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Roman had always a certain fatal flaw – over-confidence. To make matters worse, sometimes he loses track of things and he was still barely past the age where he “should know better”.
The gym crew all knew this.
Janus warned him not to go to the gym or really anywhere to workout in the record-breaking heatwave the city was in the middle of. Patton tried to encourage him to just settle with the famILY for a movie night, away from the heat island most of them lived on, with at least some decent air-conditioning. Remus AND Logan knew that everyone firing off their A/C units at full blast may overdraw the power grid. Virgil took one step outside and went, “Yeah, nope.”
Hell, the regular gym they all went to was closed. So, he decided to find what was probably the only gym open in the entire city. Someplace calling itself “Daedalus Fitness Inc.”
It was a new business, clearly desperate for membership fees. Janus even told Roman that that place chose the worst time to establish itself. Logan agreed, it wouldn’t likely survive this weather event.
Roman didn’t heed any of these chances to turn back.
The final warning was when Roman vaguely overhead the manager on a phone. They said something about the air-conditioning. He didn’t quite catch what it was before popping in his earbud.
-
He felt the heat sap energy out of him, swifter than he expected.
His numbers were a lot lower than he wanted them to be. He told himself, “Just a little more…”
There was only so much those bottles of water he actually remembered to take could do.
A tiny part of him worried about this situation. That came too late, once he started to feel like something was very wrong, more than the last time he-
Roman felt the worst headache ever coming on. His heart pounding made it more agonizing.
After a set of squat to overhead presses, he was getting nauseous. Thankfully, it was easier to bail out with a pair of dumbbells than a barbell. Roman was taken by surprise when he suddenly lost his ability to lift those things. He had to drop them, they hit the floor hard.
He swayed, he collapsed, he lost whatever was in his stomach.
He lost consciousness and, this time, he didn’t know if anyone there actually noticed.
-
He woke up.
He was in the hospital.
Like last time, Janus and Remus were there. But unlike last time, they looked so much more exhausted and worried.
Janus’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, they were crying. Something Roman hardly ever saw from them.
Remus looked serious and angry.
Roman knew he screwed up even worse. If he thought the last time he was in this position felt like being hit by a truck, this time – it was more like a train.
He could barely make his limbs move. He felt a deeper ache, a feeling of tearing almost every muscle he could imagine. It was like someone stabbed him in multiple places on his legs, especially his thighs. He barely twitched before Janus whispered, “Be careful!”
That’s when Roman noticed what the two of them were looking at.
There was a bed sheet loosely laid over his lower body. Roman looked at them perplexed.
Remus looked at his brother tentatively, asking, “It’s gonna look pretty fucking gnarly under there, ya ready to see it?”
Roman refused to chase down the images that flitted through his mind thanks to the ominous warning. He tried to gulp, but it wound up giving him a short coughing fit, throat feeling weird on him. He eventually nodded.
Remus carefully unfurled the sheet. They all saw his lower legs, each with a pair of large, open gashes. The wounds were loosely held together by stitching that reminded him of shoe laces. He saw way too much of the insides that should stay inside. His eyes widened and he really wanted to look away. But he couldn’t.
Janus tried to remain calm, “You know that rhabdo thing? This time...”
Remus often coped with the horrifying by laughing about it, half-jovial and half-shaken, “Apparently, it’s kind of like what people do for brain swelling. Leave a hole there so the squishy stuff doesn’t strangle itself from the pressure and die!”
Roman’s voice was trembling “W-what’s gonna happen-?”
Janus took a breath, “They had to do this to save your legs. If things go well – you should be able to use them again.”
There was a long pause before Roman finally asked, “A-anything else?”
Remus was flippant about it, barely hiding the genuine concern written all over his face, “Yeah. Your kidneys have definitely seen better days, Robro.”
Roman looked downcast.
Remus never was one to sugarcoat things, elaborating, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to see how far up shit creek without a paddle you wound up this time from the doctors. Be glad Jannie is covering all of this.”
Roman barely moved and the conversation went by so fast. After the glimpse of how badly he’d truly screwed up, a profound tiredness settled into his bones.
He didn’t so much as fall asleep as pass out.
-
Roman was too tired to stay awake for very long, while he laid there in the ICU.
