Bonds of Blood and Tears

By Ryan ; Edited by Erin

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by Ryan Hickey

Chapter 3

The two brothers had held each other and cried together for more than an hour, but now Thomas sat on the edge of his older brother’s bed and just looked down at Jeff as he slept. His brother should have looked at peace as he lay there, but the dark bruises and cuts on his face and arms gave silent testimony to the suffering he had endured, and Thomas felt his rage building now that he knew what lay behind his mother’s madness. Thomas stood and slowly began to pace his brother’s room, clenching and unclenching his fists, grinding his teeth and silently howling in rage at his own blindness for not seeing the truth before, at his own stupidity for letting things get this bad, and at the promise his brother had forced him to make just before nodding off to sleep.

“Promise me, Thomas, that you won’t tell anyone. If you do, they will take us away from Mom,” Jeff begged.

“Jeff, I can’t. Someone has to make her stop. I can't make her stop… I'll try, but…”

“No, you won’t!” Jeff interrupted, “She might turn on you too. You have to promise me you won’t let her know that you know… she might even toss me out to get the 'bad’ influence away from you.”

It was that final argument that had turned Thomas around. He wanted to do something – anything – to help his brother, but he couldn’t risk his help causing more pain. Some of his tears earlier were due to his guilt for having been the cause of his brother’s most recent beating. That guilt also made the rage inside of Thomas flare up, not just at his mother, but at himself. Jeff had asked him to leave, begged him, really, and Thomas could not stop feeling the burning shame that he had so easily ignored the fear in his brother’s voice and eyes. He should have listened, but if he had, he never would have found out the whole story. All he had done was check on his brother and talk to him, and that had earned him the worst beating Thomas had ever seen.

If I hadn’t come back home when I had… God, he might have just lain there all night. Thomas stopped in his pacing as his eyes landed on the red stain on the room’s carpet, about the size of a dinner plate.

The sight of the bloodstain drove the rage out of Thomas and replaced it with a frantic need to erase the horrible evidence of how truly brutal the attack had been. Deep in the back of his mind part of him thought that if he could erase the bloodstain, then he could erase what his mother had done. Thomas left his brother’s room, went to the kitchen and rummaged under the sink for the cleaning solutions his mother used on the living room carpet, grabbing a bottle of carpet soap, the big bottle of Resolve spray, and a hand brush. Then Thomas went into the garage, stopping only long enough to check that his mother was still asleep, having not even stirred when her eldest son had cried out as if losing his mind, and he felt a single tear run down his cheek. Thomas shook his head and turned his back on his mother. His heart was being torn by two equally strong but now totally contradictory feelings. He knew what his mother had done, knew it was wrong, and he hated her for it. But he loved her – she had always cared for Jeff and him, had always looked after them and told them she loved them. Thomas felt the rage returning. How could she betray Jeff like this? How could she betray Dad like this? He left us in her care and he never would have let her do this. Taking deep breaths, Thomas took a bucket from the garage, filling it with warm water and the soap, then lugging it back into the house, splashing soapy water on the tile floor of the hallway and onto Jeff's carpet.

Setting the bucket down, Thomas dropped to his knees and plunged the brush into the water. Drawing it out, he began to scrub the bloodstain, pouring all his rage and fear and guilt into his strokes, making his arms ache with the force he was using. The pain gave a physical, tangible sensation to what he was feeling inside. The blood had been given too much time to dry for Thomas to get the whole stain out with the tools he had. The soap and water removed most of the surface stain and reduced it to a muted red color. The stain remover further worked on the blood, reducing it to half the size of the original and leaving it a faded dark splotch in the carpet.

