Brothers by Bond Page 3

  Mike had always wished his family was more like the Baxters, and for the longest time he thought that it was his wish that brought about the death of his parents. Strangely though, he never felt guilty for feeling that way. Even as he and Johnny stood watching from Johnny's window as the flames consumed his home across the street.

  Mike shook his head to clear the image that changed his life for the better. He gazed down at the picture of him and Johnny, arms around each other shoulders and grinning like dorky fools. They had every reason to be happy and not just because it was Johnny's birthday. Four days before, the Baxters officially became Mike's adoptive parents and Johnny was so excited that he told everyone Mike was his brother. So much so, that Mike didn't think there was a single kid at school who didn't already know. Best friend's to brothers out of the ashes of Mike's old life.

  And now I could lose it all. Mike hung his head before giving himself a shake and turning the page. Almost every picture showed him and Johnny together although there were a few of them individually. Mike stared at one of those now.

  Junior prom. Johnny had taken Marissa Campbell and Mike took Linda McAllister. They both look so young. Hell, they were and Mike remembered Johnny bragging about losing his cherry that night.

  Johnny was always the ladies man with his blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Eyes I may never look into again. He was always the outgoing one, reckless, and fun while Mike was his wing man. The girls flocked to Johnny like bees to nectar but he never seemed to notice. That was just how his best friend was. Mike didn't know when he had retrieved another beer or the last three for that matter, but the buzz was welcomed as he turned another page in the album.

  Looking through the album was like stepping back in time only in reverse. There were pictures of them with the track team when they went to state for cross country and pictures of them playing soccer their senior year. Mike was built more for football but when Johnny suggested soccer, Mike followed his lead as he usually did. With Johnny as the team's Sweeper, Mike's job as Goalie was a cakewalk; at least it was during the games. The coach always wanted to move Johnny into a midfield position but Johnny would beg off saying he liked the backfield. Mike like having him back there as well.

  As the memories continued to swirl off the pages of the album, Mike felt his heart breaking. He could not imagine surviving if all he had left of Johnny were the images on the paper before him.

  Mike rose to grab another beer and realized he was out. It was probably for the best if he was going to be at the hospital early tomorrow. He left everything on his battered kitchen table, killed the lights, and took his sorry ass to bed.

  ***

  Mike woke with a start, covered in sweat, as the dredges of his nightmare faded away. He could not remember the details as he sat gasping for breath but knew it had something to do with Johnny. The ache in his heart told him so. His first instinct was to call the hospital but if something had happened to his brother, he did not want to hear it over the phone.

  Mike looked at his bedside clock. 4 AM. Screw visiting hours, he was going to the hospital. With his mind made up, he climbed out of bed to shower. After he was dressed, he was thankful one of the guys had brought his truck home from the station. Waiting on a cab would have driven him crazy.

  The ICU floor was quiet, only the faint beeps from the machines being heard, so Mike thought he could make it to Johnny's room unnoticed. No such luck.

  "Now Mr. Morgan," a quiet voice called from behind him and he turned. "You know visiting hours don't begin for another," the floor nurse looked at her watch, "three hours."

  Mike gave her his best shy grin. "You won't even know I am here."

  "Others won't, but I will," she replied and Mike waited for her to escort him from the ICU. "Go on, then," she nodded her head in the direction of Johnny's room.

  "Thanks," Mike nodded his head and resumed walking.

  Johnny lay just as he had when Mike had last laid eyes on him. There were more flowers and balloons about the room than there were yesterday but Mike ignored them all as he made his way to the chair by Johnny's bed.

  "God, I miss you so much already." Mike took his best friend's limp hand in his own. He could still see the pale line on his ring finger from where Johnny had worn his wedding band for the last years. How long before it faded to match his tan? What an ugly divorce that was and the beginning of everything that changed for the worse with Mike. As he held Johnny's hand he let the memory of that night play through is mind.

  "Miiikeeeee," Johnny's voice could barely be heard over the blaring music in the background when Mike answered his cell. "You know I loooove you, bro."

