Jonathon was rolling up to a red traffic light when he decided it was high time that he test the waters. He could see a bit of Shawn's face behind him in his mirror and was reminded briefly of when dogs stick their heads out of car windows. He couldn't fault him for enjoying himself. It was a nice day for a ride.

"Wanna stop at the McDonald's and grab a Big Mac? I can get them to put yours in the blender," Jonathon hollered over his shoulder.

Twisting his head around, he caught Shawn with a smile on his face.

"Hey, we tried that with Grandma Gertie on Thanksgiving, but she still found a way to choke."

Jonathon gave a half-suppressed laugh and thumped the kid's knee jovially. "Well then, how about a milkshake?"

Shawn sat cross-legged on top of a picnic table in the McDonald's parking lot with a basket of fries next to him. He was sulking again. Jonathon expected nothing less after the morning they had. At least he'd momentarily forgotten to be miserable while aboard the Harley and sitting there soaking in the sun, he was starting to get a little colour back in his cheeks. He shifted his soft drink from hand to hand, rolling it against his fingers, but made few attempts to make use of the straw.

One thing Shawn's appointment taught Jonathon was to give up on searching for smooth segues into pressing matters. "Why didn't you tell me you were in so much pain?" Jonathon blurted after several minutes of hesitating.

Shawn glanced up suddenly like he had been called out of a trance and squinted against the sunlight. "What do you mean?"

Jonathon licked salt off his thumb and looked him over. "Your jaw. After all the fighting we were doing over getting you to eat, you never told me it was too painful. I feel like a jerk."

The kid's brow furrowed at the last part, but he didn't give up an explanation. Instead, he put the straw in his mouth and chewed it.

"I'm sorry." Jonathon squatted and sat himself on the parking block in the empty space beside them. "I should've noticed. I'm still new at this. Is that excuse getting old?"

Shawn shook his head, annoyed. "This conversation is getting old."

Damn.

Being shut down stung. Jonathon was tired of arguing so he let it hang there in the air. The silence was thick. So thick that it was suffocating, and he knew he wouldn't be able to say what he needed to the longer he waited. Eventually, he heard his own voice cutting through the silence. "Come on, buddy. You gotta give me something here." To Jonathon, it sounded like begging.

Shawn was at least looking at him but in a way that suggested he was sizing him up. Jonathon let him. It made him feel like shit, but he let him. He didn't think there was much for the kid to read. Jonathon wore it all on his sleeve these days. And that wasn't nothing. There were some women from his past who swore he was incapable of doing just that. Somehow though Shawn kept this up for several minutes, his eyes burning into the man exhibiting little emotion at all.

Jonathon stared back and leaned his elbows on his knees. He thought if he looked away, one of them would change the subject. He was afraid of that because he needed this. They needed it. It needed to be out in the open, yet Jonathon was having trouble remembering what he'd even asked in the first place. So, he stretched his patience a little more and waited. The boy had to speak up eventually.

He was right.

"You just can't let anything go, can you?" Shawn said finally in an accusatory tone.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes. "Can you just let it go? I don't want to talk about it."

There was silence again while Jonathon took a breath to choke back his temper. He thought about making Shawn wait for a response like he had done but then one of them had to be the adult. And it better well be the adult. "No, I can't just let it go. Just so you know, that's what it's like having someone care. No matter how annoying that might be for you." He added, coolly.

At that, Shawn rolled his eyes again and looked away.

"Alright, enough of that, Hunter. Listen, you heard the doctor. If you don't get your weight up, you're going to be right back where you started in the hospital."

"No, I won't!"

"Shawn, you made a deal with him, remember? You start eating or they're putting in a feeding tube. This is serious."

Taking a handful of fries, the boy stuffed them in his mouth and glared in his guardian's direction. "There. Happy?"

Jonathon scoffed. "Yeah, good. That solves everything." He said sarcastically. "You know, kid, if you don't start speaking up for yourself, telling me when something's wrong, you're never going to get better."

"Maybe I don't want to get better."

The teacher didn't get time to snap. But he would've.

"Maybe I'm not ready." Shawn wasn't looking at him anymore. The ball was back in Jonathon's court but not really. It didn't feel like winning or like he had control over the situation. Not at all.

"What do you mean? You want to keep being in pain?"

Shawn looked like a much younger boy now. He crossed his arms and said with his face screwed up in a scowl: "No."

"Well then …" Jonathon checked his tone, groaned, and started over. "What are we even talking about here, Hunter?"

"Beats me." Shawn lowered his feet and stood on the seat of the picnic table. Before Jonathon could tell him not to, he jumped down and hid his pain from the action pretty well. Not perfectly. It must have ached.

Jonathon got to his feet also, balling a paper bag up in his fist. He pitched it into the trash can a few feet away and was about to ask Shawn if he was going to finish his fries, when the kid spoke up again. "I didn't know it was still broken, okay?" He meant his jaw.

"But that must've hurt a lot though, man."

Shawn shrugged. "Better than feeling nothing."

He started for the trash can with his soda in hand, but Jonathon caught his arm and pulled him back. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean? You said you weren't feeling numb like that anymore. Are you telling me you're trying to hurt yourself?"

Shawn glowered at him and snatched his arm away from the man's grasp. Jonathon gripped both arms then and jerked him closer. "Hunter, let's not go backward." He shook his head. "Please, if you're depressed, you gotta tell me."

