CHAPTER 31:

John was awake as Alex got back to the dorm, carrying some breakfast for them both. Sitting in his chair as he usually was and staring out their window at the birds, Alex smiled when John looked over at him with that still half asleep look he had that Alex had missed yesterday. "Good morning, starshine," Alex greeted him. "Feeling a bit better today?"

John raised an arm and stretched in his seat, his face contorting with a suppressed yawn before flopping almost immediately back to his original pose. "Yeah, I think I just needed a good long rest."

"Well, be careful," Alex chuckled, "We are starting law school, so it may very well be that last long rest you have before the semester is done."

"I should be okay, since we'll have a quiet dorm. Hey, did you make two pots of coffee this morning or just the one?"

"Just the one, why?"

"It seemed like there was more coffee this morning. I thought you usually drank more."

Alex handed John his breakfast and pulled his desk chair closer so they could sit together. "I do," he said as he plopped himself beside John. "But I think I should cut back a little. James is right, if I drink too much of it I get really wired and...you might not think I'm so cute and fun anymore."

"I find that hard to believe," John told him. "And even if it was true, I don't think I'd stop seeing you as soft and sweet."

"Oh? And what makes me soft and sweet?" Alex was about to take a bite of his food when John's hand slipped his fingers up under the ponytail Alex had and messaged the base of his neck, causing Alex to go slack at once and moan a little needily. "Tease!" he yelled playfully when John let him go almost at once and smirked at him from over his burrito. "You shouldn't cloud my sensibilities and steal affection from me without my consent, Mr. Laurens."

"Mr. Laurens is my father," John deadpanned to him. "I'll be John or you may slay me where I stand."

"You're not standing tho."

"Where I sit then."

Alex thought about that for a moment. "Mr. John doesn't feel right. Mr. John Laurens then? Hey, do you have a middle name, by chance?"

"Yeah, it's Anthony. Why?"

The smile Alex leveled on John then made his heart skip a beat, almost wicked and full of teasing mirth. "John Anthony Laurens," Alex said as if laying the name out to be examined. "I now have power over you."

John tilted his head at Alex, his brows burrowing in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Fairy logic," Alex explained. "Apparently if you know someone's full name then you have power over them." Some kind of recognition washed over John's face and he nodded as if to agree.

"Mary told me about that once," John said. "So then what will you do with your new found power?"

Alex pretended to think hard about it for a moment. "I can order you to do anything?"

"Allegedly."

"And you'd have to do it, without question?"

"That's the idea."

"Hmm….what should I make you do then?" Alex again made a show of pretending to ponder the matter, though he already knew exactly what he'd ask for. And he hoped that it would only serve to make John's amused smirk widen into a smile. "Maybe I should order you to pet me more?"

John reached out at once and cupped the side of Alex's face, still smirking. "Alexander Lin Hamilton," he said softly and thought the horror that filled Alex's eyes was due only to the realization that John knew his full name too, "I order you to renounce your power over me and never utter my full name for the purpose of your self fulfillment unless it would also bring me joy to serve you of my own volition." He smiled knowingly, thinking he'd been cleaver, but the mirth faded as Alex's expression didn't seem to catch on. "Alex?"

"you….you know my full name…"

"Yeah," John said, confusion etching into his own features.

"I didn't tell you my middle name…"

"Lafayette did—"

"When?!"

John let his roommate go with his own mildly panicked look thinly veiled as weirded out concern. "On the day we moved in together?"

Alex immedatly rubbed at his face, racking his brain. Yes...yes, he did recall being put on edge by Lafayette referring to him by his full name, how had he forgotten that? He blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around it. "He said he went through my social media...He stalked me..."

"I wouldn't...call it stalking..."

"What would you call it then?"

John faltered under the harsh sound of Alex's voice. "He said he was checking up on who I'd be living with," John said, trying to calm the mounting panic he saw growing in Alex. "I told him then it wasn't okay, like I have when he would do so with other roommates I've had."

"It's stalking, John. God, every time I feel like you can't possibly tell me something worse about the guy it's another level of gross."

He stared down at the food he held in his lap, no longer hunger for it. "I'm sorry," John muttered.

"It's not your fault he's an ass." Alex shook his head and dug into his food. "How in the world did you even wind up friends with a guy like that, anyway?"

"...he was the first person...who made me feel like i had a right to exist...after everything that happened to me..."

Alex lowered his burrito, having barely heard the words. He looked over to find John turned away from him and not eating. He meant to ask John what he meant by that, but a ringing from across the room drew their attention, and John got up to answer his cell phone, shoving his food into the minifridge on the way.

"Hey Martha," John said as he held the device up to his face, his ringtone, of course, informing him of who was calling long before he'd looked at the ID.

"Oh good, you're awake," the older of his two sisters greeted him. "Can I talk to you for a sec, is now a good time?"

He turned back to glance at Alex, trying to decide if he should take the conversation into the bathroom or not. Seeing his roommate guilty look down and try to pretend he hadn't been staring made the decision easy to make, and John headed into the bathroom for some privacy. "Yeah, I don't have classes for a bit," he said. "What's up?"

"Are you...doing okay?"

John had to fight to keep the sigh out of his voice but he rolled his eyes as she spoke. "I'm okay," he told her, knowing all too well what words he'd have to say. "Tell mom to stop worrying about me."

"Mom isn't the only one who asked me to call this time."

