#he for sure paid for aaron's medical degree too

[bisexualchaosdemon]

A HC I hold dear in my heart: Andrew goes to law school remotely during the off-season, so when he retires, he can become the advocate he needed as a kid

[knox-knocks]

A Story Told By Storms and Rain

read on a03

1.

Andrew couldn’t see anything outside his bedroom window. The sky outside was too dark, the rain coming down too heavy. Another crack of lightning lit up his room, allowing a brief second where Andrew could see the little space he was allowed; the messy bedsheets, the broken crayons hidden under the small dresser across from him, the battered book he had borrowed from the library last week.

He’d only been at this foster house for a couple months, and even at eight years old Andrew was old enough to know that this house wouldn’t last, either. He didn’t want it to, anyway. It wasn’t as bad here as it was at the last house, at least in this one no one ever sneaked into his room after dark.

Another low rumble of thunder shook the house. Andrew hunched farther under his blankets and squeezed his eyes shut. He hated rain, the dark it brought with. He hated that he couldn’t leave the house when it was wet and muddy outside, lest he tracked the dirt inside and didn’t get it cleaned up before his foster father came home. But most of all, he hated the thunder, the way it shook the walls and set Andrew’s teeth on edge.

Lightning and rain, Andrew could handle. Thunder put him too much on edge.

Andrew considered switching the light on and banishing the shadows from his room for good, but he couldn’t risk his foster father seeing it and getting mad, the old bruises hidden underneath Andrew’s shirt were still healing. Mottled purple and blue, it would be better to wait the storm out by himself in the dark.

Over the pounding of rain on the roof above him, Andrew thought he heard the floor in front of his door creak. His eyes snapped open and he froze, feeling the air drop ten degrees cooler. Andrew was sure if he dared to breathe, his breath would come out in a puffy white cloud before him. He stayed like that for minutes, not moving, not even breathing, listening for the sound of footsteps behind him or the creak of the doorknob turning, but it never came.

When Andrew was finally able to draw air into his lungs again, he turned over to face the door, shifting so the sheets wouldn’t get tangled around his legs. He scooted back, not taking his eyes off the door, and pressed his back to the wall, the window above him leaching any warmth that the blankets could provide.

Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. Andrew wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

2.

The rain beat a violent rhythm on the walls of the bathroom, doing nothing to help the pounding in Andrew’s temples. It didn’t often rain in Oakland, California, but when it did, it stormed.

Andrew spotted the angry, gray storm clouds in the distance while on his walk back home from school that afternoon. Large and foreboding, the clouds made a thread of anxiety wiggle its way inside Andrew’s chest, making him feel all jittery and shaky. He hated when it stormed. Cass was outside pulling the laundry from the clothes line to be taken inside when she saw Andrew approaching. She told him what AJ already knew: a storm was heading their way.

Now, he was huddled inside the Spears’ guest bathroom, arms hugging knees and back pressing into the cold porcelain of the bathtub. If he could help it, Andrew wouldn’t leave the sanctuary he carved out in the bathroom until the storm was over, or until Andrew could go to school the next morning.

He saw how Drake kept looking at him all throughout dinner, how his slick smile was somehow made worse by the drizzle of rain starting outside. How perfect, Andrew thought bitterly, a day all alone with my foster brother while the storm rages outside. How cozy.

Andrew’s stomach turned. He felt his headache get worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept without nightmares plaguing his dreams, the last time he was even able to relax in his own skin. The rain and thunder were louder in the bathroom, but Andrew would rather deal with that then face the monster waiting for him on the other side of the locked door.

Rubbing his hands up and down his arms, Andrew pretended nothing outside his bathroom existed. Everything that made up the universe was the bathtub digging into his back, the toilet and the sink, the ugly brown carpets Cass insisted on getting. He was alone in this world, and that’s exactly how Andrew wanted it.

Andrew wished he at least brought a blanket, but after he was done clearing his plate of spaghetti after dinner, he went straight to the bathroom and locked the door before anyone could even follow him upstairs. He hadn’t thought to keep a blanket and pillow in here. It didn’t matter though; here, he was safe. Here, he was alone. Here, no one could hurt Andrew but himself.

In the universe he made up inside his head, the box Andrew had hidden underneath the sink didn’t exist, either. Neither did rain.

3.

Andrew couldn’t see the rain from his room in the detention center. He knew it was raining, though, the other boys – the ones that were allowed to go outside for a couple hours every day – wouldn’t shut up about it. That, and Andrew’s scars always ached when it rained.

The handcuffs were a little over the top, Andrew thought as two of the guards took him to the room where he’d be able to meet his twin brother for the first time. Aaron Minyard. His brother. His twin. Separated a few days after birth, one twin for foster care and the other to stay with Mommy Dearest.

Andrew had seen Aaron before, but he never got to meet him, not with their nosy uncle in the room. This time, no one would be in the room except for Andrew, Aaron, and the two guards stationed by the door that didn’t give a shit anyway.

Andrew was the first one in the room where he was supposed to meet Aaron. There was a table and two chairs seated across from each other. Only one chair was placed in front of the pair of handcuffs fastened to the metal table. Andrew took the hint and sat in that seat. One of the guards uncuffed him and told him to put his wrists in the ones on the table. Andrew complied and zoned out as he was cuffed back to the table. Now he just needed to wait with nothing but the dull patter of rain he could just hear outside to keep him company.

Aaron arrived a few minutes later, escorted by another guard. His shoulders were spattered with raindrops and his hair, the same color as Andrew’s, was plastered to his forehead. Andrew watched with interest as Aaron flinched away from the guard when he moved to quickly to close the door. His face was covered with bruises again, but they weren’t the same ones from last time. No, these ones were fresh and dark purple. Something that almost felt like anger stirred in Andrew’ s chest, the first thing he’d felt in a long time. Someone was hurting his brother and Andrew really didn’t appreciate it.

When Aaron was seated, he gave Andrew a shaky smile which Andrew didn’t return. He got straight to business. His voice even, leaving no room for argument, he said, “Who gave you those bruises?”

Aaron startled, his eyes widening and hands twisting nervously over the other. “What? Uh, no one. I tripped and fell on the curb.”

Andrew knew it was bullshit. Aaron was a terrible liar and that was the same excuse he used two weeks ago, the first time Andrew asked. He leveled a look at his brother, he would get information out of him one way or another. Aaron shifted underneath Andrew’s scrutinizing stare.

“Don’t lie to me,” Andrew warned. He didn’t like liars, hated that his brother was one of them. He wondered if Aaron could keep a promise better than he could lie and thought about making a deal with him when he was out of juvie.

“I’m not,” Aaron said, his voice barely above a whisper. Andrew wondered if Aaron knew that he was in here because of Aaron, that Aaron only had to give him a name and Andrew would make sure that whoever was hurting him would never be able to lay a hand on him again.

They didn’t talk about much else, that first meeting. Aaron tentatively broached topics while Andrew rebuffed him. After the hour was up, Aaron was escorted out of the room by one of the guards while the other let Andrew out of his handcuffs. Aaron looked back one more time as the guard led him out to the rain, but Andrew didn’t bother returning it.

Andrew had a plan. He had a reason to leave this facility and reunite with his brother. He was going to make sure no one ever touched Aaron ever again. As Andrew was led back to his room, the storm inside his chest raged.

4.

The living room was dark and cold by the time Andrew made his way downstairs. Aaron was in his room, either sleeping soundly in his bed or working studiously at his desk. Nicky wouldn’t be back from his shift at Eden’s Twilight for a couple more hours. Andrew was alone in the living room.

It was raining again. It rained a lot more in South Carolina than it did in California, Andrew noted irately. Right now, the storm outside was shaking the window panes with the force of the wind and rain. Every couple minutes, lightning struck and thunder soon followed. Andrew just wanted some peace and quiet.

The bruises on his knuckles had long since faded. Weeks after the attack, Nicky’s face and ribs were pretty much healed. As soon as he was out of the hospital, he was back working the night shift at Eden’s. They couldn’t afford for him to miss anymore shifts, not after a week staying in the hospital. Even if Erik did take care of the medical bills, the water and heating still needed to be paid for. Andrew and Aaron’s jobs as dishwashers at Eden’s just weren’t enough to cover it.

Andrew didn’t regret beating up those bastards outside the club. He didn’t care that he nearly killed the four of them when he was smashing their faces into the concrete and he didn’t care now. They deserved it. Brought it upon themselves, really, when they thought they could touch his cousin. He would do it again if he needed to, even if next time it landed him in jail.

He got off easy, this time. Andrew wasn’t grateful he was ordered to be put through intense therapy and medication for his violence instead of going straight to prison, but he could admit that it would have been hard to protect his family behind bars.

He hated the drugs, though. Hated the constant high it forced him to be on, hated how he was never in control, never able to relax, to think, breathe. The drugs were supposed to soothe his violent tendencies, make Andrew safe to be around, but all they did was smother him, strip him of everything and put a smile on his face. Happy pills, Nicky had called them. But Nicky was wrong, the pills didn’t make Andrew happy, it made him feel empty and carved out inside. But that wasn’t the pills, was it?

When he was sleeping was the only time Andrew was allowed to be off of his medication. With them, sleep was impossible. Without them, he was a danger to society. Night time was the only time Andrew was able to find some quiet away from the constant buzzing in his skull brought about by his medication. Night time, once Andrew’s waking nightmare, was now his only solace.

But his quiet was ruined by the storm outside. He wasn’t mad, that the drip, drip, drip of rain against the windows was interrupting the only time Andrew had to himself. He didn’t feel much of anything. He simply acknowledged the rain and the fact that it displeased him. That was it. Andrew wasn’t sure he was capable of more. He didn’t really care.

Drip, drip, drip went the rain while Andrew stared at the wall and felt nothing.

5.

Neil Josten was a nuisance. He really couldn’t stay out of people’s business, could he?

Andrew stared out the window at all the planes waiting outside and the sheets of rain coming down from the darkened sky, wishing Neil had a mute button. He didn’t want to listen to Neil’s statistic about how many people died in a place crash every year, and Andrew was sure that percentage was raised when an airplane flew through a storm like the one outside.

“What was his name?” Andrew asked, just to shut Neil up. When Neil frowned, obviously not following Andrew’s line of thought, Andrew added, “Your father. What was his name?”

Neil’s expression shuddered and for a second Andrew thought he would have a panic attack right there in the middle of the airport. He had to answer though, it was Andrew’s turn in the game. Andrew watched the line of Neil’s throat out of the corner of his eye as he swallowed his anxiety.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was listening, Neil leaned in close and said at last, “Nathan. His name was Nathan.”

“You don’t look like a Nathan,” Andrew said, taking in the shock of auburn hair, the blue eyes the color of a summer sky, and the black number 4 on his left cheek bone.

“I’m not,” Neil said quietly, his voice strained. “I’m Nathaniel.”

Andrew flicked his gaze around his face, more just to look then to search for Nathaniel in Neil’s features. The admission had obviously spooked him, evident from the twitchiness in his hands and the quick glances he kept making toward all the exits. It didn’t take long for Andrew to get bored and look back out the window.

The rain wasn’t getting any lighter. Andrew wondered if their plane would crash in this weather, he wondered if he would survive it. He wondered if he wanted to. Andrew decided it was at least worth it to stick around a bit longer, if only to see what else Neil came up with. And he promised his brother he would see through to graduation to protect him, even if Aaron never kept up his end of the bargain.

Thinking of his deal with Aaron and Aaron’s tendency to sneak around with that cheerleader like Andrew didn’t know put a bitter taste in his mouth. Fuck Kevin and fuck Exy, Andrew thought as he pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket. He took a few bites, breaking off pieces with his fingers to make them smaller and easier to eat, before Wymack called them to board the plane.

Andrew followed his teammates onto the plane, keeping his face blank and bored as the rain attacked them from all sides of the boarding tunnel. A rumble of thunder almost made Andrew pause, but he could feel Neil’s annoyingly keen gaze on the side of his face so he kept his feet moving.

Andrew hated the rain, hated airplanes, and hated feeling like he’s being turned inside out, all his thought and secrets strewn out across the table to be examined. He hated Neil Josten.

+1

Raindrops pattered against the dorm room window, the drops falling gently against the glass and sliding off to pool on the windowsill. Andrew watched the pattern of light play across the face of the man lying beside him, the abstract shadows from the scars and the freckles made visible across his nose. Neil was awake, but his eyes were still closed, savoring the last few moments of sleep before he got up for his morning run.

