The match-makers in Heaven, oh they’ve got a one track mind [so in our case I don’t think they mind]
Title: The match-makers in Heaven, oh they’ve got a one track mind [so in our case I don’t think they mind]
Author: RaeLouise
Pairing: Joe/Nick as brothers, mentions of Camilla/Joe
Rating: PG:13
Disclaimer: I most definitely do not own Joe or Nick Jonas and to the best of my knowledge this did not happen, to an extent at least- I'd like to think Nick's been there for Joe. Title and cut belong to Taking Back Sunday [seeing them for the tenth time in a few days *spasm*].
Summary: The first part is the memory of special day the two spent together as children. The second part revolves around Nick comforting Joe after his break up with Camilla. There are reflections throughout.
“I love you,” Joe says- and it’s not exactly unusual, it’s a family ritual to say it nightly before they all slope off to bed, but without their Mom around to remind them- when neither of them are clutching a toothbrush or pulling on their pyjamas- it seems so different. When it’s just Nick, Joe, uneven breathing and the watch of huge trees; tall grasses tickling them where in some cases it’s long enough to touch just below their t-shirt sleeves.
Warnings: I feel that since this is fluffy enough to induce tooth ache, I should warn about that.
Dedications: lovejimmywilly & severus_falter for being my fandom friends. I hope that you guys like this. It’s a little different for me.
“Nicholas, we’re going on an adventure,” Joe announces grandly, with a flourish of his arm before he has to hoist his stuffed backpack back up over one skinny shoulder. Leaning against Nick’s bedroom door frame, he’s wearing an especially toothy smile and bouncing on the soles of his fire truck red sneakers; a little boy absolutely brimming with buzzing, jittery excitement.
It only takes Nick a moment to agree, to hop up from his seat at his desk and hurriedly push his feet into his own shoes. Joe’s mood is always so contagious, at such extremes that you can’t help but absorb the excess. Nick is Joe’s favourite sponge.
“Do I need a jacket?”
Nick takes the roll of Joe’s eyes as a ‘no’ and so, once he’s knotted his trailing [pristine white] laces, he’s at his side. Joe ruffles Nick’s hair as he yells to their Mom that they’re going to knock for Adam, but that they’ll be back in time for dinner, and then they’re running from the front door. Joe’s hand, fingers laced through Nick’s, drags Nick in the wrong direction but Nick doesn’t bother to argue, he just lets Joe’s hand go so that he can pump his seven year old legs even faster. As per usual, soon enough it’s a race, neck and neck with the both of them spluttering for air as they laugh and attempt to move faster than the cars on the road to their right, sneakers slapping against the sun-baked sidewalk.
They come to a sudden halt at the busy road at the bottom of their block, bustling with mid-afternoon traffic. Joe takes Nick’s hand again, little fists fiercely intertwined, and they look from the left to the right, and then at Nick’s insistence, back again, before they cross at a jog and head downhill towards their local park. The sun is high in the sky, barely having dipped since midday, and the honey light is scattered, rippling through shadows and canopies of crowded leaves and twisting branches above the two boys. Nick points out interesting shapes to Joe and Joe makes shadow puppets, puppies and bouncing bunnies, for his little brother amongst the leaf patterns on the floor before they reach wrought iron gates.
“Wanna go on the swings?”
Nick nods and he watches Joe, waits for him to shimmy onto a swing and throw a quirked eyebrow at his little brother. Nicholas goes a little coy, shuffles over and heaves himself up into Joe’s lap- hands fisted below his on the cold chain. Joe makes an unf sound but then he rubs his nose in Nick’s thick hair and kicks off, toe to heel against the grass, scooping up air, bending his legs at the knee, to propel them up towards the placid blue sky.
“I brought cookies and apple juice,” Joe sing songs happily, watching the way Nick points his toes exactly like he does his own- the clouds their targets as they tilt backwards to gain more height, more speed. He can feel his own smile reaching the apples of his cheeks.
“Is that dinner, then?” Nick squeals when it seems as though they could almost do a three sixty, right over the top bar- loop the loop. He nestles deeper into Joe, one hand darting up to grip Joe’s wrist. Nick’s a lot more scared of toppling off of the swing than he was about lying to his Mom about where they were headed.
“Yup, that and grapes!”
