Ryo's POV:
When Cal showed up that night to take the boys, Nando insisted on showing her the additions to the album. We had hoped to show her the, to us, amazing progress Miguel had made today, but at first he stubbornly refused to cooperate, standing like a statue as we helped him into his jacket and shoes.
"It's just for the night." I kept assuring him. Nando of course viewed the whole thing as a grand adventure, but I didn't want Miguel to think we were deserting him. "You're going to have a good time with Cal and then come back here tomorrow morning."
We had a pile of pictures on the table that we hadn't been able to fit in the album, and suddenly he walked over and grabbed one. I heard Cal make a sound of surprise. It was a photo of Dee and I. He was holding Nando on his lap and Miguel was sitting between us. Very carefully, he slid it into his jacket pocket.
"Yeah, you keep that." Dee smiled at him. "But you won't need it to remember us by. I promise you are coming back."
Nando squeezed us both and was already at the front door attempting to go through the wood to escape. We hugged Miguel, who didn't respond, and watched Cal hustle them out the door with a promise to have them in bed by 8:30. We could hear Nando arguing about that before the door shut.
Dee wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him, one hand rubbing the small of my back. It felt so good I was nearly purring, and his other hand tangled itself in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth closed over mine.
The phone rang.
"That's Bikky." Dee growled softly. "I'd bet you my life savings. Let the machine get it." He knew I wouldn't do that, and I broke away to answer.
Sure enough, it was Bikky, wanting our opinion about a final class assignment, an analysis of a 30-year-old kidnapping. Did the FBI follow proper procedures, and if not, was that the reason the victim had lost her life?
"I think that it's all pretty subjective." I tried to push Dee's hand off of my kneecap, and he leered at me. "It's hard to say."
"It's hard?" Dee mouthed. "Let me see." His hand moved higher and I squirmed. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I'm trying to help him." I scolded.
"I'm trying to help both of us." He whispered back. "I have something I need to investigate."
"I heard that." Bikky said dryly. "Why don't I call back tomorrow?"
"Yeah, why don't you?" Dee called into the phone. "Happy to help then. Busy right now. Something's come up. Bye!" He grabbed the receiver and slammed it down.
"That wasn't nice!" I grumbled. "We want him to do well, you know. Otherwise he's going to move back in and we'll be supporting him until he's 60."
Dee, looking stricken, grabbed the phone back. I wrestled it away from him and we both collapsed laughing.
"I really love you." He breathed against my neck. "You know that?"
"Love you too."
If the phone rang again that night, neither of us heard it.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
On the sofa bed in Cal's tiny apartment, the boys were awake, listening to the sounds of the building settling down for the night, and the traffic outside.
Three times, unknown to Cal, Nando had gotten up to make sure the front door was locked. He liked Cal, but he didn't feel as safe here as he did with Dee and Ryo. He had seen their guns. They kept them locked up and he'd been told that must never, ever, ever touch them. Cal didn't have gun; he'd asked her. She didn't like guns, but added that she didn't need one. She could do enough damage with just her bare hands, and that she felt sorry for anyone who messed with her.
The evening had been good. They'd eaten a lot of pizza and watched Tarzan. Not the cartoon kind he watched with Dee, but a movie with real people and real animals. Even hippos. He had been having so much fun he hadn't had a chance to get homesick, but it was hitting him now hard.
What if the monster knew they were here? What if he came here to find them? Nando moved closer to Miguel, remembering the horrible pain, pain just as bad as the cigarette burns, and Miguel trying to pull the monster away from him, trying so hard, but the monster was too strong. It was ugly, with jagged teeth and a lumpy green face that he still saw in his nightmares.
Miguel had tried to make the pain go away by singing once the monster was gone, and they'd cried together, asking the Angels to please send their Papa back to keep the monster away from them. What he remembered most was Miguel saying over and over how sorry he was that he hadn't been able to help Nando. But Nando hadn't been able to help Miguel either when the monster attacked him.
At four, he was too young to understand emotional trauma. But he something was wrong with Miguel, very wrong, something beyond just not talking. If he'd been older, he would have said that although the monster was gone, it was still hurting right there with Miguel, haunting him and hurting him every second of the day. He had tried everything to get his brother to talk to him, even if it was just when they were alone, but Miguel refused.
He wondered now with a sick feeling if it was because Miguel was mad at him for not keeping the monster away.
"Hey, Miguel?" He whispered, and his brother looked over at him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop the monster. Please don't be mad at me any more. Do you hate me?"
Miguel put his hand on Nando's cheek and shook his head no firmly. Invisible in the dimness of the room, his eyes were full of overwhelming love and sorrow. He lowered his forehead down to Nando's chest, and began to shake with silent sobs, even in his grief unable to make the slightest noise.
