In the Fishbowl - 28. Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Dennis groaned inwardly and bit back his objection when Travis blindly pushed past him carrying two tall boxes he likely couldn’t see over before depositing them unceremoniously inside of the door so he could take a better look around.

Not sure what was in the boxes and hoping that nothing was broken, Dennis put down his own load and quickly turned one of them upright where Travis had dropped it, only to look around and find that the shirtless brunet had disappeared on him. “Travis?” he called impatiently as he moved through the small one-bedroom that smelled like new carpet and wet paint. His search took him to the small room, where he rolled his eyes upon finding Travis stretched out in the middle of the floor, hands cradling the back of his head. “What are you doing?”

“Bed should go here,” Travis said, and then grinned at him. “Let’s bring that in next.”

Dennis rolled his eyes. “Come on, I want to get this done before it gets dark.”

Ignoring him, Travis patted the ground next to him. “Second thought, who needs a bed?”

Sometimes it was better to walk away, which is exactly what Dennis did before Travis prevented him from hauling the rest of his stuff out of Mr. Chesley’s borrowed van.

The Chesleys had left about thirty minutes ago after packing Dennis’s new refrigerator with food and inviting themselves to dinner for the next weekend. Dennis had been a little sad to see them go, but at the same time was enjoying the process of putting together the small apartment.

The entire thing was probably smaller than the basement he’d been staying in, and it was too close to the bus station for it to be as quiet as he would have liked, but it was his, and that’s what mattered. A small table from the Chesleys, the sofa Owen had dropped off earlier and the chairs they’d made together made things a lot less empty, and Dennis figured he’d sort out the rest as he went. He was looking forward to it.

Travis had caught up to him by the time he reached the van, and was quick to take the lamp Dennis had lifted before reaching for another box. “You should relax,” he commented. “You have plenty of time.”

“I still have to get this back to Mr. Chesley and pick up Valentine,” Dennis pointed out. “Preferably before they go to bed.”

Travis rolled his eyes, probably because it was still bright outside. “So have you figured out what you’re doing tonight?” he asked when they were on their way back up the stairs.

Dennis sighed. Turned out, being partially-unemployed wasn’t necessarily a good thing for Travis Beltnick. He’d been working nights and a few afternoons for Chris, but that left him way too much free time during the day, and most of that time, Dennis was busy working. Travis had been popping in on him in random places more and more frequently. Not that he minded. Actually, he kind of enjoyed the company to break up his day. But it turned out that Travis tended to go a mile a minute when he had nothing to do. It was like being forced to slow down sped him up. He became focused on one thing at a time and tended to put all his energy into it. Currently, the goal was to get Dennis to the club.

“Won’t you be working?” Dennis tried. He really didn’t want to go. The last few weeks had been peaceful. He hadn’t heard from anyone in his family. Travis no longer brought them up because without the dealership he had no reason to. Dennis wasn’t interested in trading his family problems for his social ones. He wasn’t in the mood for a crowd. He wanted to stay home... because he finally had a home that was all his. Little things like that often seemed to escape Travis completely.

Travis smiled over his shoulder. “I’ll make time. Besides, Owen will be there, and he said you should come, too. You’re outvoted.”

“When did he say that?”

“When he was helping me carry the two-ton couch up here,” Travis replied as they reached the apartment again. He put down what he was carrying and headed for the refrigerator to grab two water bottles Mrs. Chesley had left in there. Dennis hardly had time to drop what he was carrying before Travis tossed him one. “So why not come, just for a little while? I mean, you haven’t really seen Owen in a while anyway, right?”

Dennis shrugged as he watched Travis sip the water, but obviously he didn’t appear as nonchalant as he meant to because Travis cocked his head and asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” Dennis said quickly and decided it would be best to keep moving as he headed back out the door. Only, before he could go through it, Travis’s hand was on it and gently pushing it closed. “Travis, I want to get this done.”

“You’re not avoiding Owen, are you?”

“He was just here, wasn’t he?” Dennis replied, not bothering to mention the only reason for that was because Travis had called him and told him to come help--and then Dennis had told him that was rude.

Travis regarded him carefully, a frown beginning to crease his brow. “Is it because of that whole kiss thing? You don’t still think I hurt his feelings, do you? He seemed okay.”

Dennis sighed, shaking his head. He was beginning to realize that just because Travis didn’t act like other people’s feelings could get to him, didn’t mean it didn’t happen. He just tended to refrain from showing it. Only lately, that hadn’t been necessarily true where Dennis was concerned. More and more, Travis was letting his guard down. Dennis wasn’t sure if that was happening because he was more comfortable with Travis, or if Travis was more comfortable with him. “No. Don’t worry about it, okay. I’ll show up tonight--for a while.”

Travis laughed, catching Dennis’s hand when he reached for the door again. “Just like that?”

“Travis.”

“Seriously,” Travis said. “What’s going on with you and Owen?”

