One for Sorrow

Logan sat at the kitchen table, drawing. His arm swept across the paper, his charcoal pencil flying. The sketch was beautiful and complex. It was of a teenaged boy looking at his reflection, as if he wanted to go through the looking glass. Logan had been working on it for three days. Aaron entered the kitchen and came to stand behind his son. He looked over the boy's shoulder for a moment. "That's exquisite, Logan. For all my writing talent, drawing was one thing I never could do. You, on the other hand, are a natural." "Thank you, Father." Aaron laid his hands on his son's shoulders. "You're so tense, Logan. Are you stressed?" "A little bit," Logan admitted. "Yeah, I saw your grades this week. They are perfect. Did you earn them?" "Yes sir," Logan answered. Aaron caught the boy roughly by the chin and forced Logan to look at him. They locked eyes for a moment and Aaron decided Logan was telling the truth.

"All right," Aaron released Logan. He moved back behind his son and began to rub Logan's neck and shoulders. He reached down and lifted the hem of Logan's t-shirt. Logan automatically raised his arms so his father could remove the garment. Aaron examined the ragged belt marks he had left on Logan's back the night before. They were torn, as if they would bleed at any moment. Aaron reached into a drawer beside the sink and pulled out a dish towel. He soaked it with warm water and soap. When Aaron touched the cloth to one of the lashes, Logan flinched. Aaron washed each mark and rinsed them. He patted the boy's back dry with a different towel. Logan was focused on the mirror in his sketch. He would add color soon.

Aaron sat down beside his son and watched him draw. Eventually, Logan put the sketch away and pulled out a clean sheet of paper. "Is there something you would like me to draw, Father?" "Draw me something that can't be touched," Aaron challenged. Logan smiled. Aaron didn't realize just how many untouchable things there were in the world. Logan loved to capture things that were abstract, such as a reflection. His father was in for a surprise when he saw how easy it had become for Logan to represent things that weren't concrete.

Aaron sat in his office, looking at the sketch Logan had given him earlier. For all his stunts, Logan was committed to his art. The "real" Logan showed in the pictures he created. Logan had drawn an intricate bouquet of a dozen roses. They were black and their stems were tied with a black ribbon. There were petals falling off the outer most flowers, some scattered across the bottom of the page, others in mid drop. When Aaron asked Logan what about the picture was untouchable, Logan used thorny vines to write Death in perfect script below the bouquet. Aaron had been impressed, but had simply nodded and left the teenager to his work. Aaron could now hear the boy collecting his car keys as he prepared to leave. "Logan," Aaron called. The boy appeared in the doorway. "Where are you going?" "There's a party at the Kane house." "In by 2," Aaron ordered. "Yes, Father." Logan disappeared from the doorway and Aaron listened to his son drive away. He shook his head and set the picture aside.

It was 2:30 when Logan stumbled into the penthouse. He was tipsy, borderline drunk, but the sight of his father sobered him up. "You're late, Logan." "I'm sorry, Father. I walked home." "Where's your car?" "It's in Duncan's garage, where it will be safe until tomorrow." "Why didn't you call me? I would have come and picked you up." "I didn't want to risk throwing up in the Beemer." Logan was thinking of the time he had spilled a milkshake in the BMW. Aaron had given him a bloody nose. "You thought being late was better?" "I weighed the last time I was late against the last time I made a mess in the Beemer and picked the lesser consequence." "The last time you were late I didn't let you leave the house after 7 pm for 2 weeks." "The last time I made a mess in the Beemer, you gave me a bloody nose."

Aaron swore. For the millionth time, he scolded himself for abusing Logan. He just got so angry with the boy. Aaron sat down on the couch. "Come here, Logan." Logan came to stand in front of Aaron, the way he did when Aaron used a wooden spoon to spank him. Aaron took both his son's hands. "I gave you specific instructions, Logan. What do you suppose I do when you disobey me?" "Ground me like a normal parent." "All right you're grounded for the rest of the week. Now get to bed, it's too early to be awake." Aaron released the boy's hands.

Logan went to bed without another word. He slept for a few hours and then woke up around nine to help his mother. It was Thanksgiving, the only meal Lynne cooked herself. Logan's sister Trina arrived around noon. Trina was Aaron's daughter from his first marriage. She was spoiled rotten and didn't get along with Lynne. As far as her relationship with Logan, it was dangerous. The siblings practiced love-hate in a way that would make ordinary people cringe. Logan didn't mind. He and Trina didn't always love each other, but they trusted each other and that was more important. Aaron came home around two with some colleagues who had flown in to dine with them. Logan was in the shower when they arrived. His best friend, Luciano Valencia, or Lucas Valentine as they called him, showed up about the same time. He entered through Logan's balcony doors, straight into Logan's private hall of the penthouse.

