#last month it was chicken bones this month it's he got into a cupboard where my dad keeps his nioxin

[leofrith]

having a cat is fun because every few months or so you get to spend a few days in a panic because he's doing his very best to kill himself completely by accident <3

[remedialpotions]

Oh number 6 please! You do angsty stuff the best! Maybe something with the war? After it? During it? Whatever you go with for the word will be fab anyway!

Thank you! This definitely got pretty angsty and more Ron-centric than Ron/Hermione but I hope you like it! 💕

***

hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

Ron was not exactly picky where he slept. He had never understood all the fuss over lush pillows and silky satin sheets; he had slept with the same Chudley Cannons blanket since the age of seven, and it had suited him just fine for ten years. He had also been perfectly happy to spend the night, for weeks on end, in a sleeping bag on the unyielding wooden floor of his brother’s cottage. He always sort of felt that when push came to shove, he could pretty much sleep anywhere.

But he couldn’t sleep here.

The Burrow was still standing, strictly speaking. There were signs of spell damage, charred streaks on the walls and overturned furniture, and all of the food in the scullery had gone rancid, but the bones of the house were still there; the thing had not toppled over completely. Strange, though, because it felt so cold when they all first stepped inside. Back in Scotland it had been uncharacteristically warm and sunny, verging on hot, even, but the Burrow had gone cold in a way it never had before.

So they’d all gotten back to the house, and Ron’s dad had briefly assessed the damage and then begun dutifully picking up the shards of shattered dishes on the floor - not for long, though, because Bill and Percy had exchanged a glance and then pushed him out of the way, insisting on tidying up themselves. Charlie had gone into the sitting room to heft the bookcase back into place. Ron’s mum and George were still back at Hogwarts, unwilling to leave Fred behind.

And Ron, flanked on either side by his two best friends - or rather, his best friend and his almost-girlfriend (he hoped, at least), had drank in the sight of his childhood home, hungrily, searching for something he could no longer find.

His parents weren’t messy or unclean people by any means - his mum was always bustling about, casting cleaning spells and sweeping the floors - but the Burrow had always been prone to clutter. It was inevitable in a house of that many people. Stacks of cookbooks always lined the windowsills and parchments boasting particularly impressive OWL results were plastered the cupboards and yet now, even though the Weasleys had likely not had time to pack up everything they treasured before their escape to Aunt Muriel’s, it seemed quite bare. Devoid of everything that had once given it personality and heart.

Ron had found his legs carrying him toward the stairs, which were coated in a thin, even layer of dust. Vaguely he realized that his hand and Hermione’s had locked together, and he didn’t know who had reached for whom. He also hadn’t thought it mattered.

The stairs had creaked and groaned under the weight of the three of them, the wood cracking and splintering. Doors on each landing were left ajar; Ginny’s bed was left unmade. All Ron wanted was his own bed, and the trip up to the top floor had never taken so long.

Finally, he had reached the landing. The little placard on the door reading Ronald’s Room was still there. It had been there for years and years, so long he had stopped noticing it, but he couldn’t remember now where it had even come from. He wouldn’t have made it himself; he hated being called Ronald. It seemed like something Percy would have done - labeling everyone’s stuff, everyone’s space, putting people in their place.

He wanted to rip it down.

“Oh, Ron,” said Hermione urgently as he reached for the doorknob, “maybe you should-“

But before he could really register her voice, he turned it, and he had barely pushed the door open an inch when an acrid smell like a moldy drain smacked him in the face. Stumbling back, he slammed the door shut again.

The ghoul. He’d forgotten about the bloody ghoul.

“Well,” stammered Harry, “we can just - like - put him back into the attic, can’t we? And do some charms for the smell?”

Ron shook his head, so many words fighting to escape his throat that none of them did. There was no way Harry could know - to him, the ghoul was just the thing that made noise in the attic whenever he came to stay - but it was not so easy to just banish it back to its original home. Dealing with the ghoul was the twins’ thing, it had taken both of them to accomplish the task of dressing it in pajamas in the first place. And now Fred was gone - Ron closed his eyes against the thought, he’d seen it but he still couldn’t believe it - and there was no quick and easy way to put things back how they’d been.

“Forget it,” said Ron, Hermione’s hand still in his as he moved to the stairs again. “I’ll just sleep on the sofa, it’s fine. I don’t care.”

But he had been lying on that same sofa for hours now, and he just couldn’t. He knew that if he would just do as Harry had done, and down a dose of Dreamless Sleep, that he might find some respite from the anxious whirring in his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he let himself fidget, tossing and turning on a sofa that he had not remembered being so cramped and stiff and scanning the room to find just one solitary little thing that hadn’t changed.

The whole time they’d been out searching for Horcruxes, he had just wanted to come back home. Even after he’d pulled his head out of his arse and returned to them, he had missed it: his mum’s cooking, the petrified gnome atop the Christmas tree, the clucking of the chickens and the sweet scent of the apple orchard. And now he was back, and none of it was here. Fred was gone, and George was a mess and Mum was a mess and they were all messes and none of it was ever going to be how it was. Nine months ago, he had Apparated away from an ambush, and he hadn’t known then that he would never really return.

The stairs creaked again. Ron rolled over on the sofa, the soles of his feet crammed uncomfortably against the armrest, and then sat up. From inside the kitchen, something glowed - not a wavering, flickering glow from a lantern, but steady and bright like from a wand. Both out of curiosity and a concern that they there may still be Death Eaters at large, he pulled his wand out from under the cushion he was using for a pillow and padded cautiously into the kitchen.

It was not a Death Eater, just Hermione (not that she was just Hermione, she had not been just Hermione to him for years now), kneeling on the work surface with her lit wand held aloft and her head inside a cupboard. If he called out to her, he’d probably startle her and cause her to fall, so instead he approached until he suspected he was in her peripheral vision.

“What’re you doing up there?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

She started, a bit, then relaxed. “I couldn’t sleep,” she explained as she peered down at him. “I just thought I’d make tea.”

“Get down from there, I’ll get it.”

He set his hands on her hips to help her, and as her feet touched the floor, her eyes darted up to his, then away. He swallowed; Merlin, he wanted to kiss her again.

“Tea’s usually in here,” he said instead, opening the cupboard next to the one she had open, only to find it contained a glass jar of flour, some dried cherries (with fruit flies swarming in the air around them), and not one single tea bag. “Oh. Guess not.”

Likely they’d just run out in those tense final days before going into hiding. Or his mum had grabbed the last box of the earl grey on her way out the door - it had been her favorite, last time he’d been around enough to know things like that. Or maybe he was just remembering wrong. He reached up and opened another cabinet, but that one just had a big tub of uncooked porridge, and the next one was completely empty, so he dropped to his knees and checked under the sink, but there was just an empty jug of Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover and a big pile of rags.

He slammed the door shut; his legs didn’t quite feel strong enough to stand. You’re just knackered, he told himself. You just need sleep.

Small, cool hands rested on his shoulders. “It’s fine,” said Hermione gently. “I don’t really need it. I’ll just make hot water and lemon-“

“The lemons‘ve probably all gone off by now,” he muttered.

“Honey, then. That lasts forever.”

Ron sat back on his heels and looked down resentfully at his shaking hands.

“I just want you to have what you want.”

She sat next to him, her arm slipping through his. “It’s really fine-“

“It’s not,” he said, his voice oddly strangled. “The tea used to always be in that one cupboard, all right? My parents have lived here for thirty years and nothing’s ever changed, I know that’s where they keep the bloody tea.”

Even as he spoke, the words flooding out of him before he could even hope to stop them, he knew he was wrong. The whole house had been constantly changing from the moment his dad had gotten the wild idea to turn an old pigpen into a home for actual human beings. They’d built room after room, one right on top of the other, with the birth of each child and Ron distinctly remembered, with a lump in his throat, the day his dad fire-proofed the twins’ room after they had set the carpet ablaze.

“Tomorrow,” said Hermione, and Ron craned his neck to look at her, thrown by this sudden shift, “we can get things sorted with the ghoul.”

“I’m not worried about the ghoul.”

“But he can’t stay there forever, can he?” she said reasonably.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” She squeezed his hand, and he gripped her just as tightly back. “I promise you, we’ll get everything sorted in the morning. It’s - it’ll be all right.”

Their faces were already so close, she needed only to turn her head the slightest bit to brush her lips against his cheek. Her breath fell soft onto his skin as she pulled back, and he moved in to kiss her, as gently and lightly as he could. There didn’t seem to be any need to rush. There was time, now the war had ended, to figure out how to move forward.

He nodded. “Everything’ll be all right.”

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

I wrote a short story based on the beginning of Open Heart 2. Enjoy

So in my head, MC is named Matthew Valentine (I wasn’t keen on the original name of Casey) and this story takes place right at the start of book 2, concerning MC and Rafael...

Matthew Valentine gritted his teeth as he waited out his current situation. The grunting of his ‘catch of the night’ was getting faster and faster and then, with a gasp and a groan, the deed was done. There was a few minutes pause as the two of them caught their breath. Matthew glanced at the corner of the room and sorely wished he hadn’t; he had seen something that looked suspiciously like a pile of mouse droppings. 

“That weren’t bad,” the other man said, gruffly. “You don’t give much though. You’re pretty passive.”

Matthew’s companion for the night was shorter than him, but chubby, with a buzz cut and a little too much body hair than Matthew would have liked to have seen. He hadn’t come across as a particularly socially-smart man and what Matthew had seen of his apartment was only confirming that. 

The other man wiped his nose on the back of his hand and yawned loudly. “I don’t remember the last time I had so much drink and sex but, damn, it makes me sleepy. I’m gonna hit the hay. Help yourself to whatever. And the couch gets comfy.”

“How generous,” Matthew said, without emotion. He couldn’t even summon up mild annoyance at the guy’s lack of bedside manner. “Hey, what’s your-” but a loud snore drowned out the rest of his question. Matthew had intended to ask for his name, but apparently he was not wrong about drinks and sex making him drowsy.

For the first time, Matthew looked at his companion properly, without the fuzz of alcohol in his brain now that the joyless sex had sobered him up a little. Once again, he bitterly regretted everything. 

The man was lying on his side, stark naked and spread out. His mouth was wide open and a string of drool was already forming. This was the man Matthew had lowered himself to, the man he thought would be worth it.

 Suddenly filled with shame, Matthew hastily dressed and left the room, closing the door behind him. The snoring made it shake in its frame. 

Stepping out into the apartment, Matthew turned on the light--a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling--and took a proper look around. Definitely meant for a single occupant--or maybe a young couple, madly in love and just starting their journey together with nothing but many promising years ahead of them--it was merely a living room and kitchenette, with a shower room off to one side. With a deep breath, Matthew headed to the kitchenette for a cup of coffee.

There was a pile of stained dishes in the sink, pots and pans stacked along the counter and utensils everywhere. There were also piles of takeout boxes from various restaurants. Matthew idly wondered if the plates at the bottom of the sink had been soaked into rust. The whole place was giving off a smell that would have made Sienna throw up and faint. There were, however, a large number of mugs in one of the cupboards. Why wash up when you can just buy a fresh one, Matthew thought. 

As the kettle boiled, Matthew leaned gingerly against the counter. He ran his hand through his hair and was reminded that he badly needed a shower. It had been too long anyway but the need had become dire ever since he had bumped into the man who was now snoring in the bedroom. Matthew rubbed his face and felt spots along his forehead, like he was going through puberty a second time. 

He spooned instant coffee powder into a mug with a picture of a dog wearing sunglasses on it, opened the fridge to get milk and instantly recoiled. The inside of the fridge was giving off a powerful smell of rotten cheese, the date on the milk was three days ago, and there was an exposed raw chicken breast right in the middle of the shelf. 

Matthew slammed the door shut, stumbling backwards and instantly tripping over his feet, landing on a carpet covered in dubious stains. All he could think about was cleansing and stumbled into the shower room, turning on a flickering fluorescent light. Again, he retched. 

The toilet hadn’t been flushed and there were yellow piss stains along the seat and walls. There were dark, wispy hairs along the bottom of the shower and rim of the sink. The toothpaste was open and squeezed which had attracted a number of ants to the sweet, sticky substance. Ironically, the toothbrush was bone dry.

Another snore shook the apartment. Rain started up against the window, a light patter at first but quickly descending into a full-on rainstorm.

“Fuck it. Rain is better than here,” Matthew said aloud. He was probably contracting SARS or Cholera or TB just by standing here. He turned and stumbled out of the apartment into a draughty hallway and ran down three flights of stairs that smelled of urine and vomit. 

The rain instantly soaked him to the skin, but for once Matthew didn't care. In fact he felt relieved and took a few minutes just to stand, holding his arms out and breathing fresh, clean air.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he started to walk in the general direction he had come. He hadn’t been so far gone that he couldn’t remember his surroundings. At least, not by alcohol level. 

Matthew had finished work earlier that day and headed to Donahue’s with Elijah and Bryce. It had been a relatively good day, the best in a while; he had made the correct diagnoses on several tricky cases and seen his new intern kicking medical arse, and as the three of them had headed for the bar he had finally felt like he might be OK after all. And then he had glanced over his shoulder, only to see Rafael smiling that wide smile at Sora as she ran into his arms laughing, and everything came flooding back. 

