I stood in the doorway, silently watching Clark.

He sat in the wheel chair that he had been bound to for the past two months since he came out of hospital.

It was the same as every other day. He sat there, staring out the side window of the lounge room of our small one bedroom home.

I never understood why he just stared out that window. There was nothing there to see. Just the brick wall of our neighbours house.

He’d been in hospital for almost six months. After the accident that had now left him without the use of both legs.

When I had brought him home two months ago, he was determined to make things work. Despite the doctors telling him that he’d never walk against, I’d come home countless times to find him sprawled out on the floor, after having tried to walk again.

I turned away from the lounge room. There was nothing that I could do or say that would lift him from the depression that he had sunk into after he finally realised that his legs would never work again. He didn’t even have feeling in either of them.

“Mark.”

His voice croaked softly from the other room.

I stopped, glancing over my shoulder. He hadn’t turned around. He still sat there staring out the window.

“I know you’re there Mark. I heard you come home.”

His voice was barley even a whisper, but it was enough for me to turn around.

I stepped back into the lounge room, crossing the room the stand beside him. Resting one hand on one of the handles on the back of the wheel chair.

I wanted to touch him. I longed to touch him. To feel him beneath my hands. Just to know that he was still there. That he was real. That he hadn’t completely faded away.

But I couldn’t bring my self to. It was like I didn’t know how to touch him anymore. Maybe I didn’t want to know he was real. Because then every thing would be real. The accident. The hospital. The wheel chair. It wouldn’t just be a dream.

His hand twitched slightly, finger flickering, beckoning me around in front of him.

I moved to crouch in front of him, resting my hands gently on his knees. He was real. It wasn’t just a bad dream. There was no denying it now. But all the same, I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him.

I didn’t want to see his eyes. They were too hollow now. All the sadness, anger and depression that had built up over the past eight months, leaving his eyes hollow and empty.

They weren’t the shining, bright, happy blue eyes that he once had. The blue had even almost faded away now. Leaving a greyish hollowness.

“Look at me, Mark. Please, look at me.”

I could hear his voice choking with sobs, and I knew that there would be tears running down his cheeks. But I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“Can’t you bear to look at me any more? Can’t you love me like this?”

I could feel tears prickling my own eyes. Slowly I lifted my gaze up to meet his.

Clark’s eyes were bloodshot behind his frameless glasses. Tears stained his cheeks, trickling down to hang on his chin. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the slightest glint of silver the only hint of the bracers hidden beneath his top lip.

The sight of him before me, looking so helpless and lost, reminded me of just how young he was. Five years younger than me, at only eighteen.

He’d only just been out of school two weeks when the accident happened.

I reached out, taking his hands in mine, bringing them towards me. Kissing the tips of his fingers, then up his fingers to the palm of one hand.

“Don’t talk like that. Babe. I love you. I told you I loved you, for the first time two years ago, and it hasn’t changed. I still love you.”

Squeezing his hands gently, I rocked forward onto my knees. Taking both his hands into one of mine, I reached up my other hand to wipe away the tears that were suspended from his chin.

Letting them trickle down my fingers, I touched the palm of my hand to his cheek.

“I’m not going to stop loving you now. I can’t bear the thought of you being alone right now.”

His eyes closed, tears hanging on his eye lashes. Drawing in a deep breath, he leant into my hand.

“But look at me. I’m useless. I can’t do anything any more. I can’t walk. Ican’t play any sports. I can’t ride motor bikes anymore. My life is gone. I can’t even shower myself, or get into bed by my self.”

Gripping his hands tighter, I fought off my own tears.

“You’re not useless. Don’t ever believe that. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that.”

Clark shook his head, turning away from me.

“But it’s what I am. Dad told me that I was. He said I was nothing but a useless faggot.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I knew that wasn’t all Clark’s father had said. I knew all too well what he thought of Clark, of my, and of our relationship. He made it all to clear when he had plainly stated one day while Clark was in hospital that he wouldn’t have his son home until he straightened himself out.

Letting go of his hands, I cupped his face with both of mine, turning his eyes back to me. Stretching up, I kissed him lightly, then again, before settling back onto my feet.

“Don’t listen to that homophobic bastard. He doesn’t deserve to have a son if he can’t support you. There is nothing wrong with you, Clark. I love you. I loved you before, and I still love you now. It isn’t going to change.”

He nodded slowly, dropping his gaze down to his hands. Drawing in a ragged breath, he let it back out slowly. Finally he looked back up at me, fresh tears streaming down his face. Holding his arms out, he let out a strangled sob.

Taking him into my arms, I carefully slid him out of his wheelchair and down onto my lap. Rocking him gently, I kissed his face, his hair and his neck, trying to calm him down.

Burying his face into my chest, his hands grasping desperately at my shirt, he cried, letting out what had built up over the past eight months.

“Why did this have to happen? Mark? Why me? Why now?”

I couldn’t even begin to answer his questions, so I just held him tighter, kissing him hard, hoping that it would do something to help.

“It’s no fair. I don’t so much care that I can’t walk anymore. But it’s just not fair. I have become such a burden on you.”

Clark sobbed, moving so he was looking up at me, his eyes pleading for something.

I shook my head slowly, kissing him again gently.

“You are not a burden. You never have been, and never will be. I love you to much for you to be a burden. It’s not that bad. You’ll get used to it al in time. It won’t be so hard.”

His eyes closed then, and he tucked his face back into my chest. Sobbing again, his hands clawed at my shirt, trying to get a better grip.

“It won’t get better. I can’t ever feel you any more. Mark I don’t feel you. I can’t fel you. I know your there, but I can’t feel it.”

I let my own tears go then. I knew what he meant. I hadn’t ever thought about it like that. I hadn’t realised just how bad it was for him.

“Just know that I still love you. Clark. I promise that I will always love you.”

Looking back up at me then, he gave a weak smile through his tears. Before whispering a soft reply.

“I know.”

The End

o-o-o-o-o

Author’s Note: This story is one that I wrote for a dear friend of mine. He knows who he is. This is what I owed him for the poem he wrote for me.  I still love the poem. You can check it out. It’s called Nikki, by justaguy. Should take a look at it. It’s really good.

Saral