Wiping perspiration from his forehead, Thomas dropped the brush into the red tinged water and sat back, leaning against the wall of his brother’s bedroom. To him the stain still showed up as clearly as ever, still crying out the horror of what had happened. Thomas shook his head, knowing that the carpet could be pulled out and replaced but he would still see the stain. Looking down at himself, he finally noticed the red blotches on his own clothing, places where his brother’s blood had stained his clothing as he had dropped to his knees and pulled Jeff's unmoving body into his arms, cradling him till he had been able to calm down and remember the first aid training Jeff had taught him, as their dad had taught Jeff before he had died. Moving Jeff had taken forever. Thomas had been terrified that every movement could cause more pain and injury but also knew he needed to get his brother off the floor and into the bed. After getting his brother into the bed, he had stripped off his brother’s shirt and had discovered to his horror the full extent of the beating Jeff had received. The fresh jagged scarring along one side of his brother’s ribs had stopped him in his tracks for five whole minutes while he stared at it horrified that his brother had kept that from him, and enraged that his mother had done it. After getting Jeff out of his shirt and sweatpants, Thomas had gotten a washcloth and a bowl of water and some iodine to clean the many scratches and cuts. The washcloth now resided at the bottom of the trashcan in the front yard, replaced by a fresh one that Thomas had placed over his brother’s two black eyes.  

Thomas sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs and laid his head down on his knees. For the first time since he had figured everything out, his mind was catching up to the events and revelations. He had discovered that not only was his mother beating his brother, but it had been far worse than anything he had thought was going on. Jeff had done a good job of hiding it, intent on keeping Thomas out of it, but that was no longer an option. Thomas knew the full extent of what was being done and why. His older brother was gay, a fag, queer, but, to Thomas' surprise, that didn’t matter. He had made the jokes, and called the occasional kid gay or worse, but had never really taken the time to think about what he had been saying. Looking back upon the things he had said, he felt the lump of shame in his chest grow little by little. As a star soccer player and all-around good athlete, Thomas had always been one of the "cool" kids. He had always had lots of friends and had always loved the attention he had gotten. But he had also been cruel. He had fallen into the trap that many of the 'in' crowd fall victim to: he had thought himself better than everyone. He had thought that the kids that were no good at sports or were too smart were less than him, and he had treated them as such. He had taunted and whispered, and played his fair share of practical jokes, each time telling himself that the other kid 'deserved it'. If they just would change themselves and be more like everyone else, then they wouldn’t be a target. Now his own brother – the person who had taught him how to play soccer, taught him how to climb his first tree, how to camp out, the person he had wanted to be like more than anyone on earth – his brother was one of the 'outsider' kids. Being gay was supposed to be bad. Everyone said so, but Thomas' mind refused to accept that. His brother had always been there for him, had helped out in the neighborhood, and even volunteered during the flooding last year when the other kids were all sent to the school gym for safety.

Jeff had always looked out for everyone around him, the one 'cool' guy that never picked on the 'loser' kids, and had always gone out of his way to make the rest of his friends feel bad when they did. Thomas had always thought his brother silly for bothering to coddle the weaker kids, for sticking up for the kids that couldn’t stand up for themselves. Thomas had admired it, but could never bring himself to do the same thing. It just wasn’t the way things were done in school. Now Thomas understood why: Jeff saw where he could be in the other kids. By standing up for them, he took a stand for himself, even if no one knew about it.

Thomas made a silent oath to himself. I will do what Jeff does. I'll stand up for the other kids. Because they’re someones brother or sister, and I don't want anyone doing to Jeff what I have done to them. I will make it right, if I can.

Jeff woke at the insistence of his bladder. Opening his eyes, he slowly sat up in bed, wincing as the bruises protested the movement. Leaning against the headboard, he took a long look around the room, his eyes falling on the bucket of soapy water and his younger brother resting his head on his knees with his arms wrapped around his legs. Jeff sat there and watched his brother for a few minutes till the call of nature became too great. Pulling back the blankets, Jeff saw the dark red stains on the sweatpants he was wearing. Slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the bed Jeff bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. The muscles spasmed and his left knee felt funny and stiff. Leaning forward, Jeff felt a burning sensation through his lungs as he took a deep breath and began to cough, causing even more pain as his body shook, aggravating the bruised and torn muscles. Jeff's head swam from the pain, forcing him to lay back on the bed, closing his eyes and taking slow ragged breaths with his feet planted firmly on the floor next to the bed.

