Hey! How's it going?

I hope you read Bear & Cub, I worked real hard in it and am real pleased with my first Detective story. I think Counting Down is becoming a huge hit.

I'm thinking about the next story (actually, I'm always thinking about the next story) and could use some of your help. I'm thinking about writing my next story in a different genre. I'm thinking I would classify, Counting as dramatic, and Bear & Cubs as thriller/Detective, so how do you feel about stories that are wrapped around a theme like that? I can write superhero, Magik, alternate universes, space, etc. (I don't do horror, sorry for you horror fans) Email me (Foxfire3730@proton.me) and I'll take a tally then decide where to go from here.

If you do enjoy Counting Down, please read some of my other works on AO3 (TuxEdwards): Counting, Counting Down (the sequel to Counting), Not Capable of Love, Fire (Boys of Grizzly Valley on AO3), Go Bag (Boys of Grizzly Valley on AO3), and Jaded (on AO3). Please take a few minutes to drop me an email to let me know if Counting Down is for you: Foxfire3730@proton.me

 

If you like my stories and want to tip or donate to me, consider buying me a coffee at this link: Thank You

 

"The Universe is Made of Stories, Not of Atoms" -Muriel Rukeyser

 

What's wrong?

AJ

3 Days Left

This is not as fun as when Pop and Gran lived at the Double H. Here at their condo, as I look around the room at the puffy white furniture, beige carpet, chandelier over the dining room table, and entertainment center, there's nothing to do but watch TV. Beau and I sit on the puffy couch holding hands, and Colt lays on the floor on his stomach with his head in his hands and slowly kicks his feet in the air. I'm not sure what we're watching exactly, but it's black and white. The deputy in the show is really goofy. The sheriff only allows him to carry one bullet, and it has to stay in his front pocket, so dumb. On the plus side, the little boy, named Opie, is kind of cute. I love his big ears. 

Gran and Mom are in the kitchen working on dinner. Gran is telling her about Tuesday. "I can't believe I talked him into leaving that ranch," she laughed. "It didn't take much to convince him to take the Alaska cruise."

"That's great, Mom; you two are going to have a great time," my mom says as she drains the spaghetti in the sink. 

Beau squeezes my hand gently and whispers, "Hey, are you okay?"

I lean over to him and lay my head on his arm, saying, "As long as you're holding me."

He squeezes my hand again and leans his head over on mine. We watch the deputy, Barney Fife, freak out about a piece of litter dropped in front of the sheriff's office. The sheriff just rolls his eyes and throws the litter away. "You didn't tell me about the bullying at school; why?" Beau asks in a whisper that I hope only I can hear. 

"It's nothing, really," I whisper back, making sure not even Colt can hear me. "It's not like anyone has beat me up, at least not yet."

"Is this funny to you?" He asks way louder than a whisper. Everybody turns to look at us, and even Dad pops his head out of the small office that I think was supposed to be a guest room. 

"Is there a problem, boys?" My mom asks from the kitchen. 

Sweating bullets don't describe my current situation. "No, he's just surprised. I think this show is funny, is all," I say quickly as I plead with my eyes to not make a big deal out of this. 

Only the silly TV show fills up the room with sound as everybody waits for Beau's response. He studies my face and whispers one word: "names." His eyes never leave mine, and I know why he wants them. If I'm to agree, then it can lead to only one outcome. I can already see Beau's temper rising. His chest is out, and his breathing is quickening. He's so protective of me; this could push him back into a habit I thought he had stopped. I don't feel I have a choice here; he has me over a barrel. Stay quiet and risk him telling everyone how much of a pussy I am, or agree and have my twelve-year-old boyfriend hunt down my bullies. 

I nod and mouth, `I will,' and hope I can talk him out of it later. "This show is stupid," he says, and the room commotion seems to go back to the noise level before his outburst. We go back to the TV show, and I remember the trouble Beau got into because some bullies wouldn't leave me alone. Once it started, he had been promising not to tell our parents or teachers. They fought back and forth for a couple months. Mostly after school, but one day, we were downtown, and that asshole jumped us with his friends. 