They eat their dinner away from the play park towards a thicket of mountainous trees, the area so over grown they’re almost hidden within masses of golden beige, dead grass and little bristles tickling at their bare arms. Joe lays everything out on his purple fleece blanket, seedless green grapes and home baked crumbly oatmeal cookies, a six pack of juice boxes. It’s almost like a family picnic [other than the fact that there’s no one to yell at him when he throws grapes into the air and only manages to catch one out of five, the others being ‘left for the birds’]. He helps Nick stab his striped straw through the foil on his carton and he splits his last cookie with him, managing not too pout to much as he snaps it into two.
“You kept the biggest half!” Nick shrieks but Joe just pokes out his tongue before he shoves it into his mouth whole; simply rolling through the dry grass with Nick when he jumps at him- all flailing limbs and such a boyish seven year old grin- “Yeeeha!”
Their giggling is exuberant, enough to spook the birds hidden in their nests as they tousle; clumsy arms and heels hammering against the ground as they attempt to buck each other off. It seems as though they’re about to let it die down when Nick steals Joe’s glasses and scrambles to his feet, almost stumbling before he manages to jet off with a head start, waving them behind him as he disappears behind a fat old oak. Joe is never far behind though, calling his little brother’s name, half laughing, half screaming and squinting to sharpen his surroundings as they blur. The light looks awesome when his vision’s less than perfect- it spills over everything as it smears green, yellow, antique brown- the flash of red that‘s his own shoes, a liquid glow- but he gets dizzy, too.
“Nicholassss!” He whines, jumping up to curl his hands around a particularly thick oak branch. He hangs like a monkey, swaying just a little with his toes skimming the mud beneath, “Give me themmm back!”
Nick runs the circumference of the tree just one more time before he stops, bent double to catch his breath and Joe leaps down awkwardly. He lands on his knees, dirtying his jeans and grazing his palms, but he barely squeaks. Once he’s back on his feet he lunges as Nick and snatches back his glasses, shoves them on before he wraps Nick in a tight brotherly hug. Nick wraps his arms around Joe’s middle in return and squeezes back, silently thanking God because nobody else he knows has such a fun big brother. Not even Joe with Kevin.
“I love you,” Joe says- and it’s not exactly unusual, it’s a family ritual to say it nightly before they all slope off to bed, but without their Mom around to remind them- when neither of them are clutching a toothbrush or pulling on their pyjamas- it seems so different. When it’s just Nick, Joe, uneven breathing and the watch of huge trees; tall grasses tickling them where in some cases it’s long enough to touch just below their t-shirt sleeves.
“I love you too,” Nick murmurs, so wide eyed and little boy earnest. He loves Joe most of all, he doesn’t even care if the boys in peewee soccer would think that terribly uncool.
Joe pauses and then laughs too loud, almost nervous. He wraps one bony arm around Nick’s neck and gives his little brother a noogie with his free hand as if to pull the lull of the moment back to something more familiar. Nick stamps on Joe’s foot and shouts and squirms when Joe pulls together all of his might to pick Nick up awkwardly and half-drag him back to their blanket.
Again they fall down together, tangled up in knots like a daisy chain. They barely play-fight for a split second. Then they lay perfectly still, the first sign of the evening’s breeze washing over them- cooling them. Their t-shirt are sticky with sweat against their backs, a hot flush burning over their cheeks and the bridge of Nick’s nose and they both reach for a second apple juice [Joe piercing the straw through his little brother’s for him again]. Mostly they‘re quiet except for their slurping, except for them shifting against the blanket- finding planes of flat ground away from creeping tree roots, finding each other.
“Mommy’ll be worried,” Nick mumbles eventually, sounding nervous, adorable.
Joe kicks up his feet again, like when they were together on the same swing, and frowns at his knees- “I’m all muddy.”
“Don’t you think we should go back?”
Joe tugs the straw from his carton and squeezes the last of his apple juice, just a dribble, right onto his outstretched tongue- “Shall we go explore more?”
He starts to stuff their trash back into his bag and then, with a thoughtful little smile, gestures for Nick to stand. Nick does so, hands all fidgety, and Joe wraps the blanket around his slender shoulders like a super hero’s cape, knotting it under his chin. The blanket pools at Nick’s feet but he looks so proud- all thoughts of home forgotten as he spins to watch the purple whirl. Joe knows, in the back of his mind, that the delay will only get them into more trouble, but Nick keeps spinning, holding the blanket with his outstretched little arms, and for that it’s worth it.
