Thank you so much for your wonderful comments! I love hearing from you :) I've decided to use some of Kur8Kami117's suggestions for this chapter. Thanks for the awesome ideas! Well, I really hope you like this one. Let me know if you want to see anything happen in the story, and thanks for all the support!
Roger seized Jack's hand the moment Miss Ginny opened the front door. He was nearly bursting with excitement at the very thought of showing his friend his new home—his new solitude. Jack laughed as he was yanked into the doorway, barely bidding goodbye to his mother. He knew how eager the boy was about this subject. Roger halted in the living room. "See?" he said breathlessly. "That's the sofa where Mummy and Daddy cuddle me in the morning. And the table over there is where I do my school lessons. The book over there on its shelf contains all the pictures from Mummy and Daddy's wedding. I love that book. I look at it every single day." Roger explained. Jack watched as Roger stood on his tiptoes to reach the book and lovingly stroked it. He smiled at his odd friend. "I love it," Roger repeated. Suddenly something inside of Jack flared. He realized that Roger had just expressed (clearly and positively) an emotion all on his own—unprovoked and unwarranted. He was truly on the psychological mend. The redhead touched his shoulder gently, at a loss of words at this conclusion. Roger just smiled at him. One of those heartbreaking smiles that just made Jack want to hug him so hard.
Roger next took Jack down the hall to his bedroom. "I've never had a room of my own before." he explained. He tugged Jack's hand until they were both sitting on the little bed. Jack grinned. "Roge, I love seeing you so happy. You're truly…almost a different person. You seem so alive. I honestly feel like you're…you're…healthy." he said. Roger looked away. "When we were on the island…I-I was sick. Mummy says that I didn't feel sick because my brain was the thing that was diseased, not my body. There's so many things I remember about that place…but…I don't recall any of my thoughts. Just what the voices in my head told me. Nothing else. It's like I wasn't even me. I remember—" But suddenly Roger choked up. He squeezed his eyes closed so that he wouldn't cry in front of his friend. Jack rubbed his shoulder gently as if to encourage him to keep going. "I…I don't want t-to talk about it…." Roger finally decided. The redhead nodded. "Of course," he assured. "Of course, Roge. You don't have to talk about it. Not at all." It took several minutes for Roger to push all the bad thoughts out of his head. He could barely face Jack.
Roger picked up the small white bunny that he had placed neatly on the pillow when he'd made his bed that morning. "It was a present," he told Jack, wiping tears out of his eyes. "Mummy and Daddy got it for me. I have toys now. And I can play with them. When I finish my lessons for the day, Mummy lets me come into my room all by myself and shut the door. She calls it 'quiet time'. She says I can do anything I want in here—I can play with my toys, I can take a nap, I can draw or write, I can…cry….I can do anything. It makes me feel better, it really does."
"Do you cry alone often?"
"…No, not usually."
"Why? Why wouldn't you?"
"…I don't need to."
"Roge, I can feel that you do. Are you afraid to cry?"
"I don't know…"
"My psychiatrist tells me to cry every time I go see him. He says it actually makes you feel better. Roger, if I can cry in front of a grown man, how come you can't when you're all by yourself?"
The tears built up in Roger's eyes again. "Why do you do this to me, Jack Merridew?" he whimpered just before breaking into sobs. A pang of guilt hit the redhead hard, causing him to wrap his arms around his friend again and rock him back and forth. "Because sometimes you don't understand things fully." he replied.
"Neither do you! You're only one year older!"
"I have a different…perception than you. No matter how much treatment you get."
"You drive me crazy but I love you."
"I know. But you have to let your feelings out, Roger. Remember that picture album you were showing me? I could tell that you genuinely loved it. Because you let it out. Even though you're happy in your new home with your new parents, you still have to accept the past. You still have to express those feelings too—not just the ones you're experiencing now. I'm doing better. My fears are mostly gone. But the other day…I saw Ralph at school for the first time. And honest to God…I went into the bathroom and I cried for an hour. I promise. Just ask my history teacher—he'll tell you I didn't show up for class that day. Because I was feeling the past. That's what you need to do! Be happy with your life right now, but let go of the things behind you. Have one big cry that lasts for hours and hours and then once you don't have any tears left, you'll realize you don't have the sadness either. Try it, Roge. Tomorrow during quiet time, come in here and cry."
