Healing - Chapter Twenty Three - Paradigm
Healing
Sydney Alexis
Twenty Three - Paradigm
[Age: 16]
Justin had this freakish obsession with grocery shopping wherein he played the destitute student that only shopped on Double Coupon Thursday and always came armed with said coupons. Brian found it amusing when he didn't actually have to participate, and Gus...well...at first he thought it was embarrassing as hell. Now, he just found it annoying.
Double Coupon Thursday brought out two types of people--the penny-pinching grannies and the moms with so many kids they don't know what to do. Both groups would club you to death with their purses for the last, un-dented can of tomato paste.
It truly was Wild Kingdom, but, it made Justin happy, so Gus was stuck on grocery shopping duty with his Pops.
To be honest, if there was a way to weasel out of it, Gus would have tried, but the terms of his parole were clear--community service, computer access only by supervision and only for schoolwork, therapy as requested by his doctor, random drug testing, tutoring twice a week until school term over, and, his personal favorite, he couldn't be out of his parents' sight for more than two hours at a time.
Which was why he was at Bloomfield Foodland at 9am on a Thursday, surrounded by grannies and screaming children, pushing a buggy that pulled to the left.
Gus side-eyed Justin as he checked off items from the list. Everything about these shopping trips was freakishly organized, too. There was a System. They'd always start in the middle of the store with the heavy items--canned goods, booze, soda--and then move to the freezer section to fill in meats and cheeses before going to the more perishable/easily squished items like fruits and breads.
Yes, Justin had a system, and, when the market moved anything, there was always that five second queen out when the carefully figured map in his head went awry. It was actually comical to watch -- the slow blink as he processed the change, the scratching at the back of the head, followed closely by looking down at the list again.
Of course, the Powers got even with Gus for so many things. Finding this amusing among them. Because, no sooner had he pushed the buggy into the produce section then he spotted Debbie. Groaning, he stopped at the end of the aisle.
"I'm gonna go try and find that thing you were looking for back in the cereal aisle," Gus said, pointing over his shoulder, but, of course, Debbie had to use that moment to look up and spot Justin. Which was quickly followed by...
"Sunshine!"
And her rapid approach. That is until she finally noticed...
"Gus." Tone so carefully neutral it was almost amusing.
The snap of gum, a pointed acrylic nail, and a disapproving look later, Gus was shifting from foot to foot before standing up tall behind the buggy. At 6'5" he knew he looked menacing as shit when he wasn't slouching.
"What the fuck's he doing here," she asked, pinning Justin with a stare that let him know she'd keep at the subject until she found out.
"Let's see...produce, shopping cart...I'm thinking clog dancing," Gus quipped, fingers wrapping a little tighter around the handle.
"Still a sassy little shit, I see."
Gus rolled his eyes. "Well, as the school guidance councilor always told me, it's best to find what one is good at and focus their energies there."
Justin licked his lips to avoid laughing, which just made Gus' sarcastic smile inch into an easier one.
It was Deb's turn to roll her eyes.
"I mean in the grocery store in the middle of a school day," she explained before adding, "Although I might pay good money to see you clog dance. You know, with those cute little shoes."
Gus' eyes flickered to hers, confusion spreading across his face. Had she just said something nice to him?
Smirking, Gus replied, "Well...if anyone could pull them off as a fashion accessory, it'd be a queer."
Deb snapped her gum again and laughed. "Like father, like son," she said, tone light.
Gus shrugged, "Nothing wrong with that."
"Just don't pick up his bad habits," she said, smile a little forced.
Justin felt Gus bristle behind him, and he knew his time was running thin. Before he could intervene, however, Gus chimed in.
"No. We wouldn't want me to grow up and use my skills to make myself a financially independent businessman who owns his own company."
"That's not what I meant and you fucking well know it," she said, staring him down angrily with her hands and on hips. It was a stance Justin recognized well--one usually directed at Brian.
"I just want to be sure that you're being careful. That you won't do anything stupid while you're on probation," she said, watching Gus' momentarily shocked look school itself into neutrality.
"JR told us you've been getting into trouble," she explained, voice and expression softening with something akin to pity.
"Fucking little twat," Gus breathed.
"Not that I'd say it's a surprise with all that other shit going on..."
