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MAX COSTELLO

PAST
NOVEMBER 2019

As soon as I finished work I headed over to Oliver's apartment, he text to say that his counselling session went well and that he is relieved it's over. I told him I'd be over and he said he'd head home at the same time.

Praying that he would actually be on the way home rather than off to the art studio to do more coursework. I hoped that the session he went to today helped him put his excessive studying into perspective, even just realising that he needs a break.

I turn the corner of the street and head towards his block of flats, just as I approach the stairs, Oliver crosses the road. Backpack over his shoulders and headphones pushed into his ears, he doesn't even notice me until he glances up from the floor to take the first step.

"Oh," he says in shock, blinking once. "Hey."

"Hey," I say as I steal a quick kiss from his lips.

Oliver pulls his headphones out of his ears and pushes them into his pocket before taking out his keys, I follow him up the steps and to his front door. "How was your day?" I ask as we push our way into his flat.

He hums, dumping his bag onto the floor and he turns around to me. "The meeting was good," he says enthusiastically. "I got a lot of useful sources to try treatments at home, I booked another session to go next week. It's a lot of mindfulness and helping myself when I'm alone and in that state of despair that I need to work."

I nod and take his hand, guiding us over to the sofa. We sit down beside each other but I don't let go of his hand. "That sounds about right," I agree. "It'll give you things to work on outside of the sessions."

"Yeah," Oliver glances at me as I brush my thumb over the back of his hand gently. "It helped me clear my mind of why I'm so obsessed but I still need to work hard so I don't send myself crazy."

I bring our hands up to my face and I kiss his hand. "I'm so proud of you," I tell him. "Getting help, doing this on your own. It's a big step and I am so pleased for you. Do you think the research links were helpful?"

Oliver nods instantly. "They gave me a leaflet for external sources," he explains. "She also sent me a link to some other things by email. She gave me some exercises to do over the course of the week and I'm going to show her what I did."

"Well," I scoot closer to wrap my arm over his shoulder. "I'm going to be here for you, if you need me to help, or you just want to talk."

He nuzzles his head against mine. "I know," he exhales softly. "And I'm very grateful for you."

"It took me a lot of strength to leave after my last class today but it also felt good," he admits and that spreads unlimited warmth to my heart. "But I've got two hours after class tomorrow to do my final piece before Christmas."

"As long as you don't overwork yourself and you stick to the time you dedicate to it," I tell him as he pulls away from my shoulder and looks up at him.

His lips hum slowly. "Exactly, having a schedule makes it easier to spread my time. Before I was going just a little crazy."

"You're not crazy," I shake my head. "Just dedicated and need a little help to juggle your time better, that's all."

Oliver smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. "You always put my life in the best terms," he mumbles against me.

"That's what I'm here for," I breathe out slowly with a wide smile. "And your next session is next week?

"Mmm-hmmm," he mumbles. "Yeah, I am quite looking forward to it actually. Who would have thought I'd be freaking out this morning?"

I chuckle quietly and nod. "Well you've done great, baby. So proud of you."

He beams up at me. "So am I."

PRESENT
OCTOBER 2021

Oliver didn't say anything in the cab journey back to the hospital, I could tell he was anxious because he kept wanting to close his fists but then remembering they were sore. I frown and grip onto his wrist gently, trying to stop him from subconsciously hurting himself.

He doesn't look back at me but instead continues to glance out the window at pedestrians on the street. My lungs exhale a silent breath as I watch him, somehow wishing I could read his mind.

Did he hate me for what happened?

Jamie said he wasn't in the right frame of mind, he's confused, hurt and scared. So there is a high chance he could despise me for what I let happen to him. But I just wanted him to know that I could trade places with him, I would. Without any hesitation. I'd take every inch of pain and fear that his body endured. Every last bit of it.

The cab driver pulls up outside the accident and emergency side of the hospital, I thank him and hand him over the money before taking Oliver's bags. I step out of the car and loop around the other side to Oliver before he hurt his wounded hands any more.

"Come on," I say quietly as we walk towards the front desk.

Oliver's eyes were trained on the floor, his bruised eyes slowly recovering but you could see that he still had a long way to go. His skin had gone from purple to yellow, splodges of broken red skin cells.

I sign Oliver in as he couldn't do anything with his hands, the receptionist glances at me and then at Oliver and I already knew what she was thinking. The suspicion in her eye made me feel sick, she thought I had done this to him. Oliver wouldn't look at anyone like I was controlling him but he was just afraid.

