07-10-2025, 04:30 PM
Destiny – Part 1
So now I have written a story, too. I can't claim that all the people and the plot are fictitious. However, I have tried to change everything beyond recognition without distorting the meaning of the story – yes, I think that's how you could put it. And now... enjoy reading! ????
Part 1
It was raining heavily. It was just after 5 p.m., but it was already dark. This was actually normal, because it was autumn – 11 November 2003. Nobody would voluntarily go outside in such weather, let alone stand on a busy street ‘just for the fun of it’ – but a group of perhaps 20 people did just that. What could there possibly be to see? A lorry was blocking one side of the road at the junction, but the people were looking more in the other direction. Two men were kneeling next to the pedestrian crossing and seemed to be quite busy. The leather jacket of one of the men shone in the rain and the cold must inevitably have crept through it. But the man didn't feel it... he was much too busy. You could see his face in the light of the slowly passing cars. Besides the raindrops, tears were running down his cheeks, but people didn't see that at that distance. Every now and then he sniffled and tried in vain to wipe his wet face on the even wetter collar of his leather jacket. The other man was kneeling about a metre away from him, apparently pumping something up. He was wearing a red jacket, and on his back you could see a large, reflective red cross on a white background, with the word ‘NOTARZT’ (emergency doctor) below it. Drivers honked their horns every now and then – probably just to vent their frustration at the closed side of the road, because it should be obvious to everyone that this wouldn't make them go any faster. There was an injured boy between the two men and people were gawking – there was no such thing as bad weather for gawkers!
Tommy's legs were already tingling and starting to go to sleep because he had been sitting in a crouch for so long. He held the injured boy in his arms, his head drawn up to his chest to protect him from the rain and keep him warm. The boy was half unconscious and only whimpered in pain from time to time. Then Tommy stroked his cheek and spoke soothingly to him. And then the boy was unconscious again. Tommy knew him by sight and just couldn't hold back his tears, because he knew what the boy normally looked like. He had often seen him riding around on his mountain bike in the area and had said hello to him from time to time. Now he was kneeling there, stroking the blood-covered head, which was scratched and very dirty on the left side. The blond hair was dishevelled and quite dark and sticky from blood and rain.
‘I don't believe this!’ he suddenly shouted, looking over at the group of onlookers, “Don't they have anything better to do than stare?” Tommy was 22 and had been a police officer for almost five years. He actually liked his job, but there were days (as there probably are in every job) when you would rather have stayed in bed. Today seemed to be one of those days again! Another police officer approached Tommy and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Let it go, Tommy! The command will be here soon and we'll be gone,’ he said reassuringly. The two police officers from the accident recording command, or ‘command’ for short, were already starting to put their measuring tapes and writing pads back into the dry station wagon. They had measured and photographed everything, taken an alcohol test from the truck driver and secured the tachograph disc from the tachograph. This driver had apparently followed all the rules for a change. So it could only have been the weather or the fact that he was in too much of a hurry. According to the witness, he had already turned red and still did so. In doing so, he had hit the boy and run over him with his trailer.
The emergency doctor had just fixed the vacuum splint to the leg and pumped the air out. He looked at Tommy. ‘So, now he's ready to be transported. Can you help us to carefully lift him onto the stretcher without moving his head or pulling out the infusions?’ “Sure,” said Tommy, and together with the doctor and the two paramedics, he gently lifted the boy onto the stretcher. They slowly rolled to the emergency ambulance and Tommy held up one of the two infusion bottles. ’Where are you taking him? Do you already know where there is space?’ “Yes, he's going to the hospital in Schwabing...” answered one of the paramedics while pushing the stretcher into the ambulance.
‘We're almost done and can clear the road again,’ said one of the police officers from the command. The truck driver was still sitting on the box with the grit, standing next to the pavement, crying. At least he's taking it to heart, thought Tommy. The replacement driver, who had been brought here by his boss so that he could continue driving the truck, was sitting next to the driver. The driver himself was in shock and could not and should not drive again today. Tommy went over to them. ‘We're almost done and you can drive off,’ he said calmly to them. ‘And what happens now?’ asked the driver in a shaky voice. ‘As it stands, you'll probably get a ticket and probably have to give up your driver's license for a while! You can be glad that you had a 0.0 blood alcohol level and that the driving time was OK. You'll survive it...’, Tommy paused briefly and then added quietly: ’...hopefully the boy too!’
Tommy went to pick up the boy's right shoe and shoulder bag from the road. There were yellow oil-based chalk markings where he picked up the things. The mountain bike had broken almost in half in the middle and Tommy had to carry it because it was a total write-off. He put the bike in the boot of the patrol car and the bag on the back seat. He took the shoe to the ambulance and put it on the side inside. ‘Here's his right shoe. Didn't you have his monthly ticket earlier?’ Tommy asked. One of the paramedics handed him the monthly ticket. ‘Yes, here it is. Florian Bachmeier, 17 years old. He lives at Moosacher Straße 13 – just around the corner,’ he said. ‘Thank you,’ Tommy said to him and went back to the patrol car, leaned in briefly and picked up the radio handset. ‘Operations Centre for 1/4,’ he said into the handset. After the control centre had answered, Tommy gave the report. ‘Lorry versus cyclist, lorry slightly, bike totally, cyclist seriously injured – with BRK stationary to Schwabinger Hospital. We will notify the parents afterwards, and the command centre has been notified.’
Meanwhile, Tommy's colleague had packed up the warning lamp and the warning triangle and sat down in the driver's seat. The truck had continued on its way and Tommy was about to get in. ‘STOP! Look at what you look like – over there... your stomach and your trousers are totally soaked,’ his colleague shouted at him from the driver's seat. ‘Man, Achim! And I thought someone was trying to stab me from behind! You can shout at me, can't you?!’ Tommy wiped himself off with a cloth. “So, now! I'm freezing cold and sick too,” he said irritably and got into the car.
They drove to the address that was on the monthly ticket. On the second floor on the right, where a family named Bachmeier lived according to the doorbell sign, a light was on – so someone was obviously at home. They rang the bell... ‘Yes, hello?’ came the creaky reply from the intercom. ‘Hello, this is the police – can we come up for a moment?’ asked Achim. ‘Yes, of course, but what is...’ At that moment, the door opener whirred and the rest was no longer audible. Tommy and Achim went up the stairs and in the half-opened door stood a woman in her mid-40s – presumably Florian's mother.
‘Hello, my name is Kleinschmied and this is my colleague Wagner,’ Achim introduced himself and Tommy. “Can we come in for a moment?” ’Yes, for heaven's sake, what's happened? Has Florian done something wrong? Come in...’, the mother said, sounding worried.
When they arrived in the living room, she turned around. “Where is he, anyway? Afraid to come in with you, are we? He's in for it...” “No, Mrs Bachmeier...” Tommy interrupted her, ’something bad has happened!’ Ms Bachmeier fell silent instantly and her eyes went wide. ‘What's happened to him?’ ‘Yes, well...’ said Achim, wanting to say something, but then looked over at Tommy for help. He understood the look and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘Florian was hit by a car. A lorry. According to the witness, the lorry wanted to turn when it had already gone through the red light. He didn't see your son, who was just about to cross the road.’ Mrs Bachmeier grew visibly paler. Achim took her by the arm and led her to the couch, where she slumped down and began to sob. “He came to the Schwabinger and is currently being examined there,” Tommy added. ‘And how bad is it?’ she asked, hoping to hear that Florian would be fine by the end of the week. “Well, according to the emergency doctor, he has a broken right thigh, bruises and abrasions, and probably a concussion. He'll probably have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days.” “When can I see him? Where exactly is he?” ’I'll give you the number of the Schwabing Hospital. It's best to call them later and ask for directions.’ Tommy pulled his “smart book” out of his wet jacket. “By the way, we also need Florian's full personal details – for the report against the truck driver. And the number of the Schwabing Hospital is 30 68 34 45.” ’Thank you, and what else do you need from him?’ ‘Date and place of birth, marital status and occupation. I think he's single and a student, right?’ “Yes, and he was born on 23 September 1986 in Munich.” “Doesn't Florian have an ID card because I didn't find one in his pocket?” Tommy asked. ’Yes, he does, but it's usually in his room so he won't lose it. And what did you mean by ‘report against the lorry driver’?’ “The colleagues from the accident and incident recording department are writing a report and for that we need all his details.” “I see. Yes, fine. I'll wait for my husband now. He should be home from work any minute.” She looked at the clock excitedly. It was now 6:30 p.m. Achim looked at his watch too, motioned for Tommy to leave and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘We'll quickly take the bike and his bag up to you, okay?’ ‘Yes, thank you, that's kind of you,’ she said, trying to smile, but obviously failing. Tommy smiled at her and nodded encouragingly. ‘He'll be fine!’