Gus' eyes shot up from the buggy's contents to Debbie's again as he searched her face, growing even angrier at the knowing look there. The whoosh-thud of his heart picked up as barely controlled fury surged through his body.
JR never did know when to keep her big mouth shut. Like he needed more shit from the Novotny clan.
Clenching his hands around the handle of the shopping cart to keep himself from doing anything stupid, he finally tuned back in to what she was blathering on about.
"But you've got to learn to control your temper..."
Eyes narrowing, Gus stared her down. "Funny that you should be offering me advice after ignoring the fact that I exist for six years," he said, pausing to let the words sink in. "And I kept my mouth shut for JR's sake, but I'm not about to let you bad mouth me or Dad this time around."
"I'm not putting down either of you. I'm just saying I saw the shit that your Dad went through when he was a kid...I just don't want you to repeat his mistakes so you don't end up going through all the fucking drama he did."
The expression Gus gave her was so hard it made her visibly shiver. "My father might have made mistakes, he might have been through hell as a kid, and, yes, he has his addictions, but all of that led him to the path he's on now. It made him strong enough to survive cancer and crazy enough to gamble everything on stopping Stockwell, and it put him on the path to meeting Justin. I don't think he regrets any of those things for an instant. So you'll have to excuse me if I don't give a shit what you have to say."
Offering another hard stare to Deb, Gus turned the shopping cart towards the checkouts despite the fact that they still needed garlic, carrots, and green apples.
And, to be perfectly honest, he was a little surprised to hear his Pops harshly whisper to Deb, "Just leave him alone, Deb; he's got enough shit going on in his life," before catching up to him.
While unloading the cart, Gus looked up at his father and said, "You do realize she's just going to call the moms and stir up shit over this."
Mouth in a tight line, Justin added the bottles of Beam and JD to the conveyor.
"Yeah."
"So what's my punishment? No computer time whatsoever? Tacking on more community service?" Gus asked, adding forty-billion boxes of condoms to the check out lane while actively not thinking about the fact that his fathers would go through said condoms.
Justin paused and looked up at Gus with that hard set jaw and eyes he'd get when they were practicing in the boxing ring.
"No one has the right to make you feel like shit. Family included."
Gus nodded, pushing more things around on the conveyor to make room for the rest of their crap.
"Does that mean you're not going to queen out for yelling at Debbie that way?"
Handing the cashier his pile of coupons, Justin looked at his kid with a sad smile.
"Contrary to what she may think, you're smart enough to understand that, sometimes, you have to stand up for yourself.”
Nodding, Gus watched Justin eyeing the bag boy suspiciously. God save the man that loaded bags into the cart incorrectly. Yet another one of Justin's freakish obsessions.
"It's just...you know...I'm like this black sheep of the family, and, with all the shit that went down, they might totally not let me see JR when she's here. Not that they would have before but," Gus trailed off, scrunching up his nose in thought. "I mean what if I have to wait until she's 18...or what if I have to go all scary stalker just to see her, you know?"
Justin gripped the grocery list in his hand a little harder than he intended because, yes, he did know; there were whole months he didn't get to see Molly after his father threw him out of the house. And, yes, she was going through her annoying, bratty little sister phase, but he still wanted to see her every once in awhile.
Meeting his kid's stare, Justin said, "I promise your dad and I will do everything we can to make sure you see her."
And, even with the resolve in his voice, they both knew there was only so much Justin and Brian could do in this case.
. . . . .
His anger was palpable as the glass door to his office flew open, marking Brian’s own invasion from the Novotny tribe with Cynthia hot on his tail.
"I'm so sorry, Brian. I was in the middle of confirming the Brown meeting, and he walked right past me," she explained, watching Brian's reaction carefully to gauge whether or not to call security.
"Michael! To what do I owe the displeasure," Brian asked, voice filled with faux-sincerity as he watched his former best friend edge into his office and Cynthia out, closing the door behind her.
Ignoring the barb, Michael stood behind one of Brian's client chairs, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
"Did you know Mel and Lindsay were having problems," he asked in a hurried tone.
Keeping his face neutral despite how much hearing the accusatory tone pissed him off, Brian continued staring Michael down for a long moment. Like Michael couldn't have spoken to the Munchers himself instead of darkening his office's door.
