Arriving at Xander’s home to be cared for like a helpless invalid was mortifying enough, but having Tommy deliver me was one indignity too many. However, there was no swaying the man when he was determined on a set course.

“You took me to the hospital, didn’t you?” I asked. Tommy nodded. I was pretty sure that was the case, but I’d been hoping it had been a vivid nightmare. “Well, I guess what our parents always told us is true.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but you know I can’t let a comment like that go.”

“I survived,” I said, waiting… when his brow furrowed, I explained. “Therefore it really isn’t possible to die of embarrassment.”

My comment didn’t elicit a smile. Tommy shook his head at me and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. For the first time in months, we were truly alone together. Not even Frankie was here to act as intermediary. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I attempted to thank him again. Well, kind of. As if my words would inspire him to drop me off on the side of the road, I said, “You really don’t have to do this. I could take a cab or someone could pick me up or–”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here, I hurried your discharge along, and I’m taking you to Xander and Julian’s. Or would you rather have Greg lecture you again, before depositing you on his baby brother’s doorstep?” he asked archly.

The fury Dr. Greg unleashed upon my person yesterday evening had been quite enough. Greg was still a glorious shade of grayish-green from his own bout with food poisoning, but he showed up for work and I suspected he did so solely for the opportunity to rain fire and brimstone upon me. He was furious that I’d gone to such lengths to hide my diabetes from my friends, endangering myself in the process. But, more to the point, he was incensed on his best friend’s behalf, that I had wounded Tommy so harshly and thrown away our burgeoning love.

For some reason, the discharge process alone was thoroughly exhausting. Regardless of the tension between us and despite the fact that I was mortified by everything he had witnessed Sunday night, I was soothed by Tommy’s presence and hoped that talking now would open the door to a friendship I would cherish.

“Go ahead. Get it out of your system,” I told Tommy. He must have been waiting for days to yell at me. But rather than the melodrama I’d expected, he was quiet to a foreboding degree.

“Why did you keep this a secret?” he asked, looking straight ahead as though the traffic light was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Habit. I can’t stand the scrutiny as everyone watches every bite of food I take, checking to see if I’m shaky or confused or...” I trailed off. “You know how unusual I can be — I’m always getting caught up in my thoughts and I can be pretty absent-minded. I don’t want that to constantly worry everyone.”

“You know that’s a weak excuse, right?” Tommy asked. I nodded. I’d hoped I could get away with that, mostly because I had worked hard to avoid examining my reasoning… until this whole debacle.

I was fully aware of my faulty logic. But didn’t everyone prefer to keep their greatest weakness private? Ever since my diagnosis, that was what I considered diabetes to be. It had killed my father when Joy and I were toddlers and worried my mother for three years before she died of a heart attack. I knew at some point I’d have to confide in the man I fell in love with, but my relationship with Tommy had flared so quickly and I was loath to forever alter the way he saw me… and then it became this colossal secret I’d been keeping from him.

“You could have trusted me. I wouldn’t have gotten bent out of shape and I would have been a lot more relaxed about your health because I can read the signs better than most people. I know how you can adjust for circumstances and… I would have tried to make things easier for you, not harder.”

“I know,” I said. He was right, of course. A health professional could have easily swung in the exact opposite direction, but Tommy wasn’t like that.

“Did you actually remove your insulin pump whenever we were together? Like, even when we were just snuggling on the couch?” he whispered into the silence of the car, the slight shake in his voice belying his calm demeanor.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I took it off right before our first date and didn’t put it back on until we broke up.”

“So... what you’re saying is... you risked your health to an extreme degree because you didn’t trust me.” He put up a hell of a fight, but a tear escaped his eye.

“Not an extreme degree. I checked my blood sugar more often, administered insulin as needed. It was like an experiment to see if I could go without it permanently. I was actually more cautious,” I rationalized. It was true, of course. I wanted to be as well as possible because he would know if I wasn’t, and I wanted to be well for him.

“Have they put you on a continuous glucose monitor?” he asked, cutting off my thoughts.

“You know they have.”

“John, I didn’t look at your chart. You should have some privacy, even from a nurse,” he said wearily. “Will you wear it?”

