Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2003 14:04:37 -0700
From: Chad Cougar <ataq_katt@hotmail.com>
Subject: Wild West 2

I am stunned by the high number of emails I've received and I am grateful to
all for the kind words and ideas.  This story has been a blast to write, but
is painful for all of us as well.  There was an article on line about a
group that had committed to tearing down any monument that idiot reverend
puts up in Wyoming.  To them I say Godspeed and don't spare the horses.  Why
our society, supposedly so enlightened, can allow such an abomination is
beyond me.  I hope if they need help they get a hold of me.

Thank you all again,

Ataq_katt@hotmail.com


The Wild West 2:


	Dwight Morgan pulled his son's truck up next to his and looked out at the
array of vehicles that were parked in the normally quiet meadow and shook
his head.  There were almost a dozen sheriff's vehicles and assorted
personal trucks, and what looked like a hundred men moving around.  "Jesus
Christ would you look at this mess."  He said to Kenny Markham who was
sitting in the passenger seat.  "Looks like half the search and rescue is
out here."

	Kenny, a young man of twenty eight, had worked for the Morgans for three
years.  He adjusted his ball cap and looked out the window at the mass of
confusion.  "There's more vehicles up on the ridge."  He pointed.  "Might
all be out here."

	Dwight parked near his truck and the horse trailer.  "Kenny, get them
horses in the trailer after you hitch up.  I'm going to find the boys and
get them headed home in this truck."  He opened the door and stepped out.
"The deputy that called the house said the media heard about this so go in
the back way from Rocket Road."  The kid nodded and headed off and Dwight
walked up the hill towards some faces he knew.

	"Afternoon, Dwight."  Sheriff Blake Frost looked up from the reports he had
spread out on the hood of one of the cruisers and offered a short salute to
the brim of his hat.  Frost was a Tall man of thirty eight, young for his
post by historical standards, and had intense eyes.  He folded his arms and
leaned against the car.  "Your boys finished their statements.  They were
going to check on their horses."

	"I'm hoping to get them home before the circus starts."  Dwight put his
hands in his pants pockets.

	Frost shook his head.  "Sorry, we already got a call from Bentley's.
Someone tipped the reporters off, they're at both of your houses.  I sent
people to keep `em back, but you'll have a hell of a time getting there."

	"I'm sending Brock back through the back gate.  No one knows its there."
Dwight held his hand out to shake.  "If you need horses or anything for the
search you say something."

	"I appreciate it.  Tell the boys how proud we are.  They done good."  Frost
saluted again and turned back to what he was doing.

	Dwight headed over to the horse trailer and found his brother watching the
boys.  Dave looked tired, and Brock and Tony were sitting on one of the four
wheelers.  Tony had blood on his shirt and pants and Brock was sitting
behind him with his arms around Tony's waist more or less holding him up.
They looked like hell.

	"They found Trevor Yates."  Dave said quietly, looking up at his older
brother.  "Died of exposure."  Tony seemed to flinch and Brock tightened his
grip.

	"The news said Cade was in surgery but it looked good."  Dwight offered,
resting his hand on Brock's shoulder.  "Boys, the Sheriff said you can go
home.  I brought Kenny to help me with the horses.  Did you get the deer
down?"  Brock pointed towards his dad's truck and Dwight turned to see two
nice looking deer dressed out and waiting to be loaded.  One was a four
point.  "Damn good sized one there.  Who got it?"

	"Tony."  Brock said without much enthusiasm.  "C'mon, man, let's go."  He
helped Tony stand up uneasily from the bike.

	"Go in the back gate, Brock.  The reporters are out front.  I don't think
they know about the back way."  Dwight tried to sound upbeat for them.  They
looked so damned miserable.  Brock nodded and all but carried Tony towards
his truck.  "They look like a mile of bad road."  He said to Dave.

	"It was pretty bad, Dee.  They done a damn fine job."  Dave took his hat
off and ran his hand through his hair.  "You wouldn't believe it.  Someone
beat those two boys so god damn bad me and you wouldn't have survived it."
He put his hat back on and sat on the machine.  "Tore the god damn camp
apart, stripped those kids. Beat `em, cut `em, and left `em to die."

