Brothers by Bond

by Brenda Cottern

  Chapter 2

  Off in the distance the phone was ringing and Mike cursed the asshole who wasn't answering. The annoying noise would not go away and instead, insisted on becoming louder. His anger at being woken up on his day off grew until he was finally awake enough to realize that he was the asshole who wasn't answering the annoying phone.

  Everything came back to him in a rush, the events of the last forty-eight hour slamming him into wakefulness. Shit, Johnny! Mike reached for his cell phone on his night table as a wave of nausea swirled through his gut. Please don't be a death call, he prayed as he answered without checking the caller I.D.

  "Morgan," he barely got out of his suddenly dry throat.

  "There have been no changes, son," Mr. B.'s steady voice came over the line. "I didn't want you to panic so I covered that first."

  "Thanks, Mr. B." Mike replied numbly as he turned to look at the clock in shock. He had slept for fourteen hours. Never before had he slept more than six and it used to drive Johnny crazy. Mike was always the early riser when all Johnny wanted to do was sleep the day away.

  "... pick you up and we can take care of that," Mr. B. was talking and pulled Mike's attention from the memories that were surfacing. "Son? Are you still there?"

  "Yeah," Mike replied and scrubbed his free hand over his face.

  "So, I'll see you in an hour?" Mr. B. asked.

  "I can be ready in twenty," Mike told his adoptive father.

  "Alright. See you then," Mr. B. said and hung up.

  Mike sat in the middle of his queen size bed and did nothing but let his guilt consume him for several moments. He knew he should have just come clean with Johnny but he couldn't risk losing his best friend. That would kill him as surely as a bullet to the head. Johnny knew every secret that Mike ever had and never betrayed him. But this was one secret he would just have to keep to himself. Somehow he would deal with it and make sure things got back to normal between them.

  Thinking of Johnny, reminded him of where he needed to be and spurred him into getting his ass out of bed. Ten minutes later, Mike was showered, shaved, and dressed. He could thank the Army for teaching him that.

  His foot had just stepped off the bottom stair when a knock landed on his front door. Mr. B., Punctual as ever. Mike opened the door and was greeted by Mr. B. holding two extra large cups from Dunkin' Donuts.

  "Figured you could use these," Mr. B. said as he handed over one of the cups. "I would've brought donuts to go along with but Sophie would smell them from a mile away."

  "Thanks," Mike accepted coffee and appreciated Mr. B.'s reference to Mrs. B. She had raised him and Johnny to eat healthy and the only sweet treats they indulged in were during the holidays. It was a habit that both he and his brother had brought into adulthood.

  "I think you boys must be the only cops who don't fit the stereotype." Mr. B. continued to try and draw him out of his silence, as if nothing was wrong.

  Mike knew it was just his way of dealing with the situation. He had seen Mr. B. act the same way when his parents died. Chatting about the mundane was his shield. Once in the car, Mike broke their mutual silence when he noticed they were not driving in the direction of the hospital.

  "Where are we going?" Mike practically growled as his anger spiked when he realized Mr. B. wasn't taking him directly to Johnny.

  "The precinct. They want your statement and then we will head to the hospital."

  "Fuck the precinct and fuck the statement. It can wait." Mike huffed and for once didn't care about his coarse language. "I need to be with Johnny."

  "I know, son, but the sooner you get this out of the way the better." Mr. B. tried to be the voice of reason. "You have any vacation time saved up?"

  Mike hadn't even thought that far ahead and realized that Mr. B. was right. After he gave his statement he would put in for his vacation or take a personal leave. How much PTO had he accrued? He had no idea and really didn't care. All he cared about was being by Johnny's side when he woke up because he refused to believe his best friend would remain in a coma forever.

  Silence settled over them again as they drove to the station. Once there, Mike made a beeline for the lieutenant's office. He vaguely heard Mr. B. updating the guys on Johnny's condition as he closed the lieutenant's door behind him.

