ON THE RUN WITH JONATHAN TAYLOR THOMAS

The usual disclaimers apply. DO not read this if you are not allowed to, or don't get caught. If you don't like sex between teenage males then back out now. This does not imply anything about the sexuality of Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I wish it did though!
This is my first attempt at a story so I would really appreciate any comments, good or bad.


PART 10

I woke up feeling sick. My stomach churned and I was sweating. I'd had a restless night, tossing and turning, trying not to wake Jonathan as he clung to me. He'd begged and pleaded with me, not to do this. But I was tired of running and I didn't think I could go on forever. When we'd been at the hotel things had been great. Going to the amusement park and the cinema. That seemed like such a long time ago. More had happened in the past few days than ever before in my life. And it had exhausted me. I guess I was giving up.

I got up without waking him and for a long time I just watched him. He wasn't sleeping peacefully though. His brow was furrowed with worry and his eyes darted behind his lids. Every now and then he moaned. I wondered if he was dreaming about us spitting up and it tore me apart. I decided to take a walk and let him sleep, so I threw on some clothes and made my way down stairs. The same girl from last night was perched behind the counter. She looked at me and then over my shoulder to see if the object of her desires, and mine, was with me.

"He's still sleeping", I informed her.
"Did I ask?", she said cheekily.
"No, but I can read your mind", I said snidely.
"I'm not stupitd", she smirked, "I've heard the rumors".
"What rumours", I asked worriedly.
"That Jonathan is gay. Are you his boyfriend? You know sharing that bed and all". "Don't be so stupitd", I told her, "Jonathan is my friend, just my friend. And I slept on the floor".
"Sure, whatever", she smirked. I felt like hitting her.

When I got to a shop, I bought a paper. We'd made it to Page 1 again, what with the new developments and all. Ryan and Michael were refusing to say anything except that they loved eachother and that Jonathan and I had been helping them to stay together. I half panicked for a minute waiting for them to declare that Jonathan and I loved eachother aswell, but they said nothing. I felt proud of them. They had guts to come out in such a public way. I could never do that. I went and sat down beside a lake. It was nice at this time of morning. Not too many people around and the water was very still. I wished that Jonathan and I could live here forever. And when we walked along the street holding hands people would smile and say hello. I could go to school and Jonathan could make films. And when he came home I would make him dinner and he could help me with my homework. Then we could sit in front of the fire and talk, about silly things, things that didn't matter, not about Police and Social services. The tears streaked my face, and my sobbing turned to histerics. I shook uncontrollably and cried into my hands. I glaned up to see Jonathan coming around the corner. I dried my eyes quickly, not wanting him to see me cry.

"Hey", I managed as he drew near.
He eyed me suspiciously, his hair blowing in the cool breeze.
"You've been crying", he said.
"No, it's just the wind", I lied.
"Nicky, have you been crying?", he asked.
"No". He pretended not to hear me.
"Nicky, have you been crying?". "Yes", I gave in. He sat beside me draping his arm over my shoulders. "That girl give you a hard time?", I asked him.
"Yeah, when I ignored her request for an autograph, she called me a queer", he said.
I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes.
"What did you say", I asked him.
"I told her it was better than being ugly", he said.
We both laughed.
"Yeah well, the bitch deserved it", I said.
Jonathan kissed my cheek.
"It's nice when it's just us, isn't it Nicky".
"Yeah, it's great", I sighed.
"I mean, without Ryan and Michael there's no trouble. Nicky, couldn't we...", he started.
"No Jonathan, we've discused this. We decided it's for the best".
"No Nicky", he said standing up "You discussed it. You decided it was for the best. You're the one breaking us up".
He started to cry. "Jonathan", I said, standing up and putting my arms around him.
"No Nicky don't. I've gone along with this, but I can't anymore. It's killing me. I don't give a shit about anything but you. I need you. You can't do this to me. Don't do this to me", he pleaded.
"What's the alternative?", I asked.
"I don't know", he shouted, "But nothing is ever easy. And for you to give up, without a fight, it's just not like you. A couple of days ago we were on the run, doing anything to stay together. Anything that could ever happen to break us up has happened. But we're stronger now. Don't you see, it was the boys holding us back, causing all the trouble".
"You can't blame them", I said.
"To hell I can't", he said harshly, "I just never thought that...". "Never thought what?", I asked.
"Nothing", he said crying.
"You never thought what?", I demanded.
"There's your parents, my parents, the Police and the goddam Social Services and I just never thought that the person who would deliberately break us up would be...you".
His words stung, but I knew he was right. He stormed off a few feet away and sat, head in hands sobbing. Why was I doing this to him? I didn't want to break up with him. I went to him, every heart beat stinging, as I decided that we should stay together.

