twenty-seven

BEAU

My fingers drum against the table rapidly, moving beyond my control as I take another look around the run down diner in New York. Back from LA, I told Beck to split the distance and meet me here. Truth be told, the commute is easier for me anyways, but I was in a bad mood.

Rocco is fed up with me by now, tired of me flying off to wherever I decide, whenever I decide. Running my fingers over my eyes, I make a mental note to stick out the rest of the tour uninterrupted.

A waitress, young and pretty, refills my coffee, giving me a shy smile as she does so. I simply stare at the chipped black polish on my thumb nail, hoping my appearance doesn't frighten her too much, the tightness in my face a reminder of my bruises.

I adjust myself in the shiny red booth to get a better view of the door, wincing as my ribs throb in protest. Looking back down at my knuckles, I run my finger tips over the scabbed skin, nervous energy pulsing through me with every breath.

A hand knocks on the hard surface of the table then, to my dismay, catching me by surprise. When I finally look up, it's like I'm being sucker punched all over again.

"I can't lie, Beau. I didn't think you'd show," Beck grins despite my glare.

Casually, leisurely, as if unaffected by the circumstances, Beck takes a seat across from me, grabbing the attention of our waitress with a raise of the hand.

Rage fills me instantly, quicker than even I had expected. I hold it inside as the young girl pours another coffee, leaving cream and sugar on the table and quickly scurrying away.

"You look... well, like shit." Beck shrugs.

Again, I say nothing, in no mood for games. For a moment, the only sound between us is the metallic clanging of spoon against mug as Beck meticulously stirs too much cream into the coffee.

"Oh come on, Beau." Beck leans back finally, brows raised at me. "Don't you have anything to say to your big brother?"

Beck's eyes, an odd shade - bluer than mine but greener than Jace's, taunt me from across the table. Golden hair falls into his eyes, reminding me how similar we were in some ways. My own hair was never quite so blonde and darkened up as I got older, until I finally discovered black hair-dye, the first step in leaving behind the person that I was before.

"What do you want, Beck?" He always looked more like our father - from his jaw and broad nose, down to the stupid smirk on his face.

"I told you," Beck shrugs casually, perusing the diner menu as if this is a social call. "I want to talk."

"You have five seconds to start talking before I'm gone." I snap, feeling that the five seconds may actually be too generous. How many years has it been without seeing him, without seeing anyone from my life before MisFits? And now, he expects what - a joyous reunion?

He must have forgotten - when I left home those years ago, I did so with the intention of never seeing his face again.

Beck looks down at his hands folded atop the table then at mine, a smirk playing over his features. His friends always thought I was weird, painting my nails and dying my hair. I remember, because he never told them to leave me alone about it.

"I reached out because my girlfriend is pregnant," He admits finally, expression softening so he looks more like our mother than our father. Under other circumstances, the resemblance might have made me take it easy on him. But not now.

Oh, how the pieces all fall into place.

I nod, squinting at him through my shiner. "Babies are expensive."

"Yeah," Beck scoffs, raising his brows again. The waitress returns with a plate of eggs and bacon and I'm disgusted that he can even eat. "That's for damn sure. But I've got a job, we'll make do with what we've got."

I watch him skeptically, not believing a word that comes from his mouth.

"You don't think I reached out for money, do you?" Beck's mouth pops open, his half eaten breakfast food mushed on his tongue. I turn away in disgust but shrug my shoulders.

"Why else would you be so interested in catching up, all of a sudden?"

"Beau." Beck places his napkin over his plate, already half empty, and meets my eyes. "I don't want your money. If I'm being honest, all I want is my family."

Now it's my turn to lean back in the booth, unimpressed and unconvinced.

"You've got a girlfriend and a baby on the way. How much more family do you really need?" Never mind our parents, who had no problem raising you as an only child once I ran off, I add silently.

"I want my brother back." Beck's brows are furrowed above his eyes as he pushes blond hair from his forehead. "Look man, Dad is a dick. Always was. When you left, I guess I saw more of it. I should've stood up to him more for you, you know? I was supposed to have your back."

My eyes narrow at his confession. I don't buy it, not for a second. Every instinct inside me tells me to leave, to let him drown in whatever shit he's gotten himself into - no need for me to be brought down with him, too.

"Is that all?" I sigh, rubbing my sore knuckles beneath the table top.

Beck's expression looks hurt. "You're all I have left, Beau. We're all we have."

