"Hey, Jude? Jude … Jude. Jude!"
Connor looked at Jude, who was curled up in the armchair. He had headphones in because Connor had been on the phone with his boss scheduling meetings for the rest of November. Now, though, Connor had hung up the phone and he needed to ask Jude something.
"Jude."
No response.
Connor pushed himself out of his office chair and took the few steps over to the armchair. Jude didn't move as he approached; he was completely absorbed in the forensics show that he was watching. Connor placed his hands on Jude's shoulders and Jude jumped at the touch. He sucked in a deep breath and ripped his earbuds from his ears.
"Connor! You scared me!"
"It's not my fault you can't hear over those headphones."
Jude rolled his eyes. "Are you done with the phone?"
"I'm done with the phone," Connor confirmed. "I'm hungry. I'm going to go make a sandwich."
"I want one too."
"Then come keep me company."
Connor had just pulled Jude up from the armchair when the phone started ringing. Jude grabbed the landline that sat on the end of Connor's desk and answered it.
"Hello?"
Connor watched Jude's face as whoever it was on the other end spoke.
"It's Coach Roberto," Jude mouthed at Connor before returning his attention to the phone. "What's going on, Coach?"
Connor frowned and checked his cell phone clock. School had let out for Mikey barely ten minutes ago. He should be having fun at soccer right now. Unless something had happened to him. Connor stared at Jude's face, watching as Jude's face went from one of shock to concern.
"Mikey did what?! No, I … have no idea what's going on. We'll be right in, Coach, I'm sorry … Yeah, see you soon." Jude put the phone down with a smack. "We have to go."
Connor hustled down the stairs after Jude. "What's going on?"
"Mikey attacked Chris and JP."
"He what!?"
Jude shoved his feet into his sneakers. "You drive."
"Okay." Connor snatched the keys from the front door hook. "So, what did Coach say happened?"
"He didn't know," Jude said. They got into the car to start driving and Jude continued. "Coach said that everything went normally. They were all out on the field, Mikey asked to play goalie, so Coach let him. He said he was organizing the other kids and the three of them went over to the goal like always. He looked up when he heard yelling. He said Mikey was going after JP and Chris. He said that Mikey got a few hard hits in before he pried them apart."
"But why?" Connor asked, signalling into the school's parking lot.
"I don't know."
"They're his best friends."
"That I know," Jude said.
They pulled up next to the soccer field. It was easy to pick out Mikey, who was sulking on the bench behind Coach. JP and Chris were already tucked under Andrew's arms on a bench down the field from Mikey. Jude and Connor got out of their car and quickly walked down the field. Mikey looked up and when he saw them, a scowl crossed his face. He crossed his skinny arms over his chest and looked away from everyone.
Coach met them at the edge of the field.
"What happened?" Connor asked before Coach could say anything.
Coach shrugged. "I asked Mikey why, but he won't talk to me. Chris and JP wouldn't tell me what was going on either. They were just talking and messing around like they always were. It didn't look like anything was going on."
Connor looked at Mikey, who hadn't moved an inch. "It's not like him."
"I know," Coach said.
"Jude! Connor!"
The two looked up as Andrew approached, looking concerned as any father would.
"I thought you said that the sleepover went fine," Andrew said, his voice heated.
"It did. Mikey was happy on Sunday. He didn't want them to leave," Jude recalled.
"And they were obviously fine at school yesterday," Connor pointed out.
Coach nodded. "I saw them first thing. No troubles at all."
"Did Chris and JP say anything about what had happened?" Connor asked.
Andrew looked back at his sons, who were debating heavily between themselves. The expressions on their young faces were that of two much older people. JP's face was set sternly, though Chris kept glancing over at Mikey, before bending his head and shifting closer to his twin.
"Not really. They said that they couldn't tell."
"Couldn't tell?" Jude repeated.
"They said it would be mean to Mikey. Which doesn't make sense. Because Mikey hit them. Not the other way around."
"We haven't talked to him yet," Connor said. "I don't know what it is, though. He … he wasn't any different yesterday or this morning."
"I'm going to take them home, now," Andrew said. "Until we get this figured out, though, I don't want them hanging out with Mikey. If he's going to be violent toward them, I can't stand for that."
"Let's not turn it into something bigger than it is until we know for sure," Connor said quickly. "We'll talk to him, you talk to them, and we'll call when we figure something out.""
"Yeah," Andrew murmured. "I'll talk to you later, then."
"Bye."
Andrew walked off and Coach drew a breath.
"I know he loves soccer, but it's best if you take him home now," Coach suggested.
"Probably," Jude agreed. "Sorry about this, Coach."
