Archive of Our Own

1981, Autumn

Today was Whizzer’s funeral.

Marvin wasn’t sure the last time he had cried this hard. He had wept on and off for the weeks leading to this day, sobbing through Whizzer’s rapid deterioration, but he always ended up switching back into ‘work mode’, or something of the sort. Regardless of what he called it, he would force a happy face for Whizzer, and work hard to take as good care of him as possible, as well as keep him happy - as happy as he could be in the hospital bed he had been bound to. On top of that, he worked just as hard to try and keep Jason calm. The kid couldn’t handle anything that was happening, and Marvin didn’t blame him.

He thought of everything to keep everyone as comfortable as they possibly could be with the unfortunate circumstances. He used all his paid vacation time to look after Whizzer, his work agreeing to put it under extended leave. He didn’t tell them specifics. His workplace was under the impression that he was taking care of his lover, which was true. Though, they thought his lover was a woman.

Aside from all that, he would have to go back to work now. Whizzer was gone, so it was back to his 9-5 if he could manage - but that was the least of his concern.

The funeral had ended, Marvin had spoken - for probably too long - and now he was crying harder than he thought possible. The funeral venue was practically empty now, Jason having been dragged and pried off Marvin by a both physically and emotionally exhausted Trina. Trina had held Marvin while he sobbed. It was nice, it was great, even. They may not be in love, and there may be a slight grudge the two held against each other, but at the end of the day they couldn’t deny how much they cared about one another. It was impossible not to given everything they had been through. It was nice to be held by someone who had known him for so long. Now Trina would have to hold Jason.

Charlotte and Cordelia assured that he could come spend the night if it was too hard to be alone, but he turned them down. In fact, there was nothing more he wanted than to be alone, basking in the last place he had seen Whizzer happy and healthy, trying his best to embrace any lingering parts of his late lover. He felt sick thinking of him and Whizzer getting changed to go play racquetball. Marvin even looked at Whizzer, looked and asked how he’d gotten so thin. Whizzer just brushed it off and rolled his eyes, so Marvin concluded it was nothing. If only it had been nothing.

Now, Marvin continued to shed tears in his chair, like a small child throwing an all too long and loud tantrum, rendering himself dizzy from dehydration and breathlessness. This couldn’t be healthy. He found he didn’t care all that much despite the fact. He couldn’t even tell what he was crying over at this point. Sure, he was already inconsolable from what had already happened. He watched the love of his life deteriorate rapidly before his eyes - with a virus no one knew a thing about - while Marvin had to just sit hopelessly, with no way to help. It was near impossible to not feel nauseous thinking of the way Whizzer’s body gave out, going limp in Marvin’s arms at the Bar Mitzvah.

Though now, Marvin found himself more concerned with what was yet to come rather than everything that had already transpired. Soon enough, he wouldn’t be speaking at a funeral, watching a casket getting lowered. Rather, it would be him being spoken about reminiscently and lowered into the ground. Marvin already ensured to buy a plot of land big enough that when he passed he could rest next to Whizzer, he just didn’t think that it would be used so soon.

All he knew about the virus was about the same as everyone else knew: There was no cure, it seemed to be transmitted from gay sex, and having it was a certified stamp from death himself. Jason could barely cope with the loss of Whizzer. How would he react to Marvin passing when he eventually succumbed to the slowly-developing virus that coursed through his body?

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, half hoping it would be Whizzer, ready to take him home. He’d smile down at him and spin his car keys around his pointer finger in a few little circles before tugging him up, then making some snarky remark about how much of a sad-sack he was being. Alas, to his dismay, it wasn’t Whizzer. Someone who resembled him though, an older lady looked down at him with a concerned look and a sad smile.

“Hello, young man.”

Marvin hadn’t been called ‘young man’ since he was around 14. It was both comforting and strange to hear. He sniffled and wiped his face, trying to prime himself to croak out a response, but before he could:

“You were Whizzer’s friend?”

She asked. Her voice made it clear she had been crying, but she still managed to sound kind and polite, and a little like Whizzer after either he or Marvin came home from a hard day at work and they decided to spend the evening comforting each other. Marvin took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hands once more. He nodded, eyes shut. He had given up on the prospect of forcing out his voice - he knew he’d have to, but not quite yet.

He looked up at the older lady and darted his eyes around, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. His eyes caught sight of two more people, standing in a little cluster, seemingly waiting on her. Her family.

“You seemed like you meant a lot to him.”

She said, rubbing little circles in his shoulder and upper back as she turned her body to sit next to him. Marvin nodded, his eyes now wide open to avoid letting the tears that had since welled up, fall down his face again. If Whizzer were here, he’d spout some blather about how tears were bad for your complexion. Something like that, yeah. He wouldn’t be surprised if he got permanently marked with tear stains and burns - like Whizzer had told him was possible. Marvin managed to finally squeeze a response out of his shaking chest.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“I’m his mother. It’s nice to meet you.” She paused and looked down at her lap, a brief moment of awkward silence queuing before she looked back up at the weeping man. “Marvin, it was?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Nice to meet you. I’m Ms Brown.”

She smiled at Marvin, as if amused. She turned to the other two - the rest of Whizzer’s family - and beckoned them over. They all walked over. Marvin felt nervous, and the lump in his throat returned as his eyes and brain seemed to involuntarily work together to discover which feature of Whizzer resembled which of his family’s. Whizzer’s dad looked quite a bit older and had a soft face and expression. Whizzer got more from his mother, her features were just that bit sharper and angular. Especially the nose, it was almost exactly the same. He held out his hand to shake the hands that were offered to him one by one.

“Mr Brown.” Marvin said with a forced smile.

“Marvin. Marvin Gardens, it was?”

Marvin continued on with his weak smile and nodded. He didn’t know why he had chosen to put on a happy face, but he continued on with it. Whizzer’s sister barely spoke a word. She seemed just as upset as Marvin. He gave her a sad smile and she returned with one, equally as upset. They all broke into small talk, conversations that would serve no purpose than to fill the empty air and connect them to others that knew Whizzer.

After a while of talking, they all fell silent. Ms Brown was the one to break the silence.

“Marvin…” Ms Brown sighed with a smile. She clearly found Marvin incredibly endearing, purely from his association with Whizzer.

“Marvin, you should come over for dinner. That would be lovely.”

She said, and Marvin thought about this for a second. He wasn’t sure what exactly this implied. Did this mean they knew he was Whizzer’s boyfriend? Or did they just want to feel connected to their son through someone who had seen him recently? Either way, Marvin was skeptical. Whizzer’s parents seemed nice enough, but then again, most people who came across Marvin’s family thought they were lovely, despite the horrid things that happened behind closed doors. Though, when Marvin looked at Ms Brown, he didn’t feel scared. No racing heart, no pit in his stomach. So he accepted.

“That sounds like a plan.” He replied.

Ms Brown clasped her hands together happily and gave Marvin a smile. He returned it almost involuntarily. She was like Whizzer in that sense, just brightened up a room from being there and being himself. Marvin needed to stop connecting everything around him back to Whizzer, urgently. It wasn’t necessarily unhealthy, but it definitely wasn’t a great habit to fall into. Who knew what weird things could come out of his mouth if he carried on like that?

“Oh, goodie! I’ll write down our address for you. You can help us go through Whizzer’s old things.”

She said, her voice light and excited. Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Honey, maybe we shouldn’t put this much on Marvin. He’ll be our guest, after all.”

Considerate of him, just like Whizzer. No, not like Whizzer. Like a person who just happens to be considerate, a trait a lot of people have. Marvin shook his head and smiled.

“I’d love to help, don’t worry.” He reassured.

He had definitely calmed down from his tears now, just from talking with the family. But he was ready to go home, he was feeling quite drained. He watched Ms Brown scribble her address onto a scrap piece of paper. Marvin let his mind wander, trying to figure out where she’d retrieved the pen and paper. Either way, it didn't matter. There was now a piece of paper being put into his hand. He smiled and nodded.

“I’ll come around, let’s say, next week?” He suggested.

Ms Brown nodded happily and looked to her husband for approval. He nodded and served Marvin a sad, sweet smile. Sad smiles all around, they were all going through the same thing. The idea of Marvin coming over didn’t seem to bother them at all, much to his relief. He would hate to feel like he was invading on a poor mourning family. Maybe this would do him some good though. Clear his mind, form more connections with others and whatnot.

1983, Spring

It had been a little less than 2 years since then. Whizzer was long gone, and Marvin was just barely pushing through each day at this point. When Charlotte had first pulled him out of Whizzer’s hospital room to tell him he very likely had the same thing as Whizzer, Marvin didn’t believe her. Or, more specifically, he didn’t want to believe her. Though the test results made it plain as day. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, HIV positive. He would develop AIDS, just like Whizzer. Charlotte assured Marvin that they were looking for medicine and a definitive cure. He overheard her speaking to another doctor though. By the time it would be found, it’d be far too late for Marvin.

Despite this, Marvin promised himself that he wouldn’t tie himself to a hospital bed until he absolutely had to. If he was now on a time limit, he might as well make the absolute most of the time he had while being healthy. Or maybe healthy wasn’t the word. More like ‘functional’, as strange as that sounded. It made him sound like a robot or a machine, but he couldn’t just keel over and wait for the illness to take him over entirely. It wasn’t worth it, not at all. He had friends, a son and - more or less - a family he could spend time with. Even moreso, he had gained a connection with Whizzer’s family too. He had so many people to appreciate and spend time with, so that’s what he would do.

In an attempt to calm his nerves, or at least, give him more information on what Marvin had to anticipate, Charlotte ended up telling Marvin a lot more to do with his newfound diagnosis. The one that stuck with him was that, although it would be a slow and long process, he would eventually get to the same point as Whizzer. Once again though, initially, he didn’t really believe her. But now, as the days passed him by, he was realising that she was probably right.

He wanted to ignore them, but the symptoms were undeniably getting worse. He was never much of a hypochondriac, but now he policed his symptoms constantly. The slightest stomach ache could send him panicking. As of recently, he was being plagued with fevers and chills and his body was starting to hurt all over. It wasn’t great, especially because Marvin knew exactly what it was. He couldn’t write it off as a common cold, saying ‘oh it’s fine’ before popping an Advil. No, he didn’t have that privilege anymore, that luxury of not having to give a second thought to his health. Ignorance truly was bliss.

