Chapter Ten: Price of our Choices
Poking her new babysitter in the side, the sleepy child patiently waited for him to stir, clutching Goober tightly in her arms. She watched the sleepy young man rubbing the sleep from his eyes, before he rolled over to face her, giving her a confused look. "Where's my Daddy, Uncle Greg?" She asked him.
"Daddy?" Greg struggled to a sitting position, realising he had fallen asleep on Nick's sofa. "Oh, your Daddy. Well... see, he had to go away for a little while. To visit your brother, you know, Bradley." Tayla gave him a nod, handing him his dropped phone from the sofa. "Thanks. So, eh... how about some breakfast? I can make pancakes, waffles, toast, bacon, pretty much anything you'd ever want for breakfast. It's just dinners I'm not so good at. I can make the basic chicken curry or something, but that's just cutting and stirring."
The child in front of him giggled softly. "Daddy says you talk too much."
Greg giggled in return, playfully ruffling his hand through her hair. "I know, everyone says that. So, whaddya fancy for breakfast?" He asked her again, looking into her sleepy little eyes. "We can call yah Daddy after breakfast; see how his flight went and how Bradley is." He suggested.
Tayla nodded her little head. "Pancakes, please. Daddy always makes them."
"Pancakes it is." Greg struggled to his feet, leading the way to the kitchen. He searched the cupboards for the things he needed, before he lifted Tayla onto the counter, so she could help with the mixing. "Don't let Goober put his paws in the mixture. I don't know about you, but I don't like furry pancakes."
Tayla sweetly giggled, taking the spoon from Greg's hands.
Greg looked round as Nick's phone started to ring, leaving Tayla sat on the counter, while he rushed to answer it. "Hello?"
"Hello, this is Doctor Hobbs from Desert Palms children's unit. Is Mr Stokes there?"
"Umm... no, he's out of town at the moment." Greg looked around for a notepad, finding one right by the phone, with a pen next to it. "Can I take a message?"
"Yes, tell him to give me a call as soon as he gets back. It's regarding his daughter, Willa. We're ready to release her from the hospital."
"Oh, I'll tell him right away." Greg jotted it down, wondering how Nick could forget about her, when he suddenly rushed off. He set the phone down, hurrying back to the kitchen to help Tayla, when the phone started to ring again. "I thought the phones supposed to ring less when the owners out of town?" He asked no one in particular, as he made his way back to the phone. "Hello?"
"It's me." Nick answered. "I didn't know if you'd be awake yet, but I thought I'd try. Where's Tayla, is she okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. We were just making pancakes. The hospital just called, did you forget that they were releasing... you know who today."
Nick slapped himself in the head, realising he had forgotten that Willa was being released today. "Damn it, okay Greg, I need you to do me another favour."
"Another one? You're gonna owe me big time for this, Tex."
"I swear I will." Nick assured him. "Can you call, Angela? Her number will be on the fridge. Tell her about Willa, and I'll be there as soon as I can. She has legal custody of her at the moment anyway."
"Okay, can you please talk to Tayla though? I'm a terrible liar, so I told her that you were visiting her brother." He whispered into the phone, making sure Tayla was still sat on the counter. "Please Nicky, I can't look your little girl in the eye and lie to her."
"Okay, put her on."
Greg smiled into the phone, then hurried through to the kitchen. He stopped her from mixing a moment, handing her over the phone. "It's your Daddy."
"Daddy!" Tayla excitedly shrieked into the phone. "When are you coming home?" She asked him, clutching Goober against her chest again. "Yes, Greg's making pancakes. He slept on the sofa, and he snores." She giggled into the phone, catching Greg rolling his eyes at her. "When are you coming home?" She asked him again. "Okay . . . I love you and I miss you too, Daddy." Tayla handed the phone back to Greg, before she started stirring again.
"Keep me posted, Nicky." Greg warned him.
"Promise. I love you and all, Greg." He spoke softly, hanging up before Greg could answer him back.
Greg slowly put the phone down, giving Tayla a smile as she looked up at him. "We better get these in the frying pan. I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He smiled at her, carefully lifting her off the counter, before he got started on frying the pancakes.
Tayla stepped around Greg to get the cutlery and plates out, setting them down at one end of the table. Greg watched her carefully arranging the knives and forks, before she took her seat, completely unaware of what was going on. Greg wished he could tell her, but he couldn't break his promise to Nick, and he didn't think that her innocent little mind could take it.
