Work Text:
Oliver felt foggy and muddled.
It was the damn medication they forced him to take. He was always straining to remember things he should have just known.
How long had he been here? Who did he need to call to help him get out? Did he even have anyone who could help? Would he have to rely on himself?
They wouldn’t even tell him what pills they were giving him. All they cared about was that he swallowed each one. They checked.
It felt like with each pill he took, a part of his mind faded, slipping into the fog that was seeming to grow every day.
He heard a knock on the door to his room, and a strangely familiar voice calling, “Oliver?”
He didn’t react, unsure if the voice was real, or if his mind was creating something from nothing again, like it had with Sofia.
“Can I come in?” The voice repeated, and an image started to form in Oliver’s mind of the speaker. Tall, blonde, broad shoulders, big hands. God complex. Softer than he seemed.
“Yes, come in,” Oliver said hesitantly, half-believing he was talking to thin air.
The door opened and a man walked in, just like what Oliver had pictured. The man took a few steps into the room, but Oliver quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around him, leaning heavily into the hug.
“Josh,” he sighed, filled with relief. “You came. I need you to get me out of here.”
He felt Josh’s body stiffen briefly, then relax as Josh returned the hug, rubbing his back tentatively.
“I’ll do my best, but I’m limited in what I can do,” Josh said hesitantly.
Oliver stepped back and started to pace. “This place is awful. Dr. Frederick is a fraud. She’s keeping me here against my will. And it’s not just me. There are others.”
“Others? Like who?” Josh asked, sounding skeptical.
“Hector!” Oliver said, then paused as he tried to think of more names. He knew that they were right there, just out of reach of his mind. All he needed to do was concentrate and they would come back to him, out of the fog.
Josh nodded. “I’ll talk to Dr. Frederick and try to get you out of here.” He sounded uncertain, and Oliver felt like he was hiding something.
“Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me again,” Oliver blurted. This wasn’t the kind of thing he would have said out loud normally, but he felt anything but normal. His mind was all mixed up, struggling to keep his thoughts in order. Was Josh really there? He reached out to grasp Josh’s forearm and it felt convincingly solid in his hand.
Josh was visibly uncomfortable at the contact but didn’t try to pull away. “Again? I left you?”
Oliver released Josh and looked away from him. “You didn’t. Not really. But it felt that way when you started seeing Beau.”
“Don’t talk about him,” Josh said sharply.
Surprised by the abrupt change in tone, Oliver turned back to Josh. He looked angry. But why? Oliver selfishly hoped that Josh had broken up with Beau. What did he see in Beau anyway, besides himself?
“I have to go. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Josh looked like he was struggling to compose himself, and Oliver reached out to him instinctively, but Josh recoiled. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something and Oliver waited, wondering why Josh seemed so uncomfortable around him. They were still friends, even if they weren’t together. At least that was what Oliver thought.
“Don’t go,” he said softly, looking at Josh with pleading eyes. But Josh just shook his head and walked out of the room, leaving him alone.
Oliver sat down heavily in his armchair, confused and hurt.
Josh came back the next day, just like he’d promised. In the past, Oliver wouldn’t have any doubts that he’d return, but he seemed different now. There was always a warmth between them, even when they’d fought, even after Josh had started seeing Beau again. But this warmth had been absent the day before, and it made Oliver’s heart ache.
“I brought you something,” Josh said tentatively, and he handed a stack of Neurology Journals to Oliver.
“Thank you,” Oliver said, setting the journals down onto his desk without looking at them. “Did you talk to Dr. Frederick?”
The guilty expression on Josh’s face answered his question. His heart sank. Josh wasn’t going to help him. He couldn’t depend on anyone else to get him out of Hudson Oaks. He was all by himself. Again.
“How do you feel?” Josh asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“How do you think I feel?” Oliver responded harshly. “I’m trapped here, and you don’t care.”
Josh looked sympathetic but didn’t deny the accusation. He frowned, as if he was thinking hard about something.
“Do you want to go outside?” Josh asked finally. “So you won’t feel trapped?”