Andrew dragged his eyes from the whorl of burn scars on Neil’s cheek to the mess of auburn curls scattered across the white pillow he had stolen from Andrew. Deciding he couldn’t stand not touching Neil anymore, Andrew ran his fingers through his sleep-rumpled hair, prompting Neil to blink open his eyes and let Andrew finally get a peak of his blue, blue eyes.

A slow smile spread across Neil’s face. Andrew had never gotten over the way Neil always seemed to brighten when he saw Andrew, not even after three years. Andrew wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to it, or if he even wanted to. He couldn’t bring himself to hate it.

“Morning,” Neil mumbled, stifling a yawn with the pillow tucked under his cheek.

“Staring,” Andrew replied instead of returning a greeting. Neil hummed and rubbed the last of the drowsiness from his eyes.

When Neil started to get up to pull on a shirt and his running shoes, Andrew wrapped light fingers around his wrist and pulled him back. Neil laughed as he stumbled, falling over Andrew. Andrew didn’t mind the close proximately, not when it was so warm, not when it was Neil.

“I need to go on my run,” Neil said, not bothering to stifle his grin.

“It’s Saturday. No practice or classes,” Andrew grunted. Andrew Minyard didn’t pout, he was just cold and didn’t want Neil to take all of his warmth out the door with him. That was it.

“I still go on a run on Saturday mornings, too,” Neil reasoned, making a move to get back up.

Andrew grabbed the strings of his sweatpants to stop him this time. “It’s raining, Neil. If you go out now, you’ll catch a cold and then I’ll have to listen to you bitch about not being able to go to practice. It’d be better for us all if you just stayed inside today.”

Neil had the audacity to look confused. “The rain’s never stopped me before.”

Andrew sighed. He really had to spell it out for him, didn’t he? He gave a sharp tug on the string of Neil’s sweatpants and waited for the realization to dawn on his face. Finally, he got it and returned to Andrew’s side on the bed.

Andrew traced Neil’s face with his fingers, grateful for the heat Neil provided. They were practically pressed against each other, they had to be when the mattress of the twin bed was so small. Not that either one of them complained.

“If you wanted a lazy day in bed you should have just said so,” Neil teased, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew replied, leaning in to place slow kisses to Neil’s lips.

Maybe the rain wasn’t so bad today, after all.

[troublemakerfiction]

35. Pt. 1

Imani

“Imani, I need to see you when everybody leaves.” Dr. Anderson said as everybody was packing up to leave class.

“Okay,” I nodded even though I was confused.I was one of the best students in this class so I don’t even know what she needed to talk to me about.

I walked to the front of the class waiting for everybody to leave so I could find out what was going on. Walking past me Malcolm bumped my shoulder then glared at me.

Apparently this nigga is still salty about Kason beating his ass and he’s been acting like an asshole since it happened. I understand being mad but this nigga was really trying my damn patience.

“What’s going on Dr. Anderson?” I asked once everybody was out. Dr. Anderson who was a very attractive older black woman took her glasses off then sighed.

“I don’t like beating around the bush and I’m actually very pissed about this so I’m going to be honest with you. Have you ever heard of Aaron Bradford?”

“Uh yeah, he’s like the most decorated surgeon to come out of this school.”

“Exactly and he donates a lot of money into this school and this program. He’s also related to one of your classmates.” She said.

“Wait you said Bradford right?” I asked just to be sure. The only Bradford I know is Malcolm Bradford, the fuck does his people mean to me?

“Yes,” she gave me a sympathetic look.

“Okay, um…what does he have to do with me?”

“Well they wanted me to say that something went wrong with your admission but the truth is Aaron Bradford made some calls and you can’t come back here.”

“Wait what?” I had to be hearing her wrong because I know she didn’t just say I was kicked out.

“You cannot come back to this medical school; actually he’s been making phone calls to every major medical school in the state. Nobody will admit you, I don’t know how you got on his bad side but it’s not a good place to be if you want to make it in this field.”

“I don’t understand how he can just get me kicked out. I’m a straight A student, I’ve been working my ass off! I sacrificed my fuckin’ relationship for this shit and they’re just going to put me out. Finals are next week!”

“There’s nothing I can do about it Imani.”

“What about my tuition, my dad paid a lot of money to this damn school.”

“I know and I was told to give you this,” She grabbed an envelope out of her bag then handed it to me. I opened it to see a refund check for my tuition. I had to grab the table to keep myself out because I felt like the wind was just knocked out of me. I was really kicked out, what the fuck?

“Are you okay?�� She grabbed my arm helping me keep balance. “I’m sorry Imani; you’re one of my best students. I wish there was something I could do.”

Not even bothering to say anything I walked out the classroom and straight outside so I could get to my car. Just as I was unlocking my door I heard laughing from behind me so I turned around.

“Had a good meeting?” Malcolm smirked at me.

“You think this shit is funny? Your pussy ass got me kicked out of school!” I shouted at him; he was lucky I wasn’t breaking his fucking neck right now.

“Aye this isn’t my fault; blame your man for being out of control.”

“Out of control my ass, you’re just mad your pretty ass got beat the fuck up. I had nothing to do with what happened to you and you know it so why are you even going this far?”

“Because I can,” he shrugged. “You know I can easily get my grandfather to fix this if you cooperate,”

“Excuse me?” I looked at him as if he was stupid, “What the fuck do you mean by cooperate?”

“You know exactly what that means,” he grabbed my hand but I snatched it away from him.

“Kiss my ass Malcolm; I’m not fucking you to get back in school.”

“Fine, stay kicked out then it really means nothing to me. It is what it is and there aint shit you can do about it.” With that he smiled at me then walked off.

I got in my car then pulled my phone from my purse. “I can’t do shit but I know who can.” I went down my call log then hit the number I was looking for. Putting it to my ear I heard it ring twice before it finally got answered. “Daddy,”

***

“How the fuck can he kick you out of school like that?” Haze questioned with an angry look on his face. We were in my dad’s living room along with Kason talking about the bitch shit Malcolm pulled on me.

“He’s a major donator or some shit like that, I don’t know exactly but he did it.”

“That’s fucked up; you would think ole boy would know not to try you.” Kason said and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Kason shut up, you’re the reason I’m even in this mess.” I snapped at him.

“Man I told you what the nigga said,”

“Alright but it wasn’t worth me getting kicked out of school. I always tell you to keep your damn temper in check but no Kason just has to do whatever the hell he wants. Now I’m out on my ass because of that bullshit!”

“You can be mad all you want to but calm the fuck down. Yelling at me aint getting your ass back in so quit with that shit. I apologized to you for that shit a long time ago, the fuck else you want me to do?”

“Nothing, you can’t do a damn thing.”

“Alright alright, shut the hell up.” My dad said when he came walking in the living room. “Look I made some calls and that lady was right. That Bradford has a lot of pull in the medical field; more than I have. That nigga is a heavy hitter.”

‘So now what? I’m supposed to just say forget being a surgeon?”

“No because there are how many medical schools in this damn country? You can pick one and go to any of them but it’s up to you if you want to do that. Now if you don’t want to leave then don’t but you’re going to have to figure out another career plan.” My dad told me.

“I’ll think about it, besides that though what about the Bradford’s? They get to get away with screwing me over?”

“You know I can handle that a couple of different ways,” Haze said. “Just let me know what you want me to do,”

“I don’t think getting rid of them are necessary, it’s not that deep.” I was pissed off but they didn’t have to die for that shit, it’s not that serious. “They do need their asses checked though,”

A smile crossed Haze’s face as he pulled his phone out. “I got an idea. You don’t want that nigga dead fine, he can live. When I’m done with his ass he’s going to wish his ass was dead though.”

“Don’t touch that man Haze, she just said it aint that serious.” Dad told him.

“I’m not about to touch that nigga, I am about to fuck his name and pockets up though. Give me a few hours and that niggas whole world is about to come crumbling down.”

I looked at Haze trying to figure out what his crazy ass was up to. As long as it’s nothing that will get anybody in trouble then I’m cool with it. I hope he fucks Malcolm’s life up.

After talking to my brother and father a little while longer Kason and I left and went back to my apartment. He hasn’t moved back in and he wasn’t going to but he was allowed to stay a few nights out of the week.

“You alright?” Kason asked after getting on my bed and lying next to me.

“No I’m pissed off. All of my hard work flushed down the toilet because he can’t handle getting beat up, then he waited to do it. A whole year’s worth of school down the drain. I don’t even know what I’m going to do now.”

“What do you wanna Imani? As a career what do you want to do for the rest of your life?”

“I wanna help children. That was the main reason I wanted to go to medical school in the first place.”

“You can still do that, like your pops said if we have to move to make that happen then so be it. If you don’t want to move there are more options.”

“Like what?”

“Your degree is in psychology, do something with it.” I nodded not even bothering to say anything else. What he was saying wasn’t a bad idea at all but I wasn’t trying to hear that shit. I wanted to be a surgeon and that bitch boy Malcolm just fucked it up for me.

***

“Girl you can do something else, it’s more than one way to help kids.” NuNu told me while I drove. We had just come from getting something to eat and now we were on our way to get our hair done. I made today my personal pamper day because all the drama with school was stressing me the hell out.

“I understand that but this is what I wanted and now that bitch of a nigga stepped in my way.”

“He’s going to get his, Karma is a big bitch and it will hit ass soon, trust me.”

“Well I need for Karma to hurry up because I need this to get done now.” I joked making us both laugh.

“Yo what the fuck?” NuNu said we pulled up to a red light.

“What?” I looked at her confused.

“Are those little bitches jumping somebody on the corner?” She pointed across the street and sure enough it was a group of girls looking as if they were all fighting the same person.

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Hell nah, park this car. I hate little punk ass girls like that.” I parked my car then we both got and went across the street. NuNu started grabbing them girls and pushing them while I took the civilized approach and separated them.

“Little bitch I dare you to hit me, I’m not her I’ll fuck you up.” NuNu threatened one of the girls that was involved when she looked as if she was about to swing.

“It’s cool; we’ll see you tomorrow you broke bitch!” The girl laughed then she and her friends ran off.

I looked at the girl on the ground. She was balled into a fetal position shaking like a leaf, she looked petrified and my heart instantly broke for her. The girl was wearing a navy blue polo shirt and khaki’s which told me they were still in grammar school so she couldn’t be older than 13 years old.

Squatting down I moved her hand from her face so she could see we weren’t there to hurt her. “You’re okay now, come on get up.” I grabbed her arm noticing she had multiple scars going up her forearm. Shaking it off I pulled her up off the floor.

“Oh hell no, which way did those little bitches go.” NuNu shouted when we got a look at the girls face. Her lip was busted, and even though she had a milk chocolate complexion her black eye was more than evident. Her clothes were dirty and obviously too small for her and her sneakers were run down. I wanted to believe the girls’ jumping her was the reason her clothes looked like that but something was telling me that wasn’t it.

“Can you help me get her cleaned up before you try to fuck somebody’s child up,” I said to NuNu. “Get some napkins out the store Rambo,”

She sucked her teeth but went to get some. I looked at the little girl and shook my head, I felt so bad for her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“They jumped me,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m fine; I’m used to it anyway.”

“This happens a lot?”

Instead of answering she just shrugged her shoulders again. “Listen I don’t know why those girls were on you like that but you can’t just lie back and let somebody beat on you like that.”

“I’m one person,”

“That’s no excuse; people only do what you allow.” NuNu came back out with some napkins and a bottle of water. “Maybe your mother can switch schools or something,”

“Oh please,” she mumbled.

“What’s your name?” I wet some of the napkins then gave it to her so she could wipe the blood from her face.

“Ayanna,” She answered.

“How old are you?”

“13,”

“Okay well Ayanna, you need to talk to somebody about this because this isn’t right. If you don’t wanna talk to your mother I can do it for you.”

“No!” She shouted immediately then looked down at the ground before looking back up at me. “I don’t need you to talk to my mother, I’m fine.”

“Okay well where do you live I can drop you off.”

“That’s okay I’m fine,”

“You were just getting jumped by five girls how are you fine?” NuNu questioned. “We’re taking you home so you might as well get your little ass in the car and come on.” She walked over to the car and got in the front seat leaving me and Ayanna standing there.