"I just hope everyone's okay."
"We'll see," Connor said under his breath.
They approached Mikey, who turned more and more rigid the closer that they got.
"It's time to go home," Connor said. "We'll talk about this when we get there."
"I don't want to talk to you about anything," Mikey said.
"Mi –" Connor started, but he cut himself off.
Mikey had thrown himself from the bench and was racing up the hill to where their car was parked. He opened the car door himself and climbed in. Connor looked to Jude, but Jude was shaking his head.
"I have no idea."
They had just driven out of the school parking lot, when Jude turned around in the passenger seat to face Mikey.
"Are you okay?"
"You don't care."
Jude deflated against the passenger seat. "I do, Mikey. You're all I care about."
Mikey didn't respond to that. He just stared out the window. After a while, Jude turned back around to face out the front windshield. It wasn't long before they were pulling back into their driveway. Jude kept pace with Mikey as the six-year-old marched himself to the front door. Once they were all inside, Connor and Jude herded Mikey into the living room.
"You have to talk to us," Connor said.
"No!"
"What happened?" Jude crouched in front of him. "This isn't like you."
Mikey stepped backward, away from him.
"Chris and JP are your best friends," Connor said.
"They're liars!" Mikey shouted. "And I hate them."
"What did they lie about?" Jude asked.
Mikey was furious, but silent. His freckled face went bright red as he sucked in a breath and held it.
"Hate's a strong word," Connor added.
"I hate you too. You're a liar!" Mikey yelled. "You and Father. I hate you!"
"We don't mean to lie to you," Jude said soothingly. "What's going on? We'll tell you the truth now. I promise."
"I hate you! I hate you!" Mikey yelled, but he was staring beyond Jude, at Connor. "I hate you most!"
"What did I do?" Connor asked.
"Why did you come back?" Mikey cried. "I want you to go away!"
"Mikey," Jude murmured. "That's not fair. What's going on?"
"Chris told JP that he saw Dad kiss you!" Mikey shrieked. "But you only kiss people you love and you said you don't love each other anymore! You said it!"
"Mikey," Jude said, reaching out toward him, but Mikey hit his hand away.
"NO! I hate you! I hate everyone!"
With that, he tore from the room and thundered up the stars. Jude and Connor heard them door slam behind him. Jude collapsed to his knees on the floor and Connor dropped down next to him.
"What do we do?" Jude whispered. "How could we do that to him?"
"It's not like we meant to hurt him," Connor said quickly. "But what do we say to him now?"
"I don't know. I don't know what to do at all." Jude closed his eyes.
Connor reached out to put his arm around Jude's shoulders, but Jude shifted away from him. Connor let his arm fall back to his side.
"We can't leave him alone. We can't." Jude stood up.
Connor followed suit. "It's okay, Jude."
"It's not," Jude replied stonily.
He walked up the stairs, leaving Connor to trail in his wake. They stood in the hall as Jude knocked on Mikey's door.
"Go away!"
"We just want to talk to you. Let us explain what Chris saw, okay? We didn't mean to hurt you or confuse you, we promise."
"Go away!"
"Hiding away won't solve anything," Connor said. "We want to talk to you. We want to know what you're thinking as much as we want you to know what we're thinking."
"I hate you," Mikey yelled. "Go away!"
Connor looked helplessly at Jude, who shrugged back.
"I'm sorry," Jude apologized.
"Make Dad leave," Mikey ordered.
Connor sat down on the top stair, his eyes never leaving Jude. Jude turned his back on Connor and leant against the wall, his head by Mikey's door.
"It wouldn't be fair to do that without talking about everything first," Jude said. "Can we come in?"
"I want Dad to go away."
Jude glanced at Connor briefly and Connor's heart started beating rapidly.
"What if I just came in?" Jude proposed. "Just you and me?"
Connor started indignantly. Mikey was his son too. He needed to be a part of this as much as Jude needed to.
"No Dad."
"I'm sorry," Jude whispered. "As soon as I can get him to let you in, I will."
"I'm staying here," Connor said, making himself comfortable on the steps.
Jude nodded, and then he let himself into Mikey's room. He left the door ajar so that Connor would be able to hear what was going on, and Connor shifted so that he could the little sliver of the room that was left exposed. He saw the very edge of Mikey's shoulder as the little boy was curled up on his bed.
"Hey," Jude said. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm mad," Mikey said.
"Can I sit on the bed with you?"
Mikey didn't say anything, but Jude sat at the very end of the bed.
"Do you want to tell me what happened at soccer today?"
Mikey sighed.
"Please? I can't help if I don't know exactly what's going on."
