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“I said…get out. Of. My. Face. ” Ben bites each word, fists clenched, chest swelling, eyes going manic.

I shrug my arm out of the sling. Ignore the pain. “Walk away, Ben. ” I swallow my pride and try it nicely. “Please. Just go. ”

“Or what? ” He smirks at me. “Gonna sucker-punch me again? ”

I growl. “You started that, Ben. Just like you’re starting this. ”

“And I’m finishing it. ” He shoves me. “Fuck. Off. Get out of here. You don’t belong here. ”

I stumble backward, and habit takes over. Instinct. Fight reflexes kick in. I rocket forward, swinging my good fist. I connect, hard. Ben’s head rocks back, and I hear Kylie screaming, pleading for us to stop. It’s too late, though. Ben is coming for me. I dodge out of the way, and his fist misses. I pivot, step away, and he follows, swinging again. His face is a rictus of rage, and his fist is huge, coming hard and fast, and it hits me square in the nose, knocks me backward. Pain explodes in my face, blood splatters, and he’s still coming, and Kylie is stumbling for me, crying, pleading. I see the terror in her eyes, and I step backward, hold up my hands.

“Ben, hold on—” I don’t want to fight him, don’t want this pain in her eyes.

But it’s too late. Too late. I see him coming, and I try to move, try to block, but I can’t. He’s too fast, and I’m off-balance. My foot hits the curb, and I stumble backward, out into the street. Headlights bathe me in yellow, a horn blares in my ear. I’m on one foot, on the ball of my foot, spinning, windmilling for balance, but I know this is happening. I see the grille, a Land Rover. I see the emblem, the green and silver, and then I feel my leg shatter, feel the hood sliding under my side and my back, and then my skull impacts the glass of the windshield, and I only have a split second to feel the all-consuming pain, and then darkness rises up within me like a flood. I hear screaming, voices. I’m almost under, fighting to stay above the black cold waters of silence, and I see Kylie, her face above me, tears streaming, her lips move.

Ben is behind her, and why is he crying? He’s not hurt, but he’s bawling, shaking his head, backing away. I blink, blink, but the darkness won’t clear from my eyes, and I focus again on Kylie.

I love you. I love you. Am I saying it? I don’t even know. I’m trying. Are the words coming out? Does she know? Can she hear?

Darkness. Cold. Weightlessness. Is that a light coming for me? Is that what they mean when they talk about the light at the end of the tunnel? I don’t want it. Stay away from the light.

I cling to the image of Kylie’s face. Picture her pale skin lit silver by the moonlight, her eyes the blue of the Caribbean, her lips moving as she tells me she loves me, the impossible beauty of her face and the impossible beauty of the fact that she loves me.

I struggle to hold on to her, onto the warmth, onto reality, onto life.

“Don’t go…please, Oz…stay with me…stay with me…” Her voice is broken, so sweet, and I want to reassure her.

“…love…you…” I think that’s my voice, but is it really out loud? Is that tattered shred of sound my voice?

I can’t fight the blackness anymore. Cold implacable hands drag me under.

“No! ” Kylie, pleading. “NO! ”

I’m falling under.

Silence.

TWELVE: Fallout

Colt

Oh, fuck no. I watched it happen, and I watch his chest struggle up and down, and Kylie is screaming and Nell is pulling at her and I’m silent. I see Jason and Becca, our neighbors. The driver of the Land Rover, puking into the grass. Ben, sobbing like a baby, I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean to, I’m sorry tumbling from his mouth. Jason is holding him by the shoulders. Becca is on the phone with 911. They said not to move him, help is on the way.

I kneel beside Kylie, watching Oz as his breathing goes shallow and reedy, and I watch the blood seeping from beneath his skull.

Without warning, Kylie is lunging across the street, screaming viciously now, not in pain but in hate, in rage. I catch her just before she reaches Ben, catch her swinging arms, clenched trembling fists before they hit him.