He was running out of time. He had to tell Jason still, and Trina and Mendel. That would be hard - but he wanted to do it soon. Maybe then Trina would let Jason spend weekdays at Marvin’s, at least a little more often. It wasn’t like Marvin lived far from Jason’s school, he could drive him there and pick him up too. He wouldn’t even need to catch the bus - which he always detested so strongly. Though, Marvin didn’t want Jason to feel forced to hang around him.

Jason was 14 now - almost 15. He was having his classic teenage phases now. Finding Marvin and Trina - and even Mendel - to be some of the most embarrassing people ever, going out with friends on his own and shutting himself off in his room. Jason always enjoyed his alone time, so that one wasn’t surprising.

When reflecting on what he - Marvin - had been like at 14, he thinks that Jason isn’t that worst teenager out there. Marvin was probably one of the worst behaved teenagers out there. It wasn’t without reason - he was the stereotypical ‘abused and neglected kid acting out for attention’ case. Through his reflection though, he can’t help but feel like he’d be a burden to his son’s life. Marvin at that age would’ve thrown a fit at the idea of living with a father like the man Marvin had become. Some sad, sick, man in his 40s whose lover had already passed on, and was now clinging onto his son as his last shred of family and familiarity.

Marvin liked to think that wasn’t all he was. He could still laugh and have fun and do things. He cooked and he cleaned and he went on walks and even sometimes ate dinner with Charlotte and Cordelia, or Whizzer’s parents every few months. They liked having him around. Ms Brown would always smile and laugh at Marvin’s jokes and say things like ‘Whizzer would’ve lost it at that one, oh Marvin!’. They were the same in that way - connecting every little thing to Whizzer.

What else did he do? Oh, yes. He was trying to teach Jason how to get better at baseball - however, it was more like Marvin was learning and Jason was the teacher. It was great fun though. Aside from that, he got to have his parenting and teaching moments in other ways. He helped Jason with homework - he was passionate about the subjects Jason found boring, like biology. But despite all this, he recognised that in some ways, the idea of a sad, lonely, nearly desperate man seemed to capture his essence.

He’d be able to deny that fact tonight though. He was invited to have dinner with Whizzer's parents. First time in a few months. Last time he went, he had brought Jason. They adored him - obviously, Jason was just that easy to adore, really. He had to tell Jason to not give away that he and Whizzer were together romantically - which restricted a lot of Jason’s initial conversation contributions - though he quickly warmed up to the old couple and had as much fun as you could have being a teenage boy surrounded by fully grown adults.

The first time he went, Whizzer’s sister was there. She was a couple years older than Whizzer. After they ate, she managed to drag him away from her parents and to Whizzer’s old room. The two were going through some of Whizzer’s old things before she turned to him, her face serious. She was holding a photo album, decorated and filled page to page with photos of her and Whizzer. There were photos from all sorts of times in their lives. Before, when and after Whizzer was born, his childhood years, teen years, and most of all, just the two growing up together. It was sweet. Marvin didn’t get to have a close relationship with his siblings, so the album was bittersweet for more than just the fact that his late lover was taking up most of the pages.

“Were you and Whizzer together? Romantically, I mean.” Whizzer’s sister asked nonchalantly. Marvin chuckled.

“Was I that obvious?” Marvin sighed in response. She smiled at him.

“Not really. I’m the only one in the family who knew about Whizzer being queer - as if it was hard to tell.” She joked. Marvin let out another little laugh. She wasn’t wrong about that one, most people could tell off first glance that Whizzer was a homosexual.

“Did you treat him well?” She asked, her voice soft. She didn’t look at Marvin when she asked this, instead gazing down at the photo album fondly. He craned his neck over to see a photo of Whizzer when he was young - very young, probably not a day over 6. Marvin didn’t want to tear up again, but his eyes betrayed him. He blinked a few times and sighed.

“I loved him. I love him. He’s my everything.” He responded with a thoughtful nod. She looked up at him, ripping her eyes away from the album and smiled.

“Good. ‘Cus I’d kill you if that weren’t the case.”

She moved out shortly after that. Marvin hadn’t seen her since, but every time he arrived, Ms and Mr Brown would tell him that she said hello, and assure that they’d see each other again sometime.

Marvin arrived a little early this time. His days were getting empty and uneventful so he had nothing else to get done before his visit. However, knowing the couple he was visiting, they more than likely had everything prepared for his visit from hours and hours prior.

He’d try his best to have a good time that night.

1983, Spring - Part 2

A few weeks later, Marvin was getting ready to go out for the night. Well, not ‘out’ out. He couldn’t really, it was risky. He was going to Charlotte and Cordelia’s. There was probably something to be said about the fact that he considered going to his neighbours ‘going out’, but he chose to ignore it. He was 44, might as well act like it. Anyway, they were celebrating tonight. Cordelia was making a nice dinner, Charlotte would decorate as nicely as she could and Marvin would bring a framed photo and a candle.

Today was Whizzer’s birthday. He would have turned 40 today. Marvin was messily decorating a not-so-great sponge cake. He knew Cordelia would probably have one that outshone his in every way, but he still wanted to make a cake for Whizzer from him. Though he was pretty strict on what he ate to maintain himself when they first met, when they got back together it seemed that Whizzer stopped being so strict with himself and began to eat what he wanted when he wanted. That’s when Marvin discovered Whizzer had a pretty big sweet tooth. It was incredibly endearing. Whizzer had an endless list of desserts - mostly expensive and fancy and French - that he enjoyed. Marvin wished he had the skill to make one of them. A canale, or an eclair, or maybe even angel wings.

Angel wings were simple enough, though Marvin tried once and still managed to mess it up. He was left with oily, squishy pastries and a mountain of powdered sugar. Given those disastrous results, a basic sponge cake was what he settled on this time around. He had let it cool, and was now covering it in icing. Whizzer didn’t have a favourite colour, so he chose a few. He would always say certain colours were his favourite, but it changed every week. He’d insist ‘for real this time, my favourite is green’, though by the next time the question was asked it had changed to be pink or ‘royal’ blue.

His cake ended up with a pink for the base coating of icing, horribly made blue swirls, yellow star-shaped sprinkles and writing in some foul-looking green gel icing. ‘Whizzer’, it said, though it was all squished up and uneven. Underneath Marvin tried and failed to write ‘I love you’, and it ended up a messy excuse for the term. It smudged around too, so by the time he was done it looked like it was meant to read ‘I ove yu’. Whizzer would’ve laughed and eaten it without complaints. Okay, maybe a few complaints.

Packing up the cake into a plastic container and placing the scented candle, birthday candle, lighter and framed photo, Marvin started his very short, underwhelming journey to the house next door. He kicked the door a few times with the toe of his shoe. He didn’t have the hands to knock or ring the doorbell. The kicking was loud and dull, making an awful thud sound. He winced and instead opted to call out.

“It’s Marvin!”

He said. He could hear Cordelia on the other side, ‘coming!’, in her excited and sing songy voice. She made this voice when she was in the middle of something but still trying to tend to anyone and everyone who needed her. She flung the door open and smiled with an exasperated sigh, looking exactly how Marvin expected - apron around waist and hands covered in food and cooking oil. Marvin smiled.

“Marvin!”

She gave him a welcoming hug, methodically angling her dirty hands into 90 degree angles so she wouldn’t get food onto Marvin’s red zip-up hoodie. He couldn’t really hug back, holding everything. He pulled back and smiled.

“Come in, oh, put your stuff down on the table, yeah?”

She asked, moving aside to let him in. She closed the front door with her foot. Marvin moved through the familiar house - basically his second home at this point - and placed his collection of items onto the dining table. He let out a sigh and stretched. The table was set to eat, and Marvin stood idly by as he watched Cordelia finish up. She was just washing her hands and plating the food.

Upsettingly, the smell of the food made Marvin a little ill. He watched Cordelia bring plate after plate. Charlotte walked in and smiled.

“Marvin, how are you?” She asked, giving Marvin a hug. Marvin relished any hugs he got these days, so he hugged back tightly.

“Oh, as good as I can be.” He said, a little morbidly. Charlotte took a seat, so Marvin followed her example.

Cordelia took her spot. Marvin lit the scented candle and placed it next to Whizzer’s photo. He jokingly cleared his throat and tapped his cup with a fork. Charlotte rolled her eyes affectionately and Cordelia smiled and leaned in to hear what Marvin would say.

“Alright, we all know why we’re here,” He smirked. “And I speak on behalf of me and Charlotte-”

“Charlotte and I.” Charlotte corrected. Marvin looked at her and rolled his eyes before making a mocking tone.

“On behalf of Charlotte and I to say thank you to Whizzer, for giving us an excuse to eat Cordelia’s cooking, and giving me an excuse to talk about you, again. Happy birthday, baby.” He said with a smile.

Cordelia smiled and leant onto Charlotte’s shoulder, holding onto her arm. Marvin felt his face go a little red.

“I miss you dearly.” He said quiet and quick, wanting to move on quickly. He was never embarrassed by physical affection, but somehow, verbalising his love got him incredibly embarrassed.

The three clinked their cups together with a collective ‘cheers’ before they began to eat. The food was great tasting, but Marvin lacked an appetite. He ended up just playing around with his food with his fork, moving it around to make space that had it appear like he ate.

“Marv, you don’t have much of an appetite, do you?” Cordelia asked, her voice hushed as if it were a forbidden question.

“Not anymore, no.” He replied. “I assume you want to hear about how I’m doing symptoms-wise?”

He asked with an eyebrow raised. The two nodded and shared little ‘yeah’s. Marvin took in a deep breath and sighed.

“I’ve been getting really feverish. Cold, too. My body had been hurting literally everywhere. No appetite, and, uh, toilet problems.” Marvin tried to put it as bluntly as possible. If he removed emotion from it, they’d be less worried and he’d feel less humiliated. Though, they didn’t seem any less concerned. Damn it.

“Marv, that sounds so hard to deal with,” Cordelia started, leaning in to Marvin and speaking with a slightly jumpy voice. “Do you wanna go to the hospital?” She asked delicately.

