8. PROTECTOR

"Timothy was always a bit different from other kids. He was always more quiet. But he was happy. He had friends and he loved to draw and read. He played piano... He really was a happy go lucky kid once he felt comfortable around ya." Joe's eyes brightened and he smiled at fond memories.

I looked at the picture inside the spiderweb frame on the table.

It was a picture of Timothy as a kid. I couldn't help but smile. He did look very happy. In this picture he was laughing with his dad's arm around his shoulder. His hair was golden blonde, his skin golden colored. There was a woman next to him as well. She looked a lot like him. Very pretty.

"That's his mom." Joe leaned over the table and looked at the picture. His smile faded away.

"Cynthia passed away almost three years ago. She was Tim's best friend. He loved her so much and as much as I like to deny it, she understood him much better than I ever could. So when she passed... Timothy fell into a depression. He became even more quiet. There was even a time where he refused to speak at all. He cried every day, he locked himself in his room, he.."

It was awful watching Joe this hurt. I wanted to comfort him but I didn't know how.

"He really stopped caring about everything. He stopped drawing.. For a while it seemed like it was him that had died. Not his mom. And then he.." Joe rubbed his forehead. Immeasurable amounts of pain flooded his eyes.

"He tried to take his own life.." Joe's tears fell on the table. He quickly wiped them away. "He'd used my razor blades to do it.." Joe covered his face. "I should've hidden them better. I knew he wasn't doing well!"

"Hey, it's not your fault!" I rose from my chair.

"I know! I know that but I can't let go of.. that image of him.. Bleeding from his wrists, his eyes closed.. That little boy, he was only thirteen!"

The only thing I could think to do was grab a tissue from the kitchen and hand it to him.

He wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

"I called the ambulance. They took him away and they saved him. I'd heard those stories of people surviving suicide attempts like.. jumping off the golden gate and things. How the second they leaped they regretted it and wanted to undo it. Not Timothy. When I came in the hospital and he opened his eyes and saw my face... I could see the confusion and then the disappointment.."

My eyes began to sting. I even got a little emotional hearing all this. How could Timothy ever do such a thing? I pinched my eyes.

"He went to a mental facility. He came back from that place a different person. He smiled more. But they weren't true smiles. Not like this," Joe pointed at the picture.

"He was overly polite. Overly apologetic and once again very, very quiet. He hardly moved. He only pretended when I was around but I could see him stare out of his window when he thought I wasn't looking. Just sitting and staring."

Joe sat next to me at the island table. "That went on until he was fourteen. I made sure to keep him busy. We were doing project after project. Then he began to listen to that dark music he likes and he told me about wanting to dye his hair and paint his nails and stuff. It scared the shit out of me. I was worried for him. About what people would say. I was worried some guys would get the wrong idea but I let him anyway. I was just happy he was even the slightest bit excited about something again." Joe laughed.

"That's why our house is like this. I told Timothy he could do whatever he wanted to our house so long as he stayed away from his arms. It gave him something to do. I didn't care if it looked ridiculous."

I smiled and looked around. That explained a lot.

"Although he wasn't suicidal anymore, he still wasn't the old Timmy. And then he met.. him." Joe sighed. "They met at some stupid concert and from that moment on it was 'Charlie this' and 'Charlie that'. I was against it. Not just because he was a guy, although that was enough to get used to.. he was so much older than little Timmy. But what could I do? For the first time in a long time I saw Timothy smile again. A real smile. A smile that can warm up a cold day." Joe smirked.

I could agree with that. I remembered the first day of school and how Timothy had smiled at Charlie. His smile was unusually radiant.

"I don't care what it is, I just want my baby to be happy. And if that's a six foot giant in eyeliner and a leather jacket then..so be it." Joe shrugged.

"He still isn't the old kid from the picture.. I don't think he'll ever be again. He doesn't like to eat. I constantly have to make him. We see our doctor every month for a checkup on his weight and mind and things.. He's not perfect but... he's happy. That counts for something, right?"

Wow. What a story. I mean, you have to be at least a little coo-coo to walk around looking like Timothy does but I never thought he was actually depressed. I thought of all the mean things I'd said to him and felt bad. Joe had worked so hard to make him happy and now I was ruining all that again. I didn't know what to say. What do you say to a hero?

"You're really cool, Joe." I smirked. It was dumb but I couldn't think of another way to put it.

Joe looked surprised first. Then he laughed. "Thanks, kid."