Beau and I did what we could, but eventually some adults broke it up, but not before Beau put that bully into intensive care. We ran off at the first chance we had, just like the other boys. The only trouble we got was from Mom and Dad. It was hard to hide our cuts and bruises, but we never spoke of that day to anyone. That night, up in bed after Colt fell asleep, he promised me that was his last fight and apologized for getting me hurt. 

"Dinner is ready." Gran calls us all to the table. 

Colt practically jumps to his feet from his previous position of being on his stomach. Beau helps me to my feet and kisses me. It's not anything dramatic, but a quick apology for making a scene. Then, hand in hand, we hurry to our seats at the table. He pulls my chair out for me and takes his seat next to me. After once observing a man in a movie that Pop was watching do that for his girlfriend, he now does it for me at every opportunity. Mom thinks it's cute, and me, well, I think it's sweet. 

The normal table talk takes place. We talk about Beau's lacrosse game and how great he did. He tells the whole story about how he got hurt, as if Pop and Gran weren't there, and how they had to X-ray him and give him an MRI to make sure he didn't tear anything important. Nothing is broken, thank heavens, but the doctor said it was just a sprain and should be okay if he stays off it for a week. They gave him some aluminum crutches, which he's already complaining about, and enough pain pills for the next few days. 

We talked about how I rode in the rodeo and how well I did. I didn't, but it was nice of them to tell me I did. We talked a lot about how well the twins are doing with the Double H. I guess the rodeo last weekend was totally run by them, and everyone is very proud. I guess that explains why I didn't see them all that Saturday. The rest of the time was about Pop and Gran's cruise to Alaska. Small fishing towns, whales, and glaciers all sound so fascinating that it is certainly worthwhile to spend so much time on a boat.

After about an hour or two, Dad and Mom gathered us kids together, and we all exchanged hugs with our grandparents before heading home. Beau holds my hand as we sit in the back seat. Beau leans over and whispers in my ear, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I was just thinking about Tuesday; I have to get my second shot," I answer.

"Will you have to stay at the hospital again?"

Zack and Zeke turn their heads, eavesdropping on our conversation as I answer again, "I don't know; I didn't know I had to stay that long last time. I hope not. I'm not a big fan of being alone in hospitals." The nightmare events that included Nurse Michael made me shudder a little. 

"I'll be over every day after school. You don't have to be afraid," my boyfriend says, and I give him a reassuring smile even though I'm very scared. It's the second procedure, and even though I got through the first one without complications, the second one is a little trickier. I look out to the night sky and watch the stars, as if the answer to whether this all will be worth it is written there. 

"You're going to be fine," Zack says with a weak smile. I just give him an equally weak nod and look out the window up at the sky for answers.

Beau

It was a little tricky to get on the bus this morning with these crutches, but Mr. Hows made the kids in the front seat move so I could sit there, so it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. I got into Timberline Middle School okay and was heading to my locker when someone stopped me and gave me a high-five, saying that the game was epic and I did great. My face warmed up as I thanked them. It didn't take long for the second kid, and then the third. Someone even helped me get my homework books in my locker, get the first few classes of books I needed, and get my backpack back on. 

Everyone at school seems really happy with how I played in the lacrosse game. They seem to think it's really cool that a seventh grader is playing on the JV team. I had friends before, but now it seems like everyone is a friend of mine. As I enter the lunchroom, I can already see that the table I sit at is packed with kids. Krew comes up behind me and asks, "Hey popular kid, need some help with your food tray?"

"That'd be great, thanks. It's weird that everyone is so happy around me," I tell him as we wait in line. "Most of these people wouldn't give me the time of day a month ago."

"Well, you're on top of the mountain now; ride it as long as you can," Krew says, adding sub sandwiches to our trays. 

We get our food and head to the table. The people squeezed to make room for me and my traybearer. The conversation is about lacrosse and me. "So how is your knee, Beau?" Asks some girl across from me. 

