Chapter Fourteen (Rick's POV)

So much for my beauty sleep. My eyes had just closed when I heard Vic rapping his knuckles against the door, yelling for me to get up and get ready.

It was time to face the music. Or, rather, Satan and his wife.

The thought made me scowl as I threw myself into a sitting position, looking down at the pillow that I had ended up smashing to death in my arms. I rolled my eyes and chucked it at the nearest wall before slowly sliding to the end of the bed to rest my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands.

Yesterday felt like a nightmare and it was only going to get worse from here on out.

Joy.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, staring at the floor now. It was hard to relax. It had only been one night and I was already going insane without waking up to see Devin lying beside me, all curled up under my arm and his breath against my collarbone. Imagining it only made the issue in my pants worse.

I fell back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling, my arms spread out. All right, Rick. Concentrate.

The whole reason you're suffering through this crap-tastic treatment and even going as far as to see those people again, is all for Devin. And it was going to be worth it in the end when his dad figured out that I would never hurt Devin. Sure, I made a mess of the hospital room, but why would he ever think I'd hurt Devin?

I took a bullet for him.

Whatever. I'd never understand parents. They were like the weather. Hot, cold. Stormy, calm. A real pain in the ass. Part of me would never, ever want to deal with that bullshit... I shot upright, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes.

Oh god. No. No kids. Definitely not. I could see it now.

"Mr. Patterson, is there any reason your son thought he could bring a weapon to school?"

Talk about bad parenting.

I shook my head and rose to my feet. I was thinking too much. I only had to focus on one thing at a time. Main goal was to get Devin back. Main task, try to tolerate being in the same room with my so-called parents for an hour or so. I just had to keep the goal in mind.

It's for Devin. I worked far too hard to give up on Devin now. I had done so much just so that I could call Devin mine. I wasn't going to let a bunch of self-centered bigot bastards get in the way of the one thing that I finally had all to myself. The one thing that kept me going. And I wasn't going to let myself fall down.

It wasn't my style to lay down easily.

I'm not giving up.

Devin is mine.

I went to my dresser, pulling on my best pair of leather pants and tearing through my closet to tug on my buckled motorcycle boots. Through all the digging around, I found my old studded belt and hooked it through the loops of my pants, then grabbed my black v-neck shirt, tugging it on over my head. I grabbed my leather jacket and cell phone and headed out into the hallway just in time to see Blake slipping out of his room in a fashion that said I didn't tell Danny where I was going, hopefully he won't find out.

For the love of God and all the shit He made.

"Ooo," I cooed, making Blake whirl around to glare at me, "Someone's being sneaky. Didn't tell the wife you were leaving, eh? Lucy's not gonna be happy." Blake's brow furrowed in a scowl as he tugged on his jacket, straightening and buttoning the last button on his fancy button up shirt. The one he bought only to wear at Danny's graduation.

"Shut up, Rick. I told you I was going." He replied, heading for the stairs. I was right beside him in a matter of seconds, rolling my eyes.

"And I thought I told you to stay here. This is my problem, Blake." I told him in irritation as we headed down the stairs. As soon as we landed on the bottom one, Blake grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him. I glared and he glared back.

Damn, he was getting good at the glaring thing.

I taught him much too well.

"I don't know what happened back then, with that guy Alex or why you went from the protective older brother to the douche bag who took a bullet for some kid that he originally wanted for a booty call. I won't ask you either because I know A) You won't tell me, and B) I respect the fact that everyone has secrets, but you've carried enough shit on your plate, Rick. It's about time you finally had someone to back you up and I'm your brother, whether you want to admit it or not, so I'm the only one you've got." Blake explained, his voice sharp and surprisingly, intelligent.

I studied his face for a while, watching his determined expression grow stronger by the second and that's when I realized that there was really no stopping this kid. He was a stubborn jackass and to be honest, I wasn't going to stop him now. He had a point, I mean, about the whole backing up thing anyway.

"Fine." I said at last. Blake backed off, looking pleased with himself, but I wasn't about to give him a totally easy time today.

"But when we get back, I'm telling Danny you snuck off without telling him where you were really going." I answered. Blake flinched and whirled to open his mouth in a spew of insults, but Vic made his appearance from the hallway, making us glance over. He looked like he was ready for a funeral wearing an untucked white shirt under a black blazer and a matching tie with pants.

