by Aiden Bates
It was getting to be too hard to forget that. Allen needed to keep his wits about him. He needed to remember who and where he was. Brantley wasn't making it easy. Every night, when he came over, he wrapped his arms around Allen and took care of him. And it was so good, so perfect, that Allen just had to give in.
Alaina hummed. She wasn't quite up to baby babble yet. She could hum. Eventually, it would be irritating. Right now, it was still adorable. She kicked her tiny feet, and waved her tiny hands, and said, "Mmmmm!" She managed to get her general meaning across, too, if not specifics. Allen could tell if she was annoyed by something, or happy, or upset.
Fortunately for Allen, and Brantley, and everyone else involved, Alaina was a generally happy baby. Most of her little sounds were happy sounds, like a cat's purr. He'd even started to call her his little kitty cat, which didn't bother her. She wasn't growing quite as fast as other babies her age, but she was a preemie. She would catch up, more or less.
Nurses came in and checked Dad's vitals. Dad roused himself, just a little, and then he fell asleep again. He was in a lot of pain. That only made sense. His heart had stopped. They'd had to start it again. He'd had a wire, with a balloon on the end, stuffed through a vein. Allen knew, in general, how that worked. He had no idea how it felt, but he didn't think it tickled.
Allen and Janine had talked about this. Dad hadn't ever not worked, not since he'd been fourteen and lied about his age to get a job. It had been a struggle. When times had been good, he'd had two jobs, so he could work weekends too. Then, he'd been laid off from his job at Allied Signal, and he'd gotten more hours at the Home Depot job to make up for it.
Dad, in all likelihood, had no idea that his career was now over. As Allen sat in his sunny hospital room and looked at his father, he wondered if his dad would be able to handle it.
Dad liked Brantley. Dad didn't have a lot to say, as a general rule, but he'd stated for the record that he liked Brantley. "He's a good kid," Dad had said, after they'd met. He'd taken the trouble to call Allen, too, which he only did if it was a life or death matter. "He works hard."
It was going to devastate Dad, when Bradley left.
Well, there wasn't anything to be done about it. Allen settled into his seat and kissed Alaina's forehead. Alaina giggled. "Mmmmm!" she said, and kicked her little feet.
The door opened again.
Allen wasn't expecting anyone, but he wasn't surprised to see Natalie Parris standing in the doorway. "Look," he said with a sigh. "I'm going to call my lawyer, and he's going to call your boss, and you're going to get yelled at a bit. Want to just cut out the middleman and just go away, maybe? You goaded my father into a heart attack. He's going to have to stop working now, because of you. You've ruined enough lives."
Parris closed the door behind her. "You brought it on them." She shrugged and took the other chair, dull orange and cheap plastic. "He'd be in perfect health if it weren't for you faking your relationship with Dr. Powell. When you look at your father stretched out in this hospital bed, does it feel good to know you did this to him?"
Allen's blood ran cold, but he fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled until he found Gupta's number. "Hi. Sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but Agent Parris is in my father's hospital room and refusing to leave. Awesome. Thanks."
He fumbled until he could hit record. "Mr. Gupta is on his way over. In the meantime, I'm not answering any questions until my attorney arrives. That means you're not allowed to ask me any questions. Also, you're being recorded."
"You don't get to record me." She scowled at him.
"The law says differently." Allen smiled blandly at her. "You're welcome to go away until Mr. Gupta arrives."
She curled her lip. "I don't need to ask you any questions to do what I came here to do. I've already pointed out that this is all your fault. If you'd done the right thing, if you'd walked away when Powell paid you to sell yourself to him, your father would be healthy right now."
An avalanche of angry retorts rolled to the edge of Allen's lips, but he held them back. He wasn't going to say anything that could be twisted into something incriminating. He couldn't. Besides, there wasn't any truth to her words. It had been wrong for Gottlieb and Parris to go after his family, and he hadn't sold himself to anyone anyway.
That didn't mean her words didn't stab.
"Was it worth it?" She drummed her fingertips against Dad's bedside table. "Was whatever he paid you worth destroying your entire family? Because they are destroyed. Look what it's doing to your dad. Look what it's doing to your mom. Look what it's doing to your sister, her kids. But no, you didn't care. You had to get paid, isn't that right?"
Allen's stomach turned. He'd had a few moments of nausea, nothing serious, but Parris was demonstrating an unusual skill. "If law enforcement doesn't work out for you, you can always try a second career as an emetic."
"Cute." Her eyes lit up, and Allen knew he shouldn't have responded at all. "What I want to know is why you felt the need to do it at all. I mean, why would you feel compelled to go to all that trouble to sell yourself to an illegal alien when there are plenty of johns right here at home? Could you just not find American dick?"
A nurse walked into the room just then, a tiny paper cup of pills in her hand. "Excuse me?" she said, face darkening with outrage. "I know you didn't just accuse one of our senior nurse practitioners of turning tricks, in his father's sick room. What's your badge number? Who is your supervisor? Are you even a real officer?" She stuck her head out into the hallway. "Security! Someone call security to 467 E."
