"Hey, Bill." He doesn't look so good. Alyson unloaded his groceries from the
basket and scanned them. Macaroni? Canned tomato sauce? "How are you? I
haven't seen you in weeks!"

He shrugged and looked at his hands.

Alyson shook her head and totalled his order.  "Eleven dollars twenty five
cents." Not very much. Not like him to eat cheaply.  "What's the matter?"

"Will's been in the hospital. I just run home to eat something that isn't
made in the cafeteria."

"Oh no! What happened?"

"Pneumonia."

"That bad?"

"Yeah." He seems so down, she thought.

"Can I help?"

"I ... I don't know. I don't know how." He looked up at her and he looked
sadder than she'd ever seen someone before. Pneumonia that bad?

"He's not going to get better, is he?" 

Bill looked away again, then down at this hands, then shook his head slowly.
"No. He's not."

"Bill, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged.

"Can I come by? See you? See him?"

"He's at St. Mary's. I'm there every hour they'll let me." He sighed
heavily, sounding frustrated and tired.

"I'll come by when I get off work."

"Thanks. I.." He trailed off, looking at nothing in particular. "I could use
a little company."

Alyson looked behind him and saw the line growing. "I'll see you then. Take
care of yourself, eh?"

He nodded absently, took his bag of groceries and left. 

The woman in line behind him impatiently threw her groceries on the counter.
Alyson tried not to glare. "His roommate is sick. They're really close
friends."

"Whatever. I'm in a hurry." Alyson scanned the pile as fast as she could. At
least it'll fly by like it always does. She sighed, already tired.

* * *

The hospital entrance was cold, the glass leaking heat to the rainy weather
outside, and the automatic doors staying open long enough with each entrance
to cool the room. 

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to visit William Johnson."

"Are you family?"

"No, I'm a friend."

"Visitors hours start at seven. Only family is allowed until then."

Alyson sighed and sat in the chairs. Forty-five minutes. She fidgeted in the
chairs by the desk, trying to stay warm and entertained until visiting hours
started for the evening.

Traffic slowed through the entrance for a few minutes, providing a little
warmth, the doors staying blissfully closed. Five minutes before seven, they
grumbled open again and Bill walked in, looking haggard and tired.

"Bill!"

"Hey, Alyson. Thanks for coming."

"Of course!" I sound way too cheerful. "How is he?"

"Let's find out."

The elevator took what seemed like an hour to arrive, and what felt like
another hour to get to their floor. She felt like the cheery 'Ding' as the
elevator doors opened echoed inside her head.

"Which way?" The corridor looked harsh and sterile and identical in both
directions. 

"1215. On the right." They walked along the corridor, Alyson trying to step
silently so that her shoes on the linoleum didn't slap and echo.

The ward beeped and blipped with machines and monitors by each bed. A
plastic tent wrapped each bed. Alyson followed Bill's lead and took a mask
and tied it around her head, covering her mouth and nose.

They slipped inside the tent, the thick walls crinkling as they entered.
Will looked up at them from the hospital bed, an oxygen line running to his
nose. 

"Hi" he said weakly. His eyes still shone brightly, the smile he always wore
on his whole face still there in his eyes. Alyson smiled.

"You came back." She wasn't sure whether Will sounded surprised or not.

"Of course I came back. They won't let me in during family-only hours, but
I came the moment visitor's hours opened." Bill sounded so tired and
frustrated.

"You're my family."

"I know, love." Alyson stopped for a moment, realization dawning on her.
They love each other. I saw roommates, and they love each other. The
frustration and rage that she felt from Bill suddenly snapped into sharp
focus, and she tried not to let it show on her face.

Will looked over at her, then back to Bill. "She just figured it out." He
seemed to be laughing even though he was out of breath talking even that
much. She blushed as Bill looked at her, and the first smile she'd seen on
his face lit up. 

"I didn't know! It's so ... I'm so sorry, Will. I'm so sorry," Alyson said.

He laughed, and she blushed more.  "I had a bet going with Bill on how long
it would take. Looks like he lost."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah. It passes the time, you know."

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to get better, right?"

He paused, blue eyes still for a moment. Alyson watched him swallow, open
his mouth to speak, then swallow again.

"Probably not."

She felt tears well up in her eyes. "Why not!?" Hysteria tinged her words.

"I've been dying for a long time. I probably can't," he took a breath.
"fight this off. They're pumping me full of antibiotics," another breath, 
"and it might help but it might not."

Alyson started to sob as the full reality hit her. AIDS. 

"How long have you known?"

"Fifteen years. A little less."

She nodded, feeling her stomach stop thrashing and settle into a cold, hard
lump. She squeezed his hand. His eyes smiled as she did.

A rustle outside the isolation tent, then they heard the strident voice of
the duty nurse. "Family only. Time to go, folks!"

Alyson felt her throat close up and new tears well. Damnit. So unfair. 

Bill tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm too tired to fight anymore."

The look on his face made her stomach clench. So drawn, tired. He looked
older suddenly. She glanced back at Will, and saw a tear slide down his
cheek. 

Will said "wait a moment," and Alyson caught a little motion from his left
hand as he hit a switch on the control near his bed.

The nurse's voice came through the plastic curtain. "Yes, Mr. Johnson?"

"This is my family."

"I'm sorry. Only immediate family members."

He coughed and fought to speak.

"They're my family."

Bill gave Will a look that Alyson could only interpret as frustration and
pity.

The nurse stepped through the opening in the tent holding a mask over her
face. "I'm sorry. You two need to leave. You're not immediate family."

Alyson choked back every venomous comment that came to mind. Bill just
looked beaten. "How long have you been fighting this?"

