Chapter Text
Clay’s always thought he and fear were well acquainted, he’s had panic attacks, then there was the time Tony tried to kill him on a camping trip, and the past few months of dealing with Justin and the constant worry about him even though Clay’s never been able to understand why.
Now he knows none of those were fear, not real fear. Fear in it’s true from isn’t just a flash like a panic attack, nor total misery even though that also sucks, nor is it the dread that dominated his thinking for a few months. No, fear is a terrifying, all consuming, long lasting thing that for him began four days ago with the phone call.
He still remembers in horrible, numb detail them piling into the car and taking off towards the hospital and meeting Tony in the waiting room, accompanied by police officers. Remembers words that at the time he didn’t know what to do with, still remembers them now and they only make a little more sense; domestic abuse, potential head trauma, internal bleeding, possible coma, victim.
He remembers being led into a room and seeing Justin on a white bed and not being able to breathe because Justin looked awful. There were too many bruises on him and machines he was hooked up to and he didn’t even know he was crying until Mom had grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.
His parents had stayed to talk to the doctor, he couldn’t. It was cowardly but he just couldn’t be there. Tony took him back out to the waiting room, sat him down, got him a water from the vending machine and probably stopped a full blown melt down.
The rest of the night was hazier, just snapshots and voice clips. They stayed, all four of them. His parents alternating between the waiting room and the hospital room. Mom stepped outside at one point, at least he thought so. When in the waiting room Dad held him, rubbed his back, combed his hair with his fingers. He didn’t mind, if he’s honest with himself, it kept him grounded and he needed it that night. While his parents alternated locations, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the waiting room, the thought of walking down the hall to the hospital room and seeing the broken toy on the bed that wore Justin’s face but wasn’t Justin- it was too much but the thought of leaving was much worse.
Tony stayed with him. Sometimes a silent, solid presence and sometimes telling him dozens of stories about nothing at all, just empty distractions that kept his mind from finding darker places. He didn’t acknowledge either but that didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful.
He remembers falling asleep. His head on a lap, someone’s hand covering his eyes against the overwhelming brightness of the overhead lights and the stark whiteness of the place, a quiet voice saying stuff in Spanish. The words meant nothing but he could understand it all the same.
The next morning Tony brought him home. He remembers his parents promised to update him with details when they had any. Tony stayed with him. They watched movies for hours and played video games and didn’t talk. He watched his phone anxiously but mostly all he got were messages every hour from Dad telling him they hadn’t heard anything and repeating the promise to pass along whatever they did. Eventually he learned Justin woke up but was tired and couldn’t have any other visitors.
They had takeout for dinner. At ten Tony made him take a shower, brush his teeth, and sent him to bed. The older boy tucked him in and didn’t leave until Dad came home.
He doesn’t remember yesterday, he had to go to school but he couldn’t remember a damn thing he did besides sitting in Mrs. Antilly’s office because Tony brought him there. For some reason he remembers that in startling clarity. The woman, as warm, awkward, and gentle as ever asked him no questions about why he needed to sit there, only offered him a box of tissues and sympathetic smile. She filled the silence by babbling on about nothing important, her kids, granddaughter, her time in college. Clay was torn between hating her and being thankful. She does get him excused from history and French though and that’s good so he settles on being thankful. He goes to geometry because her office is too small and too hot. She tells him to come back if he needs to. He doesn’t.
Today Justin is getting released from the hospital and coming home. His parents told him last night that it would be much the same as the last time, they didn’t know for how long and even though they tried to pretend everything would work out fine, Clay saw him in the hospital and knows better. He couldn’t find a future in which anything is fine. He’s sort of been avoiding Justin, well no not sort of, he’s been avoiding him. He isn’t sure how he feels about all of it and even though Tony offered to bring him to the hospital yesterday he hadn’t been able to even think about that.
He won’t be able to do that today, not with them in the same house, sharing the same room. He’s spent all day trying to convince himself that it’s far away and he doesn’t need to worry yet but with every period gone by that excuse has gotten less and less true. Thankfully most of his teachers cut him some slack and don’t really make him do much and he doesn’t have to hide in Mrs. Antilly’s office again either but he can admit this time it’s because he assumes she’ll ask him questions he doesn’t want to answer.
He’s on his way home now, he opted to walk, and not go with Tony, as glad as he was to have the other boy around that night and the day after, he’s sort of made a nuisance of himself asking questions Clay can’t answer. He knows Tony is trying to help, give him an outlet to try talking everything out but he doesn’t want to, afraid of what he might find if he really sits down to think about his emotions.
The house is empty when he gets home and he relaxes a little. Dad told him they weren’t sure when he would be back with Justin and Mom’s been working a lot. He thinks it probably has something to do with Justin but isn't too sure. Still because they aren’t back yet the nervous energy has more time to build and he ends up pacing in the kitchen. He started trying to do homework but eventually the growing emotions forced him into physical movement.
He hears the car pull into the driveway and shut off and his heart is hammering in his chest now. He counts the seconds until the front door is unlocked and opened and Dad calls out to announce they’re home. He should go and meet them in the living room but he can’t make his legs work now even though he’d just been pacing.