“Yes.” At this point, I didn’t dare not to. The number of health professionals lecturing me several times per shift was astonishing. They were all angry that I’d upset Tommy. And Greg. But mostly Tommy.

“Did it become too hard to hide? Is that why you ended things?”

I had been waiting for this question, but it was still hard to admit. “No, that’s not why. At first I didn’t tell you because, well, how often do people discuss their medical history on a first date? So I waited and then it started to morph into a terrible secret and… I planned to tell you after my annual checkups. But then I actually went to my checkups. You know Type 1 diabetes has certain complications that develop over time. Most of them are pretty inevitable.”

“Complications,” he muttered. Then, he heaved a sigh and asked, “What did they say? What’s your prognosis? You don’t have to answer that. It doesn’t matter. Well, it matters to you. But at least… can you tell me… whatever it is, is it terminal?”

“No,” I told him. I could have said more. Should have. But the words wouldn’t pass my lips: I’m going blind.

Silence reigned as we crossed the bridge over the Hudson River. Within a few minutes, Tommy parked the car and appeared by my door before I’d even gotten a chance to open it. I didn’t need him to help me out, but that hadn’t been his intent. He wanted to loom over me before I became too tall again.

Tommy’s lips brushed over mine in a whisper of a kiss and I gazed up at his beautiful face. A fire lit his eyes and his hands on my shoulders tensed in an iron grip.

“Don’t you ever, EVER worry your friends and sister like that again! Ever! Do you know, Frankie was terrified? And I almost didn’t come over when Julian first called me. He had to explain, because I thought you were just miserably sick like everyone else. I. HAD. NO. CLUE. YOU. WERE. IN. DANGER!” He shouted at me. I stayed seated and accepted his anger, as it was so richly deserved. “And thank god you broke up with me because god knows, I can’t be with someone who underestimates me like that. What kind of…”

He turned from me and I stood to wrap him in my arms. He felt so good, so perfect against my body. I let him cry and explained, "If I told you what was going on, you're such a good person that you would have been noble and stuck it out. You deserve better than that."

"You're a moron," he said, trying to shrug off my hands. I kissed the top of his head and released him. “And you’re right. Kind of. If you’d been honest with me, I would have stuck it out. But it wouldn’t have been because I was being noble. You know, I really lo– I really cared about you, Johnny. But now? Well, we can be friends. I really do enjoy spending time with you.”

My heart twisted into a trefoil knot. I was elated that I hadn’t lost Tommy’s presence in my life, and that this wouldn’t be a battle… but there was also a bone-deep despair that his ‘cared’ was past-tense and he was no longer interested in a relationship. I’d been ready to argue with him that being together would be unfair to him, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera… but apparently it wasn’t necessary. In fact, no lies had been necessary in the first place. He agreed.

I had no idea what odd expression was plastered on my face, but Tommy rubbed my arm and added, “Diabetes isn’t a death sentence unless you make it one. Sure, some things are inevitable, and we both know you’ll have challenges, but it’s manageable. Your body would have handled this emergency a lot better if it hadn’t been so unstable to begin with. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I will,” I promised. I rang the bell and there was an immediate commotion on the other side of the door.

And there, the conversation ended, because the door swung open and Julian and his daughter —why did I always forget her name?— and our dogs began ushering me inside. Tommy just waved goodbye and left me alone with their smotheringly comforting love.

I hated feeling so weak, but there was no way I could get around being this exhausted. Julian chattered about every kind and thoughtful thing he and his family had done to make my next few days comfortable, such as unpacking my belongings and texting with Tommy about whether I’d eaten lunch. Was I a toddler unable to talk for myself? I knew I was being ungrateful but this was so overwhelming. I considered interrupting, but it was too much of an effort to fight the tide. Julian led me to my room, his daughter on his heels carrying Frankie, and his boxer head-butting me in the rear every time I slowed down. When we arrived, Julian pointed to the bed and commanded that I sleep. Without a word —I was pretty sure I’d never heard her talk— his daughter handed me my pug, and they left.

