17Chapter 2: Apocalypse
Chapter 2: Apocalypse
It's been over a week. I haven't spoken to either my father or brother. I make sure to leave extra early in the mornings, and to stay a bit longer at work in the evenings, in hopes of avoiding them all together. It is difficult at school, since I'm in senior classes. Jake's friends seem to realize that we have fought and are staring at me. I ignore them, but it's difficult when they report my location to him. I take different routes each day to my classes, and I don't each lunch in the cafeteria anymore. Instead I eat with Ms. Swan. She doesn't question why, but I know she wants me to talk about what has been bugging me. I can't say anything yet, because I am still upset and angry at my family. Just sitting here and writing this journal entry makes me see red. I could rant and rave all day about the injustice of my situation, but has that helped me at all these past 6 years? So I keep ignoring my relatives. When I do get home and father and Jake are awake waiting for me, I just walk past them and lock myself in my room. They keep trying to talk to me but I just block them out. You would think after 6 years of silence I would be eager to hear their voices directed at me. Ironic how what I once dreamed about every night I am now doing every thing in my power to push away.
Walking to the bus stop, Chris spared no backward glance at his house. He knew if he looked back, he would see his father looking at him from the front door. Jake was probably behind him, both wearing faces showing sadness and regret. Chris sped up a bit; the sooner he was on the bus the quicker he could put this sense of uneasiness behind him. Ever since that night, Chris became obsessive on checking his college applications online, along with the status of his scholarship requests. Never before had his house felt so oppressive or bleak. He needed to escape, as soon as possible.
The bus arrived and Chris climbed on. He was reminded of the day when Jake got his car from their father on his 16th birthday. It was a truck as well, only a newer model with much less wear and tear on it. Nevertheless, it served as a daily reminder of their father's favoritism of Jake over Chris, and how little Chris had received from his family all these years. Sure he was fed, but Chris doubted that his father had bought food with Chris specifically in mind. Items such as clothes, school supplies, and things of that nature had come out of Chris's paycheck from the café. He never bought fancy things; he frequented cheap stores and looked for clothing on sale at the local Salvation Army. So while Jake was wearing clothing from the higher priced stores at the mall, Chris was decked in bland clothes that served to further prove the drastic separation between him and his family.
The bus sped along the roads, stopping every now and then, picking up more students at their respective stops. Chris was never bothered on the bus, nor did anyone wave or say hi to him. He never made the effort for friends. He was either at work or at the library studying. He never went to the movie theatres, never chilled at the mall for no reason, never did the normal acts a teenage boy should do. Instead he worked, put in as many hours as possible without his grades suffering, and saved every penny he could. He had more than enough money for a plane ticket and other miscellaneous expenses once he graduated and left this place behind. The only thing he would regret would be leaving behind Ms. Swan. She would probably be one of the few people who would truly miss Chris, and he felt a stab of guilt for planning on leaving for a university so far away. But she would tell him that he needed to do what he felt was necessary, no matter how hard it seemed. So why did he feel more guilt than he thought he should?
Reflecting back on all that had happened recently, Chris tried to piece together what his father and brother were playing at. They certainly acted like they wanted to make amends, but Chris couldn't help but feel leery of them. 6 years of near ostracism was difficult to forget, let alone forgive. True, neither his father nor his brother ever raised a fist at him, nor was there any other form of physical abuse. But that was just the problem. Nothing was done. There had been no one there for him when he performed in a band concert. No one was there for him when he had the flu; he had to go out himself and buy the necessary medicine. No body to hug him when he was depressed and sad. Chris almost felt that his treatment towards his brother and father was justified.
The bus lurched one last time in front of the high school. Quickly exiting, Chris made his way inside towards Ms. Swan's office. Today would be the day where he told her what had transpired all those days ago. Passing by a group of seniors, Chris could pick out those that Jake was friends with, which was basically the entire group. Really, his brother was friends with nearly everyone in his class, which made it so hard for Chris to accept his words of apology. Why had it taken Jake so long to change his behavior if he acted like such a good person with everyone but him? Sighing, the 17 year old walked into the guidance counselor's office and straight into Ms. Swan's room. "I need to talk." Was all Chris said as he closed the door and dumped his backpack on the floor.
Ms. Swan nodded and re-filled her cup of coffee. She knew Chris would step forward soon, and now she was all ears to help. She could hazard a guess as to what this conversation would be about. Many times students would forget that teachers can overhear their conversations in classes and she had learned quite a bit from the faculty lounge's grape vine. Apparently Jake had started talking to Chris, but was being rebuffed by his younger sibling. The theories as to why exactly ranged all over the place; from petty revenge from Chris on Jake, to Chris being clinically deaf to only his brother and dad. Ms. Swan suspected that Chris was angry at Jake and his parent for their treatment, and was reacting out of fear and anger. Whatever the reason, she needed to help her student heal and find reconciliation with himself, and maybe, hopefully, with his family as well.