The moment he heard the door open, Logan knew who it was. "Hello, Luc, how's life treating you?" "Magnificent, Logan, my parents are in Prague, my siblings are scattered around the globe, and here I am at your place on Thanksgiving." "You have one sibling home, right?" "Yeah, but he had other plans for the holiday." "It could be worse." "How is that?" "You could be in Prague with your parents." Luc laughed. Logan was right. Luc's father was a hard-ass lawyer who bullied everyone, including Luc, all his siblings, and their mother. It had turned his mother into a mouse who cowered under his father. Logan didn't know the details, but he wouldn't put it past Old Man Valentine to hit his wife. So much for Italian charm…

"Where are your parents?" "Mom's downstairs cooking, Dad is due any moment with some guests, and Trina is floating around, useless as always." "I heard that," Trina appeared in the doorway. "Good, maybe it will spur you into doing something productive. Notice I said something, not someone." "So you guys are hating today," Luc observed. "At least until dinner," Trina laughed. "Don't you ever want to kill your siblings, Luc?" "Yes, I know the feeling well." "I have a feeling my father will ask you to say grace in Italian. I would be wary of his guests if you choose to make it interesting…" "You think they speak Italian?" "You never know and some of the words you favor are quite recognizable." "Perhaps I'll break tradition and keep it clean this year," Luc mussed. Trina yawned. "Stay in there much longer and you'll drown, Logan." "Don't sound so hopeful, Trina." "What a boring Thanksgiving this is going to be…" "What did you expect?" Trina left to find some excitement. "I suppose that means it isn't safe." "Not today," Logan agreed.

Luc was asking if it was safe to join Logan in the shower. The two had been friends with benefits for more than two years now. Logan was thinking of the marks on his back. He had managed to keep Aaron's abuse a secret, even from Luc. Since their relationship was a secret, Logan was able to get around anything physical that would show the marks. He didn't know what he would do if they ever came out. Logan shut off the water and shooed Luc out of the room so he could dress. Luc asked no questions. Logan suspected he knew something was up and was grateful that Luc didn't press him. The boys went into the kitchen together. "Hello, angel," Aaron kissed Logan on the forehead and shook hands with Luc. It was all an act, albeit a thorough one. Everyone sat down to dinner and, as predicted, Aaron asked Luc to say grace in Italian. Luc was true to his word and kept it clean. "It sounded different this year, Luc. Is there something you were extra thankful for?" Luc raised and lowered a shoulder. "It was just a standard grace, sir." "And admittedly tame compared to normal," Trina remarked. Logan shot her a look that promised revenge later. Aaron suddenly began to laugh.

"Let me guess, every year you say something totally off the wall and vulgar. This is the first year you actually gave thanks isn't it?" "What fun would it be if I told you?" Aaron shook his head and the meal resumed. When everyone was finished the adults went out onto the porch for coffee. Logan and Trina stayed inside to do the dishes. Trina was humming and Logan picked up the melody. He began singing the song she was humming. She joined him and the dishes went by quickly. When they were through, the adults began to applaud. Both siblings were startled; they hadn't realized they could be heard by anyone other than Luc, who was sitting at the counter. "You two harmonize well together." Logan couldn't suppress a snort. "Maybe in song," he allowed. Trina smirked. "If nothing else," she agreed.

Luc and Logan went back to Logan's bedroom. The adults would sit out on the porch talking for hours, but the boys had… better… things to do. Logan turned on his stereo, careful to keep the volume down. The last thing he needed was to piss Aaron off. "I know it's too risky to do anything serious, but are you at least going to kiss me?" Logan pulled Luc's face toward his. Luc parted his lips so that Logan could use his tongue from the start. "Why do you taste so good to me?" Luc chuckled softly at Logan's question. "It has something to do with the fact that we've been doing this for forever." They kissed again. Luc used a trick or two he'd learned with his tongue. It distracted Logan enough that he forgot to stop Luc from touching his back. Luc ran his hand under the back of Logan's t-shirt. He broke the kiss and swore. Before Logan could open his mouth to protest, Luc yanked his t-shirt over his head and turned him around. "Logan, what happened?"

"I pissed off my father." "Your father did this to you?" Logan nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak, knowing he'd lash out against Old Man Valentine. "How long has Aaron been hurting you, Logan?" "Since I was eight," Logan replied softly. "You hid it from me for that long?" "I hide it from everyone, Luc. I know it's pointless to lie to you, so when you asked I answered." "Can you still have sex?" "As long as you're on bottom, I don't see why not." "Come home with me and test that theory." "I will see if my father will allow it." Logan went downstairs to speak to Aaron. His father was telling a story when he arrived. Logan waited patiently, not saying a word. Aaron finished his tale and addressed his boy. "What is it, kid?" "Do you mind if I go back to Luc's house with him?" "You're still grounded through Sunday, Logan." "Sorry, Dad, I totally forgot. I'll tell Luc. He's getting ready to take off anyways." Aaron nodded and turned back to his guests.