Bryce and Elijah hadn’t seen that bit and Matthew didn’t want to bring the mood down--after all, he should have moved on by now, it had been two months and it’s not like he and Raf had ever made things official or anything--but now he just felt empty. Elijah had suggested darts, Bryce was up for it, Matthew suggested he would buy another round. As he headed for the counter his catch of the night had bumped into him, already drunk.

The catch had leered and suggested, and Matthew realised he had stopped caring about anyone or anything. What did he have to lose? So he let the man kiss sloppy, beer-stinking kisses all over him before dragging him back to that petri-dish of an apartment.

“I probably caught so many diseases I will be hospitalised for life,” Matthew said aloud. “And who will wait at my bedside for hours after their shift and order me my favourite food even though it’s strictly against hospital policy and you could get in serious trouble for it? Who will lie on my bed next to me? Who will hold my hand and watch crappy TV to pass the time? Well, I know who WON’T be doing that!” He threw his arms into the air and shouted to the sky “Was I not the one who stepped up and performed life-saving surgery on you with no training?!”

Matthew took another step but missed his footing and went head over heels. And he couldn’t bring himself to move from there.

“Look at Dr Valentine now.” he muttered. “Top of his class at medical school, nationwide. Top intern at the world-renowned Edenbrook Hospital. Youngest member of the most elite diagnostics unit in the country. Colossal pain in the ass. Stand-by surgeon. Patient killer. Can’t keep a good man so he gives himself away to the worst of them,” and Matthew began to cry. 

The rain continued to lash down, soaking him even further. He was vaguely aware that his ankle hurt and he had various cuts and bruises, but none of that compared to the agony of his heart that just could not be healed.

“Through his tears, Matthew gaged his surroundings from where he lay. He had moved away from the apartments and was now mostly surrounded by small houses. Some had the lights on behind the closed curtains. Probably two people snuggling together after making love. Exchanging gentle caresses and sweet nothings. A small, meaningful look over the rim of a teacup. 

“What did I do to turn you away, Raf?” Matthew sobbed. “Why did you do this to me?”

But...Matthew couldn’t lie on the sodden pavement forever. And he couldn’t cry forever. He took a deep breath and pulled himself into a sitting position, wiping his eyes, and then gingerly got to his feet.

He yelped when he first put weight on his ankle, but he could walk on it. And his surroundings were definitely familiar. He could walk from here. 

It was another half an hour before he stumbled though the entrance of the hospital that had become his second home, soaked to the bone and numb with cold. He shuffled to the reception desk but stopped short when he saw Dr Harper Emery at the desk, going through some paperwork. She glanced up and her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Dr Valentine? Are you-”

“Could I have a first aid kit, please?” Matthew asked politely. To his horror, the tears were threatening again. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and lifted his chin a little.

Dr Emery took in the show of strength, Matthew’s torn, bloody clothes, the fact that he was caked in mud from head to foot. But she was most worried about his red eyes and wet, spiky eyelashes.

“Go to the on-call room and take a shower, and feel free to change into dry scrubs for your way home,” she said, unusually gentle. “I’ll bring you a first aid box in a few minutes.”

Matthew shuffled along to the on-call room. Dr Emery’s concern had caught him by surprise and his lip was trembling. Occasionally he passed another member of staff who gave him a startled look and stopped watching where they were going to stare.

The on-call room was mercifully empty. Matthew limped into the shower room and flinched when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. I look terrible he thought, taking in his scruffy hair, flushed and tear-stained face, the mud that now coated him. No wonder people have been giving me a wide berth. 

The warm shower felt good, the mud, blood and rain washed away as Matthew finally scrubbed off the feeling of the drunk man and his filthy apartment.

He dried off and took Harper’s advice to wear clean scrubs. She had left a first aid kit on one of the beds and Matthew started applying antiseptic to the worst of his cuts.

“Matthew?”

Matthew looked up from binding his ankle. Sienna was standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

“I was on my way out when Dr Emery said you were here and might need help.” She looked him up and down. “Matthew, what happened?”

“I fell. I’m not badly hurt, I’m just binding the ankle for safety, really.” He met her eyes. “I was running away from a really stupid mistake.”

The tears that had been brewing since he had limped into the warm, familiar hospital finally spilled over and Matthew hid his face in his hands.

“Oh, Mattie!” Sienna used her affectionate nickname that she usually used when they were drunk. She sat down beside him and pulled him into a hug, letting him cry onto her shoulder as she smoothed his hair and rubbed his back, making soothing sounds.

“I just don’t know what I did wrong,” Matthew cried. “Everything was so right and I was high as a fucking kite. Everyone could see it, even my patients. I was falling in love. Only now I’m just falling and I don’t know where or how I’m going to stop.” Matthew normally would have cringed at his metaphors but not this time. 

“Landing always hurts,” Sienna agreed softly.

“Matthew gently lifted himself up and told Sienna about the night he had had, accidentally seeing Rafael and Sora together, then the downward spiral that had lead to him lying on a pavement, crying in the rain.

“You’d have run for the hills as soon as you saw that apartment. I can’t believe I let myself go that far. As soon as I realised how low I had sunk, I felt so ashamed of myself.” Matthew’s breath caught in his throat, and Sienna squeezed his hand.

“Honey, we’ve all made mistakes. But the important thing now is that you’re patched up, you’re safe, and there aren’t many place on earth cleaner than a hospital.” Sienna nudged him. “What do you say we go home, order too much pizza and watch something on Netflix? I know you like that show about the man with the horse head, but I don’t think that’s going to help you much now.”

Matthew managed a weak smile. “ Can we order extra cookies with our pizza?” Sienna laughed and ordered two large pizzas--pepperoni for herself, barbeque chicken, sweetcorn and green peppers for Matthew--and extra cookies for the both of them.

Once they had made their way out of the hospital, Sienna looked up at the sky. “It’s stopped raining,” she grinned. “You see, the rain never lasts forever.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “I know what you’re getting at, Sienna...”

“It doesn’t, though. It’s just that some storms last longer than others.”

“...Yeah.”

It was only a fifteen minute walk home, so they had made it back before the food.

“Hey, Matthew, where have you been?” Elijah gasped as he saw Matthew in the doorway. “You didn’t answer your phone. Bryce thought you might have gone off with some handsome man.”

“Well, it was certainly a man...” Matthew grimaced.

“Wait, what?” Now Jackie was stood in her doorway. Matthew sighed heavily.

“Is Aurora here too? I don’t really want to repeat myself again.”

Jackie shook her head, frowning. “Aurora’s at work all night. What happened and why are you so scratched up?”

Matthew told them about his night and the gross hook-up.

Elijah was shaking his head. “Dude, you shouldn’t have bottled that up. You wouldn’t have brought the mood down. And besides, I’d much rather spend a night cheering you up than hear about you getting into that kind of situation again.”

“Same,” Jackie added. “Why would you want to go off with a scumbag like that?”

Matthew hesitated but decided to tell them the truth. “I just wanted to feel something.”

Sienna and Elijah made sympathetic noises. Sienna wrapped her arms around Matthew’s waist, but Jackie snorted.

“Next time you want to feel something, come to me and I’ll knock you into your senses.” She sighed, “Look, I have to get to work but you and I are gonna talk about this tomorrow.” She made her way to the door, but paused and put her hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Medical rankings and competitions aside, I care about you,” she said, firmly.

Before Matthew could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Sienna ran to answer it and came back with her arms full of hot food.

“Pizza night without me,” Jackie gasped in disgust, but grinned at the two of them. “Save me a slice.”

“I’ll take some of those cookies and we’ll say no more about it,” Elijah proposed.

“Deal,” Matthew was smiling now.

He and Sienna took the food into his room, sitting on his bed and watching Friends on his laptop. When they were full, they put their leftovers aside and lay back against the headboard. Matthew leaned on Sienna’s shoulder.

“Why did he leave me?” he said, softly.

“I don’t know.” Sienna planted a light kiss on the top of his head. “But what I do know is that you’re safe and warm and clean. It’s probably going to hurt for a long time and you’ll feel all kinds of emotions...but we love you to bits and we will do anything we can to make you happy. We’d all risk it for you, Mattie. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Thanks Pixie.” When they had drunk heart-to-hearts, Matthew often replied to ‘Mattie’ with ‘Pixie’. “You know, you’d be a great wife one day, to someone deserving. If I weren’t gay, I’d probably hope it could be me.”

Sienna laughed. “Perhaps in another life. And one day you’ll meet someone wonderful and kind and handsome and fully deserving, and none of this will matter.” She yawned. “Time for bed for me, I think. You’ve got the day off tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

“Then pamper yourself. Sleep. Relax. Eat whatever you want. Drink a hell of a lot of water. Ooh, feel free to use one of my face masks!”

Matthew laughed--a real, genuine laugh.

“Will do. Goodnight Sienna.”

“Night Matthew.” Sienna smoothed Matthew’s pillow and switched off the laptop.

“Sweet dreams.”

[haveyouseenmymind]

A New Year’s Eve Surprise

Folks, is it too late for a New Year’s fic? :D Well sorry, this was supposed to be finished a month ago, but here we are.

This is my contribution to the amazing @auduna-druitt‘s EndOfYearChallenge, and I really hope that it’s not too boring. ;)

Fandom: Star Trek AOS

Pairing: McKirk

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Words: 4068

Prompt: You built an igloo this morning and every time I look out the window you’re just kind of sitting in it doing nothing- are you okay?

Jim’s family won’t make it to Earth for New Year’s Eve, so it’s on Leonard to cheer his boyfriend up.

Leonard was looking out of the window, watching the snow fall down slowly, as it added another layer to the already covered ground. He shivered inwardly, glad to be in the warm kitchen, unlike his idiotic boyfriend, who was running around outside in the cold, checking if everything was ok at the farm.

Winter in Iowa, at least for Leonard’s taste, was way too cold to be really enjoyed. But however, thanks to lucky circumstances every member of the Kirk family would be earthbound at the end of this year, and Jim was excited to finally see both his brother and mother again.

And so, after Jim had told him those news and looked at him pleadingly, Leonard didn’t have it in his heart to disappoint the blond. He gave in and promised to come along to Iowa and help Jim getting the farm ready, even though he would have preferred to spend New Year’s Eve all relaxed and in silence in Georgia. At least they had stayed over the holiday’s with his mother, and so he wasn’t too annoyed over the change of their plans for the last day of the year.

Leonard got startled out of his thoughts, when the back door suddenly opened, and Jim stepped into the room. With the thick coat, the beanie on his head and the huge scarf wrapped around his neck and half of his face, the other man was hardly recognizable.

“Goddammit Jim, close the door, you’re dragging the cold in here!”

Thankfully, Jim for once listened to him immediately and closed the door obediently, right before he peeled himself out of his winter clothes and threw them on the floor. Leonard glared at him, not amused about his boyfriend making a mess, but Jim just grinned cheekily. He stepped closer, to give Leonard a short kiss.

“Missed you, Bones.”

Leonard huffed, but his annoyance was all for play. He tried holding back a smile, but failed miserably.

“Idiot, you were outside for only half an hour or so.”

“That’s way too long to go without your cheerful personality. Come on Bones, give me a hug.”

Leonard, unable to deny his boyfriend such a simple request, pulled Jim into his arms, and the blond sighed with content as he returned the embrace happily. For a few minute they stood there in the kitchen, enjoying each others affection, until Jim decided to end it by pressing his ice cold nose into Leonard’s neck. The brunet yelped and slapped Jim, who was laughing his ass off, slightly on the head. Grumbling, he shoved Jim towards the mess of clothes he had left on the floor.

“Go put away your clothes, you infant.”

Jim rolled his eyes at him, picked up his coat and everything else and left the kitchen, but not without turning around one last time and sticking out his tongue.

Leonard snorted, not having expected anything less by the kid, who was even more energetic than usually. He had no idea if Jim knew, but the doctor had noticed how nervous Jim was about New Year’s Eve. Not only would the whole family be assembled, but Jim would also introduce Leonard officially as his boyfriend.

Their relationship was relatively new, still more or less a well kept secret between them and the commanding crew of the Enterprise, and now Jim’s family would be the next to be let in on the news.

As far as Leonard knew, Jim had never introduced any of his partners to his mother before, and so Leonard could understand his nervousness. If he was completely honest, it was quite entertaining to see the normally so confident captain run around like a headless chicken, trying to check endless times if everything was perfect. Adding to that, it was also really endearing, and he might have even fallen a bit more in love with Jim. Though he’d never admit that out loud.

With his boyfriend back inside in the warmth, they could now finally get to cleaning the rest of the house, though he would have preferred a lazy afternoon. And so he left the kitchen with a sigh, hoping that the two of them would get the house ready till everyone else would arrive.

+++

When Leonard woke up the next day, he knew that something was wrong, as soon as he had turned around, seeking the warmth of his boyfriend to cuddle close to while still being half asleep, and found the other side of the bed empty and cold.

Confused, he opened his eyes, but when he looked around in the bed room, he couldn’t spot Jim anywhere. 

His eyes fell onto the clock on his bedside drawer, and when he realized how early it was in the morning, he let out a long suffered groan. So much for sleeping in - without Jim he didn’t see much sense in lazing around in bed. Begrudgingly, he got up and dressed, and headed towards the kitchen, hoping that there would be some coffee ready to help him get through the morning.

All the while, he wondered where his boyfriend had gone to. He could remember that they went to bed together, but with how cold Jim’s side had been, he probably hadn’t stayed in bed for too long.

