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Patt's getting a tad bit bogged down in real life, so I'm taking over for her on Courage Under Fire for a bit. My name is Kel, my address is dragonbane4@aol.com
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Jim could see Megan trailing him but it didn't matter. His goal was the same, his new house. The house he'd bought for him and Blair to live in; now the house for Jim and his shame.
//Why didn't I remember! Why didn't I say no to you, Dad!?// Jim was unable to believe it. //If Megan hadn't been there, what would you have done, would you have fucked me, Dad?// His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He'd repressed more than just Bud Heydash's murder years ago, he realized, most of his childhood was a blank but now the floodgates were open and he was remembering so much more than he wanted to.
//William Ellison's hands cupping his young son's scrotum in gentle hands, checking to see that both balls had dropped.//
//William Ellison pinching Jim's nipples to test his sensitivity.//
//A jerking, stroking motion against his cock, his father saying he was judging the length and girth before buying Jim his first jock strap.//
Then one final memory Jim recalled with crystal clarity.
--Flashback--
It was 1974. Seventeen year old Jim, getting ready for a Friday night. His hair was unfashionably short but it didn't matter to the girls. His jeans were comfortable and snug, his white t-shirt pleasingly form-fitting. His fringe leather jacket was thrown over the back of his chair, waiting to be picked up on the way out the door, his father leaning in the doorway.
//Looking good, Jimmy.//
//Thanks, Pops.// He checked out the high school letter jacket--he'd lettered in football--but ditched it in favor of the fringed leather yet again. He looked out and his baby--a 1972 Chevrolet pickup--was sitting gassed up in the front drive and waiting for him to get in and crank her up.
//Going out with that Marianne girl tonight?//
//Nope, me and her are old news, Pops, I'm going cruising with the new girl, Erica.//
//Erica… don't think I met her.//
//No, I never brought her by. We're not that cool yet, hoping we will be after tonight though.// He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, ignoring his father there. The touching had stopped several years ago, thank God.
William reached down and subtly adjusted himself. //Bring her by tonight, I'd love to meet her.//
//I'll bring her by tomorrow if it works out tonight.// He reached out and picked up the black jacket, straightening the fringe.
//I think Stevie's gonna be home tonight,// William said thoughtfully. //Maybe I'll get him to help me out in the office.//
The mention of Stevie's name in connection with that metaphor made Jim's gut wrench. //I thought he was going out with Donna.//
//Her mom called last night; Donna's got the chicken pox. She won't be able to go out.//
I won't let you have Stevie, Dad. //Don't worry about getting Stevie to help you, Dad, I'll stay home with him so he's not hanging out by himself.//
//If you stay home, Jimmy, I can always use *your* help in the office.//
It was then that Jimmy knew his choice. Stay home and protect Stevie and have it start again or leave and know that Stevie was going through the same thing he had. And it wasn't much of a choice. //I'll call Erica; she'll understand, she wasn't too hot about cruising the drag with me anyway.//
Then Jim's memory switched to later that night. He was bent over his dad's desk, nails digging into the finish as his dad thrust roughly into him. He could hear Stevie upstairs in his bedroom, one of Jim's Santana albums blaring loudly.
--End Flashback--
Jim couldn't drive any longer, but as he looked around he realized he didn't have to. He was sitting in front of his new house, he didn't know how long he'd been there, but he stumbled out of the truck and sat against the front left tire, sobbing.
Meanwhile…
Blair was sitting in the passenger seat beside Stephen. They'd stopped by the station briefly to get the directions to Jim's new house, and though Simon had almost insisted, Blair had gotten them out with the least bit of information possible.
Megan had helped them with that, reassuring Simon that she would fill him in on everything that she knew, and yes, that meant everything. Blair had pled with her, but that was Simon's condition. Stephen knew they were not in the position to argue so he dragged Sandburg with him as Megan started pouring out the entire, sordid story.
Once Stephen was behind the wheel, he drove like a bat out of hell into the mountains, keeping the Jag flying at eighty the entire way as he poured his heart out to Blair. "Oh, God, Blair, I was so jealous of Jim as we were growing up!! Dad always wanted him around, calling him into his office, taking him out to buy him things, new athletic stuff… and when they would come home from the trips Jimmy always ran to his tree. I didn't know, Blair, Christ, I didn't know." Stephen felt sick to his stomach. "He was being hurt… all that time, he was being hurt and I was jealous! I think I'm going to be sick." Stephen pulled the black Jaguar over to the side of the road and began to vomit.
"Hey, Stevie, it's okay. You didn't know, you just thought that he was getting preferential treatment from your dad." He used the same trick that worked on Jim, rubbing his back to calm him down.
"Jesus, and he forgave me too! He just forgave me and said it was Pop's fault for pittin' us against each other and oh, Blair, *he was trying to protect me too!*" Stephen almost keened those last words out.
