A/N: Please don't give up on me. I know these updates are coming in like snail mail. –sigh- This chapter is rated M for a glass or two of lemonade :)
Disclaimer: I still own nothing!
Simon's less than gentle request for silence fell on deaf ears. The two unexpected visitors continued their heated debate, oblivious to the fact that they had attracted a small audience. Said audience could only watch anger fly back and forth, not exactly sure when it would be safe to intervene.
"Why are we even here, Mom? The last thing this family needs is to hear from me. By now, she's probably happily married and raising a family of her own just as I have been doing for the last nine years."
"Oh and I take it you're perfectly fine with looking over every single aspect of Billy's life all by yourself?" she sighed.
"What other choice do I have? Lisa died when he was just a baby. Contrary to your every demand, I wasn't going to let a couple of strangers raise my son!" Almost as soon as he stepped out, taking a spot next to Martin, Simon saw exactly who it was that had come over unannounced. For a minute, he wondered why. He then decided to just let this play out. From the way they were talking it out, the answer would come out soon enough.
"You were a teenage father, Wilson! What other choice did you have that didn't jeopardize your promising future?" At this point, Wilson wanted to laugh out loud. Since the very beginning she took it upon herself to make decisions for him and his family. Like the urge to leave her standing there, he resisted the deep desire to vocalize just how ridiculous she sounded. Even after all this time, his mother refused to treat him like the adult he was. To her, he remained an immature child, unable to make up his own mind. She still called him every week, giving him an earful of what she thought was the right thing to do.
This wasn't the first time they'd had this debate. She had made great progress in accepting at least a few of his decisions. Wilson wondered if he had in fact worn her down or if she secretly hoped he would give into her thought process.
The surprise visit to Glen Oak was the woman's first involvement in searching for a mother figure for her grandson. In a way, Wilson was grateful. To see the family who had opened their hearts to him again, after so many years, would be fantastic. His son was finally old enough to understand who they are and what they all meant to him. Another side held back flaming anger. Again his oh so loving mother was dictating his every move.
"Mom, you do know whose house this is, don't you?" Wilson asked carefully, knowing he'd shared all of his dating troubles with her. Not that he had any other options. His mother dragging out every single detail of his love life told him that she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Yes, the lovely Camden girl," she smiled. "Mary, isn't it? The one you wouldn't shut up about, even months after she left you?" Hearing her bring up again, how much an impact Mary had on him, brought a light blush to his cheeks. He saw out of the corner of his eye, earlier on in the argument, that they weren't alone. And why would they be? The rising of their voices (or at least his mother's) could attract the entire neighborhood if she got any louder.
"Is bringing up that much information really necessary?" he mumbled. The older woman sent a pair of rolling eyes in his direction.
"Well it's the truth, is it not?" she said. Wilson measured her gaze with a solid stare of his own. "You're my son, Wilson. I know you better than you think." Not that you let me keep anything from you he thought. Clearing his throat with shuffling feet, he scratched his head in embarrassment.
"I found Cory not too long after," he pointed out.
"Oh yes, that perfect little angel," she said sarcastically. "Isn't she the one who left you after falling for her manager?" she clarified.
"Mary left me too, Mom. I'm sure you remember the long speech you gave me when lovely day came along."
"Do you know why she left?" she asked. "The girl was terrified! When most women go out with a man, they don't come prepared to handle extra baggage."
"Billy is not baggage! He's my son and just because you don't like that I had a baby, doesn't give you the right to objectify him! You're just mad that I'm not your little boy anymore. Wake up, Mom. I'm a man now. I'm a father. You have to accept the fact that you can't tell me how to run my life!"
"I have every right! That child ruined your life!" Unbeknownst to the two of them, her outbursts were heard, loud and clear by those in the house. Before she could even utter a greeting to Wilson, Mary stormed out onto the front porch, and with a fiery determination, slapped the older woman across the cheek. As her face twisted in pain and disgust, she turned to see a clearly pissed off Mary staring her right in the eye.
"I'll have you know, Mrs. West, that I loved that little boy! In fact, despite the break up between me and your son, I still do! For that very reason, I will not stand by and watch you call your grandson a mistake. I don't care that I have no idea who you are. I'm sure Wilson let you know that I was the one who proposed? Yeah, it's not traditional or normal. Welcome to the 21st century. A time where age does not dictate when they find love.
Your son's an intelligent man, Mrs. West. He has a set of solid morals and beliefs that, no doubt you were the one to teach him. He wouldn't have offered something so important to someone he didn't have honest feelings for. Billy was a token of their love. Something of such importance is not considered lightly, as I'm sure you understand. That being said, Billy was not in any form a mistake. He came into this world loved and wanted."
Behind them, outside of the bickering trio's line of sight, Billy crawled out of the backseat. Quietly, he stepped in behind his father, using him as a shield from verbal blows.
"Daddy," he whispered. Slightly startled, Wilson came to face him. He watched him carefully, being sure that his face gave away no signs of having heard the conversation.
"Billy," he said surprised. As Wilson watched him closely, he could tell that their argument had been heard. The boy's face told him that he had taken in every word. His solemn expression and the way he was backing away from Wilson slowly, told them that every single word spoken confused him.
"I…I…I was a mistake," he said, his small voice catching. There was no question in his quietly stated sentence. This came out as a statement. A statement said with a tangible pain that ate away inside of him. Mary didn't have to hear him say it. The hurt was written all over his face.