  "You look like shit, Morgan, but I've been there myself." Lieutenant Collins opened his desk drawer to remove the paperwork as Mike sat down. "This won't take long and I won't keep you. I'm sure you want to get to the hospital to see Baxter."

  "Thanks, Lieutenant," Mike said as he took the pile of paperwork. The Lieutenant was a good guy as far as Mike was concerned. Hell, anyone who would allow brothers, even by adoption, to partner together had to be a good guy. Mike flipped through the standard paperwork before he started to fill it out. It was his habit and when he came to a leave request, with his PTO accrued attached to a Post-it, it just reaffirmed his opinion of the Lieutenant.

  Two hours later, which felt like a million years, Mike was back in Mr. B.'s car. Thirty minutes after that and he was standing in the doorway to ICU – 4.

  "The hip looks good but I am concerned how he will do with it. Usually, hip replacement patients are on their feet with assistance within the first twelve hours of surgery," the doctor who was speaking to Mrs. B. told her. "I will order a physical therapist to come in and make sure the replacement stays flexible. This will need to be approached slowly so we can give the graft to his femoral artery a chance to heal." The doctor paused before continuing, "As for the coma he is currently in, we are not sure what is causing it. All of the scans came back normal but we don't want you to be concerned. Sometimes when there has been trauma, such as Johnny's, the body goes comatose to heal itself. Do you have any questions Mrs. Baxter?"

  "Is he in any pain?" Mrs. B.'s voice was steady but her concern was evident.

  "I won't lie to you. It's very hard to tell what comatose patients can feel. We are giving him the prescribed dosages of pain medication for his hip replacement."

  "I just don't want him to be in pain," Mrs. B. said quietly and turned back to her son.

  "When will he wake up?" Mike asked from the door and both the doctor and Mrs. B. turned to him. "He will wake up right?"

  The doctor turned back to Mrs. B. as if to ask permission to answer. Mrs. B. nodded to the doctor before introducing them.

  "Doctor Bernstein, this is my other son, Michael. He is also Johnny's partner on the force."

  The doctor shook hands with Mike as he spoke, "I am so sorry to meet you under these circumstances. I'm sure this is a difficult time for you."

  Mike thought the doctor held his hand a little longer than was necessary but brushed the thought aside. "Yes, to say the least," Mike replied. "But you didn't answer my question." Mike knew he sounded harsh and was being rude to the man who was caring for his brother but he couldn't stand the sympathy that gazed out of the doctor's chocolate brown eyes.

  "Yes, of course," Doctor Bernstein resumed his professional tone. "We really do not know. He could wake up today, next week, or next year. It is up to Johnny now and all we can do is wait." Mike frowned at the answer that was not really an answer as he stepped into the room. "His vitals are stable and he is showing no signs of complications from either surgery." Doctor Bernstein made his way to the door and paused to add, "Talk to him while you visit. There are some who believe it helps the patient."

  Mike turned to the doctor, "Do you believe that?"

  Doctor Bernstein gave him a small smile and replied, "I believe it helps everyone." With those parting words, the doctor left ICU-4.

  "You look much better today, Mikey." Mrs. B. spoke as she straightened the covers over Johnny. "Have you eaten?" Leave it to Mrs. B. to make sure both of her boys were being taken care of.

  "I had something," Mike replied because in his book coffee was considered the first meal of the day.

  Mrs. B. turned and came to stand next to him at the foot of the bed. When she laid her hand upon his
arm, he trailed his eyes away from Johnny and looked down at her.

  "We will bring you something when we come back later." Mike opened his mouth to tell her not to bother but she cut him off before the first word slipped past his lips. "It won't do for you to fall ill as well. You need to take care of yourself for when Johnny wakes. He will need all of us to be strong while he recovers and if we are not, you know he will worry."

  She was right, Mike knew, so he nodded to appease her even though the thought of food made the coffee in his stomach lurch.

  "All right, Mrs. B.," Mike reassured her. "Now go and get some rest yourself. Johnny is in good hands with me."

  Mike leaned down and gave his adoptive mother a kiss on her cheek. It was then that he heard her soft words.