"Okay Chris, I'm all ears."
Rick watched as his youngest child practically ran to the bus stop, putting himself out of sight of him and his other offspring. He sensed Jake take a step inside, leaving the door open for Rick with one hand. Turning, Rick glanced at his son and lover's face. The emotions he himself was experiencing were mirrored in Jake, and that tore him up all the more. Their sinful actions seemed unforgivable, but Rick hadn't been called stubborn by his co-workers and late wife for a reason. Chris may be running now, but eventually he would stop and Rick would be there to catch him and to talk. Following his lover inside, they walked upstairs to change out of their pajamas and into their school and work clothes.
With Jake in front of him, Rick couldn't help but admire his oldest son's physique. Jake's body had all the necessary muscles for his athletics, each muscle being firm and unforgiving, much like his own. Whereas Rick had a slight aged look to his body, Jake was still in the prime of his youth. Feeling a stirring down in his loins, Rick moved in behind Jake and wrapped his arms around him. Jake paused in getting dressed and looked over his shoulder at his dad and lover. Meeting him, Rick began kissing him and nuzzling his neck. The rough beard he sported on his masculine face tickled Jake and began spreading waves of arousal throughout his body. "Dad, what are you doing?"
Rick stopped his ministrations and pressed his face against his lover's. "I want to make love to you Babe. I want to feel your love so I can be reassured that we can get Chris back with us." Rick gripped Jake closer to him. "I admit, I'm scared. I don't want my champ to leave us. He's so strong for having to deal with our bullshit and if he does leave, he'll hate us for the rest of his life." He turned Jake around so the two were now facing each other. "I want to love him like I love you. Is that wrong of me Jake?" Rick stared into Jake's eyes. "Don't answer that as my lover, but as Chris's brother. We need to start acting like the father and sibling he hasn't had in 6 years."
Jake chuckled. "Dad, it's kinda hard to answer that when we're like this." He motioned between them. They had stripped down from their pajamas but had yet to start actually getting dressed. Both men were slightly aroused, their cocks pressing into each other, pre-cum rubbing together and mixing on each other's penile head. Jake reached down and began stroking the two of them together in a gentle motion. Rick shuddered and moved closer, the heat from their bodies making the two of them start to sweat. The musk of their testosterone began permeating the air thickly. "But seriously dad, I have to agree. We do need to act like a family again. You and I love each other, both as parent and child and as lovers." He began stroking a bit more firmly now, both of their shafts hardening in anticipation. "I think it would be so hot if Chris joined us like this, he certainly is attractive. I noticed that around the same time we got together."
Jake's movement slowed down, and Rick almost groaned with want. Jake smiled at his dad and leaned in to kiss him. "But as much as I want Chris to be with us like this, I want him back as my brother even more. Even if we never got together like this, I at least want to be on speaking terms with him." Rick smiled. His children were already so mature; one from being his lover, the other from being neglected. It was strange and cruel how things turned out like they did.
Rick growled in his throat. "Don't worry Babe, we'll get him back. No I want to screw you into the mattress there. Get on the bed boy." He roughly pushed his son back onto the bed, Jake tumbling in the sheets. Before he had time to recover, Rick had already leapt onto the bed and was leaning over his lover possessively. He nipped at Jake's lips demandingly, silently pleading for permission to enter. Jake opened his mouth and Rick shot his tongue in; the two began a silent duel of domination. Jake quickly surrendered by grabbing his dad with his arms and legs, pulling him closer to him. Their dicks made contact with each other and neither could repress the sexual frustration each was feeling. "Come on daddy," whispered Jake. "Fuck me until I can't walk straight."
Rick's cock jumped at hearing that, it practically begging and leaking to be shoved into something hot and tight. But no – not yet. He enjoyed foreplay, and it was always much more pleasurable and fulfilling when both he and Jake plunged over the edge of their sexual adventure. "Don't worry boy, I'm gonna do that. You'll see stars by the time this is done." He began sucking harshly at Jake's neck, careful not to leave any hickies to be seen. But that didn't mean he couldn't put them elsewhere. Moving down to his son's braid chest, Rick began sucking all over; from the abdomen to the nipples. Jake writhed under his dad and lover, moaning senselessly. Rick held him down with an expert had. With the other he reached blindly for the tube of lube in the bedside table drawer. Finding it, he pushed himself back and situated himself in front of Jake, placing his son's legs around his hips.
Jake sensed the change in position and quickly scooted himself closer to his lover, pressing the cheeks of his ass against his dad's mighty and impressive erection. Rick almost bit his tongue at seeing his sexy boy at such a position; Jake was flushed with perspiration, his bulky arms thrown back in ecstasy, his mountainous chest panting heavily. Rick uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers. Pressing two in gently, he began the short task of loosening up his son. They did this enough that each never needed much time to get prepared. Jake took in the two easily and begged for another. "Please dad, don't tease me anymore. I need it!" Rick complied and added a third. It took a bit more effort, but it was worth seeing Jake's eyes widen as he knew what was to come next.