“C’mon,” Joe says softly and they push on further through the thick, crackling grass.
Joe seeks out paths where the growths already downtrodden, pretty blooms shooting up wherever the grass has managed to stay lush and green, butterflies lifted aloft on the current of the five pm wind. Joe tugs at the grass with a loose fist, smiling as it strokes his palm, and Nick chants ‘nanananana bat man!’, never much more than a few footfalls behind him. Joe keeps chuckling lazily and turning back to smile at Nick and if Nick’s not concentrating hard on hopping on one leg or eyeing the path of a passing bumble bee, he smiles too. He’s only seven but already he’s started to ration the sort of smiles where you can see each of his little uneven teeth and he saves the most heart stopping for Joe.
As it gets later it gets cooler and goose bumps rise up on their bare arms, whisper over the backs of their necks where their dark hair half-curls into their napes. Still, they sun stays out and so they barely notice the time, just watch it, a solid peach in the sky. Joe decides that they don’t have to be home until there’s a moon hanging like a paper lantern in it’s place, until the sky goes from orange to purple. They can keep wandering and dragging their fingertips over the rough bark of the trees they pass, not having to make even idle conversation to enjoy each other‘s company, in a way that most boys their age wouldn‘t have the attention span to understand [even Joe‘s surprised that‘s managing it]. But then Nick yawns-
“Joey,” He whispers and Joe stops. Nick doesn’t quite follow his lead in time and he ends up falling against him, a hint of a purr as he rests his cheek against Joe’s back. His head feels heavy, his brown eyes too. “Home?”
Joe bites his lower lip, worrying it without letting Nick see before he nods. He turns back on himself, arm immediately around Nick’s little shoulders. Nick slumps against Joe but Joe doesn’t mind, just carries Nick slight weight as drags his feet through the dirt and hides a few stuttering yawns of his own. His arm holding up his backpack starts to ache but he enjoys the burn, sort of, enjoys the last balmy threads of their adventure. The last pastel coloured shades of the day.
They wind around the oak tree Joe dangled from and then they pass the swing set before they’re through the mammoth gates. There are more shadows than sun spots this time, the black patterns the leaves and crooked branches leave on the sidewalk a little creepy. Nick pushes right into the nook of Joe’s arm pit and Joe feels panic rising in his chest, knowing that they’re not moving as quickly as they should be. He squeezes Nick’s upper arm as they reach the main road and barely looks left, never mind right, before he has his little brother run right across. They narrowly miss a speeding bicyclist, which makes them both scream and Joe feels guilty, especially when he realises that Nick is trembling. It’s then that Joe remembers that Nick’s pretty tiny- that he’s still the baby.
“Boys!” Denise Jonas is quick as lightening when she needs to be, the little heels of her boots clicking against the sidewalk as she races down to where they’ve come to a shaky stop on the corner, “Boys! Oh Jesus, my boys! Where have you been? Kevin and Daddy are out looking- I’ve had Adam’s Mother driving around, I was this close to phoning the police- oh my boys!” She pulls them both into her chest, lifting Nick right off of his feet so that he has to snap his legs around her hips as she smothers them both in kisses- her cheeks soggy with tears.
She keeps kissing them as she marches them back towards their house, hugging them tight enough to leave bruises. Every so often she sounds so angry Joe’s almost frightened, until the growl in her voice cracks and gives way to relief yet again. She keeps rambling about their safety, about strangers and bad men and worst caste scenarios whilst Nick lets his eyes close and Joe almost drops his bag. It slides right off of his arm but he just pulls it by the strap, not caring it scuffs. He’s drooping all over, heavy with guilt. He feels as gloomy as a rain cloud and hot tears keep threatening to spill from his tired eyes but he forces them back, grits his teeth instead. He listens to his Mother’s prayers, despite the fact that she’s got them back in her arms.
At least, Joe manages to bite back the tears until he feels a gentle pudgy hand in his hair. He glances up to find Nick smiling, with teeth, for him from beneath their mother’s chin. Ridiculously perceptive for a child, with such an intensely loving warmth in his drowsy eyes, Nick mouths that it’s going to be okay, and then, as his smile shies, he adds a ‘thank you’.
*********
“Love you, Nicky,” Joe murmurs, distant and dejected, as he shrugs off his too-big grey hoodie. He drags his tongue over the minty teeth of his taste and lays his glasses on the bedside table, flicking the switch on the lamp before he slides down beneath the scratchy hotel bed comforter. It’s really not very comforting at all, rather it’s cold and over starched.