"Time to go, boys. You ready?" He asked, tucking something into the breast pocket of his shirt. I gave him a droll stare, my arms folded over my chest.

"I'm so excited, I'm about to piss with antici...pation." I put unnecessary emphasis on the last bit of the word. Vic rolled his eyes as he took out his truck keys, leading us out of the house.

"Try not to be that much of an ass while we're there, will you?" He asked, getting into the truck. I looked at Blake, who cocked a brow as if daring me to make another remark. I scoffed as I got in beside him.

"I promise to be a good boy, uncle Vic, if you promise to buy me a Kid's Meal."

"Bet your parents can't wait to see how great a guardian I've been." Vic grunted under his breath.

"I bet they'll be surprised we're alive." Blake blurted, then looked out the window with a calm expression now. Looks like he had all night to calm down, but I could still see his fingers flexing and his knuckles cracking. Vic glanced at us in the rearview mirror before taking off. Thank goodness he turned the radio on this time, although, I was a bit irritated as AC/DC's Highway to Hell came on through the speakers.

"Is it just me or is this painfully ironic?" I asked under my breath, watching the cars go by on the highway. Blake grimaced while Vic shook his head and continued down the road in silence. I was itching to dig into my pockets for my cigarettes, but I resisted the urge until we got to the parking lot.

"You guys go on ahead. I'm gonna have a smoke." I said.

"That stuff kills." Vic muttered as he wheeled Blake away from it, as if he were still a five-year-old kid.

"So do parents." I answered. Vic glared, then turned back toward the hospital, but Blake stayed behind to wait. I lit up my cigarette, but only took a drag before my cell phone rang. I blinked and took it out, seeing Devin's name filling the screen.

My cloudy day brightened.

"Dev." I stated, taking another drag on the cigarette as Blake turned to give me a curious stare. I glared at him, then gave him my back as I heard shuffling in the background before a relieved sigh.

"Hey, what're you doing?"

"At the hospital for a fun filled day with the family."

"About the treatment? You're serious about this."

"Don't sound so surprised. If I want something, I go for it."

"I didn't think you wanted the treatment."

"I don't."

"Then what the hell?"

"I want you," I muttered, averting my eyes as I flicked the ash at the end of my cigarette to the ground, scraping my foot over it as I heard Devin suck in a deep breath, "And if I have to prove to your dad by taking on a stupid therapist, then fine, whatever." There was a short silence afterwards and I was almost afraid that he'd hung up, but then I heard Devin let out his breath as if he'd been holding it that whole time.

"Rick... If you want, I can go with you to your first session. My dad can't possible decline just because I want to see how this goes."

"I don't think so, Dev-"

"Please? I'm the one that got you into this whole mess in the first place-"

"I told you it's not your fault."

"You say tomato, I say to-mah-to. Just call me as soon as you get out, all right? I'll come over as soon as I can." Devin sounded rushed now and I could hear what sounded like him running down some stairs.

"Yea, sure. Look, I don't want you to get your ass fried more than it already is, so I'm gonna let you go, but I will call you when I get out... And we can talk about meeting up somewhere." I explained.

"Okay," Devin sounded relieved, "That sounds great... I'll talk to ya later, Rick!" He was about to hang up, but I caught him.

"Oh yea," I added, "And if I don't make it out alive, I just wanted to know that I love you and I was thinking about the first night we had sex when I died."

"RICK."

"Gotta go, baby, later." I hung up and turned to see Blake staring at me, lifting a brow with his arms folded over his chest. I put out my cigarette and shrugged at him before brushing past, heading to the hospital before he caught up with me.

"His dad will slaughter you if he sneaks out to meet you."

"His dad can kiss my ass."

"He might just do that- With his foot."

"I'd like to see that geezer try." I snorted. Although, I'm pretty sure Ace Carter was in his late thirties still and made him anything, but an old geezer. We walked into the main lobby where Vic was talking with the woman at the reception desk. Blake and I leaned against a wall, taking in the sterile atmosphere while a couple of kids ran around the table with their dinosaur action figures.

Out the corner of my eye, I could tell Blake was getting anxious again. He was glancing toward the double door entrance every so often, then back at the kids that would occasionally bump too close or yell too loud.

