This is a story involving love between an adult man and a boy. There will be sexually explicit parts in places, though sex is not the central theme. It also explores themes that some may find disturbing. Nobody is forcing you to read anything that you dislike, or to continue reading about matters that upset you. While the story is complete fiction, it is not written in a vacuum.

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By villager@hushmail.me

Abuse – Part 4

Continued from Part 3 ...

The doorbell roused them at 5 in the morning. Joan was padding barefoot to the door before John or Matthew were fully awake. Parked outside was a green and white chequered “doctor on call” car that her son had borrowed from the hospital car pool. Gareth entered the house looking haggard and dishevelled, and Joan made cups of coffee as Gareth collapsed wearily onto the sofa.

As soon as all four of them were in the room with hot cups in their hands, Gareth spoke.

“My team and I have been working on Matthew's father all night,” he said, “And I am afraid the news is not very good ...”

“I knew it!” John exclaimed, “I really hurt him, didn't I?”

“No, it has nothing to do with what you did,” Gareth contradicted, “Though you may have precipitated the seizure. Matthew's father has a tumour in his brain, which has now grown to a size that it has become life-threatening.” Gareth looked at Matthew, “The only chance your father has, Matthew, is to have immediate surgery to excise – erm – cut out the tumour, and I have scheduled the operation for this evening.”

“Mum had a tumour and she died,” Matthew observed. “Will Dad die?”

“The position of the tumour makes the operation quite risky, Matthew, and I am afraid that there is a very significant chance that he may die, or end up with a serious disability. However, I have carried out many similar operations and there is also a very good possibility of success. The scans can only show us so much, and I will have a better idea once I actually begin the surgery.”

“Who is assisting you?” asked Joan.

“Actually, mum, I have asked Bill White to fly down, and I will be assisting him. Bill's the most experienced surgeon in this field in the country,” Gareth said for the benefit of John and Matthew. “I lured him here with a promise of one of your roasts for dinner tomorrow, mum, if you don't mind putting the two of us up tomorrow night?”

“Only if he agrees to a return game of chess,” Joan smiled, “He caught me on an off-day last time.”

“Um – Gareth,” John queried, “Can't tumours cause a change in personality?”

“If you are thinking about his recent violent behaviour toward Matthew,” answered Gareth, “That was almost certainly precipitated by the damage caused by the tumour. Whilst it is not possible to determine the exact effects, tumours in that part of the brain can affect temperament and judgement amongst other things. Anger and irrational impulsive behaviour would be a distinct possibility.”

“So Dad couldn't help it?” asked Matthew, “It wasn't his fault that he hit me?”

“Fault and blame are not medical concepts,” Gareth said, “I deal only in cause and effect. Effectively your brain is you. Everything you do is a result of something that happens or changes in your brain. Your father would not have done the things he did if the tumour had not changed how his brain worked, but another person might do the same things because that is the way their brain works without a tumour being present. If a person cannot be blamed because a tumour has affected the workings of their brain, then we shouldn't blame a person who does the same because they were born with a brain that has always worked that way – neither person was responsible for how their brain works. To go even further, the way our brain ends up working is also affected by all our experiences in life – so yet another person might do terrible things because of the way their brain has been altered by how they were raised, or experiences in their life. We would have to excuse everyone for everything – nobody could be blamed for anything. You would have to conclude that free will simply doesn't exist.”

“We've had this discussion before,” Joan told John, “My argument is that blame is to do with a person's knowledge and experience.”

“Huh, how so?” John asked.

“Well,” said Joan, “If you came across an injured person, perhaps in a road accident, and you tried your best to help that person but inadvertently made them worse, few people would blame you for causing that harm because you didn't know any better. But if Gareth did the same thing, then he would be to blame, because he has the necessary medical knowledge and experience and should have known better.”

“I understand that,” John agreed, “But how is that relevant to ...”

“Think about it,” said Joan, “A person born with a brain that gets angry too quickly and is incapable of making good judgements has years of childhood to understand how to behave properly despite having those problems, and by the time they are old enough to cause real harm, they should have the experience and knowledge to be able to overcome those handicaps and suppress bad behaviour. But Matthew's father has never had to cope with anger problems in his life because he hardly ever got angry, and he has been used to being able to make good judgements for himself. When that was suddenly changed by the tumour, he was no more to blame for failing to do the right thing than you are should you do harm to the accident victim because you did not have the experience or knowledge to know any better. But in any case, it is not for you or Gareth or I to pass judgement. Only Matthew can make that decision, because only he was and will be affected.”