That gave John pause as he set down the seat of the toilet for a spot to sit down. "Shit, is Dad still mad at me?"

"Mary asked me to call. And don't say shit, John," his sister sighed. "Listen, I don't know what you thought you were doing Saturday night, and I know Dad probably didn't handle it the best either, but if you're going through something you know you can talk to me, right?"

"I already explained everything to Dad."

"Yeah, poorly."

"Hard to say anything right when he won't listen to what I'm saying to begin with."

"Well, do you want to explain it to me then?"

"No."

"How come?"

John picked at the hem of his shirt. "Just don't, is all."

Martha sighed heavily on the other end of the line. "Is it because you think I won't listen to you?"

"It's because I said I don't want to talk about it. You don't need to worry about me, Martha. I'm fine."

"You don't explode on your parents for a little white lie, John."

"So you're calling me a liar too now?"

"It's pretty obvious that you were lying. You don't send your family a text message saying if you disappear or turn up dead soon that you loved them and never meant to hurt them, no matter how drunk you were or what your friends encouraged you to do. Furthermore, I know Laf would not have encouraged you to send something like that, he knows what it would do to the family."

"We had a fight," John threw out, trying to distract her from the topic at hand. "Lafayette and I. We're not friends anymore."

"Oh John. Was that what happened? I'm so sorry."

"It's whatever. He's trash anyway."

"What'd he do that made you two break up?"

"We weren't together."

"John, you don't have to deny your relationships to me. I won't tell Mom or Dad about them. What happened with Laf?"

"He kept pestering me about things I didn't want to talk about."

"John Anthony Laurens," his sister's voice was firm but without the shrill shriek their mother's voice carried when they were in trouble. "Don't you dare sass me about something like this."

"I'm not," John retorted, feeling just as childish now as he did saying the words to either of their parents when he was a kid. "Call him yourself, he'll tell you all kinds of shit Martha. That I'm a liar because he thinks I just told him I went out and slept with someone when I actually did but won't gush all about the details like some teenager talking about their crush, or-or that I'm some perverted closeted freak looking at porn all the time because I don't have a boyfriend, or that I wanna fuck my roommate just because I'm gay!"

"What? Really?"

"Yeah! So excuse me if I'm just a little fucking sick of his bullshit and I'm so sorry if I want to maybe not talk about some things right now, I just had to tell my best friend to go fuck off for literally trying to pry into parts of my life I wanted to stay private and I'm a little damn defensive right now when anyone pokes at those things! You wanna ask Alex about it? I've nearly bitten his head off a few times in the last week for exactly that and I'm sure it's just a great indicator of how much I really wanna fuck him, oh for sure! Also, you're doing such a great job listening to me, Martha. Thank you so much."

"Okay, John, you can cut out the sarcastic theatrics for a moment. Go back a moment-."

"It's not theatics!" John nearly wailed as he interrupted her. "You want me to talk about stuff I don't want to discuss with you or anyone else, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that?"

"John, please try to calm down. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Well you did a shit job of that!"

"Okay, well I'm just trying to understand something here. You went out with someone else, while you were dating Laf?"

"I'm not dating Lafayette!"

"John, please. Please, you're scaring me, please take a few breaths and calm down…" For the first time since he'd picked up the phone John heard the fear in his sister's voice. He grimaced and pressed the heel of his hand into an eye socket, struggling to to keep back the sounds of his crying. "I just want to know that you're okay," his sister's voice said, faint in his ear because the phone had slipped out of position some. "Please, John, I just want to make sure you're okay…"

"I'm fine," he said automatically, the words robotically worn into his voice from the countless times he repeated them to his family members over all the years. "No, really, I'm fine," he gulped back his own pain, setting it aside because at the end of the day he was still the older sibling and he wasn't gunna make his sister worry about him. "I promise Martha...I'm okay."

"I know you are," she sniffled, trying to pull her feelings back into control. "And I'm sorry that you ever felt like you had to send that message, whatever your reasons for sending it were. Look, John, I love you, okay? And I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what, because I'm your sister and I love you more than anything in this life. I'm not mad at you, I'm just scared. I'm so scared now that I'm gunna wake up and get a call from Mom or Dad that you did something you can never take back." He didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. So she went on. "I know you're going along with what Mom and Dad want from you right now because it's easy, John. But you're allowed to choose your own happiness too."

"no...i'm really not..."

"What would make you happy, John? Like, right now?"

"probably having my sister not think i'm about to off myself."

"Jerk. That's a tall order. Can you promise me you won't off yourself today?"

"i will make no such promises; the day is young and i haven't even attempted to put pants on yet."

"That's fair, pants are a bitch. Well, you're making jokes, that's good right?"

He sat up and rubbed at his face. "Martha, I'm not going to kill myself. Not...not immediately anyway..."

There was a moment of silence from her end. "Do you...do you have a date picked out?"

"No," he said immediatly. "I do not have a date picked out to kill myself. Martha, I promise I won't do anything I can't take back."

"What about a plan?"

He wanted to tell her no, no he didn't even have a plan for something like that. He knew he should have said no. He closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to say no to her.

"Yes." Maybe he just needed to be honest about something, maybe he just needed to come clean about one thing so he wasn't burdened with it's weight anymore. "I do. I'm sorry."

Her voice was smaller, but the fear in it was too loud. "Do you want to tell me what your plan is?"

