Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Queer as Folk characters in this story. They belong to Showtime and Cowlip. No copyright infringement is at all intended and no money will be made.
Chapter 2
"Gus, baby, please wake up! I can't lose you after I just got you! Please baby, pull through."
"You're going wake up and be completely okay. Do you hear me sweetie? Mama and Mommie want you to wake up and be okay."
"Please baby!"
"Doctor Reynolds! Could we speak with you for a moment?"
"Of course,"
"It's just Gus hasn't woken up at all. We've been thinking maybe there's something else that's wrong with him. Something your team missed in surgery."
"I wouldn't worry about Gus not waking up, right now. We all respond differently to major surgery, but he should wake up either today or tomorrow. The surgery was a success Ms. Peterson, just try to hold out a little longer. If he doesn't wake up by tomorrow night, we can run some additional test and see what's taking him so long to recover. How does that sound?"
"I'm sorry Doctor Reynolds, we don't want to make it seem like we doubt you. It's just we're so anxious to meet our son again."
"Of course, of course…"
"I got another message from Brian,"
"Yeah?"
"He says his flight has been delayed again,"
"He must be pulling his hair out right now, I would be so upset if I was him."
"Yeah, me too."
"He sent me another message saying he's considering buying his own plane."
"He does have enough money,"
"What would that solve? The weather will still be too dangerous to fly in. We all want to see him but I think Gus would appreciate it if he's Dad didn't break his neck in order to do so."
The first thing he takes note of in his mind, when he becomes conscious, are the loud beeps emitting from the machines behind his bed and then the hum of the building. Dylan knows as soon as he cracks an eye open and takes a glance around the room that he's in the hospital. It's easy to tell with the bland white walls, tiled floors, the machines monitoring his health and IV's hooked up to his arm. Even with the dozen of cheerful flowers and strange 'Welcome Home' balloons, it still scares him to be here, in this very empty room. The only people he knows that have been in hospital's are the ones that have died or were close to dying. He doesn't want to be either.
And Dylan knows why he's in the hospital. He remembers last night as if it were a bad dream. A nightmare he can't wake up screaming from and then it fades away, because it happened and it was all real. Too real. Dylan can recount every single moment of that day until he physically can't anymore. He can push his brain to call up insignificant moments in his life, like what Mr. Jacobson was teaching in English class, the songs they listened to on the radio that morning, the color of Shannon and Mattie's clothes that day and the dog he saw on his walk home from school.
Sometimes when his mind is idle, when he's not actively pushing further into his memory bank or focusing, he hears their screams.
The windowsill is packed with cards, balloons and flowers. He can't recall the last time he's had so many gifts, probably because it's never happened before. His mom could only afford to get them one or two presents for Christmas, even with the second job she picked up during the holidays. Dylan wonders if Mrs. Blundell, his math teacher, got the whole class to send him something, like they did for Fiona when she broke her arm last Christmas. That puts a grin on his face.
He notices a big drawing perched in the front of all the gifts. Dylan thinks its Mattie's at first. His youngest brother still draws like a four year old, making stick figures with abnormally large heads and thin bodies. It isn't until he takes a closer look and notices that there are three stick figures holding hands. One with orange crayon hair and wearing a pink square dress, the second one with black hair and wearing a purple dress and the other remarkably taller with dark brown hair. And then written in almost indecipherable scrawl, 'Miss you. Cant wate two play withe you. Lov, Sarah and JR.'
Dylan knows one Sarah and she's not in his math class. Even if she were, she wouldn't do anything as dumb as spell 'wait' wrong or use the incorrect 'two.' Sarah's way too smart for simple mistakes like those. Dylan doesn't believe that there are any JR's in his whole year maybe even in the school. Most likely, he thinks that Sarah and JR left their drawing in the wrong room by accident, because he doesn't know them.
He's about to try and inspect some of the other cards from his bed when his hospital door swings open. Dylan feels himself clinch up and duck down as if he were in need of protecting. As if the door would explode from its hinges and the room would start to collapse within itself, except none of it happens. Instead two women, a tall blonde and a shorter brunette, argue as they make their way into his room.
"You know, it just baffles me how you can imagine working at a time like this," the tall blonde says to the brunette. Dylan isn't sure how he knows she's angry, but he can just tell. Whenever his mother gets upset at one of them, she yells but this strange woman, who's invaded his room, doesn't even raise her voice. If it weren't for her sharp tongue, he would almost believe she sounded pleasant.