Oliver nodded, but something didn’t feel quite right. Why would Josh phrase his question that way? As if Oliver had the choice to go outside, as if he wasn’t locked up against his will.
He was surprised when Josh took his arm and guided him to the door. Josh had been aloof towards him, and now he was making physical contact with him unnecessarily. Oliver was getting lost in the fog again, the order in his world dissolving and morphing.
There was an orderly in the hallway outside, leaning against a wall. He straightened up immediately at the sight of them leaving his room but Josh held his hand up and shook his head. The orderly relaxed slightly. Oliver could tell that he was still wary though, like he thought that Oliver might make a run for it.
He was definitely considering it.
Then he looked at the hallway again. It wasn’t right. There should have been fluorescent lights overhead, rows of doors to the patient rooms. Instead he saw wallpaper, a staircase with a wooden banister, and a console table with some potted ferns on it.
Oliver stepped back into his room, pulling his arm out of Josh’s grasp. He shook his head, mumbling, “No, this is wrong. I’m not—I’m in…”
Josh approached him slowly. “You’re in…?” He prompted in a gentle voice.
It was the wallpaper that didn’t make sense. Oliver focused on the pattern, a repeating sequence of muted green layers of fern fronds climbing up to the ceiling. It looked like something he would have chosen.
What was in those pills? Whatever they gave him shouldn’t be giving him hallucinations. If they would just tell him what medication they’d prescribed him he could figure out the problem. Physician, heal thyself.
Josh was still looking at him expectantly, but he couldn’t trust that Josh was even there. He closed the door and went to lie down on his bed. Perhaps the fog would dissipate after a long rest. He was so very tired.
Before the drugs and the ensuing haziness, Oliver had been able to tear through medical journals. Now he was re-reading sentences in every article, trying to recall what some of the terms meant. He had a tablet he could have used to look things up, but frustratingly, he couldn’t figure out how to turn it on and he definitely wasn't going to ask for help from anyone at the facility.
He tried to call Josh. He looked for the phone that Josh had given him when they started dating, but he couldn’t find it. It must have been confiscated at some point. He did find a rotary phone, of all things, in his room. He picked up the receiver but there was no dial tone, and tracing the cord revealed that it wasn’t even plugged in. He couldn’t find any phone jacks anywhere.
Oliver admitted defeat and went back to reading the journal he’d been slowly making his way through. The next article was an editorial and he read the title, then the author’s name and stopped in surprise. He skimmed through the article, feeling a growing sense of dread. It was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He flipped back to the first page of the article and stared at the name, as if he expected it to have changed.
He reached for an explanation, but all he managed to find was nothingness. He knew that he just needed to concentrate for long enough and he’d make it through the fog and have his answers, but it was so hard to break through.
Finally, Oliver closed the journal and dropped it on his desk. He’d just have to ask Josh later to explain what was going on. It was Josh who had brought him the journals, wasn’t it?
By the time Josh came to his room, Oliver had forgotten his questions about the Neurology Journal. He was preoccupied with thinking about how to get out of Hudson Oaks, and he barely had the mental resources to try to formulate a plan. He kept having to hold the same thought in his mind, repeating it over and over to make it stick. Once he had cemented that step of the plan, he moved onto the next one, but then he’d have to remember all of the previous steps as well.
It was exhausting.
“How are you today, Oliver?” Josh asked, looking carefully at Oliver as if he was studying him. “Did you read any of the journals I brought you?”
Oliver looked at the stack of journals on his desk. The mention of them gave him a strange feeling, as if there was something important he’d read in one of them, but he couldn’t remember what it was.
“I did,” he said slowly. “I think… I think I had some questions I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t call you. I don’t have a phone. They took my phone, Josh. The one you gave me because you were sick of playing phone tag when you went to that medical conference.”
Josh stared at him like he had no idea what he was talking about, and Oliver’s heart sank. Had their relationship meant so little to Josh that he couldn’t even remember his gift? Oliver felt silly that a chunk of glass, metal and silicon could be of such importance to him. That it could make him feel loved.
