Avery's Desire Pt. 13

It was probably for the best anyway. Let him rest as long as he could. God only knows how hard it was going to be for him to face what happened when he did wake. Rick knew that Avery was strong, but how strong was he really? Was he going to be able to recover this time, or was this assault going to be the thing that finally breaks him?

A deep, unrelenting rage fill Rick's heart and head as he walked down the busy corridor. He wanted to find Mikey and he wanted to kill him. He was well aware of the repercussions of that act, and he also knew that his being in prison wouldn't help Avery in the slightest. Still, he couldn't let Mikey get by with what he'd done, and his faith in the police just wasn't there. Mikey was notorious for getting away with murder, and this time he almost had.

Boomer and the others had been trying for hours to make Rick go home and sleep. He'd finally agreed though he wasn't really sure how much sleep he was actually going to get. His mind was flooded with images of Avery, the pained expression on his face, and the taunting glare of the man who'd nearly killed him.

Boomer suggested that Rick go back to his place but Rick really didn't want to be around anyone else for the time being. He decided to return to the apartment that he and Avery shared, the place where the assault had begun. A clean up crew was supposed to have gone in and cleaned up all of the blood and broken furniture. Rick seriously hoped that they had gotten everything, because he just didn't think he could deal with seeing what was left of the aftermath of the assault. It would only make the events of the previous night more real to him, and further fuel his anger.

He pushed the door open slowly, and peered into the dark and empty room. The eerie quietness of the room left him with a stabbing pain in his gut. His heart sank and his eyes welled with tears. So many times he had walked through that very door and felt such an immense joy that it filled his heart to the point of exploding. Memories of laughter echoed throughout his mind. This was the place where love resided, where friends came together to enjoy each others company and to enjoy life. This was the place where he'd first confessed his love for Avery, and the place where they'd first made love.

This apartment was the place where his life had truly begun, but suddenly he felt as if that life were now crashing down around him. Rick couldn't imagine his life without Avery in it and he prayed to what ever God was listening that he would never have to bear that kind of pain. What he felt at that very moment was bad enough. If Avery died, Rick was certain that he would lose his mind.

He stood in the open doorway for sometime before getting up the nerve to walk inside. The apartment felt like a tomb. There were no happy feelings when he stepped into the living room. Only the dread and fear he's felt that night when he came home and saw the blood and the debris from the struggle, and then realized that the love of his life was missing.

"Is there any word on him?"

Startled, Rick turned around and saw Avery's neighbor, Mrs. Nealson, standing behind him on the walkway between apartments. Mrs. Nealson was a short but frail older woman in her early to mid seventies. A retired school teacher she was both kind and also a bit strict. She approached life with a level head and calm disposition, taking each hardship as it came her way, grasping it in her tiny hands, and forcing it into submission. 'You have to take the bull by the horns.' She'd said to both men on many different occasions. 'Stare fate in the eye and tell it to back the hell off!'

Rick liked the old woman. He liked the way she took charge of any situation, and the way that she never let anything get her down. She'd had her share of misfortunes, that was for sure. She lost a child early on in her marriage thanks to a drunk driver, and she'd buried three husbands. She lost her house a few years back and was forced to move into the smaller, less expensive apartment that she now occupied, and as far as Rick knew, none of her remaining children ever came by to check on her.

Avery had unofficially adopted her as his grandmother and would go over to help her out with small things quite often, and his kindness was something that she would not soon forget.

"He's in the hospital." Rick told her. "He's in critical condition, still unconscious. I've been with him all afternoon. The doctors aren't sure when or if he will wake up, but he has a lot of supporters who are pulling for him. I think, as long as he knows that he's loved, and that he's not alone, he'll pull through."

"Bless his heat." Mrs. Nealson looked down sadly. "Who would do such a thing, and to such a sweet young man. Avery could never hurt a fly, so why would anyone want to hurt him?"

Rick shook his head. "There are sick people in the world." He didn't feel the need to give her all the details of the case, though he was fairly certain that she knew of Avery's sexual orientation, but it was just something that she never seemed to care about, or at the very least, to care enough to talk about.