It was a haze of pain and fatigue shrouding him.
He wondered if he heard something about his heart in the haze. He wasn’t sure if they said it was too fast or too slow. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel right.
He felt he was long overdue the rest. Except, he just felt more exhausted.
He vaguely remembered something about medications. Medications that he should and shouldn’t be given. His brain was too out of it to make sense of the salad of mouth sounds. Not that he was ever great at understanding this stuff. He thought, “I should try harder to, maybe then, I won’t fuck up again.”
His thoughts got darker and darker, the longer he stayed awake.
He didn’t tell this to anyone.
-
The haze lingered, yet he was staying up longer. He wished he could take that as a good sign, but it was just getting harder to sleep.
Old members of the care team from when he last had that rhabdomy-lisisis thing, would come to visit him sometimes.
The kidney doctor was the first to talk, he hated how reserved they were, he could feel the bad news about to roll off their tongue. “You cut things very close, this time, Mr. Sanchez.”
His voice quavered a little, “T-tell me why I’m an idiot, get it over with…”
The kidney doctor’s eyes widened but quickly softened, “It’s common to have mood shifts with the kind of labs we got here… you’re in good hands, while we help you get more stable.”
“Stable?”
“The heatwave and the delay in getting to us… didn’t help.”
Roman was irritable, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
The kidney doctor took a breath, “Good news. The damage to your kidneys isn’t what we would call severe.”
“That’s the good news!? You guys sliced me open like a fucking butcher – a-and-”
If Roman was honest with himself, he would be appalled by how he was acting, but he couldn’t control it. Like he couldn’t control the tears flooding down his face, like when he was barely eight and found out his parents were-
“… it’s considered moderate levels of damage. But-”
Roman knew it was unnecessary, but he still bit back, “Spit it out.”
“Unlike last time, it’s more than likely irreversible. You’re going to need some medications to preserve function,” they gave a defeated sigh, “If you can do that, hopefully we won’t need to have you on dialysis, anytime soon. Hopefully, you won’t need to be seeing me too often.”
He wanted to scream and yell about the mess he was in.
He wasn’t able to and started to sob uncontrollably.
-
It was a week later when the swelling in his calves went down, fortunately without any infections. A small mercy that Roman wasn’t really able to appreciate.
They had to take a piece of skin from his thigh to graft the wounds. The donor site was also doing okay, according to the doctors. He was told that closing up his lower legs without that would put too much pressure on them to heal properly.
It was looking like he was going to keep his legs mostly intact, a fact that had his little famILY excited and happy for.
He had a pit in his stomach knowing that it all would leave large scars. They would be a permanent, glaring reminder of this mistake. Hindsight and painful introspection kept going back to everyone and everything telling him he shouldn’t have done what he did. He knew he was a complete moron, or as his tío Esteban would always say, “Hay días tontos y tontos todos los días.”
-
The heatwave broke days after Roman first woke up in the hospital.
He was released a few days after the scars started to form, more labs were done, and some preliminary physical therapy. The discharge papers were longer this time. Janus looked even more harried as they reviewed the information.
It was abundantly clear, Roman had changed and barely wanted to talk.
“Okay. I can help you continue working on the PT.”
“Mhmm.”
“I’m going to pick up all the medications the team prescribed you, I’ll be back.”
“Mhmm.”
“Olmesartan, check. Metformin, check. Iron, calcium, and vit D supplements, check…”
“Mhmm.”
“Roman, how are you feeling right now?”
“Fucking. Tired.”
“I’m having a good enough pain day that I could help you to bed, if you want?”
The way Janus winced for a brief second told Roman that they were lying.
“I’m sitting in this fucking wheelchair until you go get Patton to do it.”
Janus sighed and acquiesced.
-
Janus did help Roman as much as they could, still. Their own shell of aloofness completely shattered around their boyfriend.
Roman scratched himself all over, “… so… ITCHY.”
Janus looked at the discharge instructions – drilling themself on some things to watch out for thanks to the diagnosis of “Stage 3 Chronic Kidney Disease.” Since any changes might mean he needed to adjust his medications.
That was one of the listed symptoms, and Janus knew how to kill a couple birds with one stone.
