Date: Wed, 9 Jan 2002 21:24:45 -0500
From: Elsewhere <dreamer@shell.monmouth.com>
Subject: Humor Me (Part 10/12, High School, m/m)

Humor Me

Disclaimer: This is a story about a romantic relationship between two
teenage males.  If that kind of story offends you, then please do not read
the following story.  Also, if you are under the legal age to read stories
of this type, then don't.  Please do not reproduce this story without
permission, since that is a copyright infringement.

Thanks to David for proofreading again!

Well, I did manage to finish Chapter 12.  With that, the story ends.  It
ended at a point where I was planning for it to end.  I know a few of you
have e-mailed me asking not to end it, and I'm sorry can't fulfill that
request.  COmments like that make me glad I did write this.


Comments go to dreamer@shell.monmouth.com.  Feedback is always very much
appreciated.


-Chapter 10-

            There was the pain, first.  Sharp, biting, and wedded to a dull
ache that burned from within.  That fire raged, consuming my world and
scattering my thoughts to the winds like ashes.

            At the worst, when I felt that the pain was all, I fell into
ice water which seeped into my entire being.  The pulse, the one sensation
that singled me out from the rest of creation, slowed as the fires were
quenched.  Then, the cold, which didn't burn, but made me slow, as if I
walked through water.  The cold; total and final.

            Was I dead?

            I asked that, because there was the darkness, again.  I was
able to feel, and that was the only proof I had that I was.  There was
darkness, all-encompassing, and it made me wonder if light ever really
existed.  Or, was it all my imagination?  Did I dream?  Did I live?

            Did I live, or did Cohen kill me?

            No one knew I was missing, so there was no one to save me, so I
must be dead.  He must have broken my head the way he broke my arm.  The
memory of the crowbar smashing bone sent a twinge of pain through me,
whatever I was.

            Did I really feel that, or did I just remember it?

            I had failed. I had tried to be strong, as everyone wanted.  I
tried to fight, to save myself.  And I blew it.  I fought, and lost, and
died.  I let everyone down.  I let my family down.  I let Michael down.
I'm so sorry.  I tried.

            Where was I now?

            Is this heaven, or Purgatory, or do we cease to exist at the
moment of death?  The last idea was obviously false, and stupid besides.  I
still...was.

            My name is Jonas.

            I exist.  Or, probably, I /did/ exist.

            The next thought hit me as the darkness became muted, like
you're seeing light through a layer of black cloth.  Maybe I was right;
maybe we were sent back to the start of our lives as we died, to live it
all over again.  Was I correct?  Did I have another chance at getting it
right?

            The excitement swept me up, pushing me into that black curtain,
closer to the light behind it as I took a deep breath.  A breath?  Oh,
shit, I'm alive!  Starting over, but I'm not dead!

            Piece by piece, I regained awareness of my body.  My breath
slid in and out of my mouth, slowly while I moved my ankles and felt cloth
against my toes.  Blanket or socks, I wasn't sure which.  I was lying down;
I could feel the softness of a mattress on my back.  Feather mattress, and
not the plastic one on my waterbed.  If this wasn't my room, where was I?

            The sheet on the mattress tickled my fingertips as I pushed my
left hand across it, trying to get an idea of my surroundings.  I had tried
my right first, but it wouldn't move.  The back of my hand struck something
solid, plastic, and perpendicular to the bed.

            Oh, God.  It felt like a bar.  Like the one someone would feel
on the side of a crib.

            I was alive.  And I was in a crib.  I was an infant again!

            I was ready to laugh. I was a kid.  No cares, few
responsibilities, a room full of toys, and...I could see Dad again.
I...maybe I could warn him!  God, maybe I could save him.

            My heart leapt with the possibilities, then sank in the next
second, weighted down by other memories.  Tormenting older brothers, Grade
School, and potty training.  It was mine to do all over again.

            Now I understood why babies cried all the time.  They
remembered, and it was enough to drive anyone to tears.  Including myself,
as my hand tightened around the vertical bar, and my chest started to hitch
with repressed sobs.

            "Fuck."

            The word alone made my cry stop dead in my throat.  I had
wanted to say that, and I did open my mouth.  But, where was the
infant-like cry that was supposed to be there?  The voice was weak, but it
sounded so familiar, the way it echoed in my mouth.