He could have backtracked, but he didn't. "You know my medication? The one pill I take for my panic attacks? Not the ones trying to prevent them but the ones that calm me down, knock me out after I have them?"

"...Yeah?"

"I've been saving all the ones I don't take. I have, like, a 6 month supply or so now. Like...six months if I had to take one every day for that amount of time..."

"John, you can't get that prescription refilled unless you've already taken all the pills. Like that's...they're as needed."

"...you'd be surprised how easy it is to get more meds when you just tell the doctor you took them all..."

"Okay...so...you're just gunna take all these pills you're not supposed to have? That's it?"

"that is the plan, yeah."

"But you don't have a date in mind?"

"no."

"So why do you even have that plan then?"

"in case."

"In case of what, John?"

"...in case my life gets bad again..."

"How bad would it need to get before you decided you didn't want to keep going anymore?"

John was quite longer than he wanted to be. He tried to frame in his mind the point in his life he never wanted to return too, memories hazy and his focus broken. Flashes of things he wanted to forget, things he couldn't dwell on lest he lose more of himself to these memories. "...i can't..." he whispered, he knew he was crying again. "...i can't talk about this..."

"Okay. But your life isn't that bad anymore right, John?" his sister sounded worried, her voice losing it's calm as she sensed his distress. "It's better now right? Maybe not great, maybe not where you want it to be just yet, but is it...is it better? I mean, you're happier now, right, John?"

"...sometimes..."

"John, can you make me a different promise then? Will you call me whenever you don't feel like you're happy?"

"...you can't stay on the phone with me forever, Martha..."

"You can't be depressed and suicidal for the rest of your life."

"Yes I can. But the good news is you wouldn't have to suffer seeing me like that for very long."

"John."

"S'the truth, Martha. I's why I don't tell you guys everything, you and Mary, Henry, Elias, Mom and Dad. None of you need to worry about this."

"We are your family, of course we should worry about you, John."

"Look, the way I see this is that none of my younger siblings should be burdened with what I have to deal with, and Mom and Dad have really fucked me up with the way they worried about everything, so when I tell you that I'm keeping things from you, it's not because I don't think you can't handle it or that telling you is going to do a damn thing to change how I feel. If you want me to call you every god damn day that I'm depressed, Martha I'll call you every god damn day for another fifty years if it'll show you just how fucking deep this pain runs. I love you, and I don't….I don't want to end my life-l"

"Then don't end your life!"

"-But there are things I cannot relive, Martha. And they're buried somewhere in my mind where I can't get them out. They are just there, they've been there for 11 goddamn years and I don't think they're going away any fucking time soon, okay? So every day I have to decide if I'm strong enough to get through the day or not, and sometimes I'm just not. I just can't. It hurts too much. And one day I might just decide I don't want to keep living through this anymore, and I need you to understand that."

She was quiet for a moment as she processed that statement. "How do I help you then? What do you need from me to support you in your darkest hours, John?"

"I dunno, I've gotten this far with what the family has given me-l"

"Okay but John, I think you need more support. Maybe you should be seeing a therapist while you're in Cambridge, or maybe you should be allowed to take a semester off and-l"

"Dad would never allow it. I'm to graduate in three years and I'd better do it like a normal son or else there will be hell to pay. That's all. You know it, I know it, we all know that's what he expects of us as his children."

"I'll convince Mom and she'll talk Dad into changing his mind. It's really that simple John."

"No, it's not. And if you go behind my back and tell Mom or Dad anything I'll deny it."

"Why are you being an ass?"

"Because I'm older than you and need to piss you off somehow. Don't say ass."

"You're not our father."

"Henry said I sounded like Dad the other day."

"He did? Oh, you might get yelled at the next time you see him, by the way."

"Why? What'd I do?"

"You texted the entire family a cryptid message and went missing without answering your phone for the better part of a day. And then Henry says he didn't see you out on campus yesterday, which Mom and I told him might just be because you guys have conflicting schedules, but still, he's worried for you, just like we all are."

"In my defense, I was a little depressed and didn't get out of bed, really."

"But you feel better now right?"

"I guess."

"Well, we love you John. I know you maybe don't think everything is great right now, but it'll get better. You'll see."

"Yeah."

"And you promise you're okay?"

"I swear I'm okay."

"What about seeing a therapist? You know, out in Cambridge? You're still on our parent's insurance, and I'm sure they could-j"

"I stopped going to therapy because I was sick of being told that being gay was the root of all my problems, Martha. Besides, church has that narrative covered already, why do I need a second dose of self loathing every week? And do not be so nieve to tell me that Mom and Dad would dare let me make the decision for myself on who my therapist would be; if they're gunna foot the bill for it you know they're going to be talking to my doctors and making sure I'm not being fed some bullshit about learning to be happy with being gay. So no, I won't be seeking therapy until I can pay for it myself and that…'' he sighed heavily. "I mean, we'll see how soon that happens."

"I'm not gunna let you keep suffering in silence, John."

He bit his tongue against the brutal comment that she'd let him suffer for years before this point because deep down he knew it wasn't true. John had hid so much from the family, from his parents so they couldn't use it against him and from his siblings so they wouldn't be burdened with John's pain. Martha hadn't let him suffer, she just had no idea how deep and dark John's life had been. He didn't want her to know. She shouldn't have to know. "I have to go," was all he gave her instead. "I have to take care of some stuff, and I have classes soon."