He surely wasn’t somewhere in the house, otherwise Leonard would have heard him rummaging through the rooms on his way down. And so the last place left for the blond to be was somewhere outside.

But Leonard wasn’t in the mood to go out in the cold and look around for the kid. It probably hadn’t stopped snowing during the night, so it would be still too cold for him to leave the warm house anytime soon. At least not of his own accord.

When he finally entered the kitchen, no cup of coffee greeted him and he stared accusingly at the silent coffee machine. Cursing at his bad luck, he prepped the old machine and waited impatiently for the coffee to be done. Sure, he could have gotten a cup way faster from the replicator, but he was on Earth and and able to have some rightfully brewed coffee. There’d be still enough replicated dishwater when they’d go back into space.

While he was waiting for his coffee to be done, he stared out of the kitchen window and finally noticed his boyfriend, who seemed to have gotten himself busy, as he was nearly done building what apparently was about to become an igloo. 

Leonard watched the spectacle, wondering what Jim was up to, until he got distracted by the coffee machine again. He left his spot in front of the window, to get a mug from the cupboard and pour himself a cup of the desperately needed hot beverage.

Inhaling the delicious smell, he sighed, right before he took his first sip. But his thoughts strayed back to Jim, and so he took his coffee and returned to his spot at the window.

The igloo had been finished in the meantime, and Jim was sitting down right at its entrance now, his gaze directed at some point in the distance. Leonard didn’t really know what to make of that, but if Jim would sit out there in the cold too long, he’d have to drag his ass back inside.

Grumbling at the other man’s foolishness, he left the kitchen to get his PADD from the living room, but he decided to head back and finish his coffee where he could keep an eye on his boyfriend.

Which turned out to be a good idea, as Jim was still sitting outside and staring into the nothingness. Leonard’s irritation grew with every passing minute, since the kid surely would get a cold if he stayed where he was, and in the end Leonard would have to go out himself and drag his stupid ass back into the house.

He decided to give Jim a bit more time before he’d go out and kick his ass, so he sat down at the table with his coffee and PADD, but as time went on his gaze wandered more often to the window than it actually stayed on his PADD.

Jim didn’t move even once, making Leonard more and more restless. He wasn’t sure if he ever had seen Jim being still for such a long time - even in his sleep the blond was always shuffling around, so this was completely unusual for him.

After one last attempt he gave up, his mind too busy worrying about Jim to concentrate on anything else. He got up, headed for the back door, but after one step out, he regretted his decision immensely. It was terribly cold, and he really should have gotten at least his coat and boots, but for now it was too late.

Well, maybe he could convince Jim to come back inside faster if the blond saw him running around without warm clothes.

Cursing himself and his boyfriend, Leonard walked up to Jim, who was still sitting in the same position as earlier. Apparently, the other man was so spaced out, that he didn’t even notice him stepping closer, startling him when Leonard approached him.

“Jim? What are you doing?”

After a short moment, Jim finally turned around, but when he saw Leonard, his eyes widened and he jumped up quickly.

“Me? What are you doing outside so lightly dressed? It’s freezing, Bones!”

“Oh really? You think I didn’t notice this myself?”

Leonard wasn’t really in the mood for any more talking. He just wanted to go back into the house, and preferably back into bed to warm up again. But Jim just stared at him with confusion, not in a hurry to get away anytime soon.

“Then why are you out here?”

“Maybe because you’re an idiot who has been sitting out here for who knows how long? Jim, can we please go back inside and warm up?”

He offered his hand to the blond, who turned around to the igloo to take one last glance at it, before he looked at him and took his hand with a sad smile.

“Whatever you want, Bones.”

To both Leonard’s relief and Jim’s own luck - cause he’d kill the blond otherwise, Jim let himself be dragged back into the house without any complaints or resistance. 

He left the other man back in the kitchen to get rid of his coat, and headed for the fireplace in the living room. After a while he got a fire started, and so he grabbed the blanket of the couch, sat down and huddled himself into the warm cloth, hoping that Jim would join him.

And indeed, not much later he entered the room, stopping in front of the couch, and looked down at Leonard with a mixture of sadness and exhaustion.

“What’s wrong, Jim?”

“They won’t come.”

Leonard’s heart broke for Jim with these words. He had an idea who was meant by them, but he still had to make sure.

“You mean…?”

Jim sighed, and let himself slump down on the couch next to the brunet, who drew the blanket back to pull his boyfriend closer and put it over the both of them. Jim obeyed without another word and put his head down on Leonard’s shoulder in defeat.

“Neither Sam and his family, nor my mom will make it in time for New Year’s Eve. They don’t even know if they will make it at all.”

“Why won’t they come?”

“Well, there was a major setback with one of Sam’s experiments, and since it’s in a crucial state, everything will be for naught if he leaves now. And the warp engines at mom’s ship failed, so she has no idea when they’ll arrive at Earth, but she said they’ll try their best.”

Leonard didn’t know what to say, but no words could make Jim’s disappointment vanish anyway. He knew how much it had meant to Jim that both his mother and brother would spend some time on earth. Jim sighed again, and Leonard wished that he could make him feel better.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised or so disappointed, Bones. Guess I just really wanted to start into the new year with my family. It’s probably stupid, but I wanted it to mean that things could really change.”

“Of all the things you have ever said this is the least stupid, Jim. I’m sorry they won’t come, I wish I could change that for you.” 

Jim lifted his head from Leonard’s shoulder, and smiled at him softly, before he leaned closer and gave him a soft kiss.

“Thank you, Bones. At least I’ve got you by my side, that’s better than anything else I could wish for.”

He smiled back at Jim, but before he could say anything else, a thought came to his mind, as there was still one question left unanswered.

“You know Jim, somehow I still don’t see how the igloo fits into all of that?”

“I just build it out of sentimentality, cause I didn’t know what else to do with my feelings. When we were kids, Sam and I used to build one every winter, and at nights we sat in front of it, watching the stars while he made up so many wild stories about them. I kinda was hoping that we’d revive that tradition with Sam and Peter this year.”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of chances left for that. You’ll get to do that with your brother and his son sooner or later.”

At that Jim let out a yawn, and so Leonard tugged his boyfriend down with him and shuffled around until they both could lay down comfortably on the couch, Jim draped halfway over the other man with his head on his shoulder. Leonard put one arm around the blond and stroked his back upwards to his neck, where he started playing with the soft tufts of Jim’s hair.

“Come on now kid. I don’t know how much sleep you had last night, so let's take a nap for now.”

Jim couldn’t suppress another yawn and nodded sleepily, the stress of the morning clearly having taken its toll on him. Soon, Leonard could feel Jim’s breathing even out, and only a few minutes later was he fast asleep. But for the brunet there wasn’t any thought of sleep, as his thoughts were racing while he was trying to come up with a plan to cheer Jim up.

For the rest of the day nothing else happened, and Leonard was quite happy about it, so he had enough time to plan a surprise for Jim. The blond disappeared a few times all over the day, and when Leonard found him, he was again outside by the igloo, working a bit on it or sitting inside and doing nothing but brooding. Leonard didn’t like it, but at least it gave him enough time to make a few calls without Jim having the chance to eavesdrop on him.

+++

In the end last day of the year had arrived without much ado, except for Jim becoming mor and more melancholic. He tried his best not to let it ruin the day, but Leonard still noticed that the other man had his moments where he was completely absent minded.

As the evening came closer, and the year was running out with its last hours, Leonard’s surprise finally got itself started with the ringing of the doorbell. Jim, completely puzzled, got up from his place on the couch to see whoever was out there.

Leonard, just having finished some last preparations, came out of the kitchen, but held himself in the background with a smirk on his lips. He had an idea who was out there, not an exact clue since there were a few possibilities, but it didn’t really matter. Jim would be surprised in any way, and definitely happy to see the person on the other side of the door.

The face of absolute confusion Jim pulled when he opened the door and saw his chief engineer standing behind was absolutely priceless. Scotty just beamed at his captain and simply hugged him, never letting go of the bottle of scotch he had brought with him.

“Jimbo! How nice to see you!”

He then let go of the still dumbfounded man to greet Leonard in the same way, and gave him the bottle, which was eyed with appreciation.

“Thanks Scotty. I see you brought the good stuff, I might invite you again the next time.”

Jim, who still hadn’t recovered from his shock, looked questioningly at Leonard, but before he could ask what was going on, the doorbell rang for another time. Again, Jim opened the door, and this time Spock and Nyota entered the house. One look at Jim’s stunned face had Nyota smirk as she kissed the poor man on his cheek to greet him, while Spock just nodded and said a simple “Captain”.

Jim didn’t even need to close the door, since a few moments later a cheery Chekov and Sulu, with his husband and daughter accompanying him, stepped up the porch and entered the house, greeting both Jim and Leonard.

The poor blond was completely lost by now, and Leonard having sympathy with his overwhelmed boyfriend, ushered the others who were chatting excitedly with each other, into the living room to have a few minutes alone to talk to Jim.

When they were finally alone, Jim had found his voice again and stared at Leonard with wonder.

“Bones? What’s going on? Why is my commanding crew assembled in the living room?”

Leonard just shrugged in amusement and grinned at the other man.

“You said you wanted to spend the evening celebrating into the new year with your family. So I made a few calls, and they all were more than happy to come over. Except for Spock, I think his exact words were “Fascinating”, but you know that’s his way of showing excitement.”

Jim kept blinking at him dumbfoundedly, and Leonard could watch as he finally understood his words when Jim’s confusion was suddenly replaced by his most beautiful smile. He nearly jumped at Leonard, hugging him close to himself and mumbled a happy “Thank you, Bones” into his neck.

Leonard grumbled good naturedly and hugged his boyfriend back. Just for that everything he had arranged was worth it, and he knew that he had done the right thing.

+++

A few hours later, the old year gone and the new one just having started, Leonard came back with Sulu from one of the guest rooms, where they had put Demora to sleep. His gaze was sweeping over the guests, making him realize that JImwas missing again.

He had an idea where he could be, and so he silently passed by his friends to grab his coat and head outside. He walked towards the igloo, and indeed, the blond was sitting again in front of it, staring up into the sky and at the stars.

“How long have you been sitting here? In case you didn’t notice - it’s fucking cold outside.”

Jim turned his head towards him, smiling softly. He seemed to be calmer and more relaxed than the last few days, and Leonard didn’t have the heart to scold him for much more. So he just sat down next to his boyfriend and huddled closer, seeking for some delicious warmth. Jim shuffled towards him and laid his head down on Leonard’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry Bones, I’ve just been out for a few minutes. I needed some time to calm down from all the excitement, and this was just the right place.”

“Do you want to be alone? I’ll go back inside if you promise me that you won’t stay out here too long.”

Jim just shook his head against his neck, making Leonard snort. He sighed and looked up at the sky, realizing that it just had started to snow again. He decided he’d give Jim a few more minutes, as long as there were still only a few snowflakes dancing down towards the ground, before he’d drag Jim’s ass back inside where he could warm up.

After a few minutes of silence he felt Jim shift and lean up, and so he turned around to see the other man looking at him with a soft smile on his lips.

“Bones?”

“What’s wrong, Jim?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to… I  mean, I… Thank you, Bones.”

Jim took a deep breath, and he looked so insecure for a moment, making Leonard curious what else he had on his mind.

“I’m sorry Bones, I was probably a moody ass during the last days, and you really didn’t deserve having to deal with me. But more than that I’m so grateful and in awe what you pulled off behind my back. I mean, you invited all of our friends to cheer me up, and reminded me that family is more than people you are bound to by blood.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you be all mopey and miserable, so no need to thank me for that.”

“Maybe, but I still want to. And I know that we haven’t been that long together yet, and that we wanted to see where this relationship would take us, but the last few hours made me realize something.”

He took another deep breath and looked at Leonard with so much sincerity, that the brunet could feel his heart beating faster.

“Bones, you’re it for me. I love you.”

Now it was Leonard’s turn to be speechless. Jim was right, their relationship was fairly new, and he was surprised that Jim was voicing out his own feelings, since he knew how hard it was for the blond to talk about his emotions, even though he was showing them by his actions day by day.

Just when he wanted to answer Jim, they were interrupted by a snowball that landed right at the side of Jim’s face, who spluttered and cursed violently. They both turned to where the snowball had been thrown from, and were surprised by what they saw.

There, on the ground, was another blond man rolling around and howling with laughter. Jim, who had gotten rid of all the remaining snow in his face, recognized the figure on the ground immediately.

“Sam! But how… I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it?”

Jim’s brother tried to calm himself down, and finally sat up, grinning madly at the still shocked man.

“Oh god, your face! I wish you could have seen your dumb face.”

Jim glared at Sam as he grabbed a handful of snow, ready to start the snowball fight for real. But his brother held his hands up placatingly, trying to defuse the situation.

“Ok, sorry Jimothy. How about a truce for now? I’ve had a long day and I really need a drink and some good sleep afterwards. You know, it’s been taking me nearly all day long to find a suiting substitute to watch over my experiment. Thankfully one of my colleagues wasn’t leaving the station for the next weeks, so he was willing to overtake the reins for a while. Aurelan and Peter will join us tomorrow, but I had to come here as soon as possible, since for nothing in the world would I have wanted to wait for your stupid face when I surprised you.”

