Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2013 16:04:20 -0800 (PST) From: Seth Kirkcauldy Subject: Brother Mine 7 Brother Mine Chapter 7 copyright 2013 Seth Kirkcauldy seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the author's permission. The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display this work. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously. This story contains erotic situations between brothers not yet of a legal age. If it is illegal for you to read this, or you just think it's yucky, please leave now. Please donate to the Nifty Archive. Part 0: Happy Holidays "Is it the Scrinch or Santa?" Aiden asked. He was whispering loudly and his hands were covering his eyes. "It's Ma and Dad," Connor whispered back. "Oh," Aiden replied, removing his hands from his eyes and looking down at them. "I don't like the Scrinch." The little five-year old was pressed up against his older brother and shivering. The boys were hiding behind the decorated banister and Connor was peering down into the living room where his parents were huddled in front of the Christmas tree, working on something. "I don't think the Grinch really exists," Connor told him. Connor was seven and he knew these things. "He does," Aiden said solemnly. "I saw him on the news." Aiden grabbed Connor's big hand and moved it to his mouth where he popped the thumb inside and sucked on it. His Mom had told him a few weeks ago that Santa didn't bring presents to five year olds who still sucked their thumbs; so Aiden had begun sucking on Connor's instead. "That's gross!" Connor said, frowning at him; but he did not pull his thumb back. "And that wasn't the news, dork. It was the cartoon we watch every single Christmas." Connor turned his attention back to the Christmas tree and his eyes widened when he got a look at what his parents were working on: Dad was hunched over the bikes they'd asked Santa to bring them, putting them together. He saw other presents down there, too; and Ma was filling their stockings. His mouth fell open at the same time that the puzzles pieces fell together in his head. "Jiminy Cricket," he whispered. "Don't swear," Aiden said. "Ma doesn't like it." Then he popped Connor's thumb back into his mouth and sucked noisily. "C'mon, Aiden, back to bed!" Connor rose immediately and started leading Aiden back to their room by holding his thumb in front of his mouth like bait and staying just a step ahead of him. "You're the one who wanted to see who was making all the noise down there! I didn't want to see the Scrinch!" "Now we know it's not the Grinch, and we have to be in bed when Santa gets here." "Okay. You think Santa would mind if I'm in your bed? I'm afraid of the Scrinch, Connor." They climbed into Connor's bed together and Aiden snuggled next to his brother and slipped the big thumb back into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked happily. Connor wrapped his other arm around his kid brother and whispered that he'd keep watch for the Scrinch. And he did, even as he lay in the dark and listened to the sounds of his parents laughing and chatting as they worked the magic of Christmas for them. "Jiminy Cricket," Connor whispered again as tears fell down his cheeks to baptize their bed sheets. He silently vowed that Aiden would never discover the truth. Part 1: Aiden Aiden awoke with a gasp, sucking air deep into his lungs. His head thrashed spastically on his hospital bed as he looked around the room in a panic until his eyes finally settled on Connor in the chair beside his bed. Connor was slouched down so that his head could rest on the cushioned back; his legs kicked out in front of him, carelessly leaving his knees thrown wide. His handsome face was drawn and covered in reddish-gold stubble; and dark circles underlined the serious, green eyes that were now open and watching Aiden steadily. "Nightmare?" Connor's voice was husky with fatigue. "Yeah, but..." Aiden gestured with his hands as if trying to point to the words he wanted. "Don't really remember it now." "Liar." Aiden licked his lips and dropped his gaze. "Yeah," he whispered. "You need water?" "Just you." "Hmmm?" Aiden scooted over to the far edge of his hospital bed and gave Connor a pathetic look. His brother snorted at the manipulation, but got up and tried to fit his large body into the bed. He ended up mostly lying on his back with Aiden on top of him; exactly as the manipulator had planned. Aiden laid his head on Connor's chest and hummed happily. "You should have some water; stay hydrated," Connor told him. "I'll drink your piss." Connor didn't even laugh. "We're not doing that. You're fighting off infection." Aiden sighed heavily. "Urine is sterile," he said forlornly, knowing it wouldn't make any difference to Connor. It was day four of Connor's cocksucker's celibacy conundrum, or CCCC4 as Aiden had dubbed it. The hospital left no opportunity for Aiden to participate in his favorite activity, servicing Connor. Aiden felt neither sexy nor particularly amorous during these healing days in the hospital; although the lust he felt for Connor was a constant low burn