"JP and Chris and me were at the net. And … and JP said he had to tell me something. Something that Chris saw. 'Cause on Saturday, when we were eating our pudding, Chris needed another napkin. So he went upstairs. And then he came back. And JP said when he went upstairs, he saw you and Dad kiss in the kitchen. But I knew they were lying. And only mean people lie."
"Did you hit them?"
"Yeah. Because they were lying!"
"That's no reason to hit someone. And … JP and Chris didn't lie to you, Mikey."
"W-what do you mean?"
"Dad did kiss me."
"You said you weren't going to be married anymore!"
On the step, Connor held his breath. Was Jude going to tell Mikey the truth? If he was, Connor deserved to be there. This wasn't news that Jude should have to figure out how to deliver alone. Connor didn't think that Mikey would take it well, if only because it was confusing; if only because it would take time to understand.
"I know."
"Are you lying about that?!"
"No, we weren't lying when we said that. Sit down, please. This is going to get a little complicated, okay?"
There was silence, before Connor heard the thump of his son sitting down on the mattress. "Okay, Father."
"Feelings are hard. And I know you know that."
"Uh-huh."
"Sometimes feelings can look like one thing but not another thing. Dad kissed me but it wasn't a kiss like we were still married. It was just something … friendly. Just like a hug."
"I don't get it."
"It wasn't a big kiss. We weren't lying when we said that we were getting a divorce."
"Were you lying when you said he would go back to his apartment?"
"No."
"Then I want him to go now."
"Mikey, he's your dad."
"I don't want him here."
"Why?"
"He makes things confusing. I hate him."
"Shh, hate's a big word. You might not like him right now. And it's okay to not like either of us sometimes. Parents are people too and we don't always get it right. You're allowed to yell and scream if you need to. We just want you to be able to tell us what's on your mind."
"I want Dad to go away."
Outside on the step, Connor hung his head so low that it almost touched his knees. His poor son. But Connor couldn't leave. It would be better for Mikey, in the long run, to have him say, as confusing and hurtful that it might be right now. Connor wasn't going to give into the whims of a six-year-old and give up his family. It tore him apart on the inside to hear Mikey say that he hated him, though; it killed him that Mikey wanted him to go away. He knew that both of those phrases were characteristic of raising a kid, and that he would likely have to hear them at least once throughout Mikey's life, but he had expected them to first rise during a petty argument when Mikey was a teenager. Not now; not when Connor was actually doing something that was causing his son pain and anxiety. Connor had never expected to do that to his son at all.
"I don't think that would be fair," Jude said.
"Why not? It's my house. Not his house. He has an apartment."
"He moved back in for a reason, remember?"
"You're sick," Mikey whispered, as if it were a new realization. "Am I making you sicker, Father?"
"No, no, of course you're not. I don't want it to feel like I'm not listening to you, Mikey. I can see why you'd be mad and confused right now and I understand why you'd want him to move out. I'd like Dad to stay for a while more because it's better for you."
"He makes things confusing," Mikey repeated.
"It's hard because we got used to not having him here. But it was hard when he wasn't here, wasn't it?"
"Because you were sick."
"And I'm still sick. And that's why, okay? I still need to take my medicine and I still need Dad here to help me do things because I don't always feel good enough to do it."
"Do you still love him, Father?"
"I'll always care about your dad, Mikey. We were friends and we cared about each other for a long time. We're trying to be friends again."
"That's not an answer."
Connor saw Jude kiss Mikey's forehead.
"I love you and that's all that matters."
"I love you too, Father."
"Do you want to talk to your dad?"
"Do I have to?"
"No," Jude said. "I'm never going to make you. But it might make you feel better."
"I don't want to."
"That's okay."
"Will you stay in here with me?"
"Of course."
Connor sat on the steps, waiting, even as Mikey and Jude moved out of sight; even as Jude began to read to Mikey. When it got late enough, Connor went downstairs and made dinner. It wasn't anything fancy, but when it was done, he went upstairs and knocked on the door.
"I made supper."
"I don't want to go downstairs," Mikey said to Jude. "Please, can I eat in my room tonight?"
"You know that rooms aren't for eating."
"I don't want to see him," Mikey said.
"Can I ask you something, Mikey?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why are you so mad at him but not so mad at me?"
Connor leant against the wall. He'd been waiting for that question. Why was Jude allowed to sit with Mikey and comfort him when Connor got all the blame?
"He left. Chris saw him kiss you. You love me more."
"That's not true at all. We both love you with everything that we have. Neither of us loves you more."
Connor bit down on his lower lip to keep from saying something. How had he gone this wrong?
