Not The Sun - 16. Chapter Sixteen: Recuperations

16 ~Recuperations~

Brandon finally managed to pry his gummy eyelids apart around eight o clock the next morning. Every single particle of light seemed to shoot straight through his eyes to sear his brain. He moaned pitifully, his head pounding, and managed to maneuver himself out of bed. He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. He eyed the tub warily. He knew he needed a shower and a shave pretty badly, but that just wasn't happening right now. Instead he tugged on his jeans and a clean T-shirt and went downstairs.

Jordan was already sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Brandon could smell the rich warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and could have wept. He was never so glad to smell anything in his life. He poured himself a cup and sat down at the table with Jordan.

"It's good to see you up and moving. How are you feeling?" Jordan said, flipping the newspaper shut.

"Very hungover," Brandon replied.

Jordan arched an eyebrow. "I'm not surprised. You drank a lot last night."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Brandon mumbled, taking a sip of coffee. The bitter taste rolled across the back of his tongue as the hot liquid scalded the roof of his mouth and slid down his throat. Brandon smiled and took another sip. God, he felt almost human again.

"So..." Brandon said thoughtfully after a moment's consideration. "Leia."

Jordan's eyes flicked up to meet his briefly. "Yeah?" he said neutrally.

"You think she's still alive."

"I think there is a strong possibility that she is, yes."

Brandon twisted the mug in his fingers before taking another drink. "And this is because of the link you used to have."

"Correct."

"So... if Leia was dead, there would be no link. But since there is one, you think she might still be alive."

"Yes," Jordan said, a bit cautiously. "But what you need to understand, Bran, is that the link is not in the same form it used to be. It has changed. I don't get as much input from her as I used to, and when I do, it's extremely vague... so much so that I can't really tell if it is still her I'm linked to."

"So it could be someone else."

"If it is someone else, they would have needed to be interacting with Leia pretty strongly before she died. It's not normal to have a link transferred; in fact, it pretty much never happens. And even in the one in a millionth chance it did, I would have felt it. Trust me, I would have."

Brandon took another drink of his coffee. "I need some time to think about this."

"Of course you do," Jordan agreed easily. "Go take a shower. We're going to go visit Nikki. Dalaja will need a break. I'm pretty sure she hasn't left all night."

Since he had some coffee in him, Brandon felt like he could at least handle a brief shower. He made it, but by the time he was done, he felt so weak and dizzy that he was amazed he could still stand.

Hangovers sucked.

It didn't take Brandon long to figure out that he didn't like hospitals. Despite the high volume of people present, it was too quiet and there were too many people walking around briskly in their white coats and surgical scrubs, looking impatient and like they might knock you over if you didn't get out of their way, pronto. Wasn't the medical profession supposed to focus on helping people? These people looked like the most unfriendly bunch he had ever seen.

They found Dalaja first, asleep on one of the couches in the waiting area for ICU. Jordan stopped by the couch and shook her awake, talking to her for a few moments before looking up at Brandon. "Bran, go ahead and see Nikki. I'm going get Dalaja somewhere where she can get some rest. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Um... okay," Brandon said. He didn't really want to be left alone in that building by himself with all the scary medical people, but it looked like Jordan wasn't giving him a choice. He dialed the number of ICU and gave the nurse the person and room number he was looking for before they let him in. He followed the direction the nurse pointed him in and saw Nikki resting on a bed in a hospital gown, wearing some kind of mask on her face. A young man was bending over her, wearing scrubs.

Brandon nervously knocked on the door and the man looked up as Nikki smiled at him. "Hey. I'm here to visit the hot chick in the hospital gown," Brandon said.

"Are you family?" the man asked.

Is it any of your damn business? Brandon thought. "Just a friend. Do I need to come back later?"

"No." The man stood up. "I'm from respiratory and I'm just finishing up here."

Brandon stood aside as the man finished adjusting some of the tubes connected to Nikki and left without saying another word. Brandon rolled his eyes and Nikki made a strange sound that might have been a laugh. He approached her carefully, feeling nervous about all the tubes and lines attached to her. There was a rather large tube that looked like it came from under her gown somewhere that was draining a foul looking yellow fluid and there were tubes up in her nose and a scary looking contraption with a mask and monitor attached next to her bed. He guessed one of the lines going into her arm was an IV, but he wasn't sure about the rest of them. Nikki's face was pale and her pink hair looked strange pulled back into a severe ponytail... Dalaja's work if he had to guess.

Nikki smiled at him and said something that he wasn't able to catch. He sat down next to her and leaned forward.

"I can't hear you, sorry."