"It's good; the doctor says it's just a sprain," I answer her.

"Man, the hit on you looked really ugly."

"Yeah, Beau, you went down real hard."

"It hurt like hell, that-," I tell the table and look around to make sure we're out of adult earshot. "-mother fucker just couldn't handle me scoring on him again."

I am extremely uneasy because the girl sitting next to me continues to rub my leg under the table while we all laughed.

"Dude, are you okay?" Cooper asks me as I brush her hand off my thigh again. 

"Yeah, yeah," I embarrassedly answer, "something about my leg is bothering me. It must be all the crutching around." The embarrassing part is that I know that her rubbing my leg millimeters from my dick should have me hard as a rock, and that is what she's expecting, but it's not. That's what they're all expecting. One of these days I won't be able to stop the girls before they find my incredible, soft, uninterested, and very confused dick. 

I get my crutches, and Krew stands up, helping me get off the lunch bench. "You need help?" He asks, handing me the unopened candy bar I bought off my tray. 

"Nope, I got this. I'm heading to the nurse to get a pill. Take my backpack to our next class, would'ja?"

"Of course, dude. If you aren't there in time, I'll send out a search party," he says jokingly, and we bump fists.

Working my way through the empty halls sure is easier than when they are full of students. The nurses office is near the principal's, and thank God, it's easy to get to. I stumble in, and the nurse smiles at me and hurries to help me with the door. "Hi, Beau, how's the knee?"

I work myself into the room and admit, "It's starting to really hurt. Can I have one of my pills, please?" I ask.

"Sure thing, why don't you head into the next room and have a seat?" she tells me. 

I head into the next room, and as I struggle through the door, a voice comes from over by the pill cabinet that sends chills up my spine. "So, I saw the foul last Saturday. It looked really nasty." Looking up, I see the high school coach sitting on the bed next to the cabinet, holding a pill bottle. "Vicodin, that's strong stuff. Your knee must have taken quite a wack," he adds.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a class to teach or something?"

He smiles and puts my pill bottle back in the cabinet and says, "You seem hostile, Beau. Is everything good between us?"

"No! It's hard for us to be good. You used to fuck me until I passed out from the pain. I always had to stay home the next day from school because I couldn't walk right! If I had parents that gave a damn, there would have been no way to hide what you did to me! Now that I don't have to feed my brother and don't need the pills to withstand the pain that assholes like you would put me through, I don't have to pretend we're good." I answer him and sit as far from him as I can on the far bed. 

"Asshole?" He questions my choice of words. "Is that anyway to talk to a teacher?" He smiles an eerie smile and then continues as if I wasn't being as disrespectful as I possibly could: "There's only four more pills left in this bottle. Doctors never play sports. They have no idea how bad an athlete's injuries hurt." He stands up and begins to head to the door, saying, "Well, if it still hurts and stops you from playing at your best, you'll let Coach Bosse down. If the doc won't give you more pain pills, come see me." Then he leaves, and I hear him tell the nurse, "Thanks for the extra muscle wraps."

`Come see me,' he says. That kid fucking asshole! I'm not even in his preferred age range anymore. He likes them about eight years old or younger. He says he likes to hear them scream as he fucks them. I can count on one hand how many men I knew would hurt me to hear me scream, and he is definitely number one. Damn, I hate that guy! I hear the outer door close, and the nurse comes in, saying, "It sounds like you know Coach Murphy."

"Yeah," I tell her with a little huff, "we have history."

She looks at me as if she wants to ask what the rest of the story is, but I hold my lips together to stop my secrets from slipping out. She gives up and unlocks the cabinet, getting my pill bottle. After she gives me one, I take it and thank her before I leave. 

Come see me, he says. I wouldn't go see him willingly if my leg was chopped off and the rest of me was on fire. The rest of my day went as it began, but Coach Murphy's words banged around my head, giving me a bad attitude for the rest of my day. I can't let Coach Bosse down.