"Chill or they might think you're the one with mental problems." I snorted. Blake glared at me before his expression relaxed as he took a deep breath.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Okay, Chihuahua. Want a little schizophrenia with those Tourettes?"

"Oh, shut up. What about you? You're more of an asshole than usual."

"I'm brushing myself up for the false parental units. You think I'm doin' good so far?"

"You'll drown them with that wave of sarcasm." Blake snorted, then backed up as one of the kids giggled wildly, but started to trip on her shoelace. For some reason that, to this very day, I don't understand, I reached out and caught her before her face hit the floor. She gasped and looked up at me before smiling, her two front teeth missing.

"Thankies, sir!" She waved before rushing off to tell her brother, who was sitting on the floor now with a T-rex doll. I frowned and looked at Blake to see him staring at me.

"What?" I demanded.

"From asshole to daddy in two seconds flat, eh? Now who's schizo?" Blake drawled, raising an eyebrow and smirking. I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the chest, making him wince and glare at me.

"It was instinct." I answered. Blake started to smirk again, but it fell apart faster than it could appear and I watched his expression grow icily calm. I followed his gaze and found exactly what the source of his sudden mood change was.

The source of most of our problems and the source of our genetics.

Meet Mr. and Mrs. Patterson.

Dr. Kilgor led them in first before saying something and parting off to meet with Vic at the front desk, leaving the lovely couple to stand awkwardly at the center of the waiting room.

Now, I'm pretty sure I've never elaborated on this wonderful pair, but that's because I didn't want to, nor did I really need to, until now.

Mrs. Mariah Patterson wasn't exactly ugly, physically anyway. Her personality was about as fugly as a Mexican hairless crossbred with a rat. Heavy eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow, concealer, and all that other gunk chicks put on their faces hid her age and drug lines. Her hair was still as black as her heart tied back into a ponytail with her long bangs tucked behind her ears. Her eyes were as green as a cat's and she wore a matching shirt over a pair of black tights that disappeared into a pair of blue heals to go with her ruffled blouse.

Her husband, Stanton Patterson, wasn't much to look at. He looked the same way he did when he'd shoved us into Vic's car. His dark hair was a tousled mess, almost touching his shoulders and his eyes the same icy cold blue. He obviously still had no sense of decency and wore a simple white t-shirt with torn blue jeans and dark Doc Martens.

Just when I thought our day couldn't get any better, Mariah had spotted us and her green eyes widened. She grabbed Stanton's arm, making him snap his head to look at her before he followed his gaze and those icy eyes got colder. In two seconds flat, Mariah was approaching us with a look of awe on her face, her eyes drifting from Blake to me, then back again.

"Blake? Rick?" She managed. I started to say something sarcastic, but Blake tried to inconspicuously elbow me in the gut before looking at them with a stoic expression that I didn't think he had.

"Yea." He replied to her. Mariah brought her fingertips to her dark painted lips tenatively and she looked like she was debating whether to reach out and hug Blake or not and to be honest, I'd crush her windpipe in my fist if she tried.

That surprised me. The streak of protectiveness that I hadn't felt this strongly, around Blake anyway, hadn't been around since middle school and even then, it wasn't this powerful.

"You're so tall now," Mariah murmured at last, lowering her hand, "Both of you are. You're practically men now."

"Actually, I'm the man. Blake's the boy." I put in, unable to resist the urge to smirk. Blake glared at me for a split second before Stanton made a rude noise in the back of his throat.

"Don't do anything dramatic, Mariah. Obviously Vic hasn't taught them a thing since they left." He muttered, giving Mariah's shoulder a none-too-kind jerk. Mariah flinched and whirled on him with a fury that would have made Satan piss his pants.

"Don't you dare tell me not to be shocked! These are my boys, Stanton! I don't care whether you gave a damn or not! Now shut up and let me talk with them! If you're going to act like a child, go to the cafeteria." She snarled, going from precious obedient wife to hysterical freak the next. Stanton glared daggers at her, but fell silent. Unfortunately, he didn't leave either.

Mariah turned back to us and relaxed again, her eyes drifting over us as if she was taking her time to absorb what was in front of her.

