Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2009 08:54:55 -0400 From: Sean E Subject: The Bully and the Bullied - Part 7 DISCLAIMER: I won't say anything more than just the usual - if you shouldn't be reading this, then don't get caught! This is a short story that involves boys who are coming-of-age, containing things that boys get into, including sexual situations, feelings, etc. It is my first attempt at fiction, having written only one other series based on my personal experiences growing up, titled "Life's Road of Discoveries" (also found here on Nifty in the Young-Friends section, posted early in 2008). This series has no basis in truth, whereas all characters and situations are fictional. Any resemblance in real life is purely coincidental. The era is based in the mid-1970's. This story will spread across 9 or 10 parts of varying lengths, and I hope that those of you who take to it and read it through will enjoy it. As always, any feedback is welcome (to EKidKy@hotmail.com). I sincerely hope you like it. :o) The Bully and the Bullied Part Seven - When We Finally Meet... ------------------------------------ "You can't be serious! No way!" he exclaimed, and then lowered his face into his friends' ear, bringing his voice almost to a whisper, "No fucking way did they do that! She's... I mean, she's like, -" "I know, she's the exact opposite of someone you'd expect anyone to go for, you know?" He scrunched his nose. "Man, you really got to get your ears fixed or cleaned out or something; you miss out on a whole lot of stuff sometimes!" Thomas replied. Michael saddened. "I know, man, I know... When did you hear all this?" "Today, she was sitting behind me at the next table in the lunchroom. You saw them giggling and everything, her and Sherry what's-her-face." Michael wrinkled his nose. "Sherry Pendleton? So THATS's what you were so wrapped up in! Man! So... Derek and Christie, huh? I mean... Christie..." Thomas let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I know. What he saw in her I wouldn't want to guess, you know?" He made a face. "I mean, she's SORT OF pretty and all, but she is so, like..." Michael grinned. "Yeah, I know, but I wouldn't want to do her either." Leaning in as if conspiring, he whispered into his friend ear, "I'd rather do you than her." Thomas choked and gasped, then sputtered into a series of giggles that caused coughing mixed between gasps of air. "Oh man, you wouldn't...!" he barely was able to get out, before catching his friend's eye. He saw a look of both sincerity and amusement behind the look, which made him settle back in a hurry. "You would?" he asked, awed by the thought. "You mean, really?" In the previous months they had learned about the particulars, Thomas having a cousin who had one weekend given up what details he knew. They had giggled hysterically when he passed along what he found out to his friend, and both had agreed - at least at the time - it was just, well weird. But now... Michael scrunched up his nose as he fell back into the seat, waiting until the bus started moving again. Eventually he answered, still smiling. "Only if you wanted to, I mean... I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want to and stuff... I trust you, remember? " The other boy nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I know." He thought about it for a moment, looking out the bus window again, then grinned as he whispered, "I dunno, I might would, maybe – but only if we could both do it though." "Really?" "Yeah, really... I think I'd try anything at least once," he replied grinning, still speaking almost in a whisper so that only the two of them could converse. "Just so long as like I said... you know... you and me, like in both of us do it..." "Yeah, I know. Holy crap!" They both looked at each other before bursting out in giggles. Neither said anything afterwards for a while, instead both watching the scenery roll by outside. The weather had turned considerably warmer as of late, even though there was still a week to go before the official start of spring. That didn't stop the countryside from beginning to green up, though. The mixed days of warm sunshine and rain that blanketed the area was bringing much of the outdoors to life again as it always did for this time of year. Both of them watched in silence until Thomas leaned in to whisper in his once again. "What are you thinking about?" Michael looked at him, raising an eyebrow as he so characteristically did in that cool, calculated way of his. "Do you really, REALLY want to know?" he whispered, grinning wickedly. Puzzled at first by the tone, Thomas figured what the heck, nodding and wondering what was conspiring in his friends head. Michael pulled the jacket tied around his waist looser and casually draped it a little more over his lap. Glancing around, he saw no one was really near enough to pay any attention to them, so he took his friends' hand and pulled it under the cover of his jacket, placing it directly on his crotch. At first Thomas gave a start when he realized what his friend was doing, but after assuring himself by glancing around somewhat, he settled in and very firmly gave the jeans a gentle probing and squeeze as he outlined the hardened shape inside. He could feel his friend's swollen member underneath, and he could have swore it was bigger than before, but figured the layers of cloth and materials probably exaggerated the size. Michael continued to look out the window, but as he lay his head back against the seat, he took his own hand and covered his friends. Pressing down on top so that his friend's fingers would probe harder, it gave him a momentary thrill. Thomas gently squeezed and felt around for a minute or more, but eventually pulled back for fear of getting caught. Still the two made eye contact and exchanged a knowing look. In a low voice, he whispered "Shit man, you're harder than a rock!" When the other just grinned, he laughed. "MMaannn... what you won't do to get me to feel you up!" That brought both of them up laughing out loud this time, and they had to settle back into the seat to recover. Michael grinned, and then laid his head backwards on the seat. "Thomas, can I ask you something?" When the other boy nodded, he continued, in a hushed voice so that only the two of them could hear. "Do you, like, get as horny as I do? I mean, honest?" Thomas grinned then leaned in again to whisper. "Heck yeah, sometimes probably worse!" "Really?" "MM hmmm... Let me ask you something?" When the other nodded, he continued whispering as soft as he could, "Do you like, jack off a lot?" Michael made a face. "Oh, only maybe, I dunno... twice a day?" Thomas sputtered. "You're kidding me, right?" When Michael grinned and shook his head, he grinned back. "Man, that's about how much I do it, too! Except -" He hesitated, thinking about it a moment. "You know, back after everything started happening, I didn't do it for a long time. But then..." "Yeah, I know, and then things started changing again - for better. Same for me Thomas, I didn't do it for a long time then either, and now, it's like I feel horny almost all the time and stuff." "I do too, sometimes. I don't know about you, but I keep hoping we can get together again - you know, without our mom's..." He let the thought trail off their, both boys smiling as they understood what was implied. In the last month or more, they had been getting together a lot more, thanks to their Mom's becoming closer friends. After the Super Bowl game that night, the coming weeks found other "dates" happening with more frequency, some planned while others more of a surprise. At first they seemed to magically meet up in stores and end up going out for dinner afterwards, but then came a night they met at the movies, and still another where they got together and went bowling. The boys had a blast, which both women seem to take some level of satisfaction in. It was getting both Linda and Thomas away from their controlling in-laws, and at the same time it was building a lasting relationship between the mothers that would no doubt endure a lifetime. At one point Michael swallowed hard before returning his gaze outside. They were not far from home now, and only had moments to go. "I know, I wish we could, too..." He paused. "Right now I just want to ... errggg!" He grabbed his own crotch underneath the jacket to squeeze, pushing down inside and giving Thomas a visual idea as to what he meant. The other boy giggled and nodded, then whispered "I know, you done said you wanted to 'F' me, so its GOT to be bad!" Turning again he looked away and added, "Stop, I'm getting horny now, and I've got to get off in a minute! And I can't go out in front of Grams with a boner!" Michael sighed, and then relented. "I'm sorry bro, I guess I shouldn't have started all this..." Thomas kicked him with his free foot, making his friend gasp. Leaning in close again, he whispered "Shut up!" He looked at his friend with a bemused look. "Besides, what do I have to do to get you to feel me up?" Michael grinned wickedly. "Nothing, just say the word is all..." "Good, I'll remember that! So right now shut up and quit feeling sorry before we both get in trouble!" Michael smirked, then sat back and watched as another kid exited the bus. His mood changed though as he sighed, remembering something. "Thomas?" "Hmmm?" "Mom is asking questions again, about yeah, you-know-what..." When the other didn't respond, he scrunched his nose again. "I mean, I promised you I would keep quiet, and I have - honest! I mean, I haven't told her anything, but bro... I don't like lying to her, you know?" He stared at his friend, a hint of frustration seeping through him as he continued. "I can hide the stuff between us, you know that, because that's us, nobody else; but man, this is something that's just bigger Thomas. I don't like lying about something that's hurting you like this, and... and..