'We'

Chapter Eighteen

Erik wasn't sure quite how many days it had been. He wasn't too sure why he was still sitting in this uncomfortable chair. He knew he should have gone home hours ago, that sitting here wouldn't change anything, but something compelled him to stay. Something in his chest that he had been unable to name before Felix. He had told Erik before that he hated hospitals. Maybe that was why the taller man was so worked up.

Apparently, he hadn't been in a hospital since that day. Now, as he lay still on the bed, Erik could picture the scared eleven-year-old perfectly.

Erik looked up as the door clicked to see Rosa. She entered silently, pushing the door shut behind her. Erik drew his gaze back to Felix before she had a chance to move. He heard the chair shuffle beside him as she sat.

"How is he?"

"Still not awake."

"What did the doctors say?"

"That I should go home. That they contact his family if something changed."

"But…"

"Yeah."

A silent understanding passed through them. Neither was family; both knew how his real family would react.

"I wish he had told me," Erik sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I wish I could have helped him."

"He's a brat, honestly. I can never tell if it's fear or pride that stops him first."

"How did he get the drugs?" Erik asked, facing Rosa for the first time. "How did he get enough to overdose?"

"I think the real question is how did he get enough to overdose again." She sighed gently.

"So…"

"Twice before with his pain medicine, and once he tried to hang himself."

"Fuck"

"I confiscated all the sting from his house after that one," she commented with a half-hearted chuckle. "He said I was being dumb. That he wouldn't try that again anyway."

There was a silence as both adults looked over at the man they cared for so deeply. He looked so peaceful if you could push the tubes flowing from him from your mind. Erik felt sick looking at them.

"How long has he been…" the man trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Rosa hesitated as if she hardly wanted to say it either.

"Depressed? For as long as we've been friends. Pain and rejection do crazy things to a person."

The silence stemmed on for several minutes. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, but the situation made each tick of the clock feel like the stab of a knife. Erik had to do something to distract himself from the tears that were forming around his eyes.

"Why?"

"I don't know which 'why' you're asking," she responded, looking over at Erik. He was almost thankful to see that she has begun to cry too.

"All of them," Erik choked out, and Rosa took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"He had the opium because he needs pain medication for his leg. He had enough to overdose because he doesn't always take as much as he should, and hordes the leftovers. He's depressed because of the emotional and physical trauma he's been through. He tried to overdose because he had pushed away from the man he loved." She paused for a moment once more, examining Erik. "He loved you because you didn't care that he wasn't perfect. You accepted him the way he was."

Erik looked over at him again. "I loved him for the same reason."

"I suggest you don't use past tense. He's not dead yet."

"He's not going to die," Erik insisted, turning back to Rosa with determination in his eyes. She smiled back at him.

"Of course. Felix was never one for leaving things unfinished."

In a sudden movement, Rosa began rummaging for something in her bag. Erik watched her, thankful for the distraction, and she finally pulled her phone from inside. He looked away as she opened it, but she touched his shoulder gently.

"Here," she said, holding the phone out for him. He took it cautiously, looking down at the screen as she continues to speak. "This is us when we were thirteen."

Erik smiled down at the pixels, holding back a laugh. He ran his thumb gently over Felix's face.

"What's with the ponytail?" he chuckled gently, looking up at the woman. She was smiling, although her eyes were still littered with tears.

"He was so proud of that rat-tail," she laughed honestly. "He kept it until it became impractical. He was well over eighteen when he finally got it removed."

"It's kinda hot," Erik laughed, eyes crinkling up in a smile. "We might have to talk about that if he ever stops being a dick."

"Ohh," Rosa sang mockingly. "So you're turned on by bad haircuts. I'll make sure to tell him."

Erik punched her in the arm playfully as she took the phone back, swiping along a few images. He watched her quietly as she did so, wondering when it was during the last hour or so that they had become friends.

"Here," she said, pushing another image before his face. She seemed oblivious to his thoughts. "This was his first cat. He fucking loves cats."

Erik glanced down at the small silver tabby, thinking back on the black cat he had met in Felix's house. He wondered if it were missing the barista too. The Felix in the picture looked ecstatic, hardly older than sixteen, as he cradled the terrified bundle of fur close to his face.

"He was really something else," Rosa confided, gazing down at the picture with a look of pride in her eyes. "He had his own place by that time, as well. He moved out as soon as he could."

More pictures passed before Erik's eyes, keeping time with the ticking of the clock. Pictures of cats, ponytails, past boyfriends… everything that Rosa had she showed him. The man drank in every image as if it were his last lifeline.

As the hours drew on, and the sky outside the window slowly started to grow darker, Erik felt a strange sensation of calmness wash over him. It was nice talking to Rosa like this. Even with the horrible truth lying in a hospital bed before him, he was happy.

"I meant it," Erik insisted, looking down at his lap as the last picture appeared before him. "I really did love him, and I still do - despite it all."

There was a small cough, and Erik snapped his head upwards towards where the sound had come from.

"Sorry about that, babe. That's probably my fault."

Felix had hardly the chance to raise himself into a sitting position before Erik had flung his arms around the man's neck, sobbing gently into his back.