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Chapter 7: Consequences
Jeremiah slowed his stride and came to a stop as he approached the door of Lieutenant Green's hospital room. He wanted to ask Green what the hell was going on with FBI agent Harris, but he was worried about the answer he was going to get. He wasn't sure he could take bad news. He knew Bobby's instincts were rarely wrong, and his brother had obviously been waiting for the worst to come out of their situation. It was more than just what it would mean for him and his brothers. He wondered how much more his marriage could take of the Mercer family curse that hung over them all. Camille loved him, he knew she did, and he loved her in a way he had never imagined was possible. He loved his daughters too. Hell, he had never comprehended the strength of a parent's love until he became a father. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. When he fell in love with Camille, he had been certain there was nothing else that could dwarf the intensity of that emotion, but fatherhood had proved him wrong.
Tension was thick in his home. Camille tried, she really did, but after everything they had been through, she was ready to get back to a normal life, with a husband who worked every day and brought in a paycheck. A husband who put his wife and daughters first and took care of them, like he used to. Their bank account was dwindling fast, and the insurance company was making it difficult to collect what was due them, both for the car and the warehouse. His girls were suffering the consequences of his actions, and that tore at him more than anything. His girls were his life, and he had to provide for them.
Camille had stood by him through the roughest of times, but he wasn't sure how much more she could endure. She was worried about their money. She had questioned him about the chances of losing the house and having no place to live. He had tried to assure her they were fine, but there was doubt hiding in his soul, and that doubt was hard to hide from her. He'd never been able to hide anything from her. She was scared, and he couldn't lie to himself, he was worried too.
Her parents had been nagging on her a little, he was sure of that. He had worked hard to prove to her parents that he was a good husband and father, and now, for the first time since he'd started dating their daughter, they were questioning her choice in a husband. They were good people, and they had been willing to let his past go, accept him into their family and treat him as one of their own. They had never been judgmental of his mistakes from his younger days, but now they were worried about their daughter. He couldn't blame them, from a parent's perspective; he would have questioned any man who put his daughter through the worry and hard times that he'd put Camille through this past month.
If Green gave him bad news, or confirmed Bobby's suspicions then he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. He would have to tell Camille, of course, but it wasn't going to go over well at all. He hadn't said anything to his brothers, he didn't want them to be aware of his personal problems, and Camille was adamant that he not talk about their business with them. She had no problem with his family, except that they were all too damn close. After so many years of having Jeremiah to herself for the most part, she was having a hard time accepting Bobby's overbearing, dominate attitude. The way he called and expected Jeremiah to drop everything and run over to the house with no notice was not going over well with Camille.
Jeremiah tried to explain to her that Bobby didn't mean it the way is came out when he barked out the orders. He was dealing with a hell of a lot more shit than he should have to, and it was shit that Jerry had to be a part of, whether he liked it or not. Camille knew Jerry needed to be there, and work with his family, but she also expected him to be home with her and taking care of his own business. Jeremiah Mercer was starting to feel a little over extended.
A nurse walked out of the room and smiled at him, "Hello." She kept on walking, but her acknowledgment of him brought him out of his own thoughts. He sighed and stepped through the doorway to Greens room. The man was sitting up in bed hitting buttons on a remote control aimed at the television mounted on the opposite wall, and muttering words under his breath.
"Having some trouble with that thing?" Jeremiah tried to sound cheerful.
"Damn channel won't change, can't get the sound to turn up. Hell, I might as well not even have it on." Green tossed the device onto the table next to his bed and turned his attention to Jeremiah. He drew in a deep breath. "I was expecting a call from one of the Mercers, but I didn't figure on an actual visit from you." He forced a smile. "I'm just glad it's you and not Bobby."
Jeremiah chuckled softly; he felt his nerves grind with the lack of humor he found in Greens words. "How are you doing? Are you healing up good?" He tried not to take in the meaning of Green's words. If the cop in front of him had anything good to say he wouldn't have been so happy to have Jeremiah's company instead of Bobby's.
