A/N: I got the title from the spoken word poem by Shane Koyczan you've probably heard it and I'm in love with it, so hereee we goooo! I just like that poem and the name even though it's completely irrelevant to this chapter.
The world freezes, his mind an empty road, not a tumble weed in sight.
"Your results were positive."
Does he cry? Does he scream? Does he deny?
What would a sane person do if they found out at seventeen, they had HIV?
He breathes out a slow breath.
"It is a good thing we caught this early. Many people could've been affected by a simple mistake. I am so glad teens like you, decide I need to be tested. Before I ruin others' life." The doctor smiles.
He can only nod his head. He wants to cry. He knows that now.
"So there is no cure for HIV, but we do have this therapy called antiretroviral therapy. With this you can live a normal, healthy life."
He doesn't want to be in this room. He needs to breathe. He needs to scream. He needs to cry. He needs. He needs. He needs...a friend. He needs Reychel.
"We need to start treatment quickly."
HIV? Do I have AIDS? He thinks.
"Now you don't have aids. That is the most advanced stage of HIV."
Now he feels the tears. He feels them choking him.
"What-" Breath. "What stage am I at?"
"The second. Clinical Latency Stage. There are three stages. But many patients in the second stage live up to several decades."
What if he hadn't shown up to this appointment? What if he waited so long it progressed to AIDS?
"How-" Breath. "How l-" Breath. "How long would a person with-" Breath. Sniffle. Breath. "How long if you had AIDS?"
He frowns. "Three Years."
He chokes. "What if-" He chokes. Tears are coming now, the Dam slowly cracking. "What if treatment doesn't work?"
The doctor sighs. They both know the answer. He just wanted the Doctor to lie. He wanted to hear, "It will work. You'll never get AIDS." but at the same time he never thought he would get HIV.
"Do you have anymore questions?" The Doctor looks him in his brown eyes.
He bites so hard on his bottom lip hurts and he can taste the blood, shaking his head.
"I'll have the Reception call you for your first treatment." The Doctor smiles.
He chokes out a small "Thank you".
He walks through the small white hallway looking at the old paintings of fruits and boats. He pushes open the heavy door.
"How'd it go Matt?"