Enigma - 18. Chapter 18 - The Miracle that Is

On that first day I slept through almost 24 hours. They said it was shock and exhaustion but I think I had help. When I woke Sam was with me and filled me in on what had been going on while I slept.

Even though I know that Silver is my own personal walking miracle no one expected him to come through this as well as he has. By the time I woke up he was already amazing everyone by the way he had rallied from being, as I found out later when I was capable of hearing it, almost at the point of death. And he’s continued to do so ever since.

After only two and a half days in the ICU in a drug induced coma, after more than eight hours of surgery not only from the gunshot wound but some pretty serious internal damage from the beatings he received, he woke up lucid and looking for me. On the third day they moved him into the main ward where he immediately started charming everyone with his endearing nature and by the fourth day he was out of bed and sitting in a chair. Now, four days later and less than eight days since the shooting they are talking about letting him come home.

A lot has happened in those eight days. For one thing I have resigned from my job. Doctor Marshall resisted at first but I insisted. It is important to me that there is nothing that can possibly get in the way of my relationship with Silver. I know that, after everything that has happened, after coming so close to losing him, there is no way that I am ever going to let him go again. Me being me the weight of my professional position would have crushed me and I didn’t want that to blight what should be days of glory in our blossoming love affair.

For another thing I am absolutely dedicated to looking after my own personal miracle. Watching him overcome the difficulties facing him has made me realise more than ever, if that were possible, what an amazing creature he is. I am overwhelmed by a protectiveness that I have never felt before. I struggle with leaving his side even for a moment and as soon as I have him home and under my care I will make sure that I never do that again.

Well... alright, I appreciate that this is an unrealistic expectation but I am going to do my damndest nevertheless.

Sam has been an absolute rock. He has made sure I have taken time to rest so that when I am with Silver I can be totally there for him and not wandering in that twilight world that I inhabited in the early days as I sat at his side in the ICU and refused to leave even when I fell asleep sitting up. He also makes me feel safe, his sheer bulk a comfort. Even when he is off duty he has come to visit to make sure that we are both okay.

Of course he took to Silver immediately, everyone does and Silver has come to adore him almost as much as I do. When we get home we are going to make sure that we never lose this friendship and we are going to keep in touch no matter what.

He has been a great help too, in the project I undertook as soon as I was lucid enough to think of it. In fact it obsessed me until it came to fruition. I suppose I needed something to take my mind off the situation, when Silver was so helpless and ill that I could not allow myself to believe, even when everyone told me he was doing well and getting better more quickly than anyone expected. To me, until the moment he opened his eyes, the fear that he never would again, left no space for hope and I needed something to focus on so that the fear would not overwhelm me.

With the help of Sam and some contacts I had made during the time I was with Nikki I managed to trace Silver’s parents. It took some work as we only had his first name to go on. However after trawling missing persons files from about the time Silver was taken... which was something of a guess as he had always been vague about timescales... for him time had ceased to have meaning from the day he was stolen away... my awesome friends managed to track down his family and, within hours they were here at the hospital.

I will never forget the first moment I saw them and the first moment they saw him. As soon as they walked through the door I knew who they were. His father is tall and strong like he is, although much broader and, of course, mature. He has the same black hair and pale complexion, a startling combination. He gets his amazing eyes from his mother though, who, even in her early forties is stunningly beautiful. She looks like a creature of faerie, small boned and delicate in that way that speaks of enormous strength within.

Even though she is slender and deceptively frail looking she is tall, not as tall as Silver and his father but still tall for a woman. This gives her a willowy appearance and a grace that is so reminiscent of that lightness that Silver has that it brings tears to my eyes.

It is strange that I see so much of him in both of these very different people and, at the same time realise that he is uniquely himself.

There was one thing though that, although physically they are so very different, they shared absolutely and that was the look in their eyes the moment they first saw their son after more than seven years.

They paused just inside the doorway, as if afraid to move closer, their faces showing the same mix of horror, joy and wild hope. Both sets of eyes filled with tears and for the only time in the whole of the period in which I have now known them, they looked old and careworn. Since that first day they have impressed me with their youthful charm, enthusiasm and love for life which Silver has inherited in full measure.

