It's Who You Know Ch. 06

The car stopped. I took a moment to realise. All my weight was on my head and shoulders. I couldn't breathe. I fumbled to undo my seatbelt, collapsing awkwardly, trying to free my windpipe from being crushed. Glass was cutting into me.

Tyler. No.

He was sprawled across the car ceiling, unmoving. There was so much blood.

No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

My body was like rubber. I couldn't breathe. I could hardly move. I had to fight this, I had to do something. I gasped, trying to suck in lungfuls of air. My hands fumbled around Tyler's head, trying to find his neck.

I couldn't find a pulse.

Please. Please. Tyler, please.

His face was so still, like he was sleeping. More still than sleeping. There wasn't blood when sleeping.

You can't die, Tyler. Please.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I felt like the insides of the car were closing in on me, crushing me.

His chest was moving. He was breathing. He was alive.

I didn't know how broken his body was, but I had to get him out. Something was pumping into my veins, forcing me to be calm. If whatever I did now was going to save his life, I needed to do it right.

I kicked out the shattered remains of the windscreen. More glass cut into me, I didn't care. A large chunk was jutting out of my cheek, below my right eye. I could see it in my vision. When I touched it I only felt searing pain in my whole face, like I was bending my cheekbone.

I pulled Tyler's body against mine, started to drag him out. Scrambling to fit beneath the car's crumpled bonnet, crawling across grass and damp earth. Was he always this heavy? Was I breathing? I was aching and hurting so much. My hand couldn't grip. My arm was giving out. I was collapsing every time I put my weight on it.

When I had space to stand I could only carry him so far. I stumbled to my knees, laid him out flat in the dark. Why was there so much blood? My clothes were sticking to me. He hadn't worn a black shirt today. Breathe.

Breathe.

A voice was calling to me. I looked up. Some lad and his girlfriend, running across the grass towards us. People who had seen the crash. My brain couldn't process what they were saying.

The lad crouched down to check Tyler's pulse. The girl was calling on her phone.

I looked up towards the road, saw the second crash of the men who had hit us. A body just laying in the open. More cars that had piled up, caught up in it. So many flashing lights. Growling engines. Slamming doors as people were pulling over, getting out. Trying to see what the fuck was going on.

There were already sirens in the distance.

I felt like I was going to vomit. I passed out slowly - I thought I was dying. At first I couldn't move. My vision went black, but I could still hear things. Then everything... stopped.

---

Tyler

I woke up in the middle of an operation.

It was like one of those crazy nightmares.

I was covered in sheets, and the only bit of me I could see, just above my left hip, was cut open.

I couldn't really move. I lifted my head slightly, blinking, trying to talk. There were tubes down my throat. Masked faces snapped around to me in alarm, hands pushed me down. Then something happened to knock me out.

---

Darren

"You fucking idiot," Jackson said. "The one time, the one fucking time, and you have your phone off."

I wasn't supposed to have visitors yet, but he'd worked his way in, as usual. I was still in a hospital bed, stitches in three places - my face, my left arm, my left leg. I'd had glass pulled out of me, and my right arm was in a sling from strained tendons. I was bruised and battered, but relatively unscathed, considering the extent of the crash.

How fucking familiar. Apparently I had all the luck in my family.

I was learning the full extent of the chaos that happened that night. Jackson had been to my house and seen no-one was in. My phone was off. So was Tyler's. He panicked and called up Zack.

Zack had gone straight with him to find me. Apparently the restaurant was the first place he thought to check. They had been on their way the whole time. If Tyler and I had managed to stagger those men maybe five more minutes, they would have arrived.

And then what? A bigger fight where both Zack and Jackson had been stabbed and shot?

They had arrived at the site of the crash while Tyler and I were being hauled into ambulances.

"This is a mess," Jackson continued. He leant both arms on the bed and glared at me. "Tyler killed a man."

I swallowed.

"And if you want to count the crash, he killed a second one."

"They hit us."

"Manslaughter is manslaughter."

"You have to get him out of this. I don't care how much money you want. I'll pay it. Jump through whatever hoops, do whatever you have to do. Clean his slate."

"There's too many witnesses. It'll be going through court, whatever I do."

"Jackson. I will sell everything and shut down my company to clean his slate."

He stared at me for a long moment. "Let's see if he even wakes up first."