“She’s rude but she’s right, I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here like this. So you can either let me drop you off or we can call your mom to come get you. Either way I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Okay,” she walked over to the car and got in the backseat. When I got in she told me her address and I pulled off. When we pulled up in front of the address she gave me there was a woman sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette. I looked back at Ayanna and the fear was written all over her face. If I didn’t know that look so well I would’ve been confused about what was wrong with her.

“You alright?” I asked her and she nodded. I told NuNu’s rude ass to stay in the car then me and Ayanna got out. The woman on the steps looked at me confused as we walked up to the steps.

“Who the fuck is you?” The woman spat at me. “Ayanna get your ass over here,” she ordered and Ayanna rushed over to her.

“My name is Imani, me and my friend was driving and we saw her getting jumped by a group of girls so we broke it up. I didn’t feel right letting her be by herself so I brought her home.” I told her.

“Got your ass beat again,” the woman said before laughing then looked at me. “You didn’t need to break it up; I tell her all the time she gotta learn how to defend herself.”

“I’m sorry, are you her mother?” I asked if she said yes I was going to go off. I tell you she was jumped and your response is to laugh? Not only that this bitch was dressed like she was about to go on a date. Hair, clothes, nails and everything else was done but this little girl is walking around looking as if nobody loves her. What the fuck?

“Please does it look like I would give birth to that?” she said, laughing again then went up the stairs. She opened the door then looked at Ayanna, “Brings your black ass on, got people out here in my business.” She told her then went in the house.

I looked at Ayanna and I could tell her feelings were hurt. “I told you I was fine,” Ayanna said to me.

“You’re not fine,” I grabbed her arm looking at the scars I noticed earlier. “This doesn’t look like you’re fine to me. Neither does that eye,”

She snatched her arm away from me then looked down again. “I was jumped remember,”

“You were but that bruise on your face is not from today.” I lifted her face up then shook my head and sighed. “Listen, I don’t know who that woman is to you but it’s clear she doesn’t have your best interest at heart.”

“She’s my aunt; she’s all I have.”

“She doesn’t have to be,”

“What am I supposed to do? Tell somebody then get put in the system where it’s 10 times worse? This is my life lady; don’t pretend to care because I know you don’t.”

“How would you know that?”

“Why would you? I don’t need a rich girl like you feeling bad for me. You’re probably going to leave and laugh about everything I’m going through. You don’t know me so don’t act like you do.”

“I don’t have to know you, I was you!” I snapped at her then stopped and took a deep breath to calm myself down. “Ayanna I know you don’t know me and you have no reason to believe anything that comes out of my mouth but I know what you’re going through. I was in your place once, living with somebody that basically hates you except it was my own mother I was getting abused by. I know the life you’re living and I know that if you don’t get help you won’t be living period.”

Ayanna shook her head as tears went down her face. “Who’s going to help me? My mother is dead, nobody else wanted me she’s all I have.”

“Like I said before she doesn’t have to be.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing, I’ll do it I just need to know that you trust me.”

She looked at me as if she didn’t know what to do and I completely understood where she was coming from. Her aunt may hate and hurt her but it’s a pain she’s familiar with, and foster care can be hell for certain kids so I understand why she’s fearful.

“I-I don’t wanna go into foster care.”

“You won’t; will you trust me?”

She looked at the house then back towards me. “I’ll trust you. Just please don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t I promise you. Stay right here,” I went up the stairs then knocked on the door. When the woman opened it she sucked her teeth.

“Are you still here? Damn, the fuck you want?”

“I wanted to tell you that I work for the department of children and family services.” I said and her whole face went damn near white.

“I um…umm I-“She stuttered.

“You can stop planning the lie you’re about to tell. The abuse and neglect of that little girl is more than clear so I can either call the police or you can let her go right now and forget she exists.”

“I can-“

“You can’t or you won’t? Listen to me, that girl is standing there with a black eye, a busted lip and dirty clothes that she can’t even fit yet here you are dressed like you’re living high and mighty. Do you really want me to get the police involved?”

She looked down at Ayanna then back at me. “Fine take her; just don’t call the police on me.”

I smiled a little bit then went back downstairs. “Come on, get in the car.”

“Where am I going?” Ayanna asked looking at me confused.

“Somewhere safe.”  We went over to my car and hopped in. “Don’t ask I already know you were listening.” I said to NuNu without even looking at her. The window was cracked so I know she was eavesdropping.

“You know me so well.” She chuckled. “So I guess we’re not making it to the hair salon huh?”

“Nah not today,” I pulled my phone out and sent Shante a text briefly filling her in. “Ayanna are you hungry?”

“Yes,” she answered back.

“Alright we’ll get something for you to eat then we’ll head to where you’re staying.” I told her before I pulled off.

I stopped by a drive thru and picked her up something to eat before heading to my parent’s house.

When we pulled up I looked in the rear view mirror at Ayanna’s face and her mouth was almost at the floor. I couldn’t help but laugh, I know my dad’s house was huge.

“Whose house is this?”

“My parents come on.” We all got out of the car and I let us all in the house with my key. “NuNu take her to the living room.”

NuNu took her and I went upstairs to find Shante and my dad. I looked in all the rooms and found them in one of the guest bedrooms. My dad was on the bed watching Shante fold up clothes and walk back and forth from the closet.  I know the door frame getting their attention.

“You work fast,” I told Shante looking at the bags on the bed.

“I know, I’m a pro at shopping. It’s a gift.” She laughed.

“What happened Imani who is this little girl?” My dad asked me.

“Long story short, we saw her getting beat up I took her home and her aunt was like my mother in another body. The way she talked to her, the way she didn’t even give a damn about the fact that she was beat up. She has scars on her arm so she’s taking whatever she’s going through out on herself. I wouldn’t have felt right seeing all that and just leaving her there. She’s 13, her name is Ayanna; dad she reminds me of myself so much it’s kind of scary.”

“Well I’ve talked to my lawyer already and he’s going to work on her staying here with us. She better not be any trouble, I don’t have time for that shit.” He said.

“Nasir shut up,” Shante waved him off. I know she was happy about this because Shante loves kids. Had it been up to her she and my dad would’ve had a house full but after Haze she found out having more children would be damn near impossible for her.

“I’m just saying,” He shrugged.

“I’m just glad y’all are open to letting her stay I know it’s really out the blue.”

“It is but she’s a child and just like you won’t turn your back we’re not going to either.” My dad said. “Let’s go meet her,”

We went downstairs to the living room where NuNu had Ayanna laughing extra hard. I don’t know at what but she found the shit funny.

“Ayanna,” I called her name getting both of their attention. “This is my dad Nasir, and my step mother Shante. Y’all this is Ayanna,”

“It’s nice to meet you love,” My dad said to her and Shante nodded with a smile on her face.

“Hi,” Ayanna said back in a shy tone.

“You’re going to be staying here while we figure everything out because there is no way I’m letting you go back to that witch you were just with.”

“Really? I’m going to live here, in a mansion? Are you serious?” She jumped up in excitement.

“Yes you can stay as long as you act like you can stay as long as you need to. She told me you were small I went and picked up some things for you, they should fit you perfectly. You can come with me I’ll show you to the room.” Ayanna left the room with Shante and I plopped down on the couch.

“I’m going to go back to the house when I get to the city and get all of her important paperwork so y’all won’t have a problem getting her in school.” I told my dad. “I’ll bring it to you guys tomorrow.”

“How do you know the aunt won’t be an issue?”

“Dad I told her I was child services and she almost shitted on herself. She knows she wasn’t treating that girl right, she’ll give me what I want.”

“Well as long as you’re sure I’m good. You’re staying for dinner? Shante took them damn ribs and shit out when she got that text so you know she’s about to go in.”

“We’re staying,” NuNu said before I could even answer making us laugh.

“I already knew your greedy ass was going to say that.” He told her before leaving the room.

“I told you, you didn’t need to be a surgeon to help kids.” NuNu said after we sat there in silence for a minute.

With a confused expression on my face I turned and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

“You just turned that girl’s life around in a matter of hours.”

“That’s only because I could tell she was being neglected.”

“Exactly, if you can see that in her you can see that in other children too.”

“What are you getting at NuNu? I can’t move every abused child into my parents’ house.”

“No but you can help girls like her. You can talk to them, counsel them, make them see that being abused is not their fault and it’s not something they should keep quiet. Bitch you have a degree in psychology, us that shit.”

Chuckling I shook my head then nodded. “Kason was telling me the same thing.”

“My nigga, see I knew I liked him for a reason. He’s smart.” She laughed. “Nah for real though I think you should look into counseling young kids.”    

“That’s a really good idea.”

With everything I’ve been through, helping kids in similar situations really seemed like the right thing to do. No it’s not being a surgeon but it’s still a way for me to help kids and save lives. Malcolm’s bitchassness might’ve just worked in my favor.

“Turn on the news,” Shante said when she came rushing in the living room.

“Why what’s wrong with you and where is Ayanna?”

“In the shower, Haze just called me, turn the TV on and go to channel 5.” I grabbed the remote off the coffee table then turned the TV on. When I got to channel 5 there was a breaking news report.

“After an anonymous tip award winning surgeon Aaron Bradford’s Saddle River, New Jersey home was raided by the FBI. After confiscating computers and other electronic equipment investigators found what is reported to be an enormous amount of child pornography.” The reporter on the news said and my mouth dropped.

“Oh shit, that nigga is a pervert!” NuNu shouted.

“According to investigators there are some videos of Aaron Bradford himself on tape having sexual relations with underage girls, some as young as 12 years old.”

“Wow,” I pulled my phone out of my purse and called Haze who picked up on the second ring.

“Yo,”

“How the hell did you find that out?”

“I may not have as much pull as that nigga but I know a lot of people.” He said before laughing.

“You called the police?”

“Hell no, fuck I look like talking to the pigs. I had somebody else do it, I just provided the information.”

“You really came through Haze, thank you.”

“I told you I got you, don’t even thank me. Tell NuNu to bring that ass home though, fuck is y’all doing?”

“I drove her here and Shante is about to cook so you know her fat ass aint leaving.”

“Ma cooking? Aww shit, I’m on my way.”

“Alright,” I laughed. “I’ll see you when you get here,” I ended the call then sat back against the couch. “Their whole family is about to be a joke,”

“Good, I can’t believe that shit. Nasty ass, they’re going to tear that ass up in prison just watch.” Shante said.

“I’m going to check on Ayanna,” I got up and went upstairs to the bedroom. I knocked on the door and waited. When she said come in I opened the door then walked in. “How are you doing up here?” I asked closing the door behind me.

“Good,” she smiled. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” I sat on the chair that was in the room then looked at her. “So you can fit the clothes good.”

“Yeah she got the right size, how did she know?”

“Shante is just like that.” I shrugged.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,”

“What made you wanna help me? My teachers don’t even do anything when I go to school looking the way I did.”

“I was in your position before, I was taken care of as far as clothes and things because of my dad but my mother was a monster. She would beat me, and just talk to me like I wasn’t shit. When I heard your aunt talking to you crazy it made me think about my own past. My dad took me out of that situation when he found out, and I’m grateful for that. I would’ve felt like shit if I didn’t try to step in and help you.”

“I don’t know why she hates me,”

“She has her own issues; anybody that can treat a child the way she did you has mental problems. You can’t let her problems become yours though. How long have you been cutting yourself?”

“How did you-“

“My scars used to look like that before they healed completely.” I cut her off and said.

“I just started doing it six months ago. Now that I think about it it’s stupid but at the time it made me feel better.”

“It’s a pain you can control, I know what you mean.” I stood up and went over to her. “You’re here now and my parents are going to make sure you’re good. They’re good people so you don’t have to be afraid of them.”

“Okay,”

“What happened to your mom? How did you end up with that evil bitch anyway?”

“She died last year,”

“How? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.”

“its fine, umm her boyfriend killed her while I was right there then he killed himself.”

“Are you serious? Damn, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

She nodded then wiped her eyes that were filling up with tears. “Is that another reason you cut?” She nodded again. I pulled her in for a hug and let her cry as much as she needed to on shoulder. I don’t know what she was feeling but I know it’s not easy.

When she finally started to calm down she went and washed her face. While she was in there I thought about what I could do to help her. The abuse from her aunt I could help her deal with because I knew what that felt like but the pain she feels about her mother’s death is something different. I couldn’t really do too much for her when it comes to that but I knew who could.

