Tiny Tim

Chapter 11

Her bedroom door was closed when we passed it, but I stopped for a short moment when I could faintly hear the voices of all the women comforting a loudly crying Ava, producing unintelligible words I probably wouldn’t even understand if the door was open. The sounds alone made it clear that my sister was not just engaging in some girly attention seeking, but rather full blown ugly crying. Nonetheless, instead of even thinking about going in there, I couldn’t help but wonder about the difference between her and me. More than once, I was the one crying alone in my room with none of them giving a flying fuck about it, but when the princess was sad, half the family jumped into action.

Me stopping in the hallway seemed to prompt Claire to start her explanation for Ava’s emotional display.

“When you gave her that present, it must ha...”

“I really don’t give a shit.” I interrupted her in a deadpan voice.

I didn’t like the disapproval I saw in her eyes before I continued my way to the bedroom, but I ignored it. The longer I stayed out of bed and argued with them in my current state, the worse this would get. So, I just took my pants off and crawled under my covers while groaning over the pain my movements caused.

“What are you doing?” I asked, as Claire immediately started undressing herself.

“Can’t I stay, Baby? I know you’re angry ... but I want to hold you just a little longer.” Her voice was quiet.

The pleading tone instantly curbed most of my anger. It was sweet, in a way. And it seemed honest. But it also ticked me off a little, because she seemingly had missed my predicament. In my prevailing mindset, this was yet another display of them only thinking about their own needs and wishes.

“Claire ... I appreciate the thought. I really do. But I have a broken rib and a fucked up arm on my left side, and a bruised kidney and another fucked up arm on my right side. So, unless you’re planning to roll up like a cat and sleep between my feet, I’ll have to be in this bed alone for now.”

I had to suppress a smirk when I saw her actually look at my feet for a split second before looking me in the eyes again.

“Okay, Baby. I love you.” she said, after giving me a kiss on the forehead.

Then she just stood there, like she was waiting for the answer I couldn’t give without lying, and watched me close my eyes.

“Good night.” I mumbled instead.

I didn’t know how long I actually slept, because I had no idea at what time I crawled into bed, but it was dark outside when I jolted upright, panting heavily, and covered in sweat. My heartbeat was hammering up to my throat, my hands were shaking, and my body trembling. I Jumped out of bed and searched my surroundings. Not finding anything unusual, I looked through the window overlooking our driveway. It had happened almost every night since Bill and I went to Austin, so I knew what I had to do before I could calm down again.

Slowly and determined to make as little noise as possible, I made my way through the house. Carefully stepping into every room of the house to make sure everything and everyone was safe, and make sure the room’s windows were firmly closed while not showing any entry marks.

I found Maggie and Danielle sleeping soundly, cuddled up with Ava in her bed. Claire and Aaron were lightly snoring in their bedroom. Logan did the same alone in his own room, while Granny and Grandpa were enthusiastically snoring in the guest room.

I continued to check the rest of the rooms, doors, and windows, paying extra attention to the big patio door in the living room, and relocking the front door just to hear it actually lock. But, unlike all the other times I woke up in this state, I was still feeling uneasy after I had walked through the entire house.

Back from the basement, I paced through the living room for a few minutes, trying to figure out what I was missing, until I decided to get myself another drink, hoping it would help. I knew that fear was (probably) irrational. I also knew that waking up like this in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly a good sign, and using alcohol to combat it was downright stupid. But I thought it would pass once it really settled in that we were safe.

Holding my whisky glass, I suddenly realized what it was that kept nagging me. I couldn’t find John! Everyone else was accounted for, only he was missing, and after finding his wife and daughter in the house, I would have expected him to be around as well. Sure, he probably just preferred his own bed over crashing on the sofa or sharing with Logan, but I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally at that moment, so I decided to shoot him a text.

I knew by then that it was half past three at night, he would be in deep sleep right now, so I was reluctant to call. Then I remembered that my phone was busted, which meant that I couldn’t send any texts. After unsuccessfully trying to just calm down once more, I grabbed the landline and called him, my anxiety growing slightly with each ring tone that went unanswered. Finally, I heard his tired voice.

“Walker residence?” I could almost hear him suppress a yawn and rub his eyes.

“John? You Okay?” I asked, immediately feeling embarrassed about waking him at that hour over my own shit.

“Tim!? Yeah! Why, what happened?” Shit. The tiredness had instantly vanished from his voice, and was replaced with alarm.

“No! Everything’s fine! Sorry. I just ... I couldn’t find you when I made my round, even though Maggie and Danielle are here. I thought, maybe ... I may ‘ve ... overreacted. Sorry, again.” I stammered, trying to explain my reasons without admitting to what actually went on in my head.

“Oh. No problem. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Thanks for checking, though!” Fuck, that was embarrassing!

“Yeah. Well, sorry for waking you up. Good night!” I said, greatly appreciating him not asking too many questions.

For a few minutes after the call had ended, I remained in the dark living room and watched a cat walk around our backyard. I was pulling down a single panel of the blinds, so I could watch it without exposing the rest of me standing there and scaring it away, while sipping my drink. Suddenly, a voice ripped me out of my funk. When I spun around, I saw Danielle leaning against the doorframe leading into the living room.

“Good Morning, Tim.” she half whispered as to not wake the rest of the house, while I was still blinking at her in surprise.

