New Fic: Butterfly Effect Part 3-4

[chaps1870]

Chapter Three

Trudging out of bed, John dressed slowly, not exactly thrilled his dad would be home for a couple days. It was always stressful whenever he was around. It wasn’t like he beat him or anything, but there was usually a lot of meaningless talk, at least from 17-year-old John’s point of view.

He remembered the times before his mom had died how much better things were. His dad had time for him, took him and his mom places and they used to have fun. Now it was all work and endless lectures about responsibility. John had managed to avoid his dad the night before by pretending sleep. He’d laid awake most of the night thinking about what the kid had told him. He tried convincing himself that the kid had to be making it up, because there was no way it could be as bad as he made it sound and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more real than John could imagine.

The morning followed the same routine it always did whenever his father returned from a trip. Breakfast would be ready when John entered the kitchen and his father would engage in a pseudo-bonding moment before the lecturing began. I’m only trying to help, son. I just want you to make something of yourself.. You could do better in school if you put in half an effort. The Army is what you need. It’ll make a man of you. Teach you responsibility. I only want what’s best. Blah blah blah.

It started out as it always did with his father asking, “How’s school going?”

John shrugged as he played with his eggs, his hunger off. “The same.”

“Which tells me nothing,” said his father, adding a couple sausage links to John’s plate. “Eat.” There was a gentle nudge on his shoulder that normally would have irritated him, but this morning John found it oddly comforting. John didn’t usually eat a big breakfast. When his dad was gone, John just grabbed something on the way out the door but when he was home, his dad cooked and they ate together regularly.

“So what have you been up to this week? Did Carol come by? I asked her to check on you.”

“Nothing. Yes. And I don’t need a babysitter,” said John, his answers automatic.

“Don’t be a smartass. I just hate leaving you alone so much,” said the elder Sheppard, returning his attention to eating his own breakfast. “Eat up or you’ll be late for school. Speaking of school, you might want to know that we’ll be moving on soon, but I think the next duty post will be long term.”

John’s response was unenthusiastic, “Great.” He sat with his elbow on the table, his head leaning heavily onto his hand as he shuffled the food around his plate. The meager bites settling like a brick in his stomach as John’s thoughts drifted. He was harboring a secret and he was suddenly angry at the stupid kid for sharing it. It wasn’t fair that he somehow found himself responsible for keeping it secret and yet he didn’t feel comfortable passing it on. He felt a need to protect the kid when no one else would.



Senior Sheppard broke the silence, his voice wary, “You’re awfully quiet this morning. Did you get into trouble while I was gone? Something you need to tell me?”

Daring a glance his dad’s way, John shook his head and lied, “Nah, nothing worth mentioning.” For the first time in a very long time, he actually looked at his dad and was surprised by what he saw. There wasn’t the expected scolding look but rather something John couldn’t identify. Concern maybe or worry and a lingering sadness with an almost hopeful longing. John ducked his head and stared at his plate, confused. In that moment, John wondered if maybe he was seeing his father’s questions and lectures a lot differently than his father intended.

The silence in the room suddenly felt too awkward and John pushed his plate back and stood up. “I gotta go.” He grabbed his lunch off the counter and stuffed it in his backpack and headed for the door, risking a glance back to where his dad sat at the table. John hesitated, his hand on the door and surprised himself when he said sincerely, “Umm…thanks for breakfast.”

His dad seemed as surprised as John but he straightened and smiled brightly, “My pleasure, son.”

John couldn’t stop the grin that broke on his face and he quickly ducked out the door, feeling embarrassed by his reaction to something so simple. It had been a long time since he’d seen his dad smile. That he could put it there was even more shocking. He’d spent a good portion of the night before wondering if his dad could ever hate him so much that he’d kick him out, but that smile took away all his fears and he breathed easier for the first time since the kid had told him his secret.

His dad still cared.

***********

It was lunch when John saw the kid again. He wandered into the lunchroom, as John sat eating the sandwich his dad had fixed. That was another thing his dad always did when he was home. Another thing John had always taken for granted.

John watched the kid sit at an empty table, not bothering to look around for any place else he might sit and pulled an apple out of his bag. He finished it off just as quickly before burying his head in a book.

