Forcing himself to look up at the man, Craig did his best to maintain his composure. Why did Joey have to ask that? Why that? "I just."

As the teen's voice faded to nothing, the silence announced Craig's true feelings more loudly than any words ever could.

Joey was dumbstruck. Drawing in a deep breath, he desperately attempted to come up with a suitable response. Something brilliant. Insightful. Well, helpful, at the least. How on earth he was supposed to fix this was beyond him.

Sighing, he ran a hand across his head. Turning away for a moment, the man frantically tried to come up with an appropriate response. Releasing the breath he had momentarily forgotten he was holding, he willed himself to turn back to the boy. He was supposed to be the adult here. He needed to figure out how to make this right.

Looking over at the teen, he almost started to laugh. What was wrong with him? How had he been so blind? He didn't need to be brilliant. Or insightful. That wasn't what his stepson needed from him at all.

Craig was a sick, scared kid. And it was about time the only parent he had left in the world started treating him like one.

Being certain to maintain eye contact for as long as possible, Joey slowly crossed the space between himself and the bed. Leaning over carefully, he drew the boy up and into a gentle hug.

Waiting for the teen to relax in his grip, the man was disappointed to realize that his desired response was not what the boy was going to provide. Turning his head slightly to avoid talking into the teen's neck, the man softly addressed his stepson. "That's not going to happen, Craig. The only place you're going is home. With me. Where you belong."

Even as the teen began coughing at the unplanned movement into his stepfather's arms, Craig started to pull away. Joey's continued grip was almost as unexpected as the initial hug itself. The day wasn't turning out at all like he ever would have imagined. Regaining control after a fairly short bout, the teen turned his head in an attempt to get a look at the man who was gently rubbing his back. "Joey."

Craig's questioning call of his name made his stepfather feel much better about his decision to coddle the teen. When he had first pulled the boy to his chest, he had been resolute that it was what he needed to do. But as the teen had grown increasingly tense in his grip, he had begun to question himself. The vulnerability evident in the boy's voice was actually reassuring. The protective wall the teen had built around himself was beginning to crumble away.

Gently shifting himself away from the child, Joey carefully moved his arms from the teen's back to his shoulders. Despite his desire to look the boy in the eye, he wasn't quite ready to let go of his stepson. Meeting the vulnerable, inquisitive gaze of the teen, Joey phrased his next words carefully. "Your home is with me now, Craig. Your place is with me. You need to understand that."

As the teen stared up at him quietly, the man gently pulled the boy back to his chest. Attempting to rub the slight cough out of the child's back, the slight relaxation he felt from Craig provided additional reassurance that he wasn't totally screwing things up with his stepson.

"Joey?" Craig's hesitant voice floated over to him.

Maintaining his gentle hold on the boy, Joey allowed a brief silence before replying simply. "Yeah?"

"Umm, can you let go of me?" Craig asked softly.

The question completely startled the man. Remaining stone still for a long moment, he found himself forgetting to breath. Pulling away slowly, he carefully lowered the teen back onto the pillow. Intensely studying Craig, brows creased in concern, the man's voice revealed his trepidation.

"What's wrong?"