Leonard, who had gotten up, watched as Jim jumped up and helped his brother to get back on his feet, before he hugged him tight to his chest. When he let go of him, he punched him slightly on the arm as revenge, though his smile clearly betrayed his actions.

Sam started laughing again, but then he stopped suddenly, as if he had just remembered something.

“Come on now, guys. Better let's get back inside. When I went out, mom had started talking to your first officer, and I think it’s better if we save him now, you know how she loves to confuse and rile up people.”

“Mom’s here, too?”

But Sam hadn’t heard him, since he was already jogging back towards the house. Jim turned back to Leonard, reaching out for him, and with a smile the brunet grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers, right before they followed Sam back to the house to let the party come to an end.

tags (Strikeouts I can’t tag) : @thevalesofanduin @medicatemedrmccoy @toosouthernforspace @reading-in-moonlight @feelmyroarrrr @0dannyphantom0 @eyeofdionysus @bsotstory @neon-green-bra @loststarlight @imoutofmyvulcanmind @fireboltrose7559 @ree923 @str8-jack-it @flaminglupine

McKirk: @mishacolyte @joannaleemccoy

Star Trek:  @theartofeheheh @samleerandom

If anybody else wants to be added to or removed from my tag list, or has special wishes for being tagged, just let me know. :)

[bookwormscififan]

New Practice

So, after settling into the family house, Malvern takes Jared to a hut in the woods to start his practice again.

Word count: 1966 words

Also, you’ll learn a bit more about what happened to Chase during Mayhem.

Malvern walked with Jared, chatting light-heartedly. He had told the magician about a small hut he had found on his rounds.

“…Right here.” Malvern stopped talking as he turned and raised his arms in a flourish. Jared looked at the small hut, half-secluded behind the entrance of a forest.

“It’s a small place, I know. But I remember in one of your Christmas letters to Jux and me that your house was smaller. This place has a proper bathroom. I know it isn’t much, but maybe you’d like to stay here sometimes to practice medicine again?” Malvern looked at the ground, face reddening. Jared raced to his side, putting his hand on the hero’s shoulder as he leaned down to look in his eyes.

“It’s perfect. I’ll move my things here tomorrow and set up a sign or something to alert people.” Malvern smiled as Jared babbled. He didn’t quite understand what the magician was saying, but it warmed his heart that he was happy.

“…And people who don’t want to go to the hospital can come here. It’s secluded, so they won’t be found as easily.” He drifted off as he regressed into a memory. His face fell, and Malvern looked at him as he looked at the hut.

“Jar? What’s wrong?” Jared shook his head, forcing a smile as he gently pushed Malvern away. Pushing the memory to the back of his mind, he led Malvern into the hut.

“Nothing. I just remembered a thing that happened a few years back, before I moved in with you guys. A couple came in, the woman was really injured, and they had a kid. I just wonder where they are now.” Malvern nodded, face full of sympathy.

“Well, just hope they’re fine. Hey, look, the place still has a pump outside for water!” Malvern chuckled as he looked out the window and saw a water pump. Jared followed his gaze and sighed.

“Oh, Malvern. You do know that’s just for decoration, right? The place has running water.” Malvern turned around slowly as Jared turned a tap on and water poured from the spout.

“Well, now I know.”

The following morning, Jared packed his Wiccan items into boxes and piled them into Chase’s car. The doctor helped him with the last few boxes, taking a swig of whiskey before sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Jar, bud, you’re gonna have to direct me, alright? I know vaguely where you’ve told me the hut is, but the exact place? I don’t know.” Jared nodded, smiling at his brother as he buckled his seatbelt.

The two arrived at the hut shortly before lunch, and Chase helped Jared to bring boxes in. After all the boxes had been brought in, Chase and Jared drove to a nearby restaurant and got some takeaway for lunch.

They ate in the small front room of the hut. Chase looked around the place, chewing thoughtfully.

“Jar, do you think I’d be able to stay over sometimes? This place is very nice, and secluded, and I’d love to spend more time with my little bro.” Jared smiled, getting up to look into the bedroom.

“Yeah, of course. The bedroom is big enough to fit the two of us, and when the patients start coming in, I can just close the door to give them privacy.”

Chase grinned, happy he could join Jared in the small hut sometimes.

“Thanks, bud.” Jared moved to sit beside Chase, wrapping his arm around the doctor’s shoulders.

“I know you haven’t really wanted to stay at the house after Mayhem, and I know it takes more than three months to get over it, so I’d be happy to let you stay here if the house gets too much for you.”

The two brothers stayed in the hut for the rest of the day, reminiscing about their childhood. When the time came for dinner, Chase drove out to get pizza. The two then unpacked Jared’s boxes and set themselves up for the ride back home.

The following day Jared finished painting a sign for his clinic. Chase drove him back to the hut, and he put the sign up at the entrance to the road.

“Thanks, Chase. I think I can handle setting up from here. You’ve probably got appointments to meet.” Chase smiled, pulling his brother into a hug.

“I’ll come find you after the clinic closes. Maybe I’ll bring you some dinner.” Jared chuckled as he pulled away from the hug.

“Maybe something different to pizza? I don’t want to put on too much weight.” Chase laughed as he gave Jared a friendly push.

“Come on! Pizza’s great! I’ll see if Hen can make you some soup and go pick it up on my break, ok?” Jared nodded, waving as Chase climbed in his car and drove away.

“Alright, everything is in place. I even set up the bedroom with two beds for when Chase comes over. Now to wait for patients.” He sat on the couch just as a knock sounded on his door.

Opening it, he saw a woman, arm at her blood-stained waist, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Can you help me…?”

Jared helped her in, sitting her on the couch. Thank goodness I put plastic wrap on this. The woman leaned forward, wrapping both arms around her waist.

“What happened?” The woman looked at Jared, and he felt conscious, for the first time in ages, of the mask on his face. Taking a breath, he took the mask off and frowned at her look of surprise.

“Tell me what happened. How deep, and what weapon?” The woman shook her head, moving her mind back to the subject.

“Um, I don’t know how deep, but it was a pocket-knife. Please, tell me you can help.” Jared looked her in the eye.

“I promise, I can help you.” The woman sighed, as if relieved, then watched Jared pull out items to help her. As he lifted her blouse and wiped the blood, a lump appeared and disappeared under his hand. A kick.

“Sorry, are you…?” She nodded, tears in her eyes.

“Yes. You can guess who did this, right?” Jared looked at her stomach, surprised at the lack of presence of a child. He then set his face and cleaned the wound with more determination.

“I can’t believe people would do something like this. Why can’t people just leave life how it is? I promise, I can help both you and this child.” She smiled at him, wincing as he applied salve to her stomach.

“Alright, this will do. It will still hurt for a while, and if it itches, just ignore it. Also, wear a plastic bag around it when you have a shower or bath. The salve will do all the healing, but water will ruin it. It will scar, but scars fade.” The woman thanked him, then left the hut. Jared washed his hands and wiped down the couch, picking his mask back up.

Another knock made him drop the mask. Well, back in business, I guess. He put the mask away as he opened the door to let a couple in.

At eight that night Chase knocked on his door. Jared was helping a woman with arthritis, but stopped and opened the door for Chase.

“Sorry, ma’am, this is my brother Chase. He is a doctor, but he won’t interfere. Chase, I’ll be with you in a minute.” He smiled as Chase went to the kitchen and turned the stove on to reheat Henrik’s chicken soup.

Jared finished helping the woman, then helped her to the door.

“Come and see me next week. This needs to be a regular thing, so I’ll be expecting you. Have a nice night.” Closing the door, he made a beeline to the kitchen, looking into the pot.

“You actually got him to make it, huh?” He lifted the lid of the pot, reaching a spoon in to take a sip, but jumped back when Chase slapped him.

“Leave it! It’s been sitting in my clinic for six hours, let it warm up. Come on, sit with me and tell me about your day.” Jared nodded, face brightening.  He took the plastic off the couch and sat on the cushions.

“I had lots of patients today, it was really amazing! It felt like being back at my old place, helping so many people. There was a woman who was pregnant, and the partner had found out and tried to perform like, a C-section on her. With a pocket-knife.” Chase winced, a look of pure disgust on his face.

“That person shouldn’t have done that. I doubt he even used the proper tools.” Jared smiled at Chase. He had always looked up to his brother’s medical knowledge and had been more than willing to assist him in his studies. He knew just as much as Chase did.

 “What about you? How was your day?” Chase rolled his eyes, recalling the events of the day.

“The usual. Had a number of appointments. I did have one moment when I got a flashback.” Jared looked at Chase, eyes wide in sympathy.

“Tell me about it?” Chase took a deep breath, calming himself before plunging into the recap.

“Juxta had been torturing me with visions of every appointment I had missed or the people I had misdiagnosed for, I don’t know, two weeks? One of the people who came to me was our uncle. Juxta’s dad. Remember I had diagnosed him with a rare bone marrow disease, but it turned out he had lupus? He came to me in this vision, with his skin all falling apart and coughing up blood. I couldn’t save him. He was accusing me of killing him because I couldn’t diagnose it right.” Chase stopped as he began to cry.

“Hey, Chase, you didn’t know any better. He should have gone to a proper professional, you had just graduated medical school.” Chase nodded.

“I still misdiagnosed him. I gave him the wrong medicine, and it killed him.” Jared looked at him, waiting for the link to today’s shift.

“I had an appointment with a woman who was also suffering from lupus. She told me the other doctor had told her it was nothing. I got the flashback, and when I looked up, she had gone.”

“You didn’t ask where she went?” Chase shook his head, looking at his brother with sad and guilty eyes.

“Secretary told me she left in a hurry. I also had to go, the day was over.” Jared nodded, patting his brother’s back sympathetically.

“Anyway, I think the soup’s ready. Let’s eat.” Chase stood up, pulling some bowls out of the cupboard and started to pour soup into them. He and Jared then sat down and ate their dinner together.

That night, Jared slept in the bed beside Chase and watched over him as he tossed and turned. Chase woke up in a cold sweat just after Jared fell asleep.

“Jar! Jar, wake up!” Jared woke with a start at Chase’s hushed shout.

“What? What’s wrong? Another nightmare?” Chase nodded, reaching out to hold Jared’s hand.

“You. Melting as I tried to save you. It was another flashback, I remember it to the smallest detail. I couldn’t save you. You died right in front of my arms…” Jared squeezed Chase’s hand in an attempt to comfort him.

 Chase wiped his eyes tried to smile at the magician.

“I’m right here, Chase. Holding your hand, right here. I promise I won’t leave you alone. I’ll be guarding you overnight.” Chase smiled, sniffing, as he clasped Jared’s hand.

Jared watched as Chase fell asleep, still holding his hand. He smiled as Chase relaxed into a peaceful sleep, knowing his brother was right beside him.

“I’ll protect you.”

[fireflythecinnamonjollyrancher]

hello it is once again time for my end of the year wrap up. this should be... interesting

january

finally finally got to have a happy apartment experience!!!!! tried out tea drops which are dope. there was a fair amount of stress revolving around APO induction and the musical rehearsal, but we made it!!! partied hardy (the infamous tess in the washing machine incident) kelli was watching always sunny more often than not. i wore some arguably bad clothing but ya know. gays. we tried to take off my closet door (it did NOT work). the beginning of the goose saga! there was a sleet storm so kelli and i made some popcorn and watched mike birbiglia’s new special. darci, kelli and i went out to eat and then ended up in babcock playing air hockey before watching videos with kai who was on duty. PEP BAND???? some good memories formed there. dogs in the library! got bullied by my library boss to put gas in my car and i sent her a video of proof that i did it “daddy long legs” “stop. what?” “the musical” (i do love timothy) i actually practiced my instrument lol wild. WE (becky, celeste, timothy and i) WATCHED SPIRIT and got wildly drunk -- the origin of “[redacted] [redacted] who???” which is my favorite joke.

february

MORE PEP BAND im actually really glad i spent my last few college months dicking around with the band. one man drumline!!! kai made some good tiktoks in our apartment! miss hanging with them it was really fun. oh i hung out with sam and celeste watching movies “he was a boy, she was a dolphin, can i make it anymore [strangled dolphin noises]” OUR MICROWAVE HANDLE BROKE OFF while kelli was gone man that entire apartment was falling apart (hey dumbass grab from top) -- a list of things that were broken in our apartment: fridge light, front entry light, showerhead, phone. the birth of the beans insta!!!! got hit on when i was at taco bell with timothy by being accused of being trans (taco bell guy was not far off to be fair). oh the improv posters as compared to the posters i built for an organization fair. went out and got daRUNK at what appears to be wandas. really struggled with my period. cut hair with kelli n darci. MOZZ STICKS. “you still a lil bitch???” oh we did kpy pal-entines!!! where we ate good food and watched the princess bride!!! i received the plush goose. there was a possible bombing at the bank next door to where we rehearsed for band. aw i went on a tommy’s date with becky that was cute. they tried to STEAL the QUESO. disagreed with a curb and still have those scars. worked a horrible gig at the theatre. closing shifts at the library baby! middle school tours EW more library dogs! fish hooks song oh my god. drunk mash nights!!! i rewatched HAVEN and had lots of feelings. actually got drunk alone a lot which was Bad. however michael malloys birthday! watched choir concert at work lol. stats final whilst drunk!!!! becky got a piercing

march

here things go downhill rapidly. hit up the trains at least once. oh late library nights with timothy!!!! the best nights i miss hanging with him while at work. struggled with my car. went on a college sponsored adventure to a back alley farm. SCURVY FEARS. opening shifts that were lonely. oh celeste played plague and named it covid and won lol yikes. the infamous apartment cone. we stayed up long enough to see the sunrise on literally the last day in college I would ever have. that was good. I FOUND OUT KELLI HAD GLASSES im still pissed. came home indefinitely. went to st patty’s day at brookes with karrigan and that was SO much fun (this was before things seemed real) the best part of that was the irish pub owner who happened to have a son that went to my college. got my mom onto tik tok. took a gay lit class. can’t believe i took daily fckn walks around the pasture who was i. hosted virtual meetings for apo and played around with the closed captioning. that was fun. shaved my moms head lmaooo. worked on my capstone which im like super proud of? i wish i could have directed it but say law vee. 

