"And the city sickness, growing inside me."

[zedblaze]

Who: Zed Blaze and Karla Jameson
What: Desperately needing help
Where: Dr Karla Jameson's clinic, White Plains
When: Day after THIS

It probably should have been before this that Zed got himself to a doctor, but there had been delusion mixed with fear. He wanted to bury his head in the sand and pretend none of it was happening. Now, he was sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's clinic, which was kind of on the busy side. He had slumped right down in his seat, holding his phone up in front of his face so he didn't need to make eye contract with anyone. He was pretty sure the woman in the corner with twin little girls in blonde pigtails who had the sniffles thought he was a Satan worshipper or something. Maybe that would've been easier for him to process than this.

He was still feeling sick, but it was probably more factored to anxiety. He had the letter from the doctor at the hospital in Vegas shoved deep down in the pocket of his leather jacket. He had been directed to get off the plane in New York and go straight to a hospital there. Instead, he had gone to Caleb's. Right now, he couldn't explain many of his actions. It was like he was on auto-pilot and someone else was in control. There was forever that fear of death, though, so here he was.

At least Karla was a family friend. His foster mother was one of her closest friends, they had known each other for many years. Karla had become like an aunt to Zed on some level, though inevitably he was as reserved and quiet with her as he was with anyone else. He was oblivious to the fact his foster mom talked a lot about him to Karla, concerned about his state of mind and worrying if he was depressed. Moms did that sort of thing. At least, the ones who still cared about the welfare of their kids. He sat there, his leg bouncing anxiously while he waited to be called. Fuck, he was hoping she would just tell him there was nothing to worry about.

Comments

[livingforlife]

At the most, Karla usually took maybe an appointment or two on Sundays, usually if a patient was really sick and couldn't wait. She was a the sort of doctor who was close to her patients and built rapport with them to the point of knowing them well enough to know when they needed to be seen sooner rather than later. So even when she opened on Sundays, it was very rare that she saw this many patients. Unfortunately, there was a bug going around, and it seemed to have hit White Plains pretty hard. And then there had been the call from Zed. He was like family to her, even though he still had a hard time opening up to her or anyone else. Karla knew he'd become a foster kid because of a bad home life before, but he'd never really talked about it, and Karla understood that, too. Traumatic things weren't exactly normal conversation that you couldn't wait to have with all and sundry, and she'd never pushed. Zed's foster mother had come to her more times than she could count, worried and concerned about the boy and how he was dealing with things. Karla would've felt much the same, and Zed obviously carried a lot on his shoulders that he wasn't opening up about.

Karla never required her nurses to come in on their days off, so she generally did the check-in and vitals herself, so it was she who went into the waiting room and called Zed back. He was nervous or upset about something, though she couldn't be sure what. She took him back to an exam room and quickly took his vitals before asking him, "What's going on, Zed? Your mom didn't mention you being sick." He looked more than sick. He looked tired... exhausted really. Pale. And there was anxiety in his mannerisms. "You don't look like you feel well, that's for sure."

[zedblaze]

How did you even start a conversation like this? Zed had considered going to a hospital where there were piles of strangers to blend in with, and cases like his were probably a dime a dozen, but he wasn't sure he could face that. He didn't want to be told a pile of statistics or be frowned upon for bad or stupid choices. This was hard, and sensitive. He found himself wanting to run back to some familiarity - Caleb and Karla. Some psych would probably have a field day psycho-analysing his actions and choices, but that was the least of his worries right now. "No... she doesn't know. I don't want her to know either." At least not yet. Maybe ever. If it was nothing, why worry his family? Why make them feel like they failed him or - worse - risk having them tell him he was a disappointment and useless like his father had?

His hand was hurting where he cut it, and he had hardly eaten since all this happened. In the end, he just took the letter from the doctor out of his pocket and handed it over to Karla. He hadn't read it, but it was basically a simple order for Post-Exposure Prophylaxis treatment as a matter of urgency because his Rapid HIV Test showed a 'reactive test result'. Whatever that meant. It had been explained that it was indicative that he may have contracted the infection, but the three-month standard laboratory test was highly recommended, as was PEP immediately. Once the letter was passed off, he looked down at his lap, sitting low down in the chair and couldn't even meet her eye.

[livingforlife]

Karla took the letter from Zed and scanned it quickly, and it took every ounce of medical training she'd had in her entire life not to freak the fuck out right now. Zed was like family. His parents and siblings had been a part of Karla's life for years, ever since Richie was a little guy, and it was a complete shock to the system to read that he had shown signs of being infected with HIV. She felt like crying, because this wasn't just a patient. This was the son of a friend, and one she loved dearly, no matter how quiet and reserved he may be. She ached for him, and she couldn't imagine the fear he was going through. She just wanted to hug him right now, but she had to be the doctor instead. "How long as it been since you were exposed?" she asked softly. "And how did it happen? I know you probably aren't in the mood to talk or share,but I need to know these things, Zed."