An alarm went off, and Allen knew that the nurse's demand had been taken seriously. Parris jumped to her feet. "Lady, you just interfered in a federal investigation."
"If you don't have a warrant you're not investigating squat. My brother's a cop. Now get off my floor before I call him and six of his friends to gently escort you from the premises." The nurse pointed to the exit.
Parris pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes for a moment. Then she left the room.
The nurse, whose ID gave her name as Jenny Parzych, turned to Allen. "Are you okay? What the hell was she doing coming in here in body armor, anyway?"
Allen had to laugh. He just had to. He couldn't help himself. All of the frustration and anger of the past few days bubbled up inside him and poured out in side-shaking laughter. "She's just like that," he explained, as he caught his breath. "She just… wears that vest. All the time. I've never seen her out of it."
"Doesn't it smell?" Parzych scratched at her brown hair. "Oh well. Not my circus, not my monkeys, as they say." She turned to Allen's dad. "Well, Mr. Frye? You going to stop playing possum now?"
Allen froze. Had his father heard all that?
Dad's eyes fluttered open. "The devil take that infernal woman," he muttered, and pushed the button to raise the top of his bed. "Where does she get off, anyway?"
Allen hit stop on his recording. "So. You did hear all of that."
"I think they heard all of that on the Moon, son. That woman's a nasty piece of work." He rubbed at his chest. "Someday she'll be old. And I hope she has a heart attack. And I'll be there to stand and laugh."
Allen rubbed at his face. "I'm sorry, Dad. She's not right about all of that, but she did show up on your doorstep because of me and Brantley."
"I know you're a better scientist than that." Dad closed his eyes. "Heart attacks don't work that way. It was already brewing. Sure, that kind of acute stress will push it along. If it hadn't been her, it would have been one of those screaming, red-faced men who can't find a part that's right in front of 'em." He lifted a hand for a moment and let it fall to the bed. "You just worry about yourself, and that young man of yours."
Allen took his father's hand, and tried to ignore Alaina playing with his lips. "He's a good guy, Dad."
"Don't I know it?"
Parzych inserted herself. "I didn't come in here for my health, I'm afraid. I came in because it's time for your pills, Mr. Frye." She handed
him the tiny white cup. "Drink up."
As Dad knocked back the pills like a shot, Parzych poured him a cup of ice water. Allen ducked his head and tried to fight down his sense of shame.
Gupta showed up ten minutes later, with Brantley in tow. Dad insisted he would be fine alone in his room for a few minutes, "seeing as how I'm a grown adult and all," so Allen followed Gupta and Brantley down to Brantley's office.
Once he was there, and Alaina was safely in Brantley's arms, he could relax. He slumped into a chair with his whole body, until it felt like his knuckles must be dragging on the carpet, and played the recording without a word of explanation.
Brantley shuddered away from the recording. "That's terrible." He scowled. "I shouldn't… I shouldn't let her say those things about my boyfriend. I'm pretty angry about that, in fact."
"We'll get her in the courtroom, Brantley." Gupta held up a hand. "You did well, Allen. Except for the part where you told her she was an emetic."
"Well she is. They could rent her out at Poison Control." Allen let his head fall back until it hit the top of the chair. "Why would they think it's okay to hound someone's father into a heart attack like that? I don't understand that. I just don't. It's evil, pure and simple."
"It is." Gupta shrugged. "Nevertheless, it's what they've done. All we can do is plan going forward. They've been told it's not acceptable, but they do it anyway. Why do you think that is?"
"Because they can." Allen stared straight ahead.
"Because they're desperate." Brantley sat up a little straighter.
"That means we're winning. Gupta squatted down until he met Allen's eyes. "I know it probably doesn't seem like it, but we are winning. Every time they do something like this, it proves they can't operate by normal means. By legal means. It proves you're right. I am working hard to get them fired, in addition to getting the case against Brantley thrown out.
"It's terrible, for you to have to go through this. The thing to remember is if they're doing it to you, they're doing it to other people. You have to keep going. You have to keep fighting."
Allen closed his eyes. Every muscle in his body screamed that he'd gone far enough, fought hard enough. He hadn't. He knew he hadn't. Brantley was still in danger, and everyone deserved to live in safety. And these people had targeted Allen's family. He had to see this through. "I know." He picked his head up and opened his eyes. "I know. We can do it. I'm still in, still on board. I'm just tired. I think a lot of what's going on is catching up to me. But the harder we fight, the sooner it'll be over. Right?" He forced himself to sit up and smile a little more brightly.
Gupta's answering grin was a little less bright, but it still existed. He took Allen's phone to send the recording to himself, and then left. Brantley silently placed his hands on Allen’s shoulders and massaged them. Allen wasn’t about to send him away. He needed that comfort right now.
***
Allen's father went home after three days on the telemetry floor. Brantley wasn't so sure that was the wisest choice, but he wasn't a cardiologist. He wasn't about to second-guess people who were.
