not as strong as you think i am (i'm no superman) [dalkenzie]

Chapter 2

For the rest of his life, MacKenzie would not have a linear memory of getting Dalton to the emergency room. He knew there was practically carrying him to his car, pajamas and stocking feet and all, there was keeping the windows open for air, there was hands sweat-slicked on the steering wheel and remembering to stay on the goddamn road, there was Dalton in the passenger seat keeping his arms around himself and shaking even in this weather, and there was the relieving sight of the tall and pale grey stone building of the hospital. The moments just came in flashes and he'd wonder if he was seriously breaking down himself.

By stroke of luck the waiting room was nearly empty this time of afternoon, so two teenage boys coming in pale from panic was easy to get the attention of the woman at the front desk. "Goodness!" she exclaimed and stood when the pair approached.

MacKenzie's chest and lungs hurt like he'd just run a hundred laps around the court. He settled Dalton's feet to the floor while keeping an arm around his shoulder. "Something about taking too many..."

"Meds," Dalton's voice was whisper-soft and almost inaudible above the woman hitting the call button. "Gotta call my parents-" then he doubled over and clasped a hand to his mouth like he was actually was going to throw up this time.

"Dalton!"

"It's all right, dear," the woman assured as two men came in to get Dalton upright again and walk him- somewhere- with thankfully no protest. MacKenzie just watched his boyfriend gradually move farther and farther down the hall until he was barely a speck. He thought he'd see that in his nightmares forever.

"Looks like you brought him in just in time. Do you have his parents' number?"

"Um, yeah, I think, yeah." It took a couple of attempts with his hands still sweaty and mind swimming in cotton, but he managed to pull out the contacts on his phone to hopefully give what were Fran and Kiva's right cell numbers. When she picked up the desk receiver he knew he really had no choice now to but to sit and wait.

There was no way in hell he could leave Dalton alone in this place right now.

Mack collapsed into a chair padded by hard vinyl, his gaze dropping to the floor tiled in blue with a faint speckle pattern. Reality slowly started to settle back into his swimming head. Even if he just knew Dalton's parents would be here as soon as possible, the time of waiting would feel like an eternity. He reached for his phone again to do something he almost never did, calling home to let his parents know where he was.

It didn't come as any surprise that he reached the answering machine. He dropped the phone in his lap with a sigh after leaving the message, his vision blurring.

Dalton could have died.

There it was, the truth out in the open. Even if Dalton ended up changing his mind...why would he think of even trying to do it in the first place? What could possibly be going on to make him believe that was his only option?

MacKenzie rubbed his eyes that were now stinging. Maybe it was boyfriend bias, but to him, Dalton was absolutely supposed to be alive. He was a living symbol of everything good and golden and bountiful and a beautiful presence, inside and out, to be around. He loved his family and friends and wanted them to be happy. He put all of his heart into the music he made and said so many times he was going to sing in a rock band or even on Broadway and touch people with his art. His volunteering activities in and out of school showed what a kind he had.

And Dalton just stood out, with his hip clothes and big smile and infectious laugh that would ring down the hallways. Even if you were one of the handful of jerks who didn't like Dalton you at least knew who he was and knew he filled a space somewhere. Why should that space go away?