London Nightengate
Content Warning: Cancer, Death, Discrimination (Transgender)
One—two—three. One—two—three. One—two—three. Darcy told himself in his mind, counting to the beat of an imaginary metronome. Breathe in for one beat, hold for two, and release for three. In through his nose and out through his mouth. He slowly turned his eyes from the trees to his hand, slowly and shakily lifting it from his stomach.
His vision blurred as he struggled to keep his breathing calm, the tight grip of panic beginning to close around his chest once more. Blood covered his hands, soaked through his clothes. Applying pressure once more, he tried to get his bearings. He sat outside of a red car that was smashed to bits, the front end crumpled up against a tree, windshield shattered.
The bleeding was from a large shard of glass during the accident. Taking his phone out of his pocket he tried to see if he had service…the phone was completely crushed. Tears welled in his eyes. “What am I going to do?” He said out loud. He hadn’t been this scared since his 21st birthday, when he came out to his family and friends.
How had he gotten the courage then? How did he overcome his fear? That’s right…he thought, looking back on the memory.
“Happy birthday!” His mother had said, coming around the corner with a cake, everyone gathered around the table. Back then, he wasn’t Darcy, he was Elizabeth. “Anything my darling girl would like to say?” She asked.
He hadn’t told anyone who he was. “Um…yeah…there is, actually,” he told her.
“Go on baby,” she told him.
“Um…I’m…I’m transgender…I identify as a man, not a woman,” he said, heart hammering in his chest. “And my name isn’t Elizabeth, I’d like to be called Darcy from here on out,” he said.
A look of shock crossed over his mother’s face; it was mirrored in a lot of others too. The energy of the room felt hostile, he heard a few people mutter ugly words under their breath, thinking he hadn’t heard them. The shock in his mother’s eyes quickly turned into anger. Darcy could tell where this was going, rising to his feet he left before his mother could say anything hurtful. When he reached the front door, he heard his mother calling out to him as Elizabeth, shouting obscenities. As he began walking down the driveway towards his car in the cold winter air, breath billowing out in plumes he felt someone grab his arm. “Wait!” A familiar voice said. Turning, Darcy saw it was his best friend, James. “Wait, don’t go yet,” he said.
“You too?” Darcy asked.
“No, no, let me speak, please. Darcy, isn’t it? Nice to meet you, I’m James,” he said, extending a hand.
Darcy blinked in surprise, taking James’s hand. “Yeah, Darcy, why are you introducing yourself like this?” He asked.
“Because mate, I get to finally meet the real you. Probably not much different from Elizabeth, but I figure it’s a start,” he said.
“A start for what?” Darcy asked.
“To helping you figure out who you are, Darcy. You need someone, I saw the way they looked at you. If they truly love you they would accept you, not start looking at you like you’re an alien,” he explained. “What do ya say we go out tomorrow, hit the town? Just you an’ I, none of those other blokes,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” Darcy said, his face becoming bright, a large smile on his lips, blue eyes lighting up.
The next day James had taken him to a hair salon. “First things first, let’s get ya a haircut,” James told him. “Any kind you want.”
Darcy looked through a catalogue the stylist gave him, asking James on his opinion when he saw one he liked. “That one, it’s perfect,” he said, pointing to one of the styles. Darcy looked at it, he nodded his head, showing it to the stylist.
After she was done, she turned Darcy towards the mirror, his dark hair all around him on the floor, when he opened his eyes he felt them begin to water. He hadn’t begun his physical transition yet with hormones, but just this change made him feel overjoyed. “I love it!” He exclaimed, James’s mouth beaming into a magnificent smile.
Afterwards he took him to the mall. “Now to get you a new outfit, I don’t care how expensive it is, if you like it, I’m gettin’ it for ya mate,” he said. “Afterwards, we’ll do some good ol’ fashioned thrifting as well.”
That day, James had spent hours with Darcy trying on clothes, mixing, and matching. Eventually they walked out with two whole outfits from the mall and quite a few things from various thrift stores. Because of James, Darcy had the courage to begin his hormones, eventually get his surgeries for a full transition. James had given him the courage to be himself and get through any fear or uncertainty. He had been understanding whenever Darcy became upset about his situation, had taken care of him after surgeries, had been there during them. Darcy still remembers the time he awoke from one of his surgeries to find James sitting beside his bed with a balloon that said it’s a boy! A large plush bear in his arms. A look of worry quickly turning to relief.
If James were here with Darcy currently, he would be telling him to head towards the road, find help. He had crashed his car after it slid on some ice, tumbling down a steep hill and into the forest where it smashed into a tree. Lifting his hand once more, Darcy saw the bleeding from his wound had stopped. Slowly he pushed himself up, his body protesting, bruised with some broken bones most likely.