The bandaging around his hand told her there was a lot more to the story, and she had no idea where to start other than getting him treated as quickly as she possibly could. If it had been more than 72 hours since exposure, it was probably too late already, but no matter what, she damn well had to try. "We'll get you onto PEP as quickly as we can, and line you up for the three month test, too. We're going to figure it all out, but right now, PEP is the most important thing." She paused. "And I also want to know what happened to your hand."

[zedblaze]

"Went to Vegas and got drunk. Been about... two... three days. Had unprotected sex when I was drunk..." Zed began to explain, but was pretty sure that wasn't going to cut it. It wasn't a lie or any sort of fabrication. That was what happened, but it was a mere tiny drop of information in a very large ocean. He was still looking down at his lap when he said it, and the words came out in a mumble. Though, when he looked up and saw Karla had been waiting to meet his gaze, he knew for sure the pissweak information he was feeding her wouldn't cut it. She was a mom, and a damn good one. But that was also what was holding him back. "Any of this shit, it's completely confidential, right? Like, absolutely confidential, you can't tell anyone about what I say?" He was thinking about his foster mom. He knew they were really good friends, and he knew they talked about their kids together. This, he didn't want his family know about. None of it.

Somewhere through all this, he was locked into delusional. And when he wasn't there, he just felt too tired to tired to even think it all through. He had fully taken on the fact this was his fault because he was stupid, but at the same time, it happened because he wasn't coping with a whole pile of other stuff. He had lulled himself into a false sense of security that the Witness Protection was working, and he would be safe from anyone discovering who he really was. Or anyone from his past coming back like this. It had thrown him completely, and how he had no choice but to face the downfall of it all. With the confirmation that anything he said was completely confidential, he finally started to open up. "My name's not really Zed. I mean, it is now legally, but I haven't always always been Zed. My birth name was Zoran Duval. And someone from my past just recently showed up."

[livingforlife]

"Is it two or three," she asked calmly. "Because that makes a difference. After seventy two hours, they usually won't even give you PEP, because it's not generally beneficial after that. I assume the guy you slept with was Positive?" she continued. Zed was pretty openly gay, and it was common knowledge. She could only have assumed he slept with a guy. But she did know he was holding back a lot here, and she needed to know anything and everything that might somehow make a difference here in what was going on with him. Any detail may be useful, though she knew it couldn't be easy to tell your mom's best friend who was like an aunt to you about the unprotected sex you'd had in Vegas. "Anything you tell me in here, you tell me as your doctor, Zed. Not as your mom's friend. I am here to give you medical care right now. Not to report anything back to your mom or anyone else."

Karla hadn't quite expected that, but she tried not to let her surprise show. Ultimately, Zed was opening up to her because he clearly needed to be able to talk to someone... probably more than he realized if he was going out and having unprotected sex. She couldn't vouch for his life before he'd come to live with Heather and Joe, but she knew that they were both very open parents and had talked to Zed and the twins about protection. But then, when you weren't in the best place mentally, you often didn't make the best decisions. Karla knew that as well as anyone did. "Someone from your past? Is this someone who's part of the reason you ended up in foster care in the first place?" she asked gently. She didn't want to push him to talk if he didn't want to, but she also didn't want him to feel that she didn't care about this part of things, and was only trying to get to the clinical facts. He needed to talk, and there was so much more to this story than unprotected sex in Vegas.

[zedblaze]

The more Karla continued, the more awkward Zed began to feel. Or less awkward, more ashamed. While she was talked, he had put a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, but soon his hand stilled there and he turned his head away, biting his lip. "I dunno... Seventy-two hours since I did it, or seventy-two since I saw a doctor?" He wasn't intending to sound surly, though the mumbled words made him sound that way. He was listening despite not being able to look her in the eye right now. His head had basically come to rest against his shoulder because he was subconsciously attempting to fold more in on himself. He would be a body language analyser's wet dream right now. "It was a woman. Prostitute." Those words were barely audible. Saying them out loud made him feel even more stupid. He didn't think he would have actively sought out a female prostitute, but he was too drunk and trashed to remember how it all went down. The only way he knew was that she got him to a hospital so he didn't drop dead before he paid her for the fuck. He hadn't had a whole lot of cash on him, only cards. She knew this because she searched his wallet. The ER doctor got pissed off once he knew she was a hooker and told her he would call the cops if she didn't leave. For obvious reasons, she hadn't been there long enough to reveal if she was Positive, which is why they performed the rapid HIV test on him.