	"I don't get it.  What the hell for?"  Dwight leaned on the machine.

	"Guess they was gay.  Cade had `fag' cut into his chest with a huntin'
knife."  Dave scrubbed his face with his hands.  "Wayne Yates' boy had his
arms and legs cut up like confetti."

	"I don't particularly like their lifestyle, but it don't excuse doin' that
to `em."  Dwight said shaking his head.

	"Dee, you can't come up with an excuse for what was done to those two
sixteen year old boys."  Dave said angrily.  "I don't give a god damn if
they was fuckin' on the court house lawn.  That was a butcher job, plain and
simple."

	Dwight nodded and patted his brother on the arm.  "I'm gonna get the hell
outa here.  I'll see you in the morning for coffee.  I want to get your
horses shod."  Dave nodded and waved as he walked off.  He looked up and
Brock waved to him from his truck as they pulled out.  He went over to help
with the horses.



	"Mom, we're okay."  Brock said into his cell phone.  "We're coming home
now.  I'm almost to Snowville."  He listened for a few seconds, glancing
over at Tony.  Tony had been silent so far and was looking out the side
window.  "I'm bringing Tony home to our place.  The deputies said that there
were reporters in front of both places.  There isn't a back way into
Tony's."  He reached over and took Tony's hand, making him jump.  "See you
in about an hour."  He turned off the phone and offered it to Tony.  "Want
to phone home, ET?"

	Tony shook his head and gave Brock's hand a squeeze and then pulled his
away.  "I'll call `em from the house."

	Brock nodded.  He was really worried about Tony but couldn't think of
anything to say.  They rode in silence most of the way home.  Tony got out
and opened the back gate which was thankfully deserted.  After Brock drove
through he closed it and climbed back in the truck.  Several minutes later
they pulled up behind the house.  It was almost dark and they could easily
see several vehicles parked along the side of the road in front of the
house.  They went in through the mud room off the kitchen.

	"Oh thank God."  Colleen came through the door and kissed them both.  "I've
been a nervous wreck because of you two!"  She noticed the blood on Tony and
gasped.  "My God, is that from Cade Daines?"  She was horrified.  Tony
nodded.  "Brock, go get a robe out of your bedroom and bring it back quick.
Tony, honey, we'll have to put these clothes in a garbage bag to be burned.
You have clothes in your room, dear."  He stayed at the house often enough
that he'd taken over the guest room next to Brock's.

	Tony stuffed his clothes into the bag and put the robe on, then slid off
his underwear and put it in the bag, too.  Everything he'd had on was
ruined.  He closed the robe and followed Brock upstairs to shower.

	The main part of the house was over a hundred years old, and had belonged
to Brock's family since it was built.  Dwight had added on to the back with
four bedrooms up stairs and a master bedroom, den, and family room
downstairs.  The bedrooms were set up so that each two shared a bathroom.

	Brock opened the door to his room and stepped inside, waiting for Tony to
pass, and then closed the door.  Tony's room was the next door in the hall
or through the bathroom.  He immediately began shedding clothes and tossing
them towards the hamper by the door.  Tony sat in a chair at a small writing
desk.  "Are you going to talk to me?"  Brock asked, tossing his jeans with
the rest.  "I'm getting a little worried."  He pulled off his boxers and
took a terry shower wrap out of his dresser and fastened it around his hips.

	"I'm all fucked up, I'm sorry."  Tony said stonily.  "I don't know what to
say."

	Brock stopped with his hands on his hips, annoyed.  "Look, if you say
you're gay then you are, but that don't mean anything to me.  If someone
ever tried to hurt you they'd get the shit kicked out of them."

	Tony smiled slightly.  "I know.  I'm more worried about what you think."

	Brock shook his head and went into the bathroom.  "You know what I think."
He took out his trimmers and carefully touched up his razor line beard.  "Is
that why you're so quiet?"