Chuckling lowly, Rick removed his fingers and added more of the lubricant to them. He took his cock in his hand and quickly jacked himself. Jake stared at him, breathing heavily with anticipation. "Do it quick daddy, don't make me wait any longer. Please daddy, please!" Jake wrapped his legs around his father's waist and pressed himself up against his parent. He raised his torso up in whorish need. Rick's will snapped; grabbing his lover's waist mercilessly, he plunged his highly generous length into his son and lover. Jake almost choked on his spit – so powerful was his father in sex that he felt as though he had the wind knocked out of him. He tightened his legs, heavily muscled from running in football and fighting in wrestling, around his dad, holding him close at the first penetration. Rick hovered over Jake, his arms resting on both sides of the chest below him. The two stared at each other, the only noise breaking the silence in the bedroom being their panting and moaning.
Jake stared up at his father, the man who was fucking him with the cock that created him. Most would say their relationship was perverse and sick, immoral and sinful. But when Jake looked into his father's eyes, whether they were having sex or just hanging around with each other, he saw such strong unconditional love that it made him want to cry in thanks for being blessed with such an amazing dad and lover. Rick shifted his hips, his cock exploring deep within the bowels of his son. Jake gasped and saw lights dance across his vision when the head of his dad's dick brushed that sensitive patch of nerves within him. He loosened his hold on his dad and Rick took the initiative to start plunging in and out of the hot body beneath him. Soon both men were groaning in sexual pain, Jake clutching onto his dad's massive arms, Rick's hips never resting as they moved in and out of his lover in a quick, piston-like movement.
Each plunge into Jake was like a sampling of Heaven to Rick. His boy's body was hot and tight; no matter how many times he screwed his son, there was always a vice grip within him that made Rick want to howl out in passion. He blamed it on all those squats Jake did in his workouts, the boy's ass was damn fine. He kept aiming for that special spot he knew existed within Jake; they had been with each other enough that they knew the other person's body both inside and out. Rick felt his end approaching – he began bucking more harshly into Jake, taking his cock almost all the way out, only to shove it back in, then repeating the process again and again. Every time Jake felt his dad hit his prostate, he saw more and more lights. He couldn't rationalize anything anymore, he could only sense and feel with his body. He craned his neck up and began sharing a desperate kiss with Rick. Their mutual climax was upon them.
Rick experienced his first. Roaring into his lover's mouth, he plunged one last time into Jake and exploded. Shot after shot was expelled out him, the sheer number and volume of his man juice testifying to his still present sexual energy and potency. Jake felt himself being filled up and overflowing, his father's cum leaking out onto his body and onto the mattress below him. He saw stars and erupted in shared rapture when his father struck his sex gland on the final plunge, covering both of their chests with his seed. Rick collapsed on top of his son. Both men were panting, desperately trying to recover their breath. Jake still held onto his lover, their mouths no longer connecting but faces still next to each other. Rick shifted, pulling out of his son and laying beside him.
"Well Babe, that was amazing." murmured Rick. Jake smiled at him in post-coital bliss. Ricked leaned over and nuzzled his face against him. "Love you boy. Now get up – we need to shower and get dressed." Rick moved to sit up, holding his son's hand with him. The two of them walked to the bathroom and entered the shower. "I'll call the school and meet with Ms. Swan. She'll hopefully help us with Chris." He began lathering up his hair with the shampoo and conditioner.
Jake nodded, "I'll keep trying to talk to him as well in school. Plus I'll go to his work and see what happens there." Both men wanted nothing more than to have Chris back with them in their family. If he was interested in sleeping with them, well that would be an added bonus. Personally Jake saw no reason why Chris wouldn't want to sleep with him or their dad; he knew they were sexy and desirable. And Chris was beautiful in his own right – so similar was he to their mom with his slender body and striking face. He couldn't hold back the images that flashed through his mind of Chris and them; Chris gasping, whimpering, writhing between their two impressive bodies, him being dwarfed by their masculine love and adoration. Jake felt himself hardening and reached for the bar of soap. Suddenly he got an idea.
"Hey dad." Rick turned around to see Jake 'accidently' drop the soap. "Whoops…" said Jake as he bent over to retrieve the guilty body cleanser. Rick saw his son's ass, still leaking with his fluids and already tightening up again, ready for one more round.
Rick grinned deviously and moved forward, pressing his manhood against Jake. His son looked at him over his shoulder and grinned back at him. "That's my boy…"
Soon the sounds of sexual fervidness echoed out of the bathroom, two men joined together in love and lust.