"Deacon, Deacon Stone." Samantha set a coffee down in front of Nick, taking a seat opposite him. "He's been here a couple of times in the past few weeks. He never stayed for very long. Except the other week. Bradley was paintin' the back field fences," She indicated towards them. "Deacon stayed for a couple of hours, helping him to paint them. He seemed a little... uncomfortable though."
"Who?" Nick asked her.
"Bradley." She rested on her elbow, looking into Nick's eyes. "He always seemed uncomfortable around Deacon. I don't know why, he's such a sweet boy. Bradley seemed to have had a fallin' out with his other friends, Calvin, Ross... there's a few others. I don't keep track of them all. But Deacon was always over here."
"I remember Deacon." He nodded, as he used to be Bradley's best friend as child. They always did everything together. "You've been round to see him already?"
"He wasn't there." She shook her head. "His father was, but he didn't know where Deacon was. He didn't exactly care either. He was more concerned with what was on the television. Deacon's mother used to be so much nicer. She moved to New York a couple of years ago."
"This Deacon, what's his address?" He asked, eager to find him, so he knew his son hadn't run off with him.
Samantha turned towards her address book on the fridge, just as her husband walked into the room. Gary suddenly turned pale as he saw Nick sat in the kitchen, quickly hiding his bruised hand behind his back.
"Alright Nick, I didn't know you were in town."
"I told you I called him." Samantha reminded him, handing the address over to Nick. "It's a blue door, and a really tatty garden. The house hasn't been the same since the parents' divorce."
"Okay, let me know if you hear from him. I'm on my cell." Nick tapped his phone, climbing to his feet. He gave Gary a curious look as the man anxiously looked around the kitchen, before he left the house, climbing back into his rental car outside.
"What's the matter with you?" Samantha gave her husband a curious look.
"Eh... nothin'." Gary shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. "I better get off to work. Call me when you find him. I'm worried about him."
Samantha gave her husband a smile. "I know you are. We'll find him, especially now that his father's here. If anyone can find him, he can." Gary gave her a nod, anxiously biting his lower lip, as he feared the outcome if Nick really did find him before he did.
While Bradley was sleeping, Deacon adjusted the blanket around his friend's fragile body, before he climbed to his feet. He took another curious look at the younger boy, wondering what he was going to do about him. He wanted to tell his mother where he was or get him some help, but he had to respect his friend's wishes and let him be alone, or he'd never forgive him.
Deacon grabbed his bike from the long grass outside, adjusting his bag on his back, before he climbed aboard. He pedalled back through the long grass towards the gate, clicking it shut behind him, before he rode in the direction of his house.
He dropped his bike to the gravel of his drive once he arrived, spotting an unfamiliar car in the driveway. As soon as he entered the house, he could hear his father shouting over the top of another man's voice. He made his way through to the kitchen, feeling as though he was stuck in one of those nightmares, where he was suddenly pushed out on stage in front of a crowd of people, not knowing his lines or what he was doing.
"Where have you been?" His father instantly shouted at him. "People keep comin' round 'ere, accusin' you of knowin' somethin' about this missin' kid!" He dragged his son over to the table, pushing him into one of the chairs. "You better start tellin' the truth!"
"Easy." Nick stopped the man from hurting his son, sensing it wasn't anything new to Deacon, as he seemed pretty used to the treatment. "Listen Deacon, you're not in trouble or anythin'. I just need to know if you've heard from Bradley."
Deacon looked up at Nick, nervously shaking his head. "No, I... I haven't."
The boy's stammering was a clear sign that he was lying.
"Can I talk to him alone a sec?" Nick asked Deacon's father, watching the man giving him a frown, before he reluctantly left the room. "Okay Deacon, this is really important. He's only thirteen. He's got money, his passport and some of his clothes are missin'. You're not in any trouble; I just need to know if you've heard anythin' from him. When was the last time you saw him?"
Deacon anxiously looked down at his hands in his lap, running his teeth across his lower lip.
"Hey, if you care about him, tell me where he is." He knelt down in front of the boy, who reminded him a lot of himself at that age, explaining, "Bradley means the world to me, Deacon. I've gotta know that he's okay. Please, just tell me where he is. I won't tell him that it was you."