On leaving the flat, Tommy saw a dark room on his right. It must be Florian's. In the dark, he could just make out a cupboard, a bed and a table with a monitor on it. ‘Yes, that's his room,’ said Ms Bachmeier, switching on the light. The room was nicely furnished – small but cosy. There were no posters on the walls – just fantasy pictures and a cinema poster for Xmen. In one corner hung a 2 by 1 metre Rainbow Flag. Mrs Bachmeier reached over to the desk and held out Tommy Florian's ID. ‘Look, there he is!’ Achim rolled his eyes impatiently and said that he would go and get the things out of the car meanwhile. Tommy looked at the picture on Florian's ID and must have had a very dreamy expression on his face. ‘Yes, my son is also... gay.’ She looked at the small rainbow pin on the collar of Tommy's leather jacket. Tommy became a little embarrassed, although you really didn't see that often with him. ‘Aha...?’ he stammered, somewhat irritated. “I noticed it as soon as you came in – I've got an eye for it now,” she said with a slight grin. “That you noticed that right away? None of my colleagues actually know! We're supposed to be tolerant of others, but you don't have a good time in your own ranks when you come out!” ’Then it's not easy for you, is it? What did you do to your trousers?’ She pointed at Tommy's trousers with her eyes. He looked down at his blood-smeared thighs. Only now in the light did it really stand out. “I helped the emergency doctor earlier...” he said just as Achim came crashing through the door with his bike and bag. He looked at Tommy, expecting him to finally go and get a coffee. Achim also went straight back towards the apartment door, with Tommy following him slowly. ‘We have to go then, Mrs Bachmeier – here is my business card in case you have any questions. And best wishes to Florian and get well soon!’ ‘I'll be happy to pass that on, Mr Wagner! Have a good shift!’
‘Say, did you guys drink Brüderschaft when I was at the car?’ grinned Achim as they walked down the stairs. “Well, we almost did,” joked Tommy. “That would be a mother-in-law to your taste, eh?” said Achim, laughing. ’What was that?’ Tommy couldn't believe his ears. ‘It's okay, Tommy... I won't tell anyone, don't worry!’ Achim turned around and looked at Tommy. ‘I know,’ he said, pointing to the small badge on Tommy's collar, ‘what it means! And besides, I've known you for a few days now.’ “Oh, well... Yes then... Um... Are we going to get a coffee or what?” Tommy tried to change the subject gracefully. “Yeah, sure, come on... let's go to the station!” The little diversionary manoeuvre seemed to have worked. But Achim was not so easily distracted. ’If you ever want to talk...’ Then he got in and started the engine. Tommy got in too and they drove to the station. He and Achim had been on patrol together for about two years – at least most of the time. So they knew each other quite well and it was actually clear that Achim would have to notice something sooner or later. Also because Tommy (logically) never said anything about ‘a girlfriend’. Somehow Tommy was relieved because he no longer had to pretend or dissemble with Achim. They already got along great, which was probably also because they were about the same age. Achim was only just over two years older.
The late shift was over by 8 p.m., and Tommy was looking forward to a hot shower. Already on the way home, he couldn't stop thinking about Florian. At night, he dreamt of terrible accidents and disfigured, blood-soaked corpses, and kept seeing Florian's dirty and blood-smeared face in front of him. Did that affect him so much? Nothing like that had happened to him before, although he had seen worse accidents. Outside, it was pitch dark and still raining when the alarm clock released him from his nightmares. He woke up and was sweating. 5:00 a.m. and in an hour he had to start work. He made himself a cappuccino and then drove off.
When he arrived at work, he found a note in his pigeonhole.
‘Good morning Tommy! Please call Ms Bachmeier. You have the number, don't you? It's about the accident last night. Best regards and have a good shift – Schatti.’
What was it now? She probably wanted to ask something about the report or something. Since Tommy couldn't call her at just after six, he went on patrol with Achim first and of course told him about the call. ‘She'll probably want to know if she needs to get a lawyer or something,’ he said. ‘Yeah, probably. Achim, we can just drop by to see her later, can't we?’ ’Yeah, sure, if there's nothing going on.’
It was quiet that Wednesday morning, so they just went to see Ms Bachmeier at half past eight. They rang the doorbell and, without her saying anything over the intercom, the door opener whirred. They went up.
‘Good morning, Ms Bachmeier,’ Tommy and Achim said almost simultaneously. “Good morning, Mr Wagner and Mr...” “Kleinschmied,” Achim added. “Oh yes, sorry, Mr Kleinschmied!” “That's all right,” Achim said, grinning. “Come in – would you like a coffee?” Ms Bachmeier asked with a smile. Achim and Tommy looked at each other and nodded – it was quiet and they had their radio with them so they could be reached. ‘Thanks, we'd love some,’ Tommy said. ‘Did Mr Schattner tell you that I called?’ ‘Yes, he did. Do you have any questions or is there any news about Florian? How is he?’ Tommy asked, visibly tense. Ms Bachmeier handed them both a cup and pointed to the table where the milk and sugar were. ‘Please help yourselves.’ ‘So, Florian had internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen. He had emergency surgery last night.’ Tommy suddenly felt sick, but it was definitely not the coffee. She could see that Tommy was struggling and added that at least Florian was no longer in critical condition. Tommy took a big gulp and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Are you in love, Tommy?’ Achim asked. ‘You're more worried than his mother!’ Mrs Bachmeier looked at Achim in disbelief. She was still under the impression that none of the colleagues knew. Tommy explained to her that their colleague Kleinschmied had probably known for some time, which drew a grin across the faces of those present. ‘Can we visit him?’ ‘Not today, he's still in intensive care.’ She turned away from them, probably to hide her tears. ‘Did the doctors say anything else?’ Tommy wanted to know anyway. ‘A rib is also broken. Otherwise, only what they already told me yesterday. By the way, I should also give them my best regards and say thank you.’ ‘Thank you? What for?’ “You must have held him in your arms and not just left him lying on the wet street.” “Isn't that obvious?” “If you're a good person, yes, Mr Wagner.” Achim felt like he was at a tennis match, always looking back and forth between the two. He was about to ask if he was disturbing them and should rather go for a walk when the radio crackled. ‘Car 1/4 – we have a shoplifter in Wal Mart – being held.’ “Got it,” Achim replied briefly and looked at Ms Bachmeier. “Unfortunately, we have to go. Have a nice day and thanks again for the coffee!” Tommy put down his cup and followed Achim. “Yes, thanks and best regards again!” ’You're welcome! Goodbye, gentlemen.’
