"I'm just trying to sleep, dad. I don't feel so well. I've had this stomach ache and I've not been sleeping very well the past week or so, I don't know what it is," Greg replied, rolling over.

"Well, why are you sleeping in here with James? You have your own bed here, sleep in that one. Why are you sleeping in a bed with another man when you have your own perfectly good bed to sleep in?" John growled suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Greg, trying to read for any tells that would suggest that he was lying or only giving him a half truth.

"It's more comfortable in here. This is a more comfortable bed," Greg mumbled, rolling his face into the pillow to mute the shaking in his voice that he could feel rising inside him. This is the moment of truth, the moment when his father would either take this at face value and leave James and Greg to sleep, accepting that that's all they were doing, or he would realise what was really going on, retrieve one of the many guns throughout the house, and in two shots, they'd both be dead. At least it won't hurt. Be here one moment, and then just gone the next. Greg wondered whether James was having the same thoughts as he was about that. What James was thinking at all.

"I don't really quite know what to think of your friend, Gregory, he's been acting strange ever since you arrived. I don't know whether he's normal or not. Why is he not talking to me right now, what is he scared of me or something?" John questioned, perching himself on the edge of the bed.

Yes. Of course he's terrified of you!

"No, he's not scared dad, He's been very, very sick. He's only just gotten out of hospital. He nearly died the other day, more than once. He's not been feeling well or himself around anyone. So, he just wants to rest," Greg said, looking at his father, ensuring not to be the first to break eye contact.

"And he sleeps better with you sleeping next to him, than he would if he were sleeping alone?" John continued questioning.

Absolutely.

"I've been worried about him, dad, the other night it was only because Lisa woke up and found him that he hadn't passed away. He's been my best friend for twenty years. Of course I care about him," Greg continued, and John's face twisted ever so slightly. Shit, shit, shit!

"Anything you've got to say for yourself, James?" John roared, "I know that you can hear me!" silence was the only response that John got; "are you sleeping with my son?" John screamed at him, "answer me, or so God help me, I will assume that you are!"

Lisa pulled away from her spot downstairs and ran to the staircase and climbed it; with Blythe following behind, it felt like they were moving in slow motion and as though they were wading through molasses. It felt heavy, terrifying and sickening to get through and up there, before they both knew silently that two shots could ring through the air at any moment.

"No sir, I'm not," James muttered trying to keep his voice steady, "I'm straight, I've been married three times- all those marriages were to women. I'm not gay. Greg is only here to make sure I don't stop breathing again like what happened the other morning, but I'm still very sick, I nearly died, I've just been released from hospital. Please sir, I'm not feeling well, I just need to rest,"

"Don't smirk too fast, son," John snarled, staring down at his son's face who had a slightly proud expression come over it. John swept up Greg's cane and brought the end of the handle down on his thigh, right into the centre of his injured surgical scar, and his scream could be heard anywhere in the house, as he doubled over.

James leapt up and dove over the top of Greg's leg, shielding it with his own body, his arms outstretched, grasping for the cane as Greg continued to howl; when John brought it down on James' shoulder, and then down along his spine repeatedly, until James stopped fighting for possession of the cane. Instead, just laying there over Greg and taking the beating on his bare skin, while John then whacked Greg across the ribs, James and Greg shared the thought of hoping that they'd both come out of this, while battered and bruised and hurt; just that it wouldn't escalate. That they'd both survive.

"I'm going to fucking kill you two faggots!" John snarled, as he pushed the cane across Greg's throat, who didn't fight back; simply acknowledged that this is it. This is how it all ends. This is how we die. Beaten to death with my own cane.

As the pressure on his throat increased, James reached out with his arm to try and pull it away; but was just punched in the face repeatedly until he submitted and stopped fighting back. He's going to kill us, and there's nothing we can do.

Blythe and Lisa came running in and immediately saw the carnage- the sheets and duvet were bloodied, Greg was being actively choked by his father, and James lay in a lump over Greg with blood running slowly from his nose and mouth, not moving and his shoulder looking misshapen. "They're dead!" Blythe screamed.