When Cal showed up that night to take the boys, Nando insisted on showing her the additions to the album. We had hoped to show her the, to us, amazing progress Miguel had made today, but at first he stubbornly refused to cooperate, standing like a statue as we helped him into his jacket and shoes.
"It's just for the night." I kept assuring him. Nando of course viewed the whole thing as a grand adventure, but I didn't want Miguel to think we were deserting him. "You're going to have a good time with Cal and then come back here tomorrow morning."
We had a pile of pictures on the table that we hadn't been able to fit in the album, and suddenly he walked over and grabbed one. I heard Cal make a sound of surprise. It was a photo of Dee and I. He was holding Nando on his lap and Miguel was sitting between us. Very carefully, he slid it into his jacket pocket.
"Yeah, you keep that." Dee smiled at him. "But you won't need it to remember us by. I promise you are coming back."
Nando squeezed us both and was already at the front door attempting to go through the wood to escape. We hugged Miguel, who didn't respond, and watched Cal hustle them out the door with a promise to have them in bed by 8:30. We could hear Nando arguing about that before the door shut.
Dee wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him, one hand rubbing the small of my back. It felt so good I was nearly purring, and his other hand tangled itself in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth closed over mine.
The phone rang.
"That's Bikky." Dee growled softly. "I'd bet you my life savings. Let the machine get it." He knew I wouldn't do that, and I broke away to answer.
Sure enough, it was Bikky, wanting our opinion about a final class assignment, an analysis of a 30-year-old kidnapping. Did the FBI follow proper procedures, and if not, was that the reason the victim had lost her life?
"I think that it's all pretty subjective." I tried to push Dee's hand off of my kneecap, and he leered at me. "It's hard to say."
"It's hard?" Dee mouthed. "Let me see." His hand moved higher and I squirmed. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I'm trying to help him." I scolded.
"I'm trying to help both of us." He whispered back. "I have something I need to investigate."
"I heard that." Bikky said dryly. "Why don't I call back tomorrow?"
"Yeah, why don't you?" Dee called into the phone. "Happy to help then. Busy right now. Something's come up. Bye!" He grabbed the receiver and slammed it down.
"That wasn't nice!" I grumbled. "We want him to do well, you know. Otherwise he's going to move back in and we'll be supporting him until he's 60."
Dee, looking stricken, grabbed the phone back. I wrestled it away from him and we both collapsed laughing.
"I really love you." He breathed against my neck. "You know that?"
"Love you too."
If the phone rang again that night, neither of us heard it.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
On the sofa bed in Cal's tiny apartment, the boys were awake, listening to the sounds of the building settling down for the night, and the traffic outside.
Three times, unknown to Cal, Nando had gotten up to make sure the front door was locked. He liked Cal, but he didn't feel as safe here as he did with Dee and Ryo. He had seen their guns. They kept them locked up and he'd been told that must never, ever, ever touch them. Cal didn't have gun; he'd asked her. She didn't like guns, but added that she didn't need one. She could do enough damage with just her bare hands, and that she felt sorry for anyone who messed with her.
The evening had been good. They'd eaten a lot of pizza and watched Tarzan. Not the cartoon kind he watched with Dee, but a movie with real people and real animals. Even hippos. He had been having so much fun he hadn't had a chance to get homesick, but it was hitting him now hard.
What if the monster knew they were here? What if he came here to find them? Nando moved closer to Miguel, remembering the horrible pain, pain just as bad as the cigarette burns, and Miguel trying to pull the monster away from him, trying so hard, but the monster was too strong. It was ugly, with jagged teeth and a lumpy green face that he still saw in his nightmares.
Miguel had tried to make the pain go away by singing once the monster was gone, and they'd cried together, asking the Angels to please send their Papa back to keep the monster away from them. What he remembered most was Miguel saying over and over how sorry he was that he hadn't been able to help Nando. But Nando hadn't been able to help Miguel either when the monster attacked him.
At four, he was too young to understand emotional trauma. But he something was wrong with Miguel, very wrong, something beyond just not talking. If he'd been older, he would have said that although the monster was gone, it was still hurting right there with Miguel, haunting him and hurting him every second of the day. He had tried everything to get his brother to talk to him, even if it was just when they were alone, but Miguel refused.
He wondered now with a sick feeling if it was because Miguel was mad at him for not keeping the monster away.
"Hey, Miguel?" He whispered, and his brother looked over at him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop the monster. Please don't be mad at me any more. Do you hate me?"
Miguel put his hand on Nando's cheek and shook his head no firmly. Invisible in the dimness of the room, his eyes were full of overwhelming love and sorrow. He lowered his forehead down to Nando's chest, and began to shake with silent sobs, even in his grief unable to make the slightest noise.