“Morning. Why are you up? Everything alright?”

“John called me a few minutes ago.” she explained, giving me a meaningful look.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” I said, looking back out the windows to hide my embarrassment.

John, that damned traitor! That’s why he didn’t ask questions. He must have called her the moment I had hung up instead. Meaning, she possibly had just stood there watching me for a while.

“So ... you make rounds through the house?” she asked, walking to stand next to me, “In the middle of the night?”

“Yes. So?”

“You do that often?”

She tried to sound casual, but I could also hear a distinct tone of professionalism, telling me this wasn’t just idle conversation with my Aunt. It was more likely a session with my Aunt the therapist. I looked at her, contemplating whether I should - or rather wanted to - tell her. And if so, how much.

“Most nights, yes.” I answered blandly. Noticing her look I added. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

She grabbed my drink out of my hand, brought it up to her nose, and sniffed it.

“Yeah, sure. Waking up in the dead of night to check on us, and then drinking alone in a dark room, basically screams ‘I’m fine’, Tim!”

“Who says I wake up to check on you people? I just make sure the house is Okay.”

“So you do wake up to check, instead of checking when you just happen to wake up? And if it’s not to check on us, why did you call John to make sure he was Okay?”

Obviously I wasn’t as quick-witted as I thought.

“Where the fuck’s all that perceptiveness suddenly coming from that you’ve been missing for the past four years?” I muttered under my breath, taking my drink back from her hands, and causing her to wince and regard me with sad eyes.

“I know I failed you, Tim. I’m sorry.” she responded after placing a hand on my biceps, “There isn’t anything I could say in my defense that wouldn’t sound like a cheap excuse, or like I’m trying to shift the blame. All I can say is, I’m trying to do better, because I do care about you.”

Hearing that almost knocked me on my ass. It was the first time I had heard any of them fully acknowledge my grief, while actually apologizing for the part they played in the shit I had endured. No ‘I’m sorry, BUT... ‘, or ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’. She actually admitted that my aversion towards them was fully warranted, without any attempt to play it down or relativize her part in it. Even Claire had, the night we had sex, only apologized specifically for not realizing that Tess had died, and gave me a ‘I didn’t intend to... ‘ for all the other crap.

“Well ... try me.” I challenged her.

“What?”

“Now that you said you’re sorry and want to do better, I’d like to hear the reasons, even if they sound like excuses. Because I really would like to understand how in the hell we reached this point.” I clarified, and saw her body slump in on itself. “You are a psychologist after all. So, I have a little trouble understanding how anything you just claimed is possible, after you let it all happen.”

She thought about it for a while, looking at her feet, before she sighed in resignation.

“I could tell you that we don’t live together, so I never directly witnessed the signs of depression in you. I could tell you that you had already withdrawn yourself and kept your distance from us when you entered high school, so I never directly witnessed the signs of you being bullied. Or I could tell you that I specialized in couples therapy, not child psychology, so I wasn’t able to see the signs from a distance either. But the simple truth is ... that you were right with what you said to me. The mere fact that a fourteen year old child withdrew himself from his family should have made me ask questions, but I was content with my life and the fun we were having, so I readily accepted Aaron’s remarks about harmless sibling rivalry.”

By the end of her explanation, she had to strain her voice to keep her embarrassment out of it.

“And what about after you finally found out?” I asked quietly. “I suspect John told you about our little talk in the car?”

“Yes.” she nodded somberly, “He has. Tim, after we tried to make them remember your birthday last year, your Grandmother justifiably dressed us all down and demanded of Claire and Aaron to fix what was wrong. And, despite what you think, I did talk with them. One of the reasons I hounded you for the last year was that I wanted to help that process along. When you kept refusing to talk with me, I relied on what I heard from your parents and siblings, who made it all sound like you just weren’t interested.”

“Really!?” I asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, Tim, really.” she said in a sad voice, “Your brother and father sounded very convincing. Especially since, until two weeks ago, I had no idea how bad things really were from your perspective.” She paused to sigh again. “So, there you have your answer to why we never offered to take you in. John and I also talked about introducing you to our family activities ourselves if Claire wouldn’t, but it simply wasn’t our place. It’s the parents’ responsibility to decide when their children are ready for it. All we knew was that we forgot your birthday, and that Aaron preferred Logan over you. So, honestly, we had little reason to doubt their words when they claimed you simply didn’t want to. At least not until your grandfather called and told John about your disappearance.”

She was right. To me, this did sound like a bunch of excuses. But she had already acknowledged that she simply screwed up, and seemed to genuinely regret that.

“So ... what’s the plan now?” I asked, and noticed her acting pensive all of a sudden.

“There are ... other concerns.” she replied carefully, “Now that I finally realized my mistake and started looking at things a little more ... critically ... I’m afraid there are a lot more things going wrong. I’ll have to talk with the others about it. I think we need to make some serious changes about the way we handle things.”

“I think that’s obvious.” I injected, which she ignored.

“Right now, my main concern is you. I will make this right, Tim. I will not fail you again. So, right now, I need to make sure you’re actually Okay like you claimed you are.”

“Well, fine, I’m not Okay. Happy?” She grinned. “But I will be.”

“Meaning?” She insisted on keeping this talk going.