“Does a massage with some of that oatmeal lotion, sound nice?”
Roman shrugged as he kept scratching himself.
Janus used this opportunity to try to soothe everything that itched and everything that ached. They also carefully rubbed it over Roman’s scars, encouraging Roman to slowly move around his feet, to keep the scars as supple as possible. This was one of those rare moments that Roman ever took off his sweatpants during the summer, since discharge.
Everyone noticed Roman stopped wearing shorts, but knew better than to ask about it.
-
Eventually, with the physical therapy, Roman graded down the kinds of mobility aids he needed.
Even though a walker would be ideal after the wheelchair, he swore he was only going to use one Janus’s canes. Especially out in public.
That was until he realized being able to sit down and rest in one let him manage to do more in the day. Too much pulling on the scars in his legs hurt. Sometimes he would get breathless and dizzy, and not sure if it was his kidneys or the medication he was on. He still exhausted easily, that bone-deep tiredness that he didn’t think was possible to compare to last time.
He hated it.
He hated knowing he probably was never going to be like he used to be. He lost so much muscle from thoughtlessly shredding them up and from the simple reality of not being able to move as much for so long. He wasn’t even thirty, yet he felt like he had taken on several decades.
More than a few times, Janus would find him inconsolable. Janus occasionally mentioned holding that roughshod gym he went to criminally negligent, especially after reports of a developing pattern for it – including at least one other patron actually dying. That didn’t seem to do much for Roman.
Roman felt bad whenever he needed to call Patton out of the blue to lift him sometimes – knowing Patton was the strongest one to do so. No matter how many times Patton tried to reassure him that it was okay, he was ashamed.
Janus had long since accepted that they would need the aids more and more – especially after the stress-induced psoriatic flare-up they had while Roman was in the hospital. There was nothing wrong with needing them. They wished they could help Roman see that.
Janus was no Pollyanna, but for Roman’s sake, they still hoped that he’ll get to the point of only needing the cane.
Something to see Roman smile over.
-
Logan took some time researching, to try to understand what Roman was going through.
He, like everyone else, did notice the steady progress Roman really was making.
Logan was not a doctor, medicine wasn’t nearly as much of an all-consuming interest as working with code. Regardless, he looked into some case reports about “bilateral lower extremity compartment syndrome” and “fasciotomies”.
He saw that the sample of athletic individuals appeared to be able to get back to sports in average just under 11 weeks. It was plausible he could come away with it with little to no pain, even. But then, these reports said nothing about dealing with clinically significant kidney damage. Or other long-term complications...
Sometimes he’d forget he was on the clock when Remus snapped him out of it, “Ground Control to Major Tom!?”
“What is it, Remus?”
Remus was also not quite his usual chipper self.
Remus admitted to Logan once, “It was fucking funny at first… I guess I kinda hoped it’d be like last time, when he bounced back to his usual self. I don’t think that’s gonna happen, is it?”
This time Remus peered over the monitor at the right angle, seeing through the privacy screen, and talked, “You should really leave that up to the doctors... and maybe Jannie... or Padre, Nerdy Wolverine.”
“You’re right. You’re right. I suppose I missed times such as when I managed to catch him getting a mild case of heat exhaustion at the track… his rather baffling enthusiasm certainly made it a more entertaining day.”
Remus’s tone sharpened, “Don’t. Don’t talk about my brother like he’s already six feet under.”
“Apologies. This – this has changed so many things, it’s... disconcerting.”
Remus sighed, understanding, “Honestly? I don’t blame you at all, Lo. I know that’s the real C-Word here...”
“I just want to learn to better accommodate Roman’s new needs.”
-
Roman had been holed up in Janus’s apartment, one of the luckier spots near the edge of the city limits. Janus could stay chilled out over here in the summers. Janus continued to do the best they could caring for Roman.
Roman appreciated it to no end, most especially, once he was let go from the call center for taking too many sick days.
“Whatever,” he thought, “I hated it there...”
Outside of appointments, Roman hardly left. He had a lot of those to go to, at that point.
