Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2009 08:54:55 -0400
From: Sean E <ekidky@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Bully and the Bullied - Part 7

DISCLAIMER: I won't say anything more than just the usual - if you
shouldn't be reading this, then don't get caught!  This is a short story
that involves boys who are coming-of-age, containing things that boys get
into, including sexual situations, feelings, etc.  It is my first attempt
at fiction, having written only one other series based on my personal
experiences growing up, titled "Life's Road of Discoveries" (also found
here on Nifty in the Young-Friends section, posted early in 2008).  This
series has no basis in truth, whereas all characters and situations are
fictional.  Any resemblance in real life is purely coincidental.  The era
is based in the mid-1970's.

This story will spread across 9 or 10 parts of varying lengths, and I hope
that those of you who take to it and read it through will enjoy it.  As
always, any feedback is welcome (to EKidKy@hotmail.com).

I sincerely hope you like it.  :o)


The Bully and the Bullied
Part Seven - When We Finally Meet...
------------------------------------

   "You can't be serious! No way!" he exclaimed, and then lowered his face
into his friends' ear, bringing his voice almost to a whisper, "No fucking
way did they do that! She's... I mean, she's like, -"

   "I know, she's the exact opposite of someone you'd expect anyone to go
for, you know?"  He scrunched his nose.  "Man, you really got to get your
ears fixed or cleaned out or something; you miss out on a whole lot of
stuff sometimes!" Thomas replied.

   Michael saddened.  "I know, man, I know... When did you hear all this?"

   "Today, she was sitting behind me at the next table in the lunchroom.
You saw them giggling and everything, her and Sherry what's-her-face."

   Michael wrinkled his nose.  "Sherry Pendleton?  So THATS's what you were
so wrapped up in!  Man! So... Derek and Christie, huh? I
mean... Christie..."

   Thomas let out a soft laugh.  "Yeah, I know.  What he saw in her I
wouldn't want to guess, you know?"  He made a face.  "I mean, she's SORT OF
pretty and all, but she is so, like..."

   Michael grinned.  "Yeah, I know, but I wouldn't want to do her either."
Leaning in as if conspiring, he whispered into his friend ear, "I'd rather
do you than her."

   Thomas choked and gasped, then sputtered into a series of giggles that
caused coughing mixed between gasps of air.  "Oh man, you wouldn't...!" he
barely was able to get out, before catching his friend's eye.  He saw a
look of both sincerity and amusement behind the look, which made him settle
back in a hurry.  "You would?" he asked, awed by the thought.  "You mean,
really?"  In the previous months they had learned about the particulars,
Thomas having a cousin who had one weekend given up what details he knew.
They had giggled hysterically when he passed along what he found out to his
friend, and both had agreed - at least at the time - it was just, well
weird.  But now...

   Michael scrunched up his nose as he fell back into the seat, waiting
until the bus started moving again.  Eventually he answered, still smiling.
"Only if you wanted to, I mean... I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want
to and stuff...  I trust you, remember? "

   The other boy nodded, smiling.  "Yeah, I know."  He thought about it for
a moment, looking out the bus window again, then grinned as he whispered,
"I dunno, I might would, maybe – but only if we could both do it
though."

   "Really?"

   "Yeah, really... I think I'd try anything at least once," he replied
grinning, still speaking almost in a whisper so that only the two of them
could converse.  "Just so long as like I said... you know... you and me,
like in both of us do it..."

   "Yeah, I know.  Holy crap!"  They both looked at each other before
bursting out in giggles. Neither said anything afterwards for a while,
instead both watching the scenery roll by outside.  The weather had turned
considerably warmer as of late, even though there was still a week to go
before the official start of spring.  That didn't stop the countryside from
beginning to green up, though.  The mixed days of warm sunshine and rain
that blanketed the area was bringing much of the outdoors to life again as
it always did for this time of year.  Both of them watched in silence until
Thomas leaned in to whisper in his once again.  "What are you thinking
about?"

   Michael looked at him, raising an eyebrow as he so characteristically
did in that cool, calculated way of his. "Do you really, REALLY want to
know?" he whispered, grinning wickedly.

   Puzzled at first by the tone, Thomas figured what the heck, nodding and
wondering what was conspiring in his friends head.  Michael pulled the
jacket tied around his waist looser and casually draped it a little more
over his lap.  Glancing around, he saw no one was really near enough to pay
any attention to them, so he took his friends' hand and pulled it under the
cover of his jacket, placing it directly on his crotch.  At first Thomas
gave a start when he realized what his friend was doing, but after assuring
himself by glancing around somewhat, he settled in and very firmly gave the
jeans a gentle probing and squeeze as he outlined the hardened shape
inside.  He could feel his friend's swollen member underneath, and he could
have swore it was bigger than before, but figured the layers of cloth and
materials probably exaggerated the size.  Michael continued to look out the
window, but as he lay his head back against the seat, he took his own hand
and covered his friends.  Pressing down on top so that his friend's fingers
would probe harder, it gave him a momentary thrill.  Thomas gently squeezed
and felt around for a minute or more, but eventually pulled back for fear
of getting caught.  Still the two made eye contact and exchanged a knowing
look.  In a low voice, he whispered "Shit man, you're harder than a rock!"
When the other just grinned, he laughed.  "MMaannn... what you won't do to
get me to feel you up!"  That brought both of them up laughing out loud
this time, and they had to settle back into the seat to recover.

   Michael grinned, and then laid his head backwards on the seat.  "Thomas,
can I ask you something?"  When the other boy nodded, he continued, in a
hushed voice so that only the two of them could hear.  "Do you, like, get
as horny as I do? I mean, honest?"

   Thomas grinned then leaned in again to whisper.  "Heck yeah, sometimes
probably worse!"

   "Really?"

   "MM hmmm...  Let me ask you something?"  When the other nodded, he
continued whispering as soft as he could, "Do you like, jack off a lot?"

   Michael made a face.  "Oh, only maybe, I dunno... twice a day?"

   Thomas sputtered.  "You're kidding me, right?"  When Michael grinned and
shook his head, he grinned back.  "Man, that's about how much I do it, too!
Except -" He hesitated, thinking about it a moment.  "You know, back after
everything started happening, I didn't do it for a long time.  But then..."

   "Yeah, I know, and then things started changing again - for better.
Same for me Thomas, I didn't do it for a long time then either, and now,
it's like I feel horny almost all the time and stuff."

   "I do too, sometimes. I don't know about you, but I keep hoping we can
get together again - you know, without our mom's..."  He let the thought
trail off their, both boys smiling as they understood what was implied.  In
the last month or more, they had been getting together a lot more, thanks
to their Mom's becoming closer friends.  After the Super Bowl game that
night, the coming weeks found other "dates" happening with more frequency,
some planned while others more of a surprise.  At first they seemed to
magically meet up in stores and end up going out for dinner afterwards, but
then came a night they met at the movies, and still another where they got
together and went bowling.  The boys had a blast, which both women seem to
take some level of satisfaction in.  It was getting both Linda and Thomas
away from their controlling in-laws, and at the same time it was building a
lasting relationship between the mothers that would no doubt endure a
lifetime.

   At one point Michael swallowed hard before returning his gaze outside.
They were not far from home now, and only had moments to go.  "I know, I
wish we could, too..."  He paused.  "Right now I just want to ... errggg!"
He grabbed his own crotch underneath the jacket to squeeze, pushing down
inside and giving Thomas a visual idea as to what he meant.

   The other boy giggled and nodded, then whispered "I know, you done said
you wanted to 'F' me, so its GOT to be bad!" Turning again he looked away
and added, "Stop, I'm getting horny now, and I've got to get off in a
minute!  And I can't go out in front of Grams with a boner!"

   Michael sighed, and then relented.  "I'm sorry bro, I guess I shouldn't
have started all this..."

   Thomas kicked him with his free foot, making his friend gasp.  Leaning
in close again, he whispered "Shut up!"  He looked at his friend with a
bemused look.  "Besides, what do I have to do to get you to feel me up?"

   Michael grinned wickedly.  "Nothing, just say the word is all..."

   "Good, I'll remember that! So right now shut up and quit feeling sorry
before we both get in trouble!"

   Michael smirked, then sat back and watched as another kid exited the
bus.  His mood changed though as he sighed, remembering something.
"Thomas?"

   "Hmmm?"

   "Mom is asking questions again, about yeah, you-know-what..."  When the
other didn't respond, he scrunched his nose again.  "I mean, I promised you
I would keep quiet, and I have - honest!  I mean, I haven't told her
anything, but bro...  I don't like lying to her, you know?"  He stared at
his friend, a hint of frustration seeping through him as he continued.  "I
can hide the stuff between us, you know that, because that's us, nobody
else; but man, this is something that's just bigger Thomas.  I don't like
lying about something that's hurting you like this, and... and..."  He
trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

   Thomas turned his gaze out the window and sat silently for a few
moments.  He knew what he was asking his best friend to do, and knew inside
it had to be tearing at him.  "I know Mike, okay?  Really, I do.  Look, I
promise, you can tell her soon, just... Not now, okay?"