"Well, I'll keep you both in my prayers." She gave Rick a reassuring pat on the back. He thanked her and then watched as she hobbled back into her own apartment.

"You are loved Avery." Rick whispered softly. "You are very much loved."

The rest of the apartment was as cold and uninviting as the living room. To Rick's relief though, there was no signs of the struggle that had taken place. The blood was gone, the mess from the broken table had been cleaned up. Even the bed was neatly made and the bedroom straightened up. The cleaning crew really did a great job but even their attempts at creating a cozy and welcoming environment was done in vain. Until Avery came home, safe, and back to his old self, Rick wasn't going to feel at home. He just couldn't bring himself to enjoy the pleasantries of life while Avery was laying in a hospital bed, battered and unconscious.

Rick walked down the hallway, past the kitchen with just a quick glance to see that the mess had been cleared away. He couldn't bring himself to actually walk into that room yet though. According to Hanson, Avery was likely in the kitchen when he was knocked out and taken from the apartment. Knowing that the kitchen was the room where Avery had suffered the most was enough of a deterrent to keep Rick from entering it. Rick didn't believe in the supernatural. He wasn't a religious person, he wasn't even a spiritual one, but there was just something about that room that sent chills up his spine. There was an energy in there, a negative energy, and he didn't want any part of it.

Entering the bedroom, he found himself retracing Avery's actions with his mind. He had been near the window, probably scared and trying to get away from Mikey. The bat was there, leaned against the wall, though it was later found in the kitchen. Avery had probably tried to fight Mikey off with the bat but had it used against him instead. That made sense Rick guessed. Mikey was bigger and stronger than Avery. Avery wouldn't have been able to hold his own for long, but he wasn't a coward so he would have gone down fighting.

As the fight continued across the road and spilled on the bed Avery most likely found an opportunity to escape and so he made a run for it. His bloody hand prints led a trail from the bedroom to the kitchen where he was again accosted only by then he was too weak to fight back anymore and was quickly overcome. Of course this was all theory based on what Rick had pieced together as well as the report he'd gotten from the responding officers and Hanson.

Mikey and Avery were the only ones who really knew what happened and until Avery was awake and able to fill in the gaps, the true events of that night would remain a mystery. What bothered Rick the most was how Mikey had gotten into the apartment to begin with. There were no signs of forced entry so it was unlikely that Mikey had broken in. Had Avery let him in intentionally? Had he perhaps fallen for Mikey's charm or a false promise to keep his distance if Avery would take the time to talk with him? That was entirely possible.

Avery wanted to see the good in everybody and he would be the first one to offer forgiveness if he thought Mikey was sincere. Though, it was also entirely possible that Avery had just forgotten to lock the door again and Mikey took the opportunity to let himself in, with Avery unaware of his presence until it was too late.

When Rick walked into the bedroom a heavy, suffocating, weight suddenly came upon him. It so oppressive that for a brief moment he felt as if he couldn't breathe at all. It was like drowning, he thought. This fear had gripped him as he felt himself sinking, the air ripped from his lungs, his balance gone as he grabbed onto the side of the desk to keep himself from falling over. Maybe, he wondered, this was what it felt like to be close to death. Maybe, this was what Avery felt, as he lay there, bleeding, on the steps of the hospital, before anyone had finally found him and brought him inside.

Once again that familiar rage crept up and gripped him hard around the throat choking the life out of him. Once again, Rick thought of taking Mikey by the throat and doing the same to him. "You're not helping anyone with those thoughts." Rick said aloud to the empty room. " Especially not helping Avery." Rick knew that Avery wouldn't want him to go after Mikey. Not because Avery cared about what happened to Mikey, but because he cared about what happened to Rick. That was the only thing that kept Rick from grabbing that bat and bashing the bastards head in. Rick wanted to be there for Avery, he needed to be. So that meant keeping his ass out of prison.