Thomas woke with a start at the sound of someone coughing and a loud groan. Looking up, Thomas saw his brother lay back on the bed with his legs over the edge. Knowing that his brother must have been the source of the sounds, Thomas stood up, stretching out the muscles that had become stiff as he had sat on the floor.

"Jeff, what are you doing? You’re still not in any condition to be getting out of bed. You need a few days to recover, at least. It could take weeks for some of the worse stuff," Thomas said, stepping towards the bed and his brother.

"I gotta piss like a race horse, Thomas, so either I get up or you find me a bedpan and fast," Jeff said through gritted teeth.

"All right, but let me help you. Lean most of your weight on me, ok?" replied Thomas, standing next to the bed and holding out his left hand to help pull his brother up out of the bed.

The two were able to get Jeff out of bed and to the bathroom together. Jeff insisted on taking care of the business by himself, but Thomas said he would wait outside, and if he needed anything just call. After the call of nature had been answered, Thomas helped his brother back to his room and back into the bed. Jeff collapsed into the bed, exhausted from the pure effort it took to keep moving and to ignore the pain.

"Thanks, Thomas," sighed Jeff as he lay back against the headboard and finally took a long look at his little brother.
"You don’t look so good, bro; you know that?" Jeff said with a smile, taking in the disheveled nature of his brother’s clothes, the red and puffy eyes and tear streaks on Thomas' face.

"Look who’s talking. You look like you just went three rounds with a bull elephant. You’re going to have one really good shiner and the other… well, you’ll end up looking like a raccoon," replied Thomas, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and grinning back.

Jeff slid down the headboard to lie on the bed, letting his aching body relax and closing his eyes. "That's going to be a problem; I don’t know how Mom's going to explain it. And if she can’t, I have to, somehow."

"Well, if worst comes to worst, just tell people you and I got into a fight and I kicked your ass," Thomas said, still smiling.

"That might work, but I don’t know if anyone who knows us will buy it. I can at least explain away the black eyes at school that way," Jeff said with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Well, we can think of something. You get some rest. I have some classwork to do, and I don’t want Mom waking up and finding me in here. I would like to talk to you about… stuff… sometime. I have a lot of questions, but I can wait," Thomas said, taking Jeff's hand in his and giving it a light squeeze. "If you need anything, I'll keep my door open, ok?"

"Yeah; thanks… for everything," Jeff whispered, squeezing Thomas' hand back.

Jeff woke early the next morning as his mother stood in the doorway of his bedroom and shouted at him to get up.
"Get up, Jeff! I will not have you making us late for services. I told you I was going to have you help the minister set up for tonight," shouted his mother.

It took a few moments for Jeff's mind to catch up to where he was and why he felt so bad, then the memory of the day before came flooding back. The pain of the beating was there, but so was the knowledge that his brother Thomas now knew and seemed to accept him for who he was.

Jeff tossed off the sheets and began to sit up. He winced in pain, resting his back against the headboard of the bed and closing his eyes to let his head stop spinning.

"I'll be right out, Mom," Jeff mumbled.
"Now, Jeff, we don’t have time for you to laze about like that." Linda Slattery snapped back, still standing in the bedroom doorway.

Taking a deep breath, Jeff slid his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his feet on the floor. Taking hold of the headboard, Jeff hauled himself to his feet. Swaying, he clutched the headboard with both hands, willing his left leg not to give out as the knee made a popping sound. Jeff opened his eyes to see his mother, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him and tapping her foot in impatience. He looked past her and saw Thomas walk up behind her.

"Mom, do you really think that it’s a good idea for him to go? There is no way anyone's going to miss the black eyes. Maybe he should stay home today," Thomas said, giving Jeff a devilish grin from behind his mother’s back.

"You might be right, honey, and I don’t want everyone asking questions. They might find out that… well, that he is in trouble. Jeff, you stay home today. Thomas will do your work at the church. But you better not laze about all day. Get this room cleaned up, you hear me?" Mrs. Slattery said, gazing a hole through her elder son.