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Thomas turned his gaze out the window and sat silently for a few moments. He knew what he was asking his best friend to do, and knew inside it had to be tearing at him. "I know Mike, okay? Really, I do. Look, I promise, you can tell her soon, just... Not now, okay?" "But he's hurting you Thomas, I mean, I saw your face this morning..." "I know Mike, but it wasn't THAT bad." Seeing the pleading look, he reached out and grasped his friends' hand, still underneath the edge of the jacket. "Just - not now, okay? I mean, I'm asking you a lot and I know it, but - just not now." He thought about it a second. "I promise you can tell her soon if you want, or if it will make you feel better I'll tell both our moms, okay?" Clearly unhappy, Michael relented as the bus approached Thomas's driveway. "Okay," he half-smiled, which Thomas returned as he stood up and made his way forward. As Michael watched his friend get off the bus, he had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Thomas was beginning to get on the bus more often with those tell-tale red faces, always on one side. Although his friend wouldn't admit it, he suspect that wasn't the only place he was being roughed up either. There had been a few times he caught his friend grimacing when sitting down, or shifting in the bus seat. To Michael, it seemed his friend tried to hide it more and more but with only limited success. Most of the time the red marks on his face would clear within a few minutes, but Michael knew what they really represented. His friend was being slapped and bullied by grandparents who were frustrated, even aggravated, at their daughter-in-laws' new attitude toward them. When Michael asked his friend time and again if anything else was happening, Thomas would only shrugged his shoulders, but it was that action that only further frightened Michael to no end. He couldn't understand why Thomas was holding back, especially when he knew it was wrong. There had to be a reason, so for the present, Michael kept his promise, like it or not. Although he was only thirteen, he had learned a lot in recent months about abuse, and he knew just enough of the basics that he feared his friend was in trouble. Because of the way Thomas's mom was asserting their new independence, their new outings had been met with a mixture of attitudes at home. Michael knew that Thomas was being queried at every chance he got alone with his grandparents, and that was not good. His friend admitted to him that his grandparents kept asking questions, wanting to know where he and his mother disappeared to so much, who was she dating, what were they doing, and other things. Michael sighed as he stood up to get off the bus. He had known Thomas was lying, and normally that might have hurt him but this was one instance he could forgive his friend. He felt Thomas was hiding something he did not want the world to know about yet, and with all the trust they had for one another, Michael figured if Thomas could not tell him about it, then well - he just couldn't tell anyone. He hoped that was the case anyway. It was everything Michael could do to keep from wanting to reach out and try and protect him in some way. He glanced back down the road in the direction of the other boy's house, wishing he could just be sure it really was okay. He couldn't though, and the feeling in his stomach burned even more. Only moments before the two had been talking of things teenage boys get into about girls, other kids, sex and everything - and he was happy for that. He still believed in his friend and it was pretty obvious Thomas felt the same way. If just the uneasiness seeping over him would go away... - + - + - + - Jeremy Riddle had not been to school for almost a week, causing his academics to precariously reach the verge of failing for the year. In the past, he had missed school two or three days at a time, but had miraculously been able to side step the guillotine and catch up in his work. At first the teachers were all resistant, but as the year had progressed they noted something fundamentally changed about the boy: he was actually doing better - much better - in school overall. Certainly not an A-student, but one who once balanced a 'D'-average had suddenly improved to mostly B's, with even an occasional A thrown into the mix. It was because of this marked improvement that the school officials and guidance counselor had let some of the absences slide, instead looking the other way when it came to meeting the state's normal requirements. Jeremy unknowingly helped as well by providing notes supposedly from home or from the doctor's office. They always gave varying reasons for his absence: death in the family, illness or the like. They didn't know, however, that Jeremy was providing the forged paperwork on his own. Once, while actually visiting a health clinic in town years before, Jeremy had quietly lifted one of the clinic's school excuse pads and brought it home. After a little practice, he was able to forge handwriting other than his own. Since that time he had succeeded in convincing school personnel the contents were authentic. Still, this time was a little different than those before. Jeremy had been absent almost the entire week. It still didn't raise too many concerns with the administrative personnel, but had they been more alert the outcome might not have been as alarming. Unknown to them, for the better part of the week Jeremy had been in his bed, practically unable to move. His father had been waiting for him that evening in a black, almost sinister mood, accompanied by his already drunken state. Jeremy had recognized it at once after entering the doorway, having seen it now so many times before. He made a desperate attempt to get away, and almost succeeded. However, the old man had been too quick for him, and as such this time was even more violent than ever before. After being whipped and beaten repeatedly for what the old man claimed was his attempts to run away, the man proceeded as he had done before on many occasions. Only this time, it had hurt - far worse than it ever had before. Jeremy had screamed after the old man unloaded his own seed into the boy as he usually did, but even more so with what happened afterwards. The man not only raped him again, but afterwards brought out some sort of unknown metal object from somewhere. Repeatedly the man rammed the object up and inside Jeremy hard, taking a sadistic pleasure as he ignored the kids' unanswered cries begging to stop. Jeremy was too weakened from the ordeal to fight back as the man continued until he became bored. Then as if the pain and injury wasn't enough, before he finished he rolled the boy over and drove the object hard into his scrotum. After a blood-curling scream, Jeremy passed out unconscious at that point. He lay almost lifeless for two whole days, coming to at times to the stillness of the empty house. When he was finally able to move, he was covered in sweat, and smelled from the stench of urine in the bed covers and mattress - a byproduct of his inability to get to the bathroom. The old man had disappeared during the time without a word, and when Jeremy was finally able to collect his senses, he realized the blessing at having him gone. Although he knew the elder Riddle was probably out on another drinking binge somewhere, it would not last forever. Jeremy had to get out of there, and fast. If the man came back drunk, especially with Jeremy in his weakened state, there was no telling what would happen. So slowly and painfully, he got to his feet. He looked down at the soiled sheets, drenched with the wetness he was leaving behind. Surprisingly, urine was the only thing he had left - that and the blood that trickled between his legs. Steeling himself, he ignored it all as he found some underwear and, after a 10-minute struggle, was able to get them on followed by some ragged pair of jeans. His shirt, already ripped with a jagged hole along the belly from the struggle, took another 5 minutes to shed and be replaced with something more solid. It was the best he trusted himself to do as the pain returned with each movement and step he took making his way out. He slowly made down the hallway, passing the bathroom door, where he paused. He stunk, even to his own standards and he knew it. At the moment though the only thing that occupied his thoughts was that he had to get out of there, had to get away as fast as he could. He had no idea how much time had already passed, but he felt the urgency somewhere within him. His stomach lurched with a sickness as he continued on down the hallway. He had had no food for days now, causing him to stop in a moment of weakness to collect himself yet again when he reached the kitchen. Passing the table he saw an open box of cereal within reach and he grabbed at it, delighted that it was at least half-full. Resting against the far wall, he reached in and withdrew a handful of the sugary-coated flakes and munched them down dry. His reward was a momentary clarity in vision, a sudden surge in strength returning to him. Looking down he saw his tennis shoes and, better than he had expected, he was able slip his foot into each one without much resistance. Turning, he opened the door and stepped through to the outside world, clutching the cereal box in one hand, and a walking stick he picked up outside the door, something the old man had used often when he trekked across the farm on foot. Jeremy started across the yard, noticing the sun was still high in the evening sky. His steps were slow, but steady, the pain between his legs searing at times, but at least manageable for the moment. He felt the warmness between his thighs, and he already knew from previous experience it was from the sweat and dried blood that was seeping there. It did not stop him though as he continued moving forward. He knew where he had to go, where his only hope of refuge would be that the old man had yet to discover. He only hoped he could make it. With each step he took, it moved him farther away from the hellish nightmare of his home. Somehow, he was determined it would no longer be called that to him. He would rather die than ever return... - + - + - + - Michael cruised down the road, sliding through the wind at a relaxing speed. He sat upright on the old bicycle, letting the breeze flow and cut across him, flapping his lightweight jacket by his sides. It smelled good, the air fresh cool but not so cool as to keep anyone from enjoying the outdoors. It was only his third time this year that he was able to get out on his bike, the days of March slowly reaching a level of warmth that foretold of the spring that was coming. He had already met Thomas once, both of them sharing in the elation of being able to get away from home. They had ridden all over the nearby countryside, exploring places where the scenery