Ties that Bind

Summary: Jay gets an unexpected visitor. Original character, first-person point of view. If people are interested, I might make this into a full-length story. For now, it's just a one-shot. Rated M for some language. Please review!

I almost can't believe it. I'm here, in Toronto. But it was the only thing I could think to do. He was the only one I could think to turn to. And beside that, he has a right to know.

Two years, it's been. Or almost two years, anyway. Almost two years since my mother banned Jason from my life. It was completely heartless of her, and unfair. I don't care if he got expelled from that stupid school. She didn't even let him explain; she just hung up the phone and cut him off from me. I hated her for doing that. Sometimes, I hate her still.

Summers haven't been the same without him.

Okay, fine, so it's not like I can't see my mother's point of view. I know what she was worried about. Hell, what she's still worried about. She likes Jason, despite herself, but she's always been worried that he's a bad influence on me. So I set out to prove her wrong.

Before she kicked Jason out of my life, I'd never really been in trouble. I hadn't gotten as much as a detention at school. I even made pretty good grades. Okay, I wasn't a nerd or anything, but I was getting by. And then … for God's sake, she didn't even have the guts to tell me he wasn't coming, like he usually did, until school got out for the year!

My whole summer was ruined. I can't believe she'd kept the truth from me, all that time, when he called her months ago to tell her he got kicked out.

We got into a huge fight. I screamed "I hate you!" and I stormed out of the house. I don't feel bad about saying it. Not even now. How could she do this? It's not fair! Doesn't she know how much I need him in my life?

So I had to prove it to her. I had to prove that, despite what she thought, my life was better with him in it.

I went to the mall, and I did something I'd never done before. I stole.

A CD, a DVD – hell, I didn't even know, and I didn't care. I just grabbed it and ran. Jason had always told me not to steal. That whole, "Do as I say, not as I do," bullshit, you know? Totally hypocritical, but whatever. And as long as I knew he was coming around, as long as I knew the summer was bringing him to me like a gift, there was a reason to listen. But now I was just pissed – at my mother, and even at him. What if I never got to see him again?

Of course, I was caught. Really, it wasn't that big a deal. I mean, they wouldn't have even called the cops, if I hadn't …

I don't care what anyone says. That security guard was groping me. He was grabbing at my chest, okay? What I was I supposed to do? Just let him cop a feel? Jason taught me to defend myself, so I did.

So, yeah. I've been arrested. I have a juvenile record. My mom was so mad, I almost forgot how upset I was at her. And what's worse, my plan backfired. She blamed Jason for putting ideas in my head. Okay, maybe he mentioned that stealing was a rush, but … damn it, my mistakes are not his responsibility! She didn't see it that way, though. In fact, after that, she was more determined than ever to keep us apart.

But it's too late for that now.

After my little shopping mall excursion, things actually calmed down for quite a while. I'd never admit this to anyone, but being taken away in handcuffs, then photographed and fingerprinted at the station – well, it kind of scared me. Jason's probably used to that sort of thing, but I'm not. So I went back to my life, such as it was, trying to ignore the emptiness inside of me. But then a few days ago, the notice came in the mail. And I couldn't ignore it anymore.

I don't care what my mother says, what she thinks, how mad she gets at me for running away, running all the way from Montreal to Toronto. Between the money I had saved from looking after some local brats, and the fistful of dollars I'd stolen – yes, stolen – from her purse – I knew I'd be able to make it. And I looked it up online, I found out where he works. Thank god for the internet or I'd just be wondering around the city, maybe even hanging around that stupid school he got kicked out of, in the hopes of figuring out where the hell he is.

I don't think she was even going to tell him. That's such bullshit! That's completely unfair! I don't care what he's done or how bad she thinks he is! He has the right to know about this. It affects him just as much as it does us. More, even.

And … as stupid as it is, there's a part of me … well, I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm almost 15 now, and I should know better. But I just want him to … fix it. To tell me I don't need to be scared. To tell me this can't really happen, and that he'll keep me safe, protect me. Like he used to.

I walk in to the auto shop. I'm not surprised he works in a place like this. I'm just glad that, despite being expelled, he was still able to get a decent job, doing something he's good at.

I'm glad he's okay, and that he's not in trouble. I'm almost scared to see him, though. It feels like it's been forever since I last saw him.

I finger the chain around my neck, nervously, the one he used to wear, the one he sent to me, this summer, to let me know he hadn't forgotten me. I need to remind myself of that, in this moment – that he hasn't forgotten me, and that he still cares.

"Jason," I say, so softly I don't think he even hears me. Then I see his back stiffen. He turns around, and it hits me. My god, it's him. It's really him.

He just stares at me. I've never seen him look so shocked.

"Abby?"

"I found you," I whisper. I know it's the lamest possible thing to say, but I don't care.

And then I just rush into arms, and we cling to each other, and - I'm safe again, finally. I know I'm safe now.

I want to tell him, I need to tell him about …everything. How I got suspended, how I ran away, how our dad's going to be eligible for parole in just a few short weeks. But in this moment, none of that really matters. All that matters is the fierce joy I get from being reunited with the only guy in my life I can count on, my brother.