april

BAGPIPE CORPS INTERNATIONAL. virtual band wreaked havoc on my animals mental health. my grandmother would always bug me while i was working which i understand now was misplaced love but it was so irritating at the time. we had library meetings once a week or so that was vital to mental health. hosted a really fun “panel” about queer identity for my queer lit class that was able to educate a lot of people. having a capstone class with am*lia was a nightmare. watched a cirque du soleil show for free and lost my mind. wrote a comedic monologue that i suffered through. suffered through papers and projects. worked on a project with celeste and kelli and we had SUCH a good time. i hosted several jackbox nights for both apo and kpy. that was SUCH an exhausting experience. also uno and drawful with the uno group (kelli would win 100% of the time). ranted about group projects lol i struggled. OH THE MOVE OUT DEBACLE i really went off the deep end. kelli’s virtual birthday!!!!

may

we had so many good jackbox nights. academic showcase and honors convocation happened wherein i was name bronco award winner and that really wrecked me too lol. we had a sunday crew hang out for library workers. clarinet game night too! i tried so hard to build community during covid and im not altogether sure i accomplished it but ya know whatever. watsky broke the record! made my “aced it” grad cap which was so FUNNY and still is tbh. becky taught me how to do makeup. took grad pictures at an abandoned farmhouse lol OH MY GOSH BEAUX ARTS AND APO SKIT i was so proud of that night and annette said it was the best one we’d ever had. wish i had done more but we did it boys. also got VERY drunk for it lol completely redid my room. bc it was NASTY. the way i write papers is so SO funny to me. had our last capstones class and then dressed in grad outfits for our last lit meeting . graduated and got all my stuff from college finally. went shopping with timothy, had el puerto with becky (i think?). oh the infamous miller moths UGH shit is nasty. THE FORMING OF BANJO SHRIMPS occurred on may 24 2020 and that was the absolute best thing to come out of this year. started working at my dads agency which was the absolute worst thing to come out of this year. attended my first protest in cos which was good and healthy. started protesting regularly after that. my most poignant memory was laying down in front of city hall and chanting “i cant breathe” for 8 minutes. 

june

it snowed???? i was angry. part of my job was reading my dad’s email and there was some WACKO shit in there. went to brookes for pride as a surprise which was cute n fun. had a horrible interaction with a client. the appearance of the bigfoot statue!!!! we had a vanilla beans hang out. there was a WILD storm that literally made my hide out in the office. 

july

went on a bonkers rant about america bc fuck this place. helped mom out with homework. we had several clients get divorces which was messy. went to a Bad party where i was angry the whole time. went to the top of pikes peak with my grandma and saw many much bigfoot things. we got a GOOSE he hated us so much. oh there was a night where darci and kai came over and we hijacked kelli’s spotify and communicated that way it was SO funny. took a video of the dichotomy of man bc of my long ass leg hair and short ass head hair. shaved my head to the BONE and tried dragon fruit. GOT NIKO ON JULY 24 my sweet sweet boy lil bat looking motherfucker. got denied for life insurance for mental health reasons. 

august

went back to hc for a birthday “party” and to see the band. did a lot in that weekend (stayed with timothy’s family, helped becky move, met kelli’s look-alike, saw timothy and karlie’s new house!!! had lunch with kellis family which is closest to “meet my parents” i think i’ll ever get lmao). got my prof headshots and hate every single one of them but more for self esteem reasons lol. neighbors got goats and my mom lost her marbles. got trapped in traffic on the way back from hc. niko had crackhead energy. oooooooh documented gender crisis. ma got more chickens. went to a birthday party for a high school friend and was just... so out of my element. its weird. took off my grandma’s bathroom door bc she had knee surgery. started a full time job as my grandmother’s caretaker (love working for the family business lol).

september

went to breckenridge with a friend!!!!!! spicy times lol. cleaned the cupboard. had a birf. turned 22. cas finished her drugs!!!! and felt much better. we did a charcuterie board for my birthday which was very fun. Got a mixer set!!! went to hc for homecoming and graduated!!!!! surprised celeste and hannah with a celebration party for them (it was a lot of fun). came up with my BEST joke (summa cum laude). got called tf out for my gender crisis via tarot. got the goose game!!!! played the goose game!!!!

october

applied to chicago center!!!! will now be working there for a year!!!! this was the first documentation of banjo shrimp nights. surprised my dad for boss day by working with the team to fill his office with balloons. house sat for dad’s friends. started taking showers in the dark. went to celestes and made PASTA wow got very drunk and while she slept i just explored a strangers house. voted!!!!! wow. finally (finally) started to accept that i was maybe agender. had a snow day but i couldn’t work so that was fun. had halloween with banjo shrimps where i dressed up as david rose. that was SUCH a good night. participated in ace week!!! then, dressed as radar for actual halloween and had monumental. worked a volunteer haunted house and like... actually did pretty good?? felt like a real adult!!!!

november

so many things happened in november. i finished miraculous ladybug on netflix. had another bad interaction with a client bc the customer is always wrong. shaved my head. PRESENTATION NIGHT to distract from the election lmao what a good time. had so many emotions about the election. then biden won and we lost our damn minds -- video called with celeste and becky to celebrate (with the reminder that we know that this doesn’t solve everything but it was such a huge sigh of relief). started watching the last kids on earth. made more PASTA and soup! got my GHOSTY TATTOO. kahoot night with the banjo shrimps lol. watched the supernatural finale with kelli (what good memories) rewatched 3below good shit. got the chicago job so i quit being an insurance person!!!! brooke came for thanksgiving!!!

december

i dont wanna talk about it but i finally started watching unus annus (theres an archive its not the same but it provided me wild amounts of serotonin). “call that invisible split dye”. crimmus. had a video call with people from high school i rarely if ever see. this entire month has been a fuckin blur my guys but i’m so excited for what’s next. in two days i will be in an apartment in chicago. i will be reunited with my best friend in a little under two weeks. i cannot emphasize enough how excited i am for this next chapter. so yeah. that was my year. im sure there was more memories but that’s what the sideblog is for lol

[jackfollmanwriter-blog]

Tennessee

Dad decided to drink himself to death. See you at the funeral.

I recognized the juvenile handwriting of my younger brother Billy immediately. The note was scrawled on the letterhead of his plumbing company which had gone under just a few weeks before.

I crumpled up the note and tossed it into the pile of trash in the kitchen sink.

"Levi?" My dad's voice croaked like a bullfrog from the living room.

"Yeah," I stopped myself as soon as I walked into the living room, the sight of my dad too jarring to continue the sentence I started.

My dad already looked like an embalmed corpse. He looked like a photo of a guy of a guy who fell into an underground bees nest in Africa I saw on the Internet once. He looked like the Michelin man. Basically, he looked like hot shit baking on the sidewalk of some hot city sidewalk.

I recognized my dad's lucky bottle of Potter's Crown whiskey resting next to his bed right away, about a finger's width of caramel liquid left in the bottom of the crimped glass. It was 1:47 p.m.

"Jesus Dad."

"Ah leave him out of it."

"Is this for real?"

I kicked over his bottle of Potter Crown's, the last precious contents spilled out onto the stained carpet.

"What the hell Travelin Man?"

My dad took up calling me Travelin Man when I was in my 20s because I actually left our little one-road Tennessee town and he always loved the guitar solo in the Allman Brothers song.

"Oh don't act like you don't have five more bottles in the cupboard."

"I do but it doesn't mean you can disrespect the bottle."

One of my dads MANY quirks was he had a lucky drinking bottle. He had been drinking out of the same handle of Potter's Crown since the late-70s. He would just refill it whenever he got a fresh bottle from the store. It had something to do with a friend from Vietnam named Iverson. He never seemed to be too generous with the exact details and I never cared enough to ask for the full explanation. At least we could compromise on one thing.

The county made the grave mistake of employing my dad long enough as a janitor to where he could retire at the earliest date possible and combine his pension there with his military pension so he could drink full-time. He had been doing this for the past five years and seemed to get worse every time I saw him. I finally couldn't take it anymore when I came to see him a little less than a year ago and saw he had moved his bed into the living room so he could lie down closer to the liquor cabinet and the TV.

That sad, pathetic sight led me to decide to no longer go see him. I was just going to let him fade away without me in the audience until I received a call from him in the middle of the night a few days ago where he couldn't make out a single word, just sobs. I booked the first flight to Memphis I could find for a reasonable rate so I could make the trek out to the flats of northwest Tennessee and see him at least one more time, even if it hurt like hell.

Hurt it did. I had seen my dad low, but never this low. He looked so wrecked that it wouldn't be a surprise if he died at any minute.

I took a seat in a sad dusty plastic visitor chair next to his bed like my childhood living room was a hospital room. I pushed away the rotting bones of a fried chicken Hungry Man on the TV tray and took out a faded Polaroid of us from the breast pocket of my shirt. I set the picture down on the thin wool blanket on top of his naked chest, felt him shiver.

"I found this in a box of stuff when I moved out of my house."

My father looked down at the photo without moving his head, just his eyes. It was of us on a frothy beach in South Carolina, standing next to each other in the bright, summer sun, my dad's arm lightly draped over my shoulder. It was literally the only picture I could ever remember of us together. Hell, it was the only picture of my father I could ever remember seeing expect for the military one from when he was 18, about to be shipped off to Vietnam. It rested above the TV, proudly framed.

I could see the life behind my dad's eyes at least shrug.

"That's pretty neat. Thanks. Your brother just brings bills to pay. Mine and his. I appreciate someone not bringing me fuckin heartaches for once."

"You got it."

"I just got two requests of you though."

"Yeah."

"One. You don't judge anything I do."

"I already conceded that before I got on the plane in Denver."

"Two. ESPN Classic is playing the nineteen-ninety-nine Fiesta Bowl tonight. I want you to sit right here with me, watch it and drink whiskey."

"That sounds about damn perfect to me."

My dad cracked the first smile of my visit.

"Well, it's a date then. Go mix up yourself a drink. I got five bottles over in the liquor cabinet."

My dad gave me a sly dog wink.

*

We watched the game. Tennessee beat Florida State 23-16 the way they always will for eternity and hoisted the national championship trophy. I saw what I thought was the glint of a tear in my dad's eye towards the final frames of the classic game. I thought reliving the glory of his beloved Volunteers brought on the moisture. I was wrong.

"This game always reminds me of Chase," my dad slurred.

His statement made me go numb.

"It was about only two months after everything. I remember one of the reasons we were so glad they won was because we felt it might lift everyone's spirits."

"It's funny how much a stupid game can actually do."

"It didn't."

"I know. It shouldn't have."

"It's darker than you think."

I didn't really know how my cousin Chase committing suicide at age 13 could be darker, but I could tell my dad had more to say.

"There's a lot more about that, we didn't let on back then."

"Really?"

My dad spat chew across the room, offended by the skepticism detected in my tone. My dad was not a liar, but he was three sheets to the wind.

"Yeah, really, Ramblin Man."

"If you're talking about how they found Chase, I found out. You and grandma never told me, but kids at school found out. I heard about it. Kid cut himself and jumped into a fucking pig pen. That shit gets out there in a small town."

"That aint the half of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why would a boy choose to kill themselves by getting torn up my a bunch of hogs when he had his own fuckin shotgun underneath his bed?"

My dad made a very, very good point I never thought of.

"I never really thought about it."

"Hard to believe he killed himself if you do."

"Did you ever ask mom if she thought that at all? If they looked into it?" I asked.

"Did you?"

My mom and Chase was a tricky situation.

My parents never married. They just had a casual off-and-on thing for a few years which produced me and my younger brother Doug. I can't really blame either of them for not wanting to be with the other. My dad was a raging alcoholic with a bad case of PTSD before they really even knew what PTSD was and my mother was a flighty part-time hippy, full-time drug addict who would take off for weeks at a time without warning. Since my dad at least had the full-time job, Doug and I lived with him and my mom lived two towns over with an ever-changing parade of fiances.

My mom hit it big when the richest of those fiances finally married her and gave her life a very brief period of stability. It was during that period when her sister passed away at a young age and left behind an infant son, Chase, who my mother took in.

My mom always seemed to be thoroughly ashamed by the boring, trashy life she lived with my dad so Doug and I were rarely invited to family events on her side. Because of this, we only saw Chase a few times a year at Thanksgiving, Christmas, the occasional wedding or funeral. He was a sweet kid who I definitely saw my mom's side of the family's genes in but was a little too young for me to really connect with.

