In the Fishbowl - 30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Dennis closed the blinds in his living room, wishing he could block out the sound of traffic outside along with the late-afternoon light. Slowly, he removed his shoes and came back to the sofa barefoot to sit in front of it, amused as he looked at the figure stretched out over the cushions, his dark head half on, half off the arm.

The only time Travis was truly silent was when he was asleep, and Dennis never really got to see it. Though he knew better than to mention it, even on the nights they shared his bed Travis seemed to toss more than what was usual, and sometimes Dennis even had a bruise or two to prove it. When Travis didn’t sleep, Dennis didn’t sleep. But for once Travis was still, breaths coming soft and shallow as Dennis carefully moved a lock of straight, dark hair off of his brow.

He’d come home from work to find him like this. Travis had shown up right before he had to leave, and since Dennis had only planned to be gone for a few hours, he’d told him he might as well stay. And something about Travis sleeping was oddly relieving. Probably because according to Dennis, Travis didn’t do it enough. If it were up to him, he’d let Travis sleep until tomorrow morning. Seemed like a good idea to Dennis. But, maybe not to any number of people who’d been blowing up the brunet’s phone since Dennis had walked through the door.

He’d quickly silenced it the first and second time, both numbers he didn’t know and didn’t care to, and he frowned when it lit up and started ringing once again where he still held it in his hand.

Dennis lifted the device, moved to ignore the call, and frowned when he saw the name on caller I.D. He hadn’t asked Travis lately if his father was still calling, but when he saw the name John Gordon flashing in front of him it annoyed him enough that he was barely able to prevent himself from chucking the phone at the nearest wall. When he opted to silence the call instead, and then it started again two seconds later, he was ready to answer it himself and tell his father to give the hell up already. Only, a different name stopped him, and Dennis sighed as he carefully shook Travis awake for the only person in the world he was currently willing to do it for.

Bleary-eyed, but quickly alert to his surroundings, Travis shot up, the rigidness in his shoulders fading only as his eyes fell on Dennis’s face.

“It’s Michael,” Dennis said, extending the phone.

Travis stifled a yawn as he reached for it, and Dennis lifted himself from the floor and headed to the refrigerator, his mind on whatever kind of sandwich he would be able to make with the leftovers Mrs. Chesley had stocked it with last night after she and the family had come over for dinner. Retrieving two paper plates, he listened to the soft tone of voice as Travis took Michael’s call.

Travis had been spending a lot of time with the boy, and Dennis wasn’t as surprised by it as anyone else might be. When it came to Travis, no one was safe when he decided he was going to be a part of their life. Travis’s influence being inflicted on an eight-year-old in some instances could be horrifying, sure. But then, from what Dennis could tell, Travis Beltnick was one of the only things that could make Michael smile. And sometimes, it felt like Travis was the only thing that could make Dennis smile, too. That had to count for something.

Actually, it counted for a lot.

Travis groaned. “How long have you been back... how long have I been asleep?”

Dennis glanced over his shoulder to see Travis was off the phone with Michael and heading to the blinds to let the light back in.

“Probably not long enough. Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

Good, because Dennis had already put together Travis’s sandwich. “Everything okay with Michael?”

“Yeah, he just wanted to make sure I was still going to be there tomorrow when the group is going to a movie,” Travis replied, the last part of that around a yawn as he made it into the kitchen to look over Dennis’s shoulder.

Dennis handed him a plate and followed Travis back to the couch instead of the kitchen. While visiting, Travis had stopped eating at the kitchen table, claiming the chairs were too hazardous. “You should try to go back to sleep when you’re done with that,” Dennis suggested, lifting his plate long enough for Travis to hook his knee over one of Dennis’s in a way that was becoming so normal that it was weird when he didn’t do it. “I’ll take off or something so you can sleep.”

Travis laughed. “You’re going to leave your house so I can pass out?”

Dennis shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. He hated it when Travis pointed out he was doing something nice. But then, he was pretty sure that Travis knew that. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

Travis laughed again, and Dennis felt a warm chill slide down his spine as a result of Travis’s lips moving across his neck, teeth subtly grazing skin. “Don’t worry, I will.”
..........................