  "No better hands than yours. Always has been and always will be." She disengaged from their small embrace and left Mike to watch her leave as he wondered at what she had said.

  The chair he had occupied the day before had been moved closer to the head of Johnny's bed. He was sure this was so Mrs. B. could be closer to her son. As he sat down, he took his best friend's listless hand into his own and fought off another wave of guilt and tears. Mike could not imagine his life without Johnny. For two boys who had not known each other before the age of ten, they were as close, maybe closer, then brothers.

  He raised his eyes to Johnny's face, a face he knew as well, if not better then his own, and studied him. Mrs. B. was right the day before. Johnny did look peaceful. He even seemed to have more color in his beautiful face. Without giving any thought, Mike's hand raised and repeated the tender gesture, of brushing that stray blond lock from Johnny's forehead, which Mrs. B. had done the day before.

  How many nights have I lain across the room from him as a boy and watched him sleep without him knowing? Too many to count.

  It was not a boy who lay in the hospital bed next to him but Mike could not help comparing the man to his memory of the boy. Johnny still had long blonde lashes, that made most women jealous, and they rested gently upon his cheeks. His nose had the slightest bend from when it was broken in ninth grade but it did not distract from his beauty. His lips were neither thin nor pouty but looked just right above his strong chin and stubble covered jaw. Beautiful. That was the only way Mike could describe his brother. Not beautiful like a woman but he was a beautiful man.

  Mike's train of thought brought back his guilt for avoiding Johnny this past week. It was the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other and he knew Johnny had been worried about him. Mike thought that putting a little distance between himself and his best friend would clear his head and give him time to figure out what was wrong with him. He figured it out alright and now he felt worse than before. Still, how he felt did not matter. All that mattered was that Johnny would wake up.

  Mike leaned back in the chair, still holding Johnny's limp hand, and let out a sigh. It was then that he noticed the photo album on the bedside table. He recognized Mrs. B.'s hand made album as one similar to those she had given him and Johnny for Christmas last year. The three albums she had made had different fabric covers but included identical pictures in all of them and the pictures told the story of his friendship, his life, with Johnny. Mike never let go of Johnny's hand as he reached out to pick up the heavy album. For a long time he just sat there in the chair holding his past with Johnny in his lap and his present and future in Johnny's hand.

  Mr. B. came back sometime later carrying a plastic shopping bag. Mike knew what he would find in the bag even as he took it from Mr. B. but he looked anyway. Inside there were several sandwiches and food containers that Mike would bet held fruit and raw vegetables.

  "Thanks," Mike said and felt like that was the only word he had shared with Mr. B. over the last two days.

  "Sophia wanted to make sure you ate," Mr. B. nodded at the bag Mike had set on the floor by his chair.

  "She knew I wouldn't hit up the cafeteria, huh?" Mike replied and tried to smile but his face just wouldn't comply.

  "She knew," Mr. B. offered him a sad grin. "I am supposed to actually watch you eat something." Mike grimaced and Mr. B. continued. "But you're a man now, son you don't need me hanging over you to make sure you eat."

  Mike knew that this was Mr. B.'s own way of telling him he expected him to eat. Mr. B. took the second chair in the room and the men sat in silence, with the sounds of the medical equipment echoing around them. Mike had never had a problem finding the words for conversation with Mr. B. even though Mr. B. was a man of few words. There was just nothing to talk about while they stared at Johnny lying still as death on the hospital bed.

  "You found Sophie's album," Mr. B. broke the silence after a while.

  "Yeah," Mike replied. "So many memories." Please let us be able to make more, he silently added.

  "She took so much joy in making them for you boys. Worked on them for months and the whole time worried you boys wouldn't like them." Mr. B. shook his head with the memory.

  "How could we not?" Mike replied. "It's the best gift I have ever received and I'm sure Johnny feels the same. Half a lifetime of memories and all captured in an album." Mike looked down at the album in his lap. Mrs. B.'s album was covered in a floral fabric whereas his was striped and Johnny's was done in plaid. All three albums contain the same pictures, certificates, and awards in the same order. Aside from the fabric to cover them, they were identical in every way.

