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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Land Whore - 29. Chapter 29

Date: Unknown



Light and pain. Those were the first sensations I remembered. Then I heard beeping. So tired. Darkness.

Light and no pain. Much better. I heard voices, but I couldn't identify them. I couldn't even tell if they were sad, worried, or even happy. I strained to listen, trying to work my brain through the fog, trying to reach through to the real world. But I was so tired. Darkness again.

Light and awareness. I felt nothing, my body was numb, but at least I was coherent. I willed my eyes to open but they wouldn't. I willed my hands to move, but they wouldn't. I tried to talk but I couldn't. I felt trapped in my body, a body that was useless. My mind drifted. I was back in Paris, 13 years old, in the tunnel with the sailor. He was rough and horny, and took no precautions, made no preparations. He merely turned me around and rammed his big dick into my ass. I remembered the searing pain, remembered hiding the tears and smothering the screams, hoping that the pain would give way to pleasure as it did the first time I'd been fucked, but it didn't. Then there had been the bleeding, almost a torrent from my sore ass. And then Marc had found me and taken me back to his place. He'd nursed me, helped me recover, and then taught me how to be a good lover. I smiled inwardly thinking about him. But I was still so tired. Drifting off back into the darkness.....

I was awake again and still felt nothing, still couldn't move my hands or open my eyes. But I could hear more clearly now. I heard voices and I forced myself to focus, to zero in on them.

“He hasn't moved in four days,” said a voice I didn’t recognize. “We've kept him plied with pain medicine so he doesn't feel anything. The bullet missed his heart but lodged against his spine. We removed it, and it seemed to have lost momentum when it pierced his ribcage so it doesn’t appear that there was major damage to the spinal cord. Still, it is too soon to tell.”

“Are you sure he isn't in pain?” That was JP's voice! JP was here! I felt my heart jump for joy. He'd solve my problems. He'd make sure they helped me get better.

“We're pretty confident.”

JP's voice again. “What a stupid crime, and a stupid waste. The funeral is supposed to be tomorrow.” He sounded somber.

Someone was dead? I wracked my brain. Two cracks. Two shots. One hit me, and Greg was next to me. The other one must have hit him. And there was a funeral. Greg? Was Greg dead? God no! Not Greg. I was in agony, and I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't cry.

How unfair. I finally find a man that makes me happy, that sweeps me off my feet. A man that loves me, all of me, and that I love back with all my heart. A man that satisfies my desires, something I thought would be impossible; a man I was willing to be monogamous with. And he was gone? NO! I wanted to shriek but I couldn't. My body was dead on the outside, and now it was dead on the inside too. I let the painkillers work on my emotions too, sweeping me back to sleep, back to oblivion.

Every time I woke up I forced myself back to sleep. I didn't want to face the world alone. I didn't want to go on without Greg. Today there was someone with me, someone staring at me. I could feel eyes on my face, even if I couldn't see.

“Wake up Stef. Come on. I don't have that many friends. Hell, I don't have any friends. You're the only friend I have.” It was Roger. How sweet of him to come see me. “I treated you like shit. I lied to you, deceived you, hurt you and fucked you over, and you still forgave me. You took me back into your life. You've made me so happy, made me feel good about myself again. I know we can't be together, but I do love you, and I'm so happy with where we are right now. You have to come back. You have to wake up.”

He was so sweet. And he was right. He had fucked me over. But I was happy with him too. We'd gotten to a good place. And he was a great lover. I giggled to myself. Or at least I thought I did. But he wasn't Greg. He finally left me and I felt even more alone. It was nice to be loved and to love.

I went in and out of my daze. I don't know how long it lasted. There were lots of people who came to visit me. JP was there constantly. Sam was there, and so was Isidore. Tonto sat with me for awhile, chewing me out. Armand was there a couple of times, once with Scott. Peter came by, and so did Jackie. They loved me and I loved them, but they weren't Greg. I drifted back into somnolence. When I slept the pain went away.

Someone was holding my hand again. I could actually feel a hand in mine! How exciting! It was the first feeling I'd had. It was a small hand. A voice was whispering softly in my ear.

“You have to wake up! I need you!” it said urgently. “Blood brothers aren't supposed to leave each other behind.” It was Brad. “I hope you can hear me. I have to be quiet because I'm not supposed to be here, but I snuck in. I know you'd be proud of me for breaking the rules.” I wished that I could laugh. He was so funny.

