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Whispers Two	By : Queenie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 6350 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
**A/N: Once more, props go out to Katevh, who wrote most of the dream sequence. I just added a few frills and ribbons, I can't take creditt. What would I do without that girl? :)

“Jase? Jase, are you home? Jason…Jason! Oh, shit, chico, what have you done? Jason, can you hear me?”

Torio’s voice drifted in through the blackness that was my mind, slowly prodding me into consciousness. I could feel his warm hands on my face, on my neck, checking for a pulse, I guess, and I struggled with everything inside me to let him know that I was awake, that I could hear him.

“Jason, come on, honey, wake up…wake up for me, bello…” Torio’s voice was frantic, scared, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his fearth eth every ounce of strength I possessed, I forced my eyes to flicker open.

“Tory,” I tried to whisper, but no sound came out, I wasn’t even sure if my lips moved. I could see his beautiful, blurry face hovering above me, could just make out the panic on his features. I tried again. “Tory…”

“Hush, bello, don’t try and talk. Oh, shit, we have to get you to the hospital…I’m going to ring an ambulance now, Jase.”

I couldn’t respond, could only lay there, wearily watching as Torio effortlessly grabbed the phone that had been so far out of my reach, and dialled the ambulance. And then even watching became too much effort, I felt my eyes slowly slip closed again, welcoming the relief.

“Definite heroin overdose, yes…Jason! Jason, come on, don’t close your eyes, stay awake for me, honey…I know, I’m trying!” Torio growled into the phone, told them to hurry up, and was back by my side. “Jason, you must stay awake, do you hear me? This is very import”
”