He and Allen had an extra day of family leave, the day after Jeff went home from the hospital. Janine was staying home with the kids, so it was literally just Allen, Brantley, and Alaina. Isabel had recovered all of her aplomb and had returned to her usual confident, tip-top self. She was fine to coordinate home care service for Jeff until he would be okay to be on his own. The primary crisis was over.
That gave the trio a day to recover before they had to go back to work. Even Brantley was starting to feel the effects. Taking care of three small children wasn't as easy as it sounded. He made a mental note to give Alicia a bonus the next time he saw her. For now, though, he and Allen would take the day to spend in bed, cuddling Alaina, playing with Sadie, and napping.
Brantley was definitely worried about Allen. He exchanged vaguely worded emails with Dr. Idoni about it, because he didn't trust ICE not to have tapped his communications, and urged him to check in with Allen. Allen's exhaustion had only increased, not that Brantley could blame him for it. He was busy trying to be all things to all people, once again, and he needed to take better care of himself.
Idoni said he'd talk to him. Brantley tried to talk to Allen too, but he didn't get very far. He did get to hold Allen close, which was more than Carter got to do. He didn't know if it helped Allen, but he knew it helped him.
They went out for dinner that Tuesday night. Brantley should have insisted they stay in and cook, if only to make sure Allen got some decent nutrition, but he didn't have the heart. They headed out to a local Thai place and Brantley just decided to hope for the best.
They'd just settled in and gotten their food when a shadow fell across their table. Brantley looked up. He recognized the hurt and outraged face of the man looming over them immediately. Dwayne Millcomb was a teacher at a charter school on Syracuse's West Side. He was brilliant, dedicated, and sweet. He was handsome, too, with blue-black skin and chiseled features that had once graced magazine covers to pay his way through college.
"Really, Brantley?" Tears roughened Dwayne's voice, and he gestured toward Allen. "I tried for months to get you to take me out to dinner in public, just once. Once! And here you are, with… with him." He waved his hand from the top of Allen's head toward the floor.
Allen pressed his lips together, but didn't say anything nasty. He would have been within his rights to. Brantley would have. Instead, he gestured to the empty seat beside Brantley. "Why don't you have a seat?" He pulled Alaina's high chair toward himself, to give more room. "We haven't been introduced, but I'd love to meet some of Brantley's friends."
He let himself linger just long enough over the word "friends" to show he knew what their relationship had been. Well, Dwayne hadn't been subtle. "Allen, this is Dwayne Millcomb. I think he's been Teacher of the Year three times in the City schools. Dwayne, this is Allen. And this is Alaina."
"That can’t be your baby." Dwayne took the proffered seat, but he glowered at Alaina like she'd personally offended him. "What is going on?"
Brantley could accept Dwayne's anger and resentment toward him. It was justified. He could understand Dwayne's resentment toward Allen, even if he couldn't understand the circumstances. But Dwayne was old enough, and educated enough, to know better than to take out his anger on an innocent baby.
Before Brantley could spring to Alaina's defense, though, Allen gave Dwayne a thin, professional smile. "She's not his baby. I'm a nurse practitioner in the obstetrics department over at Silver Oak. I'm also a certified nurse midwife. I delivered Alaina from a woman who was suffering from addiction. She died just afterward, and I'm fostering Alaina until her bio family can be found. Failing that, I do plan to adopt her."
Dwayne's face fell. "Really?"
"Mmm-hmm. She's a sweetie. And she's a fighter. We didn't think she'd make it either, but here she is." He held out his finger, and Alaina took it. "She's not a big fan of conflict, though. She tends to get upset with raised voices. And then everyone gets upset." He met Dwayne's eyes. "She's fine when we show our feelings, but people shouting tends to upset her."
"I get it." Dwayne rubbed at his face. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should go. I was just surprised, you know?"
Brantley bowed his head. "Look. Dwayne, please don't go. It's complicated."
"How complicated can it be?" Dwayne shook his head.
Allen cleared his throat. "Can I?" He looked over at Brantley.
Brantley sighed. What was shame anymore, or fear? Either way, something bad was about to happen. "Go for it."
"Look." Allen turned back to Dwayne. "I don't want to make assumptions, but based on what you said when you first got to the table, I'm guessing that one of the reasons the two of you broke up was Brantley's… issues… with being public about your relationship. Am I right?"
Dwayne looked down at the table. He frowned. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "You know what? That's a good way of putting it. I had 'issues' with that.
Sure."
"Okay." Allen gave his "bedside manner" smile again. Brantley watched, only able to breathe shallowly, as his fake boyfriend spoke to his ex.
"I had a few issues around that when we first got together, too," Allen explained. "It was only a few months ago, right? A colleague at the hospital fixed us up on a blind date. He didn't go out looking for this." He gestured at himself, from the top of his head to the floor.
Dwayne had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, man."
"Hey. It's okay. Anyway, I knew what I was getting into, but I don't think I'd completely wrapped my head around it. What did I really know about what it's like for guys like us in Jamaica, right?" He chuckled a little. "Well, then ICE started making noise about his asylum status. They didn't believe he was gay."