Blair said nothing, there was nothing he *could* say, he just left his arms around Stephen until the other man got control of himself, with deep hitching breaths. "Give me the keys, Stephen." Stephen surrendered his keys to Blair, and Blair got behind the wheel of the Jaguar. "Look in my backpack, there's a bottle of water," ordered the young professor, and Stephen obeyed again, sipping from the bottle as Blair eased the big car back out on the road.
He cruised the throttle to fifty, and kept the big car steadily on course as they got closer to Jim's house. When they rounded the last curve, Stephen pointed out the turnoff to Jim's house and Blair took it, and within seconds he could see the big F-150 and at the front tire, Jim sitting on the ground.
He saw Jim look up, see him in the driver's seat, and get to his feet. Blair jerked the door open and pelted towards his lover. "Jim, no! Jim, wait, don't go!" He pumped his legs as quickly as he could, and they carried him to the fleeing Sentinel. He threw himself across the last few feet separating them, and Jim caught him. "Jim, oh, God, don't ever think you're going to leave me," Blair said, locking his arms around Jim's neck and his legs around Jim's waist. "I saw you running from me and I never want to see you run from me again. I love you, Jim, I love you more than anything."
Jim felt himself pulled away from Blair and into a bear hug from Stephen. "Jimmy… I love you so much, big brother."
Blair ushered them up the creaky steps, but Jim grabbed him and pulled him back, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist. "Stay with me, babe, this is going to be so hard to remember." He looked over at Stephen. "I hated you so much after I left… I blamed you because I thought… I blamed you because I let him do it to me and I write it off as trying to protect you."
"You did protect me, Jim, he never even looked at me," Stephen said, clinging to Jim as Jim unlocked the door. The sparse furnishings stood out, and Jim tumbled on the sofa, with Blair on one side of him, and Stephen sitting beside him. Stephen laced his fingers together and rested his head on them. "Jesus, Jim, if I had known he would do this, I wouldn't have let you go with just Megan as your backup. I should have known, Jimmy, should have known he'd do anything when I saw him on the tape, heard what he said."
Jim pulled Blair into his lap, seeking the comfort of contact. Blair obliged, holding him tightly and curling into his warmth. "I just remembered stuff, Stevie, on the way up here," Jim said softly. "You didn't know, you had no way of knowing."
"But I did, Jim," Stephen confessed, his face twisting with pain. "I found out today. Not everything, but enough to suspect dirty stuff and I just let you walk into it without telling you." He looked at Jim, and then looked around. There was no VCR in the house, so he swallowed hard. "Frank gave me a video today, Jim, it was one he'd taken this morning, of William and Wilkerson, while he was staking the place out. William… he… pretended that Wilkerson was you."
Part of Jim was angry as hell at Stevie for not warning him. But the Protector instinct crowded out the anger, for now. "Don't worry, Stevie, you didn't know the old man was still sick in his head. We gotta get him help, Stevie, that's all. Get him to a shrink, something, and get him some serious help."
"Jimmy, no, I don't ever want you going around him ever again. He's a bastard, he's a sick mean old bastard who… who…" Stephen couldn't even bring himself to finish the thought.
Jim hugged Stephen hard. "We got through it when we were kids, Stevie, we'll get through it now," he said thickly. "We just gotta stick together."
"Jim I was so jealous of you, when we were growing up. I thought… the old bastard was playing games and he was just favoring you over me. I didn't know--what was going on. I thought all those times he called you into his office he was calling you in to help with his work, and I hated that, Jimmy, because I wanted to be the one he called in there. I would break your stuff, break your toys and trash the room while you were in there so you'd get in trouble later." Stephen sat back and looked at Jim, still unable to meet his brother's eyes.
Jim kept his arms around Stephen's shoulders as Blair slid around to wrap his arms around Jim's waist. The hugging chain remained in place for long, silent moments until Stephen's cell phone started to ring. The younger Ellison scrabbled for the phone, and caught at it as it fell open into his hands. "Hello?"
"I want to talk to Jimmy," William said, with no preamble.
"You bastard! How dare you call and want to talk to Jim, how dare you after what you did! How dare you how dare you!" Stephen screamed into the phone. "You stay away from Jim, you keep away from him for the rest of your life! Leave Jimmy alone!"
Jim plucked the cell phone out of Stephen's death grip with shaking hands. "Let it go, Pops. You've lost us both," Jim said quietly, his voice barely shaking. His shoulders shook instead. "I don't want to see you again, Stevie doesn't want to see you again. What you did… it was inexcusable, Pops. I just remembered it, Pops, what you did brought it back. I hate you for it. I hate you for doing it to me then, and I hate you for doing it to me now. I will always hate you for it."
"I loved you, Jimmy, that's how I showed you."
"That wasn't love," Jim choked out, and Blair took the phone out of his hands, and turned it off. He stuck it under the cushions of the couch. "That wasn't love," Jim whispered. "You don't hurt someone you love."