AJ is, as expected on the bus, very clingy and spaced out. He spent the whole bus ride lying on my lap. I'm guessing he had a rough day and was probably worried about the second medical procedure. I suck up what I'm going through and comfort my boyfriend. He snuggles up against me, and I hold him all the way home. 

We walk side-by-side down the driveway, talking about our day. AJ has his bag and mine as the days events pour out of us. It's so great to meet AJ like I did. Sure, the sex is awesome, and he can be wild in bed believing it or not, but this is what I think is most important. I've never had someone I could tell anything to. AJ makes me feel like nothing is going to shock him, and he never, ever judges me. 

"Wow, it sounds like your day was really cool. Did you get your pill, okay?" AJ asks about getting the door for me. 

"Yeah, no problem, but Coach Murphy was in there, and he was looking at my pill bottle," I tell him with a suspicious tone in my voice.

"Why? Isn't he the Summit's gym teacher?"

"I think he wants to sell me pills? He was very cryptic."

AJ never lets me down; I'm getting to the point where I know what he's going to say, hehee. "But you have pills?" AJ points out innocently and matter-of-fact. 

I pull myself onto my stool at the kitchen bar as AJ gets our after-school snacks. "I think he means after my pill bottle is empty, AJ."

"But you'll be healed when the pills are done, right?" he asks as he climbs into his stool. 

"Maybe?" I think out loud, earning me a look of concern from AJ. When I catch his unsettled look, I change the subject: "Oh, can you help me with my algebra?"

AJ

2 Days Left

One Hour Later

Heading out of the homework room after helping Beau with his math, I flop down on the couch right before Dad comes into the nub room and calls for me, "AJ!"

"Yeah, dad," I answer him, and I turn around to face him. He's still in his dirty ranch clothes. "What's up?"

"AJ, get changed into your work clothes; you're with me."

I turn off the TV, hop off the couch, and run upstairs to change clothes. I wonder what he's got planned for me. I don't remember doing something wrong, and I hope this isn't punishment. I meet Beau at the door. He's changed into his exercise clothes. "What are you doing?" He asks me, holding onto his crutches and hopping on one leg. 

"Don't know, dad just told me to go change," I answer him as I tuck my cock into my jeans. It's best to know exactly where your dick and balls are when you zip. You can never be too careful. I never wear underwear here in California; I think it cuts down on swamp-ass. 

I giggle, grab a green t-shirt from my dresser, and kiss Beau's cheek as I hurry past him. I hit the first floor, and Dad is still standing in the mud room. I sit down on the floor in front of him and pull my boots on. "What are we doing? Am I in trouble?" I was a little worried about the answer. 

"Did you do something wrong?"

That's a Mom trick; I hate when she does it, and it's really unpleasant when Dad does it. "No, I don't think so," I answer, standing up. 

He puts my cowboy hat on and says, smiling, "Then you have nothing to worry about."

He pats my back as we head outside. "Stepper!" I shriek and go pet him. He lowers his head so I can pet his forehead. "What are we doing?" I ask, and Dad picks up, hoisting me up in Stepper's saddle. Up on Stepper, Dad has packed an overnight pack and strapped it to the back of the saddle. "What's with the pack?"

Dad walks his way over to Buddy and climbs onto his saddle, and he answers me, "Well, I thought it would be nice to camp out in the park with your dear old dad."

"Really? What about school?"

"Have you done all your homework for the week? You probably already handed it in," he says with a giggle.

"Yeah," I answer him a little defensively. 

"Well, I figured with you missing the next week of school, what harm would one more day be?" He says this as he fixes his cowboy hat.

I giggle at his reasoning and give Stepper the command to follow Buddy. Dad takes it up through the ranch and past the lake to the east fence. Sliding off Buddy, dad unlocks the gate and opens it enough for the horses to get through. As I ride past Buddy, I take his reins and lead him through with me and Stepper. Dad closes the gate and re-locks it. He climbs back on Buddy and asks me, "AJ, it's just you and me in these woods. Is there anything that you would like to talk about?"

He kind of blindsided me here. "Um, like what?"