"I'm good, real good. Doctor is real happy with how quickly I'm healing. I should he going home by the end of the week." Green smiled and met Jeremiah's gaze straight on. "I have already talked to Johnson, so I know why you are here. You gonna ask me the question or not?"
Jeremiah walked over to the window and grabbed hold of the chair there. He took his time dragging it into position next to Green's bed, trying to clear his head all the while. "You look good. You look real good." He spoke quietly.
Green allowed himself a quiet laugh. "I already told you how I was doing Jerry. Why don't you move on to the next subject?" Green reached over to his the table again and pulled the top drawer open with a slow and careful motion. "Why didn't Bobby come himself?"
Jeremiah grinned. "We were worried about how he would pose the question at hand to you." He sat in the chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You already talked to Johnson, so why don't you just spill it and tell me what the hell is going on Wilber?"
Green grimaced at the sound of his first name. "Don't call me that, man, you know I hate that."
"All right, man, I won't say it out loud again, but you gotta tell me what the hell is going on Green. What is Harris looking for?" Jeremiah pushed.
Green pulled a file folder out of the drawer he was reaching into. "I'm going to let you look at this, but you can't let anyone else know you've seen it. Not even Bobby." He held the folder out towards Jeremiah.
Jeremiah hesitated. "I can't promise you that. If there's important shit in there, I'm telling Bobby, you know that." He looked at the file for a long moment before meeting Green's gaze.
"I didn't say not to tell him what you see in it, just don't tell him I showed it to you. If anyone knew I was letting you look at official documents my ass would end up on the chopping block, no matter how many bullet holes I might have in me. I'm not supposed to have it myself; Johnson brought it in for me to review." Green stretched his hand towards Jeremiah just a little further. "Come on, take it."
Jeremiah took the file and sat back in the chair with it. He drew in a deep breath before opening it up to look at the contents. He studied the first paper in front of him and nearly gasped. He looked at Green. "You have got to be shitting me." He reached up with one hand and scrubbed his face hard with it. "Shit. No wonder Harris is out for blood. How the hell can this be right?" He felt defeat hit his gut and wondered how in the hell he was going to explain this one to Bobby, or Camille. Who would have thought that taking out Macks would carry such dire consequences?
Craig swallowed at the taste starting to build in his mouth. A cross between chalk and what he could only describe as battery acid rose from under his tongue, giving his mouth a dry, wilted feeling that brought on the threat of tears. His stomach had protested against the food he'd had to force down just minutes before, and now it was threatening to empty on him because of the foul taste building in his mouth.
Bobby was sitting back in his chair with his arms folded at his chest, staring at him. He wished his brother would say something. He had no idea why he was keeping him there. On second thought, yes, he did know. Bobby had figured out what he was doing. He had a choice. Either he was going to have to admit right then and there that he was holding his pills in his mouth, to spit them out and hide them under the couch, or flush them, or he could try to wait his brother out.
Angel and Jack had each claimed their seats again, and were watching him with the same interest that Bobby had taken. The teen couldn't help but wonder why the hell they had decided to take notice of what he was doing now, after three days. He had been doing fine, dealing with everything his own way and now that was all going to be ruined. The sweet numbness, the lack of any real feelings, had already started slipping away since that rush he'd experienced after sneaking out of the house to listen in on his brothers' conversation earlier.
He had liked that rush. He'd liked the thrill that had swept through him, but it had sparked the other feelings that he'd been lacking for days. What was building deep inside of him now was not so pleasant. His nerves were wearing raw; his fears of being caught with the pills lodged under his tongue were building. If Bobby figured out he had been spitting out the medication that was supposed to be so good for him, he'd throw a fit and it would lead to more questions. The pills had been the only reason he was sleeping before, and Bobby knew that. They had kept him calm, and a little drowsy, and he had been able to eat without feeling that rock stuck in the middle of his gut. He had done better in so many ways when he was taking the pills, he knew that. Still, he felt as if he had no control when he had been taking them, and he hated that feeling enough to sacrifice the rest just to have it.