“YOU KILLED HIM! ” she’s shrieking, “You fucking killed him, you bastard! I hate you IhateyouIhateyou! ”

Ben lurches to his feet, throwing his father off. “I didn’t mean to…” He stumbles toward her, eyes red, grief and guilt ravaging his features. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I told you months ago I’d chosen him, but you couldn’t accept it! ” She’s struggling in my arms, but I can’t let go, won’t let go. “I chose him! I love him! You were my best friend, Ben. ” She’s abruptly limp. “You were my best friend. How could you do this to me? How could do it to me? ” And now she’s limp.

I lift her in my arms. “He’s not dead, baby. He’s not dead. He’ll be okay. He’s just unconscious. Stay with me, sweetheart. ” I’m murmuring in her ear. “Stay with me, baby. Look at Oz, okay? See his chest moving? He’s alive, okay? There’s the ambulance—they’ll fix him. They’ll fix him. ”

She struggles out of my arms, to her feet, watching everything with sudden manic energy, pacing, as the EMS guys do their grisly work, blue-gloved hands turning red, their voices calm but urgent.

“Will he—will he live? ” she asks, her voice cutting through the noise.

One of them looks at her. His eyes are reassuring, calm. “We got here in time, I think. He’s got a good chance. ”

A good chance. It’s not much, but it’s something. Better than dead.

Kylie follows them as they lift him inside the ambulance, and no one dares stop her as she climbs in and sits to one side, trying to touch his hand while staying out of their way. The doors close and the sirens go on and the ambulance wails away. Nell has the truck running, and we’re following close behind.

The next several hours pass in a sludge-slow blur. He’s in surgery for nine hours, and Kylie eventually falls into a fitful sleep in the waiting room, stretched across two chairs with her head on Nell’s lap. We sit in silence, watching the news on mute, Brian Williams’ face moving without sound, images flashing, meaningless nonsense that doesn’t penetrate anyone’s awareness.

Kate Hyde is in the room as well, sitting across from us, eyes red-rimmed, a Kleenex clutched in her fist. She stares listlessly.

Sometime in the small hours of dawn, a green-gowned surgeon approaches, a face-mask tugged down past his chin, a green cap on his head, rubbing hand-sanitizer on his hands. He glances around the room, pale, pale blue eyes searching. He’s a middle-aged man, a little older than I am, I think, thick-shouldered and fit.

Kylie senses something, wakes up, sees the surgeon. Lurches to her feet. “Is he okay? ”

“He’s a fighter, ” the surgeon says. “He suffered an extreme trauma to his head, but he stayed with us. ”

“Will he—will he be okay? ” Kate asks. “When he wakes up? ”

The surgeon bobbles his head from side to side. “There’s never any way to tell one hundred percent until he wakes up. I think he has an excellent chance of making a full recovery with no lasting side effects, but I can’t make any promises just yet. We’ve done everything we can do for now. ” He sighs. “He’ll have a long road ahead of him when he wakes up. The head trauma was the biggest worry, but he has other equally significant injuries. He broke his femur in three places, and re-fractured his arm. Those will take time to heal, of course, but it’s the head injury that we have to keep the closest eye on right now. ”

“When can we see him? ” Kylie wants to know.

“He’s unconscious at the moment. It’s not a coma, though, just natural post-op sleep. You can probably see him in a few hours. Sometime later today, I’d say. Ya’ll have been here for a long time, so why don’t you head home and catch some sleep? ”

Kylie shook her head. “No…no. I need to see him. Can’t I just—just see him? ”

The surgeon shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I really feel it’s in his best interests to remain undisturbed for the time being. ” His expression softens. “You won’t do him any good if you’re in a state of exhaustion. You need to rest. I can tell you from experience, the sleep you get in a waiting room in a hospital is no kind of rest at all. Go home. Sleep. Come back this evening, and you’ll be able to see him, hopefully speak to him. ”

I wrap my arm around Kylie’s shoulders. “Come on, Ky. He’s right. We’re all exhausted. We know he’s okay now. He’ll be okay. Let’s get you home? Just for a few hours. ”

Kylie nods, and then slips out of my hold, reaches for Kate. “He’s all right, Kate. He’ll be fine. ” Kylie and Kate embrace, and I can see Kate visibly shuddering and trying to hold it together.