"Let me guess; they finally confessed to Father Mikey," he spat.
“You knew,” he replied tone less than surprised.
“Why yes, Michael. I used my amazing ability to read minds,” Brian deadpanned, smoothing down his tie. The truth was that the distance between Mel and Lindz had been there if anyone had bothered to notice it. Not that Brian was going to point out that little tidbit; he didn’t feel like dealing with the outburst Michael would no doubt have at the insinuation.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Michael nodded to himself and replied, “Gus told you.” A beat. “Did he mention that Mel and Lindz were going to some couple's retreat in West Virginia?”
Brian’s chest tightened slightly at the implications that little phrase brought up. Jesus. “And you're telling me this because?”
Reading the interest beneath the carefully neutral tone, Michael flopped into the seat opposite Brian’s desk. Eyes narrowing at the action, Brian remained silent; the sooner Michael worked through whatever the fuck he wanted, the sooner he would be out of his office.
“JR told me that she and Gus could hear them fighting all the time,” he continued before his eyes dropped to his hands. “She said Gus said ‘words were bullshit and that love was conditional.’”
Swallowing hard, Brian nodded, not willing to let Michael know just how much that little kernel of insight bothered him. “So the little one has finally seen the world for the truly ugly place it is, and what? You thought you'd come and lay into me since you can't get to my kid?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “No. I came here to tell you what I know…”
“And thought that I would willingly compare notes with you,” Brian interrupted, anger seeping through his tone which Michael seemed either oblivious or unwilling to recognize. "This isn’t high school we’re talking about, Michael,” Brian said, standing. His executive chair slid out from behind him and slammed into the wall.
Michael shivered at the look Brian sent his way.
“Don’t you think I get that,” Michael exclaimed, meeting Brian’s heated stare evenly. “I don’t expect you to do anything,” he replied pausing as he threaded a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s just…JR told us about stuff that’s been going on that has me really worried,” he continued, meeting Brian’s gaze with one that begged his old friend to hear him out.
“I'm not going to send my kid back to them until I have some fucking answers.”
Brian sighed, anger only slightly ebbing. “And thought what? You’d come to see if I had any of them. That I’d feed you tidbits about my kid so you could use them against him or the mommies? Sorry Mikey, but I'm fresh out.”
“I know Gus was in trouble. That’s not what I’m here about. I’m just worried about Mel and Lindz. The stuff JR’s been telling us,” Michael paused, shaking his head and looked down at his hands before asking, “Are you planning on keeping Gus, too?”
Brian eyed Michael suspiciously.
“I fail to see why I should answer your questions since you've shown shit all interest in my son for six years.
“In fact, I'd say that you and your mother have made it abundantly clear what your opinion of him is; you tried to kill him," Brian said, shaking his head to clear the memory.
His heartbeat increased, blood pulsing in his temples as the beginnings of a headache blossomed. There were no words to describe what he was feeling. Furious, no murderous at Michael's sudden appearance. Confused by the Mommies' lack of communication about their intentions. Scared for Gus' future.
Brian watched Michael blanch as he spoke. Quite frankly, he didn't give a shit if he hurt his former best friend's feelings or not. Michael might have been a good father to JR, but Brian's relationship to the man stopped there.
"I've let you and your mother and the fucking Munchers dig your claws into my son once too often. Now, get the fuck out of my office," Brian screamed, stalking across the office and opening the door completely.
Michael swallowed heavily before meeting Brian's heated stare. “It was wrong. What I did. I had no right to hurt Gus the way that I did.”
Brian’s jaw ticked in anger, blood pooling into his head as the migraine spread behind his eyes, blurring the vision.
“I know I should apologize to Gus, and I will,” Michael said, pausing to scratch his forehead. “I just heard that JR was hurt, and I couldn't see or think straight. I just kept thinking about how much they didn't get along and...” he trailed off, side-eyeing Brian, noting his stare was only slightly less venomous and the door, still wide open, had attracted a few eavesdroppers.
“I didn't realize things were as bad as they were. I mean it explains a lot,” he continued, eyes shifting back and forth in thought, hands moving as he spoke. “I mean JR didn't like to stay around the house when we visited. And she'd taken to acting up in school...”