I spent a few minutes saying hello to Frankie and reassuring him that I’d be okay. I knew, deep down, that Frankie had begun refusing to eat alone because he wanted to be sure I ate. That was too much pressure to put on my dog. He was barely two years old — just a teenager, in human years. “I’m so sorry, Frankie. I promise I’ll take care of myself now, so you don’t have to worry about me or feel responsible for my health. I know I scared you a lot Sunday night, and I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening to us again.”

He huffed at my apology, as if to say, ‘Don’t be silly, I’ll always take care of you.’ Then he licked and nuzzled my chin to assure me that he appreciated my intention to take better care of myself. I tried to assemble my next thought, to explain things to him, but before I knew it I had fallen asleep.

When I awoke, Frankie was watching from the foot of the bed as Xander and Julian’s son went through my dresser drawers. Well, not my dresser per se, but the drawers of the dresser in my room.

“You’re home from school,” I said dumbly. He turned his head and grinned unrepentantly, his very white teeth glowing against his dark skin.

“You’re awake! Oh good! I was just making sure everything was here that you needed. I figured you might want to shower the hospital off you and change, but I wasn’t sure what you’d want and I thought maybe you’d have something comfortable but you don’t so Xander and I will have to go shopping. Or Julian. They both love shopping so they might duel over the privilege. Or they might both go because Kendall and I can stay home alone and take care of you, but that probably won’t happen because they’re still super overprotective and don’t like leaving us home alone. Which is ridiculous, you know? She's sixteen and I'm fifteen! But that’s okay. Julian and Xander care and that means everything to us. Anyway, we did a lot of reading about diabetes and different insulins and insulin pumps and blood sugar monitors and Tommy told us what brands and models you have because we wanted to be sure we could help you.”

“Please breathe,” I said. They had really done all that? For me? They were kids! Just like Frankie, they shouldn’t feel like they had to do that. “You know, I’m an adult and can take care of myself. I will take care of myself now.”

“Doesn’t matter. It helps us to know that kind of stuff. We like to be prepared and it gave us something to do. By the way, you might not see Kendall for a little bit. She can be shy and... well, you might not see her. But she cares and she’s here and you can always talk to either of us. I know you don’t talk much and I talk a lot, but I’m a good listener and I don’t judge or share the really private stuff. Do you want to shower or eat first? I brought a healthy low-carb snack.”

“I think I’ll eat. And I do have comfy clothes.”

“Not comfy enough. We’ll bring you back fleece and flannel and soft t-shirts. Remember you don’t have to hide your pump or monitor now so you can dress however you want and you need to be comfortable right now. Don’t fight me on this.” I really couldn’t fight against the tidal wave of words and firm concern. I barely knew Xander’s son (Mike? Mark? Oh, Marcus!), but he was a really good kid that I respected a great deal. When the teens had all lived in the shelter, he'd looked out for his new sister and taken Chance's twin brothers under his wing. I really couldn’t imagine going through what they had and still being that frakking cheerful and sweet. So why argue, when this was obviously important to him? Besides, comfy clothes sounded really nice right now. Even my hair hurt.

He bustled over with a sparkly purple tray that screamed, 'Julian gets breakfast in bed.' Marcus chatted up a storm about everything that was going on in his teenage world while I munched away. I was not normally a fan of natural peanut butter, but someone had added salt and mixed it up well and I was touched by the tender gesture. When he paused for breath, I asked, "How are your classes going? And Kendall's? Bring up your homework and let’s get started on it."

"That would be great! I actually get a bit confused sometimes. Julian and Xander help a lot, but it would nice to know some things before the teacher tries to teach it. I say tries because I really want to understand but it takes a second or third explanation before I really get it, you know? It makes me feel stupid sometimes but I know I just missed a lot of school and never did a lot of reading so I need to improve my vocabulary. Kendall says it would help to learn Latin but it's all Greek to me." His joke surprised a laugh out of me and I nearly choked on my milk. Yes, he brought me milk and I was actually drinking it. "Oh my god that nearly came out your nose! I'd always wanted to make someone laugh so hard milk came out their nose, but it's never happened."