When the lunch bell rang, John cringed as the jocks filed past the kid’s table. Each one thumped him on the way by until the last in line gave the kid a good shove, knocking him out of his seat. The kid just picked up his book, stuffed it in his bag and hung back long enough to put some distance between them before leaving. No one else in the room even paid attention to the exchange.

It was sixth period before John saw him again and didn’t realize until that moment that the kid was even in the same math class. He came in close to the bell, his hair a mess and holding his ribs again. John held back the urge to get up and help the kid, who’d let his backpack fall off his shoulders before slowly easing himself into his seat in the corner. No one made any effort to talk to the kid or even ask if he was alright, when it was obvious he was in pain. John watched as the kid retrieved a pencil from his bag and turn away from the class as he rested his head on the desk.

The class came and went and the only time the kid raised his head was to scribble out the answers to an assignment. John hurried through his own problems, pass but was surprised when he glanced towards the kid and saw he’d already finished, the paper sitting at the edge of his desk. The kid had his head buried in his arms again until the bell rang. He wasn’t startled. He simple got up, hefted his backpack onto his shoulders, wincing as he did so and left without a word to any one.

John stared after him, wondering how miserable an existence it must be to live in that kind of isolation. Even moving as much as he did, John usually found he could associate with other kids, even if he didn’t call them friends. This kid might as well have been invisible. John followed him at a distance, watching in dismay as the kid was pinballed down the hall, pushed one way then the other by whoever took notice and lashed out.

John started to follow but was snagged by Bill. “Hey, what you doing after school? Gary’s folks are gone, we can hang out there.”

His attention diverted for just a second, when he looked back the kid was gone and John sighed as he turned back to Bill, “Yeah sure. I’ll meet you there. I gotta do something first.” Most of the time he only went because he was bored or didn’t have anything better to do. John was kind of discouraged to realize that the prospect of getting wasted didn’t hold the appeal it did yesterday. At the moment he just wanted to find the kid and talk to him, find out the whole story.

He had no idea where to start looking. After an hour of searching the hallways, classrooms and locker rooms, he gave up and headed out the back door to his car. It was snowing lightly, but there was no wind and it wasn’t as cold as it could have been. Standing in the door, he heard a noise off to his right and a movement in the shadows caught his eye. He moved back into the darkness at his back and watched, his curiosity getting the best of him. Probably a cat or something. His eyes widened when he saw a lone figure dart out of the shadows, then duck behind the closest dumpster.

John stared in shocked disbelief as the kid in question climbed the dumpster, reached in quickly and darted back into the shadows. Even with the distance between them, John could hear the kid’s heavy breathing. John stayed hidden, almost terrified of being seen after spying on the kid. He didn’t move, barely blinking as the kid made another lunge in the dumpster before heading out across the barren football field. He walked slowly and the sun was beginning to set as he approached the small equipment building at the far end of the school property. John guessed it was the equipment shed/restrooms for the outdoor sports. The kid stood at the door, looked around furtively and in the blink of an eye was inside the building with the door closed behind him.

Waiting several minutes, John finally left his hiding place and started across the field only to stop half way. He stood there, staring at the building, suddenly unsure of why he was so intent on talking to the kid. He didn’t know him, had never really seen him before yesterday. Besides, it was already getting late and his dad would be wondering where he was. Changing his direction, he headed to his car, casting glances over his shoulder every few seconds. Maybe the kid was just using the facilities. Somehow John didn’t think that was the case as he got in his car and the kid still hadn’t reappeared.

John sat in the parking lot under the pretext that the car needed to warm up. When he’d sat there for almost a half an hour and it was too dark to see, John finally gave up and went home. He couldn’t remember ever feeling guilty for having a house to go home to with a hot meal and warm bed.

*********

The next day was pretty much a repeat of the day before but John made a conscious effort to talk to his father. The conversation stalled at times, but both men were aware that this was something they’d both missed and they moved past the awkward silence to something that worked. Rebellious blinders suddenly gone, John began to see his father in a whole new light and what once came across as meddling now meant something else entirely.

