Date: Sat, 5 Jan 2019 07:00:51 +0000 (UTC)
From: Don Cornelius <doncornelius69 (at) yahoo.com>
Subject: And Then, Everything Chapter 3 (Relationships)

This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters are real and any
similarities between this story and/or any characters in it and real life
is purely coincidental.

THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF CONSENSUAL SEXUAL ACTS BETWEEN
TEENAGE MALES. IT IS INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY! IF YOU FIND THIS
TYPE OF MATERIAL OFFENSIVE, OR IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, OR UNDER THE LEGAL AGE
TO VIEW SUCH MATERIAL THEN PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.

The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original
story.  You may not publish it or any part of it without explicit
authorization from me.

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Authors note : I can not apologize enough for the delay in getting this
chapter done. To put it bluntly, writing without a definitive end point and
an outline has proven much tougher than I'd have ever imagined, mostly due
to the limitations of my sad little brain.

I am hoping to wrap this story up in the next chapter. To be honest, I just
need to take a break from this series, but I am committed to doing it with
a conclusive ending that doesn't foreclose the option to revisit the
series. This chapter has just been really tough. Writing about Jack,
getting into his head, has been difficult to say the least. I've been
friends with and dated guys who could be pretty violent, guys who liked to
fight just to fight. Part of closing the arc on Jack's past has been
getting into thinking like those people and it's been pretty brutal, part
of the reason this has been so long in coming. There are some descriptions
of violent acts in this chapter so be careful if that kind of thing is
upsetting to you.


ROB

"Don't do that. Whatever you do, don't think you understand what he goes
through. You can't because you don't experience it and you never will. His
father and I had problems with that when we first started dating, so take
my advice. Be empathetic, it's really all he needs, but don't think you
know what it's like to walk in his shoes, because you can't."

Jack's mother had told me this about a year after we started dating when
Jack was frustrated with some racist parent who didn't want his kid being
taught Tae Kwan Do by someone so 'urban'. It really got to Jack, more than
just the casual racism he encountered on a daily basis and I made the
mistake of telling him, "I know how you feel."

He wasn't mean about it, but he looked at me like I was a stranger, as if
I'd suddenly grown another head. It got to me in a way nothing else ever
had. We had arguments about things, but this was different... it was like I
had hurt him and I didn't understand why. He never said a word about it and
I realized, after the conversation with this mother, he was afraid of what
he'd say in response so he didn't respond. Even worse than being in the
situation, having someone judge you because of something you can't change,
was having your boyfriend act as though he knew what it was like. Can't,
she'd said, not don't. There's no way I ever could understand what he went
through.

And his mother was completely right. There would never be a time when I
would know what it was like for him, and all I could do was give him what
he needed... an ear. Someone to whom he could vent. Someone who would be
empathetic and take his side, without question. Someone who wouldn't think
he was crazy and would instead just love him.

It was one thing to be black, it was quite another to be black and gay
while dating a white guy. We'd experienced it in Plano and Dallas, what I'd
started calling casual racism. It so normal to people, ubiquitous even,
that they just didn't think about it; The khaki chino of personal flaws. It
was that nonchalance that made me alternatively sick and angry. Especially
when it came from other gay guys who seemed perfectly fine asking me
questions like, "What do black guys taste like?" or "Is he real aggressive
in bed? Does he just own your ass?" There were two types... those who were
just racist, and those who fetishized being with someone who was black. I
didn't know which was worse.

As we discovered our first weekend out, Austin was better but it was still
there, just more subtle. It was as if the worst practitioners could sense
how close they were to the edge and pulled back just enough to not cause
conflict. I hated people who were like that. It brought the worst pieces of
myself out and I'd be overwhelmed by the desire to beat them. I may not be
able to inflict the damage Jack could, but I could definitely make some of
them hurt. And I felt like they needed to.

But there were bright spots. That first night we were out, we met a couple
who were black and Hispanic. James had relocated for work and his husband,
Javier, had moved with him. They'd been in Austin about 6 months and really
liked it. They were older than us, and had only been together about a year,
but they were really awesome and made us feel a little more comfortable
when we were out and ran into them.

The staring was another thing. Jack told me to ignore it, that it had
nothing to do with us as a couple and more to do with the fact that we were
both hot. Yeah, it was patronizing and I usually let him get away with
it. At this point, after years of training from Josh, I could tell when
someone was interested. I may still have sucked at determining their level
of interest, but I could at least tell. And we were hot together, I'll
admit it. I know it sounds vain, but Jack is a walking porno star and while
I may not have thought much of my looks, I actually did know that others
did, despite what Jack thought about my cluelessness.

But those weren't the looks we would occasionally get. You could see it on
the faces of the offenders, as if there was a large display hovering over
them flashing 'BIGOT!' You dare not say anything to them, because they've
done nothing overt. But you can see it in their eyes and it just makes you
want to take a Silkwood shower after punching them as hard as you can.

The Thursday after we got back from Dallas we decided to go out and that's
what really prompted this trip down memory lane. There was a group of catty
queens who'd been eye fucking us for 30 minutes and it really got on my
nerves. Jack blew it off and was pretty desperate to take my mind off it,
but that wasn't happening.

I was two weeks in on the Lexapro and while I wasn't back to myself
completely, I was functional. I was able to make decisions and every little
thing didn't hurt so much. I guess the best way to explain it is that I was
aware something was wrong, but I wasn't dwelling on it and it wasn't
stopping me. It slowed me down some which was unfortunate especially for
Willy who studied with me frequently. I talked to Griner about something to
help with concentration, mentioning Adderall which caused her to go into
kind of a convulsive fit. Instead she game me a small dose of Wellbutrin
and told me to give it a week. I'd been on it two days and could feel the
difference. Now, it was hard not to focus on something. I've heard people
with Aspbergers describe what it's like, to have this all consuming desire
to learn everything you can about something RIGHT THEN.