My stomach twisted. I was so angry, but too exhausted to feel it. I was grateful to have my life, but it seemed to mean nothing if Tyler couldn't keep his.

"Jackson, how long did you know they were tracking me?"

He didn't reply. This was what made me so angry. He couldn't blame us for fucking up if he had been fucking up too.

I growled at him. "Tell me."

"Two days."

"And you didn't think to say anything earlier?"

"I was on their tail and I was dealing with them."

"Those first men, the fight at my complex. That was related. You knew?"

"I found out after I'd already told you it was no worry. I didn't want to go back on my word."

"Jackson."

"For fuck sake, how would you have reacted if I told you? You'd have panicked like a school girl and been straight on a plane to New Zealand."

"You're supposed to tell me if my life is in danger."

"And you were supposed to be living safe. What happened to that?"

"You said a few weeks. It'd been a few damn weeks."

"You're to keep doing whatever I tell you, until I tell you otherwise." He glared at me again. "You're living the high life, enjoying yourself, because I'm always down in the dirt, trudging through this shit, doing what I can to keep you safe. For fuck sake, Darren. When I tell you to do something, you do it."

There was a silence and I stared across the room. "I'm sorry."

His voice quietened. "Do you know how horrific it is to have to listen down the phone, to something like that? Someone you care about is going through something like that, and you can't do shit, but listen?"

It stunned me. I wanted to look around but I couldn't tear my eyes off the wall. "I thought you're not supposed to get attached to clients."

"It's hard not to get attached when I've been working with you for so long. When my entire career is centered around protecting you and your family, how do you think that makes me feel?"

I didn't know what to say.

"You're a naive rich boy, but you were a good kid back then, and you're still a good man now. Your head's always been screwed on better than normal. Probably because being gay ruined your privilege and you had to taste the grit like the rest of us."

"I honestly thought you hated me."

"I do, kinda. But it doesn't mean I don't care." I looked around and he was smirking. "If you ran out of money I think I'd still be here, collecting 'I-owe-you' slips."

"... Thanks."

"Not that I'm complaining about the money. It's gone to a lot of good things. Both my kids are going through uni and they've always had great summer holidays with their mum."

I was getting emotional and trying to hold it in. He squeezed my knee beneath the blanket.

"You need to get better," he said. "I'm gonna go see what I can find out about Tyler. Wave this badge around and see if anyone will tell me something." He turned and headed for the door.

"Jackson."

"What?"

"Your kids are really lucky to have you." I wanted to tell him what a hero, what an incredible man I thought he was. I couldn't shape the sentence.

He smiled. "Darren. You know your uncle loves you, he's just shit at showing it?"

I stared at the blanket. "I know."

*

They put Tyler into a medically induced coma. He had some severe head injuries and they were monitoring him carefully.

He'd been through everything in one night. Stab wounds, gunshot wounds, a car crash. The things his body could endure were remarkable. Apparently he had come awake during surgery to remove a bullet from his kidney and scared everyone shitless. They still might have to take out that kidney if it didn't heal well.

I knew these things because Jackson managed to get friendly with his doctor, casually chatting away, and he fed everything back to me. I would never understand how he did it, but I couldn't complain. Perhaps it was because the doctor was a woman.

Amelia, Zack, and myself, were finally able to go in and see Tyler after a couple days of me walking free. He was still unconscious and hooked up to a machine, but to see his breathing body was a relief. His hand was warm.

We went back out to the waiting room, to make room for his family. The three of them were already there. A young woman leapt to her feet, accosting Zack in instant recognition. She threw her arms around his middle and hugged him.

"Is he awake?" she asked.

"No, not yet."

Her dark brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail, almost on the top of her head, which honestly just reminded me of a palm tree. She had big hoops for earrings, and she wore a little too much makeup. She turned to me and frowned.

"Oh my God, you must be his boyfriend. You're like, cute." She gave my hand a vigorous shake. "Dad, Ty's got, like, a cuter boyfriend than me."

"Probably something to do with your face," the man gruffly replied.

Zack was clasping his brow and grinning as the three filed into the room. They were in there maybe five minutes before coming out again. His sister's ignorant attitude was gone. She was solemn. She came over and hugged me, and I didn't really know what to do about it.

"You were in the crash too?" she asked, staring at the stitches on my face.

"Yes."

