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It’s been awhile since Jesus has spent any proper time with his siblings. He keeps meaning to visit Jimmy, but the Twelve keep him so busy that he just can’t seem to make the time for it. And it’s been awhile since he’s heard from Simon or Jude. Joses… well, it’s been years since anyone’s heard from Joses.
It isn’t that he doesn’t want to spend time with them or talk to them. He’s just busy, so incredibly busy. He’s got the Twelve to worry about, along with his relationship with Judas and the managing of his social life and mental health. He just doesn’t have time to spare for his family anymore, as sad as that is.
Which is why it comes as something of a surprise when his phone lights up with a call from Simon.
He answers immediately, a smile finding its way to his face. “Hey, Simon,” he greets warmly, happy to hear from his brother.
“Hey, Jesus.” There’s something strained in Simon’s voice that Jesus picks up on immediately. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been alright,” he says, worry creeping into his chest. “What about you? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s…” He trails off. “Well, actually that’s why I called.”
Of course something is wrong.
“What’s going on?” Jesus doesn't like how worried Simon sounds. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Simon says hurriedly. “It's actually about Joses.”
“Joses?” Jesus hasn't heard from Joses in years, not since Joseph's funeral. Joses had been growing further and further apart from the rest of the family ever since he moved out at the first opportunity. “What about Joses? Is he alright?”
Simon sucks in a breath. “He’s… down on his luck,” he says slowly. “He’s not doing too great and I think he needs help. He’s just too stubborn to admit it, you know how he can be.”
“What can I do?” Jesus asks immediately. “Where is he? What sort of trouble is he in?”
“Slow down.” Simon’s voice is firm. “We’re actually in town now. I was figuring we could drop by if you’re available?”
Jesus glances over his shoulder at Judas, who is passionately discussing something with Simon Zealotes. They’re in the tent city they’ve taken to calling their home, no walls or doors, but all their friends are there and it’s where they rest their weary heads after a long day. It’s close enough to home to count to Jesus.
“Uh, yeah.” Judas has only met Jesus’ mother in the past and it hadn’t exactly gone well. “Yeah, of course.”
“Cool.” Simon sounds relieved. “Just text me your address and we’ll be there in a few.”
“Oh, well, uh.” Jesus flounders. “Actually, why don’t we meet up somewhere? I don’t exactly have a place at the moment.”
Simon goes silent. “Dude, are you homeless?”
“No!” Jesus feels his face burn in shame. “Well, not exactly? I mean, kinda.” He rubs the back of his neck as he scrambles to explain. “It’s by choice.”
Simon sighs on the other end of the phone. “Well, you pick the place and we’ll meet you there.”
“Cool.” Jesus chews on the inside of his cheek. “I’ll send you an address in a few minutes and I’ll see you in a few.”
When Jesus shows up at the park where he arranged for him and his brothers to meet, he recognizes them right away.
Simon’s hair is still the same sandy blond that he inherited from Joseph, worn longer than Jesus’ in a loose ponytail. He looks different in a way Jesus can’t quite describe — his face is softer and his dark eyes light up a bit easier. He looks good, happy. Jesus couldn’t be more excited to see him.
“Simon!” He calls and a flash of something uncomfortable appears on Simon’s face.
“Jesus.” Simon pulls him in for a hug and Jesus claps him on the back. It feels good to have his brother so close to him again. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Really good, actually.” He pulls away to grin at his brother. He turns to the man beside him, who hasn’t said a word since Jesus showed up. “It’s good to see you, Joses.”
If Simon looks like the years have been kind to him, Joses looks the opposite. He looks underfed and exhausted, with dark bags under his eyes and a hoodie that does nothing to hide how light his frame is. His dark hair is short and messy, sticking up in all directions like he couldn’t be bothered to run a brush through it. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he avoids Jesus’ gaze like it might burn him to look directly into his eyes.
“Hey,” he mutters.
Jesus frowns. “Hey? That’s all I get?” He opens his arms. “It’s been years.”
Joses scowls. “I don’t see you picking up a phone.” He doesn’t go in for the hug.
Simon sighs and elbows Joses. “Come on, don’t be like that.”
“Oh, right. God forbid Jesus has to put some actual work into anything,” he mutters sarcastically.
That stings.
“I don’t think I have your number,” Jesus says, awkwardly lowering his arms.
“You could’ve asked Sy.” He nods towards Simon.
“I wasn’t aware he had your number.”
Joses scowls. “Well, they did.”
That makes Jesus pause and he raises an eyebrow. “They?”
Joses and Simon share a look.
“Uh, yeah.” Simon shifts his weight from side to side. “So, uh. Surprise. It’s Sy now. They/them. Don’t tell Mom.”