"I’ve done it to Xander. You need to time a weird, surprise comment just as he’s swallowing a big gulp. But make it water. Anything carbonated really hurts, and he’d be so upset if he stained anything." It never hurt to give the boy suggestions. I was fully aware that a prank war was slowly escalating in this household.

Marcus' phone blipped and he checked it. "Ooo! Xander and Chance are here! And I'm going shopping with Juuuliaaaaan!" Marcus sang, and ran out of the room too quickly for me to thank him, but I had a feeling he was just giving me a moment to gather myself before I got my dressing-down.

And of course, Chance poked his head in a moment later. “Good! You’re eating. I was pretty sure Marcus said you were eating, but he talks so fast that I sometimes miss things.”

“Just snacking,” I groaned. “Come on, let me have it. I should have confided in you. I should have trusted you guys...”

“It wasn’t exactly a secret,” Chance said. “We all knew, we just never talked about it. Kind of like how I thought Logan was a spy for five years. I wasn’t certain and nobody else said anything, and I didn’t dare accuse you of keeping a secret. But, yeah, I pretty much knew.”

“Thank God Julian knows something about diabetes,” Xander said gruffly as he came into the room with two chairs. He sat down backwards in one of them, his typical tough-guy pose, and Chance sat on the other. Seriously, my two best friends were seated at my bedside like I was a dying invalid in Victorian England. Why Victorian England? I didn’t know, but it seemed like the most appropriate time period. “Julian had a diabetic friend in college who had some issues adjusting to college life and… Julian learned a lot, so he actually knew you needed help that night. Otherwise... No, I don’t want to think about it.”

“Well, Julian was smarter about it than I was. I did exactly the wrong thing. That’s on me. I’ll do better now,” I assured him.

“You’d better,” Chance said, sniffling a bit. “You worried us sick, young man.”

I was exactly twenty-two months older than him, but I didn’t argue the appropriateness of the moniker. In an attempt to change the subject, I asked, “How is everyone else?”

“They’re alright. Logan doesn’t fully trust any food I’ve prepared, so he didn’t get too sick. For some reason, my brother gave Luna some of it even though we told him it was too spicy for the dogs, but she was okay by the next day. My little brothers got hit the worst, other than you,” Chance said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe I almost killed you.”

“Oh, stop that!” I gave him a quick hug. It hadn’t occurred to me that my friend would be this upset, let alone feel any guilt. I should have reached out to him yesterday. “You didn’t do anything, Chance, except attempt to make something more complicated than a sandwich. This is on me. I didn’t take care of myself. By the way, you are not permitted to touch food ever again. Not even when trying to eat food other people prepared. We’re hand-feeding you from this point onward.”

“But it was good, right?” he asked, and we both ignored the moisture in his eyes.

“Yes,” I admitted. That was why everybody had had some. “Just let your fiancé cook the chicken next time, okay? And Xander? How were you guys?”

"We need another bathroom," he grumbled. "Julian tried to make Marcus shit in a bucket and he'll never hear the end of it."

“What?!” I asked at the same time as Chance said, “That wasn’t the version I heard.”

“It gets more dramatic every time one of them retells it,” Xander said with a little smile of affection. “I’m pretty sure Julian was using the bathroom to talk to Tommy privately and Marcus needed in.”

I persevered. "Other than discovering a need to renovate, how are all of you?"

“You’ve seen them. They’ve bounced back fine. I did too, pretty much, but I’m getting old and creaky so it took a little longer.” Xander was a year younger than me, but I couldn’t argue against 31 being a creaky age. Especially given the fact that his husband had developed the alarming habit of screaming ‘baby koala’ and flinging himself at Xander to cling on with all four limbs like, I suppose, a baby koala. “Now about you, Trip.”

“I’m old too, but I’ll bounce back soon enough.” I tried to pretend it didn't matter, that this was just a tiny bump in the road and I really was going to be all better. As if I was just like everyone else.

"And Tommy..." Chance prodded.

"Tommy is amazing. Cool under pressure, knew exactly what to do, and spent a lot of time swearing at me," I told them.

“Did he bitch-slap you?” Xander asked hopefully, and they both flexed their hands as if their palms were itching to do the same. “He called dibs, and we all agreed to grant him exclusive rights to slap some sense you.”

