Brothers
A knock on the door startled John out of his homework, almost banging his head on the shelf above his desk. It was Wednesday night, and he had hoped to be done before Friday, to have the whole weekend free and able to enjoy himself. Except from work on Saturday, that was.
"Come in," he said, while turning around and rising from his desk. He didn't quite know why, but he liked to stand when people entered his room. Or, what was his room for the time being. They were in the middle of the yearly discussion about who should have to live with whom, since they had only 4 bedrooms in their house, and they were 7 people living in it. Technically there had only been three bedrooms, but Richard and Ann had given up the room that wasn't used as a study anyway, so why bother leaving it untouched, when they were a little out of bedrooms? This year's discussion was more relaxed than usual, since James and John both were going to collage next year, and then the boys would have their own room. Both Will and Clint had fought last year, to get to share a room with either John or James, since three young men in one room could be more than enough for anyone, but Ann had cut the discussion short by compromising, giving the three boys the master bedroom to share. It was a much better deal than they had expected, and given the bunk bed Richard had bough around the same time, it really gave them more room in their room for a desk which fitted to persons and a computer, and another bookshelf. Richard and Ann had taken the boys' old room on the first floor, while John and James staying where they were. John had a smaller room in the back, while James had the attic, with the roof cutting down, and only half size of what it should be. It didn't bother any of the other boys though, since both James, Clint, Will and Kenneth had slept in far worse places before.
The door opened, and Clint stood in the doorway, looking a little shaken up, but not so much that John would mention it, if Clint didn't.
"Hey. Can I come in for a while?" Clint asked, looking at the floor, and shuffling his feet.
"Yeah, sure," Will answered, not even thinking about it. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Clint this way. It was unsettling how fast Clint went from being the young man he was growing up to be, to the child his mother and father had come home with one day. John had been twelve at the time, and they had taken James in when he was 8. He had gotten used to living with a brother, even if it had been difficult the first time, having to learn how to share his own parents. John remembered that Richard and Ann had been in the progress of getting both Will and Kenneth, when they came home with Clint. It wasn't until almost two years later he learned the difference between adopting and fostering in a legal way. Clint had been an foster kid, who suddenly had no place to stay. Or, more correctly, suddenly had been kicked out of the circus where he had been working. It was all illegally of course, and John never had figured out if they really had kicked him out, or if someone had discovered what they were doing, and decided to take action. Anyway, Richard and Ann had come home one day, and Clint had been with them. John had understood not to ask too many questions, and had instead asked if Clint wanted to watch a movie with him. It had taken a long time for Ann and Richard, and John and James to learn Clint that he could look them in the eye and say no. He might not get away with it, and they might want to discuss why he said no, but they had taught him that he could if he would. John still remembered way too clearly all the times Clint had asked him a question, head bowed and feet shuffling, as if they wouldn't listen to him. He had helped some when Will and Kenneth was adopted; Will having to learn that looking people in the eye didn't mean someone was going to hit him, and Kenneth learning that there was no shame in asking questions.
This boy standing in front of John now, was closer to that little boy he had known the first years Clint was here, than the young, find man John knew Clint could be. It was scary seeing the transformation going the other way around, after so much time and work to really make a difference.
"So, Richard gave us permission to watch a movie in here, if you wanted to?" The end if definitively a question, and one that John doesn't have to think about before answering.
"Yeah, sure." He smiles at Clint, moving from this chair to the bed, picking up his laptop in the way. "What would you like to see?"
It takes Clint a few moments to react, to get himself moving toward the chair, as if to pull it up by the bed.
"Leave it. Come here," John says before Clint can move it, and pats the bed beside him. There are space enough for both of them, even if it might be a tight fit. He count it as a victory when Clint only hesitates a little before climbing onto the bed together with John. They open Netflix, and Clint chooses a Disney movie at random, clearly wanting comfort more than a movie. John smiles as they start the movie, and lean back against the railing of the bed. It only takes a minute before Clint lays his head in his shoulder, and about thirty minutes later he is fast asleep. John shuts off the movie, but doesn't move other ways. It's getting late, and he should head for bed himself, but he can't make himself to move quite yet. The moments like these are a rarity now, since they all are growing up and finding their own way in the world, and he wants to appreciate this moment as long as it lasts.
It only ten minutes late when Ann and Richard knocks softly on his door, and looks in. Both their faces turns to two big smiles, and they step fully into the tiny room together.
None of them mention the reason Clint came to John in the first place, even if John is sure his parents know the reason behind Clint personal crisis at the moment. He had an good idea though of what it might be. But it is none of his business, at least not yet. At least not until it becomes a problem, if it becomes a problem. An if it does, he is sure Clint will know when to ask for help. That, at least, is something Barney never can take away from him.