"They said what?" questioned Ms. Swan. After hearing the conversation that Chris had with Jake and his father, she was flabbergasted at what was said. From what Chris told, it was as if Jake and Mr. Resen wished to reconcile with Chris. However they went about it entirely wrong. Not only did they make it seem that the last 6 years never happened, but they seemed to callously shrug off any pain that they had caused Chris. She didn't believe that people were inherently cruel, but she was having second thoughts when it came to her friend's relatives. He started out with his story relatively calmly, but as it progressed, he grew more and more upset. By the end, when he told her what he said about Mr. Resen not being his father anymore or Jake his brother, he was bawling in the chair, just sitting there, shaking in his tears.
Chris felt a little bit better after telling someone what had happened. The story was difficult to repeat, even though it was told to Ms. Swan. She gave him tissues when he needed them and hugged him to help him clam down. Just thinking about his family made him upset all the more. The one thing he left out of the story was the relationship his brother and father had with one another. Somehow, it seemed wrong to go tell others about it, even if it was Ms. Swan. Chris didn't know why; he knew he could be vengeful and expose his family on their relationship, thus ruining them. His father would be fired from his construction crew, and Jake would most likely lose any chance of attending a college. But for some strange reason, Chris didn't say a word about the incestuous bond within his family. Probably because Chris felt a sense of regret that he wasn't a part of it…
He wouldn't deny it; after fleeing up to his room that night and crying until God knew when, Chris felt envy and lust for his brother and father. They were both irresistible in their looks. It was like looking at some hot supermodel then having a mirror placed next to them for a double effect. Growing up as a gay teenager with those two in the same house was difficult, especially with his hormones bouncing all over the place. Of course it would make sense that Jake would go after their father, he practically worshipped the ground the man treaded on when they were kids. But that didn't make this sense of final betrayal any easier to bear. Seeing how the two of them gazed at each other when Chris struck out against his brother felt more heart wrenching then anything he experienced in the 6 years of neglect.
Ms. Swan looked at Chris. The boy – no, he wasn't a boy anymore, not with what he's been through – the young man looked lost in thought, his vision clouded by some deep memory. Clearing her throat, she spoke. "Chris, even though your family went around the wrong way of expressing it, it seems to me, from what you've said, that they want to make amends for what they put you through." Chris nodded. "Do you think they should be given that chance?" He looked at her, confliction dancing across his face. She empathized with him; she too wanted some sort of justice meted out to the two men who hurt her friend all these years. But another part of her wanted Chris to have the family he lost all those years ago again. "Do you want to hear what I think? Not as a guidance counselor, but as a friend?" Chris smiled and nodded.
She shifted in her seat. "I think that you should let your dad and brother say their piece. Obviously they want to rebuild bridges between them and you. I know it's their fault that things are they way they are now, but that doesn't mean you should just give up on them." Chris frowned, but Ms. Swan pressed on. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but this must be said. 6 years is a long time, but a lifetime is longer. Do you want to go through the rest of your life filled with anger and hate towards your remaining family? Or even regret and guilt that you didn't try one last time with them?"
"But that's just it!" yelled Chris. "I don't want to try and forgive them just so they can ignore me all over again! What's to stop them from doing that?!" Chris got up and began pacing. "They have more than adequately proven that I am not important enough in their lives to warrant any need for concern or affection. What if I broke a leg a month ago? Do you honestly think either my brother or my father would have driven me to the hospital? I don't think they would. And that's not all, they're really close with each other, they're-" Chris cut himself off. He almost spilled the beans on Jake's and his father's love.
"They're what Chris?" asked Ms. Swan. Chris's sudden outburst then silence had unnerved her a bit. It was painfully obvious that this sudden change in his family's behavior had unnerved him more than he let on. "They're, they're perfect by themselves, without me." finished Chris weakly. "They have this amazing father/son relationship, and I'm an unwanted third wheel…" He could feel the tears building up again. Damn it, he has cried enough over these two!
Looking at the clock, Ms. Swan moved to her desk and pulled out a note. "I'm going to write you a pass. I want you to go home and sleep on what we have talked about. Come back to school tomorrow okay?" Chris thanked her. He felt exhausted; from lack of any real sleep to the constant battering of his nerves and emotions at home. He needed rest. "And also Chris, I want to ask this; what will you do about your acceptance letters? Will you really leave all of this behind?" Chris's letters were due in any day now, and she wanted to know how he planned on handling the situation and any problems that may arise from it.
Chris looked at Ms. Swan, his eyes betraying all the raw emotion he was experiencing. "I don't know Ms. Swan. I just don't know." He moved towards the door. "But I do know that it is no concern of my father or brother. They won't dictate what choices I make."
The door closed without a sound, yet it seemed to bang down with a note of finality.
The dream is back. I'm lying in the grass, only instead of being in the warmth of the sunlight; I'm hidden in the cool shadow of the tree. I shiver, bringing my arms together for some warmth. I know Jake will walk up to me any minute now, silently looking at me with his pleading eyes. But no more. I won't pander to his wants in either reality or my dreams. I have to be strong, because no one else can be inside my dreams. The wind picked up and a sudden chill went down my spine. I curled up into the fetal position, brining my legs to my naked chest and wrapping my arms around them. Tucking my head in between my knees, I wait for my dream brother to arrive.
