***Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse, mentions of pedophilia, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of violence, and mentions of self harm scars.***

Start the song. It's i love you by Billie Eilish.

Frangipane didn't uncuff Josh this time when he sat down in front of his mom, mostly because he didn't even give her a chance to. He just kept his hands on the table, looking tiredly at his mom as she launched into the lecture he'd already expected to spill out of her mouth.

"You hit a guard?" His mother demanded before he was even fully sitting. "You broke an inmate's nose and hit a guard. What the hell were you thinking? You aren't thirteen anymore, Joshua. This isn't middle school. You can't just hit people whenever you feel like it and get a slap on the wrist. They could decide not to even reassess your case and just keep you in here for your full sentence. They could extend your sentence for this! I am beyond disappointed in you. I can't believe you would do something this stupid! Do you have any idea how irresponsible you're being?"

She paused as if she was waiting for Josh to respond, but he just stared tiredly at his hands. Everything was numb, yet his thoughts were racing so fast that they were roaring in his ears.

"Are you even listening to me?" She snapped. "Are you comprehending the severity of this situation, Joshua? This is serious. This is the difference between you coming home and-"

"Why are you here?" Josh asked tiredly, making his mom fall silent.

"I-What?" She stammered out, looking surprised. "I'm here because you hit-"

"No, I know what I did. I was there. I'm just confused as to why that's grounds for you to come visit me. It sort of seems like this is the drop off point," Josh replied, still not looking at his mom.

"The drop off point?" She asked, still too confused to remember to be angry with him.

He nodded, shrugging slightly. "Yeah. You know, since you've spent the last eight years visiting to let me pretend I could go home someday and be okay. It seems like you get to stop pretending now because, you know, you're right. I get that now. I'm not coming home. I was never going to come home. I'll serve my full sentence, maybe get out when I'm eighty, maybe die in here. Who knows, right? But I'm not going home. That was never really in the cards, and you knew that. I just didn't realize you knew that until today, after I broke that asshole's nose."

All of the colour had drained from his mother's face. "What are you-?"

"You never really thought I'd come home," Josh simplified, finding no anger or hurt inside of himself as he said the words aloud. He looked at his mother finally, and she looked like she was going to be sick. "That's why you don't tell me stuff. You didn't have to tell me you and Dad split up or anything like that because it's easier just to keep me in a bubble that doesn't cross over into your new life."

Tears were filling Josh's mother's eyes as it sunk in for her that he knew. He knew she'd been keeping secrets. He knew what some of them were. He knew that she didn't have any interest in being his mother anymore.

"I was just your free trial kid before you got the three good ones. It's fine. I get it. Your trial's up. We're at the drop off point. You can stop wasting your energy coming in here and pretending you still want to be my mom. It's fine. I'm a big boy now. I'm in a big boy prison with a big boy sentence. I don't need you like Ashley, Jordan, and Abbie do."

"Joshua, you don't-" His mother began weakly, her voice breaking.

"Maybe you should be spending less time coming in here and pretending to care about me when Abbie needs you to be out there actually looking out for her. She's not gonna end up like, and you and I both know that, but she doesn't. She's terrified she's gonna get kicked out of this family too, and I'll never fucking forgive you if you let that happen to her because she's a good kid. She's the best fucking person in this shitty family, and you treat her like she's gonna turn out like me. If you wanna be a good mom like you're clearly trying to convince yourself you are, stop pretending with me, and raise that kid who actually has potential because I have nothing left to give you. This is the best it's gonna get for me. I know that. I accept that. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can stop having these stupid talks where you sit here for fifteen minutes, lie to me, tell me I'm a fuck up, and leave."

"Is this about your fight with Ashley?" His mom asked in a small voice.

Josh shook his head, having to bring both hands up to wipe at the angry tears in his eyes due to the chain connecting them. "No, Mom. This has nothing to do with her, but it is generally the same conversation. Do you also have a secret spouse you want to drop in my lap and ask me to pretend I'm excited to meet too? Does Dad? Why don't you all come in here, and we'll have a fucking picnic. Would you also like to tell me it's completely my fault that no one in our family gives a shit about me besides Abbie? Feel free to drop by sometime in the next two years when you remember you've got another son."

"I'm-" His mom began, tears pouring down her cheeks as she tried to formulate an actual response.

