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They rushed through the house, up a narrow set of stairs, and down a hallway. Troy opened a door, revealing a dimly lit bedroom covered in band posters and a bed in the corner. Leo was on his back, his face turned toward the wall. His skin was ashen, eyes closed, and one arm flopped to the side. He had no shirt on, and Oliver couldn’t miss the track marks in the crook of his elbow even if he wanted to.
“Fuck,” Oliver breathed. “He’s been shooting up?”
Troy frowned. “Yeah, man. For the last few months. He’s been alright with it up to now. Pretty chill, weekend shit, you know? For parties. But lately he’s been hitting me and Mikey up for more. I don’t know what Mikey gave him, but fuck…”
Oliver broke out of his shock, rushing to Leo’s side, and his fingers felt for a pulse. It was there, fluttering and weak, but thrumming against the pads of his fingers. “Gabe,” Oliver said very slowly, “you need to call an ambulance.”
“Aw man, come on,” Troy said, sounding panicked. “Can’t you just take him home and let him sleep it off?”
Oliver turned heated eyes on Troy, feeling murderous. “If he dies, I will come after you. I hope you realize this. You and Mikey both. Gabe, call the fucking ambulance. Troy, you have maybe three minutes to get everyone out.”
Troy looked furious but scared as he scrambled from the room. Gabe was already on the call, and Oliver could hear Troy’s raised voice trying to get everyone’s attention.
Feeling like he might vomit, Oliver turned his attention back to Leo who was stone still. His breathing was shallow, his chest struggling, and he had the sick realization that this might be it. Leo actually might not pull out of this one.
Standing up a bit, he leaned over his sibling to check the other arm and saw the deep bruises there. “Fuck,” he hissed, palming Leo’s cheek. It was all he could do to not slap him over and over. “What the fuck were you thinking, you stupid bastard?”
For his part, Gabe was calm and collected. He handled the call expertly, checking his pulse, his breathing. Within five minutes, three paramedics were racing up the stairs of the near-empty house. Oliver was shuffled to the side, Gabe taking his hand as they took over and assessed the situation.
“Definitely an overdose,” the tallest one said. He turned to the couple. “Do you know how much he took?”
Oliver shook his head. “No. I didn’t even know he was using. I…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “We were downstairs. A friend came and got us. He told us he’d taken too much.”
The paramedic looked grim but began searching and came up with a used syringe and a small, empty baggy. He slipped it into a plastic bag, then the three of them got Leo strapped to a gurney and began the trek down the stairs.
Oliver followed, Gabe close at his heels, and he hesitated at the ambulance door.
“There’s a few cops on their way. They’re going to want to talk to you about this. It’s mandatory we call this in, I’m sorry. You can meet him at St Mark’s after this, alright?”
Oliver felt bile in his throat, but he nodded as the ambulance doors slammed shut. With a whine of the siren, the vehicle sped off just as a cop car arrived. Oliver felt numb as he gave his statement, providing everything he knew, including Mikey and Troy’s names.
Gabe seemed mildly concerned, but he didn’t say anything much as the cop finished up with Oliver, then sent them on their way.
“Come on, let’s get a cab,” Gabe said, grabbing Oliver’s fingers.
Oliver nodded as Gabe fired up his app, and they waited on the side of the street. Everything was threatening to hit him all at once, and he closed his eyes tight against the onslaught of panic and worry. “Fuck,” he breathed out, harsh and sharp. “Fuck. He might actually die. He could…there’s a chance…”
Gabe quieted his words with a soft embrace, pressing a kiss to the side of Oliver’s neck. “You knew this could happen. You’ve known it for years. But he was breathing when they got there. It’s going to be a rough road for him when he wakes up, but don’t start thinking about him like he’s already gone.”
Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Oliver let Gabe push him into the cab, and they made the drive to the hospital twenty minutes away. Gabe paid, letting Oliver hurry into the lobby, and the nurses looked up Leo’s information.
“I’m sorry we can’t let anyone back there just yet. He’s being worked on.”
Oliver felt his stomach twist. “Worked on. What does that mean? Is he…has he…?”
“He’s coded twice, but he’s stable for now. We’ll have someone call you back as soon as he can have visitors.”
Oliver’s knees went weak, and he nearly fell. Gabe caught him and eased him into a nearby chair. Their hands linked, and Oliver leaned forward, his eyes tight shut. He wondered if maybe he stayed that way, in the dark, holding his breath, not letting himself feel, maybe it would all pass. Maybe it would all stop.
He wasn’t so naïve that he would believe such a thing, but for that agonizing second, he let himself hope. When he opened his eyes, he was still there. It hadn’t passed, and Leo was still fighting for his life.
“He can’t die. He can’t. He can’t leave me here alone like this,” Oliver muttered, his voice high and tight. There was a bubble of hysteria building behind his ribs, and it was by sheer will alone he didn’t give into it.
Gabe’s grip on him tightened, and he yanked him so close, their foreheads crashed together. “It’s going to be alright, Oliver. Whatever happens, it’s going to be alright. You’re not alone. I’m here.”
Oliver swallowed thickly, unable to speak another word. For the first time since they’d met, he couldn’t take comfort in Gabriel’s words.
Nineteen