in his body, and probably had smoldered that way since he was in the womb. What he craved was not sex; it was the comfort of curling up between Connor's strong thighs, the contact of skin on skin, the smells that told him he was where he belonged, and the tastes that rewarded him for the services he provided to Connor. The act grounded him, soothed him, sheltered him, and made him feel loved and valued. He was craving it like an addict. He wasn't sure he would make it to CCCC5 without going crazy; and he'd surely be hurting people by CCCC6. "The vampires will be here soon anyway," Connor told him. He was using Aiden's term for the phlebotomists who came collecting his blood in the dark hours of the night. Earlier in the week, Aiden had fashioned crosses out of tongue depressors and hung them all around his bed; but they did not prove to be a deterrent. Yesterday, Connor had taken away his plan B when he found the stake Aiden was trying to sharpen from another depressor. Connor wrapped his arms around Aiden's thin body and pulled him close in a hug, trying to ignore the awkward cast and bandages and tape and IV. "Tighter, Connor. Hug me tighter, please." "I don't want to hurt your ribs. They have a lot of healing to do, yeah?" "Tighter. Please?" "Why the fuck do you want me to hurt you, Spaz?" "I'm going to fly into pieces now. I need you to hold me together." With only that much warning, Aiden started sobbing into Connor's chest; and his brother squeezed him with his strong arms, hard enough to hurt. But it was also hard enough for Aiden to feel their bodies grind together so that he knew where he was and who was with him. The panic seemed to grow over several hours and then crest within him, leading to this purge of feeling; it was like the pull of the moon upon the tides of his emotion. This fit of panic and anxiety only lasted ten minutes or so before the high tide ebbed. They were always shorter when Connor was with him. "You have to talk to the shrink, Spaz," Connor growled softly. Aiden hiccupped and hid his face in Connor's shirt to escape the topic. "I've talked to them," he finally said softly. Connor shook under him as he started to laugh. "You interview them. You answer their questions with your bizarre Aidenisms and then you tell them they're not a good fit for you." "They're not!" Aiden responded truthfully. "That guy really did smell like an abortion." "With Lemon Sauce, you said," Connor reminded him. He was still shaking beneath Aiden. "You should see if someone can help you before you send them away." "The lemon might have been his shampoo or something." Aiden closed his eyes and sighed. "If I can send them away, Connor, they can't help me." Connor grunted at this, but let the topic rest. Aiden didn't know how to explain that Connor was the only person with whom he wished to talk; and half the time he didn't know what to say even to him. "Plunger-fuck," he announced, surprising both of them. "Hmmm? What?" Connor's voice was mild, but Aiden could feel his body tense. "Nothing. I didn't mean... I guess it's probably my dream. I think that's... you know... what I dream." "Oh. God Spaz, I dunno what to say. So you keep dreaming about... that? The rape part? I guess I assumed it was being trapped under the, uh... sludge stuff that you dreamed about." "It's not..." Aiden's hands started flailing in the air powerlessly. His words wouldn't come again. He didn't really want to tell Connor about his dream anyway, so he let his bruised and casted arms drop and then nuzzled his face further into his brother's chest. The dream was awful. The horror of it was that Connor was taken away to prison for what he did to Trevor, leaving Aiden all alone. Aiden would lay in their bedroom in the dream, alone and empty inside; and following the bizarre logic of dreams, Aiden would try to fill the emptiness by sticking a plunger handle inside himself and fucking himself ruthlessly with it. He was never raped in his dreams by the teenage monsters who abused him; he was always raped by himself. He had no intention of telling Connor this ever. "I rape myself," he said. "What?" Connor jerked awake; he must have been drifting. "Nothing," Aiden hissed, furious with his traitorous brain. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed. "Have you heard anything from the District Attorney?" "No," Connor mumbled. He seemed totally unconcerned about the fact that he might be headed to prison. Aiden didn't think Connor held any regret about his actions whatsoever, and he fervently hoped Connor never had the opportunity to tell a judge that. They were waiting to see if charges would be pressed, and were not quite sure why Connor wasn't being held by the police. "Not about me, anyway," Connor clarified. He nuzzled his face into the top of Aiden's head, avoiding the bandages on his wounded scalp. Aiden was quite the patchwork of damage. "They did tell me the three boys are all being held in Boswick until their hearing." Boswick was a Juvenile Detention Facility. All four of Aiden's abusers were still children in the eyes of the law, and most of them were held at this jail for