Better than myself Part 17

(Sequel to As a Man)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm not making any money, and all the wonderful characters belong to the lovely JE. I would borrow Ranger for awhile, though.

Warning: Graphic language, disturbing scenes, tissue warning - because I cried when I wrote it.

JJ's POV

I want to be excited that I can hear my Uncle and his friends downstairs with my Mom and Dad. I have always wanted to meet him. We have always spoken on the phone and he sends me the best presents. But he has never actually come here. I hear my parents talking sometimes about how he just doesn't like Boston. I am nervous, Grandpa says he is dangerous and kills people. Bad people, right? Would that include me? I feel like a bad person. Grandpa says Uncle Ranger (that is what he has told me to call him, he hates being called Ricky) will be made because I am now Grandpa's favorite.

I don't want to be the favorite anymore, it scares me and it makes me feel all mixed up inside. I love my Grandpa, I don't want to disappoint him or make him mad. He is very scary when he is mad. He doesn't get mad at me very often, because I know what makes him that way. He hates when I tell him no. So I stopped telling him no. Even thought I am so scared every time he touches me, but I am also scared when he doesn't. I know he shouldn't, I learned about it in school, but it feels good. I don't know, when he doesn't touch me, I am afraid that he has stopped loving me. But I don't like when he does because it makes me feel so bad inside. I am so mixed up. It feels like everything I know is wrong feels good and I just want to disappear.

I always feel; I don't know how to say it, like someone let all of the air out of me. No one knows though, I am great at pretending. At least I used to be. It seems to get harder and harder to hide things. Hard to wash my own sheets, before mom finds them, because I am embarrassed, a 10 year old shouldn't wet the bed. Hard to hide that I am worried about Dad. Isn't it only a matter of time before he starts touching me too? That is what Grandpa says always happens. I know my Dad loves me and wouldn't want to hurt me, but Grandpa says that he loves me, too. Isn't that what you do to people you love. Maybe Dad doesn't love me then?

I am lying on the bed with my hands over my face, when I hear my door open. I don't look up, I just lay perfectly still. Grandpa always says I am a good boy when I don't move, sometimes. I don't hear anything else, and then I hear my chair being moved across the floor. I peak through my hands, Uncle Ranger! He is huge! And is that a gun on his shoulder? I hope he hasn't come to kill me, but then if he has, I wouldn't be so scared anymore.

Uncle Ranger calls my name, I know he wants me to look at him, I don't answer. I don't move. He tries again and shakes the bed a little.

I guess I need to answer. "Yeah" He says he wants to talk to me, man to man. But I need to sit up and look at him. Okay, I sit up and he sorta smiles and points at my shirt. I am wearing the grey Army shirt he sent me and he is wearing one too. I say surprised, that I thought he only wore black that is what Dad always says. He says he usually does, but his girlfriend says he looked scary enough without being in all back, and he didn't want to scare me.

I am still really nervous, but I am if he wanted to hurt me, wouldn't he try to scare me? I tell him, "I always wanted to meet you, but you never came around. I love all of the Army and baseball stuff you send me."

He smiles a little, "Good, I am not in the Army anymore, so maybe I can come around more and find out what else you would like."

I don't answer right away; I am not sure what he wants. Why he would come around now? He shrugs, like my silence doesn't hurt his feelings. It always hurts my Mom when I don't answer her questions. He just continues saying that he doesn't want anything, but to talk to me.

He starts to tell me that sometimes things happen that are so frightening that you feel you need to keep it to yourself. Those are sometimes the things you need to tell someone. No one who loves you will make you keep a secret that makes you feel bad. If they loved you they would want you to get all the help you needed. Nobody knows that you need help if you don't ask. If something is wrong you have to ask for help.

What does he know? When has he ever needed help? From what Dad says, he is a hero. Heroes don't need anyone. I can't ask for help, who would help me? Grandpa says if I ever tell, he will have me sent away, like he sent Uncle Ranger away when he was a teenager.

I just tell him I don't need help; I don't have anything to say. He asks if he can still talk to me, if I want to listen. I shrug, but don't get up.

He starts to tell me about a little boy named Carlos. Carlos' stepfather didn't like him too much, but it was the only father Carlos ever had. Because Carlos' stepfather didn't like him, he sometime would hit him, would hit him so much that it left scars. That the stepfather would go down to Carlos' room and touch him in ways that felt so good and so bad at the same time. Carlos never told, so it kept happening and because it kept happening he never told. He felt like he was doing something to make it happen and because the touches felt better than the beatings, they would ask his stepfather for it, rather than get hit.

I can't look away, I can't stop listening, and I don't want to hear this story. I do want to know what happens to Carlos.

He continues, Carlos finally grew stronger and meaner than his stepfather and made him stop. Even after it stopped Carlos felt bad and dirty inside, like something was wrong with him. He felt that it was always his fault. So, he still never told. As Carlos became a very strong man, that tried to do the right thing and help people, he was afraid of people finding out his secret. He was a man who still didn't sleep well and still sometimes pretended he was invisible. He was great at pretending that he didn't need help, but inside he was screaming for someone to help him.

I am starting to cry, I don't cry. I ask Uncle Ranger, what happened to Carlos?

He looks at me, to make sure I am paying attention and says, "He is right here, Carlos is my middle name. And your grandfather is my stepfather."

Uncle Ranger? My Dad always called him the baddest dog on the block. And Grandpa could hurt him when he was a boy? I get angry because I don't want anyone to hurt like I do.

"Ranger, all I have to do is ask for help? He nods.

It takes everything in me to say, "Help me."

He nods and I see tears in his eyes, too. "I think I want to talk to my Mom now." He nods and gets off the chair. "She would be a great place to start for help."

"Can I call you sometimes, too?"

"Any time, anytime you need to talk, you can call me. It doesn't matter what time it is, just call."

"You can call me too, Uncle, anytime you need to talk. I wish he were dead."

Uncle Ranger says, "Me, too."

As he is walking me downstairs, I swear I hear him whisper, soon.

I stop and I hug him, he freezes up for a second – but I understand I don't always like to be touched either. I quickly move away, but he leans down and hugs me back and says he is so sorry.

I look up and tell him, it will be okay now. We will be okay now.

A/N: I have special thanks for those who helped me with the direction of this story margaret fowler, christibabe, Danababy1076 and gave me such wonderful ideas, it kept this story moving right along. Once I got a direction, the words came easier/harder than I thought.

I hope I tackled this with the sensitivity I knew it deserved. Thanks for your reviews, keep them coming.

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