“He really loves you, you know. I wasn’t sure he’d ever find that. ” Kate pulls away, holds Kylie by the shoulders. “I’m so glad he did. You’ve really brought him to life, Kylie, and I can’t ever thank you enough for that. ”

“He’s amazing, ” Kylie says.

“Yeah, he is. No thanks to me. ” Kate squeezes her eyes shut and turns away.

“Hey, hey. ” Kylie shakes Kate’s arm. “No. You’ve always been there for him. You gave him…so much. Everything. And he knows it. He’s told me as much. ”

“He—he did? ”

Kylie nods. “He loves you, Kate. For real. Don’t ever doubt that. ”

Kate smiles. “Thanks, Kylie. ” She shakes her head, wipes her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just so emotional. Go home, get some rest. We’ll all come back later and see him. ” She gives Kylie one last hug, and then she’s gone.

As Kate shuffles down the hallway toward the elevators, Jason and Becca return from the cafeteria, Styrofoam cups of coffee in hand, Ben trailing behind them, looking subdued and miserable. Becca halts in the doorway, staring after Kate.

“Who—who was that? ” Becca asks. It wasn’t quite a stutter, more of a stumble, but it spoke volumes about how unnerved Becca is. She turns to Kylie. “Who was that? ”

“That? ” Kylie is visibly confused. “That was Oz’s mom. Why? ”

Becca doesn’t answer right away. “Nothing. She just…she looked familiar. Must have been my imagination. ” She shakes her head, dismissing the thought. “I just thought for a second—oh, never mind. How is Oz? ”

“Oz is out of surgery. He’s asleep now, but they said he should be fine. ” Kylie hiccups, and her effort to sound strong crumbles. “He broke his leg and re-broke his arm. And his head—he…they say he shouldn’t have any—any lasting damage. But they won’t know till he wakes up. ”

Becca gathers Kylie to her. “He’ll be okay, honey. You’ll see. ”

Kylie nods, and pulls away. “Yeah, I know. He’s tough. ”

We all head home, and Kylie is asleep on her feet by the time we get inside. I follow her upstairs, tuck her in to her bed the way I used to, when she was a little girl.

“Daddy? ” Her voice is tiny, sleep-slow.

“Yeah, babe. ”

“I’m so mad at Ben. I’m so mad it scares me. ” She sniffles. “Don’t let him—if he comes here looking for me, don’t let him in. I can’t see him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. ”

I sigh. “Oh, honey. It was an accident. A stupid accident that should never have happened. It wasn’t his fault, honey. He didn’t mean for it to happen. ”

“He was picking a fight! ” Kylie is furious, but too tired to really express it. “Oz had a broken arm, and he was trying to be rational about it. But Ben was just…just spoiling for a fight. I told him I was with Oz. I told him, Daddy. Months ago. But he couldn’t accept it. ”

“He’s been your friend your whole life, Kylie. Try to see it from his point of view, just for a second. He’s been in love with you for a long, long time. Then, suddenly, you’re with someone else, and he’s frustrated. ”

“He never told me. Never let on. How was I supposed to know? ” She rolls to her back and lets her eyes close. “If he’d told me, before I met Oz…maybe there could’ve been something. But…he just got so crazy, so jealous. It’s so unlike him, too. He said such horrible things to Oz, Daddy. It wasn’t my Ben saying it. It was like…like he was somebody else. It was so scary. ”

“I’m not excusing his behavior, Kylie. I’m not. I’m just saying…give him time. ”

“I’ll try. ”

“That’s all I’m saying. ” I pat her shoulder. “Sleep. We’ll go back there together later. ”

She didn’t answer, because she was already asleep.

THIRTEEN: Revelations

Waking up fucking sucks. Especially that initial stage, where you’re just starting to become aware that you’re waking up, and you don’t want to. You want to sink back down. You want to stay under.

But you can’t. You’re dragged upward, fumbling toward the inevitability of waking.

Waking up in agony? Even worse.

Slowly, torturously, I come to awareness. I’ve felt pain before. I’ve endured all sorts of horrible shit. But this? It’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. A thousand, thousand points of pain, little stabbing sparks of agony all throughout my body, centered on my head and my leg and my arm, spreading out like a spider web.

