Chapter Seven (Seth)

I had a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I seemed to be getting it a lot nowadays, particularly because of a certain someone that I had never meant to like.

Anthony Stewart was like a drug.

He was tempermental. He was a drunk. His self-esteem was nearly non-existent and he had the social skills of someone who was very used to being alone. If it had been anyone else, I would have never let that person into my house or around my brother, especially. I would've thrown him out. I didn't want someone like that around Taylor, no matter how irritating or rude Taylor could be. Being around drunks reminded us of something that really shouldn't be in our heads anymore.

And yet, whenever I looked at Anthony, I felt like he was hoping someone would save him. He couldn't save himself. He was hoping someone else would, but he behaved as if no one had ever bothered or wanted to. It was almost like he was slowly giving up on everything.

I had had hope when he came over the other night. I was overjoyed when he said he was sober and when he only had a little bit of the alcohol. And when he asked me save him, in his own special way of course, I couldn't resist.

He was addicting.

He could be as mean and stubborn as he wanted, but it didn't matter. I could still remember the way his hands felt on my body, our mouths, the way he felt when I penetrated a place he was very reluctant to give up to just anyone, the look on his face like he was desperate to feel. He wanted to get warm.

He was always so cold.

He needed someone to warm him up.

And I was happy to do that. I had no idea why I felt so much about this guy. And the way we met wasn't exactly the greatest either.

Taylor had brought him over and I hadn't even known about it until the guy burst into the bathroom just as I was getting out of the shower, just so he could vomit. It was a sight that would've turned most people off instantly and made them retaliate in disgust... Yet, I couldn't find it in myself to be angry or disgusted with him.

When he had looked at me in the ultimate humiliation, I felt sorry for him. It got even worse when I met eyes with him. He could be as tough as he wanted, but the pain in his eyes was so obvious that he might as well have it written on his forehead.

Anthony had just been waiting so long to be saved that he'd given up. He didn't even have the motivation to save himself.

"He should've been here by now." I muttered, biting at the end of my thumb as I bounced my knee up and down nervously, glancing at the door. Taylor leaned on the wall nearby in an oversized college sweatshirt he stole from one of his old boyfriends, holding a mug of hot chocolate in his hands.

"Gotta admit, I'm a little worried myself." He agreed, frowning as he glanced out the window at the snow that poured down in waves, coating the streets in a thick layer of white. There were only two or three cars on the streets now and they drove at a safe fifteen miles an hour. Something in me told me that Anthony wouldn't drive that slow.

"I'm going to go look for him." I stated, getting to my feet. Taylor frowned, pushing off the wall.

"I want to look too." He said firmly, making me blink and turn to look at him in annoyance. He was behaving the same way he had the last time I actually dated someone for a while. He wanted Anthony and I could see it everytime Anthony was around, but I wasn't about to let that happen.

Taylor was my brother, yes. We'd been together all our lives and through the deaths of our parents and our aunt and uncle, through break ups, fist fights, and everything else. I could be a little overprotective too, even I had to admit that, however, I knew when Taylor was chasing something he shouldn't.

I knew Taylor all too well. He could look as cute and loveable as he wanted, but he was a sadist and loved teasing and being mean to the people he loved, which included me in a different kind of love, of course, but still. He didn't know when to stop or when enough was enough.

Anthony couldn't handle that. He was tired of being treated like he was the town drunk, like a man who lived in the gutter.

And as selfish as it was to say, I wanted to be that person.

"Stay here," I told Taylor firmly, watching him wrinkle his nose in distaste, "He might show up."

"And the chances of that are," Taylor paused dramatically, then scowled, "Don't be stupid. You said he was drunk as hell when he called. He's probably lying in a ditch somewhere." My heart clenched at that and I immediately saw the regret in Taylor's eyes, but I turned away, snatching up my jacket and keys.

"I'm going out to look. Stay here, Taylor. I mean it."

"Or you'll what?"

"I'll tell Eric you're the one who's been beating up the guys who pick on him." While most people wouldn't be offended by that, Taylor was and I watched his cheeks darken before he turned away from me to go into the kitchen. I looked away and went out the door, running down the stairs and out to my car.

The air was icy cold, the wind bitter and harsh. The snow was already collecting up to my knees, flying and kicking up through the air viciously. It was almost like a tornado of snow was engulfing the city. I jumped in my car and started the engine, cranking the heat and blasting out of the parking spot. Instantly my wheels caught some ice and I fishtailed out of the parking lot, so I slowed down, grimacing impatiently as I turned the windshield wipers on high.

