the angel of death is a miracle

Chapter 2

1 YEAR LATER

A light breeze wafts from the open window of his apartment, and the TV sizzles with white noise. He didn't have enough money for cable, but needed something to drown out the silence, which made him realize how truly alone he is. 

So Brian sat. Alone. In total darkness as September air fell past the window screen. He could hear New York City below him too. He wondered if there was someone who was sitting just like him. 

Alone. In total darkness. 

Always alone. 

He sipped his beer silently as his eyes glared at the TV. He needed to get out of this hell hole. He could feel his insides rotting and his legs felt like he could stretch them forever. After he'd been fired, he went into hiding. 

Well, Brian exaggerated. He wasn't fired. But after one too many accidents, they told him to leave. He couldn't get hurt anymore. 

But Brian could hardly walk after demolishing his femur- which if you didn't know- your femur is supposed to be the strongest bone in your body. He still somehow managed to break it. But he was numb to that feeling. 

He could not feel anything at all. In his arms. His legs. His brain and his heart. 

Even his soul was silent, and yet he still felt like he was in pain. Every joint and muscle was sore. His heart ached. He felt nothing and everything at the same time. 

He was DONE. 

Done with his loneliness. Done with his pain and his numbness at the same time, like how hot and cold mixes and sends him into an emotional tornado. He was wreckage. Every person he'd ever cared for has left him and found shelter... far... far away from him. 

It's not like Brian could go cry about it. He's an adult. It's his fault he can't keep anyone in his life for more than a one night stand. He's nothing to everyone. 

He sighed as he made his way to the balcony and joined the light breeze outside. His legs enjoyed the sudden walk across the crummy living room. But they still wanted to get outside. Run. 

Brian wanted to be free. Free from his brain which held him captive.His brain traumatized and tortured him for years now. The only time he felt good about anything was when he rescued that Sal Vulcano guy because in that moment...

Brian mattered. 

He had been a savior, that man had held onto him and only thought of him. He had relied on him. Depended on him. It gave Brian more purpose than he had felt in years. Brian loved his cats, but they were only enough to fill the void in his chest for so long before the hole got bigger. Emptier. 

Brian couldn't rescue enough cats to fill his void. He needed something bigger, better. He knew what he needed now. The answer had been the man, the miracle, Sal Vulcano. He knew just where to find him. 

- - - - - - 

Sal only got away from the sickening smell of antiseptic and and his own flesh a couple months ago. His skin was still tender and his heart was still heavy as he tried to process his new look, but he was managing. At least a fraction. 

It seemed like the hospital followed him here- well actually. It kinda did. Or more like, he had to march over there as if he wasn't already paying thousands and thousands of dollars on medical bills. 

Sal was kinda mad that he had to go out of his way a whole year later for visits to the hospital. To make sure that his new lungs were still working. He still couldn't get used to the idea that another persons lungs were inside of his chest. 

The germaphobic part of him was kinda grossed out, but the kind part of him was thankful. Without this dead mans lungs, he'd be dead as well. Okay, fine. He was still mostly grossed out. 

He'd spent a whole 8 weeks comatose after the building collapsing had crushed his ribs and almost broke his damn spine. His lungs had been demolished and he had to be put on the transplant list. 

Sal was scared. Every second. Everyday. He spent his free time making sure that everything was safe and easy. Couldn't sit without being ready to jump up and run, and stayed close to an exit... just in case. 

But there was still one thing that haunted him most of all. The silhouette. The man who had saved him. His mind was always wondering and awake. Even when Sal was wide awake, he was dreaming of his savior, his angel. His light, although he was only a shadow in his memory. 

Sal still hadn't met his rescuer yet.

Sal stood in the grocery store, a worried quick in his brow as his arms hugged around his skinnier torso. Being sick and half dead in the hospital really takes a toll on you. Sal missed looking normal. But now he was pale and fragile. He'd lost his good looks and his dignity. 

His ass cheeks had burns on them! Even thinking about it had his cheeks feeling hot with a stupid and very obvious blush. Nobody was stupid enough to take him to bed and get him naked anyway, so he had nothing to worry about. 

Sal felt kinda bad about that. He prided himself on being a good kisser. His friend Joe even said, he had Cupid lips- which he did. Sal sighed and picked out some apples before his gaze caught sight of a broad shouldered man. 

Oddly familiar. 

The man turned towards him and Sal felt like the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders and he could float. 

Memories came flooding back to him like a tidal wave and Sal could hardly realize he'd dropped all of his groceries onto the floor. He recognized more than just the mans outline. 

He memorized that stubble. And the hair that was growing down the mans neck and his tight lipped frown. His eyes a glimmering brown. 

He also noticed that him and that man were face to face now. Sal's eyes went wide as he filled his cheeks with air and held his breath. 

"Uhh, you dropped this." He said. 

Sal opened his mouth and let out a very soft and shy squeak. The man blinked at him, but smiled. "You okay?" The not-so-stranger asked. Sal clenched his jaw. 

"Better now..."