   "But he's hurting you Thomas, I mean, I saw your face this morning..."

   "I know Mike, but it wasn't THAT bad."  Seeing the pleading look, he
reached out and grasped his friends' hand, still underneath the edge of the
jacket.  "Just - not now, okay?  I mean, I'm asking you a lot and I know
it, but - just not now."  He thought about it a second.  "I promise you can
tell her soon if you want, or if it will make you feel better I'll tell
both our moms, okay?"

   Clearly unhappy, Michael relented as the bus approached Thomas's
driveway.  "Okay," he half-smiled, which Thomas returned as he stood up and
made his way forward.  As Michael watched his friend get off the bus, he
had an uneasy feeling in his stomach.  Thomas was beginning to get on the
bus more often with those tell-tale red faces, always on one side.
Although his friend wouldn't admit it, he suspect that wasn't the only
place he was being roughed up either.  There had been a few times he caught
his friend grimacing when sitting down, or shifting in the bus seat.  To
Michael, it seemed his friend tried to hide it more and more but with only
limited success.  Most of the time the red marks on his face would clear
within a few minutes, but Michael knew what they really represented.  His
friend was being slapped and bullied by grandparents who were frustrated,
even aggravated, at their daughter-in-laws' new attitude toward them.  When
Michael asked his friend time and again if anything else was happening,
Thomas would only shrugged his shoulders, but it was that action that only
further frightened Michael to no end.  He couldn't understand why Thomas
was holding back, especially when he knew it was wrong.  There had to be a
reason, so for the present, Michael kept his promise, like it or not.

   Although he was only thirteen, he had learned a lot in recent months
about abuse, and he knew just enough of the basics that he feared his
friend was in trouble.  Because of the way Thomas's mom was asserting their
new independence, their new outings had been met with a mixture of
attitudes at home.  Michael knew that Thomas was being queried at every
chance he got alone with his grandparents, and that was not good.  His
friend admitted to him that his grandparents kept asking questions, wanting
to know where he and his mother disappeared to so much, who was she dating,
what were they doing, and other things.

   Michael sighed as he stood up to get off the bus.  He had known Thomas
was lying, and normally that might have hurt him but this was one instance
he could forgive his friend.  He felt Thomas was hiding something he did
not want the world to know about yet, and with all the trust they had for
one another, Michael figured if Thomas could not tell him about it, then
well - he just couldn't tell anyone.  He hoped that was the case anyway. It
was everything Michael could do to keep from wanting to reach out and try
and protect him in some way.  He glanced back down the road in the
direction of the other boy's house, wishing he could just be sure it really
was okay.  He couldn't though, and the feeling in his stomach burned even
more.  Only moments before the two had been talking of things teenage boys
get into about girls, other kids, sex and everything - and he was happy for
that.  He still believed in his friend and it was pretty obvious Thomas
felt the same way.

   If just the uneasiness seeping over him would go away...

   - + - + - + -

   Jeremy Riddle had not been to school for almost a week, causing his
academics to precariously reach the verge of failing for the year.  In the
past, he had missed school two or three days at a time, but had
miraculously been able to side step the guillotine and catch up in his
work.  At first the teachers were all resistant, but as the year had
progressed they noted something fundamentally changed about the boy: he was
actually doing better - much better - in school overall.  Certainly not an
A-student, but one who once balanced a 'D'-average had suddenly improved to
mostly B's, with even an occasional A thrown into the mix.

   It was because of this marked improvement that the school officials and
guidance counselor had let some of the absences slide, instead looking the
other way when it came to meeting the state's normal requirements.  Jeremy
unknowingly helped as well by providing notes supposedly from home or from
the doctor's office.  They always gave varying reasons for his absence:
death in the family, illness or the like.  They didn't know, however, that
Jeremy was providing the forged paperwork on his own.  Once, while actually
visiting a health clinic in town years before, Jeremy had quietly lifted
one of the clinic's school excuse pads and brought it home.  After a little
practice, he was able to forge handwriting other than his own.  Since that
time he had succeeded in convincing school personnel the contents were
authentic.

   Still, this time was a little different than those before.  Jeremy had
been absent almost the entire week.  It still didn't raise too many
concerns with the administrative personnel, but had they been more alert
the outcome might not have been as alarming.  Unknown to them, for the
better part of the week Jeremy had been in his bed, practically unable to
move.  His father had been waiting for him that evening in a black, almost
sinister mood, accompanied by his already drunken state.  Jeremy had
recognized it at once after entering the doorway, having seen it now so
many times before.  He made a desperate attempt to get away, and almost
succeeded.  However, the old man had been too quick for him, and as such
this time was even more violent than ever before.  After being whipped and
beaten repeatedly for what the old man claimed was his attempts to run
away, the man proceeded as he had done before on many occasions.

   Only this time, it had hurt - far worse than it ever had before.  Jeremy
had screamed after the old man unloaded his own seed into the boy as he
usually did, but even more so with what happened afterwards. The man not
only raped him again, but afterwards brought out some sort of unknown metal
object from somewhere.  Repeatedly the man rammed the object up and inside
Jeremy hard, taking a sadistic pleasure as he ignored the kids' unanswered
cries begging to stop.  Jeremy was too weakened from the ordeal to fight
back as the man continued until he became bored.  Then as if the pain and
injury wasn't enough, before he finished he rolled the boy over and drove
the object hard into his scrotum.

   After a blood-curling scream, Jeremy passed out unconscious at that
point.  He lay almost lifeless for two whole days, coming to at times to
the stillness of the empty house.  When he was finally able to move, he was
covered in sweat, and smelled from the stench of urine in the bed covers
and mattress - a byproduct of his inability to get to the bathroom.  The
old man had disappeared during the time without a word, and when Jeremy was
finally able to collect his senses, he realized the blessing at having him
gone.  Although he knew the elder Riddle was probably out on another
drinking binge somewhere, it would not last forever.  Jeremy had to get out
of there, and fast.  If the man came back drunk, especially with Jeremy in
his weakened state, there was no telling what would happen.  So slowly and
painfully, he got to his feet.

    He looked down at the soiled sheets, drenched with the wetness he was
leaving behind.  Surprisingly, urine was the only thing he had left - that
and the blood that trickled between his legs.  Steeling himself, he ignored
it all as he found some underwear and, after a 10-minute struggle, was able
to get them on followed by some ragged pair of jeans.  His shirt, already
ripped with a jagged hole along the belly from the struggle, took another 5
minutes to shed and be replaced with something more solid.  It was the best
he trusted himself to do as the pain returned with each movement and step
he took making his way out.

   He slowly made down the hallway, passing the bathroom door, where he
paused.  He stunk, even to his own standards and he knew it.  At the moment
though the only thing that occupied his thoughts was that he had to get out
of there, had to get away as fast as he could.  He had no idea how much
time had already passed, but he felt the urgency somewhere within him.  His
stomach lurched with a sickness as he continued on down the hallway.  He
had had no food for days now, causing him to stop in a moment of weakness
to collect himself yet again when he reached the kitchen.  Passing the
table he saw an open box of cereal within reach and he grabbed at it,
delighted that it was at least half-full.  Resting against the far wall, he
reached in and withdrew a handful of the sugary-coated flakes and munched
them down dry.  His reward was a momentary clarity in vision, a sudden
surge in strength returning to him.  Looking down he saw his tennis shoes
and, better than he had expected, he was able slip his foot into each one
without much resistance.  Turning, he opened the door and stepped through
to the outside world, clutching the cereal box in one hand, and a walking
stick he picked up outside the door, something the old man had used often
when he trekked across the farm on foot.

   Jeremy started across the yard, noticing the sun was still high in the
evening sky. His steps were slow, but steady, the pain between his legs
searing at times, but at least manageable for the moment.  He felt the
warmness between his thighs, and he already knew from previous experience
it was from the sweat and dried blood that was seeping there.  It did not
stop him though as he continued moving forward.  He knew where he had to
go, where his only hope of refuge would be that the old man had yet to
discover.  He only hoped he could make it.  With each step he took, it
moved him farther away from the hellish nightmare of his home.  Somehow, he
was determined it would no longer be called that to him.

   He would rather die than ever return...

   - + - + - + -

    Michael cruised down the road, sliding through the wind at a relaxing
speed.  He sat upright on the old bicycle, letting the breeze flow and cut
across him, flapping his lightweight jacket by his sides.  It smelled good,
the air fresh cool but not so cool as to keep anyone from enjoying the
outdoors.  It was only his third time this year that he was able to get out
on his bike, the days of March slowly reaching a level of warmth that
foretold of the spring that was coming.  He had already met Thomas once,
both of them sharing in the elation of being able to get away from home.
They had ridden all over the nearby countryside, exploring places where the
scenery was coming alive.  He had wished they could do it again this day,
but a dental appointment or something as such prevented Thomas from joining
him.