School was much the same, but John didn’t see the kid at lunch. He even missed his bell hoping he’d show up. He wasn’t too sure what he’d do even if he had, John hadn’t thought that far ahead. There was just something drawing him to the damn kid and he needed answers. He needed some way to assuage the nagging sense of wrongness he’d been feeling since meeting the kid. It took all he had not to spill his guts to his dad, but he didn’t figure the kid needed the added attention without knowing more about his situation.

When the kid limped into math class, minus his coat, John knew he’d been ambushed again and it made his blood boil. Without hesitating, John got up and took the seat next to him. Everyone stared at him in horror, including the kid himself, who hissed in a whisper, “Are you nuts?”

Before John could question him, the teacher appeared between their two desks. His voice was low and menacing, “I suggest you return to your assigned seat, Mr. Sheppard. Class is about to begin.”

“I was just gonna help.”

The teacher glared at the kid, “Well?”

The kid shook his head, “I’m fine.” He shot John a piercing glare, practically begging him to drop it. “Really. It’s nothing.”

“Please return to your seat or if you prefer you can always spend an hour in detention.”

John wasn’t buying it, but the last thing he needed was trying to explain another detention to his father. He slapped the desk and stood up, “Fine.” He returned to his seat.

The kid let out a sigh of relief and buried his head in his arm just as he had the day before, totally ignoring the rest of the class period. He didn’t even bother doing the day’s assigned problems. John couldn’t figure out what had happened or why the teacher was so hostile towards the kid. He was too small to be a threat to anybody and most of the time he looked too tired or worn out to really care. John’s problem was the more he saw the more he wanted to know…the more he needed to know. He figured he had about three hours after school before he had to be home and that was more than enough time to follow the kid and have a talk.

Chapter Four

Standing in the same doorway as the night before, John waited, wondering if he’d been wrong about the kid’s hide out. It was colder than shit and it was snowing a lot harder. The parking lot was all but empty, everyone in a hurry to get home before it got any worse. Much longer and he’d risk getting stuck in it himself.

Shoulders hugged tight, he tried to sink further into his jacket but must have zoned because the next time he looked out over the field he spotted a lone figure trudging through the snow. Tugging his jacket tighter, John watched the kid make his way across the field. When the kid’s pace slowed and he started to stagger, John lurched from his hiding place to catch up. It was hard to see through the blowing snow, but John frowned when the kid stopped and let his backpack drop to the ground. He wasn’t wearing a jacket so he had to be freezing and yet he just stood there, unmoving.

Only halfway there, John increased his pace, his eyes never leaving the kid. His heart beat faster and alarm raced through his veins. In the next instant the kid took a couple of steps then dropped to his knees and hung his head. John ran the last few yards, barely catching the kid as he toppled over. He was shivering and felt like ice under John’s fingers. Holding him up, John pleaded, “Hey, come on. You gotta get up.”

The kid weakly pushed him away, “Go away. Just leave me.” His eyelids fluttered shut and snow settled on his face.

John felt the panic rising. “Oh don’t you give up now.” He glanced towards the shed, then back at the kid shivering in his arms and made a decision. Removing his own jacket, he manhandled the kid into it and hissed as the wind buffeted against his exposed skin. With one hand, he grabbed the kids backpack and slipped it over one shoulder. Shifting, he got one foot under him for leverage and lifted the kid in his arms. He was shocked by how little effort it took to stand up. The kid slumped into John’s shoulder without protest, still shivering.

John clenched his teeth against the cold and fast walked back to his car. Sitting the kid in the passenger seat, he hurried around to the driver’s side. Cold, icy fingers fumbled for keys and they shook as he tried to get them in the ignition. “Shit. Come on. I need some heat here.”

The key made contact and John quickly started the car, cranking the heat up to full as he hunched in the driver’s seat, rubbing some warmth back into his arms. The kid was curled up on the seat, mumbling incoherently as he shivered. Putting the car in drive, John shook his head. After several blocks he began muttering, “This is so stupid. The old man is gonna rip me a new one.”