There was a shout and then a flash of a camera. I swung around to see a photographer taking my picture. Jonathan turned too, and they got a picture of him, with his tear streaked face. He still looked beautiful though. There was a reporter too and he flew over.
"Jonathan", he said shoving a tape recorder in his face, "Have you found this mysterious girlfriend you went in search of?".
Jonathan looked around at me and I shook my head no.
"Sure I have", Jonathan said, "Didn't you just take his picture".
The reporter looked stunned. "Except he's my boyfriend, not my girlfriend. Does he look like a girl to you? I don't think so".
"He's...he's your...boyfriend?", the reporter stuttered.
"Well actually, not anymore", Jonathan said, "You see, we had a little fight...".
"Jonathan don't", I said.
"He thinks I should keep my stardom and give him up. What do you think?", he asked the shocked reporter.
"I...I don't know", he offered.
"Neither do I", Jonathan said snatching the tape recorder, "Now if you want an interview you can contact my agent. I don't like your chances though".
He ripped the tape out and threw it into the lake. The poor reporter just stood and watched. Jonathan grabbed my hand and started dragging me back towards the hostel. The camera flashed in our faces constantly. Jonathan kept dragging me up the road. I knew better than to stop him.

"Did you call the press", he steamed at the girl behind the counter in the hostel.
"I...I don't know what you're talking about", she stuttered.
"Did you call the press", he shouted.
"Yes I did", she screamed back, "You wouldn't give me your autograph".
"So you called the press", I said calmly, "Have you any idea what you've done?".
"I don't care", she said snobbishly sticking her nose in the air, "You should be thankful I didn't tell them that you were screwing eachother".
"You little bitch", Jonathan said.
"What's going on here?", a big burly man said coming out of a back room.
"Nothing sir", the girl said hanging her head.
"Hi, I', Jonathan Taylor Thomas", Jonathan said stepping forward.
The man eyed him.
"Sure kid, I know who you are", the man said.
"Well", Jonathan said nicely, "I am doing a tour of Youth Hostels, writing celebrity reviews and that".
"That's a lie", the girl squeaked.
"Emma", the man said sternly.
"I stayed here last night", Jonathan said, "And your assistant called the press on me". "Emma", the man barked, "Is this true".
"Yes sir", Emma offered. I almost felt sorry for her.
"Go home Emma", he said, "Come back in this afternoon and I'll have your wages done up for you".
"But...".
"But nothing", he snarled, "I warned you the last time and the time before that, now go".
She left sobbing. I couldn't help but wonder what the last times were. The man apologised to us and we went upstairs. I looked out the window to see Emma being interviewed by the slimey reporter. God only knows what she was telling them. I didn't really think it mattered though, not after Jonathan's little performance. "You print any lie that little bitch tells you", Jonathan screamed out the window, "and I'll sue you for slander".
"Jonathan leave it", I said pulling him away from the window, "Can you see now? You never used to be like this. You're stressed out, angry. You fly off the handle too easy. You don't have Ryan and Michael to blame now. It's me. I'm doing this to you. I've made you like you are, and I hate myself for it".
"Nicky, you can't blame yourself", Jonathan said shocked, "Maybe I am a bit stressed. Maybe if we could just get away somewhere, I could be calmer. It would be just you and me".
"Jonathan, it doesn't matter where we go. There's always gonna be an Emma calling reporters and making trouble for us".
"I wish I'd never set foot onto that Home Improvement set", Jonathan said bitterly.
"Then we'd never have met", I told him.
"Maybe, maybe not", he said, "But at least I wouldn't be feeling like this".
I really did feel bad about making us break up. I had to be strong, when he couldn't be. I knew in my head that I was doing the right thing, but my heart did told me a different story. "Right then, so I go back to America and pick up where I left off. Where are you going to go?", he asked me.
"I'm going to go home", I told him, "I know I can work things out with my parents now. My mom anyway".
"Home, to your bastard father?", he asked shocked.
"Yes, home", I told him, "I'm 15. There's nowhere else left to go".
"Is that it then?", he asked his eyes filled with tears.
"That's it", I told him turning away because I couldn't let him see me cry. I knew he would try and comfort me, and at that moment in time if he'd kissed me I'd have run away with him again.

I cried in the bathroom as I listened to him on the phone to his mother. I could hear him crying too as he told her where he'd been. I wished that things could be different. He hung up the phone and called me. I dried my eys and went out.
He frowned when he saw my swollen eyes but said nothing.
"Well, it's all arranged", he informed me, "My ticket will be at the airport for me".
"When's your flight?", I asked.
"Six", he told me.
"Today?", I nearly choked.
"You wanted rid of me didn't you?", he said bitterly.
"Jonathan, it doesn't have to be like this", I said soflty.
"You mean you're going to stay?", he said not really expecting an answer.
"No. But it doesn't mean we have to leave on such bad terms".
"Bad terms!", he exclaimed, "Nicky, don't you understand that I'm in love with you? Your'e breaking up with me, dumping me. And you expect me to smile and say goodbye. Maybe give you a little peck on the check. No Nicky, I'm going to leave the only way I can. Quickly and without goodbyes".
"No goodbye", I said choking back the tears. I suppose I had some stupitd image of me hugging him goodbye in the airport and promising to write, like in the movies. "No goodbyes Nicky. You've broke my heart once already. I couldn't stand it again".
"But you knew I was leaving yesterday and you still made love to me", I said.
"I guess I didn't really believe you".