minors until their court date. Trevor would be joining his three friends at the facility when he was released from the hospital. The silence spread out around them like a blanket, thick and comfortable. Aiden thought they'd now be able to sleep, but his brain had other ideas. "Did you?" "Um... what? A little more info, Spaz." "Did you do what I think you did?" Connor sighed; he was tired and Aiden knew his patience was waning. "Little more info, Spaz. Remember that I only hear the words that actually come out of your mouth. I can't hear any of the ones in your head." "Thank God. You've no idea how much trouble I'd be in." "I can actually imagine it'd be quite a bit. What do you think that I did?" "Oh yeah; that. It's nothing. Just... Um... When I was covered in pig shit? See, I don't really remember much after the plunger-fuck. I was sort of unconscious and... well then I was, uh..." "Dying," Connor said in a bleak voice. "You were dying." "Yeah; that. Anyway, did you maybe kiss me? I know you probably didn't. It's just that if you really did, I don't want to forget. And I think I might have forgotten. Well, either that or it didn't happen, which seems the most likely... but... oh!" Connor's lips were so much softer than Aiden ever expected them to be. He was such a big, hard guy; Aiden expected his lips to be firm and rough. But they were warm and gentle and moist, and the softest things that Aiden had ever felt. They merely brushed over his own chapped lips a few times, slightly parted, and the warm breath puffed out at him. Aiden opened his mouth a little so he could swallow those puffs; he loved the thought of having Connor's breath in his own lungs. But when his lips parted, Connor's sinuous tongue was right there, just waiting for the invitation. It caressed his lips before sliding gently over them and exploring his teeth. It tickled the roof of his mouth, and then found Aiden's own tongue. Aiden's tongue wrapped around Connor's, his right hand snaked behind his brother's head and grabbed a fistful of hair, his mouth opened wider in a deep groan, and then he devoured Connor's mouth. The feeling of Connor's mouth was electric, and Aiden never wanted to stop this. Connor's whiskers scratched Aiden's face with an erotic burn, and his saliva quenched a thirst Aiden didn't know he was carrying. His heart was galloping away with whatever was left of his brain. Their open lips ground against each other in a complicated dance circle, while within the confines of that border their tongues twisted and twined against each other. Connor started sucking on Aiden's tongue, then his bottom lip, and then was trying to get his tongue all the way down his throat. The moan was now a growl and the teeth were no longer nibbling so much as biting. Both of Connor's hands held handfuls of Aiden's hair, and he used the leverage to hold his brother still while he plundered him deeply. Connor's body had twisted some so that he could grind his hard cock against Aiden's warm leg. Suddenly Connor thrashed and bolted upright, disentangling himself quickly from Aiden and launching to his feet. He stood beside the bed with his chest heaving and his mouth open. His eyes were very wide and his fingertips moved up to touch his swollen lips while he watched Aiden warily. "Holy fuck," he whispered, gasping for breath. Aiden was wide-eyed, too. "More." Connor held up his hand unsteadily. "Uh... um... I don't think..." Aiden smiled like a predator, his eyes watching Connor's lips closely. "That was my very first kiss. Well, that I remember, anyway. Come here, Connor." "Uh, no... no... I think I'm gonna sit down now." Connor was so rattled that Aiden had to keep from laughing. Every survival instinct he had was telling him not to laugh at Connor right now. He watched Connor sit back down in his chair, still panting heavily and looking rather dazed. "Why'd you decide to kiss me, Con?" "Pffft," Connor said. Then he blinked a few times. "Well, it seemed sort of stupid not to." He looked around the room uncomfortably. "I mean, it seemed a stupid place to draw the line, you know? For fuck's sake, you stick your tongue in my ass, how is this any different?" Aiden laughed loudly in surprise, and watched as Connor's discomfort turned to a scowl; and then a smile. His older brother rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I know; I'm a fucking hopeless romantic," Connor said ruefully. Aiden had tears coming down his face again, but this time it was from the laughter. It hurt his ribs so badly, this happiness; but he looked up at Connor with bright eyes. "God, I love to hear you laugh," Connor told him, smiling. Then he turned at the sound at the door. "It's time to suck your blood," a woman said, vamping. She entered the room with her phlebotomy paraphernalia and nodded to Connor. "Can you give us a few minutes, Big Bro?" "Sure," Connor said, heading gladly to the restroom. Aiden watched him go with a big grin; he knew exactly what Connor would be doing in the stall. When Aiden awoke next it was sunny in his room and he realized with a sense of relief that he had not had nightmares through the