He looked down at the kid, still shivering and dropped a hand to his arm, rubbing it as he drove. “What the hell am I thinking? Why the hell did you have to pick the worst day of the year to call it quits. Okay, so today probably wasn’t one of your best days but cut me some slack here.”

A quiet, forlorn voice came from under his jacket, “Shoulda left me.”

John stared at the huddled figure under his coat, the lump in his throat not letting him speak. Nothing made sense anymore. One day he’s strolling through life without a care in the world and suddenly this one kid turns his life upside down. Turning down his street the house came into view and John checked his watch. Good. He still had a couple hours before his dad came home. Pulling into the drive, he nudged the kid. “We’re here.”

The kid tried to sit up, but was shaking too hard. His arm faltered as he tried to leverage himself up and he fell back into the seat. John cursed under his breath, “Damn. I’m so stupid. What am I thinking?”

It took some maneuvering and a lot more swearing before John had the kid safely ensconced in his room. The kid looked terrible and John was shocked to see how thin he really was under the snow wet clothes and the numerous bruises, some faded to greens and yellows while others were still purple. Even some of John’s old hand-me-down sweats hung on him. He covered the shivering form with more blankets and hurried to the kitchen for something warm to eat.

Ten minutes later he held a mug of steaming broth to the kid’s lips, while he held him up. “Go slow. It’s hot.”

Nodding, the kid drank it all, faster than John would have thought possible. He slumped back on the bed. “Thanks.” Curling around himself, the kid stared at the wall. His voice was but a whisper when he spoke again. “G…give me a f…few minutes and I’ll b…be gone.”

John rolled his eyes, “Sure kid, you’re just gonna crawl outta here, right?”

“I’m f…fine. I ju…just… needed something t…to eat. L..low b…blood sugar.” he stuttered, as he burrowed under the covers.

“I’ll get you some more later. Let that settle first. I don’t need you throwing up in my bed.” Sitting at the end of the bed, his legs stretched out and his own mug of hot soup, John asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

The kid shrugged under the blanket. “I don’t know…yesterday.”

“I didn’t see you at lunch. Is that when they beat up on you?” John guessed.

Sitting up and shucking off the blankets, the kid looked around the room. “Where are my shoes?”

“Hey look you don’t have to leave. I didn’t mean to pry,” said John, putting his cup on the floor so he could stop the kid from taking off.

Jerking away, the kid bolted to his feet and made a spectacular crash to the floor when his legs gave out. “That went well,” said John shaking his head as he helped the kid back to the bed, even as he struggled. “Stop fighting me. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“Why do you care?” shouted the kid, looking thoroughly confused.

“I don’t know,” John shouted back, frustrated he couldn’t answer the question. Taking a deep breath, he spoke more calmly, “I just do.”

Sitting up, the kid lifted his chin defiantly, even as his hands shook. He crossed his arms and stared at John. “I can’t stay here. I heard you. You’ll get in trouble.”

John shook his head. “If I tell him the truth maybe he can help.”

Terror suddenly filled the kid’s eyes, ripping right through John. His words came out in a panicked flurry as he grabbed John’s sleeve in a tight fist, “No. You can’t tell him about me. I’ll end up in protective services and I…I…can’t go back there.”

“You’ve been there?”

The kid nodded. “Once, when I was younger. When my sister moved out.” Tears welled up in his eyes and he pleaded desperately, practically cutting off John’s circulation as the grip on his shirt tightened, “Please don’t make me go back.”

Easing the hand off his shirt, John tried to calm the frantic kid, “Okay, okay. I’ll figure something out.” He looked around the room thinking for a couple seconds. “We can hide you until tomorrow if we have to.”

Doing everything he could not to cry, the kid was making it hard for John to sit there passively. Everything in him screamed to reach out and just give the kid a hug. He remembered how good it used to feel when things were at their worst and his mom or dad would hug him. John got the impression that this kid never gotten that kind of comfort.

Unsure what to do or say, John stood up and crammed his hands in his pockets, “Look, you want some more to eat?”

Seemingly thankful for a change of subject, the kid nodded, but didn’t or couldn’t say anything. He just sat there, kind of numb looking and John used the moment to sneak off to the kitchen.

