A/n sorry Bout the rather large area of posting nothing!

 But here's chapter 3 in Brads POV

 "Seya Matt!" I yelled as my buddy Matt Silvestri pulled away from the curb, slinging my kit-bag over my shoulder, I started up the porch steps

- And was met by a swirling mass of very pissed off Mark.

"Whoa buddy slow down!" I yelped, attempting to keep my balance as he sped past me.

 "Leave me alone Brad, you don't care, so just leave…. me…. alone." He collapsed in a boneless heap on the top step his head in his hands.

 I think he gave up.

 I sat next to him, I'm sure my face is the picture of confusion, I put my hand on his shoulder – and he flinched away from me.

 "Hey Mark?" I asked quietly

 "What?" He snapped his voice full of venom.

 "Man, what is up with you?" Maybe I could have asked that question in a more tactful way.

 He surged up to full height – way to tall in my opinion – until he was looking me in the eye, "You! You are my problem Brad, you and Randy! I can't do anything right because you're here, because you've done it already! I can't be like you two! You can't know how hard it is being compared to the both of you! I can't do it! If that makes me a loser, or a dork fine! It's the only thing I CAN do right! So you see Brad why don't you just stop caring! I have!" his face contorted and tears spilled down his cheeks, though he didn't sob, silent tears to a world in his opinion that wouldn't listen anyway, wow deep, that's a Randy-esque thought if I ever had one.

 "Mark what-?" I started bewildered; he shook his head exasperatedly and took off down the steps without another word. Mark!" I yelled deciding it was not a good idea to let mark run off alone right now.

 He didn't stop or turn back, just kept on running

 "Okay not good." I sat down on the step, "Alright way out of my depth here, I need someone who's got sensitivity and brains…um seeing as I can't at this moment in time get my hands on Mother Teresa, Randy'll do.

 "Randy!" I yelled as I entered the house and unceremoniously threw my kit bag on the floor.

 "Brad your seventeen we don't have to resort back to indoor, outdoor voices do we?" Dad asked he was in the kitchen next to Randy, who looked incredibly spaced.

 "No, Tool-man. Hey Randy what's up?" He blinked three whole times before focusing on me.

 "Uh nothing." He replied, okay where'd the eloquence go, makes me wonder if good old Randy was treated to a verbal whipping like I was from our charming young brother Mark.

 "So hey Rand can I have a word, now?" I asked forcefully, already dragging him by the elbow to the front door. Leaving a very perplexed dad behind me.

 Out on the porch I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by a suddenly alive and zealous Randy.

 He whipped around to face me his blue eyes bright and his breathing a little erratic, "Brad indulge me here, but lets pay a game of Remember when? Okay?" I eyed him carefully.

 "Okay Randy you go first."

 "Remember when I was eight you were nine and Mark was six and we were playing out in the garden? It was summer and I think the Tigers were playing the Cincinattti Reds, dad was watching the game whilst mom was grocery shopping? Do you remember then Brad?" Wow photographic memory.

 "Yeah I remember it was July 12th and it was the Cleveland Indians. Playoffs." I frowned, "I remember it"

 "Good, so you remember, Mark asking us to push him on the swing because he liked that best?"

 Reluctantly I nodded, "Randy do we have to…" I asked pleading against my will, "I know I'm a bastard do we have to rehash it?"

 "It was me too. And you said you'd play."

When I didn't reply he continued.

 "And we did, well you did, I was to small and not strong enough to push him and we threatened to push him over the bar? Remember that?"

 Snarling I knew I didn't want to hear the end of this story I could remember it all anyway, I pushed Randy against the wall I knew I was holding his shoulders to tightly but I didn't let go. I couldn't. "Shut up Randy!"

He stared at me not really seeing me his eyes were glassy again, "He said he wanted to get off, he told us to stop pushing him and that he didn't want to go over the bar. But we didn't listen did we? Do you remember what happened next Brad?" Finally his tired blue eyes focused on me and the tears I didn't want to cry spilled out.

 "I remember." I admitted my head on his shoulder my hands still holding to tightly.

Flashback

 "Stop Brad I wanna get off!" Mark cried tearfully his hands clutching the chains tightly.

 "It's fun Mark really, Randy and I have done it loads of times right Randy/" Brad called to Randy where he sat on the grass watching his head cocked to one side.

 "Sure Brad, but Mark remember hold on tight." Randy instructed grinning.

 "I don't want to." Mark whimpered.

 Mark didn't hold on tight it wouldn't have mattered anyway, Brads pushes didn't carry the momentum needed and Mark came down halfway over, shouting out Mark hit the ground with a thud and lay still.

 Randy's eyes grew large and he dashed over and knelt beside Mark, "Marky? You okay?"

End Flashback

"Happy now?" I asked raising my head.

I was greeted with a wan smile that was more a quirk of the lips, "No but I'd be a bit more comfortable if you let go." He said softly.

 Hurriedly I let his shoulders go of my death grip. Instantly he rubbed them, and to his credit only winced a little.

 "Where'd he go Randy?" I asked wiping a stray tear away.

 "I think I know." He replied, "Can we take your car?"

 "Yeah sure but-"

 "I'll give directions you won't know it I promise, and as long as we play another round of Remember when? On the way you'll understand when we get there."

 Silently I followed him to the garage remembering that July 12th,Mark had a fractured arm and a concussion.

Brad could remember feeling very sorry and scared at the hospital.

But he couldn't remember him or Randy saying sorry.

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