  "Johnny, where are you?" Mike asked and couldn't remember the last time he had heard his brother so drunk.

  "Wh *hic* air am I?" Johnny replied before asking, "Where are you?"

  Shit, Mike thought. "Johnny, man, tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

  "Nah, dona wanta *hic* be got." Johnny slurred over the music. "Just *hic* wanted to..." Johnnie paused.

  "Wanted to what, Johnny? What happened?" Mike asked as he was already heading out the door to his truck.

  "Wanted, wanted you to know... I love you, bro." Johnny's words made Mike's gut tighten. The way his brother said those three words was somehow different, from all the other times he had heard them, and not because his brother was drunk off his ass.

  Oh, this is so not good, Mike thought and shook off the feeling.

  "I love you too, bro," if only you knew how much, Mike wanted to add but instead said, "Where are you Johnny?" Mike could hear the music in the background dying down, almost like Johnny was moving away from the source.

  "I am lost, bro, so lost," Johnny slurred.

  "I'll find you, Johnny. Stay where you are." Lost? Shit, Johnny.

  "You… you *hic* always do." That was the last thing Mike heard before the line went dead.

  Thankfully, his smart phone had the app to show him where Johnny was and his brother had his version of the app running. It took him forty minutes to track down his brother, get him in the truck, and get back to the house. Mike had to half carry Johnny into the house and when he went to dump his best friend on the couch, so he could make coffee, Johnny pulled him down with him.

  "Omph," Mike exhaled as he landed on top of Johnny, who decided this was the funniest thing in the world. Mike's body responded to his best friend and his mind thought none of this was funny at all.

  As he tried to scramble off his brother, Johnny just held him tighter. Mike's only saving grace was that his best friend was more than likely too drunk to notice the hard on that was being pressed against his thigh.

  "She's gone, bro. Just gone." All the laughter had died from Johnny's lips. Mike had known that Johnny and Susan were having problems but apparently they were worse than his brother had led him to believe. "She just up and left with that shit head who's been banging her."

  Mike tried to push off Johnny once more and this time he was allowed to stand.

  "Damn, bro." Mike didn't know what else to say as he watched Johnny drunkenly sit up on the couch. "I'll make some coffee."

  Mike turned toward the kitchen but stopped when Johnny moaned. "Gonna..." Johnny started and leaned forward on the couch. "Gonna... Sick."

  Oh shit. "Not down here," Mike moved quick to help Johnny stand and prayed he could get him to the bathroom in time without being puked on in the process.

  When it seemed Johnny was done doing just that, he passed out cold hugging the bowl. Mike had been there before so he just grabbed a towel off the rack and draped it like a blanket over Johnny shoulders before he took his own ass to bed.

  The next morning, Mike woke up warm and hard from a dream he had been having about his best friend. Only it wasn't a dream when he realized he wasn't alone in his bed. At some point during the night, Johnny had crawled into his bed. Not only was his brother in his bed, spooning him no less, if the silky hardness he felt pressing against his ass was anything to go
by, he was naked as well.

  Mike lay frozen and tried to calm his racing heart. He and Johnny hadn't shared a bed since they were fourteen and even then they had never cuddled. Shit. Mike knew that nothing had happened between them and that Johnny's reaction to him was just morning wood but he also knew his own erection had nothing to do with it being morning.

  Fuck! It's true then, Mike mentally admitted to himself what he had known for months now. Nothing has to change. We will go on as always, he told himself as he tried to ignore the pleasant weight of Johnny's hand on his hip. Get out of bed, Mikey. Get out of the bed before he wakes the fuck up. Mike's mind spurred him into action and he carefully slid out from under his brother's hand and away from his body.

  That was the first time I knew, Johnny, Mike thought as he stared down at his best friend lying so peacefully in the hospital bed. For almost two years he had been hiding his feelings from his best friend, his brother, who knew him better than anyone else. And I will keep hiding them from you, bro, because you mean too much to me to lose.