Deacon shook his head, "I don't know where he is, I swear."
"When was the last time you saw him then?" Nick asked him, trying to keep himself calm, as he thought Deacon would respond better than a threatening tone, like he was used to from his own father. "Does he have a special place that he might go to? A favourite place. Somewhere that he feels safe."
"You don't even care. You just wonna find him and go." Deacon snapped, folding his arms across his chest. "Why should I help you? You're all the same."
"You know where he is?"
"I'm not tellin' you, and you can't make me. You'll have to kill me first." Deacon climbed to his feet, going for the door.
Nick grabbed his arms to stop him, looking at the fear in the boy's eyes. He could feel a tremble running through Deacon's arms, as if he was terrified of what he was going to do to him.
Instead of hurting him though, Nick released his grip on his arms, watching the relief washing over Deacon's face.
The teenager bumped into the table as he turned for the door, giving Nick a fearful look, before he hurried up the stairs to his room.
Nick rolled his eyes at himself, wishing Deacon wasn't just a child, as he knew some ways of getting people to tell him things. As this wasn't a case and Deacon wasn't a suspect though, he'd have to find another way to get through to him in order to find his son.
"One grilled cheese and ham sandwich, with the crusts cut off." Greg set the plate in front of Tayla, watching her inspecting it to make sure that it was up to her standards, before she lifted one sandwich into her hands, taking her first bite. "So, whaddya think? Is it as good as your Daddy's?"
Tayla swished the flavour around in her mouth a bit, before she swallowed her first mouthful, giving Greg a nod. "It's okay."
"Just... okay?" He asked her surprised, taking a seat beside her at the table. "What's wrong with it?" He felt as though he was being criticized by a professional food critic, forgetting that she was only a seven year old girl.
"Breads soggy. Daddy toasts it first, so the cheese doesn't make it soggy."
"Oh." He nodded, scolding himself for getting that wrong. "But other than that, it's okay, right?"
Tayla gave him an approving nod, offering him the second sandwich from her plate. "How come you're not married, Uncle Greg?
"No one's ever asked me."
"You're a boy though." She pointed out to him. "Boys are supposed to ask a girl to marry him."
"True, maybe that's where I've been going wrong." He forced a smile towards her, wondering if he would ever get married, and who to. He had never even thought about a marriage in his future, let alone kids.
Everyone else around him was moving forwards with relationships, marriages and children, while he was still stuck being a lonely bachelor, with no future plans.
"So, why haven't you got married?" She asked, continuing to eat her lunch.
"I guess I haven't found the right person yet." He shrugged in her direction.
"My Mommy said that there's someone for everyone. The Little Mermaid married Prince Eric. She was a Princess Mermaid, wanting to be human."
"Are you comparing me to a fish?" He grinned at the smart little girl.
"She's not a fish. She's a mermaid."
"I'm sorry, a mermaid. Well, maybe I'm a Merman, trapped in the ocean like she was. Everyone else around me is moving on, getting on with their happy lives . . . while I'm always searching for something else."
"I think you're right, Uncle Greg." Tayla smiled at him. "You're exactly like Ariel."
Greg smiled back at her, resting against his elbow on the table. "I better not make any deals with any old sea witches then."
"I'll marry you, Uncle Greg." She offered, pulling at his heart strings.
"Thanks for the offer, Munchkin, but I think you're a little young for me, and your Daddy would probably kill me. You'll always be his little princess. He wouldn't want you to marry someone like me."
"How old will you be, when I'm old enough to get married?" She suddenly asked him, finishing off the last bite of her sandwich.
"Around about... forty two. I'll be an old man by then, you wouldn't wonna marry me. You'll be marrying your very own knight in shining armour by then." He collected her plate for her, carrying it back to the kitchen to clear up.
Tayla grabbed Goober from the table, slipping off her chair to hurry after him. She watched him carefully washing the plate, before reaching for a towel to dry it, wiping it spotlessly clean, just the way her Daddy liked it. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
"Yes." He smiled down at her, setting the plate on the side.
"What about a boyfriend?"
"You know, I don't think your Daddy would want us talking about this. You're seven; you're supposed to talk about fairytales and princesses."
"I'm not a baby. I can't believe I wanted to marry you!" Tayla angrily folded her arms across her chest, giving him an evil glare, before she turned for the hall. Greg jumped at the sound of her door slamming shut, showing him just how angry she was with him.