I didn't have to wait long. I heard him before I saw him. It sounds like he was dragging his feet in a lethargic manner. Plus there was another set of footsteps with his. Looking up out of my body, I saw both him and my father walking towards me. They're fully clothed, unlike me just wearing a pair of thin shorts. I see them reach for me together and I pull back, drawing into myself even more. They look sad, but not a word is spoken.
"Don't do that. Don't act like you care for me when I know you don't." I mumbled into my legs. My body's shivering persisted, despite my best attempts to conserve body warmth. My father moved forward, taking off his shirt in a silent offering of piece. I shook my head, my teeth almost chattering. "I don't need your help or sympathy."
My father moved back next to Jake, both of their eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Don't cry – you have no right to shed tears like I do." I tried to make my argument, but it sound weak and futile in my ears. I wanted to rage against my family, shout at them in justified fury, but all I could muster up was a sad toneless voice. I felt tired. Even in my dreams I couldn't escape my pain.
"You know what I hate the most about this whole situation? It's the fact that despite how much I try, I can't truly hate you." I whispered. I sat up, ignoring the wind at my back, the spread of goosebumps across my flesh. "Oh don't get me wrong, I hate what you did to me all these years. The endless days of silence, the assurance that my accomplishments would go unnoticed, the cold stares." My father and brother made no noise, they just stood there, as still as possible. While the wind was blowing and buffeting against my body, it seemed to ignore Jake and Rick entirely.
"I love you, I truly do. But if you're going to show your love to me and ignore what your actions have wrought, then I don't want that love." I stood up, staring at those who did me wrong. "Besides, you have each other now. What good would I do to you?"
Jake and our father clasped hands together and reached for Chris simultaneously. I stepped back, furthering the distance between myself and the couple in front of me. "No. Nonononononononononononononononono." I held my head in my hands, the wind blasting around me, my hair flying all over and all noises being drowned out. I shouted "Leave me alone! You don't understand what you did to me, what trauma you put me through! Don't act like you care when I can't be sure!"
Suddenly the wind died, and silence reigned. I looked up and saw my father and brother walk away, their backs to me. I stared and suddenly looked at my hands. Gone was the fair skin of my youth. Instead there were many wrinkles and liver spots, the hands of an old man. I looked up and could see from a distance that my father and brother had aged as well. Slowly, they dropped to ground, not moving. "No…" I pleaded. I tried to move, to run to my family, but was if the distance I attempted made no difference at all. I felt the tears start to fall one last time as I myself fell to my knees, my body too frail to carry on. "Please, don't leave me…"
I wake up, tears falling down my cheeks.
It had been a tough past couple of days for Jake.
Yesterday, after he finally drove to school when he and Rick finished up their latest love making session, Jake couldn't find Chris. None of his friends reported seeing him in their classes and Jake didn't spot him in the hallways. He knew his little brother got off the bus, because that was the first and last time he was seen. Now today Chris was back in class as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. He still tried to avoid Jake in the halls, but Jake wasn't to be outdone. He received constant calls from his friends throughout the school on Chris's location, and with his large size he easily made it across the building and through the crowds. He tried chasing down Chris to confront him, but his sibling took one look over his shoulder and then booked it to his classroom, slamming the door between him and Jake as a barrier.
Now the school day had ended and Jake could spot Chris jogging to the café. He quickly started up his truck and followed him downtown. As Chris entered the shop, he cast a glance over his shoulder and stared at Jake parking in front of the restaurant. He dashed inside and Jake sighed. He just wanted to talk to his little brother, like they used to when both of them were little, before their mom died. But then Jake started mistreating Chris and now they were in this situation. Chris was avoiding his family like the Plague and there seemed to be no easy solution to this situation.
Jake walked inside the café and saw Chris already tying his coffee apron around his wait. He couldn't help but feel a sexual stirring within him as he saw his brother's lithe body become accentuated by the tightness of that piece of cloth. Chris, while lacking the height and muscles that defined his older sibling and father, had his own presence. His hair was longer, about shoulder length and it had a thick sheen to it that Jake heard many girls profess jealousy over. His skin was fair, not tanned and toughened, and his face had a calm, relaxed look to it for the most part. But now there seemed to be a haunted look to his brother's face; bags were showing under his eyes, and the smile Chris wore behind the counter seemed strained.
He sat down at one of the few available café tables, contemplating on his plan of action against Chris. Obviously the blunt, direct approach didn't work, that was proven on that disastrous night. Nor was the friendly, indirect approach – that was proven earlier that same day in the afternoon. So Jake was stumped. He just wanted to shake his distant family member and tell him just how sorry he was! But Chris's last word to him that night echoed in his mind: Nor are you any brother of mine. Jake couldn't help but shudder when he remembered those words. It was like Chris's voice was dead, devoid of anymore emotion. Jake felt sick with himself for driving his baby brother to that.