"I can't believe it... You're both all grown up now," She paused, apparently thinking about something that made her eyes glitter for a second before she blinked a few times, "How old are you both now?" I wanted to tell her to shove it, but Blake took charge before I could.

"I just turned twenty. Rick's going to be twenty-five in a couple weeks." Blake answered for her. Mariah looked choked up now as she chewed on her lower lip.

"You're both graduated then?" She asked.

"Rick is... I didn't exactly have enough credits." Blake answered dully.

"What? You skip school or somethin', boy?" Stanton demanded, looking irritated with the thought and I snorted, folding my arms over my chest.

"Oh, excuse me. We forgot to give you the memo, sir." I replied. He flashed me a repungent sneer that I gladly returned. Mariah ignored him and looked at me now, her hands clasping together.

"Ricky, please don't-"

"No, you don't. And don't call me Ricky."

"Rick," Blake said suddenly, "We should go find the meeting room now." I wanted to stay and basically throw everything I had at them, but suddenly, my mind was blank on witty commentary and all I could do was nod in response as Mariah's eyes welled with visible tears. We turned away from them and started to go, but not before I could hear them talking.

"They hate me, Stan... Oh god, I knew they'd hate me." Mariah was sobbing.

"Damn it, Mariah, you said you wouldn't cry."

"And you! You bastard, don't you give two shits about what they think about you?!"

"Several years ago, you wouldn't have dared ask me that because you feel the same way. They were too burdensome."

"Too expensive is what you mean! And you were tired of the school calling to ask why Blake-y was covered in bruises! Damn it, I hate you, Stan!"

The sound of clicking heels followed, but we didn't turn around and kept heading past the reception desk to just keep walking in no real direction. We were quiet, though. I even surprised myself, not knowing what to say. To Blake. To the Pattersons. To anyone in particular. It was like all that built up sarcasm I had prepared crumbled to pieces before I could even use the best of it.

Well, shit. This sucks.

"She looks old." I said at last. Oh, smooth, Rick. Smooth. Blake glanced at me, then down at the floor as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

"She's gotta be like, what? Forty something now?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I." We were quiet again after that and just walked in a big circle for a while until we heard our name over the intercom. Sharing looks, we headed back toward the front desk, but saw Dr. Kilgor standing outside a room on the way back and she was holding a clipboard, now dressed in a very fancy, expensive looking silk white suit.

"Rick. Blake. About time, we were looking all over for you. Come on, let's get this show on the road." She exclaimed, giving us one of her Emmy Award-winning smiles. It was almost terrifying at how cheerful she was.

"Your optimisim is starting to freak me out, doc." I muttered as I brushed past her inside, hearing her chuckle behind me as we entered the meeting room.

It was the stereotypical meeting. A long oval table in the center of the room. At the head of the table was an empty seat, which I guessed belonged to Dr. Kilgor. On the left side was Dr. Hoffman and the Pattersons, then on the right was Vic and two seats that I assumed belonged to Blake and I.

Lastly was a seat occupied by someone I didn't recognize. She was a petite woman in an entirely blue business suit and a pair of matching glasses sitting on her head, revealing a pair of coffee brown eyes to match her short brown hair that was held back with a butterfly pin.

"Well, now that the guests of honor are here, we'll begin," Dr. Kilgor said, closing the door and heading to her spot at the head of the table, "Morning. I'm  Dr. Patricia Kilgor. Along with Dr. Rita Hoffman, we have analyzed some data that we combined with observations made by Mr. Vic Patterson to come to the conclusions of Rick Patterson's health. We've done a few tests, including blood work, to make sure the results were accurate. There is no denying that it's not entirely based on the need for anger management, but also that Rick is currently in a state of physical pain due to the events as of late."

"Physical pain?" Mariah demanded, a frown creasing her brow as she reached up to wipe at a stray smear of mascara. Dr. Kilgor glanced at her curiously, then at Dr. Hoffman, who coughed awkwardly.

"Indeed," She answered at last, "Four days ago, Rick was shot by a man named Alexander Tate. While the bullet barely missed his stomach, it did graze it enough so that we had to perform surgery and a blood transfusion. He's still in the process of recovery and the fact that his body is working hard to fight infections and to regenerate the tissue causes him pain, in turn-"

"You let my son get shot?" Mariah demanded heatedly, turning her Hellish glare on Vic, who stiffened in his seat, getting that deer-in-the-headlights look. I took my chance and snorted rudely.