The sound of drawers being opened and closed drew his attention in the direction of his bed. Josh seemed to be searching the nightstands on either side of his bed for something. He retrieved what looked like a thin black rectangular hand-sized piece of metal from one of the drawers.
“Here, can you hold this for a couple of seconds?”
Oliver stared at the object in Josh’s outstretched hand. It seemed to be a phone, although it was absurdly thin compared to the one that had been confiscated. Josh had been behaving strangely, but Oliver decided to trust him, and he took the phone from him briefly, then handed it back.
Josh started tapping and sliding his finger over the surface of the phone, frowning a little. He seemed to be searching for something and not finding it. Oliver looked more closely at his face. His crow’s feet were gone, or at least greatly minimized.
“Did you get Botox?” Oliver asked, sounding slightly outraged by Josh’s vanity, but also sad because he was fond of the crow’s feet. They were one of the first things that he’d been able to recognize about Josh.
“What?” Josh seemed confused again.
“Your wrinkles.” Oliver pointed at the corner of his eye.
Josh didn’t answer and handed the phone to Oliver instead. “You can use that to text me if you need anything.”
Oliver walked over to his desk and placed the phone next to the stack of journals. Looking at them reminded him of one of the questions that he’d wanted to ask Josh.
“What’s Zlato?”
“Zlato? It’s an AI app patients use for MCBT.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Why do you know something that I don’t that doesn’t involve slicing and dicing?” Oliver asked in a snippy tone.
Josh chuckled. “It’s new. And I am interested in neurology as well. I do want to understand how brains work before I cut into them.”
He walked over to stand next to Oliver and looked down at the journals. “Was there anything else interesting you read?”
Oliver felt like there was an urgent question he needed to ask when he thought about the journals, but his head grew foggier the more he tried to concentrate. He felt tired again and he tried to fight through it. Suddenly his legs felt weak and the next thing he knew, Josh was helping him into bed, his strong arms laying him down carefully.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” Josh said, sounding concerned. “I’ll let you rest now. I'll come back tomorrow.”
“No, don’t leave. I just need to close my eyes for a bit. Sit with me?” Oliver looked at him with pleading eyes.
Josh nodded and pulled a chair over so he could sit by the bed. Oliver didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he did, and when he woke up hours later, Josh was gone.
Oliver was confused by his new phone. He had barely gotten proficient enough in the most basic functionality of his old phone, and now he had to learn what seemed to be an entirely new interface.
He tried to call Carol after he woke up alone. Josh had been completely useless in helping him to get out, if seemingly well-meaning and sporadically kind. He trusted Carol to help him. She would know what to do.
“Hello?”
Carol sounded a little different, perhaps slightly raspy.
“Carol? It’s Oliver. I’m locked up in Hudson Oaks. You have to get me out!”
There was a long silence.
“Carol? Are you still there?”
Oliver heard Carol take a deep breath. He was relieved that his call hadn’t been ended by the facility. Could they do something like that?
“Is there anyone with you?” She asked.
“There’s an orderly outside. At least I think he’s there. He’s always there. And Josh visits me every day. But he isn’t doing anything! I need your help, Carol!”
“Josh?” Carol sounded surprised, and maybe slightly concerned.
“Yes, Josh,” Oliver said dismissively. “Forget about him. I need to leave. Dr. Frederick can’t keep me here against my will.”
“Oh.” There was another long pause, and Oliver almost said something again to check if Carol was still there, but she started to speak again before he did. “Have you… spoken to Dr. Frederick?”
There was something about the delay in the middle of her sentence that sounded strange to Oliver. What was going on? First Josh had been obtuse and unhelpful and now Carol seemed to be behaving the same way.
“The orderly told me that I can’t. I’ve asked. She won’t speak to me.” As soon as Oliver finished talking, he felt unsettled. He thought that the orderly might have said something different in response, something that didn’t make sense. But he couldn’t recall the exact words.