Giving Thomas a grateful smile, Jeff lowered himself back into bed. "Don’t worry, Mom. I'll get it cleaned up," Jeff said with a sigh.

Mrs. Slattery turned and put a hand on her youngest's shoulder, steering him back down the hall, across the living room and towards the garage door. "I'll need you to help after services today, Thomas. I'll go out and grab you some donuts or something as a treat. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine to me, Mom," Thomas said, thinking that she wouldn’t have offered Jeff anything like that. She would have just told him to do it and that would have been it. An idea popped into Thomas' head. Stopping just as he reached the door to the garage, he smacked his head with the palm of his hand. "Hold on, Mom. Ritchie asked to borrow my Halo II game. I need to go grab it from my room." Turning away from his mother and slipping out of her grip, he headed back through the family room and turned down the hallway.

"Be quick about it; we don’t want to be late. I'll be in the car. Lock up behind you, honey," she shouted after him, taking her keys out of her purse and heading into the garage.

Thomas darted into his room, grabbed the Halo II case, a pen and a slip of paper, and ran down the hall and into Jeff's room. Jeff opened his eyes, surprised to see his brother pelting into his room.

"Thomas… what about Mom? What if she…" Jeff began to ask only to have the question waved away by his brother as he was handed the pen and slip of paper.

"Jeff, I don’t have much time, so make it short and sweet." Thomas said in a rush.
"Make what short and sweet?" Jeff asked in puzzlement.
"You really are dense – your note back to David. He sent you one; now you have to send him one… it’s how it’s done, bro," Thomas replied with a playful smile.

 Light dawned behind his eyes and Jeff scribbled a quick note on the slip of paper and handed it back to his brother, not bothering to fold it closed.

David, I'm sorry – it was all my fault.
I'm so glad you don’t hate me. I miss you too.
Thomas looked at the note and pursed his lips, shaking his head. "Man, I thought gay guys were all sensitive and stuff. You can’t just say that, bro…" Hearing his mother honk the car's horn, Thomas shoved the pen and paper into his slacks pocket and ran from the room. "Don’t worry, Jeff – I’ll think of something better to put down for you… I'll just add that you love him too," Thomas said over his shoulder as he hurried out the door and down the hall.

Jeff just shook his head, knowing that Thomas would do just that. The knowledge that his own brother was willing to not only carry a letter telling another boy that he loved him, but was insistent on it, filled Jeff with a warm feeling. A large grin spread across his face as he listened to the car pull out of the driveway and speed off, carrying his note to his best friend.

Chapter 4

The time leading up to Thomas' soccer teams championship game went by in a blur. Thomas ran interference with their mother with him every chance he could. Pointing out to her how things might look odd if Jeff was outside in the middle of a rainstorm doing yard work, or going to school before he had healed up enough so that the worst of the injuries didn’t show. He also snuck Jeff food on the night that he did something that set her off and she sent him to his room without any dinner. Jeff had also become more and more adept at reciting his mother’s litany in a convincing voice without meaning a single word of it. His brother’s acceptance had given him a new sense of self-worth and had renewed his willpower that had begun to crumble under his mother’s never-ending pressure.

Thomas tried to wander in any time he heard his mother start to go off on Jeff, getting up earlier and getting home as soon as he could after practice, knowing that she was still under the illusion that he didn’t know what was really going on, and would cut Jeff off if he was reciting her mandatory mantra. But with school and soccer and friends, Thomas would still come home and find Jeff bruised and battered no matter what they tried. Thomas had also become the courier that took notes from Jeff to David and back again. David had freaked at first, finding out that Thomas knew about Jeff and was the connection to David too. But after a day or two to think about it, he had found Thomas at soccer practice and dropped off a second note. Jeff had given him a note in return that same night and Thomas had passed it on to a nervous-looking David.

"Now I know how the postman feels, Jeff. I should be charging you two by the letter," Thomas said, smiling at his brother as he slipped into Jeff's room holding out a slip of paper in his hand.