As Chris served people their caffeinated drinks from the barista, Jake stood up and got in line. He knew Chris noticed this, by the sudden tensing of his shoulders. As the line grew shorter and Jake closer to his target, he quickly tried to come up with a plan. Nothing came to mind as he finally walked up to the counter, he and Chris staring at each other in surprise. Chris's face danced with emotions; from agitation, to anger, and then finally settling on indifference. Before Jake could get in a word, Chris asked "Good afternoon sir. What would you like today?"
So that's the game plan Chris was going to play. Jake would have nothing of it. "Chris, please listen. I'm sorry! Dad's sorry! We regret hurting you so much! Please, come home so we can talk about this." Chris remained impassive to his brother's pleas. "Chris man, please I'm begging you. I know I'll never know what you went through with mom, I know. But please. Please don't w-walk awaa-ay." Jake couldn't help it. The thought of losing his brother because of their actions scared him, and fear caused his voice to tremble. He felt the hot, stinging sensation of his tears prickle his eyes. He never felt like this; even when he was running straight into a painful tackle on the field or going up against a more skilled opponent on the mat. For a second, it seemed like Chris was going to cave and give in, but he just clenched his jaw and remained stoic.
"Would sir like to try one of our specials today? Perhaps a season special, or one of the favorites here?" Chris's voice was calm, professional and customer-friendly. But every word felt like a slap in the face and another knee to the groin to Jake. Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, he raised his voice at Chris. "God damn it Chris, LISTEN!" The café had gone quiet at hearing Jake's yell. "I'm SORRY! What more do you want from me? I don't know how to fix this gap between us if you don't talk! Please help me to understand!" Not a voice was heard in the little shop, each customer hanging on the flow of the conversation.
Chris frowned at Jake. "Sir. If you are not going to order anything and cause a scene, I am going to have to ask you to leave. If you don't I will call the police." Everyone felt the cold tension in the room. Chris stood there, as still and animated as a statue, and Jake across the counter from him in shuddering disbelief and anger. It was rather comical, seeing these two matched against each other; one barely 5'9" teen facing a 6'4" athletic man and not flinching. Rather like the story of David and Goliath, only David wasn't using a slingshot in this fight. No, he was using psychological warfare with his words and body language. Chris had won this round – anyone could see that.
"Fine." Jake snapped. "Be that way. I'm gone." Chris said nothing, did nothing. Jake turned and walked out of the café, into his truck. He drove off into town not looking back.
He didn't see Chris go into the backroom sobbing.
"Ms. Swan there's a Mr. Resen here to see you." The phone squawked out. Ms. Swan had been waiting for this day for a long time. Reaching over, she pressed the response button. "Please send him in."
Her office door opened a moment later, and in towered Mr. Resen. Ms. Swan hadn't seen him in 6 years, ever since Chris's mom's funeral, and it was uncanny how similar the father was to the older brother Jake. The physical similarity only served to further separate Chris from his family, but Ms. Swan knew this was one of the few things that Mr. Resen hadn't done intentionally. Adjusting her posture a bit, she motioned for the man to sit down. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit Mr. Resen? I am not Jake's counselor." She would set her pieces in motion, letting the other man know where he stood with her.
Rick knew this meeting was going to be difficult, that Ms. Swan was going to be difficult, but he wasn't going to be deterred. "Please just call me Rick. And I'm not here about Jake. I'm here to discuss Chris Ms. Swan." Glancing at her desk name tag, he asked "May I call you Jennifer?"
"No" was the curt reply. "I only allow that privilege to my friends and you are no friend of mine Mr. Resen." Ms. Swan sat firmly in her chair, her posture relaxed, but her eyes betrayed the urge to claw out his. She would protect those she loved and Chris was at the top of that list. Rick realized this and suddenly sagged in his chair, feeling like an old man once again.
"Thank you." he whispered. Tears began forming, and he clenched his hands together into fists. "Thank you for being there for Chris all these years. I can see how much you love him and are willing to protect him." It hurt knowing that this woman had to pick up the slack he shoved off as a parent to Chris.
Ms. Swan looked at Rick in passive speculation. "I must attract Resen tears or something in this office…" she mumbled.
"What?" questioned Rick.
"For the last 6 years, whether in my office here at the high school or at the middle school, Chris has always come to me when he needed a shoulder to cry on." Rick flinched, taking the subtle reminder on his poor parenting. "When he needed someone to listen to him, I was there. When he wanted some praise on his good deeds, I was there. When he had a performance, I was there. Need I go on about how I was more of a parent then you Mr. Resen?"
Rick's shoulders shook, and he shook his head. He remained quiet, sitting in the exact same chair his son did for all these years. It was truly ironic how fate played out her hand in life. "I love that boy. I know I screwed up, so I'm begging you Ms. Swan. Please help me get my son back."