He shook his head at that. "No. That's a whole other shit pile altogether. It's not..." He stopped, because he didn't know if he should actually keep going with the confession here or not. But he had to tell her he fucked a straight hooker when he was trashed in Vegas, so why not go for the whole nine yards? His head was pounding and he just felt plain sick. Before he continued, he closed his eyes and rubbed them roughly with his fingertips. Wow, her other patients were going to be pissed as fuck that he took it upon himself to suck up all her time ever. He didn't mean to be a pain in the ass, he just didn't know what to do. He was scared and lost, and feeling very alone. "Not foster care. Witness Protection. It's why there was no talk of adoption, because I'm not a ward of the state. I didn't exist before."

[livingforlife]

"Since the exposure," she said softly, recognizing that he was very pointedly not looking at her right now. She could understand why. There was a great deal of shame associated with STDs, specifically HIV, even if it wasn't nearly what it used to be as far as the stigma of it. And then he told her that it had been a woman, and she was caught a bit off guard by that, too. The likelihood of a man getting HIV from vaginal sex with a woman was pretty low unless there were other risk factors, such as open wounds in the genital area, but ultimately, it could happen. Low risk didn't mean no risk, and Karla was well aware of that. It was one of those things that you just had to know as a doctor. She didn't say anything right away, but the mom part of her wanted to rip him a new asshole for going out and fucking a prostitute, male, female, or other. The risks were too great, and even if not HIV, there was still the possibility of herpes or some other nasty infection. No matter what, this could go badly for him. If the test had shown up with the early markers, though, it was clear that he had come in contact, which pissed her off. Nevada had legal prostitution, and the hookers in question were supposed to have clean bills of health and very strict infection control, but clearly this hadn't been in a clean bill of health establishment.

Karla listened to him quietly, his words catching her completely off guard. Witness Protection was one of those things that you heard about, but you only really ever imagine having exist in movies or on TV. It didn't seem real to her, but there was nothing in Zed's demeanor that indicated he was lying or even joking around. He was entirely serious, and his body language was very clearly awkward and pained. "Witness protection? So like... You were a witness to organized crime? Or was it something different? I'll confess I know very little about that program outside of what they show you on movies and documentaries, but I know that it means that you're in pretty serious danger if you're at the point of erasing your previous self to become someone totally new. Do you want to tell me why? I mean... Are you allowed to? If you can't, I'll understand."

[zedblaze]

Zed shrugged. "About that, I guess. I don't know, I was unconscious for part of it. They just gave me the letter and told me to go to a hospital when I got back here because I didn't want the treatment there. I shouldn't have even been there in the first place, but I got into an emotional wreck and it felt like running away was the only answer when I panicked. I cut my hand pretty bad, so I was bleeding but I... I don't even know how the hooker came into the equation. I was too trashed, I don't remember. Just woke up in the ER and she was with me waiting for payment. I thought maybe she just blew me or something. Who knows, maybe she took me to an orgy and I screwed a pile of guys too. I just... don't know. And I hate myself for the whole fucking mess because I haven't gotten trashed like that in ages. Maybe forever. I usually have a cut-off point because..." Because it was always terrifying to him to think he might be like his father. Maybe that's where his intoxicated and irrational mind went... if he couldn't beat them, join them.

He shook his head at himself, because hearing it out loud, he just felt so incredibly stupid. "But it's happened, and no one tied me down and poured the shit down my throat, so either way, I've got to just deal with it. Yeah, it's nothing like it is in the movies. I didn't just go all Clark Kent and put glasses on and no one recognises who I am. No movies show that turning into someone completely different leaves you an emotional wreck or what it feels like to be completely alone where you have nothing or no one but strangers. I saw my father brutally murder a woman. He saw me when I saw him. He was a severe alcoholic, very violent when he drunk. He used to beat the shit out of me for being gay. I grew up in the South. How I speak now, it's all an act. I had to learn to talk without an accent."

[livingforlife]

"We need to get you started on this as soon as possible, then," Karla said firmly. "The longer we wait, the less likely the medication is to help you, and you're already pushing it on the time. By no means is this me rushing you out of here, but when you leave, I want you to go straight to the pharmacy and pick it up. The closest pharmacy that you find open. There's a CVS not far down the street where you can go. I can call it in for you there. You need to start taking it as soon as you pick it up, and you need to follow the directions exactly. As far as who you actually came into contact with, I guess it's kind of hard to know for sure who actually transmitted the virus to you, but with the markers being there, it's a matter of fighting back right now... It's not set in stone yet. You take the medication, and in the meantime, we wait and see what happens." She paused giving his arm a soft pat. "Was the emotional wreck because of running into someone from your past?"