John had to wake him up a half hour later. “Hey kid. I brought you more to eat.” He shoved a bowl of macaroni and cheese at him. “Eat up.”

The kid’s eyes lit up and he practically inhaled the food. John watched in awe and a bit of sadness that a kid could get so delighted over a simple bowl of mac and cheese. So intent on eating the kid didn’t realize John was staring until he finished. Redness crept into his face and he ducked his head. “Sorry.”

Smiling, John took the bowl. “Don’t be. Can’t help it if you’re hungry.” He pointed to the nightstand. “Don’t forget your milk.”

If eating was an experience, the milk provided another show in pure food ecstasy. John couldn’t recall milk tasting as good as the kid made it look. John laughed, “I’ve never seen anyone enjoy eating like you do.”

“Starving does that to you,” snapped the kid, suddenly defensive.

“Yeah, I’m not making fun of you, okay. I’m trying to help, remember?”

“Why?” the kid asked, suspicious of the unexpected kindness.

“You keep asking that. Can’t you just accept that someone wants to help?”

Shaking his head, his brow furrowed, the kid said matter-of-factly, “No, I can’t.”

Seeing the sincerity and distrust in the kid’s answer, John fiddled with the blanket as he tried to explain. “I can’t really explain it. I just feel like I have to fix this somehow. From the first time I saw you I felt like I could make a difference. I don’t know why, it just is.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” said the kid.

“What, you never had déjà vu?” John asked indignantly, feeling the need to defend his actions.

The kid shrugged and the silence between lengthened until he said quietly, “They’ll hurt you if they catch you associating with me.” He looked meekly at John waiting for a response.

John raised a questioning eyebrow. “Is that why you freaked in math class?”

The kid’s voice was low, barely audible, “They’ll stop talking to you. You won’t have any friends.”

“Maybe. I can take care of myself.” John asked curiously, “Why did the teacher act like that?”

“Umm…” The kid hesitated, took a deep breath and answered, “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.” John had heard rumors but the kid hadn’t substantiated them. He didn’t react and the kid continued, “If you think teachers are any more accepting than students then you would be wrong. They don’t have a problem turning the other way when I’m getting the shit kicked out of me.”

“Is it that bad?” asked John, wondering if the kid ever got a break from the harassment.

“Once a day at least, depends on their mood.”

“Geez kid, why don’t you tell someone?”

“Who? Who am I gonna tell? Nobody gives a damn about me. I’m a nobody. If you hadn’t picked me up out of the snow earlier, I would have…” The kid stopped, realizing what he’d revealed. His hands danced nervously as he added solemnly, “Well, I can assure you no one would have mourned my passing.”

“I would have.” The words were out before John had time to think about it, surprising both of them.

The kid clearly didn’t believe and sighed, “You don’t even know me.”

John shrugged, “Maybe. So why did your par…” The phone rang and both boys jumped in alarm. “Damn,” said John and hurried off to answer the phone.

He returned a couple minutes later to find the kid making a place to sleep on the far side of the bed, practically under the bed. John smiled, “You don’t have to do that.”

The kid jumped and squeaked, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

John laughed, “Sorry. That was my dad. He’s staying at the base because of the snow.”

The relief that washed over the kid was visible and he sank to the floor, all the tension gone. “I’ll be gone by morning, so you don’t get in any trouble.”

John was getting pissed at the kid’s persistent nature. “It’s snowing and you don’t even have a jacket. How far do you think you’ll get?”

Yanking the blankets, the kid flopped on the floor and covered himself. He snapped from under the blankets, “I did just fine before you came along. I think I can manage.”

“Fine.” John stormed to the door and turned off the light on his way out.

********

John spent the next couple hours avoiding his room. He picked up the house, did the dishes and tried to watch TV. Nothing kept his interest and in defeat, he locked up the house and went back to his room. Tiptoeing around the kid, he went slipped into his bathroom and grabbed a quick shower before donning clean sweats and a T-shirt. Turning off the light first, he opened the door and negotiated his way around the blob on the floor.