I realized how long we had already stood around while talking, and it seemed like this talk would go on for a while longer. So, I moved over to the loveseat and found my shirt from the day before draped across a chair. I guess they weren’t sure if they should try to wash out the blood or just throw it away. I took a seat, fully expecting her to sit in the armchair opposing me to complete the picture of a therapist in session. She surprised me, however, by sitting right next to me instead. I took a sip of my drink, more to buy some time than to sort my thoughts.

“The last two weeks were just ... a little stressful.” I started,

“That’s slightly understated, but go on.” she smiled.

“And ... I haven’t slept that well in a while. I just need to realize we’re finally out of the woods; it’ll fix itself.”

She nodded, stood up and walked into the kitchen. Then she came back with a drink of her own, though she preferred a glass of wine I had no idea we even had in the house. Then she sat back next to me, and gave me a searching look.

“When you wake up, how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it makes you check on us, do you feel like something’s wrong? Or something might happen?”

“Yes.”

“And how are you physically when that happens? How does your body feel?”

I thought about that a little before I answered.

“Like ... when the fight with those guys in the parking lot started. Like that.”

“You mean ... heart palpitations?” I nodded. “Heavy breathing?” I nodded again. “Body trembling, hands shaking?” I wanted to shake my head, but she was spot on. “Do you always get a drink when that happens?”

“No. Usually, I just make my rounds and get better once I arrive in the basement.” I ignored the sight of her raising her eyebrow when I used the word ‘Usually’, indirectly admitting how regularly it was happening. “But today was just ... it didn’t go away until I understood that John was missing and called him. By then, I had already tried the drink.”

“You do realize, this sounds like you’re waking up with panic attacks?” she asked matter of fact. I just stared at her for a moment.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What do you think it is, then?” she asked patiently.

“I don’t know, pick something else. I don’t do ‘panic attacks’! Why would I!? I don’t clamp up like Aaron, or run away like Logan! I deal with it when shit happens. And why the hell would I get hysterical now, when it’s over and solved!?”

I heard her let out a heavy sigh after I finished.

“I should’ve expected that response, after you spent so much time with Bill and his boys...” she mumbled to herself before continuing louder while looking directly into my eyes. “You’re not ‘hysterical’, Tim. The last two weeks were a lot more than just ‘a little stressful’! You almost died when you were stabbed. The entire two weeks since then were spent worrying and staying awake for days in a row. To protect us, you went against very dangerous people. And finally, when it was supposed to be over, you got assaulted again and found yourself thrown into yet another life-and-death situation! That takes a toll. It accumulates. And it’s especially too much for a seventeen-year-old.”

“But it IS over now.” I protested, failing to control the volume of my voice. She surprised me by taking my hand before answering.

“No, it’s not. Not for your body, at least. You’re still hurting. Your ribs, your side, your arms ... I think, when you agitate your wounds by moving in your sleep, the sudden pain sends your brain right back into the fight-or-flight state you basically maintained over weeks now. When did it start getting so bad?”

I sure as shit was not going to tell this woman that it got really bad just after I got back from Austin. Which, coincidentally, was also when they all moved to the supposed hotel and left me alone in the house. That would just give her ammunition to stop me from going back home. Instead, I deflected.

“Well ... that certainly sounds better than a panic attack. How’s Ava, by the way?” It gave her pause for a second.

“I thought you didn’t care?” She and Claire had apparently talked after I went to sleep.

“I said that when you, Maggie, and Granny were looking after her. But seeing how you and Maggie opted to sleep with her instead of going home with John ... maybe it was more serious than I thought. Unless, of course, it wasn’t because she needed emotional support, and you instead just continued the fun you all had over the last week.”

“Tim! We would never do that!” She genuinely sounded hurt.

“You wouldn’t? You all spent my last two birthdays having lovely get-togethers, while I was at work. Remember what you were doing that Thanksgiving, when you all had finally realized that it was my birthday? If memory serves, Aaron and Grandpa were spitroasting Ava, and your daughter was blowing Logan, while you were discussing how and why our relationship had turned to shit. While I was risking my life, taking out those guys, you were in the mood to have at least a foursome. And now you tell me, you’d never do something like that?”

I was neither shouting, nor was my tone sounding angry. I was calmly pointing out why she was talking bullshit. After everything that happened that night, I was past angry. Though, I wondered if she picked up on the little part about Ava being spitroasted on Thanksgiving. They now knew that I knew about the family orgies for a while, but that was a detail I had no way of knowing.

“I already said I’m sorry, Tim. And I meant it when I said I’ll do better. What happened with Logan while you were out there putting your life on the line ... That’s one of the things I talked about just now. One of the things we need to change.”

“Please explain.” I said with great interest, causing her to, once again, look at me in great shame.

“Tim, we did not do that out of disrespect to you, or because we didn’t appreciate what you were doing for us. We did that because we were worried about you.”

“I’m not following.”

“I’m afraid we’ve all grown a little too ... accustomed to sex. John disagrees with me on that one, but it isn’t anywhere near as meaningful as it once was. It became something we simply do to feel good. That day, we were all stressed out of our minds. We tried calling you a dozen times throughout the night, and every time you didn’t answer, it got worse. We could always use sex to ease that tension.” she finished in a quiet voice.

I groaned, “Please tell me that you realize how much of a ‘Fuck you’ that is to me.”