    After Michael arrived home, he knew his mother would be an hour or more
getting in.  After a quick snack, he left her a note saying he was just
going to ride around the neighborhood and back.  Then pulling his bike from
the backyard shed, he took off over the rise toward the roadway.  His
mother had warned him earlier that month she would let him loose, provided
he was at his utmost care in watching for traffic.  It both surprised and
thrilled Michael the trust she was putting in him now.  She told him as
long as he stayed on the back roads in the country he would be safe, but
made him promise to always have someone know where he was.  It simply
boiled down to if he was ever out, she didn't want to have to worry about
him.  And of course, the last requirement was one to be used of his best
judgment: he needed to be with a friend.  That was one message she made
plain as day - with an intended smile.  He knew this was another attempt at
the ladies trying to get the boys together, and the result was great as far
as they were concerned.  That night naturally erupted into more hugs and
whoops of laughter again.

    Michael continued down the road, free from the thoughts and pressures
of the day.  He pumped first one and then the other, each leg carrying him
faster across the blacktop.  He topped a rise and started down the other
side at a clip that gave his stomach a momentary tingle from the free fall.
There were no cars, no trucks or other vehicles to interrupt his journey,
and in the quietness he felt a thrill of victory.  It was him and the world
right now, with no one to judge or interrupt him; it was freedom only
disturbed by the sound of the air as it rushed by him.

    After some distance he slowed down, hesitating and thinking about where
he was.  Although not a great distance from home, he had traveled farther
than he had thought he would, and in the end he reached a curve in the road
and stopped.  He began feeling a little guilty for not paying better
attention to where he was, especially since he was alone.  With a huge sigh
he took one long look at the road ahead, and then relented to the idea that
traversing its length would have to wait for another day.  Balancing
himself carefully, he turned his bike to head back in the other direction,
pausing in the shade of a roadside tree to gaze back along the route he had
just taken.  He recognized it was not as bad as he feared; in the distance
he could see the top of Thomas's house, so he felt a little better.

    He happened to glance to the right at that moment, and he noticed in
the distance the old Stephenson place, run down and abandoned for years.
He and Thomas had visited the weekend before on their first trip out
together, turning up the gravel driveway that led several hundred feet off
the main road.  It had looked eerie to them both late that evening, even
almost spooky-like.  They rode around the yard a short distance before
leaving it, wondering about it and leaving Thomas determined to ask his
grandparents about it later.  What made Michael pause, however, was that he
noticed even from this distance that the front door was open.  'That's
odd,' he thought, distinctly remembering in their earlier visit how Thomas
had tried to open the door but instead found it boarded up.  The door had
been painted a stark white in color as well, which made it plainly visible
at any distance in the way it contrast the rest of the house.

    With curiosity getting the better of him, Michael started moving again
and turned into the driveway.  He moved slowly, hesitating as drew closer
to the old house, unsure why he was actually doing this other than for some
reason he felt like he was being drawn in.  The farther traversed the long
expanse he began to feel uneasy, uncertainty crossing his path more than
once.  At the head of the driveway just short of entering the yard, he
stopped and paused to look for any signs of movement.  The rest of the
house looked just as deserted as before.

    Silently cursing himself for not being able to hear better than he did,
he dropped his bike in the yard and slowly moved toward the open doorway.
A rustle from a nearby bush made him jump, nearly frightening him out of
his skin as a bird emerged and flew off.  His heart pounding again in his
ears, he again stopped to catch his breath and calm down, watching and
listen for any sign of activity inside.  It seemed nothing had changed, so
he slowly made his way onto the porch and took his first step across the
wooden planks beneath his feet.

    He peered inside and saw a ramshackle room.  The walls were mixed with
old, peeling wallpaper and faded paint.  A fireplace at the far end of the
room was soot covered and mired in filth.  The floor, like the porch, was
comprised of planks that had seen better days, but surprisingly looked
fairly sturdy.  He could see an inner doorway that led into what appeared
to be a hallway inside, and looking down he froze in his tracks: there in
the dust of the floor were clear signs of footsteps.  Again straining his
ears, he could hear no sounds coming from within.  He was just about to
reconcile the fact he was being jittery for nothing when he heard a very
soft, low-pitched moan.

    His stomach filled with butterflies yet again, instantly propelling an
uneasy fear deeper into his gut.  His imagination played with all sorts of
scenarios, least of was that of someone hurt, running from the law r worse.
While a part of him screamed to get out of there, he still hesitated,
thinking he may have been mistaken until it came forth yet again.  From
somewhere deeper in the house came a definite moan, this time carrying a
tone that was unmistakable: someone seemed hurt.  He cautiously crossed the
floor of the room, surprised that the boards did not give him way.  Looking
at his feet he saw the dust scatter as each step disturbed it, mixing with
the other staggered steps before him.  He reached the hallway and first
left, seeing another bare room that had once been a kitchen.  Turning his
head right, he saw the hallway was short, emptying at the end to three
doorways on each side.  He tiptoed forward and peered into one of them,
finding nothing out of the ordinary than the other rooms.  He stopped yet
again when he heard it once more, and this time he followed the sound into
the room breaking off his right.  Fear gripped him by the throat and heart,
his chest pounding loudly as at first he froze, then slowly stepped to the
doorway.

    With an audibly gasp, he looked about the room and the sight that lay
before him.  A single window to the outside world lit up the interior,
revealing a figure sprawled on what looked to be an old coat.  As Michael
peered closer, he suddenly realized who that figure belonged to and, seeing
nothing else in the room remotely disturbing, he hurriedly crossed the few
feet that separated them until he could kneel down next to Jeremy Riddle.
The older boy looked battered and bruised, curled into a fetal position on
his side and holding his knees tightly to his chest.  His eyes were closed,
his face taught, with his teeth chattering unevenly.  His face was pale,
and his whole body reeked of an odd odor, one which Michael identified
after only seconds.  Glancing down, mostly because his curiosity wanted
some affirmation of the fact, he could see the boys jeans were soaked in
the crotch.  He peered closer until he realized it was not just filled with
piss, but also of a darkened stain that Michael recognized only too well.

    Michael tried to gently press the boy onto his back, out of his fetal
position.  "Jeremy?" he intoned softly when he felt resistance beneath his
hands.  Jeremy opened his eyes, startled fear behind them as he looked
wildly about before settling upon Michaels figure kneeling before him.  As
he focused and realized who it was, a look of comprehension crossed his
face and, upon seeing it, Michael tried again to get the boy to roll onto
his back.  Slowly and painfully, the bigger boy complied, watching Michaels
face intently.  As his face came into more direct lighting from the window,
Michael realized in an instant that the other kid was in worse shape than
he suspected.  Very carefully he started to run his hands around Jeremy's
torso, trying to examine what he could.  Holding up the loose shirt, he
peered at Jeremy's belly and upper chest and saw stains, but not anything
of major consequence.  Glancing at Jeremy first before he did it, Michael
actually felt lower from the bigger boys' waistline, slipping a couple of
fingers inside the waistband of the jeans and pulling them up and outward.
A fresh wave of odor from both dried urine and blood reached his nostrils.
The feel of the pants were soaked, and as he peered at just the top of the
area he saw a deep discoloration that had been left behind.

    "W-what a-are y-you do-doing here?  Wh-where did y-you come f-from?"
The voice was cracked and strained, the teeth chattering at times, and as
Michael felt throughout the others body, he realized the fever that was
there.  Michael shook his head, "I'll tell you later, right now it doesn't
matter."  He removed his jacket and used it to cover the older boy's
mid-section.  He began running his hands up and down Jeremy's arms, using
the friction to try and warm the other kid somewhat.  he was unsure what to
do other than the fact he knew when one had a fever, it usually made them
feel cold.  He wasn't sure, but he thought it was a good possibility Jeremy
might also be suffering in mild shock.

    With his jacket removed, it dawned on him how chilled it was in the
room.  He looked at the boy, but knew he would never be able to move the
bigger kid on his own.  "Jeremy, I have to get help," he said slowly. "Do
you understand me - I have to get you help!  I'll go get your Dad, okay?"

    At once a vice-like grip flew out from under underneath and gripped
Michaels' arm.  He was surprised at the strength displayed, but even more
at the cold rage that was now clearly placed in the older boys' face.  A
single word escaped his lips, soft but firm - with no question as to its
finality.  "No."

    Michael hesitated, thinking about the situation.  "Jeremy, I... we..."
Seeing the other figure still chattering from the cold, he slowly nodded,
acknowledging somewhere in the back of his mind that perhaps 'home' was
exactly what Jeremy needed to avoid.  He wanted to ask what had happened,
had hundreds of questions racking up in his mind, but Michael knew there
were more pressing things that need to be done.  "Listen, you're freezing,
and you're probably not far from shock if you're not already in it, okay?
Do you understand me?"  When the other boy slowly nodded, he continued.
"I- I don't know how to get you warm unless I- Unless I can get you
outside.  How bad are you hurt, can you walk any?  Any at all?"