Reading the sincerity in Michael’s words, hearing the worried tone he used to speak about JR, Brian felt something inside him shift. Even if he couldn’t forgive the man for his actions, he did understand the concern he was having because of the Munchers’ state of affairs.
Brian stepped away from the door letting it fall closed. “I didn't see it either,” he replied quietly. “At least not at first.”
Michael looked up with miserable expression.
“I know you and I aren't okay…that we might not ever be again,” he said, pausing to look up at Brian with pleading eyes, “But our kids are brother and sister. They deserve to see each other,” he paused once again, eyes following Brian as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk. For the first time since their visit began, Brian had visibly relaxed.
Sensing that Brian was finally willing to hear him out, Michael released a relieved sigh before continuing. “Before they signed in to that resort, they sent JR to stay with Ben and me,” he said, pausing, letting the information sink in. “We're going to stop in at the diner tomorrow for lunch,” he said, letting another, longer pause pass before adding, “Maybe you and Gus could stop by?”
Brian affixed a heated stare on Michael, judging his sincerity. There were a lot of things Michael might be willing to do but using his daughter as a pawn wasn't one of them.
Sensing Brian’s reluctance, Michael quickly added, “We don't have to sit with you; JR and Gus could sit at their own booth...It's just...I want things to be right with them.”
Brian, lips thinned, still eyeing Michael, nodded slightly. “Yeah. I think Gus'd like that,” he responded quietly, smiling a little at the olive branch Michael was offering.
Without another word, Michael smiled a little, stood, and left Kinnetik.
Long after the glass door clicked closed behind Michael, Brian sat on the edge of his desk as he processed the information Michael had just given him.
Slowly, he stood and made his way to his chair.
Ad campaign long forgotten, he sat, drumming his fingers on his desk once, twice before his hand fell on his mouse.
Right clicking on the start menu, he opened up a word document he swore he’d never actually use.
The cursor blinked for a long moment beside the title before he took any action. This would change everything if he used it.
Closing his eyes, he thought of the little boy that clung to him in the airport, begging him not to make him go back…and to the evening Gus arrived back in Pittsburgh a few weeks before. He’d sworn to himself and to Justin he wouldn’t send his kid back this time.
Fingers flying across the keyboard in rapid patterns, names, dates, and events were added to the long list. It was nearly two hours later that he sat back, releasing a sigh as he drew his fingertips across tired eyes. Hitting the save button, he swerved in his chair, tugged the desk drawer open and rummaged around for a card he'd been given some time ago.
His fingertips came to rest on the raised, black text of the grey business card. Lips thinning, he considered, blinking slowly from the screen to the card to the chair Michael was just in to the framed picture of Gus on his desk.
Mind made up, he picked up the handset and dialed the number on the card: Austin Burdette, Child Custody Law.
. . . . .
The lights around the ring were low. Only a few, uncovered light bulbs dangled from the ceiling casting an unnatural yellow glow around the room.
His knuckles and wrists, wrapped in tape, were bruised, bleeding, and aching, but he didn’t stop.
His opponent’s fist flew towards his face, but Gus raised his forearm, blocking the attack.
“Again,” Justin prompted, moving towards Gus’ left.
Another fist flew towards him. This time, Gus saw it coming; Justin dropped his shoulder slightly.
Feigning left, he ducked right and his father missed him completely.
“Good,” Justin replied, tone clipped as he lowered his hands to his sides. “Now, you’ve only got one thing left to learn.”
Gus followed suit, dropping his defensive posture and shaking out the pain. A hand reached for his brow, wiping the sweat pooling there before it fell into his eyes.
“And what might that be,” he asked.
Justin stood, looking from his son’s determined stare to the bruises forming around Gus’ neck. The ones David Entes had inflicted. Swallowing hard at what they represented, he met Gus’ stare evenly.
This was something that Cody hadn’t taught him. In fact, it took years for him to make peace with it…
“If someone hates you enough, you’ll never stop fighting with them,” Justin said, pausing. “You’ve just got to learn to deal with what’s happened so that you can move on.”
Maybe Gus wouldn’t understand it then, but he would someday.
Twenty Four - Hope
Thanks to shadownyc for taking on this monster and betaing it!
