Chapter Twelve
"Hey."
Rocky spun his chair around, finding Emily walking into his room. Not that he even had to turn to see if it was her, he knew as soon as her footsteps started up the stairs. And from the way his mother's voice lilted as soon as she opened the front door.
"Hey," Rocky replied. He pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto his desk. Emily cast him a knowing look and he shrugged. Habits died hard. He still hated to be seen wearing his glasses when he didn't have to be seen.
"Is this a bad time?" Emily dropped onto his bed, placing her large bag on her lap. She started to dig through it, all the while waiting for his response.
"I always have time for you, Em, you know that." Rocky ran his hands through his hair. "And I'm sure you're using this time to make sure I got my homework done."
Emily lifted her head and gave him a withering glance, making him smile, which, in turn ended up making her laugh. "I have to hand it to you, Rocky, usually you'd be freaking out at even the mere idea of getting a suspension. Now you're taking it with grace." She lifted an eyebrow. "Either you're the luckiest person on the face of the planet, or you still made it that your parents didn't find out."
"Do you think I would still be alive if they did?" Rocky pointed out. "Even mom wouldn't understand what happened." He crossed his arms, sticking his hands into his armpits. "I'm going back tomorrow, the time at the reservation helped me figure some things out."
Emily smiled gently. "I heard the Jacksons were there as well."
"Yeah…" Rocky paused. "It was fun."
And it was. The two families were able to get to know each other a little better, out from beneath Sam's watchful eye. Easily able to bring up the rapport they'd had when storming into MedoCal that night. Rocky spent a good amount of time helping the medicine woman after she woke up, but continued to find himself questioning whether or not Riley's head still hurt. Until she yelled at him to back off, anyway. And he thought Colt could yell. She swung from the barking order for him to back off and leave her alone to quickly asking if he was okay or if there was anything he could do.
He simply shook his head and backed off his questioning, his…anxiety. And she swung back to being herself. Outgoing, sassy…something he noticed was a difference compared to Rhuben's playful outgoing tendencies. Also noticed Patrick's extroversion compared to Noah's introversion. No one ever said identical twins had to be identical, but he noticed. Just as he noticed how much care they put into making sure Sydney felt included.
A stark contrast to even how he handled his brothers earlier. Wanted them out of the way. Wanted them to stay out of trouble. Wanted to be in control of everything…because his body wasn't letting him stay in control.
"You should've seen Colt with the horses this time," Rocky continued, having noticed how long of a silence stretched. As if Emily was waiting for him to elaborate on things. (Though he wasn't quite sure what 'things' it was she wanted elaboration on). "They flocked to him. I'm telling you, grandpa really knew what he was doing when he gave us our names."
With a laugh, Emily brushed her hair from her face. "I could've told you that. He's always been good with animals. Remember when I was giving my puppies to good homes? No matter where he went, they followed him around."
"Oh yeah and Tum got mad because he wanted to play with the puppies, but Colt wouldn't let him. And then Jason—"
"—Jason kidnapped one and let Tum over to take care of it." Emily nodded. "It was probably the only time I've ever actually seen his parents care about something. And I think they cared more about the state of their house more than Jason being happy with a pet." Rocky nodded. "Anyway, I came over to see how you felt on your last day of house arrest, and to give you these." She pulled her hand from her purse and handed him a stack of photos.
He took them and smiled, seeing them from the night of the homecoming dance. It was a fun night, as evident in the smiles on all their faces. He hadn't had that much fun in a while. And dances, generally, weren't Rocky's thing. He hated dancing. But liked to party when the timing was right.
And who needed more time to have fun than him and his brothers?
"Thanks Em, I like them a lot." Rocky placed the photos on his desk. Next to the framed picture of his family, and one of him, his brothers, and their grandfather up at the cabin, shortly after their trip to Japan. "But you didn't have to print them out. If you just sent them to me I could've—"
"—I know," Emily interrupted. "I just thought it'd be nice." She shrugged. "And I wouldn't pour over them for hours, trying to make them perfect like someone I know." Rocky smiled at her teasing, his eyes darting to the camera sitting on his desk. When was the last time he picked it up and just shot around? Probably right before senior year started. Before everything important—school, SATs, college, his future—became everything in his life. "What are you going to do?"
"About?"
She started to count on her fingers. "Well, you're getting off suspension so you have to make sure you're up to date. Probably have to avoid Darren and Darryl for the rest of your life. Finish your baseball season, start basketball, actually fill out your college applications—"
"—How do you always now what I'm thinking?"
"I'm your best friend."
"I think Jason would fight you on that one."
Rocky grinned when Emily rolled her eyes and let out a loud huff. It was always a funny thing to watch. His two best friends fight over who was actually his best friend. "Okay, but I've known you longer. And I try to talk you out of the stupid things you guys keep putting yourselves into." Emily reached forward, swatted his knee. "And I know, you know, I'm right."
"Come on, Em. I mean, there are some things I can talk to Jason about that I can't talk to you about." She looked offended for a moment. "Just guy stuff, you know that." A brief silence moved between them. A silence that betrayed the truth. There were some things that he couldn't talk to her about, primarily where some of his deeper thoughts, worries, and…relationships were concerned.
"I know everything about you right?" Emily asked quietly.
Once again, Rocky felt a wave of guilt run through his stomach. He curled his fingers into his palms. Felt the pins and needles once more. He frowned.
Seemed like it was getting worse.
But he did the same thing he always did; take a deep breath, push it away, and rapidly flexed his fingers until the pins and needles subsided. This time, thankfully, he didn't have to wait too long for the feeling eh was growing too used to, to go away. He was getting better at it. But it was starting to worry him how often it was popping up.