“Yes. I do now.” she said in an even smaller voice. “At the time though ... When your Mom and Susy saw Logan after those men roughed him up, they wanted him to feel better. Aaron argued that we can’t hold it against him if he told those men about you, because he was scared. If either of us were in a similar situation, we would probably also say whatever we thought would get us out of it. And he was right. I would have done the same. It ... made sense.”

As she told me that, my eyes widened in disbelief. These fucking assholes had used Bill’s words, that he used to keep me focused on my task instead of my hatred for Logan, to justify their Golden Boy’s betrayal of his own brother!

I also realized something else. After what happened during the week before my trip to Austin, I had hoped that they would finally come around and acknowledge me as part of their family. Ava had displayed her willingness when I woke up next to her, Granny had come on to me in a similar situation, and Claire had actually slept with me. Now, however, after learning how mundane and meaningless these activities were for them ... this was obviously not what I had secretly hoped for.

“Tim.” her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, accompanied by the feeling of her holding my hand. “Please believe me. I’m really sorry.”

I sighed.

“I do. You did not pull any punches when it came to your involvement and your motivation for it. And your apology is the only reason I’m talking to you in the first place. It was the first time any of you even tried to apologize. I appreciate it, though it’s still too late. Too much happened that I won’t be able to forget.”

“Tim, don’t say that.” she pleaded, “I talked to Claire after you went to sleep. You know, she and Aaron noticed how you never say it back anymore when they tell you they love you. And, believe it or not, it hurts them a lot when they see how much damage they caused. They realize how much they hurt you. I told them we need to take this slow, respect your pace, and take what you offer, but I think it’s...”

“Wait. Whatever happened to ‘Please, just let her hold you for a while. She needs this right now’?” I interrupted, repeating her words from just a few hours ago, “Why do you keep asking me to do shit for them? Why is fixing what they broke on me?”

“It’s not. It’s on us, and we know it. I just also know that you really want your family back. Why else did you try to make John understand what happened with us, when you drove to the office together, if not to give us a chance to fix it?”

It was true. That was the exact reason why I had tried to make John understand what was happening in this family. But not necessarily to fix their relationship with me, but rather so they can fix their shit before Maggie and Ava suffer from the long-term consequences.

“Did it work?” I asked her in a subdued voice.

“Yes.” she smiled, “He was ... quite shocked about what you told him, and was seriously concerned after mulling it over. So, I take it we do have a chance to get you back?”

“Did Claire tell you that we...?” I asked carefully, without actually saying what I was asking.

“Yes. Ava too, by the way. If what she told us was true, and the way she looked and walked suggests it was, I’m impressed, my dear Nephew.” she laughed.

“You know...” I paused, looking at my hands, feeling embarrassed about it but, at the same time, also feeling the need to make her understand. “The best part about the night with Claire was the way she held me afterwards. The way you all behaved after Thanksgiving also made me think we could work on this. But every time I get my hopes up, some shit happens, and I have a hard time believing you again.”

“Like what?” she asked, sounding confused. Which ticked me off again.

“Oh, well, let me think.” I half called out, while throwing my hands in the air. “How about Ava presenting me a birthday gift, and then it turns out to be a cruel joke. How about you and John realizing how bad our relationship had gotten, and then accepting it as the new normal. Granny and Gramps proclaiming how important it is we fix our relationship, right before they fuck off on another cruiseship for a year. Aaron protested how dangerous my plan was, but then readily agrees to everything I’d get thrown my way, as long as it keeps fucking Logan out of danger. Or how about me thinking that Claire and Ava coming onto me could mean that they finally accept me, just to now be told how utterly meaningless a gesture that is for you all. Which, by the way, is a real nut shot if you consider how you all excluded me from the family orgies for years, even though it’s apparently the same for you as brewing coffee! Should I fucking continue!?”

“Okay...” she conceded with an embarrassed look, but I was not even close to being done.

“And all of that happened after you all gave so little of a shit about me, you didn’t even notice that your underaged son, brother, and nephew was gone for a week! I got fucking trust issues here, Danielle, and now you’re asking me to just accept your word on how you all made a mental One-Eighty? Even if I could believe you ... After last week, I’m not even sure if I wanted to anymore.”

“Okay! You’re right. Everything you just said is true. We’ve got to prove ourselves. And we want to! Just tell me you’ll let us prove it to you.”

Sure, I wished I had a family. Ever since I saw them on Ava’s sixteenth birthday, the way they cared for her was all I wanted for myself as well. But did I still care about that now? After those past years, did I still care for them? And more importantly, even if this was their genuine attempt to fix it, and not just a guilt trip like I feared, would they still want to mend our relationship if they knew what I’ve done?

“You know I killed those men, right?” I said quietly, causing her to jerk away from me in shocked surprise.

“WHAT!?”

“You weren’t there when those three guys came for us in that parking lot.” I explained, my voice just as low as when my initial confession slipped out, and I was still unable to look at her. “Bill told me how they normally handled debtors who wouldn’t or couldn’t pay them. They tried to shoot me and managed to stab me. They were prepared to kill us, but they actually came to take you, Maggie, Claire and Ava back to Austin with them. To clear Logan’s debt, they would’ve tried to blackmail you all into making porn. And if that wouldn’t work, they would’ve drugged you, dragged you in front of a camera, and filmed as each of you got raped by the five of them, creating as much videomaterial as possible to sell.”

