THE DRIVE TO the hospital only took fifteen minutes, but with Donnie in so much pain it seemed twice as long. Ben had to make one emergency stop by the side of the deserted road when Donnie groaned and pressed his hand to his mouth again. Leaning over Donnie, Ben just about got the door open, and Donnie gagged, sick splattering into the weeds. When Ben leaned over him again to close the door, a furious heat came from Donnie’s skin.

Getting Donnie into the ER was a challenge. Ben haphazardly parked curbside and helped Donnie out of the car, and for a moment, it looked like Donnie would faint right there, he was so white. Ben held him close, and they stood for a moment, unmoving. Donnie was shaking, and his icy fingers clung to Ben with painful intensity.

Somehow they got into the hospital. They’d just made it through the automatic doors when Donnie stopped dead. Ben glanced down at him with alarm. “What is it?”

“R-really need the bathroom.”

Ben looked around and spotted a disabled restroom just off to the right. “Over there.” Donnie let himself be led but pulled away from Ben once they got to the bathroom.

“Can manage,” he mumbled, embarrassment coloring his pallid cheeks.

Ben let him go.

“All right, but don’t lock the door. I’ll wait right here.” Donnie was gone a long ten minutes, and Ben was worried. But just when he had decided to go check on Donnie, the bathroom door opened. Ben grabbed for him just as Donnie’s knees gave way. His face was gray and sweaty, and he felt very hot in Ben’s arms.

“Got you. It’s okay.” Ben looked around. A male nurse was just passing, and Ben waved the man over. “Can you give us a hand? I think my friend’s gonna pass out.”

The nurse hurried to get a wheelchair, and Ben lowered Donnie into it. As soon as he sat down, Donnie curled up, sobbing.

“Let’s find a bed for you,” the nurse said and pushed the wheelchair into the triage area of the ER, which was quiet. He disappeared for a couple of minutes, then came back with a chart and beckoned Ben to follow. “Right this way.”

The nurse wheeled Donnie into a curtained-off area, where he helped him out of the chair and onto a narrow bed. Donnie rolled onto his right side and pulled his legs up against his body. He shook with enough force to make the bedframe rattle.

“I’ve got to ask you a few questions. I’ll be really quick,” the nurse said. “I’m Jay, by the way.”

“Okay,” Donnie breathed. Ben stepped closer to the bed.

Jay asked Donnie’s name, date of birth, and when the pain had started. When he asked for Donnie’s insurance details, Donnie turned his head away and said nothing. Jay gave a sympathetic smile and patted Donnie’s arm.

“Don’t worry about it.” He put another tick on the clipboard, then turned to go. “The doctor will be here in a few minutes. You’re lucky. It’s really quiet tonight.” He left, pulling the curtain closed behind himself. Ben went over to Donnie and stroked his hair. Donnie buried his face in the pillow with another sob.

It only took five minutes until a doctor in green scrubs and a lab coat peeked through the curtains. He looked very young, but gave them a reassuring smile as he came over to the bed.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Singh.” He looked at his clipboard. “It’s Donnie, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Donnie, can you lie on your back for a few minutes, so I can examine you?”

“Okay.” Donnie stretched out on his back with a groan, and Ben helped him rearrange his pillow. Donnie’s right hand clutched at the sheets hard. Ben’s heart hurt to see Donnie in so much pain. Feeling miserable for the other man, Ben put one hand on Donnie’s shoulder.

Dr. Singh stepped close, but before he could touch him, Donnie lifted his hand. “Wait...” He looked around at Ben, and Ben was dismayed to see tears in Donnie’s eyes. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Donnie kept looking at him, anguish etched onto his face. Ben reached out to grasp Donnie’s hand, but Donnie pulled it away. Then he took a deep breath and glanced back at the doctor. “You gotta be careful. I-I’m positive...”

It took a moment for Ben to understand what Donnie meant. When the words hit home, all the air disappeared from his lungs. He stared at Donnie, whose eyes brimmed with tears. This explained so much. Why hadn’t he guessed sooner?

But the shock only lasted a second. Ben took a deep breath to steady himself. With deliberate gentleness, he picked up Donnie’s hand from where he had balled it into a fist on the bed. A single tear spilled over and slid down Donnie’s face. Not breaking eye contact, Ben lifted Donnie’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers, then held them tight. He could feel tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes, too. Nobody spoke for a moment. Donnie closed his eyes, his breath hitching in his throat.

At last, Dr. Singh broke the silence. “Did you recently change medication, Donnie?” He went over to a cabinet, took some gloves from a box, and pulled them on. The doctor wanted to calm Donnie’s fears. A simple examination posed no risk of infection.

“Yeah,” Donnie said. “My viral load went up, so the doc switched one of my pills. New one’s called Retrovir.”

“When did he switch you over?” Dr. Singh pushed up Donnie’s shirt, then pressed carefully on his stomach, and Donnie flinched, gripping Ben’s hand hard.

“‘Bout two weeks ago. Been gettin’ worse an’ worse since...ouch!”

“I’m sorry, Donnie.” The doctor withdrew his hands. “I want to run a few more tests, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got acute pancreatitis. It’s unfortunately not an uncommon side effect with Retrovir. There are a few other drugs in that same category available. I’ll switch you to one of them for the time being.” He pulled Donnie’s shirt down again. “Do you know why your doctor chose Retrovir?”

With a grimace of pain, Donnie tried to roll back over onto his side but couldn’t manage on his own. Ben helped him, then put one hand on Donnie’s neck, stroking him.

Donnie’s arms went back around his middle, and he shuddered. “Can’t afford the others. I’m on this NGO program, getting help with the meds. They don’t pay for the pills my doc said he’d usually prescribe.”