"Okay. I love you John. If you can, try calling mom tonight, okay?"

"I love you too," John responded. "Bye."


John finished getting himself ready for the day, saying goodbye to Alex as he rushed out the door ahead of him for his own early morning class. He would have enough time to run to the store and get another computer and if he hurried he could dump the box it came in back at the dorm and maybe have enough time to set it up before he had to be in his first class. He supposed he didn't have any other choice, so he threw his phone, wallet and keys in his backpack, grabbed his hoodie off the hook behind the door, threw on his shoes and set out for the day.

He was just about to step foot off of the official campus grounds when a shout made him stop and look up. Barreling toward him at full speed was his little brother Henry, looking like an angry bull as far as John could tell. Having seen him coming a metaphorical mile off, John was struck with a wicked whisy to run, just a sense of older brother asshollery that he would make his sibling chase him down in that moment. So with a few warm up hopping skips John took off down the street, the unmistakable angry shout of, "HEY!" being screamed after him as soon as Henry realized he was gunna have to run longer then he had anticipated.

John relied upon his high school training and the fact that he was a runner to keep him ahead of Henry, though he should have known the younger male had the stamina to at least keep pace with him. They'd both been high school athletes, although John had had to give his up after a nasty injury that had benched him halfway through junior year and his brother was of course only a few months out of harsh drill practice shape. After sprinting for as long as he could hold out John felt his old injury telling him to stop before he was stopped and he slowed down, almost coming to a complete halt. Or he would have, if Henry hadn't straight up tackled him to the ground with all the knowledge his football training had given him.

Knocked to the ground, the full weight of his brother pinning him and with the wind thrown out of his sails, John surrendered without a further fight. Coughing through trying to gasp for breath and laughing with the delirious good feelings of endorphins coursing through his body, he smirked until his brother pinned both of his wrists. Then John's mind reacted and he fought back, bucking and struggling against the body holding him down.

"STOP FIGHTING, YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD!" Henry screamed.

"Get off me!" John yelled back.

"Why? So you can run off into the woods?!"

"Get Off Of Meeee!"

Someone else grabbed Henry around his waist and pulled him up and off John, strangers intervening on John's behalf to protect him from his brother's assault. Henry screamed and yelled at them to let him go, that he was his brother, that they had no right to get between them, and John's head spun with more flashes of memories he couldn't deal with right then. But he could recognize his brother's panicked voice, louder than the memories. "Let him go!" he yelled as he scrambled to his feet. "He's my brother! It's okay! Let him go!" A moment later Henry had knocked into John again, but this time with less force and they stumbled together but remained upright. John wove off someone asking if the was sure they were alright, dizzy from his run, confused from his fading intrusive thoughts, hear pounding in his chest but the feeling of his brother just bearly a half foot shorter than him squeezing his torso and holding on now as if their lives depended on it. John let that feeling be his grounding.

"You fucking asshole!" Henry shouted at him as soon as they were sure no one was going to step in again.

"Don't...don't say asshole," John chided, bearly registering the words as he attempted to stumble over to a bus stop bench. "I gotta sit down, Henry."

"Where are you going?!" his little brother asked. He didn't let go, but shifted to supporting John more than hindering him. Together they both collapsed on the bench, and John was grateful Henry had at least loosened his grip on his chest, but the younger Laurens instead gripped at and tugged on his clothes in a way that made John want to tease him for being a child. He would have, if his whole body wasn't recovering from the sudden run and the surprise PTSD episode. "Are you listening to me?!" his brother's voice finally cut through his brain fog and John shook his head.

"Gimme a minute," John pleaded.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Just gimme a minute."

Henry snorted, the sound disapproving. "Serves you right for running from me, dickhead. After all the shit you pulled too. You know, Dad is really mad at you right now!"

"Okay," John said, not really able to focus enough to argue back.

"I'm mad at you too, ya know!" Henry said, his voice cracking under a whine, slapping John on the shoulder. "You're so stupid!"

Feeling more grounded than he had been, John asked, "What'd I do?" and earned himself another slap on the arm. "Ow! Watch it!"

"Why didn't you answer Dad when he was calling you on Sunday?!" Henry asked, his voice louder then he meant it to be in his high strung emotions.

"I did," John retorted.

"Not right away! And you weren't at church! That's a sin, John! You're gunna wind up in hell if you don't go to church!"

"It is NOT a sin if I miss one day of church," John sighed.

"Yes it is! If you're screwing around with other guys! That's a sin, John!"

John rubbed at his face, not wanting to deal with the rhetoric again, much less his pissy little brother at all. "I'm not having this conversation," he said as he stood up and looked about to get his bearings. Right, the shop he needed was that way, and he hefted his book bag up on his shoulder and started off.

"You can't just walk away!" Henry screeched, grabbing his own book bag and scrambling after his brother. "John! JOHN! JOHN!" Henry reached for his brother's hand, but John pulled away just in time and quickened his stride. "JOHN!"

"WHAT HENRY?!" he yelled back at his brother.

"Answer my fucking question! Why weren't you at church?! Why didn't you answer when Dad was calling you, huh?"

"None of your fucking business, numbnuts! Get lost!"