Dennis used the fact that Travis was holding his hand as an advantage and pulled him away from the door before opening it. “Nothing’s going on,” Dennis insisted. “Except he knows we’re together and he’s pretending not to.”

Travis’s mouth fell open, that announcement taking him off guard. But obviously, Dennis didn’t feel like hearing any response he might have to it because he was already out the door again.

The whole way down the stairs and back up again Travis had silently trailed behind him, regarding Dennis incredulously when the youngest Gordon had enough nerve to meet his eyes. But he was far from speechless, and the moment they reached the apartment with more of Dennis’s things, Travis took it upon himself to close the door and then lean against it when Dennis looked like he intended to go around him.

“You told him?” Travis asked quietly.

Dennis sighed. “Not exactly. Doesn’t matter anyway, since I’m pretending he doesn’t know, too.”

The corners of Travis’s mouth turned up and his lashes fell over his dark eyes as he regarded Dennis in that probing way of his that had proven dangerous once or twice in the past.

“It is a big deal, if it’s because you didn’t want him to think I’m a complete jackass.”

Not comfortable with the subtle gratitude in Travis’s voice, Dennis turned towards the sofa, suddenly deciding it needed to be a little closer to the television. As soon as he started to push at one end, Travis was at the other to help--still watching Dennis with a little too much interest.

“It’s not a big deal,” Dennis snapped, unable to help himself. It would be great if Travis would just stop looking at him like that.

Travis laughed, moved around the couch and snuck his arm around Dennis’s waist while his mouth worked its way up Dennis’s neck before the less outgoing of the two could think to stop it.

I’m supposed to be moving,” Dennis protested, but not with much heart, when Travis reached for his belt.

Kissing his jaw, Travis turned Dennis to better reach his mouth. “Then stop turning me on,” he murmured.

“Everything turns you on,” Dennis pointed out, amused. But as he felt Travis, hard against his hip, he gave up on complaining and moved an arm around the persistent brunet, deciding it was time to make use of the old, heavy sofa that wasn’t yet close enough to the television.

..................

The beginning of summer seemed to put people in a good mood. Or maybe it just seemed like that because there were more than usual out late, taking advantage of the nice weather and celebrating the fact that they were no longer holed up inside their warm homes.

Dennis felt he should be surprised that tonight he didn’t much mind the crowds. Maybe it was because he was too tired to put any energy into feeling overwhelmed by them. Eventually Travis had told him that he should just unpack while he did all the unloading on his own. His pride had kept Dennis from liking the idea, but he’d been reasonable when Travis insisted that if he had to watch Dennis walk up and down the stairs for the rest of the afternoon, he’d be too focused on what to do with Dennis’s ass to get any actual work done.

And Dennis had been entertained. He supposed he could admit it. Just not to Travis, since who knew what the consequences of doing that might be. But he was. A few weeks ago he’d realized that he might have more feelings than he cared to when it came to Travis Beltnick, and part of that was terrifying, especially when it came to some of the things that came out of Travis’s mouth.

Travis didn’t understand the concept of being subtle... about anything, and sometimes being with him felt like walking on eggshells. Dennis wanted privacy, and Travis just wasn’t a private person. It was almost as if Dennis had been in a constant state of panic, waiting for Travis to get him into the kind of trouble he didn’t need. But now... Dennis wasn’t so worried about it. Travis was still mouthy as hell, to a point that Dennis completely understood why anyone might be annoyed with it. In fact, half the time the one who was annoyed the most was him.

But more and more lately, it seemed like a small price to pay because that was simply who Travis was, and Dennis liked his company. And while Travis was loud, he’d also been censored when it came to Dennis. He wasn’t trying out his personal life any more than Dennis was. Dennis supposed that the best way to think of it, was that he’d learned to trust Travis Beltnick. That very admission might have made him laugh out loud, if he weren’t so serious about it. Dennis didn’t trust many people. It just wasn’t something he took lightly.

He decided that reason alone... and maybe the fact that Travis had been a good sport about being ordered around all day just to help Dennis move, seemed like a good enough reason to head down to the club like Travis had asked him to.

Dennis figured he’d stop by, find Travis, and then excuse himself as soon as Travis appeared to be busy. Which, would likely be right away the way Travis complained about Chris Dovan riding his ass.

But that’s not exactly how things had turned out. Dennis had arrived a little late, found a table and ordered a drink while he searched his surroundings for the only person he really cared about seeing. He found him quickly enough, and Travis was, as suspected, busy. They’d put him behind the bar; a brave choice given that Dennis knew for a fact that Travis knew less about alcohol than he did about knitting. And he was crowded. But while Dennis was sure that his job was stressing him out, he knew better than to think that the people around him were doing the same thing. They seemed to be the reason for the usual smile on his face.

Dennis had planned to finish his drink, give Travis a minute to catch up with the orders he had coming in. Then he’d say hi. Then he’d leave.