Tommy was a lost soul for the rest of the morning. He was constantly lost in thought and Achim went to the station after this callout, as they still had a lot of paperwork to do anyway. At 1 p.m., the shift was over and they had the rest of the day off. Tommy went home, although he almost wanted to go to the hospital. But when the mother said that they weren't allowed to visit him yet today... The night shift dragged on like chewing gum, but at least it had finally stopped raining. Instead, it had now become freezing cold. In the morning, Tommy was totally exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. When he woke up, it was already 2:00 p.m. – quite a normal time after the night shift. Now he had no idea which room Florian was in. Anyway, he would find out somehow. He just had to know how he was doing! He made himself something to eat and drove to the hospital in Schwabing. He figured that they wouldn't give him any information there as a stranger, so he showed his ID and said that he needed a few more details about the accident. The nurse looked at him a bit strangely, but he got the information that Florian was on the second floor in room 206. Tommy wondered again whether he should really do this, but then decided to go up. He knocked on the door of room 206.
‘Come in,’ sounded muffled and quiet through the door. Tommy went in. A three-bed room and only one was occupied – by Florian. “Hello, I was in the accident the day before yesterday and just wanted to know how you are doing.” “Are you Mr Wagner – the cop?” The voice sounded weak but somehow sweet. Tommy went closer and grinned. ‘Yes, that's right, I'm the cop and my name is Tommy.’ You could see that it must have hurt Florian a lot, but he couldn't help smiling. But the pain was probably stronger then and he grimaced and narrowed his eyes. ‘Sorry, if I had known... I won't make any more jokes, okay?’ ‘It's okay,’ Florian replied painfully. “And how are you doing? Not so well, I'm guessing?” “Well, I've felt better. Since when do cops make hospital visits?” “I'm here more privately,” Tommy justified himself. Florian was hooked up to countless tubes, was as pale as death, and the scratches on his face were only now really visible. In any case, you could feel sorry for him. Florian saw that Tommy's eyes wandered over all the infusions, accesses, drainages and the other equipment and he seemed to wonder what all this was for. ‘Oh, it's not that bad! Tequila is in here and the brown bottle over there has nicotine dissolved in alcohol!’ He grinned broadly at Tommy. Even if he felt so bad, he still had a sense of humour and his smile was simply enchanting. ‘I still wouldn't want to swap with you – I'd rather go to my Irish pub and smoke a real fag with my Guinness,’ said Tommy. ‘Take me with you, please!’ ‘I'd take you with me, but get well first! What exactly is wrong with you?’ Tommy knew the answer to that, but he just wanted to hear Florian's voice for as long as possible. ’Well... I've got a broken thigh, bruises all down my left side and a slight concussion. On top of that, I've got a ruptured spleen and a broken rib. It'll probably take a while before I'm fit again.’ Florian looked quite sad. But he had to accept it. ‘Oh, you poor thing! And do you already know how long you'll have to stay in here?’ ‘Until the end of next week – for observation and stuff, they say.’ ‘Hopefully you don't get a cold on top of everything – it was pissing rain the day before yesterday! Just imagine if you had to cough or sneeze with that rib there!’ “Great! But you were holding me, so nothing could have happened to me!” “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” “Yeah, sure! I remember it very clearly... How you wanted to calm me down and all that...” he said with a grin. “And all that...?”, Tommy followed up. ‘Well, you stroked my cheek too – yes, I noticed that too!’ “Well, you should have noticed that too – otherwise I could have left it alone. Besides, I could think of nicer occasions to hug you than when you're injured in an accident!” ’Really? Anyway, I'm really happy that you came to visit me! What my mother said about you must be true, right?’ “Yes, what did she say?” Florian looked a bit down and hoped that Tommy would figure out what he meant. Of course Tommy already knew exactly what he had meant. “That I'm gay too? Is that what you mean?” Florian just looked at him and smiled contentedly, as if he had just been given an injection of morphine. ‘Are you coming to visit me again or did you just want to know how I am today?’ “I had a really bad dream last night after the accident and kept seeing your face. I just had to see you and know that you're okay. Do you want me to come and see you again?” ’Of course! If you want? My mother said that only one of your colleagues knows. I hope you won't get into trouble if you visit me!’ “Well, I don't see any problems there. Even if colleagues find out... I should still be able to visit someone in hospital, shouldn't I?” “So you'll come back tomorrow, yes?” “Of course I will,” said Tommy, and at that moment there was a knock at the door and without waiting a moment, a nurse came in. ‘You'll have to leave for a moment, please, he has to get his thrombosis injection.’ “He can stay here because of me,” Florian snapped at the nurse. The nurse wasn't quite sure whether that was meant seriously or jokingly – you could see the cogs in her head rotating and Tommy just couldn't help but smirk. Of course, she grinned back at him, but Florian tried desperately to remain serious. The nurse put on a bored and annoyed face, pushed the blanket aside and pulled his T-shirt up a little so that the stomach was free for the injection. On one side, his body was all yellow, green and red from the bruises. From the belly button upwards, he had a bandage – probably because of the broken rib or the operation on his spleen. The nurse gave him the injection, pulled his T-shirt back into place and covered him up again. ‘Please no more so long. He needs rest,’ she said to Tommy as she was leaving. ‘It's okay,’ Florian and Tommy said in unison. They looked at each other and grinned. ‘You're really nice for a cop…’ Florian started, when there was another knock at the door. He raised his eyebrows. “Come in,” he said annoyed. The door opened and his mother came in. “Hello,” she said and stopped short when she saw Tommy. A strange smile crossed her face. ’Hello, Mr Wagner. What are you doing here?’ Before Tommy could think of what he should say, Florian spoke up. ‘He wanted to see how I am doing! Isn't that nice?’ ‘Of course, it's purely business, of course,’ she added and smiled at Tommy; the kind of smile you give to someone when you know they're lying. Tommy felt like an open book at the moment. He would have liked to have had a big panic buzzer like on a game show: floor up – Tommy in – floor down. She walked up to Tommy and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. ‘It's really sweet of you to come and visit him!’ ‘Well, it's not really work-related! I just wanted to see how he was doing!’ ‘I know, but... Are you off today?’ ‘Yes, I had the early and night shift yesterday and don't have to start until noon the day after tomorrow.’ “Yes, and he's coming to visit me again tomorrow!” Florian beamed briefly before his face was distorted by pain again. His mother turned to Tommy. “Tell me, you two... Am I missing something?” Tommy wasn't quite sure either, so he looked at Florian and waited for him to say something. Florian didn't know exactly what to say either. But there was only one thing he could do. ‘Nah – you didn't miss anything! He just wants to visit me, mum!’ He looked over at Tommy and you could tell from his expression that he would have liked to have said something different. To go to such lengths for just one visit was really not like Tommy. Even though he was a very talkative police officer and always had a clever thing to say for every occasion in his circle of friends, he was rather shy and reserved in these matters. ‘What's not, can still be,’ said Mrs Bachmeier suddenly, and received a look from Florian that should have killed her on the spot. ‘Mum!!!’ Tommy was now a little too embarrassed and since he would be coming back tomorrow anyway, he wanted to withdraw. ‘I'll go then and see you tomorrow! Bye Mrs Bachmeier!’ ‘I'm looking forward to it, Tommy!’ ‘Goodbye and have a nice weekend Mr Wagner,’ said Mrs Bachmeier. How he would have liked to give Florian another kiss, but he didn't dare to, of course
, so he walked wordlessly to the door and was gone.
‘Mom, what was that all about?’ Florian immediately snapped at his mother. ’Why? What? I thought you liked each other! Is it so far-fetched that...?’ “Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't come to visit me tomorrow. And just because you can't keep your comments to yourself!” Florian looked really angry and deeply unhappy at the same time, and his mother was amazed because she had never seen her son like this before. ’Tell me, Flori... Have you maybe got a crush on Mr Wagner? Is that possible? What?’ she teased. “I don't know. He's somehow different. Not so cheeky, not one to just hang around being lazy, he's nice too... and he's not bad looking, is he?” ’Well, I thought he was quite nice the night before last when he was with his colleague at my place. He's definitely not like Patrick. He was the last thing!’ “No, he's definitely not like that! Tell me, how old do you think he is? In his early 20s? What do you think?” “Yeah, I think that's about right. Just ask him tomorrow.” ’I don't really care about age, unless it's decades. The main thing is that he's sweet, nice, well – you know what I mean.‘ “Yes, I see. And you can also assume that he won't start something with someone else every day, like Patrick.” “Yes, I think so too.” “So you have my ”blessing’. Not that I want to take it away from you, but I also think he's very nice. Well, I have to go again. May I come by again tomorrow?’ “Do whatever you want!” Florian joked and when he saw his mother's face fall to the floor, he realised that this joke had probably not been received. “Sure, Mom, of course!” ’Well, tomorrow then, and get well soon!’