remainder of the night. He also realized there was a small woman there who must have been a hundred; or maybe fifty. She had grey hair, anyway, and small reading glasses perched on her nose while she sat in Connor's chair and worked on a crossword. She must have been the new psychiatrist. "It's CCCC5 today," he announced to himself. She looked up at him and blinked. "I'm afraid I didn't bring a gift," she admitted. "There's only one thing I want anyway. Um, who are you?" "Dr. Kirker. Do you know a ten letter word that starts with a C and means 'having battlements'? I've misspelt 'castle' with several variations to force it to fit but that's working out just as you might expect." "Crenelated." Dr. Kirker's eyes opened wide and she looked more closely at Aiden. "You're fifteen?" "I like to be skull-fucked; I do NOT like to be plunger-fucked." "I see. And how do you feel about peppermints?" She held out a candy toward him. He took it suspiciously, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "Ambivalent," he decided. But it was a lie; he liked them, but he didn't plan to make this easy for her. "Freud was an ass." "I think he'd have preferred if you called him a dick. He was an ass like that." Aiden snickered in spite of himself. "I think you're going to work out." "Thank goodness," she drawled. "The Reverend Mother would have been so cross if you'd sent me back to the abbey." She looked over her reading glasses at him. "And thank you for the word 'ambivalent'; I knew 'conflicted' wasn't right, but I committed to it." She looked down at her crossword book and closed it with a sigh. "I suck at crosswords." "Why do you do them?" "I don't want to suck at crosswords. I'm a doctor; I should be able to do one, don't you think?" "I think I'm having nightmares." She nodded as if she had conversations like this all the time. Perhaps she did. "That's a fairly normal reaction of the brain when it's been traumatized. But you should consider that you're on a great deal of medication and several of them have the potential to cause odd dreams. They may simply cease when you stop taking the medications." Aiden's eyes flicked over to her and his old fear blossomed in his stomach. "But you'll want me to take other medications." "Is that so?" "Yes." Aiden licked his lips. "It's likely." She nodded. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Would it help at all if I told you that it would be your decision in the end?" "I'm a kid." She leaned forward a bit. "Aiden, if you didn't want to take the medications, you would find a way to not take them. So why would I bother to prescribe them? We may want to try some things, but in the end it will be a discussion and then a decision in which you will have the majority vote." Aiden blinked. That sounded an awful lot like logic to him. He didn't trust her. His right hand clasped into a fist. "Your dress is ugly," he told her rudely. "Says the boy in a gown with his ass hanging out." She sniffed loudly. "Besides, I'm hoping your Dad's insurance pays me enough so I can afford a whole new wardrobe." Aiden closed his eyes tightly and let out a long, slow breath. It sounded loud in a room suddenly devoid of any other noise. He sat there quivering while the doctor waited in complete silence. "I rape myself and Connor is gone," he said quietly, and the tears started to fall. Part 2: Connor The little fucker has mad, mad kissing skills. The boy knocked me for a fucking loop; he took my breath away. Fuck a duck; he's driving me out of my mind. I stood in the stall of the men's room and slowly jacked my cock. I'd been doing this a couple times a day since I no longer had a functional cocksucker; but the images in my mind were not even of Aiden's amazing mouth working its magic on my cock. In my mind I was kissing the fuck out of him while his long, skinny legs wrapped around me and my hips fucked up against his. Goddamn! I came with a gasp, letting the pearly liquid squirt into the little plastic medicine cup I'd pilfered. I massaged my big cock a few more times, milking the last drops of semen so that they dripped slowly in with the rest. It was CCCC5. This was Aiden's method of telling time in the hospital and while I don't know exactly what it means, I know Aiden. I'd bet anything that "Connor's Cock" makes an appearance in there somewhere. The bottom line is that it means he had been in the hospital for five days now. I haven't slept much for the past five days. The hospital has allowed me to stay in Aiden's room regardless of visiting hours after they had to restrain and sedate him the first night. He screamed my name at the top of his lungs until they let me spend the night with him. He's been merely difficult, rude, and emotional since then; but there's not a single person who blames him for that. I washed up, and then headed to his room where I found him alone finally. He'd spent several hours with the new psychiatrist. I was glad about that. I pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and brought them to Aiden, reached under both the covers and his gown, and placed them on top and around his soft cock. "Uh, hi