Saturday morning arrived, and CJ set out to water his turnips before bothering to put on pants, cigarette in his other hand. His dark, grayed eyes cast over his plants. They looked like they might ripen enough soon, but he hadn't even worked out what to do with them when they *were* ready. Does he sell them? To who? Eat them? But he hated turnips. He thought about asking Mark, but he wasn't even sure he wanted to speak to him right now. After CJ had stopped texting him to pick up his food and cigarettes, Mark hadn't said a single word. His fingers tightened around his rusty can until his knuckles turned white.
"CJ?"
He didn't respond or look up. He knew his brother's new voice now too well from the brief samples he'd heard so far. Mark slipped past the ranch gate and walked up to where CJ stood in his underwear, smoking and intensely focusing on a turnipless patch of dirt he was apparently watering.
"Are... are you alright?"
CJ remained motionless and silent.
"I... I haven't heard from you in a few days. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Who cares," CJ forced out, his voice hoarse. He tipped up his watering can, stomped out his cig, and started to walk towards his house.
"I do," Mark fell in step behind him. "When's the last time you ate?"
"Last night."
"Did I do something wrong? Why are you acting like this?"
CJ opened his door and looked over his shoulder at him for a moment, before stepping quickly inside and slamming the door in Mark's face. The door lock clicked.
"CJ! What the hell?" Mark knocked on the door a couple of times, as if it would magically open again for him.
"Go the fuck away."
"What did I do?!"
A minute of silence, then the door lock clicked again and CJ opened the door slightly.
"You're still here, that's what."
"I can't check up on my brother? You suddenly stopped asking me for shit, how am I supposed to know if you're okay?"
"I don't want to talk to anyone."
"Not even me? I thought you wanted to hang out again now that you're here, like we used to."
"I didn't come here to hang out with you. I had you come get me because I didn't have any other choice."
Mark looked a little crestfallen, but straightened himself back up. "I miss you, man. I was hoping we could have some kind of relationship again, now that you came out too."
CJ took a deep breath, then lost all restraint.
"Me not being out wasn't the fucking problem. It was you fucking abandoning me with Mom and Dad! I don't give a shit if you got me out now or not anymore! I can't get over the fact you left me to drown there alone!"
"I didn't abandon you, holy shit. I tried to get you to come with me! You wouldn't go!"
"Because I was the only one of us who even gave half a shit about our fucking granddad!"
"I didn't fucking abandon him! Holy shit! I've told you-"
"He couldn't fucking take care of himself, Mark! You were planning to leave him there to wither and die!"
"Mom and Dad would have t-"
"No! They wouldn't! Because they didn't! Who the hell do you think was bringing him food every fucking day? It wasn't them!" CJ ended on a shriek. Mark went silent.
"I... I didn't know that."
"Yeah, you didn't. Because you didn't fucking care."
"I did care! I loved him! He told me to go! He wanted us both out of there!"
"Of course he did! He knew what they'd do to us both if they found out! But I wasn't going to leave him to die alone of starvation like you!"
"I didn't-"
"Shut the fuck up!" CJ screamed and slammed his door again. He reopened it just enough, then slammed it again. And again. And again.
"Stop it!" Mark gripped the handle and held the door in stasis, both brothers pushing equally from either side. "I! Had! To! Leave! I was going to fucking kill myself if I stayed one more day with them!"
"You don't think I've tried?!" CJ screamed into a sob.
"CJ-"
"Why don't you just fucking call me Chelsea?! Huh?! Why not just keep beating it in to me that you are better than I will ever be?!"
"What are you talking about?!"
"Oh look at Mark, he left home at 18, he got to transition, he got to leave behind everything that hurt him, he got to run his whole ass stupid fucking ranch! He got everything he fucking wanted! He got to just *leave*! You got to just... leave..." CJ's voice slowed into hitched breaths.
"Is... is this what this is about? You're *jealous* of me?" Mark tried to say as softly as possible, but couldn't control his pounding chest.
CJ looked away, his face overflowing with heavy tears. He slowly and gently pushed the door closed, then opened, then closed, then opened.
"CJ..."
The younger brother stared off to the side, his eyes still dull and dark, devoid of any soft blue. "Just... leave me alone."
"But-"
"Leave me alone!" CJ suddenly screeched as loud as he could, and with one final heave, slammed the door so hard Mark could have sworn he heard wood snap. Mark stood, stunned, staring at the door. He heard CJ sobbing hard and bitterly, muffled by shoddy walls.
"i'm sorry," He whispered into the door, before turning and slowly walking away.

CJ slowed to a stillness for a moment before lighting up a new cigarette. He had long since stopped caring about how much he was smoking, he'd be dead soon anyway, he figured. His eyes glazed over and his unbrushed bangs hung covering most of his face. He zoned out until he got to the end of his latest round, and held up his hand to put it out. Except, something stopped him. He stared at his now-unburnt left hand as the ashes began to pool on his right leg. His mind drifted to Vaughn. He wanted to, so bad. He almost did. To burn himself again. To pull his lighter out even, and hold the flame underneath. To set himself on fire. He'd smoked so much he might as well be his own cigarette.
But he couldn't.
He could, but he felt like he'd betray the only person that seemed to care enough to even notice what he'd been doing. A person, that he had only known for a few hours, and would likely never speak to much ever again. Vaughn probably even forgot about the whole thing, and bringing it up when he arrived on Monday seemed fruitless. He probably didn't even remember CJ's name, much less want to ever speak to him again. He probably just had pity on CJ's pathetic state. He crushed the cigarette on the floorboard and left it there.
He bundled himself up in his own arms and relived the first night he hadn't been alone in so many years. Mirabelle's hearty laugh and doting personality. Julia's compliments on his haircut. The way Vaughn shook his head when Mirabelle and Julia went off on life story tangents. The slight smirk and chuckle from Vaughn when Julia teased him about not talking much. The way Vaughn ate with his spoon in his left hand and using his right to gently press his knuckles repeatedly into the edge of the table. The way Vaughn held his wrist that night and seemed to be just as uncomfortable making eye contact as CJ was. There was something so comforting about his quiet presence, but CJ's face soon seized up into a grimace and he hid it beneath his arms. Was he really getting attached to the first man that showed him any vague sense of kindness?