Tommy was at home and was thinking of Florian again. He just couldn't get him out of his head. He would have liked to go to him again right away, but he didn't want to be too intrusive. He didn't know that Florian had also taken an interest in him. And Florian had no idea that Tommy wanted nothing more than to simply hold him in his arms. So they both languished and longed for the next afternoon. Tommy couldn't sleep much better than Florian. Only that it wasn't the pain that kept him awake. The next morning, both of them got through the time only slowly and with difficulty, until Tommy couldn't stand it anymore and got into the car.
When visiting his mother, Tommy had seen a pack of red Gauloises in Florian's room – so Florian probably smoked too. Tommy stopped at a kiosk and bought a pack and a lighter. On the lighter was written (how could it be otherwise?) ‘I love you!’ At the hospital, he couldn't wait to go upstairs. There it was! Room 206 – behind this door lay his sweetheart. Oh well, they weren't together after all. This realisation caused Tommy to become quite sobered and he stood there, paralysed, lost in thought. Then the door opened and Florian stood there with crutches, wearing jogging bottoms and a T-shirt. ‘Hey, you're already here! Cool! Come in!’ ‘Hello little one! And you're allowed to get up again, are you? Where did you want to go again?’ ’Well, the doctor was here earlier and allowed me to smoke again, as long as I don't overdo it. And since I don't have any fags here, I was just about to go to the kiosk downstairs in the hall.’ Well, that was convenient... Tommy held out the packet of fags with the lighter. ‘You can save yourself the trip.’ ‘How did you know?’ ‘Ooooh, there's something written on the lighter! Um... is that right?’ ‘Of course it's right!’ Without thinking twice, Florian gave him a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu I love you too! You're really sweet, you know that, Tommy?’ “You're sweet too,” said Tommy, hugging Florian. “Ow... ow... ow... ow...” came from Florian. Tommy immediately let him go. All the wounds probably hurt quite a bit when hugging. ’It's okay, better than yesterday, but it still hurts. The bruises hurt like hell – even more than yesterday,’ Florian said before Tommy could say or ask anything. Tommy now summoned up all his courage. “Hey Florian? Don't you have a boyfriend?” “Not anymore, and you?” “Unfortunately not either!” “But I think I almost have a new one,” Florian added. ’Oh? Well, come on... let's go and have a smoke!’ Tommy was visibly disappointed. Had he understood that right? Florian already had something new in prospect? Florian realised that Tommy was thinking in the wrong direction and helped a little. “But my future boyfriend probably doesn't like me, what do you think?” ’Why are you asking me that? You have to ask him yourself,’ Tommy grumbled somewhat petulantly. “But that's what I just did... at least I hope so!” Now Tommy had understood it correctly. Florian was a funny little fellow, to lead him up the garden path like that! He turned around, looked into Florian's dark eyes and simply couldn't say anything. He couldn't even get one of his famous ripostes out. He just wanted to take this dear person in his arms and never let go. Tommy took him in his arms very gently so as not to hurt him. ‘I can't stand it without you anymore, little one!’ Tears rolled down Tommy's cheeks. Florian's thick tears now also rolled down his cheeks. ‘I can't stand it without you either, big guy!’
The worst possible moment for it... There was a knock at the door and the nurse was standing in the room. She saw the two of them lying in each other's arms, more or less crying, and now everything was clear to her. She almost didn't dare say anything. ‘Sorry, I'll be back in five minutes with the injection.’ When she walked backwards out of the room, she almost fainted. Florian and Tommy had to laugh. When the door closed again, Florian took Tommy's head in his hands and gave him a tentative kiss on the mouth. Yes, they had both wanted that so much, even though they had only known each other for a few hours. Couldn't this moment last forever? They were enjoying the moment when there was already another knock at the door. It had never been five minutes! But it wasn't the expected nurse, but Florian's mother, who came in looking quite puzzled. ‘So!’ Florian and Tommy just grinned at her. What else could they have said? ‘Well, I'm really happy for you! Can I still stay?’ she joked. ‘Nah...’, Florian said dryly, ‘...because I really need a smoke now!’ ‘Was I that good, darling?’ Tommy asked, trying to sound as serious as possible. But everyone burst out laughing. Florian hobbled to the door with his crutches and there was another knock. The nurse came in. OK, so the five minutes were up. “Well, we have to go now, even if it's inconvenient,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. Florian lay down on the bed and pulled up his T-shirt so that she could finish faster. The nurse gave him the injection rather hastily and seemed to have hit a nerve this time, or at least only just missed it. Besides, these thrombosis injections burn like hell anyway. Florian pursed his lips. The nurse just left him like that today and went out of the room again. Florian still lay there and you could see that it had really hurt today, because a tear rolled down his right cheek. Tommy went to him, put his hand on the spot where the nurse had given the injection and gave him a kiss on the right eye from which the tear had come. ‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ ‘You're really sweet! I love you so much!’ “You make a beautiful couple!” the mother said enviously. Florian sat up, stood up and limped with his crutches towards the door. “So, if I don't get my fag now, I'm gonna get pissed!” His mother held her arm in front of him, so he had to stop and stared at her in amazement. Did she realise that this meant war? But before he had taken the necessary breath to rant, she pulled a packet of red Gauloises out of her coat pocket and held it out to him. ‘I brought you these. Are you allowed to smoke again?’ ‘Yes, thanks, mum. The doctor said I could, as long as I don't smoke more than five a day.’ ‘Well then... What are you still standing around here for, Flori?’
After a fleeting thank-you kiss, everyone trotted out of the room. This time nothing came up and they went towards the cafeteria. In the hallway, many people came towards them, some of them were sick people with a so-called gallows next to them, on which infusions hung. Fortunately, Florian didn't need any more and the crutches only hindered him a little. When people were around, he would say loudly that his stupid catheter was full again and enjoyed the indignant reactions of the people around him. He was a real joker. No wonder – as happy as he was at the moment! Despite his injuries. Then they sat down in the cafeteria.
‘So, first of all... I'm Heidi now,’ Frau Bachmeier said to Tommy. “And I'm Tommy,” he replied. She told Tommy that she worked at the gate at Munich Airport and also worked shifts. However, she didn't have any night shifts, just an early, midday and late shift. Florian said that after his tenth year at school, he wanted to be an IT technician or something similar. Tommy had also thought about changing to the computer industry, because he liked it even more than police work. They talked until it was dark outside. They went back to the room and Heidi said goodbye to Tommy and Florian.
‘You know that I can't visit you tomorrow because I'm on duty?’ ’Yes, I got it – too bad! I don't know if I can stand it, darling – really! I think I've got a real crush on you!’ Florian blushed quite a bit, but something in him just forced him to tell Tommy. “I don't feel any different, darling. I'll see that I come by after work – so around half past eight or so.” ’So late? By then I'll have died of longing twice already!’ Tommy took Florian in his arms and a long goodbye kiss followed. Then Tommy went home. It was a restless night because Tommy would have liked to have had his sweetheart in his arms as he fell asleep. At the same time in room 206 of the Schwabing Hospital... pretty much the same thing was going on there. Florian just couldn't get to sleep, longing for a hug from his new sweetheart. But eventually they both fell asleep, each of them thinking they were holding the other in their arms...
Oh yes... one more legal notice:
In this story, some of the characters do not act in accordance with the law.
This circumstance is necessary for the presentation of the story and serves ONLY this purpose!