Primary care doctor – good to know he wasn’t, in fact, dying. Nurses, mixed bag. Dietitians – so many Don’ts and not many Dos. Physical therapists – sometimes more brutal than he thought his old workouts were. Pharmacists – Roman quickly lost track of what he was on. Nephrologist – surprisingly, not often. Cardiologist – exercise challenges somehow sucked even more…
Remus was better at retaining this kind of stuff than his brother. Remus could imagine the guy zoning out all the time in their offices, if not for Janus. He needed to see how Roman was doing, after nearly a month since the hospital visit.
Roman greeted him at the door, white-knuckling one of Janus’s canes, barely staying standing.
“Dammit, Roman. You don’t have to force it in front of me.”
Roman grunted and turned around to gracelessly drop onto the sofa – not like he was able to do so otherwise.
Remus followed next to him, including dropping onto the sofa the most obnoxious way he could. He tried to keep things light, at first, “Do you feel bored?”
Roman shrugged.
Remus changed the subject, feeling the need to talk about the badly taxidermied elephant in the room, “Look. I just wanted mention that... if the ambulance got there ANY later, you-you’d be dead... it was-”
Roman huffed, “Do you really want to hear what I have to say about that?”
“What?”
“A lot of times, I wished I-”
Remus knew exactly where Roman was going, and it shook him. Remus sobered further, “… I can only imagine what you’re going through.”
Roman’s voice was hoarse from all the disuse, “That all?”
“I suck at this kind of shit but – I-I- don’t think I would’ve handled that.”
“So?”
Remus said nothing before hugging Roman tightly, like he was going to slip by like sand.
Remus – Remus cried.
Roman wasn’t even sure how he should respond to this.
Few things got to Remus like this.
Roman wondered if he was crying too, softening, “I-I’m sorry I should’ve-”
“Shut your whore mouth – I should’ve basically tackled and fucking hogtied you the instant I heard you were going to-to-”
Remus squeezed tighter.
“… thanks.”
“Just… let us help you?”
“… I’ll try.”
-
Eventually, Roman was able to mostly just use the cane on good days.
On the better days, he got away with not needing it at all. Barely. He usually needed a moment to collect himself in his vehicle. One of these days, he made some purchases that his health care team made a big deal discouraging him from.
He was told to lay off the salt (among other things he forgot about), told his kidneys would have a harder time with it. So, that meant no fast food, no ramen, no Doritos.
He may or may not have splurged a little.
Before he reversed out of the parking lot, he opened up one of the bags of chips and started munching on them as he made his way back home. He had a moment of joy, thinking, “Never thought I’d compare these things to ambrosia.”
So far, so good. It was a little awkward supporting himself with the cane and holding the junk as he got into Janus’s apartment. He also hated that creeping tired feeling pulling at him more, too.
When he heard the door open, he was greeted by Janus. After a glance, Janus crossed their arms with as stern a look as they could manage.
The evidence was written allover his face and hands, Roman blanched.
Janus gestured Roman to hand over the bag of “food”, before allowing Roman inside.
If Roman was a dog, he’d stare at the floor and have his tail between his legs. He stuck with the former action and meekly saying, “… sorry.”
Janus rolled their eyes, tone affectionate, “I’m totally not going to watch you. I’m certainly not going to say ‘told you so’ when you regret that.”
Roman knew he was regretting that hours later, when he felt off.
He felt a little bloated, but then he wasn’t great at keeping track of time between the bathroom visits. What was more obvious was when his hands and feet ached and had swollen up a little. Roman chewed on his lip, wondering if he should tell Janus about it.
He didn’t get that chance, not aware that Janus was, in fact, watching him stare at his hands.
Janus touched them, knowing this was another thing to watch out for, “I’ll call your team about your meds. Do listen to them about the salt, please?”
As Janus turned around and stared at the bag full of junk food. They continued, “I’m also going to give that contraband to Remus, too.”
-
Despite improving stamina and mobility, Roman still got tired easily.
He often thought about the gym, the only reason he’d been going there was doing physical therapy.
He’d pass by the equipment he loved and glanced down on his frame, he lost a lot of his muscle tone. The definition wasn’t really there anymore. It was depressing. He hated sticking around much longer than necessary.
“Ready, Mr. Sanchez?”
Janus wasn’t the one leading the therapy, though they helped with his homework and keeping him a little active.