"A child needs love, lookin' after and bein' provided for. A father's love is supposed to be stronger than anythin' you've ever imagined." Nick looked at the old pictures of their baby boy, wishing he could turn back time, so he could be there for him a little more. He could still remember holding his tiny body in his arms, feeling his little heart beating against him, while his small little fingers curled around his thumb.
Nick had never felt love before he held his son in his arms. He thought that he knew what love was like, but when he held that tiny little person in his arms that he had helped to create, he felt it through his entire body. He wanted to protect him, to tell him that he loved him every day, and watch him grow.
"I don't know why I ever wanted to be a father. I suck at it."
"Would you stop puttin' yourself down?" Samantha handed him another coffee, taking a seat beside him on the sofa. "This isn't your fault. So, Deacon didn't tell you anythin', and his other friends sent you on a wild goose chase, what do we do now?" She asked, looking into his glazed eyes. "Nick, I told you, he's been moody and distant for the past couple of months. I should have noticed it before. This isn't your fault."
"That could just be his hormones goin' on the fritz. He's a teenager." Nick pointed out to her, looking at the second coffee in his hands. "Hey Sam, you got anythin' a little stronger?"
"Beer?" As she saw a slight smile on the man's face, Samantha climbed to her feet, grabbing him an ice cold beer from the fridge. She handed it over to him, taking her seat on the sofa again. "So, what do we do now?" She asked him again, hoping he would have found him by now.
"Well, I've talked to all his friends. Out of all of them, Deacon was the one who lied to me. His father said he disappears after school and dinner every day, so I'm gonna follow him." Nick checked the time on his watch again, making sure he still had time to get over to Deacon's house.
"You're gonna follow a fourteen year old boy, what if he takes you on a wild goose chase of his own?"
"Then I try another lead." Nick took a swig of his beer, looking at the photos of his son on the wall. "I do this sort of stuff on the job all the time. I can't do it when it's family."
"That's because it's different. You're used to diggin' around in the lives of complete strangers; it's different when it's family. It always is, no matter the situation."
"Bradley's room still upstairs?" He asked, not sure if he really wanted to snoop around inside there, but it might hold the answers to his whereabouts. Samantha gave him a nod, leading the way up the stairs, so he could take a look inside. "Have you touched anythin' since he was last in here?"
"I picked up his laundry. Just jeans, with a dollar in one pocket and his maths test in the other. He got a D minus."
"D minus?" Nick looked round at her surprised, as their son was more of the A's and B's kind of student.
"He got an F on his last one."
"When exactly were you gonna tell me about his grades slippin'?" Nick glared round at her, getting a glare in response.
"You never exactly asked, Nick. He's been havin' a rough year. I told you that you should have taken him." Samantha stepped around the bed, closing the curtains, as it was almost completely dark outside. "So, what are you lookin' for?"
Nick immediately looked at the ceiling above Bradley's bed, remembering that there used to be model planes hanging from there that they built together. He looked around the room for them, spotting one of the brightly coloured wings, sticking out of the trash. "He left because of me." He muttered to himself, kneeling beside the trash can, trying to salvage the broken models.
"You don't know that."
"This makes it personal." Nick pointed out to her. "He didn't just break anythin', he broke the one thing in is room that reminded him of me." He moved over to the bed, searching through the bedside draw. He was relieved that there wasn't any drugs, cigarettes or condoms, the items that he usually found in teenage boys rooms. Instead, he found a deck of playing cards, his cell phone, which was turned off, hence the reason why he wasn't answering it. "Don't you ever make him clean in here?" He asked, tripping over a few of Bradley's things that littered the floor.
"Have you ever tried to make a teenage boy clean his room?" She asked him. "If I'm lucky, he does it about once a month. And I don't know what you're complainin' about, this is a good day." She indicated towards the floor. "Usually you can't even get in."
Nick rolled his eyes at her, before taking a look under the bed. He found a few dirty socks, one fur covered dinner plate and a shoe box, covered with a thick layer of dust. He pulled it out from under the bed, finding pictures of him and his son inside. "I screw up everyone's lives I touch."
