Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2023 01:00:00 -0700
From: John Henry <niftyjhenry1988@gmail.com>
Subject: Growing Up Ry Chapter 5 (Gay/Incest)

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DISCLAIMER:  This story is a work of fiction, and contains explicit,
sexual content involving adults over the age of 21 and minors under the
age of 18, with scenes of incest involving step-parents/step-children,
and sibilings.  If viewing this material is illegal where you live, OR
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Chapter 5


Charlie's bath didn't help. He felt sick to his stomach and his body
hurt. Ry had to finish washing him and helped him to bed. Ry held him
close and stroked his hair. Charlie was grateful for the love and
attention he was getting. His last detox didn't go so well, and he and
Sammy did it at the same time while living under a bridge. Charlie felt
like he was going to die.


This time was much easier. Ry stayed up all night to make sure that
Charlie had everything he needed. Charlie knew better than to shoot up
the methadone, but he craved the rush it gave him. It always made him
feel alive before it knocked him out. This last time, however, was
different. He felt like he was about to die, and the only thing, he felt,
that kept him alive was getting Bethany to safety.


"It's okay," Ry kept repeating. He didn't really know what else to do.
He read what he could online, but almost everything was an advert for a
help line or facility. What little information he did find seemed
patronizing or downplayed what addicts experienced. He had faint memories
of his biological father overdosing once, but he was too young at the
time to fully understand what was happening.


Charlie's sleep was fitful, but he at least got some sleep. Ry was tired,
but due to the unplowed roads, he was able to take the day off from work.
It's not like he needed the money. He worked to keep himself busy and his
depression at bay. After Charlie ran away, Ry began to isolate and
depression started to take hold more often than not. It was Ronda who
convinced him to get a therapist and to do something outside of the
house.


At first, Ry didn't want to work. He had dropped out of college, having
changed majors multiple times. Not wanting to take time away from
Charlie, Ry turned down several invitations from out of state
universities. Billy's uncle was good to his word, having set up college
funds for all the boys, but Ry's heart wasn't in it. The discoveries he
made after Will's death occupied his mind to the point of near insanity.


He started off with a therapist who didn't mesh well. The guy was pushy
and kept trying to find ways to blame Ry for everything that was wrong in
his life. Even when Ry explained that his biological father tried killing
him, the therapist asked what Ry could've done differently to have not
angered his father to that point. Taking a page from Will's book, Ry
turned the guy into the ethics board and filed a lawsuit; the case was
settled out of court and the therapist, he heard, became a youth pastor.


Instead of finding another therapist, he went to his general practitioner
and got a prescription for an antidepressant. It helped a little bit, but
it was getting his job that helped the most. Ry got a job at a family
owned diner downtown. He worked his way up to head cook within a couple
months after an owner saw him making himself Beef Wellington.


The work was challenging but nothing he couldn't handle, especially since
he'd been cooking most of his life. Hell, for a long time, he was the
only cook in the Barton household.


Around eight in the morning, Charlie woke up. His body hurt more than
before he went to sleep and his craving for drugs was still there. Ry was
still asleep, only having passed out a couple hours before. Charlie
leaned down and kissed his brother's bare chest. He then laid down his
head and listened to Ry's heart beating. A few tears escaped and landed
softly on the young man's skin.


Guilt hit Charlie hard. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Ry. He
couldn't keep lying to himself and everyone else. Charlie wanted to take
another hit. He wanted his pain to go away. His head filled with fear, as
if he'd die without the methadone. Charlie knew he'd hurt Ry if he got
high again, but his brain kept trying to justify taking the drug over
Ry's feelings.


Charlie got out of bed and looked for the clothes he wore the night he
came home. He knew he still had enough left for another hit or two. I
won't do anymore after that, Charlie lied to himself. Deep down, he knew
he'd want to do more; he'd told himself that story many, many times over
the last year. He went to the dirty clothes bin and pulled everything
out. He found his pants and rummaged through the pockets; he found
nothing. Anxiety kicked in as he began looking through every article and
scrap of clothing; still nothing.


"Hey," Ry said, still half asleep, "what's going on?"


"Just go back to bed," Charlie replied, a little dismissively. He was
too occupied to have noticed the annoyed look Ry gave him. Out of
desperation, Charlie asked, "Did you pull anything out of my pockets the
night I came home?"


