Avery sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around the empty room. He'd successfully stood with the help of a nurse and had even walked a few steps before getting too tired. He told his doctor that he had complete control of his bladder and the feeling in his lower regions had begun to come back so he could tell when he had to go. After much argument back and forth, his doctor finally allowed the nursing staff to remove the catheter.
Avery was never so happy with anything in his entire life. It just felt too weird having a tube stuck up his dick.
He glanced over at the IV machine to his right. That was the next thing that had to go. He couldn't stand being tied down by tubes and wires. He'd figured out on his own how to put the side rail down though he figured he'd catch some flack for that later, but he didn't care. It felt good to sit up without having to ask for help. He felt free.
Avery had never wanted out of a place as badly as he wanted out of that hospital. At one point he'd even considered just walking out on his own. Three obstacles stood in his way of that plan though. The first being Rick. There was no way that Rick was going to just stand by and let him leave. The second obstacle was the fact that he still couldn't walk long distances on his own yet. It wasn't really that he couldn't do it, but more that he was still too weak to hold himself up. His legs worked fine and his resolve was as strong as ever, it was his energy that was depleted.
The third problem he faced was more of an inconvenience than an actual obstacle. He didn't have any clothes. The clothes he'd had on when he was brought in were taken by the police for evidence and as far as Avery was concerned, they could keep them. Even if they gave them back eventually, Avery figured he'd probably just throw them out, or burn them. Currently he was wearing one of the hospital gowns that had been provided for him.
Rick had brought in various things to make Avery more comfortable such as a few paper back books, Avery's journal and a pen. He'd brought in a puzzle book and even a chess set, but what he failed to bring in were clothes. Avery didn't even have a pair of underwear which he found slightly awkward. He was never really one to just let everything hang out and it felt strange to just let his balls slap the insides of his thighs when he was used to having everything packed tightly into a pair of trunks which were basically just boy shorts. Trucks were the only thing that Avery could find that were made for men, and were still kind of sexy.
Leaving the hospital in just one of their flimsy gowns was definitely out of the question. The last thing he wanted was to walk through the hospital with his ass hanging out. That is, if he'd even be able to walk through the hospital to begin with. His luck, he'd make it half way down the corridor and fall on his face with the gown around his head and his ass sticking up for everyone to see. He was sure they'd get a good laugh at that but he was in no mood to be the nights entertainment.
Still, he couldn't just lay around in that bed all day and wait for someone to come and liberate him. Besides that he had an agenda. There was something he was itching to do since he'd woken up which both the nursing staff and his friends had vehemently refused to allow. He wanted to see himself. Avery had not looked in a mirror since waking up in the hospital and though he had a pretty good idea of what he must have looked like, he still wanted to see for himself.
The others were only trying to spare him more pain, he understood that, but what they didn't understand was that he needed to do this. He needed to face himself in the mirror and face the truth of what had happened, what Mikey had done. There was no way that he could explain to Hanson, or anyone else, what had happened that night until he could look himself in the mirror and let the reality of the situation sink in. Till now, it had all seemed like a bad dream. The events of the night were fuzzy, bits and pieces of it came to him and then were gone again just as quickly as they had come.
There was still a lot that he didn't remember, or understand, because for the most part he'd blocked it out. But it was time now to go back. It was time to remember. He had to face the pain, and then he had to own it. He wasn't going to sit there and allow his fear and anger to control him anymore. He couldn't give Mikey that kind of power over him, not now. When he finally faced Mikey, he had to be strong, and he had to be unwavering. He had to show Mikey that there was nothing in this world that he could do to Avery that would ever destroy him, had had to show him that he wasn't some weak and helpless little kid.
Avery was fierce, determined, and he was going to fight back every step of the way. Mikey made one hell of a mistake when he came after Avery because Avery was going to make him pay for what he did. He was going to walk into that court room with his head held high and he would tell the judge, the jury, whoever; he would tell them everything and he would make sure that the next time Mikey walked the streets as a free man, he would be too old and feeble to hurt anyone else.
Avery took a deep breath then pushed himself up from the bed. He was still a bit unsteady and he felt a twinge of pain rush through his chest and down his back. His ribs hurt terribly. Just moving made them ache, even breathing was difficult at times. He felt like a newborn kitten struggling to stand up for the first time. His legs wobbled and his hands were shaking but still he grasped the IV stand and pulled it over to him, leaning on it some for support. The wheels of the stand glided gracefully across the floor. For that, he was grateful. H didn't really think that he would have been able to carry it on his own, not in the condition that he was in.
The floor was cold against his bare feet. It sent a little chill through his body but it wasn't bad enough to make him turn around and go back to bed. He carefully moved from the bed to the sink which was just a few feet away, bracing himself against the counter to keep from falling over. Once he'd reached the sink he stood there a few moments looking down into the white porcelain fixture, his heart pounding in his chest as he gathered the courage he needed to look up. Once he had calmed his nerves a bit he slowly raised his head and looked into the mirror before him.
He allowed a moment for his eyes to focus before he took in the whole of what he was seeing. The person looking back at him seemed a stranger to him. The black circles under his eyes, the red and swollen tissue around them, and the bruises along his cheeks and mouth formed a terrifying visage that he found hard to believe was the same man that once stood up on a stage and sang like an angel, inspiring desire and excitement in others. In his eyes, he was hideous now.
His hair was a choppy mess of different lengths that stood up all over his head. It might not have look quite so bad if it wasn't caked with dried blood. Still, the loss of his long and silky black hair was quite a shock to him. Ever since his mother had mentioned the short hair he'd been determined to see exactly what she was talking about. It didn't make him look masculine and he didn't look nice. He looked like a deranged mental patient. There was a cut over his lip and another above his right eye that he prayed to God wouldn't leave a scar. He couldn't stand the thought that his face might be marred forever.
He wasn't really so concerned about his looks, but besides his voice, his looks were all he had. How could he ever take the stage again looking like Frankenstein's monster? It was all too much for him to deal with. At this point he was wondering how Rick even managed to keep coming back, why he hadn't left him by now. Avery wasn't Avery anymore, he wasn't the man that Rick had fallen in love with, he was some bruised and broken creature that was too disgusted even to look at his own face in the mirror. If he'd been home, he would have broken every mirror in the apartment and hidden himself away in his room like the Hunchback of Notre dame.
He could see his entire future just crumbling away into nothingness. "Damn you Michael!" He hissed through clenched teeth. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Avery lowered his head, not bearing to look at his face anymore, and started to sob softly. He ran a hand through his hair, grasping a chunk of it and holding it tight in his fist.
"You didn't do anything to deserve this." Rick had walked into the room and came up behind Avery. He gently touched his shoulder then leaned forward and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm hideous." Avery sobbed.
"The bruises will heal in time Ave, and your hair will grow back."
"But in the mean time, how can you even stand to look at me? I'm a monster!"
Rick frowned. "Turn around and look at me Avery."
"No."