  Mike reached for Mrs. B.'s photo album with his free hand and opened it at the beginning. The same birthday pictures that he had viewed in his own album the night before greeted him and he began to talk.

  "Hey, bro," Mike began tentatively and was startled at how loud his soft voice sounded in the room.

  "Remember your twelfth birthday? That freaky clown your mom hired and the slip n' slide. I thought Jimmy Dockerty was faking it when he came off that thing holding his arm. If he hadn't been such a class clown, maybe we would have believed him sooner when he said his arm was broken." Mike imagined Johnny laughing at the memory and even telling him about how Jimmy probably still had that clown's nose he stole before he broke his arm. Jimmy wore that stupid stolen nose to school for the entire week after the party and even came up with a story about how this crazy clown had broken his arm.

  Mike relaxed and talked to Johnny. In his head he could almost hear Johnny's replies. What I wouldn't give to hear them from your own lips, bro.

  Mike only stopped talking when the dayshift nurse came in to check on his best friend. She gave him a knowing look that said she wouldn't tell anyone he was there before visiting hours actually began. Once she left, Mike began talking to Johnny again but not about the memories they shared in the album.

  "So, when you see this room, I know you will agree with me. It's like a florist shop threw up in here, bro." Mike tried to keep his voice light in case Johnny really could hear him.

  "Now, Mikey, is that any way to talk about these gestures of caring?" Mrs. B. Said as she made her way into the room.

  "No, but it's true," Mike stood so she could take the seat closest to Johnny.

  Mrs. B. looked around the room at all of the floral arrangements before she sat down. "I am sure he will agree with you," she smiled sadly. "So who did you threaten to arrest if they didn't let you in before visiting hours actually started?"

  "Now would I do something like that, Mrs. B.?" Mike put a shocked look upon his face.

  "I wouldn't put it past you, especially where Johnny is concerned."

  Mike couldn't help but grin at how well his adoptive mother knew him but when his gaze shifted to Johnny, his grin disappeared.

  "I'll let you and Mr. B. visit. I'll be back later," Mike said and had to make himself leave Johnny side.

  "Make sure you eat something, Michael," Mrs. B. reminded him.

  "I will, Mrs. B.," Mike said as he left ICU 4.

  Chapter 4

  For almost two weeks Mike had been coming to the hospital now. He had fallen into a routine. The Baxters would visit with Johnny in the morning and Mike would come back in the afternoon until the Baxters returned that evening. Then he would go home, eat whatever Mrs. B gave him that day, drink a six pack and hit the rack. Mike never slept long and by three or four AM he was back at Johnny side.

  Jillian, the night nurse, turned a blind eye to his creeping into the ICU ward and he was sure leaving her Hershey Kisses every night didn't hurt.

  So, here he was again, sitting next to his best friend and holding his limp hand. Mike had worked his way through the photo album once already. It seemed like there were only so many stories he could tell about their high school days, being stationed in Germany when they were MPs, or their time at the police academy. It wasn't that Mike was running out of things to say, it was just that he was starting to feel like a broken record.

  He steadfastly avoided talking about anything that had to do with Susan. Mike didn't dare tell his brother all of the other things he had longed to say on the off chance that Johnny really could hear him. With a sigh, Mike started talking about their military days again because hell, he had to talk to Johnny about something.

  "You think Boom ever managed to take that trip to Australia? I bet it's hot as hell down there. Doubt they have any native Latinos either. Knowing Boom, he probably found him an Aussie chick and is populating the country by now." Mike rattled on as he looked at the photo of him and Johnny in their uniforms. Their black MP bands stood out in stark contrast against the Army green.

  "What about Smithers? I bet he climbed right up the ranks. I think he stored the Army manuals up his ass." On and on Mike rambled about the guys that they served with, about what those guys might be doing now, until he just seemed to run out of words.

  Mike startled when he felt pressure on his hand and he didn't even notice the photo album fall from his lap to the floor. He just stared at where his hand held Johnny's and tried to decide if it was his imagination playing tricks on him or not.