"Unfortunately, I totally spaced on the fact that I'm grounded. You'll have to go home without me, Luc." "I don't think I've ever heard of you being grounded." "That's because his punishments are usually physical. I missed curfew this morning, but since I already have marks he just grounded me." "At least he didn't beat you anyways." Logan nodded. "You'd better head on home. I would rather not piss him off." Luc agreed. He and Logan kissed goodbye and then he was gone. Trina came home about a half an hour later. She knocked on Logan's door. "I was hoping to catch you doing something scandalous." "My fun is over for the night. Luc went home and I'm grounded through Sunday for missing curfew this morning." "I didn't even have a curfew. It must suck not being the favorite," Trina grinned. "You may be the favorite, Trina, but you're also the community chest."

Trina slapped Logan. "I may have done my share of running around, Logan, but that's in the past. I have a steady boyfriend and he'd leave me if I was still whoring." Logan caught Trina by the shoulders and shoved her back against the wall. She was a petite, tiny thing and he rarely got physical with her. "Don't ever hit me, Trina." The siblings locked eyes, but Trina's filled with tears. Logan released her, knowing that only pain could bring his sister to cry. She was tough and tears were involuntary in her world. Logan used one of his t-shirts to wipe away the traitorous moisture. He knew Trina wanted to start their usual screaming match, but that was impossible when their father had company. Trina stood exactly where he'd shoved her and looked at him. "I'm not a whore, Logan. If you don't call me one, I won't hit you. It's that simple." "You had better not hit me anyway, Trina. I will hit you back. Go ahead and push it if you think I'm bluffing."

"If there is one thing I've learned about you Logan, it's that you rarely say anything you don't mean." "Remember that the next time your hand comes up to hit me." Logan was fine with their playful smacks and scuffles, but when Trina slapped him like that, it pissed him off. Aaron's abuse was enough. Trina suddenly put her hands on Logan's neck and stretched up to kiss the spot she'd slapped. She didn't say anything, but turned to leave. Logan caught her hand and hugged her. "I know you're not a whore, Trina." "If we lived in a different world, I would never leave your arms, Logan." "This is our world, Trina, so I guess you'd better go." They separated and Trina walked out. Logan shoved his hands through his hair and cursed his luck for the millionth time.

Aaron came in later that night. "Did you hurt your sister?" he growled. "Probably," Logan replied. "Why?" demanded Aaron. "She slapped me." "Why did she slap you?" "I called her a skank." "Why would you call her that?" "She used to be one and she was goading me." "So she slapped you and you…?" "Pinned her to the wall," Logan answered. Aaron shoved his hands through his hair. "Logan, I'm really not—" "It is okay, Daddy. I'm an adult and I can handle Logan." Aaron looked like he didn't believe her. Trina stepped forward and cracked her little brother one across the face. Logan didn't react. "See, it was just a fluke. I've got him right where I want him." Aaron nodded and left. Trina instantly scrambled out of Logan's reach. "I'm sorry. I was afraid if he didn't believe me he'd beat you. I had to convince him I can handle myself." Logan stood and crossed the room to Trina. She expected him to hit her, but instead he pressed his lips to her forehead.

Trina couldn't have been more shocked. "You're not angry with me?" "I'm done hating for tonight." Trina reached up to run her hand through Logan's hair. It was in sorry need of a good cutting. "Sometimes it hits me that you're the only sibling I've got." "I love you, Trina. Generally speaking, that's a fact. Naturally, you really piss me off and I thoroughly enjoy hating, but usually I love you." "Thanks, Logan, same to you." "I gather you weren't looking for me to say it." "I don't need you to say it, little brother; I need you to mean it." "I do mean it, Trina, I swear." "I know. Like I said, you rarely say things you don't mean." "I'll show you my back, if you show me yours." "Deal," Trina said softly. Logan removed his t-shirt so she could see the slashes. She removed hers so he could see the bruises forming on her angel bones from where he'd pinned her to the wall. "I'm sorry, Trina. I try not to get physical with you." "I don't dish what I can't take, Logan." "You never did, Trina." "Goodnight, baby brother." "Goodnight, pretty girl."