“Fuck no.” Marvin said. He quickly realised how aggressive he’d sounded. He shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Not yet. Sorry, the idea of that just stresses me out.”

Cordelia nodded along in understanding. Charlotte had gone quiet. She looked troubled by what Marvin had said. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair before leaning in to talk to Marvin.

“You’re still coming in for testing, right?” She asked. “You definitely need it.”

He nodded and Charlotte nodded too before leaning back, looking at Marvin with a skeptical look. Charlotte and Cordelia’s plates were both empty now. Marvin gave a sheepish smile before grabbing the container with his terrible cake inside.

“Let’s not think about that right now, yeah?” He said. Charlotte snorted at the cake. Cordelia made a little ‘aw’ and took off the see-through lid to get a better look at the poorly decorated cake. Marvin smiled at their reactions. He began to strategically place 4 candles across the cake. It was Whizzer’s 40th anyway.

He lit each candle, one by one. The unlikely lovers began to sing for their missing 4th member.

1983, Autumn

A week or two later, Marvin had to endure the same gruelling tests he had taken a few months back. It was awful. The hospitals still didn’t know enough about the virus to know what exactly to look at, so he had to go through quite a few examinations. Most were fine, he was exaggerating about their severity - the worst of it was blood tests. Marvin used to be severely squeamish about needles. Any injections he got as a child weren’t without arguments and screaming. They still scared him, but to a much lower degree.

The pathologist tightened the little medical belt around his upper arm. It was tight, and a little uncomfortable.

“Is that fine?” She asked him. “Yeah, it’s fine.” Marvin said with a polite smile before he stared off at the wall.

He could feel the needle pierce his skin - he just tried to ignore it and distract himself by reading the medical posters on the walls. He could probably recite most of the evacuation procedures for the hospital if he tried hard enough. In his peripherals, he could see the pathologist pasting stickers with his name on it onto the vials of blood she’d collected. He was relieved, that meant it was practically over. Within the next minute he’d have a little bandaid over a big purple bruise and walk out of there, no problems.

“All done, here’s your papers.”

She handed him 2 signed papers and moved aside to let him leave. He stood up, maybe too quickly. He got dizzy and stumbled back, grabbing the chair for support. He looked at the pathologist embarrassedly, giving her a sheepish smile before walking off. She looked concerned but Marvin didn’t want to deal with that. He’d get sat down and given some chips and an apple juice, while doctors checked him for other symptoms.

The next day, the dizziness from the blood test persisted. Walking off the dizziness, Marvin headed over to the hospital again. He walked off to where he knew Charlotte was waiting for him. She was going to give him a general checkup during her lunch break. He felt guilty about it - he’d make it up to her somehow. He sat on the bed and absentmindedly stared at the wall again.

To his sheer and utter delight, the walls had been plastered with the same posters as the other rooms. Goddamn evacuation procedure. Thank the lord he knew how to evacuate. Forget a cure for AIDS, he knew how to evacuate! That’s all one really needs. He read boredly as he waited for Charlotte to arrive.

A few minutes passed and he could see her enter in the corner of his eye.

“Y’know, this evacuation procedure poster gets more thrilling each time I read it.”

Marvin said bluntly. Charlotte shot him an expression, raising a brow. Marvin chuckled and watched as she grabbed different equipment.

“Let’s get this done nice and quick, okay Marv? I have your results from yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s fast.” He said, trying to sound positive. Charlotte put the ear pieces of her stethoscope in her ears. She waited for Marvin to take off his zip-up hoodie. She put the cool metal circle against his white shirt. Marvin watched her expression. His heart must’ve been fine, because her face didn’t change in the slightest.

Then she grabbed an otoscope. She went checking him from ear to ear, her expression still staying the same. Maybe Marvin wasn’t as great at reading her as he initially thought he was. She checked his mouth next, with a gross long wooden stick and a little light. She pushed down his tongue with the stick, and he tried not to gag. Next she checked his blood pressure, and that was about it. Probably.

“Okay, let me grab the scale. Last time you were?” She asked, leaning down and grabbing the plastic platform from under her desk.

“80 kilograms.” Marvin replied. “That was around 3 months ago.”

She placed the scale in front of him and Marvin hopped on. He laughed in disbelief at first. He squinted his eyes, as if they were playing tricks on him.

“Does that actually say 74?”

He said, his voice coming out more shaky than he’d wanted. Charlotte looked beyond concerned - Marvin could tell that much. It definitely wasn’t normal though. He swallowed thickly and sighed. There wasn’t much to be done.

“I guess that makes now a good time to discuss results.”

Charlotte sighed and took a seat, before gesturing for Marvin to do the same. Marvin sat down, trying to convince himself he was ready for whatever results he had ended up with.

“Your CD4 levels per cubic millimetre has dropped significantly. Last time we checked it was in the high 300s.”

Marvin nodded and leant forward.

“They are now in the high 100s.”

“That’s not good, is it?”

“Marvin, you’ll be lucky if you aren’t bedridden in a month.” She said, her voice blunt, but she looked sad. There wasn’t any nice way to say it.

1983, Autumn - Part 2

Marvin never really thought of himself as a particularly sentimental person.

Not until recently though. He was thinking a lot about death - as one does when one is on their way out. What could he leave behind? He hadn’t really made his mark in any way, so he might as well try and leave something significant behind. Something with meaning, something tear-jerking that made people reflect on Marvin fondly. Something that showed he cared. Something for Jason.

That something was this: Filling a box with things for Jason, so he’d have something nice to look at when Marvin wasn’t by his side anymore. He decided to fill it with all sorts of memorabilia that Jason both had and hadn’t seen. For starters, he put in Jason’s old baby bottle that Marvin had saved and cherished so closely. Then he put a photo of the two, Marvin holding a newborn Jason in his arms, not even looking at the camera because of the pure love he had for his baby. On the back, he wrote ‘This is one of Whizzer’s favourite pictures of us. I love you.’ He had written ‘I love you’ on so many different things. Anything that would immortalise it, just make it so known to Jason how deep his father’s love ran. He didn’t want him to forget it.

By far, the tape recorder was the best thing in the box - in Marvin’s opinion, at least. Marvin had recorded himself rarely, maybe once a year since before Jason was born. The recordings started around when Marvin was maybe 27? Either way, portable tape recorders had only just become a thing. Listening through, he found a few recordings of him and Whizzer, from when the two first met. They continued on until Whizzer died. Marvin hadn’t touched it since. He began to record himself talking to Jason. He recorded him saying and singing happy birthday. He recorded himself saying congratulations, for anything, for everything. He recorded himself comforting the boy. With the last bit of storage he recorded himself singing some of Jason’s favourite songs.

Today Marvin woke up with a headache and dizziness. And nausea, unbearable nausea. He fought the whole morning to not throw up. He checked his weight - not great. He had lost even more. He even had to make a new hole in his belt to make sure his pants wouldn’t fall all the way down his legs. He could at least spare his dignity.

Jason was coming over tonight, so Marvin decided to cook one of his favourites. Marvin wasn’t sure how high it actually was when it came to his favourite meals, but he knew it was the one which Jason claimed only he knew how to cook in a way Jason liked. It gave Marvin a weird sense of pride in himself. As he cooked the meal, he could feel a lump in his throat. When did he get so damn, unbearably sentimental? He was thinking of Jason as a little kid, eating the same meal happily and asking for seconds.

It was undeniable at this point. As his body fought nausea, a headache and dizziness all at once, the reality was clear. This was the last time he could cook this meal for Jason. This was the last time Jason would eat this meal, in the way Jason liked. When it was made by Marvin, made by his father. He didn’t want to address it, it made it worse, but he was so goddamn slow while working that his mind couldn’t help but trail off and create these depressing epiphanies. As if the symptoms weren’t enough suffering. While he measured out every ingredient with trembling hands, while he set cooking timers, while he took out utensils and pots and pans, he fought tooth and nail to keep his composure.

He finished all the food soon enough. He would just need to warm it up that night. There was a reason he had done it so early: Nights were worse. Ten times so. He would need to be in bed by 8pm if he didn’t want to be struggling beyond belief. Jason would notice the early bedtime. He would notice everything soon. Marvin would have to tell him soon.

Though, not today. Not today, if he could help it. He sat and idled about all day while he waited for Jason to finish school. He was getting worse at driving, swerving all over the place while he tried to have just a brief moment of wellness so he could drive responsibly. The world hadn’t been kind to him about this illness so far, why would he get a break when driving? Why would there be exceptions?

He got into the car extra early, to let himself have breaks on the road. Though it was a long and painful process, Marvin managed to get to Jason’s school right on the bell. He watched school kids flood out, and Jason make his way to the car. He hopped into the front seat.

“Hey, dad.” He said, buckling in his seat belt.

“Hey, kid. How was school?” Marvin asked, leaning over and giving a hug to Jason for a greeting. Jason hugged back.

“Good. Uneventful, honestly.” Jason said, sitting back in his chair and sighing. He seemed tired from the school day. Marvin started the car and started the - hopefully not-so-treacherous - journey home.

Marvin turned on the car's radio to fill in the silence. Some new songs played, and Jason danced along to the ones he knew. He loved dancing, it was beyond endearing for Marvin. He didn’t know any of the new songs, but he got the same enjoyment out of it as Jason did just by watching him dance. Marvin kept on mindlessly driving. The traffic was doing him a favour, they’d be home quickly. It was all smooth sailing. Driving wise, Marvin was correct. It wasn’t challenging. Though the universe couldn’t be satisfied without throwing another challenge his way.

He thought he was in the clear, everything would be alright. Until there was a song that he couldn’t ignore. The reaction was almost involuntary. His eyes shot wide open and he swallowed down the lump in his throat and froze up entirely, using all his willpower not to slam the breaks in shock. He was surprised he didn’t start sobbing as a part of the visceral reaction.

He could see Jason in his peripherals, he was dancing again.

How could he dance? How could he dance so freely? It wasn’t even a dancing song in any way, so Jason was swaying side to side. It was painfully corny, and horribly stereotypical. For him and Whizzer, at least. But he and Whizzer always found a way to dance to it, and never found it corny or stereotypical. They both shyly admitted the fact to each other - that they both associated the song with each other and loved it in all its corny and stereotypical glory. Of course it was a song from a musical. That was typical of them.