	"Brock, you're minimizing shit.  I hate when you do that!"  Tony stood up
and went in to the shower.  He turned the water on to get hot.  "I got all
emotional on you and told you I was gay and you're like blowing it off!"  He
hung the robe on a hook and stepped into the shower.  God the hot water felt
good.

	"I don't like all this touchy feely shit and you know it."  Brock examined
his chin and put the trimmers away.  "What am I supposed to say?  I hate
you?  Get the fuck away from me?"

	"No, I wasn't trying to make you mad, dammit.  I know you, though.  I know
this is gonna bug you."  Tony said from the shower.  He scrubbed shampoo
into his hair.

	"Do you love me?"  Brock asked, folding his arms and leaning on the vanity.

	"Of course, you're my bud, my amigo."  Tony called from under the water.

	"No, Tony, do YOU love ME?  Is that why you told me you were gay?"  Brock
sighed and scratched his head.  Tony fumbled the soap out of his hands and
felt his heart begin to pound.  His eyes went wide and he looked through the
frosted glass at Brock's silhouette.  He swallowed hard, unable to think of
anything to say.  He was suddenly very afraid that this was going end of the
best friend he ever expected to have.  "Tony?"  Brock's voice came over the
open area at the top of the doors.  "I want you to tell me the truth."

	"Yes."  Tony said in defeat.  He rested his forehead against the tiles and
closed his eyes.  "I've known since I met you."  He turned off the water and
slid the door open enough to grab a towel.  Brock slid it the rest of the
way open and met his eyes.  Tony thought he was going to throw up.

	"You might have told me."  Brock said and pointed at the toilet.  "Sit
down."  Tony stepped out of the shower and Brock turned the water on and
stepped in, dropping his wrap on the floor.  "You didn't leave did you?"  He
called after he got his hair wet.

	"No."  Tony went to the sink and began brushing his teeth.

	"You must not think much of me if you think I'm the type to take a walk on
your ass after all this time."  Brock said loudly over the water.  "Far as I
can see nothing's really changed."

	Tony spit into the sink.  "I was scared, Brock.  Can you understand that?
You're like the fucking Marlboro Man, okay?  I was afraid to tell you. I
know you aren't afraid of anything but I didn't want to lose you."

	"I guess."  Brock rinsed his hair out and started with the soap.  It was so
familiar for them to be in the bathroom together that he never considered
being worried that Tony was looking at his ass.  Tony didn't look to bad
either when he was cowboy'd up...whoa!  Brock blinked as the soap ran into
his eyes and moved his face under the hard spray.  Where the hell had that
come from?

	"I'm going to get dressed."  Tony said and walked into his room.

	Brock rinsed and turned off the shower.  He stood there for several seconds
trying to organize his thoughts but it wasn't happening.  Without thinking
about it he reached out and took the same towel Tony used and began to dry
off, not realizing he'd done the same thing dozens of times before.  He
picked his wrap up and put it on and was about to toss the towel into his
hamper when it hit him.  They'd only used one towel, and always used one
towel.  He glanced at the vanity.  There was one razor, one can of shaving
cream, one stick of deodorant, and even just one toothbrush.  He leaned
against the door frame and put his hands over his face.  Did all friends use
each other's shit that way?

	They went down to watch TV, both dressed in t-shirts and boxers as was the
norm.  Colleen provided them with a large bowl of popcorn and left to do
laundry until the news came on.  They sat at opposite ends of the couch like
they always did.  Tusker, Brock's black lab, sat at the end of the couch and
caught the occasional kernel of corn that came his way.

	Tony was exhausted, and after the heat of the shower and relaxing a little
he was nodding off.  He tried to concentrate on the movie but it wasn't
happening.  He pulled a big quilt up around him and tried to keep his eyes
open.  Brock sat with his legs up on an ataman and wrapped in a quilt as
well.  He kept looking over at Tony, his mind cranking through his feelings.
  Finally when he saw Tony's head bob he reached over and pulled him over so
his head was resting on Brock's leg.  Tony immediately pulled his feet up on
the couch and settled.  Before long his breathing evened out.