Sydney Alexis
Twenty Three - Paradigm
[Age: 16]
Justin had this freakish obsession with grocery shopping wherein he played the destitute student that only shopped on Double Coupon Thursday and always came armed with said coupons. Brian found it amusing when he didn't actually have to participate, and Gus...well...at first he thought it was embarrassing as hell. Now, he just found it annoying.
Double Coupon Thursday brought out two types of people--the penny-pinching grannies and the moms with so many kids they don't know what to do. Both groups would club you to death with their purses for the last, un-dented can of tomato paste.
It truly was Wild Kingdom, but, it made Justin happy, so Gus was stuck on grocery shopping duty with his Pops.
To be honest, if there was a way to weasel out of it, Gus would have tried, but the terms of his parole were clear--community service, computer access only by supervision and only for schoolwork, therapy as requested by his doctor, random drug testing, tutoring twice a week until school term over, and, his personal favorite, he couldn't be out of his parents' sight for more than two hours at a time.
Which was why he was at Bloomfield Foodland at 9am on a Thursday, surrounded by grannies and screaming children, pushing a buggy that pulled to the left.
Gus side-eyed Justin as he checked off items from the list. Everything about these shopping trips was freakishly organized, too. There was a System. They'd always start in the middle of the store with the heavy items--canned goods, booze, soda--and then move to the freezer section to fill in meats and cheeses before going to the more perishable/easily squished items like fruits and breads.
Yes, Justin had a system, and, when the market moved anything, there was always that five second queen out when the carefully figured map in his head went awry. It was actually comical to watch -- the slow blink as he processed the change, the scratching at the back of the head, followed closely by looking down at the list again.
Of course, the Powers got even with Gus for so many things. Finding this amusing among them. Because, no sooner had he pushed the buggy into the produce section then he spotted Debbie. Groaning, he stopped at the end of the aisle.
"I'm gonna go try and find that thing you were looking for back in the cereal aisle," Gus said, pointing over his shoulder, but, of course, Debbie had to use that moment to look up and spot Justin. Which was quickly followed by...
"Sunshine!"
And her rapid approach. That is until she finally noticed...
"Gus." Tone so carefully neutral it was almost amusing.
The snap of gum, a pointed acrylic nail, and a disapproving look later, Gus was shifting from foot to foot before standing up tall behind the buggy. At 6'5" he knew he looked menacing as shit when he wasn't slouching.
"What the fuck's he doing here," she asked, pinning Justin with a stare that let him know she'd keep at the subject until she found out.
"Let's see...produce, shopping cart...I'm thinking clog dancing," Gus quipped, fingers wrapping a little tighter around the handle.
"Still a sassy little shit, I see."
Gus rolled his eyes. "Well, as the school guidance councilor always told me, it's best to find what one is good at and focus their energies there."
Justin licked his lips to avoid laughing, which just made Gus' sarcastic smile inch into an easier one.
It was Deb's turn to roll her eyes.
"I mean in the grocery store in the middle of a school day," she explained before adding, "Although I might pay good money to see you clog dance. You know, with those cute little shoes."
Gus' eyes flickered to hers, confusion spreading across his face. Had she just said something nice to him?
Smirking, Gus replied, "Well...if anyone could pull them off as a fashion accessory, it'd be a queer."
Deb snapped her gum again and laughed. "Like father, like son," she said, tone light.
Gus shrugged, "Nothing wrong with that."
"Just don't pick up his bad habits," she said, smile a little forced.
Justin felt Gus bristle behind him, and he knew his time was running thin. Before he could intervene, however, Gus chimed in.
"No. We wouldn't want me to grow up and use my skills to make myself a financially independent businessman who owns his own company."
"That's not what I meant and you fucking well know it," she said, staring him down angrily with her hands and on hips. It was a stance Justin recognized well--one usually directed at Brian.
"I just want to be sure that you're being careful. That you won't do anything stupid while you're on probation," she said, watching Gus' momentarily shocked look school itself into neutrality.
"JR told us you've been getting into trouble," she explained, voice and expression softening with something akin to pity.
"Fucking little twat," Gus breathed.
"Not that I'd say it's a surprise with all that other shit going on..."