    At first Jeremy just looked back at the younger boy, and the expression
changed to one of uncertainty.  He finally, albeit slowly, nodded and
whispered "If... if y-you h-help me... I- I'll t-try..."

    Michael nodded, climbing to his feet and carefully bending over to help
the older boy.  Jeremy slowly rolled to his side and positioned himself on
his knees with Michael's help.  The drawing his feet up underneath him, he
painfully stood up.  His face winced in the pain he felt, but the pressure
from the other boys' hands and body seemed to renew the strength within him
somewhat.  With a great deal of difficulty, the both of them worked until
Jeremy stood steady.  Michael immediately saw Riddles jeans begin slipping
to the floor, and as such propped the boy against the wall while he removed
his own belt.  Although the older boy was bigger, Michaels' belt happened
to be slightly larger than normal, so he easily worked it through the loops
of the other's jeans and closed it up for him.  With that task
accomplished, bit boys work their way into the hall with Jeremy leaning
heavily, taking small steps at first but eventually lengthening his stride
to a better pace.

    Michael watched with alarm at how the older kid walked and swayed,
realizing something was drastically wrong.  When Jeremy shuffled through
the doorway, he kept his knees closed together at times, and on occasion
Michael detected the boy was struggling to keep from crying out in pain.
As they crossed the living room though, the older boy began to do somewhat
better, having shaken the stiffness and weakness he had been nurturing
before.  When they reached the door to the outside, both paused as Jeremy
stopped to catch his breath, then stepped forward onto the porch and
eventually out into the yard.

    "D-do you h-have anything to e-eat?" the halting voice beside him
spoke.  It occurred to Michael he had not seen the older boy in school all
week, and parts of the puzzle were beginning to form an unpleasant picture
in his mind.  He silently helped the kid over to a nearby post and leaned
him against it before searching through his jacket pockets dwarfed still
over the boys' shoulders.  Thankfully the sun was as warm as he remembered
it, and the breeze was relatively still at the moment.  Jeremy stretched as
tall as he could stand and faced it, soaking in the rays as Michael found
what he was looking for.

    "Eat this Jermz," he told the kid, peeling the paper back on a candy
bar and shoving it into the other boy's hand.  Remaining by his side, he
helped keep the older boy steady while he watched him gulp the nourishment.
"What the hell happened to you, man?" he asked tentatively.

    Riddle, his eyes still closed, only shook his head.  "You d-don't
w-want to know."

    Michael let go a deep breath.  "You have to tell me at least one thing,
okay? At least, you've got to try and trust me."  Looking the other
squarely in the eyes, he watched for any signs of deceptiveness as he
voiced the strongest question on his mind: "Did your Dad do this to you?"

    Jeremy opened his eyes to stare at the other.  He did not want to
answer this question, for whatever else there was in the world, this was
his private hell and he knew it.  Never before had he opened up to a single
person about his home life, afraid if he ever did it would again open up
the torment and wrath he had already faced.  Yet something about this kid -
something about him emanated a different presence.  He had no idea why, but
he realized for a moment that all throughout the year, he had been around
Michael at different times, and the boy did not treat him as most did.
When most people cowered away or kissed ass to get into his inner circle,
this kid remained just outside, neutral to the world around him.  It was a
good thing for the most part, but what made it even more profound was the
Michael treated him also with a certain amount of respect.  Why, he did not
know, but for some reason it made him feel something.  In his weakened
state, he could not argue out of the fact even if he wanted to.  Only 2
years or so separated them both in age, but somehow he felt the younger kid
could have been on the same level as he was all their lives.

    Before answering he got to thinking back to a time when there was one
other kid he had almost broke down, had almost trusted once.  He thought of
Austin Mathews, and how that kid had always stuck by his side through the
best and worst of it all.  If anyone had ever come close to being a true
friend, it had been him - at least until things changed yet again.  Then
Jeremy had been afraid to trust him, to let him inside his world any.  It
seemed everyone he let get close to him ended up being destroyed or cut
down in some way.  People like his mother, many years before; the
counselors, whom ended up mocking him; the case handlers, who betrayed him
and called him a liar.  Even the school guidance counselor, who ended up
scoffing at him, accusing him of just wanting to stir up trouble with a
series of fabricated tales.  Worst of all, the one person he never wanted
to tell turned out to be the one he was forced with, and the ensuing years
of mistreatment told the story all for itself.

    When he looked at the younger kid before him now, something stirred
inside.  He was tired - tired of having to hide, tired of even living
anymore.  Still, he wasn't suicidal; he could not bring himself to face the
fact he was at the end of the game even now.  He was just tired of the
game, tired of having to face everything alone anymore, no matter the fact
of the people he was trying to protect, trying to hide.  Jeremy felt he was
dead to the world anyway, his life around him having been altered so much
in the last year or so.  That was what created the empathic feelings within
him the most, had made him start trying to change.  Now he felt he had
nowhere else to go.  He was weak, both physically and emotionally, and the
kid in front of him was honest, seemingly good.  As he studied Michael, he
thought to himself how cool it would have been to have lived at least in a
loving household, for someone to actually take care of you as he had seen
so many times.  He couldn't blame him, couldn't be mad at him or pick on
him for that fact.  He would have given anything to be just like him, or at
least have that kind of a safe haven to wrap around him, even if for just a
little while.

    "Jeremy?"  The voice cut through his thoughts as he came back to the
present.  Michael was still waiting patiently before him, and as he focused
on the younger kid once again, he heard the question followed softly with a
simple phrase, "Trust me, tell me..."  Jeremy smiled.  He did trust his
kid, although he did not know why.  A tear escaped his eye, something
Jeremy would have not thought possible, having shed so many over the last
few days.  He slowly nodded his head, his voice barely above a whisper when
he finally replied.  "Yes, my Dad did this."

    Michael had already expected the answer, but hearing it still caused
him to audibly gasp in shock.  Thinking quickly he looked around.  "Jeremy,
you're hurt man, I mean you're really, really hurt!  We have to get you out
of here before the sun goes down.  We've got to get you some help!"
Looking around, he took stock of where they were.  After looking at his
wristwatch, he came to a decision.  "I can't leave you man, I would be to
scared too, but I can't carry you either, not even on my bike.  Your pants
look like they have blood soaked in them, and I know you can't sit too
good."  He looked the other in the eye.  "The only thing I can think of
isn't great man, but... do you think you can walk a little?"

    "Where?"  Jeremy replied, his eyes closing and then opening again.

    Michael pointed over a rise.  "Um, that way I think.  It's a little
hill, but on the other side it goes down into Thomas's back yard.  It'll
cut the distance in half than us going down to the road and up.  And the
road, that wouldn't be good if we're trying to avoid your Dad, if he's out
looking for you anywhere.  Does that make sense?  You think you can walk
that way if I help you?"

    In answer, Jeremy slowly righted himself and stepped away from the
post, pulling Michael up close. He caught a whiff of odor from himself as
the other boy clung to him close, steadying him until they started
walking. "Sorry I stink so bad man," he whispered.

    Michael giggled.  "Man, if that's the worst I have to put up with, you
got it made."  He got serious.  "Jeremy?  This isn't going to be easy man,
don't think I don't know it, okay? Just... try, we'll go a little ways and
take a break or something, just lean on me man, we got to get you out of
here..."

    Jeremy just nodded, conserving his strength for the journey ahead.

    - + - + - + -

    Thomas had been home all of only 15 minutes when he heard a faint shout
from somewhere that sounded like his name.  Annoyed, at first he thought
one of his grandparents was calling for him.  "Can't they leave me alone
even long enough to change my damn clothes?" he said to himself.  They
always wanted this or that, too lazy to get off their butts and get
anything for themselves.  Or so he felt anyway.  He finished pulling a
fresh t-shirt over his head when he heard the noise a second time, but this
time it made him pause.  It wasn't from inside the house, he was sure, and
as he turned and looked out his bedroom window, he could see two figures
slowly entering the back yard.  He ran from his bedroom door as he
recognized who one of the figures was, tearing through the house to get
outside in his sock feet.

    He rounded the corner of the house, ignoring his grandmother screaming
after him, arriving to find none other than Michael and Jeremy Riddle
collapsed against the side of the house.  The sun was beginning to lower
over the horizon, casting a late afternoon eeriness around them.  Thomas
dropped down on all fours in front of his friend first, frantically
inquiring.  "Mike?  Mike! What's going on? What's wrong?"  He peered at the
other, older boy and noted that he seemed exhausted, his eyes closed, and
much of the color drained from his face.

    It took Michael a few seconds to catch his breath.  The walk had been
excruciatingly slow and painful for them both.  It was painful for Riddle
because of his weakened state, and painful for Michael because he had to
bear so much of the others weight to get him this far.  Between gasping
breaths, he turned to his friend.  "Is- Is your mother h-here? We- we need
your Mom Thomas - please?"

    Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Thomas scrambled to his
feet and ran at once back around the corner of the house.  He almost
collided headlong into his mother, who had been coming outside to see what
all the fuss was about from her mother-in-law.  Realizing who she was, he
grabbed her hand and started pulling.  "Mom! Come, quick!"

    All thoughts of admonishment were set aside as she hurried at her sons'
urgency.  As they approached, she saw the two boys lying next to each
other, both obviously exhausted in the way they had collapsed.  She went
first to Michael, kneeling down in front of him and giving him a cursory
review.  Michael, opening his eyes and seeing the older woman, was silently
thankful it wasn't one of the elderly grandparents.  "Mam... Jeremy... He's
hurt...  We got to get him help..."  Startled, she turned to the other kid
and saw in an instant the seriousness of the situation.  Biting her tongue
from questions that came to mind, she turned to her son.  "Get your shoes
and grab my purse and keys.  Meet me at the car, now go!"

    Thomas was gone in a flash. The woman moved to put herself next to
Riddle, sliding her arms underneath the boys' knees and back.  With a huge
grunt and effort, she lifted the kid whole into her arms.  Staggering to
gain her balance at first, she slowly but deliberately carried the older
boy toward the front of the house, showing surprising strength and
determinedness.  In moments she returned to find Michael had regained his
breath and was climbing to his feet.  Putting an arm underneath him, she
helped him walk as well until they were quickly joined by Thomas.  With one
on each side helping him move, they headed for the front yard.

    When Michael got to the car, he saw Jeremy already sitting lopsided in
the back seat.  He quickly joined the boy, scooting close and pulling him
in an effort to rest against himself, providing as much support as
possible.  Thomas and his mother hurriedly climbed into the front seat.  In
the distance, all three of them could hear Thomas's grandparents shrieking
and telling them to stop.  Linda ignored them, knowing it would cost
precious minutes to stop and explain everything to their satisfaction.  She
maneuvered the vehicle out onto the roadway and started heading toward
town.

    "Michael? Quick - will Carolyn be home by now?"

    He checked his watch.  "Yes Mam, she should be," he answered.  Nothing
more was said, although Thomas continued to turn and stare at both figures
in the back seat, his eyes full of questions.  Michael smiled at him and
subtly shook his head, begging his friend to wait.  Thomas smiled back,
acknowledging at least that got the message and remained quiet.

    A moment later the jeep made a rough turn into Michael driveway and
then bounced its way over the rise toward his house, shaking all of the
occupants inside.  When they topped the ridge, Michael saw his mother
outside near their car.  As they pulled up, Carolyn rushed to the window
before sighing with relief at seeing her son.  "Michael! You scared me half
to death young man -"

    "Mom! I'm okay, honest, but we need help!" Michael's plea met her full
force, and Carolyn immediately stopped, realizing something more was going
on.  Seeing her son supporting and steadying a boy who looked half dead in
the seat beside him caused her to run around and open the door on the
opposite side.  Without a word she reached in and took hold of Jeremy's
hand, feeling his wrist for a pulse.  She gave the boy a cursory
examination before speaking out loud.  "He has a high fever, pulse is
thread-y at best, and he's sweating profusely."  Looking at the others
briefly she commanded, "Wait here."  Withdrawing from the vehicle, she ran
into the house and returned in only seconds, pulling the door closed and
carrying both her purse and a blanket Michael recognized as having been on
the couch.  Entered the back seat as fast as she could, closing the door
behind her she addressed Linda with a single word: "Drive!"  Without
hesitation, the other woman put the vehicle in reverse and they began
working their way toward the road.

    Carolyn spread the heavy blanket over the boy, scooting in close and
sandwiching Jeremy between them.  "Sit close Mike, he needs warmth now no
matter how bad he smells."  With that Michael got as close as he could,
taking Jeremy's hand and arm underneath the blanket and holding it with his
own, trying to transfer what body heat he could.  In the past Michael had
encountered some times when he felt cold, and he remembered the things his
mother did for him to warm him up.  They drove quickly on the back roads
until they reached the main highway, at which Linda called out to everyone,
"Make sure your seat belts are on!"  She quickly accelerated and they flew
rapidly toward town.  From time to time, Carolyn was rubbing Jeremy's arms
and chaffing him, speaking in low tones as she held him.  "Stay with us
now, kiddo - don't give in... stay with us..."  Michael now, for the first
time, was getting scared for Jeremy.  Seeing his mother in the state of
alertness she was in made it all the more imperative they get to help as
soon as they could.

    Michael also began feeling sick in the pit of his stomach as he
starting thinking about their trek across the field.  Maybe it hadn't been
such a great idea after all.  He looked at Jeremy and saw what looked like
lifelessness, the boy now literally unconscious.  It had been much farther
than he had anticipated, and the walk had been exhausting.  Maybe he should
have left him and went for help, but he had been afraid to do that.  Did he
make a mistake, one that might cost Jeremy something more than he needed
right now?

    While Linda drove straight through to the other side of town, she did
so at an alarming speed.  Michael wanted to tell them a part of what had
happened, but found himself unable to do so being caught up in the moment
as he was.  No one pushed him, however, as they swerved precariously in
places to get around other vehicles and maneuver through traffic.  At the
rate they were traveling, it was only minutes before Linda finally slowed
and pulled into the emergency wing of the hospital, and up behind an
ambulance parked already at the entrance.  Putting the vehicle in park, she
saw two paramedics who happen to be closing the other vehicle up to leave.
Motioning them to come quickly, they approached and the three adults were
suddenly at Michael's side opening the door.  He carefully extracted
himself so that the others could get access to Jeremy, and stood just
outside watching as they gave the kid a cursory examination.  One of the
paramedics rushed away, returning only seconds later with a gurney, and
with the help of his partner they moved the sick kid onto the stretcher.
Carolyn remained at Jeremy's side throughout the ordeal and headed inside
with a rush.

    Linda sighed as Thomas joined Michael at his side and told the boys to
wait there for a moment.  Getting back into the vehicle, she backed away
and found a nearby parking place before exiting and rejoining them.  She
put an arm around each of the boys' shoulders and the three of them went
inside.  The emergency ward had few people in that day, and upon entering
the waiting area they found it almost empty.  Crossing to the vending
machines, Linda procured what change she could scrap up and then purchased
each boy a soda and a bag of chips to share and snack on.  She then guided
them to a remote corner of the room and eased them into the empty chairs
situated there.

    "Drink this," she said softly, handing the soda to Michael and waiting
until he popped the top and had swallowed a few gulps of the liquid.
Although lacking in nutritional value, it paid a proper respect to his
sudden desire for it, realizing how parched his throat had become.  Linda
patiently allowed the boy a brief respite, watching as her son sat down
close to his friend in silence, and they both waited until Michael was
better prepared.  Kneeling in the floor in front of him, she spoke firmly
but with a softness that exuded kindness.  "Now, start from the beginning
and tell me what happened. How did you find him? Where did you find him?
Who is he?"

    Taking a deep breath, Michael poured out everything he could think of.
He spoke of getting on the bike and riding, where he got to and how he
noticed the old house and had ridden down the driveway.  He told of finding
Jeremy inside, and of the shape he was in, and how he had come to the
decision he had to get the kid out of there.  When Linda interrupted,
inquiring why he had not just simply gone for help, Michael explained it
was in part because he was afraid to leave the bigger kid alone, but also
in part because Jeremy had held him steadfast.  When he explained the
remarks about the older boys' Dad, Linda drew in a sharp breath, becoming
extremely interested at hearing that.  Still, she waited until Michael
finished at how they decided to try and cross the field.  She sat back for
a moment and considered.  Although the distance wasn't really as great as
one might have thought, it was still considerable for someone to be in as
bad of shape as the boy was.  Yes, that probably contributed to an already
weakened state, she thought, and thus began to understand some of what was
happening.  Looking at the two boys, she smiled as reassuringly as she
could, then rose to her feet.  She had to let them know about this, and
afterwards she knew what else she had to do.

    She had to find her boss...

    - + - + - + -

    Austin Mathews walked through the doors at the front of the hospital,
entering no differently than he had each day for the past two weeks.
Barely glancing left or right, the boy walked toward the back of the room
and over to the elevator doors that stood there.  He had just gotten a
fresh haircut, and he looked surprisingly respectable for a change compared
to his usual choice of clothes.  Sporting a new pair of jeans, a bright
yellow polo shirt and a new pair tennis shoes given to him by his parents,
he looked entirely different.  Gone were the rough edges to him, at least
for the moment.

    As he walked, he felt a heaviness bearing down on his shoulders, a
feeling he thought he would have been used to by now given the time that
had passed.  Sighing, he waited until the elevator doors opened before
entering and pressing the button to go up.  Exiting on the fourth floor, he
turned right and went down a fairly long, dimly lit abandoned hallway until
he approached two double doors at the end.  Moving to the side, he lightly
punched the call button on the intercom hanging on the side wall.