"This negative nancy attitude isn't gonna find, Bradley!" Samantha snapped at him. "You're not a bad father, Nick. You're pretty good, when you get your thumb out of your ass and actually do somethin'. Bradley's been askin' to go over yours for weeks, what if he went there?"
Nick shook his head. "Greg's there, he'd tell me if he was there."
"Then... what if he went to your mother's?" She suggested, but Nick immediately shook his head. "Right, he wouldn't go there. I still say Deacon's your best bet, shouldn't you be goin'?"
"Does Bradley have a girlfriend?" He abruptly asked, putting down the pictures he had been looking through. "Maybe one that you don't know about."
"Doubtful." She shook her head. "He hates girls. Tells me so all the time, especially that weird girl who always goes horse ridin' with him."
"Did you check with her?"
"She hasn't seen him." Samantha shook her head. "Hey Nick, when you made the big announcement of your comin' out to your friends and family, did you even think to add your son to that list?" She asked him, perching herself on the edge of her son's bed.
"Does my son really need to know that?"
"Yes, and he already does. You have your nephew to thank for that." She pointed out to him. "Lately, Bradley's been askin' me all sorts of questions about sexuality. Not so much the sex, like most boys his age would be askin', but a person's tastes. He was under the impression that gay men marry women, to be with their children."
The choice of Samantha's words made Nick look up at her, asking, "In what way?"
"He never said." The woman shrugged, wishing she had pushed the subject further with her child. "I let it slip that you were with another man, and he immediately asked me how old he was, and whether he was married."
"There's nothin' here." Nick stopped his search. "The kids thirteen, I'm not exactly gonna find a detailed report on the places he frequents. He doesn't even have a credit card."
"He's thirteen; I didn't think he needed one."
"I wasn't arguin'." Nick assured her, climbing to his feet. "I think kids should stay kids for as long as possible. I know that I miss bein' a kid. I'd do anythin' to do it all over again."
"Fine by me. But in this alternate reality, you're still havin' sex with me, pal." She warned him, brushing down the crumbs from her son's bed. "Bradley's the one thing in my life that I don't want to change. If I slept with some other guy, he wouldn't be my Bradley."
Nick gave her a slight smile, checking the time on his watch again. "I better go. I've gotta call Tayla before she goes to bed. Then I gotta go and find Deacon."
"Don't scare him off." She spoke softly. "If he doesn't lead you to Bradley, don't scare him off. I know what you're like."
"I wouldn't hurt him." Nick assured her, making his way down the stairs. "And I think he knows exactly where Bradley is. I can always tell when people are lyin' to me." He smiled round at Samantha, before he made his way to the front door, dialling his home number to reach Greg.
"Tayla, I didn't mean it. I know you're not a baby." Greg shouted through her closed bedroom door, taking a seat against it, as he heard movement from inside. "You're not a baby at all, Tayla. You're really brave. Much braver than me." He sat forwards as the door opened, giving Tayla a smile. "You know, I think your Daddy really asked me to stay here for the week, because he wanted you to look after me. You know he's always trying to take care of people. He's just as brave as you. He wouldn't be half as brave without you."
"You really think I'm brave?"
"Yeah." He grinned up at her, glad to finally speak to her face to face, after four hours of trying to talk to her through her door. "Braver than anybody I know."
Tayla gave him a smile, climbing into his arms for a hug. "You're brave too, Uncle Greg. You saved me." She touched her little fingertips to his neck, remembering how purple it looked at the hospital. "When's Daddy ringing?"
"Eh..." Greg raised his arm, checking the time on his watch. "Should be any minute now. Let's get you into your pyjamas, while we wait for him to ring." He suggested, climbing to his feet with her. Following her through to the bedroom, he helped her with her clothes, hearing the phone ringing, as soon as she was in her pyjamas.
"Is it Daddy?" Tayla jumped down from her bed, hurrying after Greg into the hall.
"Hello?" Greg got to the phone first, dropping onto the sofa behind him.
"Hi, it's me." Nick spoke softly. "Is everythin' goin' alright?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. Tayla's dressed and ready in her PJ's; we were just waiting for your call." He helped Tayla onto the sofa beside him, handing her the phone to talk to her father.
"Daddy?"
Nick felt his heart warming at the sound of her voice. "Hey, baby. Have you had fun with Greg today?"
"Yeah, lots of fun. But Greg can't make toasted sandwiches as good as you." She immediately told him, getting playfully tickled by the man beside her. "Daddy, when are you coming home?"