It was pretty comprehensive work. Doing things like full range calf raises – he always felt more stiff on the down position there and needed some support for balance. Most of the lower body work was there to help him get some of his balance and coordination back. He was told it was possible his bones weren’t going to be as strong as they used to be, so he needed to be able to prevent falls.
There was a lot of upper body work, to help him carry things, operate and do transfers with the wheelchair longer and more often. Whenever he had his worse days.
It was hard waking up the muscle groups, and a challenge sometimes to get through the whole training session without feeling like he wanted to collapse.
As Roman finished the day’s regimen, he was sprawled out onto the gym mat, waiting to recover enough to get into his car later.
He encountered a familiar voice and face, “Hey, there kiddo. You good? Need a hand?”
Roman puffed his hair away from his face, “Thinking about it.”
Patton sat next to Roman, trying to look wistful, “Do you know what today is?”
Roman shrugged.
“The anniversary of when all six of us became famILY!”
Patton was always on top of important dates like that. Roman was too tired to think of a response other than, “Oh.”
“And you know what that means?”
Roman rolled over to face Patton, “Movies?”
“Affirmative!”, Patton clapped when he said that.
Roman was concerned, “Don’t know if you noticed. I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine, don’t want to-”
“Now, kiddo, storm clouds are more Virgil’s specialty.”
Roman snorted, despite himself, “Guess it’s time to throw my glove down on that.”
“Is the contest going to involve flowers?”
“What does-”
“I don’t know if we have enough room for more-roses.”
Roman groaned, trying very hard not to smile. He didn’t feel like he deserved any of this. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“We’ll do our best to get you cozy while over at my place – it’s not a party without our MVP!”
“… you say that about everyone.”
“We’d be FUBAR without all hands. Basically, I’m voluntelling you to go to the dang movie night.”
“Sheesh, okay, then.”
-
Patton greeted everyone enthusiastically as they all trickled through the entrance of his townhouse.
Logan was there the earliest, “Greetings Patton, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?”
“Hehe, yeah. I didn’t want to leave people out so-”, Patton didn’t want to mention who he meant.
“No need elaborate there, I understand.”
Virgil dragged Remus with him.
Patton was perplexed, “Should I... ask?”
Virgil grunted, “Probably… not.”
Remus was making a scene, “I need Robro here!”
Virgil continued tugging his boyfriend along, “He said. He’s going. To be. Here, jackass.”
Patton nodded, trying to understand. Everyone had changed somewhat since Roman was in the hospital.
Remus crossed his arms and pouted as Virgil made one last tug, “When I have to tell you not to worry, there’s a problem.”
Janus and Roman were fashionably late, about thirty minutes past Patton’s suggested time. But Patton was just glad they got there, “Hello, guest of honor and his lovely partner!”
Janus hovered behind waiting on Roman to step away from the vehicle, assisted by cane. Patton winced about the reminders. But once Roman stood up and caught his breath, he was a little lighter on the aid than he last remembered. Patton was encouraged by how much progress he made and smiled.
Janus spoke, not quite acknowledging the saccharine greeting, “Much apologies for being a little… late.”
Roman looked away, “You could’ve went without the dead weight.”
Janus whipped their head around in sync with Patton, and said what they were both thinking, “I swear – you are NOT dead weight!”
Roman shrugged, not very convinced, “Well. I’m here now.”
Patton ushered the last of the guests inside and they congregated in Patton’s living room. The room was completely prepared for everyone to get comfy.
It was a little awkward when everyone looked at Roman, “What?”
Patton cleared his throat, “I think they want you to pick your spot first.”
Roman felt mortified by all the attention, uncomfortable enough to notice how itchy he was feeling again. Before, everyone made a big deal on “first come, first serve” followed by plenty ribbing about “stolen spots”. He must’ve looked like a deer in front of headlights when Janus gently tapped and massaged his stiffened shoulder, “Is it so impossible to think people genuinely care about you?”
Roman shook his head and headed for the recliner almost forgetting to actually use his aid, stumbling a little before claiming it. Roman stammered, “H-happy now?”
Roman thought quietly that this was actually nice, sighing with relief, flipping up the leg rest. Everyone else was quiet for an awkward length of time before Patton clapped his hands, “What are y’all waiting for, get cozy! I’ll get the snacks out.”