I sat cross legged on the bed and watched him get his stuff ready. He was crying the whole time, and I kinda considered giving in to him. It isn't an easy thing to say no to Jonathan Taylor Thomas. I started feeling really sick again. My stomach did somersaults as I watched him finish packing. His flight wasn't for five hours. Was he just going to go without saying goodbye? Surely it had to be more meaningful than that. My question was answered. He finished packing and turned to me. The tears flowed freely down his face and and he just looked at me. He took my hand and kissed me gently on the forehead. Then without another word he turned and left. For some reason though I didn't cry. No, I couldn't cry. My heart felt like it was going to explode and I felt like screaming but no tears came. I threm myself on the bed and kicked and screamed. Angry at him for not saying goodbye properly, but more angry at myself for letting him go. He probably wasn't even at the bottom of the stairs, but I'd never felt more alone in my life. But I couldn't ruin his career. I wasn't worth that, even if he thought I was. I was glad he didn't realise I lied to him though, about going home. I didn't know where I was going from here, but I knew that it wasn't within 200 miles of my father. I still couldn't believe he was gone. I started to cry.

The phone woke me from my sleep at around three. I forgot for a minute that Jonathan was gone. I reached for the phone groggily and answered it.
"Hello?", I asked sleepily.
"Hello. This is reception. Theres somewhere here to see you".
Without even thinking about it I threw the phone away and hurtled down the stairs. For some reason I thought it would be Jonathan, but instead I ran straight into the path of two policemen. I didn't try to run. It was over.
"How did you find me?", I asked.
"Nicholas Cullen?", they asked me.
"Yeah, how did you know I was here?", I asked again.
"The reporter", he told me.
"Oh", I said.
"Where is Mr. Thomas?", they asked.
"He's gone", I said trying not to cry.
"Where?", he asked.
"Home".
"Can we sit down Nicholas?", the one in plane clothes asked.
"It's Nicky", I snapped.
"Ok Nicky, can we sit down?", he said smiling. I wondered why he was been so nice to me.
"What is it?", I asked eyeing him suspiciously.
"I'm afraid we have some bad news for you", the police man said hanging his head.
My heart started to thud. "Is it Jonathan?", I asked in almost a whisper.
"No, no. We know nothing about him except that he was with you this morning".
"Oh God, is it Ryan. Has something happened Ryan. Or Michael. Tell me what it is", I screamed.
"I'm afraid it's your parents Nicky", the man told me.
"What did my Dad do now?", I asked relieved nothing had happened the boys, "Has he been causing trouble looking for me?".
"I'm afraid it's more serious than that Nicky".
"He hasn't told you to arrest me or anything has he? He can't do that can he?".
"Nicky, your parents were in a car accident three days ago", he said again hanging his head, unable to meet my gaze.
I laughed, but only for a second. Because they didn't laugh along. This wasn't a dream, I wasn't asleep. This was real.
"They're Ok though right?", I asked hopefully, even though I knew they weren't.
"I'm afraid not son", the man said.

I just nodded as he told me the details. Apparently they skidded in bad weather off a cliff. They would have felt no pain, as the car exploded immediately on impact. I wish he hadn't told me that, but I guess he thought if I was old enough to go on the run, I was old enough to hear the truth. The truth hurt. I was actually surprised at how little I felt. I mean I was close to tears and I really did feel bad and all, but I didn't get hysterical or anything. I took it very calmly. Too calm maybe.

After I'd packed my stuff the plain clothed officer who I'd learnt was called Detective Mulroy led me out to the car. He kept looking at me as if he was waiting for me to get all hysterical or something. He was taking me to the harbour to catch a boat home. There was a Social Services officer meeting us there to accompany me home. I wondered about Jonathan. I wanted to tell him. I thought about maybe ringing him the next day, but then I realised that I hadn't gotten his number. I burst in to tears.
"It's Ok Kid", Mulroy told me.
I felt bad because I wasn't crying for the reasons he thought I was. The radio buzzed. "Come in", Mulroy said picking up the microphone.
"Yeah", the voice echoed, "We got confirmation from the airpot. Thomas is booked on a flight to California at six this evening. What do you want me to do?".
"Ring the airport back. If he doesn't get on that plane I want to know. If he gets on then let him go. We don't need the bad publicity of dragging a big Hollywood star out of the airport. Besides he hasn't really done anything wrong".
"Ok boss", the radio went dead.
We stopped at traffic lights and before Detective Mulroy could say shit, I was half way accross the street. I hadn't even thought about it. I just leapt out of the car. I didn't have to think about it, I knew where I was going. I just hoped Detective Mulroy didn't.