Her eyes had grown big, no longer just expressing shock as I talked, but also fright. I just continued.

“After Bill told me that, I looked for the videos they produced online and found a few. The first time I watched one, I was surprised the woman could even move when they were finally done with her. So, I looked into her, just to make sure. She did make it out of the building ... but after those videos were published, she apparently couldn’t deal with the humiliation. The people they worked with are even worse than them! Even if I hate you all for what you did, I couldn’t let that shit happen. So ... I stole from his partners, and pinned it on him and his last remaining goon. If it worked out ... and it seems it did ... there is no way they let them live.”

“Tim...” she started to say, but nothing else came as she just stared at me.

“Still want me around?”

This was something that bothered me a lot, ever since it happened. I didn’t know for sure whether the Bookie and his men were actually dead, of course, but I knew this was the most likely outcome for them, even before we drove to Austin. Bill had made sure I understood that part as soon as I told him about my plan. When he asked me whether I knew what they did to people who steal from them, he wasn’t just warning me about the consequences of getting caught stealing. He was warning me about the consequences of succeeding in framing others.

I didn’t tell Danielle to get sympathy points, or make her feel indebted, or anything like that. I just had to tell someone, and ever since the blowout on Thanksgiving, I had decided that we all needed to know exactly where our problems came from. If they wanted to work on our relationship, they first needed to know why we no longer had one. In return, they deserved to know what I did in Austin, so they could decide if rebuilding a relationship with me was something worth working for.

If this confession would lead to them letting me go, or them finally deciding they didn’t want someone like me close to them anymore, nothing would be lost either. I would simply continue living like I already had for years, just not in this house.

But instead of doing anything like that, she leaned over, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled my head into her breasts. She just held me like that for a long time, while her hands combed through my hair.

I won’t lie, I enjoyed it immensely. Being held like that was something I missed a lot. And then the old doubts came back. Any affection or concern they had shown me happened just after they realized that they needed me. I was used to expecting disappointment and looking for their hidden agenda. I simply had no way to know if this was genuine.

“Why are you holding me?” I said, trying to control myself. “This is ... not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Curse at me? Wake the others and tell them what I did? Tell me to get away from you?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just held me tighter before finally speaking.

“Oh, Honey ... you were not the one who killed them, if that even happened.”

“But if it happened, I caused it!” I replied, noticing it got harder to control my voice.

“No. What you did was the only thing you could think of to protect us, and what it got you was pain. I saw your face just now while you told me. Trust me, I will never blame you for protecting your family!”

Receiving that kind of caring gesture, after she learned the full story ... I can’t even begin to describe how big of a relief I felt. I didn’t even notice how long we lay there, her just holding me in that comforting manner, until I heard birds chirping outside. I looked through the window and noticed that the sun was coming up, which meant it had been roughly three hours since she joined me. I got up and looked at her uncomfortably.

“Sorry for taking up your night.” I said.

“Don’t say it like...”

“Thank you. For...” I interrupted her, gesturing towards the sofa instead of finishing the sentence. “I hate to admit it, but I needed it.”

Hearing that made her smile. She stood, walked close to me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and took my right hand into hers.

“Listen. The next time you feel like something bad is about to happen, I want you to try this. It’s called Five-Finger Breathing. Open your hand like this, palm up.” she said, turning my hand and spreading my fingers for me. Then she lightly traced my fingers with her middle-finger. “Start at the thumb. Trace the outside of it up to the tip while you breathe in through your nose, then trace the inside of it down to the palm while you breathe out through your mouth. Then do it with your index finger with your next breath, and then with your middle finger. Try to control your breathing, so it stays deep and slow as you do it. Do it until you’ve traced all your fingers this way, and, if you need to, do it again in reverse until you’re back at your thumb. By the time you reach it, you should feel a lot calmer already.”

Feeling her lightly trace my fingers, while holding my hand and talking to me in that quiet, soothing voice, especially after I just spent at least an hour being held by her with my head resting on her chest, had an effect on me I had not expected. I actually felt close to her for a change! Thinking about how the night played out made me reevaluate my opinion of her. And, if I were honest with myself, the worst thing I could accuse her of was her being a shitty psychologist.

Yes, she didn’t want me as part of their little orgies, and lost sight of our familial bonds like the others. But contrary to the others, she was ‘just’ my aunt, and out of all of them showed the most concern for me, and had tried to talk to me for a year now. While my parents and siblings were perfectly happy with losing me completely, she showed up at work to watch my training sessions, and persistently tried to mend our relationship. And what happened during the three hours before, felt like she genuinely cared and wanted to help. I was still not sure if it was wise to risk it, but I took her hand and kissed her cheek like she did mine.

“Thanks.” I said, before moving towards the kitchen, noting the big bright smile on her face.

I looked around for the pizzas I asked them to order the evening before, but couldn’t find any. Either they, like so many times before, got rid of the leftovers before I had a chance to get some, or they hadn’t ordered any in the first place. Their appetite was possibly just as low as mine was in the evening. Instead, I noticed the emoji-pan someone had washed and left to dry next to the sink. I looked at it for a few seconds before deciding to try it.

I got a few eggs out of the fridge and had just separated them when Danielle walked into the kitchen. After the family moved out of the house, I had moved my coffee maker into the kitchen, and she was now eyeing the assortment of capsules available. By the time she had decided on one, I was mixing the egg yolks with milk and flour. She noticed the egg white in a separate bowl.