I hear a monitor beeping. I’m in a goddamn hospital again. Fuck.

I didn’t die. I distinctly remember realizing I was dying. But apparently not.

I blink, find the ceiling above me, the walls, the monitors with their wires all leading to me. A cannula in my nose. I feel heavy. My leg is wrapped in a cast from waist to toe. My arm is in a hard cast again. And my head, fuck, my head aches like someone is pounding on it with a sledgehammer.

My door opens and Kylie’s barging in, rushing for me, and her expression is shell-shocked, haunted. “Oz. ” She says it strangely. “Hi, baby. ”

I feel lost. Something is going on. She’s acting weird. “Hi, sweetness. ” I hold out my one good hand for her. “Come here. ”

She sits on the edge of my bed. Touches her forehead to mine. “You’re awake. You’re—you’re alive. ” She hiccups, sobs. “I—I thought you were dead. You—you were barely breathing. I thought I’d lost you. Again. ”

“I’m okay, Ky. I mean, I’m all kinds of fucked up, but I’ll be okay. ” She nods, but doesn’t say anything. “What is it, Kylie? Something’s wrong. ”

“The front desk…they wouldn’t tell me your room number. ”

“What? Why? ”

“Be—because I didn’t know your real name. ”

“Oh. Shit. ”

She sniffles, makes an odd sound that I can’t decipher. “Yeah. I asked for you. For Oz. I just wanted to see my boyfriend. I was a little crazy, and they just wouldn’t—they wouldn’t tell me where you were. ‘His name is Oz Hyde, ’ I said. You want to know what they said? What they told me? ”

“What? ” I almost don’t want to know. It’s just a name. I don’t see why it matters, but she’s acting so strange.

“They told me your name. Your whole, real name. ” A pause, a deep breath. “Benjamin Aziz Hyde. ” She pronounces it slowly, each syllable succinct and clear.

“Yeah. So? ”

My door opens then, and Ben comes in. As he approaches me, hands in his pockets, his eyes …they’re…god, I’ve never seen such torture in a person’s eyes before.

“Ben. What—what the fuck are you doing here? ” I demand.

He just stares at me for a moment, and then he squeezes his eyes shut as if to hold back strong emotions. “I’m sorry…Oz. I’m so sorry. I should…I should never have…acted the way I did. ”

I blink. He’s the last person I ever expected to see walk through that door, and I certainly never expected an apology from him. “I’m not sure what you want to me say here, man. ”

“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything. I was…I was way out of line, and I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say. ” He draws a deep breath, and lets it out. Looks at Kylie.

“I think Kylie’s the one you should be apologizing to, not me. ” The pain on his face makes it impossible to hate him. “It was an accident, Ben. A fight’s a fight, but getting hit by a car like I did, it could’ve been either of us. ”

He just nods, and it seems like he wants to say something else, but can’t get it out.

An awkward silence ensues.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I look at Kylie. “What is so important about my name? ”

“Your name is Benjamin. So’s his. ”

I shake my head. “So? It’s a fairly common name. It’s just a coincidence. ”

She leans forward. “But you two—you almost look alike. I mean, both of you have almost the same color of skin, like, exactly the same shade. Your noses, they’re almost identical, too. And your eyes…Oz, yours have more gray in them, but your eyes are almost the same, too. It’s eerie. I’ve noticed it before, but…having the same first name? It’s too weird to be a coincidence. ”

“So what? We’re…like, long-lost brothers or something? ”

Kylie shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s just bizarre. ”

Ben paces away, across the room. “No way we’re fucking brothers. There’s no fucking way in hell my parents would keep a secret like that from me. And besides that, I know for a fact my parents have never been with anyone but each other. It’s impossible. It is weird, though. ” He growls and heads toward the door. “I need some air. ”

He leaves, and Kylie fits her feet onto the bed, lies beside me, and nuzzles into me. “It’s crazy, but it doesn’t even matter. ” She carefully rests her hand on my chest, avoiding my injured arm and leg. “I love you. You’re alive. That’s all I care about right now. ”

“I love you, too. ” I twist my head to kiss her temple, and she turns her face to meet my lips. It’s a quick, shallow kiss. I break it first. “But for real…what the hell is going on? I don’t—I don’t get it. ”

Kylie sighs. “I talked to your mom. She’s on the way, too. ” She kisses my jaw.