"Soon, baby. I'm sorry I'm not there with you, but I'll make it up to you, I promise." He assured her, moving his phone to his other ear, so he could wipe the tears from his cheek. "Are you all dressed and ready for bed then?"
"Yeah, Greg isn't though."
"Well Greg's a little bit older than you; he doesn't have to go to bed right now." He smiled into his phone. "You better get into bed then, sweetheart. It's way past your bedtime. Tell Greg to give you a big cuddle from me, and I'll call you tomorrow and let you know when I'll be back."
"O-kay." She sighed softly, handing the phone back to Greg. She gave him a big hug, before she slipped off the sofa, hurrying off to her room down the hall.
"So, how's it going?" Greg asked him, once she was gone.
"Very slow. I think I've got a lead though. Thanks again for doin' this Greg, I'm gonna owe you big time once I get back."
"It's okay." The younger man assured him. "Angela came round earlier, she brought Willa with her. She's looking a lot stronger now, and Angela told me to let you know that she can keep her for as long as you need. And she'll understand if you're not up for adopting her."
"I think I'm gettin' an ulcer." Nick suddenly blurted, holding his stomach as he felt a sudden twinge. "After everythin' I've already had to deal with, there's still so much more. I don't even know what I'm gonna do once I've found, Bradley. What if he doesn't wonna come home or somethin'? He probably won't even speak to me after I was ignorin' his calls."
"That wasn't your fault, and you shouldn't be thinking about the 'what ifs', you should be concentrating on trying to find him, and deal with it then. None of this is your fault, Nicky." The younger man tried to convince him, wishing he could tell him to his face. "And there's always gonna be something in your life. Just think how boring your life would be without any drama."
"I'd actually like a drama free life though."
"Would you really though? Would you really just wonna be another average Joe guy, with a boring, ordinary life? I think you'd be bored. You wouldn't be half the man you are now, without all yah baggage, and I wouldn't change any part of you for the world."
"Don't start complimenting me now, G, you'll have me in tears."
"That's because you're a big softie at heart." Greg smiled into the phone. "And I'm always here if you need me, no matter what it is. You know that I'd never judge you or anything. I'll always be there for you."
"Thank you." The older man whispered, turning the ignition of his car. "I'll always be there for you too, Greg. I better go."
"Okay, I'll talk to you later. Keep me posted."
"I will, and if Tayla gets too much for you, you can either call Maya or Angela, I'll understand."
"I think I'm alright for now, we're having a blast." The younger man giggled. "Besides the conversations about why I'm not married, whether I've ever had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, and then the part where your daughter proposed to me. But don't worry, I didn't say yes."
"I should hope so too." Her father smirked. "I don't think I'm ready to watch my seven year old marry the man I adore. Even though I love you both, I want you to myself."
Greg smiled into the phone, feeling his heart fluttering against the surface of his chest. "Call me later then Nicky, I promise not to marry your daughter while you're away." He giggled softly, before blurting, "I miss you," immediately wishing he could take it back, as he didn't want to sound desperate.
"I miss you too, Greg. I'll talk to you later."
Dumping his bike in its usual spot, Deacon pulled his bag off his shoulders, making his way into the abandoned barn. He hurried over to the sofa to look for Bradley, finding him still curled up against the old cushions, shaking in his sleep.
Dropping his bag on the sofa, Deacon made his way round to the younger boy, gently shaking him awake. "Bradley!" He shouted, blocking the boy's arm, as he went to punch him. "Hey, it's just me."
Bradley looked up at him surprised, struggling to a sitting position off the cushions. He looked around the barn disoriented, before he finally began to relax, remembering where he was. "What are you doin' here?"
"I gotcha some food." Deacon reached for his bag, handing it over to him. "Just some packaged stuff." As Bradley just pushed the bag aside, Deacon insisted, "You've gotta eat somethin', Brader's."
"I'm not sick."
"Coulda fooled me." Deacon remarked, noticing that Bradley was still hiding his fragile frame from him. "Your Dad was over mine earlier."
"He's not my Dad."
"Not that one." Deacon shook his head. "Your real Dad, the queer one. He's lookin' for you." As Bradley struggled to get up, he quickly assured him, "I didn't tell him where you were. He tried to get it out of me, but I didn't tell him. I wouldn't do that to you, Brader's."