	Brock tossed a kernel of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth and
then dropped several kernels on the floor for Tusker.  The dog cleaned them
up quickly and sat expectantly waiting for more.  Without realizing he was
doing it Brock began to gently stroke Tony's hair as he flipped through the
channels.

	Just before ten his mother came into the room and sat down in the recliner.
  "Have they said anything about Cade?"  She noticed Brock's attention to
Tony and shook her head.  It was amazing how close those boys were.

	"No."  Brock answered.  "All they said was that there were a hundred guys
out doing the search for Trevor and that it was being called off for the
night."  He handed the popcorn to her.  "Uncle Dave already told us the
found Trevor."

	The news came on finally, and the beating was the lead story.  Neither
spoke as the news anchor repeated the details that were known to the media.
Brock was silently pleased that he and Tony had been referred to only as two
local hunters.  The anchor cut to a person live out near the canyon that
interviewed the Sheriff, and the story wrapped up with a report that Cade
was out of surgery and was expected to recover.

	Broke felt the heat of anger rise into his face.  He used the remote to
turn the TV off and tossed it on the foot stool.  "Did you hear it?  It's
Cade and Trevor's fault.  If they weren't gay they wouldn't have been
attacked."

	"I didn't hear them say that."  Colleen looked at him curiously.  "Brock,
what are you talking about?"

	"Mom, what would you do if I was gay?"  He asked seriously.  "What would it
do to you and dad, or to Kent and Mark?  Would you guys expect me to get
what those two little kids got?  Is that okay here?"

	"Honey, I don't know what you're talking about."  She glanced at Brock's
hand which was still stroking the top of Tony's head.  "Are you telling me
you're gay, Brock?"

	"I don't know what I am."  He glanced down at Tony.  "I know that the whole
gay thing is irrelevant.  Those guys got beat to death, and all that stupid
bitch on the news could say was that they were suspected of being gay.  What
the fuck difference does that make when someone gets killed?"

	"You have no call to use that language around me, son."  Colleen said
quietly.

	"I'm sorry."  He said immediately, ashamed.  "Mom, I've sat here all night
thinking about this and the only thing that I can come up with is how
miserable I'd be if Tony wasn't in my life."  He looked up at her and his
eyes were watery.  "What if I am gay, mom?  Then what happens?"

	She stood up and sighed heavily.  "Honey, you had a horrible experience
today.  Can't you give yourself time to sleep on it?  What if you are?  Does
that change who you are?  You and Tony have loved each other since day one.
Where I come from that's a good thing.  He's our family just like you are,
son.  He belongs here."  She shook her head and picked up the popcorn bowl
to take to the kitchen.  "What if you aren't and you're just upset from the
day?"  She walked over and patted his shoulder.  "Maybe we should hold off
mentioning this to your dad until you rest up a bit."

	"Sorry, mom.  G'night."  He touched her hand.  She left the room and Tony
rolled onto his back and blinked up at Brock.  "You heard?"  Brock asked
quietly, moving his hand away from Tony's head.  Tony nodded slightly.  "I
meant what I said."  Tony smiled slightly and pointed at the top of his head
insistently.  "Like that do you?"  Brock chuckled and resumed running his
fingers through Tony's short hair.

	"It relaxes me."  Tony said quietly and let his eyes drift shut.  "I feel
the same way, I want you to know that."

	"I don't know how I feel."  Brock leaned his cheek on his fist.  "I'm all
fucked up now too."  Tony rolled back onto his side and settled in, letting
Tusker get up behind him on the couch and curl up.  Long after Tony was
asleep Brock stared at the wall.  His fingers never stopped moving on Tony's
head until he fell asleep.

	He woke with a start and looked around at the family room, wondering why he
was there instead of his room.  He glanced at the clock and had to fight to
get his eyes to focus.  It was five to four and he groaned and stretched.
Tusker's tail thumped against the back of the couch and Tony moved in his
lap.  The memories of last night flooded into his mind and for a moment he
was angry and afraid at the same time, but when he saw Tony's relaxed
features it calmed him on a level he couldn't figure out.  He ran his
fingers through the short brown hair again and a feint smile came to his
lips.