I lift my good arm so she can rest her head in the nook. We let silence wash over us, except for the beeping of the monitors and the occasional squawk of the PA. I almost fall back asleep, but then I hear footsteps approaching, and my door opens. Mom comes in, followed by Ben. Kylie doesn’t move from my side, but I know she’s awake and watching, waiting.

Mom leans over me and kisses my forehead. I don’t remember the last time Mom kissed me. “Oz, baby. I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel? ”

“Hurt. Confused. Fucked up. ” I glance at Ben, then back at Mom. “Where did you get my name? ” I demand.

She pales. “What? Why are you asking now? ” She backs away, shaking her head. “I’m not—we’re not discussing that now. We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better. ”

“We’ll talk about it right the FUCK now! ” I shout. Kylie flinches, but doesn’t otherwise move or speak.

“Hold up, Oz. Wait till my folks are here, ” Ben says.

Mom is staring at Ben as if she’s seeing a ghost. “Who—who are you? ”

“Ben Dorsey. ” He shakes her hand, his expression impassive. It’s as if he’s shoved all emotions down, deep into a locked closet of his soul.

“Ben Dorsey, ” Mom repeats. “You look—you look like—”

She doesn’t finish, though, because the door opens one more time, and Jason comes through, Becca right behind her. Jason steps aside, and Becca moves forward, past him, toward me. She sees Mom standing at the side of my bed, on the opposite side of Kylie.

“No…” Becca breathes. “It’s not…it’s not possible. ” She stumbles, pale, hand over her mouth. “Kate? ” She leans into Jason, staring at Mom in shock and old pain.

Mom sags backward against the wall, clutches the railing of my bed as if she’s about to faint. “Becca. My god. ”

I look from Mom to Becca. “Wait…you know each other? ” My fists clench. “What the hell is going on? Somebody start giving me some goddamn answers. ”

Kylie puts her hand to my cheek. “Oz…baby, it’s okay. We’re all here. We’ll talk it through. I’m here. It’s okay. ”

I take a deep breath. “Mom. How do you know Becca Dorsey? ”

Mom closes her eyes, steps away from the bed, stumbles a few feet, and then collapses to her knees. Her shoulders shake, and I hate that I can’t get out of this bed to help her. “Oz. Baby…I know you’ve got a lot of questions. ”

“A lot of questions? ” I say this with so much bitterness my voice breaks. “I’ve gone my whole life with nothing but fucking questions, Mom. ”

Becca steps forward. Touches Mom’s shoulder, sinks to her knees beside her. “Kate. I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve spent so many years wondering what happened to you. You just disappeared, and I—I was never able to find you. ” She sounds almost angry, and a lot sad, and lost in the past. “I looked. For years, I looked. ”

“You did? ” Mom’s voice is disbelieving.

“Of course I did! ” Becca shuts her eyes, breathing shakily. “I told you, I t-told you we’d be there for you. We’d help you. But you just…vanished. ”

“It was too hard. I was scared. ” Mom’s voice is distant, small. “I couldn’t handle it, being so close to—to everything that reminded me of him. ”

Him? I wanted to ask who, but I knew. I stayed silent and let it all come out.

“You think—you think it wasn’t hard for me? He was my brother, Kate. You were…you were c-c-carrying…his-his child. ” Becca’s eyes turn to me. “My nephew. ”

The world spins around me. “What? ” I try for breath. “What’s going on? ”

Mom seems stuck, sitting on the hospital room floor, head hanging. Becca glances at her, sucks in a deep breath, and I can see her visibly counting, calming herself. She stands up, moves to my side.

“Your father was … my brother. His name was Benjamin Aziz de Rosa. ” Her voice wavers. “I named my son after him, and so did Kate, it seems. ”

I can’t breathe, but a million whirling skirling questions batter at my brain, flutter just this side of my lips. One slips out. “What…what happened to him? Where is he? ”

“Your mom never told you anything about him? ” Becca asks.

