Make Time Stand Still

Make Time Stand Still

Move slowly,

Oh so slowly.

Make time stand still.

I wake up to

A warm sunrise

Where my love lies

I am deeply moved.*

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I can't believe I'm sitting in this hallway again, waiting for someone to tell me how Justin is. My Justin. My lover (he was and will be again), my partner (because he will be a true partner this time), my soul (if he dies, there won't be a 'me' anymore), my life (if he dies, I will die, too), my heart (my heart is so full of Justin now, there's no room for anything else), my mind (we're too connected for me to ever live without him), my dreams (the only future I can see for myself is him), my friend (I trust him with my life), my hero (brave, so brave and strong), my only love.

I called someone a while ago, but I'm not sure who. Mikey? Linds? I'll find out when they get here. Jennifer, I have to call Jennifer.  No, can't call her. Someone has to go to her, tell her in person.  Tell her that her son has been injured again, and is lying in the emergency room, fighting for his life.

"Brian. What the hell happened?" Mikey. I should have known it would be him. "You're covered in blood. Are you ok?"

I nod. "Justin. That prick Ethan stabbed him. Mikey, there was so much blood. Just like last time. Why is this happening? Why to him, again?" I let the tears come. Mikey's here. He'll save me from drowning in my own tears.

"Has anyone called Jennifer?" I shake my head no. "I'm calling the guys. Ted can get Mel and Lindsay." I let my mind close down, knowing Mikey has everything under control. The next thing I remember is Lindsay seated next to me, holding my right hand in hers. I can hear Mel asking the nurse for news about Justin. Carl comes in with Jennifer and Debbie. Jenn is standing in front of me. She leans down and gives me a hug. I'm not sure if she's comforting me, or wants me to comfort her.

Carl gives me time with her, then says he needs to talk to me. He's in charge of the 'case', he says. "Justin's not a case," I say. "He's a person. Someone I love and he's fighting for his life back there somewhere, and I can't even see him." I sit back, my energy gone.  "I'm sorry." He says he understands. I tell him everything I know about what happened as he writes in his little notebook. I've always wondered how cops could get so much information in that little notebook they carry in their jacket pocket. He pats my shoulder with his big hand and goes to Debbie. She's crying. He holds her in his arms. I'm glad she has someone in her life besides a group of queers.  She deserves to be happy.

Jennifer is sitting next to me, holding my left hand. Linds hasn't let go of my right hand. There we all are once again, waiting in this cold, sterile hallway.

"Mrs. Taylor?" A nurse in maroon scrubs appears in the hall. Jennifer stands and walks over to her. I follow. "The doctor will be out in a few minutes to talk to you, then you can see your son. Only immediate family is allowed." She surveys the crowd that has gathered around, waiting for news about their Sunshine. The nurse in maroon scrubs tells us to wait in the waiting room. "It'll be more comfortable." Like a herd of cattle we go, just glad someone is telling us what to do.

The doctor is standing at the door. "Mrs. Taylor?" Jennifer looks up and starts to stand, still holding my hand. The doctor motions for her to sit. He pulls up a chair and sits in front of her. "Mrs. Taylor, Justin has two serious stab wounds. One to his abdomen, here.  He points just to the left of his stomach area. The spleen has been ruptured. He lost a lot blood, which we're replacing, and he'll be going to surgery in a few minutes. Yes, you'll be able to see him first," he says, anticipating her question. "The other wound is just under the ribs, here," pointing again on himself. "The knife missed the heart, but his left lung was punctured and we put a chest tube in to drain the blood and re-inflate the lung. I just want to warn you about all the tubes and lined you'll see. Are you ready to see him now?"

"Yes, of course. And he's coming with me," she says, nodding towards me. "He's family." She leaves no room for disagreement. We get up and follow the doctor down the hall after assuring the gang left in the waiting room a full report of Justin's condition when we return.