She spoke again, her voice barely audible and scratchy and Brandon found it much easier to watch her mouth rather than to try to hear her voice.

"Hey."

He smiled back at her. "Hey yourself."

"I'm sorry I can't talk very well. You won't believe some of the stuff that they have been putting down my throat."

"That sounds pretty dirty there, babe."

She let out a dry, hoarse sounding laugh. "Please, don't. Laughing makes me hurt so bad."

Brandon's smile faded. "Sorry."

She smiled at him again. "No worries. Are you okay?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't that be my question?"

"I heard you. Last night, when you were calling out for help."

"What?"

Nikki shrugged then winced in pain. "Yeah. I could tell it was you. I recognized your "voice" I guess. It was familiar to me, so when it called out, I listened."

"So anyone could have heard it?"

"No. Just those who were listening for it. If you take your blocks down from time to time, you might be able to hear me or that other Creator who was with you. I'm assuming he was the one who was blocking you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, since you are here and in one piece, I'm guessing someone managed to help you out. Watch out for these people--they're dangerous."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one lying in the hospital bed and you're telling me to watch out?"

"Yes, I am," Nikki said seriously. "Brandon, that bullet was meant for you. He was counting on you coming through that door. We both know that. It would have killed you. I'm glad I went through there first."

"Don't say that, Nikki."

"Don't you fucking tell me not to say it. I mean it. I'm glad you didn't go through that doorway. I don't want Jordan putting another loved one in the ground."

Brandon swallowed hard. He could remember clearly last night Jordan telling him that he didn't want to have to go back to the hospital and worry about someone again.

"So what happened last night?" Nikki asked.

"Keith came out of the woodwork. He was-" He started to say at a party, then thought it might be pretty rude to tell Nikki he had been partying it up while she was in the hospital. "He and I ran into each other last night and it got pretty bad. He messed with me a little and pulled a gun on Jordan."

Nikki gasped then broke into a fit of coughing, her face grimacing in pain. She grabbed a pillow and held it to her stomach as she coughed.

"Shit, Nikki, I'm sorry," Brandon apologized, feeling like a moron. He should have figured out a better way to break that to her rather than just blurting it out. And after she had just been shot, too. Could he be any more stupid?

Nikki shook her head and grimaced again. "The doctor wants me to cough. It just hurts like hell." She pulled the pillow closer and closed her eyes. There was a knock at the door and Nikki looked up.

"Hey, can I come in?" Jordan asked, smiling and lingering in the doorway.

"Sure," Nikki said, but Brandon was absolutely positive Jordan wouldn't be able to hear it from where he stood.

"She said 'sure'," Brandon offered. Jordan came inside and since there was no place to sit, stood behind Brandon.

"How are you Nikki?"

"Fine."

"Boy, Nikki, if I knew that all I would have to do to get you to shut up is to shoot you, I would have tried that a while ago." Nikki flipped him off and Jordan laughed. "You know I'm kidding. Don't worry. We'll find that bastard, and when we do, I'll personally see that he gets a hard kick in the nuts for hurting you."

"Thank you," Nikki rasped out. "Jordan, please tell me you are going to contact Ray and Cynthia about this. I'm really worried. Brandon told me that this guy put a gun at you."

Jordan smiled slightly. "Put a gun at me?"

"You know what I mean, Jordan. Come on."

"I know, Nik. We're going to get Ray and Cynthia on it. It's all under control. Why don't we go so you can get some rest?"

"You can go, Jordan, but you are the one who needs to rest. You look like you haven't slept for a week."

"I don't think you're in a good position to talk there."

"I have an excuse. I've been shot."

"I have an excuse, too. I'm the one who had to watch you get shot." Jordan bent down and kissed her forehead gently. "Take care, okay?"

"You, too." She looked past Jordan to Brandon. "Especially you."

"I'll be fine," Brandon said, but he knew it was a lie the moment it left his mouth.

He and Jordan left the room, walked back down to the parking garage in thoughtful silence. Brandon glanced at Jordan for a moment in the elevators, studying him. Nikki was right, Jordan looked exhausted. There were brown rings underneath his eyes and his face was pale under his tan, with tight lines of anxiety around his eyes and mouth.

"Do you want me to drive?" Brandon asked, and Jordan gave him a surprised look.

"No I'm fine. Really."

Brandon didn't believe him.

They made it home without incident. Jordan threw his keys down on the table and stepped out of his shoes. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said. "Make yourself at home, all right?"