"He didn't follow you, did he?"
"No." Deacon chuckled, taking a seat on the sofa. "He couldn't follow me anyway; I went the long way on my bike. Unless he's superman, there's no way he can chase me through..."
"So he didn't follow you?" Bradley cut him off; pulling the blanket Deacon had given him, tighter against his chest.
"No, Bradley." He assured him. "He didn't follow me. You used to call him the best Dad in the world."
"I was six." Bradley reminded him, adjusting one of the pillows behind his head. "I'd have said anythin' at that age."
"He cares about you, Brader's. Like I do. Why won't you let me see?" He indicated towards the boy's baggy clothing, wondering what was hurting him beneath them. "Bradley, you've gotta tell me somethin'. You can barely move. You won't eat, you shake when you sleep. What's goin' on?" He demanded to know. "You owe me that much."
"I resisted." Bradley spoke softly, covering his hands over his face.
"What?" Deacon slid closer, desperately wanting to know what was wrong with him.
"I don't wonna talk about it." He rolled over onto his side, looking like a scared little boy, as he pulled his legs closer to his chest. "Just leave me alone, Deacon. I'm not your problem."
"Who says?" The older boy slid off the couch, gently putting his arm around the smaller boy's fragile body. "Remember when we were seven; we made that tree house out in the woods behind my house?" He whispered against his ear. "I told yah that I wanted to marry you."
"You told me you were jokin'." Bradley turned his head, looking at Deacon beside him. "You were jokin', weren't you?"
"Might have been." Deacon cryptically answered, climbing to his feet as Bradley pulled away from him. "Make sure you eat somethin'. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be in big trouble if my Dad notices I'm gone." He grabbed for his bag, putting it where Bradley could reach it. "I gotcha food, a change of clothes and some actual painkillers this time."
Bradley took a look inside the bag, giving his friend a slight smile.
"See yah tomorrow." Deacon waved, making his way back to the barn door. He grabbed for his bike from the long grass again, pedalling back through the shortcut this time, before his father gave him a whooping for being late.
Bradley took another look inside the bag, finding the full bottle of pain killers dumped in the bottom. He brushed his thumb across the warning label, before looking at the half bottle of scotch sat beside him, wondering if he really could end it all.
"Sara?" Grissom called through the house, searching every room, with his dog, Hank at his side.
The two of them wandered into the front room, finding Sara curled up on the sofa, clutching a blanket tightly against her chest.
Grissom smiled at the beautiful woman in his life, before carefully tucking the blanket around her legs, keeping her warm. "G'night, sweetheart." He whispered to her, gently placing one hand on her protruding stomach. He could almost feel a kick coming from inside, but it felt as though it had been directed towards one of the baby's, rather than the surface. He thought that they were probably fighting, but he couldn't sort them out if their mother was trying to sleep.
"He's been doing that for the last half hour or so." Sara suddenly stirred awake, giving the father of her children a smile. "Or she. I guess we won't know until we meet em, right?"
"Yeah." He nodded in agreement, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of her. "I guess they're just moving about while they still can. It'll be too crowded in there soon."
"I was reading more of those baby books you got me," Sara struggled to a sitting position, adjusting the blanket around her. "The experts say that they can hear our conversations and things from now on. Some mothers read or sing to them, so they'll be able to recognise their voice after they're born."
"But not you?"
"I don't feel like mother material." She shook her head. "It turns out that there are some upsides to being pregnant with twins. We get that big family that you always wanted much quicker, and I only have to go through the pregnancy and birth once to get it."
Grissom looked at the anxiety written all over her face, before he said, "Sara, it's not too late to change your mind."
"About us, or the babies?" She asked him confused.
"Everything, I know it's too late to terminate the pregnancy, and I wouldn't want to do that anyway, but we can rethink the whole situation if you want. We don't have to commit to any sort of..."
"This is what I want." Sara assured him, taking his hands into her own. "I know that I can't do this without you. I only have one pair of arms after all." She smirked, getting a smile out of her partner. "We haven't even discussed what we're hoping for, girls, boys... one of each. I'm nearly twenty three weeks; we haven't bought any clothes, furniture. I still haven't moved in here, and we haven't even started planning on how we're going to raise these kids."