Justin's pale form lies on the trauma bed, blending in with the white sheet covering him. The head of the bed is partially raised, for which I'm glad. He doesn't look so lifeless like that. Bags of blood and clear fluids are suspended overhead, with lines disappearing under the sheet. Several containers are hooked to the bed. Jennifer wipes his bangs from his forehead and kisses the pale skim. His eyes open and he tries to smile. "Mom," he says weakly. "Oh, Sweetheart," she replies and starts to cry. The first tears I've seen since she arrived. Now I know where Justin gets his strength. "Brian?" I moved into his line of sight. "I'm right here. I told you I wasn't going anywhere. I love you, Baby. You're going to be fine." He smiles another weak smile. "Love you." My turn to smile at him. He doesn't ask about Ethan. I'm relieved. The nurse in maroon scrubs comes over.  They're ready for Justin in surgery. Jennifer kisses his forehead again, I kiss his lips. "Later," he whispers. "Later, Baby," I answer back. He's wheeled out of the room. Jennifer leans against me, needing comfort, support, contact. I put my arm around her shoulders and we go back to the waiting room and let everyone know as much as we know. We're told we can go to the waiting room on the fourth floor, just down the hall from the operating room. We wait some more.

Cups of coffee and cans of soda appear, thanks to Ted and Melanie.  Carl left to do police stuff. Hopefully, they will find Ethan soon and throw him in jail, where I hope he rots. The rest of us sit, doze,read, pace, whisper and think.

Surprisingly, only a few hours have passed when the surgeon comes to the waiting room. She inroduces herself to Jennifer as a crowd of people gather around. "Justin is doing fine," she says. "He's in the recovery room." Recovery Room. I love that name. It gives a sense of hope. She had to remove his spleen, but he can live without it.  Except for the left lung, which was nicely expanded, she couldn't find any other damage. "He was awfully lucky," she said. We agreed. I thought, though, what kind of twisted luck was it that put this beautiful young man through all this pain again? The surgeon was talking. "He'll be moved to the Surgical ICU from the Recovery Room, then you can visit." At least Jenn and I can see him. Immediate family only, again. I'm glad Jenn considers me family after everything that's happened.

Everyone starts to leave. Linds and Mel have to get back to Gus, everyone else has to go to work. Work. I remember I have to call Cynthia. It's still too early. I can do it later. Jenn and I promise to tell Justin that they all love him and are thinking about him.  We'll give him hugs from everyone, too. Soon, Jenn and I are the only two people in the room. She takes my hand again. "Brian?" Her voice startles me.

"Yes, Jenn?"

She doesn't look at me. She's staring at some unseen spot on the far wall. "I'm glad you're here. If time stood still and I had only one person with me tonight, I'd want it to be you. Justin loves you, no matter what. And I know you really love him. I'm beginning to see what he sees in you."

I didn't know how to answer, what to say. So I just said thank you.  She held my hand tighter. "You, know," I said, many minutes later, "Justin is lucky to have you for his mother. I can see where he gets his strength and goodness." We settle back, each lost in our own thoughts.

A nurse in purple scrubs stand in the doorway. "Mrs. Taylor? If you come with me, I'll take you to see Justin." We both get up and follow her. "My name is Fran. I'm an RN, and I'll be taking care of Justin until three this afternoon." At least she has a name, not like the nurse in the maroon scrubs in the ER. "He's in room 5, right here. Let me know it you need anything or have any questions. He's still pretty groggy from the anesthesia and medication, but talk to him. He needs to know you're here. Umm, are you Brian, by any chance?"

"Yes. How did you know my name?" But I already knew. She tells me Justin keeps asking for Brian, and saying he loves you.

Jenn and I quietly enter Justin's room. More blood is hanging, bags and containers are still suspended from poles and at the bedside. A monitor with several rows of lines and numbers prove he's still alive. "Justin, Sweetheart, it's Mom." Justin moans and opens his eyes, looking around before he focuses on his mother. "Mom?" His voice is hoarse. "Don't cry." I look at Jennifer and see the tears.  "I'm just glad you're ok. These are happy tears." She smiles to prove her point. I think about happy tears. What a concept, invented, no doubt, by a woman.

"Hey, Baby." I lean down and kiss him. He smiles and says he knew I'd still be here. "Where else would I be? I hear you've been talking in your sleep." He wrinkles his forehead, asking what he said.

"You just said that you love me."

"Oh. Well, at least I didn't lie. Have to sleep now," he says as his eyes close, giving in to the drugs in his body.

"Brian. Brian. Wake up." The voice is far away and I try to ignore it, but it persists. I slowly come back into consciousness, remembering where I am. I'd fallen asleep with my head on Justin's hospital bed. "What? Is something wrong?"

"No. He's fine. Lindsay's here. Let her take you home. Shower, eat, sleep. You can come back tonight and stay with Justin." I don't know how she does it. She's been here all night and half the day, but she still looks neat and fresh. I, on the other hand, am a mess. Washing up in the bathroom didn't do me too much good.

