Title: He Thinks His Name Was John
Theme(s): Memory
Characters: Saguru Hakuba, Male OC, Male OC
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character Death
Summary: In a time where death was common and the sick were outcasts, one man must survive under a death sentence.
Note: Based on the ideas of the disease when I was growing up in the 1980's, in no way reflects modern thoughts and procedures.
He Thinks His Name Was John
"You have Kaposi's Sarcoma," the doctor said, not looking at the blond on the exam table, but instead at the chart before him. "The gay cancer."
Saguru stared out of the window of his London apartment, watching as the people on the street rushed back and forth, busy with their lives, consumed by the moment, not giving a thought to the future before them.
"We don't know what causes it, or how it's spread, we just know that it mostly effects gay men."
"I'm not gay."
"Of course you're not," the doctor snorted at that, turning a page in his notes, handing Saguru a leaflet, making sure not to touch the blond's skin. "This is what you have to look forward to."
Saguru turned away from the window, sipping his coffee, staring at the rows of pill bottles all neatly lined up on his desk. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing thickly before reaching out for the first one, shaking out a tablet before moving onto the next, and the next after that.
"I'm sorry, Hakuba, but we can't keep you on the force while you're sick."
"I have cancer, Nakamori, it's not a cold that's suddenly going to clear up."
"Please turn in your badge and gun."
Saguru crossed the day off the calender before shutting off the living room light, heading for the bathroom. He pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste, staring at his pale reflection in the mirror before opening the cabinet, not wanting to see his reflection.
He put toothpaste on the brush, spitting in the sink, ignoring the blood that swirled down the drain as he started brushing his teeth, avoiding the right side of his mouth where the minty toothpaste irritated the ulcer on the inside of his cheek.
The phone rang and he cursed, biting his toothbrush as he dashed for the bedroom, the closest extension, grabbing it on the fourth ring, before the answering machine picked up. "Hewow?"
"Saguru? Where have you been old boy, you're missing the party!" Edward said, the sounds of drunken revelry sounding behind him.
"Really, Saguru, you need to let loose, all this talk of murder and theft, it's a bore, my good man!"
"I'm loose enough, Edward," Saguru said dryly, wrinkling his nose at the smell of whiskey pouring off of his friend.
"Of course you are, but it never hurts to be even looser. Try this, one hit and you will ever think the same way again." Edward held out a slender fag to his friend, Saguru's nose picking up an herbal smell stronger then just the tobacco it appeared to be.
He took the fag, eying it for a moment before placing an end to his lips, leaning forward as Edward lit the joint, the poisoned smoke curling up around them as Saguru inhaled. He blew out after a long moment, a smile curling over his lips as the drug flooded his system. "Now all I need is some of your father's scotch and the Headmaster storming about and it would be the same as if we were in school." he said with a smile, clapping Edward on the back.
"That's a boy! Say, I think John's back in town, you really should go talk to him, Saguru. Didn't you guys have that thing back at school?"
Saguru snorted, taking another drag. "John and I had nothing more then a mutual agreement to get off. Much like you and Mitchel."
"Yes, yes, good times. Still, wouldn't hurt to get laid you know. You can't be obsessed with work forever, Saguru."
Saguru stared down at the tombstone, body shaking as his eyes traced the name etched in smooth marble. John Lancaster. Saguru swallowed thickly, the taste of blood heavy on his tounge.
"Bad luck that, dead of cancer at only thirty-five." Edward said, shoving his own hands into his overcoat, hunched against the bitter English winter. "Never told anyone he was sick, just up and died. His fiancee's completely out of her mind."
Saguru tried to turn out Edward's words, instead fighting against the urge to claw at the stone, anger and rage taking control of him, fighting against his own morals to dig up the body and shred it to pieces.
"My wife refuses to even hug me anymore, she's afraid she'll catch it."
"She might, they're starting to say it's sexually transmitted."