Gus' eyes shot up from the buggy's contents to Debbie's again as he searched her face, growing even angrier at the knowing look there. The whoosh-thud of his heart picked up as barely controlled fury surged through his body.
JR never did know when to keep her big mouth shut. Like he needed more shit from the Novotny clan.
Clenching his hands around the handle of the shopping cart to keep himself from doing anything stupid, he finally tuned back in to what she was blathering on about.
"But you've got to learn to control your temper..."
Eyes narrowing, Gus stared her down. "Funny that you should be offering me advice after ignoring the fact that I exist for six years," he said, pausing to let the words sink in. "And I kept my mouth shut for JR's sake, but I'm not about to let you bad mouth me or Dad this time around."
"I'm not putting down either of you. I'm just saying I saw the shit that your Dad went through when he was a kid...I just don't want you to repeat his mistakes so you don't end up going through all the fucking drama he did."
The expression Gus gave her was so hard it made her visibly shiver. "My father might have made mistakes, he might have been through hell as a kid, and, yes, he has his addictions, but all of that led him to the path he's on now. It made him strong enough to survive cancer and crazy enough to gamble everything on stopping Stockwell, and it put him on the path to meeting Justin. I don't think he regrets any of those things for an instant. So you'll have to excuse me if I don't give a shit what you have to say."
Offering another hard stare to Deb, Gus turned the shopping cart towards the checkouts despite the fact that they still needed garlic, carrots, and green apples.
And, to be perfectly honest, he was a little surprised to hear his Pops harshly whisper to Deb, "Just leave him alone, Deb; he's got enough shit going on in his life," before catching up to him.
While unloading the cart, Gus looked up at his father and said, "You do realize she's just going to call the moms and stir up shit over this."
Mouth in a tight line, Justin added the bottles of Beam and JD to the conveyor.
"Yeah."
"So what's my punishment? No computer time whatsoever? Tacking on more community service?" Gus asked, adding forty-billion boxes of condoms to the check out lane while actively not thinking about the fact that his fathers would go through said condoms.
Justin paused and looked up at Gus with that hard set jaw and eyes he'd get when they were practicing in the boxing ring.
"No one has the right to make you feel like shit. Family included."
Gus nodded, pushing more things around on the conveyor to make room for the rest of their crap.
"Does that mean you're not going to queen out for yelling at Debbie that way?"
Handing the cashier his pile of coupons, Justin looked at his kid with a sad smile.
"Contrary to what she may think, you're smart enough to understand that, sometimes, you have to stand up for yourself.”
Nodding, Gus watched Justin eyeing the bag boy suspiciously. God save the man that loaded bags into the cart incorrectly. Yet another one of Justin's freakish obsessions.
"It's just...you know...I'm like this black sheep of the family, and, with all the shit that went down, they might totally not let me see JR when she's here. Not that they would have before but," Gus trailed off, scrunching up his nose in thought. "I mean what if I have to wait until she's 18...or what if I have to go all scary stalker just to see her, you know?"
Justin gripped the grocery list in his hand a little harder than he intended because, yes, he did know; there were whole months he didn't get to see Molly after his father threw him out of the house. And, yes, she was going through her annoying, bratty little sister phase, but he still wanted to see her every once in awhile.
Meeting his kid's stare, Justin said, "I promise your dad and I will do everything we can to make sure you see her."
And, even with the resolve in his voice, they both knew there was only so much Justin and Brian could do in this case.
. . . . .
His anger was palpable as the glass door to his office flew open, marking Brian’s own invasion from the Novotny tribe with Cynthia hot on his tail.
"I'm so sorry, Brian. I was in the middle of confirming the Brown meeting, and he walked right past me," she explained, watching Brian's reaction carefully to gauge whether or not to call security.
"Michael! To what do I owe the displeasure," Brian asked, voice filled with faux-sincerity as he watched his former best friend edge into his office and Cynthia out, closing the door behind her.
Ignoring the barb, Michael stood behind one of Brian's client chairs, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
"Did you know Mel and Lindsay were having problems," he asked in a hurried tone.
Keeping his face neutral despite how much hearing the accusatory tone pissed him off, Brian continued staring Michael down for a long moment. Like Michael couldn't have spoken to the Munchers himself instead of darkening his office's door.
