I Was A Prayer, Ch. 21
Nick woke to an empty bed.
This wasn’t a particularly surprising event, seeing as he usually slept alone. But, the fact that he was in a bed he’d never slept in before (because they wouldn’t be so cruel to Kevin as to cuddle in Joe’s bed with him just across the room) left him so completely disoriented, he had to wonder if he’d been knocked out and placed there while unconscious.
It came back to him as soon as that groggy feeling of just waking faded out of his mind. Joe. And, suddenly, he wanted to burst into tears all over again. Of course, he didn’t. That wouldn’t solve anything. That wouldn’t make it go away. He wasn’t going to waste time he could be using to try and help make things better, to get them past this and on into their lives.
He could hear the shower running. Kevin’s bed was empty, but it looked like it had been all night. Maybe he slept somewhere else. He figured Joe was the one behind the closed bathroom door, a theory confirmed by the fact that he knocked and no one answered.
He eased it open, peeking around the edge, because he wasn’t going to do anything without making sure Joe was perfectly okay with it, perfectly at ease with him being near him and wanting to help him. “Joe? Are you okay?”
He could make out his form through the frosted glass, a hunched white ball with a smudge of darkness where his head was, and he slipped in, letting the door click closed behind him, and pulled aside the shower door.
Joe looked up at him through the steam billowing out from the hot water. He was still wrapped in his robe, though it was drenched now, his hair plastered against his head. His eyes were bigger than Nick remembered, like he was completely open and raw, and he managed a smile for him, because if Joe needed to see anything, it was someone who loved him, someone who could make him happy and who would never hurt him. “Mind if I join you?”
Joe didn’t speak. He just slid over to leave some space for Nick, just enough that he would be able to sit down. He did, with pajamas and all. He crossed his legs underneath him, wincing at how hot the water was and wondering how his brother could stand to be sitting in here. They didn’t say anything for a long time. They didn’t even look at each other; they just let the water wash over them, staring at the wall across from them.
Joe spoke first, a soft sound, mixing with the water, as opposed to trying to speak over it. “That’s Kevin’s shirt.” His voice was hoarse, but just a hint of amusement could be heard in it, despite the fact that no smile reflected the sentiment.
Nick looked down at the old Police shirt he was wearing, chuckling quietly and shaking his head. “He’ll get over it. I’ll put in the dryer when we get out; he won’t even know the difference.”
Joe nodded, his arms locked around his legs, chin resting on his knees. Nick thought it was a good sign that he was able to sit like that. Maybe that meant he didn’t quite hurt as much as it had the night before, when every movement was made gingerly, carefully, to not make it worse. “You know what they say?” His voice was stronger, but still quiet, like he had to talk himself into saying this. “You know how rape victims always say they can’t get the feeling to go away?”
Nick stared at him, not knowing how to respond, his heart aching at those words - rape victim - and how they related to his brother.
“That’s not quite right. I’ve been sitting here trying to make myself feel less dirty, and … it’s working. I don’t feel dirty. I almost feel relieved.” A dry laugh passed his lips, somehow without a smile to accompany it.
“Joe …” Nick lifted his hand, intending to touch him, to comfort him, but he ended up just letting his fingers hover near his shoulder, not knowing where the lines lay anymore, and if he was allowed to cross them.
“The problem isn’t that I can still feel him.” Joe just shook his head. “I’m just scared … that he’s coming back, you know? That he’s always going to be just around the corner to make my life hell all over again.” He turned to look at him, speaking to him for the first time. His eyes were filled with a certain sort of sadness, but it was accompanied by just a little bit of hope, like maybe now that it was over, things could be okay again. “I’m sorry, Nicky. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to protect you, and protect us, and I ended up hurting both those things.”
Nick didn’t hesitate this time. He slid closer, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shoulders and pulling him in against his side and resting his cheek against his hair. Joe’s body tensed for only a moment, then relaxed into his embrace, not returning it, but allowing it, which was a feat in itself. “For the record,” Nick’s voice was soft, because if he spoke any louder, he would probably cry, and that wouldn’t help anyone. “’Hurting’ is not the same as ‘destroying.’ I’ll heal. I’m already healing, and we can heal too, if you let us.”
Joe shook his head, closing his eyes, because when was the last time Nick had held him like this, like he wanted to protect him from anything that could possibly hurt him? “Nick.” He didn’t want to talk about this. But, he had to. He had to tell him how sorry he was. “Nick, I can’t … give you everything now. He took part of me; he took the part of me that I wanted to give to you more than anything, that I’d been saving to give to you my whole life.”
“Oh, Joe,” Nick shook his head, cupping his brother’s cheek and turning his face, so he had to look at him, had to see the honesty in his eyes. “Joe, he’s … god, he’s an idiot.” He laughed softly at himself for the words, because it was the strangest thing to say about a man who was such a monster. “He didn’t get anything, Joe. He didn’t take any part of you, because he’s an idiot, and he didn’t realize that everything you are, every single beautiful part of you, is mine.” He smiled gently at the surprise and joy in Joe’s face; he looked like he’d expected to never hear those kinds of things again. “As far as I’m concerned, baby, he didn’t ask my permission to borrow you, and he definitely would never get my permission to take any part of you away.”
Joe didn’t have time to answer before the shower door was opening again. They both looked up at Kevin, who was staring at them with that face he made only when he was completely confused but had no intention of asking what was going on. The plastic covering the doctor had given him for his cast was in place, an obvious indication that he’d planned to shower.
Joe moved first, lifting his hand to Kevin, wanting him to take it, and the action made Kevin smile. He grasped his fingers gently, stepping into the shower, and Nick slid the door closed again, and the three boys sat in silence under the falling water for a long time. It seemed so completely normal and casual, that three brothers, completely grown-up, were sitting together in a shower stall like this. Joe didn’t let go of Kevin’s hand; having the two most important people in his life right here within reach was too comforting to pass up.
“Nice cast,” Joe finally offered into the space between them, and the lack of a smile on his face almost made the sarcasm seem like it wasn’t a joke.
Kevin knew him well enough to know he should smile anyway, keeping his chuckle soft. “Yeah,” he shook his head. “Bones don’t like it when you use them to break windows; remember that.”
It took Joe much longer to respond to that. He let his hand slip from his brother’s, and his fingers slid across the plaster of the cast, almost tenderly, because the injury came to be solely because he was taking care of him. Kevin was protecting him, and hurt himself doing it, and Joe was so sorry for that, so sorry he had to do it. He lifted his eyes to his face, blinking through the water dripping from his bangs and sliding down his face, and Kevin smiled gently, like he knew what he was thinking.
“Don’t say it.” He said softly, covering his hand. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”