Jeff looked up from his schoolbooks, a big grin on his face, and took the proffered slip of paper, opening it and reading its short message hungrily.

Why can't we see each other, Jeff?
Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?
Please let me know if I can do anything
and remember I love you, Jeff.
Jeff stared at the small piece of paper feeling a lump form in his throat. David had been asking him to meet but Jeff's fear of what his mother would do had prompted him to always come up with reasons he couldn’t. Then David began to ask what was wrong and hadn’t bought the "nothing" response Jeff had sent. Now he was just asking each time and offering to help. Jeff looked up from the note at his brother and smiled in thanks, folding the paper and sticking it into his pocket until he could put it under his mattress with all the others.

"So what’s it like, Jeff?" Thomas asked, sitting on the edge of Jeff's bed, late one night after their mother had once again drunk herself into unconsciousness.

"As compared to what, Thomas? I didn’t feel any different once I admitted it to myself. But I always felt different from everyone else," replied Jeff, leaning back in his desk chair.

"How did you know?" Thomas simply asked.
"A lot of things, really. I like looking at guys. I think about them… you know…" replied Jeff, blushing and looking at his shoes.

"Ok, ok; I guess I don’t really need to know," Thomas said, waving a hand to dismiss the question.
Chuckling, Jeff smiled wickedly. "Well, since you asked: you see, I just love the idea of… oogh" Jeff was cut short as Thomas tossed a pillow and hit him in the face.

"Jeff, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have – you ok?" asked Thomas, worry coloring his voice.
Jeff tossed the pillow back and smiled. "That’s ok, Thomas. I'm not made of glass, and thanks to you I'm doing a lot better than I was. I kind of deserved that. You have been so great about all this that I don’t have a right to tease you with things you’re not comfortable with."

"Even if you were straight, I don’t think I want to hear my bro talk about that… well, wet dreams – it’s just odd," replied Thomas, standing up from the bed. "I think I'll leave you to your love note. I have some math to do anyway. You know I hate that subject."

"So do I. I think it’s genetic," laughed Jeff.
As he was leaving, Thomas asked, "Did Mom tell you if you could come to my game this weekend or not yet?"
"Nope, not yet; I hope she does. I want to see you win that trophy. You’re better than I ever was on the field, Thomas."
"Yeah; that and you know David will be there to watch his brother on one of the other fields too. And you and he can get together," Thomas said playfully, his eyes sparkling as he walked out of Jeff's room. "I'll bug Mom about it tomorrow. I want you there too."

Jeff went back to work, praying that Thomas could prevail on their mother to let him go to the game. Thomas was right: not only would he get the chance to watch his brother play in the biggest game of his life, he could slip away from his mom in the crowd and see David. That thought filled Jeff's stomach with butterflies. Despite the notes, Jeff was still scared that David would be mad at him for seemingly brushing him off so many times. Jeff found it hard to get back on task and just simply flipped thought the pages of The Three Musketeers by Alexander Dumas for his English class. Tomorrow was a Friday and he had a test about the latest book the class had read, but he had read it himself last summer, so he already knew it by heart. Eventually giving up, Jeff put his books back in his bag for the next day along with his class folders. Slipping over to his bed, he pulled up one corner and pulled out the small envelope he was using to keep all the notes from David. With a sigh he slipped the latest out of his pocket and into the envelope, and placed it back under the mattress. He tossed himself onto the bed, reached under it and pulled out the battered old paperback copy of Magic's Pawn by Mercedes Lackey, and began re-reading the only book that had survived his mother’s first ransacking of his room.

With much cajoling, begging and finally deal-making, Thomas and Jeff were able to convince their mother that Jeff should be allowed to go to Thomas’ finals match and cheer him on.

“Jeff, you can go. I have some work that has to get done so I can’t be there for the whole thing, and someone should be cheering Thomas on,” Linda said, giving her two sons an exasperated look. Jeff and Thomas just glanced at each other, hiding their smiles.

