Finding My Way Home

There was something about that younger boy from the mugging attempt.  I didn't know what it was, but he was different somehow.  I determined to figure it out.  My heart was aching for this kid who had just breezed into my life.  He seemed to be in need of some real friends.  I spent the next several days looking for him in the park.   I gave up trying during the day.  I guessed he didn't want to be nabbed by the police and questioned about why he wasn't in school.  I started going late at night and hoping to find him in the same way I had the first time.  Eventually that plan worked.

 "Man, why are you out this time of night?"  I looked in the direction of the voice.  I couldn't see anything but the shadows of a large group of bushes.  The voice came again.  "Haven't you done enough to us?"

"I don't know.  I can't see you and I don't recognize your voice, so how do I know if I've done anything to you?" I returned.  I watched as a figure emerged from the bushes.  I could tell the person was not moving very well at all.  As the silhouette drew closer into the light, I recognized this boy as the one that I had fought with the night he tried to rob me.

"I merely defended myself from an attacker and robber.  I see no problem."

"Yeah, well… you wouldn't.  You've probably had everything you've ever wanted handed to you," the boy sneered.  "You probably never got beat up by your drunken old man or sold to his friends for more booze."  His voice broke as he said the last and I knew he hadn't meant to say that to a total stranger.

"You're right.  My dad never beat me.  He loved me in his own way.  He just always took my mom's side of everything."  I knew he was listening.  "My mother told me that she hated me many times more than I can count.  She told me that she never wanted me and would have given me up for adoption if her family hadn't made her keep me."  I paused for a moment to try to gauge his reaction, but I couldn't read this kid.  "Everyone has problems, kid.  There are points in our past that all of us wish we could erase.  The thing is we have to choose what type of person we are going to become as a result of them."

"I didn't have no choice.  I had to do what I had to do to survive.  You wouldn't understand."  The boy's voice was shakier now and he was stepping closer, or limping I should say.  He looked far worse than he did when I had beaten him.  It was also fairly obvious that he needed medical attention.

"Aren't you in pain?  You need to see a doctor," I asked with some concern.  "I can take you if you'd like to go."

"I ain't got no money to see a fucking doctor, man."  At this point he fell heavily at the end of the park bench.  I rushed to his side and could see far more damage than I had done.  He was barely conscious.  There were bruises, scratches and scrapes all over him.  It was also obvious that he had an arm broken.  I got out my cell phone and called the hospital and told them I was bringing in my brother.  The boy wasn't so out of it that he didn't catch that.  "Why are you doing this, man?"

"Because someone needs to, and I want to."

"Why would you want to take care of me?  Man, I tried to rob you just a few days ago."  I was about to answer, but I saw that he had passed out.  I picked him up and carried him back to my apartment and put him in the back seat of my car.  The smell was nearly unbearable.  I wondered if he had ever had a decent bath.  If so, it wasn't anytime recently.

We got to the hospital and I told the nurse at the emergency admitting desk that he was my younger brother.  He had run away from home to join a gang and I had found him in the park like this.  He was rushed into the back, as he was still unconscious.  I signed all the papers they needed and settled down to wait.  I went outside once long enough to call Edan and tell him where I was and why.  He had wanted to join me, but I insisted he stay home as he had a full day of classes the next day.  He finally agreed but only after I promised to call him when I got home.  I didn't tell him that I wasn't going home.  I would stay at the hospital until the boy awoke.  I had to make sure that he was all right, but I also didn't want him to inadvertently spill the beans about my lies. 

The doctor came out a long while later and told me some interesting things.  It seemed 'my brother' had a broken nose, a mild concussion, three broken ribs, a broken arm, a badly sprained wrist on the other arm, and a pulled tendon in his ankle.  The injuries would heal in time with some loving care at home from family.  I smiled and thanked the doctor.  He then cleared his throat and said there was more to hear.

He told me that 'my brother' showed signs of having been raped in the recent past, within the last three to four days, and coincided with the time of the beating.  He also added that he had semen residue in his mouth and throat which was obviously much more recent and did not seem to be from nonconsensual sex, as there were no fresh injuries.  Apparently, he had been both a willing and an unwilling partner in homosexual acts recently.

