So Many Questions, Not a Lot of Truth

A secret is not always the easiest to share or hear. Especially when its all bad news.

James toss and turn in his sleep, fluttering his cloudy green eyes open. "Uh," he moans as he realizes that he'd fallen asleep on Sam's lap. He tries to lift up his weighted down head, but Sam's warm hands did not allow him to move any further. He struggles to turn his head enough to find out who is denying him, his freedom. He notices Sam shaking his head no.

"Sam, why are not letting me move?" he asks with his head filling up with question after question, but sadly not so many answers: Where is here? Wasn't he just sleeping in the nurse's office? But now why is he in a car, drooling on Sam’s lap. Whose car is this? It smells familiar, kind of like kale and onion.

He tries to think, but the pounding against his skull makes it impossible with coming up with a logical conclusion to all of his questions. He holds his breath with another wave of pain slashes against his sore muscles. James moans faintly, clutching on to Sam's shirt, feeling like he is going to puke. Breathing in small gasps of air, he tries his best to settle down his aching stomach. He lets out a big breath of air, noticing the pain is slowly diminishing quicker than before.

"Why are we in this car? Who owns this car?" James croaks, groaning as he tries to roll onto his back, but he stops midway, feeling someone's fingertips grip his shoulders. He stares at Sam's hand, not allowing him to move any further.

Sam stares back in amazement. "Do you not remember anything about when Aaron came to pick us up? We are in his car at your house... Did you forget?" Sam asks, hoping he was joking.

"Okay... wait... wait. When did you start calling my dad Aaron? Was I even there?" James asks, astonish by how much he'd missed, even though he was physically there the whole time.

Sam rubs the back his neck. "Yeah, you were there, but based on your confusion, I suspect you are a harder sleeper than I first thought. So I guess you didn't hear anything when you were sleeping on my neck. By the way, dude, you kind of left a mark," Sam answers with a hint of humor in his voice.

James blushes red as he tries to remember falling asleep.

"Wait! A mark? What did I do? What kind of mark?" he asks nervously, scanning every inch of Sam's face, but he can't find any evidence of one, except the covered-up scrape on his banged up forehead. He wonders, Is that it? What is he talking about? I don't see any marks or bruises. He feels his frustration growing with not being able to see what Sam is talking about.

"Dude, you drooled a lot." Sam frowns, lowering his head, showing off a thick layer of saliva covering his shoulder, neck, and all over his shirt.

"OH... oh... sorry," James apologizes, trying to wipe off the remaining drool hanging off of his bottom lip, but he didn't have enough energy to lift his arm high enough.

Sam chuckles softly, " James,” Sam tries to talk, but his laughing gets in the way. “James,” he tries again. “Please stop. I am here to help, while you rest and heal," Sam smiles as he closes his sapphire blue eyes. "I will always be here for you, no matter what, but can you do something for me?"  He flutters his eyelids open, revealing a rather serious look, James nods his head, waiting patiently to hear his words. "Can you stop being so adorable?" he chuckles, sticking out his tongue.

Both teens burst into laughter, lying on the old backseat, not paying attention to the engine suddenly shutting off. Allowing their faint laughter and whispers to echo throughout the car, a high-pitched squeak shatters the peacefulness of their once-content conversation. Both of their heads whips around with a soft clicking noise echoing near the closed door. The young teens intensely watch the metal frame slowly open up with a high-pitched screech yelling as the dirt coated hinges move. Revealing a tall man with pale green eyes shimmering with contentment.

"Am I interrupting something?" he jokes, putting his hands on his hips.

Both of the teenage boys blushes at Aaron's not so funny comment. But the embarrassment quickly fades with both of them ending up laughing at each other for being scared of something so stupid. Aaron can't help but smile at his son chuckling and acting like a kid again. Sighing, he knows very well, none of this would have been possible without Sam, who'd gone through thick and thin to keep their precious bond together, after all, these years. They're kind of like how Derrick and he used to be and still are. Maybe we should visit him soon. I bet James will love to see Kenny again... hmm, he wonders.

Clearing his throat, Aaron interrupts, "So do either of you guys want to come and join me inside for a cup of steaming hot cocoa, maybe with little bits of fluffy marshmallow goodness? Or do I have to go inside alone, without even a sweater to keep me company?" He pretends to cry, in an attempt to make both of them feel guilty. "I guess this is good-bye. No cocoa for you two."

Aaron slowly walks away with his pouting lip covering up a sly grin, counting in his head, one... two... three.... And right on cue James and Sam screams for him to stop. Aaron can't help but chuckle with his plan actually working. He turns around with a smile stretch across his face.

"Oh! So you boys do want to come in and join your old man?" Aaron pretends to act surprised. Lowering his head carefully, he climbs into the back seat to pick up his son from Sam's lap. As he cradles his only child in his arms, he looks back and taunts, "Are you coming inside, Sam? I bet James will miss you if you don't." 