	"Mmmph."  Tony groaned and stretched.  "What time is it?"  He looked up at
Brock with sleep puffed eyes.

	"Four."  Brock yawned.  He could hear his mother moving in the kitchen.
"Let's go saddle the horses and help bring the milk cows in."  He always
liked doing that ever since he was a kid.  The ranch was a different place
in the morning.  He liked seeing the sun come up and he liked the smells and
feel of it.

	"It's four?"  Tony yawned hugely and closed his eyes.  "You go chase cows.
I'll watch the dog."

	"He's going with me and so are you."  Brock extricated himself from the
couch and pulled the quilts off.  "C'mon, man, daylight's wastin'."

	"Did I ever tell you how much this cowboy shit gets on my nerves?"  Tony
sulked as he got up and followed Brock up the stairs.

	"At least once that I remember."  Brock yawned again.  He went to the
bathroom and brushed his hair and then dressed in Tony Llama's, jeans, a
muscle tee and flannel shirt, denim jacket, and down filled vest.  He was
just finishing up when Tony walked in and he had to laugh.  Tony was about
as un-cowboy as he could get dressed in Sketchers, cargo pants, a hoodie
sweat shirt, and neon yellow quilted vest.  He had a Nike hat on backwards.

	"What?"  Tony held his arms out and turned around.  "I always wear this
stuff."

	Brock opened the door and headed into the hall.  "I just thought it was
funny.  We're like total opposites."

	"We wouldn't get along if we were the same, would we?"  Tony said
sarcastically.  He followed Brock down the stairs to find the dog in the
kitchen with Colleen.  "You want me to be like you?"

	"I didn't say that."  Brock kissed his mother and sat at the table.  "I
just thought it was funny so chill before I have to knock you out."  He
grinned at Tony and sipped his coffee.

	"Fat chance, meat head."  Tony grinned at him.

	"Well I'm glad to see you two social rejects are feeling better."  Colleen
rolled her eyes.  "I was beginning to worry that I might have a quiet day
around here and wouldn't know what to do with myself."  She set plates of
eggs and ham in front of them.

	"No chance, mom."  Brock tore into his breakfast.

	"Think how bored you'd be."  Tony smiled sweetly at her and went after his
own breakfast.  She shook her head and sat down with them.

	Half an hour later they sat on the General and Dollar moving through the
large pasture near the house.  In front of them over a hundred head of
cattle slowly moved into the pens to be moved through the milk barn.  It was
still pretty dark and the air had a distinct chill to it.  The horses blew
out large plumes of steamy breath and shook their heads to stay warm.

	Brock reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of Swisher Sweets, small
filtered cherry flavored cigars, and handed one to Tony and lit it then lit
one for himself.  They rarely smoked, but for some reason this time of
morning at this time of year the smelled and tasted really good.  He moved
the General to the right and urged one of the cows back into the herd.  Tony
and Dollar went the other way after stragglers, and Tusker run and sniffed
between them constantly, making sure he knew where they were.

	It was easy for Tony to forget for the moment how hard yesterday had been.
For right now everything was like it should be.  He'd been doing this with
Brock and his dad for years, and he'd never admit to anyone how much he
loved it.  He liked being called city kid although he wouldn't admit that
either.  It had become a term of endearment, and only the Morgans and their
hired hands had that right.

	He glanced over his shoulder to watch Brock on his horse.  If anyone had
ever been born to a saddle it was Brock Morgan.  When they'd been in high
school Brock had competed in the rodeos as a calf roper.  Now as he watched
Brock swung his lariat over his head and dropped it expertly over a calf's
neck, pulling it out of an irrigation ditch so it could find its mother.
With one flick of his wrist the rope loosened and fell off.  He glanced at
Tony as he coiled it up and smiled.  For Tony, if there was ever a second in
time he could freeze that was it, and it was gone.

