Martin fixes the number on his mobile display. Finally he presses a key and the dialling tone lets him shiver slightly. Again it’s just Dave’s voicebox. Fuck! It’s way after midnight and Mart knows he has to do something or not only the darn album project will go down the drain. It’s not like him to come crawling – as much as it’s not Dave’s way. They are quite similar when feeling hurt.
Dave buries the blackberry under a huge pillow that adorns the couch. Another message - and he’s well aware who the sender was. He could simply switch his mobile off – yet he feels like torturing himself a little bit more.
Yeah, more self pity, Dave! Just a little more and you will feel like a piece of shit again – lying on the floor – crying like a little girl! And no one will hug and comfort you this time! You don’t allow it anyway! You don’t deserve it either! You should have known better! Stop pretending! Everybody you love sooner or later leaves you – you’re not able to keep that feeling alive! You are not alive – just look at you! Where’s the energetic, positive guy presenting his last solo? The loving and truthfull family man? The fullfilled lover? The content and happy David Gahan? WHERE is he?!
Dave wipes another burning tear away.
„Christ, I’m in the fucking shell of depression again! And I’m the only one with the key to let me out – if I’d know how to turn it in the lock!“
The door bell interrupts his miserable thoughts.
I could pretend to be deaf – or dead. Like an animal.
The one outside seems to be adamant. David gets up and staggers half blind into the hallway. Recognizing Martin through the spy hole he freezes. The blonde man now starts knocking vigorously.
„David, I know you’re in there! Open the door! I will not leave until security drags me outta here!“
Eventually Dave gives in and moves the deadbolt back.
„Oh, holy Christ!“
Martin just can catch Dave’s fall. He’s not really getting unconscious yet holds his head, moaning.
„Your migraine again?“
No answer, just a weak whimper. He drags Dave to the couch, breathing heavily with the strain. Then he dashes into the bathroom to get a wet towel and the meds.
„Dave, you need to swallow this – come on!“
He urges his band mate to drink the crystal liquid he dosed into half a glass of water. After two attempts he finally succeeds and adjusts the cold cloth on David’s forehead. Slowly the man in the cushions start to relax a little.
„Shall I call your physician?“
He feels a slight squeeze around his hand and Dave tries to speak.
„No, it’s OK now.“
He stirrs and it’s obvious that he wants to get up. Martin gently but strongly holds him back.
„You’re going nowhere now, my dark angel.“
He reaches for a plaid that’s resting over the next couch chair and covers the still tense body of his friend. Dave additionly seems to feel cold as he trembles slightly and starts to crump. Martin watches him for another moment and then gathers all his strength and lifts him up. Opening the door to the master bedroom with his right elbow he lets Dave sink onto the mattress with the last bit of breath he’s left for now.
„Geez, you’re heavier than I thought!“
David just groans, still in pain. Taking off his shoes Mart crawls into the bed next to him. Just for a split second the realisation that this is Jen’s bed, too – flashes through his mind. He wipes it immediately away when he senses Dave instinctively cuddling against his warm body. How could he deny him this simple gesture of closeness all the past days?!
After a few minutes the dark haired man’s breath calmed and he’s sound asleep. Mart gently runs his finger through the slightly damp hair.
„Poor baby cried your eyes out and then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. I’m so sorry! Don’t know what got into me today, angel. When you yelled ‚Wrong’ into me face like that I nearly died – my heart broke again. I’m as helpless as you sometimes – yet you at least can admit it publically. I can be such a coward, such a thoughtless fool, a fookin block of ice! You told me exactly what was wrong – and I just flipped and let you stand there in the rain literally. How can you love me like that? I pray I’m not too late. Please forgive me, Dave!“
Martin more inaudibly whispers it than he speaks – and he only feels safe with the knowledge David’s conscience being far away in Morpheus’ arms. Yet the man next to him surprises him another time.
„Martin, I love you.“
There it is. As simple as that. He so much yearned to hear it, but in a way more happy, romantic situation. He wanted it to be perfect, doing it right.
Congrats, Martin, you asshole! You had to put the person dearest to your heart through hell again for it!
Dave still has his lids firmly closed. There’s no smile on his full lips. He just moves a little closer towards Mart’s chest and snuggles his face into the crook of his neck.
„Just hold me, please. Make me feel home.“