"Where the hell have you been?" Anna demanded, when Fisk slunk into the house at 4am.
"Around," he said. "What are you doing awake? Go to bed, I'm fine."
"Michael told me everything, Fisk, so whatever you did to avenge the theatre—oh my gods."
Fisk winced as the realization dawned on his sister's face. "Look, don't worry about it."
"You slept with Jack, Fisk, of course I'm going to worry. That boy is toxic. And so is repressing your feelings for Michael all the damned time. Everyone can see it, Fisk, and I don't even see you that often."
"I'm not in – I don't have feelings for Michael, Anna."
"You're not being honest to yourself, and you're not being honest to me!"
"Yeah," Fisk said viciously, "that's me, the liar in the family. I know I'm a fucking disappointment, Anna, you don't have to remind me."
She sighed, looking at him. "Fisk," she said. "I love you."
"You too," he mumbled, as she hugged him.
"I'm incredibly proud of you, Fisk. You're smart and kind and you take care of people. I just worry, okay?"
"I know," he said.
She ruffled his hair. "Go shower. You smell like sex, and it's really gross."
"You seem oddly subdued," Michael said the next morning, as Fisk slumped against the lockers.
"Just get your textbooks and let's go."
X-x-X-x-X
"Where'd you go last night? We were supposed to watch that Firefly marathon on—" Michael broke off, staring into his locker. Fisk looked over his shoulder with a sense of dread, and was not disappointed. There was a picture taped to the back of Michael's locker, printed cheaply on regular computer paper, but it was still recognizably Fisk. Naked. In Jack's room. With the little date and time in the corner. Shit, had there been a camera in that room?
"Son of a bitch."
Michael snatched up the paper, shoving it into his bookbag, and slammed his locker. He had red spots blooming high on his cheeks, and an uncharacteristic scowl. "Excuse me," he said to Fisk, and stalked away.
X-x-X-x-X
"Did you see Sevenson?" someone hissed, while Judith was on the way to her second bell. She stopped dead, making someone behind her curse inventively.
"I didn't think he had it in him to take on Markham like that," someone else said.
Judith grabbed the most recent speaker by the collar and slammed him into the wall. "Tell me what happened. Now."
"All I saw was him looming over Markham, waving a paper around, and threatening to call the fucking cops," he said quickly.
"Thank you," she said, letting go of him and dusting his shirt off for him. "That's all I needed. Carry on."
As he hurried away, she sought out Michael in the crowds. "What happened?" she demanded, as soon as she found him. Fisk was nowhere in sight.
"He was in possession of child pornography," said Michael, but a muscle was jumping in his jaw.
She connected the dots. "Fisk went to him last night to get him to stop sabotaging us, offered sex in return, Jack took a picture, then taunted you with it?"
"Yes."
"I'm gonna kill him."
"No," said Michael, grabbing her arm. "No more escalation. We're at a stalemate. He won't risk sabotaging us, and we won't risk Fisk's face being plastered all over the room."
"How does Fisk feel about all of this?"
It was plain in Michael's face that he hadn't spoken to Fisk since finding out. "What the hell, Sevenson?"
"What?"
"Go talk to my brother. Right now. He's probably wallowing in ridiculous amounts of manpain right now, and I would rather he wear basketball shorts and long socks than be an angst machine."
X-x-X-x-X
"He took advantage of you," Michael blurted out, as soon as he ran into Fisk. "And I don't blame you, okay, I'm mostly angry with Jack. Like, 95%. But I wish you'd been honest with me."
"That's all anybody wants. I'm sick of it. I don't talk about myself, Michael. I don't share how I feel, I don't tell people what I think of them, I don't voice political or religious beliefs, I am not an open person, I am not honest, so stop expecting me to be something I'm not!"
"I know," said Michael.
Fisk glared at him a moment longer before relenting. "Look. I know I should've told you. But if I had, you would've stopped me, and Jack would still be sabotaging the play. It was going to work out perfectly. You'd be happier not knowing, Jack would stop arranging accidents and destroying property, and Makejoye would get to do his play."
"But what about you?"
Fisk frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your plan. Everyone got something out of it, except for you."
"I'm playing the lead," said Fisk, "and I had pretty decent sex, what more could I want?"
"Love? Affection? Something you actually wanted?" Michael suggested.
For a brief moment, Fisk thought back on Anna's tirade about honesty. Then, "Sometimes, Michael," he said, "we have to take what we can get."