Honestly, I didn't think about Chase too much before he died. It wasn't until the news of him committing suicide rippled through the community that he took up much space in my brain.

I don't really know if I was surprised or not that Chase killed himself at the time. I didn't know him well enough to know if he was depressed or not. You could say I loved him in the good Christian way a cousin loves a cousin they see a few times a year, but that was about it. Regardless though, it was pretty shocking that someone as young as 13 did it and in a place like northwest Tennessee. It was the only thing anyone in town really talked about for about a month.

I only occasionally thought about Chase when people talked about suicide or if a celebrity of note committing suicide was in the news. Until my dad mentioned his suspicions about Chase, I hadn't thought about him deeply since back around funeral.

"Maybe you should ask your mom about it?" My dad suggested.

I laughed.

My mom divorced her rich husband shortly after Chase died, took half his money and fled to Florida where she was probably sucking some new man, or men, dry. I tried to stay in touch with her, but it hurt more to try and remain in contact and have her act like I was some old co-worker or childhood friend she only barely cared about, so I just shut it down. We hadn't talked in more than 15 years and I hadn't looked for her in all that time. She could have been dead for all I knew.

I could tell my dad was hanging onto his last threads of waking energy for the night and I wasn't far from sleep myself.

"Is the couch okay for sleeping?" I asked.

My dad flapped his lips a few times, but no words came out.

I sunk into the broken wooden bones of the frame of the ancient couch.

"Hey ramblin man," my dad whispered from across the room.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should ask Tina McIntosh about the Chase thing? She probably knows more about that kid than your mom."

"That's actually a good idea."

Tina McIntosh was the gossip queen every single small town has. She worked the front desk at the high school part-time, the front desk at the only doctor's office in town part-time and volunteered for just about everything just so she could be in the midst of everyone's business at all times.

Reaching out to Tina while I was in town for the next couple of weeks was a great idea. One negative thought did flash through my mind though. Talking to Tina probably meant I would also have to talk to Ronnie McIntosh.

Ronnie was one of those kids you were forced to kind of be friends with when you were young because your parents knew his parents. You knew he was off, but who else were you going to pass the time with when you parents ditched you at the grown up party?

Something was seriously wrong with Ronnie, but it was the early-90s in rural Tennessee and people weren't really on top of that stuff yet, kids weren't shooting up schools yet, so everyone just let it slide. The first time I remember I remember being concerned with Ronnie was when he was eating sand out of the sandbox in his backyard when we were playing. His response to me about why he was doing it was that it tasted like "salt."

The second incident which made me slowly recoil away from Ronnie's presence as much as possible came in the early days of puberty, probably 11 or 12. My dad set up a play date over at Ronnie's place while he went "fishing" and Ronnie could not have been more eager to show me some pictures as soon as I walked through the door of his little single-wide down by the bend of the river.

"Come see. Come see," Ronnie announced once he led me into his little bedroom.

The pictures Ronnie couldn't wait to show me were Polaroids of his 14-year-old step-sister in various states of undress in her bedroom which shared a wall with Ronnie's room. Ronnie was even more excited to show me the little peephole he drilled in the back of his closet which peered into his step-sister's room.

This whole thing would have been beyond creepy even if his step-sister had been a complete stranger, but the morbid facts were... 1. She was his step-sister 2. He spent the first 10 years of his life believing she was his real sister, only recently finding out she was not his sister by blood a couple of years back after his step-dad split.

I was tempted to tell Ronnie's mom or step-sister about the pictures, but didn't want to set the kid off. I had seen what he did to the frogs and snakes we would catch by the river and in no way wanted to get myself in that path of that rage. No thanks.

Ronnie finally separated himself from the rest of the normal, peaceful congregation of our class about halfway through high school when he started voluntarily not showing up to school anymore. Everyone in town was pretty shocked that a woman who worked at the high school let her own son drop out, but the kids who knew him well appreciated her letting him give us non-scary kids some distance.

Rumors swirled all around town about exactly what Ronnie did after that. Some said he joined a motorcycle gang in California. His mom always said he was getting ready to join Navy, but I knew the truth because I still had to go over to his house about once a year for some awful get together around Christmas. I would see Ronnie in his old bedroom – still surrounded by an army of stuffed animals, still taking pictures of his step-sister changing and still having the sticky remnants of green Jolly Ranchers stuck to the skin around his lips.

I wondered if Ronnie was still back in that little wood-paneled room, masturbating to pictures of his step-sister and playing endless rounds of Donkey Kong Country when I knocked on the door of his mom's trailer and waited for an answer.

"Just a minute. Just a minute," the cheerful drawel of Tina McIntosh answered back on the other side of the door.

The cherubic face of Tina popped into the doorway once the trailer door opened up. She beamed back at me through little round glasses and a plume of red hair.

"Levi Green?" Tina couldn't have sounded more excited. "What are you doing here?"

I tried to explain myself, but Tina interrupted her own question.

"Come in. Come in."

I almost laughed when the smell of fresh-baked scones and fresh-roasted coffee greeted my nostrils. Tina was like something out of the fictional Leave It To Beaver universe plunked down in the dark country fields of rural Tennessee. I took a seat at the little wooden breakfast table and was presented with a blueberry scone and heavily-creamed coffee before I could even get my first word out.

"It's so nice of you to come by and say hi. Sorry Ronnie isn't around. He's down at the church."

I finished my first sip of searing-hot coffee.

"That's okay. I was actually looking to talk with you."

"With me? You gotta be kidding me. Levi Green came all the way from the big city of Denver, to talk to me?"

I gave a courtesy laugh.

"I'm visiting my dad and I thought of a few things I wanted to ask you, if you don't mind."

"Well of course."

"You remember what happened with my cousin, Chase Lucas?"

Tina paused chewing the scone she had previously been gulping down like a pelican.

"Of course. It was probably the worst thing that ever happened around here."

"I was talking about it with my dad last night and we were wondering about something and we thought you might be a good person to talk to, being so connected to the community and all."

"You can go ahead and say because I'm the town gossip."

I let out a genuine laugh.

"Well okay. We were thinking about what happened to Chase all those years ago and were wondering... did you ever hear anybody talking about that maybe Chase didn't really kill himself?"

Tina paused her chewing again. Took in a deep breath.

"I heard that. I didn't think much about it at the time, but I did hear it. It's something you have to really think about though. That little boy decided to kill himself and do it by jumping in with a bunch of hogs?"

"That's what me and my dad were talking about."

"I think the thing was that no one really had anything else that made sense either. You can't make a conviction without any kind of evidence. I tried to talk to Ronnie about it, but he didn't seem to know anything either."

"Why Ronnie?"

I had never once heard anything about Ronnie and Chase even knowing each other.

"Ronnie knew Chase pretty well through Crave. He talked about him quite a bit before he died. He was pretty broken up when it all happened."

"Crave?"

"It's a network of churches around here. They're the ones which aimed at having kids get involved in church. They had the church which looked like Noah's ark up in Martin all the kids loved. Ronnie still goes to them. He's actually at a meet-up thing in Union City right now."

The idea of Crave Churches vaguely came back to me. I remembered them recruiting a lot of kids in my middle school. They tried desperately to make church cool in a way to attract teenagers to hopefully someday replace their aging congregation. Suddenly even kids who were smoking behind the gym at lunch and stealing their parents' peppermint schnapps were going to youth group. Once I thought about it, Ronnie was exactly one of those kids.

"Do you know when Ronnie gets back?"

*

I knew Ronnie was going to suggest going to The Locker Room before he even said it. The sad, local bar where the locals who had graduated within the past 15 years who stayed in town frequented to try and relive their younger days, it was like something out of that Springsteen song "Glory Days."

I heard my name hollered drunkingly before I even fully walked through the door. Shit. I had already been spotted.

It took my eyes a second to focus after walking in out of the bright light of the midday sun, but once they focused in I saw my fan was the very person I had come to meet – Ronnie. He bounced up and down on a bar stool like a baby in high chair just before dinner is served.

"Leeeeeeeeeeevi Green," Ronnie announced name like the old Chicago Bulls PA announcer when I neared.

I kept my face down, took a seat next to Ronnie at the bar and avoided eye contact with the female bartender I knew I went to high school with. She was the only person in the bar other than Ronnie and based on the distance she gave from where Ronnie was seated, she was about as thrilled about reuniting with him as I was.

"L-Dog. I got you a Fireball and Coke," Ronnie announced and stuck out a handshake greeting.

I accepted Ronnie's handshake and gave him a firm up and down, never acknowledging the bizarre drink he ordered for me.

Ronnie had not aged well. All of the features which made him unattractive as a youth had worsened – his underbite was even more pronounced, the cystic acne on his cheeks had somehow increased, even though we were in our 30s, his hair was still pizza greasy, but was now an awkward shoulder length. His teeth seemed to crook and curl all around his mouth like the trunk of a tree when he beamed a smile at me.

"I'm surprised you wanted to meet up. I never see you when you're in town anymore," Ronnie started in.

"I know. I barely see anyone when I'm around, usually in for like a day or two. Don't even really see my brother."

"Well fuckin a, man. I appreciate it. Gets pretty boring around here. I'm sure it's not as cool as like Denver or something. Go fuckin Broncos. Better than the fuggin Titans. Can't believe they picked that overrated piece of shit from Oregon at QB."

I gave Ronnie the last courtesy smile I reserved for him. Flashed it at him after he downed the last of what appeared to be his Fireball and Coke.

"I wanted to meet up with you to ask you a little bit about my cousin, Chase Lucas, the one who died back in the nineties."

A piece of ice flew out of Ronnie's glass and slid down his cheek. He coughed and gagged. His eyes darted around the dim bar.

"I haven't heard that name in like twenty years," Ronnie answered with a mouthful of ice.

"I know. I didn't even know you knew him, but I ran into your mom and she said you guys were friendly back in Crave."

Ronnie nodded furiously. Jingled his icy glass at the bartender. Let out a deep breath.

"It's crazy shit man. Glad I've already taken down a good chunk of these F and Cs. I don't know what happened to Chase, man."

"What do you mean, crazy shit but you don’t know what happened?"

Ronnie received another drink and got to work on it right away.

"It's some heavy shit man. Not easy to talk about."

I moved my face closer to Ronnie's. Fresh tears had formed in his eyes.

"I don't really want to talk about here. It's not a good idea," Ronnie said and shot another paranoid look around the bar.

"We're the only people here. Let's just talk about it."

"I don't know man, heavy."

Ronnie shook his head again. The gears in my head turned. I reached over and finally grabbed hold of the drink Ronnie ordered for me. Took a hearty swig. It was even worse than I thought it would be.

"Cinnamon, whiskey and Coke. I'll hand it to you for probably being the first person in the world who would think that would be a good fucking combination."

We both laughed.

"There's a lot of shit you don't know man. Heavy shit," Ronnie said once he finished laughing. "I was pretty good friends with Chase when he died. I don't think many people know that."

"From Crave, you two hung out together a lot at Crave Churches?"

"We did. He was a cool kid. Little younger than me, but we were tight. Bonded over the fucked up shit that happened."

"What fucked up shit?"

"I've never really told anyone about this shit. No one asks me shit around here, but we go way back, man. I got molested at Crave. So did Chase. Shit. Molested aint even the right word. That's not fair. We got fuckin raped, man."

The silent space in between two Bob Seger songs on the jukebox picked a really bad time to pop up. Ronnie and eye sat there silent, staring into our "F & Cs."

"Started when I was about eight. Chase too."

"Who did it?"

"One of the priests. He's long dead though. Died not too long after Chase. Hopefully the fucker didn't find him in heaven, but that priest wasn't the only one. Ones would come in from other towns and stuff. We didn't really know what was going on."

"You still go to that place? Your mom said that's where you were today when I went over."

"I just say I'm going there because she likes that. Really I just go here or to get fucked up with some guys I know up in Union City. Guys who got raped too," Ronnie laughed. "I go to Crave from time to time just to make sure those guys don't think I'm going to rat them out. Wouldn't want to know what they would do if they thought I might do that."

"You think all that stuff had something to do with Chase dying though?"

"Could, but I don't know. All the shit was so dark, I wouldn't be shocked if Chase just decided it was too much. I'll tell you what though. Chase was into some deeper shit than me. He was always on those chat rooms at the church computer labs."

"What do you mean?"

"The churches were doing everything they could to get teenagers to hang out there. They all had these computer labs with Internet, back when that was a really big deal. Chase practically lived in those labs. I went on there a few times with him, but it was scary as shit. He would be in these romance chat rooms talking with married guys up in Chicago, Detroit and shit. He was in deep. I would be very curious to see what exactly what going on with him and that stuff back in the day. The answers might be all there."

"They still have these computer labs."

Ronnie finished his drink and let out a laugh.

"Yeah. Still do. Still have those shitty ass 90s computers too."

*

It was the first time in my life I was glad I was an IT guy. A fire burned inside myself when I drove back to my dad's house in the night after dropping Ronnie off on his mom's doorstep with him drunkenly mumbling something about how we were "like brothers" over and over again.

My IT coincidence was followed up by another stroke of luck when I discovered in my luggage that I had packed one of my Frontier IT red polo shirts from work. The change in direction of my trip my dad's revelations and Ronnie's confessions created meant the stale polo would be the perfect disguise for what I was going to try and pull off.

