Skeletons In Closet

Like father like son - we both are idiots

Carter was groggy. His throat hurt, his body hurt and he had hard time opening his eyes. When he finally managed to lift his eyelids he found himself in a strange place. Last thing he remembered he was in his apartment. How did he end up in this place? Where was he? He tried to get up but that has proven to be a difficult task. His body was as heavy as lead. He also realized he was tucked in very well and decided to simply turn his head around and observe his surroundings. Clearly, he was in a hospital, with IV attached to his arm. Cameron was asleep, one hand tucked under his chin. Carter smiled; Cameron always slept with his hand tucked in under his chin as if he was propping his head up. His son was the cutest kid on earth, Carter thought. He decided to broach the subject of their deteriorating relationship when he got a chance. Oh, and he needed to ask Cameron why he was in the hospital, hooked up to all these tubes. His head felt like a cotton ball, all fuzzy and cloudy, before he knew it, he succumbed to slumber again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Cameron woke up, Carter was still asleep. He stretched and got up. He needed to find Armand before Armand showed up and started asking prodding questions from the standard suicide prevention checklist they had. The last thing Cameron wanted was to put Carter into a tough spot. Carter would have a lot to deal with when he divulged his secrets; he needed Carter as calm as possible.

The conversation with Armand had proven to be an uneasy one. Of course Armand was a regular pain in his posterior and tried to call a psychiatrist after he found out about the note. In his mind that was enough premeditation to consider Carter suicidal and send him to a psychiatric ward. Cameron had reminded Armand that he was over two hours late and because of the strenuous relationship father and son had, Carter must have felt neglected, especially as it was his birthday. Cameron begged his friend to see his point of view and promised that he would clear everything up before Carter left the hospital.

So when he finally walked back into Carter's room, he was strung tight as a bow; tiny threads of extreme thoughts were weaving a blanket of despair on his soul.

Carter was waking up. He blinked a few times to clear the sleepiness from his head and turned to Cameron.

Cameron asked how was Carter, checked his vitals, propped him up in bed and called the nurse on duty.

While the nurse performed her checkup and made small talk, Cameron stood at the window, trying to get his emotions under control.

Carter waited until the nurse left the room before he wanted to know why he was in the hospital. His voice was raspy and he complained about a sore throat. Cameron gave him the painkiller left by the nurse and described how he found him the night before. When all was said and Carter recalled the events of the previous night, Cameron decided it was time to have the talk.

"Carter, I refuse to allow the doctors to send you for psychiatric evaluation. I don't know what was going through your mind when you decided to take those pills, but I plan to make sure you do not try this again. I want to take care of you, I want you to get better but there are some things you need to know about me. Growing up we were always so close and I loved it. Nobody else's dad spent so much time with their kid as you did, I was the kid with the best dad in the school. You remember one morning we had our first fight? I yelled at you for being so much in my business, broke the plate with omelette you made and ran to school. I had a dream the night before and woke up all sticky and still stiff. That was the first time I did my own laundry because I was ashamed you'd see the sticky mess."

Cameron threaded his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself down, his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath. This was it!

"It was an erotic dream. I was making out with another man. That was the day I realized I was gay."

Carter looked at his distraught child and smiled sadly.

"You decided you hated my guts because you were afraid I would not accept you? Cameron, have I taught you nothing? There is nothing, absolutely nothing, you can tell me that will make me love you any less. You are my child."

"I don't want to be your child!" Cameron burst out.

He looked at Carter's ashen face, calmed himself yet again and spoke quietly.

"Carter, I do not want to be your child. In fact, I decided to give up your last name."

Cameron did not have enough time to explain what he meant because the next second Carter was making choking sounds and grasping for air. His face turned red and his eyes looked panicked yet pleading. Cameron had to act fast. In two strides he reached for Carter's face, layed him down and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After the third try, Carter was able to breathe but he promptly burst into tears.

"Carter, the man I was making out with in my dream was you. I have loved you for the past 10 years. I thought it was a phase. It's not. I refuse to carry your last name unless you give it to me in marriage."

Without giving Carter anytime to process the bombshell he just dropped, Cameron leaned in and firmly attached his lips to Carter's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following day Carter was released from the hospital and Cameron drove him home. Carter's home. Cameron went in to dispose of all the old medications and properly chewed Carter out for keeping them when he didn't need them anymore. Because he was becoming somewhat paranoid, he checked all the cabinets in the apartment to ensure Carter didn't have anything else stashed away. They had ordered in some pizza for dinner, watched an ever present documentary on Science Channel and talked about anything but the proverbial elephant in the room.

When Cameron left that night, Carter was very drained and although his thoughts were jumbled, he made an effort to clear his head and go to sleep.

The following week Cameron called and dropped by daily to check on Carter. He kept his distance and made some small talk. Carter looked like a deer caught in the headlights, he had one thought on a permanent loop in his head.

Another week passed by and Cameron was starting to feel like Carter had fallen back into his usual routine, until his doorbell rang that Friday night. Carter made his way into the living room, sat on a couch and awkwardly asked Cameron for a kiss. Cameron's face almost split from the size of his smile. Of course he'd kiss Carter.

They spent the weekend together without leaving the apartment. Cameron got his wish two weeks later.