"I love Dad," Mikey said.
"And Dad loves you, very much," Jude assured him. "He understands that things are hard right now. I promise you he does. He doesn't want to hurt you either."
"I don't want to talk to him."
"Neither of us is going to make you. But let's go sit at the table, okay? You don't have to say a word. You just have to sit there and eat."
"Okay."
Connor stepped back as the door opened. Mikey walked right past him, dragging Jude behind him. As they descended the stairs, Jude looked at Connor to mouth 'I'm sorry'. Connor just shrugged. It wasn't Jude's fault. Not just Jude's fault, anyway. Things were messy and complicated and everyone had a hand in it. There was no one to blame.
Mikey didn't eat much. He picked at his food, even as Jude made comments that it was good and thanked Connor for making it.
"Would you like more juice?" Connor asked, noticing that his son's glass had gotten low.
Mikey didn't look like he was going to answer him, but then he glanced at Jude. "No, thanks."
Connor went silent. When dinner was finished and Jude couldn't convince Mikey to eat anymore, the little boy begged off to his room again.
"Sure," Jude agreed after exchanging a glance with Connor.
"Will you come with me, Father? I want to read more of my book."
"I'm going to help Dad clean up dinner and then I'll come upstairs with you, okay?"
Mikey hesitated. He whispered, "Just you?"
"Sure, Mikey," Jude agreed again. "If that's what you want."
Mikey skipped up the stairs after a lingering look at Connor. Once the little boy was out of the room, Jude's and Connor's parental faces fell away.
"I'm so sorry, Connor."
"What did I do wrong?"
"It's not you, it's really not. I just don't know what to say to him. I don't know how to handle this. I thought that, after the separation, I got good with the hard questions. But I still don't know what to say to him."
"You're doing the best that you can," Connor assured him. "There's nothing that I would have done differently."
"Really?"
"Really." Connor reached out and rubbed Jude's shoulder. "I just wish he'd talk to me."
"We have to give him his space. We can't force him to do anything. He'd only hate us more."
"Hate me more. He seems okay with you."
Jude shrugged. "I don't know if he really is."
"What do you mean?"
"I just feel like the lesser of two evils right now because you moved out and I didn't. That's making a big difference to him."
"That makes sense."
Jude sighed and ran his hands roughly through his hair. "I just want him to be okay."
"He will be." Connor toyed with the end of his fork. "Do you think I should try to go talk to him?"
"He seems really … uncomfortable with that idea right now."
"I don't want him to go to sleep hating me. I won't push. I just want to talk through the door and see if he talks back. He's my son too."
Jude nodded. "Why don't you try? I'll put the dishes in the dishwasher. Give you some time alone with him."
"Thanks."
Connor left Jude at the dining room table and walked up the stairs. Mikey's door was tightly shut so he knocked on it lightly.
"Come in, Father."
"It's Dad," Connor corrected.
"Go away."
"I just want to talk to you. You don't have to say anything. Just listen."
Mikey didn't respond. Connor didn't know if Mikey was following instructions or just flat out ignoring him.
"I'm sorry that we upset you and confused you. I'm sorry that Chris had to see what happened. Mikey, Father and I weren't lying to you when we told you that we were getting a divorce. That kiss doesn't mean that everything is going to go back to the way that it was before I moved out."
He didn't know what to say. Connor didn't want to keep repeating Jude but he didn't know how to properly add onto it without knowing what was going through Mikey's head.
"Is there anything that you want to ask me?" Connor offered. "Anything at all that you want to know? Just say the words and I'll tell you everything, I promise."
"Go away!"
"I'm sorry, Mikey."
He shook his head as Jude walked up the stairs, looking at him questioningly. Jude knocked on the door.
"Mikey? It's Father."
"I don't care."
Jude turned his head to look at Connor. "What happened?" he whispered.
"Nothing!" Connor mouthed back.
"You knew I didn't want to talk to him!" Mikey yelled.
"He's allowed to talk to you, Mikey. We care about you. Dad was just trying to make sure that you were okay. We both just want to help you."
"I want to be alone."
"We're going to be in the office if you want to come talk," Jude said.
Connor led the way into the office. He turned to say something to Jude, but Jude just shook his head. Connor didn't know what to do with that, so he took a seat at his desk while Jude curled up in the armchair. He fiddled with files and tried to make himself concentrate on work so that he could get ahead, but he kept thinking about Mikey, cooped up in his room next door. Jude had opened his laptop, but he didn't seem to be doing anything on it. They were both listening to see if they could hear anything from Mikey. No noise came and, eventually, Jude sat up.