was coming alive. He had wished they could do it again this day, but a dental appointment or something as such prevented Thomas from joining him. After Michael arrived home, he knew his mother would be an hour or more getting in. After a quick snack, he left her a note saying he was just going to ride around the neighborhood and back. Then pulling his bike from the backyard shed, he took off over the rise toward the roadway. His mother had warned him earlier that month she would let him loose, provided he was at his utmost care in watching for traffic. It both surprised and thrilled Michael the trust she was putting in him now. She told him as long as he stayed on the back roads in the country he would be safe, but made him promise to always have someone know where he was. It simply boiled down to if he was ever out, she didn't want to have to worry about him. And of course, the last requirement was one to be used of his best judgment: he needed to be with a friend. That was one message she made plain as day - with an intended smile. He knew this was another attempt at the ladies trying to get the boys together, and the result was great as far as they were concerned. That night naturally erupted into more hugs and whoops of laughter again. Michael continued down the road, free from the thoughts and pressures of the day. He pumped first one and then the other, each leg carrying him faster across the blacktop. He topped a rise and started down the other side at a clip that gave his stomach a momentary tingle from the free fall. There were no cars, no trucks or other vehicles to interrupt his journey, and in the quietness he felt a thrill of victory. It was him and the world right now, with no one to judge or interrupt him; it was freedom only disturbed by the sound of the air as it rushed by him. After some distance he slowed down, hesitating and thinking about where he was. Although not a great distance from home, he had traveled farther than he had thought he would, and in the end he reached a curve in the road and stopped. He began feeling a little guilty for not paying better attention to where he was, especially since he was alone. With a huge sigh he took one long look at the road ahead, and then relented to the idea that traversing its length would have to wait for another day. Balancing himself carefully, he turned his bike to head back in the other direction, pausing in the shade of a roadside tree to gaze back along the route he had just taken. He recognized it was not as bad as he feared; in the distance he could see the top of Thomas's house, so he felt a little better. He happened to glance to the right at that moment, and he noticed in the distance the old Stephenson place, run down and abandoned for years. He and Thomas had visited the weekend before on their first trip out together, turning up the gravel driveway that led several hundred feet off the main road. It had looked eerie to them both late that evening, even almost spooky-like. They rode around the yard a short distance before leaving it, wondering about it and leaving Thomas determined to ask his grandparents about it later. What made Michael pause, however, was that he noticed even from this distance that the front door was open. 'That's odd,' he thought, distinctly remembering in their earlier visit how Thomas had tried to open the door but instead found it boarded up. The door had been painted a stark white in color as well, which made it plainly visible at any distance in the way it contrast the rest of the house. With curiosity getting the better of him, Michael started moving again and turned into the driveway. He moved slowly, hesitating as drew closer to the old house, unsure why he was actually doing this other than for some reason he felt like he was being drawn in. The farther traversed the long expanse he began to feel uneasy, uncertainty crossing his path more than once. At the head of the driveway just short of entering the yard, he stopped and paused to look for any signs of movement. The rest of the house looked just as deserted as before. Silently cursing himself for not being able to hear better than he did, he dropped his bike in the yard and slowly moved toward the open doorway. A rustle from a nearby bush made him jump, nearly frightening him out of his skin as a bird emerged and flew off. His heart pounding again in his ears, he again stopped to catch his breath and calm down, watching and listen for any sign of activity inside. It seemed nothing had changed, so he slowly made his way onto the porch and took his first step across the wooden planks beneath his feet. He peered inside and saw a ramshackle room. The walls were mixed with old, peeling wallpaper and faded paint. A fireplace at the far end of the room was soot covered and mired in filth. The floor, like the porch, was comprised of planks that had seen better days, but surprisingly looked fairly sturdy. He could see an inner doorway that led into what appeared to be a hallway inside, and looking down he froze in his tracks: there in the dust of the floor were clear signs of footsteps. Again straining his ears, he could hear no sounds coming from within. He was just about to reconcile the fact he was being jittery for nothing when he heard a very soft, low-pitched moan. His stomach filled with butterflies yet again, instantly propelling an uneasy fear deeper into his gut. His imagination played with all sorts of scenarios, least of was that of someone hurt, running from the law r worse. While a part of him screamed to get out of there, he still hesitated, thinking he may have been mistaken until it came forth yet again. From somewhere deeper in the house came a definite moan, this time carrying a tone that was unmistakable: someone seemed hurt. He cautiously crossed the floor of the room, surprised that the boards did not give him way. Looking at his feet he saw the dust scatter as each step disturbed it, mixing with the other staggered steps before him. He reached the hallway and first left, seeing another bare room that had once been a kitchen. Turning his head right, he saw the hallway was short, emptying at the end to three doorways on each side. He tiptoed forward and peered into one of them, finding nothing out of the ordinary than the other rooms. He stopped yet again when he heard it once more, and this time he followed the sound into the room breaking off his right. Fear gripped him by the throat and heart, his chest pounding loudly as at first he froze, then slowly stepped to the doorway. With an audibly gasp, he looked about the room and the sight that lay before him. A single window to the outside world lit up the interior, revealing a figure sprawled on what looked to be an old coat. As Michael peered closer, he suddenly realized who that figure belonged to and, seeing nothing else in the room remotely disturbing, he hurriedly crossed the few feet that separated them until he could kneel down next to Jeremy Riddle. The older boy looked battered and bruised, curled into a fetal position on his side and holding his knees tightly to his chest. His eyes were closed, his face taught, with his teeth chattering unevenly. His face was pale, and his whole body reeked of an odd odor, one which Michael identified after only seconds. Glancing down, mostly because his curiosity wanted some affirmation of the fact, he could see the boys jeans were soaked in the crotch. He peered closer until he realized it was not just filled with piss, but also of a darkened stain that Michael recognized only too well. Michael tried to gently press the boy onto his back, out of his fetal position. "Jeremy?" he intoned softly when he felt resistance beneath his hands. Jeremy opened his eyes, startled fear behind them as he looked wildly about before settling upon Michaels figure kneeling before him. As he focused and realized who it was, a look of comprehension crossed his face and, upon seeing it, Michael tried again to get the boy to roll onto his back. Slowly and painfully, the bigger boy complied, watching Michaels face intently. As his face came into more direct lighting from the window, Michael realized in an instant that the other kid was in worse shape than he suspected. Very carefully he started to run his hands around Jeremy's torso, trying to examine what he could. Holding up the loose shirt, he peered at Jeremy's belly and upper chest and saw stains, but not anything of major consequence. Glancing at Jeremy first before he did it, Michael actually felt lower from the bigger boys' waistline, slipping a couple of fingers inside the waistband of the jeans and pulling them up and outward. A fresh wave of odor from both dried urine and blood reached his nostrils. The feel of the pants were soaked, and as he peered at just the top of the area he saw a deep discoloration that had been left behind. "W-what a-are y-you do-doing here? Wh-where did y-you come f-from?" The voice was cracked and strained, the teeth chattering at times, and as Michael felt throughout the others body, he realized the fever that was there. Michael shook his head, "I'll tell you later, right now it doesn't matter." He removed his jacket and used it to cover the older boy's mid-section. He began running his hands up and down Jeremy's arms, using the friction to try and warm the other kid somewhat. he was unsure what to do other than the fact he knew when one had a fever, it usually made them feel cold. He wasn't sure, but he thought it was a good possibility Jeremy might also be suffering in mild shock. With his jacket removed, it dawned on him how chilled it was in the room. He looked at the boy, but knew he would never be able to move the bigger kid on his own. "Jeremy, I have to get help," he said slowly. "Do you understand me - I have to get you help! I'll go get your Dad, okay?" At once a vice-like grip flew out from under underneath and gripped Michaels' arm. He was surprised at the strength displayed, but even more at the cold rage that was now clearly placed in the older boys' face. A single word escaped his lips, soft but firm - with no question as to its finality. "No." Michael hesitated, thinking about the situation. "Jeremy, I... we..." Seeing the other figure still chattering from the cold, he slowly nodded, acknowledging somewhere in the back of his mind that perhaps 'home' was exactly what Jeremy needed to avoid. He wanted to ask what had