            It was my voice.  And not the higher-pitched voice I had as a
small child.  This was the voice I sang with, and talked with, as I
remembered it.  My adult voice.

            "If that's an offer," a woman's voice I didn't know said, out
of the rapidly diminishing darkness, "then I'm sorry to say that I'm
married.  But if you're talking about your situation, dear, than that's a
good way to put it."

            I had no idea who that was!  My eyes flipped open, and I shrank
away from the sudden surge of fluorescent light.  I gasped, and bit off
another string of curses a my eyes took their time to adjust.  I was alive.
And, I think, still who I was at the same point in time when I lost
consciousness.

            Standing at the side of my bed was a woman. The bed...that bar
wasn't the bars on a crib, but the edge of one of the arm rests on a
hospital bed.  This made sense, because the woman was in a nurse's outfit:
clean, white crisply pressed.  Her heart-shaped face showed just a touch of
makeup, and was framed by wisps of dark brown hair.  I guessed the rest was
done in a bun on the back of her head.

            Behind her was another splash of white clothing, retreating and
accompanied by hurried footsteps.  Another nurse.  My gaze went back to the
one by my bed, who was still there.  The only adornment on her clothing was
a gold-colored name tag reading 'K. Borden' in black lettering.

            Other than that, I was in what appeared to be a normal hospital
room.  Uncarpeted tile floors, walls painted in beige, a TV across from my
bed, and an empty bed to my right by the window, where it was dark outside.

            "Depends," I said, surprised at how faint I sounded.  "Though,
believe me, I didn't intend it as an offer."

            "Good," she said, marking something on the clipboard she was
holding.  "From what I heard, you've had a pretty rough night."  She
scratched out something else.  "What's your name?"

            "Jonas Kowalczyk," I answered.

            "Birth date?"

            "September.  The twentieth."

            "Home address?"  I gave that out before her next question.
"Age?"

            "Sixteen."  I paused, unsure.  "I...am sixteen, right?"

            She gave me a 'huh?' look.  "What do you mean?"

            "How long was I out?"

            This brought out a chuckle from Nurse Borden.  "We brought you
in about four, five hours ago."

            I made it.  Holy crap, I lived!  With as much of a smile as I
could manage, I went to push myself by my arms.  A sudden shot of pain
through my right arm stopped me as I dropped back down.

            "Watch it," the nurse chided.  "That's going to be tender for a
while.

            I turned to my right arm, wondering what she meant.  The answer
was plain to see; my arm was in a cast from my wrist to my elbow, and it
hurt to move my fingers.  "Well," I mumbled. "Next time, I'll block a
crowbar with something else."

            "I'll say," she replied, taking even more notes.  "That thing
broke two bones in three places."

            I ran my good hand over the rough plaster of the cast,
wondering what my arm looked like under my skin.  Another bolt of pain shot
upward, and I erupted with another gasp and wince.

            "Hurts thinking about, huh," she asked, as I answered with a
mute nod as I bit my lip to keep from screaming.  "That'll go away in a day
or two."

            "Will it heal," I asked.

            "Give it a couple of months," she said.  "They were able to set
the bones right, so all you need right now is time."

            Time.  In some ways, a lot of things come back to time.  It
just keeps moving forward, even as we try to live it, or recapture the
moments of our past that are the most pure in our minds.  Is either right,
or are they both wrong, or does the path lie somewhere in between?

            What happened between Cohen and I was written in stone.  I
can't change what happened, but I can't forget it, either.  The memory
would fade, I was sure of that, but I was not going to deny that it ever
happened.  I, and the people around me, would have to deal with it any way
we could.

            Speaking of that, "Could I use the phone," I asked as I turned
back to Nurse Borden.  "I need to call my family and tell them."

            "Too late, Jo," a voice said, coming inside.  Shane, who had
spoken, was first, carrying a plastic bag and followed my Mom and Lisa.
"We've been downstairs the whole time.  They told us you just woke up."

            Ah ha.  So that's where the other nurse went.  Mom came to my
left side, putting her arms around me tightly, as if I was going to vanish
in the next second.  She didn't say anything but my name.  She'd been
crying.