“What are you making?”

“Pancakes.” I just said, continuing on and ignoring her skeptical gaze.

I mixed the egg white with vanilla sugar and a tablespoon of egg white powder, causing her to perk up yet again.

“Are you sure you’re making Pancakes?”

“Very sure.” I insisted.

“Well, you seem to know your way around the kitchen. So, if this tastes horrible despite this confident display of yours, I’m gonna make fun of you!” she grinned.

Whipping the egg white mix stiff took quite a while. Long enough for Ava and Maggie to enter the kitchen and sit next to Danielle.

“He cooks?” I heard Maggie ask her mother.

“He claims he does.” Danielle answered, laughing when I shot her a look.

I carefully folded the egg yolk mixture into the stiff egg white, and filled the produced batter into the slots of the emoji-pan. I had bought the thing on a whim I could not explain myself, and I was absolutely expecting it to be crap, but it worked! The pancakes actually showed the faces on them.

After the first batch was done, I placed one on a plate for each of my skeptical spectators, surrounded them with raspberries, strawberries and whipped cream I got from the fridge, and dusted them all with a tiny amount of confectioner’s sugar before presenting it to them. I personally didn’t care about the raspberries, nor the extra kind of sugar, but after their taunting, I thought it should look as good as I knew it would taste.

“Holy!” I heard from Ava, followed by an “Mmmhmm!” from Maggie, after their first taste.

“These are great, Tim!” Danielle said with big eyes, after she tried them as well.

“See? Never doubt my skills again!” I said, pointing the spatula at her, and getting to work on the next batch to use up the batter I had produced.

“Is that the only thing you can make, or is there more I need to try?” she asked, grinning after hearing my assurance that I indeed knew more than pancake recipes. “When did you learn to cook like this?”

“It’s been more than two years since the last time Claire cooked anything for me. And even on the rare occasions when she accidentally made enough for all of us, I’d come home to find the leftovers in the trash can. So, I could either learn to cook, or turn into a fruitarian.” I answered matter of fact, causing Maggie and Danielle to stop chewing before regarding Ava and me with uncomfortable looks. “What? Did you think I was kidding when I told you all on Thanksgiving that I’ve had to buy my own groceries?”

Initially this caused the general mood in the kitchen to drop significantly. But I just kept telling them how much fun cooking had turned out to be, while I decorated the table with the different kinds of fruits and berries I bought the day before, as well as whipped cream, butter, syrup, and nutella. We could enjoy the pancakes however each of us wanted.

By the time I had finished the sixth batch of six pancakes, and used up all the batter, the rest of the family had joined us. I figured three pancakes per head, if John would join us when picking up his wife and daughter, would be enough for everyone. The kitchen was soon filled with happily chatting people appreciating the readily waiting breakfast.

“You made soufflé pancakes!? How did you get them to stay so fluffy?” Claire asked.

“Tablespoon of egg white powder. Adds protein as structure to hold it up, but doesn’t change the taste.”

“Ha! How did you get those silly faces on them?” Granny asked amused, to which I just held up the pan, showing her the different emojis in the separated slots.

“They’re a little sweet for me, but still good!” Aaron commented as I was cleaning up the kitchen while they ate.

“Yeah, well, keep in mind that I normally spend two or three hours each day in the gym. Though ... eating those while sitting around for weeks, waiting for my bones to mend, would probably be a bad idea.” I mused.

“When did you get so good at cooking? I never saw you in here!” Claire asked, causing Maggie and Danielle to exchange looks while Ava lowered her head.

“After I get home. So, either when you’re all out together or in bed.” I explained, biting my tongue when I wanted to finish that statement by actually saying ‘ ... or in bed together’.

“Then why did I never have to clean the kitchen in the mornings?” she followed up.

I pointed my thumb over my shoulder, drawing her attention to the already cleaned counter and stove.

“You might’ve noticed that you almost never had to clean the kitchen in the mornings. Even when you didn’t clean it yourself after you cooked. Who’d you think did that?”

“But we would’ve smelled it!” Aaron added.

I didn’t answer immediately. When I realized why that was, I sighed.

While it was true that they never noticed when I did cook in their house, I didn’t exclusively cook in their house. The majority of my learning process, that regularly left the easily noticeable smell of burned food and ill-advised seasonings behind, was done somewhere else.

“Well ... Tess and I enjoyed cooking together whenever we spent the evening at her place.” I supplied, while drying off the last bowl and then stored it away.

When I got back up and looked over the counter, I noticed two things. First, the mood had, once again, turned quite subdued from my comment. I realized this was the first time I had ever told them anything about my life with Tess. They were not expecting it, and probably didn’t know what to say now.

The other thing I noticed was that there were only two pancakes left, and Grandpa was just taking one of those, which caused my own mood to drop. I contemplated if I should say anything about it, but was saved by the doorbell.

“Oh, Morning!” I greeted John after opening the door for him. “Sorry again for waking you last night.”

“And I already told you not to worry about it!” He gave me a reassuring smile.

“Well, help yourself to breakfast in the kitchen! There’s only one pancake left, but I think it came out well.”

Instead of accompanying him to the kitchen and watching him eat as well, I turned to the stairway. Arriving upstairs I heard John’s voice again.