"You mean your drugs?"


Charlie froze on the spot. He looked over his shoulder and saw the pain
behind his brother's stern face. "I only want to throw it away...you
know...so it won't get anyone in trouble."


"Good," Ry said, clearly seeing through the lie, "because I flushed it
down the toilet."


"You did?" Anger bubbled up in the young teen's throat. "Why? It
wasn't yours. I could've done it myself."


"I didn't want to risk you doing it again. You're an addict, Charlie.
You can't be trusted to manage yourself on that level."


"It's not your decision to make! I'm old enough to know what I'm
doing."


"You're a 14-year-old, single father, junky. I really don't think you're
in any position to be making your own choices, especially in regards to
your addictions."


"You don't have the right!"


"Maybe not legally, but you are living in my house. My niece, your
daughter, has a right to a safe, stable and drug free household. You do
not have the right to endanger that, nor do you have the right to expect,
let alone demand, that I ignore what's hurting and/or killing you. I love
you, Charlie. I'm not going to just sit back and let you die."


Charlie fell to his knees. Anxiety kicked in and the room started to
spin. He felt sick to his stomach. He barely heard Ry's bare feet on the
hardwood floor. Charlie's breathing became labored. He felt Ry half-lift,
half-pull him to the bed and a garbage can thrust under his nose.
Charlie's stomach lurched but nothing came up. The pain of withdrawal and
dry heaving was excruciating.


Ry sat next to his baby brother and rubbed his back. "I can only imagine
what you're going through. It can't be easy after everything Justin did
to you, but this can't be the way to cope with things. Bethany needs her
dad; she needs you. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get
better, Charlie, but it requires you to fight harder than you have ever
fought before. Our daughter needs you." Ry paused. He meant to say,
"Your daughter." Luckily, Charlie was in mid-wretch and didn't seem to
notice.


When they were both certain that Charlie was better, they got back into
bed. Ry pulled Charlie into a spooning position and held the boy close.
Charlie started snoring soon after. Ry kissed his brother's shoulder and
got some sleep of his own.


Charlie woke up a few hours later. He heard Bethany crying and woke up
from a dead sleep. His head and body still hurt, and a part of him was
still pissed at Ry from tossing his stash; however, he knew Ry was only
doing what was best for him and the baby.


As his senses caught up to his brain, he realized that he was spooning a
soundly sleeping Ry. Charlie also became aware that he was holding Ry's
cock in his hand...and that Ry had a boner. Memories of the last time
they had sex came back, and his heart sank, while his stomach lurched.
The last time they had sex, Charlie was in a dark place and didn't quite
understand that what he was doing was wrong. His life was dramatically
changed after that night, and he had wished that things had been
different.


A couple of tears filled his eyes, as he pulled away from his brother. As
quietly as he could, Charlie got dressed and left the room, making sure
not to disturb Ry.


"It's about time you got up," Ronda said, as Charlie came down the
stairs. Given her job, Ronda recognized the signs of withdrawal on her
youngest son's face. There would've been a time where she would've taken
care of him; however, she knew that Charlie needed tough love. Ronda also
knew that Charlie needed to feel his symptoms, so he'd remember how
horrible they were.


Bethany was fussing a bit in her playpen. Charlie looked down at his baby
girl and gave a weak smile. No matter how bad he felt or what kind of
mood either was in, Bethany was always the light he needed.


"I've called around to a few of my contacts," Ronda continued, as
Charlie made his way to the kitchen. "I found an inpatient facility that
takes teens. They're offices are currently closed due to the storm, but
I'm going to call in a couple of days and set up your intake."


Charlie reemerged with a cup of coffee. He hated the stuff, but he needed
a stimulant. "I'm not ready to go, yet."


"You don't have a choice, Charlie."


"Yeah, I do. I have a daughter to take care of."


"You can't take care of her, while you're getting strung out."


Charlie rolled his eyes. He didn't care if it pissed his mother off,
either. "It was the first time in almost a year, and I won't be doing it
again. Ry threw everything I had out, anyway, and I don't want to use
again."


"As glad as I am to hear all that, you still need to get into treatment,
so you can have the tools you'll need to not relapse again. You and
Bethany could've died."