"It's his bedtime."
"I think that I should stay here."
"Probably the best," Jude agreed, and they both sounded regretful about it. He went over to Mikey's room and knocked. "Mikey, it's time for bed."
The door opened with a smash.
"Careful with the door," Jude said. "You don't need to throw things around."
"Don't tell me what to do!"
"I know you're mad, Mikey, but I'm still your father and you're still my son. Being upset isn't an excuse to be rude or disrespectful or to hit people."
"Being sick is no reason to do whatever you want!"
"Michael!" Connor snapped from the office.
Connor stood up. He knew that Mikey didn't understand the full scope of what was wrong with Jude; there was no way that he could. Still, Connor couldn't bear to see Mikey blame anything on Jude's illness. Jude was sick. He did as best as he could while he was sick, and Connor could acknowledge, with his perspective, that Jude had managed to do a hell of a lot with his depression; it was more than Connor thought that he would be able to manage, if their situations were reversed.
"It's not!" Mikey shouted, spinning to face Connor as Connor walked out into the hall.
"Your father is very sick."
"Which isn't the point here, right now," Jude interrupted. "Mikey understands that something's wrong. He's just frustrated and that's okay."
"I hate hearing that! Nothing's been okay since forever," Mikey shouted. "I hate you! I wish I had different parents! Parents who weren't liars and who never got sick!"
Connor watched as Jude's face crumbled.
"You don't mean that," Connor murmured.
"Yes, I do! I wish someone else had adopted me! You're confusing and I hate it! I want you to give me away! I don't want to keep you!" he screamed at Connor.
Connor reached for him, but Mikey darted away, back into his room. He slammed his door shut with a bang that made Jude jump. Jude reached out for the door. He wrapped his hand around the knob and pressed his forehead to the wood.
"Mikey," Jude called. "Please talk to us."
Nothing.
Connor held his breath as Jude knocked again, willing Mikey to open the door. His heart swelled into his throat in the silent seconds. Jude wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.
"Mikey, this isn't okay. I'm going to come in."
"No!"
Jude began to shake and Connor reached out, steering him away from the door.
"No," Jude protested. "I – He – I …"
"You need to go sit down and breathe," Connor said in a low voice. "I'll go in and get him ready for bed. He's already angriest at me."
Jude glanced at the door. "I … I."
"Office," Connor said.
He didn't think that Jude was going to listen to him, but then Jude stumbled his way into the other room, tears leaking down his cheeks.
"Mikey," Connor said, knocking on the door like Jude has just done. "I'm coming in now."
"No!"
Connor opened the door anyway. Mikey was sitting on the bed, glaring at him.
"I know you're angry. But we're your parents. And we love you. And we know that you love us."
"No, I don't. You're liars."
Connor pulled a set of pyjamas out of Mikey's dresser and placed them on the bed.
"We've been as honest as we can with you," Connor said.
"I hate you."
"We've heard. But right now you're hurt and you're lashing out. Just because you're hurt and angry doesn't mean that you get to hurt others. Put your PJs on and go brush your teeth."
Silently, Mikey did as he was asked, then he climbed into bed.
"Things will look different in the morning," Connor promised. "Father and I will be in his room if you need anything. I love you."
"I don't care." Mikey turned over to face the wall.
Connor didn't have anything else to say to that. He let himself out of Mikey's room, leaving the door ajar, and he went to fetch Jude. Connor felt his own exterior begin to crumble as he saw Jude's worn face. He reached down to his husband and pulled him to his feet.
"Come on," he said. "Back to our room. I don't want to bother Mikey."
Jude leant heavily on him, and once Connor had closed the bedroom door behind the two of them, Jude completely burst into tears.
"How could we do that to him?"
"I don't know." Connor buried his head in Jude's shoulder, his tears already wetting Jude's shirt. This had been one of the hardest afternoons of his life, including the first one that he had spent alone at his apartment. "We didn't mean to do that to him."
"We're going to keep doing that to him. What's he going to do if he ever finds us kissing? Or if we do tell him that we're not getting a divorce? He'll find out we have been lying to him this entire time."
"We haven't," Connor argued, taking a step back so that he could see Jude's face. He collected both of Jude's hands in his own. "We're not sure of what's going on any more than he is. We've told him all that we've can."
"Have we?" Jude asked. "We called off the divorce legally already!"
"Emotionally we're still all over the place! I believe we'll do it and I believe we'll be together but, Jude, nothing is set in stone for us yet. We both know that."
"Think about how he's going to see it," Jude protested. "He's going to hate us even more. What kind of parents are we if we put him through that?"