Ms. Swan looked him over her desk in silent judgment. "Why should I? What's to stop you from hurting Chris again? What guarantee can I get from you?" Rick looked at her in silent desperation. "Anything" he whispered.
She stood up and went to her office window. Staring out it, one had a pleasant view of the front of the school where students were dropped off and picked up in the mornings and afternoons. "Mr. Resen, Rick, I'm not going to lie. I despise what you did to that boy, both you and your oldest son. It was cruel what he has been put through and for many years I have wanted nothing more than to call Social Services and have Chris taken away from you and have you arrested for child neglect. But the only reason why I didn't is because Chris didn't want that. For some reason he wanted you to be left alone. Initially I thought you were threatening him, or beating him. It wouldn't have surprised me or others here at the school."
Rick practically felt his soul burn at hearing those words. Was that how people viewed him here? As some coldhearted bastard who cared only for Jake? Well that certainly was true, but not anymore. "I want my family back Ms. Swan. I want Chris back with me and Jake before he leaves us with nothing but hate and regret in him."
Ms. Swan stared at him from the window, her eyes boring into him, silently weighing him on a scale, deeming if he was worthy or not of her help. Finally she responded. "I will help you. Not out of pity for you or Jake, but for Chris. I agree that he need a family, since he hasn't had a real one in so long." Walking back behind her desk, she began shuffling through some papers. "This came in yesterday. Read it." She handed a letter to Rick. Staring at it, he was floored.
Dear Mr. Chris Resen,
I would like to congratulate you on your acceptance to the University of California at Berkley. Your high grades and achievements will make a large contribution to our academic environment!
I would also like to make you aware that you are eligible for a full ride here with an academic scholarship as well. All we require is for you to mail us your acceptance of our offer.
We look forward to hearing back from you.
Sincerely,
Mark Smith
Dean of Berkley
"When did this come in?" Rick asked in a trembling voice. This piece of paper was like a death trap on him, threatening to sever what remained of his bond with Chris.
"This morning. Chris doesn't know." Ms. Swan said in sympathy. She saw now how desperate Rick was to get back into his son's good graces before it was too late. "The letters come to us first and we give them to the students. Chris said he's drop by tomorrow morning to check with me."
Rick jumped up out of the chair and reached for his jacket and keys. "Where are you going?" asked Ms. Swan in surprise. "Home." stated Rick. "I need to talk to Chris before this reaches him. Any advice on how to do that?" He looked her in question.
"Be honest. Don't hide anything from him, even if you think it's for his own good. He needs you now more than ever; you and Jake. Despite his cold exterior these past couple of days, he's afraid and miserable. You need to show him the love I can see you now have for him."
Rick thanked her and ran out of the office. The sun was already setting and he needed to get home before Chris locked himself in his room. Rick didn't want to breakdown a door, but he was more than willing to try if it meant keeping his family together.
Calling Jake, he told him to rush home.
They had a boy to save.
Chris arrived at his house. Neither his father's nor his brother's trucks were in the driveway. Jake was probably still out in town somewhere, angry at Chris for his behavior earlier in the café. Chris had no clue where his father may be, probably still at work or something. Walking inside, he looked in the fridge for something to fill his empty stomach. Nothing looked appealing except a sandwich or something. Feeling depressed at all that had happened in the last week, he looked deeper inside the fridge for something to make him feel better.
There, in the back was a case of beer. Chris reached for it, needing an escape of some form. He carried the case into the living room and turned on the television. Curling up on the couch, he opened the first bottle and took a deep swig from it. He never had any alcohol before, so even the first taste made his head already feel light and calm. The telltale 'buzz' was well on its way.
He lost track of time. Eventually he finished off the last bottle. He couldn't taste it anymore, his tongue feeling heavy and dull inside his mouth. The room was spinning, so he closed his eyes. It hurt to breath. He started crying, slowly sinking further into his depressed state. So lost in his mood of self-pity and angst that he didn't hear the front door unlock and open.
Rick and Jake walked inside. They saw the lights were on and heard the television playing at a low volume. Walking into the living room, Rick saw first all the empty bottles of beer littering the floor around Chris, who was lying still on the padded furniture. "Chris!" yelled Rick, rushing over to his youngest child. "Champ what did you do?" Chris whimpered in pain, clutching his head in his hands. Jake moved around his family, picking up the bottles one by one. "Looks like he drank the entire case. Damn, not even I would do that…" Chris tried to pull out his father's hands, just wanting to be left alone. Rick tightened his grip on Chris, not letting him go.
"N-no! Lemme go. You hate me!" cried Chris. His face was splotchy and tears were running down his cheeks. "Jake hates me and you don't want m-me!" he sobbed out. Rick made soothing noises, holding his little boy to his chest protectively. Jake threw away the empty bottles and motioned for his dad to follow with Chris up the stairs. Once there, they went to the bathroom and began cleaning Chris up. Jake grabbed a washcloth and warmed it up in some water. Wiping his little brother's face down, Jake whispered to Chris, "Baby bro, I don't hate you. Why would you think something like that?"