Millz

“Hi pretty,” I said as I walked into my living room. Imani was sitting on the couch with a little girl I assumed to be Ayanna. About a week ago Imani called me telling me about a girl she ended up helping, after giving me all the details about that sick ass Bradford.

His perverted ass tried to fuck up my cousin’s future and got his own life fucked up; shit has a really funny way of working out. If he didn’t get Imani kicked out, she would’ve been in school at the time that girl got into the fight that NuNu spotted. Now Ayanna is in a safe and stable place and that pedophile is off the street.

“Damn you look swollen,” Imani said when I sat down.

“Shut your ass up; you’re supposed to say something nice. Rude ass,” I laughed, I knew she meant it in a joking way so I wasn’t going to bite her head off.

“That was nice but let me introduce y’all. This Ayanna, Ayanna this is my cousin Millz.”

“Hi,” she smiled showing off the prettiest set of dimples then turned her eyes to the floor. I couldn’t help but smile back at her, she’s beautiful.

“I wanted her to talk to you because you’ve went through similar things, but she can talk for herself so I’ll leave y’all alone. Are you okay with me leaving?” Imani asked her and she nodded without looking up. “Okay, I’m going upstairs to see the rugrats.” She got up and left the room going upstairs.

We sat there for a few seconds in silence before I decided to speak. “So what has Imani told you about me so far?” I asked, I needed to know where I had to start.

“She said that you saw your dad get killed when you were younger,” Ayanna answered me.

“Okay that’s true, you have any questions?”

“Ho-how did it happen?”

“Somebody was trying to rob him, and he wasn’t willing to give up his money or me so they killed him then killed my uncle too. I still have nightmares about it sometimes; it’s not an image you can escape.”

“I know what you mean,” she mumbled.

“What happened to your mother?”

She looked up at me with a sad look on her face. “Her boyfriend killed her.”

“Have you told anybody what you saw exactly?” I questioned.

“Besides the cops, no.” she shook her head then looked at the floor again.

“Well I think that’s something you should try to do. I know thinking about it is hard but holding it in feels even worse. It can start to eat away at you and that’s when problems start to form. So far what happened to you has taken away your self-esteem.”

When I said that she looked up at me confused. “Huh?”

“My dad always said anybody that can’t look you in the eye when they’re talking to you or vice versa that means they’re not sure of themselves. You keep looking at the floor like my face is down there and I’m talking to you.” Honestly her keeping her eyes on the floor as I’m talking to her was getting on my nerves.

She’s a shy girl and she’s timid as hell but I can’t stand when somebody has their eyes planted to the floor. That shows a weakness and I don’t play that shit. I feel for this girl, she’s been through a lot but I’m not about to coddle her, knowing Shante the way I do she’s probably doing that enough.

“When somebody is talking to you, you look at them. You’re not looking me in my face tells me you don’t’ give a damn about what I’m saying and I don’t play that game with kids. So keep your eyes at me; I know you’ve been through a lot but keep your held high don’t ever bow down to the bullshit you’ve been through. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she nodded keeping her eyes on me.

“Okay,” I gave her a smile. “Tell me about your mother? Who was this boyfriend?”

“I don’t know she was just a mom,” she shrugged her shoulders. “A really good one, she cooked for us,”

“Us? You have siblings?”

“Amir, he w-was my brother.”

“Was?”

“He died,”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She nodded wiping her eyes. “But yeah she was a good mom; everything was okay until she met Manolo.”

“Wait, who?” I asked. I know she didn’t just say Manolo, that’s a not a common name so what the fuck?

“Manolo,”

“Was he kind of light, tall? Big ass head?” I described Manolo the best way I could from the pictures I’ve seen of him,

“Yeah, you know him?”

“I know of him. How did your mother know him?”

“She met him in New York and he started coming around a whole lot. My brother didn’t like him, and he didn’t like my brother either. He was nice to me most times, he would buy me stuff to get on her good side and it worked. I thought he was a good guy until he started hitting on her.”

“How bad was it?”

“Um, he broke her nose because he pistol whipped her.” I grabbed some tissue from the box on the coffee table then gave it to her so she could wipe her eyes. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,”

“He would beat her all the time, if my brother tried to get into it they would fight and my mom would try to break it up but he would just beat her worse.”

“Wow,” I shook my head thanking God he was no longer breathing. Ole pussy ass niggas like that doesn’t deserve to live.

“We would beg her to leave him alone but he kept coming back and she would let him back in.”

“What happened the day she was murdered?”

“They were arguing and he started hitting her. My brother said he couldn’t take it anymore and went to try and fight Manolo. I begged him not too but he wouldn’t listen he did it anyway. Usually he would get the best of Amir but I don’t know what happened but Amir was beating him up. I guess he was really at his breaking point because he was winning the fight. Out of nowhere Manolo pulled his gun out,” she stopped and just stared off into space.

Getting up I moved over and sat right next to her putting my arm over her shoulders. “He sh-shot him, he shot my brother because he was winning a fight,” she shook her head chuckling. “My mother screamed and tried to fight him but he just shot her too. He put the gun back in his pants then walked past me and out the house like it was nothing,” she said before she started crying. Small sniffles turned into sobs within seconds. I put her head on my lap and rubbed her back while she cried her eyes out. I wasn’t going to tell her to stop or try to calm her down.

She watched two of what was probably the closest family to her get murdered in cold blood then got sent to live with an aunt who didn’t give a fuck about her. Something tells me she hasn’t had the proper time to grieve or even let out what she was really feeling, she needed this cry and I was going to let her have it.

Ayanna cried on my lap for almost 45 minutes before she finally began to calm down. Once she was all good she sat up and I gave her a much needed hug.

“Do you feel any better?” I asked her.

“Yes, and that sounds weird; why would crying make me feel better?”

“Sometimes people need to have a good cry. Life isn’t easy and you’ve been through a lot so far in your life. You needed to let that pain out. It’s still going to get you down sometimes but you just need to release it. Holding it in isn’t good for anybody, trust me I know.”

“How do you forget what you saw though?”

“You don’t, that’s the fucked up thing about it. You will never forget seeing the people you love being murdered. What you can do is deal with the hurt from it and try move forward; if you dwell on it will haunt you and loom over your life like a black cloud.”

She nodded her head then smiled a little bit. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re a lot alike so I’m talking to you so don’t end up with a bitchy attitude like me,” I winked at her before laughing.

I got up off the couch then looked at her. “I’m about to go sneak a cookie, come keep lookout.” I said with her walking out right behind me.

[jemej3m]

in confidence i confide

i do understand this isn’t how therapy works :)

basic summary: neil needs help and andrew gets paid to help. it works out, somehow. 

Neil was uncomfortable with how startingly different it all seemed. There were no sticky leather ottomans across from a black leather couch, or bookshelves covered in intimidating titles, or walls covered in certificates of achievements. The room was rather small, and Neil sat in a very soft velvet chair. A wooden coffee table sat in front of him. The man was on the other side of the room at the small kettle, making two mugs of something or rather: Neil smelled Earl Grey. He wasn’t fussed about that, so he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to drink it regardless.

The lighting of the room: That was different too. All offices of psychologists, psychiatrists, therapists and counsellors alike seemed to have a stark, bright white lighting. This room was lit by a lamp in the corner, and the cracks of daylight that seeped through the gaps in the curtain that covered the floor-to-ceiling window.

The psychologist must have seen him glance at the curtains. “I usually keep them shut, but some patients prefer them open. Depends on what they want from me, usually.”

Neil had nothing to say.

Andrew Minyard looked at him, one mug in each hand, huffed out a small sigh, and paced back towards the small, matching velvet couch perpendicular to Neil’s chair. He settled down the tea in front of Neil and sat himself against the armrest of the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in his hand. “Curtains shut, then.” He took a sip. “Feel free to open them whenever you like.”

Neil wanted this session to be over.

“In case you were wondering,” He put down his mug. “I’d prefer if you called me Andrew, rather than doctor, or Dr Minyard. We both already know you’re here for my medical qualifications: We don’t need the reminder every time you say my name.”

“What are your qualifications?”

“It speaks.” Andrew tilted his head to the side. Neil felt like copying, just to mock him—so he did. Andrew rose up a single eyebrow in amusement: Neil saw the twitch of the corner of his lips. “I have an undergraduate degree in criminology, and a post-grad in medicinal science. I continued on to study psychology and I have a PhD in criminal psychology. I’ve been in the field for five years.”

“Five.” Neil echoed. “How old are you?”

“29.” Andrew laced his fingers together. One year older than Neil. “I accelerated through many of the courses and stacked the necessary hours for certain qualifications on top of one another. I completed my PhD last year. Star pupil.”

Neil hummed.

“Do you feel, in light of my accomplishments, that you have to share yours?”

Neil looked up.

“Because I’d like to keep this space completely honest and open from the get-go: I already know who you are, and incidentally already know more than you want me to. Seems a little unfair to me.”

“Through Exy or through my father?” Neil’s plight was open to the entire public: Ten years ago he’d fought and won, and these scars were proof. Now he’d gone to the Olympics once—they’d lost to Germany, but they would be heading back this time next year. “Nevermind. Criminal psychologist.”

“It’d be hard not to know you from Exy,” Andrew corrected him. “But yes. Its your past that interests me more. I’m no policeman, or agent. I’m not here to drill and extract. This is your hour to talk about whatever you want, and to ask whatever questions you need.”

Neil picked up his Earl Grey, took a sip, and settled it back down again. No sugar, just how he liked it. He put his feet up on the edge of the coffee table and nestled into the velvet chair—it was very comfortable, but he couldn’t imagine anyone larger than him would find it so. How on earth did Kevin sit here for an hour every two weeks?

“I’m going to take a nap.”

Andrew said nothing, but Neil saw the tick of his jaw before he closed his eyes.

At first, Andrew didn’t move. Neil eventually heard him shift, and then stand, take his own mug off the table and treading lightly across the room. A creaking noise: Neil cracked open one eye to see the chalkboard on the opposite wall, next to the door, lifting up to reveal a book case. Andrew grabbed something off the bottom shelf—something tattered and worn—before closing the hidden bookshelf and turning around. Neil shut his eyes before Andrew could see him staring.

Andrew sat down again with his book, opened it, flicked through a few pages, before saying “You’re terrible at pretending to sleep.”

“I’m not trying to pretend.”

Andrew hummed.

Neil did not trust therapists—psychologists, psychiatrists, anyone of that or a similar brand. It was pure instinct. He could not sleep with Andrew in the room, but he could piss him off by wasting his time: He was Kevin’s psychologist—and Matt’s. Probably one of the most popular counselling professionals in the world of professional sport. If he shit-bagged Neil to Kevin about how much of a waste the session was, maybe Kevin wouldn’t hassle him again.

Andrew said nothing else. Neil opened his eyes at the beep of his watch, marking the turnover of an hour. He stood up, straightened his shirt and looked down at Andrew who was perusing a book on his couch. The psychologist didn’t spare him another glance, nor another word as he walked out.

The receptionist glared up at him—identical to Andrew. His name tag read A. Minyard, which wasn’t helpful at all. “So, first session with Andrew, huh?”

Neil nodded.

“Would you like to schedule the next one? Weekly or fortnightly is the recommendation, but—“

“Next one?”

He rose up a single eyebrow. “Oh, yes. Andrew insisted. It’d be wise to listen to his instruction.”

When the hell did Andrew instruct—

“Same time, next week.” Not-Andrew stabbed enter with his finger and stood up to give a business card. “The reception phone is always manned if there’s an emergency. We’ll link you through to him if it’s necessary. Bye.”

Neil nodded, stunned, turned himself around and marched out the door before he could kick up a fuss.

~

“What level of nutcase was he for you to text me mid-session?” Aaron lounged in the chair as Andrew rounded the front desk.

“None of your business.”

“Oh, now patient confidentiality is a concern of yours?” His twin arched an eyebrow. “You just want to get with him. That has to be illegal.”

“Aaron.”

Aaron rose up his hands in surrender, lips puckered like he tasted something sour and tucked himself under the desk, sitting up.

“You have a patient coming in five minutes. Go set up.”

Andrew sat down when Aaron slipped by him and put his feet up on the desk, staring at the screen.