It’s when he lets his mind wander to his old purple blanket, which still lays on his bed back home, that he feels all of his strength drain away to be replaced by a fresh wave of heavy tears. There’s nothing pretty about the way the salt burns and his choked sobs make him cough, dry heave hopelessly. He has to sit up as he tries to calm himself, one hand knotted in his heavy hair, the other palm pushing at the top of the bridge of his nose. It does nothing to stem the flow, but it staves off a brain-splitting headache.
“Joey?” Nick hovers, arms aching to wrap around Joe but not knowing if it’s the right thing to do- “Joe… man?” The younger boy drops down to his knees, one elbow resting on the mattress beside Joe, his other hand brushing over his brother’s rigid side.
Joe relaxes, barely, but he does. Nick knows him well enough to feel the way his muscles go slightly slack beneath his palm.
“Joe, need a hug?” Nick whispers, trying in vain to sound somewhat gruff. He’s not sure why but at that moment he gets a fleeting memory of one of Joe’s noogies and it’s the oddest thing but it make the hug he gives Joe, when he leans in towards him gratefully, that much more fierce.
“I love her, Nicholas. I do. I really do love her, I thought, fuck it’s so stupid but I thought we were forever- you know?”
Nick nods wordlessly, letting Joe rant against his shoulder, feeling him gulp and shudder and sob though now his crying seems to have run dry. It’s evident from his bones to the pools of his eyes- devastation.
“I thought… I thought I was an adult this time, that it was gonna last and we’d be married and… grow old and… all that stuff. Was always thinking about that stuff, Nicky. I’m such a fucking fool. I kept imagining a big beautiful house in Brazil, the décor that she’d love… the Portuguese music at the wedding reception.”
Nick scowls, feeling anger bubble up in his chest- no, the very pit of his stomach. He wants to avenge all of Joe’s lost dreams.
“She’s the fool, Joe.” He insists but Joe shakes his head, fists his hands in Nick’s baggy t-shirt-
“No… Nick. I… can’t, I can’t blame her or whatever… For this. I just. I don’t want it to be true, I don’t want to have to hate her. Not yet.” He pauses, breathes in deep, and Nick feels him shake his head again, more slowly- “Not ever, Nick.”
“Kay,” Nick mumbles because this is the most broken he’s ever seen Joe, and he didn’t have time to step back and figure out a plan yet. He wants to escape and ring Kevin but he doubts that Joe wants the whole family padding into their shared room to gawp, “Maybe… do you wanna sleep?”
Joe nods half heartedly- “Maybe. I think so. I mean, yeah.”
Nick settles down, lifting the covers so that he can slip beside in flush beside Joe. He arches his arm high on the pillow and Joe snuggles deep, right into his armpit. His breathing is still shaky and with one of Joe’s hand over Nick’s heart, the steady beat of it, and one limp between their twinned heat, Nick can’t help but notice that his big brother seems so small. His cheeks are raw, tear stained, and his lip’s swollen from his teeth having chewed over it- even his hair seems limp, lifeless. Watching him trying to calm down, Nick thinks back to when their biggest troubles stemmed from not finding their way home before dark and how much better that was for all of them, for Joe and his huge heart and his adventures which he’s too passionate about to ever think through thoroughly enough.
Nick’s bitter enough to regret leaving Jersey and the childish familiarity of the play park for those few moments. If they hadn’t of found fame, if he hadn’t of demanded that Camilla appear in the video for one of their acclaimed videos…
With one hand entangled in Joe’s hair Nick can do nothing but repeat that it’s going to be okay, with more conviction once he’s said it at least ten times. His voice is as strong as he can manage, loud and clear above the haze of the late hour and Joe’s arduous pain-
“I promise Joe, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna stick together and… and we’re gonna pray and just, tomorrow the sun’s gonna be huge just for you, you’ll see.”
He pets Joe’s hair, catching the curls within his fingers, smoothing the strands with the pad of his thumb and he’s gentle enough, sincere enough, to rouse the suggestion of a smile from Joe. It’s like flying towards the clouds, makes Nick feel like a super hero, as weak as it is.
“Got you,” Joe mumbles, into the warm cotton of Joe’s shirt- “Got you, Nicholas, thank you.”