Blair turned Jim around to look at him. "I am going to get my backpack. I have tea bags. Do you have water, and cups?"
Jim rubbed his arm across his face. "Um… yeah. This place has a well. The, uh, the cups are in the back of the Explorer, I haven't--I didn't--"
"It's okay. I'll look around and see what we've got. I'll make some tea, and you'll drink it, both of you. It'll help calm you down." He got up, and wrapped his arms around himself as he looked at Jim. "Calm both of you down. Ignore the phones; I'll call Simon later and tell him that if he needs to get in touch with us, he'll have to come up here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll take you to town and get you a new cell phone, Jim. One that your dad can't call you on."
"I love you, Sandburg," was Jim's response as he hugged his brother.
"I love you too, Jim," Blair responded, leaning in and briefly but deeply kissing Jim. "You and Stevie stay here." He dug Stephen's cell phone out of the couch cushions, and disappeared into the kitchen. Dialing the station, he waited impatiently for it to ring as he looked in the cabinets and found a copper teakettle. He let the kettle fill up with water and put it on the range, thankful the gas turned on with the turn of the knob. Finally, Simon picked up.
"Station 54, Banks."
"Simon, it's Blair."
"Sandburg!"
Even without Sentinel hearing, Blair could hear the commotion in the background as everyone crowded around the phone to hear. "Yeah, we're up here at the cabin. William just tried to call Jim through Stephen, and apparently Jim's been remembering some stuff, and it's kicking both their asses. Stephen's got a major guilt complex, Jim's hiding it all--"
"--As usual," Simon butted in.
"Why doesn't that surprise me. Look, what I'm calling for is this; can all you guys get up here? You'll still be on the line, just not at the station. Jim's got a truck full of stuff here that he's not in the shape to do anything with, and I think he'll feel better with friends around. And is there any way that we can seal the property records so that his father doesn't get wind of where he is?"
There was a flurry of talk and activity in the background. "Megan and Henry and Sarah and I will be up there shortly. Joel, Rafe, and Jennifer are going to the store to get food supplies--I don't care what Jim's got, he can always use more--and they'll be up as soon as they're done shopping."
The teakettle started to whistle, and Blair cut through the living room to pick up his backpack from beside the door. He dug through and pulled out the box of chamomile tea and rummaged through the cabinets as Simon talked. "Man, that would be so great," he finally said. "I just don't think either of them needs to be alone right now, and I'm not exactly the right company."
"Understood. Just hang tight, Blair, we're on the way."
"Thanks, sir." Blair hung up as scrounged up two mugs and poured the hot water over the tea bags. Carrying the two mugs into the living room, Jim and Stephen were talking quietly on the couch, and Stephen seemed to be more in control of himself. Sitting himself on the coffee table in front of the couch, he put tea mugs in each man's hand.
"Stephen, Jim, listen to me, both of you. Neither of you are to blame for this. William Ellison is. He's the one that hurt both of you."
Stephen nodded. "Jimmy said that too. He even said it was okay that I was jealous cause there was no way I could have known. He said he fought to hide it so I wouldn't. He said there was no way I could have."
"That's what big brothers are for, right?" The surety in Jim's voice didn't reach his eyes, but Blair was the only one who caught it. "I had to make sure he didn't fuck with you, Stevie, you're my baby brother and I love you, no matter what he did."
"Did he threaten me, Jimmy?"
"A couple of times, yeah, but I took care of it." Stephen winced at the thought of Jim *taking care of it.* "Don't worry, Stevie, it was over and done with a long time ago."
"I just wish you never had to remember it at all."
"You and me both," Jim said, sipping from the tea. It was weak tasting and he made a slight face. "But I do, and now I've got to deal with it."
"But you won't be dealing with it alone," Blair said firmly. "You've got a mate and a brother that's going to help you."
Jim cocked his head, listening. Blair caught the motion and consulted his watch. //Damn he must have put wings on that damn truck!//
"Someone's coming," Jim said, as he heard a truck pull up. There was four heartbeats--five, but the fifth one was faint, and he saw the explanation as he looked out the window and saw Megan spill out of the truck first. //The baby.// "Megan!"
Blair smiled as he watched Jim get up from the couch and move through the house. He wasn't running, but the pace was faster than his usual lope and it carried him off the small porch and halfway down the drive to engulf the pregnant woman in his arms. "Hallo, Jim."
"If you hadn't been there, hadn't been thinking and--"
"It's what friends do."
"My dad pushing you didn't hurt the baby did it?" he asked fearfully. "I heard the heartbeat when you drove up."
"The baby's fine," busted in Simon, who came up to offer Jim a hand. Jim clasped it and pulled him into a hug too. "Megan told me how you defended her; thanks, Jim. I'm ready to go punch your old man out myself for talking to her that way."
A slightly pained expression crossed Jim's features. "Nobody talks about my family that way, Simon, and that's what you guys are. You're all my family."
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