"Not yet," John snarled, "don't come any closer or you'll be as dead as they're about to be! You two bitches are next! You should have stayed downstairs and minded your own business, and then you wouldn't have to get hurt either!"

Acting purely on instinct from seeing her only son being actively murdered by his own father, Blythe ran forward and shoved John into the wall with all her strength, which loosened his grip on the cane out of shock of his wife fighting back for the first time in 45 years of marriage, with Lisa quickly following after and snatching the cane away from him. With a closed fist, Blythe smacked him across the face, her chest heaving and positioned herself between her husband and her half-conscious son. Lisa raised the cane as if to hit him, and he slunk off out of the room. "Oh my God," Blythe gasped, "where do we start?"

"James," Greg coughed, massaging his throat, "he took the hardest hits," Greg pulled himself up onto his elbow and saw James' face, bruised and bloodied, blood seeping before his eyes widened; "oh my God," panic began rising from Greg's gut; "is he okay? He dislocated his shoulder! And his face, it's all bloody!"

"Greg, calm down, you need to stay quiet," Lisa muttered, before lowering her voice, "we need to get out of here as soon as we can. Right now. Look away, Greg, right now, look away,"

Greg did as he was told and shortly after heard an audible 'pop' which he knew meant that Lisa had reduced the dislocation herself and winced at the sickening sound, "James, wake up," Lisa gently nudged him awake, Greg didn't realise he was holding his breath until he heard James' gasp and cough as he coughed up a splatter of blood onto the bedsheet. Blythe screamed in panic at seeing the droplets of blood.

"Shush," Lisa hissed her voice still low, "that's normal, he's just swallowed blood, nothing more, he's just basically vomited it up. We are in danger, and we need to leave now," she told the boys, and then turned to Blythe, "you too. It's not any safer for you here right now than it is for these two,"

"Oh, I don't know…" Blythe started.

"It wasn't a question. James, can you walk?" Lisa asked.

James nodded, going to stand up, "its just a few bruises, he didn't actually hurt my spine, it's only bruising," as Lisa and Blythe helped him stand.

"Jesus Christ, James, you're heavy," Lisa muttered under his weight.

"Thanks," James mumbled, almost silently and rolled his eyes.

Lisa and Blythe bent down and helped Greg to his feet, who winced and grimaced but didn't utter a sound. Well trained with this, I see, Lisa thought.

Blythe peered out the window, "he's down the back of the garden with everyone else,"

"Good, it's time to go then," Lisa muttered, and James instinctively bent down with a loud hiss to start packing his bag, "leave it James, we don't have time! Grab your wallets if they're here, and let's go," she hissed, both men obliged, and Lisa grabbed her handbag, and the four of them crept down the staircase as silently as possible, Greg with his arm around Lisa's shoulders so he wouldn't be making any extra noise and thus, attract more attention by using his cane down the stairs instead. Upon reaching the bottom and at the front door, Greg retrieved his cane that his mom was carrying, who in turn grabbed her purse on the table just inside the door and headed out towards the waiting black truck. Silently, with the boys in the back, Lisa driving, and Blythe in the front seat; they drove out as silently as possible, not ever looking back.

They returned to the hospital where they'd been just a few days prior; and walked into the emergency room; Blythe sat down with the boys while Lisa approached the triage desk; "I'm here with two of my friends who have been beaten up, they need to be checked over… their names are James Wilson and Gregory House; we really need to ensure that there are no visitors that come to see them. It's a matter of safety, they're under threat," Lisa explained, and the nurse nodded and walked over to check out the two middle aged men she was directed to; one man was shirtless and had a bloodied face with dried blood from his nose and mouth, and was cradling his left arm; and the other was clearly in pain, with a rapidly darkening bruise across his throat.

