I'm writing this in honor of a very dear friend who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time the other night and who is still sitting in ICU today just because some people saw he and I and thought they'd 'teach the little fags a lesson' and, in their alcohol induced state, went just a little too far. It was a sad and harsh reminder that society still has a long way to go in terms of acceptance.
Warnings: Violence, homophobia
Laughter bubbled up Spencer's throat. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and rocked back as he let out a laugh of pure joy. Seeing it had the young teen with him grinning. Sixteen year old Bailey watched as the man who was his mentor snorted and immediately tried to cover his mouth to smother it. Big brown eyes were lit up with humor as they looked over the top of his hand at Bailey. "You're just kidding me, aren't you?" Spencer demanded as he dropped his hand down.
Still grinning, Bailey shook his head. "Nope. Josh thought he was safe, but he should know better. All's fair in love and practical joke wars."
"You know he's going to retaliate, don't you? He'll try to come up with something bigger and better than what you did."
"Let him try; I'll be ready for him." Bailey winked.
Slowly the laughter faded away and Spencer comfortably folded himself back onto the low brick wall they were sitting on. Unlike Bailey, who was straddling the wall to better face Spencer, the genius had his legs crossed and was resting his arms on his knees. If he unfolded his feet, he'd be in the exact same position as Bailey was. Comfortable once more, he looked at Bailey and decided that he'd let things go long enough. They'd had their coffee and they'd been sitting on this wall in the park for a god half hour now just talking and laughing. Time to get to the bottom of things. "All right, Bailey. What's up?"
Bailey's eyebrows went up and his face took on a look of surprise that wasn't completely believable. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You called me up and asked me out for coffee at seven o'clock at night, always a good indicator that you need to talk, and you've been tense and worried the entire time. You've got this little furrow between your brows that hasn't completely gone away even when you were telling stories and laughing. You've also been biting your nails again, which you know is going to have Josh cursing you. So, I'll repeat, what's up?"
Bailey had dropped his head down midway through Spencer's speech. He peeked up through his bangs now, a wry sort of humor in those bright blue eyes. "How did I end up with the only mentor that's a profiler?"
"Sheer dumb luck?"
That drew a small smile from the boy. It didn't last, though. The smile faded and Spencer watched as Bailey started to scratch his middle fingernail against the pad of his thumb—a surefire sign of stress and nerves. Whatever this was, it was bothering him greatly. Spencer folded his hands in his lap and waited him out. He knew Bailey would speak up eventually.
It only took a minute before the teen started to talk. "My Dad came to visit." Just those few words and Spencer wanted to sigh. He could see where this was going. He said nothing, though, and kept waiting. Bailey bit his lip and scratched harder at his thumb. "It's been a month, so I thought maybe he was, y'know, maybe he was coming back to, to try. Mom told him he had to behave if he came in the house and he agreed."
Oh, Bailey. Inside, Spencer ached. On the outside he kept calm. "What happened?"
"He offered me help with getting my car." Bailey offered up those words like they were something, yet the flatness of his tone told a different tale.
It wasn't hard for Spencer to guess what came next. "In exchange for what?"
"Breaking up with Josh and forgetting this whole 'gay phase'." A shaky laugh broke from the aching teen. "That's what he called it, a gay phase. An he offered me the car like it was somehow going to magically fix it all for him. Like a car is some cure for gayness that I've just never heard of before." Blue eyes snapped up and they flashed with a mixture of hurt and temper. "I told him no car was worth enough to make me leave Josh and he just damn well better get used to that idea. Mom and him were still fighting about it when I left. Why the hell can't he understand, Spencer? Why does he have to treat it like it's some disease I have, or like it's this rebellious thing I'm doing just to piss him off? Why does everyone have to treat it like it's so wrong? How can they think it's so bad?"
So many times over the years Spencer had heard different variations of that question. He'd been a part of the mentor program for gay teens ever since his first year in DC and he'd mentored ten boys over the years and spoken with countless others. Most of them had asked him some form of that question. Why don't they understand? Why can't my mother/father/brother/sister/family/friends accept who I am? Why do people have to treat me like I'm sick or like there's something wrong with me? Difficult questions, those, and there was no cookie cutter answer that he could give. Spencer sighed and lifted a hand, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I wish there was a simple answer I could give you for that, Bail. The truth is, I don't know. I could tell you facts and statistics about people who have been indoctrinated to believe that homosexuality is wrong or perverse, or I could quote bible passages that people use to show that it's a sin. I could give you all the arguments that people use against homosexuality. But it won't really make you feel better." Reaching out, Spencer laid his hand on Bailey's arm, giving it a small squeeze. "What you need to remember is that your father loves you, very much. He just doesn't understand. And sometimes, the things that are unfamiliar to us, the things we don't understand, can scare us and cause us to react negatively. Your father doesn't understand this and it scares him. I know it's hard, but all you can really do is give him time. He loves you; you know he does."
"I know." Bailey whispered. "It just hurts, y'know? I just want him to accept who I am and realize I'm not gonna change."
"Maybe he will one day. He's never directly insulted you, never put you down. He hasn't disowned you. I know that his bribes and pleas to change are hard to handle, but you're doing great with it. Maybe one day he'll come around." Spencer slid his hand down and felt Bailey twist his hand enough that their palms connected. He brought his other hand out and cupped Bailey's between his, holding it and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Touch wasn't his best form of communication but Bailey was extremely tactile and he always got through these moments better with a hand to hold. Spencer kept his grip on Bailey's hand and gave him a small smile. "Give him a bit of time, Bailey. He's only known for a month. I know it's hard, but be a little patient."