“But I don’t want you wandering around. You are to stay and watch the match and that’s it. Once it’s over you come straight home, got that?”

“Yes, Mom,” Jeff said, nodding his agreement, knowing that once his mom left the park, he could slip a way for a bit.

“Thomas will be going to the party afterwards and getting a ride home with the McKinnons, so I need you to walk home, Jeff. It’s only a little further than your school, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Straight home; no detours,” she insisted.

“Yes, Mom. I understand: straight home. Thanks so much for letting me go,” Jeff acknowledged.

“Understand that this is a test, Jeff. You have made a lot of progress and it looks like you may be getting better. You may have gotten all that nasty…” glancing at Thomas, she shifted uncomfortably, “…all that unpleasantness behind you. I haven’t had to correct you as much as before. So don’t disappoint me: stay away from those bad influences that led you astray to begin with, or you will really be in for it, got that?”

“Yes, Mom,” Jeff said, barely suppressing a smile. If his mother knew that he was even more comfortable with who he was and had truly started to accept that he was gay in part due to her constant lectures, mantras and beatings, she would totally lose it.

Saturday was the nicest day for weeks. The sun was out, it was warm, and the weather report showed no rain all day. The park with the soccer fields swarmed by kids on teams, the families of the players and the different officials. All the different age groups had their finals on the same day, because the park had so many fields. It saved time and effort, and allowed parents with kids in more than one age group to easily move from one game to the next.

Jeff sat next to his mother through the first fifteen minutes of Thomas’ game, watching her fidget and glance around. She hadn’t had anything to drink and normally by this time on a Saturday, she was well on her way. It didn’t surprise Jeff when his mother suddenly stood up and declared that she had to get home to get some work done and that he had better remember the rules. Then she strode out of the park and Jeff watched her drive off.

Once his mother had driven out of sight, Jeff got to his feet. His knee still gave him trouble, causing a limp, and the worst of his bruises still hurt, including a new one he had gotten only the other day because his mom had caught him giving Thomas a hug. Luckily for Jeff, she had been mostly sober, so it had only earned him a few slaps and punches. Taking a deep breath, Jeff scanned the crowd. After a few minutes of searching, his eyes landed on the one person he had come to see. David stood next to the concessions stand one field over, leaning against a tree and chatting with the clerk. Jeff slowly started walking that way, drinking in the sight he hadn’t seen in over two months. David was a classic hunk, just under six feet, at age 16, blond hair cut short except in the bangs that hung down covering his left eye. The other eye was a stunning crystal blue that would darken to a stormy color when he got excited. His face was as of yet hairless, and when he smiled, two perfect dimples formed on either side of his face.

Jeff was so captivated thinking of David that he was surprised when he nearly walked right past him and into the side of the concessions stand. David was smiling at him and laughing. Jeff loved the musical sound of David’s laugh. It seemed to fill the world. David put out a hand and took Jeff by the arm to stop him from walking into the wall.

“Earth to Space Cadet Jeff – Earth to Jeff – you in there, buddy?” David asked.

Shaking his head, Jeff smiled back and blushed. “Yeah; sorry about that. I had something on my mind.”

“More like someone, the way you were staring at me. Seeing you is like seeing a tall glass of water after the Sahara, but we have to be a little more discreet than that, Jeff,” David said, blushing as well.

“Well… so… ummm… so…” Jeff mentally kicked himself. A real Don Juan you are, dumbass.

“Yeah… ummm… I missed you, Jeff. I REALLY missed you,” David said, looking down at his own feet. “I’m glad you came. I was worried that I’d never get the chance to see you again.”

“Yeah, well, you know, it’s the new school and everything. Getting settled in, not much free time, you know?” Jeff said, looking anywhere but at David.

“Yeah, your note said that, but… well, but why couldn’t I come over to say hi or something? I mean, I can understand if you didn’t want to come over to my place but… what did I do?” David said, emotion making his voice break.