Whether it was a mother's instinct or experience with Billy himself, she found herself falling into the familiar role. Despite the few years it had been since he'd seen her, he found himself stepping closer to her. When he was far enough away, he could feel the familiarity of Mary's presence. He may have been just a little boy when she and his father were seeing each other but hidden among the millions of childhood memories he stored, Billy could remember that she was one of the few who tried.
Had it not been for her leaving, she would be his mother. Mary would fill the large hole in his life that still lay unfilled. With hesitation, not sure if he was even allowed to be so close, he held himself against her, slightly surprised that her arms came around him in comfort. Had she not been so pregnant, she would have met him at eye level. Instead she brought him out slowly, a set of warm eyes meeting his flustered gaze.
"Oh no, honey of course you're not a mistake." Years had passed but Billy knew who she was and what she meant to both him and his father. He found a comfort in the way she held him and he'd bask in a mother's touch for as long as time allowed.
"I didn't say that, son," Wilson clarified. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"But Grandma said…"
"It doesn't matter what Grandma said," he whispered.
"Excuse me?" his mother said sharply. Wilson turned to her with a solid glare.
"You don't need to be excused. You need to apologize. What you just said was beyond cruel."
"Oh for Christ sake!" she bellowed. "The boy is nine years old! He deserves to know the truth! There's no need to sugarcoat it for him. "Billy sweetheart," she whispered going in to touch his shoulder tenderly. Like a hand to burning flame, he stepped back quickly from her. His grandmother's mouth became a grim line, sharp words ready to spill themselves out. With a heavy sigh, she continued. "Your dad didn't plan on having you. You just…happened," she said in an attempt to smooth rough edges.
After fighting the festering hurt, that last statement finally let his eyes water. Warm hands ran through his hair as one of them ran gently along his cheek. He dug his feet firmly into the ground below him, fighting every urge to run back into the car behind him. There, he was safe, deaf to all of these vicious accusations. He realized that running now wouldn't erase the ones he did hear earlier.
"You're a liar," he whispered. The older woman's shock was clear. Her hand came up in a fit of anger. Aimed directly for his left cheek, the intended blow was blocked by a firm and deadly grip.
"Don't you dare touch him," Mary demanded in a whisper.
"If I could interrupt for just a minute," Martin said finally having had enough. "First of all, you touch him again, I have you arrested. Secondly, my son also, "just happened". Like your son, I was thrown into fatherhood long before I was even remotely prepared. That does not in any way mean, that I regret the fact that he's here. You're his grandmother, Mrs. West. If you cannot learn to love him for the person he is and stop your sharp opinions, I'm going to have to ask you to reevaluate the guidelines to being a decent human being. If you'd like to skip the fan fest of being put in the back of a squad car with cool sirens and pretty lights, I suggest you leave now, while it's still walking away of your own free will."
"If Wilson hasn't already told you, I am a Camden," Mary added. "Flaming tempers fly thick through my blood. Push one more button and I make no promises to what happens next. Step off the property now, before we're forced to kick you out."
"The boys can stay," Martin finished. Mary and Wilson eyed him curiously. Even Simon, who was watching the drama unfold from the safety of the porch, couldn't help being a little surprised.
"Like hell," she said slowly. "I deserve to be here just as much as they do. I'm the one who suggested they even come here! Where the hell am I supposed to go?"
"Oh, there's a nice little motel about two blocks up. It's not too far a walk actually. Seeing as a nice big blue vein is nicely defined on your forehead, I'm sure some fresh air would do you worlds of good. Unless of course you would like a ride, up to the county jail. I'm sure a heated room is preferred over a cell block but then again, the choice is yours," Mary provided with a smile.
She could feel Billy shiver beside her and ran her hands down his arms, taking his hands in hers. "Hey, are you hungry?" He nodded nervously. "See the one standing on the porch over there?" Again Billy nodded. "That's my brother Simon. He'll show you were all the good snacks are," she smiled. Giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the house, she watched him shuffle away. "Your dad and I will be in, in a minute," she said. Sharing a moment of silent communication, Simon nodded. Leading him inside, he closed the door behind them.
"Listen here, bitch! I may not know who the hell you are but at this point in time I really do not care. For God sake, he's nine years old! Where do you go off lying to him like that?"
"It's not a lie. What I told him, what I've been trying to defend for the last hour, is that he was unplanned. His very existence has reshaped Wilson's entire life! As his mother, I only want what's best for him!"
"And what if what's best for me, is being a father to my son? What if what's best for me, best for us, is to live a life free of your constant nagging? You may not agree with some of my choices, Mother, but I'd expect you to at least respect them. I've come to terms with the fact that you can't even do that.
Instead you find a twisted joy in telling me how I'm supposed to raise, Billy. Weaved in those demands is always a way of telling me what a failure I am. I do not care that you call me a failure. You can call me whatever you damn well please. I will not stand for you feeding him a bowl of bold faced lies at your every opportunity."
"You'll thank me for the truth. One day you'll be grateful that I was the only one who was ever truly honest with that kid." The swinging open of the front door stopped anything else from being said just then. Out stepped Kevin with a less than satisfied Aaron, pulling at his ear.
"Da, da! Da, da!" he yelped. As they came closer Martin could see him continuously cringe at the piercing volume directed at his ear.
"Take a chill pill, little man. You're gonna blow my eardrum," he sighed.
"Little bastard child," she whispered under her breath. Martin's head shot up as he fought every urge to smack her.
"The only thing from stopping my full reaction to that statement is my firmly taught moral of never laying a hand on a woman," he said with deadly calm. Watching Kevin's face, he could tell that he too had heard her speak.
