Disclaimer: Not mine, but we all know that my hosue is free anytime Munch needs it. :D
Her head was resting on his chest, right below his shoulder. He was playing gently with her hair and she had her eyes closed. Her hand was on his chest as well, rising and falling as he inhaled and exhaled. "John," she said quietly.
"Hmm."
"I wish I could've met your parents."
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He had been waiting for this to come up for a long time. "No, you don't."
She turned her head slightly, looking up to his face. "Why not?"
He sighed and her hand rose higher, then fell lower. "Just... you wouldn't."
She fell silent, thinking. A few minutes later, "Why don't you talk about your family?"
He closed his eyes again and clenched his jaw. "Because they're not really much to talk about."
"What about your brother?"
"Bernie? You really wanna hear stories about a mortician?"
"Well, I don't know. I just want to hear about your family sometimes. It's as if you've been alone your whole life."
He tensed at that and she knew immediately that had been the wrong thing to say.
"John, I'm sorry. I--"
"No, no. It's fine."
"John--"
"Leave it," he said, somewhat harshly.
She pulled away from him, stung by his reaction. Rolling over, she faced away from him, playing over in her head all those movies where a couple had an argument and they wound up not facing each other, even with their eyes closed in bed. She heard him sigh again and then the slight rustle of movement.
"My father killed himself. You really wanna hear about that?" He paused. "Look, Casey, I'm sorry. I just... I don't like to talk about my parents." Another pause. "When my father died, my mother moved us up here for a couple years. She cut off all ties to Pikesville and all our friends. She didn't want them to know that my father had taken his own life. I was only eleven at the time. I didn't really have any idea what was going on. Bernie was only six. I was suddenly the man of the house, and my mother wouldn't even let me cross the street by myself. When we moved back to Pikesville, we moved to a different part of town, away from the house where I grew up. Away from the house where my father killed himself."
She thought she heard him sniff. Then, swallowing the pain she still felt at his harsh tone, she rolled back over. She reached her hand up and touched his face, feeling the wetness of tears. He turned his head away, but she moved closer and kissed his cheek. She resumed the place she had been resting before, rubbing his chest, soothing him until finally he looked down at her.
"I'm sorry, Case."
"No, it's okay. I shouldn't have pushed. I'm sorry."
"I don't talk about them enough. You were right." He began playing with her hair again. "Maybe I'll take you to meet Bernie someday."
She smiled into his chest. "That sounds nice."
"I'm glad you approve."