Reaching for Stardust // Josh Kiszka

Part XIV

Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: sexy time ;)

<3

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Indeed Josh was desperate–though thankfully not literally dying–to get home. With the green light from his doctor given that his heart rate improved and the antibiotics were in full swing, I gathered him into my car and we headed back to the apartment where his brothers still were. My tires crunched over salt and leftover snow as we drove into the monochromatic gray of our little world, the heat blasting over both of us but really so high just to keep Josh warm. He looked better–warm color had returned to his face and he actually appeared to be pretty well-rested despite not having slept in his own bed.

"You're feeling better?" I asked when we hit a red light.

"Yes, mama. Certainly better," Josh told me, then sniffed a little. "Thanks for doing all of this."

"Anything for you." I reached over to squeeze his knee. "I'm so glad you're on the mend. I don't want to bring you to the hospital ever again. Not for an illness, anyway."

"I'll do my best. What about you? I don't want you to get sick either."

"So far, so good." I hit the gas again. "Maybe the universe knows both of us can't be sick at the same time. But the boys are gonna stay today and tonight to help out and keep us company. They were coming up Thursday anyway. Might as well stick around now, right?"

"That's good that they spent the night."

"It helped. As soon as I got home without you, it felt intolerable."

Josh let out a dry laugh. "I love you."

I looked at him for a moment before I had to make a turn. "I love you more."

In my peripheral vision, I could see Josh stare out the window at the snowy streets and say, "Impossible."

Back home we were greeted by loud, excited jeers of triumph over Josh's road to recovery as well as a few bags of sick staples–more soup and broth, more Gatorade, a package of those little boxes of fruit juice, some zinc, cough drops and a big box of Rocket Pops, which Josh immediately tore into. He plopped himself down on the couch with the Rocket Pop in his mouth while Jake sat down next to him, Sam paced the living room while monologuing about how disgusting hospitals were and Danny helped me put everything away.

"You sure you guys wanna crash here again?" I asked him while he shoved the box of popsicles next to our other half-empty box of popsicles. "Don't get me wrong–I love it. But I bet it feels pretty cramped. You should all be sleeping in beds."

"We've agreed to stay here tonight," Danny told me, balling up one of the empty plastic bags. "After that we're gonna go back home."

"Aw. Sam will miss you."

"We live like, three blocks away from each other," Danny replied with a little laugh. "So do you think Josh will be able to go to Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know. Guess we'll see." I lifted a can of chicken noodle soup. "For now, this will have to do."

Jake ended up playing nurse more than I did–he spent the entire day doting on his twin, making sure he was taking his meds, feeding him, keeping him hydrated and comfortable. That gave me a chance to catch up on work, though Sam and Danny were distracting in their own right no matter what I did to try and carve out my own space. It was nice though, the coming together of everyone again for a prolonged period of time in a home base, even if that had been instigated by Josh getting sick. What mattered was that he was fully on the mend and we were all spending time together, and I found myself no longer thinking about death but rather thinking about how it might be possible to have this all the time. A commune was always sort of a joke idea, but couldn't it be real? Why couldn't we be tied together like one big, happy family? The boys had had that for many years. I was a newer addition. I wanted it to stay like that. I was pretty sure they all did too. Being apart made no sense and I got caught up in this fantasy while I tried to stay tied to my computer screen. Ultimately, no other place in the world felt as good as home did.