That was how I felt, a compulsion, only instead of using it productively, I
just ended up staring at the people I should have ignored and ignoring the
people who were our actual friends. I knew it wasn't helping Jack and I
knew he was acutely aware of what was happening around him. Oh, he was
trying to be oblivious but he'd already busted himself on that act long
ago. He memorized every room he walked into and he sized up people 20 or 30
feet away from him at all times, looking for weaknesses he could exploit. I
asked him if he did that because he was seriously concerned about it or if
it was just habit from his past. He just smiled and told me he was just
being cautious, as if it was the most normal thing to guess that the best
way to take down a complete stranger who has shown no interest in you,
should they decide to attack, is their left knee which from their gait
appears to be just slightly weaker than the right.

Jack trying to pretend not to notice shit was actually irritating
especially in my current state because I knew he noticed it and I wanted
him to be as angry as I was. And then it occurred to me, I'M not this way!
Which was why Willy and Susie, who had decided to come out with us, were
looking at me strangely. My hyperawareness wasn't just distracting, it was
REALLY out of character, made more so by the fact that I couldn't hide it
like Jack could.

I tried having a drink, hoping it would calm me a little and it did. Then I
had another and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I wasn't drunk, but the
interaction made for the rapid onset of tiredness. Soul crushing
tiredness. The night hadn't really been good anyway so no one was
particularly disappointed that it was ending early.

When we got back to the condo, Jack tried to talk to me for a bit but my
eyes wouldn't stay open. I had apologized to Willy and Susie, but we hadn't
discussed things. I finally told him I thought it was the Wellbutrin and
that we could really talk about it in the morning. And that was all I
remember. Sitting down on the bed, talking a bit, and then waking up with a
nudge from Jack who had apparently put me to bed.

Allow me one more time to reiterate how completely amazing my boyfriend
is. I will be fighting bitches daily to keep them off him if anyone ever
finds out he's not as brutal on the inside as he looks.

We had breakfast and I told him what had been going on in my head. I also
decided to cut the Wellbutrin in half since it appeared even the small dose
I was on was mixing with the Lexapro in a weird way. I then called the
doctor, let her know what I was 'thinking' about doing (I'd discovered
years ago that these conversations always went better when I asked for
advice or permission rather than telling the doctor what I'd done) and she
agreed that it would be a good idea, but to keep her updated. I also talked
to her about the alcohol thing and she pointedly told me that mixing
alcohol and anti-depressants was a super-maxi bad idea, which was one of
the reasons why I'd stopped with the Lexapro when I was still in high
school. I was really hoping for some advice on HOW to do it so I didn't
fuck things up which, in hindsight, was a really stupid thing to expect
from your psychiatrist.

"Now Rob, I have to tell you shouldn't drink while on AD meds but, if
you're going to, this is how you do it."

-APA Psychiatrist of the Year, 2014

After breakfast, we got ready and went to campus. We ran into Ben on the
way and he was still kind of reserved around me. I knew it was because of
my reaction almost three weeks before and I knew I needed to deal with it,
but I just... well, it didn't feel like the right time. He seemed OK with
it and I was kind of hoping I wouldn't ever have to really get into it with
him because I knew it was going to be painful and right now it wasn't at
all what I needed.

Willy met me outside and gave me shit for being so 'weird' the night before
and I explained the thing about the drugs. Then, of course, he decided to
give me shit about mixing drugs and booze, which he continued to do AFTER
we sat down. That drew questions from the other guys about what I'd been
taking and where they could get it.

College in 2014. Everyone was looking to score and when you told them it
was just a generic AD, they still were curious, as if it might have some
codeine in it.

By this point in September, we'd settled into a nice routine. While I was
still not completely myself, I was getting through in good shape. Helene
was happy with the work I was doing and I was going to do well my first
semester grade wise. At least I thought so... when I mentioned to my father
that it looked like four B's and an A, he blurted out, "That's just
unacceptable."

That was when I came clean with him about the depression. I didn't want to,
but I didn't need him beating the crap out of me either. No, the depression
wasn't an excuse and I knew in some of those classes I could have gotten an
A... had things not hit the way they did. There was just no getting around
the fact that I flat out bombed some things because of how I was feeling.

Jack, in contrast, was excelling and if there was anything bright and shiny
in my life at that point, it would be him. While the Longhorns weren't
blowing anyone away, his play was solid and with every game he showed a
little more of himself. Moreover, Willy had told me he was opening up with
the other guys on the team which meant a lot to me since he wasn't nearly
as scary when you saw him smiling. Jack could handle himself, but it helped
when you had a team who would stand up for you, on and off the field.

By OU weekend, I had a pretty good handle on myself. The mix I was on had
me stable and feeling, if not great, then good and somewhat normal. The
bonus was that it was managed my anxiety so well that I completely cut out
the benzos. The drawback was that it fucked with my sleep.

Jack was so used to me sleeping soundly and later than him that when I
didn't, he thought something was seriously wrong. I think what he really
didn't like was being unable to watch me sleep before he got up and the
idea of me being up and lonely during the night, in that order. The latter,
he admitted to me at one point, was a real concern not because he was
afraid of me doing something to myself, but because he just couldn't bear
the thought that I wouldn't have someone awake with me, like me watching TV
by myself at 330 in the morning made him disturbingly sad.

He didn't realize how right he actually was. It was lonely on those nights
and I dreaded them. I was getting to the point where I was afraid of
bedtime. In some ways it was worse than the aftermath of the accident when
I would cry myself to sleep.

After about two weeks of that, I asked the doctor for some more Ambien and
that kicked it pretty well. I was getting comfortable with the idea of
medication being a daily part of my life. I wasn't thrilled with it, but it
no longer scared me the way it once did since it was giving me the ability
to kind of live normally.

JACK

We were going in separate directions. Rob had a handle on what was
happening to him, but he was still hurting. Meanwhile, things were simply
going beautifully for me. School was great and while our record as a team
wasn't stellar, I knew I was at least doing a good job on the
field. Despite everything going so well for me, there was only one thing I
wanted, for him to be back to normal.

It didn't dawn on me until the middle of October that this may well be the
new normal and I suddenly remembered my conversation with Mark more than a
month before. It hit me so squarely that I actually had to stop and sit for
a bit. I must have looked like a freak, sitting on a bench in the middle of
campus, slouching with my mouth hanging open as I ran through everything in
my head... what if he didn't get better? What if this was just the way he'd
be from now on?