"Well, you said that you wanted to wait," Grissom reached under the coffee table, presenting her with a baby book, that he had already filled the first few pages with their last few scan pictures. "I was gonna give this to you after they were born, but I think it's better if I give it to you now."
Sara flipped few the first few pages, brushing her fingertips over the photos of her growing babies.
"We can put their hospital bracelets in here, their footprints and handprints..."
"Was this your idea, or your mother's?" Sara interrupted him, watching him looking up at her surprised. "Sorry, but after those first few weeks of her trying to run our lives, I don't want her running how we raise them too."
"Actually, it was something that Nick suggested." He pointed out to her. "He showed me the baby book that his ex, Miranda made for Tayla. There were photos of all of her firsts. Birthday cards, baby shower announcements... everything. There was even a lock of her hair, and handprints right up to her seventh birthday, just to see how much she had grown. And I realised that I wanted to do that for our kids."
Sara gave him a warm smile, reaching the last page with her scan pictures on them, where her babies were very clear. "I can't wait to meet them." She whispered, brushing her fingertips across each of them. "When I first found out I was pregnant, I was worrying that I wouldn't be able to do it, that I wasn't mature enough for this, but now, I can't wait for them to call me Mom."
"Where is he?" Nick violently shook the boy, pushing him up against the wall. "Just tell me where he is, Deacon! This isn't a game. I love my son, more than I've ever loved anythin'. I don't want anythin' to happen to him, anymore than you do. Just tell me where he is."
Deacon struggled to pull back for him, reminding him, "He told me not to tell you."
"Deacon, he's just a kid! You can't keep promises that put people's lives in danger." He released his grip on the boy, looking him in the eye. "I care about him a lot. I'd die for that kid. I'd do anythin' to stop him from bein' in any pain. Please, just tell me where he is. I almost lost my daughter this year, I don't wonna lose my son too."
"But..."
"Please!" Nick begged him.
Deacon looked at the tears in the man's eyes, suddenly feeling very guilty. "Okay . . . t-there's an old barn, just a fe-few miles from his cousin Charlie's ranch." He reluctantly gave him up, watching Nick smiling at him in relief.
"C'mon, you're comin' with me." Nick ushered him towards his car, just in case he couldn't find it on his own.
"Mr Stokes, he's gonna kill me for tellin' you. He'll probably never speak to me again." Deacon protested, pulling away from him.
"I don't care." Nick pulled him closer towards the car. "You shouldn't promise anyone anythin', especially if their life is in danger."
"Mr Stokes..."
"Get in the car!" Nick ordered, not caring about any promises he made to him. "Now!" Deacon gave out a heavy sigh, knowing Bradley would never trust him again. He reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of Nick's rental car, pointing him off in the right direction.
"He doesn't want to see you, Mr Stokes." Deacon spoke softly, looking towards the man at his side. "You can't make him."
"I'm not gonna make him do anythin'. I just gotta know that he's okay."
Deacon nervously bit his lower lip, wondering if he should tell the man about the bruises he saw on Bradley or the extreme pain that he was in right now. "Turn here." He pointed to a smaller road, spotting the barn in the distance.
Nick pulled his car up at the gate, quickly hopping over it, so he could run towards the barn. Deacon beat him to the entrance though, sliding open the door for Nick. He held back for a moment, so Bradley couldn't hate him immediately, while Nick hurried inside, searching every corner for his son.
As soon as he reached the sofa in the centre, his heart started racing. He dropped to his knees beside his son's head, quickly checking for a pulse on his neck. His eyes were glazed over, staring into space, while his skin was as pale as a sheet.
He felt the slightest movement against his fingertips, desperately hoping that it really was a pulse.
"Bradley!" Deacon shouted, catching sight of his friend. "He wasn't like this when I left."
"Call for an ambulance." Nick instructed him, taking a look at the pill bottle beside his son. "Deacon! Now!" He shouted towards him.
Deacon pulled his cell from his pocket, quickly calling for an ambulance, as instructed.
Nick felt his heart racing even more as he found the pill bottle beside his son empty. He quickly checked that his son was still breathing, before he tried to revive him. "Oh baby, what have you done? This is all my fault."
Sorry, another cliffe :D The next chapter is almost ready, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next though. Thanks so much for your reviews on the last chapter!
Let me know what you thought of this one too.
Have a great weekend!
~ Holly