"Martin may not be able to touch you," Mary growled,"but I sure as hell can!" she added sending a fist to her cheek. "You better watch your filthy mouth when it comes to my family!
"I'll trade you, Martin," Kevin said with a gleam in his eye. Taking his vacated spot, Kevin whispered a gentle warning about stressing out. Mary just glared at him, placing a protective hand below her quickly growing belly.
"If you'll excuse me, duty calls," Martin said taking a side step to where Kevin stood. The elation he felt at being wanted over Ruthie was short lived. Almost immediately, his son's weight was thrown at him, his small body curling up against him. When he was slightly calmed, Martin took a minute to smile. Finally, Aaron was letting himself want to be with other people. He had no idea how long this would last, but he'd understand it as small steps in the right direction. He hadn't expanded too much, seeing as he still looked to just the two of them, but as the doctor had warned, it was a slow progression.
"Your girlfriend's asleep and he won't let anybody else touch him," Kevin whispered. Seeing this as his escape from the battle being fought in his front yard, Martin was more than glad to leave his post.
"If she aggravates her anymore," Martin said pointing his head in Mary's direction, "I want the woman walking outta here with a pair of shiny bracelets around her wrists," he whispered.
"I heard that!" she growled.
"Oh good! If you heard that, then I'm sure you can hear this. Step away from my house before I have Kevin arrest you for trespassing." With that, Martin made his way into the house. Closing the door behind him, it took him a second to remember why his usually quiet house was packed with so many people. Soon enough, the image of the Camden home came to mind. Remembering who had done it, every bit of self control kept him quiet. Taking in his chaotic living room, his eyes failed their search for Ruthie. Panic seized him for a couple of seconds before he met Matt's gaze.
"I put her upstairs in the master bedroom," he supplied. He could feel his tense shoulders drop as he walked further into the room. He nodded, proceeding to the small kitchen. Since he'd come back inside, Martin could make out six different conversations. No wonder you're freaking out he thought. This was the first time the house was this crowded with people. Usually, Aaron was exposed to no more than a handful of people at a time.
"Shh, you're okay. Too many people huh?" Aaron nuzzled him with a quiet whimper. "I'm gonna try and see if we can sneak away for dinner," he whispered. While weaving through the room, he said a quick hello to everyone he passed. Eventually, he pushed his way up and out, jogging up the stairs. Being on the second floor, the amount of noise from down below became muffled. Taking a deep breath, he snuck into the bedroom being sure not to disturb Ruthie while he pulled out a bottle from the diaper bag.
Taking in the bottle, held just out of reach, Aaron verbalized his frustration in not being able to reach for it with a round of grunts and whimpers. Looking over to make sure that she was in a deep enough sleep, he carefully sat on the bed, being sure to make as little noise as possible.
"Calm yourself," he laughed. Aaron just stared at him, watching the curve of his lips. "It's crazy down there, isn't it?" His son's deep breathing while he ate was his only reply. Taking in his Aaron's relaxed expression, Martin sighed. The little show in his yard refreshed his memory on his life and what it was now. Whether he liked it or not, Aaron was here. He wasn't going to be going anywhere for the next eighteen years or more. And even after leaving, they would be tied forever.
Loosening his grip on his bottle, Aaron stared up at him, small hands coming up to brush Martin's chin. How could anyone not want this? he wondered. Only the heartless could look at a child's innocence with so much hate. Today he was reminded that, although the life he lived was not ideal, it was his. Though it had come along sooner than he expected, fatherhood was the one thing he would never wish to go back and change. Given the opportunity, he found himself wishing that it had been Ruthie instead. Then again, Aaron wouldn't be Aaron. In the silence of the bedroom, Martin could hear nothing beyond Ruthie's even breathing. Not too long after, the little boy joined her, his eyes coming together in much needed sleep.
"I guess that's what happens when you miss out on about two days of sleep," he whispered. The noise of flowing conversation was still heard loud and clear. Martin rolled his eyes but couldn't help chuckling to himself. As chaotic as his house had become in the last few hours, there was a warmth about it. There was a love among each and every one of them. Even if he had no idea who some of them were just yet, something told him it wouldn't be long before they all became fixtures in this quickly expanding family.
That's just the way the Camdens were. They took someone in, not for a day, not for a week, but for months at a time. Living in the same house built a bond among them all, no matter how annoying they first started out. Martin stopped for a minute. Like everything else in the world, every habit had an exception. He wanted nothing more than to run the idiot's face into the ground. In the midst of his internal fuming, music came blasting through the floor. Not surprisingly, Aaron startled, his small face twisting in frustration.
"Shh buddy. Go back to sleep," he whispered. Of course, Aaron was having none of it. His desperate cries enhanced in order to be heard over the booming speakers. "You've got a serious pair of lungs on you," he mumbled. Every one of those little screams is tearing right through my ears. I only have one pair." Letting his fingers crawl up his back, Martin brushed his flushed cheeks with his knuckle. The little boy's amplified discomfort eventually became a muffled whimper when he found his father's knuckle to occupy him. When Martin realized where his hand was going, he took a minute to be grateful that, for now, there was nothing but a pair of swelling gums. "It's really amazing how much your tune changes when you have someone's hand in your mouth," he mumbled.
"Martin? Why are they playing...the Conga?" Ruthie mumbled, flipping over slowly while rubbing sleep from her eyes. He could only shake his head, failing to hide an all out laugh.