The next morning, Aaron brought his colleagues back to the house after meeting them for breakfast. They had some discussing to do in his study, but overall the gathering was a relaxed one. Logan was at the kitchen counter making French toast. Trina and Lynne had left the house around two that morning to begin Black Friday shopping. Logan's cell phone rang as Aaron entered with his friends. "No, I told you, those have to be in by Monday. It's not optional, Carson. So you're telling me that it isn't going to happen." Logan listened for a minute. "That is just fan-fuc-ah, freaking-tastic. No, I know you did everything possible. I'll see you Monday and you can just give me what you've got. I'll deal with the rest." Logan clicked off. "Something wrong, babe?" asked Aaron. "No, things just never go according to plan. Sorry you guys had to hear that." "Sounds like a typical business call to me. You actually censored yourself better than I do," one of Aaron's colleagues smiled. "I'm usually pretty good. The guy I work for has a toddler so we try to keep it clean around little pitchers and all that." Logan finished cooking his breakfast.

As he was getting ready to sit down and eat, Logan dropped his fork. He bent to retrieve it and his t-shirt slipped up. For a horrible moment, Aaron was sure the slash marks would be exposed, but all they saw was Logan's undershirt. Logan sometimes wore a skintight undershirt when he had marks so that he didn't have to worry about keeping them from being exposed. The fabric rubbing against the marks hurt, but it was a small price to pay if it meant no one figured out Aaron abused him. Aaron took his colleagues into his study and they didn't emerge until three hours later. Logan was making lunch this time. "You're never here for lunch," Aaron remarked. "I assumed being grounded meant I couldn't make food runs unless there was nothing in the house," Logan replied. Aaron nodded and saw his guests out. He returned to the kitchen and watched his son cook for a few minutes. Logan was making some kind of pasta dish and it smelled delicious. Aaron's thoughts were elsewhere as he contemplated his son's movements.

"Take your t-shirt off, Logan." Logan automatically obeyed. Aaron looked at the undershirt stretched tightly against his child's skin. "Do you always wear an undershirt when you have marks?" "Not always, but usually." "You're a good boy, Logan, and I shouldn't hurt you the way I do. If I didn't, you would have nothing to hide. Eat your lunch and then you may go to Luc's like you asked me last night." Aaron went back to his study and listened as Logan ate, did the dishes, and collected his car keys. Then the boy appeared in the doorway. "What time do you want me back?" "Eleven at the latest," Aaron answered flatly. Logan nodded and disappeared. "Logan," Aaron called. Logan reappeared in the doorway. "I don't care if you're drunk or high or whatever. If you're late by so much as a minute there will be hell to pay." Logan nodded and this time made it out of the house. Aaron sat still for a moment, hoping and praying he wouldn't have to make good on that threat. He didn't want to punish Logan, not today. He really hoped the boy would call him if he and Luc got drunk. Aaron would keep his temper regardless of what happened.

Logan arrived home at ten fifty-five that night. Aaron was relieved, but he wasn't about to show Logan that. He was actually getting ready to go out himself to an afterhour's club to meet his publisher. They always met late at night. "Logan, bring me a belt," Aaron called to his teenager. It wasn't but a moment before Logan appeared with a black leather belt. He offered it to his father. Aaron unfolded it the way he always did right before he beat Logan. The boy reached for the hem of his t-shirt. "Uh-uh, babe, I'm meeting my publisher tonight." Aaron put the belt on. Logan visibly relaxed. "You aren't late, Logan. Is there something else you're feeling guilty about?" "No, I was just going through the motions, Father." Aaron checked his watch. "On second thought, go ahead and remove both your shirts. I want to look at those marks." Aaron watched Logan strip and turn around. Aaron examined his handy work for a moment before sighing. He stepped forward and placed a kiss on the base of Logan's neck. "I'll be back around two, but who knows when we'll see the girls. Stay out of trouble, kid." Aaron left.

It was two-thirty in the morning when Logan found himself being yanked out of bed. Aaron's meeting with his publisher had not gone well and he was pissed. Logan had just managed to steady himself when Aaron slapped him so hard his ears started to ring. He turned his back on his father, praying that the sight of what his temper led to would stop Aaron. Mercifully, it worked. Aaron seemed to deflate. He reached out and traced a finger down the longest of the marks. Logan did his best not to flinch, but wasn't completely successful. Aaron sat down on the teenager's bed and patted the spot next to him. Logan sat down carefully. Aaron brushed his hand through Logan's hair, but said nothing. He knew his apologies were useless. It didn't matter that he was sorry, he always did it again. Aaron stood and gestured for Logan to lie back down. Once Logan had done so, Aaron sat back down on the edge of his son's bed. He repeatedly brushed his hand through Logan's hair. "This is not your fault," he said softly. Logan nodded. "I know it doesn't seem like it, Logan, but I do love you. Even if you don't believe that, it's still true." "I love you, too, Dad. I also hate you, though." Aaron stroked Logan's hair until the teenager fell back to sleep.