Henry jumped right in John's path, forcing him to pull to a stop, and refused to let him past. "Who Is He?!" Henry yelled in John's face. He shoved his brother back as hard as he dared then, yelling, "Who The Fuck Is He Then?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" John said, starting to catch on that Henry was more distraught then he was giving him credit for. "Who is who? And don't say fuck!"

"The man I saw you leaving the bar with last week!"

It took John a whole minute to process what Henry was talking about, his mind wanting to simply deny that his brother was saying what he was actually saying. "How would you know what I was doing at a bar last week? You're not old enough to go to a bar!"

"Never mind what I was doing, this isn't about me! You left with some man and I want to know who the fuck he is!" Henry shoved at John again.

"Stop hitting me, or I'll tell Mom!" John threatened, force of sibling habit.

"Then I'll tell her and Dad I saw you going somewhere with a guy, draped all over him like a wet fucking towel!"

"You wouldn't fucking dare! Don't you ever fucking even joke to me about that!" John seethed, panic immediately gripping him. "I'll tell them you snuck into a bar! That place is 21 and up and you're barely 19!"

"You won't get the chance cuz I'll have already told them myself when I tell on you and that means you're gunna be in way more trouble!" As if their arguing couldn't get any more childish, Henry stuck his tongue out at John like he always did when they were kids and, as per their customs, John tapped his hand quickly on the squishy wet appendage to teach his brother not to do that. Nearly 20 years of sibling disagreements and it had never worked to do anything more than startle Henry into pulling his tongue back in and giving John half a disgustingly wet hand, but old habits die hard it would seem. Unfazed as ever, Henry mearly pulled his tongue back in to ask again, "So who is he, John?"

"Why do you care?" John said, trying to push past his brother. "You said you didn't care if I was gay, remember?"

"Just because you're gay doesn't give you the right to commit sins!" Henry shot back. John got past him and started walking ahead again, so his brother chased after and kept pace with him. "I don't care if you're a faggot, and you're probably gunna go to hell on that alone, but that doesn't mean you just go ahead and commit all the sins, John! You cheated on Lafayette, that's a sin! You should be more faithful to your boyfriend or whatever!"

John growled, becoming more frustrated by the second. "I told you NOT to use that word, Henry! And frankly, whoever I'm sleeping with is none of your business. And finally, Lafayette and I are NOT dating!" He resisted throwing out how impossible it was to cheat on someone like Lafayette as another point, not at all wanting to have to explain in any way shape or form what his relationship with the French man had been like.

"Martha said you were!" Henry protested. "She said we had to respect Lafayette as one of the family now, even if Mom and Dad wouldn't accept your stupid relationship!"

"When did she say that?!"

"The first day we were here when the family went out to lunch and Dad sent us out to the car while he tried to argue with the waitstaff about who paid the bill! You were standing right there! How do you not remember?! You didn't protest her comments, so we all assumed you guys were dating!"

John came to a sudden stop, whirling in his brother and yanking him back as he didn't stop in time. "Okay, regardless of what Martha said," he started, "I, myself, am telling you that I am not dating Lafayette, do you understand? He's not my boyfriend, Henry. And I just got off the phone with her this morning where we talked about that, so I don't want to hear any more about this nonsense."

"Okay, then who is he?" Henry asked again. "That man you left the bar with? Is he your boyfriend now?"

He felt his face grow hot, from embarrassment and shame, John's entire body tensed as he was confronted with what had happened. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, squeezing him in his fear. "Listen to me, if you ever see that man again you stay away from him, ya hear me?! He's bad, Henry! He's a bad, bad man and I better not EVER see you talking to him or find out you interacted with him at all, do you understand me?!"

The younger male rolled his eyes. "Oh please, you just don't want your little brother embarrassing you in front of your new boy toy."

"I mean this Henry!" John yelled, giving the other male "Don't fucking go near that man!" He pulled his brother in for a sudden hug and squeezed him as tight as he could. "i'm not gunna let him hurt you," he muttered against the crown of Henry's head. "i'm not gunna let him hurt you too…"

His little brother's arms snaked around his waist and under his backpack, returning the squeeze and letting John hold him. Eventually John felt comfortable letting his sibling go a little, but he made Henry promise him he wouldn't talk to the man he'd seen John with that night. "What happened tho?" Henry couldn't help but ask, curious even more when John grimaced and looked away from him. "John, can't I at least know why he's bad?"

"He's just bad, okay Henry? I don't want to tell you anything more, but….he's really bad."

Henry looked a little disbelieving. "Did you want him as a boyfriend and he told you no?"

"What? No!"

"I don't know how being gay works but I don't think you can just fuck a guy into being your boyfriend, John."

"I know that, that's not what happened. Look, I have to take care of some stuff and I won't have time too so, we gotta get back to moving, okay squirt?" John resumed his walk and again, Henry chased after and kept pace with him.

"So you're really not gunna tell me huh?" Henry said.

"You want an idea of how bad he is?" John asked as they headed into the parking lot for the shopping center John was looking for. "He stole my computer, for starters," John indicated what store they were headed towards. "And….I've seen him be unnecessarily cruel, okay?"

"He the one who gave you that shiner?" Henry asked. Unconsciously John brushed his hand against the cheek that was still bruised, noting that it only hurt now if touched.

"Yeah," he said quickly. He reached the doors to the store he wanted and they opened automatically. John looked around quickly before flagging down an employee and asking where their laptop and computer section was. She pointed them to a back corner of the store and he thanked her, then headed that way with his little brother skipping along on his heels.