The streetlights gave the room a hazy glow of gray shadows and John turned on his side and watched the snow fall outside his window. With any luck they’d cancel school and he could just sleep in. His mind refused to let him sleep and he flopped back over onto his back. A quiet voice came from his right, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’re just trying to be nice. I…uh… I’m just not used to that. Nobody has ever done what you’ve done for me.”

Rolling to the edge of the bed, John lifted up on his elbow and rested his head. “What about your family?”

The kid snorted, “Oh right, the one that kicked me out without a second thought.”

“Why did they kick you out?”

“They claimed they couldn’t have an abomination living under their roof.”

John scrunched up his face, “Huh?”

“Abomination. Gay. Sinner,” sneered the kid.

“So are you?”

“What?”

“Gay?”

Silence permeated the room before the kid answered hesitantly, “No. Yes…I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I’m fourteen, I don’t exactly have a lot of experience to make an informed decision,” huffed the kid. John could practically hear him rolling his eyes in exasperation. “This doesn’t freak you out. Most people either run in fear or beat the hell out of me.”

John chuckled in the dark, “You’re not my type and besides I don’t find a scrawny 14-year-old all that threatening.” He added jokingly, “You’re not gonna make a pass at me are you?”

“Right, because I’m such a catch I can easily imagine you actually being attracted to me. Besides, you’re the only person that’s ever really talked to me. Like I’m gonna screw that up.”

“You’re not exactly talkative at school.” John found the kid he was talking with now a complete opposite to the quiet and withdrawn kid from school. He had a strange sense of humor but seemed willing to talk. The initial pull that drew him to the kid only grew stronger the more time he spent with him. He should have been unnerved by it all, but it felt right for some reason.

The kid voice grew distant again, his earlier animation gone, “It’s easier if people don’t see me or hear me.”

“Seems pretty lonely,” said John sadly, finding it difficult to imagine.

“Yeah,” sighed the kid. The silence stretched between them.

John rolled to his stomach and dropped his head onto his forearms, his head half on, half off the bed. “How long you been on your own?”

“Couple months.”

“Did you try talking to them, going back?”

“They kicked me out with what I could carry. When I tried to sneak back to get some of my things, they found out and changed the locks. I can take a hint.”

John couldn’t hide the shock in his voice, “Geez kid, were they always that bad?”

The kid answered snidely, “They weren’t Ozzie and Harriet. Okay, maybe nobody was but they should never have had kids. My sister was six years older when I was born and ended up taking care of me. My mom never left the house and wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world. My dad worked. When they were both home they fought constantly.”

“What happened to your sister?” asked John curiously.

“She went away to college. After that, my parents found out that raising a 12-year-old genius was just too much work, so they waited impatiently for some excuse to get rid of me.”

“Why didn’t your sister help when they kicked you out?” John worried he’d asked too much when the kid got all quiet. In the dim light, John watched as the kid wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“I called her, begged her to take me,” his voice filled with emotion, but he kept talking, “She said she couldn’t. She had a life now. She said she couldn’t do it any more and…and…” Tears fell and he gasped between sobs, “She…hung…up on me.” When he looked at John, the anguish was plain even in the dark, “She was…all I had left.”

The kid’s shoulders shook as he mumbled between great heaving sobs, “Nobody… cares… Can’t… do it… anymore… Not fair… I’m just… a kid.”

John slipped off the bed and took the kid in his arms, fighting back his own tears as he listened to the pain and despair in the kids cries. Embraced by John, kid cried harder and John just held on and let him. Fingers clenched his shirt, holding it in a death grip as tears soaked the front. John figured it was the first time the kid had let anyone close enough to see the hurt he was in and how fragile his hold on things really were. He’d done what he had to and managed to survive against all odds, but he’d given up today. The kid had lain down in the snow and given up.

That nagging sense that had burned in his gut since the first time he laid eyes on the kid, demanding John fix things, tugged at him and he hugged the kid tighter, his voice a half strangled whisper as he pleaded, “Don’t ever give up, kid.”

Eventually the grip on his shirt lessened and the kid’s cries eased off until John was holding a limp form in his arms. Carefully shifting the kid to the floor, John covered him up and leaned back heavily against the bed. Wiping away the wetness on his cheeks, John watched the kid sleep.

Part 5-6