Sounded like a great plan. Then Lacy Chapman sat down with him. Then he danced with her. She called him a poor sport over it when he insisted on quitting after one song, but Dennis was okay with that. When she followed him back to the table and ordered herself a three-course meal, Dennis started to wonder if Owen was around, and thought it might be time to start looking the blond in the eye again. At least Owen didn’t talk non-stop about how much he wanted his brother.

“I’ve never known a grown man who played so many games,” Lacy complained as she picked at her food. “And he does like me,” she said, narrowing her eyes as if Dennis would disagree with her. “He’s just being stupid about it.”

“Right,” Dennis said, when she regarded him expectantly. “Um... I wasn’t planning to stay that long...”

“But he’ll figure it out in about twelve days,” she continued.

Dennis couldn’t help himself. “Twelve days?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lacy said as she sipped her soda through her straw. “Tony’s getting back from vacation. I’m going to kiss him.”

“Oh... what?”

“They’re Dovans, Dennis,” Lacy said, as if she were actually making sense. Dennis refrained from correcting her. “Sometimes you need to just show them what they want. They like it that way. I kiss Tony, pretend I thought he was Chris, and Chris will come around. It worked for Jake.”

“Huh?”

“He kissed Chris... only, he really did think he was kissing Tony.” She shrugged. Technicalities. “Anyway, Tony got jealous and him and Jake got together. It worked for Aiden with Owen, too.”

“Aiden kissed Chris?” Dennis was getting way too much information.

“No, he kissed Owen. But Owen didn’t see it coming... never mind. The point is, it’ll work.”

Dennis shook his head. “Why don’t you just kiss Chris?”

“Tried that. Scares the hell out of him. It’s already taken three dates just to get him to hold my hand. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”

“This is really none of my business,” Dennis decided.

“It’s not anyone’s business,” Lacy pointed out, not bothering to pick up on his hint that he’d rather not hear anymore. “But you’re the least likely person in the world to mention any of this to Chris, so you get to hear it.”

Dennis raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you’re leaving it completely up to me to talk you out of it?”

Lacy looked curious. “You going to try, Gordon?”

“Honestly... I’m afraid of what you’d come up with next if I did.”

Lacy regarded him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. When she sobered she shook her head more at herself than at him. “I’m sorry... and I know I sound crazy. But I’m just as entitled as anyone else around here.”

“To act crazy?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “Why not?”

Dennis would have told her that the fact he’d had enough of crazy people seemed like a good reason, but when it came down to it he supposed Lacy Chapman wasn’t the worst of them. Actually, she didn’t make bad company when she wasn’t talking about guys. But to be fair, it wasn’t as if she’d have much else to talk to Dennis about. And... the fact that she talked to him as if they hadn’t known each other at all in high school counted for a lot. It was hard to ditch an old reputation without ditching the whole town, but from time to time, people like Lacy made it just a little bit easier to think it was possible.

But then there were other people, the kind who could make one simple appearance and throw the past back at him so brutally that he could feel the force of it tighten over his chest until he couldn’t breathe. People like Lyle, showed up at clubs he’d never usually be caught dead in, already wasted and knocking people over on his way to the bar. Where Travis was.

“Whoa... you just went green on me,” Lacy remarked, regarding Dennis with a funny look on her face. She looked over her shoulder to follow his gaze, wondering what had him paling before her eyes, but when she couldn’t tell she slid into the chair next to his for a better vantage point. “I don’t get it...” she started, but abruptly fell silent just as Lyle clumsily took a seat at the bar, to Travis’s back. “Isn’t that...?”

Dennis ground his teeth, took a deep breath and regarded the situation with caution. Though he hoped it, something in his gut told him that this wasn’t a coincidence, and he felt his stomach clench at the exact moment that he knew Travis had spotted the unwelcome guest.

To Travis’s credit, his reaction was far less crippling than Dennis’s. In fact, he smoothly excused himself from a group that had his attention and walked right up to Lyle Gordon... then to Dennis’s chagrin, served him a drink.

“What’s he doing here?” Lacy asked.

“I don’t know,” Dennis replied, but was already feeling relief when Travis walked away from his brother. It was short-lived, however, when Lyle obviously didn’t like what he’d been served and slid the glass halfway across the table as he stood. Dennis could only imagine what had come out of his brother’s mouth, but whatever it was, it had Travis looking back over his shoulder crossly. Resigned, Dennis let out a breath and started to rise from his seat. “I’d better get over there.”

But no sooner had he decided to act that there was a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. Startled, Dennis looked up at Chris Dovan, who seemed as alert as Dennis felt with his eyes trained on the situation across the room. “You should probably let me take care of that,” Chris said, and then looked at Dennis pointedly.

Dennis opened his mouth, but rethought his words as he frowned in Lyle’s direction again. He wondered how fast Chris would throw him out if he started arguing. For once, Dennis didn’t want to risk it. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped outside with his brother in such close proximity to Travis.

“I’ve got it,” Chris insisted, as if he thought Dennis might need convincing. And in all fairness, Dennis did. He only reluctantly gave Chris a nod, but his eyes promised to be across the room in record time if Chris let him down.