            "Mom, I'm all right," I said softly, and tried to hug her back.
I mostly succeeded, save for the broken arm.  "What did the doctors say?"

            "Besides the arm, you're fine.  You've got a couple of bumps
and bruises, but you'll get over it."

            "On the outside, Mom," I said, as Lisa leaned in to give me a
peck on the cheek, and Shane sat on my bed, near my feet.  "I really need
to talk this out.  Later, but it needs to happen."

            Mom nodded, as Lisa patted my hand.  "Relax, Jo," Lisa said.
"Don't go too far ahead of us, now."

            "Besides," Shane piped in, and tossed the plastic department
store bag into the bed.  I almost sat up at the sudden pressure on my
chest.  I winced yet again; I was small, but that shouldn't have hurt.  I
wondered what else happened.  "You're here for another day, so we brought
stuff."

            I pushed the bag until the mouth faced me, removing the extra
clothes first.  "Here," Mom said, taking those from me and placing them in
the small cabinet/end table by my bed.  The rest of the stuff were some of
the comics I bought that week and hadn't read yet, and Mac.

            I squeezed the bear with both hands.  I never thought I'd be
happy to see everyone, including a stuffed toy. "Thanks," I said, feeling
better about being stuck in a hospital bed for another day.  "Just...what
time is it now?"  My watch wasn't on my wrist, and I wouldn't see it again
until I left the hospital, when I found it with my personal effects,
including my wallet.  I leaned against Mom, making sure she was there.

            "Past midnight," Lisa said.  I think she had said more, but
three other people had walked into the room; Dani was first, and she
shuffled around to the other side of my bed, searching for something in her
pocketbook.  Jace, who I never expected to ever see again; he walked in
behind Dani, and brought a hand to his mouth as he saw me.  Was he crying?
I looked beyond Jace, and everything crashed together again.

            I barely had time to sit up before Mike hit the bedside,
picking up speed only when he saw me.  He pulled me over, away from my
chuckling mother, and gathered me close, crushing me against his chest.  I
had little time to smile, or comment, and at that point I was struggling to
breathe.  I saw his face before the attack-snuggle, and saw he'd been
crying, too, and everyone looked weary from being worried.  For me.

            My emotions boiled over again, setting me shaking in his arms.
I did this.  I upset all of them by getting hurt.  I...guess I just
couldn't do anything right.  I was okay.  I needed to be okay.  Everyone
else needed to be okay.

            Mike needed to be okay.

            I started to think I hurt my head harder than I thought.
I...couldn't focus on anything.  I was struck with the urge to scream, cry,
run, and laugh all at once, and everything still hurt like hell.  I was so
happy to see everyone, but I wanted to be left alone, but I didn't want
them to go.  What the hell is going on?

            "Jonas," Mike whispered.

            "Don't," I said, derailing whatever he had to say.  "Don't say
anything, please, and don't go."  I glanced to my brother, as if daring him
to say something.  SO sorry to disappoint, dear Shane, but I'm feeling a
little vulnerable right now.  Stalkings, kidnappings, and being hit with a
fucking crowbar will do that to a person.  And if you don't like it,
brother mine, you can go to hell.

            I could have said any of these things to my brother as I looked
at him, but he just smiled at me, and patted me on the knee.  So, all of my
good lines were wasted, since, Shane, you know, actually liked me and loved
me and all that brother stuff most guys wouldn't admit to.  Damn him for
doing the right thing.

            Lisa had walked around to the other side of the bed, next to
Dani, who had found a marker she kept in her purse.  At any rate, they were
not planning on leaving my cast unmarked for long.  Mom absently rubbed one
of my shoulders, talking quietly about something else to Jace.

            "Okay," Mike said, and didn't let go.  I turned my face again,
and buried it in his chest.  I felt his warmth, his scent, his love, his
entire being envelop me.

            I wanted to believe that I'd always be safe, like this, but the
previous day had proven me incorrect.  No one was safe, no matter what was
done.  I sighed without words and Mike draw his arms tighter around me.
Anything could happen to anyone, at any time, with a randomness in the
world that we, as people, don't have the mental facilities to deal with
fully.

            In other words, shit happens.