Dennis stirred his food, his uneaten burrito a mess on his Styrofoam plate after he’d diced it into tiny pieces. It smelled terrible, and reason told him to just leave it alone, but he felt like he needed his hands occupied as his eyes continuously moved towards the counter of the busy fast-food restaurant to the old man that glanced at him every so often, but otherwise ignored his presence.

Dennis hadn’t come for the food. He wasn’t even sure why he was really there. Showing up anywhere to tell his family that he didn’t want anything to do with them was beginning to seem a little hypocritical. Actions spoke louder than words, and all that. But this time it was hard not to feel justified, because this time he wasn’t there to tell his father to stay away from him. He was there to tell him to stay away from Travis.

But the longer he sat there, the more holes Dennis found in his plan. Like, the fact that there wasn’t really even a plan to begin with. He’d been on his way home after seeing Owen, who’d called him out of nowhere, asking for company because Aiden Knightly had apparently left town and according to Owen, that was a bad thing. But oddly enough, the blond had seemed oddly upbeat and hadn’t really mentioned Aiden at all. Dennis had simply gone along with it, and found himself at ease despite his interest in avoiding Owen after their last meeting. They’d even started talking sports for a while, and Owen had listened while Dennis complained about too much noise outside his apartment, not that he thought it was all bad; he liked living on his own.

It had been... a good night, when Dennis started home. And then he’d switched directions without much thought behind it, and he’d ended up here. And even if he wanted to tell his dad to stay the hell away from Travis, there were holes in that itself. Like, as far as anyone, especially John Gordon, was concerned, Dennis would have no right, desire, or need to make such a demand on behalf of Travis Beltnick. Second, all John had done was call him. That wasn’t exactly a crime, and even if it was, Travis had ignored every call, so technically, they hadn’t even had the smallest amount of contact. But Dennis still felt annoyed about it.

Only now, he didn’t know what to do about it. That seriously sucked, since he’d wasted so much time sitting there that he probably smelled like the place, and he no longer could think of anything to say that would make sense even if he worked up the nerve to go to the front counter.

He drained the second refill of his iced tea and decided that maybe it was time to leave. Seemed like the smart thing to do. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that the moment he started sliding out of the booth, his father was sliding into the other side, already biting into a taco with more appetite than Dennis seemed to have.

Dennis leaned back slowly and stared at his father, not really sure what to make of the man. Again. He looked older, and more tired than Dennis had ever seen him, yet completely at ease across from him, as if they did this on a daily basis. That alone made Dennis want to lash out at him, but somehow that seemed as pointless as putting himself back in this position.

“You’re out late,” John finally commented around bites of his food.

Dennis didn’t respond. He didn’t exactly want to comment on what he’d been doing prior to this odd little meeting. Not that he was ashamed to be seen with Owen, he decided. But because really, it was none of his dad’s business.
“Still hanging around Travis?” John said when it was clear Dennis wasn’t feeling talkative.

Before he could stop himself, Dennis reacted to that, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. John caught it and smirked. “What do you care?” Dennis replied.

John shrugged and reached over to scoop the untouched guacamole from Dennis’s plate. “Next time you see him, you should tell him to give me a call.”

Blatant asshole. “Why would I do that?”

If John Gordon picked up any hostility in his son’s tone, he either chose to ignore it or simply not care about it. “I could use him back on the sales team. That boy’s got talent, you know. Not like you or your brother.”

Dennis blinked, but oddly enough, he didn’t take offense. He’d lived for years with his father’s harsh words, and sometimes, he wasn’t sure John Gordon even knew how offensive he could be. “I don’t think he wants to do anything else for you. Besides, he has another job now.” There. If all his dad wanted from Travis was for him to come back to work, which seemed entirely possible given the way that announcement seemed to truly disappoint the old man, then maybe Dennis had done what he’d set out to do in the first place. Maybe Travis’s phone would stop ringing with numbers that had no business calling him.

“That’s too bad. Know where he’s at now?”

“No,” Dennis was quick to lie.