"Let me guess; they finally confessed to Father Mikey," he spat.
“You knew,” he replied tone less than surprised.
“Why yes, Michael. I used my amazing ability to read minds,” Brian deadpanned, smoothing down his tie. The truth was that the distance between Mel and Lindz had been there if anyone had bothered to notice it. Not that Brian was going to point out that little tidbit; he didn’t feel like dealing with the outburst Michael would no doubt have at the insinuation.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Michael nodded to himself and replied, “Gus told you.” A beat. “Did he mention that Mel and Lindz were going to some couple's retreat in West Virginia?”
Brian’s chest tightened slightly at the implications that little phrase brought up. Jesus. “And you're telling me this because?”
Reading the interest beneath the carefully neutral tone, Michael flopped into the seat opposite Brian’s desk. Eyes narrowing at the action, Brian remained silent; the sooner Michael worked through whatever the fuck he wanted, the sooner he would be out of his office.
“JR told me that she and Gus could hear them fighting all the time,” he continued before his eyes dropped to his hands. “She said Gus said ‘words were bullshit and that love was conditional.’”
Swallowing hard, Brian nodded, not willing to let Michael know just how much that little kernel of insight bothered him. “So the little one has finally seen the world for the truly ugly place it is, and what? You thought you'd come and lay into me since you can't get to my kid?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “No. I came here to tell you what I know…”
“And thought that I would willingly compare notes with you,” Brian interrupted, anger seeping through his tone which Michael seemed either oblivious or unwilling to recognize. "This isn’t high school we’re talking about, Michael,” Brian said, standing. His executive chair slid out from behind him and slammed into the wall.
Michael shivered at the look Brian sent his way.
“Don’t you think I get that,” Michael exclaimed, meeting Brian’s heated stare evenly. “I don’t expect you to do anything,” he replied pausing as he threaded a shaky hand through his hair. “It’s just…JR told us about stuff that’s been going on that has me really worried,” he continued, meeting Brian’s gaze with one that begged his old friend to hear him out.
“I'm not going to send my kid back to them until I have some fucking answers.”
Brian sighed, anger only slightly ebbing. “And thought what? You’d come to see if I had any of them. That I’d feed you tidbits about my kid so you could use them against him or the mommies? Sorry Mikey, but I'm fresh out.”
“I know Gus was in trouble. That’s not what I’m here about. I’m just worried about Mel and Lindz. The stuff JR’s been telling us,” Michael paused, shaking his head and looked down at his hands before asking, “Are you planning on keeping Gus, too?”
Brian eyed Michael suspiciously.
“I fail to see why I should answer your questions since you've shown shit all interest in my son for six years.
“In fact, I'd say that you and your mother have made it abundantly clear what your opinion of him is; you tried to kill him," Brian said, shaking his head to clear the memory.
His heartbeat increased, blood pulsing in his temples as the beginnings of a headache blossomed. There were no words to describe what he was feeling. Furious, no murderous at Michael's sudden appearance. Confused by the Mommies' lack of communication about their intentions. Scared for Gus' future.
Brian watched Michael blanch as he spoke. Quite frankly, he didn't give a shit if he hurt his former best friend's feelings or not. Michael might have been a good father to JR, but Brian's relationship to the man stopped there.
"I've let you and your mother and the fucking Munchers dig your claws into my son once too often. Now, get the fuck out of my office," Brian screamed, stalking across the office and opening the door completely.
Michael swallowed heavily before meeting Brian's heated stare. “It was wrong. What I did. I had no right to hurt Gus the way that I did.”
Brian’s jaw ticked in anger, blood pooling into his head as the migraine spread behind his eyes, blurring the vision.
“I know I should apologize to Gus, and I will,” Michael said, pausing to scratch his forehead. “I just heard that JR was hurt, and I couldn't see or think straight. I just kept thinking about how much they didn't get along and...” he trailed off, side-eyeing Brian, noting his stare was only slightly less venomous and the door, still wide open, had attracted a few eavesdroppers.
“I didn't realize things were as bad as they were. I mean it explains a lot,” he continued, eyes shifting back and forth in thought, hands moving as he spoke. “I mean JR didn't like to stay around the house when we visited. And she'd taken to acting up in school...”
