I Was A Prayer, Ch. 19
Joe sobbed the whole way home, from where he lay across the backseat of Kevin’s truck. Between each shaky, strained breath, he told him everything: how Matt had contacted him and blackmailed him for loving Nick, how he’d broken up with him because Matt couldn’t hurt him that way, every single thing Matt ever made him do. It was as if he had been keeping a corked bottle full of secrets, and now that the threat of having them found out was gone, it was bursting open, foaming into a messy vomit of words and stories, and Kevin just listened, despite the ways everything he heard made his fists tighten around the steering wheel, made his ears ring, made his eyes blind with rage. He just listened, because Joe needed to tell it.
His head was swimming with all the things he needed to do in the next few hours: Get Joe cleaned up and rested, have Big go get Joe’s car and do something about the broken window, think up a story for their parents, tell Nick. Tell Nick. He still wasn’t sure how he planned to tackle that. There was no way he could say it that wouldn’t affect Nick in the worst ways.
But, that wasn’t his main concern as he pulled into the garage, driving carefully and slowly, as he had the whole way home, because Joe was in pain, and the last thing he wanted to do was make it worse. He slipped out of the seat, and opened the back door. Joe lifted his head, and Kevin’s heart broke at the sight of his bleary, dazed eyes and blotchy face. “Come on, honey.” He kept his voice soft, his hands careful as he helped him crawl from the car. There wasn’t a moment when he let go of him; it was important to let him know he was here.
Always tentative and hesitant, he led him toward the door, thankful that their parents’ car was missing. That meant the only one in the house would be Nick. He had a little extra time to think of something to explain this. When the warm, sweet air of the kitchen met them, Joe’s tense muscles relaxed, and even Kevin could tell a sense of relief that only comes from being home had overtaken him. He was able to walk, but his limp was heavy, and Kevin tried his best to ignore the dark stain on the back of his brother’s pants, the bruise blooming over his eye. The best bet would be to get him into a bath, at least to ease the pain a little.
They managed to get to the bottom of the stairs without incident. That was where the worst thing that could have happened did. Nick wandered around the corner, a piece of piano music in his hand. It slipped from his grip and fluttered to the floor when he jerked to a halt at the sight of them. Of course, it couldn’t be easy seeing the boy he loved more than anything looking like the world had just challenged him to a duel and won. “What happened?” It was a demand, somewhat harsh, to hide his anxiety, and he reached for Joe, to put a hand on his shoulder, to offer him comfort, to do anything to make this better.
Joe saw that hand coming, jerked back suddenly, out of Kevin’s grasp, shrieking, “Don’t touch me. I’m disgusting!” Without his brother’s support, he hit the floor on his knees, letting out a strangled sob and clutched his arms around himself, his shoulders shaking harshly. He couldn’t imagine having Nick’s hands on him right now, not after what had happened, not after everything that he’d done. All he would do was taint him.
Nick just stared down at him, appalled, terrified, unsure what to do. Kevin was in action immediately, crouching to scoop Joe up into his arms, where his brother pressed his face into his neck, hiding himself, even as he continued to cry. “Nick,” Kevin kept his voice low, his eyes stern. “I need you to go to your room, and I need you to stay there till I come get you. Okay?”
Nick just nodded numbly, then sprinted up the stairs. Kevin only continued up himself, carefully, because carrying Joe was a much harder task than leading him, when he heard the distinct click of his little brother’s door closing. He knew Nick was probably scared out of his mind, especially since he didn’t know what was going on or what he could do to fix it. But, Nick wasn’t his concern right now - not yet. Before he explained everything to Nick, he had to do what he could for Joe.
When they reached the bathroom that branched off from their bedroom, he carefully set Joe’s feet on the floor, his arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him up. “Joe, honey,” he kept his voice soft, stroking his brother’s hair off his face and sighing when he flinched. “I’m going to draw you a bath. Can you lean on the sink for me?”
Joe didn’t respond, except to do as he was told, blindly placing his hands on the edge of the counter to support himself while Kevin moved over to run the water. His whole body was trembling, his fingers shaking with their effort to keep him from just collapsing.
Kevin got the water to the temperature he wanted it and let it run, returning to his brother. “Can you take your clothes off, or do you want me to help?” The question was hesitant and faltering at best. Sure, he and Joe had shared a room all their lives, had helped each other pull off t-shirts that were probably a size or so too tight, had seen each other naked, because they were brothers, and it happened, but he had no idea what would change now that rape was involved. He had no idea if Joe could handle anything he used to be able to.