This time, I let out a humorless chuckle and shake my head. "You're wrong, Beck." I stand and drop some cash on the table - more than enough to cover his plate. "You're not all I have - not even close. And you certainly don't have me."

I trudge my way across the small diner, moving slower than normal due to my sore ribs. I can't believe he wasted my time. No, I correct myself, I can believe that he did - what I can't believe is that I let him.

"Beau, wait." There's a loud rattling as Beck stands up from the table behind me. "Please. Now that Mom's gone, I just..." His words stop me in my tracks, making me deaf to the rest of his sentence.

"Mom's gone?" I repeat over my shoulder without fully facing him.

"I tried to call." His voice is ashamed and full of sadness. "You had a lot going on at the time - I knew from the stuff online."

Another metaphorical kick to the gut. Of course I was too busy dealing with my shit to realize my own mother passed away. Because it really can't get any lower than that, can it?

Blinking away memories of a faded smile and sad eyes that I haven't seen in years, I grab the handle and swing the door open, sending the bells above me jingling like crazy.

"We're having a boy." Beck's last attempt at keeping me there only halts my stride. "I want my son to know his uncle."

With a deep breath, I finally meet Beck's gaze behind me, seeing the desperation on his face. Somewhere inside me, buried beneath all the other feelings I pushed down after I left home, the fissure left by the family that never accepted me cracks open again. A flood of pain and disappointment takes over me.

"Congratulations." I finally mutter before letting the diner door swing shut behind me.

***

The countdown to Boston weighs on me now more than ever. Not only am I anxious to see Emma again, to work through whatever the fuck it is we're going through, but I have the sinking suspicion that Beck simply won't let this "family" thing go.

I thought about telling Dr. Williams, getting a professional opinion. But then I realized that I have no desire to get into my childhood, my family, or how my mother passed, which I'm sure will come up. At least not yet. The truth is, I don't even know how she died.

The thought fills me with more shame than I've ever felt before. My head is buried in my hands when I hear the video call connect.

"You okay over there?" Emma's smile is much more cheerful than the last time I'd seen her. I wonder what sparked the change, knowing it certainly has nothing to do with me. Her face drops as soon as she sees my busted lip and black eye. "Jeez, Beau! What happened? Are you okay?"

I sigh, knowing the truth will upset her. There's no other option though. Her face twists in anger as I explain my run-in with Jace, turning into a full blown scowl as I tell her he was the one who leaked our story.

"I hate him."

Her tone is unlike I've ever heard it before - so unlike Emma. Seething with rage, she barely registers my voice.

"Hey. Forget about him, he's nothing." The words are easier to tell her than for me to believe myself. Personally, I'm still hoping I run into him alone some day. But I don't want her thinking like that.

"Enough about me. Are you okay, does it hurt?"

Too wrapped up in my thoughts, I forget to reply to Emma at all.

"Beau?" Her eyes are wide with concern when I finally regain my focus.

"I met with my brother today," I admit, sheepishly rubbing my hand over the buzzed sides of my head, missing the days when all my hair was long and able to cover my face.

Honesty - a habit I need to improve on again.

"You met with your brother." Emma repeats the words slowly, trying to piece together the information I've already shared versus that which I've never actually given her. She never looked it up on her own, I know that, too.

Because she's too good for this world, too good for me.

I nod slowly, the earlier pain I felt replaced with emotional numbness. "He's having a baby."

It takes a minute before Emma speaks and I watch bemused, as a number of emotions flit across her expression. Confusion, concern, a hint of hope.

No, that last one I'll have to squash.

"How do you feel?" She finally asks.

I shrug and feed her a fib that won't worry her. "I don't, really."

"Are you sure?" Her expression tells me she doesn't believe me but I nod anyways. "You don't think you'll..."

I shake my head immediately. "He's a stranger, Em. Baby or not, I want nothing to do with him."

She purses her lips like she wants to argue but finally just shakes her head and sighs.

"Anything I can do to make it better?" Her full lips turn up in a shy smile.

Looking at her face, the background noise of the hotel TV station fades away, the music coming through the shared wall becoming less annoying. I smirk, thinking of the many ways she could make it better. My eyes trail down to her lips, so pink and soft that I almost lose myself in the fantasy.

Pulling my gaze up to Emma's sweet, brown eyes, I let out a deep sigh, the remaining weeks until Boston overwhelming everything else in my mind. "Tell me about your day,"

Thanks for reading loves! How do ya feel about beck?

Shoutout to TheLittleLees - Three for the price of two, you say?? Thank you for all the support you've shown me! ❤️