The blonde pushes into the room and doesn't bother to hold the door for the brunette, who's carrying twice the load of bags than the blonde, before sauntering over to the chair next to Dylan's bed. Dylan catches the frustrated glare the brunette shoots her before she maneuvers into the room without help. Dylan sits up a little more in his bed and waits patiently for one of them to notice him. He hasn't had company in hours and frankly he's a little lonely. Dylan knows how to call for a nurse, he's seen it a million times on TV shows like Grey's Anatomy, but he's nervous about what he'll discover about his family. He's not ready to know why none of them are in his room waiting for him to wake up. So he sits up in bed and watches the two strange women argue.
"Our son comes back and you can't even be bothered to take a week off from work!"
"Which part is exactly confusing you, Lindsay? Is it the part where I told you I can't afford to take a week off with the case I'm on and expect my job to still be there when I get back or that our family can't afford both of us taking off from work?" The brunette fires back with a glare.
The blonde begins to unbutton her long tan winter coat, cheeks stained red, body slightly shaking in anger but the brunette doesn't even bother with any of it. She stands there facing the blonde, shoulders tense, feet spread hip width apart as if she's gunning herself up for the real battle.
Dylan has never in his life witnessed such an intense argument between two people that didn't lead into some kind of fist fight. Which is why he's sitting in his hospital bed in complete amazement that after 5 minutes, both women are still going as it without one fist being thrown. At first, Dylan thinks they must be sisters. His mother used to tell them all the time, we protect family, we don't hurt them. They have to be family to last this long in an argument without hurting the other person with their fist, Dylan reasons, but then he catches onto the fact that they keep referring to whoever their arguing over as 'our son' which would suggest that they share a son, but it's a little confusing because he isn't exactly sure who the mother is.
Though to be fair one of them could be the real mother and the other could be the step-mother. Dylan is betting that the blonde, Lindsay is the step-mother and the brunette is the real mother, but that can't be right. He picks up on a few more snatches of their conversation which is how he learns that they have two daughters and a son, how they're supposed be having more family time but the brunette has taken on more work, and how much their home cost. Dylan now has a very strong inkling that these woman are together together and they're real gay. Not like Bobby Sterne, the kid that everyone in his class called gay, but like real gay.
Which is kind of strange to him. The whole concept of gay doesn't really make sense to him and gay parents kind of boggles him. He's seen gay people on TV shows and the news but Dylan doesn't know anyone in his small town who has two moms or two dads. Maybe in the sense of 'I have a dad and a step dad' but not at all like 'I have two dads who are together and they take care of me.'
He wonders if there are any advantages or benefits of having two parents who are of the same sex. He wants to say extra care and affection, especially in a large family like his, but wouldn't any two parents no matter their sex be able to give care and affection? Possibly this is just an advantage of being raised in a two parent household. Something Dylan has never known, on the account of his father dying when he was young.
One advantage of growing up in a single parent household is that there's no crazy and intense fights between mom and dad over insignificant things such as taking time off of work. Dylan pities their poor kids if this is what they have to listen to everyday. He would take his single mother over their arguing any day.
"I promised you this before, but I'll say it again if I have to. After this case, we will have all the family time we can dream of. I promise you! I just need to finish things with this last client, okay?"
Lindsay scoffs, legs and arms cross while sitting in one of the visitors chairs, "I won't hold my breath."
The brunette drags an irritated hand through her dark hair and groans, "Dammit Linds, I'm not going to let you use me and make me feel any less than a mother than you because you're frustrated and scared. News flash that's how I feel every time I walk into this damn hospital and see our kid- who we haven't seen in 9 fucking years lying in a hospital b-b-"
She abruptly stops talking. Her mouth now unable to form any other words except, "Oh." Brown eyes widen almost comically as they lock onto blue ones. She stares at him like she knows him and maybe she does. Dylan is just beginning to wonder if the brunette and Lindsay hadn't made a mistake coming to his room after all. They must know him, they have to. The brunette and Lindsay could be his mother's old friends from when she used to tour around the country with that band she loved, or they could be distant relatives that his mother is on good terms with, coming to check up on him by her request. He struggles to sit up taller in his bed, so that they can get a good look at him. Both women rush over to help him up but the blonde, Lindsay stares at him with eyes full of tears and pets his messy hair softly.
It only takes one word to shatter any hope of his mother sending friends or family members to check up on him, and that word is, "Gus."
Because that's definitely not his name.
Chapter notes
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll try to update next week by Tuesday or Wednesday!
Preview
"Which one of them is my-my- you know?" He ask with a slight shrug, refusing meet her eyes. Dylan doesn't want to call either of those women his mother, but he hopes Ms. Jordan realizes what he's trying to ask. He isn't in the mood to explain any further than he has to. Honestly, Dylan doesn't know why he wants to know which one of them is his supposed "real mother" but deep down somewhere he cares.
She pats his shoulder and says, "that's for you to ask your parents." Of course it is.
Dylan rolls his eyes, "they're not my parents."