I couldn’t, though. The blackness was too inviting, too soothing. My eyes stayed closed, and Torio’s voice slowly faded away. I was back in oblivion, and quite happy to stay there.

~~~

I drifted.

I was spinning through space, nothing left of me, no body, nothing but my feelings, and I was cold and alone. I knew it, I had to be, the loneliness was surrounding me, eating at me, until I was too much to bare. I let go, felt myself falling, felt something cold under me, and god, it was so black… I didn’t want to be feeling this. I concentrated on not being there, concentrated on letting go, somesomething wasn’t letting me, something was…

It wasn’t long before I realised I wasn’t alone anymore. I could feel my body shifting and I felt the ground move from underneath me. I clawed at something, anything, for support and found it in the shoulders of a man.
‘Shhh…’ he whispered to me. ‘I’ve got you, baby.’

He was Marshall. I opened my eyes and looked into his burning blue gaze, saw his face just above me, smiling down at me. ‘What are you doing here?’ I managed to rasp. He just shook his head, traced his fingers over my cheek.

‘That doesn’t matter, Jase. What matters is that I’m here.’

My body didn’t hurt anymore. I could feel where his arms were around me, but nothing else. I felt as if I could melt into his chest and become him. As if he and I weren’t really there.

I closed my eyes again and when I opened them I felt surprise run over my body. I was lying down, he had laid me down on a bed. I was naked but covered by silk sheets. I was no longer tired. He appeared out of nowhere to my left and came and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Marshall…’ I muttered. He leant down towards me, pressing his finger to my lips.

‘You don’t have to say anything, baby,’ he whispered onto my face.

And then I knew where I was. It was the bed that had haunted my fantasies of a happier life. Whenever I pictured myself living a life away from heroin, away from slums and away from pain and hardship, I imagined myself here. In this four poster bed, draped with red and gold silk and covered in plump cushions.
‘Am I dead?’ I asked, fear clutching at my throat. I didn’t want to be dead, I didn’t want to give up, not yet, not *now,* when I finally had someone to love me and take care of me. No, please, anything but dead…

Marshall said nothing. He brought his lips down upon mine, kissed me softly, sweetly. ‘Your lips are warm,’ he whispered against them, ‘You’re always so warm…’

My heart skipped a beat as I pulled him down towards me, down onto the mattress, lifted up the sheets and let his naked body slide in next to mine. I rolled over until I was lying on his stomach, my hair falling over my shoulder and onto his face. His strong arms surrounded me, covered my back and shoulders. His breath was warm on the tip of my nose and it smelt almost sweet.

He pushed the sheets down, off my back and down around my ankles. The rush of air to my skin was not cold; it was perfectly warm. I felt his hands caress down my spine, gently, as he gazed into my eyes.

‘Jason…’ he whispered, his lips pursing at the start of my name. ‘I to to have you now, please.’ His words sent chills over the places where his hands were touching me. An intense wave of pleasure swept through my body, suddenly I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life, not even heroin.

‘Oh, god yes, Marshall.’ I whimpered, pouting just a little. ‘Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me hard until I scream your name.’

His ferocious kiss was not an unwanted surprise. My tongue searched his mouth, drawing in his taste. Exploring him, rediscovering what he felt like on the inside. If evherehere was a kiss of life, this was it. I could almost feel his soul merge with migivigiving me strength, giving me courage. Giving me everything.

I felt my body relax into him as he rolled me over gently, softly. He placed me back down on the mattress as if he feared breaking me. I opened my legs and his thigh nestled neatly in the recently vacated space. Not once did he release my lips from his.

I could feel his hands on my body, hovering over my chest and gently stroking my stomach. It was if he was conducting electricity in the palm of his hand, every time he touched me my body shivered and ached for him to touch me more.

My need for him was a craving; I was desperate. I let out another soft whimper, his name coming from my lips like pure desire, like a prayer.

He began moving down my body, kissing slowly along my ribs, then my stomach. He kissed and nibbled at my belly button before settling in the crease of my hips. I writhed underneath him, begging him to move just a little bit further. I could swear he was enjoying himself. His eyes twinkled up at me as he trailed his tongue across my belly button, slowly, slowly, ‘till I was almost insane.

I gasped and grew impatient. ‘God, please, Marshall…’ I mumbled, pushing his shoulders. ‘Please, I need it so bad.’
I could hear him sigh, possibly in satisfaction, as he moved down further, to where my cock was rock hard and thumping for him. Just his breath on my sensitive skin nearly sent me right off. I could have died right there if it wasn’t for the promise of more.
I felt his lips inch their way onto the head of my cock and my brain stopped working. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. Slowly, gently, he swirled his tongue around it, only stopping occasionally to nibble just enough to make me shiver.
‘Jesus’ I managed to force out.
He inched a little further down, lng mng my cock slide into his mouth. It was so warm, so wet and my heart jumped at the thought of coming in it.
He moved further down again, maybe half way down. I was ready to blow right then and there but I held it back, clinging desperately to the bed sheets. I could feel sweat collecting on my forehead. I arched my back and he took a little more in. I bucked my hips and he moved just a little further down.
Until finally, in one blissful second, he had all of me between his lips.

His head began bobbing and mine began thrashing. I don’t think I was breathing. It was the most indescribable thing I had ever felt in my life. I moaned and he groaned onto my cock, sending shockwaves down the shaft to my spine. I looked down at him, saw his head moving and his lips stretched to fit me in. His eyes fluttered open and suddenly he was looking right at me, his eyes soft.
I glanced over his shoulder to his arm, which I could see was darting across his body.
‘Marshall!’ I gasped, the thought of him masturbating in front of me enough to knock my thoughts off kilter for a few seconds.
My cock thumped desperately, it pulsed with need.

He looked up at me guiltily. I couldn’t take much more of this. I reached down, pulling him off my cock and into my arms. I kissed his neck and nibbled on his ear lobe as our bodies crushed together. For that moment all I wanted to do was hold him.
And then that moment passed.

I rolled him off me, turning myself over onto my stomach and finally looking over my shoulder. I looked him right in the eye as I raised my knees, my cock hanging down. As he moved behind me, he bent and licked at my back and I gasped. His tongue was hotter than a thousand fires.
He moved down further, running over my cheeks to my crack. I sighed as he pushed his tongue over my hole. His tongue teased me, played with everything I could bare. I moaned and bucked on his face but still he refused to push it in. I was desperate for him, I wanted him inside me. My cock thundered and I needed some kind of release.

His tongue moved from my skin and I felt his cock head pushing gently on my opening. Oh God how I wanted him to fuck me, how I wanted him to plunge into me and thrust until I burst all over the bed. It wasn’t enough for him to put it in; I needed him to slam me into the mattress.
And he did.

I listened to him moan as his cock plunged into my hole and held my breath. His deep, guttural sigh reverberated right through me and into my cock. In an instant he was thrusting, pulling almost all the way out and then back down into me. I could feel his hands on my hips, pulling me onto his cock over and over again.
‘Jesus, more!’ I almost screamed, my cock thundering and my body on fire. I heard him moan again as he forced himself into me, as he pulled out and pushed in with all the force he could muster. It felt so good, better than anything in my life.
‘Yes….oh God, Jase. Yes… was was muttering, his voice wavering and strained.

I thought I’d died and gone to heaven and I just didn’t care.
‘Marshall….harder. Please.’ I begged, my breath coming in short bursts. I could hear him panting behind me.

He starts grunting and I can hear my own sounds matching his. I can feel it building in my cock, in my stomach, in my thighs. I know that I will come soon, with him behind me fucking as hard as he can, on my dream bed in this strange half-world, and the idea gets me hotter than ever before. I want him to come inside me so bad and I start meeting his thrusts, clenching my muscles around his cock and groaning. I can hear him gasp in appreciation and he begins to fuck me harder still, in and out until I think I’m about to scream.

‘Oh, Jesus…Jesus yes!’ Marshall screams and I can feel it too, his come ready to squirt up into my body just as mine is ready to squirt out onto the sheets. I can feel it rushing over me, little tingles that will grow into convulsions of pleasure.

‘Yes! Yes!’ I scream, my body succumbing to the beautiful sensations. It is overpowering, and I’m desperate for Marshall to feel the same. I thrust back one last time and clench my muscles.

And then he comes, hard. Right up inside me.

‘Jesus Christ!’ He yells over my shoulder as his body gives way and collapses onto me.

I lay back down, panting into the sheets. He is on top of me still, pulling out of my body and covering me with his muscles and sweat. I could lie like this forever.

One last time, I feel his strong hands pulling me over and onto my back. He settles me down into the mattress, onto the bed.
I watched him push my hair behind my ears and tried to protest.
‘Hush, Jase,’ he whispered again, his words tickling the air around his lips.

I watched as he slipped off the bed, glancing over his shoulder at me one more time. I felt my body grow heavy as he left me. As if he was the one thing keeping me afloat. The air wavers as the door shuts behind him, and then my vision goes dim, the room dissolves, the fantasy bed is gone and I know it’s over, whatever strange plane I’m on is sending me back. My spirit soars for just an instant and then I can feel myself being pulled back into the familiar confines of my own body.

I know I’m back, I know I’m going to be ok. And I know that I owe it all to Marshall.