He could see Jason, in his peripherals once again. He continued to sway side to side and even sang along - he was a great singer, though he wasn’t really trying to be. Just another endearing part of his son. Marvin couldn’t be sure if the song was melting away his nausea or worsening it. Was his head throbbing harder? Or had it subsided? Was it so bad that he couldn’t even notice it anymore? Or did this song just fix something inside him?

“Don’t let go… Hold on to the end - That’s what I intend to do. I’m hopelessly devoted to you.”

Marvin was rusty at singing along. Jason seemed to smile when Marvin joined in. He pulled up in front of his small house. He could already feel his heart pang with pain as the chorus came by once again. He parked the car and let Jason get out. He stayed in the driver's seat, watching Jason quietly as he tried not to reminisce too long.

Memories of him and Whizzer all came flooding in, the two in the little house before him, dancing and singing and laughing and loving together. Him and Whizzer would sing together. It was embarrassing and silly and horribly domestic, the two singing while they cooked and cleaned and folded laundry. A sickening sight for the heartless. It was worse when they didn’t have chores and would end up slow dancing, the two all over each other.

Marvin turned off the radio as the song faded off and got out of the car. The moment he slammed the door behind himself, he felt he could barely move. The world began spinning, somehow worse than before and he had to hold onto the car desperately while he tried to calm himself. He breathed slowly and deeply, with little success. He thought that was supposed to help? Apparently not.

Fine, he would just have to force himself into the house.

He kept walking, slow as he was, the song lingering in his head. He opened the short fence that lined his house, which felt like a challenge in itself. He barely managed to close it behind himself while he watched Jason fumble with his house keys to open the door. He kept walking, but then he stopped. He hadn’t even realised he stopped until he heard his name being called.

He was on the floor. His face was pressed up against the wet, dirty footpath to his front door. He pulled up both his arms and tried to push himself up, only getting his upper body about a quarter of the way before his own weight became too much as he fell down on the ground again, his entire upper body landing with a dull thud and cold slap. When did his body become so heavy and so pathetically limp? His stomach swirled with nausea. He felt cold and hot. Chills - another symptom. Maybe staying on the path wasn’t such a bad idea, the coolness of the concrete made him feel a little better. He wanted to curl up and just lay there.

Oh wait, Jason. He was scaring his son, his Jason. He decided to try again. He used both his arms again and forced himself up with all his energy. He didn’t expect to find himself face to face with Jason. He had been frantically shaking his shoulder, trying desperately to get him up. Jason couldn’t handle the thought of anyone being sick anymore, it was too much for him. Marvin could barely focus, he didn’t make eye contact, he just stared forward. He felt like he was seeing double, his vision swaying, his own body turning against him.

He hyperventilated. Heavy, ragged breaths for depraved lungs. He hyperventilated just like Whizzer had on the racquetball court. Heavy, ragged breaths for deteriorating-soon-to-be-dead lungs. It made him feel even more ill. He felt like he could gag at any moment. He looked at Jason now, who hadn’t stopped shaking him and calling his name. He responded firmly:

“I’m fine. I’m good.”

Except it wasn’t fine or good. That was it. This was the end. He brought Jason into a tight hug. He held him there. Jason pulled back, his face shocked and concerned and horrified if Marvin didn’t know any better. It was probably just strange to see his own father in this pathetic state, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time left to hold Jason like this, holding him anytime he pleased. He forced himself to stand, Jason supporting half his weight the whole way up.

“Dad…”

Jason said, his voice sounding accusing. Marvin just nodded. Jason looked angry, he looked betrayed. The two got inside, and Jason helped Marvin to his bed. God bless his child. Being helped down, he laid down on his side and curled up. Jason walked around and got into the bed with him from Whizzer’s - the other side - and cuddled up to him. Marvin was taken aback. This wasn’t something he got from Jason very often. He rested his head on Marvin’s back and held his hand in his own. He toyed with Marvin’s fingers. Marvin wished he had words to express how grateful he was, but he couldn’t get his voice out.

“It’s okay. I get things have been hard, for you especially.”

Jason said as Marvin felt himself doze off. Having Jason’s head against his back - where Whizzer would tiredly rest his head after a long day of feeling sick and horrible - was strangely comforting. Besides that, it was his son. Jason, his son. His favourite person on this Earth.

“I understand. Everything will be alright.”

He reassured. Marvin felt tears prick his eyes. He turned around, slow and weak, just so he could hold Jason to his chest. He held him there and sighed. Jason let himself curl up a little, allowing Marvin to tangle his fingers in the curly brown hair he had gotten from his father. This was so rare, so sacred - Jason, letting Marvin hold him like this, starting any form of affection between the two - Marvin had to cherish this moment. The two stayed silent, close to each other, warming each other up as the minutes passed them by. Jason’s stomach growled with hunger. Marvin chuckled, and so did Jason - though it was a little bit out of embarrassment. Marvin weakly sat up and smiled down at Jason, who was turning over and stretching.

He smiled back at his father, happy to see him having regained enough strength to sit up.

“I made your favourite tonight.”

Jason sat up suddenly with a smile.

“Really?”

He asked. Marvin smiled and nodded. Jason’s excitement was exactly what he expected. After all, being the only person who managed to make this meal in a way that Jason thoroughly enjoyed was Marvin. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why - were his cooking skills just that messed up that he had somehow managed to make a meal his son didn’t like all that much into one of his all time favourites?

The two both stretched and got out of the bed slowly, Jason watching his father cautiously and offering help whenever he could. Marvin simply denied the requests, in spite of knowing he needed the help. Luckily it did exactly as Marvin hoped and Jason’s troubled expression melted off his face.

Though it was the hardest thing so far, Marvin held it together while he heated up the food. He reflected on just how horribly he trembled while cooking, but now, that was incomparable to this. Serving the food all warm in Jason’s favourite bowl, with his favourite spoon and fork, he could feel himself begin to come undone. He walked to the table and placed the food in front of Jason. He sat across, no food in front of him. He just watched Jason. Jason seemed confused - obviously paying more attention to Marvin than usual - but began eating.

After a bit of eating though, he paused. It occurred to Marvin that he mustn’t have been hiding his expression as well as he thought, because Jason had now looked up at Marvin with concern.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

He asked. Marvin swallowed thickly and waited for the words to come out. He had been biting the nail of his left thumb anxiously, using it like a buffer to excuse his lack of response. His eyes shot up to Jason, then back down at the tablecloth. There was silence between the two, the tension was thick. Jason repeated himself, this time more firmly and leaning closer toward his Father. Marvin didn’t hesitate this time. He couldn’t hold it in, it was finally erupting.

“I’m sick.”

Jason looked up confusedly, though his eyes quickly widened with horror at his realisation.

“No.” Jason said in disbelief, his mouth agape and his voice alarmed. “Yes.” Marvin responded coarsely.

Marvin had already prepared himself to be yelled at, shouted at and maybe even shaken around, but Jason just buried his head in his hands, this time his body shaking with sobs. He had grown up. Standing up, slowly, shaking, Marvin walked around the table to get to his son, holding onto the edge of the table for support the whole of the way around. He held Jason close, stroking his hair and shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

He said, his voice weak. It really was worse at night. Jason looked up at him, just staring quietly as his face continued to contort with tears, his bottom lip quivering. Marvin placed some kisses on Jason’s forehead and in his hair.

“I don’t understand, no - No. Not- No.”

He stammered, his mind disorientated and conflicted. Marvin had never felt this horribly guilty. Part of him feels it could’ve been worse if he hadn’t waited this long, but maybe it was worsened by how long he took to tell Jason. He couldn’t think about that though, as Jason’s poor frantic questions began to bombard him.

“With- with what Whizzer had? That’s what you mean, right?!”

Marvin nodded.

“This is something that is passed between two men.”

Jason’s expression dropped as he realised what Marvin meant. He shook his head again, for what seemed like the thousandth time, his face contorting with distress and disbelief before he buried his face in Marvin’s shirt. While his son cried and sobbed into his shirt - more openly than he had since he was only a young boy - Marvin heard his own voice come out before he even thought about it.

“Please eat,”

He said.

“After all, you only like it when I make it”

Marvin reassured weakly. Jason shook his head, his crying and hyperventilating becoming worse and worse still. The tears and wails being pulled from his son’s chest were too much, he couldn’t hold himself together any longer. He began sobbing. He wanted nothing more than to hold Jason, close and safe in his arms, till the day this sickness would take him away from the world.

“You- You, have you told mom?” Jason managed to ask through his tears.

“No. I’m going to tell her.” Marvin assured him.

“You have to tell her. Please.” Jason asked, his voice sad and pleading.

“Tomorrow. Yeah?”

Marvin asked, his voice low and soft. Jason nodded. Tomorrow it was.

1983, Winter - The next day

Marvin woke up multiple times throughout the night. He would get up, go to the bathroom, Jason would wait outside the door anxiously, then walk him back to bed, where Marvin would lay in discomfort, clinging to the fact that his son was next to him. He was being taken care of. It was awful that it had to be his son, but selfishly, Marvin didn’t care. He hadn’t been taken care of in so long. He slept in and woke up to the smell of freshly cooked breakfast - yet the smell made him unwell. He barely had an appetite anymore. Jason noted how thin he’d gotten while cuddled up to him last night.

“Dad, you’re so skinny…”

“I know.”

Marvin whispered. Jason sniffled.

“I don’t like it.”

He didn’t feel as awful as the night prior, but he definitely didn’t feel good. That’s what he thought, until he tried to get up. Instantaneously, his body was against him and he could feel the intensity of all his symptoms. He immediately had to get himself laid back down. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage the drive to Trina’s. Everything hurt, he felt violently ill - there was not a single part of his body that was on his side currently.

He was happy to have been able to comfort Jason with what little strength he had the night prior. His strength was running thin. He wasn’t sure he’d make it through the day, let alone the car ride to Trina’s. He decided to be blunt about his condition with his son. He found Jason in his room, going through some school work. Marvin cleared his throat and spoke:

“Let’s go, Jason. It gets worse as the day goes on, we have to go.”