            "I'm" I said, taking a deep breath.  "All right.  I'm not sure
who's told you what," I went on with, and squirmed out of Mike's embrace,
"but I wanted to talk about this, about what happened."

            "You don't have to," Dani said, speaking up as she rolled the
marker between her thumb and fingers.  "It's all too fresh, and we can wait
a few days."

            I shook my head.  "That's exactly why, Dani," I said.  "It did
just happen, and I want all of you to know what really happened because
rumors about shit like this tend to get way out of hand."

            "Language," Mom scolded.  Her unspoken words, or I'll wash out
your mouth with soap' hung in the air like a very clean storm cloud.

            My stomach rumbled at that.  Hell, I could have eaten a lump of
soap if offered right there.  Okay...maybe that scented green soap, so I'd
have minty fresh breath after that.  Mike, Lisa, and Shane chuckled as they
heard my stomach growl.  "None of your brought a burger with you, did you?
Jace, you work at Smitty's, you couldn't bring me anything?"

            The older blond boy sighed.  "I've been a bit busy, tonight,"
he said.  When I opened my mouth to ask what, he raised a hand to forestall
me.  "Later.  There's some stuff you don't know yet."

            The rest of them smiled at my comments.  "Still the same," Mike
said, and the smile he gave me was deafening.  He slid his hand under my
left hand, lacing our fingers together.  Mom placed her own hand on top of
that joining, and nodded.

            For the next half hour, I told them everything: what Cohen had
said, what I was feeling, where I was, and what really happened.  I wished
I could have told the story better; even with something like this, I bet
Mike would have made them laugh.  Me, I wanted to make them laugh, because
then I'd laugh and maybe I could put this nightmare behind me.

            Dani looked stunned.  "I thought I was good at telling who was
gay, but...I had no idea.  He /never/ let on."

            "That was it," I said.  "He just bottled it all up til he
busted.  But..it does explain the gifts."

            "What gifts," Mom asked.

            "Well," I said, "there was a few times.  I had notes in my
locker, with stuff like candy or flowers.  I just thought it was Mike.  I
mean, I even thanked him for it."

            "Nah," Mike answered. "I didn't do anything like that."

            "You should."

            "I'll keep it in mind, Jonas," Mike said.  "I remember you
thanking me, but I just thought you were...umm...kidding."

            Oh, /nice/ recovery there, love of my life.  I made a note to
remind myself to explain to Mike what things are best if Mom never hears
about the,.  Behind them, Shane and Jace exchanged knowing, mischievious
smiles, and the girls looked ever-so-innocent.

            If Mom realized the slip, she didn't let on as, one by one,
each of them explained what happened, and how they ended up here.  Jace saw
it all happen, because I left my wallet on a table at Smitty's.  He went
right to the cops, who tracked down the car, Cohen's house, and found me
right after I banged my head on the floor of Cohen's basement.  That
explained some of the sounds I heard before I blacked out.  The cops called
my family, and Shane called Mike.  Mike left messages on Dani and Lisa's
machines, and Lisa checked her voice mail while she and Dani were out, and
beat feet here as soon as they heard.

            I listened to all of the stories wordlessly, trying to take
then in and piece it together in some sort of mental timeline for myself.
I knew that it really didn't matter, because I was safe.  But, it did help
me accept all of it.

            "Jace," I said, waving my hand.  "Come here."

            The older boy crept towards the bed, standing next to Mike.
With a motion, I made Jace bend forward, like a countryman bowing before an
invalid monarch.

            I leaned forward, and kissed Jace tenderly on the forehead.
"Thank you," I said.  "What you did saved my life.  I have no idea what I
can do to thank you."

            "Hey, you're okay," Jace replied, bending back up to smooth out
his white-blond hair.  Mike looked a little pained, standing beside him,
like something hurt him really bad.  "That's all that matters."

            I nodded.  "I owe you, for the work of a hero."

            "Then don't make the same mistakes I did," Jace said.  "You
have a chance to get it right the first time.  So get it right."

            "You, too," I ordered.  The rest of them, save my brother and
Mike, looked at me with expressions of total cluelessness.  I turned to
Mike, smiling as I gripped his hand.  "Mike.  What's the matter?"