"…How do you know all this?"
"Because it was easier for me to let my feelings out as soon as we got back. You…you were used to suppressing it all the time. Especially in your biological home."
Roger shuddered. But as he dried his tears and sat up a bit, he smiled. "I'm going to do it, Jack." he affirmed. Jack kissed the top of his head gently in a friendly-love sort of way. Roger gave Jack the stuffed bunny. He in turn picked up his feather duster and began stroking its softness. "I like our friendship now." he said softly. "You're guiding me—not giving me orders like when I was back in school and the whole time after."
"That's what brothers are for," Jack replied, feeling a strong bond between him and his friend.
"I'm not entirely better yet. I'm still a little, you know, sick. I get nightmares so often. Actually, I'll confess something to you—I've only really slept in this bed maybe only six times since I came to live here. All the others times I sleep between my Mummy and Daddy. They always wake me up when they hear the signs that I'm having a nightmare, so I never have to endure it entirely."
"That's wonderful, Roge! They love you so much."
"I got some shots the other day at the doctor's office. I didn't cry at all—it hurt so much less than the shock therapy! Mummy held my hand the entire time, and when Daddy got home, he took me out for ice cream to celebrate my good behavior. Oh, Jack. I feel like such a child. Why am I acting this way? Getting excited over ice cream, sleeping with my parents, playing with stuffed animals—it's all little kid stuff."
"You didn't have a childhood. You're just making up for it now comfortably. No one's going to judge you."
"That's what Mummy said too."
Jack made the stuffed bunny tickle Roger's nose, causing giggling between them. "You just be Roger. Because that's what everybody loves about you." he whispered. The dark-haired boy nodded. He rose from the bed and began to show Jack the closet full of new clothes that actually fit him; how proud he was of his current life on the mend.
X x X
Miss Ginny sat at the kitchen table across from Mrs. Merridew, two steaming cups of tea between them. "And what did the doctor say about the pregnancy?" the redheaded woman asked. Miss Ginny sighed. She trailed her finger around the rim of the teacup. "He said that it doesn't look promising any time soon." she replied despondently. "This is why we adopted Roger—of course we love him with all that we are, but…I knew that I would have pregnancy complications. I'm so lucky to have him. He's a child. He may be twelve years old, but he's a child. My child. I love him to the moon and back."
"He's so lucky to have such a wonderful woman for a mother."
"Thank you, Gertrude. But I feel that maybe he could use something to take care of. I asked him how he felt about having a baby sibling, and he said he'd absolutely love it. He told me that if I were to have a little boy, that we should name him…oh, what was the name…Simon! That's it! He wants to name a baby Simon."
"Yes, I've heard that name from Jack a few times too. I don't know where they get that name from. I suppose there was once a boy in choir with that name, but I don't recall hearing much about him before. Suddenly it's like this fascination."
"Roger told me that if Charles and I were to create this baby, it would be nothing but pure good, and that's what the name Simon implies. I asked him to detail it, but he said he didn't want to talk about it—we just have to name the baby Simon. Although now, with no baby on the way…"
"Would Roger enjoy a pet? When Jack got back, we got him a kitten to sit with, talk to, you know, just have around so he wouldn't be lonely. Perhaps Roger would like that too."
"That actually sounds like a wonderful idea. I'm sure he'd love to take care of something. And maybe that will pre-adjust him to a possible new baby around the house. I'll discuss getting a puppy with Charles tonight after Roger goes to sleep. I'm sure he'll be fine with it, but he'll want to go with us to pick it out."
The two women continued their chatting, Roger and Jack in the other room doing the same. While two mothers of distanced and struggling children that were trying to recuperate after such traumatic experiences shared their ideas with one another, the mentioned children offered advice to one another. The bonds that formed between the families were growing stronger continuously. Miss Ginny (and Roger) truly felt that every day was progressing better than the last, which only reassured them more of their emotions and situations.
They felt loved all around.