We take a seat in the waiting room, Oliver sits right beside me and I inhale deeply. The waiting times for accident and emergency are always extortionate but I prayed that somehow they'd go quickly, Oliver didn't want to be in here anymore than I did.

I look down to him and wrap my arm over his shoulder, pulling his body into mine. "You'll be seen soon," I whisper.

Oliver nods but keeps his eyes on the floor. God, he was going to break my heart.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

He doesn't reply.

"Have you been eating?" I change the question.

Oliver's lip purses and he clears his throat. "Haven't really had much of an appetite." He speaks so quietly, I almost miss the last couple of words.

"You still need to eat," I tell him as I rub my palm up and down his shoulder. "You still need to help your recovery."

"I know," he tells me, dipping his eyes out of view of mine.

"I'm not going to force you to eat but maybe we can try after this," I suggest as I press a kiss to his temple. "We can go wherever you want."

Oliver hums and I push back in my seat. He probably didn't want to talk and I needed to respect that. Time slowly ticks by and Oliver lowers his head into my shoulder, I take one glance at him and his eyes shut.

He probably hadn't been sleeping either, still afraid that those thugs would be back to finish off the job like they threatened.

"Oliver Fletcher?" A doctor pops her head around the edge of the room.

I gently squeeze Oliver's shoulder, his eyes still firmly shut. "Come on baby," I whisper to him, his eyes snap open and he takes in his surroundings suddenly. "The doctor just called your name."

His eyes reduce to normal size as he sucks in a breath, realising that he was safe and in the hospital. I stand and follow him through to the doctor who was waiting for us.

"Hi Oliver," she smiles at him, taking one look down at his hands. "I'm Doctor Peyton. If you guys will follow me, I'll take you down to my room and we can take a look at your hands."

I slip behind Oliver and walk towards the doctors room, she holds it open for us and I thank her. Oliver hovers before sitting down and Dr Payton shuts the door behind us.

She takes a seat at her desk before scooting the chair over to Oliver. "How are you feeling today, Oliver?" She questions.

He shrugs. "Okay."

Dr Payton nods at his words. "That's okay," she pauses before reaching for a fresh pair of latex gloves. "I'm going to just take a look at your hands, okay?"

Oliver doesn't respond but he nods.

She slips on the gloves and takes his little hands in hers, she inspects the open wounds and nods. "Have these been bandaged before?"

Nothing comes out of Oliver's mouth so I decide to speak for him. "Yeah," I say as she turns her attention to mine. "He was admitted to the hospital about a week and a half ago, he had them bandaged but he took them off today."

"Do you remember the aftercare the doctor asked you to do, Oliver?" She questions towards him.

He shakes his head, of course he doesn't. He was too busy being terrified of what else might happen to him.

"You should have been prescribed some antibiotic cream, which needs to be applied with fresh bandages every three days for another two weeks. I'm going to clean up your hands, apply the cream and bandage them up again for you. But you are not to change them until three days, okay?" She speaks slowly and eventually Oliver nods.

"Would it be okay if you gave us some stuff to bandage his hands up in for when he next takes them off?" I ask as I hover by the door.

Dr Payton turns to me with a nod. "Of course," she says. "Just please do not take these off prematurely. It can leave permanent scars and you can be more prone to infections. We want them to heal nicely."

"Okay," Oliver's voice croaks.

She turns to me with an unsure look. "I'll make sure that they're changed correctly." I tell her with a firm nod.

"Okay," she says before pulling away from her chair and walking towards the door. "Give me a moment to get the cream and we can get you all cleaned up."

"Thank you," I tell her gratefully as I move out of the way for her.

Oliver wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and I didn't even realise he was crying. "Hey baby," I cup the side of his head. "Please don't cry."

I squat down to his level and grip onto his thigh softly. "What's wrong?" I dip my tone.

His eyes clench tightly and he shakes his head. "I'm just so scared," he mumbles out.

I blink back at his words, not expecting him to say anything. "I know you are," I press my head to his shoulder in defeat.

"I'm just so fucking tired, exhausted and done with this. I just want everything to go back to normal. That's all I want." He sobs and it felt like my soul had left my body.

My hand raises to cup the side of his head as I press endless kisses to his temple, trying my hardest to retain my own emotions before I break down with him. "Things will go back to normal, Oliver. I promise you." I frown as my heart shatters inside of me.

Oliver's eyes slowly flick to mine, his lips open to say something but Dr Payton comes back in. I kiss him once more before standing and letting the doctor do her magic.