So now I have written a story, too. I can't claim that all the people and the plot are fictitious. However, I have tried to change everything beyond recognition without distorting the meaning of the story – yes, I think that's how you could put it. And now... enjoy reading! ????
Part 1
It was raining heavily. It was just after 5 p.m., but it was already dark. This was actually normal, because it was autumn – 11 November 2003. Nobody would voluntarily go outside in such weather, let alone stand on a busy street ‘just for the fun of it’ – but a group of perhaps 20 people did just that. What could there possibly be to see? A lorry was blocking one side of the road at the junction, but the people were looking more in the other direction. Two men were kneeling next to the pedestrian crossing and seemed to be quite busy. The leather jacket of one of the men shone in the rain and the cold must inevitably have crept through it. But the man didn't feel it... he was much too busy. You could see his face in the light of the slowly passing cars. Besides the raindrops, tears were running down his cheeks, but people didn't see that at that distance. Every now and then he sniffled and tried in vain to wipe his wet face on the even wetter collar of his leather jacket. The other man was kneeling about a metre away from him, apparently pumping something up. He was wearing a red jacket, and on his back you could see a large, reflective red cross on a white background, with the word ‘NOTARZT’ (emergency doctor) below it. Drivers honked their horns every now and then – probably just to vent their frustration at the closed side of the road, because it should be obvious to everyone that this wouldn't make them go any faster. There was an injured boy between the two men and people were gawking – there was no such thing as bad weather for gawkers!
Tommy's legs were already tingling and starting to go to sleep because he had been sitting in a crouch for so long. He held the injured boy in his arms, his head drawn up to his chest to protect him from the rain and keep him warm. The boy was half unconscious and only whimpered in pain from time to time. Then Tommy stroked his cheek and spoke soothingly to him. And then the boy was unconscious again. Tommy knew him by sight and just couldn't hold back his tears, because he knew what the boy normally looked like. He had often seen him riding around on his mountain bike in the area and had said hello to him from time to time. Now he was kneeling there, stroking the blood-covered head, which was scratched and very dirty on the left side. The blond hair was dishevelled and quite dark and sticky from blood and rain.
‘I don't believe this!’ he suddenly shouted, looking over at the group of onlookers, “Don't they have anything better to do than stare?” Tommy was 22 and had been a police officer for almost five years. He actually liked his job, but there were days (as there probably are in every job) when you would rather have stayed in bed. Today seemed to be one of those days again! Another police officer approached Tommy and put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Let it go, Tommy! The command will be here soon and we'll be gone,’ he said reassuringly. The two police officers from the accident recording command, or ‘command’ for short, were already starting to put their measuring tapes and writing pads back into the dry station wagon. They had measured and photographed everything, taken an alcohol test from the truck driver and secured the tachograph disc from the tachograph. This driver had apparently followed all the rules for a change. So it could only have been the weather or the fact that he was in too much of a hurry. According to the witness, he had already turned red and still did so. In doing so, he had hit the boy and run over him with his trailer.
The emergency doctor had just fixed the vacuum splint to the leg and pumped the air out. He looked at Tommy. ‘So, now he's ready to be transported. Can you help us to carefully lift him onto the stretcher without moving his head or pulling out the infusions?’ “Sure,” said Tommy, and together with the doctor and the two paramedics, he gently lifted the boy onto the stretcher. They slowly rolled to the emergency ambulance and Tommy held up one of the two infusion bottles. ’Where are you taking him? Do you already know where there is space?’ “Yes, he's going to the hospital in Schwabing...” answered one of the paramedics while pushing the stretcher into the ambulance.
‘We're almost done and can clear the road again,’ said one of the police officers from the command. The truck driver was still sitting on the box with the grit, standing next to the pavement, crying. At least he's taking it to heart, thought Tommy. The replacement driver, who had been brought here by his boss so that he could continue driving the truck, was sitting next to the driver. The driver himself was in shock and could not and should not drive again today. Tommy went over to them. ‘We're almost done and you can drive off,’ he said calmly to them. ‘And what happens now?’ asked the driver in a shaky voice. ‘As it stands, you'll probably get a ticket and probably have to give up your driver's license for a while! You can be glad that you had a 0.0 blood alcohol level and that the driving time was OK. You'll survive it...’, Tommy paused briefly and then added quietly: ’...hopefully the boy too!’
Tommy went to pick up the boy's right shoe and shoulder bag from the road. There were yellow oil-based chalk markings where he picked up the things. The mountain bike had broken almost in half in the middle and Tommy had to carry it because it was a total write-off. He put the bike in the boot of the patrol car and the bag on the back seat. He took the shoe to the ambulance and put it on the side inside. ‘Here's his right shoe. Didn't you have his monthly ticket earlier?’ Tommy asked. One of the paramedics handed him the monthly ticket. ‘Yes, here it is. Florian Bachmeier, 17 years old. He lives at Moosacher Straße 13 – just around the corner,’ he said. ‘Thank you,’ Tommy said to him and went back to the patrol car, leaned in briefly and picked up the radio handset. ‘Operations Centre for 1/4,’ he said into the handset. After the control centre had answered, Tommy gave the report. ‘Lorry versus cyclist, lorry slightly, bike totally, cyclist seriously injured – with BRK stationary to Schwabinger Hospital. We will notify the parents afterwards, and the command centre has been notified.’
Meanwhile, Tommy's colleague had packed up the warning lamp and the warning triangle and sat down in the driver's seat. The truck had continued on its way and Tommy was about to get in. ‘STOP! Look at what you look like – over there... your stomach and your trousers are totally soaked,’ his colleague shouted at him from the driver's seat. ‘Man, Achim! And I thought someone was trying to stab me from behind! You can shout at me, can't you?!’ Tommy wiped himself off with a cloth. “So, now! I'm freezing cold and sick too,” he said irritably and got into the car.
They drove to the address that was on the monthly ticket. On the second floor on the right, where a family named Bachmeier lived according to the doorbell sign, a light was on – so someone was obviously at home. They rang the bell... ‘Yes, hello?’ came the creaky reply from the intercom. ‘Hello, this is the police – can we come up for a moment?’ asked Achim. ‘Yes, of course, but what is...’ At that moment, the door opener whirred and the rest was no longer audible. Tommy and Achim went up the stairs and in the half-opened door stood a woman in her mid-40s – presumably Florian's mother.
‘Hello, my name is Kleinschmied and this is my colleague Wagner,’ Achim introduced himself and Tommy. “Can we come in for a moment?” ’Yes, for heaven's sake, what's happened? Has Florian done something wrong? Come in...’, the mother said, sounding worried.
When they arrived in the living room, she turned around. “Where is he, anyway? Afraid to come in with you, are we? He's in for it...” “No, Mrs Bachmeier...” Tommy interrupted her, ’something bad has happened!’ Ms Bachmeier fell silent instantly and her eyes went wide. ‘What's happened to him?’ ‘Yes, well...’ said Achim, wanting to say something, but then looked over at Tommy for help. He understood the look and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘Florian was hit by a car. A lorry. According to the witness, the lorry wanted to turn when it had already gone through the red light. He didn't see your son, who was just about to cross the road.’ Mrs Bachmeier grew visibly paler. Achim took her by the arm and led her to the couch, where she slumped down and began to sob. “He came to the Schwabinger and is currently being examined there,” Tommy added. ‘And how bad is it?’ she asked, hoping to hear that Florian would be fine by the end of the week. “Well, according to the emergency doctor, he has a broken right thigh, bruises and abrasions, and probably a concussion. He'll probably have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days.” “When can I see him? Where exactly is he?” ’I'll give you the number of the Schwabing Hospital. It's best to call them later and ask for directions.’ Tommy pulled his “smart book” out of his wet jacket. “By the way, we also need Florian's full personal details – for the report against the truck driver. And the number of the Schwabing Hospital is 30 68 34 45.” ’Thank you, and what else do you need from him?’ ‘Date and place of birth, marital status and occupation. I think he's single and a student, right?’ “Yes, and he was born on 23 September 1986 in Munich.” “Doesn't Florian have an ID card because I didn't find one in his pocket?” Tommy asked. ’Yes, he does, but it's usually in his room so he won't lose it. And what did you mean by ‘report against the lorry driver’?’ “The colleagues from the accident and incident recording department are writing a report and for that we need all his details.” “I see. Yes, fine. I'll wait for my husband now. He should be home from work any minute.” She looked at the clock excitedly. It was now 6:30 p.m. Achim looked at his watch too, motioned for Tommy to leave and turned to Ms Bachmeier. ‘We'll quickly take the bike and his bag up to you, okay?’ ‘Yes, thank you, that's kind of you,’ she said, trying to smile, but obviously failing. Tommy smiled at her and nodded encouragingly. ‘He'll be fine!’