"I've learned to stop asking questions when it comes to your family," he sighed. Again she groaned, cringing when the struggle to move again presented itself. Hearing her labored breathing, Martin spun around, concern coating his eyes. "Are you hurting?" he asked. Closing her eyes to bite back the pain, she smiled shaking her head.
"Kevin really can't sit still, can he?" Ruthie laughed. "First the table dancing and now he's convinced the entire house to form a Conga line," she giggled.
"Who's to say this was Kevin's call?" Martin said. "As I've recently discovered, my newly acquired grandparents aren't exactly your typical elderly couple," he pointed out.
"I've finally discovered your secret to handling my mentally unstable relatives," Ruthie smiled, dragging herself across the bed, dropping a light kiss on the nape of his neck. "It's in your blood," she whispered. Feeling her breath crawl across his bare skin, Martin could feel a shiver travel down his spine. He could see her face shape into a satisfied smirk and groaned.
"Ruthie sweetheart, don't go starting something you don't intend to finish," he warned between clamped teeth.
"Who says I'm starting anything?" she teased, gently taking the lobe of his ear and gnawing at it lightly. While allowing her teeth to keep the soft of his ear captive, she smiled when she saw him stiffen next to her. "I'm just…massaging your ear," she whispered.
"Ha, yeah right. "Massaging your ear" my ass," he growled. Ruthie pulled away from him, shooting a warning glance in his direction. She giggled when she was how much the little game affected him. He frowned like a toddler that just had his favorite toy taken away. Much to Ruthie's satisfaction, Martin was still...frustrated, the growth in his pants, physical evidence of just how effective a little whispering and close proximity could be. "You know exactly what you're doing, you little minx." The accusation came out between clenched teeth as he fought the urge to flip her like a ready made pancake.
"Language, Brewer," she said huskily. "Aaron's still in the room." The small distraction she provided made him forget why he was even there in the first place. "Seeing as our little game hasn't re-woken him, he should be good for the next hour or so. Go put him in the nursery and we'll do a little dancing."
"Ruthie, we already took a risk with your sustained injuries yesterday. Do you really wanna risk it a second time?" Martin asked, concern crawling out of his struggled replies. "You're not even supposed to be moving. At all."
"And in all the time you've known me, how many times have I listened to a doctor's orders?" she asked; the breeze of her question, cool on his cheek.
"N-n-none," he struggled, one hand anchoring him to the bed before he did something he knew he'd later regret.
"You know me so well," she smiled. "Now go, put him down before he wakes up again. I have a little work to do." Martin nodded meekly, an obvious limp taking him across the hall. On his way over, he couldn't help the hint of regret that coursed through him. If this was his Ruthie not even a day after her first time, God only knew how honest experience would shape her. Being sure to walk through the exposed sound of music as quickly as his current situation allowed, he settled Aaron in the nursery as quickly and gently as possible. As he walked out of the room, Martin found himself sending up a silent prayer for the strength to resist. He knew, deep down, that it was almost impossible, but a man could hope.
When he finally made it back into the bedroom, the door was closed, a set of strawberries and heated chocolate sitting in the hall. With a raised brow, Martin wondered how exactly she was able to even acquire them. He only sighed. Now was not the time to ask questions. Just the sight of these snacks had him pulsing. For a second he was angry. What had her time in Scotland really taught her? Was she lying about having saved herself for him? Letting out a heavy sigh, he decided he'd address those concerns later. Doing so now would just kill the mood. As wrong as Martin knew it was, the idea of round two excited him. They would be just as careful as the last time, he reasoned.
"How did you…?" he asked while walking over to her. In falsified anger she brought her dainty finger to his lips, a quiet demand to simply shut up.
"No questions, Brewer."
"But…"
"What. Did I say. About questions?" she growled. Martin gulped, deciding it was safer to just stay silent. Saying anything else could very well get him in trouble. "Good boy," she whispered, her nails gently clawing at his chest.
"If you hurt yourself…" he warned.
"Oh baby, I love how much you care. Really I do but do me a favor and shut that gorgeous mouth of yours."
"Yes….ma'am," he obliged, almost dropping their little toys as he fought his growing arousal. Seeing his dilemma, she wordlessly pointed a finger at nightstand. He nodded, careful not to drop them in his hurry to free his hands. While his back was turned, Ruthie took the opportunity to trap his closest belt loop between her teeth. Feeling the pull, Martin couldn't hide the gasp that slipped from between his lips. The frustration was only made worse when she was able to expose a small portion of his lower back, her teeth grazing on his tailbone.
"So….not…fair," he groaned. Making sure not to knock over the nightstand, Martin spun around, taking no time at all to pin her. "I think…a little payback's in order," he smirked. Careful not to have her screaming (for the wrong reasons), he gently swung her legs over, wasting no time in sending his lips flying from her naval to the curve of her breasts. Bit by bit he unclothed her until eventually, the shirt itself had been torn off in desperation. Now, only her laced bra remained making Martin worlds happier when he saw that the clasp was right in front of him. He fumbled with it for a good minute before finally releasing its prisoners. As his mouth worked to reach the intended destination, he made small little pit stops along her skin, just to see exactly how tortured she was.
Each time he looked up at her, Martin could see the yearning in her gaze. By the time he'd reached the curve of her ribcage, her taut body was covered in chills. While keeping his torturous pace, he could see Ruthie struggling to keep quiet, her reactions protected by the skewering of her teeth through her bottom lip. His teeth took over, completing the trip to her tender breasts. Noticing how swelled they had become, his fingers danced to each of her nipples. Once there, both became captors, a gentle twist to each, breaking her silence.