And that's when my heart broke and I started to cry. I could lie and say
the tears were only for him, and most of them were, but there was an
element of me feeling sorry for myself because the life I'd envisioned and
been working toward now was in jeopardy. He would always feel less than,
like he wasn't good enough. He would always struggle, to varying degrees,
with simple things. It would eat at him and I would have a ringside seat to
it. I would get to see him in pain every single day. Was I brave enough to
take it? To see him hurting constantly, disappointed with himself?

At that point, I didn't know the answer despite what I'd told Mark. I loved
him with everything I had, but I wasn't sure it would be enough to help me
handle seeing him torn up and working hard to appear normal, every day.

I wallowed in my own pity for about 10 minutes before I heard my inner
voice shout, "MAN THE FUCK UP."

There was just no way to stop the pain, for him or for myself. Things would
hurt, but I wouldn't leave because there was one thing worse than seeing
Rob in pain, and that was not seeing him at all. At my darkest, I had no
one and I fell apart. I didn't cry or mourn like Rob, I expressed my
feelings with sex and violence, sometimes at the same time. I didn't have
him to stop me, to make me think... to make me feel. At the end, I stopped
feeling everything. That was when I walked away, but that didn't mean I was
healthy, far from it in fact.

When he opened up to me, I'd felt the first spark of hope since the
accident. Still, it took me more than a year to recover. I knew I wasn't
good until the end of our junior year. There had occasionally been times
when I'd wanted to hurt someone, occasionally just to see them in pain. But
Rob stopped me without even realizing it, every time. It wasn't until June
2013 that I realized I was different... that I had changed for good, I'd
come back from the abyss, and Rob was the one who brought me back. He saved
my life and I simply couldn't imagine mine without him in it, even if it
hurt to see him in pain.

I wouldn't, couldn't, let go. It wasn't even about what I owed him, it was
simply about my own desire to be with him forever.

When I got home his smile completely dissolved the facade I'd so carefully
put in place. He saw right through to the sadness as if it was written in
bright neon hovering over my head. He didn't flinch or even turn off the
stove where he was cooking dinner. He just walked over to me and hugged me
tightly. I put my hand on the back of his head and hugged him back, just as
fiercely, letting out a howl as my shame and grief spilled out,
unrestricted. It was like he was sucking out the pain and frustration and
it wasn't the first time it had felt that way when he hugged me like
this. He's just so beautiful in every way.

After I calmed down, he didn't pester me about it. He probably thought
whatever it was, I'd talk about it in my own time, as I usually did with
things that got to me. But that wouldn't happen this time. No, this time
I'd keep the cause of my outburst a secret. I would have a tough enough
time looking at myself in the mirror from now on without the added horror
of seeing his fear of me leaving him in his eyes every time I so much as
glanced at him.

I also knew, at that point, I needed someone I could talk to and that
someone ended up being Ben. He and Rob didn't talk much when I wasn't
around. Rob was out of it and Ben was still so freaked out about what had
happened when he mentioned Toby that he was scared to death he'd do
something to make things worse. When he'd admitted it to me, I realized he
was a really sweet guy, much like Rob.

He was remarkably empathetic which was weird for a straight guy, especially
when you consider we weren't lifelong friends. What really amazed me was
that he didn't judge or offer advice unless I specifically asked. He was an
ear, someone to listen to me, someone with whom I could unburden myself
without fear of Rob finding out. The third time we had a sit down he also
came clean about what I'd suspected since meeting him, that he was
bisexual.

It was two Sundays after my little breakdown. I'd gotten up early and gone
for a jog. When I returned, Ben was just coming back from running and we
decided to grab breakfast.

We hadn't been seated 10 minutes before he dropped the bomb.

"There's something I have to tell you" he said, clearly nervous.

"Please don't tell me you've got a thing for Rob's sister. She's already
spoken for and trust me, you can't compete."

He laughed, "Nah, I should have been honest with y'all when we first met,
but it was still kind of uncomfortable for me. I'm not 100% straight."

I smiled back at him, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety he was
feeling. "It's cool, man. So would you consider yourself bi?"

"Yeah, at this point. I've only been with a three guys but I was into it
with all of them. I find myself seriously as attracted to girls as I am to
dudes. It's been something I've tried to keep a lid on, but I'm getting
comfortable with not fighting it any longer."

"So who knows?" I asked him.

"Max, some of my bros, my mother..."

"It's a good list to start,"I replied, smiling.

"When did you come out?"

"Seventh grade, right after my father died."

"Oh, man... you must think I'm the biggest pussy in the world!"

"Not at all. Look, I figured myself out pretty early on. So did Rob. In my
case, the stress from my father's death, and a big part of that was that
I'd never told him, made it easy. The worst had happened, being gay was
nothing in comparison, you know?"

He nodded, "Still must have been rough."

"Not really, I was already a pretty good fighter at the point, so I could
defend myself and people knew it. It put a lid of those who might otherwise
have offered their opinions," I told him, laughing.

"Seriously, you need to go easy on yourself. As much as things have changed
for people coming out, it's still hard. You really don't know how your
friends and family will react. Hell, strangers... Rob and I still encounter
some of that bullshit when we're out. So don't think that this should have
happened earlier, it happened when it needed to."

"OK, I'll try to go a little easier on myself," he said sheepishly. Then,
in an abrupt change of subject, he said, "So you fight?"

I decided to come clean with him about my past, though I didn't get into
some of the more illegal things I'd done. To be honest, it hadn't come up
with people, even the ones who had figured out that I knew how to
fight. Usually, they thought I'd gone to Tae Kwon Do when I was a kid. They
had no idea it was that, karate, judo... you name it, I did it. I played
soccer one year at my mother's insistence and I only lasted the season
because she threatened me.

"So, have you ever thought about UFC?"

"No. Remember when I told you and Max that Rob made me want to be a better
person?"

He nodded.

"Well, that meant an end to fighting. I couldn't be that way any more."

He took another drink from his glass, "Was it because you were afraid he'd
be scared of you?"

I nodded, "That was a big part of it. He'd seen me fight, but only once. It
didn't seem to phase him, but he also didn't know the truth which was that
a part of me liked inflicting pain on other people. When I broke someone's
arm, I LIKED it because I was the one breaking them down, I could do
anything to them and they couldn't stop me. It makes your heart race and
it's... well, it's an amazing feeling.