	Brock tied the rope in place and was about to move when Tony's rope fell
around his shoulders and pulled snug.  Tony would never come close to Brock
or Dwight's skill but after years of practice he wasn't bad in a pinch.
Brock moved the General towards Tony as Tony gathered the rope.  He stopped
so they were side by side and flicked his cigar in the ditch.  "Something on
your mind, pal?"  He met Tony's eyes and tilted his hat back.

	"Yeah, there is."  Tony said.  He coiled the rope up and tied it to his
saddle.  "I wanted to tell you thanks."

	"What for?"  Brock studied Tony's eyes and face.  General Jackson decided
at that moment to shift his weight and Brock was suddenly with in inches of
Tony.

	"Everything."  Tony smiled slightly, and at almost the same time the both
leaned forward with out consciously thinking about it and their lips met.
There was none of the usual clumsiness, none of the unpracticed searching,
just a deep heart felt kiss that they would never mention again or forget.
The bond that was between them strengthened to steel.

	Brock leaned back after several longs seconds and grinned like a fool.  He
couldn't think of anything to say and he wanted to say it all at once.  His
heart was racing and his hands were sweating in his gloves.  He laughed
nervously and met Tony's eyes again.

	Tony grinned at him and guided Dollar to turn around.  Side by side they
rode back towards the herd of cows.  The sky was getting brighter as the sun
came up and Tony caught Brock looking at him occasionally as they finished
their work.

	A few hours later Brock tossed his coat and flannel shirt in the back seat
of his truck and watched as Tony pulled his sweatshirt over his head and
tossed it in as well.  Dwight walked over to them with his hands in his
pockets and stopped where Tusker sat watching them.  "We're going down to
see Cade in the hospital, dad."  Brock said as he closed the rear door of
his truck.  "We'll be back in a couple hours to help restack the hay barn on
the north end."

	"Got plenty a guys to do that, son."  Dwight smiled at him.  "I think you
two oughta go screw off awhile.  Been a long day or so.  I'd say you earned
it."  He reached down and scratched the dog's head.

	"We don't mind."  Tony leaned on the bed of the truck and situated his hat.

	Brock nodded.  "We won't be long."

	"Boys, I appreciate it, I really do, but I want you to go out and blow off
some steam or something."  Dwight insisted.  "If I catch you back here on
that hay stack tonight I'm gonna bust yer butts."  He folded his arms and
looked at them with an I won't be crossed look on his face.

	"Okay, old man."  Brock grinned at him and threw his hands up.  "You win."

	"Damn right."  Dwight chuckled and clapped his son's shoulder.  "Tell the
Daines' we send our best."  He watched them get in the truck and drive out
towards the front of the house.

	As soon as Brock cleared the house he knew he'd made a mistake going this
way.  There were still four media vehicles parked along the side of the lane
and as they saw his truck several doors opened and people rushed towards the
gate.  A sheriff's deputy standing at the gate sketched a salute to Brock
and chuckled.  "Aw, fuck."  Brock grumbled, rolling the truck to a stop.  A
female reporter jogged up and started talking to them through the closed
window like it wasn't there.  He smiled at Tony and rolled the window down.

	"...the two boys that found Cade Daniels?"  She asked, jamming a foam
covered microphone at him.  "Do you have a statement to make?"

	Brock chuckled and rubbed the side of his face.  Tony recognized the look
on Brock's face and smiled.  "Brock, don't say it."

	Brock looked at the woman and gave her his best wolf smile, the look that
could charm a snake out of the canal.  "Sure, I got a statement.  Tell the
mother fucker that did it that he better hope the cops get him before I do."
  He waved at the woman's shocked face and rolled the window up, moving the
truck slowly but persistently through the small crowd.

	Tony roared with laughter and wiped at his eyes.  "You are such a class
act, Morgan."

	"Fuck `em."  Brock grinned at him and floored it, rocketing his truck up
the lane towards the highway.  Just before the entrance to the freeway was a
convenience store that they liked to stop at and Brock turned in so they
could grab a drink.  The place was a truck stop and was always fairly busy.
A dozen patrons wandered the aisles and waited in line at the counter as
they went to the fountain.