On leaving the flat, Tommy saw a dark room on his right. It must be Florian's. In the dark, he could just make out a cupboard, a bed and a table with a monitor on it. ‘Yes, that's his room,’ said Ms Bachmeier, switching on the light. The room was nicely furnished – small but cosy. There were no posters on the walls – just fantasy pictures and a cinema poster for Xmen. In one corner hung a 2 by 1 metre Rainbow Flag. Mrs Bachmeier reached over to the desk and held out Tommy Florian's ID. ‘Look, there he is!’ Achim rolled his eyes impatiently and said that he would go and get the things out of the car meanwhile. Tommy looked at the picture on Florian's ID and must have had a very dreamy expression on his face. ‘Yes, my son is also... gay.’ She looked at the small rainbow pin on the collar of Tommy's leather jacket. Tommy became a little embarrassed, although you really didn't see that often with him. ‘Aha...?’ he stammered, somewhat irritated. “I noticed it as soon as you came in – I've got an eye for it now,” she said with a slight grin. “That you noticed that right away? None of my colleagues actually know! We're supposed to be tolerant of others, but you don't have a good time in your own ranks when you come out!” ’Then it's not easy for you, is it? What did you do to your trousers?’ She pointed at Tommy's trousers with her eyes. He looked down at his blood-smeared thighs. Only now in the light did it really stand out. “I helped the emergency doctor earlier...” he said just as Achim came crashing through the door with his bike and bag. He looked at Tommy, expecting him to finally go and get a coffee. Achim also went straight back towards the apartment door, with Tommy following him slowly. ‘We have to go then, Mrs Bachmeier – here is my business card in case you have any questions. And best wishes to Florian and get well soon!’ ‘I'll be happy to pass that on, Mr Wagner! Have a good shift!’
‘Say, did you guys drink Brüderschaft when I was at the car?’ grinned Achim as they walked down the stairs. “Well, we almost did,” joked Tommy. “That would be a mother-in-law to your taste, eh?” said Achim, laughing. ’What was that?’ Tommy couldn't believe his ears. ‘It's okay, Tommy... I won't tell anyone, don't worry!’ Achim turned around and looked at Tommy. ‘I know,’ he said, pointing to the small badge on Tommy's collar, ‘what it means! And besides, I've known you for a few days now.’ “Oh, well... Yes then... Um... Are we going to get a coffee or what?” Tommy tried to change the subject gracefully. “Yeah, sure, come on... let's go to the station!” The little diversionary manoeuvre seemed to have worked. But Achim was not so easily distracted. ’If you ever want to talk...’ Then he got in and started the engine. Tommy got in too and they drove to the station. He and Achim had been on patrol together for about two years – at least most of the time. So they knew each other quite well and it was actually clear that Achim would have to notice something sooner or later. Also because Tommy (logically) never said anything about ‘a girlfriend’. Somehow Tommy was relieved because he no longer had to pretend or dissemble with Achim. They already got along great, which was probably also because they were about the same age. Achim was only just over two years older.
The late shift was over by 8 p.m., and Tommy was looking forward to a hot shower. Already on the way home, he couldn't stop thinking about Florian. At night, he dreamt of terrible accidents and disfigured, blood-soaked corpses, and kept seeing Florian's dirty and blood-smeared face in front of him. Did that affect him so much? Nothing like that had happened to him before, although he had seen worse accidents. Outside, it was pitch dark and still raining when the alarm clock released him from his nightmares. He woke up and was sweating. 5:00 a.m. and in an hour he had to start work. He made himself a cappuccino and then drove off.
When he arrived at work, he found a note in his pigeonhole.
‘Good morning Tommy! Please call Ms Bachmeier. You have the number, don't you? It's about the accident last night. Best regards and have a good shift – Schatti.’
What was it now? She probably wanted to ask something about the report or something. Since Tommy couldn't call her at just after six, he went on patrol with Achim first and of course told him about the call. ‘She'll probably want to know if she needs to get a lawyer or something,’ he said. ‘Yeah, probably. Achim, we can just drop by to see her later, can't we?’ ’Yeah, sure, if there's nothing going on.’
It was quiet that Wednesday morning, so they just went to see Ms Bachmeier at half past eight. They rang the doorbell and, without her saying anything over the intercom, the door opener whirred. They went up.
‘Good morning, Ms Bachmeier,’ Tommy and Achim said almost simultaneously. “Good morning, Mr Wagner and Mr...” “Kleinschmied,” Achim added. “Oh yes, sorry, Mr Kleinschmied!” “That's all right,” Achim said, grinning. “Come in – would you like a coffee?” Ms Bachmeier asked with a smile. Achim and Tommy looked at each other and nodded – it was quiet and they had their radio with them so they could be reached. ‘Thanks, we'd love some,’ Tommy said. ‘Did Mr Schattner tell you that I called?’ ‘Yes, he did. Do you have any questions or is there any news about Florian? How is he?’ Tommy asked, visibly tense. Ms Bachmeier handed them both a cup and pointed to the table where the milk and sugar were. ‘Please help yourselves.’ ‘So, Florian had internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen. He had emergency surgery last night.’ Tommy suddenly felt sick, but it was definitely not the coffee. She could see that Tommy was struggling and added that at least Florian was no longer in critical condition. Tommy took a big gulp and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Are you in love, Tommy?’ Achim asked. ‘You're more worried than his mother!’ Mrs Bachmeier looked at Achim in disbelief. She was still under the impression that none of the colleagues knew. Tommy explained to her that their colleague Kleinschmied had probably known for some time, which drew a grin across the faces of those present. ‘Can we visit him?’ ‘Not today, he's still in intensive care.’ She turned away from them, probably to hide her tears. ‘Did the doctors say anything else?’ Tommy wanted to know anyway. ‘A rib is also broken. Otherwise, only what they already told me yesterday. By the way, I should also give them my best regards and say thank you.’ ‘Thank you? What for?’ “You must have held him in your arms and not just left him lying on the wet street.” “Isn't that obvious?” “If you're a good person, yes, Mr Wagner.” Achim felt like he was at a tennis match, always looking back and forth between the two. He was about to ask if he was disturbing them and should rather go for a walk when the radio crackled. ‘Car 1/4 – we have a shoplifter in Wal Mart – being held.’ “Got it,” Achim replied briefly and looked at Ms Bachmeier. “Unfortunately, we have to go. Have a nice day and thanks again for the coffee!” Tommy put down his cup and followed Achim. “Yes, thanks and best regards again!” ’You're welcome! Goodbye, gentlemen.’
