Chapter 18: Choose.

Chapter 18

~Michael~

Timmy latched on to my leg the moment I unlocked the front door and stepped into the house.

"Hey buddy." I dropped my keys in the tray by the door and picked him up.

When I looked at him he was frowning at me; his mouth turned down in a miserable pout and his eyes narrowed in accusation.

"Alright, what did I do?" I asked, stepping further into the room.

"Micha no come." He said finally.

"But I'm here now. I'm sorry. How was your day?" I questioned and while he still looked at me with suspicion, he decided to vacate the topic of my absence...at least for now.

"Daddy no let Timmy pay." He said and I looked at the toy-covered floors that certainly hadn't been that way when I'd left this morning, then I looked at him.

"But it looks like you played all day Timmy. Where's daddy?"

He pointed to the kitchen and I followed his direction.

"Daddy dirty." He told me seriously.

"He is?" I asked him. "How come?"

"I no know." He replied, just before wrapping his arms around my head and kissing me squarely on the eyelid and I felt a warmth blossom in my chest. It was the moments like this that made me pause and think about how far I'd come with these two; father and son.

I reached up and ruffled his curls and he dropped his head onto my shoulder, before sticking his favorite fingers into his mouth.

I carried him with me into the kitchen, just in time to see Jason enter through the back door as filthy as Timmy had said. He was shirtless and sweating and I watched in appreciation as he wiped his palms on the shirt he held. When he looked up and saw me he froze for a fraction of a second, before he sighed in what I could only describe as relief.

"You're here." He said as though surprised by that fact, then just as quickly, gestured to the door. "The patio's pretty much done."

"Yeah? I thought it would take a week more at least."

He shrugged. "I just have a little bit more to do." He said and I noticed how he fought not to meet my eyes, instead turning his attention on Timmy, who was watching him without a word.

"You tired?" he asked his son and to my surprise, Timmy turned his head away from him.

"Hey." I nudged him gently." Daddy's talking to you." I told him, but he didn't budge.

"He's mad at me 'cause I didn't let him play in the dirt."

Ah...that would explain the 'daddy no let Timmy pay' rant he'd had going earlier.

"But big boys don't play in the dirt. Aren't you a big boy?" I asked him and when he looked at me it was with a frown.

"No."

I chuckled. "Then what are you?"

"Timmy."

I laughed. "Is that what you are?" and I tickled him causing him to giggle and squirm in my arms.

"No Micha!" he protested in a fit of giggles and when I had mercy on him and finally looked at Jason, it was to see him watching us; his expression unreadable.

"Everything okay?"

His eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought he wouldn't say a word, but then he shrugged and walked past me. "I'm gonna shower."

Timmy and I watched him cross the room and as he exited the kitchen I came to the conclusion that he was still upset with me.

I took a breath, then turned by attention back to the little guy. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"He just ate something!" Jason shouted from upstairs and Timmy's frown deepened.

"How about a snack?" I whispered conspiratorially and when he nodded I got the distinct impression that he knew this would be our little secret.

When I turned and bent, intent on setting him down before the fridge, his arms tightened around my neck and he wrapped his legs as tight as he could around me.

"Don't you want to choose what you want?" I asked him as he fought to keep his hold.

"Alright, here." I straightened and opened the fridge and he peered into it and made his decision.

"Gwape."

"Grapes?"

"Gwape." He nodded and I pulled out the container in which they were stored. When I handed it to him, he took it with both hands and I reached back in to pull out his water bottle.

By the time I'd closed the fridge and carried him out the door and into the family room, he'd already dropped a trail of grapes onto the floor and messed up his white shirt.

"Timmy watch?" he asked, pointing to the TV as we sat.

"What do you want to watch" I picked up the remote and flipped it on.

One thing I'd learned about Timmy was that when it came to his cartoons he was very picky. I'd once spent fifteen minutes flipping through channels at his command until I found one he was comfortable with.