The alcohol in Chris made it difficult to talk, but the sinful liquor granted him clarity. "Because you hated me for all those years! And-and you yelled at me at my work! I was so embarrassed, you're so-so mea-an to me!" Jake groaned in exasperation. "But you were mean to me at work too. I tried to apologize, but you kept rebuffing me bro. Why would you do that? You're not a mean guy." Chris cried and clutched at Jake's hand, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I thought if I was a meanie to you, I would feel better. But you got angry and left, and then I cried again. Seems all I do is cry, that's all I'm good for!"
Rick rocked his body, holding Chris's back to his chest firmly, but gently. "Champ. We're so sorry. C'mon, let's get you to bed okay? We'll talk tomorrow morning, I'll call the school and tell them that you're sick. 'Cuz you will be, with a huge hangover." Picking up his son, he and Jake went to Chris's room. Both of them stopped and paused for a moment at the entrance way. They hadn't stepped in here since Lindsey died. It seemed that while Chris was different from Jake or Rick, he still had a few things in common with them. Posters of the family's favorite sports teams were pinned to the wall and there were some books that Jake liked to read on a shelf. Next to Chris's bed was a picture frame, with what their family looked like before they're mom and wife died.
Laying Chris down on the bed, Rick arranged his body so Chris was comfortable. As he was about to move off of his boy, he felt a hand grab his forearm. "Please daddy, please don't leave me alone." mumbled Chris. Rick felt his heart go up into his throat. His 17 year old son was really a little boy, starving for attention and affection from his family. Chris continued, "Please Jake, please chase away the monsters from my closet." Jake felt his throat constrict. He hadn't done that for Chris since he was 10 and Chris 9. Looking at each other, Rick and Jake made an unspoken agreement. Both got on the bed on either side of Chris, wrapping the young man in their arms.
Jake rested his head on Chris's shoulder, "This okay little bro?" Chris mumbled something. Jake leaned forward, "What was that?"
"I'm afraid." was the simple response.
"Why?" asked Rick, who was laying in front of Chris, his head resting on top his son's.
"Because you won't be here in the morning. You never are after my dreams of you two." slurred Chris. "I dream of the two of you loving and making love to me, but I always wake up and I'm alone." Jake and Rick gave a start; Chris had wet dreams about the two of them, together? "When did these dreams start champ?"
"After I attempted suicide for the last time."
The room was silent, than exploded in noise. Both Rick and Jake shot up in the bed, holding Chris between them in desperation as if he were going to die right there between them. Questions of when and why and how resounded around the room. Chris looked like he was in a trance, caught within fatigue, inebriation, and confusion. "I swallowed some sleeping pills, half a bottle. But then I forced myself to puke them up. Nobody knew, not you, not Ms. Swan. I did that a few times, always chickening out though. What finally stopped me was thinking of mom. She would be sad if I left you two, so didn't it anymore."
Rick still held both of his son's in his arms, fearful that if he let go, he would lose one. Tears were flowing out his face onto Chris's head. "Chris, champ, I'm so sorry that we drove you to that. I'll never forgive myself."
Chris didn't seem to hear. He continued his story, unconcerned with what was going on around him. "I ran away one summer. Jake was at football camp and you were at work. I left in the morning and didn't come back for a week." He barely perceived the two bodies around him tensing in horror. "I hung around some abandoned warehouses, unsure of what to do. I didn't plan it very well." He laughed and wheezed between his family members. "For being so smart in school, I make some dumbass mistakes sometimes."
Jake, along with their father, held Chris in his arms. "Chris, when did this happen?" Chris looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "Three summers ago I think, before high school. I just got tired of it all with us in this house." He looked down in sadness. "But I came back because….because…"
Rick leaned down, cupping Chris's face in one of his hands. "Why Chris, why did you come back, after how badly we treated you?"
Because opened his eyes and stared at his father in a single moment of lucidness. "Because I wanted some of the love I now know is between you and Jake." Rick and Jake looked dumbfounded. "In my dreams Jake would come first – he would hug me and kiss me and touch me. And then you dad would come and do the same thing until all of us were making love. But when it was supposed to get really good for me, I always woke up." Chris hugged his dad desperately. "Please don't leave me, I'll be good I swear!"
Jake made calming noises. "Don't worry bro, we'll be here when you wake up."
"Pinky promise?" asked Chris, holding up his right pinky to Jake. Jake hooked with his own. "Pinky promise little bro." Chris looked at his father. Rick took his hand and hooked their pinkies together and doing the same with Jake. "I pinky promise too champ. Now let's get some sleep k?"
"Okay daddy." breathed Chris, leaning into the two bodies holding him. They fell gently onto the soft mattress, with only the sounds of calming breathing coming out of the room.
A/N: k here is part 2! part 3 should be out either sunday or monday! R&R plz!