The horses weave in and out of tall, thick trees as the last thirty days shuffle through my memory. The rhythmic bobbing from side to side of Stepper as he walks up the barely existing trail is strangely relaxing. "Well, I guess school is giving me a hard time." Dad turns and questionably looks at me over his shoulder. "Bullies, not my lessons," I clarify.

He studies my face and turns back, saying, "No, I don't think that's it. Sure, you've been bullied a lot this year, but that isn't anything you haven't handled in the past. That's not what's keeping you from sleeping at night and sneaking down to the lake to stare at the stars for answers."

We ride for what seems like an hour or so in silence. We make it to the camping area, and I untie my pack before getting off Stepper. We've used this campsite before, and the best thing about it is that long before we came here, a tree fell along one side of it. That tree is perfect to hold our saddles and tie up the horses. Dad clears the dirt circle from debris like twigs, stones, and leaves before he begins on the campfire. 

I untie our bed rolls from our packs and begin working at the campsite. Once our saddles are on the fallen tree, I remove our rifles from the saddle holsters and place them next to where we'll be sleeping. After that terrible night with the wolves, I never ride from the house without it. I move our horses over to where we have previously attached a couple ropes around the tree trunk and latch the leads to it. As dad finishes setting up the campfire and gets out our dinner, I work on brushing and feeding Buddy and Stepper.

By the time dinner is done, it's dark out, and I'm lying in Dad's arms as we both watch the fire. It crackles and sends the smell of smoke into the light breeze. Once we're settled and comfortable, Dad asks his question again. "So, what's really bothering you?" I look up at him, and he gives me a warm smile and a little hug, and I can feel my bottom lip begin to quiver. 

I look back at the fire and take a deep breath to calm myself down a little before asking, "You know what I'm afraid of? You know that feeling that you could die right before you do something dangerous? It would only take one little mistake, and you're finished. For the last couple months, I've had that feeling all the time."

"Oh, AJ, you're not going to die anytime soon," my dad interrupts me. I can tell he's frantically searching for something better to say.

"I know what you and mom are talking about when you think I'm not paying attention or can't hear you. Reading lips is a very useful skill. I know how dangerous these procedures are. I also know that without them, I will d... won't last much longer. I know it's true because I can feel it. Some days it's worse than others, and I can't explain it, but I can feel my body giving up."

The silence of the forest overwhelms us as I search for the strength to go on talking under the stars. I snuggle into my dad's arms, and he holds me tighter. I think he's crying. "I'm not afraid of dying," I add. "I'm afraid that I'm wasting the time I have left sitting in a classroom not learning anything new, surrounded by kids and teachers that don't want me there, and just watching time tick away." I look up into my dad's reddened eyes and ask, "Understand?" How could he, though? It was stupid of me to ask him, but for some reason... I think I need him to. 

"You know what?" Dad asks as he stands up and goes to his pack. He digs into it and produces two giant candy bars. "If I remembered correctly, this is your favorite."

"Yeah, I love those!"

For now, I guess we're supposed to talk about something else. His change of subject was pretty good, and I'll give him credit for distracting me with the candy bar. Dad has never been really good when the conversation turns emotional. I didn't get to see it, but mom says he looked like he was going to have a heart attack when he proposed to her. Dad sits back down on his bed roll and holds up an arm for me to snuggle back into his warm embrace. I love my dad.

The moon glides across the dark, star-filled sky, and dad helps me into my sleeping bed. Suddenly, the horses shift warily, and Dad's hand instantly goes for his rifle. I practically leap from my sleeping bag with mine in my hand. We both search the dark woods for movement. Silence begins to creep me out when I hear from the darkness, "Hello? Mr. Colter, it's Park Ranger Sneed."

My dad lowers his rifle, and with his other hand on my barrel, he lowers mine. "Adam?" He asks the night.

Walking down the thin dirt path, a man dressed in park ranger gear seems to melt out of the darkness. "Jack, AJ, I'm sorry to bother you, but have a man and his daughter come through here?"

"No, sorry, Adam; it's just been us. What's going on?" Dad asks as he shakes Mr. Sneed's hand. 