“Morning everyone! ... What’s with the mood in here, who died?”

I felt a sad smile stretch my lips, thinking about Tess again as I packed my bag.

About forty-five minutes later, I was just pulling up my pants after my morning shower, I heard Danielle call me downstairs. I went to investigate, not bothering to find a shirt first.

“What’s up?” I asked, stepping into the kitchen where the family was still assembled. To my surprise, they had already cleaned the table themselves.

“Ava just walked by your room and saw you’re packing. Are you leaving already!?” Claire asked.

“Yeah. Staples are out, so no need for you to look after me anymore. And you should all be safe now, so no need for me to look after you anymore, either.”

“Are you sure? I mean ... do you ... can’t you stay?” Ava asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed and insecure.

“I don’t have to leave, but why wouldn’t I?”

“ ... I’m worried.” she admitted after a few seconds.

“We all are, actually.” Aaron added, while the others gave me sullen looks.

“No need to be. Just to be sure, I’ll come by next week and install a surveillance system. But they’re gone and won’t show up ag...”

“We’re not worried about those guys.” Danielle interrupted me quickly. “We’re worried about you.”

“Why? I’m perfectly fine.” I said, earning me quite a few raised eyebrows.

“You sure about that?” Grandpa asked in a taunting voice, pointing at the still red cuts on my stomach and chest, my now dark blue and violet right side, the slightly less colorful forearms, the shiners under my eyes, the split lip, and the cut eyebrow.

“I already told you, It looks worse than it is!” I replied, starting to get annoyed.

“That’s not the ... only thing we’re worried about.” Danielle said, like she wanted to carefully hint at something.

“Well then, please enlighten me.”

“Tim ... we’re sorry.” Maggie started. “But when Daddy called Mom last night, Ava and I woke up too. And we ... kinda ... listened in on you and Mom.”

“I didn’t mention it last night.” Danielle continued. “But Ava told us what happened last week.”

“Last week?” I asked, shaking my head, signaling that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“The evening she took your painkillers.” Danielle tested.

“Evening? She was here in the morning.” I supplied, but it seemed like I just confirmed their concerns by not knowing what they were on about. Ava decided to fill me in.

“That day, after you had talked to Mom, she was really out of it. She was worried about you. We couldn’t just come check, because you told us to absolutely stay away from the house, but you also didn’t pick up your phone! So ... I thought I could just sneak in here and ... check on you for her.” Until then, her voice was borderline embarrassed, but as she continued, her voice became quiet and thoughtful, and she was wringing her hands. “But when I found you, you were totally out of it. You were lying half on your bed, and didn’t react to anything I said. Even when I took your clothes off and pulled you completely onto the mattress, you just grumbled. It ... scared me. And then I found your painkillers next to all the alcohol, and that scared me more. That’s why I was still here in the morning. I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

“And I have to agree, you seem to be drinking quite a lot. And not just for someone who isn’t supposed to drink at all!” Claire added.

“Tell me, apart from the two glasses I had yesterday, how much am I drinking exactly, that you feel the need to stage an intervention?” I asked, incredulously, looking from face to face. I didn’t hear an answer for a while, so I pressed it. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, people. Come on, tell me. I’d just love to hear how you all would even know about what I do.”

“It’s not about how much you drink, Tim.” Danielle deflected. “It’s that you drink at all. Regularly. Mixing it with medication. You started smoking. And, while I know now that it was necessary, I’m still somewhat concerned you so readily stepped in front of three men you knew were armed. Tim, your behavior is self destructive. And last night made it clear that it’s too much for you.”

I blinked at her. So, that’s what I get for opening up to the bitch. While I did thank her for the talk we had last night, and I actually really did appreciate her help and assurances, this went too far.

“Well, thanks for your concern.” I started, while secretly concluding that this was only because my exhausted mind had allowed them to know how much cash I stole. “Since we all know what, or better yet who, is causing my troubles, I don’t understand why you would argue against me leaving and putting some distance between me and that underlying cause. I mean, seriously? ‘Too much for me’!? I’m dealing with the shit hand you all dealt me! Since when do you people even give a fuck? Where’s this coming from?” When Claire opened her mouth to say something, I quickly added. “And don’t you dare tell me some shit like ‘We’re Family, of course we care’ again!”

I wasn’t sure whether I should be happy or angry when Claire actually closed her mouth instead of saying something else.

“Tim, I know I’ve been a shit excuse for a sister. I’m sorry for that! But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t care if you ... did something to yourself.” Ava explained quietly.

“Wow. Deja Vu.” I commented, causing quite a few confused gazes coming my way.

“What?” Danielle asked. It seemed she was the one in charge of this little session.

“Ava!” I called out, drawing her attention. “Remember your last birthday, when I gave you that little purse you so desperately wanted? You were so happy, you and your friends jumped around squealing like little girls, apologized for forgetting my birthday, and allowed me to stay for your party. How long did that last before you went back to treating me like crap again?”

“I...” Ava started to respond, but apparently wasn’t sure how to explain that.

“Truth is, I gave you expensive shit for your birthday, so you allowed me to stick around for a day. Now look at this situation. I gave you expensive shit for your birthday after solving your problem, so you want me to stick around for ... How long’s it going to last this time?”

“Is it so hard to believe that we actually care about you?” Grandma asked in a disappointed voice.