They did not break down. It is hard to imagine any situation in which they would ever lose control, these strange and beautiful people who created my love. It is easy to see why, after all that he has been through Silver was never really broken, why he coped with everything that was thrown at him and came out of it with alacrity and grace.

Graceful is a word that accurately describes the Harts in everything they do and say. The way they move, their gestures, the way they deal with the world around them. They have true grace and they have passed it on to their son.

After the first moments of shock they moved, as if one person to stand on the other side of the bed. Despite their stunned condition they had warm smiles for me. I took to them immediately and would have smiled back no matter how I had been feeling which, at that moment was pretty shitty.

Both of them looked at Silver for a long time with their love shining from them and then, simply, his mother reached out and rubbed his arm, in the way that only mothers do, saying. “Oh Mattie... you’ve grown up and you’re so beautiful.”

Those simple words say a lot to me, even now having got to know them much better over the last week. They are, in many ways, simple people but they are rich in love, so much like their son that, at that moment it hurt. Silver was with them for only twelve years but in that time they had instilled in him, with their gentle kindness, all the qualities that have made him so strong, so unique.

“He’s beautiful inside too.” I said and they looked up and smiled at me.

That broke the ice and we talked. I told them about Silver and the kind of person he has become and they told me about Matthew and the kind of person he had been. It quickly became clear that the two are not so very different at all.

Perhaps now he is a little less open and a little more wary. Maybe he is a shade darker but he has the same strength, the same light within. I wished so hard in that moment that I had got to know him better in the days when he was with me and there were only us. I wish, even now that when I saw the painting I had done what I so wanted to do and taken him in my arms and never let go. But that is past and I won’t dwell on it.

As much as it brought joy to my heart to see the Harts’ reaction when they saw their son, it was nothing to what happened to my heart the first time he saw them.

It was a worrying time for me when he was waking up. The doctor had told us that there was no guarantee he would. Despite the way he had rallied so far and the enormous strength that was bringing him through a potentially lethal situation, the doctors were at pains to warn us that he was still in grave danger. There was a significant risk that, even when they reduced the sedation, he might remain in a coma for days, or maybe never wake at all.

The fact that, from the moment they took him off the ventilator he started breathing for himself with a strength that surprised them again was a promising sign but it wasn't until he actually opened his eyes and smiled at me that I started to believe, to have faith, to breathe easily again myself.

In those first moments he only had eyes for me. His hand reached for mine and we were lost in each other. “River,” was his first word and he said it with such love it almost broke my heart.

After allowing us to have that shared moment, containing their own needs in respect for ours, which was a gesture typical of them, Silver’s mother whispered ‘Mattie,” and his face changed.

I watched with a smile on my face as his eyes widened and a look of fearful joy broke over his face. Fearful because he was afraid that if he turned his head the wild hope that had woken in his heart would be disappointed. When he did turn to them there were tears in his eyes and when he said hoarsely. “Mam.” there was so much emotion expressed in that one word that every eye in the room was wet.

They have helped him so much these last few days. Despite his amazing fortitude it has not been easy for him. He is in a lot of pain, even now but he fights so hard not to show it. Watching him blossom under the care of those who love him has been an awe inspiring experience for me. I had thought that he could not be more beautiful, more endearing, more filled with light but he has surprised me and he continues to surprise me and all those around him on almost a daily basis.

That is not to say that it has all been plain sailing. There have been moments when he has been thrown into a dark depression, especially when he was told that Faith had evaded capture. From that moment on there was a shadow in his eyes that never completely left him. Neither did his frustration at the weakness he felt, the pain that sometimes paralysed him and which he relentlessly fought and railed against even against the advice of his doctors at times.

Sometimes, exhausted with pain and weakness, he would get angry or morose and would push away everyone around him with harsh words and even tantrums. But they were like summer storms that hit from nowhere, raged for a time then passed to let the sun shine through. We accepted them and, for the most part ignored them.

The only time they worried me was when he expressed feelings that what had happened to him had somehow diminished him. More than once in the darkness of the night, gripped by pain and anger he would refer to himself as ‘spoiled goods’ or as an object to be bought and sold and not to be held or cherished. As time progressed and he was helped to bring the pain under control and, especially when his strength began to return and he could at least pretend to some measure of normality the rage diminished and now he rarely explodes although he still has periods of melancholy when he shuts us out and seems lost in a private hell.