Patton pointedly glanced at Janus to follow him into the kitchen.
Janus asked while they went along, “Am I needed?”
“Yeah. I mean. I know you have to make adjustments with the food, but it’s been awhile since I’ve dealt with this kind of thing. Just wanted you to check my work.”
Patton reached into the fridge and pulled out a huge platter and a couple bowls of snacks that were clearly all fresh and healthy. They would usually get the typical junk food, for these little gatherings, but there wasn’t a bag of chips or pretzels in sight.
“So. Little to no salt in this?”
“Yeah, not even that salt substitute with the potassium, something else I know you’re supposed to watch. I did try to use other seasonings to make things more flavorful. There’s some egg salad with only the whites, and low sodium mayo… there’s some home-made hummus to dip the veggies in, with just enough-”
“Roman also has to watch his protein intake… but I think these portion sizes are great.”
Patton breathed a sigh of relief, “When I served, I was helping people get stable from the kinda rhabdo you see from crush injuries. This wasn’t an area of expertise I was slotted into, so…”
“Pat. You did good, let’s go plate some of this up and give it out.”
Once that was situated, Patton had “Tangled” playing first.
Logan didn’t mind the menu, understanding. The twins and Virgil gaped a little about the snacks offered, way too used to running on less than ideal sources of sustenance. Roman, however was slowly getting used to eating this kind of stuff more often and was the first of them to munch away. It really wasn’t so bad. It might be because he noticed feeling a little better afterwards, in comparison.
His appetite wasn’t what it used to be, even then. He sometimes forgot about all of that and regretted it soon after.
As is tradition, everyone took cheeky swipes here and there about the typical Disney cheese factor. At first Roman had trouble with engaging with it, until he heard Janus snorted when the motley crew of vagabonds sang, “I’ve Got a Dream.”
It was when a specific lyric was sung, “and I know someday romance will reign supreme.”
That earned a snort in agreement from Roman. It was one of those reasons why he clicked with Janus, Roman never really understood that realm of experiences and Janus just didn’t really care. The reverie was interrupted by Remus shouting and cackling, “¡La dulce polla de Lucy! I just realized something!”
Roman was scared to ask, “...what?”
Virgil’s eyes widened immediately and frantically gestured at Remus not to say anything. An effort in futility, really.
“Weeell – Let’s just say I was Eugene and Virgie was totally Rapunzel when we first met. Except there was no frying pan involved. Or bondage. Unfortunately.”
Patton jokingly yelled, “Spoilers!”
Logan interjected, “We’ve- we’ve watched this at least ten separate times, Patton.”
Meanwhile Virgil was beet red, retreating into his hoodie. Remus noticed and yanked him into a hug, “You’re just so cute when you’re mortified! Wait, does that mean I have a humiliation kink?”
Roman yelled, “GROSS. I DID NOT NEED TO-”
Remus cackled again, Janus joined in the laughter.
Roman whipped his head over to Janus next to him, ignoring the slight dizzy spell it incurred, “TRAITOR!”
They all started to laugh after that, probably missing the next several minutes of the movie. But it didn’t matter.
For a moment, Roman actually felt okay. He was happy these tears were in laughter.
Patton was right, he really did need this. It was Normal.
-
A couple months later, Roman met most of his healthcare team with Janus in tow.
“We’ve been tracking your blood work and have some good news.”
Roman perked a little about it, but tried to be reserved. Janus answered, “Oh?”
The kidney doctor nodded at the dietitian and looked at Roman, “Your kidney function is holding steady, you’ve been doing a good job! It’s not easy to deal with all these lifestyle changes.”
Roman had trouble appreciating the good news, “… so it really is going to stay like this?”
His physical therapist spoke up, “Don’t sell yourself short! You’ve made so much progress!”
Janus nodded and smiled at Roman. Roman remained sullen, “… why doesn’t it feel like it.”
Primary care doctor added, “This stuff is difficult for most to grapple with. I can make a referral to some mental health providers?”
Roman shook his head, “I-I don’t know…”
“That’s alright, just know the option is there for you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
The conversation continued with some reviews that made Roman’s eyes glaze over again.
