“What the hell is wrong with you!” Gavan called out as he let their apartment door slam shut behind him. He was balancing the pizza box on one hand while he scanned for where Trist was hiding.

“Should I make a fucking list?” A pathetic voice floated back. “Or would you like me to draw you a picture?”

He slid the box across the counter, knowing Trist would eat or not and no amount of fussing would change his mind. Trist wasn’t watching tv, he was curled up under a blanket in one corner of the sofa. It appeared he’d been there for a while as his glass of iced tea was empty and Trist had the settled in to hibernate look about him.

“You told Val to make an appointment?” He flicked Trist’s have buried head as he moved past to plop onto the sofa.

The blanket crept higher over Trist’s head. “Seemed a good idea at the time.”

“You really hurt him, you should apologize to him. He thinks you don’t like him because of what you two did.”

That got Trist to sit up. “He told you?”

“No, but you’re going to tell me. What’s going on? Just what happened between you two?”

“Gav,”

“No, not this time, you’re going to explain why you’re dicking around with his feelings. You’d better be able to explain cause if this is all some game to you, so help me Trist…” Seeing Val with a tear blotchy face wasn’t right, it felt against the natural order of the world.

“I slept with him.” Trist let the words drop as if they were too heavy to carry further.

“Sleep sleep or sleep sleep?” Gavan asked, adding tone to make one mean an activity with snoring and the other with moaning.

“I’m this close,” Trist held his hand up, index finger barely an inch from his thumb. “To falling for that man. I almost like who I am when I’m around him and Gavan, when he touches me, everything goes silent.”

“You’re able to focus that much?”

“No, Gav, it’s not me, it’s him. I don’t think he knows he’s doing it but he does, I, fuck, he’s amazing.” He sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around his body.

“Then why are you doing this? You’re making both of you miserable.”
“I had a dream.” The tone was cryptic enough that there was no doubt what kind of dream and if it was a good one or not.

“And?”

“If I help him, he’ll get killed. I can’t do that, I can’t be the cause of that! I can’t! I’d rather have him hate me and be alive. You know me, if I’m around him, I’ll help him. I can’t not tell him something I see.” He hoped that would be enough for Gavan to leave him alone.

“You can’t know for certain that helping him will lead him there. You might be able to change things, make a difference? You’ve said yourself nothing is ever really written in stone.” He wasn’t sure if he could tolerate both of them pining for each other.

“I know Gav, I know, with this I do.”
“You’re using this as an excuse.”

“Fuck right I am!” He snapped back. “Rude of you to point it out too!”

Gavan just smiled.

“Look, I can’t do it. I know what I am, I’d rather push him away then have him dump me in a few months. I don’t think I could stand that. So, yeah, I’m being a coward too but it’s meant in the best of ways. Happy? I was feeling like shit, now I feel lower.”

“You’re being an idiot, you know that right?”

Trist frowned and borrowed deeper into his misery and blanket. “Maybe but I can’t be the cause of his death, I can’t. Besides, he’ll be happier with a normal person.” And no matter how he tried to look at himself, normal wasn’t a word that ever applied.

Gavan shook his head and flipped on the tv. “Idiot.”

Friday was a waste of time, Val spent most of it running across town only to be ignored. The few members of the police willing to listen to him, quickly dismissed his concerns. At best, they recommended he speak to someone else who either recommended he speak to someone else or flat out told him he was wasting their time. Saturday hadn’t been any more productive, the only difference was he returned to his apartment in the afternoon instead of early evening.

Val dropped his keys into the basket by the door without thinking, peeled off his coat and dropped the folder of papers on his counter. Before he could think about what to do next, his phone started ringing. He grabbed it and noticed the flashing light of his answering machine at the same time.

“Hello?”
“Hello? I’m trying to reach Valentine York.” A steady woman’s voice spoke over the line.

“That’s me.”

“Mr. York, my name is Linda Woods, I’m a nurse here at Bently Memorial Hospital. We’ve been trying to reach you for the better part of the day, I’m glad we were able to.” Her voice stayed pleasant.

“What’s this in reference to, Ms. Woods? I’m sure whoever is covering for me told you I’m on vacation this week.”

“Excuse me?”

Something cold settled into Val’s stomach. “I’m a therapist on staff at Harbor Mercy but this isn’t related to that, is it?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. York. There’s been an incident, you are the listed as the emergency care giver for Tristram Maddocks, aren’t you?”

Was he? Val wasn’t sure. “Yes.” He heard himself saying but nothing felt right.

“Good, if you could come down here, we need you to sign some papers and we could use some help locating next of kin.”

“I’ll call his cousin, he’s Trist’s next of kin.”

“Gavan Maddocks?”

The cold turned to ice. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Gavan Maddocks’ been injured. The two of them were brought in to the ER last night.”

“Where can I find you? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Val wasted no time with thought. As he pulled his coat back on and dug his keys back out, he was out the door and rushing down to grab a cab. There was no debate about taking the bus, time mattered. His heart pounded in near panic under his ribs and too much of the calm, steady nurses voice reminded him of the call he’d received about Violet. They’d asked him gently to come to the hospital, told him there was an accident, told him it had been serious. No one had mentioned that they were dead until he was actually at the hospital. He couldn’t stop that fear from settling into him now.

The taxi ride was too long, Val bit his tongue to keep from yelling at the driver to go faster. When they’d pulled up outside of the hospital, the only other one in the city, Val tossed the money at the man and hurried out. He’d been to Bently before Violet’s death but that had been for work and the day he’d come here for her had blurred into a hazy mash of grief and shock.

Still, he managed to find Linda Woods, the ICU nurse that had called him, with little effort. She was a soothing woman, dressed in scrubs covered in cheerful prints with hair that swept back in set waves. Val spotted her name tag and approached her directly.