	"Yesterday was a lot busier."  The middle aged cashier was telling a
customer as they went to the counter.  "Those media types were swarmin' the
place."  He shifted his enormous bulk on the stool he sat on.

	"Lot a fuss about nothin' if you ask me."  The customer said as he handed
over his money.  "Don't know who did it but I know why they did it."  He
chuckled under his breath.

	Brock stiffened as he figured out what he was hearing.  Tony had been
looking through a tabloid magazine and noticed the change.  He looked up at
Brock and saw his eyes go murderous and then glanced at the two men.

	"Feel bad for the parent's is all I can say."  The cashier rang up the sale
and made change.  "Can't imagine how I'd feel if my boy was gay and
embarrassed me like that."  He handed the change back over the counter.
"Wouldn't have happened if they wasn't doin' what they was doin'."

	Brock was shaking with fury as he set his and Tony's drinks on the counter.
  He nearly fumbled his wallet as he took it out.  Tony knew what had set it
off and was scared shitless that Brock, who had a way over developed sense
of justice, might go off like a bomb.  It had happened before.  "So it was
his fault he got beat?"  Brock asked quietly.  "He thinks different so it's
okay to kill him?"

	The cashier looked at him strangely.  "Well no, course not."  He took
Brock's money and rang in the sale.  "What I was sayin, was that if him and
that kid weren't doin' what they was doin' it wouldn't have happened."  He
handed back the change carefully, his eyes on Brock's.

	Brock put the change in his pocket and leaned way over the counter, his
face crimson.  "Cade Daines worked for my dad throwin' hay for two years.
He's a hard worker and a decent kid.  Is it okay if I go get my tire iron
and beat the fuck out of you because I hate gray hair you piece of shit?"
He straightened up and handed Tony his drink.  "Let's get the fuck out of
here."  The cashier watched them go with his mouth hanging open.

	"Brock, are you okay?"  Tony asked as they climbed into the Ford.  "I
thought for a second you were going over the counter at that guy."

	"For a second I was."  Brock started the truck and blew gravel all over the
side of the building as he tore out of the lot.  "That fucker pissed me off.
  Cade didn't have that comin'.  No one has that comin'."

	"I agree, but you can't change the world's opinion, especially not in Box
Elder County.  This is the wild west for Christ sake."  Tony grabbed the
hand grip over the door as they careened onto the freeway.  "You can't even
say gay around here without starting a fight."

	"Fuck that!"  Brock shouted and slammed his hand on the wheel.  "Fuck that
shit!  I am sick and fucking tired of hearing about how fucking evil gay
is!"  He ran his hand through his hair.  "Cade's a little guy, he can't
defend himself.  It ain't fuckin' right!"  He sniffed loudly and Tony
noticed that his eyes had watered up.  "Do you know what?"  He turned to
look at Tony, his face unreadable.  "This morning, riding with you, was the
best thing that ever happened to me ever."  He swallowed hard and a single
tear slid down his cheek.  "Know what else?  If anybody had seen us we'd get
fucked over, too!  It ain't right!"

	"Brock, maybe you should pull over for a minute."  Tony said carefully.
Brock in his mind was one of those people that rarely showed any feeling.
His dad was the same way.  It just wasn't done to show weakness.  To see his
best friend cracking like this scared Tony in a way he'd never felt before.

	"I'm okay."  Brock swiped roughly at his eyes.  "I'm so pissed off I can't
breathe.  I'm sorry."

	"I can tell.  You're forming complete sentences."  Tony quipped, trying to
lighten the mood.

	"Fuck you."  Brock laughed.  He looked over at Tony and for a second his
features softened.  "Thanks."  He reached over and squeezed Tony's hand and
then went back to driving.

	"That's what I'm here for."  Tony smiled, realizing that for Brock what
they'd done that morning and right now had been a huge effort.  He knew
Brock loved him, and was beginning to think that the love they had might
grow even more, but he'd never bend Brock's dignity by forcing it or saying
something stupid.  It would just cause Brock to close up.