happened, had hundreds of questions racking up in his mind, but Michael knew there were more pressing things that need to be done. "Listen, you're freezing, and you're probably not far from shock if you're not already in it, okay? Do you understand me?" When the other boy slowly nodded, he continued. "I- I don't know how to get you warm unless I- Unless I can get you outside. How bad are you hurt, can you walk any? Any at all?" At first Jeremy just looked back at the younger boy, and the expression changed to one of uncertainty. He finally, albeit slowly, nodded and whispered "If... if y-you h-help me... I- I'll t-try..." Michael nodded, climbing to his feet and carefully bending over to help the older boy. Jeremy slowly rolled to his side and positioned himself on his knees with Michael's help. The drawing his feet up underneath him, he painfully stood up. His face winced in the pain he felt, but the pressure from the other boys' hands and body seemed to renew the strength within him somewhat. With a great deal of difficulty, the both of them worked until Jeremy stood steady. Michael immediately saw Riddles jeans begin slipping to the floor, and as such propped the boy against the wall while he removed his own belt. Although the older boy was bigger, Michaels' belt happened to be slightly larger than normal, so he easily worked it through the loops of the other's jeans and closed it up for him. With that task accomplished, bit boys work their way into the hall with Jeremy leaning heavily, taking small steps at first but eventually lengthening his stride to a better pace. Michael watched with alarm at how the older kid walked and swayed, realizing something was drastically wrong. When Jeremy shuffled through the doorway, he kept his knees closed together at times, and on occasion Michael detected the boy was struggling to keep from crying out in pain. As they crossed the living room though, the older boy began to do somewhat better, having shaken the stiffness and weakness he had been nurturing before. When they reached the door to the outside, both paused as Jeremy stopped to catch his breath, then stepped forward onto the porch and eventually out into the yard. "D-do you h-have anything to e-eat?" the halting voice beside him spoke. It occurred to Michael he had not seen the older boy in school all week, and parts of the puzzle were beginning to form an unpleasant picture in his mind. He silently helped the kid over to a nearby post and leaned him against it before searching through his jacket pockets dwarfed still over the boys' shoulders. Thankfully the sun was as warm as he remembered it, and the breeze was relatively still at the moment. Jeremy stretched as tall as he could stand and faced it, soaking in the rays as Michael found what he was looking for. "Eat this Jermz," he told the kid, peeling the paper back on a candy bar and shoving it into the other boy's hand. Remaining by his side, he helped keep the older boy steady while he watched him gulp the nourishment. "What the hell happened to you, man?" he asked tentatively. Riddle, his eyes still closed, only shook his head. "You d-don't w-want to know." Michael let go a deep breath. "You have to tell me at least one thing, okay? At least, you've got to try and trust me." Looking the other squarely in the eyes, he watched for any signs of deceptiveness as he voiced the strongest question on his mind: "Did your Dad do this to you?" Jeremy opened his eyes to stare at the other. He did not want to answer this question, for whatever else there was in the world, this was his private hell and he knew it. Never before had he opened up to a single person about his home life, afraid if he ever did it would again open up the torment and wrath he had already faced. Yet something about this kid - something about him emanated a different presence. He had no idea why, but he realized for a moment that all throughout the year, he had been around Michael at different times, and the boy did not treat him as most did. When most people cowered away or kissed ass to get into his inner circle, this kid remained just outside, neutral to the world around him. It was a good thing for the most part, but what made it even more profound was the Michael treated him also with a certain amount of respect. Why, he did not know, but for some reason it made him feel something. In his weakened state, he could not argue out of the fact even if he wanted to. Only 2 years or so separated them both in age, but somehow he felt the younger kid could have been on the same level as he was all their lives. Before answering he got to thinking back to a time when there was one other kid he had almost broke down, had almost trusted once. He thought of Austin Mathews, and how that kid had always stuck by his side through the best and worst of it all. If anyone had ever come close to being a true friend, it had been him - at least until things changed yet again. Then Jeremy had been afraid to trust him, to let him inside his world any. It seemed everyone he let get close to him ended up being destroyed or cut down in some way. People like his mother, many years before; the counselors, whom ended up mocking him; the case handlers, who betrayed him and called him a liar. Even the school guidance counselor, who ended up scoffing at him, accusing him of just wanting to stir up trouble with a series of fabricated tales. Worst of all, the one person he never wanted to tell turned out to be the one he was forced with, and the ensuing years of mistreatment told the story all for itself. When he looked at the younger kid before him now, something stirred inside. He was tired - tired of having to hide, tired of even living anymore. Still, he wasn't suicidal; he could not bring himself to face the fact he was at the end of the game even now. He was just tired of the game, tired of having to face everything alone anymore, no matter the fact of the people he was trying to protect, trying to hide. Jeremy felt he was dead to the world anyway, his life around him having been altered so much in the last year or so. That was what created the empathic feelings within him the most, had made him start trying to change. Now he felt he had nowhere else to go. He was weak, both physically and emotionally, and the kid in front of him was honest, seemingly good. As he studied Michael, he thought to himself how cool it would have been to have lived at least in a loving household, for someone to actually take care of you as he had seen so many times. He couldn't blame him, couldn't be mad at him or pick on him for that fact. He would have given anything to be just like him, or at least have that kind of a safe haven to wrap around him, even if for just a little while. "Jeremy?" The voice cut through his thoughts as he came back to the present. Michael was still waiting patiently before him, and as he focused on the younger kid once again, he heard the question followed softly with a simple phrase, "Trust me, tell me..." Jeremy smiled. He did trust his kid, although he did not know why. A tear escaped his eye, something Jeremy would have not thought possible, having shed so many over the last few days. He slowly nodded his head, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally replied. "Yes, my Dad did this." Michael had already expected the answer, but hearing it still caused him to audibly gasp in shock. Thinking quickly he looked around. "Jeremy, you're hurt man, I mean you're really, really hurt! We have to get you out of here before the sun goes down. We've got to get you some help!" Looking around, he took stock of where they were. After looking at his wristwatch, he came to a decision. "I can't leave you man, I would be to scared too, but I can't carry you either, not even on my bike. Your pants look like they have blood soaked in them, and I know you can't sit too good." He looked the other in the eye. "The only thing I can think of isn't great man, but... do you think you can walk a little?" "Where?" Jeremy replied, his eyes closing and then opening again. Michael pointed over a rise. "Um, that way I think. It's a little hill, but on the other side it goes down into Thomas's back yard. It'll cut the distance in half than us going down to the road and up. And the road, that wouldn't be good if we're trying to avoid your Dad, if he's out looking for you anywhere. Does that make sense? You think you can walk that way if I help you?" In answer, Jeremy slowly righted himself and stepped away from the post, pulling Michael up close. He caught a whiff of odor from himself as the other boy clung to him close, steadying him until they started walking. "Sorry I stink so bad man," he whispered. Michael giggled. "Man, if that's the worst I have to put up with, you got it made." He got serious. "Jeremy? This isn't going to be easy man, don't think I don't know it, okay? Just... try, we'll go a little ways and take a break or something, just lean on me man, we got to get you out of here..." Jeremy just nodded, conserving his strength for the journey ahead. - + - + - + - Thomas had been home all of only 15 minutes when he heard a faint shout from somewhere that sounded like his name. Annoyed, at first he thought one of his grandparents was calling for him. "Can't they leave me alone even long enough to change my damn clothes?" he said to himself. They always wanted this or that, too lazy to get off their butts and get anything for themselves. Or so he felt anyway. He finished pulling a fresh t-shirt over his head when he heard the noise a second time, but this time it made him pause. It wasn't from inside the house, he was sure, and as he turned and looked out his bedroom window, he could see two figures slowly entering the back yard. He ran from his bedroom door as he recognized who one of the figures was, tearing through the house to get outside in his sock feet. He rounded the corner of the house, ignoring his grandmother screaming after him, arriving to find none other than Michael and Jeremy Riddle collapsed against the side of the house. The sun was beginning to lower over the horizon, casting a late afternoon eeriness around them. Thomas dropped down on all fours in front of his friend first, frantically inquiring. "Mike? Mike! What's going on? What's wrong?" He peered at the other, older boy and noted that he seemed exhausted, his eyes closed, and much of the color drained from his face. It took Michael a few seconds to catch his breath. The walk had been excruciatingly slow and painful for them both. It was painful for Riddle because of his weakened state, and painful for Michael because he had to bear so much of the others weight to get him this far. Between gasping breaths, he turned to his friend. "Is- Is your mother h-here? We- we need your Mom Thomas - please?" Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Thomas scrambled to his feet and ran at once back around the corner of the house. He almost collided headlong into his mother, who had been coming outside to see what all the fuss was about from her mother-in-law. Realizing who she was, he grabbed her hand and started pulling. "Mom! Come, quick!" All thoughts of admonishment were set aside as she hurried at her sons' urgency. As they approached, she saw the two boys lying next to each other, both obviously exhausted in the way they had collapsed. She went first to Michael, kneeling down in front of him and giving him a cursory review. Michael, opening his eyes and seeing the older woman, was silently thankful it wasn't one of the elderly grandparents. "Mam... Jeremy... He's hurt... We got to get him help..." Startled, she turned to the other kid and saw in an instant the seriousness of the situation. Biting her tongue from questions that came to mind, she turned to her son. "Get your shoes and grab my purse and keys. Meet me at the car, now go!" Thomas was gone in a flash. The woman moved to put herself next to Riddle, sliding her arms underneath the boys' knees and back. With a huge grunt and effort, she lifted the kid whole into her arms. Staggering to gain her balance at first, she slowly but deliberately carried the older boy toward the front of the house, showing surprising strength and determinedness. In moments she returned to find Michael had regained his breath and was climbing to his feet. Putting an arm underneath him, she helped him walk as well until they were quickly joined by Thomas. With one on each side helping him move, they headed for the front yard. When Michael got to the car, he saw Jeremy already sitting lopsided in the back seat. He quickly joined the boy, scooting close and pulling him in an effort to rest against himself, providing as much support as possible. Thomas and his mother hurriedly climbed into the front seat. In the distance, all three of them could hear Thomas's grandparents shrieking and telling them to stop. Linda ignored them, knowing it would cost precious minutes to stop and explain everything to their satisfaction. She maneuvered the vehicle out onto the roadway and started heading toward town. "Michael? Quick - will Carolyn be home by now?" He checked his watch. "Yes Mam, she should be," he answered. Nothing more was said, although Thomas continued to turn and stare at both figures in the back seat, his eyes full of questions. Michael smiled at him and subtly shook his head, begging his friend to wait. Thomas smiled back, acknowledging at least that got the message and remained quiet. A moment later the jeep made a rough turn into Michael driveway and then bounced its way over the rise toward his house, shaking all of the occupants inside. When they topped the ridge, Michael saw his mother outside near their car. As they pulled up, Carolyn rushed to the window before sighing with relief at seeing her son. "Michael! You scared me half to death young man -" "Mom! I'm okay, honest, but we need help!" Michael's plea met her full force, and Carolyn immediately stopped, realizing something more was going on. Seeing her son supporting and steadying a boy who looked half dead in the seat beside him caused her to run around and open the door on the opposite side. Without a word she reached in and took hold of Jeremy's hand, feeling his wrist for a pulse. She gave the boy a cursory examination before speaking out loud. "He has a high fever, pulse is thread-y at best, and he's sweating profusely." Looking at the others briefly she commanded, "Wait here." Withdrawing from the vehicle, she ran into the house and returned in only seconds, pulling the door closed and carrying both her purse and a blanket Michael recognized as having been on the couch. Entered the back seat as fast as she could, closing the door behind her she addressed Linda with a single word: "Drive!" Without hesitation, the other woman put the vehicle in reverse and they began working their way toward the road. Carolyn spread the heavy blanket over the boy, scooting in close and sandwiching Jeremy between them. "Sit close Mike, he needs warmth now no matter how bad he smells." With that Michael got as close as he could, taking Jeremy's hand and arm underneath the blanket and holding it with his own, trying to transfer what body heat he could. In the past Michael had encountered some times when he felt cold, and he remembered the things his mother did for him to warm him up. They drove quickly on the back roads until they reached the main highway, at which Linda called out to everyone, "Make sure your seat belts are on!" She quickly accelerated and they flew rapidly toward town. From time to time, Carolyn was rubbing Jeremy's arms and chaffing him, speaking in low tones as she held him. "Stay with us now, kiddo - don't give in... stay with us..." Michael now, for the first time, was getting scared for Jeremy. Seeing his mother in the state of alertness she was in made it all the more imperative they get to help as soon as they could. Michael also began feeling sick in the pit of his stomach as he starting thinking about their trek across the field. Maybe it hadn't been such a great idea after all. He looked at Jeremy and saw what looked like lifelessness, the boy now literally unconscious. It had been much farther than he had anticipated, and the walk had been exhausting. Maybe he should have left him and went for help, but he had been afraid to do that. Did he make a mistake, one that might cost Jeremy something more than he needed right now? While Linda drove straight through to the other side of town, she did so at an alarming speed. Michael wanted to tell them a part of what had happened, but found himself unable to do so being caught up in the moment as he was. No one pushed him, however, as they swerved precariously in places to get around other vehicles and maneuver through traffic. At the rate they were traveling, it was only minutes before Linda finally slowed and pulled into the emergency wing of the hospital, and up behind an ambulance parked already at the entrance. Putting the vehicle in park, she saw two paramedics who happen to be closing the other vehicle up to leave. Motioning them to come quickly, they approached and the three adults were suddenly at Michael's side opening the door. He carefully extracted himself so that the others could get access to Jeremy, and stood just outside watching as they gave the kid a cursory examination. One of the paramedics rushed away, returning only seconds later with a gurney, and with the help of his partner they moved the sick kid onto the stretcher. Carolyn remained at Jeremy's side throughout the ordeal and headed inside with a rush. Linda sighed as Thomas joined Michael at his side and told the boys to wait there for a moment. Getting back into the vehicle, she backed away and found a nearby parking place before exiting and rejoining them. She put an arm around each of the boys' shoulders and the three of them went inside. The emergency ward had few people in that day, and upon entering the waiting area they found it almost empty. Crossing to the vending machines, Linda procured what change she could scrap up and then purchased each boy a soda and a bag of chips to share and snack on. She then guided them to a remote corner of the room and eased them into the empty chairs situated there. "Drink this," she said softly, handing the soda to Michael and waiting until he popped the top and had swallowed a few gulps of the liquid. Although lacking in nutritional value, it paid a proper respect to his sudden desire for it, realizing how parched his throat had become. Linda patiently allowed the boy a brief respite, watching as her son sat down close to his friend in silence, and they both waited until Michael was better prepared. Kneeling in the floor in front of him, she spoke firmly but with a softness that exuded kindness. "Now, start from the beginning and tell me what happened. How did you find him? Where did you find him? Who is he?" Taking a deep breath, Michael poured out everything he could think of. He spoke of getting on the bike and riding, where he got to and how he noticed the old house and had ridden down the driveway. He told of finding Jeremy inside, and of the shape he was in, and how he had come to the decision he had to get the kid out of there. When Linda interrupted, inquiring why he had not just simply gone for help, Michael explained it was in part because he was afraid to leave the bigger kid alone, but also in part because Jeremy had held him steadfast. When he explained the remarks about the older boys' Dad, Linda drew in a sharp breath, becoming extremely interested at hearing that. Still, she waited until Michael finished at how they decided to try and cross the field. She sat back for a moment and considered. Although the distance wasn't really as great as one might have thought, it was still considerable for someone to be in as bad of shape as the boy was. Yes, that probably contributed to an already weakened state, she thought, and thus began to understand some of what was happening. Looking at the two boys, she smiled as reassuringly as she could, then rose to her feet. She had to let them know about this, and afterwards she knew what else she had to do. She had to find her boss... - + - + - + - Austin Mathews walked through the doors at the front of the hospital, entering no differently than he had each day for the past two weeks. Barely glancing left or right, the boy walked toward the back of the room and over to the elevator doors that stood there. He had just gotten a fresh haircut, and he looked surprisingly respectable for a change compared to his usual choice of clothes. Sporting a new pair of jeans, a bright yellow polo shirt and a new pair tennis shoes given to him by his parents, he looked entirely different. Gone were the rough edges to him, at least for the moment. As he walked, he felt a heaviness bearing down on his shoulders, a feeling he thought he would have been used to by now given the time that had passed. Sighing, he waited until the elevator doors opened before entering and pressing the button to go up. Exiting on the fourth floor, he turned right and went down a fairly long, dimly lit abandoned hallway until he approached two double doors at the end. Moving to the side, he lightly punched the call button on the intercom hanging on the side wall. "Yes?" a faint, feminine voice announced from the small speaker. "Umm, this is Austin Mathews mam, I'd like to see my brother please? Kevin Mathews?" "Just a moment," came an automated, almost mechanical reply. Within seconds he heard the familiar buzz coming from the doors, so he reached for the handle and pulled back as the lock released, opening into yet another hallway beyond. He entered as the doors automatically closed behind him and began walking to his right. The walls here were just as blank and devoid of features as the one he had just came from, other than at least here there were doors that opened to patient rooms. A passing nurse smiled at him, making him smile in return. It did nothing to ease the tension in his stomach though as reached the end of the hallway and stopped at the last door. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he slowly opened the door only part of the way to peer inside as unobtrusively as he could. "It's open," he heard a voice speak from inside, so he thus continued to push until he could enter and close it behind him. As he turned towards the bed in the room, he suddenly smiled. There was Kevin, actually sitting up for a change with his knees drawn to his chest, his arms encircling and holding them. The windowed room was dimly lit, giving the late hour of the evening, but not so much that its features escaped him. Austin saw the restraints had been removed - the first of many positive signs in fact that things were changing. Nearby a tray containing a pitcher of water and a cup sat ready, as well as a box of tissues. As Austin drew nearer, he noticed the garbage can at the head of the bed was filled with them, and upon inspection he noticed his brother's eyes were puffed as if he had been crying for a while. Austin sat at the foot of the bed, trying to sound casual. "How's it going Kev?" he asked quietly. His younger brother shrugged his shoulders at first, and then turned to gaze into his brothers eyes. "Why do you even come here?" he asked. Austin smiled. "Because you're my brother, that's why." "So?" There was a level of frustration, even defiance in the younger man's voice. "I'm just a reject, a pot-head now. You don't need to be around me anymore." "Who says?" returned a soft reply from the older brother. He sighed, but kept the smile on his face sincere. "You want to disown me or something?" Kevin scoffed. "I figured you would disown me." Austin giggled. "No way. You're stuck with me for life." Kevin, however, wasn't buying the lighter mood. He stared out the window at the sunset just beyond its reach, sitting quietly for a moment. "You really should though. Disown me, I mean." Then in an almost whisper, he added, "I'm sorry man, I'm really sorry." Tears were in his eyes again, uncontrollably leaking and trailing down his cheeks. Austin was so moved by the scene he let out another sigh of relief before getting up and closing the distance between them. He sat down next to his brother and embraced him, holding him close. Kevin lost it at that point and could not avoid letting go, and the heart wrenching sobs that escaped actually made his older brother tear up as well. The two never had the best of track records as far as brothers went, each living in their own world apart from the other. Although both their parents had tried countless times to try and get the two to make amends, it had been thus that way for years. It wasn't for lack of effort, not on Austin's part at least. He had tried a few times to bury the seemingly invisible hatchet between them several times but with no success. Between his hanging within Riddle's circle of friends, and Kevin building and hanging with his own gang, the two of them just didn't seem to hit it off anywhere. That is, until Austin found out what his little brothers gang was doing. That day in the hallway he had been ready to pound on Riddle, that is until he felt something being shoved inside his pocket. Riddle had warned him, told him cryptically he had done it to save the younger boy, that his brother was about to be caught. For some reason he let him get away before demanding more details, that is until he actually stuck his hand and found what was in his pocket. Finding the bag of weed had made him stop short, and all the pieces had fallen in place. That discovery had changed things dramatically, but ti was not that even that drove him now. Instead it was later, after Jeremy got on the bus and found his brother had already went home earlier for some reason. The bus ride ahead made Austin test his patience ten-fold, keeping his temper in check until he arrived home. Kevin was already in enough trouble - discovery of that bag would have not only suspended him, but could have very well expelled him for the rest of the school year. Austin wanted so bad to get home and kick some sense into the little guy before things got any worse. At one point he paused and wondered how the kid had even gotten home early to start with. They didn't live far from the school, but yet it would taken a considerable effort to get away early. Unlike other times in the past, when one got out early so did the other, and that puzzled him. He sighed to himself, thinking there would be more than one question to answer when he got the kid before him. Austin stepped off the bus and entered the house, calling aloud but hearing no answer. Annoyed he went up the hallway to the little buggers room, finding the door closed. He opened it and peered inside before catching his breath at the site before him. On the bed, the brat was stretched out and shirtless, murmuring to himself. His eyes were closed and his whole body seemed to be convulsing, shaking uncontrollably. "Kevin!" Austin rushed to the bed side and barely noticed a needle laying there in time to keep from unintentionally sticking himself. He attempted to revive his brother but when he would not wake or respond, he immediately called 911. That fateful call changed all their lives completely. At times Austin could not help but feel an incredible burden on his shoulders for one reason or another. The drugs his brother had gotten hold of appeared to be very bad stuff, and he had come to within an inch of losing his life that afternoon. Had Austin not arrived when he did, then... When he thought back about that day, he could only really thank one person for it all. If Jeremy had not set him onto what was happening, if Austin had not opened his eyes in as much fright as was there at that moment, he may have never even bothered to check on the kid. Their usual thing was to not typically go home on most Friday afternoons. Instead they would run around with friends or something similar for hours at a time since both their parents usually worked late. If Austin had not been upset, had not been *needing* to find his brother right then and there, it was very likely he would have been found too late. Since then, Austin had taken a hard look at his life. It was one thing to bully the kids around at school, even drink an occasional beer when they could get it - but drugs were a whole different story. Their parents had drilled into them hard, preaching about the adverse consequences drugs had on people. Since before kindergarten, they had had went to the extremes to not only verbally educate their kids, but show them firsthand the results of people who got involved with them. Both he and his brother had visited the clinics and places where drug addicts dried out and rehabilitated, and at a young age he had been frightened at what he had seen. As he grew older, Austin also saw the effects first hand on some of their closest friends; it had built a natural disgust within him to stay free of the stuff, and he thought it had done the same for his brother. He was wrong, but even more so, it was his failure to see it that really hit home. The counselors that grilled him, his parents and social workers, all had asked a multitude of questions that revealed the signs were there. Austin had only failed to realize and understand it. That ignorance and inaction had almost cost his brother his life. Austin shivered, a tear dropping from his own eyes onto the thin hospital gown that partially wrapped around his little brother. They both sobbed quietly now, something Austin was so unused to. It felt weird to him, aside from the girls he had held and even groped with before. Here was his own flesh and blood, but holding the kid felt awkward to him because they had so rarely done it before. As he engulfed him however, Austin found he needed it in so many ways. For the better part of the two weeks, he had spent most of his time trying to convince his parents and everyone involved he was clean and had never touched the stuff. He remember the look on his mothers face when just days before he finally saw the relief there, the belief, and how she had hugged him so tightly afterwards. He had took the tests, more than once, to exonerate himself but the end meant so much more knowing - no, *feeling* - he had re-earned his parents trust yet again. Austin needed that hug for another reason too, though. He felt he had failed his brother, and it had become hard for him to see himself again as ever living up to the standards he need to be now: a big brother for Kevin. The first few days Kevin fought them all, displaying an unconventional rage whenever Austin was around, shouting obscenities and curses that struck deep. Part of it was the after effects of the treatment, the "drying out" so to speak; but also part of it was a rage of denial and contempt. Austin had never imagined life being so hard, so impassive as to drive Kevin to do drugs to begin with, yet there was living proof of the nightmare his brother was having to deal with, and the bitterness at having felt betrayed. Only two days before had Kevin finally quieted. As he had done each day, Austin continued to visit, even if only briefly, to try and talk and explain to his brother, to