“Hmm.” The doctor frowned. “We’re a county hospital, so you get your acute treatment free. Before you leave, I’ll make sure you get a few weeks’ supply of a drug you can tolerate.”

“Okay.” Donnie had started to shiver, the sweat that had soaked into his T-shirt cooling him down in the air-conditioned ER. He drew his legs up as tightly as he could and closed his eyes with a groan. Ben pulled the blankets up over his trembling shoulders.

“Can you give him something for the pain?” he asked the doctor.

“No...no morphine,” Donnie gasped.

Ben frowned and leaned down, pushing strands of sweaty hair off Donnie’s forehead. “You’re allowed painkillers. I can’t bear to see you like this.” He glanced up at Dr. Singh. “Donnie’s got a history of drug abuse, but he’s been clean for several years.”

The doctor put a hand on Donnie’s arm. “Let’s start with codeine. You’re unlikely to get addicted to that in a few days. I’ll also prescribe some IV NSAIDs and pancreatic enzyme tablets. You’ll start to feel better quickly once we get those into you. I’ll have Jay come back in a moment and give you the meds, then get you admitted and the tests organized.”

“Do I have to stay?” Donnie asked, his voice very small.

The doctor nodded, his expression grave. “I’m afraid so. We’ll have to give you fluids and nutrients. You won’t be able to eat anything while your pancreas is this inflamed. And we need to monitor it closely for necrosis.”

Donnie shuddered again, and Ben asked, “You going to be sick?”

Donnie nodded. Dr. Singh grabbed a plastic basin for Ben, who got it under Donnie just in time. Donnie only brought up a little bile, then whimpered and curled up again.

The doctor’s expression was full of sympathy. “We’ll get you admitted now. I’ll go and arrange everything. Try and rest.”

He left, and Ben pulled a chair up close to the bed. Donnie’s feverish eyes watched him. Ben lifted his hand and stroked Donnie’s cheek, surprising them both.

“You were scared to tell me, about the HIV.” The realization made Ben sad, and he had to swallow hard to keep the tears at bay. Now he understood why Donnie had been so spooked about him caring for the cut on his eyebrow, after Floyd’s beating.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to… My viral load’s been undetectable for over a year, and when we met...I’d only just found out the meds weren’t working no more, couple days before Sergeant Browne picked me up.” Donnie’s eyes clouded with pain again, and Ben put a hand on his neck.

“You were worried for nothing,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. This doesn’t change a thing between us.”

A tear ran down Donnie’s temple and disappeared into his hair. He groped for Ben’s other hand and gripped it. Ben squeezed his fingers.

“Why did you let this get so bad, though?” he asked. “Why didn’t you stop taking the pills?”

“Doc told me they’d get my viral load down. I’m scared, Ben.”

“Scared of what?”

“Getting sick. Infecting someone.”

Ben rubbed his face and sighed. “I’m so sorry.” This was awful. Donnie tried so hard to do the right thing, following his doctor’s instructions to the letter. But it wasn’t good enough. The poor guy was terrified out of his mind and suffering more now than before for his troubles. Ben racked his brain for something to say that would make Donnie feel better, but nothing came to mind.

“I’m sorry,” Donnie whispered after a while.

“Nothing to be sorry about. You rest now. We can talk more when you feel better.” But Donnie groaned and tried to push himself up.

“Shit...”

“Bathroom?” Ben asked.

“Yeah.”

Ben only just managed to get Donnie to the nearest restroom. He was so weak, he could hardly walk. Yet he still pulled away from Ben and went into the single-occupancy bathroom alone. When he finally reemerged, he shook all over, and Ben as good as carried him back to their curtained area.

He had just helped Donnie lie down on the bed when Jay reappeared. “Ah, you’re back. I was wondering where you’d gone.”

“Sorry,” Donnie breathed. Jay put on gloves and came over with syringes and needles.

“That’s okay,” he said. “You feeling any better?” When Donnie shook his head, the nurse grimaced in commiseration. He raised a syringe. “Can I have your arm? This will definitely help. Let’s get you dosed up and admitted, then you can rest.”

Jay worked swiftly but was gentle and explained each step. He put an IV in the back of Donnie’s hand, and the needle went in so fast that Donnie didn’t even have time to flinch.

Jay injected a syringe into the new port. “This is the codeine. You’ll feel it working really quickly.” He then poured a small amount of water into a plastic glass and selected two tablets from a small bottle. “And these are the enzymes. They’ll help your pancreas to rest, and it’ll start to heal faster.” He helped Donnie swallow the tablets and waited a minute to see that they stayed down. Then he selected a different syringe. “I’ll need to take some blood now, Donnie.”

There was real fear in Donnie’s eyes, and Ben took his hand. Jay said, “I’ll be really careful, I promise. Look.” He held up his hands. “Special gloves, extra thick. I’m safe.” He glanced at Ben as Donnie relaxed. “It’s nice of you to worry about us, Donnie. Most people couldn’t care less.”

By the time Jay had helped Donnie change into a hospital gown and hooked him up to a saline drip, Donnie’s eyes glazed over as the painkillers took effect. Relief flooded Ben when the awful pain at last drained from Donnie’s face. He squeezed Donnie’s hand.

“Go to sleep. The worst is over now.”

“Hmm,” Donnie hummed, curled up, and was asleep in under a minute. Shortly after, two orderlies appeared and wheeled Donnie on his bed into an elevator and took him to the ICU. Ben went with them. He woke Donnie when they got into the single occupancy room, and helped him crawl onto the big bed there. He covered him with blankets as the orderlies hung Donnie’s IV on a stand. Then the two men left and took the ER bed with them. Donnie was asleep again before the door closed behind them.