“I'm so confused about things, about boys. I think I'm gay, and I don't know what to do about it. How am I going to grow up dealing with that without you to help me? I always knew that I'd be OK with it because you'd be there to guide me along. And now all you do is sleep.”

His words hit me like a rock. I thought of him as the son I never had, and apparently the bond was just as strong on his end. I couldn't let this kid down. I had to be there for him. Even if Greg was gone, I owed it to Brad to get my shit together. He'd endured a lot more than I had. His father had died, his mother had killed herself, his biological father had been killed, and his brother and sister hated him. He'd picked me to be his anchor. I couldn't let him down. I felt the resolve flowing through my body, commanding it to respond, commanding it to return to sentience.

“They say that you've been asleep so long you may not wake up. I know you will though. You just need some help.” I felt him holding my hand and something sharp pricked my finger. My ability to feel seemed to be flowing back to me. I opened my eyes slightly and saw Brad there. He looked around furtively and pricked his own finger, then smashed it into mine, just like we'd done when we were in Paris. I smiled and actually felt my face move.

“Young man, what are you doing?” said a nurse, interrupting Brad.

“He's my blood brother. I'm bonding with him.”

“Nonsense. You can't do that, you'll hurt him.” I hated people like this who were just so focused on rules they couldn't see the human element. “You'll have to leave.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he said defiantly. “I'm staying right here.”

The nurse was about to yell at him when he suddenly exclaimed: “His eyes are open!” There was Brad, nose to nose with me, staring into my eyes like he'd be able to see inside. His eyes were so beautiful. They were green like the color of a well-maintained lawn, with a twinkle. There was a rush of feet and Brad was ultimately hustled away. I missed him terribly.

Then JP's face was there, smiling at me. Almost as good as Brad's, I thought. “So you're awake. It's about time. You've been out for two weeks.” I felt his lips on mine as he gave me a loving kiss. I looked into his eyes, desperate to know the truth about Greg. I willed my mouth to speak but it didn't. I gripped his hand. At least that was working. Please JP, please read my mind. Please tell me how Greg is. Tell me he isn't dead. Please.

I saw a spark in his eye. “I'll tell Greg that you're awake. He'll be so excited.” He was alive! Greg was alive! Where was he?! He wasn't dead! Life could start again! I moved my hand and he smiled.

“We need to check him out,” a doctor said.

“He'll need to see his partner as soon as possible,” JP insisted.

“We can't bring Mr. Anders into intensive care. He's recovering from his own wound.”

“He can be wheeled in here.”

“That's impossible,” asserted the man.

“It most certainly is not.” Sam appeared at his side. “Sam, will you stay here with Stefan. I have to go find the hospital administrator and get him to explain to this physician that Greg needs to be brought in here.” JP left and the doctor glared after him. I was ecstatic. This doctor didn't stand a chance. JP blew through red tape like a bull through a red cape.

Brad was back here with Sam now, holding my hand. I tried to squeeze and it worked! He smiled at me. “Papa, he squeezed my hand!” The doctors grabbed my hand away from his and looked at it. They were seriously pissing him off. And then Brad was gone. I missed him so much. He was the one who brought me back.

“Brad,” I heard my voice, hoarse and weak, say. Sam smiled at me and nodded and brought Brad back to my side. “Stay,” I said to him. He smiled, a huge smile, perhaps because he knew how important he was to me, or perhaps because he was just happy that I was coming out of my fog.

Then Sam was gone and JP was back. Brad stayed with me, holding my hand and stroking it gently. “We're going to have to move you and Greg to a different hospital.” He winked at me. The hospital Administrator and a few doctors were behind him.

“You can't move him now!” one of them objected.

He ignored them. “This place is so homophobic they won't let Greg come in to see you. So I'm arranging for you to be transferred with Greg, and I've called his publicist so we get press coverage. I want the world to know what these people are like.” I knew he was bluffing, at least at this point, because Greg didn't have a publicist. But it was working. The group behind him looked horrified.

“You're asking us to circumvent hospital rules and policies,” the administrator whined.

JP turned on him with a fury I rarely saw. “I don't give a fuck about rules and policies, and you shouldn't either. The only thing that is important is that these two recover, and being together will help that. If anything, that should make you evaluate whether or not your rules make sense.” Wow. JP dropped the “F” word. He must have been really worried about me.

Ten minutes later another stretcher wheeled into my small room and Greg was with me. I couldn't turn my head to see him, but I could feel his hand in mine.