"Yep," Sam chirps, jumping out of the car with a skip in his step, trying his best to catch up with Aaron and especially James. As he follows them through the big, old-fashioned door, he is amaze by how much the place haven't changed since the first time he visits, way back in second grade. He can't help but smile at how comfortable he is stepping inside. He can't put his finger on it, but this place seems more like home than at his brother and Nick's house or his sister's home. There is something different in the air, something calming and comforting. Even with not figuring out entirely what this feeling is, he liked it. This place is his true home.

"Sam, are you okay?" Aaron asks, staring at the teenage boy standing, near the door, not moving an inch. Sam quickly nods his head without looking his way. "Well, if you need to talk, I am here. Oh, before I forget, can you call your brother and ask if you can spend the night? I bet he and his husband will be worried if you don't show up soon."

Sam nods his head again, still looking blankly into space. Aaron gets up from his knees, after placing James softly on the sofa bed, knowing something is wrong. Walking over toward Sam, Aaron tries to remember anything that might have hurt Sam's feeling, that he wasn't aware of.

"Kiddo, are you sure you're okay? You seem out of it. Is your arm bothering you or maybe your head?" Aaron asks, checking for any sign of pain in his blank features.

"No...  no... it's just... I feel more at home here than at my brother's or my sister’s house. You and James gave me something that my parents could never give me�"a home that offers love and understanding. You seem to always be there for me when I am sad or need someone to stitch me up after I fall. I am just saying thank you," Sam smiles, with slight moisture invading his eyes. "Huh," Sam let out a small yelp as he feels two big, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and rubbing his back gently. Allowing Sam to release all of his bottled up emotions down his cheeks. Sam buries his face deep into Aaron's shoulder. "Thank you for everything." He cries for the first time, not for anyone else, but truly for himself.

"Oh, kiddo, cry all you want, but I don't think I am the right person you should be crying on. I am certain there's someone who is very special to you, who is probably waiting impatiently on the couch, and by now, he is most likely failing with his first attempt to get up. But hey, you want to know a secret?"

Sam nods his head in Aaron's chest.

"Don't stay strong. Weakness makes us human. Show James that you can be weak, but stronger with his help." Standing up from his knees, Aaron whispers, "I know you can be great, just lean on your friends when you need help. Don't do what James does, keeping it all bottled up, it is not good for your health because, with all that negative energy, you will blow up one day. Probably on a poor, random stranger crossing the street." Aaron laughs at his bad jokes as he walks back to the living room, where he tries to make sure James is comfortable by adding several layers of pillows and blankets around and underneath him. Submerging his limbs in the cushions of the couch. Sam slowly walks through the open doorway, admiring the father and son's strong bond. He smiles to himself, knowing that he didn't need his old family. Neither of his parents deserves his love anymore. He'd found a better family to offer him everything they didn't.

"Aaron, can I ask you a question?" Sam asks nervously.

"Sure. You can ask me anything," Aaron smiles, as he adds several more layers of blankets on the already trap young man.

"Help," James tries his best to catch their attention, but the layers of plush material make it impossible to speak.

"James told me earlier about…"

Before Sam can finish his sentence, James slams his pink wrapped up hand over his lips, cutting off his words from being heard. Sam shifts his head to the side, surprised by his quick reflexes, even with all the blankets, his dad piled on top of him.

"James," Sam mumbles under James's trembling hand. He stares at his eyes cover with a thick layer of pain, cursing up a storm as he grinds his teeth together. He uses all of his effort to cover up the shooting pain running up his arm. "Dude, it is going to be okay," he mumbles, trying to comfort the scared teen. James feels his hand melt away from his victim's mouth, feeling defeated by simple words. He gives in to Sam's demand, even though he did not want to, but he knows, deep down, he has to tell now, not later. However, Sam can do the talking for him; he is already on a roll. Sam takes a deep breath, feeling relieved that he can breathe and talk again.

"Why does the curse mark grow each year?" he curiously asks.

Aaron sits there, stun; however, he is impressed by his son's courage to finally tell his true love about his family's dark secrets. Letting out a big sigh, he explains, "I guess, you are old enough to know the truth, the whole truth." He turns his attention to James and rest a hand on his son's shoulder. "Personally, I never wanted you to know. But I guess I can't pretend it will go away either. Do you know the correct name of the curse, other than the Misluck curse?" Aaron asks in a serious tone.

James simply nods his head no as he waits eagerly for the truth, ever since the very first time he'd asked about it so many years ago. “Here it is… the truth,” he cheers in his head.

"The actual name of the curse is the casus in nobis, which means 'misfortune among us' in Latin. If you can remember back then, when we told you this particular curse was known to be one of the deadliest of all the curses around. It is because it is a death sentence for anyone, who have the unlucky opportunity to inherit this unique little mark." He pauses for a minute, squeezing his eyes shut, not wanting to cry. "It means you, and I are not going to live to be one hundred or even fifty," he whispers, not wanting his son to hear the ugly truth.

James feels his heart explode in his chest. "But why?" he whimpers with tears burning intensely in the corner of his eyes. "Why our family?" he screams.