Chris headed across the room, but not before he looked at Lacy and smiled as if he didn’t have a drunk Gordon present, threatening his establishment. “Whatever you’re up to,” he told her, “start rethinking it fast.” He winked at the indignant look she flashed him. “I know everything, remember?”

....................

Travis could have been having a better night, but overall, he couldn’t really complain. A job was a job. He just preferred it when Chris wanted him out promoting the club. The bar wasn’t really his thing. But at least Dennis had shown up, even if Travis could never find a minute to go say hi to him.

Dennis had stayed longer than Travis thought he would have, too. He’d asked Lacy to go bother him quite a while ago, and it seemed she found Dennis Gordon as easy to be around as he did. That worked for Travis. At least Dennis didn’t seem bored, anyway, and that increased the chances that he’d come back again.

Except, those chances flew directly out the front doors the moment Lyle Gordon walked through them, Travis thought. As soon as Travis noticed Lyle at the bar, he didn’t have to look in Dennis’s direction to know that he knew his brother was there; he didn’t dare look in Dennis’s direction. Travis was ignoring the fact that Lyle was focusing too much attention on him, and he didn’t want to give him even the slightest hint that his younger brother was present, too. At least at the bar Travis had plenty of people to occupy himself with. He could make a reasonable display of ignoring the oldest Gordon brother.

Unfortunately, Lyle seemed to like being ignored just about as much as Travis did. And he got loud.

“Hey! Do I have to sit here all night before I get any service?” he demanded first, disrupting the people around him.

Travis had decided to go over to him them, urging himself to be a lot calmer than he felt. “What do you want?” he asked, noting that even bleary-eyed, Lyle was doing a good job of staring him down.

“Surprise me.”

Travis wasted no time in pouring Lyle a drink, or promptly walking away after it had been served to him. With any luck, the guy would get bored and just go away.

Tonight, Travis wasn’t that lucky.

“What the fuck is this?” Lyle demanded, his voice silencing a few other conversations around him.

Travis looked over his shoulder, perturbed, and then reluctantly made his way back over, not liking that the guy had left his seat. “Water. Surprise. I’m cutting you off.”

Lyle looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I just got here, shithead. Give me a fucking drink.” He slid his glass in Travis’s direction.

Travis slid it back. “You’re already wasted,” he said calmly. “Can’t serve you unless you turn over your keys.”

Lyle’s keys hit the counter, and he grinned as if he had just won something.

Travis shook his head. “And you’re being belligerent. You don’t need any more.”

That wiped the smile off of Lyle’s face, and pleased Travis. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t last for long as Lyle’s eyes narrowed on him. “Look, pussy, you can either pour me a drink, or I can make you pour me a drink.”

Travis’s hands moved to the counter, his weight leaning into it. He took another deep breath, this time because he needed to stop envisioning the way he wanted to take Lyle by the back of the head and break his face over the beverage he didn’t seem to be very happy with.

And it all seemed very unfair that Lyle didn’t have to behave but Travis did, because he really, really didn’t want to. And what was it Dennis had said about fighting, anyway? Anyone. Right now, Travis didn’t want to think of Lyle as an anyone. His mind was already working on ways to argue that point later. But even if Travis was confident that he could make Dennis see reason if trouble were to arise by his own doing--which, he really wasn’t--he definitely wasn’t sure about explaining it to the club. He needed this job, and it pissed him off all the more that Lyle Gordon was about to get him fired from it.

“How about instead,” Travis said, “you walk out of here... or I’ll walk you out of here.”

“Travis.” Chris Dovan’s voice was sharp, but not loud. Travis knew he was behind the bar, but he didn’t trust the situation enough to take his eyes from Lyle until Chris had a hand on his arm and was guiding him away from the counter.

Lyle’s attention turned to Travis’s boss. “You gonna pour me a drink?”

Chris was already reaching for a glass, and whether it was his place or not, that irritated the hell out of Travis. “He doesn’t need any more.”

Chris glanced back at Travis, obviously annoyed. “They need your help upstairs.”

Travis crossed his arms. “I’d rather stay here.”

“Upstairs,” Chris repeated, the look he gave Travis not leaving much room for an argument that would get him anywhere.

Travis regarded Lyle’s smug look with one of disgust, but ultimately backed down and headed across the club, once again refusing to see if Dennis was still around. Something told him Lyle was still watching, and that left him uneasy more than anything else.

Travis didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. Reason told him that Chris would never let things get out of control in his own house, but his temper urged him to put an end to this once and for all. This was the first time he’d come face to face with Lyle since walking out of the Gordon’s house with Dennis, and to be honest, Travis didn’t want a repeat performance. Dennis wanted to be done with his family, and after the last night he spent with them, Travis was ready to help him make that happen, even if it had to happen by force. Which, he mused, might be more fun.