Craig wasn't stupid; he knew his brother was already thinking the worst. He had to come up with some way to get out of this mess before Bobby started asking him more questions. He'd sat there for almost a full minute under the silent stares of his brothers. "I have to pee." He spoke carefully, using his tongue as little as possible, but the pills still shifted, and the bitter chemical sensation surfaced around his teeth, grabbing at his taste buds, trying to trigger the gag reflex. It took all the control he had not to spit the pills out into his hand at that moment. He stood quickly, hoping for a quick getaway.
"I didn't say you could get up. Sit your ass back down." Bobby reached out with one arm, grabbing hold of his left wrist before he could step past him.
Craig looked at Bobby and shook his head. "I have to pee." He tried to say the words normally, but the pills seemed to be dissolving with more speed now, and the taste prickeled the inside of his mouth.
Bobby didn't let go of him. He stood slowly. "You sound like you got a mouth full of marbles there kid, why is that?" He kept his eyes fixed on Craig. "Jackie, why don't you get Craig another glass of milk? I think he's gonna need it." He suggested while he grabbed a paper towel that was still lying on the table.
Jack stood, reached across the table and snatched up the empty glass. "He's holding out longer than I thought he would." He muttered as he walked out of the room. "He's as stubborn as you are."
"Why don't you just spit the damn things out?" Angel asked from his chair.
Bobby held his hand out in front of Craig's mouth, cupping the paper towel so that the boy could empty the pills into it. "You give up yet?" He asked. "You spit them out and I'll give you some good ones to take for real this time." His voice was flat, empty of any emotion, the way Craig wished he could feel again. "Or, you are going to have to drink the milk down with those pills already dissolving in there, and that's gonna taste even worse."
Craig felt the tears stinging his eyes harder. He hadn't felt the urge to cry for three days, and it had been liberating. He didn't like feeling like a five year old, unable to control his feelings. The past three days had been a relief, no conflict or fears haunting his every thought. He had been able to think about everything that had happened and analyze it without falling apart inside. He had felt in control of his feelings and for the first time since the night his mother was killed. Swallowing the pills in his mouth would mean giving up his control, and he didn't want to do that.
"Come on Craig, you're caught. You ain't doin' nothing but making yourself suffer. Get them out of there." Bobby was relatively calm at the moment.
Craig instinctively tried to pull away from his brother as a tear slipped free. The hold Bobby had on his wrist tightened. "Don't you fucking try to pull away from me," Bobby warned.
Jack walked in with the glass of milk. He stood next to Bobby, holding the glass in his hand. Craig couldn't miss the look in Jack's eyes. They looked as if they were dancing with laughter, and the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch. "You might as give it up Craig. We already know what you've been up to. Don't you get that yet?"
"Yeah, kid, you're ass is in serious trouble, but if you want to make it worse by drinking those half-dissolved pills down, then that's your choice. You've got 'till the count of three to spit them out. After that you're downing the milk, if I have to pour it into you myself, you got that?" Bobby's voice turned stiff. "One, two…"
Craig squeezed his eyes closed, bent his head down and spit the pills into the paper towel, unable to hold them in his mouth any longer.
"That's disgusting." Jack muttered.
"Yeah, it is." Bobby's voice matched Jack's for the moment.
Craig opened his eyes as Bobby released his wrist and folded the paper towel up before grabbing for the pill bottles. He was tempted to make a run for the stairs. He was sure he could get to the restroom and barricade himself in before anyone caught him. He knew, deep down, how stupid that would be though.
