actually step up and try to bring to the entire group some measure of resolve. Collins had stood there and taken every little bit of abuse he hurled at him, and each spiteful, hate-filled word was probably taken to heart, but still Collins did not leave. He had been the one to go out, look, and find Angel lying in that alleyway. He cradled him in his arms, trying to calm him and kept telling him that he loved him… that he was sorry. Angel was optimistic by nature, and despite the trauma he had suffered through, his love didn't die. His spirit almost did, but it didn't… it survived. Now wasn't a time for him to dwell in himself, but to be thankful that he still had love in his life – and that they had the second chance they both desperately wanted.

"I love you," he whispered and then yawned, finally allowing his body to carry out its natural function and let his eyes close.

"I love you, too, Ang."

Collins remained silent, and stayed at Angel's side as he drifted off to sleep. It gave him time to think about everything that was going on. More memories of him and Samuel were still freely floating around his mind, but he did his best to try and dispel them by distracting himself again with his work. Sitting down on the cold chair next to the bed, he opened the book to the appropriate page and stared blankly at the words. Whenever he looked at the peacefully sleeping lover in the bed, good memories came to him… when they first met; whenever they kissed; whenever they made love; whenever they were just alone together. Such memories often came with a price to pay or at least the appreciation of them did, anyway… Collins paid the ultimate price, but losing Angel. Memories often become more vivid and appreciated when one knows that they will not be able to experience those same moments ever again. For some people, it's those memories in which they are often left with.

A couple hours after Angel had closed his eyes for the final time that evening Collins rested his head in his hands and rubbed his face, massaging the stress and fatigue from the pores of his skin. He looked at the clock. 10:56PM.

"Shit… why is it so difficult?" his thoughts echoed aloud, reflecting on the trouble he was having in actually resting.

"Where's Mimi or Maureen when you need them?" if his body was forcing him to stay awake, then at least some good entertainment could be afforded to him… and those two girls were about as crazy as you could get. His back and neck were aching from being in the overly uncomfortable positions of sitting on that cold plastic chair for hours on end, and the sterility of the room bored him and gave a dark, empty feeling – though it, in fact, nursed back a person's life. The temptation to go and find something to eat or just move around outside the small room was growing by the second, and he looked at Angel who was still sleeping soundly. Collins had promised Angel that he wouldn't leave him, but… well, I mean he wouldn't really be leaving him, he'd just be going to have a bit of a stretch and get some food. But to leave Angel vulnerable for Samuel to sneak it was also a prominent possibility and a risk Collins wasn't prepared to take. Samuel was really a creature of the night, so he'd be most active (and probably most fucked up on drugs) around this time.
Collins rubbed his temples and yawned – he wanted to sleep, he felt sleepy, but somehow his body remained active and too alert to relax. He stood up and stretched his arms out to get the circulation running through his veins and muscles once more, and walked around the side of Angel's bed to the door, and opened it. He turned around to make sure Angel was still sleeping, before another moment's hesitation about whether or not he should leave. However, before he could change his mind, Collins stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Fuck," he breathed and clasped his hands behind his neck and stretched. He walked down the hallway to the elevator, passing the nurses' station as he went, where he noticed Emily was standing behind a desk, looking very busy and kinda stressed.

"Hey," he softly spoke and leaned against the desk. Emily looked up and smiled wearily; fatigue having taken over a long time ago… she was working a double shift and was wondering why she had gotten into the public health service to begin with.

"Hi," she replied and dropped her pen, grateful that something was able to divert her attention even just for a little while.

"You still here, huh?"

"Ha," Collins chuckled and smiled warmly. "I doubt Angel would let me leave either way… but I wanted to stay anyway."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping."

"About time."

"No fuckin kidding…"

Neither of them really knew what to say – even talking required effort than neither of them had.

"You should go home or something, Collins," Emily advised him. She and he had gotten to know each other over the past few days and they were friendly enough to know each other on a first name basis. Unlike most other doctors and nurses, Emily actually seemed to really care about Angel – and all the other patients she tended to, of course – but she really did care. "You've been here all week."

"I can't. I promised Angel I'd stay, and he wants me here."

"I know. But take it from me; you're not doing him or yourself any good by hanging around here… you're half dead, yourself."

Collins sighed and shook his head, dejectedly. "It's not that simple."

Emily smiled sympathetically and leaned back in her chair. "It never is. Where you heading?"