"Might I remind you that I'm technically an adult and no one's kid?" I demanded. Mariah's eyes flickered with hurt, but she said nothing more and Dr. Kilgor cleared her throat before continuing. Even as she did, I felt Stanton's icy glare pinned on me hatefully for hurting his wife. I wanted to ask him what the hell he thought he was looking at, but I kept myself restrained.

"Besides," Dr. Kilgor explained, "Rick wasn't shot doing anything harmful. In fact, he was shot in the process of protecting a young man named Devin Carter. The two were in the Guitar World in town when the man assaulted Rick for unknown reasons. Also, his second visit to our hospital was caused by a similiar incident in which a man named Damien Ryans had attempted to harm Mr. Carter, but Rick was present once again and prevented anything serious from occuring. However, his second visit is when we finally realized that his hostility is a threat to not only those around him, but also himself. It'd be extremely helpful to know if there is a history of violence or hostility in the family."

All eyes were on Stanton and Mariah. Stanton pretended to be thinking, his eyes averting and tracing the walls arond the room while Mariah was sitting stiffly, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Not that we can think of," Stanton said after a while, "My father was an alcoholic and his wife smoked for some time, but nothing violent. Mariah's side of the family were strict Christians and were highly against any sort of violence."

"All right," Dr. Kilgor mused, writing something down on her clipboard before looking up at Stanton again, "Also, may I inquire the reason for you and your wife putting the boys up for adoption shortly after Rick entered middle school?" Mariah looked like she was about to open her mouth before closing it and looking at the table. Stanton frowned.

"I had recently lost my job at the liquor store down the street and Mariah was still trying to get a job in the next town over, so we were short on cash. My father refused to let us have a loan for our trailer and Mariah's parents were still holding a grudge about her getting pregnant in high school. We didn't want them to grow up in a poor environment, so we sent them to live with Vic, who had his own business and enough money to provide for them." He lied. Of course, not all of it was a lie, most of it was the truth.

He was just leaving out those really important details.

You know, the ones where he got rid of us because he couldn't stand us. The ones where he was the reason for Blake's bruises, Blake's fear, Blake's hate. My hate, my rage.

The more I thought about it, the more my gut churned as I realized where my temper came from.

"I see. Mrs. Patterson, is this true?" Dr. Kilgor asked Mariah, who jolted a little in her seat before looking up. She stared at Dr. Kilgor for the longest time before she met my eyes. I couldn't help glaring at her as I clenched my hands over my arms, keeping my lips sealed, even though I wanted to snap at her.

"Yes," Mariah said slowly, making Blake tense beside me, "We were struggling severely and... Well, we were frustrated. Times were difficult and I had an extra year of high school to attend to get my GED. We, uh, didn't exactly plan a second child, but we did and we tried to do our best to make ends meet, but with the cash low, jobs getting harder to find, and tensions rising..."

"Tensions?" Dr. Kilgor prompted. I could just see the heat emitting from Stanton as he refused to look at her, but those icicles in his eye sockets were growing colder and colder by the second. We'd have a freaking blizzard in here if he didn't stuff it.

"Well," Mariah was still talking slowly as if she were attempting to choose her words wisely, "I was dealing with a lot of stress and the fact that I had given birth to Blake at home and not in a hospital had made me weaker, so I was getting sick often and I was so stressed that I ended up smoking and taking pain killers. Stanton would come home very late from drinking with his friends and from working hard at the factory in town, so..."

"Mrs. Patterson, how many drinks did your husband normally take?" Dr. Hoffman asked now, scribbling something on a clipboard.

"Usually a couple," Stanton said now, nodding slowly before nodding more confidently in a whole act to seem innocent, "I never drove home. I had a co-worker bring me home and I usually went to bed afterwards."

"Is this true, Mrs. Patterson?" Dr. Kilgor asked. Mariah was stiff and tense again, like a corpse with the color having drained from her face and her eyes searching from Blake to me as if she were looking to us for help, but she'd get no help from us.

Not in a million years.