    "Yes?" a faint, feminine voice announced from the small speaker.

    "Umm, this is Austin Mathews mam, I'd like to see my brother please?
Kevin Mathews?"

    "Just a moment," came an automated, almost mechanical reply.  Within
seconds he heard the familiar buzz coming from the doors, so he reached for
the handle and pulled back as the lock released, opening into yet another
hallway beyond.  He entered as the doors automatically closed behind him
and began walking to his right.  The walls here were just as blank and
devoid of features as the one he had just came from, other than at least
here there were doors that opened to patient rooms.  A passing nurse smiled
at him, making him smile in return.  It did nothing to ease the tension in
his stomach though as reached the end of the hallway and stopped at the
last door.  Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he slowly opened the
door only part of the way to peer inside as unobtrusively as he could.

    "It's open," he heard a voice speak from inside, so he thus continued
to push until he could enter and close it behind him.  As he turned towards
the bed in the room, he suddenly smiled.  There was Kevin, actually sitting
up for a change with his knees drawn to his chest, his arms encircling and
holding them.  The windowed room was dimly lit, giving the late hour of the
evening, but not so much that its features escaped him.  Austin saw the
restraints had been removed - the first of many positive signs in fact that
things were changing.  Nearby a tray containing a pitcher of water and a
cup sat ready, as well as a box of tissues.  As Austin drew nearer, he
noticed the garbage can at the head of the bed was filled with them, and
upon inspection he noticed his brother's eyes were puffed as if he had been
crying for a while.

    Austin sat at the foot of the bed, trying to sound casual.  "How's it
going Kev?" he asked quietly.

    His younger brother shrugged his shoulders at first, and then turned to
gaze into his brothers eyes. "Why do you even come here?" he asked.

    Austin smiled. "Because you're my brother, that's why."

    "So?"  There was a level of frustration, even defiance in the younger
man's voice.  "I'm just a reject, a pot-head now.  You don't need to be
around me anymore."

    "Who says?" returned a soft reply from the older brother.  He sighed,
but kept the smile on his face sincere.  "You want to disown me or
something?"

    Kevin scoffed. "I figured you would disown me."

    Austin giggled.  "No way.  You're stuck with me for life."

    Kevin, however, wasn't buying the lighter mood.  He stared out the
window at the sunset just beyond its reach, sitting quietly for a moment.
"You really should though.  Disown me, I mean."  Then in an almost whisper,
he added, "I'm sorry man, I'm really sorry."  Tears were in his eyes again,
uncontrollably leaking and trailing down his cheeks.

    Austin was so moved by the scene he let out another sigh of relief
before getting up and closing the distance between them.  He sat down next
to his brother and embraced him, holding him close.  Kevin lost it at that
point and could not avoid letting go, and the heart wrenching sobs that
escaped actually made his older brother tear up as well.  The two never had
the best of track records as far as brothers went, each living in their own
world apart from the other.  Although both their parents had tried
countless times to try and get the two to make amends, it had been thus
that way for years.  It wasn't for lack of effort, not on Austin's part at
least.  He had tried a few times to bury the seemingly invisible hatchet
between them several times but with no success.  Between his hanging within
Riddle's circle of friends, and Kevin building and hanging with his own
gang, the two of them just didn't seem to hit it off anywhere.  That is,
until Austin found out what his little brothers gang was doing.

    That day in the hallway he had been ready to pound on Riddle, that is
until he felt something being shoved inside his pocket.  Riddle had warned
him, told him cryptically he had done it to save the younger boy, that his
brother was about to be caught.  For some reason he let him get away before
demanding more details, that is until he actually stuck his hand and found
what was in his pocket.  Finding the bag of weed had made him stop short,
and all the pieces had fallen in place.

    That discovery had changed things dramatically, but ti was not that
even that drove him now.  Instead it was later, after Jeremy got on the bus
and found his brother had already went home earlier for some reason.  The
bus ride ahead made Austin test his patience ten-fold, keeping his temper
in check until he arrived home.  Kevin was already in enough trouble -
discovery of that bag would have not only suspended him, but could have
very well expelled him for the rest of the school year.  Austin wanted so
bad to get home and kick some sense into the little guy before things got
any worse.  At one point he paused and wondered how the kid had even gotten
home early to start with.  They didn't live far from the school, but yet it
would taken a considerable effort to get away early.  Unlike other times in
the past, when one got out early so did the other, and that puzzled him.
He sighed to himself, thinking there would be more than one question to
answer when he got the kid before him.

    Austin stepped off the bus and entered the house, calling aloud but
hearing no answer.  Annoyed he went up the hallway to the little buggers
room, finding the door closed.  He opened it and peered inside before
catching his breath at the site before him.  On the bed, the brat was
stretched out and shirtless, murmuring to himself.  His eyes were closed
and his whole body seemed to be convulsing, shaking uncontrollably.

    "Kevin!"  Austin rushed to the bed side and barely noticed a needle
laying there in time to keep from unintentionally sticking himself.  He
attempted to revive his brother but when he would not wake or respond, he
immediately called 911.  That fateful call changed all their lives
completely.  At times Austin could not help but feel an incredible burden
on his shoulders for one reason or another.  The drugs his brother had
gotten hold of appeared to be very bad stuff, and he had come to within an
inch of losing his life that afternoon.  Had Austin not arrived when he
did, then...

    When he thought back about that day, he could only really thank one
person for it all.  If Jeremy had not set him onto what was happening, if
Austin had not opened his eyes in as much fright as was there at that
moment, he may have never even bothered to check on the kid.  Their usual
thing was to not typically go home on most Friday afternoons.  Instead they
would run around with friends or something similar for hours at a time
since both their parents usually worked late.  If Austin had not been
upset, had not been *needing* to find his brother right then and there, it
was very likely he would have been found too late.

    Since then, Austin had taken a hard look at his life.  It was one thing
to bully the kids around at school, even drink an occasional beer when they
could get it - but drugs were a whole different story.  Their parents had
drilled into them hard, preaching about the adverse consequences drugs had
on people.  Since before kindergarten, they had had went to the extremes to
not only verbally educate their kids, but show them firsthand the results
of people who got involved with them.  Both he and his brother had visited
the clinics and places where drug addicts dried out and rehabilitated, and
at a young age he had been frightened at what he had seen.  As he grew
older, Austin also saw the effects first hand on some of their closest
friends; it had built a natural disgust within him to stay free of the
stuff, and he thought it had done the same for his brother.  He was wrong,
but even more so, it was his failure to see it that really hit home.  The
counselors that grilled him, his parents and social workers, all had asked
a multitude of questions that revealed the signs were there.  Austin had
only failed to realize and understand it.

    That ignorance and inaction had almost cost his brother his life.

    Austin shivered, a tear dropping from his own eyes onto the thin
hospital gown that partially wrapped around his little brother.  They both
sobbed quietly now, something Austin was so unused to.  It felt weird to
him, aside from the girls he had held and even groped with before. Here was
his own flesh and blood, but holding the kid felt awkward to him because
they had so rarely done it before.  As he engulfed him however, Austin
found he needed it in so many ways.  For the better part of the two weeks,
he had spent most of his time trying to convince his parents and everyone
involved he was clean and had never touched the stuff.  He remember the
look on his mothers face when just days before he finally saw the relief
there, the belief, and how she had hugged him so tightly afterwards.  He
had took the tests, more than once, to exonerate himself but the end meant
so much more knowing - no, *feeling* - he had re-earned his parents trust
yet again.

    Austin needed that hug for another reason too, though.  He felt he had
failed his brother, and it had become hard for him to see himself again as
ever living up to the standards he need to be now: a big brother for Kevin.
The first few days Kevin fought them all, displaying an unconventional rage
whenever Austin was around, shouting obscenities and curses that struck
deep.  Part of it was the after effects of the treatment, the "drying out"
so to speak; but also part of it was a rage of denial and contempt.  Austin
had never imagined life being so hard, so impassive as to drive Kevin to do
drugs to begin with, yet there was living proof of the nightmare his
brother was having to deal with, and the bitterness at having felt
betrayed.

    Only two days before had Kevin finally quieted.  As he had done each
day, Austin continued to visit, even if only briefly, to try and talk and
explain to his brother, to apologize for not being the kind of brother he
should have been.  Most days he couldn't even get close with Kevin boiling
into a rage of hatred, driving the older sibling away.  He had begun
holding up however, and for the better part of those two days he had just
sat and ignored anyone who visited him.  Before that Austin had wanted to
give up trying to visit, partially because of how it was wrenching his
heart apart, partly for Kevin's sake to help him stay calm.  The counselors
convinced him otherwise though; even just a brief appearance, as often as
he could, would go a long way in helping with the emotional recovery his
brother was going to face.  How true it had proven to be.  Right now, he
was holding his brother tight, and he actually felt his some of his own
emotional tension begin to seep away.  They remained there, giving in to
the thing boys just didn't do in his eyes.  He was learning though, that
sometimes it didn't matter, sometimes you just had to do it.