“You're awake,” he said. God, to hear his voice was like heaven.

“Yes,” I said hoarsely. Talking was hard.

“Don't talk. I know it hurts. I've been feeling sorry for myself, but that's nothing compared to what you're dealing with.” I just smiled and stroked his hand. “I want you to know that I love you, I do Stef. You are my world, my everything.” And then I drifted off with a big smile on my face.

I woke up later, still holding Greg's hand. I felt so much better. I could feel my toes, move my fingers and arms, and even smell. JP was standing there looking down at me. “Hi,” I said cheerfully, as if I hadn't been in a coma for weeks.

“Well hello,” he said. There was a man behind him. “This is the gentleman in charge of the hospital.”

“Thank you for letting Greg in here with me,” I said. “I thought he was dead.”

“I really must apologize for the misunderstanding. My staff had no instructions, and, quite frankly, we've never encountered this, uh, situation before. Because of you, and your somewhat forceful cousin, we're adapting our policies to accommodate partners.”

“That's wonderful. That's great news.” And then he was gone. “You're incredible, you know that do you not?” I said this to JP.

“I know.” he said, joking. I wasn't. “Seems to me that when I was laid up in the hospital, someone broke the rules to stay with me.” I giggled, remembering that time so long ago when he'd totaled his Pontiac. But the giggling hurt.

“You thought Greg was dead?” he asked.

“Yeah. I was alert enough to hear you talking about a funeral. There were two shots, one hit me, so I figured the other hit Greg.”

“I'm so sorry Stef. There was a third shot. After the gunman got you two, he took out your limo driver.” God that was sad. A guy just doing his job, mowed down for chauffeuring two fags around. “I didn't know you were alert. That must have really made things harder for you.”

Was that a tear in JP's eye? “Do not worry about it JP. It did make it hard. I did not want to go on without Greg, I really did not. You know how many guys I've been with, and how I never thought I could love just one man. Well, I love him. He is my world. The thought of going on without him was not worth it. Well, that is until...” I was interrupted.

“You're talking about me like I'm not in the room,” Greg said. I had forgotten he was there. God I was a mess. Holding his hand and still I forgot he was there. “That's beautiful Stef. God I want to get better and just spend the rest of my life making love to you.”

“What's wrong with you babe?” I asked.

“That fucker shot me.”

“I know that dumb ass. He shot me too. Where? And please God, not in the groin.”

He laughed. “No, in the stomach. I've been laid up with all kinds of stomach shit. Haven't had a solid bowel movement in weeks.”

“That’s more than I need to hear,” said JP. “You said until? What happened?”

“Brad. He came up and told me that he was relying on me to help him through his, uh, well...” I realized that I couldn't tell JP about Brad being gay.

“You mean because he thinks he's gay?” JP said, making it easy on me.

“Yeah. But I promised I would not reveal his secrets.”

“That's alright. He told me when you were hurt. When he begged me to bring him down here. You are his rock. You are his idol.”

“I know. That's what he told me. And I just could not bear to let him down. And do you know what he did?” I paused until I knew I had both of their attention. “He came in here and pricked our fingers just like we did in Paris to renew our blood bond.”

JP smiled big. “What a change from the ragamuffin we took over when Janice dropped him off.”

“He's a lot like you,” I told him.

“No, he's not.”

“Yes he is,” I argued. “He's smart, organized, has a ton of common sense, and will break all the rules for the people he loves. He is you, only cuter.”

JP giggled. “Cuter? That isn't possible.” That made me laugh again, which hurt. “I should go and let you two have some time alone. Sam's bringing Brad over later to see you.”

Then I heard Greg's voice. “You know, people came to see me in here because they had too. I'm kind of an asshole, so it wasn't love, they were just making sure to show respect in case I live. Not you. They came to see you because they genuinely like you. Even that Jackie Diamond. She was here crying genuine tears. Almost made me feel guilty for thinking about running her out of town a few times.”

“You're not an asshole. You are wonderful. How did I get so lucky to meet you?” I felt my heart bubbling over with joy.

“It's karma babe. You are so good, you do so much for people, it was bound to come around and pay you back. You know even Roger came to see you?”

“I know. I remember hearing him talk to me. He told me how happy he was now that we are friends. Told me I was his only friend and that he loved me, and that he was happy for us.”

“That was a nice thing to do. He is one honorable guy. When we're well, we're putting him on the list. I'm gonna fuck his brains out.” I laughed again and it hurt again. Then he let me sleep.