Karla couldn't imagine what any of this had been like for Zed... to be young and have to not only leave your life behind you, crappy life though it may have been, and change your entire identity just to save your life. She had to wonder if Zed even felt like his life had been saved at all. "I can't imagine how that must feel, Zed. It's so far outside my realm of understanding to picture myself leaving everything I've ever known and being someone utterly different to who I was. But witnessing a murder... Thank fuck he didn't murder you. They didn't arrest him for murder? I don't... I don't want to dig into it if you're not ready to talk about it, but... I genuinely didn't really know much about the Witness Protection program. I never really imagined it being as easy as Clark Kent glasses, though. But it's true. They don't really ever present the emotional and psychological side of it. Does anyone else know? Besides me?"

[zedblaze]

"Is this going to make me feel really shit?" Zed asked quietly. Maybe it was ultimately a stupid query, because what did it matter? He just wanted to brace himself for whatever was going to come. He would have cancel out on gigs that was his income. He only owed it to his band to let the girls know he was out-of-action and couldn't be sure when he would be back on board. Melody was already texted him, worried. He had told her he was feeling shitty already, which wasn't a lie. She offered to come stay with him, but he said he wanted to be alone. "That, and fear. It was someone who hurt me more than I ever knew I could actually hurt. There's this thing in me that just wants to run when I feel at risk of being exposed, and this person was from back there. I didn't know what connections he still had to my father. I knew nothing. I hadn't spoken to them in years... even well before my father went murderer."

He shook his head and shrugged again. "I don't know what they did. They got me out of there that night and drove me... somewhere. I don't really know where, but I was put up in a hotel with a supervisor who stayed with me. I was really sick from being in shock. They brought a doctor to me and they sedated me. I was flown out the next morning, and flew me to two other cities first so no one was tracking me. All I had to do was write a suicide note, and I don't even remember what I put in that. But I don't know what happened to him. I wasn't allowed to stay in touch with anyone, and honestly... I didn't fucking want to anyway. I didn't go to much, and didn't leave much either. I have a cop who is sort of my liaison with Witness Protection in case I ever run into any shit here. One other person knows, and Witness Protection are intercepting that already. They're pretty dogged. Only thing that makes me feel safe."

[livingforlife]

"It can," Karla admitted. She didn't want to give him the run around. It wasn't her job as a physician to give people false hope or minimize the bad bits of a treatment or an illness as much as she wished she could when it came to people like Zed whom she cared abut outside of the patient-doctor connection. She looked at him and imagined Richie in his place. His mom was one of her dearest friends, and here she was, having to put a boy that was like a nephew to her through a harsh medical treatment to prevent him being diagnosed with an even harsher illness. And then there was the realization that it could truly be too late. He didn't know how long it had been, and if it was more than seventy-two hours, most doctors wouldn't even bother prescribing it, because the odds of it helping were slim to none. But they weren't sure, and Karla was damn well going to try one way or another. If it didn't work out, it didn't, but it wouldn't be for lack of trying. "Nausea, diarrhea, vomiting... nasty headaches. Not the most fun of side effects, and you have to take it consistently for the full time it's prescribed or its pretty much useless."

"So you went to Vegas because you were afraid that this person would expose you to your father... but... Why did you come back then? Not that I'm not happy you did. I am, and I know your parents will be relieved. Did this person know your father committed murder?" She didn't want to overwhelm him with questions, but at the same time, it was important to her that he know that she did care about what had happened and that he was more than just a clinical case to her. She cared about him as a person, and she cared about the why as much as the what. "I can't say I'd want to know what happened, either," Karla replied. "Not to a person who'd actively harmed me the way your dad hurt you I'm glad they got you out and brought you to a place that you feel safe, but... now that this other person has shown up, do you still feel safe?"

[zedblaze]

Maybe side effects like this existed as punishment. It certainly sounded like it was something along those lines, and he was pretty sure he deserved the punishment. He fucked up royally and he had to take it on the chin. He was going to be miserable and the prospect wasn't at all appealing. Nothing about this was appealing. He had to somehow find the balls to tell his foster parents what happened, and he knew they would be disappointed because they had been so kind to him, and tried to support him with everything. Even if it didn't seem possible, Zed ended up slumped even lower in the seat. His arm was propped up on the armrest and he nursed his head in his hand because he was overwhelmed, but who wouldn't be? On top of all the overwhelming shit, he had to put up with probably getting sick and he didn't want to be a bother to anyone. Which meant he would probably get sick alone, and feel even more miserable. "Yeah, alright. It's not like I don't deserve it. I'm not going to be one of those cocks who tries to make out I'm too up my own ass to accept help or respectfully follow advice. Whatever has to happen."