John Gordon shrugged at that, and then allowing the topic to go completely, changed the subject. Dennis might have been relieved by that, if the next words out of his father’s mouth hadn’t made him wish they were still talking about Travis.

“Your mother learned to send text messages and said she doesn’t want anything more to do with you. So how do you suppose I can give her a repeat performance so I can have the same treatment?”

“What?” It wasn’t hearing that his mother didn’t want anything to do with him that took Dennis off guard. In fact, he had no interest in even reacting to that piece of information. It was his father’s reaction to it, and maybe the sinking feeling that John Gordon was suddenly acting like... they were supposed to be bonding over it.

“You obviously pulled a number on her. What did you do, anyway?”

Instead of responding to that, against his better judgment Dennis asked, “You really don’t want anything to do with Mom anymore?” Okay. Maybe he cared about the answer to that more than he’d wanted to let on.

True, maybe a part of him really, really didn’t care. Wanted distance from it. But they were still his parents, and while he was immune to their harsh barbs at each other, and even their smaller battles as of late, this might have been the first time he’d ever actually believed his father’s words in regards to his mother.

John, for a moment, seemed just as surprised by Dennis’s sudden interest as Dennis was, and he leaned back in his seat. “Let me tell you something. I love that woman. But I can’t stand her. All I want is my divorce, and my business, and my girlfriend, because as soon as she starts harping as much as your mom I can drop her with no strings. Your mom deserves better from you, though, just as soon as you tell me what pissed her off enough to keep her away.”

Dennis shook his head, feeling baffled. “I don’t even know why I’m still sitting here.”

John released a short laugh. “We’re family, boy, no matter how hard you try to run from it. You want to get up and walk away? Then walk away. You’ll be back.”

Dennis ground his teeth, not liking the way his body was planted in that seat and not overturning the table and stomping away as loudly as possible. “There must be something more wrong with me than there is with you,” Dennis remarked, and his father laughed out loud as he lifted himself from his seat enough to fish for the wallet in his back pocket.

“I’ve got something for you.”

Dennis frowned, quickly turning suspicious. “I don’t want your money.”

John snorted. “Good, because if you did you’d have to hit your mom up for it, she’s got everything.” He held up a small business card, extended it across the table.

Dennis felt his hand reaching for it under protest from his head, and his mood only soured more as he read the card to himself. “What the hell is this?”

“That camp you used to go to in the summer,” John said as if it were supposed to be obvious.

As usual, Dennis rejected all things football if it involved his father. He dropped the card on the table and crossed his arms defensively. “I think I’m a little old for summer camp.”

John ignored him and spent the next full minute eating his meal. “Frank Caffey. You remember him?”

Dennis nodded slowly, against his better judgment. Every summer Frank had been his coach for years. Dennis had liked him a lot more than the coaches he had when he reached high school. He highly suspected that was because when he was at camp, his father only made appearances when he had a game. “What about him?”

“Ran into him last week. Asked about you.” John paused in his eating to look at Dennis pointedly. “I told him you had your head up your ass. He thinks you should stop by and see him.”

“What for?” Dennis asked.

“You don’t need your knee to coach, do you? He’s short on staff this year. Kids should be showing up right about now. Pay’s fair enough and you get one of these...” John paused as he pulled a coupon book from his pocket and dropped it on the table, opening to the second page. “Look at that. Fifty percent off an oil change.” He paused to run a hand through his graying hair. “Got my hair cut for seven bucks.”

Dennis sighed, his hands gathering what was left of his meal, and found himself standing slowly. “You know, this was fun, but I think I’m going to get out of here.” For good, he silently promised himself.

But John Gordon didn’t seem finished yet as he flicked at the card on the table, making it slide across the surface, not stopping until it had come close to going over the edge. “Hey, don’t forget that. And don’t look at me like that. It’s not coming from me, just the advice. Frank said you always had a way with the game. I’ll agree with him, at least when you get your head out of your ass. You’re so hell-bent on living your life for yourself? Fine. At least do something you enjoy with it. Maybe I’m the one who gave it to you, boy, but you’re still the one who gets to decide what to do with it.”

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

“Why did you stop working for my dad again?”