Connor," he said carefully, watching my confusing actions. Did I spill something?" "No." I went back around the bed, pulled my chair up so that I sat right next to his head and leaned forward to whisper directly into his ear. "I brought you a little gift, cocksucker," I growled softly, and handed him the small, plastic cup. Aiden looked up at me as he took the cup, so I got to see his pupils blow wide the moment he realized what it was. "Oh..." he breathed. He brought the cup to his nose and smelled it as if it were a wine or something. He's a crazy little fucker. I'm not sure I've seen anything hotter, though, than when his tongue snaked out to dip into the cup for a taste. "It should still be warm from my body, Spaz," I whispered in his ear. "I was just in the bathroom stroking my big cock and realized my cocksucker was probably getting pretty hungry, yeah?" He groaned while his tongue began lapping at the white, viscous fluid in the cup. "I was standing in there with my legs apart and missed seeing your red head down there sucking me." This was a lie, of course; I had NOT been thinking about Spaz sucking my cock, I had been thinking about that other thing he wants me to do to him. That act which no longer seemed quite so impossible to me; although it was not even feasible until Aiden healed. It was amazing how differently I looked at things ever since I thought he had died. "And I thought that it was a shame you couldn't get your regular reward for being a good cocksucker; because it's not your fault you can't service me here. So I'll make sure you get your daily reward, Spaz; I'll take care of you." Aiden's head was rolling on the pillow while my words did their trick. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring. "But when we get you home; you're going to have to earn this reward, Spaz. You're going to have to work hard all night to please my cock. And it's been days since anyone has cleaned my foreskin... who's going to clean up that mess and keep it clean?" He was moaning non-stop now. "I think it'll take you at least a couple hours to clean it the first time. And my feet, too. You haven't been paying enough attention to my feet. Especially the bottoms and in between each of the toes. I want you to really get your tongue in there and..." I was gearing up to talk about making him work on my balls and ass; about piss; about cum... But, none of this stored ammunition was required. Aiden came into the paper towels with a shuddering groan, and I stood with a grin and left the room chuckling evilly. I almost collided with Mrs. Burke in the hallway. She was a thirtyish African American woman who was quite pretty. She had been at the hospital the first night when all the drama unfolded, and she had lurked quietly around Aiden for days watching my parents, watching me, before I finally confronted her and asked her what the fuck she wanted. My eyes narrowed at her now and I motioned toward Aiden's door with my chin. "He's just cleaning up and is a bit indecent. He should be ready for company in a little while." "I was coming to talk with you, anyway," she said. This caused my stomach to drop. She was the biggest threat to my plans for Aiden; in fact, she threatened everything about everything in my family. She was from the Ohio Department of Job and Family Services and her job was CPS; Child Protective Services. She could remove Aiden from our fucking home. "I'm meeting with your parents at your Mom's house this afternoon about three. I'd like you to be there for the conversation." "What's this about?" "Aiden, of course." I shook my head. "I really want to be part of that conversation, but Aiden's starting some physical therapy this afternoon and I think I should be there to help him." I expected her to argue about this, but instead a small smile ghosted across her lips. "How about we meet here at the hospital then? I'll see if I can get us a conference room or something?" "Yeah, okay." I took an hour to run home and grab a shower, some clean clothes, and my file folder. My plans for Aiden inside the folder suddenly looked really silly, like a child playing at being an adult. But this might be my chance to make them come true and I wasn't going to blow the opportunity just because I was feeling inadequate all of the sudden. When I got back to the hospital and entered Aiden's room, I saw that he was asleep and a strange man in a suit was standing beside his bed. He didn't look like a doctor; he looked like a visitor. "Who are you?" I demanded. My confrontational skills had grown somewhat in the past week. I didn't give a fuck if people thought I was rude; he was standing right next to Aiden's bed and I didn't know him. His head jerked up as if he'd been lost in thought. In fact, it appeared he had tears in his eyes and he quickly wiped them away. "I didn't mean to disturb anybody," he said, starting to move toward the door. "I just wanted to see him." "Who are you?" "I... I..." his shoulder slumped as if I had defeated him in some way. He gestured toward the bed with a listless hand. "My... that is I..." he gulped and closed his eyes, then opened them again. "My