Except Dennis wouldn’t think so. Travis hated setbacks. He also hated the fact that he’d behaved for the last month and seeing Lyle Gordon had him itching for a fight. Maybe Dennis is right, he mused, that is annoying about me. Because Travis wished that he had more control than that. Too bad he just plain didn’t. But he was willing to try--hence, walking away and all that.

Walking upstairs, where he couldn’t see and would have to trust that Dennis would be alright. He didn’t like that idea, either, and suddenly hoped that Dennis was already leaving the club. He was the reasonable sort; that’s probably exactly what he was doing. Probably.

But just in case, when Travis was halfway up the stairs he paused and turned on his cell phone long enough to dial Dennis’s number. Voicemail picked up; Travis hung up. He closed his eyes briefly. This wasn’t working for him. None of it was. But he knew he had to make a decision one way or another, and headed up the stairs before he could change his mind.

However, another good reason not to do what everyone else would consider right by going upstairs like Chris had asked, was the fact that Kyle was up there. Travis had pretended not to notice the way Chris tended to separate him and Kyle when their shifts overlapped. Kyle seemed to pretend not to notice, either. Tonight there was a private party, and when Chris had told him he’d be upstairs with it, Kyle hadn’t complained once, even though Travis knew his used-to-be friend wasn’t fond of running the smaller parties. Usually Chris did that, but not when Travis was around, so Travis couldn’t help wondering if babysitting him was a full time occupation.

Travis found himself in a room full of twenty-somethings celebrating a birthday. Presents were being opened, so the focus was mostly on that and it was easy to spot Kyle behind the bar, and easy for Kyle to spot him. Kyle looked more surprised than irritated to see Travis, but even if he had been put off, Travis wasn’t really in the mood for it.

“He wants me up here,” Travis said shortly.

“Owen hasn’t shown up yet?”

Travis shrugged. “Don’t know. What do you want me to do?”

Deciding not to respond to Travis’s testy tone, Kyle tossed him a clean, damp rag without another word and Travis found himself looking around for anything that might need wiping down. He settled for the closest barstool, spent about five seconds on the task, and then lost patience all over again.

He wasn’t good at doing nothing. It seemed to him it should be someone else’s turn to deal with that little fact, because he was over it. Dropping the rag, he headed back towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Kyle called after him, finally sounding appropriately frustrated.

“I have to do something,” Travis said over his shoulder, and didn’t bother stopping. He didn’t stop for another seven steps down, when another body blocked his path so abruptly that he veered back, defensive.

Dennis looked equally startled, and then just as quickly, annoyed. “Sorry. I saw you come up here. I’m going home.”

Well, that took the wind out of Travis’s sails more than anything could. Quite frankly, he was relieved for it, but he was feeling no less frustrated. “Is your brother still down there?”

Dennis shook his head. “Chris got him to go.”

Travis nodded, still regretting the fact that he wasn’t the one who had done that. But instead of posturing over it, he glanced at Dennis. “Are you alright?”

Dennis frowned, and instead of answering such a question, said, “I don’t get why he was even here. It doesn’t make any sense. He definitely wouldn’t be here looking for me.”

Travis raised an eyebrow at that. “And who would he be looking for?”

Dennis frowned. “Have you done anything to provoke him lately?”

“You know, I’m not going to call you out on that only because it’s probably a fair question.”

“Did you?” Dennis asked, impatient.

Travis shook his head. “No.” he moved a stair-step closer to Dennis. “Hey, you know it’s all probably coincidence, right? He’s wasted.”

Dennis suddenly avoided Travis’s eyes. “You know what? I should get out of here, there are a lot of people down there that are pissed off...”

“Because of Lyle,” Travis said. “It’s not your fault he was here.”

Dennis looked up, this time more sternly. “Just... stay away from Lyle, Travis. Stay away from him.”

..........................

Travis wasn’t having the best day ever. Nothing new about that, he supposed. But this one felt particularly trying. Actually, the last few days had been that way, ever since Lyle had walked into the club and threw Dennis completely off guard.

Travis wished that Dennis wouldn’t let his brother get to him the way he did. And he wished that Dennis didn’t feel like he had to be concerned about it, especially where Travis was concerned. Travis had never liked people worrying about him, but Dennis in particular. When Dennis worried, he tended to cut tail and run, and Travis didn’t have the energy to keep chasing after him.

And Dennis was worried, Travis sensed that well enough. He didn’t like his brother coming around, especially around Travis. Travis supposed he could relate to that. He didn’t like Lyle anywhere near Dennis, either. Seemed to Travis the best way to deal with Lyle Gordon was to disappear him, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t count as staying out of trouble. So he was stuck with Dennis, and his constant worrying, and it was beginning to feel like he was helpless to do anything about it.