It's also a terrible thing to bear when you look into the eyes of someone
who loves you and trusts you completely and you know you've done something
they'd never understand, something that would terrify them."

"Rob's not stupid, he must know..."

"No, he really doesn't. There are times I've tried explaining something to
him but he doesn't really get it. He understands the words, sure, but not
the underlying feelings and impulses. He even told me he would be OK if I
kept fighting, if I needed the outlet, when we first got together. But I
knew... there was just no way it could happen.

I saw you nodding when I was talking about breaking someone's arm..."

He sighed, then sat back in his chair. "Yeah. I've always been pretty big
and strong compared to others, but it was really extreme in Junior High. I
was, I'm ashamed to say, something of a bully and the worst part about it
is that I liked it."

"And see, that's something I never felt. Even now, I'm not ashamed of what
I've done or how I felt about it at the time. That's how I know I can't
ever go back, I can't ever give in, or my world really does come to an end,
but quick. Eventually, Rob WOULD get it, no matter how much he tried to put
it out of his mind and it will color his feelings for me and I'd know it."

"I think you should go easy on yourself... you're the one who decided to
stop."

"The anger, the rage I'd felt, just disappeared after Toby died. That's
what stopped it. Really, just paused it because I still LIKED the
feeling. Rob was what stopped it. I've heard people talk about the darkness
in them and how it's held back by someone they love, like a child, or a
spouse. I read a thing about it one time and I realized, that's me, it's my
relationship with Rob. My only real goal is to have an amazing life with
him and that falls apart if I give in."

"It's worth it, I think," he responded after looking at me in silence for a
while. "I see how he looks at you and I know he loves you. I know he'd do
anything for you..."

"There's more to it than that. The life I want, what I want to give him,
isn't possible with that in it."

"I see," he said, glumly.

"It's really OK. I can live without hurting other people just because I
can. Being with him is way better than that anyway."

"Which brings us back to the two of you... do you feel any better about
things?"

I smiled, "Yeah," I said, nodding my head. "I do. Sometimes I just need to
talk, to vent, and I think this was that. His depression has been hard on
me and it finally occurred to me that things are going to change." I
stopped, just for a second, hoping to get through the next admission
without breaking down.  "It's not just that the life I wanted with him may
not be possible, it's the prospect of seeing him in pain for so long..."

"I promise, it'll get better," Ben replied.

I smiled back at him and I know he saw the sadness in my eyes, "You can't
know that, but I appreciate you trying to make me feel better."

I left shortly after and walked around for a bit. By the time I got home,
he was already deep into a book on investing, one of the many he'd picked
up. Later that afternoon, everyone came over as usual and we ended up
having a fantastic time with everyone because, for the first time in weeks,
I was relaxed. The future may be kind of bleak but he would make the best
of it and I would be with him.

ROB

Right before Halloween, I finally worked up the courage to talk to Ben. I
ran into him that Tuesday before school and asked if he was free for
lunch. We agreed to meet at a place close to campus.

I got there first and grabbed a table, then when he got there, we ordered
and just sat there. I finally worked up the courage to say something.

"Man, I know things have been pretty weird between us ever since that night
Max brought up Toby and I wanted to..." and I stopped short, distracted
momentarily by a TV showing Jack tackling someone which brought a smile to
my face.

"... clear the air?" Ben offered.

"Yeah, sorry, I got distracted by the TV. Look, I know I scared the crap
out of you guys and you've been cool as hell about trying to cover it, but
there's no need for things to be so awkward. You and Max are friends and I
really like you guys. I just don't want you to feel like you can't be
normal around me, you know?"

He smiled, "Yeah, I do. And I'm sorry. That whole thing... well, it kinda
shocked me. I'd had such a rivalry with the guy for so long that it never
occurred to me something happened to him. Then football was over and years
later, out of the blue... well, you know..."

I smiled, "Yeah. What a way to meet a neighbor!"

"I told Jack that night that if there's anything I can do..."

"No, there really isn't. I know this sounds fucked up, but there are some
things you just don't ever really get over, but you learn how to roll with
it. I get sad sometimes and it's got nothing to do with anyone. Toby wasn't
the only person close to me I lost growing up and there are times when I
just feel beaten up. Jack always puts me back together, but these things
come out of the blue usually and there's no way to control it."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Thank you, but there's no need. I long ago accepted who I am. The accident
changed me, made me a lot softer, and there just wasn't anything to do but
accept it. I know it all sounds bad, but it's how things are and I'm OK
with it. I just don't want people thinking they need to act like they're on
egg shells around me. My problems are mine, they aren't anything you can
control."

It was almost like there was something Ben wanted to say, but then he
stopped short, staring down at the table.

"What?" I asked as I took a sip of my drink.

He looked up with a smile on this face, "That actually wasn't where I was
going."

"Really? Oh, shit... and I sometimes..."

"Make assumptions about what people are going to say and finish their
thoughts? Yeah, I got that," he laughed, taking a drink. "I've been trying
to dodge what I thought would be uncomfortable and I shouldn't have. That's
what I wanted to apologize for."

"Thanks man, and I promise I'll stop playing fill in the blanks and just
listen."

"Do you do that with Jack?"

"Yeah, and he does it with me. Sometimes we can tell simple things with
just a look. I forget it doesn't work that way with other people since I
also do it with my sister and occasionally Willy."

"I get it... there's, well, there's something else I need to come clean
about since that night wasn't the only reason I've been a little weird..."

"Oh God, what?" I asked, smiling.

"I'm, uh... well, I know you think I'm straight but..."

"Well, yeah, you told me you were..."

"I'm not. I'm... well, I'm calling it bi right now. I was saying bi
curious, but I stopped being curious last year."

"Wow. Well, welcome to the family," I said, raising my glass to meet his.

"Thank you."

"Does Max know?"

"Yeah, so do a few other people and Jack."

"Wait a second... you told JACK before you told me?"

He looked at me strangely, "Yeah, I just felt more comfortable with him?"

"With big scary Jack?"

"He's not intimidating like that to me."

"Is it some kind of jock thing?" I asked.