I made it to the airport at around 15 minutes to six. I was breathless and my face was streaked with tears. My parents were dead and I needed Jonathan. I couldn't get through this without him. It hadn't really hit me until I'd heard it out loud from someone else that he was boarding a plane to America. If he got that far I'd never see him again, and I couldn't let that happen. I ran to the information desk.
"What gate does the six flight to California leave from?", I asked the girl behind the counter.
"Gate 14", she said after checking her computer.
I was running accross the crowded lobby before she looked up. Why was there so many people. I cursed them under my breath as I pushed through them. Nobody really took notice of me. No one taked notice of kids running anywhere. I had to go up a floor which was a nightmare. The escalators were crowded and taking my chances I tried to run up the one coming down. There was only a couple of people on that one. It wasn't a good idea though. Not in the mind of the security guard who caught a hold of my arm at the top. I tried to break from his grasp, but he was too strong.
"Please", I begged, "My friend is leaving on a flight in 5 minutes. I'm going to miss him".
"Do you know how dangerous that is?", he said gruffly.
"Please, if you'll just let me go I'll come back in a minute and you can lecture me then. I just...".
"Oh, a smart ass heh?", he asked ignoring my please.
"No, please you don't understand", I said desperately.
"Do you know how many people could have been injured. Not to mention...".
"Oh God", I cried bursting in to tears, "What did I do that was so bad. I just found out my parents are dead and I'm trying to get to my friend. I need to get to my friend. Why won't you let me go. Please. Let me go".
I sunk to the floor defeated. He was still holding my arm as I lay on the floor of the airport crying. I heard some passer by call the guard a bully, and someone else shouted let the kid go. He picked me up off the floor.
"Come on kid, go get your friend. Just stay on the right escalator in future".
I was up in a shot and bursting through the airport. Gate 14, where the hell was it. I saw the sign pointing in the right direction and I was there in a second. There was noone there except two airport staff gathering up tickets. He was already gone. I'd missed him.
"I need to speak to someone on that plane", I almost screamed at the girl.
"Sorry, the planes on the runway and about to take off", she said eyeing up my tear streaked face, "But if you want to get a message to someone we can have it delivered once the plane is in the air".

I didn't even listen to her finish. My mind swirled and I went over to sit down. I couldn't bring myself to watch the plane lift off. I knew that Mulroy would be here for me soon. There was no point in running away.
"Does this mean you've changed your mind?".
I swung around and through bleary eyes once again my prince stood.
"Well?", he asked again.
I didn't speak. I just threw myself on him knocking him to the ground and covering his face with kisses.
"I'll take that as a yes, will I", Jonathan asked laughing.
"Why didn't you get on the plane", I asked still crying, "I thought you were gone. You can never leave me now".
"I couldn't leave. I was about to head back to the hostel, when I saw you sitting here. My heart nearly jumped into my throat. I thought I would have to use all my charms to convince you to stay".
"Oh god Jonathan. Something terrible happened", I cried.
"What is it?", he asked worried.
"My parents are dead", I sobbed burying my head on his shoulder.
"Dead?", he asked shocked, "How?".
"In a car crash. That reporter called the police and they came to the hostel and told me".
"Jeez Nicky, I'm so sorry. But you have me. And I'll never leave you".
"Do we have to go on the run again?", I asked him.
"If we want to stay together then we don't have a choice. For a while anyway".
"I understand. Where are we going?", I asked needing him to make the decisions now.
"We're going to America", he told me holding me close to him.
"America", I said shocked, "How?".
"Shush Nicky. I'll get you there somehow".
"Jonathan", I said.
"Yeah".
"I love you".
"Yeah. I love you too".

We stood there in the airport, Jonathan cradling me in his arms. The strong me who'd existed to break up with Jonathan and push him out of my life was gone. The real me. The Nicky who liked to be looked after and told what to do by Jonathan Taylor Thomas was back. I snuggled my face agianst his soft cheek as he stroked my hair and comforted me silently. He knew what I needed and I loved him for it. We didn't need anyone but eachother. We didn't care what anyone thought anymore. We didn't see Detective Mulroy until it was too late.


Is this the end for Jonathan and Nicky? Theres one more part to come in this series! I still don't know how it's gonna end. Or if it ever will!


E-mail me with any comments. Your encouragement gives me the desire to write. Flames will be ignored.
Nicky.
cool_nicky@hotmail.com

See this story on my site.