Neil Josten was attractive. That was, however, not a concern of his. Regardless, he’d already known that. It was hard to sift through sports’ news without finding a Moreau, Josten, Reynolds, Knox, Boyd or even the legendary Day plastered somewhere, shirtless and glistening.

He and his twin had made a name for themselves as the one-stop-shop for professional sportsmen and women: Andrew fixed their heads, Aaron fixed their bodies, and Renee fixed their relationships. It was as good a team as any.

Neil Josten. Andrew scoffed.

~

Kevin shoved Neil out the door a week later. “Go.”

“Kevin—“

Kevin slammed the passenger door shut for Neil and sped off. Neil cursed after him until he turned the corner.

It was easy for Neil to get home, or to their court. He wasn’t incapable of catching public transport, despite it being something he’d more or less avoided since starting college and shaking his father off his back ten years ago.

He didn’t have to walk in there, either. But sleeping through the session hadn’t had the desired affect: Andrew had talked to Kevin, and Kevin had yelled at him for it, sure. But he wasn’t letting Neil go: He was pushing him until Neil used the time ‘wisely’.

Neil made another sour face in the direction that Kevin had driven off, and stalked inside. They were both there, and Neil remembered Not-Andrew who’d manned the desk after his appointment. They were joined by a young woman, too, with silver hair that was black at the roots and cut to her chin. The three of them looked up at him: The woman smiled, Andrew rose up his signature eyebrow and Not-Andrew glanced at Andrew.

“Follow me.”

Neil pulled the door shut behind him.

“Going to pull the same shit, today?” Andrew went to draw the curtains shut.

“Most likely.”

“Your money, your time.” Andrew hummed. “I’ll have to move you to a different spot if you’re going to remain stubborn, because people who need this time slot more urgently than you do are waiting for it.”

“So why get me in again.” Neil said flatly, dropping into the chair.

Andrew looked at him. “Me, get you in again? You’re the one who rescheduled, Neil.”

Neil tasted something sour, sunk into the chair and closed his eyes.

~

This lasted four sessions—six weeks, when Neil started going fortnightly instead.

And then it changed

Renee buzzed Andrew in. He was at home: She was manning the reception phone tonight. He picked up immediately. “Renee?”

“I’ve got Kevin Day on the phone. He sounds very stressed: Can you take it now?”

“Put him through.”

“—swear to God, Renee?”

“Kevin, it’s me.”

He sighed with relief. “Thank god. Andrew. Help.”

Andrew almost rolled his eyes. “I’m aware you require it. What’s happening?”

“Neil’s having a panic attack. We’re in public: I’ve barricaded the bathroom and we’re alone. He won’t talk to me.”

“What makes you think he’ll talk to me?”

“I don’t think he will, but you’re trained to do this. I’m not. I’m putting you on speaker and standing outside the door. Neil, if you need anything, call out to me. Ok?”

Andrew didn’t hear Neil reply, but there was definitely someone breathing raggedly. The phone was placed on the tile floor, and he heard the door shut.

“Neil.”

Nothing.

“I want you to breathe for me. I’m going to count with you. Ok?”

Nothing.

Andrew counted. He wasn’t breathing evenly nor steadily, but the longer Andrew murmured numbers, the more it evened out.

“Look at your hands, Neil. Are they holding something? Are they in fists? Can you stretch them out for me?”

Neil murmured something.

“Can you repeat that for me, Neil.”

“What are you—“ He took in a shuddering breath. “—doing.”

“I’m going to wait this one out with you and make sure you’re ok. I am able to answer any questions revolving why this would have happened and to help you work through how it started, what contributed to it, and how you can resolve it, understood?”

Neil hummed.

“Back to breathing, alright?” No response, not even a hum. “Ok. Breathe with me, ready…”

~

Kevin texted him later.

Thank you. That was a really bad one. I couldn’t let the press see him like that, he was desperate to escape but so lost in his head that he couldn’t find one. What did he say when he calmed down?

He didn’t say anything. Andrew texted back. He said ‘enough’ and hung up.

You’ll earn his trust. Kevin replied. Just be patient.

Andrew already knew that. Dont tell me how to do my damn job.

Right. Sorry.

~

Neil missed their next session.

He rescheduled, though, much to Andrew’s relief. It rolled around slowly, like watching the clock and seeing the second hand slow down just to taunt you. But it czme, eventually, and he appeared in the doorway, ragged and sleepless and angry.

He doesn’t shut the door behind him this time.

“You could have saved your brothers’ scholarship if you’d explained the history of your abuse during his trial. But you didn’t.”

He did his research.

“Does slandering me make you feel better about being exposed as you were?”

Neil’s jaw tightened.

“For your information, Aaron wasn’t going to let me attempt that. We had enough evidence to keep him out of jail. None of that is your business.”

“Did you kill your mother?”

Andrew tapped on the armrest of his couch. “Car accidents are awful things. Did you kill yours?”

Neil stared at him. “No. My father did.”

“And your uncle killed your father, and the boss of a mafia gang in New York killed him. Are you next?”

Neil shook his head. “How do you know about Ichirou?”

“I am good friends with Kevin.”

“He never talked about you until he admitted to going to your sessions a few months ago.”

“He doesn’t talk about much but Exy, does he.”

Neil paused. “I suppose that’s true.”

Andrew stopped tapping on the armrest when he saw Neil was watching his movement. Neil’s gaze flitted up to his because of it. “Are you going to talk to me, now?”

“I’m not good at talking.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m very good an comprehending nonsense and piecing together puzzles. Where do you want to start?”

Neil paused, and then let out a singular, startlingly genuine laugh, stretching out on his chair. “Oh, doctor, it all started when I was young and impressionable…”

“Don’t you dare.” Andrew felt the tick of a muscle in his cheek. He was not going to smile. He was not going to smile. “What if we worked through the night where Kevin called me, hm?”

Neil sighed. Cast his gaze to the ceiling, then back to Andrew. Swallowed. Looked down at his hands.

“Fine.”

And they did.

~

The next time Neil called Andrew after-hours, it was weeks later and he was the one manning the reception phone: It was in the pocket of his slacks and he was on the couch at home. The three of them took turns keeping the reception phone on them: Each of them were qualified in first-aid, of which they’d required twice before. Aaron was the only one of the three who wasn’t apt at dealing with psychological emergencies, but was the best with physical ones. It was a good system.

Andrew rose the phone as soon as it started ringing. “Yes.”

“Oh, Andrew. It’s you.”

Neil had his session today. Why was he calling?

“Indeed.” Usually people couldn’t distinguish between him and Aaron over the phone. How had Neil been able to with just a yes.

“Oh. Hi.”

“What is it?”

“It’s not—“ Neil made a noise. “I realise now this is the after-hours phone. And this isn’t urgent. It’s stupid, too.”

“Nothing can be stupid if I haven’t been given the chance to judge whether it is or not, Neil. What is?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you. More. Are you always working?”

“Not always.”

“Is it weird if I get your actual phone number? Is that some kind of breach of policy?”

This was not happening. “You can have it.”

“Oh. Ok. Let me—“

“I’ll text you.”

“Oh. Right.”

Andrew hung up and leapt for his actual phone, where it was laying face-down on the coffee table.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The only thing that was stupid about Neil Josten was how much Andrew had let himself like him.

~

“Why are you so groggy.” Aaron remarked when Andrew walked into the reception. Renee had a coffee waiting for him.

At approximately the same time, Kevin hit Neil over the back of his head. They’d been up and at it since six—Neil was already dead on his feet, but he kept checking his phone. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“I didn’t get much sleep.” Neil slid his phone back into his bag.

Andrew didn’t reply to Aaron’s very similar question.

“You never get much sleep.” Kevin grumbled to himself. Neil ignored him.

“Bad night.” Renee deduced. Andrew sipped his coffee.

No, Andrew thought, remembering who he’d been up talking to until four in the morning.

Not for the reason you’d think, Neil thought, following Kevin back to the treadmills.

~

Andrew had thought—had suspected, hoped, projected, was almost certain—that Josten was going to ask him out.

He hadn’t.

Andrew wasn’t sure what was going on. Maybe years ago, he would’ve given up and moved on without the bat of an eye, but this Andrew was invested in puzzles with missing pieces and things so shattered that the normal man wouldn’t dare try to work out how to glue it back together. Andrew was psychoanalysing Neil out of habit, and assessing every little movement and comment and facial expression out of habit.

It was driving him up the wall.

He met Neil for coffee after Neil’s early morning runs, and they grabbed Thai and Italian and Chinese together when Andrew got out of the clinic.

Neil was very good at guidelines, and understood what Andrew meant when he asked Neil to keep it separate from his therapy: Andrew had a job to do. It was still never a single hour that was all about Neil and his issues: From the beginning, Andrew had worked out that a truth was traded for a truth, and that they would get nowhere in Neil’s twisted, thorn-embedded landmine of a mental space if he didn’t let Neil into his own.

But outside his office, he could no longer detach himself like he often did.

It was what lead him to grabbing Neil by his fingers—the first bad decision—and rerouting to the roof-top access stairwell—the second bad decision—showing Neil he was apt at lock jimmying by getting it open without disturbing the alarm system—the third bad decision—and pulling Neil to the edge—the fourth bad decision.

“What do you feel, standing here?” He was curious. His heart was racing, every breath catching in his throat. A combination of the sheer drop beneath them and the fingers still hooked with the redhead next to him’s. Neil looked tired, but a well-worn kind of tired: No nightmare-induced shadows under his eyes or nervous clench to his jaw. They’d been up talking all night again.

“The wind.”

“A truth.” Andrew looked out. “I’m scared of heights.” The fifth bad decision—telling Neil that.

His blue eyes opened a little wider. “Why did you bring me out here, then?”

“It used to be the only way I could feel something.”

Neil was still looking at him in that peculiar way of his, feeling as though he was opening Andrew’s chest, one layer of skin at a time. But he’d made it well-past his skin, and had pulled back filaments of muscle, and yanked at his sternum and ribcage, worming around his lungs and dislodging his trachea. There was only one thing left in there.

“What do you feel now?”

“If I asked to kiss you—” Andrew started.

“Yes.” Neil’s fingers tightened around his.

“You didn’t hear me out.” Andrew frowned, looking at him.

He was so close. “I already knew what you were going to say.”

Andrew turned into it. That was the sixth bad decision—and probably the worst. But Andrew still refused to believe in regret and abided by his own policies (aptly ignoring the don’t-fuck-around-with-patients policy), and this was happening. This was happening.

“I hate you.” He muttered, right against Neil’s lips. Neil wasn’t moving backwards. It was as good of an excuse an any to do it again—The seventh bad decision.

It was that point that Andrew lost count of the number of bad decisions he’d made—because he let himself be lead inside and lost count of the kiss count as soon as they made it past Neil’s front door.

~

Neil’s reasoning for stopping the sessions was because he was ok: Andrew wasn’t having any of it. He wouldn’t see Renee since becoming friends with her, but he was unwilling to branch out.

“It’s the regularity and routine.” Andrew grabbed Neil by his chin and rose up an eyebrow. “Neil. We can still keep the sessions going.”

“I have access to your services as a psychologist whenever I like. You won’t let me pay anymore: There are people who need the time slot more than me.” Neil put his fingers around Andrew’s wrist. “And as much as I appreciate the offer, the risk of me ending up naked on your desk is far too high. Not that I’d complain, but—it’s a little unprofessional, don’t you think?”

Andrew shoved him back with a scoff. “I do have some element of self-control, Josten.”

Neil grinned.

[modern-and-married-jeffmads]

M&M JeffMads Chapter 1: Reuniting

Hey guys, this is my first time writing a real fan fiction, so my apologies in advance for any errors. I would love some feedback and I do plan on writing a chapter two, hopefully people like this enough to want a second part. Anyway, this is a part of the Hamitlon M&M AU, I have started.

Word Count: 2301 (I wrote all this in my journal first so bear with me)

Warnings: none, fluff maybe

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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James Madison Jr., normally called “James” by his friends, “Mr. Madison” by his co-workers and associates, and “Jemmy” by Thomas Jefferson, was born on March 16. James lived a rather normal life with his mother and father in Virginia. Though he was born in Port Conway, Virginia, his family had moved to Monticello, Virginia around the age of three since the new home was close to a better hospital there.