"Get off me!" Shawn shouted, trying to shake free. "That's not what I meant."

"You said the pain was better than feeling nothing."

Shawn hung his head. "I didn't mean it like that. I just want things to go back to the way they were. I don't do doctors and I don't do pills. I don't do people butting into my business."

"Kid," Jonathon said, releasing his shoulders and brushing out the creases he'd created in his jacket by grabbing him. "Avoiding dealing with things doesn't make them go away."

Shawn pushed his hair out of his eyes and stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, yeah. That's what Cory said."

Jonathon picked up his helmet. He held it against his hip as Shawn bent down for his own. "You know, if it's being fussed over that's getting to you, that'll stop when you get better." He sounded a lot more confident than he was.

"Uh huh."

There. They talked about it. With nothing having been resolved and little new information shared, Jonathon knew they'd be revisiting the topic again pretty soon. But maybe that was enough for today. He knocked on the kid's helmet and swung his leg over the bike. He felt Shawn climbing on behind him as he started up the engine. He shot a glance over his shoulder as he rolled up to the parking lot exit. "You forgot your fries," he said, giving the engine a rev and taking off.

Carlo was stopped for gas at a Sunoco about a mile off from the New Jersey Turnpike. As his car slowly chugged away and he watched the price on the pump soar, he rehearsed what he was going to say to Nicky when he finally found him.

You're one selfish bastard, you know that? We know you're going through a lot, but you could still fucking pick up the phone. We're your family and we don't deserve this shit. We wanted to help you and you took off like it's all our fault. What do you want? An apology? Well, I'm sorry, Nick. We're all sorry. Couldn't you just stick around and hear us out? Here I am on my way out to make sure you haven't offed yourself and all I can think is … why can't you just …?

Carlo had no clue what he would have Nicky do. As if he had all the answers. Or any of the answers. As if he could understand any of it let alone determine what was the right thing. Not just for his brother. For his family and himself, too. It wasn't like there were any books out there that could tell him how to do this – he wouldn't know if there was. He was just trying to pull his family through, not even sure that it should be his job. He was no hero. It was just something to do when the alternative was drowning in it all.

"Fuck!" A small puddle of gas had dripped to the ground from the nozzle as he pulled it from his tank. He quickly tilted it up and thrust it back into the dispenser holder.

A woman at the next pump shot him an offended look. Carlo waved her off.

He locked his car and approached the window at the attendant booth. He knocked and a guy with a mullet looked up from a magazine. "What's the problem, man?"

"Spilled some gas. I'm at pump 4."

"Uh, use a rag. Here." He was leaning forward, presumably looking for one.

"No. There's a bit there. You need to throw down cat litter."

The guy looked stunned. "Cat litter?"

Carlo gritted his teeth. "To absorb the gas! This whole place could blow up, dipshit. You gotta clean that shit up!"

"Hey, you're the dipshit who spilled it," Mullet Head fired back. When he finally got to his feet and came out from the booth, he was holding an orange vest and shrugged into it. Carlo led the way to the pump, checked his watch, and put his hands on his hips. The guy looked around the station as though waiting for someone to come help him.

"I don't have time for this," Carlo said under his breath.

It took him fifteen minutes to get a two-minute job done. Carlo tore himself away to use a payphone. He knew he'd punch Mullet Head if he stuck around to watch.

Carlo drummed his fingers against the phone box while he listened to it ring. Eventually, the answering machine clicked in, though he wasn't expecting anything different. "Hey, it's Nick. Leave a message." He thought about doing just that and letting his brother have it, but there would be time for that when he got there. It wasn't like Nicky could call him back either.

Reaching into his back pocket, Carlo pulled out his wallet and found Nicky's business card. When he made detective, the family took him out to celebrate and he passed out business cards to each of them. Matthew got caught that same night trying to use it as ID to get a beer at the bar. Carlo kept his. At the time, he had thought it might add something to his game when picking up women. He hadn't really considered that he'd ever need to reach his brother at work. Now he was desperate. On the off-chance that Nicky had gone into the office, he'd try there, too.

The line rang and rang. Curiously, this time, it didn't go to voicemail. He turned to find the gas station attendant still trying to figure out how to do his job, so Carlo turned his back again and let it continue to ring.

Eventually, a familiar voice picked up. It wasn't who Carlo was expecting. He had a lot of questions but none of them got answered. When he hung up the receiver, the sick feeling in his gut was worse than before. He fished a fifty out of his wallet and shoved it into Mullet Head's fist. "Keep the change," he said, and the guy gaped at him as he trudged passed and got in his car.

By the time Carlo was back on the I-95, he was pissed off and drained of his patience. He gathered speed on the on-ramp and just kept going. Ramming the gas pedal to the floor, he cut across three lanes to get to the far left, forcing the pickup truck that was beside him to slam on its breaks. The guy laid on his horn and then Carlo caught him in his rearview, tail gaiting. Carlo rolled down his window and flipped him off. "Fuck, Nicky. If you're not already dead …"

Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! I'm glad you're enjoying this story still. It's been nine years since I started this... that's insane. Yet, I'm still in love with writing it. This chapter is shorter than the last, but I just wanted to update again. More coming soon. Let me know what you thought of this one