“Ms. Woods? I’m Valentine York, we just spoke?” He offered his hand as he came closer but found his eyes darting to the beds hidden behind curtains and glass walls.

“Mr. York, thank you for coming by so quickly. Has anyone spoken to you yet?”

He just shook his head.

“Gavan’s right this way, I was just on my way to check on him.” She smiled and walked away toward one of the sections of beds.

Val followed, stunned and mute. The nurse pushed a half pulled curtain all the way back against the wall and Val stopped following. Gavan lay there, tucked into the too white sheets, wrapped in bandages. A breathing tube was down his throat, an IV dripped into his body, his eyes were tapped shut.

“What happened?” He heard himself whispering as the nurse moved to collect the information from the half dozen machines all hooked up to the still man.

“He was shot, last night, while out with his cousin.”

“Shot? How seriously?”

“Quite, the doctors weren’t sure he’d live to see the morning but he’s tough and a fighter and doing okay. It’s still touch and go. We found the paper stating you held emergency legal guardianship to both of them and have been trying to contact you since. We’ve some paperwork for you to sign.” She finished making notes on the charts and dropped the folder back at the foot of the bed.

Val followed the nurse back to the central station. “What happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I can have a doctor explain the surgery to you.”

“Is he going to be okay? I mean, he looks so…” He glanced back over his shoulder.

“He lost a lot of blood before the paramedics arrived. The bullet collapsed a lung, nicked his heart, but the surgeons were able to repair the damage. Right now, he’s sedated and resting. He’s going to need his strength, this was a major trauma, a difficult surgery and with the blood loss. With a bit of luck, he’ll be fine.” She smiled comfortingly.

There wasn’t anything he could do for Gavan. “Where’s Trist?”

“I should have someone from psych speak to you. That’s one of the things we needed your signature for, Tristram needs to be committed, at least for the short term and we need to know what medications he’s currently on.”

Val glanced back to where Gavan was lost in his sea of equipment, looking pale and weak on the bed. “I’m going up there.”

“Sir?”

“Now, I’m going up there, right now.” He shook off the nurses arm and pushed his way to the bank of elevators.

The psych ward was, by it’s nature, a secure floor. He could only go so far before having to be let in, swiped in, or invited in. Luckily for Val he didn’t have to wait long for help as the ICU nurse must have phoned up to watch for him.

This nurse was younger, prettier, but just as protective of her domain. “Mr. York?”

“Yes.”

“If you’d wait here, in this room?” She pulled open a private waiting room door for him. A room used to inform family members of how crazy their crazy relation actually was. “I’ll have a doctor meet you shortly.”

“No.” Val knew what he had to do and it didn’t have any remote connections to waiting. He fished his Harbor Mercy ID out of his coat pocket and presented it. The two hospitals weren’t quite in competition but it was well known that Mercy was superior in a lot of things. Mercy’s psych services blew Bently’s out of the water.

The nurse just blinked uncertain she’d heard the stern refusal.

“Tristram Maddocks is in my care and I’d consider it a professional curtsey to see him without delay.”

“I’ll have to receive permission from Dr. Fenderbach. Please, wait here.”

“I’m attempting to be nice, Tristram is a special case, his care is complicated. I must see him now.” Val took a step forward and used his height to look down on the shorter woman.

“Mr. Maddocks is currently in a quiet room, he can be brought to you.”

“Take me to him, now.” He flipped his id around his fingers. “Please, don’t make me call my supervisors.” It was well known that Mercy had the better psych staff because the doctors were absolute hard asses, which they were, and because they were fiercely protective of their therapeutic staff members.

The nurse eyed the id and weighed the amount of trouble she’d get into if her boss was chewed out by Val’s boss. She sighed. “Alright, I guess it can’t hurt.”

There was a different smell to psych floors. Val always noticed it and oddly enough, felt comfortable around it. There was something to the scent, something of panic or confusion, isolation and antiseptic that made him feel like he was in a place he could control. The floor here was smaller then the one Val worked on, older too with heavy doors that screeched when open or shut to the smaller semi-private rooms and to the smaller still isolation rooms.

The door they stopped in front of was unusually silent and as the nurse turned a key she wore on a chain attached to her body in the lock. The door slid inward and she frowned. “This isn’t right.”

Val pushed the woman aside, none to gently and stopped in the door way. Trist lay, curled along the far corner, naked but for the straight jacket he was strapped tightly in. His pale, slender legs were drawn up and they were mottled with red, purpling bruises. Anger swelled into Val and the look he gave the nurse was enough to make her step back. He stepped out into the hall and found a shelf stacked with sheets near a nurses station.

“I want to know what medications and in what dosages you’ve put him on. I want him released, now. If I’m not leaving this hospital in the next ten minutes, I’m calling the fucking police, do you understand me?” He snagged several of the sheets and pushed past the stunned woman.

“But someone should have checked on him, he was fine when I left last night.”

Val glared at her. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes sir.”

That was all he needed to hear, his attention fully turned to Trist. Val approached the huddled, sad form carefully but there was no panic or violence in the half opened eyes. In fact, Trist gave no indication that he was aware of anything around him. Val soothed a hand over his tangled, sweat soaked hair that fell loose since they hadn’t allowed him to keep the band.

“Trist?” Nothing, not even a flinch. “Let’s get you out of this thing.” Val started pulling at the buckles that were fastened on the borderline of too tight and one by one freed Trist from the restraining canvas. Even once he slid the jacket off the slender body, Trist didn’t react, his eyes didn’t even flicker to see who was handling him. Val quickly wrapped the blankets around the bruised body. “I’m here, Trist, I’m here, don’t worry, we’re getting out of here.”