“Oh, gosh, David, you didn’t do anything! Well, nothing bad anyway. It’s not you, it’s… it’s…” Jeff looked around. This was too public a place to have this discussion with people coming and going. “Damn: we need to have a talk and this isn’t exactly the place for it.”

“My dad and I helped with the setup. I still have the key to the equipment shed next to number four field… if you wanna… well, we don’t have… I mean…” David trailed off, blushing even more and digging the toe of one Nike into the dirt.

“No, that’s a great idea. It will give us the privacy to talk… and um… stuff, if you wanted to, you know,” Jeff said hopefully.

‘Ok, great. Let’s go,” David said, and the two friends took off towards the far side of the park, arriving at an old wood and aluminum storage shed with a padlock on the door. David and Jeff made a quick scan of the area, but everyone was watching the game on field number four, so with the lock off, the two young men slipped inside, shutting the door behind them.

David flipped the light switch, and the small florescent bulb sprang to life, giving the dirty, dusty and crate-filled shed a dim light. David turned to look at Jeff and the two of them just stared at each other for what felt like hours. David opened his mouth to speak, but Jeff held up his hand.

“Please let me go first.” Jeff closed his eyes and took a deep breath like a high diver preparing for the plunge. “I’m gay, David. I know I’m gay, and I… I think I’m ok with that. I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you for anything. I had these feelings before we kissed and started to make out. I have had a crush on you… well, forever, I think. I don’t think I knew what it was for the longest time. I just loved being around you. I felt whole with you around. I felt happier, stronger… I simply felt better. And then that day we kissed for the first time – well, it was the greatest day of my life. I never wanted it to end, but it did and my mom found us. I know she outed you to your mom and dad. I’m sorry for that; I really am. I want what we shared, David. I want to hold you and be held by you. I want to kiss you and touch you and do all the things guys are supposed to do with girls.” Jeff’s eyes never left David’s. He blushed more and more as he spoke, but he kept plowing on, knowing that if he stopped, for even a moment, he would chicken out and make a run for it.

“I don’t know if it’s love, David. I’m too young to really know what that is, but I know I love you. I know that I will always love you in some way. I hope you feel the same way, but if you don’t, I can understand. If you just want to be friends, well, I can live with that, but you will be the center of my wet dreams for some time to come. I can’t change that. I hope we can stay friends.” Jeff let out a massive sigh and let his shoulders sag, his eyes still locked with David’s.

David opened his mouth once, twice, three times but no sound came out. Closing his mouth the last time, he squared his shoulders and simply stepped up to Jeff. Wrapping his arms around Jeff’s waist, he leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. David held the kiss there, slowly opening his mouth and brushing his tongue along Jeff’s lips, inviting him to open them. Jeff was stunned for a moment, but the moment passed and he opened his mouth and fell into David’s arms and returned the kiss with all the pent-up emotions of the last two months.

The two young men stood like that for some time. Eventually, they had to sit on the edge of some crates holding hands. David looked into Jeff’s eyes and smiled, the dimples forming on either side of his face.

“I’m not as good with words as you are, Jeff. I’m more of a man of action, so I hope that told you how I feel.” David wrapped his right arm around Jeff’s waist.

Now that the adrenalin rush of the moment had started to pass, Jeff’s injuries came back in full force. He winced as David held him close, causing the other to look at him in surprise and concern.

“Ok, Jeff: time to come clean. If you really do feel that way about me, you have to tell me everything. What’s happened?” David persisted, the look of concern on his face making the dimples disappear.

“You have to promise me – you have to swear on your life that you won’t tell anyone, ok?” Jeff insisted.

“Ok,” David said, nodding but feeling uneasy about making the promise to his potential boyfriend.