    It was some time before both quieted and Austin could finally pull his
head back and whisper into his brother's ear.  "I mean that Kev, you're
stuck with me, no matter what... as long as you'll forgive me for doing
what I had to do."

    That brought a fresh round of sobs from the smaller of the two as he
responded by hugging tighter.  Nothing more was said between them, and
eventually the sun began to disappear.  As nightfall settled in, Kevin lay
back on the bed, falling asleep in his brothers' arms.  The hospital gown
had crept up, exposing the nakedness of his brother underneath, but instead
of smirking at the site, Austin just gazed at the reality that his brother
was still young, and thankfully still had a life ahead of him.  He gently
reached down and fixed the gown, hiding the exposed groin and belly before
pulling up the sheet and blanket to keep him warm.  Kicking off his shoes,
Austin stretched out by his side, holding him as if for the very first
time.  Knowing their parents would be along in a little while, he thought
he would just stay and keep his little brother company.  His last thoughts
however, before he closed his eyes, were not of the younger Mathews.

    Instead, they were of another boy he knew he was going to have to
thank, in a big way, for saving not only his brother's life, but perhaps
his life too...

    - + - + - + -

	Stan had just come from one of the rooms off the lobby, looking to
turn in his visitors badge at the nurses' station.  Looking across the
still nearly empty waiting room, the driver was surprised to see two
familiar young gentlemen sitting in the corner, seemingly staring out the
window overlooking the parking lot.  Crossing the distance, he walked up to
them smiling.  "Hey thar, what brings you two boys here in a place like
dis?"

	Both Thomas and Michael looked at each other as they jumped to
their feet.  Taking turns, they filled the older man in on what had
transpired thus far, dispelling everything they knew.  As he listened the
driver shook his head, a worried expression crossing his features. "I
shoulda known..."  He sat mostly silent, interrupting very little other
than to clarify some obscure point.  He sat for a moment as they finished,
thinking about something before he letting go a low whistle.  "You got him
all the way from the old Stephenson place across THAT field?"

	"To Thomas's house, yeah," came Michael's reply.

	Stan grunted, obviously impressed.  "Yeah, I bet that was a journey
all right. That's a long ways young man, and that Riddle kid he ain't no
small critter either!"

	Michael cringed at those words, sitting back again. "I know,
but... I just didn't know what else to do, he wouldn't let me go get help."
He felt the words were weak; just an excuse to justify something that he
was no longer convinced was the right thing to do.  His voice dispelled the
disquiet and fear that had been crossing him as he continued. "I just hope
I didn't do the wrong thing Stan, I mean, he was bad - he was really bad
when I finally got him Thomas's house."

	The driver gazed down upon the boy, kindness in his eyes as he
observed the unease in the young man.  "Now, you'se listen to me.  You
probably did just fine Michael. I don't think a lot of kids would have had
the nerve to do what that to start with. Yeah, it may have been hard on the
two of you, but Riddle, he's a tough kid - tougher than most any of em I
ever known, you hear me?"

	Michael stopped to think about that before finally nodding.  Thomas
had been silent the whole time with no idea what to say to his friend, so
instead he just sat back and leaned into him.  It was a small gesture,
almost unnoticeable except for the fact it did provide some comfort, making
Michael smile probably for the first time that evening.  So far Michael had
carried this burden of helplessness on his own shoulders, and Thomas
understood it although his own feelings were mixed.  Regardless of what
Jeremy's past actions and reputation was, Thomas had to acknowledge what
Michael had been telling him all along: something had changed.  He only
wished now he had listened sooner.  He sighed as he glanced out the window
yet again. "Why does it take so long?" he asked to no one in particular.

	Stan only grunted.  "It's a hospital young'en. They ain't known for
speed here, but sometimes, sometimes..."  His voice trailed off for a
second before finishing.  "Heh, sometimes it just takes a body time to
heal, too."  The man settled back in a nearby seat.  He had nothing to do
that night, so he decided to keep the boys company for a little while.

	And help them wait...

	- + - + - + -

    When Austin Mathew's parents arrived at the hospital that evening, they
opened the door to a startling site.  There stretched upon the bed was not
just one son, but both.  Each had a serene expression about them, and at
once they knew that somehow the two had finally been able to sit for a
while, to talk without fighting.  As they entered the room, Kevin was the
first to open his eyes and, upon seeing his mother smiled at her knowingly.
Mr. Mathews came up behind her. All three were glancing at Austin, at first
amused but finding the two being at peace had a tranquil effect. Within
only a moment, Austin must have felt something because he started, waking
himself to see their smiles.

    They visited as a family for a little while, Kevin almost breaking down
yet again as he told his parents over and over how sorry he was.  Unlike
other evenings and episodes, Austin watched and stayed with his little
brother through it all this time, and all three of them could feel the
younger Mathews' sincerity.  His pleas for forgiveness came from his heart,
and before all was said and done, they all experienced a tearful reunion
that had not been seen in years.

    When Austin finally did rise from the bed, they made their preparations
to go.  Kevin looked better, actually more alert than he had in days.  Not
only was he smiling, but in a totally uncharacteristic way, he was cutting
up and interacting with them in a positive light.  Austin promised to be
back if he wanted, and Kevin actually grabbed his brothers' arm and told
him "If it's a maybe, then you're not going.  But if you promise, I'll wait
for you."  Although confused by the words at first, Austin smiled as their
meaning sunk in.  Kevin was not the strongest kid at expressing things or
feelings, but most of the time he and his brother understood the intention
without trouble.  It actually made him feel good his brother wanted him
there, especially after everything that had transpired in the last few
weeks.  He thought he might ask the nurses about it on the way out, then if
his parents approved maybe he would come back for the night as a surprise.

    At last they left, walking the hallway in silence, Mrs. Mathews arm
draped around her son's shoulder.  "He loves you, you know," smiling as she
prodded Austin along.

    "I know Mom, I know," he responded in the way most boys do when it came
to expressions such as this. He offered nothing more, thinking that what
happened between him and his brother was theirs to keep - that nobody else
needed to know or share it.  As they started to the elevators, Mr. Mathews
kept walking, taking Austin farther down the hallway.  Austin looked up,
the curiosity obvious.

    "We had to park in the emergency room parking lot," the man laughed at
the raised eyebrow.  He wondered where each of his kids got that from,
because neither he nor his wife could make that simple gesture as grand as
the two boys.

    "Oh!" was the only reply as they continued down to another set of
elevators and then stepped inside, heading to the ground floor.  When they
exited, they were right across from two boys whom, after a second glance,
seemed awfully familiar to him.  He stopped, causing his parents to stop,
and turned to one.  "Aren't you that kid, from the bus...?" he asked,
addressing Thomas.

    Thomas rolled his eyes, annoyed at the question, but since there were
obviously parents and adults present, he answered for their benefit.
"YYeessss..."  At first he didn't recognize the other kid because of the
haircut and more presentable clothes, but it finally dawned on him who was
speaking.  This kid had ridden their bus before, going home with Jeremy a
few times in the past.

    Reading body language had been one of Austin's specialties over the
years, and if ever there was a clear sign of despair, it was presented
before him now.  He gave the best disarming smile he could muster with
sincerity, holding up a hand.  "It's cool man, I just thought I recognized
you, that's all.  I've been on your bus a few times."  He stuck out his
hand.  "I'm Austin, Austin Mathews."

    Thomas accepted the handshake, awkward as it seemed. "Thomas, this is
Michael, and that's our bus driver Stan."

    "Oh yeah, I remember you," he smiled and extended his hand to the
driver as well, causing him to blink and grin at the formality of it all.
Nodding acknowledgement, the man spoke up.  "You used to git off the bus
with Riddle, right?  Did you know he's in here?"

    Austin blinked.  "Huh?  What do you mean, in here? You mean, here in
the emergency room?"  Looking at the three of them, he added.  "Is that why
you three are here?  Did something happen?"

    As the driver and boys nodded their heads, Mr. Mathews back-stepped
slightly so that he joined the conversation more directly.  "Riddle?  You
mean Jeremy Riddle is in here?  What happened?"

    At this they hesitated.  Thomas and Michael both were wise enough to
realize they should be careful how much is said in the open until more was
discovered and understood about the situation.  Sensing their implied
silence along similar reasons, Stan cleared his throat.  "Well, seems the
boy was roughed over some way, they got him back there checking him out
now."

    Austin furrowed his brows. "But, Jeremy hasn't been in any fights more
than a scuffle since...."

    Stan agreed.  "I knows what you mean, but we don't know a lot right
now, probably won't fer a while."

    Austin studied the man's face then turned and glanced at the younger
boys and stopped.  Their faces reflected something else, and instantly he
knew there was more to it.  Turning to his parents, Austin asked them, "Can
I stay a while Mom, Dad?  In fact, let me stay the night, I'll go up to
Kev's room after while if they'll let me."