When Dad leads Justin in he feels the air leave the room. Justin looks better than he had a few days ago in the hospital bed, the bruises aren’t as prominent anymore and obviously he isn’t hooked up to anything now. In fact he almost looks normal, right down to the smile forming on his face. Clay attempts to smile back but he can’t seem to manage and of course Justin can tell right away it’s forced, his fades a little but he still manages to force words out of his mouth.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
It’s painfully awkward and Clay can’t bring himself to try fixing that, it seems like too monumental a task so he sits in silence and looks at an increasingly uncomfortable Justin. He isn’t sure who’s more relieved when Dad calls for Justin to come join him to do something or other.
Dinner is outright painful. Dad goes out of his way to make something good since it’s Justin’s first meal out of the hospital and of course Justin eats it and expresses gratitude and appreciation but beyond that they don’t talk. He gets roped into cleaning up after dinner and knows it’s because Dad wants answers. At least he isn’t demanding like Mom, he sort of waits, letting them clean in peaceful silence for a while before prompting.
“You and Justin seem at odds.” It’s relatively neutral all things considering and he could almost deny it except Dad wouldn’t let that slide. He thinks about it for a moment, which is longer than he’s thought about the mess in his head since this started and quickly confirms that it’s a second longer than he ever wants to again. It’s too much, so many different emotions and thoughts all vying for attention and he quickly pushes it away.
“I just-I’m confused.” He partly wonders when he decided to be honest.
“About what?”
“A lot of things.”
“Would it help to try talking it out?”
Maybe he should but he’s been avoiding that since Tony tried and he’s more sure now that any answer he finds is one he won’t like. Actually he thinks he has an answer but he won’t let it become a real thought, keeps repressing it over and over. “No I-think it’s something I need to figure out on my own.”
The man hums and then says. “I owe you an apology I think; I’ve been missing a lot lately and it’s unfair to you. I’ve spent most of the time not at work at the hospital and I should have spent more of it with you making sure you’re okay. I might have missed by chance but,” He puts down the dish he’s washing and faces him, “I’m sorry and if you decide you need to talk or want to talk, I’m here.”
A tiny smile makes its way to his face unbidden and he replies, “Thanks. It’s not about that but, thanks.”
He gets a tired smile in response and a nod. They finish cleaning the dishes and he heads upstairs. Justin is sitting on the couch and looks up at him when he walks in, eyes big and sad and the fading bruises don’t help. Clay walks right past him and pointedly ignores the N64 set up on the TV. It’s the first time he’s ever ignored those eyes and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth but Mom always told him when he was younger that if he had nothing nice to say to say nothing at all. He might have something nice...but he thinks if he tries talking, all the nasty stuff will come out first.
They only stay up another hour and a half. Justin showers and he’s glad to have the room to himself for a few minutes. When he comes back in, Clay brushes his teeth and then they go to bed. He doesn’t sleep and he doesn't think Justin does either. It’s a cold night and he can’t seem to shake the chill but he won’t resort to what he did last time this happened.
Morning comes, slowly but it comes. He just has to get up and get through the day without stopping to think too much.
Unfortunately Justin corners him in his room when they get home from school.
“Can we-can we talk?” Justin’s voice is the perfect mix of discomfort, uncertainty, and sadness to kill him.
He swallows hard but replies flippantly, “We already are.”
Justin flinches slightly but replies, “Right. Umm, we’ve been weird since this started and I just want us to not be weird anymore.”
He turns the page in his book and considers denying it but it seems pointless to do so. “There isn’t much to say.”
“Bullshit, you’ve been avoiding me.” He sounds less timid and more hurt, frustrated too. Fine two can play at that game.
“Am I supposed to act like everything’s normal? Cause it isn’t. You almost died.”
“I didn’t almost die I-”
“You didn’t even see yourself in the hospital bed or hear the doctors talk about the injuries.”
“It was fine.”
“Why? Because you’ve had worse?” Justin flinches a little. Good. “I’m not even angry over that, even though you almost scared me to death.” As he talks he realizes why he specifically avoided even thinking about this because now he has no way to deal with all the hurt of the realization he’s come to, the one he’s had for a while but never allowed to become a conscience thought because if he did it would never go away.
“Clay I-”
“No, I-I asked if everything was okay and you said it was. I guess I-thought-was stupid enough to think- this meant something to you-I thought if something was wrong you’d trust me enough to tell me, to let me help you.”
Justin looks hurt, that’s fine he’s hurt too, a lot more than Justin is. This is what he gets for ever trusting the other boy.
“But obviously that isn’t true. Guess you just wanted a warm bed, isn’t that what your mom does?”
Justin freezes and Clay knows exactly what he said, know it’ll hurt more than anything in the world and he doesn't regret it. Or at least he tries to convince himself of that.
Justin makes it easier after he recovers from the shock by sneering, “Fuck you Jensen, I didn’t ask you to try to play savior cause I don’t need you.”
“Yeah which is why you’re at my house cause your mom doesn’t care enough to be around, again.”
He thinks for a second Justin might punch him but the other boy just huffs and storms downstairs.
They don’t see each other again until bed time since Dad isn’t around to make them all sit down and eat together; they don’t talk at all. They don’t even look at each other when they’re in the same room. The only reason he can do it is cause he keeps stoking his anger. Any time he thinks he might be close to forgiving Justin, he just remembers all the pain he felt because Justin decided he didn’t deserve to know, wasn’t trustworthy enough to be told. It hurts, more than anything has ever hurt before and he can’t find it in him to move on from that so easily.