Page 108 of Reacher
Damn. So Reacher can, and I can’t.No fair.
Reacher
Hewasactuallyscaringme. He sounded so final and fatalistic. Something really bad was wrong.
“Tell me you’re not leaving me, brother. I can’t do this without you.”
Stitch cursed, running a slightly shaky hand through his long blond hair.
“I don’t even know how to talk about this. I mean… if I can’t talk to you, then I guess, there’s nobody, but it’s just so fucking personal. And scary. Scary as fuck.”
I joined him over by the table, noting that his hands were trembling harder now.
“You can tell me anything, brother. Always. Don’t let this eat you up like this.”
He smirked at me. “So we’re doing the touchy feely thing then? This is where we’re at?”
I shrugged, ready to throttle him if he didn’t fucking tell me. He swallowed hard, staring at the floor as he spoke. His voice was low, and I had to strain to hear him.
“There’s a…fucking hell… there’s a lump, Reacher.”
I frowned, grabbing his shoulder.
“A what?”
He finally met my eyes, and his were wide and frightened.
“I found a lump. Down… you know…there.”
I felt like he’d just punched me with a brick, and I wasn’t the one it was happening to. He was looking paler by the second, so I guided him back to his sofa, and sat him down.
“Tell me.”
He dragged his hands down his face.
“Jesus. Saying it out loud is even scarier. You’re gonna make me see a doc, aren’t you?”
I sat on the coffee table facing him.
“Start at the beginning. How uh… what… I don’t know what to ask…” I never expected this. I felt cold inside, chilled with fear. This wasn’t some club squabble, or a drug dealer pushing his luck. This was reality. Illness. Possible life limiting news.
He stared at his hands, as he picked at the skin around his thumbnail.
“I was in the shower. Washing myself… I mean, that’s obvious. Jesus, I can’t even put this into words without sounding like a dick.”
“Stitch, this is vitally important, and how you tell me doesn’t make it any less so, and I’m not gonna judge the way you fucking tell me. Just… Jesus… you want me to get you something stronger than the coffee?”
He shook his head. “Been doing too much of that since I noticed it. Uh… it was easier to pretend it wasn’t there if I was drunk.”
I reached over and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
“Talk. Just tell me everything. It’s just me, yeah?”
He sighed, falling back against the cushions.
“We know our bodies, right? I mean, whether it’s our junk or whatever, we know the shape of everything, the texture. And… and those things are wrong down there. We all see those damn ads on TV, right? Everywhere they can promote the one thing you never want to find, and it’s there. It’s right fucking there. I can feel it. I feel like I can feel it every fucking moment of every day. And if it’s there, then I have to do something about it, and… fuck… Reacher, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”
My heart was breaking right along with his. My eyes burned with tears, and I did my best to hide that fact, because he needed me to be strong for him right now, so he could let go.