Rick pulled out the desk chair and seated himself in it as he turned on Avery's lap top computer. All thoughts of revenge aside, Rick had a purpose for returning to the apartment. He'd debated for a long time about what he was about to do. Was it the right thing? Would it even matter? Would Avery possibly be angry with him even? All good questions but the answers alluded him. finally, after much consideration, he decided that even if it didn't matter, even if they didn't care, Rick at least had to make an effort to reach out and let them know. Avery was their son after all, and he needed his family. Even if they didn't respond, Rick at least had to try.

He opened Avery's directory and looked up his parents home phone number. Taking a deep breath, Rick dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up.

A loud, constant, beating sound, like that of the drummer boys once used to steadily sound out the coming of an impending battle, pounded in his ears. After hearing the sound for so long, he finally realized that what he was hearing, was the sound of his own heart. That was the first thing he heard. It was soft at first, like something far off in the distance, but over time, it became so loud that the noise of it filled the room.

At first he thought that he was dreaming. Everything seemed like a dream actually. The voices that he eventually began to hear, though he couldn't make out what they were saying or who was speaking, the sounds of footfalls as people walked around him. It was all so surreal, but the sounds were becoming deafening. That's when he knew that it was real.

He couldn't see anything, the world was dark, but maybe that was just because his eyes were still closed. He didn't even have the strength the open them though he didn't think it really mattered. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to see anything even if they were open. He couldn't feel anything at all either. That was the next thing that he noticed. It was almost as if his body were not there. Only his mind was there, though he had no idea where 'there' even was.

He strained his ears, hoping to pick out more of the voices. He wanted to know what they were saying. Maybe if he could understand them, it would give him some indication of where he was and what was going on. The more he concentrated the better he was able to pick out different little sounds, though he wasn't entirely sure what they were. He figured that he was in a room, probably in a bed, but how or why he was there he wasn't sure about. He also didn't think that he was alone. There was always someone there. He could hear them walking around him, moving things around. A few times he heard what sounded like a woman laughing, but the one voice that really stood out to him was a male voice.

The voice was familiar but even so, he just couldn't put a name to it. He'd heard this voice before though, and he noticed that this particular voice was always the one closest to him. At one point he even thought he heard the voice crying. It was so close, right next to his ear, and it made his heart pound faster. 'Don't cry.' He wanted to whisper to the man who owned the voice. 'It's going to be okay, please don't cry.' He tried to say it, to say anything really, but he couldn't move his mouth.

Even though it upset him to hear the man crying, there was something comforting in that voice. He liked hearing it. He wanted to open his eyes and look at the man who was speaking, but that too was something he was unable to do. It made him feel good though, just to lay there and hear the soft, whispered hum of the mans voice. He could rest easier knowing that he was near by. But then, the voice drifted farther and farther away, until it was gone. He lay there for the longest time, straining to hear that voice once more only to feel the pangs of disappointment when he realized that for the first time since he began to hear the voices, the one he really wanted to hear was not there.

This strange kind of semi-conscious, reality had become his reality now. Faceless, disembodied voices, heavy footsteps, loud booms and bangs that he wasn't entirely sure were even real or just something he'd imagined. Maybe he'd imagined everything, even the voices. Maybe nothing was real anymore. He didn't feel real. Maybe he was dead. That was a frightening thought. For the first time since, well since as far back as his memory went (which wasn't very far), he felt real panic.

What if he was dead? What if the voices he'd heard were just voices of other spirits floating around aimlessly trying desperately to latch onto some semblance of the life that they were so cruelly ripped away from. Is that what had happened to him? Had he met some untimely end and now, he was just one of those aimless, wandering souls?

'No!' He thought. 'I can't die now. I can't leave...him.' The voice, the man he'd heard earlier. He realized then that the voice he'd heard was familiar to him because he knew the owner of that voice on a very personal and intimate level. He knew him, and he loved him. 'I'm not dead.' He told himself, 'I know that because I know that one voice at least is real, and I have to find my way back to him.'

