Justin had put the kids to bed, he needed to figure out what to do. There was two ways to go; run or talk to Dino. Running wasn’t really an option. He didn’t have the money and if he did Tara could say he was kidnapping the kids. He only really had one choice, met with Dino. There was no way Blake wouldn’t tell him, even if he was no longer into the scene.

He should have known that everything was going too well. The other shoe was always going to drop. Now he had to protect his children. Just as he was planning his next move, the doorbell rang. His heart jumped in his throat, if it was Dino then he was probably going to kill him. Why else come this soon?

He peeked out the window and saw that it was Brian’s youngest son. What was he doing here so late? Opening the door, the boy looked even more nervous than he usually looked.

“Peter, what are you doing here so late?”

“I was wondering if…if I could talk to you?”

“Sure, come in. Does your dad know you’re here?”

“No, he’s working late. He does that a lot now.” The kid looked down at his sneakers. Justin noticed how old they were, Peter’s feet were busting out of the shoes.

“It’s hard work getting a business up and running. What was it that you needed?”

“I-I d-don’t know how to start,” the boy stuttered.

“Listen, let’s calm down. Would you like something to drink? How about tea?”

The boy looked down at his shoes again. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

Justin smiled. “Marshmallows or no?”

“Marshmallows, please.” He was such a polite little guy.

Justin went about making some hot chocolate, no instant crap in his home. His kids were a little picky when it came their comfort items. The boy sat silently at the table; Justin wondered what was so important that he needed to talk to someone he didn’t know very well. The chocolate was done, and he grabbed the marshmallows.

“We only have the big ones; I hope that’s alright?”

“I like them the best,” the boy smiled shyly.

They drank in silence for a while, Justin was letting the boy go at his own pace.

“Did you meet my Uncle Jack?”

“I did. He’s really nice.”

“I think so too; John and Gus don’t really know what to think of him, but I like him.”

“That’s good.”

“I got into the summer program, did Dad tell you?”

“No, that’s great. You’ll learn a lot if you try.”

“Yeah.” Alright so it wasn’t about his uncle or the program. What else could it be? School? Girls? Boys? Brian? “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever taken drugs?”

Oh hell, could he tap out now? This was so much above what he thought he’d be asked.

“Shouldn’t you be talking to your father about this?” The boy shook his head, looking at his half-empty cup. “Ok, yeah, in college I smoked pot but that was all I ever did.”

“My dad did too, he told us before because he wanted to be honest. He said he did stronger stuff too, but I don’t remember it all. How much drugs to you have to take to be addicted?”

“It’s not a certain amount. It’s when they need the drug just to function in their mind. I’m not really an expert in this field.”

“I don’t want him to get addicted,” Peter said quietly.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

Justin took a shot, the one that was always so angry and giving Brian so much problems lately. “Gus?”

Peter shocked him when he shook his head. “No, John, he says he doesn’t have a problem but he’s not like he used to be. I found this in his room,” the boy said before putting a small bag on the table. It reminded Justin of kits that people with diabetes kept. He opened it and closed his eyes. It was a kit for intravenous use, he couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure it was for drugs like Peter thought. Oh, god, what was he going to do?

“Where did you get this?”

“I found it in his room.”

“We have to tell your dad.” This wasn’t something they could just hoped got better. The boy’s shoulders sagged but he nodded. “Let me ask Molly to listen for the littles and I’ll walk you back over and we’ll talk to him together.”

Brian was just pulling into his garage when he noticed Justin walking over with Peter. It was late but not past his bedtime, he wondered what Peter was doing with him. He shut his garage door and went into the kitchen through the connecting door.

It wasn’t long until he heard the door and muffled voices. “Peter?” he yelled just loud enough to be heard from the kitchen.

“Hi Dad, how was work?”

“Fine, would have been better if my Art Director didn’t call out sick today,” he said, annoyance in his voice.

Justin at least had the decency to look abashed. It seemed he was on edge ever since the weekend. That wasn’t Brian’s problem though, what was his problem was that his son wasn’t making eye contact with him. He was looking down at his feet. Brian cringed when he saw him wearing shoes he had already outgrown. He had gotten him nice shoes just two weeks ago, but the kid complained they were too showy. God help him from his introverted son.

“Sorry about that. I’ll be at work bright and early in the morning. That’s not why I’m here though. Do you want to tell him or do I?” Justin asked, looking at the top of Peter’s head.

“Could you? Then it wouldn’t be like I was telling.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Peter found this in his brother’s room,” Justin said, handing over a little black zippered pouch.

“What is this?” he asked as he opened it. His heart sunk as he saw the needles and syringe. There were some other things like sterilizing wipes but those were the big things. Why would his child need this?”

“Gus?” he asked, his voice rough. Of course, it would be Gus, he was always giving him problems. Too much like himself.

“John,” Justin said. Brian couldn’t be more shocked if Justin would have said it was Nanette’s.