And Nick just says that it’s no problem, just keeps stroking Joe’s hair until he’s one hundred percent sure that his big brother’s managed to find sleep.
Author: RaeLouise
Pairing: Joe/Nick as brothers, mentions of Camilla/Joe
Rating: PG:13
Disclaimer: I most definitely do not own Joe or Nick Jonas and to the best of my knowledge this did not happen, to an extent at least- I'd like to think Nick's been there for Joe. Title and cut belong to Taking Back Sunday [seeing them for the tenth time in a few days *spasm*].
Summary: The first part is the memory of special day the two spent together as children. The second part revolves around Nick comforting Joe after his break up with Camilla. There are reflections throughout.
“I love you,” Joe says- and it’s not exactly unusual, it’s a family ritual to say it nightly before they all slope off to bed, but without their Mom around to remind them- when neither of them are clutching a toothbrush or pulling on their pyjamas- it seems so different. When it’s just Nick, Joe, uneven breathing and the watch of huge trees; tall grasses tickling them where in some cases it’s long enough to touch just below their t-shirt sleeves.
Warnings: I feel that since this is fluffy enough to induce tooth ache, I should warn about that.
Dedications: lovejimmywilly & severus_falter for being my fandom friends. I hope that you guys like this. It’s a little different for me.
“Nicholas, we’re going on an adventure,” Joe announces grandly, with a flourish of his arm before he has to hoist his stuffed backpack back up over one skinny shoulder. Leaning against Nick’s bedroom door frame, he’s wearing an especially toothy smile and bouncing on the soles of his fire truck red sneakers; a little boy absolutely brimming with buzzing, jittery excitement.
It only takes Nick a moment to agree, to hop up from his seat at his desk and hurriedly push his feet into his own shoes. Joe’s mood is always so contagious, at such extremes that you can’t help but absorb the excess. Nick is Joe’s favourite sponge.
“Do I need a jacket?”
Nick takes the roll of Joe’s eyes as a ‘no’ and so, once he’s knotted his trailing [pristine white] laces, he’s at his side. Joe ruffles Nick’s hair as he yells to their Mom that they’re going to knock for Adam, but that they’ll be back in time for dinner, and then they’re running from the front door. Joe’s hand, fingers laced through Nick’s, drags Nick in the wrong direction but Nick doesn’t bother to argue, he just lets Joe’s hand go so that he can pump his seven year old legs even faster. As per usual, soon enough it’s a race, neck and neck with the both of them spluttering for air as they laugh and attempt to move faster than the cars on the road to their right, sneakers slapping against the sun-baked sidewalk.
They come to a sudden halt at the busy road at the bottom of their block, bustling with mid-afternoon traffic. Joe takes Nick’s hand again, little fists fiercely intertwined, and they look from the left to the right, and then at Nick’s insistence, back again, before they cross at a jog and head downhill towards their local park. The sun is high in the sky, barely having dipped since midday, and the honey light is scattered, rippling through shadows and canopies of crowded leaves and twisting branches above the two boys. Nick points out interesting shapes to Joe and Joe makes shadow puppets, puppies and bouncing bunnies, for his little brother amongst the leaf patterns on the floor before they reach wrought iron gates.
“Wanna go on the swings?”
Nick nods and he watches Joe, waits for him to shimmy onto a swing and throw a quirked eyebrow at his little brother. Nicholas goes a little coy, shuffles over and heaves himself up into Joe’s lap- hands fisted below his on the cold chain. Joe makes an unf sound but then he rubs his nose in Nick’s thick hair and kicks off, toe to heel against the grass, scooping up air, bending his legs at the knee, to propel them up towards the placid blue sky.
“I brought cookies and apple juice,” Joe sing songs happily, watching the way Nick points his toes exactly like he does his own- the clouds their targets as they tilt backwards to gain more height, more speed. He can feel his own smile reaching the apples of his cheeks.
“Is that dinner, then?” Nick squeals when it seems as though they could almost do a three sixty, right over the top bar- loop the loop. He nestles deeper into Joe, one hand darting up to grip Joe’s wrist. Nick’s a lot more scared of toppling off of the swing than he was about lying to his Mom about where they were headed.
“Yup, that and grapes!”