I drove steadily down the road, looking around carefully, hoping I wouldn't see Anthony's car in a ditch. Yet, I still couldn't shake the bad feeling in my stomach. I made sure to keep my cell phone in my pocket to call for help as I drove slowly, avoiding the patches of ice. Thankfully there was no one else on the road, so when I did slide into the next lane, I had time to carefully pull myself back into the right one.

Come on, Anthony.

Please be okay.

Please be at home.

I started to think he really had stayed home because on the way, I saw no sign of any cars in a ditch or anything until I drove past the fork in the road near Anthony's street. While I was heading on the other road, I saw a pair of headlights peering up out of the darkness of a ditch. My stomach clenched as I bit my lip and carefully backed up before pulling out onto the road. I pulled up along the road and quickly go out, grimacing at the waist deep snow that had collected in the ditch around a very familiar looking Jaguar vehicle.

The back end of it was crunched up against a thick oak tree that seemed tilted now because of the crash. The windshield wipers were still going and the lights were still on, much to my relief. I waded through the snow, hissing at how cold it was before I reached the window. I wiped the snow away and my heart dropped into my stomach to see Anthony lying there unconscious, a bloody gash in his forehead. He looked unbelievably pale, dark circles under his eyes.

"Anthony!" I barked, knocking my knuckles against the window. I waited to see if he'd at least move, but he didn't budge. I cursed and grabbed the handle, jerking on it, but it was locked.

"Son of a bitch," I cursed, then looked through the window again and knocked on the window, "Anthony! Wake up!" He didn't move. That was making me even more nervous. Blood loss, I concluded uneasily.

"I'm really sorry about this." I groaned, then bit my elbow and drew my elbow back, slamming it into the window. It cracked, but didn't break. I struck it a couple more times before the window shattered and the glass fell into Anthony's lap. Breathing hard, I reached inside and unlocked the car door, throwing it open. I quickly brushed the glass away, touching Anthony's shoulder and giving him a shake.

"Anthony, wake up," I pleaded, "Please. Come on, wake up." Anthony's head fell back against the seat, sending a bolt of panic through me before his eyelids slid open as if they were super heavy. His eyes searched the ceiling for a minute, his head lolling before turning to me. He smiled faintly.

"Hello." He murmured. I sighed in relief.

"Thank God. Okay, Anthony, I'm going to shut off your car and take you to the hospital, all right?" I asked. Anthony seemed vaguely confused by this, but he said nothing as I reached out and shut off the car, turning off the eerie Christmas music. I unbuckled his seatbelt and wedged my arms under him, making him frown curiously. I lifted him in my arms, stepping back through the snow, grimacing. This would be so much easier if there wasn't any goddamn snow.

"I'm moving to Arizona after this." I muttered, pushing my foot through the snow to kick Anthony's door shut. Anthony rested his head against my shoulder, blinking his eyes tiredly.

"Sorry." He mumbled. I frowned, tightening my grip around him.

"It's not your fault."

"Is to."

"You were drunk, Anthony. You didn't know what you were doing." I don't think saying that helped, though, because he flinched. I gave up on talking and just pushed back through the snow to my car. I opened the back seat door and laid him across the seat. I grabbed a couple Kleenexes from the box in my glove compartment and placed them to the wound in his forehead, placing his hand over them.

"Keep that there, Anthony. Can you do that?" I asked, watching him get that far away look on his face. He blinked a couple times before looking up at me.

"Do what?"

"Hold your hand over this. Don't move it, okay?"

"Okay." Anthony murmured. I nodded and quickly backed out of the car, slamming the door shut and getting behind the wheel. I backed up and drove as quickly, but carefully as I could toward the hospital. Apparently Anthony wasn't the only one in a car accident tonight either because two ambulences showed up with other people. I managed to get him into an emergency room before I went out to the waiting room, taking out my cell phone and calling Taylor.

"Tay?" I asked.

"Is he okay? Did you find him?" Taylor asked, concerned. I frowned, glancing toward the emergency room.

"Yeah, he was in a ditch somewhere," I said, unable to stop the venom in my voice at Taylor's earlier comment about it, "He might have a concussion, but I'm just guessing. I'm going to stay at the hospital with him, but you stay home. The roads are way too dangerous for you to go out."

"Tsk," Taylor sounded annoyed at first before his sigh rattled the receiver, "Fine, all right. Whatever. Call me when he gets out. I take it he's coming over after, huh?"

"No way in hell is he going to get home in this mess, so yeah. Sit tight. They'll probably keep him overnight and I'll stay with him."

"All right. Don't forget to call me when you guys leave, okay?"