He went up to the stove and turned off the fire.

He took the lid off the pot and poured some soup into a bowl.

"Here, bring this up to Tim, will ya?"

✪

I walked up the stairs quietly for some reason. I held Timothy's bowl in one hand and mine in the other.

I was nervous. Again. Now that I knew all this stuff about him, it felt like I had to be extra careful around him. To make sure I wasn't the one to fuck everything up.

I opened the door with my elbow and went inside his room.

He lay on the bed, reading. I smirked and thought of 'little Timmy' from Joe's story.

"I got you some soup." I came over to his bed.

Timothy sat up and put his book away.

"Thanks." He mumbled. He didn't look very excited. I handed him his bowl and sat next to him on the bed.

"Aren't you going downstairs to eat meat and stuff?" Timothy asked, playing with the green sludge in the bowl.

"Nah, I'm here to make sure you actually eat this."

"Great." Timothy said sarcastically.

As I watched him I realized he was wearing wristbands. I wondered if they were there to cover his scars.

"What?" Timothy asked.

I looked into his eyes again.

"What?" I asked,

"You were staring-"

"I can look wherever I want." I said quickly before taking five massive sips.

Timothy raised his eyebrows. Then he chuckled. "You're a lot weirder than I thought you were."

"And you're a lot more annoying- actually, no. I knew you were annoying from the start." I shrugged.

Timothy took a sip from his soup. "What's so annoying about me?" He said neutrally.

"For one, how slow you eat."

"How is that your business?" Timothy challenged.

"Well, I have to watch it. I'm suffering over here!"

"Yeah, that's true suffering, watching someone eat slowly."

"Exactly!"

Timothy chuckled and took an exaggerated slow bite.

I pushed the spoon into his mouth.

"Stop it!" He laughed. After Joe's story I understood how rare it was to see him laugh. I didn't want it to end.

I put Timothy's bowl aside and practically pounded on top of him.

"Ow! What are you doing?!"

I began to tickle him and soon enough his musical laughs filled the room and warmed my heart. I wasn't holding back one bit and Timothy's lame attempts to push me away even cracked me up.

"What the fuck?" I immediately recognized Charlie's voice from his accent.

I got off Timothy ready for Charlie's inevitable whining.

Timothy noticed the worried look on Charlie's face.

"Char, it's fine, we were just -"

"Totally making out." I said just to piss Charlie off. I began eating my soup again.

"Josh," Timothy protested. "He's kidding."

"Are you? Or is that what you really want to do?" Charlie approached me. "I mean, it explains why you hate gays so much. You probably are one-"

"Hey, watch it!" I got up ready to punch his lights out.

"Aw, did that hit a nerve?"

"Guys, stop!" Timothy got in between us. As much as I hated Australia over here, I couldn't hurt him. At least not in front of Timothy and especially not after the story his dad told me.

"Did he do anything to you?" Charlie asked.

"He didn't do anything, I promise. He just brought me home." Timothy nearly begged.

Fangs bit his lip in deliberation. He took a breath. His piercing eyes softened. He kissed Timothy's forehead (he had to bend down to do it) and held him in his arms.

"Damn you and your kind heart." Charlie muttered.

I rolled my eyes and turned away.

I sat on the bed.

"Why are you still here?" Charlie asked.

"Haven't you heard? I'm his new protector. I protect, I get free meat." I smirked.

Vampire boy was not amused.

"He's kidding." Timothy clarified.

Can't emo doof pick up on basic social ques?

Charlie gazed lovingly into Timothy's eyes then he leaned down and kissed him.

I looked away so I wouldn't barf.

Charlie pulled away and looked at me. "I think your dinner's ready."

"So that's your way of telling me to get lost so you two can get laid? Not a chance, plus Timothy still needs to finish his soup."

Timothy wriggled out of his boyfriend's massive arms.

"It's cold now, though, isn't it?" He said.

"I'll heat it up." I insisted.

"You know what? I'm taking you out, come on." Charlie took Timothy's hand and pulled him out of the room. I quickly followed.

"He needs to eat." I insisted more so because I didn't want them going anywhere alone. I was sure Charlie would take this moment to do all kinds of perverted shit to him.

"I'll make sure he eats." Charlie said over his shoulder. He looked like a happy puppy, I could practically see him wagging his tail.

Horn Dog.

"Mr. N, we're taking off. Deuces!" Charlie speedily stuck his head in the door before continuing to drag Timothy down the hallway.