Bobby handed Jack the paper towel and started pouring more pills into his hand from each bottle. "You know, you are going to have to explain this to me. I don't get it. Why the hell would you play this kind of a game with me?" He didn't look at Craig. "Why would you lie to me, and sneak around behind my back? You've been playing a lot of games in fact, haven't you? You ain't been eating, I'm sure of that. Tell me, how long have you been pulling this crap?" He finally looked at Craig.
Craig sniffed at the tears while Bobby held the pills out in front of him. "Bobby, please, I don't like the way they make me feel." He barely managed to get the words out.
"You don't like eating and sleeping like a normal person? You don't like feeling good enough to laugh and feel shit inside?" Bobby shook his head. "Well, how about this, I like seeing you laugh sometimes. I like seeing you act like a normal kid every once in a while. These pills were prescribed for you because you needed them. You want to know why? I'll tell you why. That son of a bitch everyone else calls your father pumped you full of drugs and then screwed around with your head. Those drugs are still working on you, and these pills block them out. They keep you from freaking out Craig. You remember what that was like? I'm surprised you ain't had one of those fits of yours." He spoke calmly.
The words made sense to the boy, but that didn't mean he wanted the pills. He stared at the pills cradled in Bobby's palm, right in front of him.
"Either you take these pills now, or I will make you take them, and you don't want me to do that, do you?" Bobby's sing-song voice sounded threatening.
Craig looked up into his brother's eyes. "Bobby, please?" He tried again, knowing damn good and well that it wasn't going to work.
"I ain't giving you a choice here, and I'm running out of patience with you. I got a big problem with you working me like some kind of an idiot, and it ain't happening again. I won't trust you for shit, for a long time now. I gave you some trust, gave you a little room to deal with shit, and you twisted that around for an opportunity to fucking lie and sneak around. Now, either you take these pills or I'm gonna shove them down your throat myself." He looked as if he wanted to carry out his threat.
Craig reached out to take one of the pills, trying to think of how he could hide it in his hand instead of actually putting it in his mouth, but Bobby pulled his hand back. "No, you open your mouth."
Craig tried to look annoyed. "You aren't serious." He couldn't believe Bobby was going to really give him the pills this way.
"Damn right I'm serious. I just told you I ain't gonna trust you for shit for a very long time. Now open your mouth." Bobby's voice still held the threat.
Craig knew there was going to be no hope of getting out of this now; he opened his mouth and let Bobby pop one of the pills in. He took the milk from Jack and downed the pill. Bobby picked up the next pill and the process was repeated until his palm was empty and Craig had taken all of the medication. Bobby made him open his mouth after the last pill and raise his tongue.
Craig waited for Bobby to say something to him, but the man just stared at him for a long moment; his temples seemed to tense up and twitch. Craig was sure he could hear a clock ticking down the seconds from somewhere in the house.
"Well, this is getting very interesting." Jack nodded his head after a long silence. He was still standing next to Bobby and turned and looked at Angel. "You ever see Bobby this quiet?"
"Well, there was that one time when you used the end of his hockey stick to unplug the toilet." Angel sat back in his chair. "He had that same look on his face too."
Jack grinned wide and turned back to look at Craig. "Ouch. That one did hurt." He nodded his head.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure if Mom hadn't stepped in you would have been a pile of shit yourself by the time he was finished with you." Angel stood, letting his chair scrape against the floor. "I'm going to go call Sofi. She should be coming home soon and I want her to pick up a few things."
"We need something from the store? I'll drive you." Jack turned completely to Angel.
"I ain't riding in that piece of shit you like to call a car." Angel scowled at Jack.
"It runs, doesn't it? It's in one piece." Jack walked into the kitchen.
"That doesn't make it a real car, man." Angel followed Jack into the kitchen.
Craig stared at Bobby, wondering what was coming next. Usually after he took his pills he was sent to the couch to lie down, but he had a feeling this wasn't over. Hell, he knew it wasn't over. The look on Bobby's face told him it wasn't going to be over for a long time.