Dr Marshall came to see him yesterday. I know that they spoke about continuing some kind of therapy although it had already been decided that, on his release from hospital, he would be moving in with me. Silver declined. Although Dr Marshall was not entirely happy with that he let it be and departed leaving a number for Silver to call should he ever feel the need for help, and his best wishes genuinely and freely expressed.

Today he has been subdued from the moment he opened his eyes. I watch him as he sits and stares out of the window and wonder what he is thinking. Even though all the medical equipment, even the drip in his arm, has been removed, he still finds it difficult to move around.

Surprisingly he is having more trouble with his broken ribs than the gunshot wound which resulted in major surgery and a wound that stretches from just below his collarbone all the way to his stomach. He has another wound across his abdomen where damage was sustained to his liver and kidney by the savage beating. Thankfully the surgery was completely successful and he has full function of both.

Still, the wounds are painful, even though they are healing well and the stitches were removed yesterday. Not as painful as the ribs though which stab at him regularly making breathing difficult sometimes and severely restricting his movement. As the pain relief has been gradually withdrawn, at his own insistence as much as anything else, the burden of the pain has been becoming greater and, although he does his best to hide it, he winces whenever he moves.

We are in a small side room off the main ward and there is a large window overlooking the car park and beyond, over hills behind which is the sea. They have angled the large comfortable armchair for him so that he can sit straight and look out. One hand is resting on the window ledge and the mind behind the silver eyes is far away.

I have been down in the tiny hospital cafe with Mr and Mrs Hart drinking bad coffee and eating a dried out muffin. I brought one for Silver and put it on the ledge in front of him. He hasn’t even glanced at it.

I have been talking about Matthew and I have had some surprises. Apparently he had a bit of a Goth/Rock thing going on which is really surprising as Silver is so... light. They have some photos and he was such a cute kid, reminiscent of the man he was going to be but so very different. There is something in his eyes, an innocence that has not so much been lost as changed, although the smile is still the same.

It was a strange feeling to look at those photographs and think of the life that lay before that smiling boy with a cheeky grin and shining silver eyes. Silver won’t look at them and he won’t let anyone call him Matthew, although his mother sometimes slips up and calls him Mattie.

I sit on the bed and watch him, watch the sunlight dancing on his hair. We managed to wash it today. He can’t go in the shower because he is not allowed to get his dressings wet but we got a nurse to put a stool in there so he could bend his head backwards for me to carefully wash it. It was fun because I had to get naked to do it. It was the first time he had seen my body and he certainly seemed to like it.

Although the way his hair is now cut is jagged and uneven it suits him, swinging to just brush his shoulders, slightly longer at the front. When it is properly cut it will look awesome.

As I watch him he sighs deeply and winces then sighs again more carefully and runs one hand through his hair. It ruffles it and makes it stand up on top as it never had when sheer weight had pulled it straight.

“Penny for them.”

He jumps and his groan of pain makes me feel guilty. Slipping off the bed I crouch at his side looking up in concern.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you knew I was here.”

He smiles at me but it’s a distant smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“Liar. What’s on your mind?”

He shrugs and turns back to the window. “I... it’s just...” He sighs again. “Seeing my parents again after so long... speaking to them, remembering... I suppose it makes me think about how different I am now. I’m not the person they knew any more. I’m not Matthew. I’m not... anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Matthew is the person I was before. He was the one who was happy and untouched and innocent. He listened to music I don’t understand any more, played video games that are out of date now and his favourite television programmes are not even made any more.

“And then there’s Silver. He never listened to music unless it was to learn to sing it and he has no idea what or who is popular now or even what he likes any more. He wouldn’t know how to play video games and gets bored by tv. The only thing he knows is how to take orders and to give pleasure to others through physical acts that sicken him. Silver is a commodity and not a person at all.

“So between the two of them... who the hell am I?”

Blinking back tears I sink to my knees and lay my head on his lap. Unconsciously his hand toys with my hair. I know what he is thinking and why. Over the last few days, since he had been up and free of the pain relief drugs which clouded his mind he has started thinking about what comes next. Talking to his parents, to Sam and to me, he is realising how out of touch he is with everything that has been going on out there in the last seven years.