"Sweet Jesus, Martin! I….I…This shirt has got to go!" she roared. Within seconds, Ruthie's shaking fingers had made it through the first three buttons of his shirt before she eventually gave up, ferociously shredding it, exposing his very sculpted chest. Dipping her entire hand into the heated dessert, the chocolate became paint, Martin's chest a canvas for Ruthie's many devious creations.
Her tongue lapped up the mess but not before sending a strawberry in for a dip and watching its juices course down his body. Like her parents had taught her, Ruthie responsibly cleaned up after herself, her tongue traveling up further until their lips met.
"Comdomcomdomcomdom!" Martin exclaimed while letting his tongue travel her jaw. Ruthie went in to examine her work and smiled. Just as she'd planned, his growth was still there, exactly as she'd left it, just a couple sizes bigger. Wriggling out from under her, Martin searched furiously for the knob on the first drawer. In his hurry the entire drawer fell out, leaving his hand to now search the single drawer. While he was doing that (as if trying to hold it wasn't heard enough), he could feel Ruthie's soft hands massaging further south.
"Fuck, Ruthie! Is that really necessary?" he screamed. With a wink, she only nodded, her eyes watching the rhythmic motions of his swelled arousal. "Put this thing on, NOW!" At this point, containing himself was physically impossible. To have her touching him period was a problem. To have her doing this could drive a man medically insane.
"So demanding, aren't we?" she sang. Martin clamped himself together, a fiery growl his only reply.
"As if you weren't "demanding" before any of this even started!" He sent his head in the direction her hands were going. "That right there? Yeah, that's all your fault. Put the condom on before I run my head into that head board over there," he said roughly.
"Alright already," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. "It's on. Fly for me, baby," she whispered. Knowing exactly what she meant by that, he finally had the freedom to release. "There we go," she coaxed clawing her fingers at his thigh. It was truly amazing what this woman could do to him. Just a touch, a tickle to his bare skin set his whole body in motion. Gently rubbing her first two fingers along his thigh, her teeth grazed his flesh, leaving a prominent bite mark.
He could feel his breath hitch as her hands worked to heal the intended injury. She could see it in his eyes. Not a word had to be said for her to notice the deep need to be inside her. Despite the very adult atmosphere, his expression resembled that of a child begging his mother for the brightest toy. Ruthie just shook her head.
"It's all about patience, Martin," she whispered.
"What exactly did I do to deserve this?" he asked. I'm the only one being tortured here," he pointed out. This was nothing like pizza night. This right here was exhilarating. It was more than natural response of the human body. Chocolate fondue sent him soaring. The sight of the woman he loved as her curls tickled his bare skin was enough to make Martin want to shoot himself in the foot. Like he knew it would be, time with Ruthie was more than sex. It was love. Right then, he wished more than anything that he could turn back the clock, erase having done anything with Sandy and save himself for her. He wished more than anything that he'd waited for his angel to fall.
"This…" she breathed, "…is for leaving me. This is for lying to me. This is for refusing to wait…for me," she smiled slyly, marking him as hers, just below his collarbone. "And this," she growled, all hint of play wiped away completely, "is for letting me be the last to know! For allowing me to believe that nothing between us had changed!" she finished with a resounding slap to his cheek. Slightly shocked at how quickly she went from play to….whatever this was, Martin cradled his throbbing jaw.
"EVERYTHING MARTIN! EVERYTHING CHANGED! Did you think I was an idiot? Did you think I didn't notice how little you cared that summer? After you got back from Simon's it was like you were on a completely different planet! You just…brushed me away, threw me off to the side. You made me an inconvenience that you knew you could deal with later."
"That's not…" he defended.
"Don't. Speak," she cried. "Don't you dare open your mouth just yet. I'm not done." Again Martin clamped his mouth shut, fearing for his own safety at this point. He realized now, that bubbling up to the surface was a pain held down for more than a year. A pain directed at only him. Rightfully so, seeing as he was the one to cause it. "I hoped Martin! Selfishly I hoped, each and every night, that my brother was his father. Maybe then you could pull yourself away from that bitch! Maybe then, for once, you could see the one standing right in front of you!"
"You….I…"
"Not yet!" she bellowed. "She took you away from me. Sandy took you away from me, and with that, more than a year of my happiness. Do you even care to know how many nights of sleep I lost over you? Do you care know how many nights I just sat in that kitchen or on that porch, praying to wake up one day from this horrible nightmare and realize it was all a stupid dream? God, I remember one night, I actually sat on the porch until the sun came up, waiting for you to tell me that every single one of those test was a lie. I think I even saw you once. I saw you walk through that gate. I heard you tell me that Simon was in fact the father and that you were free! I was over the moon! You took me in your arms and I just stayed there, elated at the turn of events."
"Ruthie I…" he started.
"It was all a living nightmare! You became a father, parenting with a woman you barely even knew. She was and is a selfish witch, who later abandoned all responsibility because she simply couldn't handle the work that went into it. She paid no mind to the fact that she was leaving her son motherless. She could care less that she was putting a thousand pound weight on your shoulders alone. Tell me Martin. Who was there to pick up every one of your scattered pieces? Who was there to help you keep the little sanity you had left, intact?"
"You…" he whispered. At this point Martin had potent tears coursing down his own face. He'd never seen Ruthie this angry, this hurt. To know that he made her like this tore him into a million little tiny pieces.