"What have you been doing with the pills?" Bobby asked the question quietly, his jaw tight and fixed.
Craig swallowed hard at the lump forming in his throat. He shrugged his shoulders a slightly, "Flushed them down the toilet." His voice came out weak.
Bobby sucked in a deep breath. "You got any idea how expensive these pills are? Hell, if I'd known you was gonna waste them all, I would have told that doctor to save me the time and trouble, it's not like we can afford them to start with." He shook his head. "You couldn't have flushed them all, what have you been doin' with the rest of them?"
Craig shrugged his shoulders, barely. "I don't know." He knew it sounded stupid as soon as he said it. The look that flashed across Bobby's face was a familiar one. It was one that he saw several times before in the past month, just before Bobby beat his ass hard.
"You wanna keep playin' games with me little boy?" Bobby's voice rose slightly. "I ain't in the mood for it, and I damn sure ain't gonna have a fourteen year old punk playing me for a fucking fool, you got that? I have enough to worry about right now, I shouldn't have to worry about you lyin' and sneaking around behind my back. I thought we had enough of an understanding that I could trust you. I can't trust you for shit though, can I?" Bobby snatched up a hard grip on the boy's arm, just above his left elbow and pulled him into the living room. He gave Craig a jerk to turn him sideways, reached down and him a hard crack on his butt.
The action came with no warning and surprised Craig. His right arm reached back instinctively to cover his ass, though he knew it wasn't a wise move.
"You gonna tell me what you did with the rest of the pills?" Bobby was close to yelling.
"Under the couch cushion," Craig admitted as another tear slid down his cheek.
Bobby let go of his arm and walked around the table, to the couch. "You are getting your ass whipped for this one kid." He started pulling up the cushions, starting on the left end and working his way down to the other end, next to the Christmas tree. Craig knew the pills were on the end closest to the tree. He swallowed back at fresh tears when Bobby started picking up pills, counting them out loud as he did. "Well, I know this ain't all of them." He turned and looked at Craig. "I got twenty here. Where are the rest of them?" He didn't yell, but he wanted to, Craig had become familiar enough with his brother to know when he was holding back his anger.
Craig remembered the pills under his bed mattress, but he thought he might be able to avoid Bobby finding those. "I flushed them Bobby." He barely got the words out. He tried to hold his eyes on his brother, but wasn't able to, he shifted his gaze away, just for a second.
Bobby's eyes narrowed. "You're lying to me. You want to keep playing games? I ain't big on this kind of game Craig, and I will break you of this little habit real fucking quick." He started around the table, coming towards the boy.
"Bobby, I'm sorry…" Craig managed to back away two steps before Bobby caught him by the arm again.
"You ain't sorry, you're worried about being busted in another lie. You should be. If I find more pills you are gonna regret it." He pulled Craig towards the stairs.
Craig noticed Jack and Angel both standing in the kitchen, looking their way as Bobby pulled him up the steps. He wasn't surprised when Bobby pulled him into his room and slammed the door shut hard before letting go of him.
"You want to tell me the truth yet?" Bobby turned and looked at the bed. He only had to take one step to get close enough to reach down and grab the edge of the mattress. He looked back at Craig, as if he were waiting for the boy to speak.
Craig couldn't find his voice. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Bobby lifted the mattress and pulled it off the bed, letting it fall against the dresser. He stood there and stared at the pills resting on the box spring for a long moment before he picked them up and added them to the pills in his hand. "You get to Ma's room, right now, and you get ready because when I get in there I'm giving you an ass beating."
Craig couldn't move. He drew in a deep breath; half thinking that he could still get out of an ass beating. "Bobby, I didn't mean…" He started to speak; his voice came out shaky, and weak.