Madison may have been calm, reasonable, and lived more so on the average side—had high honor roll throughout all of school, stayed mostly to himself, except for a small group of friends that he would have here and there, and went to college to become a lawyer like his father—but he was always sick. It was usually the case of the sniffles or a minor cold. Every once in a while, he may catch a fever or the flu or a stomach bug that causes him to wear a face mask every so often. When his mask was on, most people knew that James wouldn’t speak as much, so it was best to give him his space. It was also best to know to not mess with his suitcase or bookbag. He cared immensely about his work as he would like to have it done quickly, without error, before his shift ended. He did not like taking work home because he enjoyed getting comfortable in his own sanctuary. Comfortable meaning: wearing an overly large knitted sweater, a classic horror novel in hand, and some kind of chocolate based junk food to sooth his sweet tooth. James enjoyed this past time as a child, so messing with his literature and snacks during his much-needed break would not have been wise. James rarely got upset with anybody though. He was rather neutral towards most people except his small group of friends, like Aaron Burr. Both seemed neutral and intelligent to each other, so they may have a chat every once in a while.

Burr was the one who introduced Madison to some of his friends like Lafayette, a sweet, broken English, French man, with an interesting and bright sense of fashion. They got along well, though James would prefer to wear his simple suits, sweaters, and pastel colors. James also met Hercules, who weirdly looked a lot like him, but acted nothing like him. Hercules was loud, athletic, courageous, healthy. Even though they were opposites, they found a middle ground as they enjoyed the same literature preferences. James wasn’t completely found of Alexander though since their politic views clashed, but James respected his determination and passion he put into all his work. Everything sort of changed with his routine once he reunited with his old childhood friend, Thomas Jefferson.  

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Thomas Jefferson, “Jefferson” to his colleagues, and “TJeffs” to his friends, which was a very large group. Thomas had always been a social butterfly amongst his brothers and sisters, even when they moved to Monticello, Virginia so their mother could work at a new hospital and their father could begin at a new architectural project. While Thomas may have been born on April 12, a month after James, he was older than James by a couple years. Thomas was honestly the opposite of James and most wouldn’t have thought that they would have gotten along, but that wasn’t completely the case.

Jefferson was a handsome, towering, muscular male with curls that could block out the sun. He was always popular in school and made the average B’s and occasional A’s, but his street smarts and charm were unbeatable. Thomas could strike up a grueling debate too since he did it with his teachers though, it wasn’t taken as kindly as it would be with some peers at the lunch table. Thomas wasn’t too pleased with taking orders from others, so he stayed in thirty-minute detentions arguing and wearing his flashy, magenta jacket at his school. His mother was more supportive during his college years when he wanted to major in psychology instead of architecture like his father. Thomas thought that since he could make most open to him within a few minutes, he felt as though he would be a wonderful therapist, which he was. He may have been professional in the workplace as one of the lead therapists, but that didn’t stop him from being adventurous after hours. His charm, southern drawl, and lavish fashion sense and lifestyle left him partying and hooking up with boys and girls from all walks of life.

They were normally one-night stands. Nothing too serious, but the idea of forming a solid relationship crossed his mind occasionally. Just as he wasn’t a stranger in a bedroom, he wasn’t a stranger with the law either, as he would occasionally get stopped for speeding or possibly parking in an illegal zone. Jefferson didn’t pay too much mind to the tiny tickets until he got a court order in the mail stating that he must come to discuss the large accumulation of fees and whether he should have his driver’s license revoked, which he did not want to happen. He decided, since his tone may not go well in court, to request an attorney to represent him. Little did he know that his court representative would be his old friend James Madison.

Thomas had met James one day while at the hospital his mother worked at. Mrs. Jefferson was treating Madison for an ear infection he had caught, and Jefferson sat in the room, watching all the medical magic take place. Mrs. Jefferson had to leave the room to speak to James’ parents, which gave Thomas the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

Little Thomas introduced himself to the sick little boy and began asking a boatload of questions, in which poor James could only answer a few at a time between sneezes and coughs. Thomas learned that James was two grades behind him, that he does talk much, is really good in school, and always had something sweet on him, which Thomas found a bit odd and unhealthy, but paid it no mind. James learned that Thomas wasn’t the brightest, but seemed to care and knows what he wants to do with his life. They also learn that they attend the same elementary school. That meant Thomas would try to find James in the library every day during lunch and would rant to him about his teachers. Thomas also tried giving him healthier foods and started calling him “Jemmy” because he felt “James” was a little boring. The name stuck with James, so he allowed it, but only allowed Thomas to call him that. Since they were in separate grades though, seeing each other became more of a challenge, especially when Thomas began high school before James. Once James started, he had become a shadow behind the large mass of students. James went on to college to pursue his degree and worked under his dad until he became co-owner. Jefferson had a bumpier start, with the partying life slowing him down, but he mellowed out just enough to graduate and find a counseling job.

Now in his late twenties, he was waiting in the lobby of a civil court building, flirting with some other vehicular violators. “Thomas Jefferson?”, a low voice with a sniffle behind it called out. Thomas had turned and saw a very short, red-faced man’s eyes slightly widen whereas Thomas’ grew extremely wide upon seeing him. “Jemmy?”, the tall southerner called, letting the name ring in James’ ears. “You’re my attorney? Man, Virginia is so small, and I see you still have the sniffles”, Jefferson exclaimed. Thomas began rambling, trying to catch up with his old lunch buddy. James had to cut the conversation short, as it was time to head into the courtroom to attempt at allowing Thomas to still drive.

Standing there in front of a stone-faced judge stood James Madison—a 5’4” man with medium sized lips, dark brown, almost black eyes, red cheeks and nose, short and tight curly black hair, in a full dark grey suit—whom spoke in a calm and simple, yet proper and persuasive tone, that made Thomas’ actions seem like minor accidents that he will pay for. Behind him, towering over him at 6’2” was a light brown man with large dark curls with brown hazel eyes as he wore a black long sleeve dress shirt with a matching magenta vest and slacks.

Thomas stood there in awe, watching the small man present a strong case for an old friend. James’ words flowed from his lips so easily like butter, even when a sniffle interrupted him, it didn’t ruin his train of thought. Thomas felt as though he could listen to James talk for hours, just like how James listened to him when they were younger. The judge had heard enough and was convinced that Thomas deserved to keep his license, but he will have to pay a hefty fine. Nodding quickly, Thomas complied as the next case was being called in and James led them back into the common area.

“James, you were amazing in there. For a man so soft-spoken, you sure know how to make a compelling case.”, Thomas said leaning against a nearby wall. “It is my job, Thomas”, the sick man said, ready to head back to his office without another word. Thomas stood up, the smirk on his face shifting into an awkward smile as a small blush grew. “Jem- James?”, Thomas called. “Yes?”, Madison said as he looked at the man before him. “Thank you”, Thomas said, “and maybe we could meet up later to catch up or something”. Thomas wrote down his cell phone number on a small piece of paper he had in his pocket and held it out. James accepted the gesture, “I’m sure we can do that.”, he said tucking the paper away. Thomas’ signature smirk quickly crawled back on his face as he collected himself. Thomas placed his hand on the short man’s shoulder, “Can’t wait to talk later”, he said as he rolled his thumb into James’ shoulder before letting go and walking out of the building. James rubbed his shoulder and let out a small breath before letting a small smile climb on his face as he sneezed from the cologne Thomas left on him. James walked back in his office as he collected his papers, placing them in his briefcase, along with his bookbag that contained his snacks and sweater he’d wear if the building was extremely cold, and left as his shift has just ended.

James had finally returned to his small apartment in quieter part of the city after a long car ride with the heater blasting and a random audiobook playing. Stepping into his home, he almost instantly relaxed his shoulders as he put the suitcase down in his office and placed his bookbag on the table in the kitchen for a restock in the morning. He slipped out of his suit and placed in a hamper near his closet as he then slid on an extra-large grey knitted sweater. The sweater wrapped comfortably around his neck, the sleeves fell past his arms, and the bottom of the sweater stopped a little bit past the middle of his thighs, which meant that he did not wear pants. After sliding on his house slippers, he went into the kitchen to prepare a quick dinner consisting of some fried fish and French fries that were drowning in tartar sauce. James was then sitting on the couch, with his meal on a small foldable table, and the radio playing, as he wasn’t a big fan of watching television. The only time his television came on was when a co-worker suggested a show that peaked his interest. If it did, that would mean that James will binge watch the entire series on the weekend with nothing but donuts and a couple chocolate mochas. After that, the tv would go back on a long hiatus.

Three-fourths of the way through his meal, James finally decided to pick up his phone and scroll through his contacts. There weren’t that many since he wasn’t that social, just some co-workers and his small group of friends. He sat there and thinking to himself on how his day went. How seeing Thomas again brought back old, fond childhood memories of how Thomas would interrupt his reading or try to feed him apples that weren’t covered in caramel or how Thomas invited him to one or two sleepovers. James always came over with a bunch of medication his mother packed and a thick wool blanket that he always slept with. The smile lightly faded though as he thought about how Thomas had left James for a larger, livelier crowd, leaving him to himself. James wasn’t mad at Thomas though because he knows Thomas was always the kind to want attention and admiration from everybody while James kept quiet in his large sweaters. James felt his face become warmer than normal, but not because he was coming down with illness. It was more of the idea of seeing Thomas again. Seeing how Thomas seemed excited to him again after so many years apart. How Thomas called him by the sole pet name anybody has ever given him upon first seeing him. The feeling of Thomas sensually caressing him and leaving his scent on him. These thoughts made James face bright red, but he kept his composure as he found the small piece of paper he took from Thomas. Thomas had written his number down with a little star next to it which made James chuckle. He took a long breath before typing the numbers in, labeling the contact “Tommy”, and sending a message saying, “Hi. It’s James...”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you all enjoyed this. See you next time.

[c-valentino]

Rooftop Songs

Fandom: All For The Game Characters: Aaron & Andrew Minyard

written for and inspired by foxesrefuge  

because you can’t have enough of the Twinyards

People always looked at him and asked themselves: Is it him? Andrew, his infamous twin, was always the first who came to mind when confronted with their faces. They couldn’t help it, he wouldn't be any different in their place. But he wasn’t Andrew; in fact, he was nothing like his brother. Sometimes he had no clue who his brother really was either and Andrew sure as hell did his best to keep it that way. In return, his twin did nothing to figure out who Aaron really was.

If you ignored their identical faces, you could have thought they were two strangers sitting in the same room when you came across them. Except, Aaron knew Andrew paid him more than enough attention. He knew all about the parts he shouldn't know. He knew about Katelyn; even though Aaron wished he had never found out about her. Their relationship was already too fragile and Aaron wasn’t sure it could be saved. He was, although, pretty sure Andrew wouldn't care. His twin had a new obsession now, one named Neil Josten, a striker who had recently joined the team. Aaron didn't like the guy and quite frankly, he didn’t get what all the fuzz was about. So the guy had issues. Wasn't that pretty much a requirement to join this team? He didn't get it.

While everyone was busy getting to know the new fox, Aaron kept his distance. There was precious little alone time as it was. The monsters, as everyone liked to call the group around Andrew, usually stayed with each other. Now it seemed like Andrew wanted to make Neil part of his little circle as well. He didn't require the approval of anyone else, –not even Neil’s, even though the guy hadn't figured that one out yet –he would just decide and that would be that.

The guitar hummed in his hands, willing but Aaron had yet to figure out how they would get along. He had bought it recently, thought he could teach himself to play but he still sucked at it. He kept it hidden from the others. He didn't know why, but he liked the thought of having something just for himself no one else knew about. –That, and he didn't like people listening to him practicing. He went up onto the roof to do so when the weather was nice. No one ever came here. Well, that couldn't be true, since the lock had obviously been tampered with at some point, but Aaron had never met another living soul up here before.

Weeks went by and everything seemed to get from bad to worse around the fox court. A dead teammate, a declaration of war from the Ravens –thanks to Neil, the escalation in Columbia and the following backlash from the upperclassmen –thanks to Neil, Andrew acting out more often than usual –again, thanks to Neil… Aaron was more than sick of all of it. At least his guitar play improved steadily, thanks to youtube videos and hours of practice. It calmed him down, grounded him and kept him steady in times when everything else was just fucked up. He could now play some of the songs they listened to at their dorm room. Sometimes he sang along but it was more fun to play more than just guitar chords and figure the more complicated parts out by himself. When he couldn’t, he found the sheet music on the internet. Aaron worked methodically through each song at a time and committed them all to memory. His might not have been as perfect as Andrew’s but it was still pretty good compared to the average minds of his classmates.