"Sure thing," Brandon said as he watched Jordan disappear up the stairs. He wondered what Jordan had been doing last night after Brandon had passed out, if he had gone to bed or if he had stayed up, thinking of the same things that had been plaguing Brandon's mind all night and day. Nikki. Keith. Leia. Endless possibilities and millions of unanswered questions.

Brandon stared at the ceiling for a few minutes then got to his feet. Pulled by an instinct that was so strong Brandon was hardly able to recognize it, he got to his feet and crept stealthily up the stairs. He went to his room first, took off his boots, his socks, and his various jewelry. Then he went into Jordan's room, listening to the sound of the shower from the connecting bathroom. With a little hesitation, he took off the rest of his clothes, folded them and placed them right outside the door. He turned the knob and stepped inside the wet heat and steam. The sound of falling water seemed very loud in his ears, almost as loud as his heartbeat in his chest. He crossed the room and stepped into the shower, the curtain rustling behind him.

Jordan turned and looked at him, his eyes wide. "What are you-"

"Shh," Brandon said. He stepped up close behind him, pressed his lips against Jordan's bare back, sliding his hand up his stomach. Droplets of water slid over his lips, tickling his fingers. "Is it okay for me to be in here?"

"I-I guess," Jordan said, sounding uncertain.

"Let me wash you," Brandon offered, taking the sponge from Jordan's fingers, soaping it up. He washed Jordan's back, sliding the sponge over smooth skin, suds sliding down his body. Shoulders and ribs next, then he dropped down to run the sponge over the smooth curve of Jordan's ass, down his thighs and calves. It was the first time he had seen Jordan without any clothes on and loved seeing that expanse of tan skin and smooth muscle. He rose back to his feet, pressed himself against Jordan's back, gently kissing his neck, and ran the sponge over his chest. Down his arms and over his hands, then over his stomach, dipping lower and lower. Brandon licked the water up off Jordan's neck, pressing up against his wet body.

The sponge dropped to the floor of the shower as Brandon's hands slid slowly down the wet skin of Jordan's lower abs, combed through the curls of his pubic hair.

"Br-Brandon." Jordan said his name shakily, a moan coming from his lips as Brandon's soapy fingers finally curled around his erection.

"You need to relax." Brandon whispered against his ear, barely audible over the rush of water, his fingers wrapped around Jordan's flesh, jacking him. He could feel Jordan trembling slightly against him. "Let me help you."

"Brandon...ughn...please..." He thrust forward into Brandon's grip, a hand coming up against the shower wall to steady himself. "Please."

"Please what? What do you want, baby? Tell me so I can give it to you."

"Just-" Jordan gasped, swallowed, tried to find the control he needed. "If-If you don't stop, I'm going to-I-"

"That's it, baby." Brandon said, sliding his hand over that hard length. "Go ahead and let it out. Let go; it's all right."

Jordan's orgasm came fast under Brandon's ministrations and he was too soon pulsing in Brandon's hand, spurting cum across the wet tiles, his other hand gripping Brandon's forearm, wrapped securely around his chest.

He panted, mouth open, water running down his face as Brandon gently milked the last remaining drops of cum from his cock. Brandon removed his hand and turned Jordan around to kiss him.

Jordan kissed him back and lifted his hands to Brandon's hips. Shifting back, Jordan moved his hands to stroke Brandon's erection. With only a slight bit of regret, Brandon pulled his hands away. Jordan gave him a questioning look. "Don't-Don't you-"

"Don't worry about me; I'll take care of myself," Brandon reassured him. "I want this just to be for you; to make you feel good."

Jordan sounded confused. "You did. So let me do the same for you."

"Sure thing, babe. Just not right now." Brandon kissed him again, still holding onto his hands. "Right now, just rinse yourself off and go to bed before you fall over. You're exhausted, I can tell. You need to rest and relax."

Jordan turned away and tilted his head back, letting the water slide over his body. Watching him, Brandon had to clench his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching for him again. When he was rinsed clean, Jordan turned and kissed him. "I'm getting out. What about you?" he asked.

"I'll be out in a minute," Brandon promised. Once Jordan had stepped out, Brandon stepped under the cooling spray and washed himself quickly, before taking his aching erection in his hand. He closed his eyes, his hand moving furiously, and he cast about in his mind for anything to focus on, anything at all to keep his mind from being pulled back to the previous night, that low sinister voice in his ear. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but that voice burned through his head, sinful words, hurtful words, promises of pain and humiliation, and he couldn't shake it, even when he was speeding up his rhythm, biting on his lips and clenching his eyes shut as he came and the darkness inside his eyes bloomed colorful red.