"We got the call this afternoon that Robert Grey and his daughter, Becky, have been missing for twenty-four hours. They were working on a treasure map, some kind of family heirloom," Ranger Sneed informs us. 

Dad rubs his chin with his rough rancher hand and asks, "Do you have a direction or an area that they were interested in?"

"I was told the southern part of the park. The man was really vague about where. Afraid we would find the treasure first, I guess."

"Well then, AJ, pack us up. We should get to searching. It's going to get cold tonight," Dad says, as if he's got no choice.

"Thanks, Jack; we could use all the help we can get. We're on channel 4.3 on the CB. I best get back," Ranger Sneed says, turning to head up the trail. 

"Sorry for cutting the camping trip short, kiddo," Dad says, putting Stepper's saddle on my horse's back. I get to work at fixing the saddle straps, and dad continues, "We'll do this again as soon as we can, okay?"

"Sure, Dad, I don't mind. We best find them before someone gets hurt," I reason out loud. 

Once the sleeping bags are packed, the fire is out, and the horses are ready, we head out into the darkness with our rifles in one hand and a flashlight in the other. We call out the names of the lost, and our horses weave in and out of the trees slowly. Periodically, Dad checks the GPS to make sure we're not lost ourselves. 

"So, are you and Beau good?"

"Yup, why do you ask? Has he said something?"

"No, but it sounds like something is wrong," Dad says, looking back at me.

"We're good. I just don't get to spend time with him much anymore. He's at lacrosse practice three times a week, lifting weights with Zeke, or so exhausted he falls asleep as soon as he holds still for five minutes, and then there's Colt," I complain. 

"You and he are still fighting?"

"No, I don't think so. He's just older now and isn't a fan of Beau and me, you know, having sex. He won't leave us alone long enough to do anything and complains when he walks in on us."

"It sounds like your bed is getting crowded. You're mother and I were talking about this problem last night, and I was going to bring it up to you at the campfire. AJ, we have the extra rooms, now that the twins have moved out, to give all three of you boys your own room. Do you think it's time to have your own room again.?"

"Will Beau have to move out?" I painfully asked.

Dad stops Buddy and lets me get along with him before saying, "Don't you think that would be best for Beau? He could design his room to fit his personality."

"Would he have to sleep there?"

"I don't think it will become a new rule if that's what you're asking. He wouldn't even have to use it, but it will be there if he finds a need for it, okay?"

Split us up. I've slept with my brothers for the past four years. I mean, sure, having Colt in the bed stops me and Beau from having wild sex, but I kind of need his body to snuggle, even though he's not really into it anymore. What will happen if Beau sleeps in his own bed? Will he let me sleep with him? How quiet will the bedroom be if my brothers aren't there? 

"Now don't do that," Dad says, stopping his horse. "Don't get in your head. AJ, all boys your age want their own room. Look at it as a good thing. You'll get your own room back to decorate how you want, to keep as clean as you want, or to mess it up when you want. Please don't get upset without considering the pros." 

"Pros vs cons... pros vs cons... pros vs cons..." I mutter as I count the small metal rings attached to the gray saddle with black leather. I must have gotten lost in thought as I counted the pros and cons. In my head I list them in order of importance. Dad must have gotten off his horse and is lifting me off mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he hugs me tightly as my lips read down the lists with a barely audible mumble.

"Shhh, AJ, calm down. They'll just be downstairs. There's no reason to get upset. I tell you what, let's take a break. Are you getting tired?"

I nod my head, and he rubs my back. He walks over to an old stump and sits down. I am getting tired and have yawned a few times. His chest is so warm, and I will admit, it's very relaxing. "You're growing up, AJ, and having your own space is something you're really going to like. No more Colt getting into your comics or messing with your Lego. We could hang a bunch of shelves and display any Lego..."

"Shhh," I interrupt my dad, placing my hand on his mouth. The look on Dad's face is pretty funny, making me giggle before I whisper, "Listen."

We both look out into the darkness and strain our ears, listening.