She hugged me again, hair of her ponytail tickling my nose. I received a smirk and shrug from Zack.

"When does he wake up?" Tyler's mother asked.

"I don't know," Zack replied.

"I'm gonna ask," his father said, marching off. "All this way just to see him fuckin' sleeping."

We ended up sitting somewhere else, waiting to see Tyler's doctor. His family was very friendly with Zack, which didn't surprise me, and his sister was starting to hit it off with Amelia, suddenly gasping out loud from their chatter.

"Oh my God! Innit though?"

His mother came to sit next to me, a hand on my knee, giving me this strange look which was both affectionate and suspicious. "So you are a gay man?"

"Yes."

Nicole gasped again. "Oh my God. Mum, you are so rude!"

His father grunted. "Is Tyler gay now?"

"No," Nicole said, rolling her eyes. "He's bi."

"But he's with a man."

"Yeah," she drawled. "And you know what being bi means? Like, he likes men."

"So he's gay?"

"Oh my God. You're stupid, Dad."

"I just want to know what he is!"

"He's bi!"

*

They took him out of the coma about four days later. I was told that everything with his brain seemed okay, but they could see the full extent of things once he woke up.

I didn't leave the hospital. I wanted to be there when he came to. I spent that night with my arms crossed on the bed, head down, the slightest noises always jarring me awake. I ate from the cafe on the ground floor.

They said it could take two or three days for him to wake up. Maybe even a week.

A week? No, this was Tyler. He came to after a day.

A hand was clumsily touching my head. "Hey. Hey. Wake up."

I looked up into his drowsy eyes. He could talk. That was good. No brain damage so far.

"You have to tell Zack that it's okay," he said.

He was a bit delirious. There wasn't really much going on behind his eyes. It was like he was sleep talking, this blank gaze with random words.

"I'll tell him," I replied.

"Yeah. It wasn't his fault." He blinked, then frowned. "You have to tell Zack that it's okay."

"He knows, Ty."

"Okay, good." He touched my face. "You're really beautiful."

I smiled. "So are you."

"You know me, yeah? I had this dream that you hit your head and didn't remember me anymore."

"I could never forget you."

He grinned, and fidgeted. "Can I, like... Where's the bathroom? I need to piss."

"They got you all wired up. You can just go."

"What, like I got a tube in my dick?"

"Yeah."

"Holy shit. Will that hurt if I get a boner? You always give me boners."

I chuckled and he grinned more, but then frowned, and tried to fidget again. His head turned on the pillow. He bucked and growled.

"What's wrong with me?"

"They drugged you to sleep."

"Am I supposed to be awake?"

"It's wearing off at the moment. You should probably sleep more."

"Okay. You'll stay, yeah?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled and rested back against the pillow. Then he was gone again.

The second time he woke up was a bit more violent. He started thrashing around, gasping, then bolted up and nearly made it out the side of the bed before I grabbed him. A nurse from the corridor came rushing in at the noise. I had to wrestle him down while he looked at me with these dark eyes, like he was going to kill me. The moment he gripped the nape of my neck it faded. He was bewildered. I wondered what was going through his mind, what parts he was remembering.

He was staring at me as if he couldn't believe I was real. Then he kissed me. The nurse tutted and told him to get back into bed, and told me she was going to find his doctor.

He propped up against the pillows, and just sat there in silence for a bit. I stroked my fingers over his knuckles, turned his hand over and stroked his palm. He stared at the movement, then his eyes flicked up to my face.

"Is my car fucked?"

"Yeah."

He rubbed his eyelids, face screwing up like everything was a nightmare. "This is all real?"

"Yeah. You... You did some really stupid stuff to protect me."

"Of course I did." He looked hurt. "I love you."

"I love you too."

His hand cupped my cheek, thumb stroking the dented scar from the glass. "What's happening? Are you safe?"

"Jackson's doing his job. Everything is fine."

"How long has it been?"

"Bit over a week."

"When can I go home?"

"I don't know."

I leant over him and our lips met. He smelt so familiar compared to all these sterilized surroundings, it flooded me and soothed me. It was a passionate kiss, heavy and deep and honestly perfect. Making out on a hospital bed, that was something new. Thank fucking God he was alive. I held him tight and didn't want to let go.

I had to as the door opened and the doctor came in. "Mister Andrews," she said, walking around to the bed. "You are a very, very lucky man."