Jason looked scared, if only a little, and quickly grabbed his bag. The weekend visit had become much shorter than initially planned. Marvin grabbed his keys and his car keys. He fiddled with the keys and got the door ready, so Jason could just pull it closed and it would lock itself. He began to make his way out of the house and to the car, trying to walk as fast as he could. He got into the driver's seat and watched Jason open the door on the passenger’s side, sitting in his seat and buckling his seat belt.

Marvin turned the keys, put the car into drive and began to drive off. The drive was 20 minutes. If he was unlucky and the traffic was bad, 25. Jason turned on the radio and the two sat in silence. It wasn’t hard to call it a comfortable silence, but the stress from the two of them removed any kind of comfort that they could possibly have. Marvin’s shoulders were high and his body was hunched in a way that made the body aches bearable. He looked stiff and uncomfortable, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, Jason probably would’ve laughed and told him to relax his shoulders before making some snarky comparison.

He continued to drive, though he could feel his exhaustion fighting to take control of him. His eyelids were fluttering, and soon enough the fluttering was over and all he could see was the dark of his eyelids. He could feel himself drifting, and he would like to think he was drifting off to sleep in his bed, but it was probably just the car.

Definitely the car. Desperate car horns and Jason’s pleading forced him awake and he shot straight up, grabbing the wheel and swerving himself back into his lane. He kept his eyes wide, as if that would work to wake him up. He groaned at himself before he looked at Jason, his eyes shooting to him momentarily before returning to the road.

“I’m so sorry. Almost there.” Marvin said, his voice sad and pathetic.

“Almost there.” Jason repeated with a little nod.

The traffic moved along smoothly, but Marvin could picture the stressed faces of all the drivers around him. He felt rather nauseated thinking about it, though that could’ve just been his illness. The two were now tense, but Jason began talking now to keep Marvin awake.

Once they pulled up at the house, Marvin and Jason both looked at each other in relief. Marvin smiled and laughed, beyond relieved. The two made their way inside the house. Marvin was feeling in good shape. Jason said hi to both Trina and Mendel before he retreated to his room. Both Trina and Mendel were confused at his and Marvin’s early return, but even more confused at how quiet Jason had been when they arrived.

“Not that we mind it but, why are you back early? Is something the matter with Jason?”

Trina asked. Mendel nodded, sharing an equally confused expression. Jason loved his time at Marvin’s, why was he back so early?

“I needed to talk to the both of you.”

Marvin told them, his voice as neutral as possible. Trina and Mendel looked at each other a little lost but nodded and guided Marvin to the coffee table, letting him take a seat.

“Have you lost weight, Marvin?” Mendel asked, his voice lighthearted and almost teasing, trying to get a reaction out of Marvin.

“Yes, actually… Well, The reason I wanted to talk to you guys…”

He stammered over his words, unsure where to start. He paused as he felt the eyes of both Trina and Mendel on him. They were both smiling expectantly, expressions gentle and patient. Mendel had always had that patience in his face - more so when he had played the role of Marvin’s psychiatrist rather than his ex-wife’s new lover. The patience in either of their faces had disappeared entirely once the two of them got together.

It only returned after Whizzer died. People were showing him the most care in the most dire parts of his life. He wished it had been there other times, all the time. Consistent care, not just over the top care, concentrated on one terrible time in his life. This wasn’t the time to reflect on his life, no.

Marvin looked down at his lap, staring at his belt buckle and thinking about the tarnished metal. Then he looked back up, snapping himself back into reality once again while he was still nervously trying to figure out how to word himself.

“I’m sick.” He admitted - might as well be blunt, get it over with. Trina looked at him, confusedly, as if to question why he would need to talk about such a thing. Her expression made it clear that she thought he was talking about some flu, some common cold type of thing. Though, she quickly became more serious, as if the cogs in her brain had been turning and they had finally come to a stop.

“Like… Whizzer?”

She said, saying ‘Whizzer’ delicately, being as gentle around the name as she could be. She had hesitated and pulled the slightest expression when considering if she should even say his name. Mendel put a hand over Trina’s, their hands piled on top of each other’s neatly on Trina’s knee. Marvin nodded. He watched Trina’s other hand go up to her mouth in horror, face contorting into tears just like Jason’s had. Mendel rubbed her back with his free hand before turning and looking at Marvin. His face was defeated. Marvin opened his mouth to speak, not even thinking about what words came out of his mouth.

“We had a feeling. But we just hoped you’d somehow been spared.” Mendel said quietly.

“Trina, honey - I’m so sorry.” Marvin said, ignoring Mendel. She wiped her face and looked up at him.

“Jason. Jason, what about Jason? Is that why he came in looking so sad?”

Marvin nodded. Trina sounded frantic, stumbling over her words and repeating herself.

“I collapsed in front of him yesterday. I wanted to tell you guys myself, and he wanted you guys to hear it from me.”

“What’s this mean, Marvin?”

Mendel asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know.”

Marvin said, as nausea crept over him. He was dizzy. He wanted to scream. Of course, he was only spared of his symptoms for a short while. He wanted someone to hold his hand, tell him just how great of a job he was doing. Reassure him that soon enough he’d be home in his bed. That’s all he wanted. To be in his bed, sleeping off this unbearable nausea - as if that’d be any help. He knew better. Whizzer had been complaining of on and off nausea for weeks.

“Are you fit to be driving?”

Trina asked, her voice thick with tears. Marvin considered lying, but decided he should just be honest at this point.

“I blacked out on the road here. I don’t think so.” He said this with a forced chuckle, and Trina looked beyond concerned. Frightened, even.

“I’ll drive you home.”

Mendel responded, and his tone showed Marvin that it wasn’t up for debate. He could hear his stomach churning, filling him with dread that materialised as a pit in his stomach - as if he needed more going on there. He felt the colour drain from his face and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was dreadfully unwell. He stared down at his lap while Mendel and Trina spoke - he could barely tell what they were saying anymore. His ears weren’t ringing, but he still couldn’t hear them. It was as if he was underwater. He got up suddenly, sending his chair tumbling back as he held onto the dining table for support. All he managed as an explanation - before running off - was:

“Bathroom.”

He left swiftly and ended up locking the door in embarrassment. He was stuck sitting there for a while, trying his best to hold it together. Before long, though, he stood up and came face to face with the fact that the bowl was full of blood. He’d shit blood. He swallowed harshly as if it would make him feel any better. He flushed quickly, though his weak stomach gave in to both his general sickness and the sight. He should’ve known this was coming when he felt the unexplained urge to swallow. He brought the seat back up and dropped to his knees, hugging the bowl as he threw up. Of all the places this could have happened - he couldn’t have just held it down until he got home?

Obviously, Marvin was getting much worse at being subtle about his symptoms. Mendel rushed in, throwing the door open. He must’ve made too much noise. Mendel sounded frantic, the nervous wreck.

“Marvin?! Marvin, I’m going to call the ambulance-“

“No, no. Don’t you dare do that, Mendel!”

Marvin shouted, turning to look at Mendel. His voice was raw from vomiting and he sounded like a crying child. His face was pale and he was in no place to try and fight, but God knows he’d try. He coughed a bit and turned away, hacking into the toilet once again. He stared at the mix of blood and stomach acid and undigested food in the bowl. He looked at Mendel, blood and spit dripping down his chin.

“Mendel, please.”

Marvin croaked out, his voice sad, frantic, begging.

“You can’t, they’ll keep me there and then - Just don’t do this to me.”

Trina was now hovering behind Mendel, Jason by her side. Trina was craning her head to see Marvin. He felt like a zoo animal, or, rather, a circus animal. He was behind the glass of his disease, and those in better health were staring in horror. Jason pushed through to see Marvin, Trina trying to stop him or cover his eyes, or do something to prevent it. Jason looked at Marvin.

“Jason- Jason, I won’t be able to see Jason if I’m at the hospital! I can’t go, tell them, Jace!”

Marvin felt horrible begging his son like that. He was just a young boy, he didn’t deserve this. Marvin had already put so much onto the boy in the past 48 hours. He couldn’t think straight, though. He was clinging to Jason like he was the child, and Jason were his father. He stared for a short while, blinked a few times, recognised Jason’s expression and forced himself to at least try and behave sensibly. He pulled away from Jason and let out a few more bloody coughs.

“Jason, please go to your room.” Marvin begged, his voice no longer in child-like shouted pleas, but desperate whispers. He sounded his age again. He wished someone was there to rub his back and say they were proud of him. Jason quietly stood and left the bathroom. Once his footsteps were out of earshot, Marvin let out a heavy sigh and began to breathe heavily. He looked up at Mendel and Trina.

“At least let me grab things from home first… Please.”

He trembled, trying to stand. Mendel and Trina both rushed over to help him up. Trina looked at his face. He looked back at her, the two making eye contact for a little while. Trina looked so worried, so sad. Marvin ripped his eyes away from her to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was barely upright, all his weight being supported by the other two. He was paler than he’d thought was humanly possible without being dead. The only colour on his face was some blood on his mouth. Mendel flushed the toilet, then Marvin’s mess was gone.

“You can go home and pack a bag… If that’s what you need in order to let us take you to the hospital.”

Trina said. Marvin feels too sick, too exhausted to care. The two dragged him out of the bathroom and to the front door. Trina detached from Marvin and Mendel. She grabbed her keys to lock up the house. Marvin limped to his car with Mendel keeping him up. He was slumped onto the car seats in the back. He was sprawled across them all, Trina and Mendel in the front two. As the car began to slowly drive off, Marvin curled in on himself. He covered his face with both hands.

“Oh, I don’t feel good right now. I really don’t.” He said, his voice coming out whiny and desperate. Trina turned and looked back at him. She frowned.

“It’s going to be alright, Marvin. We’ll get you home and then safely in the hospital.” Mendel reassured. Marvin tried his hardest to believe him.