They eat their dinner away from the play park towards a thicket of mountainous trees, the area so over grown they’re almost hidden within masses of golden beige, dead grass and little bristles tickling at their bare arms. Joe lays everything out on his purple fleece blanket, seedless green grapes and home baked crumbly oatmeal cookies, a six pack of juice boxes. It’s almost like a family picnic [other than the fact that there’s no one to yell at him when he throws grapes into the air and only manages to catch one out of five, the others being ‘left for the birds’]. He helps Nick stab his striped straw through the foil on his carton and he splits his last cookie with him, managing not too pout to much as he snaps it into two.
“You kept the biggest half!” Nick shrieks but Joe just pokes out his tongue before he shoves it into his mouth whole; simply rolling through the dry grass with Nick when he jumps at him- all flailing limbs and such a boyish seven year old grin- “Yeeeha!”
Their giggling is exuberant, enough to spook the birds hidden in their nests as they tousle; clumsy arms and heels hammering against the ground as they attempt to buck each other off. It seems as though they’re about to let it die down when Nick steals Joe’s glasses and scrambles to his feet, almost stumbling before he manages to jet off with a head start, waving them behind him as he disappears behind a fat old oak. Joe is never far behind though, calling his little brother’s name, half laughing, half screaming and squinting to sharpen his surroundings as they blur. The light looks awesome when his vision’s less than perfect- it spills over everything as it smears green, yellow, antique brown- the flash of red that‘s his own shoes, a liquid glow- but he gets dizzy, too.
“Nicholassss!” He whines, jumping up to curl his hands around a particularly thick oak branch. He hangs like a monkey, swaying just a little with his toes skimming the mud beneath, “Give me themmm back!”
Nick runs the circumference of the tree just one more time before he stops, bent double to catch his breath and Joe leaps down awkwardly. He lands on his knees, dirtying his jeans and grazing his palms, but he barely squeaks. Once he’s back on his feet he lunges as Nick and snatches back his glasses, shoves them on before he wraps Nick in a tight brotherly hug. Nick wraps his arms around Joe’s middle in return and squeezes back, silently thanking God because nobody else he knows has such a fun big brother. Not even Joe with Kevin.
“I love you,” Joe says- and it’s not exactly unusual, it’s a family ritual to say it nightly before they all slope off to bed, but without their Mom around to remind them- when neither of them are clutching a toothbrush or pulling on their pyjamas- it seems so different. When it’s just Nick, Joe, uneven breathing and the watch of huge trees; tall grasses tickling them where in some cases it’s long enough to touch just below their t-shirt sleeves.
“I love you too,” Nick murmurs, so wide eyed and little boy earnest. He loves Joe most of all, he doesn’t even care if the boys in peewee soccer would think that terribly uncool.
Joe pauses and then laughs too loud, almost nervous. He wraps one bony arm around Nick’s neck and gives his little brother a noogie with his free hand as if to pull the lull of the moment back to something more familiar. Nick stamps on Joe’s foot and shouts and squirms when Joe pulls together all of his might to pick Nick up awkwardly and half-drag him back to their blanket.
Again they fall down together, tangled up in knots like a daisy chain. They barely play-fight for a split second. Then they lay perfectly still, the first sign of the evening’s breeze washing over them- cooling them. Their t-shirt are sticky with sweat against their backs, a hot flush burning over their cheeks and the bridge of Nick’s nose and they both reach for a second apple juice [Joe piercing the straw through his little brother’s for him again]. Mostly they‘re quiet except for their slurping, except for them shifting against the blanket- finding planes of flat ground away from creeping tree roots, finding each other.
“Mommy’ll be worried,” Nick mumbles eventually, sounding nervous, adorable.
Joe kicks up his feet again, like when they were together on the same swing, and frowns at his knees- “I’m all muddy.”
“Don’t you think we should go back?”
Joe tugs the straw from his carton and squeezes the last of his apple juice, just a dribble, right onto his outstretched tongue- “Shall we go explore more?”
He starts to stuff their trash back into his bag and then, with a thoughtful little smile, gestures for Nick to stand. Nick does so, hands all fidgety, and Joe wraps the blanket around his slender shoulders like a super hero’s cape, knotting it under his chin. The blanket pools at Nick’s feet but he looks so proud- all thoughts of home forgotten as he spins to watch the purple whirl. Joe knows, in the back of his mind, that the delay will only get them into more trouble, but Nick keeps spinning, holding the blanket with his outstretched little arms, and for that it’s worth it.
“C’mon,” Joe says softly and they push on further through the thick, crackling grass.