"Yea, mostly," Mariah said at last and Stanton might as well have killed her then and there by the look on his face, "Sometimes we'd order takeout or I'd cook something up. He'd go to bed and I'd give the boys a bath... We had to bath at once to save water, you know? Then I got them dressed and ready for bed..." She choked off, like the thought of looking at the past was painful.

And it was, but for Blake and I, it was a totally different reason.

"All right," Dr. Kilgor said at last, softly now, "We're going to take a short break. If anyone's hungry, they're serving lunch in the cafeteria now. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes." Everyone nodded and got up. I stayed seated for a second, waiting as Vic and Blake went out one room while the doctors and the woman in blue went out the other.

"You're so full of shit, it's leaking out your ears." I said at last, getting to my feet when I looked at Stanton, who'd been about to whirl on Mariah. Instead, he locked eyes with me. He was on his feet now too and in all honesty, he reminded me of Devin's dad, only more murderous and Hulk-like.

"You better watch that lip of yours, boy. It might just get you in trouble." He snapped sharply and I relished in the fact that I could smirk at him and not have it slapped off my face. I folded my arms over my chest.

"The threat was scary when I was a kid, but I've had plenty of practice beating up bigger baddies than you, so now, I can look at you and tell you to shove that right up your sphincter." I replied, loving the hot sensation of satisfaction as his eyes blazed.

"Open your mouth one more time, boy. I'm daring you. I'm not stupid. I know just how to hide a dead body." Stanton sneered.

"Closet doesn't work, Slim Shady. The septic tank is the way to go."

"You sorry little-"

"Stop," Mariah cried, leaping to her feet, "Just stop it! Stanton, how could you say those things?! He's our son!"

"Keep telling yourself that," I snapped, turning my gaze and her and watching her freeze, "You're acting pretty sugary sweet right now and I know what you're doing. You're gonna pin it all on him, aren't you? Aw, now that's true love now, isn't it? Well, what do you think if I maybe accidentally slipped out that you're the reason Blake isn't a good swimmer?"

Mariah's face paled as she took a small step back, gasping as if I had punched her in the chest.

"Fuck this." Stanton snarled and started to walk around the table. I felt giddy when he reached out to grab me, just as the door flew open and Blake came in. Stanton had leapt back like he neared fire before he regained his senses.

"Knock on the goddamn door, you brat!" He barked. Blake stiffened for a second, but to my immense pleasure, his eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists.

"This is not your house and I'm not your child, so you can take your order and shove it with the sun doesn't shine." He answered in an icily calm voice. I glanced at Stanton with a wickedly cocky smirk, watching his expression melt into a look of confusion.

"We're not kids anymore," I told him, unable to resist the urge to keep grinning at him, "We're now on the same playing field, so just because you make a tackle, doesn't mean we can't either. So why not save us all the trouble and just sit down like the good old man you are and let the meeting continue. After all, we're all adults here, aren't we?" Stanton glared daggers at me and he looked ready to stand his ground until Vic and the other came back. He headed back to his seat and sat beside Mariah, who'd plopped in her seat numbly.

"All righty," Dr. Kilgor smiled, "Pleasure to be back. Now, we were discussing your situation, the one that led to the adoption of Rick and Blake by their uncle, Mrs. Patterson?" Everyone was staring at Mariah now, who stared at Blake and I like a skeleton.

She had this weird expression on her face. It was enough to make me frown. It was like she was coming to terms with something, that or debating what lie to spew out her big mouth. Instead, she caught us off guard by clearing her throat, but her eyes didn't leave mine now.

"I lied," She stated, making Stanton stare at her in utter confusion, "Stanton usually came home drunk and I'd have to take the children into the bathroom so we could bath in privacy without his yelling... Or hitting. When I came out, I'd send the boys to bed and go cook him something to eat, but... He wouldn't sit there and yell at me. He'd go grab one of the boys and start yelling at them. I tried to stop him at first, believe me, but he would get so mad at me and my involvement only made it worse..."

Everyone was deathly silent now. Even Blake, who seemed to be having issues controlling that stoic face of his.

"And I just couldn't take it anymore," Mariah managed, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes before trailing dark lines of eyeliner down her face, "I didn't want them to deal with it, I didn't want to deal with it... Rick was outside with one of the neighbor boys and I decided that I was just... going to put Blake out of his misery. So I... I grabbed... I didn't want him to suffer! I really didn't! I just wanted it to be over quickly!"