"I know," he replied, with a mischievous lip curl. "Have you seen my boyfriend?"

She sighed and gave him a look. "Your injuries, or lack thereof. The state of your recovery."

"Can you tell me what the hell you've been doing to me? I woke up and I was being cut open. Or was that a dream?"

"No, that was real."

I had to act like everything she was about to explain was news to me, too. Or Jackson would get in trouble.

---

Tyler

Being in hospital is boring. I could swear I was fine much quicker than they said, but they had to keep me in. To monitor me. I wanted to make my recovery at home.

Home. Darren's house. That was my home.

I don't think Darren ever left. He disappeared a few times and came back with fresh clothes, but he ate like shit and he slept like shit, constantly at my bedside. He got this thick full beard on his jaw, and so did I. We both looked pretty fucking awful, like we'd had 5 years slapped on, but we looked awful together.

The visits kept me going. Zack showed up shortly after 5pm like clockwork, every single day. One time he brought David, who climbed all over me and chattered away in his cute voice. The poor kid's brain was having to process a lot of violence recently. He'd seen Darren, Zack, and now me, all with various injuries. The world could be a bad place and he couldn't stay sheltered from it. He always got blunt and matter-of-factly answers.

Yes, Uncle Tyler nearly died. But it's all good because he's alive. He sat quietly for a minute, and I think he was trying to imagine what life would be like if I was gone. He burst into tears and hugged me tight and told me I shouldn't drive cars any more. He was also upset that the loud car was gone forever.

Shit, I was upset. I loved that car.

My family came a lot, too. Nicole was just as annoying as ever. She had to take a picture of me to upload on her Facebook - 'Ty totaled his car'. She pattered away on her screen while it blipped with messages. Hundreds of them. There seemed to be a lot of people in her contacts who cared about me.

She tried to take a picture of Darren, too, but he snapped and knocked the phone from her hand. Luckily it landed on the bed, but she stared at him in shock and he scowled back.

"Seriously, don't." He had a commanding tone when he wanted it. She didn't push it.

She was running a series of status updates every day from there, letting people know how it was going. I honestly felt like Jackson might have a fit about it, but hey, I wasn't the one being hunted by criminals, right?

Or maybe I was now.

I had killed a man. Shit. I tried not to think about it.

On the last couple of days when I was walking, Nicole made damn videos, trying to show the stitches and scars. It looked pretty ridiculous for a car crash, but nobody had to know that some of those were from bullets and knives. I saw one of the videos, and I have to admit, it was pretty funny. Me, barefoot, in nothing but a pair of grey tracksuits, walking down hospital corridors with a can of coke, drinking from a straw, swearing at her as she kept zooming in on my stomach, then my butt as I pushed past her. You could hear Darren's chuckling in the background, but never see him.

When I had a moment alone with Darren, he touched the marks with affectionate fingers. My old scar from a knife was hidden by the new line where they'd cut me open to get at my kidney. On the other side I sported a fresh new stab wound, and I think the slash on my shoulder was forever going to leave a mark, too.

His touch turned me on. He gave me that look. I'd been through a near-death experience and now I was high on life. I desperately wanted to get him somewhere private. Fucking hospital.

I was getting ready to leave a day later, and Nicole brought me my charged phone. I decided to check my own Facebook just for the hell of it, and it had exploded with messages, just as I thought. A few new friend requests, too. I looked through her pics and videos of me, then just kept scrolling through.

It was like I was going back in time. I had never really uploaded much to my own page, I was mostly tagged in other people's pictures of me. Me at parties, me at clubs, me looking drunk and stupid. People mostly snapped pictures of me at random moments, doing random things. I never really posed and actually looked at the camera, nobody could get me to stay still that long. But there was a string of very photogenic pictures, where a friend who wanted to be a photographer had used me as a model. Jesus Christ, that felt long ago.

I got younger and younger the further I went through. Pictures from shittier quality phones. Pictures from old times. There was the iconic one of Zack and I, when I was 19 or so. I had my arm around his neck and he had a handful of my hair. We looked mid-wrestle, but were both managing to look at the camera, and laughing. That had been 'the' photo back then. Christ. I had one of those cringeful mirror selfies in my profile pics, too - from Myspace days. Did I even have a speck of facial hair? Holy shit.