Not that he didn’t understand where Dennis was coming from. The past he shared with his brother wasn’t exactly easy to get around. But Travis wasn’t Ben, damn it, and he was tired of Dennis looking at him like he was. In fact, it was bad enough that for the last two days Travis was actually worried that Dennis was fully prepared to cut ties with him, all because he couldn’t stomach to think what Lyle was capable of. Last night Dennis had finally allowed Travis to come over, and it was the first night they’d spent together in his apartment since he’d moved in. By the time morning rolled around Travis was hopeful that Dennis was over this annoying withdrawal phase he was in... and then there had been the phone call.

Travis had been in the kitchen, making French toast, no less. He wasn’t exactly known for cooking, so the fact that he was doing it for Dennis should have spoken for itself. He’d planned to have it ready by the time Dennis was out of the shower. Dennis had walked into the kitchen in nothing but a towel--good thing. He had been holding Travis’s ringing cell phone--not so good. The look on Dennis’s face should have spoken for itself, but when he handed over the phone and Travis saw the number he inwardly cringed, ignored the call, and hastily flipped over a slightly charred piece of toast.

“Do you want syrup?” Travis asked. Dennis didn’t respond, forcing Travis to look up at the troubled lines creasing his forehead. “Dennis?”

Dennis frowned at him. “How long has he been calling you?”

Travis sighed, took his time plating the food. “Since I quit at the dealership--but I’m not even answering his calls. He’s not leaving messages. Please, don’t get upset about it. Sooner or later he’ll stop. No big deal.”

Dennis didn’t look convinced. “What does he want?”

Exasperated, Travis turned off the stove and brought their plates to the table. He pushed Dennis towards a chair, not really caring if he was wearing more than a towel. Dennis didn’t seem to care, either, because he tightened it around his waist and sat down.

“Thanks for cooking,” he mumbled, and then flipped over a burnt piece of French toast. “I think.”

“I don’t know what he wants,” Travis said, taking his own seat. “And I really don’t care. Neither should you.”

“If you say so,” Dennis replied.

“I say so,” Travis insisted. And he meant it. He didn’t care what John Gordon wanted. The way he saw it, Dennis had been happier ever since Travis stopped working there. It didn’t matter to him that sometimes--and only sometimes--he missed the job. Hell, he even missed getting the old man riled up on a daily basis. But he had no doubt that he’d miss Dennis more. And so he’d made a choice. He was troubled that Dennis wasn’t clearly seeing that at the moment. “What are you doing today?”

“Work.”

I don’t work until tonight,” Travis said grudgingly. God he missed having something to do. He’d work twenty hours straight if it kept him occupied. But he kept this to himself. “What about tomorrow? You got a few hours free tomorrow?”

Dennis shrugged. “Probably... why?” He seemed suspicious, making Travis sigh. Another downside to Lyle making an appearance--Dennis didn’t want to go out anywhere. Period.

“It’s my visiting day with Sara,” Travis said, suddenly not feeling so confident as he stole a glance at Dennis and saw that he’d successfully gotten his attention. “I was thinking... I was thinking I want to introduce you to her. If that’s okay with you. Not as my boyfriend or anything,” he quickly added. “Just... I’ve never really wanted anyone to meet her before.”

Dennis chewed slowly before he responded, and then seemed to choose his words carefully. “I want to go with you... I’ll go with you.”

Travis raised a curious eyebrow at Dennis’s tone. “But?”

Dennis frowned. “But... I don’t know if I can meet her. Not yet.”

“Why not? She doesn’t even talk.”

“What you’ve told me about her,” Dennis said cautiously. “I kind of hate her... is that okay with you?”

Travis blinked a few times, and then felt the beginnings of a smile on his face. “I guess it is. But you’ll come?”

“I’ll come.” And Dennis would call off work to do it, but he kept that to himself.

For a moment Travis felt happy again. Not so worried about the way Dennis was always worrying. And then the chair he was sitting in chose that moment to... collapse, he supposed, spilling him roughly over the kitchen floor amongst splintered wood and the contents on his plate, which he’d foolishly reached for during his ungraceful fall.

To Dennis’s credit, he didn’t react as he took another bite of French toast and glanced down at Travis’s incredulous expression. All he said was, “I think Owen put that one together.”

That had been a few hours ago, and now Travis’s fingers hurt because he’d landed on them funny; he’d been lonely when Dennis left for work and trusted him to lock up, and he was on a bus headed for home to see if Ryan was home when he’d received one of the oddest phone calls he’d ever answered in his life.

He’d been hoping it was a job interview and answered when he didn’t recognize the number. Instead, it was a very overwhelmed-sounding woman begging him to come to her house to straighten out her son.

Travis’s first instinct was to tell her that she had the wrong number and hang up, but the more she talked, the more he realized that a certain Ben Summers had given her his phone number. And how the hell did Ben even know his number? And why--Why?--would he tell some strange woman that Travis had the ability to relate to her child?

Michael. Travis hardly remembered him from the center, but when his name came up he knew exactly what boy needed straightening out. But that was none of Travis’s business. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with it. Instead, he felt like hunting down Ben Summers to give him a piece of mind. Still, though, when he got off the bus it was in an unfamiliar neighborhood and he slowly made his way to the apartment building the woman had described. Emily, had been her name.