"You tried to drown him." Dr. Kilgor filled in, her voice hollow now. Vic looked sick to his stomach now and Stanton was staring at her in disbelief, like he'd never heard this story. How could he possibly not know it? He was outside with me at the time.

I could remember him watching me when I was playing with that neighbor kid, some nerdy looking kid that just hung out with me because I had Pokemon cards. I remembered hearing Blake scream from the bathroom, but my dad hadn't heard him. He'd gotten drunk and passed out on the porch, so I went inside and I heard splashing and gasping.

I felt like I had just fell back in time or something. I felt my heart pounding in my ears, my legs carrying me down the hallway toward the bathroom that was left open a bit. I opened the door and saw Mariah leaning over the tub, sobbing as she held Blake's head under.

He had only been a toddler, his little hands grabbing at Mariah's arms, his nails raking down her skin. His legs were kicking and pushing, his whole body flailing with his head below the surface of the soapy water. I saw a fountain of bubbles exploding to the surface and I had done the first thing I could.

I screamed and Mariah had screamed at the same time, letting go. Blake had surfaced, his wet hair stuck to his face as he sobbed and gasped for air, grabbing at the side of the tub. Mariah had whirled around on me, her eyes wide and scary.

"Ricky! Ricky, don't tell daddy, okay, baby? Don't tell daddy! If you tell daddy what mommy tried to do... Daddy will hurt Blake again, okay? Baby, do you understand?" She demanded, grabbing me by the shoulders and giving me a violent shake. I could only nod, gaping at her in horror.

She'd tried to kill my brother.

My baby brother.

She'd whirled around and pulled Blake out of the water and set him on the floor. He was still sobbing, choking and screaming. Mariah had grabbed a towel and thrown it on him before shoving him at me.

"Take care of your brother, Ricky. Always take care of your baby brother, cuz... Mama can't," She managed, tears streaming down her face, "Mommy's gotta go take care of daddy now." She had fled the bathroom, leaving me with Blake, who was clinging around my neck, his screams filling my head.

"Rick. Blake. Can you verify this?" Dr. Kilgor asked, snapping me out of my stupor. I blinked and looked at her, confused for a second before nodding. I felt a familiar pain in my chest now and I shifted uncomfortably as Mariah sobbed, covering her face with her hands. Stanton was staring right at me now, but I couldn't read his expression.

"All right," Dr. Kilgor explained, her voice still eeriely calm, "Stress, financial issues, and depression played as key factors in the treatment of the boys. As much as I hate asking this, can you explain the symptoms of violence within the household?" Mariah choked for a while and coughed before Dr. Hoffman handed her a box of Kleenexes.

I wanted to look at Blake and see his reaction that the truth had finally gotten out, but Stanton wouldn't stop staring at me and I felt like if I broke eye contact, he'd snap and do something stupid, so I kept his stare as Mariah managed to compose herself.

"H-He used to grab Blake out of bed at night and bring him into the kitchen just to hit him and tell me why I shouldn't have gotten p-pregnant. He'd tell me that we were wasting money. He'd yell and he'd yell even more everytime Blake made a noise and he was only a child, so he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop crying and he'd only get hit harder and I did try to stop him, but he'd throw something at me or threaten to leave or hurt Blake even more, so I couldn't do anything... He would get the belt sometimes if Blake came out of his room or if Rick tried to do something he didn't like. He'd... get so mad over the smallest things. If the eggs weren't cooked right, if the boys didn't call him sir, if the lightbulb went out and he'd take it out on all of us..."

For some reason, just hearing her explain everything that had happened made the air feel icy cold now. Like the tundra had moved in and was staying for good.

I finally looked away to look at Blake and he was staring right at Mariah, his expression all molded back into that dead calm look. Damn, he was good. Even I was having issues now. I wanted to hit Mariah and her husband.

I wanted to jump across the table and beat Stanton with a belt. I wanted to slam him into a wall. I wanted to slam his head into his dinner. And most of all, I wanted to shove Mariah's head under water and holder her there until the water turned black with her make up, until she left no more explosions of bubbles.