"Do you want to explain what happened?" the nurse asked, the man with the bruised throat shook his head, and the shirtless man said he didn't want to explain in public, they wanted to explain in private, and all four of them were to go together, none of them were to be separated or left behind in the waiting room; despite that the two women, the middle aged woman who checked them in, and the elderly woman who was sitting beside them- were uninjured.

"Okay," the nurse sighed through frustration, "come through,"

The ER was dead quiet, and the nurse noticed that the shirtless man had darkening marks in the shape of a cane handle down his spine, and the other beaten man was walking with a cane that appeared as though it would match the shape of the bruising, but it hadn't sounded from what she'd heard as though the fight was between the two of them alone, so left her questions out of it, at least for the time being.

The four of them sat around in a room, "absolutely no visitors," the four of them all iterated, and the nurse nodded and scrawled something down on the page. The shirtless man who was cradling his arm was the one who began talking about what had happened. "We were staying at my partner's," gesturing to the other man, "family home, and his father and uncle are very homophobic… we were both having a nap, when his dad burst in and attacked us out of nowhere while we were sleeping. My partner has had a debridement surgery done on his thigh years ago, and his father smashed him in the thigh with his own cane, I woke up when he screamed and tried to stop it. I tried to grab the cane, and he smashed it down onto my shoulder and dislocated it, and after that is when his dad beat me down the back. He beat my partner on his ribs too, before he pushed the shaft of the cane down on my partner's throat and strangled him with it, which is when I tried to pull the cane away from him and he punched me repeatedly in the face," James explained, "our friend, and my mother-in-law came in and managed to get the cane away, and he left. My friend who checked us in, she managed to put my shoulder back in place, although it still hurts. Please don't let anyone else know we're here or let anyone else in to see us, no matter what they say. Please, I think he might kill us,"

The nurse nodded and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around James' arm to take his blood pressure and took down all his vitals, and then followed on with Greg. "Everything is probably fine, physically. But we'll get some imaging done just in case, like an x-ray to make sure that your shoulder is back where it should be. I can also contact the police if you'd like me to?"

Everyone exchanged glances, before Greg spoke, "I don't know about pressing charges yet- but I do want to put a restraining order in place. Especially for James and I, and for my mom, and that's a non-negotiable," Greg glanced over at Blythe, who just glanced downcast toward the floor.

The nurse nodded, and Lisa took photos of the injuries on her phone as proof for the restraining order; before both Greg and James were taken to imaging. They returned with James in another scrub shirt from the hospital to see Lisa and Blythe both sat down with two police officers, explaining the situation and what had occurred.

James' shoulder was strapped but had been properly reduced back at the house, with no permanent damage done; and otherwise, while extremely painful, all their other injuries were superficial. After repeating part of the story to the police, and Greg confirming what his mother had told the police that this kind of violence had been going on for 45 years; the police officer stated that while he recommended pressing charges for assault and battery; that a restraining order was almost certain to go through. That they could go down to the courthouse now and sign restraining orders against both John and Henry, which would be presented to them the following day.

"It's the right choice, mom, he could have killed James and I today, and he has nearly killed both you and I before- many times. And Uncle Henry isn't… he isn't a good guy either, you know how similar he is to dad. We need to be safe, and this way we can be," Greg whispered comfortingly to Blythe as they walked up the stairs to the courthouse that afternoon, "and by the time they know tomorrow, we will all have already left town. You've talked about leaving him all my life mom, it's time to actually do it. James and I will look after you at home, and you can stay with us for as long as you need. You don't ever have to go back; this will just stop us from being harassed. Next time, none of us might be so lucky to escape. Next time, I think he'd go through with actually killing us. Especially you, me, and James,"

Once again, Lisa felt her heart swell with pride at Greg's selfless, kind actions; just as she had the day that he'd talked James down from killing himself on the side of the highway, I'm really learning a lot about Greg on this trip; and pretty much all of it is good Lisa thought, as she held the door open, and they all entered inside. This was it, there was no turning back now.