The car ride was a blur. Marvin tried to listen to Mendel and Trina’s conversations, and contribute in any way he could manage, to no avail. The whole time, he was just feeling sick and in pain. His whole body was in pain. He tried to retreat into his mind, though that wasn’t any better. His thoughts were racing. This is it, this was the end, he was going to lose everything. He had to apologise to Jason, for everything. He held both sides of his head and tried to get a hold of himself. His thoughts were too loud, his thoughts - they were too much. He couldn’t manage.

“Are we almost there?” Marvin begged, his voice coming out like a whine. Once again, he lacked the energy to be embarrassed.

“We’re here, Marvin. Mendel’s outside getting the neighbours.” Trina said, her voice delicate. Marvin appreciated it. He sat up and moved to get out of the car.

He managed to get out, though slowly and with much difficulty, and with much help from Trina. Trina and Mendel got back into the car and left Marvin to the neighbours. Charlotte and Cordelia both seemed equally stressed out. Charlotte looked a little more calm, but Marvin had known her long enough to know what she looked like when she was properly panicked. This was one of those times.

“Marvin, you look awful!” Cordelia said, from a place of concern. Though it ended up just sounding a little like an insult.

Marvin pushed past her and Charlotte. “I have to get my things.” He said bluntly.

He got inside and began to mindlessly throw things into a small backpack. If he was staying at the hospital he would at least bring his most important things. Charlotte and Cordelia had followed behind him. Having the two of them over his shoulder was stressful. It just made everything all the more real.

“Look, I honestly think I’m okay to, to stay home…” Marvin stammered over his words, taking breaks between his sentences to breathe. He could feel his body shaking, shivering. Was he cold? Why was he so cold, all of the sudden? He swallowed thickly and tried to shake off all the horrible feelings that were plaguing his body.

“Marvin, we all know what happened tonight. You have to go.” Charlotte said as a matter of factly.

Marvin felt his skin heat up with anger. He was getting sick of people telling him what to do and what was best for him, as if he wasn’t a fully grown adult. He snapped his head back to look at Charlotte and turned the rest of his body around.

“No, I- I, uh-” Marvin started, getting dizzy and losing his words. He must’ve turned around too fast.

Falling with a dull thud, Marvin was on the floor. He tried to lift his head, but it dropped back down as soon as he tried. Had he really waited so long, let it all get this bad? It had been 2 years, and months upon months since he became symptomatic. The tiles of his floor were cold, it was nice. It made his hot face feel better.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital. I don’t, please, just let me lie here.”

He begged Charlotte, his face against the floor and his speech slurred.

“I’ll be okay if I just lay here a while. Sleep a little…”

Marvin mumbled, eyes drifting closed as he readjusted his position on the floor, starting to lay himself down on his side.

“Marvin, stay awake. We’re going to the hospital.”

Marvin shot up, sitting up in such a way that made him violently dizzy. He

“No, no - I - oh, God- Please. Don’t send me there.”

Marvin sobbed, sitting up, Charlotte holding his face and Cordelia rubbing his back. It was nice. He felt himself melt into it, practically giving up. He cried, wheezing and sobbing and sniffing as he clung to the little shreds of affection he got out of the other two.

“I want my boyfriend. I want Whizzer, I want my fucking boyfriend.”

He said between panicked breathing and crying. Charlotte whispered to Cordelia - ‘something, something, panic attack’ was all Marvin picked up on. Panic attack didn’t capture the weight of it to Marvin.

“Marv, you need to calm down.” Charlotte said, her voice serious.

Marvin nodded and swallowed thickly. He thought it was only fair to be crying after everything the day had put him through. Shitting blood, coughing it too, puking, collapsing onto the floor, getting dizzy, accidentally showing his son his more severe symptoms and crying to him like a little kid - It was all too much. He couldn’t handle all that.

“Your head is on fire, Marv. You aren’t doing yourself any favours.” Charlotte scolded. Cordelia looked at her, as if to ask her to tone it down.

Marvin could barely catch his breath anymore, all he could hear was himself trying desperately to breathe. He was cold, he was so cold. He sounded so foreign to himself, crying and hyperventilating and any kind of speaking he did being so horribly slurred.

“Cordelia, call the ambulance. Driving him won’t be fast enough.”

“No, no - no, no - nonono. No, don’t do this to me. God why, why is this happening to me?!”

Marvin cried. Being in the hospital meant it was over, it was the end.

“Hold me… Hold me, hold me. Why won’t anyone hold me?! Why isn’t there anyone who can hold me?!” He sobbed. He brought in a long, dragged out, staggering breath before he began repeating Whizzer’s name with whatever little air he had left.

“I’m going to pass out, or throw up - not again, God please no more vomit. I’m gonna, I’m gonna-”

1983, Winter - Part 2

Marvin passed out amidst his breakdown. He drifted in and out of consciousness from then. He remembered getting carried out to the ambulance. He remembered watching nurses and doctors rushing about. Nothing other than that. Cordelia and Charlotte filled him in for the rest of it. Apparently he didn’t cry or scream anymore. That was a relief. The begging and pleading and whiny voice ceased after he passed out in his house. He shit blood, again. He was given meds to stop that and also fever medication. As of the morning, he was relatively stable. The wonders of modern medicine! He was still cold though, shivering violently. And he was still in immense amounts of pain.

Marvin sat in the hospital bed, arms loosely wrapped around his legs. He was covered in blankets and tucked to the back of the bed, cosy against the two pillows behind him. He looked around the barren room. It smelled of death and latex gloves, like the horrid love child of a dentist’s office and a morgue. It was Whizzer’s room. Half of him wished it wasn’t, the other half was grateful it was.

He looked to the side of him. There was a quaint little bedside table next to his hospital bed. Leant against it was his daggy old backpack that he’d haphazardly thrown things into the night prior. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and plucked up the bag from the floor. It was a bit of a struggle, but he managed. Being entirely honest, through the panic of it all, he couldn’t for the life of him recall what he’d packed.

He pulled out his framed picture of Whizzer and placed it onto the desk, facing outward, but tilted just a little toward the bed. He thought he had put his most adored photo in the backpack - the one of Whizzer and Jason - but apparently not. That was okay, he could still see Jason when he pleased. Then, there was a folded silk shirt. Whizzer’s. He placed the folded garment onto the bedside, slipping it underneath the framed photo.

There was also a small radio that sat on the desk, now next to Whizzer - or rather, his photo and shirt. Marvin didn’t want to rot away being sad here. He never let Whizzer get sad in here, or at least, if he was sad, Marvin was there to comfort him. So because Marvin had no one to comfort him, he’d just try to stay as happy as the world would allow him to be. He tried not to think of the way he cried for someone to hold him last night. He didn’t need that.

He turned on the radio, and suddenly, he wanted to dance. He hadn’t danced since god knows when, but he wanted to. He wanted to get up and dance, freely, like he saw Jason do. But he couldn’t. So much for staying happy, now Marvin was mad. Unbearably so. He grabbed the pillow of his bed and whacked it a few times against the mattress. As much as he could, with weak, trembling arms. Even that made him horribly dizzy and breathless. He broke into a coughing fit. The door opened to reveal a confused Dr Charlotte.

“Marvin, what’s going on here?” She seemed to put the pieces together with a single glance, but still waited for Marvin to explain himself after he finished coughing. He managed to catch his breath and clear his lungs.

“I’m angry. I took it out on the pillow.”

“Marvin, you are in no state to be throwing a temper tantrum.”

Marvin rolled his eyes in annoyance, but Charlotte was right. He shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort, especially not after the horrible state he had been in just the night before. Charlotte walked closer and rubbed his back a little.

“Don’t worry, I’d be angry too.”

She said. The radio switched songs, the same one that always had Marvin choking up. Was it playing more than usual? Was the universe playing a cruel trick on him? Charlotte looked at the radio. Marvin could only imagine her mind filling with memories too - hearing Whizzer and Marvin sing happily together next door, before she knocked on their door for them to quiet down. She looked at Marvin and nodded to the radio, as if to ask if he was going to change it. Marvin shook his head. Charlotte rubbed his back once more before making her way out of the room, leaving the sick man alone once again.

He stared at the radio, feeling his heart race with exhaustion from his short-lived outburst. He could almost scream in anger. This was going to be much harder than he’d once thought.

1983 Winter - Part 3

A few weeks had passed since Marvin began his hospital stay.

As of recently, Marvin had found himself getting lost in the hospital much more often than before. One would think he’d get better at navigating the place, but it just seemed to become more and more of a labyrinth the longer he spent there. Sometimes he forgot why he was even in the hospital, looking around his room before trying to get up and go home - though he very quickly realised he was supposed to be there when he tried to sit up properly and he felt the overwhelming strain and pressure on his body.

The times he did get up to try and leave, he’d find himself roaming the halls, dragging his iv behind him. He would spend hours, passing open door after open door in a pathetic attempt to rediscover his room. He would find himself, night after night, following signs to different wards and sections.

He somehow always ended up back in the maternity ward, like he was looking for Trina when they had just had Jason. It brought him back to when Jason had just been born and Marvin immediately left to go get Trina some food. He’d weave through nurses and patients alike as he made his way through the halls of the hospital, back and forth from the food court to her room, trying to find something for his wife. She had been nauseated the entire pregnancy, so of course Marvin had to get his wife food that she could finally stomach after all those months. Though, neither Trina nor Jason were anywhere to be seen in the ward. After all, Jason had been alive for at least 10 years now.

Tonight was one of those confusing nights, Marvin walking around slowly and weakly toward where he had been certain his room was, to no avail. He was walking around, slowly, taking breaks every time he found a chair he could sit on. He’d sit and stare at the wall, losing track of time until he’d forgotten why he’d stopped to sit in the first place.

As he walked, he clung to the wall. He dragged his feet, as if weights were around his ankles. He was methodically putting one hand in front of the other against the cool, white painted wall as he dragged himself across the barren hallways. He needed the bathroom. The only thing he could hear was monitors and machinery, looping endlessly. It hurt his head, but it always ended up as background noise, he’d just have to wait for it to melt into the back of his mind.

He sighed and looked to his side. Whizzer was pale, exhausted. He was looking ahead, just focussed on getting back to his room. Marvin had selfishly dragged Whizzer out of his room, to the courtyard and he was now facing the repercussions of it. He just wanted to hold Whizzer’s hand while looking at the stars. It was nice for a little while. The couple sitting in silence, looking up at the sky. Whizzer’s head sat tiredly on Marvin’s shoulder.