"We're human. We're people. We can't be perfect, Jude."
"I can't." Jude closed his eyes, though tears still fell through his lashes. "I can't. How could we?"
"Can't what?"
Jude didn't answer.
Connor squeezed his hands. "Can't what, Jude?"
"Do this."
"Do what? Us? Yeah, it's going to hurt him. Us being together, us being apart, us being confused, nothing is perfect. He's going to get even more confused when we tell him that there's no divorce and I'm never going back to my apartment. But in the long run, a little bit of confusion is going to be nothing compared to getting to grow up with us in the same house."
"He's hurt."
"It's confusing! He's six!" Connor searched Jude's agonized face. "I know you love me."
"I love him."
"I know. I know you love us both. But what do you want to do, Jude? Put us on hold until he's old enough to understand? When's that going to be? When's he's fifteen? Sixteen? When he's eighteen and moved out of your house and into a college dorm!?"
Jude gaped at him breathlessly. "I don't know."
"Because I can't." It broke Connor's heart to say it.
"Can't what?" Jude asked.
"Can't … wait for you. Can't … spend my life being in love with you and waiting for you to decide that it's the right time to be in love with me. I want you. I want our family. I want to try and put this thing back together. I want you to want the same thing, Jude! Tell me you want the same thing!"
Jude ripped his hands away from Connor's. "Are you asking me to choose between you? Between my son and you? What kind of a person are you? Why are doing this?"
"Jude –" But that was all Connor managed.
Jude swept away from him, just as Mikey had been doing to the both of them all afternoon. He exiled himself to the master bathroom, shutting the bathroom door quietly so his son didn't hear the noise. Connor walked over to the bathroom door and tried the door. It was locked. Connor felt his heart skip a beat.
"Jude, I'm not trying to control you right now but you behind a locked door is worrying me."
There was no response. Connor sunk to his knees beside the door, listening closely. He could just hear Jude's breathing. He curled up next to the door.
"I'm going to be right here if you need anything. Right outside the door."
Connor sat back, curling his legs up toward as chest as best as he was able. He leant his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think. But that was hard. He was worried about Mikey; he was worried about Jude; he worried by himself. He worried about what tomorrow was going to look like. He hoped that Mikey would be better in the morning. At least, he hoped that they would be able to talk to him a little bit more clearly. He found himself thinking about Chris and JP; he hoped that the three boys would be able to work it out. He felt horrible that something he and Jude had done had caused such a rift, and thought that they should have called Andrew tonight. Tomorrow. They would do it tomorrow.
Connor rested his head against the wood of the door. He heard Jude shuffling around but it didn't sound like anything more than someone adjusting their position. He tried not worry. Connor sat on the floor, watching the hours tick by on the clock. After two had gone by, he knocked and called Jude's name, but he didn't hear anything back. They had nearly hit the third hour when Connor heard more noises from the bathroom. He straightened up but didn't have time to stand before Jude opened the bathroom door.
Connor stared up at his husband's red, puffy face and wondered if his looked the same. Jude held out his hands and they were cupped together, like he was cradling something between them. Connor frowned and mimicked the position, lifting his hands. Jude's face didn't move as he separated the sides of his hands and let what he was holding into Connor's. The tiny razors blades clinked together as they fell into Connor's palms.
"Jude." Connor was going to throw up.
Jude walked by him without a word; without any indication that Connor was sitting there at all. Connor stared down at the metal slivers in his hand, hating himself and everything that was going on as he tried to figure it if any of their slick edges had dried blood on them. But it didn't matter. Connor threw them into the bathroom garbage; he would take it out later. What was important was seeing Jude; it was seeing his skin and knowing that there were no new scars on it.
Jude had tucked himself into bed. He had the comforter drawn up around his chin and was lying on his scarred side. His eyes were closed, but Connor knew that he wasn't sleeping. He had spent too many years next to a sleeping Jude to be fooled. Connor crouched down next to the bed.
"I know you're not sleeping. And I know you might not want to talk to me right now. But you asked me to come back to make sure that you were okay and I need to do that now. I need to know if you hurt yourself, Jude."
Against the pillow, Jude shook his head as best as he was able.
"Come on, Jude."
Jude kept his eyes closed and let Connor sit him up. Connor felt a little weirded out by Jude's non reaction, even as Connor began to lift his shirt. It was like dealing with Mikey when he had the flu and was too sick to change out of his gross clothes on his own. But it was also different. Because where Connor was allowed to help Mikey, and he knew that he was allowed to help Mikey, Jude was different.
"Can I take this off?" Connor asked, lowering the edge of Jude's shirt again.