"Don't even worry about it, okay? I'm sure it's my fault. I'm sure it's my fault that you don't want to visit me or be my mom or let me see my siblings, and especially that you don't want me to come home. Why don't we just make this easier for everyone and agree that you don't have to be my mom anymore. You don't have to come in here every time I wanna kill myself or punch a pedophile in the face for saying he's gonna fuck my baby sister. You don't have to pretend I mean anything to you at all, and I'll learn to get over that. Okay? Sound good? And I'll even send all your fucking prayer candles and saints and shit home with Frangipane so you can have that shit back, and we can quit pretending God gives a shit about me. Okay? Great. I'm gonna go back to being on suicide watch now, and you can go home happy because I'm not your fucking responsibility anymore."

His mother was crying fully now, and Josh hated himself so much that it was physically painful. She looked so small right now, and he knew it was his fault. He was the one who had lit the match that started all of this. Not her. This was for the best though. He couldn't survive having a mom who only pretended to love him anymore, and he didn't think she could survive pretending anymore either.

"Please stop," his mom whispered quietly, squeezing her eyes shut before pressing the heels of her hands against them. "Is this.... You don't think we want you in our family anymore?"

"What evidence could I possibly have to suggest that you give a shit about me?" Josh asked her tiredly, slumping slightly in his seat. "Mom, if I died in here, and no one called, it would be months before you even found out. Ashley said that's my fault because I'm the one who put myself in here, and maybe that's true, but you have no idea how much it sucks to only see my family when my life's in danger or I'm in trouble. It's my fault I didn't know she was getting married or even know she had a boyfriend. It's my fault I never see you guys. It's my fault I'm not a member of this family anymore. Maybe she's right about that, but-"

Josh flinched when his mom's hands dropped down onto the tabletop, making him fall into fearful silence. "Your sister said that?" She asked, looking absolutely furious. "Ashley said that to you? When? Is that why you've been avoiding her?"

Josh didn't want to talk about Ashley, so he redirected the conversation. "I don't know. All I know is that my only options are to go home to people who abandoned me, stay here, or...or fucking die. I don't know which option is best, Mom. I really don't. I know it's gonna piss you off, but the first one scares me so bad that I don't even know if I want to think about it. Even if I did get out in June, which I obviously won't now, I wouldn't want to come home. I think I'd kill myself if I came home. I think it's gonna end that way no matter what."

"It isn't," his mother insisted sternly. "Do not let that be an option."

Josh chuckled bitterly, wiping at his eyes again harshly. "It's not that simple, Mom. It's never been that simple."

"Give me your hands," his mom told him quietly.

He held them out to her, hating how much they shook. He could see the hurt flare in her eyes when she saw his bruised knuckles. Still, she lifted them to her lips before holding his hands tightly and looking at him seriously.

"Tell me why you did it," she instructed quietly. "Were you just trying to sabotage your chances of getting out of here, or was there a different reason?"

Josh bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood, trying to gain the strength to tell her. "The first guy was the one who beat me up and...and stuff when I was eighteen," Josh admitted, making his mother's little body stiffen. "I don't know how he found out Abbie was here, but he was saying horrible shit about her. He said he was gonna...do what he tried to do to me, but to her. There were, uh, details. I don't know. I lost it. I grabbed his jumpsuit and yanked it so his face hit the bars and told him never to talk about her again. He's probably gonna fucking shank me over it, but I couldn't listen to him say that shit about Abbie. She's a baby. He can't say that shit about her, especially not when I know he's capable of really doing it when he gets out."

His mom looked like she was going to throw up, but she still pushed through and asked, "And the guard?"

"I had a panic attack. Passed out. I woke up, and he was touching me. I guess he was just trying to keep me up, but I thought he was him, so I just fucking decked him. I apologized, and he isn't mad. He said it was his bad for touching me when I was freaking out, but I still feel like shit for it. He's one of the good ones. He didn't deserve to get hit," Josh insisted.

His mom nodded slightly, her thumb stroking along a thick white scar that marred his left wrist as she thought that over. "It probably isn't safe to bring Abbie in here anymore then, is it? Not if pedophiles are starting to figure out who she is."

She seemed surprised when Josh immediately yanked his arms out of her grip, his hands going into his lap as he had to coax himself back into numbness. He looked up when Frangipane cleared her throat.

"Your hands need to be on the table, buddy. I'm sorry. I have to be able to see your hands right now," she told him softly, her expression solemn as he brought his shaking hands back up to set on the tabletop. "Thank you."