I think he is afraid of venturing out into a world he no longer feels part of, no longer understands. Well... I was helpless when he was ill, there was little I could do for him then... but I’m not helpless any more.

After a while I lift my head and look into his glorious eyes. I lay my hand against his face and he almost winces. When he makes to turn away I gently hold him.

“You can be whoever you want to be. You are only you. As for all the rest of the crap, I’ll teach you. We’ll listen to MTV until you hear music you like. There are so many different things out there now that there is bound to be something that speaks to you and when you find it I will download the tracks you like onto an MP3 for you. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t know what they are, or how to do it because I know.

“You are already learning how to be yourself, to make decisions and not be bound by orders any more... and as for the rest... You found it sickening because it was. It was a perversion of what it should have been. When there is love it’s different, so different.”

“I know,” he says, still softly and I could kick myself.

I take his hands between mine and make him look at me by will. “I’m not David. We’re not prisoners. We are both free. Nothing bad is going to happen this time... it is all going to be good.

“I miss him River... I... I’m sorry, so sorry... I don’t want to hurt you but... but it’s true. I can't help it I... I loved him... I... I still do.”

He looks anxious but determined, his chin jutting and it almost breaks my heart. Sometimes there are moments when it is brought home to me just how much he’s been through and how much it has affected him. This is one of them.

“Why are you sorry? Why do find it so difficult to admit that to yourself and to me? I’m not so insecure in my love for you that I can’t handle the fact that you loved someone before. Love is not a narrow concept Silver. Because you love someone, even if it is with all your heart and soul, it doesn’t mean that you can’t love someone else in the same way.”

He looks stunned, struggling to understand, wanting to believe what I am saying but not quite able to allow himself.

“I’m not threatened by David, Silver. In fact I am profoundly grateful to him, that he was able to bring love into your life when it was so hard and so sad. The only thing that hurts is what happened after, although, if it hadn’t been for David, if it hadn’t been for what happened to him and to you, I would never have met you, never have fallen in love with you.”

Tears are falling from his eyes and I reach up to wipe them away. He bites his lip and peers at me through lowered lashes which are sparkling with tears.

“Silver... it’s alright. It’s all going to be alright. Give yourself time. There’s been no time. We’ve gone from one drama to the next and there’s been no time. You’re still ill and tired and you haven’t got the strength to cope with all this... that will come and it will be good. I will make it good, I promise.”

He smiles a weak little smile and nods slowly. He is so beautiful, so sweet, so vulnerable... what could I do? Stretching up, being very careful not to hurt him I lean forwards and see his eyes widen just before I kiss him.

His lips taste salty from the tears but they are soft, so soft and so yielding. Very slowly and gently I brush my lips across his and for a moment he freezes. Who knows what is going through his mind?

Jerkily he raises his arms and encircles me. I know it hurts him but he doesn’t show it and for once I don’t try to stop him. He shivers and finally his lips tremble and part and hesitantly he begins to explore me. I let him set the pace, conscious of the fact that until now sex to him has been about control and abuse and, given his current introspective frame of mind it is important that he doesn’t feel under pressure.

I needn’t have worried. After a period of hesitancy something happens. It’s as if a switch has been flicked and he becomes hungry. I can feel his heartbeat increase and his breathing speed up as he pushes up against me. His hands claw at my back and he pulls me into him so hard I hear him gasp with pain but he doesn’t stop.

At one point I consider trying to pull back as I am worried about hurting him but he won’t let me and I think that it would hurt more to try and break away than to let him set the pace and do what he wants. I figure that if it hurts too much he will stop.

I am hesitant to take things any further, although I believe that he desperately needs some kind of relief. My heart is hammering with fear as I move my body around and wriggle in between his knees. Without missing a beat he opens them to accommodate me and I take it as encouragement.

For a while I concentrate on the kissing while, at the same time I make sure that I, very carefully, press myself against him. He loses concentration in the kissing and squirms, his hands clenching spasmodically on my back.