Travis looked over his shoulder where he was installing new blinds in Dennis’s living room. Dennis had come home with them, and Travis had learned why as he’d complained about Valentine not being used to apartment living. Apparently, she’d tried looking out the window so hard that she’d taken half the blinds down with her. Dennis had raved at the dog so vocally in his attempt to put them up that she’d cowered under the kitchen table until Travis had tempted her out with a piece of ham, and then he’d volunteered to finish up the job himself, even though it meant having to stand on one of the chairs that had literally, let him down before.

“What?” he asked, not liking the question any better than he liked Dennis’s current mood. It didn’t seem to be like a very good day for Dennis Gordon, and since Travis hadn’t made it over the night before, he’d already decided that he was never going home again. Not if Dennis’s mood could change so quickly overnight. He liked him happy. Wanted him to stay happy.

In response, Dennis shrugged a shoulder and went back to folding his laundry.

Frowning, Travis tightened a screw, carefully made his way off the chair and then moved to the sofa, effectively blocking the blond from what he was doing. “What’s wrong with you?”

Dennis narrowed his eyes, obviously taking offense to that as he reached around Travis and tugged a pair of his jeans free from behind Travis’s body. “I’m curious, okay? You never said why.”

Travis frowned, feeling, justly in his opinion, that the answer should be obvious. “Because of you. Stop being such an asshole about it.”

Dennis paused, dropping the clothes unceremoniously into his laundry basket without folding them first. His frown deepened, but the lines around his eyes had softened considerably. “Did you really like working for him? You weren’t just saying all that... you know, to piss me off?”

Travis had to smile at that. He stood, feeling much more comfortable eye to eye with Dennis. “I said a lot of things to piss you off. You’re fun when you’re all rattled,” he remarked, his fingers moving to playfully pinch at Dennis’s taut ribs. “But it doesn’t matter if I really liked the job or not. You’re happier now that I don’t have it. Worth it, too,” he added, his eyes glazing over as they drifted down Dennis’s chest, past his belt.

Before Dennis could respond, Travis’s mouth met his, his tongue invading with a sneak assault before he suddenly moved past him, across the room to scoop up Valentine, snuggling her as if he was worried she was still distressed over her rougher-than-usual day.

Dennis watched, amused by the way his own damn dog seemed to like Travis better than him. But he felt concerned, too. Okay, so he’d known exactly why Travis had quit working at the dealership. But he’d also convinced himself that Travis was much better off for it. Until speaking to his father the night before. It wasn’t often anyone received a compliment from John Gordon, and that’s what Travis had gotten. Still, Dennis had hoped that Travis was still thrilled about the idea of never having to face the old man again. Only now, he wasn’t so sure.

Travis had given up a lot lately. Some his own choice more than others. But then, Dennis didn’t really feel comfortable being the reason for any of it. Especially, the reason for why Travis no longer had a day job, and was going stir crazy... not that Travis would admit that. But Dennis knew, and now he was starting to feel... pretty fucking bad.

He wanted to gut his father for that.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t think about me, when you make decision like that.”

Travis turned, and with Valentine licking his chin, looked at Dennis as if he were the biggest idiot who’d ever graced his presence. “You’re about all I think about,” he informed him. “I like it that way. I thought you did, too.”

Dennis frowned. “Why?”

Travis shrugged. “I made a choice, Dennis. And you’re a lot more fun to be around than your dad. So let it go, okay? We should do something tonight. Owen’s finally decided to come back to work. Any idea what’s going on with him, anyway?”

Dennis opened his mouth, whether to respond to his odd line of questioning or the topic of the youngest Dovan brother, Travis really didn’t know. But a hesitant knock on the door distracted him and his response never came.

They both frowned. Dennis, because he never had visitors unannounced. Travis, because he would have liked to hear whatever Dennis had to say. He put down Valentine so she could do her job and play guard dog when Dennis went to answer the door, and then nothing else mattered as Travis watched Dennis’s shoulders tense and found himself moving closer as if he wanted to shield him from the smallest... and perhaps biggest threat, too, Dennis had ever known.

“Hey, Ben,” Travis said calmly, when Dennis didn’t seem capable of it. That earned him a suspicious look from Dennis. Travis rolled his eyes at him in return. I didn’t invite him.