Jeff took another deep breath and began a narrative of the last two months, starting with the beating he had taken just after David had left that last night. In a blank unemotional voice, he relayed the pain of the shattered bottle across his ribs, and the agony as his mother had kicked him while he lay on his bedroom floor. He told David about the mantra he had been forced to say every day, and about the days on end he would have had to go without food until his brother had started to sneak him food. He told of how Thomas had finally decided enough was enough and took it upon himself to help Jeff, despite his insistence not to. He told the young man next to him, whose face had gone deathly pale and looked to be on the verge of throwing up, how Thomas had found out why this had all happened and how he had made it clear that it didn’t matter, that he loved Jeff and would stand with him. Jeff finally told David why he and Thomas had not told anyone: the fear of what his mother might do if she found out, Jeff’s stubborn refusal to be the reason Thomas lost his other parent, even if she was a drunk. Jeff told David how he planned to just survive till he was eighteen and then move out and away from her.

David just stared in shocked silence at Jeff, not knowing what to say and afraid to hold Jeff close for fear of doing more harm. David’s thoughts went back to his own family’s reaction. His mother had cried for a minute. His sister had said it was about time he had told them. His father had said “But you’re so good looking.” His brother still didn’t know; the family had thought it best to wait and tell him when he was older. But even his father, who had stormed out and brooded after his first comment had come to David the next week and had told him that David was his son and he loved him. It didn’t matter who David loved, as long as he was happy and the other made him happy.

Finally, David said pleadingly, “Jeff… we… we have to tell someone. My mom and dad, the cops, somebody.”

Jeff stood, dropping David’s hand and looked at him. “You promised! You told me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

‘I know, but this—! I didn’t think it could be this bad. You can’t live like this for two more years, Jeff. She’ll kill you! I can’t let you live like that. Even if I didn’t love you, man... It’s wrong, no mother…” David stood as well, still pleading with Jeff, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“NO!” Jeff shouted and turned to walk out.

David put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder to stop him. “Jeff, she can’t do this to you. You can stay with my family, you and Thomas. You don’t have to live like that, not now, not ever.”

Jeff spun around, his eyes flashing in anger. David missed the warning signs through his own tears. “I said NO, GODDAMNIT! NO! I will not be the one to take Thomas’ mother away from him. I will not be the reason he is put into foster care and we are split up!”

“But, Jeff, you don’t…” David was cut short as Jeff let fly with a right hook to his face. David stumbled back in shock. His eyes went wide as his hand came up to his mouth, feeling the blood there. He just watched as Jeff took a second swing at him, hitting him in the face a second time. This blow knocked David to the ground, and he just looked up at his attacker with true fear as if seeing him for the first time.

Jeff took a step towards the other kid’s prone body, rage welling up inside him. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let anyone tell. Then his eyes locked with David’s and in them he saw fear. He had never wanted to cause that in another living person. In that instant, he understood how his mother could do what she had done, and saw how he must have looked the first few times, but this time it was him beating someone who loved him and did not deserve it. He realized that if he didn’t step back from this, he would become his mother someday.

Jeff spun on his heel and ran from the shed, tears streaming down his face as he cried. He wailed for what he had done. He could never forgive himself or let others forgive him. He had hurt David – he had attacked him because he got angry – he had become the monster he hated.

Jeff ran all the way home. Reaching the front door, he stumbled, out of breath and out of tears. His sides heaving, all the old pains forgotten for the run came flooding back. Opening the door he nearly collapsed on the entryway rug. But with the last of his strength he dragged himself to his room. He stopped at his door in surprise to see it a total mess with his mother standing in the middle of the room glaring at him, holding a fistful of small pieces of paper in one hand and… his eyes flew wide upon seeing what she had in her other hand. He looked up and saw no emotion in her eyes, just emptiness. She looked back at him and waved the fist of papers at Jeff.

“You lied to me. You made me believe you had repented. What’s worse, you lied to God, and for that I cannot forgive you. You are a sinner! I have tried… Oh, have I tried to make you see this and to teach you how to be different but you are just too sick, too corrupted to get better.”

Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but his mother shouted him down.

“YOU LIED, YOU DEVIANT! I will not let your evil and sin infect this house any longer. I will not let you spread it to my son, to my innocent lovely son.” She spat at him as she raised her other hand, the light in the room glinting off of the chrome of the .38 snub-nose revolver she had gotten after her husband had died.