When she first opened the door Travis was as surprised by her as she seemed to be by him. Obviously, he wasn’t what she’d expected. But he wasn’t apologizing for it because he wasn’t the fucking tooth fairy. She, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly his image of what a mother looked like. Blue streaks in her blonde hair topped off a nose ring and a barbell through her tongue, which she toyed with as she scrutinized him from behind her front door. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than he was, and for that he gave her a break because he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be responsible for someone Michael’s age at this point in his life.

“He’s flipping out on me,” she’d told him. “I don’t know what his problem is, and I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

Her words had been harsh, but the fact that she’d been close to tears should have counted for something, Travis had decided. And now he sat on the twin-sized bed in a room that didn’t have enough in it to hint at what the little boy who lived there was interested in.

Michael was hiding under another hoodie. At first he didn’t seem very impressed with his mom’s way of dealing with him, but he seemed to remember Travis, and so far Travis had managed to get further than his mother had. Apparently, she was going on a date with a new guy that evening, and Michael wasn’t at all happy about it.

“I don’t see why you don’t just tell her how you feel,” Travis said. “Maybe if you did, she wouldn’t even go.”

Michael rolled his eyes in a way that suggested he didn’t think grown-ups knew anything. “She’ll go,” he said with more of an edge to his voice than he had the last time Travis had met him. “She always goes.”

Travis sighed. He didn’t need to ask if this was the kid’s first experience with his mom dating since the last disastrous time, and to be honest... he was with the kid on this one. If Sara had ever gotten rid of Bill he could imagine how fiercely he and Allan would have guarded her from ever developing a social life again. But then... Michael’s mom had had the sense to get rid of the boyfriend who’d hurt her son. Maybe that meant that she wasn’t all bad. Still, on a very personal level Travis felt wrong about defending an adult in this situation, yet he found himself awkwardly trying.

“Maybe... maybe this guy won’t be so bad.”

Michael sank further beneath the hood on his oversized shirt.

Discouraged, Travis crossed his arm and let his shoulders sag as he stared pointedly at the boy’s floor. At the moment he hated the fact that Ben Summers had given his name to these people. He wasn’t in the position to really help anyone. But when he looked at Michael, he found himself wanting to. Unfortunately, he didn’t really know how. It wasn’t as if he’d grown up with someone around to watch his back, or help him out of a funk. He’d had to learn to live with his problems, and he’d found that hiding behind a smile was a good way to do it. For one thing, people just seemed to like you better when you were smiling. Second, Travis was of the mind that if he smiled enough, regardless of the circumstances, he’d eventually start feeling it. Allan had taught him that.

And he’d had Allan. Maybe it was only for a little while, but Travis liked to think it had made a difference in him. Thinking of the better times he’d spent with his brother brought a smile to Travis’s face, and he found himself standing up when he spotted the coppery shine of a penny just inside of Michael’s door. Travis picked it up, fingered it for a moment before turning back to the boy. “Hey, you have any more of these?”

Michael stood up, his little face looking bored as he turned his pockets inside out and came up with four more pennies, a nickel, and three pebbles that had probably come from a playground somewhere. Travis took the money and closed Michael’s door, and the boy craned his neck to watch while Travis wedged the coins between the frame.

“What’re you doing?” Michael asked.

Travis ignored his agitated tone. “Sometimes,” Travis said, “I was afraid to go to sleep.” he looked at Michael pointedly. “Like, if I didn’t know someone in my house.” Michael looked at the pennies with interest, and Travis smiled. “So, my brother taught me to do this. Shove as many in as you can, and if someone opens your door...” Travis opened the door, and the coins only thudded lightly on the carpet. Michael didn’t look impressed. Travis shrugged. “I’m a light sleeper.”

“What were you afraid of?” Michael asked curiously as Travis knelt to pick up the change and hand it back to him.

Travis sighed. He was good at avoiding conversations like this, but somehow, he felt completely comfortable with a child. “There was a man who lived with us, and sometimes when he got angry, he’d hurt us.”

“What happened to him?”

“He... left,” Travis said gently.

“Andrew left.”

“Andrew,” Travis repeated, and then raised an eyebrow at the boy. “You got a last name?”

“What for?” Michael asked.

Travis shook his head at himself. “Never mind. Look...”

Michael suddenly frowned at him. “My mom said he’s not coming back.”

“You don’t believe her,” Travis realized.

“She always lies,” Michael complained, more anger than a kid his age should have creeping in his voice. “That’s why she’s going to have another boyfriend, ‘cause she’s a liar.”

Travis frowned. “Not everyone’s going to be like Andrew.” But he felt hollow saying it, knowing that for a very long time, any man who was older than he was, or bigger, made him nervous. Michael didn’t seem very pleased with his response, either. “Look, Michael, maybe... you need to stop being afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” the boy said defensively. Travis didn’t bother arguing, despite the fact that they both knew that wasn’t true. His eyes moved towards a picture of Michael and his mother tacked to the wall. He moved to it, and found himself removing the tack at the bottom of the photograph.