            He looked down at the floor, embarrassed.  "I...just wish I
could have been your hero," he admitted.  "I wasn't there, and I'm sorry,
and it's still getting to me."

            Since I had a grip on his hand, I used that to pull him down
into a kiss.  "Mike," I said.  "Listen.  Every day, I thank God you're a
part of my life.  No one saw this coming, and you have nothing to apologize
for.  You're here now, and that means the world to me."  I kissed him
again.  "I love you, and what hurt me when I got hit was that I'd never
have the chance to say that to you again."

            "Love you, too," he said, and kissed me fiercely, as if my
kisses were going out of style.  After the chorus of sickened 'Awwws' from
my family and other friends, we let each other go.

            "Well," Mom said.  Was she blushing?  I...think that might have
been the first time she ever saw us kiss.  She seemed happy about it.
"Well, for starters, I was told you can come home Monday.  You're to rest
up a bit more, so you're going to be home for the week."

            I pumped my left fist.  "Woo-hoo!" I crowed.  Then, I recovered
myself with an embarrassed chuckle.  "I mean, oh, damn, I miss school for a
week."  I quickly looked to the classmates that were present.  "You'll get
my assignments, right,' I asked, giving Mom an apologetic look.

            Lisa nodded.  "Of course we will."

            "Damn you all."

            "Yeah, Jo," Dani said.  "We love you too."

            We talked for what seemed like hours, since it was.  I made
plans for the rest of the week, which person would pick up my class work,
and what Mom and Shane could pick up for me at the grocery store, to tide
me over.

            Mike was still holding my hand while Lisa and Jace were holding
a discussion about clothing outlet stores and off-standard body shapes when
sleep crept up on me again, taking me down easily to its lair, where I was
gifted with a dreamless slumber.

                                                                        ***

            I woke up later, mostly because the sun was in my eyes.  I
always hated that.  Back home, I looked around until I found the heaviest
curtains and blinds I could find for my own room, to ensure I slept in
complete darkness. Light from a TV that was on, I could roughly tolerate,
but sunlight and my sleep patterns did not mix.

            I rolled over, ready to push myself off the bed to either shut
the blinds or shoot the sun out of the sky, when I stopped.  It was really
quiet, and most of the room was still empty.

            Except for one: Michael sat on the windowsill, watching the sun
rise slowly, since my window apparently faced east.  At the noise from my
awkward movements, he turned, and smiled.  "Good morning," he said, hopping
off the sill.

            "Morning,' I said, flopping back into my bed as Mike came over.
"Where is everyone?"

            "Shane drove Jace, Lisa, and Dani home," Mike answered, kissing
me before he went on.  "I guess he went home to sleep after he did that.
Your Mom left an hour ago.  I called my folks, and they came to get her,
and take her out to breakfast."

            I chuckled at that mental picture.  My mom and his parents over
food.  "Fly. Wall. Conversation."

            "Oh, I'd have paid to have seen that,' Mike said, flashing me a
grin.  Our respective parental units hadn't met before, and we both had
been hoping to orchestrate that meeting, and get it on tape later for
future blackmail.  Ah, well, those were the breaks.

            "Why didn't you go," I asked, since breakfast sounded like a
/really/ good idea at that moment.

            "I didn't want to leave," Mike said, sitting at my bedside.
"You'd be all alone, and...after all that's happened.  I...didn't want to
go.  I wanted to stay here with you."

            I leaned in, and saw the dark circles under his eyes.
"Christ," I said.  "You haven't slept."

            He shook his head.  "I'll sleep later," he said.  "I wanted to
see you smile when you woke up.  I...last night freaked me out, in a lot of
ways."

            "Mike," I said.  "I just kissed him on the forehead.  It didn't
mean anything."

            "No," Mike chuckled.  "That wasn't it.  Besides, Jace and I
are...talking, now.  I don't love him, but he's really sorry for what he
did to me.  I need time, but I think I can forgive him."

            And that meant more to me than him saying he was up all night
at my bedside.  Good, Mike, we're both growing up.  "Okay," I said, taking
his hand.  "So...when I go back to school, will you carry my books?"

            "Why," he asked me with a wry smirk.  "You have another arm."