Josh squeezed his eyes shut before looking at his mom and telling her, "You're probably right. I just don't want you to be."

"Maybe if your dad brought her?" His mom suggested, looking confused when he scoffed irritably.

"Oh, so now he's magically able to come see me? It's been over a year since I've seen him. I don't think I even want to see him at this point. He's not even my dad anymore," Josh replied, much to his mother's confusion.

"Josh, he's wanted to come see you. He's wanted to see you for a while, but ever since the divorce-" His mom admitted shakily.

"What? He's too busy starting another family?" He asked bitterly, having to take a deep breath to calm himself. It took his a second to realize that his mom was looking at him with a mixture of fear and guilt. Oh god. It was true. "He has another family?" He asked in a small voice.

His mother looked smaller than before. "He has a girlfriend and a son in Cleveland. His son's about six months old," she replied in a whisper.

That was more than Josh could handle though. A divorce was easy to accept. His father moving to another city with another woman and starting over with a new-better-son was too much. His breathing was becoming unsteady, and he couldn't speak.

"N-n-no. H-h-he he wou-wouldn't d-do that. He...." Josh trailed off, and he believed it. Of course his dad had replaced him, replaced all of them. Josh had ruined this family, so who could hold it against his dad if he decided to start over? "No."

His mother protested when he stood up from the table, clearly thinking he was going to leave their conversation on this note. He didn't though. He didn't know why it happened, but suddenly he was standing, and he was half running until his body hit Frangipane's. He couldn't hug her, not with hands hands cuffed together, but she hugged him immediately when he buried his face against her shoulder and sobbed.

"It's not your fault. It isn't your fault, Josh. I promise," Frangipane told him softly, her fingers soothing through his short hair as she rocked him just slightly. She pressed a kiss to his temple when he sobbed again. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this is happening."

"It isn't happening," he sobbed out. "It already happened, and no one fucking told me. No one cares enough to tell me. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"Right now? Right now, you're gonna feel angry and betrayed, maybe depressed. I don't know what you're gonna feel, but you're gonna know that it's okay to feel that way, okay? Don't shove it down. Feel it. It's okay to feel it. You have to feel it if you're going to process it and heal from it, and I will help you do that however I can," Frangipane told him carefully. "Okay?" When he sobbed instead of replying, she added, "Hey. Show me those puppy dog eyes and tell me we're gonna survive this."

Josh coughed out another sob before steeling himself enough to lift his head and look her in the eye, knowing full well that he looked like a complete disaster as he told her weakly, "I'm gonna survive this."

"Not what I said," she corrected. "We. We are going to survive this. You and me. It's not just you alone handling things anymore, okay? I have your back. Always. I'm going to help you through this, and we are going to survive this."

"We are going to survive this," Josh repeated quietly, earning a proud smile and a kiss to his forehead before she was hugging him again.

"There you go," Frangipane encouraged softly. "This is what best friends are for, Josh. Best friends make sure you don't have to deal with things like this alone. You helped me with my shit, so can bet your ass I'm gonna help you with yours. Understood?"

Josh nodded against her shoulder. "Yes, ma'am," he replied quietly.

She squeezed him one more time before releasing him, wiping the tears off of his face with silky hands. "Good boy. Now go talk to your mom while she's still here. You and me can figure out how to get through this later, but your mom only has three minutes left to talk to you, and I don't want to steal her time when I get to see you every day."

Once again, Josh nodded before going back over to sit across from his mom, who looked absolutely shocked by the interaction she'd just witnessed. Still, she immediately took his hand from across the table and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Abbie showed me the drawing you did of her," his mom told him quietly. "She's been colouring it all night. She said she's gonna send it back to you when it's done since it's the first thing you two have made together since she was a baby."

"She's still a baby," Josh replied, making his mother smile slightly.

She seemed to hesitate before telling him, "I found a carton of cigarettes in her room this morning. I haven't told her yet. I wanted to ask you how you thought I should handle that. Your dad and I didn't handle that very well when we found a pack in your room. How do you wish we would've handled that?"

Josh was surprised by the question for a number of reasons. One, his mom was telling him something bad that had happened without having to be asked. Two, she was telling him about it before she'd even handled it. Three, she was admitting she'd made a mistake with him in the past. Four, she was letting him tell her how that mistake had affected him.

A different question left Josh's mouth though. "How many cigarettes were missing from the pack?"

His mom's eyebrows raised. "Four, I think. There was a lighter in there too."