"What a load of crap. It's the 'gay cancer', I certainly haven't fucked a fag."
Saguru sat in the quiet dim of his apartment, bottle of vodka held loosely in his hand as he watched the sunset over the building across the street. He took another sip of vodka, staring blearily at the now empty bottle before tossing it across the room, watching it hit the wall and roll across the floor before reaching out for another, having to make a few attempts before finally grabbing it.
He opened the bottle and took a sip, eyes resting on the scattered mail on the floor. He crawled carefully, trying not to spill the vodka as he lay on the floor and picked up the stiff ivory invitation, blinking as the purple words flowed in and out of focus before finally stabilizing as he read a blurred resemblance to his best friend's name, inviting him to Edward's wedding.
"Lucky bastard," Saguru whispered, downing another large drink of his vodka before rolling over onto his back, nearly choking on the liquid before it finally went down. He raised his arm, staring at the large purplish blotches decorating his skin before lowering his arm and taking another sip of vodka, a tear sliding down his face, salting the alcohol.
"Most men die of pneumonia, or another infections disease. It can be something as simple as a cold that simply won't go away, or maybe even the cancer will spread to your lungs and digestive tract, we don't know. We do know that there is no cure, no survival rate. Most men diagnosed die within six months to two years of diagnosis. I would suggest, you make plans now for your death."
The machine echoed noisily, causing Saguru's eye to twitch but there was nothing he could do, except watch the machine breath for him. Often he would watch the nurses, walking around in their scrubs, masks and gloves, doing nothing except the absolutely necessary so that they wouldn't touch him.
He flipped another page in his book, trying not to feel disgusted at their behavior, taking another breath with the aid of the machine, watching the words on the page as they grew out of focus and then in again. He wasn't even drunk so he couldn't blame his failing vision on alcohol.
The door to the room opened and another masked and covered individual walked in, taking a seat by his bed. Saguru turned his head slightly, looking at Edward's sad eyes before giving a weak snort. He grasped the white board next to his bed and wrote something on it before turning the board so Edward could see it.
'You look ridiculous.'
Edward smiled behind his mask, reaching out, his gloved hand hovering over Saguru's hair before falling away, never touching the blond. "I should. Why didn't you say anything, Saguru?"
The blond shrugged, setting the board down in his lap, turning away to glance out the window that only looked into other rooms. He felt something touch his shoulder and he turned, looking at Edward who looked surprised at his own action. The hand on Saguru's shoulder fell away, and Edward stared at his feet.
Saguru shook his head, about to turn away again when a hand, a real, warm hand grasped his and he looked, staring at Edward's hand over his, fingers interlocking.
"You could have told us," Edward said softly, grasping Saguru's hand tightly, tears visible under the plastic of the face mask. "We love you, sick and all."
Saguru wrote something on the board, wording shaky from only having one hand. He turned it towards Edward, staring into those teary blue eyes.
'You can barely even touch me now, let alone then.'
"They...the doctors..." Edward swallowed, staring at his feet. "I don't want to catch it," he whispered brokenly.
Saguru squeezed Edward's hand, before slipping his hand free. Edward reached out to grasp that hand again, before his courage failed and his hand fell to his lap. The pair sat in silence, letting the light around them fade as the sun took it's decent.
Saguru Hakuba contracted the disease known as AIDS in 1983, after a one night stand with, according to his journal, who he thinks was a man named John Lancaster. John Lancaster also died of what is suspected to have been AIDS, three months before Mr. Hakuba.
Mr. Hakuba had been a detective with the Scotland Yard, earning many awards and commendations, including one for the capture of one of the world's most renown thieves. Shortly after Mr. Hakuba's death, his best friend Edward Humphrey and his wife Melissa had a child, they named their son Saguru Humphrey in honor of their friend.
That is why I am proud to carry his name, and call Mr. Hakuba my hero. -Saguru Humphrey, age 10