“Are you sure?” Not that he wanted it to be Gus, but this was so very unlike John.

Peter nodded his head. “I found it when I was looking to my sketchbook, he and Gus stole from me. It wasn’t in Gus’ room, so I looked in John’s. This was in a box under his bed with some other stuff.

“What other stuff?”

“I don’t know.”

“Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Justin. Peter go on up to your room.”

“Are you alright?” Justin asked as Peter ran upstairs.

“Ask me tomorrow, night.”

“Cut that shit out, if Dad finds out you’re dead,” John told Gus. They were in Gus’ room, but John was thinking about going back to his. Lately Gus was getting on his nerves more and more. He always seemed to think he was the only one getting harassed by assholes at school. He was at least a jock, only real idiots picked on him. He didn’t know what it was like to be the brain getting it from all sides. The ‘woe is me’ stuff was getting a little tired.

“Shut up,” Gus said. His cigarette smoke was making John sick.

Knocking at the door made them both jump up. Gus put the cigarette out and hid the ashtray under his bed. John grabbed the air fresher and sprayed until they both couldn’t breathe. “Open up,” their dad demanded.

John hesitated but finally opened the door. Once their dad walked in, they knew they weren’t successful covering up the smell. “What’s going on?” he asked his dad.

“Nothing except this room smells like cigarettes and sandalwood. Not a great mix, I gotta tell you.” He looked at Gus. “I’ll deal with you later. First, John, I need to talk to you in my office, now.”

That was bad…really bad. He only made them come to the office when they really fucked up. John looked at Gus, but he looked just as shocked as he was. Cigarettes were bad but this was a bit much. Hell, he hadn’t even been the one smoking.

Once he stepped into his dad’s office he wanted to turn around and run away. It wasn’t that he was scared of his dad, he just hated when he was disappointed in him.

“Sit,” his dad said, pointing at his couch.

“What’s this about?”

“I SAID SIT!” his father yelled. He sat and started to rethink never being afraid of him.

His dad started pacing in front of him, his hands kept balling up and then releasing. It was almost like his dad was fighting to control his temper. That never happened before, his dad wasn’t a saint, but he’d never seen him this angry before.

“Dad?”

“I’m not ready to speak to you yet.”

John wondered if he was allowed to play on his phone while his dad lost his ever-loving mind. His dad smoked every once in a while; he didn’t see the big deal. He smelled pot on him when he came home after going out with Uncle Mikey before. At least it wasn’t pot in the house, right?

“I have one question, and you better answer it truthfully. Are you using drugs?”

John blinked at his father, trying to process the question. Drugs? He had smoked pot a couple of times. Was that what all this was about? Some puffs on a joint at a party here and there.

“A few times. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal. You think shooting up isn’t a big deal? What in the fuck were you thinking?” he roared.

“Shooting up? I was talking about pot. Who said I’ve been shooting up?”

His dad stalked back to his desk, opened the top drawer and brought out a familiar black pouch. Oh fuck, this is what that was about? That was in his room though, that meant his dad snooped in his room. Talk about invasion of privacy.

“That was in my room. You were snooping?”

“No, Elisa found it while she cleaned. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry you don’t trust me. I’m sorry you jump to conclusions instead asking me in a calm, respectful voice. I’m sorry you are a hypocrite. You barely pay any attention to me and now when you do it’s because you think I’m some druggie? Peter’s the baby and needs extra attention. Gus is your real son and you care about him more, I get it. Sometimes it sucks to be the extra kid.”

He watched his father’s jaw tick. It was a tell he had that he was going to yell. But funnily enough, he didn’t even care anymore. His dad thought he was a drug user and didn’t really care about the truth. Standing up, he turned on his heal to leave.

“Don’t you dare walk out that door.”

“FYI, I give B-12 injections for people too scared to use needles on themselves. They’re all adults and know the risks. I always keep my kit near, and a new needle in case someone calls. Don’t believe me, call Michael or Ted or Emmett. Also, go fuck yourself.” He slammed the door behind him. Fuck him.

Brian stood there stunned at his son’s words and attitude. He had never felt closer to him than that moment. The thing with John, he may be pissed off at him but after he blows up, he’s done. Life goes on, unlike Gus. Of course, he’s never told him to go fuck himself. Maybe he should be mad about the mouth on him, but he never wanted his kids to not speak truthfully to him. He’d have to fix this ‘extra kid’ thoughts he was having.  

Fucking B-12 injections. He should have guessed it was something like that. John had never been secretive or jumpy, he was also just John. Maybe that had been his problem, he always just treated him like an extension of Gus because they were always together. John is a completely different person; he would straighten it out with him in the morning. For now, he was just going to bask in the fact that his child wasn’t a drug user. Well, except for some pot, that he didn’t know how to handle really because to punished him so long after the fact would be stupid, and John was right it would be hypocritical of him. Raising teenagers was hard, he wondered if Justin would like to trade.