When I flipped to the first one he shook his head; the juices from the grapes running down his chin and staining his shirt.

I sighed. "Remember Popy?" I asked him and he paused."

"Popy?"

"Yeah, he gave me a surprise for you, do you want to see it?" I asked with exaggerated excitement and whether or not he understood what I was saying, he grinned, showing dimples and teeth.

"Popy come?" he asked, craning his neck to see out into the empty hall.

"No, but he gave me something just for you. I'll go get it, just wait right-" I began, but he latched on to my arm as I shifted him from my lap with the intent to stand, so I picked him up— grape bowl and all and carried him with me to the door where I retrieved my keys, and then to the car to get the big green gift bag.

While I carried it and Timmy back up the pathway and into the house, he tried unsuccessfully to peer in.

Since the time I walked through the door, he'd clung to me refusing to let go but when I reentered the family room and deposited the bag onto the floor, he was sliding out of my arms, handing me his grapes and moving to stand over his prize.

When he reached in and pulled out the first plastic tool I reached for my phone to video call my dad. He answered on the first ring and I turned the screen to Timmy.

"Hey Timmy tell Popy thanks." I told him and when he looked up and saw dad on the screen, it was as if Christmas had come early; or in his case, as if bunny had come to life.

"Popy." He said, waving the long plastic hammer.

"What'd you got there son?" dad asked, leaning back in his oversized office chair with a satisfied grin on his face.

"Good quaty?" Timmy asked him and he laughed; a deep belly laugh that was so contagious Timmy laughed with him.

"Of course it's good quality." Dad said with amusement. "I picked it out myself."

And Timmy pulled out another tool and another and another and pretty soon, they were having a long senseless discussion about tools and toys and before long Timmy had showed him almost all the toys in the room.

"...es Bunny." Timmy introduced the stuffed rabbit, shaking him so his long floppy ears jumped to the motion.

"Yeah I remember that one. I bet that's your favorite huh?"

"No." was his immediately reply, before he reached over to steal a grape from the container I held.

"You sure about that? It looks more raggedy than all the toys you've shown me so far." Dad continued and it was a wonder he had the patience to carry on a conversation with Timmy.

Twenty minutes we'd sat here and we'd already witnessed him turn down a call from his secretary just so he could listen to Timmy's gibberish.

"Daddy no let Timmy pay." He said at random then and my dad's brows creased.

"Pay for what?

"He means play dad." I interpreted.

"Ah...why doesn't he want you to play?"

"Cause daddy say no Timmy." Was his reasoning and dad nodded in understanding.

"Well kid, sometimes dad's just know what's good for you and sometimes you just gotta stop fighting it and listen." He said and I got the distinct impression that the old man was talking to me.

I shook my head.

"No."

Dad laughed. "You're just like Michael."

"Popy no let Micha leave"

"He won't be going anywhere. He's staying with you all week." He said seriously and again; I shook my head.

"No let Micha leave." Timmy repeated and I picked him up from his perch on the ground and pulled him into the couch with me, where I let him spread out on top of me on his back so we could both look at the screen comfortably."

"Alright buddy. I'll make sure of it." He said and Timmy stuck his finger into his mouth.

"You hear that Michael?" dad addressed me for the first time. "You have people depending on you now. Those two boys are your responsibility because you made them your responsibility and choosing to put yourself in danger, whether it's your job or not, affects them too."

"Don't try to play the saint dad. You did it for years. Why is this any different?"

"Yeah I did, and it took me too long to realize what it was doing to my family, but when I did I quit the field."

"Are you telling me to quit now? Because if you—"

"I'm telling you to think about those boys and what they need. You chose them so now you gotta live with it."

"Doing my job won't prevent me from looking out for them."

"No, but it will damn well make them worry. What did you tell me the day I quit field work?"

"Damn" Timmy repeated.

"No, you say darned remember?" was my dad's quick reply and Timmy frowned.