He relaxed slightly as the cum leaked out of him, opening his eyes, large black dots hovering over his vision slightly before fading away. Brandon took a couple deep breaths, feeling lightheaded and dizzy, rubbing his hand over his stomach and softening cock, washing away all traces of his orgasm before turning the water off. He stood there for a few minutes, dripping water, staring at the wet floor of the shower.

He had done it again. Gotten off on Keith. On his voice, on his memory. After he was almost raped by him. What the hell was wrong with him? He was so sick. It was fucking sick the way he thought of him sometimes. He sighed and ran a hand down his wet face.

Jordan had left him a towel folded up on the toilet seat and Brandon wrapped it around his waist before leaving the bathroom. He didn't see Jordan in his bedroom, but as he picked up his clothes, he could hear him rummaging in his closet. Brandon went back to the guest bedroom and changed quickly, then returned to Jordan's room.

Jordan was sprawled on his bed, lying on his stomach, changed into a pair of jeans and socks and not much else. Brandon padded over and sat down next to him. When Brandon had been washing him in the shower, he had seen the small tattoo on Jordan's back, up near his shoulder, and he leaned over to take a closer look.

It was a pair of crosses, and between them, printed in simple, neat letters:

RIP
Mom Dad Mattie

"Are you awake?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah," Jordan mumbled.

"Are you religious?" Brandon asked, curious.

Jordan opened his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"You have crosses on your back."

Jordan sighed. "I used to be. Now I'm not so sure." He propped his head up on his arms. "A lot of people think that the cross is a sign of Christianity. I always saw the cross as a symbol of suffering."

"Because Jesus suffered and died on the cross."

"Yeah. And when I asked for a cross to go along with the names of those I had lost, no one asked questions."

"When did you get it done?" Brandon asked.

"A couple of months before I moved here. When I turned eighteen."

"You're eighteen?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were my age. We're in the same grade..."

"I missed a lot of school." Jordan reminded him. "It wasn't high on my list of priorities after I had lost my parents and brother."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Jordan shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He grinned slightly. "Dylan's reaction was priceless. He didn't like it, but since it was in memory of our family, he couldn't really say anything about it."

"I like it," Brandon said honestly, running his fingers over it. He thought it was a special way to memorialize someone--to ink their name into your flesh for the rest of your life, so you would never forget. It was something he would like to do for Leia someday.

"Are you?" Jordan asked.

"What?"

"Religious?"

"I don't know. I guess so," Brandon said. He had attended church with his parents when he was younger. As a child he had always looked upon God as a type of parental figure who would punish him if he was bad. Now he thought God was a wiser, higher power who was probably horribly misunderstood. If he was God, he thought that by now he would be pretty pissed off at all the crap people were trying to pull "in his name". Yeah, he believed in God, whoever the heck he was. But he wasn't sure if he would classify himself as a religious person.

He slowly lowered himself down next to Jordan, lying on his side, propping his head up with one hand. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jordan said immediately. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I wasn't sure if I overstepped myself in the shower there."

"If I didn't want you to do that, I would have said no," Jordan said. "I'm not afraid of saying no to you Brandon, I've done it before. And if you say no to someone, they should honor that."

Crap, he knew where this was going. "Can we not talk about this?" Brandon asked.

"Do you think that's going to make it any better?"

"I'm fine. It wasn't anything I hadn't been through before. And I wasn't the one who ended up with a gun aimed at my chest."

"He wasn't going to shoot me," Jordan said calmly. "I doubt that gun was even loaded; it was just for show."

"You don't know that it wasn't."

"You don't know that it was."

"I don't want to find out the hard way."

Jordan's eyes hardened slightly. "Don't worry about me. Worry more about yourself. You were always the one he was targeting."

"That's because he didn't know who you were. Now he does. He can go after either one of us."

"Do you think he will?" Jordan asked, shifting slightly on the bed.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Well, remember what that woman said? She sounded like she didn't want him to bother with us. Like she had something else on their agenda. Remember, she kept telling him that it was time to go, that they didn't have time for messing around with us."

"Where do you think they are going?" Brandon asked.

"I don't know. Once I call Ray and Cynthia, it won't be our problem anymore," Jordan said. "I don't think they'll be sticking around here."

Brandon sighed. "It's a lot to think about. It makes my head hurt."

Jordan closed his eyes and smiled slightly. "Stop thinking then. Get some rest. You look like you need it, too."

Brandon didn't move and Jordan didn't ask him to, so he fell asleep on the bed, with Jordan next to him. Right before Brandon fell asleep, he felt Jordan's arm drape casually around his waist and smiled.