apologize for not being the kind of brother he should have been. Most days he couldn't even get close with Kevin boiling into a rage of hatred, driving the older sibling away. He had begun holding up however, and for the better part of those two days he had just sat and ignored anyone who visited him. Before that Austin had wanted to give up trying to visit, partially because of how it was wrenching his heart apart, partly for Kevin's sake to help him stay calm. The counselors convinced him otherwise though; even just a brief appearance, as often as he could, would go a long way in helping with the emotional recovery his brother was going to face. How true it had proven to be. Right now, he was holding his brother tight, and he actually felt his some of his own emotional tension begin to seep away. They remained there, giving in to the thing boys just didn't do in his eyes. He was learning though, that sometimes it didn't matter, sometimes you just had to do it. It was some time before both quieted and Austin could finally pull his head back and whisper into his brother's ear. "I mean that Kev, you're stuck with me, no matter what... as long as you'll forgive me for doing what I had to do." That brought a fresh round of sobs from the smaller of the two as he responded by hugging tighter. Nothing more was said between them, and eventually the sun began to disappear. As nightfall settled in, Kevin lay back on the bed, falling asleep in his brothers' arms. The hospital gown had crept up, exposing the nakedness of his brother underneath, but instead of smirking at the site, Austin just gazed at the reality that his brother was still young, and thankfully still had a life ahead of him. He gently reached down and fixed the gown, hiding the exposed groin and belly before pulling up the sheet and blanket to keep him warm. Kicking off his shoes, Austin stretched out by his side, holding him as if for the very first time. Knowing their parents would be along in a little while, he thought he would just stay and keep his little brother company. His last thoughts however, before he closed his eyes, were not of the younger Mathews. Instead, they were of another boy he knew he was going to have to thank, in a big way, for saving not only his brother's life, but perhaps his life too... - + - + - + - Stan had just come from one of the rooms off the lobby, looking to turn in his visitors badge at the nurses' station. Looking across the still nearly empty waiting room, the driver was surprised to see two familiar young gentlemen sitting in the corner, seemingly staring out the window overlooking the parking lot. Crossing the distance, he walked up to them smiling. "Hey thar, what brings you two boys here in a place like dis?" Both Thomas and Michael looked at each other as they jumped to their feet. Taking turns, they filled the older man in on what had transpired thus far, dispelling everything they knew. As he listened the driver shook his head, a worried expression crossing his features. "I shoulda known..." He sat mostly silent, interrupting very little other than to clarify some obscure point. He sat for a moment as they finished, thinking about something before he letting go a low whistle. "You got him all the way from the old Stephenson place across THAT field?" "To Thomas's house, yeah," came Michael's reply. Stan grunted, obviously impressed. "Yeah, I bet that was a journey all right. That's a long ways young man, and that Riddle kid he ain't no small critter either!" Michael cringed at those words, sitting back again. "I know, but... I just didn't know what else to do, he wouldn't let me go get help." He felt the words were weak; just an excuse to justify something that he was no longer convinced was the right thing to do. His voice dispelled the disquiet and fear that had been crossing him as he continued. "I just hope I didn't do the wrong thing Stan, I mean, he was bad - he was really bad when I finally got him Thomas's house." The driver gazed down upon the boy, kindness in his eyes as he observed the unease in the young man. "Now, you'se listen to me. You probably did just fine Michael. I don't think a lot of kids would have had the nerve to do what that to start with. Yeah, it may have been hard on the two of you, but Riddle, he's a tough kid - tougher than most any of em I ever known, you hear me?" Michael stopped to think about that before finally nodding. Thomas had been silent the whole time with no idea what to say to his friend, so instead he just sat back and leaned into him. It was a small gesture, almost unnoticeable except for the fact it did provide some comfort, making Michael smile probably for the first time that evening. So far Michael had carried this burden of helplessness on his own shoulders, and Thomas understood it although his own feelings were mixed. Regardless of what Jeremy's past actions and reputation was, Thomas had to acknowledge what Michael had been telling him all along: something had changed. He only wished now he had listened sooner. He sighed as he glanced out the window yet again. "Why does it take so long?" he asked to no one in particular. Stan only grunted. "It's a hospital young'en. They ain't known for speed here, but sometimes, sometimes..." His voice trailed off for a second before finishing. "Heh, sometimes it just takes a body time to heal, too." The man settled back in a nearby seat. He had nothing to do that night, so he decided to keep the boys company for a little while. And help them wait... - + - + - + - When Austin Mathew's parents arrived at the hospital that evening, they opened the door to a startling site. There stretched upon the bed was not just one son, but both. Each had a serene expression about them, and at once they knew that somehow the two had finally been able to sit for a while, to talk without fighting. As they entered the room, Kevin was the first to open his eyes and, upon seeing his mother smiled at her knowingly. Mr. Mathews came up behind her. All three were glancing at Austin, at first amused but finding the two being at peace had a tranquil effect. Within only a moment, Austin must have felt something because he started, waking himself to see their smiles. They visited as a family for a little while, Kevin almost breaking down yet again as he told his parents over and over how sorry he was. Unlike other evenings and episodes, Austin watched and stayed with his little brother through it all this time, and all three of them could feel the younger Mathews' sincerity. His pleas for forgiveness came from his heart, and before all was said and done, they all experienced a tearful reunion that had not been seen in years. When Austin finally did rise from the bed, they made their preparations to go. Kevin looked better, actually more alert than he had in days. Not only was he smiling, but in a totally uncharacteristic way, he was cutting up and interacting with them in a positive light. Austin promised to be back if he wanted, and Kevin actually grabbed his brothers' arm and told him "If it's a maybe, then you're not going. But if you promise, I'll wait for you." Although confused by the words at first, Austin smiled as their meaning sunk in. Kevin was not the strongest kid at expressing things or feelings, but most of the time he and his brother understood the intention without trouble. It actually made him feel good his brother wanted him there, especially after everything that had transpired in the last few weeks. He thought he might ask the nurses about it on the way out, then if his parents approved maybe he would come back for the night as a surprise. At last they left, walking the hallway in silence, Mrs. Mathews arm draped around her son's shoulder. "He loves you, you know," smiling as she prodded Austin along. "I know Mom, I know," he responded in the way most boys do when it came to expressions such as this. He offered nothing more, thinking that what happened between him and his brother was theirs to keep - that nobody else needed to know or share it. As they started to the elevators, Mr. Mathews kept walking, taking Austin farther down the hallway. Austin looked up, the curiosity obvious. "We had to park in the emergency room parking lot," the man laughed at the raised eyebrow. He wondered where each of his kids got that from, because neither he nor his wife could make that simple gesture as grand as the two boys. "Oh!" was the only reply as they continued down to another set of elevators and then stepped inside, heading to the ground floor. When they exited, they were right across from two boys whom, after a second glance, seemed awfully familiar to him. He stopped, causing his parents to stop, and turned to one. "Aren't you that kid, from the bus...?" he asked, addressing Thomas. Thomas rolled his eyes, annoyed at the question, but since there were obviously parents and adults present, he answered for their benefit. "YYeessss..." At first he didn't recognize the other kid because of the haircut and more presentable clothes, but it finally dawned on him who was speaking. This kid had ridden their bus before, going home with Jeremy a few times in the past. Reading body language had been one of Austin's specialties over the years, and if ever there was a clear sign of despair, it was presented before him now. He gave the best disarming smile he could muster with sincerity, holding up a hand. "It's cool man, I just thought I recognized you, that's all. I've been on your bus a few times." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Austin, Austin Mathews." Thomas accepted the handshake, awkward as it seemed. "Thomas, this is Michael, and that's our bus driver Stan." "Oh yeah, I remember you," he smiled and extended his hand to the driver as well, causing him to blink and grin at the formality of it all. Nodding acknowledgement, the man spoke up. "You used to git off the bus with Riddle, right? Did you know he's in here?" Austin blinked. "Huh? What do you mean, in here? You mean, here in the emergency room?" Looking at the three of them, he added. "Is that why you three are here? Did something happen?" As the driver and boys nodded their heads, Mr. Mathews back-stepped slightly so that he joined the conversation more directly. "Riddle? You mean Jeremy Riddle is in here? What happened?" At this they hesitated. Thomas and Michael both were wise enough to realize they should be careful how much is said in the open until more was discovered and understood about the situation. Sensing their implied silence along similar reasons, Stan cleared his throat. "Well, seems the boy was roughed over some way, they got him back there checking him out now." Austin furrowed his brows. "But, Jeremy hasn't been in any fights more than a scuffle since...." Stan agreed. "I knows what you mean, but we don't know a lot right now, probably won't fer a while." Austin studied the man's face then turned and glanced at the younger boys and stopped. Their faces reflected something else, and instantly he knew there was more to it. Turning to his parents, Austin asked them, "Can I stay a while Mom, Dad? In fact, let me stay the night, I'll go up to Kev's room after while if they'll let me." "I don't know..." started Mrs. Mathews, unsure of the proposal. "They may not want you sticking around? You know what they told us before..." "I know Mom, but it'll be okay. If I can't stay I'll get a ride home or call you or something. Please? I don't really feel like going out to eat anyway, and I've got nothing else going down tonight... so please, Dad?" The elder Mathews thought about it for a second, and then reached for his wallet, taking out a ten-dollar bill and handing it over. "Eat something soon anyway, and if you need me to come get you, then call." He exchanged a smile with his son, relenting on the fact that this was a different, empathic side they had seldom witnessed. Both parents hugged the boy and then proceeded out the door, leaving Austin with the group. Stan stretched as the other boys sat down in the nearby chairs. "Tell you boys what, I gots to call the better half." He paused and chuckled seeing the confusion on their faces. "The better half of the family is my wife! Ain't you youngens ever heard that before?" They all laughed before he continued. "I'll go do that and see if we can find anything out afterwards over there with the nurse, okay?" After enthusiastic nods, he walked off. Austin turned to the other boys afterwards. "Okay, I uh, know you don't know me, but..." Michael shook his head. "He's bad, really bad, and Stan told the truth, we don't really know what happened or how he is at the moment, other than -" He took a deep breath, pausing before finishing. "Other than he wouldn't let us, let me I mean, take him home, like he was scared to go back there." "Wait, home? He wouldn't go home?" The incredulity in his voice was apparent, before he got a knowing looking. "His Dad again, huh? I know they used to fight a lot." Turning to Michael, he addressed the younger man. "You found him? Where?" Michael nodded, and then filled him in on a few of the details regarding the events of the evening. Austin was thunderstruck at what he heard. He recalled something from a time long before, a mysterious quip Jeremy had made during lunch one day. Something about parents being nothing more than - what was it he said? Austin couldn't remember the exact words, but somehow the illusion sprang forth as real. There was no question, no hint of doubt in his mind about what drove home how bad it really must have been. Both Michael and Thomas were thoughtful, mulling over the events with unanswered questions filling them each. Eventually Michael's thoughts turned elsewhere. "How come you're here?" Austin grimaced. "My brother is in here, upstairs." "Really? Kevin, isn't it? What's he in here for?" Thomas inquired. Austin hesitated before replying. "He's here because in a way I put him here, and because he needed to be here." Seeing the puzzled looks, he continued. "Kevin got messed up in some drugs guys, and I caught him right after he got hold of some bad stuff. Actually, Jeremy caught him and told me, that's how I come to find him when I did. He's been in here trying to recover from them for a couple of weeks now." "Upstairs? You mean, fourth floor, east wing?" Michael asked quietly. Austin nodded. "You know?" When the other boy nodded, an understanding crossed between them. Austin cleared his throat. "You guys know Kevin?" When the boys exchanged glances before nodding hesitantly, Austin immediately caught the implied silence. "Was he..." He was afraid to ask, already knowing the answer just by their looks. Michael sighed. "I don't know a lot, okay? Honest, but... I've seen him in the bathroom a few times, with some other guys, and they weren't there for usual bathroom business, if you know what I mean." Austin sighed, looking through the window into the blackness that now enveloped the landscape outside. "Okay, I get the idea." Nothing more was said as each turned back into the silence of waiting again. - + - + - + - Linda returned to the waiting room a short while later and found all three boys quietly sitting where she had left them. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was much later than she had thought. "You guys must be starving," she said by way of announcement, crossing the floor and coming up to them. She noted the third boy and smiled, introducing herself. "How is he? How's Jeremy?" Michael asked as he saw Stan coming up behind her. Taking a deep breath, she spoke quietly. "The doctor thinks he is going to be okay, at least physically. Right now he is hooked up to all kinds of IV's and tubes and monitors. Evidently he has gone several days without food and water, aside from being beaten really badly. He was dehydrated and weak, but they're monitoring his recovery to build that back up." She glanced at the third boy and hesitated, unsure of his role or relationship. Michael saved her the trouble, explaining that Austin had been a close friend of Jeremy's for a long time. She sized the boy up, but then nodded accepting him. "Well, he's in pretty bad shape right now, and they have him sedated. He's resting, and his vital signs are showing improvement. Your Mom," she said, addressing Michael at that point, "is going to stay with him through the night to keep an eye on the medications." "C-can we s-see him?" Michael asked, almost a whisper. Linda shook her head. "Not tonight, he's not in a very pretty shape to see anyone." "What do you mean?" Thomas asked. Linda looked at each boy carefully before answering. "He has a lot of bruises and welts and... other things right now." A look of understanding crossed Austin's face. "He's been abused, that's what you mean isn't it?" Surprised, Linda nodded. "You know about it?" Austin slowly nodded. "I never really *knew*, but I after hearing this tonight and some other things in the past, I wouldn't put it past his old man. They didn't get along at all." Linda nodded. "Well, he's lost a lot of blood, a lot of it." Michael knew what she was implying, as he remembered the dark stains between Jeremy's legs and crotch he had noted. Clearing her throat, she continued. "I've been talking to Sherriff Glen for the last hour or so. Right now, they have an APB out for Jeremy's father, wanting to bring him in for questioning." She turned to Michael again. "He is going to want to talk to you, probably in the morning, just to make sure we got all our facts straight. Don't be afraid of him, he's just trying to figure out the best thing to do right now, and that means he has to find his dad and bring him in for questioning." Michael nodded, so she stood up. "It'll be sometime tomorrow before they will even THINK about letting you guys in to see him, so there is no use waiting around here. Come on guys, Stan and I are going to get you boys something to eat. Do you want to join us -" she turned to Austin, not quite remembering his name. He thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "Can I come back here afterwards? I've got-" He hesitated only slightly. "I've got family upstairs." Linda nodded her head. "Stan knows a place just down the street here a little ways, so we won't be going far. And yes I'm sure one of us will be glad to drop you off back here," she added with Stan nodding silently behind her. She looked at the two younger boys. "I'm going to get you two home afterwards so you can get some sleep before coming back up here in the morning, too." They began heading off toward the exit, chatting in much lighter tones... - + - + - + - Later that night, both Thomas and Michael were lying in bed next to each other staring at the ceiling. The moon was outside was high and bright, casting eerie shadows around the room. Linda had dropped them both off at Michael's house, telling Thomas to behave and for them not to stay up long as it was already quite late. He was surprised, until he understood she was going back up to the hospital a while. Secretly, Linda actually just did not want to leave her son alone with his grandparents right now until things settled down. Both boys were ecstatic at the turn of events. As they undressed upstairs to their briefs, Michael pulled a t-shirt from the drawer to loan to his friend as he donned one himself. They climbed in the bed, Michael turning his back to his friend and spooning in close to be held. Thomas obliged, remembering how it had all been so great months before. Both boys were exhausted, the adrenaline finally having seeped away their strength. As Thomas held the other boy, he pulled him in close and nuzzled the back of his neck. "Mike?" "Yeah?" returned the whispered reply. "I'm sorry man, I wish I had listened to you before now, about him." Michael shrugged his shoulders. "Not your fault man, and heck, I didn't really know either, I just felt something was different, that's all." "Yeah but, you're good at that, you know? Good at reading people, figuring them out and stuff." He giggled. "I mean, look what you did for me?" Michael smiled, turning and looking back into the others eyes. "Yeah, but you're my bro now, you know?" He wiggled in yet tighter, making Thomas giggle as he ground his crotch up firm. "Careful Mike, I might get horny," he whisper mischeviously. "I don't care Thomas, I trust you, remember?" "Yeah, I know." He hugged his friend tightly, thankful at that moment to just be holding him again. Neither said anything more, as they both quietly slipped off to sleep in each other's arms... (To be continued...) --------------------------------- Comments to: EKidKy@hotmail.com Other series by me: - Life's Road of Discoveries (www.Nifty.org, Gay-Young Friends section, Early 2008) - Terry and Sam - Short Story, Holiday Christmas Collaboration w/Ruwen (www.Nifty.org, Gay-No Sex section, Late 2008)