I began to shake my head, then froze. I thought about the years of sitting at the top of those stairs waiting for him to come home every night and worrying myself silly when he didn't. I thought about my mom handing me hot chocolate before lowering herself beside me so we could wait together and how my sister would sneak into my parents room in the early hours of the morning just to make sure he'd come home safe the night before.

Then I pictured Timmy and Jason doing the exact same thing and I closed my eyes.

"You see how this will play out don't you?" dad interrupted the silence and Timmy reached up and took the phone from me, holding it closer to his face.

"I've wanted this job my whole life." I told him softly and I watched him shrug.

"No one's telling you to quit the job you love Michael. I just want you to know that your decisions affect everyone around you; whether or not you have good intentions." he explained. "That's what happens when you have a family; they have to factor into your choices too."

I glanced up when Jason entered the room, his hair damp and a towel slung over his shoulder.

When Timmy saw him, he rolled and dropped the phone onto my chest before sliding to the ground to go to him.

"Ah keen now?" he asked him and Jason picked him up with a grin."

"You talking to me now?"

"No."

"You tired?"

"No."

"Ready for a bath?"

Finally Timmy nodded and as I watched them exit the room; Timmy babbling as he went and I felt a warmth bloom in my chest.

"Dad I'll call you in the morning alright?"

"You do that." He said. "Tell the kid I'll talk to him later." And a moment later the line went dead.

I thought about the parents who would soon be expected to identify their son's body at the morgue and the kids standing over his lifeless body with weapons in hand. Then I thought about Jason's horrified expression as he crouched there with me in the bushes and I ran a hand over my face. My dad was right. Doing my job was one thing, but consciously putting myself in harm's way went beyond that; even if I was doing it for the right reasons. I thought about what would happen to Jason and Timmy if something happened to me.

I knew without a doubt that my mother would see to their needs and dad would too, if only to appease her, but at the end of the day, there was no telling what Jason would do. He was as unpredictable as the rain, but something told me he would take Timmy and go. Maybe back to living as they used to; I didn't know.

I thought about the girl kneeling by the side of her fallen friend and how her screams had been tragic and unnatural in the quiet woodland, and finally I thought about the agents my dad had put in charge of the case. They were damn good at their jobs. They were men I trusted and men who cared that a child had been killed.

They were good, but maybe I thought I could do better, or maybe I thought I had something to prove after being out of commission so long. Or maybe...maybe it was because I'd knelt there and watched them talking over the body of someone they'd just gunned down and I'd felt helpless. Maybe I blamed myself for letting them get away.

I didn't know what it was, but there was an almost overwhelming urge to do something.

I looked at the toys scattered over the floor and the half eaten bowl of grapes sitting on the carpet. I looked at the dictionary lying on the edge of the coffee table and the disorganized books on the shelf. I listened to Timmy's muffled words as his father ran his bath upstairs and I heard Jason's quiet footfalls on the floor above. I thought of my job and I thought of my boys and I decided that they both mattered to me. They were both important, but at the end of the day those two upstairs; my family, meant much more to me.

I stood and bent to retrieve the grapes. On my way to the kitchen, I turned out the lights and after I'd replaced the container in the fridge, I made my way up the stairs.

I could do my job without searching out every risky situation that came about. I could do my job and I could love my boys.

Sometimes my dad could be a damn fool, but mom was right, this time he knew best.

..............................................................

Minutes later when I pushed open the door of the bathroom, they both glanced up at me. Timmy was seated in the bathwater; his hair soapy and sticking every which way and his toys were floating around him.

"Can we talk?" I asked him and Jason looked away.

"When he's asleep." He said with a ring of finality and Timmy frowned up at him.

"No seep."

"Too bad."

"No bad." He retorted and Jason continued shampooing his hair without a word. I leaned against the wall and watched them. Father and son in these simple domesticated roles had me craving them more.