“How was your breakfast, Granny?” I asked calmly, surprising her with that sudden change of topic.

“It ... it was good. You’re an excellent cook.” she answered hesitantly.

“Thank you! Where’s mine?” I asked, just as calmly as before, while waving my hand towards the cleaned table. Then I pointed at Grandpa. “Two minutes ago, this guy claimed that, with all my wounds, I was unfit to go home. And yet, you had no problem watching me and all of my wounds make your breakfast for half an hour, then clean up the kitchen while you ate, and not once did any of you stop to think ‘I wonder what he’s gonna have for breakfast’. It might seem like a petty thing to you, but for me it’s just more of the same. You’re telling me how much you care about me, while completely missing the fact that I’m the only one not getting anything to eat.”

“I can make you something!” Claire said, as she jumped out of her seat.

“Not the damn point! I shouldn’t have to remind my own fucking mother that her son needs food to survive! This is exactly the kind of thing I was waiting for. You cared for me for as long as you needed me, and now that this problem is solved, the first chance you get, you immediately demonstrate how little any of you thinks about me. So, yes, it actually is hard to believe you, Granny. I don’t know what you’re putting up this act for, but I’m not planning on sticking around long enough to find out!”

“But it’s not an act!” Claire protested.

“You keep saying that since the shit in the parking lot happened. But your actions say something different. What changed?”

“It’s gonna be different from now on!” Logan participated in this show for the first time.

“I’m not asking what you’re planning on doing, ‘cause I wouldn’t believe it anyway. I’m asking what changed! You want me to believe that, after you all spent years neglecting, humiliating, ridiculing, and hurting me, you suddenly decided that you love and care about me? That’s a little drastic to just happen for no damn reason. A change like that doesn’t just fall out of the fucking sky! What the fuck happened for you, of all people, to tell me something like that!?”

“A lot happened, Tim.” Danielle noted.

“Like what? Because, as far as I know, the only mentionable thing that happened to them during the last two weeks was learning how much money I took. But please, go on, give me a reason why I should believe their claims of caring about me, while I wait to finally get to an IHOP for breakfast.”

This caused them to exchange looks between each other. I think this was the moment they finally realized that this wasn’t going to be fixed as easily as they thought.

“What if they were just shocked about seeing you hurt and covered in blood?” Danielle said, getting audibly desperate.

“What if they saw me like that multiple times before already?” I debunked her claim. “Remember, I came home from school, bleeding and bruised, quite a few times. Twice it was so bad I landed in the ER! Not my first broken bone, either! The only one who cared was Claire, and - again - how long did that last before she also simply ignored it like the others? We talked about this last night, Danielle. As far as I can see, nothing’s changed. There is no reason for me to believe what they’re claiming now. Trust me. Just wait a few weeks and we’re back to normal. I’ll finish packing now.”

“Timothy! Despite what you think, we ARE worried, we ARE your parents, and we are TELLING you to stay!” Aaron raised his voice, trying to put his foot down.

“Aaron! I told you, you can’t...” Danielle tried to put him back on track. Apparently she knew that making demands would do more damage than good.

“Or what?” I challenged Aaron, interrupting Danielle’s protest with a calm but mocking tone. “What you gonna do if I leave? You seem to forget, you put yourself in a position where I don’t give a damn about your paternity status anymore, and material threats are really all you had left. But even those are useless since you made me get a job. You can’t cut my allowance that you’re not paying me, or take the keys for the car that’s not in your name. Go ahead, ground me! I’ll better make my way home then.”

“We could just call the police and have them bring you home.” Grandpa announced. I could see Danielle’s shoulders slump as she looked down at the table in defeat. I softly called out to her, causing her to raise her head.

“Danielle. See what I mean? Yes, granted, I didn’t make this easy for them in any way, but can you blame me for it? All they had to do was respect my boundaries, and give me the time needed to make me believe they actually want this. Just like you told them to. But after all the shit they put me through, they decide to mend fences by forcing me to accept their terms, and if I don’t comply, I get threats. You still want to tell me they’re doing this for me?” Then I shifted my attention to Grandpa. “Go ahead and call the police. I may be a minor, but only by months. As long as I don’t miss school, keep working a job and pay my rent, and don’t get involved in anything illegal, they won’t force me to come back here.”

I went upstairs, grabbed my stuff from the bathroom, and dropped it in my sports bag, not caring about the shampoo possibly leaking onto my clothes. I thought about how this escalated so quickly. Somehow, we went from them showing concern and trying to do the right thing, to throwing accusations and threats around in record time. All this time I was secretly wishing for these people to be my family again, to show some concern and consideration for me. But the moment I got the first indication of them actually doing just that, I immediately got defensive and actively looked for ways to prove their insincerity.

Was it my fault? Was I unreasonable in wanting an actual reason why I should even risk trusting them again? I didn’t know, but I could admit to myself that I was simply too scared of being shat on again to just dive into it.

When my bag was packed, I made my way back down the stairs. Putting on my shoes, I noticed them standing in the hallway watching me.

“Alright. See you in about a week, maybe.” I said before lifting my eyes to look at them. “And just on the off chance you actually care, though I really don’t see a reason why you would, I’m not planning to take a toaster-bath anytime soon, since I still have to graduate. After that ... no idea, yet. But I’ll figure it out.”

And with that, I left the house, hopped into my Jeep, and drove home.