“I can’t help you right now, Oliver, I’m… out of town. But you should ask… Josh. He wants what’s best for you, even if it doesn’t seem that way.”
Oliver was becoming more than unsettled. Carol seemed to be hiding things from him, maybe even lying to him. She was supposed to be his best friend. Why would she do that?
“Why won’t you help me? I need you.”
This time there was only a short silence, then he thought he heard a soft sob.
“I’m sorry, Oliver,” Carol said in a shaky voice. Then she hung up.
It felt like Oliver was losing time. What were they giving him that could do that? Benzos? He wasn’t anxious. Zolpidem or Eszopiclone? He wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Not an anticonvulsant or antidepressant. He had never had seizures and he wasn’t depressed.
Perhaps the problem was that they were medicating him for something he didn’t have. He wouldn’t put it past Dr. Frederick. He had asked Josh what medications they were giving him, but he had responded in gibberish. At least that’s what Oliver thought had happened.
He wasn’t quite sure about much anymore.
Oliver had tried calling Carol again but she didn’t pick up. He texted her asking her to call him back, but she never did. He was becoming increasingly desperate and even tried contacting his mother. He couldn’t find her contact information saved on his phone, but he had her number memorized, of course. When he dialed her number he found out that it was disconnected.
He felt more alone than ever and didn’t respond when he heard the gentle knock on his door.
“Oliver?” It was Josh, and he sounded concerned.
Despite how unhelpful and at times downright cold Josh had been, Oliver still felt an emotional connection to him. It seemed like such a long time ago when they were together. Oliver had never told Josh how special he was to him, not even after Josh had said he was falling for him. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it to himself because he was afraid, and then he had lost Josh anyway.
“Come in,” Oliver said, suddenly wanting to see him.
The door opened and Josh walked in. He smiled at Oliver, seeming somewhat reserved, as if something had happened the last time he was there. Oliver frowned, trying hard to remember. He had the vague feeling that Josh had been worried about him. Maybe he had taken a fall?
“How do you feel today?”
Josh sat down in the chair next to the bed and Oliver propped his pillow up against the headboard so he could lean back against it.
“Betrayed.”
Oliver had expected Josh to look guilty, but he scoffed instead, as if Oliver had said something ridiculous. He glared and considered asking Josh to leave.
“Did something happen?” Josh asked, back to sounding concerned, and Oliver decided that he could stay for now.
“I called Carol and she doesn’t want to help me either,” Oliver said bitterly.
Josh buried his head in his hands and sighed. “I want to help you, Oliver.”
“You haven’t done a thing to get me out of here!”
“I’ve been trying,” Josh sighed, then looked at him with an almost unnerving intensity. “But I can’t get you to leave.”
“What?” Oliver was outraged. “That makes no fucking sense.”
Josh seemed to be examining Oliver’s expression carefully, almost as if he was evaluating a patient’s state.
“Let’s go, then. Come on, get up.”
Oliver scrambled eagerly out of bed, but he was stiff from lying in bed for so long. Josh took his arm to assist him and Oliver didn’t want his help but accepted it anyway.
“I’m up now, you don’t have to keep holding on to me,” Oliver said shortly.
“You had problems getting down the stairs the last time,” Josh said. “I don’t feel good about you going by yourself.”
Oliver tried to remember the last time they’d taken the stairs together but couldn’t. Why was Josh making things up? His thoughts alternated between trying to remember if what Josh said was true and figuring out what Josh’s motivation could be if he was lying.
“Are you ready?” Josh asked gently.
Oliver nodded. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed they were already in front of a large wooden door with a frosted pane of glass embedded in it. Sunlight was streaming in and the warmth felt good where the rays hit his skin.
Josh opened the door and Oliver stepped outside, looking around and taking everything in. Then he stepped back, stumbling a little. Josh was there to catch him and Oliver turned and buried his face in his chest, confused and overwhelmed.
“It’s okay, Oliver,” Josh said, rubbing his back soothingly. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
Josh had a couple more issues of Neurology Journal in his hand the next time he visited.