Tommy was a lost soul for the rest of the morning. He was constantly lost in thought and Achim went to the station after this callout, as they still had a lot of paperwork to do anyway. At 1 p.m., the shift was over and they had the rest of the day off. Tommy went home, although he almost wanted to go to the hospital. But when the mother said that they weren't allowed to visit him yet today... The night shift dragged on like chewing gum, but at least it had finally stopped raining. Instead, it had now become freezing cold. In the morning, Tommy was totally exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. When he woke up, it was already 2:00 p.m. – quite a normal time after the night shift. Now he had no idea which room Florian was in. Anyway, he would find out somehow. He just had to know how he was doing! He made himself something to eat and drove to the hospital in Schwabing. He figured that they wouldn't give him any information there as a stranger, so he showed his ID and said that he needed a few more details about the accident. The nurse looked at him a bit strangely, but he got the information that Florian was on the second floor in room 206. Tommy wondered again whether he should really do this, but then decided to go up. He knocked on the door of room 206.
‘Come in,’ sounded muffled and quiet through the door. Tommy went in. A three-bed room and only one was occupied – by Florian. “Hello, I was in the accident the day before yesterday and just wanted to know how you are doing.” “Are you Mr Wagner – the cop?” The voice sounded weak but somehow sweet. Tommy went closer and grinned. ‘Yes, that's right, I'm the cop and my name is Tommy.’ You could see that it must have hurt Florian a lot, but he couldn't help smiling. But the pain was probably stronger then and he grimaced and narrowed his eyes. ‘Sorry, if I had known... I won't make any more jokes, okay?’ ‘It's okay,’ Florian replied painfully. “And how are you doing? Not so well, I'm guessing?” “Well, I've felt better. Since when do cops make hospital visits?” “I'm here more privately,” Tommy justified himself. Florian was hooked up to countless tubes, was as pale as death, and the scratches on his face were only now really visible. In any case, you could feel sorry for him. Florian saw that Tommy's eyes wandered over all the infusions, accesses, drainages and the other equipment and he seemed to wonder what all this was for. ‘Oh, it's not that bad! Tequila is in here and the brown bottle over there has nicotine dissolved in alcohol!’ He grinned broadly at Tommy. Even if he felt so bad, he still had a sense of humour and his smile was simply enchanting. ‘I still wouldn't want to swap with you – I'd rather go to my Irish pub and smoke a real fag with my Guinness,’ said Tommy. ‘Take me with you, please!’ ‘I'd take you with me, but get well first! What exactly is wrong with you?’ Tommy knew the answer to that, but he just wanted to hear Florian's voice for as long as possible. ’Well... I've got a broken thigh, bruises all down my left side and a slight concussion. On top of that, I've got a ruptured spleen and a broken rib. It'll probably take a while before I'm fit again.’ Florian looked quite sad. But he had to accept it. ‘Oh, you poor thing! And do you already know how long you'll have to stay in here?’ ‘Until the end of next week – for observation and stuff, they say.’ ‘Hopefully you don't get a cold on top of everything – it was pissing rain the day before yesterday! Just imagine if you had to cough or sneeze with that rib there!’ “Great! But you were holding me, so nothing could have happened to me!” “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” “Yeah, sure! I remember it very clearly... How you wanted to calm me down and all that...” he said with a grin. “And all that...?”, Tommy followed up. ‘Well, you stroked my cheek too – yes, I noticed that too!’ “Well, you should have noticed that too – otherwise I could have left it alone. Besides, I could think of nicer occasions to hug you than when you're injured in an accident!” ’Really? Anyway, I'm really happy that you came to visit me! What my mother said about you must be true, right?’ “Yes, what did she say?” Florian looked a bit down and hoped that Tommy would figure out what he meant. Of course Tommy already knew exactly what he had meant. “That I'm gay too? Is that what you mean?” Florian just looked at him and smiled contentedly, as if he had just been given an injection of morphine. ‘Are you coming to visit me again or did you just want to know how I am today?’ “I had a really bad dream last night after the accident and kept seeing your face. I just had to see you and know that you're okay. Do you want me to come and see you again?” ’Of course! If you want? My mother said that only one of your colleagues knows. I hope you won't get into trouble if you visit me!’ “Well, I don't see any problems there. Even if colleagues find out... I should still be able to visit someone in hospital, shouldn't I?” “So you'll come back tomorrow, yes?” “Of course I will,” said Tommy, and at that moment there was a knock at the door and without waiting a moment, a nurse came in. ‘You'll have to leave for a moment, please, he has to get his thrombosis injection.’ “He can stay here because of me,” Florian snapped at the nurse. The nurse wasn't quite sure whether that was meant seriously or jokingly – you could see the cogs in her head rotating and Tommy just couldn't help but smirk. Of course, she grinned back at him, but Florian tried desperately to remain serious. The nurse put on a bored and annoyed face, pushed the blanket aside and pulled his T-shirt up a little so that the stomach was free for the injection. On one side, his body was all yellow, green and red from the bruises. From the belly button upwards, he had a bandage – probably because of the broken rib or the operation on his spleen. The nurse gave him the injection, pulled his T-shirt back into place and covered him up again. ‘Please no more so long. He needs rest,’ she said to Tommy as she was leaving. ‘It's okay,’ Florian and Tommy said in unison. They looked at each other and grinned. ‘You're really nice for a cop…’ Florian started, when there was another knock at the door. He raised his eyebrows. “Come in,” he said annoyed. The door opened and his mother came in. “Hello,” she said and stopped short when she saw Tommy. A strange smile crossed her face. ’Hello, Mr Wagner. What are you doing here?’ Before Tommy could think of what he should say, Florian spoke up. ‘He wanted to see how I am doing! Isn't that nice?’ ‘Of course, it's purely business, of course,’ she added and smiled at Tommy; the kind of smile you give to someone when you know they're lying. Tommy felt like an open book at the moment. He would have liked to have had a big panic buzzer like on a game show: floor up – Tommy in – floor down. She walked up to Tommy and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. ‘It's really sweet of you to come and visit him!’ ‘Well, it's not really work-related! I just wanted to see how he was doing!’ ‘I know, but... Are you off today?’ ‘Yes, I had the early and night shift yesterday and don't have to start until noon the day after tomorrow.’ “Yes, and he's coming to visit me again tomorrow!” Florian beamed briefly before his face was distorted by pain again. His mother turned to Tommy. “Tell me, you two... Am I missing something?” Tommy wasn't quite sure either, so he looked at Florian and waited for him to say something. Florian didn't know exactly what to say either. But there was only one thing he could do. ‘Nah – you didn't miss anything! He just wants to visit me, mum!’ He looked over at Tommy and you could tell from his expression that he would have liked to have said something different. To go to such lengths for just one visit was really not like Tommy. Even though he was a very talkative police officer and always had a clever thing to say for every occasion in his circle of friends, he was rather shy and reserved in these matters. ‘What's not, can still be,’ said Mrs Bachmeier suddenly, and received a look from Florian that should have killed her on the spot. ‘Mum!!!’ Tommy was now a little too embarrassed and since he would be coming back tomorrow anyway, he wanted to withdraw. ‘I'll go then and see you tomorrow! Bye Mrs Bachmeier!’ ‘I'm looking forward to it, Tommy!’ ‘Goodbye and have a nice weekend Mr Wagner,’ said Mrs Bachmeier. How he would have liked to give Florian another kiss, but he didn't dare to, of course
, so he walked wordlessly to the door and was gone.
‘Mom, what was that all about?’ Florian immediately snapped at his mother. ’Why? What? I thought you liked each other! Is it so far-fetched that...?’ “Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't come to visit me tomorrow. And just because you can't keep your comments to yourself!” Florian looked really angry and deeply unhappy at the same time, and his mother was amazed because she had never seen her son like this before. ’Tell me, Flori... Have you maybe got a crush on Mr Wagner? Is that possible? What?’ she teased. “I don't know. He's somehow different. Not so cheeky, not one to just hang around being lazy, he's nice too... and he's not bad looking, is he?” ’Well, I thought he was quite nice the night before last when he was with his colleague at my place. He's definitely not like Patrick. He was the last thing!’ “No, he's definitely not like that! Tell me, how old do you think he is? In his early 20s? What do you think?” “Yeah, I think that's about right. Just ask him tomorrow.” ’I don't really care about age, unless it's decades. The main thing is that he's sweet, nice, well – you know what I mean.‘ “Yes, I see. And you can also assume that he won't start something with someone else every day, like Patrick.” “Yes, I think so too.” “So you have my ”blessing’. Not that I want to take it away from you, but I also think he's very nice. Well, I have to go again. May I come by again tomorrow?’ “Do whatever you want!” Florian joked and when he saw his mother's face fall to the floor, he realised that this joke had probably not been received. “Sure, Mom, of course!” ’Well, tomorrow then, and get well soon!’