"You'll call if anything happens?" Of course she will. I shouldn't even have asked. "Of course I will, Brian. Why do you even have to ask?" I kiss Justin on the cheek. He's still asleep, but his color is better, and he looks as comfortable as he can with tubes everywhere.

I hug Jennifer and she kisses my cheek. "Thanks," I say, but I'm not really sure for what for. Maybe that, no matter what happened between Justin and myself, she still accepts me as family, and part of her son's life.

I meet Lindsay in the hall and we walk to her car. "I need to pick up my Jeep." I don't want to go back there, but I have no choice.

"Your Jeep is at the loft. Em and Ted already picked it up for you. I had the spare key, remember? Come on. Let's get you home and cleaned up. I'll fix lunch while you shower, then you need to sleep for a few hours." Grateful for her care, I let her drive me home and even eat the food she prepared. Lindsay isn't the best cook around, but she just heated some soup from the diner and made a sandwich. I wasn't sure I could fall asleep, but it felt good to be in my own bed and I gave myself over to the sandman.

Four hours later I was awake again. My internal alarm clock rarely let me sleep longer than that at one time. I remember what happened last night and reach for the phone to call the hospital. Jennifer says he's doing well, awake a little more and asking for me. I tell her I'll be there as soon as possible and ask if she needs me to bring anything. No, she says. I dress and leave, stopping at the diner for a turkey sandwich and coffee to take back with me. Several of the regulars ask me how Justin is doing. News travels fast on Liberty Avenue. I tell then he's doing better. Give him our love, they all say. Everyone loves Justin. Sandwich and coffee in hand, I head back to the hospital.

Debbie and Carl are in the hallway talking with Jennifer. "I was telling the ladies, we found Ethan this afternoon. He's in jail.  Keeps sayig he didn't mean to hurt Justin."

"Like hell." I don't hide the anger in my voice. "He wanted to kill him, not hurt him." Jenn gasps at my statemnet. I look at her, sorry for my outburst. I put my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. I think about Gus. How awful it must be to know someone wants your child dead, and this is the second time he almost died because some animal hated him. I need to see him, to make sure he was alright.  "I'm going in to see him." They understand. Deb will drive Jenn home, then she'll stay at Deb's for a few days. She'll be closer to the hopital, and she won't be alone. Molly is staying with her father. He won't be coming here to see his son. He hasn't even asked how Justin is doing.

Justin is awake when I go into his room. He looks even better than he did when I left. Tough kid. No, not kid. Young man. "Is that for me?" indicating the food container. "I hope there's a lemon bar in there."

"You're always hungry. This is for me, and if you don't behave, I'm going to eat every bite right here in front of you." His pout makes me laugh. "I wouldn't be that mean to you, Baby. As soon as the doctor says you can eat, I'll have a dozen lemon bars here for you.  How's that?"

"Deal."

I lean over and kiss him tenderly on the lips. He reads something in my eyes I don't want him to see. "I'm going to be fine, Brian. This wasn't anything you could have prevented. I lived with him for four months, and I never saw this side of him before last night. Don't blame yourself again for something you had no control over." He starts coughing, and I can see the pain on his face. He pushes the blue button pinned to his gown. A low beep tells him the pain medication is flowing into is vein. "Sleep now," he says, as his eyelids get heavy. I watch as his lashes brush his cheeks, covering his blue eyes.

"Sleep well. I'll be here when you wake up." He moves his fingers, and I take hold of his hand, letting him know I'm still here. Perhaps I can eat my sandwich with one hand. I'll try. I don't want to let go of him ever again.

We both doze on and off all night. The nurses come in to check him every hour, emptying one thing or hanging another. Hospitals aren't the best place to rest, that's for sure. Sunlight streams in the window, waking me. He's still holding my hand, or I'm holding his, not sure which. I need to stand and stretch so I move my hand away.  Fran comes into the room. She's going to give Justin his bath and change his bed. She suggests I go to the cafeteria for awhile. I need a cup of coffee and a cigarette, so I reluctantly agree.

Forty minutes later I'm back with my coffee. I couldn't force myself to stay away any longer. Justin and his bed are sparkling clean. He's awake. We kiss, we talk. Small kiss, small talk. Neither one of us is up for much more. There's time enough when he's better, and home with me, where he belongs.

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*Leonard Nimoy, "You and I", c1973, Celestial Arts

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