"Well, well, well, lookee what we got here, boys? A couple of fags."
The dry, drawling voice had both Spencer and Bailey looking up quickly. Spencer felt Bailey tense beside him. There was a group of men on the sidewalk nearby, slowly making their way over towards them. Spencer counted six. One look told him these guys had already been drinking even though it was only just shy of eight at night. Their body language was enough to have Spencer tensing even more. He'd seen that kind of body language before.
Spencer pushed up to his feet and felt Bailey do the same thing. Letting go of the teen's hand, he carefully placed himself in front of Bailey. "If I say run, you run." He murmured to him. Then he turned his head to face the group once more. Spencer held his hands out in a peaceful gesture. "We want no trouble, gentlemen. My friend and I were just getting ready to leave."
"Aw, aint that cute, boys." The same man said, looking around at his friends who were all grinning at him. "He don't want no trouble."
"Maybe he and his little fag lover shouldn't have come outside, then." One of the others called out.
Bailey was growing more and more tense behind Spencer. He'd lifted one hand, resting it between Spencer's shoulder blades, and there was a small quiver in it that Spencer could lightly feel. His own fear felt like a hard ball in his stomach. "We'll just be on our way, then, and you gentlemen can go back to enjoying your night. Nothing has to happen here." Spencer took a small step back, nudging Bailey back. He felt as Bailey bumped the wall and he nudged him again, encouraging him to step over it. The six men had gotten even closer and Spencer knew the window was closing here.
One of the men stepped forward a little and grinned at Spencer. "Oh, I think there's plenty that's gonna happen, here."
They weren't just going to back off. They were too pumped, the alcohol in their system giving them bravery and daring that they might not usually have, and Spencer knew he had to get Bailey the hell out of there. There was no one else in the park at the moment and they'd stupidly chosen this area just for its seclusion. That was something that they were paying for, now. But if he could get Bailey around the corner, Spencer's car was over in the parking lot and they could get the hell out of here. He just needed to get the teen there by any means necessary. Angling his hips so his movement was hidden, Spencer reached down into his pocket and drew out his keys. He passed them back to Bailey, who hesitated briefly before taking them.
Then all time to think was done. One of the guys sneered at Spencer and spat out "Fucking freaks like you need to be a taught lesson, out here corrupting kids like this. Fucking pervert." Then he stepped forward, one hand reaching out, and Spencer spun, snapping out "Run!" to Bailey. Thank God, the teen shot off, racing away. Spencer tried to follow him, got over the low wall and a single step away, but a hand caught at the back of his shirt and he found himself yanked backwards. The back of his knees hit the wall and his legs were knocked out from under him so that he ended up flying back and landing on his backside on the ground right in the middle of the men.
None of Spencer's training or experience made him fast enough to dodge that first kick that stole his breath away. A hand fisted in his hair, dragging him upright, and he fought to get his breath back enough to fight, to defend himself, knowing even as he balled up his fist and threw his first punch that it wasn't going to be enough. At least Bailey had gotten away. He held on to that as the blows started to fall. At least Bailey was safe.
It took twenty minutes for two police officers to arrive at the park with Bailey and another ten minutes before they found him. What they found was something that Bailey knew would haunt his nightmares for a long time to come. At first he couldn't even tell it was him. Spencer was lying in a heap on the ground against the same brick wall they'd been sitting at before, only a few feet away from that spot. He'd been stripped of all his clothes except for his boxers. There was so much blood on him and on the ground around him that, for a moment, Bailey was terrified he was dead. The only signs of life were the small tremors that seemed to run down the man's slender frame. Seeing those broke Bailey's momentary paralysis and he tried to launch forward, only to be caught by one of the officers.
"Stay back, son." The man said carefully, holding on to Bailey and drawing him backwards while his partner went forward and dropped down beside Spencer. Bailey heard the other officer calling this in, requesting an ambulance, and Bailey could only stand there and watch as the man reached out to check for a pulse.
The pained cry that Spencer gave had Bailey renewing his struggles to get free. "Let me go!" He snapped out at the officer, eyes locked on Spencer, who was weakly trying to scoot back away from the touch and was only succeeding in making himself hurt more. "Let me go to him, please!"
But the officer kept him back. He kept Bailey back and out of the way as backup arrived and even as the paramedics arrived. He drew Bailey further away and sat him down on the wall, hands on his shoulders to keep him there. "Son." He called, trying to draw Bailey's attention away from Spencer. "Son! Your friend is getting the best help he can right now. There's nothing you can do but get in the way of the medics. Right now I need you to focus here on me. I need you to tell us what happened so that we can try and find the people that did this. Can you do that for me?"
Bailey watched as Spencer was lifted carefully onto the gurney. He saw the limp form lying there and his stomach turned over. As the gurney rose up, the light fell over Spencer's body and the dark spots on Spencer's skin that Bailey hadn't been able to see before became suddenly clear. Bile rose up his throat. Underneath the blood and bruises and other things, the words QUEER and FAG had been written in big block letters with what looked like permanent marker.
That was just one thing too many. The stress of the night finally caught up with Bailey and he twisted himself in just enough time to empty his stomach on the other side of the wall.