I sat down hard.  The doctor walked up and reassured me that the physical damage caused by the rape was minimal.  There was some scar tissue, but that was to be expected.  He then added that all of this information would be kept completely confidential.  He also asked if I wanted him to be there when I asked about the recent sexual activity.  I told him that it would not be necessary.  He reminded me that life on the streets was sometimes rough and that this did not necessarily mean that my brother was gay.  I nodded and he left.

Perhaps this boy was not gay, but there was the chance that he was.  I now wanted to talk to him more than ever.  He had been given a sedative and a heavy dose of pain relievers.  He would likely sleep through till morning.  They wanted to keep him for observation for the night.  I didn't care.  I was curious and concerned about the boy now.  I would stay as long as it took.  He was my only link to Derek, but I had come to feel a growing fondness for him as well.  I always had been an old softie.

I was asleep in a chair beside the bed when I was awakened by a presence in the room.  I looked up into Edan's face.  He was looking at me with a conflict of emotions evident in his eyes.  One second he looked angry with me, the next he looked relieved, the next he seemed to be proud, and the next he showed concern.  He confirmed all of this with his words as he whispered to me.

"You were supposed to call me when you came home."  He sounded angry.  "I knew you would be here, though.  I love you, you big pushover you.  I hope you know what you're doing with this one, though," he added, nodding toward the hospital bed.

"I hope so, too."   This voice startled both Edan and I.  We looked to the bed in surprise to see the boy looking at us with a smile.  I was suddenly aware of how cute this kid was.  His hair, which hadn't really caught my eye the night before was an attractive shade of golden blonde, the real color, not from a bottle.  His baby blues were just that, baby blue and filled with warmth and an unexpected innocence that one only sees in the young.  He wasn't as sweet on the eye as Derek, but then I was never really attracted to blondes.  "I told the nurse to let you sleep.  I figure I owe you that much, bro."  The extra emphasis he put on the last word for a change was not negative.  He actually sounded amused.  I had to wonder if it was the pain medication turning him into a human being.

"Good morning, little brother," I returned with the same inflection he had used.  Either the comment or the tone one brought another smile to his face.  He seemed like a different boy than the one I had brought in with me last night.  "How are you feeling?" I asked as I stood and walked over beside his bed.

"Like I was hit by a bus and then sent on one really good trip.  I'm so high; I'm looking down at the space station."  That explained the good mood.  How long would it last, though?

 "Well, when I found you last night, you looked like you had been hit by a bus," I said with a smile.  "Do you want to tell me what happened?  I know I didn't do all this."

"Hell, no.  The gang did this.  I was the leader and I got the shit beat out of me by a fag…I mean by you."  I appreciated the correction.  "They weren't going to let me alone much longer anyway," he added thoughtfully. 

"You mean to tell me that your friends did this to you?"  I asked.

"I didn't say they were my friends, I said they were the gang," the boy replied flatly.  "Death has been after me ever since I let Derek in."  His face suddenly went ashen and he screamed out, "Shit! Derek!!!"  He tried to get up out of the bed, but fell back clutching his side and swearing.  "Man, you shouldn't have brought me here.  You've killed Derek," he hissed through his pain while glaring at me.

"What are you talking about…" My voice trailed off as I realized that I didn't know the name of my "brother".  "I can keep calling you brother, or you can trust me enough to tell me your name so I can find and help Derek.  What's it going to be, bro?"

"You find Derek and I'll tell you my name."

"He brings you to the hospital in the middle of the night, lies for you, and pays your bill for you.  I think he has earned the right to know, you ungrateful little shit," Edan scolded.

"Edan!" I said, grabbing his arm.  "I'll do it!  I want him to know that he can trust me.  Whatever I have to do to accomplish that; I will."  I turned to leave, but one whispered word stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Bro?"  This time the word was said sincerely.  There was an unmistakable sound of little boy innocence in the voice from the fierce gang leader.  "Don't let them hurt Derek."  The trust I had so hoped for was seen in the tear filled eyes that locked onto my face.  I smiled and flashed him a thumbs up sign, then took another step toward the door.  "Big Brother, you can call me Brendan," he called.  I was almost too far away to hear him tell Edan, "But you call me Blade."  I quickly stifled a giggle as the mental image of Edan's shocked face flashed through my head.