That takes Jesus aback. “Oh. Uh, congratulations.” He hadn’t expected this, but he can roll with it. “What do you mean, don’t tell Mom?”
“It’d be too much to explain.” Sy waves a hand through the air dismissively. “I love her, but you know how she can be. I don’t want her thinking I'm going against God’s plan or whatever.”
“She wouldn’t say that,” Jesus insists.
Joses snorts. “Bullshit.”
Jesus shoots his brother a glare before turning back to Sy. “Well, I’m happy for you. And my lips are sealed.”
“Thank you.” They look relieved.
Jesus nods. “So, what brings the two of you here? It’s a ways from home.”
“Joses needs a place to stay,” Sy explains. “We heard things through the grapevine about your group, how you help people. We were thinking that it’d be a good way to get him back on his feet.”
“You thought this was a good idea,” Joses is quick to correct. “I think it’s stupid nonsense.”
Jesus looks between his siblings, surprised that Joses is even entertaining the idea. Joses had always been the one to turn his back on God’s plan, to turn his nose up at the idea of helping those in greater need. From what Jesus remembers of their childhood, Joses cared more about himself than anyone else.
“Well, I don’t have a house you can stay in, but there’s a tent city we can get you set up at,” he offers. “And there are plenty of programs that can help keep you afloat, especially if you want to look into the work the Twelve does. If you’d rather stay at a shelter, that’s an option too, but we won’t turn anyone away.”
Joses narrows his eyes almost suspiciously. “You know I’m not going to pray or any of that shit, right?” He warns, something tired in his words.
Jesus hesitates for just a moment. He knew Joses always hated going to church and he’d get into frequent arguments with their mother about the nature of God, but the idea that he turned against believing in its entirety saddens something within Jesus’ heart.
“You don’t have to,” he assures. “Not all of the Twelve are religious. I mean, Judas is pretty vocally atheist and he’s a founding member.”
“Judas is your friend, right?” Sy asks, looking delighted to have something positive to latch onto. “Mom mentioned that he stayed with you while she visited.”
Something mildly annoyed rises in Jesus’ chest. “He’s my boyfriend, actually.”
“Oh!” Sy’s brows jump to their hairline.
Joses looks even more surprised. “Wait, you’re dating a guy?” There’s something that sounds a little like awe in his voice. “An atheist guy? And Mom didn’t have a stroke when you told her?”
“It isn’t that big of a deal.” Jesus brushes them off. “He’s a good person. Mom and him…” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “They don’t get along, but it isn’t because of his gender or religion.”
At least, Jesus doesn’t think that’s it. He hopes that’s not it. Actually, now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure his mother knows that Judas is an atheist. Probably best not to bring that up.
Joses scoffs. “If I ever brought home a boy, Mom would’ve gone on one of her tirades.” There’s a note of bitterness that creeps into his words.
“That’s not true.” Jesus really doesn’t know where this idea of their mother being an unaccepting person is coming from. She hadn’t said a word against him when he came out as bisexual.
Joses just rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you would think that, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.”
“I really–”
“Okay!” Sy holds up their hands to both of them. “We just got here. Let’s not bicker right now. Why don’t we head to this tent city so we can see what all the fuss is about, yeah?”
Joses mutters something under his breath and kicks at the ground, but shrugs and nods. “Sure. Whatever.”
The tent city is bustling with activity when they arrive. Everyone is doing their own thing, minding their own business, but it’s still full of life.
Jesus catches sight of Judas bickering with Peter, his hands flying as he gesticulates. Jesus doesn’t have the first idea what they’re arguing about, but it’ll probably mean a headache for him later.
“Hey, JC. Where’ve you been?” Mary greets from where she’s typing away on her laptop. Her gaze lingers on Sy and Joses. “Who are your friends?”
“Mary, these are my br– my siblings,” he corrects. “Sy, Joses, this is my friend, Mary.”
Sy eagerly shakes her hand. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Sy. This stinker is Joses.”
Joses scowls. “Rude.”
“It's nice meeting you,” Mary says. “I'm always curious about Jesus’ family.”
“I'm sure he just can't shut up about his delightful younger siblings,” Sy jokes. “You must have heard all about us.”
Mary laughs. “He talks about his family surprisingly little, actually. I met your mother while she was in town and she was…”
“Overbearing?” Joses supplies. “Intense? Crazy?”
Mary quirks an eyebrow. “I was going to say she wasn't what I expected.”
Joses scoffs. “Right. So a nicer way of saying what I said.”
“Joses,” Jesus warns. “Stop acting like a child.”
“I'm not!” Joses throws up his hands. “I'm just saying.”