Janus whispered into Roman’s ear, “This may be a good time to ask them to clear you for a placard.”
Roman groaned, “W-what if I don’t want to take up the space someone else might need?”
Janus frowned at him, the primary care doctor was curious, “It would be no trouble to help you get parking accommodations. I should think it’d be safer for you – none of us want you to pass out in a parking lot somewhere. But, it’s also your choice.”
Janus added, “You don’t need to use the privilege on days you don’t think you need it. Consider it a ‘just in case’ sort of thing?”
“… I’ll think about it.”
The primary care doctor spoke again, “Those options are all on the table and don’t feel like you can’t ask us questions, Mr. Sanchez.”
Roman squirmed a little, realizing he’d been leaving Janus to be the one doing all of that for him. Roman didn’t trust himself to not say anything dumb or to even remember the important things. “R-right. I-I’m good, for now.”
-
It was strange feeling so fidgety even when his tank was pretty much empty and needed sleep.
It was like someone was giving his legs shocks and he’d roll around in bed to try to get comfortable. He eventually sat up with some strain, tiredly wondering how to get to sleep. It didn’t happen often and a lot of the time he managed to eventually pass out from exhaustion. It just wasn’t happening that night.
This wasn’t the first time Janus caught this, “Are you alright, Roman?”
“Think it’s that RLS... thing? Can’t sleep.”
“I wonder… would you be up to do some drawing or writing? I’ve missed seeing it and it may be a good distraction?”
“… maybe. I don’t know.”
At first, Roman sat there staring at a blank notebook holding a pencil. It had been too long since he tried doing this. It didn’t help that he was drilled on how useless the one thing he was actually good at was, ever since he was a kid. It didn’t help that he felt useless in general.
He didn’t realize when he started crying until Janus put their hand on his shoulder. Before he knew it, Janus gave him a kiss, on the mouth. He was so tired, but he missed this.
One of the things Roman often dwelt on was whether he was ever going to have the energy for the sort of stuff he always craved from Janus again. He wanted to get more passionately intimate with them, tearing off all their clothes, touching each other in all the perfect spots, and – this didn’t last very long, but that kiss certainly wasn’t chaste.
When they broke away, Janus encouraged him, “I believe in you.”
Roman ached for more of Janus, but he knew he was too tired for it.
Eventually, Roman felt a tiny spark of something. He tentatively made some pencil strokes into the book. He went to sketching what he fantasized about with Janus and feeling a little naughty. He didn’t really care if they saw. It was a… nice outlet.
Before long, he managed to get to sleep.
-
Virgil would occasionally approach Roman after his PT sessions at the gym.
He didn’t say much, he just sat there and waited for Roman to recover his energy, saying, “if you need to talk, I’m here.”
Often times, it was a companionable silence. As if Virgil had some insight into where Roman was at – without being overly presumptuous. A refreshing approach, at times Roman felt smothered by the others, even though he was grateful of the intention.
It was about three or four months after the hospitalization when Virgil asked him something out of the blue, “Do you feel… depressed?”
Roman sputtered a little, “I – I… I don’t know.”
“This is a No Judgment Zone, remember?”
“… truth is. I started wondering about that since one of my doctors suggested…”
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”
“Yeah… about that…”
“Dude. You’ve been through a fucking lot this year. You more than deserve it.”
If Virgil asked him this any sooner, Roman wouldn’t be ready to listen. But this time, Roman slumped, “I guess it really is that obvious how I’ve… fallen apart.”
Roman was doing a lot of crying the past few months, this was another one of those jags.
After Virgil gave Roman a few pats, he asked, “I don’t do the whole toxic positivity thing, but do you know anything about kintsugi pottery?”
Roman blinked. He quickly recalled hearing about that from his ceramics class back in high school. How he was fast enamored by their fragile beauty, the precious metals and shiny glazes. His mind also jumped to stained glass, quilting, patchwork, collages, assemblages, and other things that held a similar theme to them. That was something he was a sponge about – he could prattle on about a wide variety of techniques and media if he was allowed to.
Roman whispered, “Maybe, maybe there’s enough pieces left…”
“It’s gonna be an ongoing project, but… I believe in you. We all do.”