I woke up later to feel someone gently moving next to me. It hurt because it moved my back, but the person settled down quickly and then it felt great. I opened my eyes to see Brad staring down at me.

“Is this OK?” he asked.

“Until the nurses see you and try to kill you,” I said. He giggled.

“Thanks for waking up.”

“You're the reason I did. I heard what you said, felt you prick my finger. That's what motivated me to open my eyes.”

“I owe you big time for bringing him back,” I heard Greg say next to me.

“Can I stay here with you, while you get well? I don't want to go back to Palo Alto.”

I smiled. “Now Brad, you know you have to go to school. Besides, can you imagine how much trouble Ace would get into without you around?”

“You're probably right,” he said thoughtfully.

“Why don't you come down and spend the summer with us?” Greg said. “Maybe we can even go somewhere fun on vacation.”

“Really? You mean it? The whole summer? Wow!” Brad was super excited. “Can Ace come too?”

“Sure,” I said. I wondered what it would be like for them when they finally had to separate, when their lives moved in different directions.

The nurses came in and ranted and raved at Brad but I wouldn't let them move him. In the end, the only thing that got him off of me was his need to pee.

January 12, 1974

 

My wheelchair was surrounded by reporters, flashing pictures and shouting questions. I ignored them, trying my hardest to appear healthy so I could get the fuck out of this place. Today I was going home. Greg had been released over a week ago, and I felt so lonely and isolated in the hospital it was killing me. So he'd gotten the guest room on the first floor set up for me, and hired a nurse, a really cute young guy named Gary, to take care of me. I giggled at that. I wonder how much care Gary was willing to give. I pushed that aside. I didn't need a boy toy when I had Greg.

They carefully lifted me into the limo where I was surrounded by concerned friends. Greg was there with Armand, Scott, and Alice, while Jason had come along to keep me company as well. It was a pleasant ride home, especially since I was in such a good mood. Still, I felt cheated. I'd missed Christmas and New Year’s, and all the parties that went with them. All because some asshole had let his bigotry get out of control.

They'd caught the guy that shot us and Greg was putting enormous pressure on the Attorney General to prosecute him to the fullest. I knew Greg and his motive wasn't revenge. He wanted to send a clear signal that just because someone was gay, that didn't make it OK to kill or hurt them. Good luck with that one, I though sadly.

The limo pulled up to the house that I had missed so much and I was transferred back to my wheelchair. I still couldn't walk, but they were optimistic that I'd be able too. At least my dick still worked. Greg had given me an amazing blow job last night in the hospital, the first sex I'd had in almost a month. I think I almost drowned him when I came.

It seemed that in no time at all the hubbub had subsided and everyone was gone except Greg. We sat in the front room holding hands, gazing out at the beautiful Pacific Ocean, and watched the sun set.

January 14, 1973

Yesterday there had been a string of well-wishers, including Jackie, who'd made the pilgrimage out to my house to see me and to make sure Greg knew that they'd come to see me. I had felt exhausted after their visits, but today, Monday, was peaceful and lonely. I had Gary, my nurse here, who I found was supposed to double as my bodyguard and Alice of course, who was totally committed to meeting my every whim. I gave in to the boredom and relaxed lazily in the chair, watching mindless television in between reading the things Jenny had sent down. She'd be here tomorrow with Luke and Cecile, and that was something to look forward to.

The doorbell rang and Alice went to answer it. She came back looking concerned. “There's a young man here to see you, says his name is Ned Carney.”

“I do not think I know a Ned Carney,” I said. Still I was bored. “Go ahead and send him in.” Gary stood off to the side, alert. It was like having secret service protection.

A poorly dressed young guy came in. He wasn't attractive at all; in fact he was almost ugly. “What can I do for you Mr. Carney?”

He shuffled his feet nervously. “Please sit down,” I added, and he carefully took a seat across from me.

“Thanks for letting me see you. I honestly didn't think I'd make it past the front door, but I had to try. I had to apologize to you personally.”

“Apologize for what?” I asked curiously.

“I was the guy that was driving the car when you were shot.” I stared at him, dumbfounded, and saw Gary move from the shadows. I motioned him to stay back. This kid wasn't going to hurt me, I didn't think.

“Why did you do it?” was all I could think of to ask.