Matthew was struggling to follow the sophisticated discussion. “So if your brain is you,” Matthew asked Gareth, “But a tumour changes your brain – doesn't that mean that you are not you any more?”

“That's one way of looking at it,” agreed Gareth, “Though as I said, our brain changes all the time as it learns new things, so in effect you are a different person than you were yesterday – and you are certainly a different person to who you were when you were two years old because your brain has changed so much since then!”

“If you take the tumour away, will Dad be back to the same person he used to be?” asked Matthew.

“If the operation is successful and there is no other damage, then that is possible,” hedged Gareth.

“I'm not gonna blame Dad because it was a different person who hit me.” Matthew declared.

“What would the law do?” John wondered, asking nobody in particular.

“Any court would conclude that he was not responsible for his actions and acquit,” Joan said, “Not that it means that much – the law only tells you what is legal and illegal, it doesn't tell you what is right and wrong.”

“Anyway,” said Gareth,“ I need to get some sleep now, but if Matthew wants to see his Dad before the operation, you should take him to the hospital soon before he is prepped.”

John looked at Matthew questioningly.

“No,” Matthew declared, “He's not my real Dad yet, I'll wait till after.”

“Gareth said the operation is dangerous so you might not get that chance, Matthew,” John reminded him as gently as he could.

“I know,” said Matthew, “I still don't wanna see whoever is in my Dad's body now.”

“In fact that's probably a good decision, Matthew, and an excellent way of looking at things,” said Gareth, “John if you don't mind I'm going to commandeer your bed for the next few hours. Oh – I nearly forgot – it was naughty of me, but I stole these from my patient.” Gareth gave Matthew a bunch of keys, “I thought you might want to fetch some of your things from your house. Please don't mention it to anyone else.”

The ointment that John had administered to Matthew the previous evening appeared to have alleviated Matthew's discomfort quite a bit, and John put some more on Matthew before he got dressed. John decided to take everyone out for breakfast at a café he knew that was situated inside a genuine old castle overlooking a picturesque river. Joan had at first opposed the idea, saying that she was quite happy to make breakfast for them all, but John had countered by saying that Gareth was less likely to be disturbed if they were out of the house.

“Why don't you take Matthew in your car and I'll follow in mine?” Joan suggested. John grinned his acceptance of the idea.

“Why don't we all go in one car?” Matthew asked, perplexed.

“John's car is too small – it's only got two seats, so we won't all fit,” Joan explained.

“Then we could all go in your car,” Matthew was still puzzled.

Joan had an anticipatory smile on her face as John raised the door of his garage.

“Wow wow wow,” Matthew was exclaiming as he ran all around John's 3.6-litre six-cylinder midnight blue Porsche, “Is this really yours?”

“I think he approves,” laughed Joan, “Would you still prefer to come in my car?” she asked Matthew mischievously. Matthew grinned at her and shook his head.

Matthew was on cloud nine for the entire 40 minute journey, and they even drove with the top down for a few miles despite the cold weather so Matthew could see what it was like. John showed off outrageously, using the car's awesome maximum acceleration frequently, though he always drove safely and didn't drive all that much over the speed limit even when they were on the brief motorway stretch. Well, apart for a mile or so …

When they arrived at the café John invited Matthew to change seats and sit behind the wheel while they waited for Joan. Matthew examined all the controls and played with the car's CD changer until Joan pulled up, and they had to practically prise him out of the vehicle.

After an enjoyable breakfast they looked around the castle, which was also a museum of middle-age artefacts. John made a brief phone call from his mobile, and determined that a place that he had just thought of was open that day.

“We'll see you back at the house a bit later,” John told Joan, “I'm taking the long way back.”

“Where are we?” Matthew asked John when they stopped in a car park after driving for half an hour.

“It's a private track,” John explained, “You can pay to take a private car for a few laps.”

John made the arrangements, took two crash helmets that the organisers supplied on loan, and was soon showing off the car's capabilities in a place that had no speed limits. Then he pulled over and stopped.

“We're going to do a very slow lap now,” John explained.

“Why?” asked Matthew.