He was found out one night, when someone entered the roof behind him, hesitating at the door for a second, confronted by him sitting there crosslegged and playing another song he had just memorized the day before. By the pause Aaron could tell that they both had expected to be alone up here. He didn't turn around to see who it was. Maybe they would leave again. He would be fine with that. Instead, the door fell shut and someone stepped closer behind him. Not one of the girls, Aaron could tell by the steps and then he heard the familiar sound of a lighter and the exhale of cigarette smoke. Aaron’s fingers fell away from the strings and he looked over his shoulder. His brother was standing a few steps behind him, looking down on him, expression blank as usual. He must just be coming down from his drugs for the night, Aaron thought. What was Andrew doing up here? His brother was afraid of heights. No one else knew but Aaron had noticed a while ago.

They looked at each other, two identical faces of two people who felt like they didn't know each other. Andrew was the first to break the awkward silence between them.

“I didn't know you played.”

“No. Now you do.” Another puzzle piece for his brother’s games.

“Now I do,” Andrew repeated and took another drag from his cigarette. He sat down behind his twin, facing away from him, not looking at him like always; because that was how they worked these days. Aaron turned around again, hand hanging limply next to the strings.

“I thought you don’t like heights.” Not What the fuck are you doing here? but close enough.

“I don’t,” Andrew admitted. He pulled one leg up to rest his arm on top.

“Then why are you here?” He clearly hadn’t been looking for him.

“It’s not that difficult, is it?” Despite all their differences, despite all the shit that had been going on and all the fights that were sure to come, Aaron didn’t like the sound of that.

“You don’t need to be afraid to feel something, Andrew.”

“Don’t I? Are you an expert now? Did you get your medical degree along with those guitar skills behind my back?” Because everything always had to be a fight between them. Andrew wouldn’t have it any other way. Aaron didn’t answer. He thought about leaving Andrew here, when his brother spoke again. “Alright. Go on then, play and make me feel something.”

Aaron hesitated, then began to play again. He picked his songs carefully. He knew what kind of music Andrew liked, they had shared their room for a while after all. Sometimes he hummed, sometimes his fingers alone were enough. He didn’t say anything when Andrew stood up again after a while. He knew his twin would need to go to bed soon, or he would crash and would have to take another dose. Andrew left without another word and was already asleep when Aaron entered their room that night. Kevin too was already snoring softly on the other side of the room.

From that night on, their paths crossed more often on the rooftop. Andrew seemed to have figured out where his twin vanished to, and like every other piece of information, he used it. They never talked much up there. Andrew just joined him shortly after Aaron had gone up and sat down behind him. Aaron was just trying to figure out a new part, as his twin suddenly leaned back against him, his broad shoulders a solid weight against his back, warm and unexpected.

“Play that other one.” It was the first time ever Andrew had requested a song from him.

“Which one?” Andrew thought about it but maybe he didn’t know the same because he started to hum the refrain softly. It was such an unfamiliar sound that it was actually Aaron who felt something at that moment, something he hadn’t in a while. Brotherly love was a rare thing between them these days. He leaned back a little against his twin, counterbalancing them so he could play more easily. Andrew lit another cigarette. When Aaron’s clever fingers plugged the melody from the strings, Andrew leaned his head back and rested it on his brother’s shoulder.

That night, Andrew said something before he left. “You can bring that down with you, you know?” Aaron still hid his guitar outside of their room. He had no real reason for it but now he had Andrew’s approval to stop doing so. It pissed him off a little that Andrew thought he would need his permission –but then he just huffed a little laugh, because he just couldn’t take a simple invitation at face value it seemed. Because everything had to be a fight between them.

[jojen-hewitt]

“Better luck next time.”

Bank Robber AU for @ambiguous-eyepatch for the Valentines @aftgexchange!

I had a lot of fun drawing these and I hope you like it! 😃

I realized too late that this wasn't exactly what you meant by your prompt, sorry about that, but I hope it's still okay!

The rest of my mini-fic/headcanons/ramblings about this AU are below the cut:

Okay, so right off the bat I got a little carried away with this AU and its way longer than I thought it'd be, so tldr version; Andrew and Neil are rival thieves who sometimes help each other out. Neil gives fake names, Andrew finds him interesting. Two finger salutes are used back and forth. The others make appearances. Neil's a little shit to Riko. Totally impractical, illegal, and very convenient scenarios ensue. Exactly what you'd expect from what was supposed to be a Bank Robber AU but turned more into a Cat Burglar AU. Again, sorry about that!

So, *rolls up sleeves*

Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky are a gang of thieves (Aaron is the tech/medic guy, Andrew's the thief, Nicky is usually the distraction/get away driver). The three of them have been doing this since the twins were in high school. ("It's expensive raising two twin boys as a single parent. Especially when one has expensive tastes in cars and the other wants to be a doctor!" "For the last time Nicky, stop telling people we're your kids!!")

Although Andrew has been doing this on his own for a while (it's how he got himself thrown into juvie)

Neil takes to becoming a thief after his mom died. They still went on the run because they stole from his father, so he thought that would be the best way to keep up some kind of income. He changes name and appearance to avoid police and his father (heads up now, this is the last time Nathan's mentioned, didn't know how else to add him).

Neil threw his outfit together at a thrift store (Orange was the only colour of bandana left, ok).

Andrew of course bought nice, expensive, dark clothes that can blend easily in a crowd. Also to make him look ninja like, not like anyone but Nicky would dare to admit it though.

These two first meet at the Hernandez Museum in Arizona. Neil tries to steal a painting; Andrew whacks him in the gut with his poster portfolio before grabbing the painting and high tailing it outta there, (Not before he gets a fake name from Neil (probably Stefan)),

"Better luck next time." *two finger salute*

As Neil moves on to South Carolina, sometimes the orange gets recognized, so the papers have taken to calling him The Fox ("Really, Matt? That's what they call him?" "Yeah, you know, orange face mask and he's a thief. Dan came up with it. Makes sense if you ask me.")

Side note, Neil is Matt's new roommate and Matt has no clue what's going down, but accepts that his roomie runs at weird hours and prefers to keep things surface level in conversation. They're still bffs during the day when their schedules intersect.

Dan, the investigative reporter interested in this string of robberies, lives with Renee next door to the cousins, those shifty looking guys who are always angrily whispering in German at each other and coming and going at weird times, but Nicky seems nice enough and Dan thinks Renee has a thing for Andrew, (she does not, they just spar together once a week, and Renee may or may not teach Andrew some lock picking techniques... maybe), so they let it go. 

Allison is a close friend of the girls and owns some of the valuables/buildings that get targeted. She's sort of confused when some of these items return a few weeks after Dan reports about them stolen, with a fox sticky note attached

(Neil may steal for a living, but he feels bad when he finds out some of that stuff is hers, so returns the more sentimental items. Andrew does not.)

Kevin is the detective trying to catch these thieves with his new partner - Andrew, who uses info to get a good location/hit or cover his trail. (also puts that criminal justice degree to some use).

*I debated making Kevin a security guard but liked the idea of Andrew being his partner while also being the criminal they're trying to catch dynamic better*

Kevin eventually joins up with Andrew's crew because Riko (Kevin's old partner, also on the robberies case) just took things way too far and sort of snapped, almost injuring Kevin. He won't take part in the robberies himself, but he'll help give a lead or distract the attention of the other officers when Andrew needs it. (He just wants Andrew to help keep him from Riko again.)

Kevin takes his job very seriously, but when he finds out Neil, an old childhood acquaintance, is The Fox he warns him to run before more trouble starts up with Riko (Neil does not, he's found a life here, even if some of its a lie, and he's gonna fight for it).

Kevin starts drinking around this time. (seriously, all he wanted was to be a good detective like his mom and dad, now he's covering for two thieves he's supposed to be apprehending for lord knows what reason)

Seth is a security guard who Nicky takes great pleasure in knocking out (he overheard the guy said some shitty things about gay people while they were staking out the place earlier)

Erik is the cousins' international seller.

Wymack is the police chief/commissioner and doesn’t get paid enough.

Now back to the thieving.

Neil keeps running into this guy at his heists and it turns into a sort of one sided rivalry of Neil trying to case the joint before Andrew gets there.

It barely works, Andrew always beats him there, but he gets better at it. (and someone would be lying if they said Andrew doesn't wait sometimes to see if the Fox shows up)

Neil's taken to calling Andrew the Monster because Allison hates whoever keeps stealing her stuff (also, getting hit by a portfolio tube hurts, Andrew, of course he's gonna think you're a monster at first) but after one time he hears Aaron yelling over Andrew's earpiece, he extends the title to "the Monsters".

which is also roughly when Andrew gives him some sort of name in return to Neil's alias (Chris this time around) because this has been going on for months now.

Andrew eventually makes a deal with him to help each other out because this thief is a train wreck and is gonna get them caught eventually (Andrew will keep the police off his tail and Neil just has to help Andrew with some of the trickier robberies).

Andrew tends to chat a little with this weird Fox named Alex or Stefan or Chris or Duncan or whoever he is today, just 'cause these robberies have started to bore him, but this,

this guy is something interesting

And they start to learn little seemingly inconvenient things about each other

("Oh, there's knives in those? Good to know." "Your mom's dead? Same for my brother. Paid for my car." "Favourite color is grey actually!" "You're more a raccoon than a fox." "Actually my family never celebrated holidays. What brings you to a jewelry store on Thanksgiving?" "I don't like being touched." "Tell your friend that I can in fact understand what he's saying in German... And fuck him too." "Ice cream is the best goddamn food in the world and I will gut you for saying otherwise!")

... Ok, last one is more context than verbatim, but you get the point...

As he gets better, Neil starts to leave little fox sticky notes behind with insults towards Detective Moriyama (because fuck that guy, he keeps bad mouthing The Fox in the news and saying it'd be easy to catch "an amateur like this flea"!!)

Kevin and Andrew have mini heart attacks when they find them ("why agree to my protection when you clearly have a death wish?!")

Eventually, Neil has perfected the art to the point where he can get the item/money before Andrew arrives, but against his better judgement (and the screams of his mother in his head to "Just run! Run! Get out of there while you can!") he stays, even just to leave Andrew with a new fake name.

One of these nights Neil almost gets caught by Riko on patrol, (who is still rather enraged by the last note; how does the Fox even know about his daddy issues?), so he has to change his appearance last minute to not get recognized on the streets.

Matt is the most surprised by the new auburn hair and blue eyes, but again, he rolls with it. Recommends that his girlfriend's roommate is really good with dying hair if he wants to mix it up again though.

Andrew and Aaron get into some trouble (*cough*Drake*cough*) so the Monsters are out of commission for a while.

Neil feels slightly responsible (somehow his tip off to Andrew leads to it, I don't know).

They haven't seen each other since that night.

Andrew eventually gets back into the swing of things ("Andrew are you sure..?" "Yes Nicky, now get in the fucking car.")

One night Kevin gets him a tip off about an opportunity at the EVRMR Private Bank (inside info from Jean who just so happens to hate working there and the Moriyamas, who own the place).

So as Andrew makes his way to the roof, he hears something below (hurried foot steps from all too familiar worn out shoes below) and he takes a glance and sees a flash of orange.

And there's that bothersome shadow who was only supposed to be a brief distraction from routine,

but now he's got a slightly new look and what appears to be a duffle full of what's supposed to be Andrew's cash.

Neil senses eyes on him and sees a figure on the roof and just knows.

Cue two finger salute. "Better luck next time!!"

And he's gone.

(Andrew still checks the vault and finds a fox sticky note that says 'Abram')

*cue Aaron's screams of annoyance and Nicky's demands to know if this guy is at least hot if they keep letting him take their marks*

(Kevin probably is downing a vodka bottle somewhere, but that's a given)

Next day, Riko is out for blood. Jean eventually quits and goes to work at the Trojan Bank.

Later, Dan decides to throw a house party for reasons (maybe a successful article? Matt got a promotion? A doomed attempt to get Renee and Andrew together?)