I remembered the clump of bushes that Brendan had been hiding in and made that my first destination in my hunt for Derek.  It's a good thing I did, too.  He was there, but he was not alone.  Several of the gang members were there as well.

"Where's Blade, dicklicker?"

"I don't know," Derek replied bravely and truthfully.  He was obviously frightened and near tears, but determined they wouldn't see them.  "Go away and leave me alone, Death!  I'm out of the gang now!"

"You ain't out until the leader says you are, you little faggot!" the punk called Death growled.  "I'm the leader now, not your little butt fucking buddy Blade."  He turned to the others and snarled, "Take him back to the hangout, but remember, nobody gives a shit how many pieces he's in when he gets there.  Just make sure he can talk in case he wants to call his girlfriend, Blade."

I had heard enough.  I have to confess that the danger to Derek distracted me.  I should have moved in on them silently.  I let anger rule though.

"Will anyone care how many pieces you boys are in?"  I asked as I stepped out in front of the two slime balls escorting Derek.  "I know I don't," I added with a grin and a wink to Derek.  As I expected these two didn't take long to dispatch.  I had only had a touch of trouble with Brendan, and without a doubt, he was a better challenge than these two slugs.

"You again," Derek asked.  "Do you get off coming to the park and beating the shit out of people?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I do," I confessed.  "I rather like taking down the bad guys.  It's a relief to know that I can still do it at my age."

"You don't look that old to me," Derek said as he eyed me up and down.  I confess to a cheap thrill when I noticed his eyes linger at my crotch.  I was glad I hadn't worn the tight jeans that Edan liked so much.  They hide nothing, and would have been far too tight to fight in.

Derek and I had walked away from the two punks I left wheezing on the ground.  I hadn't hurt them as much as I had Brendan, but I didn't think they would come back for more.  I was right, of course.  We made it all the way to my car with no more trouble.  I knew I had to get Derek to trust me because I could see the temptation to bolt and run written all across his young face.

"I don't always beat people up when I come to the park," I said.  "In fact, just last night, I came by here and took a new friend to the hospital."

Derek's eyes narrowed instantly.  Any thoughts of trust were immediately banished.  He glared at me as if I were public enemy number one.  When he finally spoke, I was surprised by the venomous hatred in his young voice.

"You're lying!  You son of a bitch!"  I was taken aback by the viciousness evident in his attack on me.  He looked as if he wanted to physically confront me, but was not going to, because he had seen firsthand twice now what I was capable of.

"Derek," I said as lovingly as I could, "I have no reason to lie to you, or to Brendan."  Instantly, his expression shifted.  The hatred was replaced by shock and disbelief, just as I had known it would be.  "Brendan sent me to find you.  He wanted to come here himself and even tried, but he couldn't leave the hospital just yet."

"What the fuck is he still doing there?!"

"Derek, there is a time and place for that word, and this isn't it," I cautioned.  "That mouth of yours is as filthy as the rest of you."

"Are you taking me to Blade, or ain't you?' the boy asked impatiently.

"I refuse to show my face in that hospital with another walking pile of dirt and smell."  He blushed after the last word, but assumed my negative response was firm.

"Fine, I'll walk," he sneered and turned away.  I caught him by the arm and drug him to the car.

"I will not let you walk seven miles alone, even if it is to see your boyfriend in the hospital," I yelled over his protests.  His fighting stopped instantly as my words struck him.

"Blade isn't my…"

"Save it, Derek," I snapped impatiently. "I may be old, make that mature, but I am certainly not senile."  I pointed at the car and told him to get in. 

One of the things I had inherited from Wayne's estate was his car.  He had been in my mom's car when he died.  His own car was a red 1967 Ford Galaxie 500XL Sunliner Convertible.  It had been the first car he had ever bought on his own.  He had gotten it as a graduation present to himself.  He liked it so much he had never gotten rid of it.  He kept that car in mint condition.  It was probably the only thing in his life that one could say he honestly loved.

"It's a good thing that it's a convertible.  You reek, kid," I told Derek as we got in the car.

"Sorry, the gang hideout didn't have running water," he explained indignantly.  He was so cute when he pouted, just like a little kid.  I would have sworn he was like six years old when he did that.