"Since he got here. Two weeks. Every night, they push me out. Every nurse."

"It's policy, sir. Time to go." The shrill voice came through the plastic
again. "Five minutes."  She left the tent and they were blissfully alone for
a few more moments.

Alyson hugged Bill gently. Bill leaned over, glanced to make sure the nurse
wasn't watching, then lifted his mask and pressed his lips to Will's. They
are so beautiful, Alyson thought. I wish anyone in my life cared that much.

Bill stood and turned away, his hand lingering in Will's, then slipping away
and didn't look back. He ducked out of the tent, stalked silently  out of
the ward, leaned against the wall and started sobbing. He slid down the wall
and covered his face with his hands.

"Bill?"

He shrugged.

Alyson sat down next to him and threw her arm around him. He shrugged again,
then struck the floor so hard that Alyson jumped.

"I can't believe it. I never thought it would end this way. I know this
happens, I know partners get asked to leave, and people die alone. But. Not.
Will." He struck the floor again.

"Bill? Can I stay with you tonight?"

"... I don't know. I should get back to the bar, I just closed so I could
come here."

"Oh, Bill. Let me at least come hang out, keep you company?"

"Okay." He sounded flat and cold. 

* * *

Alyson pulled her collar up, trying to keep the blowing rain out of her
coat. She shivered in the cold wind. Two more blocks. I thought running to
the market would be better, but I think the chinese delivery might have been
the smart choice. I wish it would just snow again. At least it won't trickle
down the inside of your coat.

She clutched the plastic bag with pasta and vegetables in it and pulled the
door to the bar open. Still empty. "Is business down?"

"Yeah. A bit. Closing to be with Will hasn't helped."

"Shit. That's gotta be hard."

"Eats into the savings a bit. Whatever." That flat, cold tone in Bill's
voice had spread to every conversation now. "Thanks for getting the food. I
still say take-out would have been better. You're soaked."

"Yeah. I think I agree with you now. You want to cook or shall I?" Alyson
asked.

"I guess you can. I don't really feel like it."

"You sure? You love to cook."

Bill shrugged and Alyon felt the memory of her first day with Bill and Will
becoming more bittersweet. The food, the wine, the safe space to relax in
and forget about surviving for a little while. It felt so far away, even if
it was only months ago.

"I can cook pasta. I'm just not so good as you are. I can make something if
you want though."

Bill shrugged behind the bar and dried glasses.

Alyson got up and went behind the bar and hugged him. She felt a tear splash
on her hands, and looking up, saw his eyes brimming over, and Bill struggled
to keep the tears in check.

"How about we order chinese anyway, and I can stay here and be with you?"

Bill nodded sadly. "I'd like that. I don't want to be alone right now."

"Alright. Got any favorites?"

"Number thirteen. Extra egg rolls."

Alyson couldn't help grinning at knowing the menu well enough to know the
numbers. "Do they have anything with mushrooms?"

"Number twenty-three. But it's spicy."

"That's okay."

Alyson dialed, a short pause. "Yes. Number thirteen, extra egg rolls. Number
twenty-three. Yes, spicy is fine." She paused and clasped the receiver.
"Bill! What's the address here?"

"1520 Brook"

"1520 Brook." Another pause. She clasped the receiver again. "He says to
tell you you are still up to no good, and your food will arrive cold and
soggy."

Bill's face betrayed him, and a smiled crossed it briefly. "Tell Fong to
kiss it."

Alyson blushed and laughed. "He says you can kiss it, Fong." She listened,
then laughed and said to Bill "And on second thought, you can have it warm
and fresh." She hung up. "Old friend?"

"I've been getting take-out from him for nine years. Ever since he bought
the place."

Not ten minutes later, a Chinese man burst in the door of the bar carrying a
plastic sack. He looked up and down the bar once. "No customer?"

"Slow night," Bill said, stepping out from behind the bar and hugging the
man.

"Too much time with your boyfriend."

Bill sighed. "Or not enough."

"You need help here." He gestured broadly. "Too much work for someone who
goes to hospital every day."

Alyson watched the two of them, seeming to verbally fence with each other. 

"I do fine." Parry.

"Then why so quiet?" Thrust.

"Slow night." A poor block.

The man stood up straight, still not impressively tall, but stopped talking
for a moment and just watched Bill. Bill fidgeted. Another look up and down.

"Dying." Touché. That certainly isn't going to keep this conversation going
strong.

Bill sighed and sat. "Yes. Fong, he's dying." He sounded utterly emotionless.

"Eat." Fong pulled out three pails from the bag, and a paper bag full of egg
rolls. He pushed one pail toward Bill, and another toward Alyson. Alyson set
to picking the large pieces of onion out of it, then eating it and watching
Bill.

Bill picked at his food.

"Eat! You take care of you too. You eat, you see Will, you let this young
lady tend your bar."

Bill looked surprised. "Alyson tend..." he trailed off. "Would you want to?"

Alyson looked up, holding an onion slice awkwardly with her chopsticks. "I
could do that, I guess. The market isn't exactly my dream job."

"Since Will got sick, I couldn't think of anyone I could trust behind the
bar," tears of relief slid down his cheeks "and I didn't have the heart to
look."

"Oh, Bill. I'd love to." And we have to talk about money. It's so tight as
it is, she thought. She fished a couple more onion slices out of her meal
and then took a bite.

"Fong, how do you do that? You always know just what's needed."

Fong shrugged. "I just say what is."

* * * 

"So what do I do if someone gets violent?" Alyson dried glasses while Bill
vacuumed the floor.

"Hasn't happened in a while. You ask them to leave, if they don't you call
the police."