Jason had his curls pulled back from his face with a shoe lace and for whatever reason, the sight of him like that turned me on.

"I understand why you're upset." I spoke and he cut me a look that told me just what he thought of that admission.

"Let's just wait 'till Timmy's asleep and then we can talk about...whatever."

"Daddy no seep."

"What's it matter if we talk now or when he's asleep?" I questioned in frustration and he shook his head.

"Exactly."

So rather than argue I stood and waited for him to finish Timmy's bath and brush his teeth, then when he'd forced him into his pajamas and had him tucked away into bed, I sat in the armchair and watched them.

Jason had turned out the light so that the only illumination came from the kid's nightlight across the room. They were in bed; Timmy wrapped nice and snug under the sheets and Jason curled around him as they sang their ABC's. I'd learned that it was the quickest way to put Timmy to sleep and after about the third time around, his eyes drooped one last time and he was out.

I sat in the silence and watched them for a while. Jason stayed like that; holding his sleeping son for another fifteen minutes, before he finally pushed up from the bed and padded across the carpet.

His eyes caught mine briefly before he exited and after a quick glance at his son, I followed him out of the room and into the hallway; closing the door behind me as I went.

He took a few steps down the hall before stopping to lean against the wall, with his arms crossed before him.

When I approached him, he tried to move away, but I trapped him with a hand on his hips.

"Im not...don't..." he protested and I looked away from his torso and into his flushed face. He was frowning, but the desire I saw in his eyes was enough for me to lean into him, pressing the lower half of our bodies together. He sucked in a breath and I pulled his arms apart.

"Don't what?" I whispered and he blushed red, but when I leaned in to take his lips, he turned his head away.

"You said..." he swallowed. "You said you wanted to talk so..." He swallowed again. "I just wanna talk."

When I reached up to pull the lace from his hair he froze, and when I ran my hands slowly down his neck his pulse quickened.

"You sure about that?"

It took him a minute, but eventually he nodded and I backed away; but only a little.

"My dad said something to me today that made me realize that I've been selfish." I began and he finally glanced at me. "I've been making decisions as if I'm still a single man living alone." I explained and he frowned.

"You are a single man." He said, his voice shaking with uncertainty.

"You know that's not true."

He shook his head. "I don't know anything."

I reached and cupped his cheek. "You know I don't want anyone else." I told him and again he shook his head.

"No." he protested and his words sounded weak with desperation.

"You know what you mean to me Jason."

"I don't." he said. "Please don't do this." And placed his palms flat against my chest, intent on pushing me away. I grabbed his wrists.

"You know I'm yours." I said seriously. "I'm yours." He tried to pull away. "I love you." I told him, meaning every word as I tried to meet his eyes.

"You can't." he whispered brokenly and I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.

"Why not?"

"Because... you just can't." he pleaded miserably and rather than trying to form words that couldn't really express what I was feeling, I leaned in and took his lips.

He didn't protest after that; even as I pressed him into the wall and ran my hands over his body. Even as I suckled his neck and left my mark and even when I led him into my bedroom and lifted him onto the bed.

He only watched me with heat in his eyes as I climbed on top of him and took his lips again.

Moments later I stripped him, spread his legs and fucked him.

When it was over, he fell asleep in my arms.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

SORRY FOR THE WAIT GUYS, UNFORTUNATELY, WRITING THREE BOOKS AT THE SAME TIME ISN'T AS SIMPLE AS I'D THOUGHT IT WOULD BE.

THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME AND I'M DEFINITELY WORKING TO UPLOAD FASTER. FEEL FREE TO CHECK OUT A COUPLE OF MY OTHER WORKS; DOMINANCE AND SUBMISSION(IF YOU'RE INTO TASTEFUL BDSM) AND A VAMPIRE'S MARINE ON MY PROFILE.

THANKS FOR READING.

KEEP SWEET!

-DoUbLe.A

-unedited.