"Get something to eat. Want anything?"

A look of absolute gratitude swept across her face and she nodded, reaching for her purse. "Coffee would be great. I'd love you forever."

Seeing her pull some money out of her purse, Collins shook his head and waved for her to stop. "No, hey, I got this. Put your cash away."

"But I—"

"It's cool, I got this… how'd you take it?"

"Black. Two sugars." Emily paused. "Thanks so much."

"No problem… gives me something to do."

Fifteen minutes later, he was walking back towards the nurse's station with two cups of coffee, and a sandwich that would satisfy the hunger that was growling in his stomach. Hospital food is well known for not being that great, but at this point Collins would take anything that's edible. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the floor Angel was on, and leaned against the back of the small compartment as the doors closed and he felt himself moving upwards. The soft humming of the motorized network that pulled the elevator up, combined with the gentle piano elevator music did little to distract him from his thoughts that were plaguing him. Little did he realize just how close those fears of his were… and would be confronted with in just a few minutes.

A few seconds later the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to the dimly lit hospital corridor and stepped out. It was like an invisible wave of anesthesia and drugs – it was nauseating! But, nevertheless, Collins once again braved the sickening smell; the sickening taste of the chemicals that were trying to not just prevent death and preserve life, but improve the quality of the lives that were lingering between mortality and eternity.

Collins turned into the next corridor and saw Emily's work desk not too far ahead, so he walked towards her and the scent of the warm coffee was tantalizing and refreshing, and he couldn't wait to get it running down his throat. As he approached her, Emily heard footsteps approaching and looked up.

"Oh my God I love you!" she gushed and reached up for her coffee. Collins gave it to her and placed his own cup and the sandwich on the desk. "Thank you so much!"

"We all need a boost," Collins muttered and sipped his coffee. "How long you got left on your shift?"

"You won't believe it," Emily retorted with a touch of anger, which startled him. "I just got a call from my 'superior'. She says I may be needed to work a third straight shift!"

"You're kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood?"

"Can they do that?"

"I wouldn't have thought so, but apparently they can." Emily was extremely bitter and the warm liquid that ran down her throat was only soothing her calms just a little. She was glad Collins was there to keep her company, as it did get lonely when pulling the skeleton shift at the hospital – eerily quiet with the aura of death surrounding her wasn't her ideal situation to be in.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Who knows," Emily admitted. "I'm so fucking tired right now…"

Then, both heard a small clicking sound, which actually was the PA system being switched on, and suddenly a voice was heard echoing through the speakers. Emily winced at the sudden elevation of the noise, which wasn't that loud, but given the silence that had encompassed them both for the past few hours, it was annoying.

"Will Thomas Collins please report to reception. I repeat, will Thomas Collins please report to reception?" the unfamiliar voice paged the professor, whose jaw dropped in complete shock.

"What the fuck?" he muttered and glanced at Emily who also had the same puzzled expression on her face.

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER

The elevator doors opened again and a confused and even slightly dazed Tom Collins stepped off onto the ground level floor of the hospital and looked around. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows over various objects and only further enhanced the depressing image of hospitals that were already imprinted into his mind. Turning left, the reception wasn't too far away but Collins made sure to take his time. Whatever the reason for being called there, he didn't want it to take too long – he just wanted to get back to being with Angel.

"I'm Tom Collins," he spoke to the man behind the desk upon his arrival to the reception. The man looked up and eyed the African-American man standing before him, and simply pointed in the direction of the sliding doors in which one exited the hospital facilities.

"A young man asked you to be paged, he asked me to inform you that he is waiting outside."

"Did you get a name?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

He sighed. "Never mind. Forget it."

Collins left the desk and walked across the waiting room, and the doors slid open as he approached. As soon as he walked outside, the cool night air slammed against his body like he was walking into a brick wall, but instead of recoiling from it, Collins welcomed it as it was cleansing of the stench of the hospital from his body. New York City lived up to its hype, as it was a city that never slept… never shut down. So to look up to the sky in wanting to see the stars would be a waste of time, because the lights of the city were so obviously overpowering that it stripped away any magic the night sky might be willing to share. It was even at the point where late at night, it was brighter outside than it was inside.