“No, he just gave me a thorough talking-to.” I had trouble imagining Tommy slapping someone. Sure, he got dramatic when he was feeling passionate about something, but… this was clearly a smart ploy to keep me from getting slapped by somebody else. “But I get it. No more secrets allowed.”

“You’re allowed to have secrets, but nothing that can endanger your safety,” Xander said. He lowered his head to his arm and demanded, “Now that everything’s out in the open, tell us all about your relationship with Tommy and what happened with him.”

I opened my mouth to say something vague, but Chance clarified the question so I couldn’t talk around it. “Tell us how things started, what you guys were doing, and what made things end.”

I groaned at Chance’s demand, but told them everything pertinent. How great things were, how and why I ended things, and about our arguments at both Moore weddings. However, I used the vague term ‘complication’ with them as well, still unable to say anything regarding my vision aloud. “Now that he understands my reasoning, Tommy agrees that ending things was the best course of action.”

Xander snorted in disgust and Chance laughed outright.

“It isn’t over, Oh Brilliant One,” Xander said. “He’s probably just hurt, and wants you to take care of yourself before he’s willing to get back together.”

That logic had some serious flaws. This incident wasn’t just due to how well I took care of myself now, it was the result of the quantity and quality of the many times my blood sugar had been out of control. And it wasn’t always my fault. When you use a pump, you assume it will take care of the insulin administration and you get lazy… but that pump can and does break and you don’t even realize it until you start getting sick. Maybe the replacement pump breaks too. Or maybe the insulin is a bad batch or you accidentally use the wrong kind. Illness also causes serious issues. The long and short of it was that I was a mess and it was only going to get worse.

We talked for a while longer before my friends decided their families needed them. My pug shifted a bit when Xander’s boxer Cassius jumped onto the bed with us, snuggling along my side. I talked to both dogs for a few minutes, treating them both to belly rubs, before a sound in the corridor caused me to look up. Xander’s daughter stood holding some flannel and fleece just as Marcus had promised. I appreciated the little doggies on the pants. Her knuckles were white and I worried that she was bracing herself to be alone in a room with a man she barely knew.

“You will never, ever do this to them again,” she said, her voice shaking. With anger, I realized, not fear. “Xander and Julian both blame themselves because they weren’t pushier and also that they called Tommy so late. They’re good people who love you and I won’t let you get away with hurting them again. Be honest with them and take care of yourself. Or else.”

“I won’t,” I told her. “I promise.”

She dropped the clothes on the foot of my bed and turned her back on me, throwing a command over her shoulder. “Go shower then get back into bed. Someone will bring you dinner when it’s ready.”

When she left, Cassius licked my hand and he and my little pug followed her out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I didn’t doubt that the girl had a very unpleasant ‘or else’ planned for me, and I hoped I could live up to my promises.

JOY: Are you behaving yourself? Tommy said you’re all settled in.

TRIP: No. I’m tossing furniture out windows and calling the children names.

JOY: I wouldn’t expect any less.

TRIP: They’re taking very good care of me and now I have comfy clothes and Frankie has company.

JOY: Take this time to reflect and plan. Get your strength back.

TRIP: Nag nag nag

JOY: You better believe it!

TRIP: And you’re still talking with Tommy?

JOY: Of course. He wanted to keep me updated and have a bitching partner. Has he slapped you yet?

TRIP: Why does everyone keep asking that?

JOY: Because you deserve it. So did he?

TRIP: No, ma’am. He’s above that.

JOY: So it would be unfair if I came by to slap you.

TRIP: You know I’m tall enough that you can’t reach me.

JOY: You have to sleep sometime.

TRIP: Everyone seems disappointed that you didn’t slap me.

TOMMY: We all agreed that if anyone slapped you, it would be me.

TRIP: My cheeks thank you.

TOMMY: Maybe I’m just biding my time. Or maybe Frankie is planning on exacting revenge on my behalf.

TRIP: So YOU’re the one to convince him to fart in my face!

TOMMY: Oh no! The jig is up!

TRIP: Jerk!

TOMMY: LOL. ;)