son did this." The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my fists and teeth clenched tightly. "You shouldn't be here, Mr. Mathews." He didn't look anything like a pig farmer; he looked like a businessman. He also didn't look to be a threat, but I wasn't about to stand down. "I know," he gulped again. "I just had to see him." "I'm the one who hurt Trevor," I said, just so he was clear on the matter. "I know who you are, Connor. The D.A. is trying to get my wife and me to cooperate and press charges against you: Breaking and Entering, Trespassing, Assault, Deadly force." His hand waved again. "Then I guess I'll see you in court, Mr. Mathews. I'd like you to leave Aiden's room now." The man held up his hand to ward off my malice. "My son did THIS," he whispered in anguish, and a tear streaked his cheek. He swallowed roughly again and cleared his throat. "I want to know if Trevor or the other boys are in danger from you." "Not if they stay away from Aiden." He nodded at this, as if it's what he expected. "How is Trevor?" The question came from a hoarse voice in the bed. Mr. Mathews and I turned our heads to look at Aiden who was watching us carefully. "What?" We both said, although I'm sure we heard him fine. "How is Trevor?" Mr. Mathews blinked at him a couple of times silently, and then looked down at his shoes. "He had to have surgery to have the... uh, destroyed organ removed. He should actually be released from the hospital today, but he's heading to a juvenile facility until the hearing." "Okay," Aiden said. I think he surprised all three of us by not saying anything else. "Well..." Mr. Mathews started to move toward the door, and then he turned around and looked at me. "My wife and I want to focus on Trevor. He needs counseling; he needs help. We don't think we have anything to gain by seeing you punished. We plan to ask the D.A. to drop the charges against you and let them know we won't cooperate." He looked back at Aiden in the bed. "I'm very sorry for what happened to you, Aiden. I'd give anything to be able to undo it; for both you and for Trevor." He left the room; but Aiden was still watching me carefully. His green eyes were liquid emeralds, but I knew that there was a hell of a storm raging just beneath their placid surface. His body seemed to be constantly taut with the pressure of holding it all inside. We held gazes while we listened to the echoing footfalls fade down the corridor. "Are you going to cancel your plans?" He asked me. His voice and his expression were completely somber. "My plans?" I asked innocently, but realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach that he knew me way too well. I don't think there was any way he could know for sure what I was planning; but the look on his face said otherwise. The darkness from earlier in the week was still a noose around my neck, choking me daily with the fear of what almost happened. I would never forgive those assholes; never. I meant to ensure they'd never threaten Aiden again. "Cancel your plans, Connor. I need you to not be in prison. Do you hear what I'm really saying, Connor? I will die if you go to prison. THAT'S the nightmare, you know? It's not reliving what happened; it's losing you to your revenge." I had no defense at all to a clear statement of need from him. I would do as he asked me to do. I nodded without meeting his eyes and headed out the door to call my friend Riley to tell him I didn't need the gun he was trying to get for me. The meeting at three o'clock started when I entered five minutes early and saw my Ma sitting in the room alone. She looked as if the silk scarf around her neck weighed a hundred pounds; it dragged her shoulders down and bent her back into a posture she would have corrected in her children. I sat across from her. "How is he?" She asked tiredly. "I come every day but he won't see me." "I know," I told her. "He's healing; but he's angry." "I didn't know it was that bad, Connor." "I know," I sighed. "No one knew it was going to get THAT bad. But you knew it was bad enough and you did nothing to stop it." She nodded and looked away. I glanced at the clock with a feeling of dread. Many things were likely to change for Aiden and me in the next hour; I could feel it upon the air. It was like right before a thunderstorm, before the crash of lightening that released the torrents. Even knowing it was about to start did not prevent you from getting wet. The ozone of the coming storm was making my nose itch. "Look, Ma. When the time comes during the meeting... I just want you to know that I will take care of everything for Aiden. All of it. You won't have to do anything." "What?" "But I'll send you a check for twenty-five percent of the money every single month. No strings; just money for doing nothing every month." "What are you talking...?" At that moment my Dad and Mrs. Burke entered the conference room, chatting with one another. Ma and Dad nodded to each other and everyone sat. I blinked as another image was juxtaposed atop the one in the room; I had a memory of them sitting exactly like this in a conference room for the signing