Collins stopped after walked about fifteen feet from the main building, and he looked around for whoever it was who called him down. Why wasn't he being more cautious, given the circumstances under which he was at the hospital? You may wonder. He was beyond the point of fear now, not courageous, but just not as cautious as he would've been if he was with Angel or any of his friends.

"Collins?"

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest so hard that it felt like his own ribs were about to crack from the pressure. Slowly, he turned around and his breath caught in his chest at who he saw standing there in front of him. Samuel Michaels was leaning against the wall with a somewhat concerned and even intimidated look on his face. It took a few moments for it to fully register with Collins just who was standing there. Frozen where he was, time itself was freezing around him too – the shock factor was off the scales at just how willing Sam was to confront him. The only movement Collins could muster was the rapid blinking as if trying to cleanse his eyes to make sure he was seeing who he was seeing, for real.

Feeling started to come back to him, and without one word, Collins lunged at Sam and before he could react, Collins' fist connected with his ex-lovers face, just under his left eye. Sam's body hit the wall with extreme force and he yelled out in pain, but Collins was unrelenting in his assault – everything he felt towards this man was now being translated into punishment of a physical nature. With tears freely falling from his eyes now, Collins laid into him and delivered blow after blow to Sam's stomach and face.

"YOU GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled and punched Sam hard in the stomach, sending the man sliding against the wall, and blood was coming from his nose now. He was crying and trying to shield himself as much as possible from the blows by covering his face with his arms and drawing his knees up to his chest; curling up into a ball. Collins gritted his teeth – his muscles were tense and his dominant physical stature over Sam was being put to good use now.

"I'll kill you, you—"

"Collins!" Sam was coughing and spluttering now, and felt a hot, sticky, metallic tasting substance in the back of his throat. Blood. For the first time in three months now, Collins was on top of Sam again – but this time, not in a good way as his weight crashed down on to the substantially lighter man. Almost straddling him as Sam had only recently done to Angel a few days earlier, they were mostly out of view from the main street and entrance to the hospital so Collins wasn't really worried about his 'time' with Samuel being interrupted.

"Stop! God dammit!"

Pausing from beating the crap out of him for a split second, Collins grabbed him around his throat and began to squeeze – would he be able to stop himself from going all the way? But the look on his face was one that would kill a thousand times over, if looks could kill – the rage in his eyes could never match the rage in his heart, and if there was ever a more perfect time to kill Sam – this was it. He leaned down. Sam's eyes starting bulging and he was gagging for air, his face turning red. He was struggling under Collins' weight, but could not free himself of the stronger man's grasp.

"You almost killed him… you raped him… when you did, you raped and killed me… why shouldn't I return the favour?"

For obvious reasons, Sam couldn't speak, but he just gasped and made really bad choking sounds as Collins' fingers tightened around him further and air was becoming restricted to his lungs. But Collins still didn't release him and fought every urge in him to kill him right there and then. After a few more moments, just when Sam became convinced he was really gonna die, Collins finally removed his fingers from around his neck – he had been squeezing so much that he actually left finger imprints in the sides of Sam's neck. He then stood up and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the wall… very familiar to what happened with Sam and Angel, the same type of scene had played out. Outwardly, Collins was in tears… but his heart was crying too – crying tears that were like poison to his body and as such all of his strength went into not killing Sam, and being able to remain in control of the situation. The nerve that Sam had in turning up here and calling him out, literally, was something he couldn't understand.
Collins pressed his own body weight against Sam's and held his hand over the junkie's mouth and leaned so close that their noses were almost touching – he could see the panic and terror in his eyes and thought that this must have been what Angel went through only days before. That thought was definitely enough for him to keep Sam in that position, where he could easily break his neck or do something to put the scum out of his misery. Collins then used his other, free, hand and tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and yanked back hard, and heard a muffled scream in response.

"Give me one reason, Sam. One reason not to kill you!"

Sam had, now, many cuts and bruises on his faces and was bleeding quite profusely from his nose and his mouth. Shallow coughs resulted in Sam buckling under the weight of his ex, and Collins' hand and his shirt became quickly covered in the blood. Both of their tears were meeting and dissolving in the blood, a symbolic and yet still very dangerous situation. Sam's eyes searched the through darkness and torment of Collins' soul and didn't see any mercy… any hope… not even much anger. All he saw was pure pain and heartache.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: in the next chapter, the confrontation between Sam and Collins continues and Julian reappears in the next chapter.

Please review. I'd appreciate it.