"Got it. See ya later."

"Bye bye, and give Anthony my best."

"Whatever." I hung up and sighed, squeezing my eyes shut and running my hands through my hair before I plopped down into a seat in the waiting room. Talk about a stressful night. My chest still felt tight and achy as I wondered about Anthony in there. They were bound to find out he was drinking after testing him and they were going to tell the cops, no doubt. And judging from his history, I had a feeling they weren't going to let him off the hook with this one.

I groaned and slumped down in my seat, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. And how the hell was I going to pay for his bail if they threw him in the slammer? I didn't have that kind of money or anyway to get ahold of it.

"You got someone in there too?" I looked up to see a buff, ridiculously tall man with dark, unkept hair and icy blue eyes. I instantly recognized him as one of the men that Anthony had been spying on in the grocery store a while back, but I didn't let on that I knew him. I just nodded and he sighed, taking a seat beside me, shaking snowflakes from his hair, his cheeks flushed.

"Same here. Second time this month too. Take it from someone who knows, kid. If you ever have kids of your own, don't let them out during this kind of weather." He grunted. I frowned.

"Your kid?" I asked. He nodded, looking at the emergency doors nervously, his teeth biting into his lower lip before he shook his head and looked away.

"One of 'em. I was blessed with twins," He said sarcastically, making me smile uneasily, "One is responsible and knows better than to go out in this. The other one is reckless as all get-out. He thought he could make it to my house before the storm."

"Ouch... I'm sorry."

"Some people have to learn the hard way," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking his head again and holding his hand out to me, "Name's Ace, by the way. Ace Carter."

"Seth Rogers," I answered, shaking his hand before looking back at the emergency room nervously, "Uhm, my friend's in there. He was drunk too." Ace grimaced at that.

"I'm sorry. Do they know if he'll be all right?" He asked, concerned. I shrugged, fiddling with my cell phone, opening and closing it, bouncing my knee.

"I don't know... I mean, he probably will. He had a concussion, that much I could tell. His car fell into a ditch and he hit his head on the windshield." I admitted. Ace hissed past clenched teeth, reaching up to rub his own head, conveniently over the same place where Anthony had his wound.

"I know how that feels. Got in a pretty bad accident about a year ago... Course, it probably led to one of the greatest things in my life." He admitted, making me raised an eyebrow at that. He just smiled a little before we both looked up to see a man rushing into the ER. His dark hair was unruly from the wind, speckled with white snow flakes, his eyes flickering until they locked on Ace, who stood up.

"I got your message," The man said breathlessly as he ran up to Ace, his flushed face worried, "Is he all right?" Ace smiled and shamelessly took the man's hands in his tightly.

"They don't know yet, but... I think he'll be all right." He replied. The man sighed in relief and non-too-shyly stepped closer to Ace, who put an arm around him.

"Thank God. Rick thought I was insane when I ran out the door and almost fell."

"Jeez, Vic."

"I was scared! I told Danny it was a bad idea, but he wouldn't listen to me. I'm really sorry, Ace. This is my fault--"

"No," Ace insisted, "I told you, it's not your fault. Danny's a stubborn brat." Vic gave him a look that told him he definitely knew where Danny got it from. Ace wrinkled his nose at that before Vic smiled, then looked past him at me curiously. Ace gestured to me as I stood up.

"Vic, this is Seth. Kinda kept me company." He added, glancing at me thankfully. I smiled and shook Vic's hand. Vic tilted his head in sympathy.

"I hope whoever's in there with you is all right." He said.

"Thanks," I responded gratefully, tucking my cell phone away and shifting a bit before sitting back down, "I think he'll be fine... Well, medically anyway." Vic frowned at that and Ace sighed.

"His friend was drunk driving." He answered. Vic grimaced.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I answered at first, then changed my mind and shook my head, "No, it's not. I shouldn't have called him. He was drunk when we talked on the phone and I told him I would come get him, but he didn't want me to come over, so he left by himself."

"It's not your fault," Ace said gently, sitting down beside me, "He shouldn't have been drinking in the first place."

"Does he do that often?" Vic asked, eyeing me closely. I frowned, peering past my hands that I had clasped over my nose and mouth before I dropped my arms to rest on my knees.

"Yeah," I confessed nervously, "My brother says he's like the town drunk or something." Vic's eyes widened.

"You're talking about Anthony?" He asked, stunned. Ace paled.