Raising myself very slightly I slide my hand between us to stroke his thigh and again he stiffens and freezes. I stop and kiss him deeply, teasing him with my tongue until he relaxes again. Taking my courage I run my fingers over the outside of his pyjamas and I feel him twitch. When he doesn’t pull away or freeze again I increase the pressure until I am actively massaging him.

Little sighs escape him and he has completely lost the plot. He no longer participates in the kiss because he is incapable of doing so. I raise my head and he lets his fall back on the chair, his eyes closed, breathing in gasps. I am slightly concerned about whether that is a good thing given his condition but, when I stop he opens his eyes looking anxious and desperate and I lose my self control.

I smile at him and lean forward again to kiss him gently as I continue with the massage. With a deep sigh he closes his eyes again and pushes forwards with his hips. When it doesn’t seem to hurt him I relax too and slip my hand down inside the pyjamas and finally get to touch him in his most intimate place. I have been thinking about this moment for days, wishing, wondering, wanting, and now that it is here there is nothing, but nothing that is going to stop me.

It doesn’t even occur to us that someone might come in... there is no room for anything in our minds but the moment and what is going on in it.

This time when I pull away he has neither the focus nor the energy to stop me and his hands fall to grip the arms of the chair.

When I tug at the waistband of his pyjamas he raises himself slightly so I can slip them down over his hips and moans. I don’t know if it is with pain or pleasure but I can’t stop now to wonder.

He is beautiful, truly beautiful and I have to watch as I stroke him with gentle fingers and bring him to life in front of my eyes. Despite, or maybe because, he has not had a shower for days he smell good, amazingly good. It makes my nostrils flare and I have no choice but to bury my face in his groin and breathe him in.

The lack of hair is really turning me on and my tongue flicks out to tease the base of his cock and his balls.

“River,” he hisses and I raise my head to look at him, not wanting to push him further than he is ready for.

He is looking at me with uncertainty in his eyes.

“It’s alright my love. If you don’t want to I’ll stop. This is for you not me. It won’t hurt me and I don’t want to hurt you. What do you want?”

Silver’s eyes widen and they are shining silver. He is shivering and I’m not sure why. After scouring my face with his eyes he licks his lips and nodded, breathing hard.

“Don’t... stop.”

Grinning I plunge straight in and take him into my mouth. He groans and shudders and pushes into me. I take my time, taking the most enormous pleasure in hearing his moans and sighs, so glad that this time they are from pure pleasure.

Interspersed with nuzzling and gently sucking his balls I draw him further and further into my mouth while finding time to softly murmur endearments every time my lips are freed to do.

Eventually I feel by the tightness in his balls that he is coming close and I whisper, “I love you Silver, I love you so much. I will love you forever,” and then I drop the gentleness and go to work in earnest until I feel him jerk and go stiff. He makes a strangled sound that could have been a warning I didn’t need and which I ignore and then I am flooded with him.

When I have milked him dry I sit back and survey my handiwork... no, not that bit... I was talking about the look on Silver’s face, the wonder in his eyes. He is still shaking all over and his hands are still clenched around the arms of the chair.

“What... what...?” He swallows heavily and takes a deep breath, wincing with pain as he does so.

“Easy.” I caution. “Let’s get you sorted and then we can talk. He tries to lift himself so we can get is pyjamas back up but his arms are still trembling and he can’t quite manage it.

“Come on. I think it’s time you had a lie down.” He puts his arms around my neck and I put mine around his waist and together we haul him to his feet. We are getting good at this now but even so he is very unsteady today. I look at him anxiously but he is grinning, with more colour in his face than I have seen for a long time. Before I deposit him on the bed he presses his body in to mine and we kiss again.

There is something about this kiss that is different. This is not something that I am doing for him, it is not intended to be healing, or to bring us closer, or to ease his mind... this kiss is an equal one, tender, undemanding and very sweet.

When we break apart Silver is lit up, his eyes shining and so beautiful it sends a pain shooting through me.

“Are you okay?”

“No... I’m not okay.” Concern stabs through me and it must show in my eyes because it makes him smile. “Okay is not a good enough word to describe how I feel right now. I feel great. I feel... I feel like my life just began.”

I feel a stupid grin spread over my face as I lower him gently onto the bed, help him lie down and then stretch out beside him.