Microsoft Word - Talkers_Redemption_Lane.docx

going to try and pin anything
    on him, right? I need to see that in writing. Jed’s a good guy.”
    Melville nodded. “It’s a deal.”
    Talker nodded, and wondered about sleep, and then wondered
    about Brian and had a moment to spare to absolutely freak out
    about Brian going into surgery, and then he pulled his attention
    back to Melville. “Are we done? Can I go…?” His face was swollen
    and wrecked anyway. What were a few more helpless tears, right?
    Melville nodded abstractedly. “You’re not going anywhere,” he
    said on a sigh. Then he caught himself. “Hey, would you really
    have… you know. Committed suicide if Brian hadn’t been there?”
    Tate shook his head, remembering Brian’s gentleness the
    night he’d gotten back from Trevor’s. “He’s the only reason I made it
    home in the first place.”
    He stood up then, restlessly, so beyond exhausted he could
    almost channel the glowing line taking him back to Brian. He didn’t
    remember the trip back, but he woke up right quick when he ran
    into the team of medical staff, wheeling Brian’s gurney down the
    hall.
    “Jesus,” he muttered, and Lyndie was there, saying, “Let him
    through, let him through.”
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    “Brian?” he asked, all out of words.
    “Surgery,” Brian muttered. “Love you, baby. See you soon.”
    And they managed a brief clasp of hands before he was
    wheeled away. The last thing Talker saw was the catheter bag at the
    end of the bed, like a crimson flag.
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    Crystal Shards of Christmas Light

    THEY were lucky. With a little bit of quick talking, and some of
    Lyndie’s boyfriend’s handyman skills, they were able to get Brian
    okayed to come home two days before Christmas.
    Between the time Brian hobbled through the door of their
    newly finished threshold, heavily supported by Tate and Jed, and
    the moment Talker had watched him disappear down the white
    hospital hallway, Talker thought he might have aged a hundred
    years, maybe more.
    They really had needed to sedate him after Brian went into
    surgery. He’d started to shake so hard his teeth had rattled and he
    hadn’t been able to pull himself out of it this time. There hadn’t been
    any reason to—not a thing he could have done would have helped
    Brian when he went away into that cold, white room.
    He woke up in the OR recovery room, next to Brian’s bed.
    Lyndie had apparently threatened, begged and cajoled, and he’d
    lain there, still humming Lyndie’s little hymn, and watched Brian
    sleep as his body shook off the sedative. Brian was breathing, he
    was out of danger, he’d survive. The only thing at all in the silence of
    Talker’s head was the music.
    The music had gotten him through the next few weeks, but
    he’d had help. Lyndie had kept him fed and alive until Brian’s
    shoulder surgery was finished, and Brian was up and around and
    very definitely on the mend. Craig had kept an eye on the
    apartment, kept Sunshine warm and fed, and started immediately
    on the ramp and handrails that Brian would need to hobble up and
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    down the stairs to their crappy apartment. Jed had taken up a
    collection at work, and even gone to the restaurant where Brian
    worked, so they could keep paying rent on their crappy apartment
    until Brian’s disability payments kicked in.
    Doc Sutherland had gone to their professors and gotten them
    extensions on their finals, so their entire painfully eked out last
    semester hadn’t been pissed away, and they could continue working
    toward their degrees. He’d even gone to the administration and
    gotten some money for Brian’s next semester, since the tip money
    they depended on for things like registration and books was not
    going to be coming in, even when Brian was up and about.
    And even with all that help, eventually, Talker had needed to go
    back to their crappy apartment and sleep without Brian next to him.
    It had been hard. He’d been so shaken by nightmares the first
    night that he’d run across the street to the drug store for a mild
    sleeping pill, just so he would be able to function the next morning.
    That had been the night before he’d had to go down to the
    courthouse and swear out the deposition that would get Trevor
    arrested, so it had been worth it.
    The day at the courthouse had been a nightmare; without Doc
    on one side and Lyndie on the other, he flat out wouldn’t have made
    it. They