"Shut the fuck up." Bobby cut off his statement as he turned and looked at him. "I just told you what to do. You do it now or I'm gonna do more than beat your ass. I'm pissed at you right now. I have never been this pissed at you, you got that? You don't wanna push the wrong buttons with me; I ain't so fuckin' pleasant when I'm pissed, you know that." His teeth were grinding together as he spoke.
Craig swallowed back the rest of the words he'd been about to say. He knew that he should feel bad for hiding the pills, and lying. He knew that he should feel guilty, and that he should feel some kind of remorse for Bobby being pissed at him, but it wasn't there. He was more worried about the ass beating he was going to get. Not so long ago, knowing Bobby was proud of him was one of the best feelings he'd ever felt, but now, at that very moment, it didn't matter. He drew in a deep breath and the feelings that were surfacing came out in words that he didn't know were there. "You spent the last three days not even knowing I was in the house, and you are going to get pissed at me because you didn't notice me enough to know what I was doing. That's not fair." He spoke quickly, a little louder than he meant to, but he said it, and there was no turning back now.
Bobby's eyes widened slightly, and he stared at Craig for a long moment before speaking. "Damn, kid, you've grown some balls overnight, haven't you? You got some kind of secret wish to get them cut off now? Because I'm more than happy to do that for you if that's what you want." He grabbed hold of Craig's arm again; he let the pills in his hand fall as he sat down on the box springs and dragged the teen down across his lap.
Craig hadn't expected Bobby to light up his backside right then and there. Despite his blue jeans offering some padding, it had to be the worst spanking Bobby had ever given him. It seemed to go on forever, and every time Craig tried to pull free the strikes seemed to come harder.
Bobby finally stopped, but he didn't let Craig up. The only sound was Craig's crying. He was sure Bobby would let him up after a couple of minutes, but he didn't.
"You want to tell me what your problem is yet?" Bobby finally spoke, after what seemed an eternity.
Craig squirmed slightly; Bobby's knee was digging into his stomach.
Bobby gave him another hard smack to his ass. "You lay still. You ain't done here. I'm just resting up a bit." He spoke loud. "Unless you're gonna tell me what the fuck you're problem it, I'm gonna finish this."
"I don't like the pills." Craig cried out. "I don't like them."
"That ain't good enough. You lied to me every time you took those pills out of my hand, do you know that?" Bobby yelled that time. "You fucking lied to me. You were the last person I ever thought would lie to me like that. You didn't like them; you should have spoke up and told me."
"I did, you didn't listen." Craig shot the words back angrily. "You never listen." He jumped with the hard crack that landed on his ass.
"I listen to you. That don't mean you're gonna get your own way all the fucking time. You need those pills." Bobby yelled again. "I ain't gonna trust you again Craig. I ain't gonna give you one bit of freedom to screw me over again." Bobby pulled him up and stood, draggin the teen to his feet as he did. "Okay, this is done. I'm too fucking pissed at you right now." He shook his head. "You fix your bed back up and then you get your ass downstairs. I got shit for you to do other than sit on the couch like a brain dead idiot."
Craig was surprised by the abrupt end to his punishment.
"You're gonna take down the Christmas tree and put away all the decorations. Then you're gonna pack up your game system, I'm selling it. You are gonna gather up your sketch pads and give them to me, and I'm gonna put them up. The rest of the day you're gonna stand your ass in the corner and keep quiet. There ain't gonna be no games like there was the last time. You're gonna keep quiet, or I'm gonna light up your ass again." Bobby stepped to the door and pulled it open.
"That's not fair." Craig reached up and wiped at the tears falling down his face. He hated Bobby Mercer at that moment.
"Yeah, it's not fair. Get used to it. That's what happens when you fuck me over. I ain't gonna put up with it. You know I love the hell out of you, but I ain't got the time right now to have you pullin' shit on me, you know that." Bobby sounded frustrated and angry. "I won't let you get away with it either. I'll deal with the shit if you want to keep dishin' it out Craig. I would rather not have to, I'd rather me and you talk, and work shit out together, but you made a choice, now you gotta live with the consequences. Believe me when I tell you, you ain't gonna like my consequences when you fuck up. I'm a hard ass, I ain't gonna coddle you like Ma did. You should know me better than that by now."