“I love the city, but sometimes I wish we lived in the country.” Whizzer said softly, his voice weak. Marvin turned to him.

“Why?” He asked.

“The stars,” Whizzer responded. “You can see them much more clearly. Some even look blue.” He said, a little smile gracing him.

Shortly after, a coughing fit caused Whizzer to collapse heavily into Marvin’s arms. Marvin wished to be back in the moment prior, when he was fortunate enough to see Whizzer smiling and hear him talking, even if it was hushed and weak. Now Marvin was helping support his weight. He kept looking at Whizzer, trying to catch his gaze so the two could look at each other for a moment. Whizzer seemed much more focussed on getting to his room without collapsing again. Marvin looked away every time he realised Whizzer wasn’t looking at him. He felt stupid, and embarrassed. And worried, and concerned. And sick, and confused. He still couldn’t understand why this was happening to the two of them.

Whizzer let out a small noise of dismay. Marvin looked at him. Finally, his gaze was returned. The two looked at each other for a while. Guiltily, their eyes darted back and forth from each other's lips to their eyes. Leaning in and letting his eyes fall shut, Marvin gave Whizzer a gentle kiss. Passionate kisses weren’t an option anymore. Whizzer returned it. His exhaustion seemed to be presenting itself in any way possible, because Marvin could tell by the way he kissed him.

“It’s okay, baby.” Marvin tried to comfort his lover as they continued walking.

There was a little wobble in Whizzer’s legs now, and he had to stop walking. He groaned again. Marvin twisted his body to hold him, hugging the taller man close. Whizzer sighed and rested his head against Marvin’s. It was sweet.

“You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. I know.” He said softly. Whizzer didn’t reply, just put his hand in Marvin’s hair and stroked his head softly.

“Let’s keep walking, yeah? You’re almost there.” He voiced tenderly.

The two kept walking. Whizzer was getting more and more drained, step by step. Marvin stroked his back with one hand as he supported him to be upstanding. He kept repeating little phrases, hoping they’d help. “I know”s, and “Almost there”s, and “I’m so proud of you baby”s were getting overused, but Whizzer still seemed to feel better when Marvin uttered each group of words. After all, they were Marvin’s words. The fact that they came from him, they were crafted in his mind, was comforting in itself.

Marvin kept walking, moving forth with a little more fever now. He could hear something, so he drew nearer. Closer and closer still, he heard a voice calling out to him. His name, over and over. ‘Marvin’.

He had to follow the voice. Though he was just a little faster than he was before, he kept following the voice. He was certain it was Whizzer - took him long enough. Finally, Whizzer had arrived to pick him up and take him home. He had been waiting ages.

Marvin walked. He could see him, up ahead. Whizzer. He walked a little faster, desperate to be in their shared bed, curled up with Whizzer next to him. He wanted to watch him sleep peacefully, and he wanted to feel Whizzer holding him - it was so close, he could almost feel it. He could feel Whizzer’s warmth, smell his cologne and hair gel, and see his stupid smile that Marvin adored.

Marvin let out a little chuckle, watching as Whizzer walked toward him too. Marvin felt relief wash over him, like all the tight heaviness in his chest was gone. He quickly fell into Whizzer, letting his weak legs give in as he clung to his lover for support.

“I missed you.” Marvin said, his eyes shut with a kind of serenity he hadn’t felt in god knows how long, while he spoke quietly. It was a hushed tone he reserved for just Whizzer.

“You saw me this morning, Marvin.”

Marvin’s eyes opened in confusion. The voice that replied wasn’t Whizzer - a woman responded. Marvin pulled back, grabbing the shoulders of whatever stranger he had just fallen into the arms of. He looked at her - Charlotte - confused as ever. She looked at him, and if Marvin wasn’t confused enough, her face was pale and her expression anxious. He blinked a few times, holding back the tears - the tears of confusion and fear - that overwhelmed him as he stared at her.

Why was he upset again? It was just Charlotte, nothing to be upset about. Marvin forgot who he’d even been looking for. He shook his head a little, getting out of his strange state of mind.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

Marvin said, feeling sheepish for having hugged a stranger so closely. Though, he shouldn’t consider her a stranger, really. Charlotte was a friend, even though he didn’t feel he knew her all that well. She was familiar, so it calmed Marvin’s nerves. Just a bit. He hadn’t even realised, but Charlotte had an arm around him, holding most of his weight. He was leaning into her for support so heavily. It explained why he felt so light, momentarily. He cleared his throat and continued to speak.

“I can’t seem to find my room.”

He chuckled a little bit, giving Charlotte another embarrassed expression. Charlotte was silent for a moment as Marvin smiled awkwardly down at her.

“Let’s get you back to bed, Marv.” She said bluntly.

“And I need the bathroom.” He said, feeling ashamed as ever.

Before he knew it - he didn’t even remember the journey - he was back in bed. He smiled a soft smile as a goodbye to Charlotte, and that was that. He turned over and looked at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?”

Whizzer asked quietly. Marvin hummed and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to tell Whizzer the news. He just shifted his body to wrap his arms around him, hold him closer if that was even possible. Whizzer didn’t seem to be taking that for an answer though. He pulled back and looked at Marvin. He raised an eyebrow. Marvin chuckled a little and sighed, rolling his eyes. Whizzer was almost definitely not letting this go. Marvin looked at him, the two’s eyes now locked onto each other’s.

“I’m sick.”

Marvin said abruptly, cruelly interrupting the moment. He’d have to tell Whizzer one day, he should get it out of the way as soon as he could. Whizzer looked confused, though he quickly realised what Marvin meant and shook his head in disbelief. He teared up and hid his face in Marvin’s shoulder. Marvin stroked his hair softly, brushing his entire hand over Whizzer’s head. He wasn’t wearing his beanie - a rare sight that was reserved for his lover. Marvin peppered kisses over Whizzer’s thinning hair, his lips making contact with his scalp. It was oddly comforting in a way, for the both of them.

“Tell me this is some sick joke, Marv.”

Whizzer begged. Marvin gave him a sad smile. He held him close again, but Whizzer’s tears were too much. Marvin cried too. The two cried together, sobbing. Whizzer couldn’t even sob, so he just weakly wept while Marvin did the crying for him. Eventually, Whizzer’s weak body couldn’t handle the tears and the two ended up resting silently, their bodies tangled together, nestled into each other for comfort.

“Marvin.”

Whizzer said. Marvin made a soft grunt noise to show him that he was awake and listening. Whizzer looked at him, his face worried.

“Who’s gonna take care of you?”

He asked. And Marvin knew exactly what he meant. Marvin had been here everyday, almost always the entire day, except for the times when he took Jason out. He wouldn’t have someone like that once he reached Whizzer’s state. He sighed and shrugged.

“I dunno.”

He admitted. Marvin had thought about it a thousand times after Dr Charlotte confirmed his results to him. He thought about it while he made breakfast, while he made tea. While he was with Jason, trying to calm his son’s mind from the deathly state his third father was in. While he was with Whizzer - both when Whizzer was awake and the two spoke to each other, and exactly the same while Marvin watched and held Whizzer’s sleeping body.

He thought about the all too harsh reality. That he’d be alone while he deteriorated.

“I can handle myself.”

He lied. He wouldn’t be able to handle himself in a year or two from now when he would be starting to feel unwell everyday, when he would try and ignore the way his waistbands all felt just a little loose. He felt sick even now, though it was probably placebo. There had to be some interesting physiological reason for it - being around someone you love being so sick all the time, maybe the body decided to feel sick too for a shared experience?

Something like that, it sounded about right. Since he’d been taking care of Whizzer so much, he could hide the fact he was constantly feeling faint by getting into the bed and holding Whizzer. In a way, Whizzer was there for him while he was sick. He just wouldn’t be there when it actually got bad, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be there until the end.

Though, something was better than nothing, Marvin concluded.

It was only reasonable that after a while of silently pushing through it all, Marvin’s body would obviously have had enough of his denial. He was glad he managed about 2 years without giving in. If his memory was correct, Charlotte said it was very rare for the illness to take this long to become apparent. Though that could’ve just been his brain tricking him so he could feel some kind of power out of all this. Kind of like ‘hey, I’m dying now, but I could’ve died much earlier! Good thing me and my body are so damn stubborn!’.

Being pushed into a hospital bed - the same one as Whizzer - felt like some cruel twisted fate. Marvin appreciated it though, deep down. If he focussed really hard, he could still smell Whizzer in the sheets and the pillow - but maybe that was just the silk shirt of his that he clung onto and doused in his favourite, discontinued cologne.

“Are you kidding me? Discontinued?!”

Whizzer said in pure shock and disbelief. Marvin was snapped out of his trance-like state. He had been present for the entire shopping trip, but when Whizzer began to walk around the entire shopping mall, shop to shop looking for this one, specific cologne - Marvin just zoned out and followed along. Whizzer was too antsy to start proper conversations anyway.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could say we had some left in stock but it’s all gone. I can help you find a different scent?” The shop clerk said and suggested kindly. Whizzer paused for a moment before bringing a hand up to drag down his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. He took a deep breath and let out a huff.

“That’s okay. Thank you for your help.” Whizzer walked away defeatedly, Marvin still following along like a little puppy. He grabbed Whizzer’s hand in his own and rubbed it a few times. Whizzer looked at him and forced out a little sad smile.

“It’s okay, baby. Your bottle is only half done. You still have plenty of use, yeah?” Marvin said, trying his best to speak softly and sound comforting. It seemed to work, because Whizzer straightened himself out and looked a little calmer, and maybe even a little happier.

He looked at Marvin and smiled. “You’re right. It’s annoying, and we’ve just run around for no reason but… I shouldn’t let it get me down.”

He said, the positivity only sounding a little forced. He let go of Marvin’s hand - the two tried not to hold hands in public, it was just a little risky. Marvin tucked his hand back into his jacket pocket. Whizzer put his arm around Marvin - it was counterproductive, but it made them seem more like friends than intertwining their fingers.

“I think you smell perfectly good as is.”