Ben seemed... pale. Pale enough that Travis was half tempted to take pity on him and bring out a bucket in case he needed to puke. But it wasn’t like he was threatening the carpet; a foot back from the door he only seemed to have eyes for Dennis, who Travis found in his best interest to worry about more.

Because Dennis Gordon didn’t like being taken off guard. Travis knew that. Sometimes even took advantage of the fact. But in this case, he wished that Ben would have called ahead. Whatever Dennis’s current mood was about, Travis didn’t think he really needed this, and if Dennis had no choice in the matter, a little time to prepare would have been nice. But then, Travis also refused to be put off by it too much, since he’d gotten close enough to see that Leo wasn’t at the door with the guy.

“Hi,” Ben said slowly. “Sorry to show up like this...”

“Travis is right here,” Dennis said quickly, as if Travis would be the only reason for Ben Summers to show up at his door.

Travis politely didn’t react to that.

Ben nervously scratched at the back of his blond neck, his eyes dropping to Dennis’s shoes. “Actually, Owen told me where to find you,” Ben said, and then when he saw the look on Dennis’s face, quickly added, “under protest. Until I told him why I wanted to talk to you.”

Dennis took a defensive step back, and Travis wondered if he even realized if Ben looked even more terrified than he did. “You want to talk to me?” Dennis asked.

“Ben shifted on his feet, his expression tightening as if he thought that should be obvious. Finally, he met Dennis’s eyes. “Yeah. I’m not happy about it, but you’re the only person who knows the answers to the questions I have--you know what I’m talking about. I know what happened to me, but I don’t know what happened. I want you to tell me.”

Travis, just like Ben, waited while Dennis debated at the door, and then finally asked, “Does Leo know you’re here?”

Ben looked like he resented that question, but ultimately decided it was as fair as everyone else did. “He drove me here.”

Dennis seemed to consider that, too, for an equal amount of time, and then finally asked, “Do you want to come in?”

Now it was Ben who debated, but Travis was already pulling on his sweater and hooking Valentine’s leash to her collar. He was standing at the door by the time Ben gathered enough courage to step through it. “I’ll be back,” he said to Dennis, knowing better by now that Dennis wouldn’t necessarily want him around for this. Besides, Travis already knew anything that Dennis could possibly tell Ben, and in all honesty, he was more curious about what condition he would find Dennis in when he returned.

Dennis gave him a curt nod, spared Valentine a quick glance, and then seemed hesitant about closing the door in their faces.

Travis looked down at the little dog and let out a breath. Okay. Maybe he wanted to go back in there, just a little bit. But not for curiosity’s sake. He of all people understood what it was like to confront demons, and he didn’t like the idea of Dennis doing any such thing, especially unsupervised. And as cranky as he’d been. But then, this needs to happen, Travis thought. He couldn’t understand why it hadn’t thus far, ever since the moment Dennis had opened up enough to tell him all about it. He only hoped that Dennis would still be open enough to talk to him when he got back.

Maybe Travis wasn’t much of a feelings sort of guy, but he wanted to listen. He wanted to be there for Dennis Gordon as much as the guy had been there for him when Sara had pulled her most recent bout of shit. Maybe it was because Travis thought it might draw them closer together. Hoped it did. He was quickly growing comfortable in their odd little relationship. Sex and more, as he silently referred to it. Often. It was the more part that was getting to him. He liked Dennis. Liked talking to Dennis. Didn’t give a rat’s ass half the time that Dennis liked to mention on occasion that he was capable of having the same feelings for women, because he was the one currently keeping Dennis occupied. He wanted to keep it that way. Travis Beltnick wanted to be more than sex. He might have laughed over that train of thought, if he wasn’t so damn serious about it.

And maybe that’s why, even deciding he could wait until Dennis was done talking with Ben, he couldn’t help himself when he reached the parking lot with the little black dog and quickly zeroed in on Leo’s red head behind the driver’s seat of a red Camaro.

Scooping Valentine into his arms, Travis walked across the lot and slid comfortably into the passenger seat of said car, looked over the plush interior, and threw his feet up on the dashboard. “This is nice,” he remarked.