“You said you finished reading the ones you have, so…” He added the journals to the stack on the desk and straightened the pile.
Oliver chuckled. “It hurts you to leave anything messy, doesn’t it?”
Josh had a distant look on his face for a moment, then he nodded and smiled. “I guess it does.”
It seemed like he was about to say more, but his phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket, frowning as he looked at the screen.
“I’m going to step out for a moment to take this.”
Josh walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, but Oliver could hear his voice. It was too muffled to make any words out and Oliver’s curiosity got the better of him. He went to the door and pressed his ear against it, straining to hear Josh’s side of the conversation.
“Yes, I’m with Oliver.”
“I know you don’t want me spending time with him.”
“I’m aware of what he did.”
“I’m not fucking choosing him over you.” A deep sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to hurt you. That’s not what this is about.”
“I want to help him.”
“This is pointless. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”
“I love you too. Bye.”
Oliver hurried over to his desk and grabbed one of the journals that Josh had just brought over, opening it to a random page. Josh’s words were echoing in his mind. He loved Beau. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. They were planning to have a baby together. Of course he loved him.
It didn’t make it hurt any less.
The door opened and Josh walked in. He seemed annoyed. Then he saw Oliver’s expression and the annoyance was replaced by concern. He moved to stand in front of Oliver so they were face to face, and Oliver immediately gave up pretending that he was reading the journal.
“What’s wrong?”
“Was that Beau?”
Josh looked surprised, as if he didn’t think Oliver would have been able to guess who he’d been on the phone with. He nodded slowly.
“I don’t want to get between the two of you. Maybe you shouldn’t come see me anymore. You’re no fucking help, anyway.” Oliver tried to hide his feelings behind a joke.
Josh tensed and for a moment, there was a hurt expression on his face. It passed quickly, though, and he said, “I’m not giving up on you. Just like you’ve never given up on anyone. I’ll find a way to help you.”
The next time Josh visited, he seemed excited about something. He got his sleek, black phone out of his pocket and started tapping on the screen.
“I’m trying something,” Josh said with a smile. “You might appreciate this.”
Oliver moved closer, trying to peer at Josh’s phone, but then his room filled with the warm, resonant sound of a cello. He recognized it instantly, although it took a while for the composer and name of the piece to come to him.
“Bach. Cello Suite No. 1.” Oliver closed his eyes, getting lost in the music. It filled his ears, filled his mind, slowly dispersing the fog that had built up in his head. Images flashed through his mind, mostly of his time at Bronx General. As a child with his parents, then as an adult running the neurology department. He saw the interns, Carol, his mother, and Josh.
Gradually, the stream of images started to become dominated by Josh, until eventually they were all of him. Josh kissing him back after he’d followed his heart and crossed the street to kiss him. Josh smiling at him in a way that made him warm inside. Josh naked in bed next to him, stroking his hair as they fell asleep together.
Oliver opened his eyes to see a tall, blonde, blue-eyed man looking at him with a hopeful smile.
But that man wasn’t Josh.
“Gabriel?” Oliver guessed uncertainly after thinking for a moment.
The man looked surprised and pleased. “It worked,” he said softly.
The name had come to Oliver, but he hadn’t quite placed who Gabriel was yet, or where he fit into his life. Why had he thought that it was Josh? There was definitely a strong physical resemblance, but he depended on other cues as well to identify people. There was such a strong association in his mind.
Oliver started to see other images as well, and suddenly Josh looked very different. He’d always had the crow’s feet that Oliver was so fond of, but now the rest of his face was wrinkled as well. The greying hair had turned white.
He saw an image of this older Josh standing with Gabriel, who was glaring at him, full of hatred, and he understood and remembered, just enough to feel a deep sorrow.
“Gabriel,” he repeated, then the full weight of the memory hit him and he started to cry. “Josh, he’s— he’s—“
Gabriel stepped forward to hug Oliver. “I know, I miss him too. I miss him all the time.”