“Come here,” Travis said as he headed back towards the bed.

“What’s that for?” Michael asked doubtfully. He hadn’t been impressed with Travis’s last trick, but Travis was convinced that there had to be something of Allan’s that he could use. Hell, stupid shit exactly like this had sometimes been the only things that got him through as a kid.

“Can you get more of these things?” Travis asked, holding up the tack.

Michael nodded.

“Good--I don’t need them,” Travis said when Michael headed for his door.

Michael watched as Travis stuck the tack into the wall just next to Michael’s bed, since there was no bedpost. “There,” Travis said.

“What’s that for?”

“Do you have nightmares?” Travis asked, and then quickly added, “Not that you’re afraid or anything.”

Michael shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Well... the next time you go to sleep, and don’t get scared--I mean, have a nightmare... and you’re not worried, you get to take that tack and put it in a jar somewhere.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s like getting a point... a game. Like, you win. And when the jar’s filled up, you get to count how many days that there was nothing to be afraid of... sooner or later there will be more days that you weren’t afraid than there will be days that you were.”

At least Michael was looking at the tack thoughtfully now. Then he asked, “What if it just... stays there?”

“Get me a pen.”

Michael went to his backpack, seeming to wonder what Travis might come up with next, but when he brought Travis a blue marker, he watched as Travis knelt down, took it, and wrote his phone number across the palm of Michael’s hand. “Then you can call me. Anytime.”

Michael finally looked pleased with something, but then just as quickly, became doubtful. “But what if you’re asleep?”

Travis grinned, finally having one thing to guarantee the boy. “Won’t be a problem. I’m awake a lot... but, I do have to get going. Don’t forget to call me if you need to, okay?”

Michael gave a slow nod. “M’kay.”

“Good... so, you should stay in here until I’m gone. I want to talk to your mom for a minute.”

“Okay.”

Travis watched him go to his bed, where he had a hand-held game system tucked under his pillow. He waved goodbye shyly, and Travis found himself gently closing his door on his way out before he turned into the apartment. Emily was in the kitchen, and she had a smile for him, along with a can of soda.

Travis eyed the soda but made no move to take it as she said, “Thank you for this. Sometimes, I just have no idea what to do with him.”

“For starters, you could treat him with a little respect,” Travis advised, which effectively wiped the smile right off her face.

“Excuse me?”

Travis ran a hand over his own face, as if attempting to wipe away his frustration. “Look, I don’t know you,” he said. “But I know him--kids like him. Maybe he doesn’t have it half as bad as some of them, but he doesn’t know that. And whoever you’re going out with tonight, you shouldn’t. You gave up the right to a social life the second he stopped feeling safe. You got rid of the asshole--good for you. But to Michael, every guy is an asshole, so before you bring the next one around him, you should make sure he’s not afraid. And if you don’t do that, I gave him my number, and I’ll be back. You should do something with your kid tonight. Something nice. He deserves that, and someone should give it to him... all he wants is for it to be you.”

........................

It was busy at the center, or seemed that way to Dennis. He supposed he wouldn’t really know.

He’d taken a seat, patiently waiting for Travis to sign himself in as a guest. Dennis hadn’t yet decided if he’d be occupying that seat for most of the afternoon while he waited for Travis to come back, or if he was going in with him. Travis hadn’t asked, but then he seemed content enough that Dennis was simply there.

On the way over they’d come by a street vendor selling yellow flowers. Travis had suddenly started talking about how yellow was Sara’s favorite color, how when he was a kid he’d always give her a yellow flower on Mother’s Day. Dennis had asked if he wanted to stop, pick some up. Travis had laughed out loud and gestured to Dennis to keep driving.

And that was only one reason why Travis Beltnick confused the hell out of Dennis. It had also given him more of a reason to want to avoid meeting this woman. He didn’t understand how Travis could resent someone so much, who also happened to mean a whole lot to him. And, the way Dennis saw it, Sara had to mean a lot to Travis. She seemed to be the biggest reason why he lived the way he did. Sometimes it seemed as if he hated her, but just couldn’t bring himself to let go. At least, that’s how it seemed whenever he mentioned her name, which in retrospect, wasn’t all that often. It was like, if Travis had a dirty little secret her name would be Sara.

And yet, standing there, waiting to see her... Travis seemed oddly calm. Like, being in a mental health facility was perfectly normal. Like, he was looking forward to see a woman who would simply grate his nerves the minute he left.

Dennis happened to glance up as Travis signed in, saw the nurse come to speak to him. He watched Travis’s shoulders go rigid. He saw his mouth opening, by the look of his expression, something filthy was coming out of it. Dennis was on his feet by the time Travis reached him, and didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Travis shook his head, at a complete loss as he worked the muscle in his jaw. “She fucking left. Sara’s gone. And I’m about to kill someone for it. Let’s go.”