*

"Why the hell are you wearing that dumbass shirt?" My dad growled at me from his bed when I walked through the living room with two fresh cups of creamy coffee.

"Sounding pretty judgmental for a guy sleeping on a bed in a living room, dad," I shot back and set down his coffee next to a short glass of whiskey. "Besides, this shirt signifies I know how to fix computers and that's a pretty non-dumbass skill. You wouldn't call a guy who can repair a driveshaft a dumbass, would you?

"Would if he wore a shirt like that. Where you going anyway?"

"Looking into this stuff about Chase. You ever heard of Crave Churches?"

"Is that a gay bar?"

I shook my head and walked out the door.

*

I must have driven or walked by the Crave Church in my hometown a million times and not even thought about what it was. There are so many churches in rural Tennessee I have heard at least three individuals in my lifetime say you can't "swing a dead cat in rural Tennessee without hitting a church." Disgusting analogy, but accurate.

Tucked behind Main Street on a little poorly-paved road next to the north woods of town, Crave Church was a white, triangle-shaped building with a rotting wooden statue of Jesus stuck out in the front yard next to a reader board which housed just three black letters rearranged to spell out VAG. I let out a little chuckle when I walked up the front steps of the building, my eyes stuck on the brilliance of some town kid.

The front door of the church was open when I reached the top of the little cement slope of a walkway which led up from the sidewalk.

"Howdy," I announced myself in my cheeriest tone when I walked into the cramped congregation room. "Hello?"

I was answered by the retching sound of someone vomiting.

"Hold on one second."

I followed the pained voice down a dark hallway to my left and the open door of an office. I continued until I was in a little doorway looking down at a man in a wheelchair. He quickly looked up at me

"Holy hell," the man pushed the about 20-30 thin red hairs which lived on his scalp back and looked up at me. "Welcome to Crave."

The sad scene I had just stumbled upon made me have to rethink my plan on the spot. I was going to con a guy who looked like a broke ass Larry Flynt who was working and barfing on a hot Wednesday morning?

"Uh, ah. I'm with Frontier IT. I was dispatched to update some of the computers in your computer lab with new software," I finished my statement with the wave of a jump drive.

"That sounds about right. I don't think anyone has tinkered with those things since Clinton was in office. Bill, not Hillary," the man in the wheelchair answered back, punctuated with a chuckle and stuck out a hammy paw for a shake which I accepted. "Bill Crunkle, but my friends call me Crumpled Twenty. Get it? Like crumpled twenty dollar bill? I know it's not that great."

Bill wheeled his chair up to me.

"You know where the computer labs are?"

"It's been a while."

Bill wheeled past me. I followed him out into the hallway.

"I can't take you all the way, but I'll be able to point them out to you," Bill explained and slapped the sides of his chair.

Bill led me out a backdoor and into an overgrown backyard of pale grass decorated with the netless frame of a soccer goal and a netless and backboardless basketball hoop.

Bill pointed out to a tight little trail at the back of the yard which snaked out into the thick, dark woods. I could see the outline of a couple little buildings tucked between the trees out there.

"Two buildings out there are the labs. Don't think anyone is out there yet," Bill said and dug into a fanny pack until he produced a ring of keys. "I'd walk you out there myself, but for obvious reasons that's a no go, so just unlock it yourself, bring the keys back when you're done."

Bill handed me the keys.

The walk to the computer labs reminded me of something out of a dream. Two brick buildings with metal slanted roofs, the little domiciles looked wholly out of place in the old growth Tennessee woods, especially knowing they rested behind a church which looked on the verge of collapse. Honestly, the labs looked like the newest buildings in the entire sleepy, little hometown other than the Walgreen's.

I wasn't sure if I just felt a cold wind or had spooked myself when I walked up to the front door of one of the labs and unlocked it. I opened up the door and turned around, locked eyes with Bill for a moment before he wheeled himself back into the church.

A flick of a light switch illuminated a tight little room lined with cheap desks topped with 90s-era desktop computers. I approached the nearest desktop, took a seat in an office chair I hoped wasn't full of spiders and fired the thing up. Laughed to myself when I saw the ancient Windows 98 loading screen flash in front of me.

I wasted no time once the computer loaded. For all I knew, Crumpled Twenty Dollar Bill was back in the church calling up headquarters and asking if I was legit.

Thankfully an awful client who spied on the instant messaging of their employees had educated me on my best shot of finding out anything of worth I might be able to track down about Chase on the computers. If you used AOL to chat, which since Chase was in the late-90s, I'm sure he was, all the administrator of the computer or network had to do was check a box which automatically saved all chats in a log file. If Crave Church had, and no one had deleted them, the computers Chase chatted on would have his chat logs saved on them.

Success came quicker than I thought. The admin had been storing chat messages in a conveniently year-labeled folder going all the way back to 1998. I jammed in my jump drive and collected the 1998 and 1999 folders. The three other computers in the room would prove equally fruitful.

I couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough once I loaded up my jump drives. It was now a race to get back to my dad's house to start combing through the old logs to see if I could find anything fruitful. I walked around the side of the church, hoping to avoid Bill.

I was just about to the sidewalk when I heard Bill's voice sound out from the front of the church.

"Hey buddy."

I turned and saw Bill on the perch of the front doorway.

"You leave the keys out back there?"

Damn't. The keys.

"Oh yeah," I answered and ran up the stairs until I reunited with Bill. Handed him the keys.

"Thanks."

I started back down the walkway to the street, but Bill's voice stopped me.

"I thought we used WestTenn for our IT."

I turned around again. Saw Bill scowling at me.

"Uh, yeah, you do, but they don't handle software. They contracted us out."

I scurried away as soon as I finished, got in my rental car and drove away.

*

I thought my dad was dead when I got home.

I came into the living room triumphant, the jump drives burning holes in my pants only to lose every ounce of excitement in my body when I found my dad out cold on his bed in the middle of the day.

"Oh my God."

I dropped down to the bed, put my finger right on my dad's pulse and put my ear to his chest. His heart was beating. He was breathing. He was laughing.

"Fuck. Dad. That's not funny."

I recoiled from his withered little body, truly angered, spit all over the room while he laughed his bony ass off.

"That's not fuckin funny."

My dad finally slowed down his laughter. He glared at me when I set up a laptop on the couch, pushed in the first jump drive.

"You lookin up porn?" My dad quipped from the bed.

I ignored him.

I was locked into my computer. The first 1998 folder I pulled up was less cluttered with files than I thought it would be.

The first few conversations I found didn't help. They seemed to be two church kids talking about the movie The Lost World with one complaining that his mom wouldn't let him see the movie because she insisted dinosaurs never existed.

It took a while, but I was able to pull up one of the chat conversations I was looking for.

June 10, 1998 – Private Chat

ChaseMANhattan: I can't believe we're sitting right next to each other, but writing to each other on the computer.

Ronniebobonnie: Pretty crazy but awesome. We can't talk about this stuff around here though.

ChaseMANhattan: True, true. Did it happen again last night?

Ronniebobonnie: What do you think?

ChaseMANhattan: When doesn't it happen?

Ronniebobonnie: He keeps telling me I will like it eventually. Like you do.

ChaseMANhattan: Please...

Ronniebobonnie: Shit. Someone is coming.

June 12, 1998 – Midwest Romance Chat Room Private Chat

LareBear: Hey

ChaseMANhattan: a/s/l.

LareBear: 49/m/Chicago

ChaseMANhattan: Hey. Cool. What's up?

LareBear: a/s/l

ChaseMANhattan: 12/m/Middle of nowhere in Tennessee

LareBear: Cool.

ChaseMANhattan: Is it?

LareBear: I like Tennessee. My brother lives in Nashville. It's not bad. Beautiful.

ChaseMANhattan: Where I live is NOT Nashville.

LareBear: Got it. So are you looking for romance?

June 14, 1998 – Private Chat

Ronniebobonnie: Who's the guy you were telling me about last night? Your friend.

ChaseMANhattan: Larry. He's older. From Chicago.

Ronniebobonnie: That's pretty cool. He gonna take you out of this little shithole?

ChaseMANhattan: It's not like that. I've talked to older guys before. It's not like we are ever going to meet up. We just like to talk and stuff. They get me. People around here don't get me. I can talk about stuff I actually care about. Not just like baseball and church.

Ronniebobonnie: I get you man.

ChaseMANhattan: You do, but it's different. Don't worry about it though.

Ronniebobonnie: I won't until I will.

That was the last of any conversations involving what I was sure was Chase on the first jump drive.

Jump drive number two dove into valuable conversations rather quickly.

June 17, 1998 - Midwest Romance Chat Room – Private Chat

LareBear: Hey Chase.

ChaseMANhattan: Hey. How's it going up there?

LareBear: It's good. Thinking about you a lot lately.

ChaseMANhattan: Really? WHY?

LareBear: I don't know. You just seem cool.

ChaseMANhattan: Well I'm not going to argue with that.

LareBear: I know. It's weird. Any chance you can get me that picture you told me about?

ChaseMANhattan: Can't. The only scanner I have is here at the church and there's no way I'm using that.

LareBear: Darn.

ChaseMANhattan: I know. I've tried to tell my mom to get a computer and Internet, but she doesn't even know what the Internet is. She's scared of Y2K though. Thinks it's going to be like The Terminator.

LareBear: That's crazy. You are so cool though.

ChaseMANhattan: Thanks.

LareBear: Why don't you like your church?

ChaseMANhattan: Lotta reasons. Don't really want to talk about it.

LareBear: Want to talk about meeting up?

ChaseMANhattan: Yeah, but some other time. I'm not ready yet.

The rest of the conversations with Chase on the second jump drive were back and forths with LareBear which didn't really contain too much information other than more occasional mentions of Larry and Chase meeting up where Chase never bit.

The third jump drive was a complete failure. Sank my heart. I wondered if I was going to have to go back  to Denver in a week with just a few random conversations between Chase and some anonymous guy about mostly harmless stuff.

The last drive would not let me down.

October 3, 1998 – Private Chat

Ronniebobonnie: You think he is actually coming this time? Didn't he not show up last time?

ChaseMANhattan: He's coming. I've been talking to him on the phone a lot now. He calls me when my mom isn't home. If she is home then he pretends to be a telemarketer.

Ronniebobonnie: Where are you meeting?

ChaseMANhattan: That motel at the edge of town. I'm riding my bike over there tomorrow after school.

Ronniebobonnie: That's crazy. Good luck.

ChaseMANhattan: Thanks.

This was the only chat log on the last drive which featured Chase, but it gave me a huge revelation. Chase "committed  suicide on October 4, 1998. So the day he supposedly killed himself was the same exact day he was supposed to meet up with Larry.

But was this enough? Was it enough to admit to the police I stole the info off of church computers from a church at least some people in the department probably attended each Sunday?

I had been so wrapped up in my investigation I hadn't realized night had fallen. It was near midnight and the only light in the room came from the screen of my laptop and my dad's little TV screen which was airing the late SportsCenter.

I looked over to my dad in his bed. His eyes were closed and the blanket covering his chest was moving up and down. He muttered something in his sleep I couldn't make out.

I got up off the couch and came to his side. Maybe he was offering up some telepathic clue about the case? I listened closely.

"Saban. Saban. Alabama. Fuck you Saban."

My dad was having a nightmare about Alabama football. That may have been even scarier than Chase's situation. I gave him a soft pat on the top of his nearly-bald head.

I took my cell phone out of my pocket and called the one person who I thought might be able to help me at this point.

*

"Thanks for meeting me here," Ronnie said with a smile which was way too wide for someone who was meeting about another person likely being murdered to have.

We were back at The Locker Room. It was the only place Ronnie would meet me. He was already there and already drunk.

"No problem. I pulled all the chat logs from those computers. How come you didn't tell me about Larry?" I asked Ronnie while he sucked down a drink.

"I told you about the weird, older guys. I just don't remember their names. It was almost twenty years ago."

"But you chatted with Chase the day before he ended up dead about meeting up with Larry. How do you not remember that? How did you not mention that to anybody back then?"

Ronnie finished his drink, stared into the frothy ice.

"Why?" I pushed again.

"You think I wanted to open up that box? There's no way then, or now, I do that and it doesn't end up with everyone knowing what happened to me. Thinking I'm gay."

"But Ronnie, I have the transcripts. There's enough there. There's Chase's screenname talking about meeting up with that Larry guy that day."

"You just have the Chase Manhattan screenname?"

"Yeah, I guess, why?"

"Because that's not the only screenname Chase used."

"What? I pulled every transcript from every one of those computers."

"I'm sure you did, but Chase had another screenname, like a clean one. He only used the Chase Manhattan one for conversations he didn't want the church to see. The church picked out your real screenname with you and that was the only one you were supposed to use."

"What was his real screenname?"

"Something like young saint or disciple or something super creepy in retrospect."

Chase's main screenname was in all of the logs I had pulled. It was YoungFollower19.

Almost all of his conversations were typical 12-year-old stuff which often tied back into the church, except for whenever he chatted with someone named Honcho14.

Most of the conversations I found between YoungFollower19 and Honcho14 were just as stale and uninteresting as the rest of his conversations about South Park and Warheads candy and various other juvenile topics, but one jump drive dove into a cluster of conversations which plunged into the bizarre.

July 16, 1998 – Private Chat

Honcho14: Haven't heard much from you lately...

YoungFollower19: Yeah, been a pretty boring summer.