"Right," he finally replied.
"How're you doing grandpa?" Tum-Tum asked quietly. He rounded the couch and flopped down next to his grandfather, gently jostling him as the cushions bounced.
He heard dishes and pans banging in the sink as his mother washed them. And also heard his mother's and father's voices, low and rumbling as they argued over…who knows what? At that point it was almost always the same thing. Almost always at the same time. Day in and day out.
Maybe Rocky should've told them about his suspension, Tum-Tum thought. It'd give them something new to fight about.
Mori smiled softly, pressing his book to his lap. "Oh, I'm alright," he replied. The same way he always did when he was asked that question. His eyes shifted over Tum-Tum for a second. The briefest of seconds that always told Mori everything he needed to know about any situation in front of him. "What's troubling you, Little One?"
Tum-Tum smiled back, sitting next to his grandfather. Mori always knew when there was something going on with him. Always knew when he wanted to talk about something. Maybe because he took Tum-Tum more seriously than anyone else in the house. Nevertheless, Tum-Tum didn't want to potentially upset his grandfather, but…they always had honest conversations, why would it stop now?
"How are you really feeling?" Tum-Tum pressed.
Mori's smile faded just slightly. His eyes closed briefly and he shook his head. "I've been better," he said. "I'm tired. I've never been so tired." He reached out and patted Tum-Tum's cheek. "Maybe all those years of chasing after you boys is finally starting to catch up to me."
"You had to chase after mom, first."
"Yes…but she liked to sit still when she was caught."
Tum-Tum laughed quietly. He leaned over, resting his head on his grandfather's shoulder, careful not to lay too heavily on him. He let out a long sigh through his nose. His grandfather was sick. He knew that. Didn't know what he was sick with. When he tried to bring up the conversation with his parents, they brushed him off. And he wasn't going to say anything to Rocky and Colt; they thought he knew nothing about it.
Maybe they were trying to protect him.
But Tum-Tum didn't need to be protected. He wasn't ten anymore. He wasn't the young kid that had to be picked up and thrown around to fight off any of the guys that were attacking them. (Though that was fun). He didn't have to have them watch his back and tell him to shut up and what to do and what not to do. He had a good hand in stopping what was going on at MedoCal, but did they see it? No, they tried to handle everything themselves.
As usual.
It was a regular night, where his wrestling, ninja, and baseball practices worked on his appetite more than he anticipated. All those years of doing so many sports—and his mom and doctor looking closely at his diet—made it so that he didn't snack on candy as much, but his body had gotten used to the high caloric intake it needed to function properly. So, midnight snacks were still a thing for him.
Usually, Tum-Tum had the kitchen to himself. But one night he found his grandfather sitting at the table, going over the crosswords in the newspaper. Or, what looked like he was doing it. As Tum-Tum got closer, he found his grandfather sitting in the chair, eyes closed, pencil gripped tightly in his hand.
"Grandpa?" Tum-Tum went to the fridge and pulled out the leftover roast chicken from that night and brought it to the table. Mori continued to sit quietly. All until Tum-Tum sat down and jostled the table a little. "Grandpa, are you okay?"
Finally, Mori opened his eyes and smiled at Tum-Tum, as if he knew he'd been there all along. "I'm fine, Little One. I was just meditating."
Tum-Tum pressed his lips together. Tired of the lies. "Grandpa, I know when you're meditating, and I know when you're sleeping. You were sleeping." He lowered his voice. "There's something going on, isn't there?" Mori simply blinked. "C'mon grandpa. Rocky and Colt already keep me out of everything and still treat me like a kid. I can handle whatever you have to say."
"I know, Little One. It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's that I don't know how to admit it to myself." Mori cleared his throat. "My body doesn't work like it used to. And I hate having to tell your mother that she'd may be an orphan, soon." Tum-Tum's eyes widened. "I'll always be with you all in spirit, but it nearly killed your mother when your grandma died. The bonds of relationships…special relationships…are like the four strands of rope. When one unravels, the rope becomes weaker. And it'll continue to weaken as time goes on. I don't want you to lose your way in the time of my passing."
Tum-Tum pushed his food aside, looking his grandpa in the eye. "You're going to be okay, grandpa."
He believed that then, he believed it now.
So as he sat on the couch with his grandfather, he said it quietly. He felt Mori's chest swell as he took a deep breath, didn't have to look to know his grandfather was smiling. Because, as grumpy as Mori became as the years went by—of which Mori was teased for—he was always happy being around his family. And it was all that Tum-Tum wanted for him.
It was going to suck the day that Mori passed, but Tum-Tum would sit with him as long as he needed for it.
"Is something bothering you, Tum-Tum?"
"I'm just tired," Tum-Tum replied. And he was becoming fatigued. But how was he supposed to explain to his grandfather that he was tried of everything else. Tired of his parents watching his diet like a hawk. Tired of having to go to doctor's appointments every few months to ensure his blood sugar levels were okay. Tired of Colt treating him like a nuisance. Tired of Rocky never standing up for him. Tired of not being able to live his own life, his father's rules hanging over his heads.
Tired of…being an afterthought to everything.
A/N: Took me long enough for an update, lol. But here's some stuff for Tum-Tum. You didn't really think he'd not notice there was something going wrong with his family around him, did you? But I think that may be one of the things that would change as they got older, would be that he would notice but they'd still treat him like the youngest. So I wanted to focus on that a little.
Hope you liked it.
Also, I promise, promise, promise, that my chapter updates (for all my stories) will get longer.
Cheers,
-Riles