Oliver stiffened, uncomfortable now that he knew it wasn’t Josh who was hugging him. He suddenly noticed differences that he hadn’t seen before: Gabriel was more tanned, slightly taller and skinnier than Josh. It was clear as day now that he knew who it was.
“You didn’t tell me. You let me think that you’re him.” Oliver sounded confused.
Gabriel looked guilty. “I wanted to. But I didn’t want to upset you. I don’t know if I did the right thing.”
Oliver nodded. “I suppose I would have done the same thing.” He looked sharply at Gabriel. “Why are you here?”
“Dad asked me to take care of you.”
“Oh.” Oliver didn’t know if Josh had ever told him this, or if he’d kept it a secret. “You don’t have to. I know how you feel about me.”
Gabriel frowned. “It was the situation. I was young. It was easy to blame you.”
Oliver looked carefully at him. “But you were hurt. I’m really sorry.”
The room suddenly felt stuffy, as if he hadn’t left it in days. He tried to remember the last time he’d left it, but the answer was just out of his grasp, like it was filed away in a cabinet that was too high for him to reach. He went to open a window but it was locked shut.
“Do you want to go downstairs? I’ll make some tea.”
Oliver nodded and he followed Gabriel out of his room. The hallway was still unfamiliar to him, but the fern and the wallpaper led him to think that this was his home. Gabriel seemed unhappy when Oliver refused his help down the stairs, and he only acquiesced when Oliver promised to hold on to the handrail.
Gabriel put the kettle on while Oliver looked around the kitchen. It wasn’t as cozy as the one in his home - his old home - but he did feel comfortable in it. He recognized some of his mugs, the ones that were old and chipped and stained. Many of them seemed to be from pharmaceutical or medical equipment companies, and he didn’t recognize those. He wouldn’t have kept or used mugs like that. Did they belong to Josh? Did Josh live here with him? He tried to recall the details but it was taking a lot of effort.
It was strange to remember the Josh of decades earlier, but to have to work so hard to remember anything recent. All he knew was that he felt safe and loved when he tried to reach for those memories. The shrill whistling of the kettle interrupted his thoughts.
“There’s another reason for my visits,” Gabriel said hesitantly. He poured hot water into two mugs and added a tea bag to each, then brought them to the kitchen table and sat down. Oliver sat down across the table from him and prepared for whatever bad news he was about to receive.
“I want you to tell me about Dad.”
Oliver looked surprised. Josh had been very involved in his son’s life. Surely Gabriel must have known him well. “What do you want to know?”
“He was a different man when he was with you. It was the most alive I’d ever seen him. I didn’t get to see that much. That’s what I want to know about.”
It sounded right, that Josh was full of joy. Oliver could see his face - his older face - smiling, probably after teasing him about something. That smile unlocked more memories, and suddenly they were all crowding him at once, jumbled and out of order. He tried to make sense of them all. Holding Josh’s wrinkled hand at that kitchen table like they were teenagers. Complaining about the cold when Josh dragged him to go camping. Josh watering his ferns. Watching a football game on TV with him and criticizing the potential for serious brain injuries.
Josh standing at his door, telling him that he’d left Beau and that he loved Oliver, that he’d always loved him. Oliver had always loved him too, but Josh had gotten married and started a family, so he’d buried his feelings and tried to move on. Everything resurfaced that day.
The sound of Gabriel’s voice brought him out of his reverie, and he tried to focus on what he was saying.
“I thought that was just the way he was. I don’t know, muted, I guess.”
Gabriel sipped his tea as Oliver looked at the matching mug he held in his hand. He sniffed the contents. He could tell it was Earl Grey from the scent, and the color told him that a splash of milk had been added. He sipped his tea as well, then noticed Gabriel looking expectantly at him. What were they talking about? Oliver felt sure that he knew the answer, it would just take him a little time to figure it out. It must have been about Josh. That was the only thing they had in common.
“He was hard on you because he wanted you to be your best. He loved you very much.” Oliver remembered how Josh would light up whenever he talked about his son. It seemed like it was the only thing that made him happy back then.