Jude nodded.
Connor helped Jude out of his shirt, carefully inspecting each inch of his pale bare skin. There was nothing. Jude remained as malleable as a doll in Connor's hands and Connor grew more and more worried.
"I want to check your legs too."
Jude stood up and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. Connor's hands shook as he carefully looked at Jude's legs. There was nothing there, and Connor didn't really believe that Jude would cut where his underwear covered. He straightened up.
"I'm sorry. I know you're not totally comfortable," Connor apologized.
Jude just sat down on the edge of the bed. Connor fetched a pair of pyjama pants for him. Jude's eyes flashed open as Connor sat them on his lap. He looked dull and lifeless as he stood up and put them on and then put his t-shirt back on. As Jude went to lay back down in bed, Connor grabbed his hands by the wrists. Jude didn't move as Connor flipped them both over, palm sides up.
"Oh, Jude."
There were cuts all along the inside of his hands.
"I took it apart because I thought I was going to," Jude finally said, not looking at Connor. "And I sat there with them, but I couldn't let you down. So I just kept going like this."
He curled his fingers into his palms, squeezing his hands into fists as tightly as he could. When he opened his hands, there were small amounts of blood smeared across his hands and staining the few bandages that Jude had to keep around the worst of his left hand.
"Let me clean it up," Connor said, "Then we'll talk."
Jude looked forlorn as Connor stood. Connor hesitated over him for a moment and then he kissed his forehead. He went to the bathroom as quickly as possible, gathering up a damp washcloth, Band-Aids, the white bandages used for Jude's burns, and antiseptic cream. He returned to Jude, kneeling in front of him. Jude laid his hands out for Connor without prompting. Connor began to dab at and clean Jude's hands and Jude winced.
"I'm sorry. It probably stings."
"A little," Jude murmured.
"I'm proud of you for not doing it. I know that took a lot from you."
Jude didn't say anything, but his hands started shaking. Connor had to carefully align the bandages to cover the thin cuts.
"There, all done."
Connor went to stand but Jude reached out and wrapped his arms around him, capturing him in a hug. Connor eased up to sit on the bed, holding him back. They rocked back and forth, not willing to let go of the other. Connor ran his hands over Jude's back, trying to massage it as best as he could from the angle that he was at.
"I don't mean for you to choose between us, Jude."
"If you did, you knew it would be him."
"I would make sure it was him," Connor said. "For both of us. He's stuck with whatever choices we make."
"All of the choices are hard."
"I know. But we need to pick the one that is going to hurt less in the long one."
Jude nuzzled his head against Connor's collarbone. "Stay."
Connor tightened his arms around Jude, utterly relieved.
"I want us. I want this. I want our family in one piece. It's hard but I want to work for it. Don't go."
"Shh, I'm not going to go. I don't want to go."
Jude nodded. "Okay. Okay. He's going to hate us. Connor, I don't want him to hate us."
"He's not going to hate us." Connor thought about it, then amended, "Forever, anyway. He's six. It's going to be okay. You're just overreacting."
"I'm not –"
"And overthinking,"
Jude hugged him. "I'm sorry he's been picking on you. That's not right. Or fair."
"Well, now he hates us both, at least."
"You're not funny."
"Sorry. I'm sorry."
Jude kissed his cheek.
"I'm going to get ready for bed, okay? But I think we should sleep apart tonight, in case Mikey wakes up and needs us."
Jude nodded. "Okay."
"And it's late. We need to sleep."
"I don't want to. Can we watch TV for a while?"
Connor looked at his face. He ran his hand along the edge of Jude's jaw, feeling the itchy beginnings of stubble. Jude pressed his hands tightly to each side of Connor's waist.
"Please."
"Okay. But we're napping tomorrow."
"Thank you." Jude kissed his cheek again.
"Do you mind if I use this bathroom? I want Mikey to stay asleep."
"Go ahead. You can keep using it if you want. It's not like we have privacy."
"I know. But you have a little bit less than I do and I want to give you whatever space I can."
"I really don't mind."
"Okay."
Connor was in the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste, when he heard a screech from Mikey's room. He quickly spat into the sink and rushed out of the bathroom. The bedroom door was hanging open; Jude was already in Mikey's room. He was sitting on Mikey's bed and the skinny boy was sobbing into his shoulder.
"Hey," Connor said, sitting on the other side of them.
Mikey let out a loud cry. "Don't die. Don't die."
"No one's dying," Jude said.
Connor reached out and rubbed Mikey's back, feeling the bumps in his spine as he shook and cried.
"Bad dream?" Connor mouthed at Jude.
"I think so," Jude mouthed back.