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. Craig wasn't' sure if Bobby was waiting for him to say something. He finally steeled his fears and drew in a deep breath. "I want to go back to school." He muttered.
Bobby laughed a good, hearty laugh that showed how amusing the statement was.
Craig swallowed at the nerves Bobby's amusement wore on. "I'm tired of sitting around all of the time. I want to go back to school, and be with my friends. I want to be normal again." He wasn't aware how true the words were until they were out. "Please Bobby; I just want to be normal."
Bobby stopped laughing and studied the boy's face. He let out a heavy huff of air and shook his head. "You just played me for a fool for three days, and now you're gonna lay that kind of shit on me? No." He shook his head.
Craig felt more tears surging. "I just want to be normal again. I'm tired of feeling different, like there's something wrong with me." He wasn't exactly sure why he was saying the words, until he felt his mind tingling with the familiar sensation of the drugs hitting his system. It was the pills, he knew it was. He was losing his control to the pills, and while he hated the idea, saying the words did make him feel better.
Bobby stared at him for a long moment. "I'll think about it." His voice held hesitation. "It's gonna take a lot of convincing for me to think you're ready for school." He bent down and picked up one of the pills from the floor. "Especially after this kind of shit, you know that, don't you?"
Craig wiped at his tear streaked face again. "I hate those pills. They make me feel weird, like I can't think."
"Well, maybe we can talk to the doctor about changing them, but you don't just stop taking them because you don't like them. The doctor gave them to you for a reason. You got that?" Bobby turned back to look at the boy as he held up the pill.
Craig nodded his head slowly.
"You ain't gonna get away with that again, I won't give you a chance." Bobby nodded his head and sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, I'll call the doctor and see if we can get you into his office. Maybe he can come up with something else that won't make you feel so fucking bad. But no matter what he decides, whatever medication he puts you on, you are gonna take it."
Craig nodded his head and felt a pressure release from his chest that he hadn't been aware was there "I'm sorry." He felt more tears surge forth and couldn't hold them back.
Bobby looked as if his own anger was deflating quickly. "Come here." He held his arms out.
Craig took the step to his brother and grabbed hold of him. He buried his face in Bobby's shirt and cried hard for the first time since Saturday.
Bobby's arms came around him and held onto him. "Okay, I know it ain't been easy. I know that. I know the shit you gotta deal with Craig. I really do, and I want to help, but I can't do that if you're sneaking around behind my back. You got that? You gotta be honest with me. You gotta talk to me when shit starts bugging you."
"You were busy." Craig spoke into the man's shirt. "The police, and..."
"Craig, you know all you had to do was say something and you would have had my full attention, I thought you were doin' okay. You come first. You got that?" Bobby gave him a quick squeeze. "But I ain't no mind reader. You gotta speak up and tell me what the hell is goin' on sometimes."
Craig nodded his head and breathed in a shaky breath. He didn't realize how much he'd missed feeling close to his oldest brother. He hadn't felt anything for days. He hadn't cared that he was putting distance between himself and everyone else, he had liked it. Now he was letting Bobby's presence wash over him, and it felt good, better than he thought it would.
"You're still being punished though. You're gonna fix up your bed, pick up these pills and then come down and work on getting that tree out of the house. You need something to do, I'm giving you plenty. Then you have the corner to stand in. You owe me an hour in the corner, and then we'll see what happens next." Bobby spoke quietly. "You understand that?"
Craig nodded his head again. He didn't want to give up his place in Bobby's arms right then, but he knew it was going to end any moment. "I love you Bobby." He muttered.
Bobby's arms tightened. "I love you too kid." He gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Now get to work." He pulled his arms away.