"Stewart? Anthony Stewart?" He asked in disbelief. I frowned, looking at them. I already figured they knew him from the way Anthony had been watching them in the store, but I wasn't sure if I should let on. He looked like he had been hiding from them. And I could distinctly remember the pain on his face when he watched them. Had he loved one of them? For some reason, that made me hot with jealousy, but I swallowed it down before nodding slowly.

"That doesn't surprise me at all then," Ace muttered, leaning back in his seat to fold his arms over his chest, "He's always drunk. I don't think there's a time we've met that he hasn't been drunk."

"Ace," Vic warned, making Ace hold his hands up in defense before folding them again, letting Vic turn to face me again, "I'm sorry, but how do you know Anthony?" Why lie to them? Anthony was far more than a friend to me, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

"We're dating." I stated. Ace choked at that, coughing and clearing his throat. Vic glared at him, then looked at me, genuinely surprised.

"You are? He didn't mention anyone he was dating."

"He's in denial." I replied flatly. Vic hesitated at that and Ace still looked like I had just told him that unicorns were taking over the planet with Swiss army knives.

"He's not a bad person..." I started, but Ace scoffed, much to my surprise. Talk about bipolar. He went from polite to rude in about ten minutes flat.

"Please, don't even get yourself mixed up with that guy," He retorted, getting to his feet, "He's a self-centered jerk that refuses to get himself some help."

"Ace," Vic said again in a strained tone, "Could you go grab us some coffee from the cafeteria? I'll wait here." Ace frowned at that, but obeyed anyway, leaving Vic and I alone. My eyes followed Ace in irritation before I looked back at Vic.

"Anthony is not a jerk." I answered coldly. Vic nodded and took Ace's seat beside me, facing me with his head tilted.

"I know. You'll have to forgive Ace. His temper's kinda iffy. Uhm, Anthony and I had a really bad falling out one time and Ace won't let it go, so I apologize for his behavior... But, just out of curiosity, how did you get together with Anthony? I really want to know how he's doing, but he won't really tell me and when I try to ask him, I know he's lying to me when he says he's fine." He explained, his dark eyes expressing concern. I hesitated at that. What did he mean by bad falling out? I wanted to ask him, but I knew that Anthony wouldn't appreciate me being nosy without his permission, so I ignored that part.

"My brother, Taylor, introduced me to him. I guess you can say I'm kind of bugging him. He won't admit we're dating, but we've gone out together a few times." I replied. Vic smiled at that.

"You're the one bugging him?" He asked. I frowned.

"Yeah, why?"

"Usually he's the one chasing after people."

"That's hard to believe," I admitted, still frowning at the thought of Anthony ever being a puppy dog, "Maybe I just caught him while he was in the process of giving up." Vic's smile melted and he looked sad.

"I didn't really think he was the type to give up, but then, I didn't get the chance to know him too well. He sort of made a mistake that's hard to forgive." He said softly, reaching up to brush the damp hair back out of his face. I looked away at that, getting even more curious about it, but again, I rather hear it from Anthony than anyone else.

"Is there a Mr. Seth Rogers here?" A doctor asked, walking out from the room. I got to my feet instantly, Vic following me.

"Yes, I'm here." I said quickly. The doctor frowned, approaching me and giving me a once over as if he was wondering if I was legit or not before he looked down at his clipboard.

"You brought in Anthony Stewart from a car accident on East Main?"

"Yes."

"All right," The doctor sighed, then continued, "He does have a slight concussion. Unfortunately, there was a very high alcohol level in his system. The fact that his liver isn't shot is a miracle. We've put him on dialysis to clean his system. We've diagnosed his problem as alcohol poisoning as he began to seize when we laid him out on the table. He's showing all the classic symptoms and we're required to keep him for twenty-four hours under constant watch. After that, well... It's up to the authorities." My stomach shrank at that.

"But... He's got points against him. The cops'll probably throw him in jail." I managed. The doctor gazed at me for a moment, then sighed.

"It might be good for him. They could get him help--"

"He's gone to AA before. I think he said, like, twice he's had to go to year long sessions? But it doesn't do anything."

"Mr. Rogers," The doctor began in a chiding tone that actually annoyed me, "AA is just the name of the treatment. It gives him a chance to help himself."

"He doesn't want to." I answered. The doctor hesitated at that, frowning.

"Has he ever spoken about death or suicide or hurting himself?" He asked. I blinked and let that sink in before I shook my head slowly, then quickly.

"Of course not! Anthony wouldn't want to kill himself, he--"

"Seth, it's all right," Vic said gently, then turned to the doctor, who still looked concerned, "We understood. Is it all right if he can go in and see him?" The doctor looked uncomfortable at that before nodding reluctantly. I left Vic behind to wait for Ace as I followed the doctor through a long hallway with doors closed off for surgery before we came to the emergency patient rooms.