"You want me to catch him in a dark alleyway somewhere and take care of him for you?" Henry asked once they were out of earshot.

"No, I want you to stay away from him, Henry."

"You know, I'm not a little kid, right? I got a baseball bat."

"Yeah, that you're terrible at swinging."

"I still have one tho."

"On you?"

"No! Back at my room!"

"Ah, well, good luck walking down dark alleyways then."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Don't say bitch, John."

"You're not our father, Henry." John smiled as he looked over the specs of the display laptops, trying to pick one that was closest to what he'd had. He was also hoping to find one that looked at least close enough like his old laptop as well that his parents wouldn't question where the new device had come from.

"You probably should call Mom and Dad before you use their money to buy a new laptop," Henry told him, as if reading his mind.

"I'm not using Mom and Dad's money," John said. "I'm using my own, so I can buy what I want."

"Since when do you have money?" Henry asked. "I don't even have money!"

"Since I got a job and wasn't stupid enough to tell Mom and Dad about it," John said. He decided on a laptop and rang the bell for a customer service representative to come unlock the case they were kept in. "Bit of advice, squirt, don't tell Mom and Dad about your first job."

"Why not? Martha says it sucks they won't pay for everything anymore, but it's not like they cut her off, they still give her some money. And they said whatever is left over from her college fund is still hers when she graduates, so it's like whatever you spend now is really just staying in that college fund until you graduate."

"Yeah, but Mom and Dad just opened five accounts with one of our names and then both of their names, meaning they still own every single cent that they put into our college funds. That's why they monitor that we aren't spending it frivolously, or stupidly. If I pulled that money out of the account and put it into one with only my name on it, they would flip out, and could definitely force me to put it back because the account has their names on it and if I don't they could have a case for grand theft. I can't even close that account without their approval, the only thing that I could do is remove my name from the account and I would only be paid out a third of what was in it. And I just really dislike being monitored like that."

"How come?" Henry asked, fiddling with something on a shelf next to the computers.

"Just do," John replied. He thanked the clerk for helping him as he took the laptop box and started heading back toward the front of the store to check out.

"Wait, can we look at headphones real fast?" his brother said, tugging in his free arm.

"You can, I gotta get back to my dorm with this so I can get to my first class on time."

"Okay, I'll be quick, but don't leave without me!" Henry said and bolted off into the store. John shook his head as he got in line and waited to get to the front. It wasn't horribly busy and the queue moved quickly, but his brother came charging back just before John was about to head to the next available cashier. "Okay, I found one!"

"Found one what?" John said eyeing the package of headphones his brother was holding as he lifted his laptop box onto the counter. Henry said nothing and just placed the headphones on the counter for the cashier to ring up as well. "Hold on," John told her before she scanned the headphones. "The hell is this? I'm not buying you these."

"Sure you are," Henry said, a sneaky little sibling smirk on his face. "If you don't want me to tell Mom and Dad that you have a jo~ob no~ow!" he sing-songed at the end and his smile widened.

"Are you blackmailing me?! You little shit!" John yelled at him.

"It's also payback for hitting me the other day," Henry huffed. "Besides, they're only twenty-five dollars, it's not like I grabbed a ridiculously expensive pair. You're purchasing a whole $600 computer, I'm sure you can afford the headphones too."

He sighed and rolled his eyes but allowed the cashier to ring him up for the headphones too. "You are such a little fucking shit," John muttered to himself as he swiped his personal bank card. "I can't believe I'm related to you."

"Also consider it payment for not telling our other siblings," Henry retorted. He smiled happily as John finished up and handed him the headphones he'd bribed from him. "Thank you John, you're my favorite big brother."

"I'm your only big brother." he gratefully took his receipt and waved goodbye to the cashier, and the clerk by the door as they exited. "I know I have somewhere to be, don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Not for another two hours," Henry said. He flinched a little under his brother's pointed glare. "But I guess I could go do something else. Hey John?"

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding tired. As they walked an arm snaked around his wait again and gave him a hug from his side.

"I love you."

"...I love you too, squirt."


Alex knew he was ambitious, that's why he'd been taking 6am classes every semester for the last four years, as well as classes as late as 8pm, and the only reason he didn't go til midnight or later was because he needed some time left open for work and studying. John, however, didn't seem to share his need to get up and get going right off the bat. So after breakfast, and as soon as John vacated the bathroom again, Alex washed up and collected his things to head out the door. He said goodbye to John, making his roommate promise he'd go to his classes today since Alex would be saving him seats in the few they had wound up together in, and was out the door with a million other things running through his mind on what he needed to get done.

He didn't even notice that he was being followed.

People passed him by and Alex barely gave any acknowledgement to anyone as he hurried along, earbuds cramped into his skull, humming along quietly as he made his way across campus to get to class. He was just about to open the door to the old historical building the classroom was housed in, tucked around to the less used back entrance that was closer to the room he'd need, when someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face them, pinning him against the wall next to the door. Alex screamed on instinct and was slapped immediately.

"Shut up, fuckhead, it's just me!" an aggressive and regrettably familiar voice yelled at him. Alex needed a minute to process that he'd been hit, and that he apparently wasn't about to be kidnapped, before turning a glare onto Charles Lee. "Did you really fucking think you could blow me off on Saturday and then not show up to work for the next couple of days hoping I'd forget you were a little pussy bitch?!"