"No need to get your shorts in a wad, Derek," I answered.  "I just made an honest and obvious observation."  The top went down and away we went.

"This isn't the way to the hospital!" Derek said after just a few minutes.

"Give the boy a cookie," I said with a grin.  "You are going to clean up before you go to the hospital to see Brendan."  I parked the car in front of my apartment and led him in.  "The bathroom is the door at the end of the hall.  I'll give you some of my old clothes when you are done."

"Why are you doing all of this?" Derek asked suspiciously.

"Because I am a sucker for dirty little boys," I joked.  A little later I would learn the necessity of planning my words when speaking to a teen.  A very important lesson, I might add.  I went into the spare bedroom to dig around through the boxes of things I was planning to get rid of.  I had to stop for a second to remember which boxes were full of old stuff and which ones were still unpacked. 

Actually, I still managed to get the wrong box three times.  By the time that I had found the clothes I was looking for, the water had been shut off for a few minutes.  I hadn't noticed that, however I certainly noticed when Derek entered the room.  The boy was completely nude!

His dark hair and naturally tanned young body glistened with the moisture of having just come from a hot shower.  His eyes sparkled as well, but it clearly wasn't from the humidity of the bathroom.  I couldn't help myself.  I found my eyes drinking in his pubescent glory.  There was not a hair to be seen on his chest or abdomen.  I saw only the hair surrounding his now fully erect 5" boner.  He took my hand and pulled it to his shaft.

"No, Derek," I said, forcing myself to act against my desire at the moment.  I quickly drew my hand away.  "I can't do that."

"I don't get it," the boy said in obvious confusion.  "Isn't that why you brought me here?  Am I not good-looking enough for you?"  Tears were forming in his eyes, and I could feel the pain and self-doubt in his quivering young voice.  I pulled him to me in a fatherly hug.  I realized he would feel the hard-on he had created for me.

"That should tell you how cute I think you are, but in case there is any doubt left, I think you have a body that far outclasses Michelangelo's David.  You look like a teenage god," I whispered huskily.  "You're not mine to have or take, though."

"I would never tell anyone," Derek protested.

"You wouldn't have to," I explained.  "I would know.  I am in love with Edan, Derek.  We may not be truly together, yet, but it wouldn't be fair to him for me to do anything with anyone else.  I won't cheat on the man I want to be with forever."

"I feel that way about Bren," Derek confessed.  "I hate having to do things with other guys, but like he says, you do what you have to do."

"You don't have to ever again," I told him firmly.  The thought of all the things these boys had gone through broke my heart.  "You will live here now.  I never want to hear of you doing things like that again."

"I still don't get it.  Why do you want to do this for me and Bren?"  He stopped, and looking at me nervously, asked, "He can stay here, too, can't he?"

"Well, the hospital already thinks he's my brother," I answered with a grin.  "I pretty much figured you two were a package deal."

"Yes, we are," Derek confirmed fiercely, and then realized how strongly he had responded.  His face flushed a crimson red.  "Sorry, it's just that…."

"No need to explain, short stuff.  I know how you feel about him, and he about you.  Edan and I feel the same."  A moment later, an odd revelation dawned on me.  "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, why?"

"Because you haven't stopped hugging me," I answered.  His face flamed again, but so did mine at his response.

"You haven't stopped hugging me, either."  I started to let go, but he stopped me.  "Could you hold me just a little longer?  I forgot how good it feels to be held by somebody other than Blade or one of the tricks."

Derek's words cut into me like a knife.  I remembered the loss of my own father, and hugged him tighter for both our sakes.  I could not have stopped the tears that were coming if I had tried.  At that moment, something clicked for me.

"It does feel right somehow, doesn't it?"  My hormones and desires had been replaced by something else.  It was a new feeling for me.  I felt good holding this boy next to me.  I knew I loved him, but it was a type of love that I had never felt before.  I liked it.  I really liked it.

I suddenly realized that I wanted to be a father.  How screwed up is that?  I never wanted kids while I was married to a woman and could have had them.  Now that I was admitting my homosexuality, my paternal instincts kicked in.  I didn't know whether to laugh at myself for being so silly, or to kick myself for waiting so long to want something more in my life.