He sat for a second, thinking about the question with a slight smile,
"Yeah, kinda."

"I played varsity baseball four years in HS. I'm a jock! But you still felt
more comfortable with my boyfriend?"

"Well, yeah, we both played football."

And then I got really mad. That baseball is lesser than football thing
STILL got to me. While the football team had a tremendous stadium, we
played in what was (comparatively) a shithole.

"So not cool..." was all I said in response.

After lunch I went on to work which was pretty eventful. We were preparing
for a combo show, two artists who knew one another well but whose work was
wildly opposite, paintings vs photos, soothing vs visceral. It was going to
be a great show if we could keep the artists from killing us with their
constant demands and suggestions.

Cat called while I was at work. Then, when I didn't answer, texted me
911. So, I had to step outside and take the call, only to find out she was
just looking for some music I'd ripped off some of mother's CDs for an 80s
party.

"And you thought that was an emergency?"

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess not..."

"Exactly. Look, all that music is on your computer. I put it in your music
folder under 80s. I gotta go..."

And then I hung up and looked at the time, just after 430, usually time for
coffee. So, I decided to walk down to Jo's and couldn't shake the feeling
of someone's eyes on me. Not like a casual glance, like someone was staring
at me as I walked down Congress. I was still pretty wound up by Cat's call
while standing in line until someone tapped my shoulder.

I turned to see a guy, taller than me but not as tall as Jack, and asked,
"Can I help you?"

He spoke with an accent, if I had to guess I would say he was Mexican,
"You're Rob Hallstrom, aren't you?"

I swallowed hard, genuinely nervous for the first time in a while. It
wasn't just the way he looked, which was to put it bluntly fucking
gorgeous, it was the way he stood. He stood like Jack when he was ready to
act. I know people think it's weird that I pick up on stuff like that, but
when you're a small kid you learn to read body language really damn
well. And his screamed pure, naked aggression matched by the ability to
back it up.

"Yes, have we met?" I managed to get out with only a little squeak.

He smirked, clearly picking up on the fact that I was nervous, "No, but I
feel like I know you. I'm a friend of Jacks."

Ordinarily, I'd have relaxed after that disclosure, but I knew Jacks
friends including the ones from his fighting days. This guy wasn't one of
them. None of them looked at me this way. None of them carried themselves
like Jack. Normally I'd have felt safe with someone who introduced
themselves as a friend of Jacks, but I didn't get that feeling at all from
him. In fact, it felt like he'd punch a hole through my chest just as soon
as look at me.

That purged the nervous I'd had and replaced it with pure terror. I didn't
know this person and I didn't understand how he knew me.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you?" My voices went up a bit on you, to let
him know he'd still not given me his name, and I held out my hand which
surprisingly wasn't shaking like a leaf.

He gave me that smile again and it was like looking at the face of a serial
killer.

"I'm Carlos Ramos."

I trudged through my memories as quickly as I could and never recalled his
name coming up. I finally gave up and returned his smile.

"Carlos... "

"He's never mentioned me, has he?"

I started to answer, but he raised his hand as if to dismiss me.

"Its OK, given our past I probably wouldn't have mentioned me to you,
either. Just tell Jack I said hello and that I would love to catch up with
him".

His emphasis on LOVE made me angry.

By the time I got home, Jack was already there and making dinner. I told
him that I'd had lunch with Ben, but I didn't give him any real shit about
not telling me Ben was bi. We could keep things from one another, as long
as it didn't effect us and this didn't. It was Ben's place to tell me and I
wasn't going to jump on him for not breaking Ben's trust, no matter how I
may have felt in the moment.

"So, how was work?"

"Good,"I said as I walked into the bedroom to change. Loudly, I continued,
"I did run into a friend of yours."

"At the gallery? Who the hell would be there?"

"No, when I was getting coffee. I could swear he followed me down to
Jos. While I was in line, he chatted me up, told me to tell you hello."

At this point, I'd walked back into the living room and was sitting at the
bar that looked into the kitchen. Jack turned to look at me.

"Well, who was it? Manny or Xian?"

"No, someone I hadn't met before. He told me his name was Carlos."

And the platter that carried dinner, which Jack had been holding in his
hand, fell to the floor. He made no move to clean it up, he just stood
there motionless looking at me. Neither of us spoke for what seemed like
minutes, I was too nervous to even move. I'd never seen Jack like this. He
wasn't angry or sad, he was worried and Jack just didn't ever worry unless
it was about me.

Finally, he broke the silence, "Did he threaten you?"

"No, not even indirectly, but he didn't need to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean just his presence was threatening. I've never felt nervous around
anyone you've introduced me to, but this guy... even his body language, his
very posture, was aggressive. I could tell he'd have had no problem killing
me right there in the damn coffee shop."

"What specifically did he say?" he asked with just a hint of edge in his
voice. I knew at that point this was more serious than I thought. Jack
never let anything slip. It was like being a child the first time you saw
your parents genuinely frightened.

"Well, it was really brief. He tapped me on the shoulder, asked who I was,
told me he was a friend of yours. I finally prompted him to give me his
name, which he did, and then he asked if you'd ever mentioned him. Before I
could even answer, he told me he wouldn't have mentioned him to me either
and told me to tell you hello and that he'd LOVE, with extra emphasis on
the word LOVE, to catch up with you."

He remained completely still in the middle of the kitchen, "And that's all
he said. He didn't threaten to do anything to you? He didn't hurt you?"

"No. Jack he scared the shit out of me, but other than the tap he didn't
touch me. I kinda guessed that if he'd wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't have
had any trouble doing it, right?"

He stiffened. Through clenched teeth, as his eyes got suddenly glassy, he
responded, "No, he wouldn't."

"Well, then maybe he doesn't mean to hurt you? Maybe he really does just
want to catch up?"

"Carlos isn't that sort of guy..."

"He's in love with you, isn't he?" I asked, my tone more of realization
than accusation.

Jack looked at me, his eyes still hard, "He was. I don't know if he still
is... we haven't spoken in almost two years."

"Oh, God, you think he'd get rid of me to get to you?"

He nodded.

"What do I do?" I croaked out as tears started to run down my cheeks.