"Oh, good morning Mister Charles," Alex started in on some fakely sweet and mocking tone. "My, my, now ain't you just a bright shining ray of southern sunshine today! To what do I owe this most sudden and pleasant visit?"

Charles gave him a confused look. "Why are you talking like that?" he said, failing to catch the sarcasm in Alex's voice.

"It's called doing a bit, Charles. You should know how to do one by now."

"Nevermind. You owe me a secession, asshole."

Alex rolled his eyes and attempted to slide past him to get inside, but his coworker grabbed his shoulder again and swung him back to his pinned position. "Charles!" Alex yelled as he was slammed into the wall again. "What the fuck?!"

"You don't get to just blow me off like I'm not important!" Charles screamed in his face. Alex recoiled from the spittle and the venom in his voice. "You said you were gunna be a part of my show on Saturday and then you bailed as soon as you were done with your own shit and you left me standing there with my dick in my hands and no one to stick it in!"

"One!" Alex shouted, pushing back against Charles' grip on his shoulder; he couldn't break his hold. "I never fucking said you could stick your dick anywhere but maybe my mouth when I gave you a blowjob, you were always supposed to figure out a way to entertain your audience on your own! Two!" He tried again to shake free of Charles' grasp on him, but the man only squeezed tighter. "I don't owe you anything, dickweed! You need to take responsibility for your own actions and figure out how to lead a session solo. Litterally everyone else in The Company can do it, it's not fucking hard, so figure it out on your own! Three!" Alex struggled harder this time. "Something came up, something way bigger then a fucking blowjob, and I had to be someplace else for my own safety!"

"Yeah, right, where the fuck would you even go?" Charles said, tightening his hold of Alex again and pinning him harder into the wall, forcing a leg up between Alex's that hit against his sensitive areas in a way that made Alex grit his teeth as Chrales used his whole body now to restrain him. Alex recoiled and forced himself to stop struggling. This wasn't their first time doing this and Alex knew if he pretended to fawn, he could break free as soon as Charles loosened his grip.

"I had to go to Ben's house," Alex said through gritted teeth.

Charles snorted at him. "That old limp dick? He wasn't even working that night. So what was so important that you blew me off for him? Did you have a date to suck him off instead?"

"You know company policy says we can't date other co-workers," Alex replied. "So get your goddamn knee out from between my legs and stop grinding on me already." He recoiled again as a tongue started at the base of his neck and was slowly dragged up against his face, ending with a sharp nip on his ear and Alex hated the way it elicited a sudden shot of arousal in him. Charles ground his hips hard against Alex's, dry humping him aggressively.

"You got a thing for shrivled up old man ballsacks, you queer fuck?" Charles hissed in his ear. "Does thinking of his ripe old dick in your mouth get you off?"

Alex grunted against the unsatisfying friction Charles was trying to apply. "Well, he's better at foreplay then you, so yeah." He was relieved when Charles seemed to let him go, but ultimately surprised when he was slapped again, this time hard enough that he stumbled to the side with the force of it. He dropped to his hands and knees, his mind reeling as it processed the assault, and before he could come up with a retort his ass was slapped just as hard. Alex yipped and rolled onto his back, the messenger bag he carried to class falling over his lap before it was picked up and thrown over his head. He coiled in on himself reflexsivly and screamed in a mild panic which only got worse as the weight of someone pinned his hips to the concrete ground with their own. He was slapped again.

"If you want to play rough you know I could definitely get into that," Charles said with a wicked grin.

"Get off!" Alex cried, slapping at his coworker's thighs, attempting to irritate him into letting him go. "This isn't funny, Charles!"

"What's a matter whore? I thought you liked getting fucked in the ass? Or am I just not good enough because I'm not old enough for you?" He grabbed hold of Alex's hands and pinned them down on either side of him, bearing more weight down on Alex.

Alex yelled for help again, cursing his own stupid desire to take the back entrance to this building where no one really ventured that often. He was slapped again, but his newly freed hand was pinned almost immediately when he tried to retaliate in kind. Alex was too busy squirming and trying to break free that he didn't hear the sounds of someone charging up the concrete steps to confront his assailant.

John ripped his backpack off his shoulders and used its weight as a weapon to swing at Charles' head, but the man saw his attack in time and blocked it with his hands. He still had the full force of the swing push him back off of Alex, and John then turned his backpack into a malleable and makeshift shield, swinging blow after blow after blow around it and aiming for Charles face.A few hits landed, but they mostly made him scramble to back up as neither of his hands could release hold of the bookbag between them without threat of John being able to maneuver him into a better position to be hit, allowing Alex to roll free and unfortunately keeping Charles down nearly under John as he was relentless in his own attack. Arms grabbed John around his midriff and pulled him back, and Alex ignored the pained cry as he dragged his roommate away. "Stop, stop!" Alex cried, as he turned John away and got between him and Charles who was now getting to his feet, throwing aside the backpack John had to relinquish. "Charles, Stop!"

"Fuck Off Alex!" Charles said, shoving him aside. "I'll Deal With You When I'm Done Beating The Shit Out Of Your Fucking Bitch Ass Roommate! Where's Your Little Pellet Gun Now?! You Want Me To Even Out Your Face For You?!"