Renee calmly asks Andrew to come and he agrees for the sake of free booze (also Nicky has been making annoying puppy dog faces at the door ever since Dan asked him and he had to say no)

He's bored and tired and hates that his boss and Kevin are there

(Dan spends so much time hounding the police station for stories that Wymack has essentially adopted her)

Then Matt comes in with a quiet, auburn haired roommate called Neil.

That's when things start to get interesting.

[chestnutpost]

Here’s What Female Politicians Are Doing To Fix Child Care

This post was originally published on this site

What Women Want Now is a program by HuffPost and sister sites dedicated to creating content about the issues and stories that matter most to women. Read more here. Join the conversation with #WhatWomenWantNow.

Kristel England-Keefe has helped literally hundreds of families find child care over the last three years in her role as a referral specialist with a nonprofit organization that serves Sonoma County, California. But when she and her husband have tried to find care for their own two boys, they’ve struggled.  

Both parents are college graduates. Both have jobs. But England-Keefe says that putting the two kids in child care at the same time would cost at least $2,000 a month and probably a lot more. As it is, she says, they can barely cover rent in their two-bedroom apartment, which has no washer-dryer, no air-conditioning and sits just above a noisy street next to a fire station in the city of Santa Rosa.

Their makeshift child care solution is sending the older boy, who is four, to preschool. There, he gets the kind of activity and outdoor time he can’t in the apartment building. But keeping him at preschool all day would be too expensive, so England-Keefe drops him off on her way to work and picks him up on her lunch break to drive him home, where her husband has been watching the younger boy, who is two, since morning.

A few hours later, at around 4:30 p.m., England-Keefe finishes work, drives home again and takes over watching the kids so her husband can go to his job auditing tables at a casino. His shift ends at 2:30 a.m., which means he gets only a few hours of sleep before the 2-year-old is awake and the cycle begins again.

Aaron P. Bernstein via Getty Images Sen. Patty Murray (D-Wash.) is a former preschool teacher and working mother, so perhaps it’s not surprising she’s been leading the charge for Congress to do something about child care.

When England-Keefe and her husband get a day off together, they frequently spend the time taking turns sleeping. “We are not married … we are housemates,” she quips. “Our entire family is in a constant sense of stress.”

If they could find more affordable child care, England-Keefe says, they could get a little time every day to recharge. Or maybe her husband, who has trained as an emergency medical technician, could go back to school and get a nursing degree ― and the much better pay it would bring. “We would just be a family and work on our relationships or work on our economic status, or really work on anything,” she says.

Finding good child care is a struggle all over the U.S.

Stories like England-Keefe’s are pretty common in the U.S. For two-parent families, the average cost of child care for each child works out to about 10 percent of income, according to Child Care Aware of America, which has been compiling these figures for more than a decade. But that figure disguises a lot of variation. The cost burden can be absolutely crushing for parents who live in high-cost areas, have lower incomes or are paying for more than one child at a time. 

In Mississippi, for example, the average cost for accredited infant care is $5,300 per year. That’s about 7 percent of median income for a couple in that state. But in California, the average cost is $16,000 a year, or 18.6 percent of a couple’s income.

For single-parent households, the burden is a lot higher because household income tends to be a lot lower. In California, that $16,000 for infant care represents a whopping 60.4 percent of a single parent’s income, on average. And, again, that’s for just one child.

This problem is almost uniquely American. In France, Sweden and pretty much any other economically advanced country, the government finances extensive child care programs. The systems don’t work perfectly, but the reality is that working families in those countries can usually find high-quality care for their children at prices they can afford.

MARGARET BOURKE-WHITE via Getty Images When the U.S. needed women to work in factories during World War II, the government made sure to provide child care. But lawmakers let the program, known as the Lanham Act, lapse when the war ended.

In the U.S., working parents seeking help with child care must rely on a patchwork of relatively modest federal, state and local initiatives. Some families find their way to programs like Early Head Start, which has a heavy focus on child development and is available at no cost. But only low-income families are eligible and, even for them, slots are extremely limited.

In Texas, more than 46,000 low-income children were on a waiting list for subsidized child care as of last September, according to a report in the Texas Tribune. That number was actually 38 percent lower than earlier in the year, thanks to new federal funds that became available, and experts think it still represents just a fraction of the families that would be eligible if they applied.

The consequences of unaffordable child care are particularly perverse for women, who frequently end up with primary or sole responsibility for child-rearing. Some end up turning down jobs or promotion ― in some cases, because better-paying jobs require different, more expensive child care arrangements that they are unable to make. In other cases, it’s because higher income could mean they are no longer eligible for government programs that target the poor. 

“For families who qualify for subsidies, many times a promotion and raise of even 20 cents an hour would push them over the income limit for programs and so they have to turn down these opportunities,” Lauren Hipp, senior campaign director at the advocacy group MomsRising, told HuffPost.

Many experts believe the lack of affordable child care in the U.S. is among the reasons that the percentage of women in the workforce has actually fallen slightly since the 1990s, while it is has risen in peer countries like Canada, Germany and Japan.

“This has important ramifications for their future work prospects, including their career path and earnings potential,” a trio of researchers concluded in a major 2017 report from the Economic Policy Institute. “Likewise mothers’ career paths and earnings have implications for family income levels and well-being and the economy as a whole.”

Not that the only effects are economic. Kids end up in poor-quality settings, the worst of which are downright hazardous. Parents like England-Keefe end up with complex, overwhelming arrangements that undermine the whole family’s well-being.

And the political system has paid only fleeting attention ― until now.

Child care is on its way to becoming a top-tier issue.

During the 2016 presidential campaign, Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton introduced a proposal designed to make child care more affordable while simultaneously boosting its quality. A year later, a group of Democratic senators led by Patty Murray, from Washington state, wrote and formally proposed legislation to do the same thing. And just last month, Elizabeth Warren, the Massachusetts senator running for president, unveiled a major child care initiative of her own.

At the moment, the odds of any of these proposals becoming law are low. In theory, child care isn’t a partisan issue. In practice, the most serious initiatives require some combination of new spending and new regulation, two things the Republicans who have run Washington for the past few years generally oppose.

Boston Globe via Getty Images Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) just rolled out a sweeping child care proposal as part of her presidential campaign, giving the issue new visibility.

But Murray and her allies, including her counterpart in the House, Virginia Democrat Bobby Scott, have been working to shore up support for their measure. Warren’s proposal could give the issue a much higher public profile — because she made it the first major spending proposal of her campaign, and because the size of the investment she has proposed works out to something like four or five times what the federal government already spends on existing early childhood programs.

There is even action at the state level. Lawmakers in both Massachusetts and Washington are pushing legislation that would create a universal child care program. Newly elected governors in California and New Mexico have said guaranteeing access to affordable child care is atop their agendas, though they’ve yet to specify how they would do that on a permanent basis.

Only twice before in U.S. history has child care gotten this kind of political attention. One time was during World War II, when the U.S. needed women to build the war machine. Stories of moms leaving young children sleeping in the back seats of cars parked outside factories helped prompt the federal government to set up and run child care centers all across the country.

The arrangement worked well for parents and kids alike. Research later showed that the families ended up with higher incomes, while the kids did better in school. But after the war, Congress let the program lapse, in no small part because many lawmakers wanted men back in the factories and women back at home.

Not that all women were stay-at-home parents. Mothers in lower-income families frequently had to work just to keep food on the table, and finding child care was a struggle. But by the 1960s and ’70s, they had a lot more company, as traditional gender roles started to break down and more women gained access to the workplace.

This created a new demand for child care, and for a brief moment, it looked like the federal government would respond. Congress passed a bipartisan bill to create a universal care program in 1971 ― only to have then-President Richard Nixon veto it because, he said, government provision of child care would weaken families and move the U.S. closer to communism. 

New York Daily News via Getty Images In 1971, then-President Richard Nixon followed the advice of conservative adviser Pat Buchanan (right) and vetoed a major child care bill, citing the proposal’s “family-weakening implications.”

Although not everybody in Washington saw child care as such a fundamental threat to the American way of life, there weren’t many lawmakers terribly interested in tackling the issue, either. More often than not, they treated child care as a “woman’s issue.” And without many women in government, that was just another way of dismissing it altogether.

It’s by no means coincidental that it was Clinton, the first woman to be a major party nominee, or Warren, who has spoken frequently about the challenges she faced as a working mother, who made ambitious child care proposals cornerstones of their campaigns ― or that it is Murray, a former preschool teacher and working mom, who keeps pushing for child care to be a top priority for Democrats in the Senate.

Another reason the issue is getting new attention is a surge of grassroots support, not just from unions like the Service Employees International Union, which has long talked about child care, but also newer organizations like MomsRising and the United Parent Leaders Action Network, or UPLAN. These groups rally members through social media and turn out working parents to appear at rallies ― in many cases with their young children in tow.

Child care is too expensive — and yet not expensive enough.

A major challenge of the child care crisis is that it is really two problems, quality and cost, that are difficult to address simultaneously.

Definitive data on the quality of child care is difficult to find, but one of the most comprehensive studies to date, a major federal research project from 2006, found that the majority of child care in the U.S. was mediocre or poor. Only 10 percent was considered high-quality. A newer set of studies by the Center for American Progress, a liberal think tank in Washington, D.C., determined that just over half of all American families live in a “child care desert,” which researchers defined as census tracts with either no licensed child care providers or less than one slot for every three kids.

Parents “may settle for a child care setting that doesn’t feel as safe to them, or end up on really a long commute from their home because that is the only care they can get,” Erin Moore, national organizer for UPLAN, says. “People are resilient, find workarounds, but it’s not a good situation.”

Quality child care does exist in some places. The models that experts most frequently praise are Head Start and the system that the U.S. Department of Defense created for military families once the Pentagon realized that a lack of child care was hurting troop morale and causing some families to leave the military altogether.

The care in those models earns praise because it adheres to high standards. Head Start has a detailed curriculum and requires its educators to get extensive training. Nearly all military child care providers must meet guidelines set by the National Association for the Education of Young Children that cover everything from safety to worker-to-child ratios.

Win McNamee via Getty Images Hillary Clinton proposed a groundbreaking child care initiative as part of her 2016 presidential campaign, but almost nobody noticed.

It costs a lot of money to run programs like these, in no small part because it requires paying child care workers a lot more to attract and retain talented employees. Today, child care workers typically make less than $11 an hour, according to official government statistics. Even parking lot attendants earn more than that.

But child care is already so expensive for families that any effort to drive up quality is likely to make it even more unaffordable ― unless, of course, the government also spends a great deal more money.

This is precisely what promoters of these new plans have in mind. The Murray and Warren proposals differ in some important specifics, but their basic approach is the same. Both would spend a great deal more money on child care. Families could get this care by going through either large centers or in-home providers, as long as those live up to the kinds of high standards that Head Start and military child care are supposed to meet.

Like all policy proposals, these proposed initiatives have drawn some criticism. Some of it has come from progressive writers like Kathleen Geier, who, although supportive in general, thinks the proposals should go farther and make child care absolutely free. (Both the Murray and Warren proposals envision some families paying fees, depending on income.) Matt Bruenig, founder of the progressive People’s Policy Project, feels similarly ― but also says the government should do more to help stay-at-home parents.

Others are more skeptical of the whole approach, arguing that the new quality standards would simply drive up the cost of child care without actually improving quality. The Trump administration just put out a report making that point. Murray, Warren and others promoting these plans will need to address these criticisms and, perhaps, adapt their proposals to win support.

But ultimately, the biggest dispute over any major child care initiative would likely be about the dollars involved. The leading proposals all envision increasing federal spending on early childhood by three, four or even five times, depending on the details, and that’s more than some lawmakers would want to spend.

Advocates of these plans already have a clear, firm response to that concern: They say the investment is worth it.

“I have talked to so many people who cannot afford child care,“ Murray told HuffPost recently. “They are not going to work, they have quit their job, they have turned down promotions. … or they are putting their child in a setting where their child doesn’t get the kind of care they should. Every one of those has a cost ― to the family itself, to the community, to the businesses, to our country’s future.”

England-Keefe knows all about this. She’s seen it happen, at work and in her own life. At one point, she says, she and her husband thought briefly about separating just so their household income would change and qualify them for subsidies. They dismissed the idea, even though England-Keefe says she understands why other couples might do it.

“No one wants to work the system,” she adds. “We just want a system that works.”

The post Here’s What Female Politicians Are Doing To Fix Child Care appeared first on The Chestnut Post.

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