            "Another arm which is gonna beat your ass in two seconds,
peasant," I retorted.  "I love you, but you will obey me."

            "All right," he said.  "But...you have to promise not to let
what happened weigh you down.  You made it through."

            I nodded in agreement.  "Oh, I don't want to get all fucked up
over it.  I'm going to get help once I get back to school, so there'll be
less free time."

            He put a hand on my chest, rubbing it in a circle, and moved
down to my stomach, rubbing there as well.  "You're still with us," he
said.  "Take all the time you need.  Just so long as you don't forget who
you are."

            "I'd been wondering about that," I admitted.  "Sometime last
night, when the others were talking.  I...I can get through this, but it's
not going to be the easiest thing I've ever done.  Hell, I'm a little
worried about leaving the hospital as it is, right now."  I pushed myself
up so I was sitting again.  "Part of me is scared, Michael.  And it's going
to take time.  If...you want to back out from us now, I would understand."

            Mike's face fell, and he threw his arms around me, sniffling.
"God, Jo, no." he said.  "I'm not leaving you behind.  Never."

            I nodded, and said nothing, and just let him hold me, squeezing
him back with both arms.  My left hand moved up and down his back gently,
consoling him.  I opened my eyes, and was taken aback by what I saw.

            "My cast," I said, releasing the hug, to take a closer look at
it, and the new drawings on it.  "You guys wasted no time."

            Mike chuckled.  "Well, you were asleep, so we figured then was
a good time to get it done."

            "Probably," I admitted.  "But it looks great."  I pointed to
one group: A peace sign in a circle, a red heart, and a pink triangle in a
column.  "Yours?"

            "Right," he said.  "Want to guess who did the others?"

            I nodded.  "Okay, the Celtic runes on the edges...Dani?"

            "Right again," he said, kissing me on the top of my head.  God,
I loved it when he did that.

            "The Justice League symbols are Lisa's," I said, and when I got
a confirmation I kept going.  "And the rainbow, that's Jace?  Ok, and
here's...a football, next to a pair of crossed hockey sticks..."

            Mike busted out with a laugh.  "Shane went last," he explained,
"and when he saw what the rest of us put there, he declared you /had/ to
have something even vaguely hetero on it."  He smirked.  "Give the kids at
school something to think about."

            I did an involuntary shudder at the mention of Weathering.
"I...am not really all that gung-ho about going back.  I don't think Cohen
will be there, but-"

            "But if he is," Mike said, his voice carrying a chill with it.
"We'll make that little fucker eat the cast, with your fist attached."

            I sighed.  I had been thinking that over last night, as well.
I already knew what I wanted to do about this, once I got out of the
hospital and Mom made an appointment with her lawyer.  I knew some others
would frown on what I was doing, but inside, I knew it was the right thing
to do.  "No," I said quietly.  "We're not."

            Mike pulled back, giving me an odd, uncomprehending look.
"What the hell do you mean, we're not?  If I knew where he was right now,
I'd go out there and kick his ass right now."

            "No," I said, more firmly.  "You're not going to do
anything...and neither am I.  I'm not going to sue, and the only reason I
plan to press charges at all is that I want to make sure he gets help.  If
his lawyer pleads insanity, I wouldn't contest it."

            Mike's eyes narrowed.  I wasn't sure if he was really angry
with me, or disappointed, hurt, or what.  "How can you do that," he asked.
"Jonas, he almost killed you.  Fuck, he almost /raped/ you, and might have
if the cops didn't show up.  And you're just going to let him go?  Or 'get
help?'  How can you let him get away with that?"

            "Because it could have been me!" I said, not meaning to shout,
but it happened anyway.

            Mike stopped right before the coming rant.  "What?"

            "That could have been me," I said.  "Mike, remember when we
first started being friends?  I was bottling it all up to.  And last night,
I was thinking 'what if I didn't say anything?'  What if I had let it all
just boil inside?  Mike, I love you.  What...if I had gone too far, if I
hadn't told you I like you at all?"

            Mike sat down next to me again.  "Jo.  Listen to me.  You're
not like that.  You were never like that, and you will never be like that."

            "But I /could/ have been," I said.  "I thank God it didn't
happen that way, but it could have..."

            "He was obsessed with you.  It wasn't healthy."