  "She brought it here this morning. I think she is planning on talking to him about the pictures to help him remember and come back to us. Sophie had that idea even before Dr. Bernstein mentioned it." Mike could hear the pride in Mr. B.'s voice that he held for his wife. "Maybe you should do the same."

  Mike didn't even realize he was nodding in agreement when he heard Mr. B.'s stand. "I'm going to fetch Sophie and I'll take you home when I get back."

  "No need, Mr. B." Mike told his adoptive father. "I'm going to stay."

  "Now, Michael, you know they only allow one visitor at a time in the evenings. If you want to stay, you know Sophie will let you but she will just worry all the more."

  Mike realized he was being selfish and knew Mr. B. was right. He wouldn't deprive the woman who had given him so much the right to spend time with her son. Mike had been so focused on being at Johnny side when he awoke that he had given no thought to Johnny's actual parents. Shame decided to move in and keep guilt company in his heart.

  "You're right, Mr. B. I wasn't thinking," Mike hung his head. "I'll be ready when you get back with Mrs. B."

  "It's all right, son. We'll see you after awhile." Mr. B. gave his shoulder a squeeze before he left the room.

  Too soon, it seemed, the Baxters had returned and after a reminder from Mrs. B. to eat, he was taken home.

  Chapter 3

  Mike walked directly to his kitchen and dropped the bag of food from Mrs. B. Everywhere he looked, he saw Johnny. It was sort of funny, in an almost sad way, that his house was as much Johnny's as his own.

  When Mike had bought the house two years ago, Johnny called him crazy. Half of the walls were gone in the two-bedroom, two and a half bath home and the floors looked like they would be lucky to hold any weight, let alone that of the construction crew. Not to mention that the stairs were gone and they needed to use a ladder to reach the second floor. However, Mike could see the potential in the dilapidated home and for thirty grand, it was a steal.

  Two years later and the floors were solid, the weight-bearing walls replace, and he had stairs. His master bedroom and bath were done and he had a brand-new kitchen even if most of the walls acted like windows to view the other rooms.

  Mike made his way up to his bathroom, the only working one in the house, and couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips.

  "The only working bathroom just happens to be through your bedroom?" Johnny's voice floated through his head. "I guess that's one way to get the chicks up here."

  Not for long a long time now, bro, Mike mentally replied as he recalled
that day.

  "Holy shit man, you could put three linebackers in the shower! You planning on having orgies in there?" Johnny's voice in his head gave him shit about it again. "Just make sure I'm invited." Mike clearly remembered the wicked grin and wink his best friend gave him that day. But the days of sharing chicks with his brother were over. Mike could not trust himself not to do something stupid that he would regret for life.

  Mike pushed the thought away and found himself standing in front of his dresser. He squatted down and removed the striped photo album from under his sweats in the bottom drawer. Mike had buried the album there earlier in the year when he caught himself looking through it almost daily. Just holding the album in his hands, he knew he could remember every picture in vivid detail, if he tried.

  Please don't let this be all I have left at him. Mike hugged the album to his chest as he returned to the kitchen.

  He set the album down on the table as gently as if it were breakable and rummaged through the bag of food. Mike had no appetite but knew he had to eat. Two sandwiches and two beers later, Mike found himself staring at the first page in the album.

  The pictures were taken at Johnny's twelfth birthday party and brought back a mixture of emotions for him. Johnny's birthday was three months after the death of Mike's parents. He normally pushed aside any memories of the two people who contributed their DNA to make him but when he looked at these pictures, the memories surfaced.

  Three months before Johnny's birthday, Mike was spending the night at the Baxters again. He practically lived at the house across the street from his own and sometimes wondered as an adult, if his parents ever noticed he was gone. Both were alcoholics and all Mike could do when they got drunk and fought was curl himself up into a ball in a corner and hope they didn't turn their duel wrath on him. It was bad enough when one of them took out their anger on him and he always doubted he would survive if both of them directed it at him at the same time.