of their divorce papers. "I won't beat around the bush," Mrs. Burke said. "I need to know what the plan is for Aiden when he leaves the hospital. Who will care for him; what are his schooling plans for the future?" There was silence, which my father finally coughed into and said, "uh... well, school will be out for the summer by the time Aiden is healed..." "Next year?" Mrs. Burke asked firmly. "I supposed we could look into a private school or something." "So that he can be beaten up by rich kids instead of poor ones?" I asked. Mrs. Burke bit her lip, and my dad bristled at me. "Well, if you have a plan, Connor, why not share it?" He growled at me. I opened my beaten up folder. "I do have a plan. I told you before that I would like to homeschool Aiden. I have the forms all filled out." "You can't do that, son. It's a great idea, but you're heading to college in the fall when Aiden needs to return to high school." "That's why I want him to go with me." Crickets. Or, at least it seemed there should be crickets in the silence that followed this announcement. "What?" "You've already gotten me approved for an apartment, Dad. The plan was to share with a roommate; I want the roommate to be Aiden. I'll go to school and I'll also homeschool Aiden as my "job"." "We don't have the money for th..." "I want you to start sending the child support money to me instead of to Ma." This time, both my parents exploded, but I noticed that Mrs. Burke was watching me very thoughtfully and didn't seem the least bit surprised by the conversation. "You're just a kid yourself, Connor! This is a stupid idea. You have sports, and parties, and girlfriends..." "I need that money!" My Dad turned at this and sneered at my Ma. "Yes, the money. Thanks for your priorities. You haven't even been taking care of Aiden with that money. Connor bought him clothes. Connor met with the school. Connor tracked him down and saved..." My Dad trailed off as if he just realized what he had been saying. His gaze swept off of my Ma and over to look at me. "You really mean to do this, don't you?" "Yes, sir," I said, mouth dry. "But I can't pay for... oh." My Ma lifted her gaze to look at me directly, too. The coin I put in her slot earlier finally dropped. "Oh." Mrs. Burke looked all around the table, but my Dad was not quite ready to give in. "Connor," he shook his head sadly, "I know you want to help him. But you can't sacrifice your own life to do it. He needs therapy, he needs care..." "It is not a sacrifice to care for Aiden; and Dr. Kirker actually lives in Columbus," I told him. "I talked to her today. She would see him as an..." "Who?" "Dr. Kirker. His psychiatrist. He would have regular appointments with her. He's also going to use our community pool during the summer to get his strength back. I talked to the swimming coach there, and while Aiden isn't in shape to be on a team, the coach said he'd help Aiden out and provide some physical therapy for him. In the fall, he could use the facilities at Ohio State. I haven't checked that part out yet, but..." "I can make sure it works," Mrs. Burke said quietly. Ma and Dad turned to look at her. "You can't be serious about this," Dad said to her. She folded her hands and looked at him coldly. "Mr. Cavanaugh, my assessment is that Aiden's parents have known he was suffering physical abuse for an extended period of time. He's been beaten multiple times over multiple years. He spends most of his time alone. Although there seems to be plenty of money, he is not in therapy, he has only recently acquired fit clothing, and he receives the bare minimum of care and oversight. Until Connor inserted himself in the process, Aiden really had no one at all. If you do not seriously consider Connor's offer, I will take this before a judge and petition to have your parental rights terminated. Aiden may become a ward of the state of Ohio." "No judge in his right mind would terminate my parental rights," Dad said angrily, but also a little uncertainly. "And Katherine will never allow the money going to Connor." "If you give Connor guardianship, your rights stay intact. You can always override decisions you don't like." Ma wasn't really listening to Mrs. Burke; she was still looking directly at me. "I'll do it," she said, nodding at me in agreement. I nodded back. Dad started with surprise, his head whipping around to look at her. Then he regarded me thoughtfully for a few more minutes. "I want to talk this over with my attorney. But draw up the paperwork for guardianship and I'll do it if he's in agreement." "I'll need more money than you give Mom," I told him. "Aiden needs more than he's been getting. Would you consider giving me what you were willing to pay the mental hospital?" Dad bit his lip, glanced at his ex-wife and Mrs. Burke. "I'll think about that, too; it's a lot of money." "You'll give HIM more money, but you wouldn't give it to me?" "He'll use it for Aiden," Dad said angrily, rising to his feet. "Connor? I'd like a further word with you, please?" Mrs. Burke glanced at me and then waited while Ma and Dad left the room. The two argued on their way down the hall; it