"I don't know. There's not a lot I know right now. In fact, I'd probably go so far as to say I don't know shit at the moment," he admitted tiredly. "I think it was because I didn't want to do it all again. Start all over again. The first time was hard enough, even though no one really knew that. I mean, I guess they knew I was some messed up kid, but I never spoke about it to anyone but the Witness Protection Officers and this really nice cop who has been great to me. No one knew anything. I left right after it happened. They just got me out of there straight away... and please, don't start talking to me about murderers being locked away and getting the death penalty or I'm getting up and leaving. There's only so much fucking bullshit one person can take in a week. Trust me, they don't just throw Witness Protection around unless it's vitally necessary and I just don't fucking feel like explaining everything all over again to try to justify why they did it. They did, it saved my life. End of story. Because if my father didn't kill me, I would've killed myself. Karla, I might be Positive. What's to feel safe about that?"

[livingforlife]

"I get a lot of those cocks when I work the ER," Karla replied with a shrug. "I'm used to it, but I'm glad you're not going to pull that on me. Mostly because I'm seeing you as my patient, not as my friend's son, so I can't call your mom later and have a bitch to her about how she needs to put you in your place." She attempted a smile, but it was weak, because there was no humor or mirth in a situation where someone that she truly cared about could be facing an illness like HIV. Sure it wasn't the death sentence that it used to be, but it was still scary... It still meant that your life was changed forever. Zed would forever be partially defined by his status. If he were Positive, he'd have to reveal that to every partner he slept with, no matter how safe they might be, just in case. He was a pretty sexual person, and people who'd previously been keen to sleep with him would probably change their minds quickly when he revealed his HIV status, and for someone like Zed, that would be a hard thing to face indeed. It wasn't that he wouldn't understand, but there was still a stigma and a shame attached to it that was hard for many Positive people... especially when, in Zed's case, he was already ashamed of the actions that had lead to his needing PEP in the first place.

Karla shook her head, giving his arm a gentle pat. "I'm not planning on talking to you about anything about the justice system and how it works. I'm just glad there were good cops out there who saw that you were in danger and got you out of a really bad situation that you didn't deserve t be in. But no matter how bad the situation was and how great a family Heather and Joe are, that can't have been easy. I can't imagine how terrified you must have been. I don't need an explanation or a justification, honey. I'm just glad that you're here with a family that adores you and far away from the person who was hurting you." She paused, an attempt at a smile coming off a lot more like a grimace, because his words were painful, but true. "No. You're right. It's a scary diagnosis. But the treatments now have come a long way. It's manageable now. Still an illness and not at all a fun one, but it's not something we can't treat and work with. I'm definitely not in this all happy cheerful sunshine. I just want you to know that if the tests do come back Positive, it's not the end like it used to be. I'm sure you know that. You're a smart kid. But it's harder to be aware of when it's your life."

[zedblaze]

"Even if you could, it wouldn't change anything, would it?" Zed reasoned softly. She could recruit an army of moms to stand in line and they could each try to put him in his place, but it wasn't going to take the exposure away. It wouldn't cockblock the chance that he could be Positive now. He was aware of the enormity of all this, though in a way, he was glad he wasn't in a relationship that this would impact on. But then, if he had been, he wouldn't have run away to Vegas and got messed up with an infected hooker(s?) If he had been in a loving relationship, he might have had someone to run to. Someone who could hold him and tell him it would be alright. He had never had that, and he wasn't sure he ever would now either. He could feel the emotion building inside, the tell-tale tickle in his throat trying to warn of tears. He didn't let them fall. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and kept his bloodshot blue eyes trained down on his fingers toying anxiously with the zip on his jacket.

He shifted in his seat because he was aching all over and just in general discomfort. "I guess that depends on what your definition of 'the end' is. In a lot of ways, it feels like I've been there for a long time. I'm incredibly aware of how shit life can. I'm incredibly aware of how hard it can be. I'm incredibly aware of what crippling emotions feel like. I'm incredibly aware of what being completely alone feels like. I'm incredibly aware of every level of pain. I'm incredibly aware of what it feels like to be hurt by every person you love. I'm incredibly aware of what being kicked in the nuts feels like, physically and metaphorically. Do you want me to keep going?"