Josh smiled slightly. "A bright green lighter?"

His mother looked surprised. "Yes, but how did you-?"

"She took those out of my room," Josh replied, making his mother's eyes widen. "She's not smoking. Those are mine. They're like, eight years old. Just tell her I didn't spend nine months quitting those things for her to pick up where I left off. Then give her a hug and tell her you love her, and let her know she can talk to you instead of smoking."

"I took that pack away from you," she insisted, looking confused.

Josh laughed. "Yeah, but you put it in the hall closet under the towels, so I just stole it back. If it makes you feel any better, the four cigarettes missing from the pack are all in that metal Spider-Man lunchbox in my closet. I didn't smoke them. I was just trying to piss you off."

His mom stared at him in shock for a moment before laughing. "Are you kidding me?"

Josh grinned. "I didn't wanna smoke them. I knew what smoker's lungs looked like, Mom, and I knew I wouldn't be able to run as fast if I smoked them. It was in my best interest as an aspiring arsonist to never do anything that would compromise my ability to run fast. I wasn't a complete idiot."

His mom laughed harder then, and for the first time, she was looking at him like he was actually her kid. He tried not to get too attached to the feeling that swelled inside of him as he processed that.

"Thank God," his mom laughed out. "I'll let your sister know that you didn't smoke at her age either."

"Tell her you love her too though. That's what she wants to hear the most," Josh insisted. "She'll act annoyed, but she really does want to hear you say it out loud and mean it."

"Is that what you wanted?" His mom asked quietly, suddenly not meeting his eyes.

He shrugged. "Isn't that what everyone wants?"

His mom met his eyes then, looking tired. "Yeah. You're probably right."

It seemed like the rest of his mom's visit flew by, and then Frangipane was walking him back to his watch cell. They didn't speak as he climbed onto his bed and let her take his cuffs off for him. He closed his eyes when her hand held the back of his head as she leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.

When her lips left his forehead, she looked him in the eye very seriously and told him, "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied quietly.

"I'm going to protect you," she promised him. "I'm going to protect your family too."

Josh nodded slightly. "Thank you," he told her in a whisper.

He was so tired. His body was completely drained of energy after the day he'd had. Frangipane nodded, helping him to lie down. She rubbed his arm softly, sitting down in the folding chair by his bed. He let out a quiet yawn, making her smile.

"Sleepy little puppy," she cooed, making him laugh.

He grunted a response, picking her hand up off of his arm and setting it in his hair before closing his eyes. He heard her chuckle.

"Hair's okay to touch now?" She checked in a kind tone.

He smiled slightly. "Mhm. I trust you."

Frangipane's fingernails were long as they slid gently across his scalp, combing through the short curls growing there. It made him shiver slightly as he scooted closer to her. His muscles were all relaxing, those blue eyes having been expelled from his mind for the time being.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Of course," Frangipane replied, leaving the chair to climb onto his bed with him. Her arms wrapped him up safely before her fingers returned to his hair. "You can tell me anything."

"I still don't trust my mom," Josh admitted tiredly. "I don't trust my dad or my sister either. I only trust you, Hoppus, Abbie, and Skye. Hoppus said sometimes you get to pick your family when you grow up. I would pick you guys."

Frangipane hugged him a little bit tighter. "We would pick you too, puppy. Every single time."

He smiled nudging his nose against hers slightly. "Ashley?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah?" She replied.

A sharp intake of breath sounded from Frangipane's nose when his lips brushed against hers just barely, and then his blushing face was buried against her throat. "Goodnight," he told her in a small voice.

Her fingers soothed through his hair again after a moment, letting him know that she wasn't mad. "Goodnight, puppy," she replied in an equally small voice. He smiled when he heard her giggle quietly. "Thanks for picking me to be in your family."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if it's possible to find a better husband than you," he teased, making her giggle again.

"Awww. I love my wife," Ashley cooed, making him laugh.

"I love you too," he chuckled out, beaming when she kissed his forehead.

"Get some sleep, okay, wifey? You've had a long day. You need some rest. I promise I'll be here when you wake up," Frangipane told him.

Josh wrapped an arm around her waist as he allowed himself to relax. "I know you will," he replied, earning another kiss to his forehead.

"I'm so proud of you, Josh," Frangipane told him sincerely. When the words made him shiver, she repeated them over and over again like a mantra until he drifted off to sleep, still hearing those words in his ears as he finally dreamt about things that didn't scare him.