“Because I'm going to teach you to drive this lap, and I don't want you going too fast. Swap seats”

Matthew recounted the experience in the minutest detail to Joan after they got home, and later while Gareth was eating the dinner that John had persuaded Joan to allow him to prepare, he related the entire event again to Gareth. Gareth smiled and ruffled Matthew's hair affectionately. “Don't spoil him,” he warned John belatedly.

After they had eaten, Gareth left for the hospital, promising to phone John as soon as the operation was over, and it was Matthew this time that argued with Joan, insisting that he and John would do the washing up while Joan relaxed and watched the news on TV. After that chore was complete, Joan informed them that she would return to her house rather than spend another night with them, because she had to prepare for Gareth and Bill's arrival, which would probably be in the early hours of the morning.

“By the way,” Joan said, “There was a brief item on the news about a train that had to make an emergency stop yesterday after the driver spotted some drunken youths messing about on the line. Apparently the drunks in question managed to disappear without a trace.”

As she was going out the door, Matthew went up to her and gave her a hug. She kissed his cheek.

“Thank you Auntie Joan,” Matthew said in a tone that left no doubt at all that he was sincere.

John moved behind Matthew and hugged Joan as well. He didn't have to thank her, because his gratitude was written all over his face.

“I'll definitely be visiting again soon if I can expect this treatment,” Joan promised. “You look after our John,” she instructed Matthew. As she turned toward the street, she wiped a small tear from her cheek.

“Do you want to collect some of your stuff from your house now, or leave it till tomorrow?” John asked Matthew after Joan had gone and they were again alone in the house.

“Can we just stay here and watch telly tonight,” Matthew replied, “There might be another good film on.”

It was really an excuse for another cuddle on the sofa, and although the film they found as they lay together was not bad, the early awakening coupled with the day's events resulted in them soon both falling asleep in each others' arms.

John opened his eyes hours later, and realising it was late roused Matthew. “We had better wake up so we can go to bed,” chuckled John. “C'mon, let's get showered and changed for bed, and I'll put your ointment on.”

John stood up and pulled his clothes off in the living room, and walked to the bathroom in his boxers. Matthew had done the same and followed John, holding his hand. John had made the bathroom a wet room, so the entire room was effectively a shower. He decided that there would be no harm in showering together as that's what Matthew obviously intended, and shucked off his boxers before entering the bathroom. John adjusted the taps for a nice warm flow, switched the shower head to produce a wide spray, and the two of them stood under the water. John examined the marks on Matthew as he soaped down his back, and saw that they were no longer looking quite so angry. Matthew squeezed out a handful of shower gel and moved to stand behind John and started soaping his back in return, then wrapped his arms around John and started soaping down his chest and tummy. John then moved back behind Matthew and did the same for him, then started washing Matthew's hair. Matthew turned around to face John, and reaching up, began washing John's hair at the same time. John bent slightly forward so that Matthew had a better reach. They then both rinsed off. John got some more gel and went over Matthew's back again, this time with them facing each other so that John was hugging Matthew as he soaped his back for the second time. Mathew grabbed some more gel and did the same to John. While running his soapy hands over John's back, Mathew pulled John closer so their bodies touched in front. Matthew's nose was level with John's chin, and John pulled Matthew to him to return the hug. After several minutes John moved his hands to Matthew's shoulder and gently pushed apart, saying that they had better get to bed. As they broke contact John was surprised to see that Matthew had an erection. Then he was even more surprised when he saw that he had also become stiff – he had not felt it happening. Somehow though, it just seemed perfectly natural. John moved his head down and kissed Matthew on his forehead.

John cut the flow of water and they towelled each other dry.

“You may as well keep your jammies off till I've put on your ointment,” John suggested, and they walked to the bedroom without bothering to put anything on. Matthew again took John's hand. As they walked in the bedroom door, the phone began to ring. John sat on the side of the bed and picked up the bedroom phone extension. Matthew sat beside John, their hips touching, and as John spoke into the handset he snaked an arm around John and cuddled his waist. John put an arm around Matthew's shoulder and pulled him close.

“Matthew's with me, Gareth, I'll put you on speaker.” John pressed the appropriate button on the phone.

“Hi guys,” Gareth's voice came from the speaker. “I've just come out of theatre ...”

John looked at the time. “That was quick,” he said, and thought to himself, “either the operation went incredibly well, or ...

To be continued …

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