Reading the sincerity in Michael’s words, hearing the worried tone he used to speak about JR, Brian felt something inside him shift. Even if he couldn’t forgive the man for his actions, he did understand the concern he was having because of the Munchers’ state of affairs.
Brian stepped away from the door letting it fall closed. “I didn't see it either,” he replied quietly. “At least not at first.”
Michael looked up with miserable expression.
“I know you and I aren't okay…that we might not ever be again,” he said, pausing to look up at Brian with pleading eyes, “But our kids are brother and sister. They deserve to see each other,” he paused once again, eyes following Brian as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk. For the first time since their visit began, Brian had visibly relaxed.
Sensing that Brian was finally willing to hear him out, Michael released a relieved sigh before continuing. “Before they signed in to that resort, they sent JR to stay with Ben and me,” he said, pausing, letting the information sink in. “We're going to stop in at the diner tomorrow for lunch,” he said, letting another, longer pause pass before adding, “Maybe you and Gus could stop by?”
Brian affixed a heated stare on Michael, judging his sincerity. There were a lot of things Michael might be willing to do but using his daughter as a pawn wasn't one of them.
Sensing Brian’s reluctance, Michael quickly added, “We don't have to sit with you; JR and Gus could sit at their own booth...It's just...I want things to be right with them.”
Brian, lips thinned, still eyeing Michael, nodded slightly. “Yeah. I think Gus'd like that,” he responded quietly, smiling a little at the olive branch Michael was offering.
Without another word, Michael smiled a little, stood, and left Kinnetik.
Long after the glass door clicked closed behind Michael, Brian sat on the edge of his desk as he processed the information Michael had just given him.
Slowly, he stood and made his way to his chair.
Ad campaign long forgotten, he sat, drumming his fingers on his desk once, twice before his hand fell on his mouse.
Right clicking on the start menu, he opened up a word document he swore he’d never actually use.
The cursor blinked for a long moment beside the title before he took any action. This would change everything if he used it.
Closing his eyes, he thought of the little boy that clung to him in the airport, begging him not to make him go back…and to the evening Gus arrived back in Pittsburgh a few weeks before. He’d sworn to himself and to Justin he wouldn’t send his kid back this time.
Fingers flying across the keyboard in rapid patterns, names, dates, and events were added to the long list. It was nearly two hours later that he sat back, releasing a sigh as he drew his fingertips across tired eyes. Hitting the save button, he swerved in his chair, tugged the desk drawer open and rummaged around for a card he'd been given some time ago.
His fingertips came to rest on the raised, black text of the grey business card. Lips thinning, he considered, blinking slowly from the screen to the card to the chair Michael was just in to the framed picture of Gus on his desk.
Mind made up, he picked up the handset and dialed the number on the card: Austin Burdette, Child Custody Law.
. . . . .
The lights around the ring were low. Only a few, uncovered light bulbs dangled from the ceiling casting an unnatural yellow glow around the room.
His knuckles and wrists, wrapped in tape, were bruised, bleeding, and aching, but he didn’t stop.
His opponent’s fist flew towards his face, but Gus raised his forearm, blocking the attack.
“Again,” Justin prompted, moving towards Gus’ left.
Another fist flew towards him. This time, Gus saw it coming; Justin dropped his shoulder slightly.
Feigning left, he ducked right and his father missed him completely.
“Good,” Justin replied, tone clipped as he lowered his hands to his sides. “Now, you’ve only got one thing left to learn.”
Gus followed suit, dropping his defensive posture and shaking out the pain. A hand reached for his brow, wiping the sweat pooling there before it fell into his eyes.
“And what might that be,” he asked.
Justin stood, looking from his son’s determined stare to the bruises forming around Gus’ neck. The ones David Entes had inflicted. Swallowing hard at what they represented, he met Gus’ stare evenly.
This was something that Cody hadn’t taught him. In fact, it took years for him to make peace with it…
“If someone hates you enough, you’ll never stop fighting with them,” Justin said, pausing. “You’ve just got to learn to deal with what’s happened so that you can move on.”
Maybe Gus wouldn’t understand it then, but he would someday.
Twenty Four - Hope
Thanks to shadownyc for taking on this monster and betaing it!