made me sad to hear it. So much energy spent on trying to make the other miserable. I could remember when it wasn't that way; I wished that they could, too. "That was some pretty fancy footwork. You planned, and plotted, and manipulated." I didn't respond to this. I had learned from Aiden that silence was sometimes your very best answer. "You don't particularly strike me as being as nice of a guy as most people think you are," Mrs. Burke said to me. "Then why are you helping me?" "I'm not helping you; I'm helping Aiden. I think we can both agree on that." She glanced away thoughtfully before adding, "Besides, a mother bear is mostly known for her teeth and her claws, yes?" "Yeah. I have those." "Connor, I need to know that you're going to see this through until he turns eighteen. You can't just drop out in a year when it gets really old and tired. He needs you until he's an adult. Even when it's hard." "I've been watching out for him in my own way for the past fifteen years. I don't expect that will stop even when he's eighteen. I mean no disrespect, but you don't know what the hell you're talking about; life with Aiden is always hard in some ways. But it's simply worth it." She smiled at me. "I think I like you quite a lot, Connor Cavanaugh. I have two things to tell you. The first is that you'll also get a check from the State of Ohio." "What?" "Under certain circumstances if I think it's in the benefit of the child and if I think that having you step up as guardian will save the state money, I can redirect some of those saved funds to help you out." "Wow. Thanks; then maybe I won't have to find a job and can concentrate on his homeschooling." "That's the other thing. We're not doing the homeschooling." "I WILL NOT SEND HIM BACK..." I had risen to my feet and was pointing directly in her face. She was merely smirking at me while I stood threateningly over her. "What? What am I missing?" "Yes, I like you quite a lot. Aiden is lucky to have you." "We're lucky to have each other." "We're not doing the homeschooling. Sit down and keep your claws in. You'll approve of this plan if your ego can handle it." I sat, but watched her warily. She shuffled her papers and then looked at me. "Aiden could teach his own classes in high school. He's smarter than his instructors. I'm having him tested this week, but I already know what they'll show." "He's a genius," I agreed. She shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But there's nothing left for high school to teach him. We're going to get him to test out of his final two years of school. When I contact Ohio State about his physical therapy and using their facilities, I'm going to see what I can do about getting him enrolled there in the fall." "Enrolled? You mean... college?" "You would be freshmen together. Can your ego take that?" I was aghast, agog, dumbfounded, astounded, and in sudden need of Aiden's fucking thesaurus. "Does Dad know? Is he ready to pay for that?" "You let me worry about your Dad, Connor. You worry about Aiden." I stood up, stunned, and leaned my hands on the table to get my balance. My eyes drifted up to the clock. Forty minutes. Just forty minutes ago I had smelled change upon the air in this room. Now, Aiden was mine. I wandered out the door and through the hospital halls back to Aiden's room. I hadn't even thanked the woman who had done so much for us; I think she just efficiently gathered all her papers and left, but I'm honestly not sure about that. Aiden was asleep again. His red hair stood straight up all over his head, looking like a blazing porcupine was sitting atop his head. I grinned at him as I watched him sleep. His bruises were starting to turn lighter; the scab on his eye was crusty and healing well; and best of all, the ferocious course of antibiotics they were administering seemed to be keeping infection at bay. I cupped his cheek in my hand and ran my thumb over his chapped lips. They parted beneath my touch as he welcomed my large thumb into his mouth; and he sucked on it like a baby. The action of Aiden sucking my thumb stirred an ancient memory inside me, but the picture wouldn't come quite clear. Whatever it was, it made me feel warm and protective toward him. I'd make sure he never knew the full truth of what had happened today. Yes, I'd tell him what it meant for us, but not the deals I'd struck to obtain it; those would only hurt him more. Soon, his green eyes opened and looked up at me trustingly. "Hi, Connor," he said around my thumb. "Hey," I said. "I didn't want to wake you but I have some things to tell you." It was approximately ten minutes later that Aiden's whoops of joy resounded throughout the entire wing of the hospital, ringing in the air like the purest of bells. *If you are reading this, then you survived the horror of Chapter 6 and stuck with the brothers through their darkest day; I'm glad. I hope to post again before Christmas, but it is likely to be primarily focused on Aiden coming home and putting a very thorough end to the celibacy conundrum. Happy Holidays to all; beware the Scrinch. seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net