Instead of responding, Leo gave him an appropriately dirty look, shoved his feet to the ground, and proceeded to pick up a container full of Armor-all-covered cloths. He handed one to Travis with a pointed look, and then glared at the dog in his car.

“Do not let go of her, or I’ll clean whatever she does up with your face.”

Smirking, Travis obligingly wiped down the dashboard, but didn’t feel too worried when Valentine jumped out of his lap and went to press her nose against the back window. When he was finished he passed the cool cloth back to Leo and then leaned back in the seat, his eyes focused through the clear windshield. He could feel Leo’s gaze on him, maybe even a bit hostile, but Travis figured that this was just as good a place to wait for Dennis as any.

He really didn’t have anything against Leo Sader, until Leo openly had something against Dennis, that is. But other than that, Ryan had never told Travis anything negative about his cousin. In fact, Travis always got the impression that Ryan looked up to him. Ryan was one of the better people that Travis knew, so he figured that had to count for something, and after several long minutes, Leo let out a breath that seemed to be one of resignation.

“You think you know why I’m angry,” Leo suddenly said, drawing Travis’s attention. “But you don’t really know. What they did to Ben... that’s not even the worst half of it. You don’t know. You can’t know the way he still has nightmares. He tries to hide it from me, and sometimes we fight when I won’t let him. He’s the best person I’ve ever known, and sometimes he doesn’t even feel safe in his own house, with me. And that’s my fault--that’s where caring about Dennis Gordon got me. That’s where it got Ben. Ben was only there because he didn’t want to get between me and someone who he thought was my friend. Now every day, I wish it had been me.”

Travis was silent for a moment, his fingers moving through Valentine’s coat when she jumped back on his lap. “Wishes won’t get you anywhere. At least Ben’s dealing with his problems. That should be enough. He doesn’t need your hang-ups, too.”

Leo regarded him as if that were the most inconsiderate thing he’d ever heard.

Refusing to apologize, Travis shrugged. “He doesn’t want to be a victim anymore. That, I do understand. I don’t really care if you believe me, but I know what I’m talking about,” he added when Leo narrowed his eyes. “There’s nothing worse than being a victim when someone else is responsible for it, so trust me, you don’t wish it was you. He doesn’t wish it was you. You care about him, so try to understand that. Let him feel what he’s feeling, because something like that... you can’t just take it away. You can’t beat it out of someone else just because you’re angry. You can’t fix it. No one can. ”

“Then what, exactly, am I supposed to do, genius?”
Travis smiled, nodded towards Dennis’s apartment. “He’s standing alone in the same room as Dennis and you’re still out here. Seems like a good start to me.”

Leo didn’t seem to like being reminded of that, not one bit, and for a moment Travis wondered how interesting this situation would get if he were to be forced to tackle Leo before he could break down the door.

“And what is Dennis telling him right now?” Leo finally asked.

Travis sighed. “I think you’ll have to ask Ben that.”

Leo regarded him inquisitively. “Who the hell are you, anyway, Travis? To Dennis?”

Travis felt the corners of his mouth turn up. “That, you’ll have to ask Dennis--if you ever get around to forgiving him.”

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

Maybe it was too much to ask that Leo and Dennis go back to being friends overnight. Or... ever. But whatever had gone on between Dennis and Ben during their talk, it had made a noticeable enough difference. Like, the perpetual chip Dennis seemed to wear on his shoulder seemed noticeably lighter to Travis. Or maybe it was just Dennis’s mood.

Travis knew the guy didn’t like giving himself much of a break where his faults were concerned. But maybe Ben giving him a break had made a difference. And Travis would never think that Ben Summers wouldn’t give someone a break. He seemed too forgiving, and too honest to hold someone accountable for something that was out of their control.