I can only shake my head.

“I couldn’t! ” Mom shouts, hysterical, manic, suddenly sobbing. “It was too—too hard! He—he—oh god…I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, Oz. I just couldn’t. It was too hard. It’s still too hard. ”

Becca blinks hard twice, breathing deep. “My brother was very troubled, Oz. He struggled with bipolar disorder his whole life. He got into drugs. When he met Kate, your mother…he seemed to get a little better. But it—it wasn’t enough, I guess. He wouldn’t take his meds…b-b-be—bec—because…” She trails off, struggling. She pauses for a moment, breathing deeply. “God, I haven’t stuttered like this in years. He wouldn’t take his meds. He said they made him feel…empty. Half-dead. Like he was in a cloud. Not himself. He hated them. The drugs just made it all worse, I think. Your mother loved him, and he loved her. But…it wasn’t enough. He had…so much darkness in him. So much self-doubt. ”

She pauses again, and clearly, this next part is hellishly difficult to say. I don’t dare interrupt. Mom has her face in her hands, sobbing quietly.

Becca continues. “It was all too much. My brother committed suicide. It was April ninth. He hung himself. I found him. ” She stops then, and I see the tears in her eyes. She starts again. “Your mother had just found out she was pregnant. ”

I don’t even know what to say. “So…he couldn’t handle the fact that he was going to be a father? So he just…offed himself? ”

Becca flinches at my coarse words. “I don’t know. There’s no way to really know what he was thinking. ”

“He—he was scared. He thought he’d ruined my life. His life. ” Mom, for the first time in my life, was offering answers. “That’s what he thought. He was scared he’d pass his sickness on to you. That’s how he saw it, his bipolarism. A sickness. A disease. I just…I just thought he was different. Just Ben. But he—he suffered a lot, so much, just to try to function. And when I told him I was pregnant, he just couldn’t handle it. He felt guilty. He thought—I think because he struggled so hard just to take care of himself, he’d only fuck up a kid that much worse, but he couldn’t run away from me. I think—I think he didn’t feel like he had any other way out. ”

I look at Ben. “So Ben’s my cousin. ” It’s a rhetorical question, and no one answers. I look at Mom. “Why, Mom? Why did you never say anything? Why did you keep this secret from me for my whole fucking life? Why? All I wanted was to know…even his goddamn name! One single thing about him. ”

Mom sucks in a shuddering breath. “It hurt too much. I loved your father. I loved Ben. So much. I wanted…I just wanted him to be happy. I didn’t care if he was bipolar. I’d take him any way I could get him. As long as he wasn’t doing drugs, he was okay. To me, at least. He’d have his ups and downs, and they were rough, yeah, but it was manageable. And then he—he killed himself. It—it broke me. I’ve never been okay. I haven’t been okay since…since he died. I just couldn’t handle it. You’re so much like him, Oz. So much. It scares me, and reminds me, and it’s—so hard sometimes. ” She looks up at me, eyes wet, tears flowing freely down her face. “I’m sorry, Oz. I’m so sorry. You deserved the truth, but I just couldn’t—couldn’t face it. When you were young and asking about him, how do you tell a six-year-old that his father hung himself? And then the older you got, the more it was just easier to pretend like I was protecting you from the awfulness of the truth. It was easier to let you think he’d run off, or abandoned us. Because the truth that he killed himself rather than even try…to me, was so much worse. More than twenty years have passed since Ben killed himself, and I’m still—still so mad at him. And I miss him. I loved him, Oz. I loved him so much. And I would have done anything for him. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. ”

I’m near tears. Again. I’m sick to fucking death of all this bullshit drama making me emotional. But it all makes sense. It answers so much. “So…am I like him? Am I bipolar? ” I’ve heard of bipolar disorder, of course, but I don’t really know much about it.

Mom shakes her head. “No, honey. I’ve watched you like a hawk for your whole life, and you’ve never showed any signs of it. I’ve made a god-awful mess of your life, so if you have any—any emotional issues, they’re my fault. But I don’t think you’re bipolar. ”