  "Johnny?" Mike called out to him in a quietly hopeful voice but never took his gaze from their joined hands.

  When Johnny gave his hand another soft squeeze, Mike leapt out of his chair and hit the nurse call button so fast, he had to steady himself against the bed. He never let go of Johnny's hand and when he finally dared to look at Johnny's face, he was greeted with those sky-blue eyes that he thought he would never see again.

  Johnny's lips moved but no sound came out. However, Mike didn't need the sound to know what his best friend said: 'M&M.'

  "Don't try to talk. Jillian will be here in a moment," Mike said as he felt his eyes welling up with tears.

  As if mentioning her name summoned her, and not using the call button, she appeared. "Ah, Mr. Baxter, it is so nice to see you awake." Jillian began talking to Johnny whose eyes never left Mike's. "Now, please don't try to move yet. You have been with us the ICU for the last eleven days."

  Mike listened to Jillian as she talked to Johnny and took a fresh set of vitals. "I know you must be thirsty and that your mouth is dry but we need to remove your feeding tube before I can give you some water." Jillian paused and looked at Mike before continuing.

  "Mr. Morgan," Mike finally looked at the night nurse. "If you would wait outside while I remove the feeding tube, you may come back afterwards." When Mike made no move to leave the room, she added, "I am sure you would like to call your parents, as well." She gave Mike a smile and he looked back down at Johnny while giving his brother's hand another squeeze.

  "I'll be right outside, bro, and back in no time."

  Johnny mouthed 'okay' and Mike left the room. He already had his phone open, and hit the Baxters home number the moment he stepped into the visitor's lounge.

  "Hello," Mr. B.'s sleep filled voice answered on the second ring.

  "He's awake!" Mike said and reminded him self to keep his voice down.

  "Mike?" Mr. B. Sounded more awake now and Mike could hear Mrs. B. in the background.

  "He just woke up. Jillian, ahh, the night nurse is in with him now." Mike heard Mr. B. relaying the good news to Mrs. B. and thought he heard her start crying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he had never seen nor heard his adoptive mother cry before.

  "Thank the Lord," Mr. B said when he came back on the line. "We will see you first thing in the morning, son." Mr. B. sounded as if he was beginning to tear up as well when Mike said go
od night and hung up.

  Mike stood outside the ICU 4 and impatiently waited for Jillian to finish with his brother. He did not have to wait long, though it felt like forever, before she stepped into the hall next to him.

  "A word, Mr. Morgan?" Jillian said and angled her head toward the nurse's station.

  Mike stomach took a nosedive and he instantly felt ill. Was something wrong? Did Johnny lapse back into a coma? He knew all of the color had drained from his face and Jillian immediately noticed.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan. Mr. Baxter is fine. I did not mean to worry you." Jillian laid a hand on Mike's arm and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I wanted to speak with you to remind you that your brother will need his rest and now that he is awake, I don't want you to tire him out."

  "You've got to be kidding," Mike replied but was sure she was not. "He's been resting for almost 2 weeks. I doubt he will want to go back to sleep anytime soon."

  Jillian's gaze said she understood but she continued. "Mr. Morgan, your brother has been in a coma. His body has been healing itself. We know from brain waves that this is not like when we are asleep. I just wanted you to be aware that he may be tired and you should not tire him out any further."

  "Okay, I won't," Mike told her. He would tell her whatever she wanted to hear if it would get him back to Johnny sooner.

  "Alright. Now go see your brother. I know he wants to see you." Jillian smiled at him.

  Mike gave her a smile of his own before he high tailed it back to Johnny's room. Jillian had raised Johnny's bed up slightly higher and had removed the feeding tube that had been up his nose. The bedside table was pushed over and on it were a plastic pitcher and a plastic cup with a bendy straw. Mike couldn't move fast enough to get back to the chair by Johnny's bed. The whole time, those sky-blue eyes tracked his movements but neither man spoke. They just stared at each other like they used to do when they were boys and had staring contests. Mike felt odd taking his best friend's hand again so instead he rested his hands in his lap.