Dennis hadn’t brought any of it up yet, and Travis was simply waiting until he was ready. Meanwhile, he was enjoying Dennis’s better mood. Dennis, who spoiled Valentine as his way of apology for all the crankiness, and who showed up at the club without being asked when Travis was working just to tell him he should come over when he got off. Travis liked this Dennis. Hell, he’d admit to liking all versions of Dennis, but maybe this one in particular. Thinking about him gave Travis a reason to smile, and maybe a reason to be distracted, and he almost didn’t block himself in time when a baseball came flying towards the one part of his anatomy that wouldn’t have forgiven such an assault.

Travis’s eyes widened as he watched the ball roll away. “Watch it, Michael!” he complained.

“You’re not watching!” Michael retorted as he ran forward to scoop it up with his small gloved hand.

Travis heard the agitation in Michael’s small voice and had to smile about it. The kid had a point. He really wasn’t paying much attention today, and in the short time he’d known Michael, Travis was well aware that he was one of the few people the boy liked attention from.
“Alright. Sorry. We’ll go again,” Travis insisted, not caring to be someone’s disappointment today. He readied the bat he’d borrowed from Ryan and mustered all the seriousness that Michael required for their game.

“One more time,” Michael warned, as if he were more than willing to march Travis right off their little handmade baseball field and give him a stern talking to. “Keep your head in the game.”

“Got it.” Travis nodded. He really liked the kid. Even when Michael was full of attitude. Especially then, Travis decided with a grin. He wasn’t someone’s ill-mannered child. He was expressing himself, the way Travis saw it. Michael wanted his thoughts to count just as much as anyone else’s, and that was better than the boy he became every so often, who hid under his hoodies and pretended to be invisible. Lately, that boy had disappeared as soon as Travis walked into a room, and Travis was rather proud of that.

And Travis would rather spend time with Michael than the groups of children at the center, and the feeling seemed to be mutual, so when no one was bothering to notice except for Ben, Travis had taken to walking Michael down the block to an empty lot where they’d marked out bases with spray paint and sometimes they spent all afternoon there. The afternoon before had been particularly special for Michael because his mom had shown up and played with him for a while, but today things seemed a little rougher. Travis wasn’t discouraged, though, as he watched Michael put effort into his pitch that only a child could. Travis made contact with the ball, making sure to look like it hadn’t been easy for him, and then watched Michael’s face light up when he realized it was coming right back at him and he stood a chance at catching it.

Travis dropped the bat and started for the bases, anyway, taking his time about it.

“You’re out!” Michael cheered as he caught the ball before it hit the ground. “Travis, you’re out!”

Travis made it to first base. “What was that?” he asked innocently as he continued on towards second. Michael was now on his way towards him, ball in hand.

“You’re supposed to stop running now!”

“Am I?”

“Yes, I...”

Travis raised an eyebrow at the boy, who caught onto his teasing and in return attempted to muffle his laughter while he tried to look stern.

“Stop running!” Michael demanded as he came full speed at Travis.

Laughing, Travis ran faster, only to turn right before third base to grab and tickle the boy. “Did I win?” Travis asked.
“No!” Michael laughed, squirming so badly as Travis got his ribs that he dropped the ball. “You’re not following any of the rules!”

“I get that a lot,” Travis remarked, ruffling Michael’s hair and giving him a pat on the back. “I’ll play right. Promise. Go grab the ball.”

Travis watched as Michael ran off, shaking his head at the kid’s clumsy gait. He really wanted Dennis to come out here sometime with him, deciding that Dennis might even enjoy himself. Michael grabbed the ball, turned and headed back, and then without warning stopped, his previously happy expression turning to guarded confusion. Frowning, Travis turned to follow Michael’s gaze, and barely had time to lift his arm in defense at the bat being swung at his head.

Snap. Hot pain came fast, as did the ground as Travis found himself on it, staring blankly down at his wrist. His bones, beneath his reddened skin, suddenly seemed to be in all the wrong places. Yep. That’s broken. He blinked slowly, his ears ringing as he felt what he was looking at, pain causing him to wince as he looked up and then paled as he saw Lyle Gordon standing over him while he heard Michael release a heartfelt sob somewhere behind him.

And Travis’s heart sank, along with his stomach, as he took note of the smooth metal piece in Lyle’s hand, the way his finger was on the trigger, because Michael wasn’t even ten feet away and Travis wasn’t on his feet to stand between them.