He quickly made his way to me and hugged me tightly, "YOU aren't going to
do a damn thing. I will take care of this."

"Jack! We're in this, together. I can help..."

"NO!" he shouted, then closed his eyes and bowed his head, seeking to calm
himself. "No, this is my responsibility and I will deal with it. I can't be
distracted worrying about you and him, I have to know you're safe so that I
can focus on him."

"But..."

He put his hands on my shoulders, then looked deeply into me, "Don't. This
is the way it has to be." He looked back at the kitchen, then sighed. "Why
don't you call for pizza while I clean the mess up. Then I'll tell you
anything you want to know about Carlos."

JACK

As we sat there, I realized far too late that I wasn't prepared for this in
the least, that there was no way for me to hide anything from Rob. Carlos
hadn't been in my life long, but he did play a big role in it. He was the
devil on my shoulder who made me do horrible things. Things I liked. Things
I never wanted Rob to know about it.

I didn't want him to have nightmares about the things I'd done. This wasn't
a simple case of some dirty sex. I had brutalized people in ways that would
have shocked any decent person. I had done the kind of things that
psychiatrists spent entire careers analyzing and dissecting.

And I cried as we talked, as I answered his questions, omitting details
unless he specifically asked about them. I wasn't crying because I felt
bad, I was crying because he would now see what I am. I could claim it was
who I was, and to a large extent it was right. But I knew it wasn't the
complete truth. Absent Rob, I was still that person. The very thing I had
been so desperate to avoid years ago, that had prompted drastic changes to
my life, was now being revealed.

And I didn't know if he would stay with me. I gave it one chance in
10. This would make crystal clear that what I'd previously claimed, that he
was too good for me, was absolutely true. I'd done things, and enjoyed
them, that would have terrified him even if he saw them in a movie.

I'd kept myself in check while I'd been cage fighting. I wanted people to
know I was serious, but I didn't want them to realize that I enjoyed
inflicting pain. That happened to a guy years before I started and no one
would fight him. But, after Toby died, all that changed and my long
weekends became trips to what were effectively death camps. Two cartels
needed the ability to dispose of people and what better way to do that then
to put them into a snuff matches. It helped they had someone like me,
ability matched with pure anger and a love of violence. I could keep
someone going in the ring for a good 25, sometimes 30 minutes before they
died. Oh, sure, some of them would pass out from the pain so you just break
something else and that woke them up, usually screaming.

My favorite was to crack someone's skull. I'd work them over pretty well,
just to give them a taste, then place my hands on either side of their
heads and slowly begin to apply pressure. I didn't have the strength to
actually crush someone's head, but I could create enough force to fracture
the skull and increase the pressure on them. It felt good to feel them
kicking at me, their hands uselessly grasping at my hands, wrists, and
forearms... and I was angry enough to keep that going. At one point, when I
was actually at school, Dick Dornier walked past me and I thought about
busting him up. He scurried away before I could really act, but that was
the first realization that I was heading down a dark path. It made me pull
back a little... but it didn't make me stop.

That wouldn't happen until the first weekend in May. I... I... well, it's
hard to talk about because it scared even some of the cartel guys. By that
Monday morning, I knew I was done. It had washed out of me and I was dead
inside, one last orgy of violence and sex that broke whatever was inside me
of enjoying inflicting pain, at least temporarily. The rage I felt had been
channeled out and it was gone.

I cleaned up after we finished dinner and looked up as I was almost done to
see him watching me with a smile and I broke down. He pulled me to the sofa
and held me as I cried, telling me over and over again that he loved me and
that he knew I loved him. He trusted me, and he wasn't going to let go. It
took over an hour for me to regain some composure and I knew without a
shadow of a doubt that he meant what he'd said. He'd been told, by me, the
darkest secrets I'd kept from him... he knew me now, completely, and he
wasn't running away.

I looked into his face, the whites of his eyes so blood shot they made the
blue irises stand out in a way that made me gasp. Those eyes looked at me
with love still.

And I knew I needed to make sure he was safe.

ROB

The next day I woke up to find him on the phone in the living room speaking
quietly. It didn't take me long to figure out he was talking to Lane (who
always woke up earlier than my brother) about me going to LA for a few
days. I just stood in the doorway until he was done, waiting for him to
notice me. As he ended the call, he sat there, head bowed, and mumbled out
some prayer before he finally noticed me.

"How long..."

"Long enough. You're sending me to California?"

"Just until I get this handled. I... I can't do what I need to do with you
here."

"But I may be able to help." I told him, my voice soft since I even I knew
it was a futile suggestion.

He stood up and walked over to me, cupping the back of my head and looking
into my eyes, "I know you would if you could, but we both know that's not
possible. They knew where you worked, you'll be the first piece on the
board."

"Why don't we bring in security? My dad and Neil have to know someone!"

He smiled, "And escalate this? Even worse, give you a false sense of
security? Maybe put your father and Cat in danger as well?" he stepped
back, shaking his head. "This is how it has to be, it's my problem and I
have to handle it."

I sighed, "When are you planning this?"

"I was hoping to get you on a plane this afternoon," he said.

I thought quickly and realized it was doable. I had a test next week, on
Wednesday, but today and Friday I could miss.

"You really think it'll be safe for me to come back on Sunday?"

"If I can't get this resolved in a few days, then it may be too big to be
resolved."

It took a second for me to really understand what he was saying, and I
hugged him as tightly as I ever have.

"Noooooooo..."

"Rob, everyone has to account for themselves at some point..."

"But we could go to the police," I mentioned through sobs, "Or the FBI?"

"And tell them what? That I did horrible things for a cartel outside their
jurisdiction? That I know almost nothing about their operations in the US?
That this all happened almost two and a half years ago and that there's no
specific threat now? There's nothing they would be able to do."

I continued to hold on...what he said made sense, but I realized that this
might be the end of him. Of us. Once again, I was going to lose the man I
loved and I just couldn't take it.

He finally pulled me off gently, "Rob, I know what you're thinking and
you're right. I love you more than anyone in the world and there is nothing
I won't do to keep you safe. I have to do this, there's no hiding from
it. This isn't a bill you can dodge or a traffic ticket you can fight. This
is a debt I have to clear on my own and I have to make sure you aren't a
part of that."