~~~

In the all the stories, whenever anyone is put in hospital, they end up in a coma for days before finally opening their eyes and seeing their loved ones sitting next to their bed. Eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, lips chewed, jittery from coffee, but always intensely beautiful, always the sweetest thing the patient has ever seen. That’s just the way it goes, right?

Well, my life has never exactly been a fairy tale.

I woke up to the sight of a young girl in the bed opposite me throwing up. She was stick thin, thinner even then me, and about seventeen or so. She was furtively vomiting into her bed pan, jamming her fingers into her throat and looking around after every retch. I watched her dispassionately for a moment, trying to get my head together, trying to realise that I was actually awake, and alive, and in hospital watching someone who looked like they were anorexic, or bulimic, or something, vomiting. Not exactly fairy tale stuff, no. My first coherent thought, other then, ‘That’s fucking disgusting,’ was ‘Where’s Marshall?’

I wanted Marshall. I had a tube down my nose, and a needle with another tube stuck in my arm, and I was too cold, my throat was dry, my stomach was hurting. My eyes felt like they were wrapped in sandpaper. My hair was all greasy as if it hadn’t been washed in a month, and I was in desperate need of a shower. But all that was secondary, because I wanted Marshall, and I couldn’t see him.

And then I turned my head.

He was right there, sound asleep in an incredibly uncomfortable looking chair. His face was pale; his short hair messed up. He looked like he could use a shower too, and he was snoring very lightly, but, yeah, he was the sweetest thing that I’d ever seen in my life. I didn’t even care that he wasn’t awake, I didn’t care that he wasn’t clutching my hand and gazing at me lovingly like in the stories. I didn’t give a shit. He was there, and that was all that mattered. I was alive, and Marshall was with me.