            "You would know."

            Mike winced, again.  "I..."

            "Mike, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said it."

            "Yes, you should have."  Mike leaned into kiss me again.
"I...tried to think that what Cohen did wasn't the same thing I did, but
it's all based on the same feelings.  I...God, I know how I was, back then,
and I think about you in the hands of someone like the person I used to be
and..."  He choked, then, the tears coming slowly.

            "Shh," I said, wiping the tears away.  "It's okay.  I'm here
now, and you're you, and I still love you.  You see why he needs help?"

            Mike nodded.  "Count yourself lucky," he said.  "You'll never
know what it's like to be that fucked up."

            I raised an eyebrow.  I...never wanted to tell him this, but as
I comforted his crying, I knew he needed to hear it.  He knew I was hiding
something, but didn't press because something similar earlier on almost
broke our relationship.  "I do," I said.  "I've been there."

            Mike pulled his face up.  "No, you haven't."

            "Yes, I have," I said.  "Not the same thing you were going
through, but...you ever wonder why I got sent to Weathering?"

            Mike shook his head.  "I've seen your test answers.  That's
qualifications alone."

            "True," I admitted.  Hey, I was smart.  Why should I lie about
it?  "But that wasn't it."  I stopped, bowing my head.  Mike, forgive me.
"I used to get my ass kicked a lot by other students when I was a kid.  I
mean, almost daily.  And, when I hit eighth grade, I started fighting
back."  I looked away.  "See, I'd do anything.  Biting, kick to the nads,
fingernails, whatever it took to get them to stop.  I'd still get hurt a
lot, but I started to hurt back, and a lot of teachers and higher ups got
concerned."

            Mike's eyebrows shot up.  "You're...shitting me."

            "I shit you not," I said.  "Ask Shane about it, if you get a
chance.  But, one day, one of the bullies...hell, I forgot his name, came
after me after school, and I used the only thing I had in my hand."  I
looked away, trying to get out of Mike's space.  "I had a pen, and I went
right for his neck."

            "Holy shit..."

            "He got better,' I said.  "But they kicked me out after that.
I...I guess I'm damaged goods.  I did counseling for a good two years, to
try and get out the pent up anger I had.  But...fuck, I stabbed a kid..."

            I couldn't help it.  I just lost it, and broke down crying
myself.  I soaked myself and my shirt with my tears, and sobbed until my
chest hurt.  There, he knew it all.  I was a freak, and a monster, and a
thug besides.  I hurt people, and I hurt them bad.  And now Mike knew.

            And he was still there.

            "Jonas,' he whispered to me.  "I'm not going to throw stones.
I'm the last person who should.  I'm...happy you told me."

            I shot him a look.  "What?"

            "You heard me, peasant," he said.  "I'm happy you told me that,
because it's something that's hurt you, and you trust me enough," he added,
blinking his eyes rapidly.  "Something like that won't make me stop loving
you."

            I sighed.  "Forgive me."

            "Already done," Mike said, before letting out a huge yawn.

            I smiled.  I wanted to chuckle, but I hurt too much from
crying.  "Now will you go sleep?"

            Mike nodded, and hit a button on the armrest on the bed, which
caused it to lower to the point where that barrier, among others, we no
longer between us.  He smiled at me, give me a light peck on the lips, and
lay down to sleep, with his head on my chest, his face towards mine.

            I chuckled, now.  "You're going to be stiff when you wake up."

            "So nothing has changed," he quipped, and beamed as I started
to stroke his hair.

            Within moments, he fell asleep, with the most peaceful smile in
his face.  I tried to fight it again, but the look was too much, and
eventually I fell asleep, with him on top of me.

                                         ***

            There was a short burst of light when I did wake up, with
Mike's head still on my chest, my love asleep.  "Wha?"

            Dani stood there, my Mom and Shane behind her, all of them with
beautific smiles on their faces.  "Oh, you two look so cute," Dani said,
red curls bouncing in amusement.

            "Take a picture," I said, as Mike started to stir.  "It'll last
longer."

            Dani smirked triumphantly, and held up her digital camera.
"Done and done," she said.  "I've been meaning to do a website for months."

            "Oh, lucky me..."

-End Chapter 10-