Four hours later, I was on American heading for LAX. I'd taken half a Xanax
after our conversation and the other half before I got on the plane. I just
needed to be calm, maybe sleep a little. I didn't want to think.

I passed out as we took off and don't remember anything until the FA shook
me awake after the plane was unloaded. I groggily gathered my things and
walked off the plane, through the jetway, into the terminal only to find
Josh and Lane there waiting for me.

"How'd y'all get through security?" I asked, not really 100% conscious.

Josh smiled, "We told one of the ticket agents that we were picking up my
little brother and he would need some help. So they gave us a gate pass."

"Well, you're not far off the mark," I said as I reached out to hug them,
crying.

"Jack wasn't real specific, just said he needed you to stay with us through
the weekend."

I looked at Lane, "Yeah, I'll fill you in when we get in the car."

I was starting to come out of my drug induced fog by the time we got on the
105 and I started to tell them what was going on. Josh, being Josh, was
ready to head back to the airport to help Jack. It was pretty frustrating
for me.

"Don't you think I offered to stay and help? I told you, this is something
he's quite sure he has to do on his own and needs to make sure things are
limited to just him."

"Yeah, but... don't take this the wrong way, but I might be more physical
help to him than you."

I sighed, sitting back in the seat, "Josh, I love you and I know you can
lay an unbelievable amount of hurt on someone, but you're not Jack. I've
seen him fight and I can tell you if he's worried, then you would not only
be unable to help him, you'd just slow him down."

"But, seriously, we can't just sit and do nothing!"

Lane piped up at this point, "Babe, you didn't hear him this morning. He's
scared and the one thing we can do to help him right now is keep Rob out of
it. And ourselves. Whatever he's dealing with is something big and Rob has
it right, he needs us out of the way so he can do what he needs to do
without worrying about us getting hurt."

"Or killed," I said, flatly. "Look, I'm about as worked up over this as
I've ever been about anything and there's nothing I can do but stay out of
the way. None of us are equipped to deal with people like Carlos. Jack is
and we have to give him the space he needs..." and at that point I started
to cry.

After I calmed down a bit, Lane said, "He's going to be OK."

"I know you think that, Lane, but I have never seen him worried about
anything. Until this. What's killing me is that it feels like those first
moments after the wreck all over again, when I realized Toby was dying."

"NO," Josh shouted, "NO. Jack's got a chance and if anyone can beat this,
Jack can."

"That's what I hope," I said, my voice not at all convincing. The rest of
the drive was pretty quiet and I stayed in my head even into that
afternoon, nurturing a single thought.

As open as we had been with one another, Jack had kept something from
me. That was my initial thought... then I realized he'd tried a number of
times to tell me what he did during his breakdown, but the message hadn't
gotten through. I couldn't get mad at him, despite the fact that his
previous explanations had not been so detailed and graphic. Even the day
before, when he spoke, I could tell he was holding things back from me and
I knew why.

He didn't want me to see him as a monster. That was what stuck in my head,
that he'd been trying to protect me from even knowing that side of him. He
didn't think I could handle it and, that Thursday, I honestly wasn't sure I
could. How do you separate the man you love, whose very existence fills you
with happiness, from the man who enjoys doing harm to others? Can you ever
really be sure that man won't pay you a visit?

JACK

On my way back to the apartment, I picked up a burner at a gas station and
called the number I knew would get me to Carlos. I called and gave them the
number for the burner, then waited. I made it back to the apartment before
the burner rang.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Yes? Is that any way to greet your long lost friend and lover?"
Carlos. His voice thick,oozing desire, just as it always had. The man was
pure evil, the complete absence of anything good. I could lie and tell you
it made my stomach turn, but what it really did was make the hair on the
back of neck stand up as my body dumped adrenalin into my bloodstream. He
was my link to a past I'd never really come to grips with, something he'd
counted on. He owned me and even if what he represented excited me, I knew
I had to shake him for good and all.

"Are you my friend, Carlos?" I asked, genuinely.

He laughed, "Hermano, I am your ONLY friend at the moment. Well, maybe not
your only friend but I am the only one who matters."

"Then why do this? Why go through Rob?"

"Two reasons... one, I needed your undivided attention. Two, and I'm not
making this up, I wanted to meet him. He's actually more attractive than I
thought he'd be. To be honest, I never thought you'd end up with someone
like him, so weak and unstable. He shook when he talked to me..."

"He knew what you are."

"Well, he is perceptive. Still, I always thought you'd be with someone, I
don't know, stronger. More a match."

I spat back at him through clenched teeth, "Someone like you?"

"Maybe. I mean, he is beautiful, but he's so soft. I supposed you'd be more
comfortable with someone who at least had the same drives, impulses,
comprende?"

"Sure, but you're wrong."

He sighed, "People like him will never truly understand people like us..."

"He changed me. I changed for him."

"But not, I think, completely."

I cursed under my breath, "No."

He paused, all I could hear was his soft breathing on the other end of the
call to know he was actually still there. Then, "He loves you. I suspect
he'll go on loving you when you tell him everything."

I sniffed, "I can only hope."

"Honestly, I didn't disrupt your life purely for this. I am, actually, not
your problem."

"Then why..."

"We should meet. I'm sure this line has been compromised by now. Walk out
your back door and get in the car."

I closed the phone and smashed it. Then walked outside to find a car
waiting in the parking lot. I got in the back seat and told them to take me
to Carlos.

It wasn't a long drive, just to a hotel in Northwest Austin. When we got
there, the guy in the front passenger seat got out and opened my door. We
walked inside to an elevator and he pressed 8, still wearing his
sunglasses. We stood in silence as the elevator took us up.

We walked down the corridor to the end, Suite 8A. He used a card to let
himself into the room, then held the door for me.

Carlos rose from a sofa and walked toward me, hugging me tightly as he
reached me. He looked at the man who'd accompanied me and told him to give
us 15 minutes.

"I have to be at practice by 430," I told him.

"Practice? You haven't seen me in two years and you want to leave to go to
practice?" He said, smiling.

"Yes, Carlos. It's important."

"More important than your life and the life of your beloved?"

I groaned, "Quit being cryptic and get to the damn point," I said as I
walked closer to him.