The rest of the meeting was Mariah explaining the whole situation of why we put up for adoption and why she couldn't keep us, why Stanton didn't want to keep us. All the while, I noticed that there was one person who seemed to be even more composed than Blake.

And that was the woman in blue.

She was sitting there, one leg crossed over the other and her eyes not even paying attention to Mariah or Stanton. In fact, her eyes were locked right on me in a dark stare with an unreadable expression.

Jesus Christ, she reminded me of some cougar creeping in the bars that I used to hang out at.

The bars that I could really use right about now.

Finally, the meeting ended and Stanton and Mariah were escorted out by Dr. Hoffman while Dr. Kilgor stayed behind to talk to us privately.

"I apologize if that was... more emotional than we thought," Dr. Kilgor said quietly, but Blake and I didn't say a word, so she continued, "I'll take this chance to introduce you to the state's leading psychologist, specializing in anger management." She bowed her head to the woman in blue who rose to her feet and that was when I caught sight of the recorder she had hiding in the sleeve of her blue jacket, which made me glare at her.

Oh, that sneaky bitch.

"I'm Dr. Vanessa J. Romero. It's a pleasure to finally meet the mystery family." She mused.

"Not a mystery if you record it." I snorted. Blake's eyes flashed and he looked at Dr. Romero, who shocked us by letting a smile curl her lips. Dr. Kilgor coughed awkwardly.

"Dr. Romero, I know you said you'd do anything to help, but-"

"But nothing," Dr. Romero replied, then smiled right at me now, "Don't worry, this is between you, me, and the people in this room. I'd never violate the confidentiality of a client and psychologist, however, I'm curious... Wouldn't you want me to turn this into the authorities? Surely they'll have something to say about the several crimes committed. Domestic violence, DUI, child negligence, attempted suicide, and attempted murder."

"I don't want them to hide from me in prison." I drawled sarcastically.

"Rick, this isn't funny," Vic snapped, making me frown at him, "I didn't... I didn't know about Mariah. I didn't know she tried... that."

"We don't talk about it much." I muttered.

"Rick, take this seriously! Dr. Romero's right, they've committed a lot more crimes than I was aware of and this is your mental health we're talking about!" Vic scolded, his fists clenching on the table. I felt a pang of irritation go through me.

Why would we discuss what happened with him? So what if he was our guardian? Thanks, we appreciate it, but we didn't ask for his help.

"Now, now, Mr. Patterson," Dr. Romero smiled, making everyone look at her again, "There's no need to rain on Rick's parade. In fact, I admit his sarcastic defense mechanism."

"Woman, this is my personality. Welcome to it." I snorted. Vic made a noise of distress while Dr. Kilgor just patted his shoulder in sympathy. Blake was rubbing his temples now as if he was getting the biggest headache in the world, and I had to agree. I could feel the dull throbbing in the back of my head.

And I wanted to call Devin.

I wanted to tell him... everything. The urge to just lie down next to him and just tell him everything that happened, not just in the meeting, but every little thing was overwhelming. I was tempted to just get up and walk out without another word, but Devin was the reason I was here.

No, not that it was his fault, but that was my goal.

That's right.

All of this Hell is just so I can have a few minutes to hold Devin in my arms again. To sink against the pillows, my hands touching every part of him and watching him writhe under my touch. I wanted to watch him ride me, his hands searching my face and my name pouring past his lips.

Well, shit, now I was hard.

Maybe I really did have a dirty mind...

Nah.

"I'd be happy to accept Rick as my patient. I'm sure we'll get along famously," Dr. Romero was saying when I came out of my fantasy, "'I'd like to see him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a few weeks, then move to Tuesdays and Thursdays. Let's say around... Four in the evening? You don't work around then, do you, Rick?"

"Right when I get out." I answered.

"That works perfectly. My office is located on 8th Street just past Elm. It's the fourth house on the left with a German Shephered in the front yard." She explained, scribbling it on a slip and handing it to me. I stared at her.

"Your office is in your house?"

"Did you prefer a sterile room where I stripped you down and gave you a prostate exam?"

"Your house it is." I stated, rolling my eyes and rising to my feet with everyone else. Dr. Romero smirked, putting a hand on her hip smugly as if she just won a battle.

Bitch, you ain't seen battle yet. I'm just getting started.