"And what do I have to show for it? Thanks to your love of pizza, I'm now only second best! I've become a mother to a child I can't even call my own. A mother to a child I'm terrified could be ripped away from me at any second," she whimpered. "I love him, Martin. I love that little boy as if it were I who carried him, who birthed him! To know that…To know that she could swoop in and take him away from me…"
"Oh Ruthie baby, she won't take Aaron away from you," he whispered. "I won't allow it." The sight of Ruthie reduced to tears made his blood boil. He wanted nothing more than the ability to take them away. This woman was truly his brightest angel. Not many would be so accepting of a child that wasn't her own. The fact that it was someone she hated made their case all the more special.
"You want the truth? The truth is that I didn't go to Scotland to "expand my horizons". I went with the hope that, in enough time, I'd forget about you. I'd forget about everything I felt for you and everything you meant to me. I wanted you gone, Martin, out of my life forever, just like you had done with me…" she whimpered.
"Ruth, I never erased you," he whispered. Her tanned hand met his face again, in anger. He cringed at the contact, feeling the burn of impact.
"Don't lie to me, Brewer! I was nothing more than a sister to you. I'm sure you thought that having a baby with another woman would give you the opportunity to escape. Not that you had to run from very much. At the time, the feelings were sitting on my heart alone, begging to be shared with you. You thought that this would give you an easy way out!" Ruthie had now used up every bit of her remaining strength in that last accusation. Nothing more than a dissolved crying mess, she dragged herself across the bed, throwing up the blankets to cover her shivering body.
Martin, completely at a loss for words, just sat there, watching a usually very composed Ruthie, crumble under the pressure. Not exactly sure what his next move would be, he inched his way towards her, quietly letting himself curl in next to her. He could feel her tense for just a second before throwing her head into the safety of his chest, her struggle to keep an even breath more than evident with the cascading of tears.
"I'm sorry, Roo. So, so sorry," he whispered, his thumb coming up to catch the tears she cried as they fell into the palm of his hand.
"You….you couldn't wait for me," she whispered.
"If I could just go back in time… If I could turn back the clock and change it, I would. I'd erase it all in a heartbeat," he said gently. "I can't, sweetheart. As much as it pains me to say this, I can't. We're just going to have to deal with what is," he said kissing her temple softly.
"He's my baby, Martin. Aaron's my little boy," she said weakly.
"I know," he sighed. Feeling her tremble violently against him, all Martin could do, was hold her. Kissing her temple gently, he let her forehead rest against neck. His fingers threaded through her deep defined curls as a deep shiver helped her relax. "I'm going to find someone who can start the paperwork," he whispered.
"No," she sighed. "That'll take months," she said, dipping a finger into the bowl that was just barely reachable. Slowly, she brought it to his shoulder, a light kiss absorbing the spot of sweetness. Martin could feel her smile as she kissed the remainder of it away when he tensed.
"Ruth, you don't have to tease me to get your way," he said. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I love seeing you like this but, if you really feel this strongly about making it official, all you have to do is say so. If you want to wait a little while longer than just remember that even without the legalities, you are ten times the mother that she ever was. You're a Camden, Ruthie. Camdens love without limitations and you are no exception."
"I am," she sighed. "I know I was supposed to feel sorry for her when we found out she was pregnant. I know I was supposed to be supportive. I…I couldn't do it. I hate her with every bone in my body," she mumbled. "She's older. She's the one who's supposed to be more mature. She's supposed to know right from wrong. You were just a pawn in her need to get laid."
"It takes two, my love. It takes two people to decide what to make of any given situation. I'm just as much to blame as she is," he admitted, weaving his fingers through her closest hand, massaging her knuckle with his thumb. Ruthie sighed, tired of arguing with him. Her last outburst had drained her of every bit of energy she had.
"Ma-ma," came quietly through the baby monitor. "Ma-ma!" Ruthie giggled hearing Martin groan next to her.
"I really don't wanna move," he whispered. She smiled, watching him pull himself up on one elbow. "I wish he was open to more than just us."
"Give him time," she said closing her eyes. "You know….The faster you move, the sooner you can get back," se winked. Martin just rolled his eyes, offering her a deep kiss before reluctantly pulling away.
"I think round three will have to wait until we're alone," he said. "The last think I need is to know that more than Kevin knows of our...activities. The fact that he's the only one who knows really scares me."
"Alright. Hurry back. I wanna be with my baby," she smiled. Martin nodded, tying a towel firmly around his waist. "You might wanna make sure that al the evidence is gone before you leave the room," she warned. "I would help you do that but….It might lead to…" Shaking his head, Martin checked for any remains of their sugary snacks.
"All clear, "he said backing out of the room. "I just hope I don't run into anyone on the way there." Hearing a second cry he cringed. It took him until now to remember that Simon could very well be in there too. "I'm a dead man…" he said quietly.
"Run fast!" she laughed. Martin nodded, already off in a hurry. When he finally reached the nursery, fear gripped him. Just as he thought, Simon was sitting in the rocking chair, just on the edge of sleep. Maybe if I run fast enough, he won't even see that I'm here he thought.
"Mama!" he cried sharply. Martin cringed a little before looking over the crib. With tears coming down hard and fast, his jaw came down hard on the fist he had stuck in his mouth. He sighed heavily, coming over to take his hand out. The muffled cry became a full on wail now. "NO!" he shouted, taking it back quickly.
"Aaron, that's what the teething ring is for," he said, knowing that the reminder wasn't going to be understood. Again his attempt to take it away angered him. "Here. I'll trade you your hand for my finger," he decided.
"There's no reasoning with that kid," Simon laughed. "He wants what he wants and no one's gonna tell him otherwise. I was already here when he started waking up. The feisty little guy wouldn't let me touch him. Whoever taught him the word "no" has done a darn good job."