“I know,” Gabriel sighed. “But it felt like he was holding back. Until…”
“Until he left,” Oliver finished for him.
Gabriel nodded. “I hated you. I know now it wasn’t your fault. But back then, I hated you.”
Oliver didn’t know what to say so he took another sip of his tea.
“My father was completely blindsided. He had no idea. Dad never said anything before that. I went to college and he just left. Pai—“ Gabriel paused, realizing that Oliver wouldn’t know who he was talking about. “—Beau didn’t know that Dad didn’t love him.”
“Your father loved Beau,” Oliver said softly.
“But not the way he loved you.” Gabriel sounded bitter, but he looked calm. Oliver knew that he had been angry for years. He wasn’t sure exactly when Gabriel had started tolerating his presence, but he was grateful when it happened. He knew that it had weighed on Josh, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“He loved that Beau was a good father to you. He didn’t have that when he was growing up. He wanted you to have a good childhood.”
“It was all fucking fake.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Did he cheat on my father with you?”
“No!” Oliver was surprised by the accusation. “I swear, nothing happened while they were together. And it wasn’t fake. It was what he wanted, to have a family.”
He looked at Gabriel, sitting there stoically, and he saw Josh again, hiding his feelings all of those years. Did it hurt him to see Oliver with his succession of boyfriends? As much as it hurt Oliver to see Josh with Beau?
“When he told me he was going to leave Pai, he told me he waited until I left for college, as if that would make me feel better. How the fuck was I supposed to feel knowing that I was the reason he couldn’t be with you, like he wanted?”
Oliver frowned. What Gabriel said didn’t sound right. It felt like the opposite of what happened, although he couldn’t quite explain why. Josh had left Beau because of Gabriel, not in spite of him. He was sure of it.
“I should have told him all of this while I still could. But I didn’t want to upset him. He was so sick.” Gabriel sighed.
Oliver didn’t remember anything about Josh being sick, but he felt the profound sadness of his loss, like a part of him was missing. And he thought he remembered what Josh had said when he had come to see him after he left Beau.
“He said, ‘Without love, breath… breath…’”
“Breath is just a clock ticking. He said the same thing to me.”
Oliver reached over to take Gabriel’s hands in his. His fingers weren’t quite as long as Josh’s and Oliver’s heart ached with how much he missed those freakishly, stupidly large hands.
“He wanted you to know that if you ever have a chance for love — true love — you should take it. That it’s never too late, never too complicated. That it’s always worth it.”
Gabriel looked away but didn’t withdraw his hands. He took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself then turned back to face Oliver.
“I guess the music worked for you. Just like it did for Harold. Don’t expect me to take you anywhere on a motorcycle, though. I don’t own one.”
“Did Josh tell you about that? He always thought it was really irresponsible of me.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I read about that case in your book.”
“You read my book?” Oliver asked, pleasantly surprised, then added to himself, “I wrote a book?”
“Several, actually. I’ve read all of them.” Gabriel saw the confusion on Oliver’s face. “Not for fun, although I did find them interesting. I’m a neurology resident.”
“Your parents must have loved that,” Oliver said playfully. He hadn’t been playful in a long time.
“Oh definitely. Their disappointment in me was the best bonding experience they’d had in years.” Gabriel grinned.
Oliver sat back and sipped his tea, chuckling softly. He wondered if he would still remember this conversation the next day. He wondered if he’d recognize Gabriel again. Then he decided it didn’t matter because he was lucid in that moment, and there was value in that.
“My shift is going to start soon,” Gabriel said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. We can talk more then.”
There was doubt on Gabriel’s face as he spoke, and perhaps some of the same thoughts had occurred to him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Oliver watched as Gabriel got up to leave the room, and as he walked away, he seemed to become less Gabriel and more Josh, until he was a little of both. Maybe he would never truly lose Josh, not as long as Gabriel was alive.
His mind was the clearest it had been in a long time and he started reading another one of the neurology journals that Gabriel had brought to him as he finished his tea.