“I didn't think Ziggy was going to shoot anyone. I didn't even know he had a gun. I just thought he was going to yell at you and then we'd drive off. Stupid prank. Then when we drove by I heard him yell, well, what he yelled, and I heard the gunshots.” He was clearly strung out by all of this. “I went to the police as soon as we got home and he was out of my car, and I'll end up with a reduced sentence because I finked the other guys out. But I feel so bad, and I'm just so sorry. I've had these nightmares, imagining what you must have gone through.”

I just stared at him. He went on. “I don't expect you to forgive me, but I had to at least say I was sorry. My parents raised me to be like that. If you do something wrong, you gotta try to make it right.”

“That's a very honorable thing to do,” I heard myself say.

“No it's not. If I wouldn't have driven by you, you wouldn't have been shot.”

“Well, you did not know he had a gun, so you were just being young and stupid. I've been guilty of that as well. Most guys would be too embarrassed to come over here and face the music. Most guys would have just gone on down the road and put it past them. What you did takes character.”

“I feel real uncomfortable about you saying these nice things about me when I've been a total asshole,” he said.

“How old are you Ned?” I asked.

“Just turned 19. That makes me an adult.” The last reference was to his potential trial. He would be tried as an adult, not a juvenile.

“You must be hungry. It's lunchtime. Join me.” Gary went to tell Alice that I wanted some food and that we'd be having company.

“I couldn't do that,” he said.

“Yes you could, or can I should say. I'm here all alone and I'm bored. You can keep me company.”

He grinned, showing off his bad teeth. They completed his unattractive look. He told me all about his brief life, about growing up in California, about how someday he'd like to get married and have a family. He was positively loquacious.

Around 4pm Greg came home and interrupted our conversation. I introduced Ned to Greg. “Ned was driving the car with the guys in it that shot us. He came over here to personally apologize.” Ned shrunk as I mentioned this.

Normally Greg would have picked up on my mood and eased his pain, but not this time. He was about to let this kid really have it when I stopped him. “Thanks for coming by Ned. That was a classy thing to do.” Ned took the hint and practically ran out of the house.

“How can you let him in our house, let him sit here and chat with you like nothing ever happened?” He was pissed now, pissed at me.

“He did not know the guy had a gun, did not know he was going to shoot us. He even turned them all in to the police. He felt bad about it and came over here just to apologize to me. That takes a lot of courage and a lot of character. That's the kind of person who deserves forgiveness and a second chance.”

“But he and his friends almost took you away from me,” he whined.

I got it now. “Greg, if I'd been an asshole he'd have gone away and felt better about his friend shooting me, and he’d have gone on hating fags in general. Now he has to deal with that forever. I'm being nice to him, giving him a chance, but the road he's chosen is a lot harder than the one where he just decided to hate us.”

He just looked at me and smiled. “I'm wondering just how well you are?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm wondering if you can handle sex. You think you can?” I grinned at him.

“If you're slow and gentle, I bet I can.” So we retired to our temporary room and Greg made love to me slowly and gently, and it was wonderful.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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JP rocks... I almost feel there is nothing he would not be able to do. I thought the scene with Brad sneaking in and doing the blood brother scene again was just perfect. It is amazing what love and family can do...

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Of course JP flies down like the cavalry to take care of Stef and Greg. My oh my was my stomach in knots until Brad came and turned it all around. Stefan truly has transcended his early years by forgiving that young man. Great work, thanks.

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Leave it to JP to cause a big stink at the hospital just to make sure that Greg and Stephen got to be together. I feel that Brad did everything he could think of to get his blood brother to wake up to be there for him. Steph made the right choice with Ned in order to show him that just because he was gay that was no reason to think that he was anything but a decent human being. I'm sure he enjoyed the sex with Greg as the only thing he'd had in a month was a quick blow job from Greg in the hospital the night before his discharge.

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Chapter 29

-When Stefan lies in a coma after getting shot, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"If You Could Read My Mind" by Gordon Lightfoot

-When Roger talks to Stefan in his coma, willing his friend to wake up.

"Cherish" by David Cassidy

-When Brad talks to Stefan in his coma, willing his blood brother to wake up...and he does.

"Daniel" by Elton John

-When Stefan and Greg are reunited at the hospital.

"Your Song" by Elton John

-When Stefan talks to one of the guys who were involved with the shooting, and shows mercy.

"I'd Like to Teach The World To Sing" by the New Seekers

-When Stefan and Greg make love to each other at the end, healing from their experience.

"I'll Have to Say I Love You In A Song" by Jim Croce

 

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