Joe seeks out paths where the growths already downtrodden, pretty blooms shooting up wherever the grass has managed to stay lush and green, butterflies lifted aloft on the current of the five pm wind. Joe tugs at the grass with a loose fist, smiling as it strokes his palm, and Nick chants ‘nanananana bat man!’, never much more than a few footfalls behind him. Joe keeps chuckling lazily and turning back to smile at Nick and if Nick’s not concentrating hard on hopping on one leg or eyeing the path of a passing bumble bee, he smiles too. He’s only seven but already he’s started to ration the sort of smiles where you can see each of his little uneven teeth and he saves the most heart stopping for Joe.
As it gets later it gets cooler and goose bumps rise up on their bare arms, whisper over the backs of their necks where their dark hair half-curls into their napes. Still, they sun stays out and so they barely notice the time, just watch it, a solid peach in the sky. Joe decides that they don’t have to be home until there’s a moon hanging like a paper lantern in it’s place, until the sky goes from orange to purple. They can keep wandering and dragging their fingertips over the rough bark of the trees they pass, not having to make even idle conversation to enjoy each other‘s company, in a way that most boys their age wouldn‘t have the attention span to understand [even Joe‘s surprised that‘s managing it]. But then Nick yawns-
“Joey,” He whispers and Joe stops. Nick doesn’t quite follow his lead in time and he ends up falling against him, a hint of a purr as he rests his cheek against Joe’s back. His head feels heavy, his brown eyes too. “Home?”
Joe bites his lower lip, worrying it without letting Nick see before he nods. He turns back on himself, arm immediately around Nick’s little shoulders. Nick slumps against Joe but Joe doesn’t mind, just carries Nick slight weight as drags his feet through the dirt and hides a few stuttering yawns of his own. His arm holding up his backpack starts to ache but he enjoys the burn, sort of, enjoys the last balmy threads of their adventure. The last pastel coloured shades of the day.
They wind around the oak tree Joe dangled from and then they pass the swing set before they’re through the mammoth gates. There are more shadows than sun spots this time, the black patterns the leaves and crooked branches leave on the sidewalk a little creepy. Nick pushes right into the nook of Joe’s arm pit and Joe feels panic rising in his chest, knowing that they’re not moving as quickly as they should be. He squeezes Nick’s upper arm as they reach the main road and barely looks left, never mind right, before he has his little brother run right across. They narrowly miss a speeding bicyclist, which makes them both scream and Joe feels guilty, especially when he realises that Nick is trembling. It’s then that Joe remembers that Nick’s pretty tiny- that he’s still the baby.
“Boys!” Denise Jonas is quick as lightening when she needs to be, the little heels of her boots clicking against the sidewalk as she races down to where they’ve come to a shaky stop on the corner, “Boys! Oh Jesus, my boys! Where have you been? Kevin and Daddy are out looking- I’ve had Adam’s Mother driving around, I was this close to phoning the police- oh my boys!” She pulls them both into her chest, lifting Nick right off of his feet so that he has to snap his legs around her hips as she smothers them both in kisses- her cheeks soggy with tears.
She keeps kissing them as she marches them back towards their house, hugging them tight enough to leave bruises. Every so often she sounds so angry Joe’s almost frightened, until the growl in her voice cracks and gives way to relief yet again. She keeps rambling about their safety, about strangers and bad men and worst caste scenarios whilst Nick lets his eyes close and Joe almost drops his bag. It slides right off of his arm but he just pulls it by the strap, not caring it scuffs. He’s drooping all over, heavy with guilt. He feels as gloomy as a rain cloud and hot tears keep threatening to spill from his tired eyes but he forces them back, grits his teeth instead. He listens to his Mother’s prayers, despite the fact that she’s got them back in her arms.
At least, Joe manages to bite back the tears until he feels a gentle pudgy hand in his hair. He glances up to find Nick smiling, with teeth, for him from beneath their mother’s chin. Ridiculously perceptive for a child, with such an intensely loving warmth in his drowsy eyes, Nick mouths that it’s going to be okay, and then, as his smile shies, he adds a ‘thank you’.
*********
“Love you, Nicky,” Joe murmurs, distant and dejected, as he shrugs off his too-big grey hoodie. He drags his tongue over the minty teeth of his taste and lays his glasses on the bedside table, flicking the switch on the lamp before he slides down beneath the scratchy hotel bed comforter. It’s really not very comforting at all, rather it’s cold and over starched.