If he were able to cry, he would. If he were able to speak, he'd cry out, and if he were able to get up out of that bed he would run into the arms of the one he loved and never let him go.

"Come back to me." The voice had whispered once. At the time he didn't understand but now a sense of clarity was beginning to wash over him.

'I hear you.' He thought, as a sort of calm washed over him. 'I hear you, and I'll find my way back to you, I promise.'

"I called you because he's your son!" Rick tried to keep his voice down but he was growing more and more frustrated with each passing minute. "I just figured you'd want to know that your son is in the hospital fighting for his life." Rick lit a cigarette, taking a long, deep drag off it. He blew a halo of smoke into the air and sighed.

"No, I'm not asking for money. I just called as a common courtesy to let you know what happened. What you do now is entirely up to you." He shook his head. He was angry but he didn't want to start trouble with Avery's family. He honestly had no idea that his parents would be so callous over the condition of their child. Avery had always said that they were cold and uncaring people but Rick had just thought that Avery was exaggerating. He saw now that everything Avery had told him was true.

"No, He's still unconscious but I just thought...well yes I understand that but...I see. Yes sir, I do understand but regardless he is still your son and I don't know, I just thought that maybe if you and his mother came out here..." Rick ran a hand through his hair. This was going no where and for the life of him, he just didn't know how to get through to these people. "I don't believe that my relationship with Avery has anything to do with this. No sir, I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but I know that it would help him if you...Really?" Rick raised an eyebrow as he smashed his cigarette out in the ask tray then leaned back in the chair, gritting his teeth.

Rick had had enough of this guy. He'd had enough of a lot of things but Avery's father had literally pushed every single button that Rick had left. "No disrespect Mr. Dupree, but what the fuck is wrong with you?" Rick had reached the end of his rope and he just couldn't hold back any longer. The rage that had been building up over the past few weeks had finally reached its boiling point and there was just no going back now. "I get it that you're upset over Avery's lifestyle choice but for Gods sake, he's your kid! What kind of parent just walks away and turns their back on their own child? Especially at a time like this!

No, I will not calm down! Don't you care that he might die? Don't you even care that you might never have another opportunity to see him again? When my parents were killed I was so messed up that I could barely go on living and every single day of my life the thing that I regret the most was that I wasn't there, I wasn't able to hold their hands, or tell them good-bye. I wasn't able to tell them that I loved them. My parents died alone and I would give everything I have to just have one more day with them.

But Avery is still alive, he's laying in a hospital bed fighting for his life, but you still have a chance to see him. You have that chance to hold his hand and let him know that you're there for him, but you'd rather hold onto to some stupid petty grudge and why? Because he wasn't the man you hoped he'd turn out to be? Well let me tell you something dude, Avery may not be who you wanted him to be but he is still one of the best men that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

He is kind, and loving, and loyal to a fault! He's always been there for his friends when they needed him. He goes above and beyond to help people, even strangers. he's smart and talented, and he's more of a man then you will ever be! Avery doesn't deserve the shit that's been thrown at him. He doesn't deserve to be treated like a piece of shit by you or anyone else. So he's gay, so fucking what! He's still a fucking human being and he deserves to be treated like one. He certainly doesn't deserve to have such evil fucking assholes for parents either!

You want to just write him off and pretend that he doesn't exist to you anymore, that's fine. I actually thought that you would care but I guess I was wrong. As far as I'm concerned you're no better than the bastard that put him in the hospital to begin with. I sincerely hope that you're at peace with the choices you've made because if you leave things between you and Avery the way they are and he dies, that's something you'll have to live with the rest of your miserable life!"

Rick disconnected the call then slammed the phone back down on the table. "Fucking jackass!" he growled.

The room seemed eerily quiet after that call. It gave Rick the chills. He quickly turned on the stereo in an attempt to cut out the quiet and drown out the sound of his heart racing. He'd definitely felt a rush of adrenaline while he ranted to Avery's father. In all honestly, he was glad that he was only on the phone and not face to face with the jerk. He might have actually punched him.