Honcho14: Is that what LareBear would say?

YoungFollower19: What?

Honcho14: You guys have been talking a lot.

YoungFollower19: You're crazy.

Honcho14: But you have. Been getting serious?

YoungFollower19: I'm done talking to you.

August 22, 1998 – Private Chat

Honcho14: You've been ignoring me.

YoungFollower19: I'm not ignoring you. I just haven't been on in a while. Getting ready to go back to school too.

Honcho14: So you're meeting LareBear?

YoungFollower19: No. I don't know why you are obsessed with that. I've only talked to him like three times.

Honcho14: I don't believe you.

YoungFollower19: I don't care anymore.

Honcho14: You told me you loved me.

YoungFollower19: Only cause you made me.

Honcho14: Fuck you.

October 1, 1998 – Private Chat

Honcho14: You're a liar.

YoungFollower19: Leave me alone.

Honcho14: I'm going to tell everyone.

YoungFollower19: Tell everyone what? You're into little boys?

Honcho14: No, that you're into boys. I have all the evidence. You'll be in so much trouble.

YoungFollower19: I have more on you than you do me.

Honcho14: Ha. Go for it. See if anyone believes you, but you better be careful. A lot of dangerous people out there.

YoungFollower19: What does that mean?

Honcho14: You know...

*

Ronnie met me by the river this time.  I refused to go to The Locker Room again.

We stood there staring at the muddy river, Ronnie smoking a cigarette for a few minutes before we had the courage to speak.  

"Who's Honcho fourteen?" I got it started.

"Somebody at the church, not sure who" Ronnie said before he chucked his smoke into the river.

"Any idea?"

"No idea. I think I know what happened though."

"What?"

"I think either this Larry guy or whoever Honcho is murdered Chase, some people figured it out, but they covered it up, staged a suicide because they didn't want people to know Chase was gay and they didn't want anyone to suspect Crave."

"How could we prove that?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what. There's a computer in the church in town anyone who worked there used which is still there in the office. If you can get the information off of that computer. I'm pretty sure you prove it. I'm sure there's something on there. They were always on that thing."

"Can we get on there?"

"I think if we try to get in there late enough we can break in. They got shit for security and locks, not a huge surprise."

"Will you go with me?"

*

The area around the Crave Church took on a completely different vibe in the middle of a windy night. An absence of street lights made the world almost completely dark and an absence of houses left the land around the street wild and overgrown, an easy landscaping for hiding.

"You're sure no one should be there?" I asked Ronnie the question for about the third time since we left the river.

"No one stays there after hours," Ronnie assured. "The only person who is ever really there is Bill and he's in a wheelchair, so it's not like he could really do anything."

A lone light bulb dangling loosely from a tangle of cords above the front door greeted us when we reached the front door of the church. Ronnie went to work on the lock with a crowbar. He jammed the thing into the crease of the door and wrenched as hard as possible. I was impressed with how much progress he made, the wood of the door bent backwards against where the lock in the handle was instantly started to splinter and give. It only took a few wrenches before the lock gave out and the door swung open into the building.

"Easy as fuckin pie," Ronnie muttered underneath his breath before he stepped into the doorway. "Come on, fast."

I swiftly followed Ronnie into the darkness of the church. He shut the door behind us.

The only light now came from the flashlight app on Ronnie's phone. He shined it down a long, narrow hallway where I remember Bill's office resided. I followed Ronnie in that direction.

Ronnie led me into the office and flicked on a light switch. The windowless room came alive with soft light.

Ronnie waved a hand in the direction of a computer on top of a desk in front of an office chair which looked so beaten and weighed down that it might fall into pieces if anyone sat on it.

"Do your thing," Ronnie insisted.

I sat down at the computer, woke it up and fired away. I moved so quickly, I must have had the chat log history folder pulled up in less than 10 seconds.

"Forget about that," Ronnie interrupted my haste.

"What?"

"We already know all that shit," Ronnie explained. "Go to the regular folders."

I followed Ronnie's direction to the general files folder of the computer but stopped as soon as I opened it up. There was a crash outside in the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered.

Ronnie and I looked at the open office door behind us. No more sounds radiated from the area, but the initial crash was enough to get my heart rate to rise.

"Maybe someone else walked through the front door," Ronnie muttered. "I'll check it out."

My brain told me to plead Ronnie to stay, not leave me alone in the office, but I think the pressure and anxiety of the situation paralyzed my system. I watched Ronnie walk out of the room.

I turned my attention back to the folder in front of me, it's guts lying on the computer screen, endless folders upon folders with random names which didn't seem to suggest anything. How should I even know which one to click on first?

I just started machine gun opening folders. I would open up the folder, take a quick scan to see anything which seemed like it could help our search and abandon it if I couldn't find something soon enough, my ears still tuned to the doorway, expecting to hear Ronnie's footsteps come back any second.

Finally, a folder named Sir Psycho Sexy caught my eye. Tucked at the very bottom of the scroll of a folder within a folder, I couldn't ignore the name. A quick click sprawled the contents across the screen and they did not disappoint.

Lying in front of my eyes were thumbnails of photos I will never get out of my mind. I will spare you the disturbing details, but they were all of Chase with about half of them also featuring Bill and another half featuring random middle-aged men. I clicked in and out of photos until I stopped on one I could only look at for the briefest of glimpses. It was of Ronnie struggling against a rope tied around his neck attached to a ceiling.

The picture felt like a hard punch in my gut. I turned onto my side in the computer chair, my mouth coughing down towards the floor, my face flushed with blood, vomit bubbling at the back of my throat.

A creaking sound from behind me forced me to turn my gaze around.My eyes whipped over to a back corner of the room and a door I hadn't noticed when we came was now open.

"Ronnie...

There was no verbal answer. I watched Bill roll himself through the door and into the room in his wheelchair.

"What the fuck is wrong with you" I spat at Bill.

Bill answered my question with a fat smirk and a squint from behind his glasses.

"You fucking killed him?" I went on.

"You can't prove that."

I wasted no time in chatting, instead jumped back to the computer, jammed a jump drive in and threw the Sir Psycho Sexy folder into it. I watched the folder disappear into the drive icon just before I saw a thick rope drop down across my field of vision and cinch tight around my neck.

I was lifted up off of my feet. My throat gagged in a way I had never felt before. My body swung around like a pinata on a line. I looked down on Bill's heavy form standing up just fine on his own two feet, his chair resting over by the door in the corner of the room. He pushed his face up to mine and stared deeply into my eyes with cold grey pupils. I shut mine as hard as I could.

I tried to scream for Ronnie, but couldn't even get a gasp out. I was utterly helpless. I just stared at the doorway to the office hoping to see Ronnie come running into save me with one thought running in my head over and over again. Bill had been faking the wheelchair the entire time?

Lightheaded and slipping away to where I no longer cared, I started to lament almost every single thing I had done in my life. The warm, dreamy embrace of death I had heard about so many times in my life may not have been real. This was far from pleasant, but somewhere in the fog I thought I heard my salvation coming from out in the hall. Footsteps pitter pattered in our direction. I felt Bill ever so slightly loosen his grip.

I tried to scream out when Ronnie stepped into the doorway, sweat-coated and wide-eyed.

The grip let up just enough to where I could squeak out...

"Ronnie."

Ronnie didn't even make eye contact with me. Just glared at Bill.

"We weren't supposed to do this yet."

Bill dropped me hard to the floor.

"We do him the same way we did Chase," Bill snorted.

"No one can know," Ronnie mumbled.

*

Bill and Ronnie tied me up with the rope Bill nearly strangled me to death with without a hint of an explanation despite my pleads before they covered my mouth with duct tape. They threw me into the canopy-covered back of a truck and we took off into the night.

My only potential salvation in my mind rested in my cell phone in my pocket. Ronnie and Bill had forgotten to take it out of my pocket when they tied me up. My arms were tied behind my back so I couldn't take it out and dial it, but I was able to press my fists against it and press as hard as I could to try and get it to do something. I thanked my lucky (or in this case unlucky) stars that I used a piece of shit Windows phone which didn't have an access code or lock screen. I kept at it for as long as I could hoping to "butt dial" someone for the first time in my life.

I finally started to cry when I felt the truck slow and come to a stop. I think the shock and adrenaline had finally wore off. The 10 minute or so drive allowed me to cool down and think about the situation. I started wishing Bill had just finished it back at the church.

I heard the tailgate drop. I wiggled around and saw Ronnie craw under the canopy.

"You got him," I heard Bill announce from off in the distance.

Why are you doing this? I tried to ask from behind the thick tape on my mouth, but it came out like "wha hi ur hue ewing it?"

Ronnie must have been able to make out the question though. He drifted an eye towards me.

"I knew you always thought I was a retard. Thought I was a weirdo. You were right. I thought I could do it at first, help you, forget about it all, but then I thought about everybody knowing what happened to me. We got too deep, you knew too much. Had to do the same thing with Chase. He was going to tell everybody."

"Stop playing grab ass with him," Bill shot out again.

Ronnie grabbed me around the waist and pulled out of the canopy until we both dropped to the muddy ground. A summer rain misted down upon us.

I let my entire body go limp. Tried to make it hard as humanly possible to carry me.

"Come on, man," Ronnie yelled down at me when he tried to pick me up.

I started to hear something much more hideous than Ronnie's voice once he finished his casual plead... the sound of hoofs stomping upon hard dirt, the sound of grunts and huffs and puffs. The sounds of hogs.

I screamed as hard as I could from behind the tape. The rain picked up to a steady fall.

I let up my screaming for a second and started to hear a familiar, nostalgic sound trickle into my ear over the sound of the hogs and the rain. The purr of my dad's old truck. It was the same sound I used to love to hear on autumn afternoons after football practice when I could hear his old 95 F-350 coming from seemingly all the away across town, knowing he would soon pick me up and I would jump in the cab where he had a fresh pack of beef jerky waiting for me.

The sound got louder until I saw tall headlights slip into the clearing where Ronnie and Bill were standing over me. The headlights stopped about 30 yards away and the rumble of the truck ceased.

"You tell anyone else to come out yet," I heard Bill frantically ask Ronnie.

The first shot ripped through right after Bill finished and struck him directly in the neck. I heard a hideous gasp of a sound shoot out from Bill's head but was quickly distracted by the blast of another shot.

I laid out as flat as I possibly could. Shot a look over at the direction of the headlights which were still on across the clearing. I gave a look over in the other direction and locked eyes with Ronnie's which were open as wide as possible and frozen as if someone had glued his eyelids to the sockets. I looked down to see fresh blood pouring out of a sickening hole in his white tank top.

A brief wave of relief washed over me but it only lasted for a second. This unknown gunman could have been coming to just steal me from my captors. Maybe I had really died and my brain was creating some dreamlike delusion of my dad saving me in his truck to comfort me.

It all felt real though when I tried to catch my breath and failed to make my way to my feet in the mud. I heard the heavy stomping of boots splashing into thick mud head my way from the direction of the headlights.

I rolled onto my back like a helpless turtle and looked up into the white light of the headlights. I saw my savior walk into my field of vision above me.

It was my dad. He clutched the custom rifle he cherished which reminded him of the one he used in Vietnam with his name etched into the side with shaking hands.

He took a shaky palm off of the rifle and offered it down to help me to my feet. I obliged.

My dad reached into my pocket as soon as I got up to my feet. He pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. Showed that it was currently on a call with him.

"You've been calling me for the last twenty minutes."

I almost laughed, but instead did something for the first time in as long as I could remember. I hugged my dad.

*

Dad's funeral ended up being only about a few months after he saved me that night. He tried to kick the whiskey a few times, but the damage had been done and he just couldn't do it. The two of us were also fighting off an investigation from the local cops about Ronnie and good ol Crumpled Twenty Bill, so it was almost like my dad was racing to get to that last fatal drink to avoid having to go to court and/or jail for the whole thing.

I flew back from Denver again to hold his hand as he faded away in that bed in the living room with a new-found appreciation for that Vietnam portrait which rested above the TV pumped in my heart.

We buried him next to his mom and dad in a cemetery town in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of east Tennessee. We held the funeral on a rainy Saturday in the fall early in the morning so everyone would have the time to make it to a TV or a bar afterwards to see Tennessee take on Alabama on the football field.

I was shocked by the amount of turnout. I figured only a few scattered family members I barely knew and some old friends from his hometown would show up. I was shocked when I pulled into the little gravel parking lot of the cemetery and saw lines of Harleys and beat-up trucks with POW/MIA flags and stickers adorned  to them filling up the parking lot.

I shook a lot of hands, introduced myself to a lot of veterans before the funeral started and everyone took their seats to watch me nervously MC the thing. I patted my dad's coffin before I walked up to the podium and started the ceremonies.

"Well... my dad made it clear he didn't want a traditional funeral. He didn't want all the sadness and the stale words of condolence and enlightenment. He just wanted stories. He just wanted everyone who felt like it to know that they could come up here and tell a story about my dad if they like... and he wanted me to get things started."

I stopped. The tears. The sobs. They came on in a fit. I tried to fight them, but just gave in and let it go for about 30 seconds.

"Uh, I have a story I want to tell you all. It's long and it's crazy and it's dark and it shows some flaws, but in the end, my dad's the hero he could be sometimes... so, do you want to hear it?

Originally published by Thought Catalog on www.ThoughtCatalog.com