"Just like his mother," Martin groaned. "Come 'ere you little monster," he sighed, finally seeing an opening to take him out. Aaron's little body shivered with relief as he laid his head on his father's shoulder, taking him up on the trade. "You're going to need a new diaper on you," he said. "And maybe a bath…" He could feel a small tongue lapping at his shoulder and raised a brow in curiosity. "Why are you licking me?" he asked.
"You came in smelling like chocolate, Martin," Simon supplied. "He probably found some of it. My question is why? Why are you wafting the smell of chocolate all over this room?" Martin looked over at him like a deer in the headlights. "Do I smell…strawberries, too?" he asked with a knit brow.
"Simon, I…"
"You and Ruthie had a real good time in there, didn't you?" he started. "You smell different, Brewer."
"Yeah I know," he sighed. "We got a little carried away with the chocolate fondue. It was all your sister's idea."
"No, it's more than sugar and fruit. You…you smell like…Why do you smell like sex?" Simon asked, the question coming out with an edge. As Martin expected, his face grew hard, anger clear in his expression. "Tell me Martin. Before I have to force it out of you," he threatened his voice low.
"Earlier today," he started. "I cleared it with Dad the night she came home. Like you said, there's no fighting her. What Ruthie wants, she gets."
"Martin, she's seventeen! She's got a second chance at love, just got back from being kidnapped by a psycho, and has been thrown into motherhood. Ruthie's not exactly thinking like she normally does right now." Simon pointed out. He froze for a minute staring him right in the eye. "You cleared what with Dad?" he asked slowly. Martin sighed, not exactly sure where to start with Ruthie's most devoted bodyguard. There was a chance that he wouldn't believe him. On the other hand, he could believe him and want him dead anyway.
"The night she came home, I pleaded my case. I couldn't fight her anymore, Simon. That twenty-four hour window without her…I don't know how I even survived. The night before, she asked me how long it would be before we could give ourselves over completely. I…I told her to wait. I told her to wait until I was ready to…Until I was ready to cause her that kind of pain. That was the same night that she went missing. I went over every single scenario in my head. What if I lost her? What if I lost her to a psychotic creep who could do anything he wanted with her? What if she came home raped and beaten? What if he'd drugged her and she had no idea who any of us were? Worst of all, what if Ruthie came home…"
"Dead," Simon whispered. "I was a cowered last night. When someone told me my baby sister went missing…I just ran. I locked myself in a corner, flashes of the accident playing themselves over and over in my head."
"You had nothing to do with Ruthie being…" Martin couldn't muster up the strength to say it.
"I went away to college. If I would have just stayed here…If I had stayed closer to home, I could have kept her from seeing him. I wasn't strong enough to go back to school after the accident. Glen Oak is way too small to keep something like that hidden. The fact that I'm the minister's son painted an even bigger target on my back. I ran away from my problems and because of that, Ruthie's covered in bruises and broken bones," he whispered.
"You can't keep blaming yourself, Simon. What's done is done. It's in the past. All you can do is try your best to move on. The accident hasn't changed you. It's just added to who you are. Who you are is Ruthie's older brother. I don't fault you for wanting to pound me. I just hope you understand why."
"I do. More than anyone, I do understand, You have to live every moment and make it count for something. Anyone can see how much you love my sister, Martin. I just…I still see her as the four year old roommate who used to drive me up the wall," he whispered.
"She still does," he pointed out. Simon smiled and chuckled to himself.
"I love them all so much but Ruthie…Ruthie's different. I felt like she was my responsibility. Now, I have to accept the fact that she's an adult. I have to accept the fact that, she's growing up, that she's in love."
"No matter how old she gets, Simon, she's still going to need you," Martin said. "I know that sharing her with anyone outside of this family is new to you."
"I'm not," he said. "You're just as much a part of this family as I am. We have a strange way of adding branches to the family tree," he laughed. "I'm just not very good at sharing…" he admitted.
"Neither am I. While I was still living here, I mentally kicked every one of her potential boy toys out the door. I loved that it worked in reality too," he laughed.
"See, that's why I like you over every one of them. You didn't come in with the idea of dating her. For a while, you were just like me and Matt. You protected her just as much as I did. I guess I have to come to terms with the fact that you're not her brother anymore. I have to accept reality. The truth is that Ruthie chose you. Even after everything you've put her through, she chose you."
"That's what she told me," Martin said. "She said that the only reason you all like me so much is because I filled a family role first. I wasn't expecting to fall for her, Simon. Like everything else, things just happen."
"The best of them happen when we least expect it," he said. "Can you do me a favor, Martin?" He felt himself taking in a nice deep breath and nodded. "Protect her just as you did when you lived here. Love her like she deserves to be loved. I know I'm not that easy to deal with. I shouldn't be slamming you for caring about her as much as you do," he said.
"Simon, don't be defending your protective nature. The two of you are close. You're not hard to deal with. Ruthie and I just keep breaking the rules. We break them but we think long and hard before we do."
"She was always a rebel," Simon laughed. "As they say, things come in threes. Mary was hardcore, I was a griever, but Ruthie's a thinker. She doesn't just go off and do something for the fun of it. I guess I'm just a little bit disappointed. Disappointed that, current situation won't let her wait." Martin looked at him curiously. "Okay, so I didn't exactly wait either. None of us did really. "
"Not even Lucy?" he asked.