I watched him for a few minutes, taking in the smooth lines and soft hollows of his beautiful face, counting his freckles with my blurry eyes, studying the subtle gleam of light off his pink lips. I didn’t have the heart, or the energy, frankly, to wake him up. I was content just to be there, looking at him. The sight of his face was bringing back a memory, something about a bed, a beautiful room, and Marshall had been there, he’d been with me, but it was just out of my grasp…

The problem was solved for me a minute later anyway, when Torio entered the room holding two steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee. The smell wafted over to me and, with the exception of heroin and sex, was the single most delicious sensation I’d ever felt. I could have kissed him.

He let out a soft sigh when he saw Marshall sleeping, and paused indecisively. “Poor chico,” he whispered, shaking his head. His soft Spanish voice almost made me cry.

“One of those better be for me,” I managed to croak out before the tears came, my voice sounding raspier than Janis Joplin’s after a night of binging on Southern Comfort. I winced at the sound of it, than watched in amusement as Torio did a double take, relief rushing over his features, and nearly dropped the cups.

“Jason!” he cried, grinning happily, not bothering about keeping his voice low, “About fucking time you woke up, kid!” I grinned back as Marshall awoke with a start, first staring at Torio and than looking down at me. His red-rimmed blue eyes went wide, and his hand immediately shot out to grab mine.

“Oh, thank god,” he murmured, “We almost thought you’d never wake up. Christ, you had us so scared.”

“Jase, never do that again,” Torio added, sitting on my other side, grabbing at my other hand, “What would we do without you, chico, huh?”

I looked from him to Marshall in confusion. I’d never had anyone so glad to see me wake up before; it was all a little too much. The scene was like a more extreme version of the one that had taken place at my flat the day before. “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to sit up and having Marshall and Torio simultaneously push me back down. “How long was I asleep?”

They stared at me in slight disbelief for what seemed like forever, until a strand of dread started uncurling in my belly. Right. It had been bad, then.

“Asleep?” Torio finally broke the silence, speaking slowly and gently as if he didn’t want to scare me, “Jason, you’ve been in a coma for just over a week.”

“We weren’t sure you’d pull through,” Marshall added, and I watched in amazement as a few tears started to pool in his eyes, “We really didn’t know if you’d make it.”

I sank into my pillow and tried to absorb that, tried to let my head get around the fact that I’d literally almost died, that I’d been in a coma. I couldn’t do it. It was too much, far too much, to handle right then.

“Shit,” I finally managed, eloquently, “That fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

It wasn’t meant to be funny, but maybe my subconscious knew better than I did, because after another slight, disbelieving pause, Marshall and Tory started pissing themselves laughing, the tension almost visibly draining out of their faces. I joined in, still a bit bemused and dazed, but warmed by the affectionate, familiar sound of their laughter. I could think about my near death experience another time. Now was too sweet to miss.

A few seconds later, however, a doctor rushed into the room, gave Marshall and Torio dirty looks, then turned her attention to me. “So you decided to wake up, did you, Mr. Bexley?” she asked coolly, studying what I assumed was my file like it was the most interesting thing on earth. “It took you long enough. I was just about to kick these two out for good. They haven’t left ysideside for a week, all they’ve done is sit here and swear and disturb the other patients.” She took my left hand from Tory’s grasp, earning herself two reproving looks, and felt my wrist as if she didn’t quite trust the heart monitor I was hooked up to.

“We wouldn’t have left,” Marshall said stubbornly. He and Torio looked like guilty schoolboys.

The doctors face softened into a sympathetic smile. “No, I suspect you wouldn’t have,” she sighed, than made as if to hit them each over the head with the file. “Now out, both of you, I need a few minutes with the patient. Go be crude in the waiting room for a change.”

For an instant, they looked like they were about to disobey, and Marshall tightened his grip on my hand defiantly, but then she deviously added, “It’s for his own god, and you know it,” and Torio reluctantly stood up.

“C’mon, then, Mat,” he muttered, and I wondered when they’d arrived at the nickname level. Mat, I liked it. “We’d better let the senora work her magic.”

Marshall hesitated a moment longer, then he gave my hand a final, reassuring squeeze and stood up. “You’ll tell us when we can see him again, right?” he asked the doctor, his tone pleading. I was so touched, by both of them. I could hardly believe they cared that much.