"Everyone's safe. Everyone's okay," Connor soothed him. "We promise."
"I dreamt you were dead!"
"We're both right here." Jude kissed the top of his head. "We're safe and so are you."
"It was just a dream." Connor shifted closer so that his arms were around both Jude and Mikey. "It wasn't real."
Mikey was still shaking violently.
"It felt real," the boy whispered.
"It was a bad dream," Connor repeated.
"I don't want you to be dead," Mikey cried.
"We're not. See. There's my heartbeat." Jude pressed Mikey's hand to his chest. He picked up Mikey's other one and pressed it to Connor's. "And there's Dad's heartbeat."
"And there's yours," Connor added, letting his large hand splay over Mikey's chest.
Mikey kept shaking. He blinked up at Connor, his grey eyes filled with tears. Even his freckles seemed pale. It must have been one hell of a dream to make him that scared. Mikey snuggled up to Jude's chest but he reached out with his hands to cling to Connor's hand. Connor hugged the two of them even tighter.
"If I say I'm sorry," Mikey wailed, "Will you keep me?"
"We're were always going to keep you," Jude assured him.
"You're our son and we're your parents," Connor added. "You're stuck with us."
"Good. I don't hate you."
"We know. We know. It's okay, Mikey. We love you," Jude said.
Connor kissed the top of Mikey's head. "Lots and lots. More than you'll ever know."
Mikey nodded, though he still looked small and scared inside of Jude's long arms.
"It's been a long night," Jude said. "Let's get you tucked back into bed, okay? Dad and I will read you a story until you go back to sleep."
Mikey nodded and sat up. He went to crawl back to the bed, but Connor stopped him.
"Did you pee the bed?"
Jude was looking down at the damp spot on his pyjama bottoms. Mikey's bottom lip began to tremble.
"I'm sorry!"
"Oh, it's okay," Connor said. "It happens to everyone sometimes."
"We'll go to the bathroom and clean you up," Jude said, "while Dad changes your sheets, okay?"
Mikey nodded and hopped off the bed. Connor was already stripping off blankets as Jude grabbed new pyjamas for Mikey. Between the two of them, it didn't take long before Mikey was warm and dry in a clean bed, snuggling tightly between the two of them. There wasn't much room for two adult men and a skinny six-year-old in a single bed, but they didn't mind. As squished as they were, Mikey kept tugging them closer.
Connor picked up the book while Jude rested against Mikey. Mikey rested his head against Connor's arm as he started reading. It didn't take long to get him back to sleep; he was exhausted and emotionally drained. Connor read for a few minutes past when Mikey closed his eyes, just to be sure that he had gone back to sleep. With care, he placed the book on Mikey's nightstand and sat up, making sure that Mikey was laid down comfortable. He turned to look at Jude and smile; his husband was almost as asleep as their son.
"Come on," Connor said. "You can't stay in here all night."
"I know."
Jude sat up slowly, giving Mikey one last goodnight kiss as he went.
"Bed time," Connor said, closing their bedroom door behind them.
"Bed time," Jude echoed, tugging at Connor's arm. "He won't wake up again."
Connor crawled into his side of the bed, pulling the blanket high around their shoulders. He and Jude pressed closely together in the middle of the bed. Connor laid on his side and Jude curled around him.
"I'm going to put your arm to sleep," Connor noted.
He ran his fingers down the smooth skin of Jude's forearm; his arm was trapped underneath of Connor.
"Doesn't matter. I get to be close to you this way."
Connor smiled as he felt Jude's breath on the back of his neck. Then he ran his fingers up over Jude's wrist to his palm, feeling the edges of the Band-Aids. He pressed his hand flat against Jude's, locking their fingers together.
"Goodnight, Jude."
"Night, Connor," Jude mumbled against his neck. "I love you."
Connor swallowed. "I love you too, Jude."
Jude squeezed his hand and Connor lifted it awkwardly in order to kiss his knuckles. It had been a hard day; it had been way too hard of a day. But it was better than all of the nights that he had spent alone at the apartment, turned and facing a wall, too stubborn to admit that there was no one on the other side of him anymore. They'd get through all of it together. Behind him, he heard Jude's breath soften as he fell asleep. Carefully, Connor turned himself over in Jude's arms and hid his face against Jude's chest.
Much better.
Don't forget to send me playlist ideas if you have them! This week's songs are: Wide Open by Westlife; Anniversary by Chase Coy; and Last Kiss by Taylor Swift.
So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Hand In My Pocket, to my tumblr URL add backslash tagged backslash hand dash in dash my dash pocket. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.
~TLL~