John didn't say anything, holding his stomach like he was in pain or injured. Alex grabbing and yanking him away had hurt, and there was a still dull throbbing in his midriff, but he was baiting the other man to think he was weak. John was completely ready to berserk on Charles as soon as he got to close.

"Charles!" Alex said as he again stepped between them. "Knock! It! Off!"

"Oh what the fuck are you gunna do, huh? You're no better at fighting then him!"

"I'll call Aaron, is that what you want? Do you really fucking think he's going to think anything you tried was fucking appropreate just now?!" Alex yelled, trembling as he could literally feel how much these two men wanted to just beat the shit out of each other. John wrapped an arm around Alex's midriff, positioning himself in such a way that if Charles charged them he could get Alex behind him quickly and hopefully still have time to defend himself, if he could turn back around in time. He glared over Alex's shoulder at the other man, nearly daring him to try anything.

"Oh Go Ahead And Call Aaron!" Charles shot back. "And You'd Better Fucking Tell Him You Owe Me A Session, You Fucking Fag!"

"I don't owe you shit, I was doing you a favor, not that you'll ever pay me back for it!"

"Oh fuck off, I don't need a whore like you-"

"You LITERALLY BEGGED Me To Help You Last Week!"

"And That Was Clearly A Waste Of My Time, I Shoulda Just Snuck A Goddamn Hooker Into My Studio Instead Of Asking An STD Riddled FuckFace Like You To Suck My Dick!"

"Then Next Time Do That And Get Yourself Fired Because Aaron Told You To Fucking Stop Doing That And You Can't Work With Anyone Beacuse We All Refuse To Work With You!"

"You Didn't Fucking Refuse To Work With Me, You Said You Would And Then You Bailed, Like A Fucking Bitch!"

"Well What The Fuck Do You Want Me To Do About It?! Something! Came! UP!"

"I Want You to Make Up The FUCKING Session You Cost Me, Asshole!"

"FINE! What Day?!"

"Tomorrow Night!"

"I Can't!"

"Why Not?!"

"Fuck You I Have A Life, That's Why Not!"

"Thursday Then!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

"Meet Me Outside The Building At 8PM!"

"I Will!"

"You'd Better!"

"I Said I Will!"

"ladies," John mumbled low enough that Alex could hear him. "you're both pretty…" Alex snorted and spared John a glance.

"Yo, what'd he say?" Charles shouted.

"Nothing," Alex defended. "I'm fucking late for class, Charles. I'll see you in two days, now get lost."

"Don't you fucking bail on me Alex," Charles said and he decended the steps. "I mean it. You'll regret it if you do."

"Sure, whatever," Alex muttered as his coworker finally moved on. His mood was still sour after he was sure he was left alone with John. "Don't. Ask me. Anything."

"Sorry," John said as he let go of his protective hold on Alex. "But I gotta ask you one thing. It's important."

Alex shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "What then?" he relented. He went to go retrieve the messenger bag that had been ripped off him and tried to reel in his furious anger.

"Do you want me to bite him with my shark did the next time I see him?"

Alex tried to maintain looking upset. He really tried. But the reminder of their absurd little injoke pulled a smile out of him anyway and he began to chuckle. John hobbled over to get his own discarded backpack, a small smirk on his face from the pride he felt in making Alex smile a little bit.

"No, you need to stay away from dicks like that. Not worth it," Alex told him. "I'm glad you made it to class, John."

"Almost late, but just in time," John told him as he carefully patted Alex's shoulder to give him some comfort. "C'mon, class may not have started yet, but we want good seats."

"Usually I want front and center, but today might be a back corner kind of day, so I hope we can find one of those."

"Same."

They filed into the building and found the room this particular course was being held in, shuffling in as surprisingly not the last students to turn up. Students milled about, chatting to one another in a steady buzz as the professor hadn't shown up yet. Alex carefully trudged ahead to look for somewhere he and John could sit together. The back was already filled up and the only place where there were any seats side by side was down in the front row, so Alex sighed and snagged two spots, slightly worried as John was a little slower to limp down after him.

"You okay?" he asked, full of concern.

"My midriff hurts a bit from when you grabbed me," John said. "It's nothing bad tho, I'll ice it later."

"Sorry," Alex still mumbled. "And John?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

John gave him a faint smile and meant to tell him it was no problem when a voice called out above the din of students talking, "Alright everyone, take your seats and settle down, class is starting now!" Everyone turned to look at the bald man who had spoken as he walked in from the doorway and down toward the front of the class. Beside him, John heard Alex suck in a breath and shuffle in his seat. He looked back to see Alex pulling the crowl of his hood up and tightening the strings to nearly block out his face. John wanted to ask what was wrong, but the man's voice continued to dictate, "I will do a roll call once and only once, from then on it is your responsibility to be here on time because you will be getting credit for turning up to class on time. If you are late, see me after class. If you cannot make it to class for more than a day, it will be your responsibility to email me for the make up work so that your final grade will not suffer. And yes, your final grade will suffer if you do not show up to class."

"please, no," Alex muttered, sinking in his seat and trying to disappear. "please no, not him, why him, why do you hate me, fuck…."

John leaned over and asked, "hey, do you know him Alex?"

"My name is Mr. Washington," their professor stated as Alex groaned again, writing it out on the board and a school related email address under it that was clearly his. He turned to face the class, and despite his stern opening speech he smiled warmly at the sea of students. "Welcome to Criminal Law, ladies and gentlemen."

END CHAPTER