The moment I walked in Anthony's room, my heart felt it like was breaking up into tiny pieces.

He looked so frail and weak, still unbelievably pale as he laid on the bed, his eyes closed and an oxygen mask on his face. He was hooked up to countless machines, his heart monitor jumping every so often. A nurse stayed nearby, sitting down as she watched him and wrote things down on occasion. The doctor and nurse left me alone with him, though, leaving the door partially open before they left.

"Anthony?" I managed nervously, approaching the bedside. Anthony didn't respond, just laid there. I wasn't used to him being this quiet. While he wasn't one to go flaunting his pain or history, he wasn't normally so quiet either. He was at least talking about something. I reached out carefully, touching his fingers before lacing my fingers tightly with his. That seemed to wake him up, his eyes fluttering open tiredly.

He looked confused and dazed, eyes searching the room until they found me and I felt him releax.

"Seth?" He croaked, then coughed into the oxygen mask weakly. I grimaced, clasping my hands around his.

"Hey, it's all right. You don't have to talk anymore... I just wanted to know if you were... Well, I'm going to stay here with you," I promised, watching him look at me in surprise, "I won't leave you alone, Anthony, okay? I'll stay here overnight and we can talk when you feel better. The doctors said they have to keep you overnight. Uhm, they put you on dialysis. They're cleaning the alcohol out of your system." He didn't seem to quite comprehend what I was saying until he saw the machines around him as if he were seeing them for the first time. His heart monitor jumped, making me wince as he looked panicky.

"What? Wait, how did I get in the hospital? What happened?" He managed shakily, grabbing at the sheets in alarm.

"Anthony, calm down," I coaxed gently, "Please don't stress yourself out... Your car ended up in a ditch, but you just have a concussion--"

"T-Then why am I on dialysis? What're all these tubes for?"

"Anthony, the doctor said something about alcohol poisoning. The fact that I brought you into the hospital at the right time was a miracle," I added, watching Anthony go still, "You could've killed yourself." Anthony stared straight ahead as if he were having trouble letting that sink in before he slumped against the pillow.

"So... What? You brought me to the hospital and saved me? What do you want?" His tone was so bitter it caught me off guard.

"Nothing," I answered in surprise, "I just... You scared the hell out of me." Now it was Anthony's turn to look caught off guard.

"I did?" He asked, confused. I tightened my grip around his hand, gritting my teeth for a second as the doctor's words from before went through my head like a bolt of ice.

"Has he ever spoken about death or suicide or hurting himself?"

It made me feel cold inside, but I don't think it could be any colder than how Anthony felt. I understood now why his tone had been so bitter, why he was mad at me for bringing him here. I leaned forward and pulled Anthony into my arms gently, making him gasp in surprise.

"Yes, and don't ever, ever do something that stupid again. I'm taking you home with me after this and you're going to get used to drinking something else. I'll buy any type of juice or flavored water or tea, whatever. Something else. Find something else to drink. And stop acting like I shouldn't have saved you. I had plenty of reason to save you, Anthony." I said, surprised at how my voice was shaking.

I recognized this feeling all too well. Knowing that someone was purposely trying to leave the world because they couldn't take it anymore. They couldn't stand putting up with the loneliness, the pain, the darkness that seemed to just close in on you as if you were trapped inside a box and could never escape. I felt pain ripping through me as I tightened my grip on Anthony, shutting my eyes tightly.

"I'm not going to let you leave, do you understand me? You don't have to run after people anymore and hope they look at you because I'm right here, all right? I'll be right here for you every step of the way. I give you my word, Anthony, I promise-- I swear. I'll be here for you whenever you need me. You're not alone anymore, okay?" I asked. I listened to Anthony breathing for a second before he buried his face against my neck, gripping me to him tightly.

I sighed in relief and held onto him, feeling his shoulders tremble. I had no idea how long I held him there, but I didn't care. I could hold him forever.

No, I would hold him forever.

I wasn't going to be like everyone else and give up on him.

I was going to be there every step of the way. No matter how stubborn he wanted to be, I would give him plenty of reason to stay here and to stay with me. And it took me a full moment to realize why I felt so strongly about this, about Anthony.

"Jesus, Anthony, I love you." I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and burying my face against him to inhale every essence of him. He shook even harder and I didn't let go, not even when the nurse came in to tell me I should eat before leaving.

I wasn't hungry and I wasn't leaving. I promised Anthony I would stay here with him.

And so I would stay with him.