He leaned into me, inhaling deeply, "There's that smell. The smell of a man
who dominates, who takes. What happened to you?"

"I had to change. What you never understood was that I wasn't like you. I
was on a fast track to burning myself out and eventually did, just not to
the point of death."

"That weekend. The older guys tell the stories to the new recruits. It's
almost like a religion for some of them. 'Do as you're told, be honest, be
loyal or Jefe will call down El Diablo del Norte and he will eat your
soul!'."

"I'm sure you don't spend much time telling people that won't happen."

"Of course not! I tell them that I am the only thing holding It at bay!
What you did, that last weekend, set me up to takeover the cartel."

"So, if it's not you or Gabriel, who is mad at me?"

"The Obregon family from Monterrey. They now control the northeast and one
of the things they want is the man responsible for the death of one of
their primos."

"And?"

He chuckled, "You killed him in April, 2012. Remember the big guy whose arm
you nearly ripped off?"

My eyes went wide as I remembered him. He was a stocky guy and surprisingly
strong, but he had a weak right shoulder. It took almost 10 minutes for me
to finally render his arm unusable and by the time I was done, the only
thing holding it to his body was the skin.

"At the time, he was just a soldier, now the Obregons are in control of
their cartel and they want the man who killed him."

I sat down heavily in a chair, suddenly aware of the trouble I was in.

"That wasn't me, it was the cartel. It was just business..."

"Jack, understand, it's personal for them. Hell, I already tried to buy you
out of this. But that video made it's way to them and when one of them was
in Austin for a UT game, it didn't take them long to figure out who you
were."

"OK, so I have to turn myself over to them?"

"It's not just you any more, amigo."

"They know about Rob?" I asked, choking back tears.

"Si. They don't know where he is, but it's only a matter of time. Sangre
llora por sangre."

"Fuck. So what's the out?"

Carlos smiled, "What makes you think there is one?"

"You wouldn't be here if there wasn't."

"One fight. Their guy and you. To the death. It cost me $10 million to make
it happen, but I did."

That was stunning. Carlos never parted with money.

"Why?"

"Because whatever you may think of me, I remember our time together
fondly. And these animals have made this into a blood feud that will spill
over and hurt us both. I can't have that. So, I make the investment which
you now have to honor."

"No cameras?"

"None. Just family, us and them."

"When?"

"Saturday night. I have it lined up at a ranch east of Austin."

"Thank you."

Carlos walked over to me, putting his hand on my chin to lift my head until
our eyes met.

"I am sorry. I wish there had been another way."

I gave him a weak smile, "I know, and I appreciate it, especially in light
of how I left things. I was just done."

"After I saw you at the end of 2012, I knew things had changed for you. I
also knew you weren't what I thought you were, you had been chasing a
demon. It grabbed you for a while, but it was gone," he sighed heavily,
then continued. "To be honest, it would have been good to have the Jack I
knew with me the last two years. But I know that man is gone. Now, you
fight for something more important."

I stood and hugged him, then turned to walk back to the door.

"Can your guys take me back?"

"Sure. Javier will give you a phone. I'll be in touch with the final
arrangements. Whatever you do, don't use your phone. Just use that one
until this is over."

I had them drive me to the stadium so I could get ready for practice. The
locker room was buzzing and everyone was really excited about the game on
Saturday, everyone except me. I was, as Rob liked to say, in my head and it
got through to them pretty quickly.

Willy, as we were leaving the locker room, asked what was up and I just
told him I really couldn't talk about it right then, but that I would fill
him in when it was all over.

He jumped in front of me, throwing his hands up on my chest to stop me, as
the other guys went by.

"Is something wrong? Something with Rob?"

I teared up a little, "Willy, the simple answer is yes, but I promise he's
safe. I sent him to California for the weekend... I can't get into it, but
I need you to trust me." Left unsaid, 'because if things go south, I'll be
dead and Rob will need you more than ever'.

Willy squared up, "OK, I'll do it. Just promise me you'll keep Rob clear of
it."

"That's what I'm doing. And please, whatever you do, don't tell anyone Rob
is in California. Anyone. This should all be over by Sunday and I promise
I'll tell you everything."

Willy just nodded and I thanked God that he was as dependable, and
discreet, as ever.

Practice couldn't end fast enough and I booked back to the house and sent a
text to Lane to open Skype so I could talk to him. I was pretty sure as
good as the Obregons might be that there was little to no chance they'd
been able to compromise it. The NSA may be watching everything but at least
there was some privacy from the really bad guys.

I waited patiently until Lane texted back ready, then got on the computer
and teared up when I saw Rob's face, eyes still red from crying.

"Hey, babe," was all I could manage.

He smiled, "Did you find out anything?"

I took a deep breath, "Yeah, it's not Carlos. He's actually helping
me. It's a long story but it's related to the spring of 2012. It'll all be
over Saturday night."

He smiled, "So I can book a flight back on Sunday?"

"Yeah, you'll be safe coming back then."

His smile faded completely, "But you may not be there?"

I swallowed hard, "Rob, I don't want to lie to you. I don't know. I have to
do something Saturday night to keep us both safe. I don't want to get into
it, but even if the worst happens, you'll be safe."

His eyes, already glassy, shed more tears that ran down his cheeks, "OK, I
understand. Jack, I love you and I want you to know that won't end, OK? I
need you to know that."

My own tears started to fall, "Thank you and I love you, too. Are Lane and
Josh there?"

He sniffled, "Yeah, let me get them."

I could hear him calling them in the background.

As they got into the frame I told them, "Thank you both for taking care of
him this weekend. I love you both in a way that's hard to express."

Lane smiled, "He filled us in, we understand," and Josh nodded.

I wiped at my eyes, "Listen, I'll text from the number I used earlier
through the rest of the weekend. If I'm clear, I'll text you Saturday night
to let you know. Even if I don't, it will still be safe for Rob to come
back. I made sure of that."

"You sure about all this? I can be there in a few hours," Josh offered.

"Yeah and what I need to you to do, you're doing."

And I shut off the computer, got up and walked into a bedroom where I
collapsed on the bed crying.

Thanks for reading! Any comments can be sent to doncornelius69 at yahoo dot
com.

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