Tommy was at home and was thinking of Florian again. He just couldn't get him out of his head. He would have liked to go to him again right away, but he didn't want to be too intrusive. He didn't know that Florian had also taken an interest in him. And Florian had no idea that Tommy wanted nothing more than to simply hold him in his arms. So they both languished and longed for the next afternoon. Tommy couldn't sleep much better than Florian. Only that it wasn't the pain that kept him awake. The next morning, both of them got through the time only slowly and with difficulty, until Tommy couldn't stand it anymore and got into the car.
When visiting his mother, Tommy had seen a pack of red Gauloises in Florian's room – so Florian probably smoked too. Tommy stopped at a kiosk and bought a pack and a lighter. On the lighter was written (how could it be otherwise?) ‘I love you!’ At the hospital, he couldn't wait to go upstairs. There it was! Room 206 – behind this door lay his sweetheart. Oh well, they weren't together after all. This realisation caused Tommy to become quite sobered and he stood there, paralysed, lost in thought. Then the door opened and Florian stood there with crutches, wearing jogging bottoms and a T-shirt. ‘Hey, you're already here! Cool! Come in!’ ‘Hello little one! And you're allowed to get up again, are you? Where did you want to go again?’ ’Well, the doctor was here earlier and allowed me to smoke again, as long as I don't overdo it. And since I don't have any fags here, I was just about to go to the kiosk downstairs in the hall.’ Well, that was convenient... Tommy held out the packet of fags with the lighter. ‘You can save yourself the trip.’ ‘How did you know?’ ‘Ooooh, there's something written on the lighter! Um... is that right?’ ‘Of course it's right!’ Without thinking twice, Florian gave him a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu I love you too! You're really sweet, you know that, Tommy?’ “You're sweet too,” said Tommy, hugging Florian. “Ow... ow... ow... ow...” came from Florian. Tommy immediately let him go. All the wounds probably hurt quite a bit when hugging. ’It's okay, better than yesterday, but it still hurts. The bruises hurt like hell – even more than yesterday,’ Florian said before Tommy could say or ask anything. Tommy now summoned up all his courage. “Hey Florian? Don't you have a boyfriend?” “Not anymore, and you?” “Unfortunately not either!” “But I think I almost have a new one,” Florian added. ’Oh? Well, come on... let's go and have a smoke!’ Tommy was visibly disappointed. Had he understood that right? Florian already had something new in prospect? Florian realised that Tommy was thinking in the wrong direction and helped a little. “But my future boyfriend probably doesn't like me, what do you think?” ’Why are you asking me that? You have to ask him yourself,’ Tommy grumbled somewhat petulantly. “But that's what I just did... at least I hope so!” Now Tommy had understood it correctly. Florian was a funny little fellow, to lead him up the garden path like that! He turned around, looked into Florian's dark eyes and simply couldn't say anything. He couldn't even get one of his famous ripostes out. He just wanted to take this dear person in his arms and never let go. Tommy took him in his arms very gently so as not to hurt him. ‘I can't stand it without you anymore, little one!’ Tears rolled down Tommy's cheeks. Florian's thick tears now also rolled down his cheeks. ‘I can't stand it without you either, big guy!’
The worst possible moment for it... There was a knock at the door and the nurse was standing in the room. She saw the two of them lying in each other's arms, more or less crying, and now everything was clear to her. She almost didn't dare say anything. ‘Sorry, I'll be back in five minutes with the injection.’ When she walked backwards out of the room, she almost fainted. Florian and Tommy had to laugh. When the door closed again, Florian took Tommy's head in his hands and gave him a tentative kiss on the mouth. Yes, they had both wanted that so much, even though they had only known each other for a few hours. Couldn't this moment last forever? They were enjoying the moment when there was already another knock at the door. It had never been five minutes! But it wasn't the expected nurse, but Florian's mother, who came in looking quite puzzled. ‘So!’ Florian and Tommy just grinned at her. What else could they have said? ‘Well, I'm really happy for you! Can I still stay?’ she joked. ‘Nah...’, Florian said dryly, ‘...because I really need a smoke now!’ ‘Was I that good, darling?’ Tommy asked, trying to sound as serious as possible. But everyone burst out laughing. Florian hobbled to the door with his crutches and there was another knock. The nurse came in. OK, so the five minutes were up. “Well, we have to go now, even if it's inconvenient,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. Florian lay down on the bed and pulled up his T-shirt so that she could finish faster. The nurse gave him the injection rather hastily and seemed to have hit a nerve this time, or at least only just missed it. Besides, these thrombosis injections burn like hell anyway. Florian pursed his lips. The nurse just left him like that today and went out of the room again. Florian still lay there and you could see that it had really hurt today, because a tear rolled down his right cheek. Tommy went to him, put his hand on the spot where the nurse had given the injection and gave him a kiss on the right eye from which the tear had come. ‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ ‘You're really sweet! I love you so much!’ “You make a beautiful couple!” the mother said enviously. Florian sat up, stood up and limped with his crutches towards the door. “So, if I don't get my fag now, I'm gonna get pissed!” His mother held her arm in front of him, so he had to stop and stared at her in amazement. Did she realise that this meant war? But before he had taken the necessary breath to rant, she pulled a packet of red Gauloises out of her coat pocket and held it out to him. ‘I brought you these. Are you allowed to smoke again?’ ‘Yes, thanks, mum. The doctor said I could, as long as I don't smoke more than five a day.’ ‘Well then... What are you still standing around here for, Flori?’
After a fleeting thank-you kiss, everyone trotted out of the room. This time nothing came up and they went towards the cafeteria. In the hallway, many people came towards them, some of them were sick people with a so-called gallows next to them, on which infusions hung. Fortunately, Florian didn't need any more and the crutches only hindered him a little. When people were around, he would say loudly that his stupid catheter was full again and enjoyed the indignant reactions of the people around him. He was a real joker. No wonder – as happy as he was at the moment! Despite his injuries. Then they sat down in the cafeteria.
‘So, first of all... I'm Heidi now,’ Frau Bachmeier said to Tommy. “And I'm Tommy,” he replied. She told Tommy that she worked at the gate at Munich Airport and also worked shifts. However, she didn't have any night shifts, just an early, midday and late shift. Florian said that after his tenth year at school, he wanted to be an IT technician or something similar. Tommy had also thought about changing to the computer industry, because he liked it even more than police work. They talked until it was dark outside. They went back to the room and Heidi said goodbye to Tommy and Florian.
‘You know that I can't visit you tomorrow because I'm on duty?’ ’Yes, I got it – too bad! I don't know if I can stand it, darling – really! I think I've got a real crush on you!’ Florian blushed quite a bit, but something in him just forced him to tell Tommy. “I don't feel any different, darling. I'll see that I come by after work – so around half past eight or so.” ’So late? By then I'll have died of longing twice already!’ Tommy took Florian in his arms and a long goodbye kiss followed. Then Tommy went home. It was a restless night because Tommy would have liked to have had his sweetheart in his arms as he fell asleep. At the same time in room 206 of the Schwabing Hospital... pretty much the same thing was going on there. Florian just couldn't get to sleep, longing for a hug from his new sweetheart. But eventually they both fell asleep, each of them thinking they were holding the other in their arms...
Oh yes... one more legal notice:
In this story, some of the characters do not act in accordance with the law.
This circumstance is necessary for the presentation of the story and serves ONLY this purpose!