Moving in the direction of the road the cold slowly began to creep up on Darcy as time passed. His injuries were slowing him down, his head pounded, and the world dipped and spun around him, blurred. When he came to the hill he collapsed, he couldn’t keep going.
“I’m sorry…” He whispered, tears springing to his eyes, thinking of James again. “I couldn’t keep my promise…”
It had been a few years after he transitioned. James and he had been at a bar, hanging out. Some guys they went to high school with had entered, spotting James and Darcy they approached the counter. “Hey, didn’t recognize ya, Elizabeth,” one of them said.
“Sorry, it’s Darcy now,” he said.
“She can’t be serious,” the other guy said.
“Hey, Darcy is a he, if you can’t respect that then leave,” James said, turning towards them.
“You sure about that? Last I knew she didn’t have the right equipment,” the guy said.
“That’s none of your business,” Darcy told him. “Come on James, they won’t leave, so we might as well,” he said.
“Don’t leave, I said last we knew,” the guy, Dan said.
Darcy made for the exit, only for Dan to grope him, James reacted instantly, shoving him away from Darcy. “Keep your hands off of him!” James shouted.
Dan punched James, and from there the situation turned into a full-on brawl between them. Dan suddenly pulled out a pocketknife, slicing James’s face who clutched his cheek. As Mark left, Dan made a move to try to stab James, Darcy kicked him between the legs, sending him to his knees, James headbutting him. “I suggest you keep your hands off of Darcy,” James told Dan as the barkeep escorted them out.
They headed back to James’s apartment. “You didn’t have to do that, we could have just left,” Darcy told him, cleaning the cut on his cheek.
“It’s not right for anyone to grab someone like that, you shouldn’t have to put up with harassment just because you’re different,” James said, wincing as the rubbing alcohol burned the cut.
“You’re lucky I’m an ER nurse, or I’d be taking you to the hospital, and you’d be stuck with paying the bill,” he told him.
“I wouldn’t want anyone else as my nurse,” he said with a smile. “I couldn’t really afford the bill anyway…I’m already paying a lot of medical bills…” he said, his gaze growing distant.
“What do you mean?” Darcy asked, confused.
“I have cancer, Darcy, I was going to tell you tonight, in a much better way,” he said.
“You can’t be serious, how bad is it?” Darcy asked.
“The doctors say that in optimistic outlooks, I have another three years, but the most likely scenario is a year,” he said, voice breaking.
“No, no, you can’t…James…no…” Darcy said, tears welling, beginning to spill over. James reached up and brushed them away, his own eyes looked watery.
“I’m afraid so Darcy, which is why I have to ask something of you,” he said. His voice shook.
“Ask me,” he said.
“Do all the things we said we were going to do together. See the northern lights, climb a mountain, swim in the turquoise waters around Barbados, go to Spain, all of it. I want you to kick life in the balls as hard as you did Dan tonight, suck the marrow from it’s bones for both of us,” he said, the tears had begun falling from James’s dark eyes as he spoke.
“We still have time, we can do it together, the sky-diving, see a joust, as much as possible,” Darcy said.
“No, we can’t. I can’t, Darcy,” he whispered, his eyes spoke depths about his sadness.
After only six months James had been hospitalized. Darcy was there night and day. One day, he sat on James’s bed beside him. “Darcy, thank you for being my best friend,” James said, taking his hand in his. Darcy turned towards him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Thank you for helping me find myself, I couldn’t have done any of what I’ve accomplished without you, James,” he said, his breathing was shaky, a lump in his throat as he leaned his forehead against James’s forehead.
“I know, I want you to know, that I’ll be watching over you, your very own guardian angel. Heavens know you need one,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Remember, live your life to the fullest, for me, never give up on yourself,” he said. Darcy nodded his head, staring into James’s eyes as their tears continued to fall.
Not long after the heart monitor flatlined, Darcy sobbed as he kissed James’s forehead, resting his against it again as a sharp pain pierced his heart. Everything after James died had been a blur as nurses rushed in, he found himself eventually at his funeral, and then in his apartment, remembering all the times they had together.
“I won’t give up, I haven’t lived up to my promise yet,” Darcy told himself as he grabbed onto a tree, using it to pull himself up. He made a promise to James, he intended to keep it. Go to Peru, Egypt, China, Chile, travel the world and do everything he could in James’s memory.
Eventually Darcy reached the road, collapsing as headlights headed towards him. The world faded to black as someone crouched over him. “He’s alive!” She called to someone. “Call an ambulance! Hey, you, stay with me,” she said, resting a hand on his cheek. “I think he has a concussion…” she said. He found his eyes closing, he made it to the road, he was being helped. He could rest, he didn’t have to worry about letting James down.
When he came to again, red lights flashed as he was loaded into an ambulance. All he could think about was that last moment with James. Even in death, it seemed James still gave Darcy the strength he needed to keep pushing on.
He was going to do everything they talked about doing.
He was going to live for them both. For James.