He was relieved when Joe lifted his arms a little, without letting go of the sink, moving them away from his body enough that Kevin could take it as a sign that he was asking for help. Carefully, he unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off his shoulders, holding onto him in order to untangle it from his hands, which hung uselessly at his sides, like most of the rest of his body. He had been fine, as fine as he could be, capable of speaking and crying and walking. It seemed remembering that Nick existed, and he couldn’t ever be the same person for him, was enough to destroy those abilities.
“Can you lift your arms for me?” Joe just did as he was told, leaning his hip against the edge of the counter, and bringing his hands over his head, so Kevin could tug his t-shirt off. He winced at the various bruises, new and fading, that littered his brother’s body. He had no idea how long this had been going on. He wished he had figured out what exactly was happening much sooner.
He was much more careful with his pants. While he was pretty sure he’d proven to Joe that he only wanted to help, and had no intention of hurting him, he remained tentative, pushing them down, along with his boxers, apologizing profusely when Joe hissed in pain, but also reveling in the fact that he was still able to give a human reaction to it. Kneeling down, he lifted first one foot and then the other, pulling Joe’s shoes and socks off and tugging his pants off too.
He tried not to look too closely at him. It wasn’t because this was embarrassing for him. He’d been the one who changed Frankie’s diapers, and helped Nick get dressed, and even this past year when Joe had the stomach flu, he’d been the one to hold his hair back when he threw up. But, the sight of him, with his skin stretched probably too tautly across his bones, his olive skin pasty and cool, it was hard to endure, and the very obviousness of the fact that he’d forgotten how to take care of himself made this all the harder.
So, as gently as he could, he drew Joe over to the edge of the bathtub, helped him step in and eased him down. He settled a little more on his right hip and leg than actually sitting down properly, but that wasn’t surprising, especially with how much pain he was no doubt in. Kevin perched on the edge of the tub, frowning sadly at him as he slid his hands absently across the top of the water, watching the waves they made. Neither of them spoke. Kevin washed Joe’s hair, rinsed it under the faucet; carefully dabbed a soapy washcloth across his bruised skin, and Joe just let him do it, his tense muscles easing a little with each moment he knew he was safe.
Joe broke the silence, his voice a scared whisper. “Do you think he hates me?”
Kevin’s heart shattered all over again. He tugged a wet strand of hair out of Joe’s face, tucking it behind his ear. “He didn’t hate you for a second.” His honesty made him sound fiercer than he meant to. “He still doesn’t. He’s just a kid who’s hopelessly in love and worried about you.”
Joe’s eyes lifted to meet Kevin’s, and there was something about them, maybe the faint glimmer of hope, that made Kevin think everything might be okay after all. “I’m cold. Can you help me out?”
Thin hands lifted, and Kevin took them, gently pulling Joe to his feet and grabbing a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his shoulders and helping him step out and onto the rug. “You want some pajamas? I can get them for you.”
Joe shook his head, an almost desperate fear flashing across his face. He didn’t want to be alone, even if his brother was just going to the next room. “My robe is on the door. That’d be fine. I don’t think I could put another pair of pants on anyway.”
Kevin winced at the implication, and nodded, leaving Joe to stiffly dry himself off while he grabbed the robe. He helped him into it, and tied it around him, before removing him gingerly to the bedroom. Joe curled up immediately in his bed, and Kevin sat down beside him, tucking his blankets around his shoulders. “Do you need anything, Joey?”
He just shook his head, his eyes closing as Kevin stroked the hair back from his face. “Just don’t leave me alone, okay?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The older boy promised, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Kevin just sat there, his fingers still tugging through Joe’s hair, listening to him breathing, because that was what he needed to hear, more than anything, to know that he was alive and with him, and he’d done what he could to save him, even if it hadn’t been enough.
It didn’t take Joe very long to fall asleep, despite the fact that it was barely dark outside. Kevin had no doubt his body was exhausted, and he reached over to dim the lamp on his bedside table, knowing that if Joe woke in the dark, it would scare him, and gingerly unfolded himself from the bed, creeping out of the room and down the hall to Nick’s.
As soon as he opened the door, Nick was at his side, clutching his arm, desperate for anything. He’d spent the past hour and a half pacing his room. He could practically see the tread marks in his carpet. “How is he? What happened? Will he be okay?”
Kevin just sighed and pulled Nick close into a hug, which the younger boy returned, surprised and silenced and terrified by what it meant. “He’s alright for now.” He managed softly, leading Nick over to his bed and gently pushing him down onto the edge of it. Nick allowed it, too concerned to resent being treated like a child. “But, there’s something you should know.”