Marvin said, making his voice a little flirtatious. Whizzer chuckled and shoved him a bit. The two kept walking through the mall, but Marvin was getting tired. It was just about time to go home, where Whizzer would continue mourning his poor, discontinued cologne.

Though, Whizzer didn’t really have to worry about the cologne for very long. Marvin was left alone with only a little less than half of the bottle left. Now it was sufficiently drained. All this thinking and reminiscing was making Marvin feel sick again. He groaned and sighed. He curled over in his bed, painstakingly slow. He pulled the covers over him and let himself drift off entirely.

1984, Winter

Marvin laid in bed, nearly breathless as he stared at the ceiling. He held Whizzer’s shirt loosely in his hands. The usual routine of holding it to his face and inhaling deeply was near useless at this point, but he still tried to get a bit of Whizzer’s smell to grace him once again. Doing so made him out of breath, and his lungs would scream in both pain and a need for air. Soon enough Whizzer would come pick him up, so he wouldn’t need to cling to the shirt for too much longer.

Laying down made him feel hopeless and lazy, and although he had no choice but to be in this helpless state, sitting up made him feel just that little more productive. He grabbed the remote of the hospital bed with his shaking hands and propped himself up with the remote. ‘That’s enough’, he heard Whizzer’s voice say every time he needed Marvin to stop toying with the buttons of his hospital bed.

Marvin felt near abandoned at this point. Doctors barely bothered to check on him, he was much too far gone. He was left alone to struggle. He’d cough on his own. He’d fight through night sweats and horrible chills on his own. He would weakly get up and barely make it to the bathroom, on his own. He would take medicine and eat shitty hospital food on his own. He had been left to rot on his own. The only time when he wasn’t on his own was when he desperately needed fever medication.

Curled in bed once again, he heard a knock on the door. He tried to look, but moving his head was straining enough, almost as straining as calling out to invite whoever it was inside.

A teenage boy - His boy, Jason. Marvin forced a smile and slowly tried to turn to face his son. He felt himself get a little lighter. Jason sat down on the off-white, striped, cushioned chair next to the bed and Marvin smiled. He looked a little like him in the chair, sporting Marvin’s grey hoodie and now in the very seat Marvin spent his last few months with Whizzer in.

“Hi dad. How’s it going?”

Jason asked. His voice was gentle and kind. He was so mature for a boy his age, it made Marvin feel like he’d done a good job. He leaned down to get a better look at Marvin’s face.

“As good as it can be. How are you, Jace?” Marvin said, reaching out a hand to hold onto Jason’s. The 15 year old took his father’s hand and sighed.

“It’s hard. Going to school, knowing you’re here.” Jason admitted, his voice breaking a little. Marvin ran his thumb over Jason’s knuckles.

He held out his arms. Jason accepted the hug and melted into Marvin’s arms. He lingered there a while, resting against Marvin. It couldn’t be comfortable. Marvin’s bones were starting to protrude everywhere.

“There’s no reason to be so down,” Marvin started, “I’m sure your teachers understand? Mr Bennett’s nice.” Marvin said, remembering Jason’s English teacher from a parent teacher night some time ago. Jason looked at him, his face confused. Marvin tilted his head in confusion, his smile fading.

“Dad, I haven’t had Mr Bennett for 3 years now.” Jason replied bluntly, pulling back from his father. Marvin felt his eyes widen with shock. He nodded.

“Oh- Oh, yes. I can’t believe I - God, how’d I forget that?” Marvin forced a little laugh, becoming anxious when he thought about the abnormal memory gap. Jason seemed similarly anxious.

“Anyway. Mom and Mendel are worried sick. They think I’m gonna go jumping off a bridge one of these days.” Jason joked, trying to sound lighthearted. Marvin chuckled, though it came out as a weak wheeze.

“Trina always worries too much. You’ll be fine, Jason.” Marvin reassured. Jason looked at him sadly.

“I won’t though. I’m not sure how I’ll bear without you.” He admitted. Marvin couldn’t stand the idea of Jason being upset, though he knew it was inevitable.

“Your mom and Mendel love you so much. And your friends - I know you’ll make it through.” He said softly.

Inevitable. So he had to make the most of their time together. He tried his best to be entertaining for his son, but talking was hard so he let Jason take over. By the end of their conversations the two were just holding hands silently. Marvin gave his son a sad smile and sighed. Jason looked at him and blinked a few times. Was he upset? He shouldn’t get upset yet, Marvin thought.

“So that’s it, huh?” Jason said, his voice hushed.

“Goodbye, Jason.” Marvin said.

“Don’t say that.” Jason spat back. “I’m coming back tomorrow after school, okay?”

Marvin nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Jason gave Marvin a hug. Tighter than he thought his son could manage, though maybe his body was just that weak that he thought a normal hug was much tighter. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relish every aspect of his son while they hugged. His arms rested limply on the teenager’s back, and he tried his hardest to rub his back soothingly. He hoped Jason would appreciate it.

“I loved you more than anyone on this Earth. I love you more than anyone on this Earth.” Marvin said. As much as Jason denied it, the two of them knew. Jason had said it himself. That was it.

Jason left the room slowly, practically having to pry himself off of his father.

When night fell, Marvin was still trapped in his bed. He was exhausted. At this point, it felt like Marvin and the bed were one. The days of horrible symptoms were over, and now Marvin was just trapped in his bed. Though, maybe Marvin was still going through the terrible times and he was just forgetting they ever happened by the time night fell. That was all he seemed to do these days, forget and forget. Charlotte mentioned that some men were developing dementia as a side effect - Marvin couldn’t forget that. Not yet at least. He couldn’t forget the way his stomach dropped, not yet.

Charlotte walked in, with Cordelia following behind. Cordelia hadn’t visited in a bit, so she couldn’t hide her expression when she saw the state Marvin was in. They both knew his time had been spent. Marvin forced a weak smile. It only took a moment for Cordelia to burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed loudly, you’d think Marvin was already gone.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry…” Marvin managed to get out.

“This is so unfair. I’m going to miss you so much, Marv.” Cordelia said, her voice quiet and upset.

“He’s not gone yet, Delia, Jesus.” Charlotte’s voice was strained, like she had to squeeze it all out of herself.

When Marvin looked closer though, he could see Charlotte tearing up herself. He so desperately wished that the two wouldn’t cry.

“If it’s even possible,” Marvin managed to whisper. “I’m gonna miss you guys too.” He said softly.

It was hard to have a good time, but Marvin was satisfied just sitting in the company of his friends. He didn’t have much energy to talk, so listening to them talk was enough. He ended up drifting off, but he felt Cordelia hug him and squeeze him gently, followed by Charlotte. He wished he could force himself to rouse and hug them both back, but before he could he heard their heels begin to click out of the room.

“Wait,” He forced out. “Thank you guys.” He said as they both left the room with sad little smiles and waves.

His eyes drifted to the heart monitor. His pulse was weak. Slow and weak and seeming to finally be giving in. He was so tired. Everything was hurting, all over. He couldn’t even turn to look at his photo of Whizzer. He closed his eyes and tried to picture him. He thought about one of the times he saw Whizzer asleep in bed. He was curled up, messy hair, in endearing winter pyjamas. He looked so peaceful while he slept. He didn’t snore or toss and turn, he just laid on the bed like a perfect angel. Marvin would hold him while he slept. If only he could do that for even an hour more.

Whizzer filled every little corner of Marvin’s mind, and every small crevice of his room. Marvin could feel Whizzer’s hands in his own. He always liked Whizzer’s hands. They were bigger than Marvin’s, but still somehow cute. They were manly, in a way. He looked down at his hands to see the two hands that he held in his own. He used his eyes and followed up the arms of the hands to see Whizzer sitting on the bed, smiling gently. He wore his pink polo shirt and blue jumper tied around his shoulders and his brown fitted pants. Marvin softened at the sight of his lover.

The anticipation, the waiting, the longing of the past days, desperately waiting for Whizzer to pick him up, it all melted away. He was finally here.

“Marvin.”

He said, his voice soft and sweet. Marvin felt himself react immediately, he let out a little chuckle and felt tears brim his eyelids. It was heavenly. Whizzer’s voice, finally.

“You came.” Marvin says.

“You called.” Whizzer replies.

He came closer to Marvin. He leant in quietly and caught Marvin in a gentle kiss, his lips relaxed as he brought his arms around his exhausted lover. He held Marvin, safe in his arms. He stared at Whizzer, holding both sides of his face with his cold hands. He admired each feature, just holding onto his face like the sight could leave him at any moment. Whizzer tightened his arms around Marvin and leant his head down to whisper in his ear.

“And I thought I looked sick, Jesus Christ Marv.”

Marvin chuckled. Whizzer held him and began to remove the hospital gowns Marvin had been subjected to. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he sat on the bed, frail and exposed to Whizzer. He began to push Marvin back, his fingertips forceful yet delicate with his bare body. He was pushed further and further still, until he was sitting on the pillow and his back was pressed against the wall, wrists pinned onto the wall. Then, Whizzer kissed him like crazy. Everything felt serene, the yellow lights of the room, the white sheets of the bed, as Whizzer ran his hands along Marvin’s body.

Whizzer broke the kiss. Looking down, Marvin noticed that instead of his bare, starved figure, he was wearing his fitted dark blue polo shirt. It was as if, when Whizzer ran his hands down Marvin’s body, his fingers gracing Marvin suddenly filled out body, his touch reversing the weight loss he’d suffered. Marvin leant forward and kissed Whizzer with an amount of fever he had been certain he would never manage again. He leant into the embrace, all the terrible times of the past months, years, melting away in an instant.

He was standing with Whizzer now. The two clung onto each other, but Marvin suddenly felt he no longer needed support to stand. He looked behind himself, then looked back for a second to glance at Whizzer again - though he was gone. Marvin turned back around to look behind himself once again. His body was lifeless. His thin, frail body was finally empty. He was gone, the heart monitor beginning to scream for attention, though there wasn’t anything left to do. He felt himself smile and let out a few sobs, cries of both pain and catharsis as he watched doctors and nurses file in. He wished they would leave his poor, tired body be. Regardless, he was free. Marvin finally closed his eyes, finally let go.

He was gone. He was home.