"I think she was the only one who did," he said. "It's that stubborn streak with Camden women. I think she wanted to prove to us that she wasn't anything like Mary. At least, in terms of her love life anyway."
"I didn't just do it for kicks, Simon. This is the real thing. The only thing that needs to make it more permanent than it already is, is putting a ring on her finger."
"Something tells me it won't be too long before you do that too," he said. Simon had a point. The only thing really stopping him was the need to get permission from Eric. Permission he knew he'd get even if he didn't ask. "I can see it in your face, Martin."
"Is it really that obvious?" he sighed.
"A little," he laughed. "You do know that none of us are going to stop you, right? You've proven yourself to be everything she needs."
"I wouldn't be wanting it this badly if it weren't for Aaron," Martin said. Simon just laughed with a shake of his head. "He needs something solid and she's gone above and beyond to give him that."
"You would want it whether Aaron was here or not," he said. Martin ducked, a rosy blush painting his cheeks. "Just do it, Martin. Tie the knot and stop these games. You all need something solid."
"I want to make sure it's okay with, Dad first," he said. "I need to find myself a lawyer too. Ruthie's terrified that Sandy could come in and take him from her. She keeps telling me that she doesn't need the official documentation but I just want all of it to be over with. I don't want to risk Sandy coming in here and pretending to care when we all know she doesn't. Ruthie does and she deserves to have it be made official."
"I'll get you in touch with the guy who finalized Luke's adoption." Simon laughed loudly. He realized it was more by himself than with Martin seeing as he hadn't heard all of Mary's wonderful stories. Bernie the attorney. One of the many times they all came together to protect her from their parents.
"What?"
"Bernie," Simon said. Martin just stared at him, clearly confused.
"Have Matt tell you the story," was all he said before leaving the room.
"Hey Simon. "
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Just don't go leaving evidence in every corner of the house. Speaking of which, I suggest you take a shower before Mom finds out what you two have been up to."
"Mama," he whimpered, again sticking his fist in his mouth. Martin nodded, reminded of why he'd come in to begin with.
"I need to get you changed first," he said, making his way to the changing table. "You know what? I'm just going to have you take a bath," he decided. "I'm just gonna tell Mommy so I don't get in trouble."
Ran into Simon in the nursery. Had a nice long talk. I still have all my body parts :) He needs a bath so we'll be over in a bit.
"Alright big guy, let's go freshen up,"
"Mama," he whimpered, his bottom lip pulled out. Laying him on a towel, Martin tickled his feet lightly. His reward was a short giggle and light kick to his stomach. Martin smiled, again reminded of how much this little person meant to him. Aaron was a daily reminder of the simple things. It never took much to please him. All he needed was to be surrounded by the people who loved him and he was happy. A lesson he himself was quickly learning. "'ove Da," he said softly.
"I love you too, little man," he whispered. "We're going to get ourselves nice and clean for Mommy. Can you cooperate with me for a bit?" His pointer ran along his back unleashing a full belly laugh. "You're just ticklish in every corner of your body, aren't you?" he laughed. Aaron giggled, sending a deep splash directly at his father's face. He sighed, a sense of relief washing over him. For the next ten minutes he allowed himself to pull away from every stress, every thought. His priority for this little block of time was to live in the now, to take in every bit of simplicity his son offered him.
"You are by far, the best thing that's ever happened to me," he whispered. "You and your mama." Again he sent up a solid splash letting his laugh echo throughout the bathroom. Knowing this wouldn't be the last of his premature showers, he was glad he'd come in without a shirt on. Ten minutes quickly turned to twenty as he watched Aaron keep himself entertained with only the water he sat in.
He sighed, not at all ready to accept, that like everything else, innocence like this was temporary. By now, Aaron was perfectly clean. Martin had just decided to watch him. Watch him sit unaware of struggle, unaware of any pain.
"You have no idea what the real world is, do you?" he sighed. Looking up in fascination as his mouth formed words he didn't understand, Aaron just smiled. "Stay like that," he mumbled. "Just like that. Please."
"Da up!" Pulling himself up off the floor, Martin obliged. Letting the water drain he quickly dressed and changed him before making his way back to the bedroom. Noticing she'd fallen back asleep, he pulled away from the door frame. But not long before Aaron noticed her announcing what he'd seen. "Mama!"
"Shh, she's asleep," he warned.
"Not anymore," she mumbled. As much as he hated to be the reason she was awake again, he smiled. "Well hello there my beautiful boy, she greeted, a wide smile gracing her face. "Ooh, somebody's all clean," she noticed.
"I'll be back in a bit," he said, kissing her long and hard before pulling back. "Someone insisted on spending twenty minutes in the tub, just giving me little mini showers," he smiled, sending a playful glare in his son's direction. Ruthie nodded, her nose wrinkling playfully.
"Daddy really is stinky," she laughed.
"You weren't saying that a few minutes ago," he whispered huskily. She only smirked quickly shooing him away. As he backed away, Martin couldn't wipe what seemed to feel like a permanent smile off his face. Everything about right now was perfect. Ruthie was alive, and for the most part, unharmed. His son was happy and everyone in the nuthouse was still remotely sane.
He stopped short of the bathroom door, his gut beginning to eat away at him. Now, he knew what Ruthie meant by uncertainty. Something told him that although things for the time being were returning back to normal, their struggles were far from over.
"Live in the now," he reminded himself. The question blaring in his head remained. How long was "now"?
A/N: As usual, let me know how it went! Like every other chapter written for this story, it just kind of took over. Now that I've gotten back into the swing of things, I'll try my hardest to make sure updates are more frequent.