. . .

Whilst waiting for Oliver to get his bandages fixed, I drop Jamie a text that I'm with him and he's safe. Anything to stop him from despising me. He probably expected me to drop him back wherever they were staying but I didn't want to.

Oliver said he was tired, he can't sleep because he's so terrified and I wanted to be with him no matter what.

Once Dr Payton had fitted Oliver's bandages and given me some material to use when they next need changing, we're sent on our way. Oliver couldn't do anything with his hands but they needed to heal otherwise he won't be able to do anything at all.

As we approach the taxi rank outside, I stop and turn to him. "We can go to a local Travel Lodge, we can order some food, you can get some sleep. Would that make you feel better? I suggest.

His eyes look up at me, I could see a glint of relief as I say these words. "Yeah," he nods quickly.

"Okay," I smile. "Let's go."

We jump in the next taxi and head across town, away from the hospital and away from his apartment. Maybe a new setting would calm his mind, as far as we could go from his recent trauma.

It doesn't take long until we get to the hotel, I pay for a room with the remaining money I had and take ourselves upstairs. Oliver holds his hands in front of him to stop him from accidentally touching handles or the walls.

I place the key inside the door and step in, allowing Oliver in first before I shut the door behind us and place his bags on the floor.

He takes one glance around before walking towards the window and looking out, the thin curtains flapping from the slightly ajar window.

I perch on the edge of the bed and wait for Oliver to join me, it doesn't take him long and we settle in silence. "Shall we order something to eat and we can watch some TV. Relax, take your mind off everything."

Oliver nods again and I instantly take out my phone from my pocket and scroll through JustEat. "I think I'm hungry for chinese." He comments out of the blue and I smile at his idea, at least he was co-operating.

"Me too," I agree. "Great choice."

I pull up the highest rated chinese takeaway that was close to the hotel, reading out the food choices to Oliver as he picks what he wants. It doesn't take long until the order is made, my stomach growling for prawn toast and sweet and sour chicken balls.

My bum shuffles further up the bed as I reach for the TV remote and turn on the screen, I pay the vacant space beside me and Oliver slips into the spot. "What shall we watch?" I question as I flick through the limited choices.

"Anything," he tells me quickly. "Anything at all"

"Okay," I nod before finding the comedy channel and switching to Impractical Jokers.

Oliver cuddles up in my arms without me even asking and I couldn't express the pure love in my heart, his eyes glued on the TV screen. I run my hand down the back of his head, strands of hair flicking through my fingers.

Not soon after my phone vibrates beside me, food was downstairs and the driver was waiting. Oliver watches me as I stand from the bed, telling him that I'd be back in a second. I practically sprint down the hall and down the stairs, not wanting him to be alone longer than he has to.

I collect the bag of food from the driver and dart back upstairs, Oliver's curious eyes find mine as I walk back into the room. My hands rip open the bag and I place the foil containers out on the bed, taking off the cardboard tops and watching the heat waft into the air.

My legs cross as I sit opposite from him, Oliver reaches forward for the plastic fork but his bandages won't allow him to grip the utensil. "Let me help," I say as I take the fork and dig it straight into the chicken chow mein.

I twist the fork so the noodles catch on the spikes and I hold it up to Oliver's lips, he opens and I slide the food into his mouth before he bites down. I pull back the fork as he chews and then he hums in satisfaction, so quietly but I could hear it.

The fork falls back into the noodles and I feed myself before reaching for a fresh piece of prawn toast and holding it up to his mouth again, he happily takes a bite down and I smile. He needed food and by the looks of things, he was rather enjoying himself.

"Good?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"So good," he comments with a smile before glancing back at the TV.

We munch our way through half of the food, as delicious as it was, it was far too much. Oliver's eyes started to shut as he laid between my legs, head firmly on my chest. I had wrapped my arms around his torso and held him tightly, he was off to sleep within a matter of seconds.

A mixture of exhaustion and a food coma I suspected.

I could feel his slow heartbeat through the front of my chest as I peck the back of his head over and over. He was safe here, with me. Secure. That's all I have ever wanted him to feel.

"I love you," I whisper even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "I love you so much Oliver. More than you'll ever know."

My fingers press down on the TV remote and I turn it down, not wanting to disturb Oliver's well needed sleep. I hold this position, even though I could feel my back begin to twing at the angle I was laying in but I didn't care, if that meant Oliver got some rest then it would be worth it.

Anything is worth it for him.

. . .

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Max cares about Oliver so much that it actually hurts my soulll

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