“Of course I will,” she answered patiently, “I wouldn’t want the Real Slim Shady angry at me now, would I?”

Torio grabbed Marshall’s hand and dragged him out before he could form any response to *that,* and I looked after them longingly. It was too soon to be left on my own, too soon to have the only two people in my life that I actually loved taken away from me.

The next twenty minutes were a mild form of torture as the doctor poked me, prodded me, asked me embarrassing questions, and jabbed a variation of needles into my arm. The only thing that kept from getting through it was the thought of Marshall and Tory coming back. I wasn’t doing anything to jeopardise that.

Eventually, she finished, taking a seat next to me. “Jason,” she said, “Did that suck?”

I nodded, probably pouted. “Yes,” I muttered petulantly. She looked pleased.

“Good. Most of it wasn’t necessary. Do you want to see your friends?”

I gaped at her in astonishment and nodded again. “Of course you do. They could have been here through all of that. Instead, they’re sitting out there in the waiting room, scared half to death, sleep deprived, hurting very deeply.” She looked into my eyesoes oes it hurt knowing you did that to them?”

I felt tears cascade down my cheeks. What the fuck was her problem? “Of course it fucking hurts!” I sobbed, “I love them!”

“Then never do this again!” she grabbed my hand, her eyes blazing. “I want to make this experience as unpleasant as possible, Jason, because I never want to see you in here again. I never want to have to come in here every day and see someone as beautiful as you, with a future as promising as yours, lying on a bed just wasting away. I never want to have to look at those two and have to tell them that there hasn’t been any changes. Do you understand me? Jason, if you love them like you say you do, get off heroin. Clean up your act. Get a job, and give yourself a future. Because if you don’t, then I’ve no doubt that I will see you here again.” She sat back and sighed, letting that sink in. “I’m sorry. But it had to be said.”

I gazed up into her face for a minute, then looked away, thoughtful, stunned. I remembered the look of relief on their faces when I’d woken up, remembered the dark hollows under both their eyes, the unnatural pallor to their faces. And then I thought back even further, to the little things I’d always over-looked. The barely hidden disappointment in Tory’s eyes whenever I showed up at his club high. The pain in Marshall’s voice when he begged me to stay when I told him I needed to go shoot up.

Jesus, I’d been so selfish.

I couldn’t answer her. I just looked up through my tears and gave a very small nod. Her gaze immediately softened.

“Jason, I’m not doing this to hurt you,” she said, “I’m doing it because I hate to see boys like you wasting their lives. You’re very, very lucky you’ve got Marshall and Vittorio. Don’t waste them, too.”

“I won’t,” I whispered, wiping at me face, “Can I see them now, please?”

She stood up and smiled. “I’ll send them right in,” she promised, “Just you remember what I said, they love you very much. Especially Marshall. He’s giving up a lot for you, Jason. The least you can do is give up heroin for him.”

And then she was gone, and I was alone for the first time since I’d woken up. But I knew it wouldn’t be for long, would never be for long. Because Marshall loved me, Tory to, and I could rely on that forever.

I was going to see his face again, and there would always be an ‘again.’ It was going to be ok. Of course, we still had some shit to sort out, there was Donna, and the bad press, and the guy who’d tried to kill me. There would be fights, as with any couple. There would be pain. I was going to give up heroin, I knew it, and that was never easy. But fuck it; we could get through it together. We could get through anything together.

A minute later the door opened, and I was gazing into his eyes. This was the man I would love for the rest of my life, I knew it the like I’d *always* known it. There would never be anyone but Marshall.

And, like always, as soon as the thought came into my head, it was leaving my lips.

“I’m going to love you forever,” I whispered, the rest of the world disappearing until it was just him and me. “I swear.”

Marshall’s face lit up, his eyes shone. Bending over the bed, he cupped my face in his palms and gave me a very, very soft, very, very sweet kiss. “I know, Jason,” he replied against my lips, “I know. And I’ma love you forever, too. You can *always* count on me.”

I smiled and closed my eyes, barely felt Marshall kiss away the tears soaking my cheeks. So, this is happiness, I was thinking. I could get used to this.

And I knew I’d have an eternity to do it.

~End~
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