It’s when he lets his mind wander to his old purple blanket, which still lays on his bed back home, that he feels all of his strength drain away to be replaced by a fresh wave of heavy tears. There’s nothing pretty about the way the salt burns and his choked sobs make him cough, dry heave hopelessly. He has to sit up as he tries to calm himself, one hand knotted in his heavy hair, the other palm pushing at the top of the bridge of his nose. It does nothing to stem the flow, but it staves off a brain-splitting headache.
“Joey?” Nick hovers, arms aching to wrap around Joe but not knowing if it’s the right thing to do- “Joe… man?” The younger boy drops down to his knees, one elbow resting on the mattress beside Joe, his other hand brushing over his brother’s rigid side.
Joe relaxes, barely, but he does. Nick knows him well enough to feel the way his muscles go slightly slack beneath his palm.
“Joe, need a hug?” Nick whispers, trying in vain to sound somewhat gruff. He’s not sure why but at that moment he gets a fleeting memory of one of Joe’s noogies and it’s the oddest thing but it make the hug he gives Joe, when he leans in towards him gratefully, that much more fierce.
“I love her, Nicholas. I do. I really do love her, I thought, fuck it’s so stupid but I thought we were forever- you know?”
Nick nods wordlessly, letting Joe rant against his shoulder, feeling him gulp and shudder and sob though now his crying seems to have run dry. It’s evident from his bones to the pools of his eyes- devastation.
“I thought… I thought I was an adult this time, that it was gonna last and we’d be married and… grow old and… all that stuff. Was always thinking about that stuff, Nicky. I’m such a fucking fool. I kept imagining a big beautiful house in Brazil, the décor that she’d love… the Portuguese music at the wedding reception.”
Nick scowls, feeling anger bubble up in his chest- no, the very pit of his stomach. He wants to avenge all of Joe’s lost dreams.
“She’s the fool, Joe.” He insists but Joe shakes his head, fists his hands in Nick’s baggy t-shirt-
“No… Nick. I… can’t, I can’t blame her or whatever… For this. I just. I don’t want it to be true, I don’t want to have to hate her. Not yet.” He pauses, breathes in deep, and Nick feels him shake his head again, more slowly- “Not ever, Nick.”
“Kay,” Nick mumbles because this is the most broken he’s ever seen Joe, and he didn’t have time to step back and figure out a plan yet. He wants to escape and ring Kevin but he doubts that Joe wants the whole family padding into their shared room to gawp, “Maybe… do you wanna sleep?”
Joe nods half heartedly- “Maybe. I think so. I mean, yeah.”
Nick settles down, lifting the covers so that he can slip beside in flush beside Joe. He arches his arm high on the pillow and Joe snuggles deep, right into his armpit. His breathing is still shaky and with one of Joe’s hand over Nick’s heart, the steady beat of it, and one limp between their twinned heat, Nick can’t help but notice that his big brother seems so small. His cheeks are raw, tear stained, and his lip’s swollen from his teeth having chewed over it- even his hair seems limp, lifeless. Watching him trying to calm down, Nick thinks back to when their biggest troubles stemmed from not finding their way home before dark and how much better that was for all of them, for Joe and his huge heart and his adventures which he’s too passionate about to ever think through thoroughly enough.
Nick’s bitter enough to regret leaving Jersey and the childish familiarity of the play park for those few moments. If they hadn’t of found fame, if he hadn’t of demanded that Camilla appear in the video for one of their acclaimed videos…
With one hand entangled in Joe’s hair Nick can do nothing but repeat that it’s going to be okay, with more conviction once he’s said it at least ten times. His voice is as strong as he can manage, loud and clear above the haze of the late hour and Joe’s arduous pain-
“I promise Joe, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna stick together and… and we’re gonna pray and just, tomorrow the sun’s gonna be huge just for you, you’ll see.”
He pets Joe’s hair, catching the curls within his fingers, smoothing the strands with the pad of his thumb and he’s gentle enough, sincere enough, to rouse the suggestion of a smile from Joe. It’s like flying towards the clouds, makes Nick feel like a super hero, as weak as it is.
“Got you,” Joe mumbles, into the warm cotton of Joe’s shirt- “Got you, Nicholas, thank you.”
And Nick just says that it’s no problem, just keeps stroking Joe’s hair until he’s one hundred percent sure that his big brother’s managed to find sleep.