"I know that, which is why I came here."


"You shouldn't have left to begin with."


Charlie glared at his mother and said, "You're one to talk."


"What's that supposed to mean?"


Charlie scoffed, unable to believe what he had just heard. "If you
hadn't tried killing Dan Clark, you and Dad would've still been together.
You wouldn't have been in prison, while I was being dragged around the
Midwest getting raped every night, Mother. Dad wouldn't have been with
Brenda, which Justin used to manipulate me, so he could get in my pants
and up my fucking ass."


"Charlie, I--"


"Save your excuses," Charlie snapped. "You can be as pious and
self-righteous as you want, but it doesn't change the fact that your
actions were a huge contributor to what happened to me, so you don't get
to lecture me about my addiction and actions. Got it?"


"Charlie," Ry said from the bottom of the stairs, "that's enough,
alright?"


Charlie looked at his brother's beautiful eyes and saw pain in them. He
knew Ry still felt guilty for his part in what happened, although Charlie
never blamed him; in fact, Ry was the only reason Charlie was as stable
as he was. Charlie went back into the kitchen and came back with a cup of
coffee for Ry, who thanked him.


"Mom's right, though, Charlie," Ry said after taking a few sips. "You
need to go into rehab. I know you don't want to, but you need to get
sober for sure; plus, we have no idea what Child Protective Services will
have to say about it."


"Why would they get involved?" Charlie asked, looking at his mother
suspiciously.


"I didn't call anyone, so lose your attitude."


Ry continued, ignoring them both, "I suspect the hospital would've
reported you and your girlfriend, since she died of a drug overdose."


"They can't," Charlie said. "Doctor-Patient confidentiality or
whatever."


"Doctors are mandatory reporters, Charlie. If they know a crime has been
committed or suspect someone is in danger, they're required to report it
to the proper authorities, including the police and CPS. We have to go
with the assumption that you've been reported."


"Why? We don't know that I have."


"The more proactive we are, the better you'll look if someone shows
up."


"What about Bethany? I'm her only parent."


Ry and Ronda shared a look, which Charlie didn't like nor trust. Ry said,
"Mom and I have talked about it, and I could become Bethany's temporary
guardian. Since Mom has a criminal record, we're not sure the Court would
allow it. Given Rick's current mental state, he can't do it. With Billy
already being Rick's guardian, it wouldn't be fair to him--"


"--I don't want either of them around my baby," Charlie interjected.


Ry ignored the interruption and pressed on. "I'm the perfect candidate.
I don't have a record of any kind, I own the house and have a stable job.
With Mom living and working here, I have reliable daycare. Not to
mention, I'm wealthy enough to not have to work if I don't want to,
thanks to Will's planning and investments."


"Sounds like you've got it all worked out without me," Charlie said,
sounding pissy.


"There's more, actually," Ry added. "I'm going to petition the Court
to become your guardian, as well. It would just make things easier."


"Who has custody of me now, then?"


"Rick still does, but given that Billy is his legal guardian, that would
technically make Billy your guardian by default."


"Fuck that," Charlie said.


"I didn't think you'd be happy about it, so once I get a chance, I'm
going to call a lawyer and get the paperwork rolling. In the meantime,
Billy has agreed to sign whatever is needed to get you into rehab."


"It doesn't sound like I'm being given a choice."


"Not really," Ry said, sadly. "I wish there was another way, but we'd
be risking losing you and Bethany to the foster system, and we all doubt
anyone would want to adopt a single, teenage, drug addict and his baby."


"Fine," Charlie said. "I'll go into rehab." He paused for a second
and let out a laugh. "Does this make you my dad and Bethany's grandpa?"


"Fuck off," Ry laughed. Even Ronda couldn't help but join in.


***


Charlie barely touched his lunch. His stomach felt like it was tied in
knots, but he forced himself to eat Ry's homemade, chicken noodle soup.
He held Bethany for a while, remembering her mother all the while. He
felt anxious that he was responsible for the little life in his arms, but
also thankful to be home, with the people he loved and trusted the most,
even if they upset him at times.


After feeding, changing and putting his daughter down for a nap, he
declared that he was going to take a nap himself. He gave his mother and
brother a hug and went up stairs.


***Coming Soon, Chapter 6***