	Barbara Daines looked up from the crossword magazine she was working on at
the sound of someone knocking on the door.  She was surprised to see Colleen
Morgan's son and his friend peaking around the edge of the door.  "Brock!"
She said quietly and stood up.  "What are you boys doing here?"  She was a
woman of 38, in good shape, with dark hair and small glasses.  Her face was
normally very friendly and open but after what had happened to her only
child Cade, the stress was showing.

	"We brought Cade some things."  Brock said nervously.  He held up a bag
with a discman and some cd's in it.  "Thought he might need something to
keep him busy."  He stepped into the room and took off his hat.  Tony stood
next to him with his hands in his pockets.

	"Oh, he will be so happy."  She accepted the bag and walked around the bed
where Cade was sleeping.  His color was much better than they remembered.
"Cade honey, you have guests."  She said quietly in his ear.

	Cade opened his eyes and blinked several times trying to focus.  Tony
stepped closer so that the light over the bed washed over him and smiled
down at Cade.  Cade's face seemed to go through several emotions and he
swallowed hard.  Barb looked over at them pitifully.  "His throat's bruised
pretty bad.  He can't speak much."

	Cade's eyes teared up and he held his arms up.  Tony swallowed hard and
bent over to embrace him, careful not to hurt him.  "Hey, buddy.  We're glad
to see you too."

	"Saved me."  Cade whispered in Tony's ear and began to shake with silent
sobs.  "Saved me."

	"Looks like he's doin' fine."  Brock said in a think voice.

	They showed him the cd's and the discman which made his face light up and
chatted about funny things that had happened while Cade had been working for
the Morgans.  Tony sat on the edge of the bed and took Cade's hand, grinning
and chuckling at Brock's stories.

	After about fifteen minutes Brock asked if Mrs. Daines would like a drink
from the cafeteria.  She shook her head and glanced at Cade.  "I can't leave
him.  He gets upset if he's alone."

	"I'll stay with him."  Tony looked up at her.  "Is that okay with you,
Cade?"  Cade nodded, pointed at himself and made a motion like he was
drinking from a cup.  "You want a drink too?"  Cade nodded.

	"If you're sure, honey."  She smiled at her son.  "A Mountain Dew?"  He
nodded and smiled.  "I won't be but a minute then."  She patted his foot
under the blankets and followed Brock out into the hall.

	"Cade, do you know who did this to you?"  Tony asked quietly.  Cade's face
clouded over and he shook his head.  "Did you see them?"

	Cade pulled him down so he could whisper in his ear.  "Had masks."  His
hands were shaking and Tony could see he was getting upset.  He tried to
lean up, regretting bringing it up, but Cade held him tightly.  "Fat guy,
skinny guy, short guy."  The memory of them overwhelmed him and he nearly
crushed Tony's neck with a hug.  Tears streamed down his face again.

	"Listen to me."  Tony soothed.  "You don't know it yet but you have two
families, Cade."  He rubbed the kid's back gently.  "Your new family is a
lot bigger than the one you have now, and we got your back."  He leaned back
and met Cade's eyes.  "Do you understand what family I mean?"  Cade
swallowed hard and looked up at him with wide eyes.  "Some of us aren't as
easy to find as others, Cade, but we watch out for our own."  He reached in
his pocket and took out a necklace he'd bought two years ago but had never
worn.  There were rainbow colored rings on a silver chain.  He held it up so
Cade could see it.  "Do you understand?"

	Cade's face broke out into what Tony honestly believed was the most
beautiful smile he'd ever seen.  The kid crushed him with surprising
strength and then leaned back on the pillow, exhausted.  Tony coiled the
necklace up in his hand and then put it into Cade's hand and closed his
fingers around it.  Cade let his head fall back and closed his eyes.  He was
sleeping when Brock and Mrs. Daines came back, and slept better that night
than he had in a long time.  The necklace remained in his clutched fist for
the rest of the night, and he didn't explain where it came from when it was
around his neck the next day.  No one really questioned it since he was
feeling much better and seemed to be interested in life again.



Thank you for reading this.  Please let me know what you think.