Sy rolls their eyes. “You see what I had to grow up with?”
“I don't envy you,” Mary says with a grin. “How many siblings do you have anyway?”
“Well, Jesus is the oldest. Then there’s Jimmy, Joses, me, and baby Jude.” Sy ticks them off on their fingers.
“Jude's hardly a baby anymore,” Jesus reminds them. “Have you heard from him lately? Last I heard, he was moving in with his new girlfriend.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s doing great. He really loves her,” Sy says. “I think they’re probably gonna get married soon.”
“Already?” Jesus doesn’t know how good of an idea that is. Jude still feels so young to him and while he’d happily support his brother, he wants to make sure he knows what he’s getting into.
Sy shrugs. “You know Jude. He wants a family, always has.”
“Probably wants to make up for how dogshit ours is,” Joses mutters.
“What?” That feels like a blow to the gut. “Our family is great. What are you talking about?” Sure, they have their disagreements and they bicker like all families do, but as a whole, they’re a great family. The biggest blow came in the form of Joseph’s death, but even that didn’t destroy them.
Joses scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, of course you’d say that.”
Jesus feels a headache coming on. “Look, I don’t know what you mean by that, but you’re the one who left. How would you even know how things are?”
“Did you ever stop and think that maybe there was a reason I left?” Joses snarls, hands balling into fists at his side. “That maybe not everyone wants to live in the shadow of precious baby Jesus?”
“What? You were never in my shadow.”
Joses barks out a laugh. “Do you really believe that for a single second?”
“I really don’t know what you’re–”
“Can we not do this right now?” Sy requests, a pleading note in their voice as they glance back at Mary, who looks mildly entertained by the argument brewing right in front of her.
Joses grits his teeth. “I’m going for a smoke.” He storms away without another word.
“Wow.” Mary raises an eyebrow. “Your family is full of surprises, huh, Jay?”
Jesus sighs. “That’s just Joses. He’s always been hot-headed.”
Sy shifts uncomfortably. “Not for no reason,” they say quietly.
Well, that isn’t how Jesus remembers it. Joses has always been the type to act out, to scream for attention in the worst ways. Even as a kid, he’d almost gotten arrested a few times due to his delinquency and he’d gotten expelled from a few different schools growing up. Jesus doesn’t hold it against him — he was just a kid — but it seems that those patterns have followed him into adulthood.
Mary nods in sympathy. “Well, we take all kinds of hot-heads here,” she assures with a quirk of her lips. “I mean, if we can keep Judas around, we’ll take anyone.”
Sy laughs. “Is he that bad?” They ask, eyes sparkling in amusement. “I’ve always wondered what Jesus’ type is.”
“Assholes, apparently.” Mary smirks. “At least, judging by the one person I’ve ever known him to date.”
Jesus feels his face heat up. “Judas isn’t–”
Mary waves him off. “Yeah, yeah. You have your rose tinted glasses on around him, we know.” She at least sounds amused instead of bitter.
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Sy says with a grin.
“Well, he’s right over there.” Mary gestures vaguely. “Probably about to punch Peter or something.”
“You’ll get a chance to meet him,” Jesus assures. “But first, can I speak to you in private?”
Sy nods and follows Jesus as he steps away.
“So, what’s going on with Joses?” He asks. “Why doesn’t he have a place?”
Sy sighs and shifts on their feet. “It’s not really my place to say.”
“You know he won’t talk to me.” Joses is stubborn that way.
They rub the back of their neck. “Yeah, you’re right about that.” They let out a long breath. “Fine. He just got out of rehab.”
Jesus’ eyes widen. “What?”
“Yeah. After Dad died, he got involved with some really shady stuff. I don’t even know all the details, but Dad’s death hit him harder than I think any of us realized. And he doesn’t have anyone else, Jesus. I only know because I was his emergency contact.”
Drug abuse is something Jesus is familiar with, but only in the vaguest sense. A lot of people in his circles have dabbled in drugs and he knows Judas used to have a problem, but he’s been clean for quite some time now. Jesus has helped people in the community who have struggled with drug abuse and he knows it’s a way people cope with their situations. But imagining Joses, his little brother, the little boy who used to chase him and his siblings around with worms on sticks as someone who had to go to rehab… it’s difficult to fully conceptualize.
Jesus glances over at where Joses is smoking a cigarette. It feels like just yesterday that Jesus was getting on his case about not doing his homework or telling him off for getting into fights. He’d been so young then. What had happened? When did he grow up?
“We’re here for him,” Jesus says. “Whatever he needs, we’ll get him back on his feet.”
Sy smiles and pats Jesus on the back. “Thanks, Jesus. I knew we could count on you.”
Jesus only hopes that’s true.