"Wow, wow, wow, hold on!" Joe came into the hallway. "Who said you could take him?"

Literally.

"Oh, we're just going to get something to eat and probably hang out at mine for a while." Charlie said speedily like he wasn't doing something completely out of place.

"That's not what I asked. You can't just come in here and take my son like it's no big deal and- are your parents even home?"

"Uh.. yeah.. I think so." Charlie answered. He was totally lying. Needless to say I was enjoying this way too much.

"Well, I'm already making dinner and I think Timothy should stay here."

"Why? You know we're together, we need alone time!" Charlie insisted.

"To do what?" Joe asked pointedly.

"To.. talk."

I snorted.

"You shut up!" Charlie snapped.

"Not tonight. I'm sorry but it's been a long day and I think Timmy should stay here and eat what I make him for once!" Joe insisted.

"Please, dad?" Timothy begged. "I promise I'll be home by ten."

I could see Joe wavering. Who could resist those eyes?

Joe glanced at me.

"What time did he come home last time he went away with him?" I mumbled.

Charlie gave me a quick push.

"Hey, hey!" Joe held Charlie away.

"He has a point there. The last time you came home twenty minutes late."

"It was during summer break, dad."

"Not tonight." Joe insisted and he went back into the kitchen.

Charlie shot daggers at me. He sighed like an angry teen in a bad movie.

"I'll see you tomorrow, kay?" Charlie said lovingly to his boyfriend. "Walk me out?"

Timothy smiled and together they went outside. I didn't even have to open the curtain to know they were making out.

"How do you do it?" I whined as I walked into the kitchen.

"What?"

"Not strangle Charlie every chance you get. That guy is impossible." I sat at the kitchen island.

"Yeah he's.. strange. I definitely don't want to leave them alone. Before I know it he takes Timmy's virginity at fifteen years old-"

"Wait, he's fifteen?!"

"You didn't know? He skipped a grade."

"What the fuck?! That's like early pedophilia!"

"Lower your voice..! They can hear you!"

"Good! How are you okay with this!"

"You know I'm not. I'm just not gonna do anything to rock the boat now. He's finally happy and I want to keep it that way."

We heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Timothy?" Joe called.

Soon enough Timothy walked into the kitchen. He lingered by the wall. "Yes, dad?"

"Dinner."

"Kay." Timothy sat down at the kitchen table next to me.

His cheeks were rosy and he looked satisfied. I couldn't ignore the irritation that made me feel.

"Had a nice make-out with the guy twice your age?"

"That again?" Timothy said.

"Yeah, I just heard you're only fifteen!"

"So?"

"So, can't you see how fucked up this is?!"

"I'm mature for my age."

"He's immature, you mean! No sane nineteen year old would date someone in high school, oh wait! He is still in high school!"

Timothy placed his head on the table and groaned.

"Look, you've done your job. I'm home safe and you're getting your meat so.."

"So butt out?!"

"...Yeah. Pretty much." Timothy nodded.

I patted his back. "Not a chance."

We had our (fantastic) dinner. Joe and I had spent most of the time raving about football while Timothy worked hard to finish his meal. While Joe and I ate dessert, Timothy was still trying to swallow the divine cut of steak.

After dinner Joe and I had watched a game. It was time for me to go home now but in all honesty I didn't want to. This house was cozier than my own, despite all the sadness Tim and his dad had been through. My house was either empty or filled by the shell of the man my dad used to be.

I stood by the door and deliberated whether or not I should ask to stay over. Timothy was already in his room, probably sexting with his boyfriend.

"Josh," Joe grabbed my shoulder. "I just.." He stared at the floor for a moment. "I want to thank you for looking out for Timmy. He acts tough but he's.."

He acts tough?

"He's a lot more sensitive than would appear."

"No kidding." I answered.

"I'm glad you're there for him and.. I like having you around so.. Don't be afraid to swing by whenever you want, alright?" Joe's eyes prodded into mine. I felt like he knew things weren't going great at home. Though he said nothing about it.

"Thanks, Joe. I appreciate it." He had no idea how much so.

Joe patted my shoulder and we said our goodbyes.

On the way home I got a text from Jennifer.

Friday. Tony's. U n Me.

I stopped in my tracks. It was strange. I wasn't excited. I was glad to go out with her again. Glad she still wanted to. Honored, was a better word. But I wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

I looked up at Timothy's window. He was staring outside. He caught me looking at him. He waved. I waved back.