    "I don't know..." started Mrs. Mathews, unsure of the proposal. "They
may not want you sticking around?  You know what they told us before..."

    "I know Mom, but it'll be okay.  If I can't stay I'll get a ride home
or call you or something.  Please?  I don't really feel like going out to
eat anyway, and I've got nothing else going down tonight... so please,
Dad?"

    The elder Mathews thought about it for a second, and then reached for
his wallet, taking out a ten-dollar bill and handing it over.  "Eat
something soon anyway, and if you need me to come get you, then call."  He
exchanged a smile with his son, relenting on the fact that this was a
different, empathic side they had seldom witnessed.  Both parents hugged
the boy and then proceeded out the door, leaving Austin with the group.

    Stan stretched as the other boys sat down in the nearby chairs.  "Tell
you boys what, I gots to call the better half." He paused and chuckled
seeing the confusion on their faces.  "The better half of the family is my
wife!  Ain't you youngens ever heard that before?"  They all laughed before
he continued.  "I'll go do that and see if we can find anything out
afterwards over there with the nurse, okay?"  After enthusiastic nods, he
walked off.

    Austin turned to the other boys afterwards.  "Okay, I uh, know you
don't know me, but..."

    Michael shook his head.  "He's bad, really bad, and Stan told the
truth, we don't really know what happened or how he is at the moment, other
than -" He took a deep breath, pausing before finishing.  "Other than he
wouldn't let us, let me I mean, take him home, like he was scared to go
back there."

    "Wait, home? He wouldn't go home?" The incredulity in his voice was
apparent, before he got a knowing looking.  "His Dad again, huh?  I know
they used to fight a lot."  Turning to Michael, he addressed the younger
man.  "You found him?  Where?"

    Michael nodded, and then filled him in on a few of the details
regarding the events of the evening.  Austin was thunderstruck at what he
heard.  He recalled something from a time long before, a mysterious quip
Jeremy had made during lunch one day.  Something about parents being
nothing more than - what was it he said?  Austin couldn't remember the
exact words, but somehow the illusion sprang forth as real. There was no
question, no hint of doubt in his mind about what drove home how bad it
really must have been.

    Both Michael and Thomas were thoughtful, mulling over the events with
unanswered questions filling them each.  Eventually Michael's thoughts
turned elsewhere.  "How come you're here?"

    Austin grimaced.  "My brother is in here, upstairs."

    "Really?  Kevin, isn't it?  What's he in here for?"  Thomas inquired.

    Austin hesitated before replying.  "He's here because in a way I put
him here, and because he needed to be here."  Seeing the puzzled looks, he
continued.  "Kevin got messed up in some drugs guys, and I caught him right
after he got hold of some bad stuff.  Actually, Jeremy caught him and told
me, that's how I come to find him when I did.  He's been in here trying to
recover from them for a couple of weeks now."

    "Upstairs? You mean, fourth floor, east wing?"  Michael asked quietly.

    Austin nodded.  "You know?"  When the other boy nodded, an
understanding crossed between them.  Austin cleared his throat.  "You guys
know Kevin?"  When the boys exchanged glances before nodding hesitantly,
Austin immediately caught the implied silence.  "Was he..."  He was afraid
to ask, already knowing the answer just by their looks.

    Michael sighed.  "I don't know a lot, okay? Honest, but... I've seen
him in the bathroom a few times, with some other guys, and they weren't
there for usual bathroom business, if you know what I mean."

    Austin sighed, looking through the window into the blackness that now
enveloped the landscape outside.  "Okay, I get the idea." Nothing more was
said as each turned back into the silence of waiting again.

    - + - + - + -

    Linda returned to the waiting room a short while later and found all
three boys quietly sitting where she had left them.  Glancing at her watch,
she saw that it was much later than she had thought.  "You guys must be
starving," she said by way of announcement, crossing the floor and coming
up to them.  She noted the third boy and smiled, introducing herself.

    "How is he?  How's Jeremy?"  Michael asked as he saw Stan coming up
behind her.

    Taking a deep breath, she spoke quietly.  "The doctor thinks he is
going to be okay, at least physically.  Right now he is hooked up to all
kinds of IV's and tubes and monitors.  Evidently he has gone several days
without food and water, aside from being beaten really badly. He was
dehydrated and weak, but they're monitoring his recovery to build that back
up."  She glanced at the third boy and hesitated, unsure of his role or
relationship.

    Michael saved her the trouble, explaining that Austin had been a close
friend of Jeremy's for a long time.  She sized the boy up, but then nodded
accepting him.  "Well, he's in pretty bad shape right now, and they have
him sedated.  He's resting, and his vital signs are showing improvement.
Your Mom," she said, addressing Michael at that point, "is going to stay
with him through the night to keep an eye on the medications."

    "C-can we s-see him?" Michael asked, almost a whisper.

    Linda shook her head.  "Not tonight, he's not in a very pretty shape to
see anyone."

    "What do you mean?" Thomas asked.

    Linda looked at each boy carefully before answering.  "He has a lot of
bruises and welts and... other things right now."

    A look of understanding crossed Austin's face.  "He's been abused,
that's what you mean isn't it?"

    Surprised, Linda nodded.  "You know about it?"

    Austin slowly nodded.  "I never really *knew*, but I after hearing this
tonight and some other things in the past, I wouldn't put it past his old
man.  They didn't get along at all."

    Linda nodded. "Well, he's lost a lot of blood, a lot of it."  Michael
knew what she was implying, as he remembered the dark stains between
Jeremy's legs and crotch he had noted.  Clearing her throat, she continued.
"I've been talking to Sherriff Glen for the last hour or so.  Right now,
they have an APB out for Jeremy's father, wanting to bring him in for
questioning."  She turned to Michael again.  "He is going to want to talk
to you, probably in the morning, just to make sure we got all our facts
straight.  Don't be afraid of him, he's just trying to figure out the best
thing to do right now, and that means he has to find his dad and bring him
in for questioning."

    Michael nodded, so she stood up.  "It'll be sometime tomorrow before
they will even THINK about letting you guys in to see him, so there is no
use waiting around here.  Come on guys, Stan and I are going to get you
boys something to eat.  Do you want to join us -" she turned to Austin, not
quite remembering his name.

    He thought about it for a moment, then smiled.  "Can I come back here
afterwards?  I've got-" He hesitated only slightly. "I've got family
upstairs."

    Linda nodded her head.  "Stan knows a place just down the street here a
little ways, so we won't be going far.  And yes I'm sure one of us will be
glad to drop you off back here," she added with Stan nodding silently
behind her.  She looked at the two younger boys. "I'm going to get you two
home afterwards so you can get some sleep before coming back up here in the
morning, too."

    They began heading off toward the exit, chatting in much lighter
tones...

    - + - + - + -

    Later that night, both Thomas and Michael were lying in bed next to
each other staring at the ceiling.  The moon was outside was high and
bright, casting eerie shadows around the room.  Linda had dropped them both
off at Michael's house, telling Thomas to behave and for them not to stay
up long as it was already quite late.  He was surprised, until he
understood she was going back up to the hospital a while.  Secretly, Linda
actually just did not want to leave her son alone with his grandparents
right now until things settled down.

    Both boys were ecstatic at the turn of events.  As they undressed
upstairs to their briefs, Michael pulled a t-shirt from the drawer to loan
to his friend as he donned one himself.  They climbed in the bed, Michael
turning his back to his friend and spooning in close to be held.  Thomas
obliged, remembering how it had all been so great months before.  Both boys
were exhausted, the adrenaline finally having seeped away their strength.
As Thomas held the other boy, he pulled him in close and nuzzled the back
of his neck.

    "Mike?"

    "Yeah?" returned the whispered reply.

    "I'm sorry man, I wish I had listened to you before now, about him."

    Michael shrugged his shoulders.  "Not your fault man, and heck, I
didn't really know either, I just felt something was different, that's
all."

    "Yeah but, you're good at that, you know? Good at reading people,
figuring them out and stuff."  He giggled.  "I mean, look what you did for
me?"

    Michael smiled, turning and looking back into the others eyes.  "Yeah,
but you're my bro now, you know?"  He wiggled in yet tighter, making Thomas
giggle as he ground his crotch up firm.

    "Careful Mike, I might get horny," he whisper mischeviously.

    "I don't care Thomas, I trust you, remember?"

    "Yeah, I know."  He hugged his friend tightly, thankful at that moment
to just be holding him again.  Neither said anything more, as they both
quietly slipped off to sleep in each other's arms...


(To be continued...)

---------------------------------

Comments to: EKidKy@hotmail.com
Other series by me:
   - Life's Road of Discoveries
     (www.Nifty.org, Gay-Young Friends section, Early 2008)
   - Terry and Sam - Short Story, Holiday Christmas Collaboration w/Ruwen
     (www.Nifty.org, Gay-No Sex section, Late 2008)