The truck pulled into a service station and the driver looked over at Hunter.

"I need to take a piss, and I'm going to grab a coffee," the man said.

"Okay," Hunter replied.

"Listen, I'm not leaving you in here by yourself. You have to get out."

"I won't touch anything," Hunter promised. He just wanted to stay put. Maybe he could doze off while the guy was gone. He wanted to ride to Harrisburg.

"I'm sure you're the most upstanding citizen on the face of the Earth, but I've learned the hard way. Get out."

Hunter looked at the driver and decided he better do as the man said. There was no point in antagonizing him. "Sure," Hunter said opening the door. "Can I wait for you to come out and ride the rest of the way?"

"Yeah, I guess," the driver said slowly as he locked his rig. "Go take a piss. I don't intend to stop anywhere else."

"Right," Hunter said as the man strode away.

Hunter looked around the lot seeing many other trucks and an occasional driver leaning against his rig having a smoke. Hunter sized them up with world weary eyes. One guy over to his left was definitely interested. Hunter debated earning himself a little extra money. He didn't have a whole lot with him. The man watched Hunter and then crushed his cigarette with the heel of his boot. He started towards the teenager.

Suddenly Hunter felt the weight of all those years he had spent as a hustler, a prostitute. He watched the burly driver approach. He knew the type all too well. The man gave every impression of being a macho redneck. He probably had a wife and five kids at home. But that didn't stop him from loving boy ass. Hunter trembled slightly. He didn't want to do this anymore.

"Hey, kid," the burly man said to him.

"What?" Hunter responded trying to sound confident and sure of himself, even though he felt so weak and vulnerable at the moment.

"I need to get my dick sucked. Know anyone who might be able to do that for me?" the man asked with a lewd grin. Just as Hunter knew this type of man, the guy obviously recognized Hunter for what he was too.

"No," Hunter replied. "No, I don't."

"I think I see just the boy for the job," the driver said placing a hand on each side of Hunter's head and pressing against the boy so that he was trapped against the side of the big rig.

"I … I don't do that anymore," Hunter managed to get out. His heart was racing so fast he could hardly hear himself above the pounding of the blood in his ears.

"Not even for fifty bucks? Not even for me?" the man asked grinning in Hunter's face and pressing his hardness against Hunter's groin.

Hunter felt a sliver of fear creep up his spine. He thought he had left all this behind him, but now he was right back in it. Panic reared its ugly head and he tried to duck under the man's arms. He just wanted to escape. The driver grabbed his jacket and pressed him back against the rig.

"I want my dick sucked and I want it now. I'm prepared to pay. Don't make me take what I want." The threat was very clear and Hunter knew he had to get away.

Suddenly a smile played across Hunter's lips and the man looked at him strangely. "You can have it, buddy, if … if you're not afraid of HIV," Hunter said enjoying the change of expression on the man's face. It went from lust to fear in a fraction of a second.

"What … what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I have HIV. Maybe you'd like to have it too."

The man was clearly unsure what to do after Hunter's declaration. Hunter felt the grip on his jacket relax and he yanked away freeing himself from the man's grasp. The guy glared at Hunter and then without warning a fist connected with Hunter's face. Hunter went down with a gasp and lay senseless on the ground.

"Fucking infected slut!" the driver screamed at him before he headed back to his rig. He peeled out of the lot moments later thankful that he would not be bringing HIV into his house when he got home to his wife. He'd screw her into the mattress and then maybe he would feel better. He couldn't believe that fucking little asshole hustler that he had almost hooked up with.

Hunter lay semi-conscious on the passenger side of the big rig. He was surrounded by other trucks and no one noticed him as some drivers came and went. Nobody paid any attention if they did notice. Finally the driver of the rig he had ridden in on returned, carrying the remnants of his coffee. He looked around wondering where his passenger had got to. He climbed into the cab and took another glance around. The teenage rider was nowhere to be seen. He started the truck and slowly pulled out of the yard. The kid would have to find another way to get where he was going.

Dust and gravel flew around Hunter as the truck pulled away. He groaned and rolled over opening his eyes slowly. He rubbed his jaw which hurt like hell. He hoped it wasn't broken, but he seemed to be able to open it and move it around. He bet he would have one hell of a bruise in a day or two. He sat up slowly realizing the truck he was hoping to ride in was no longer beside him.

"Fuck!" he said out loud.

With a lot of effort he managed to get to his feet. He needed to get something cold to put on his jaw. Staggering a little bit he made his way to the pop machine outside the truck stop. He put in the required change and got a can of Coke. He pressed it against his jaw and breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed to numb the pain. He leaned against the Coke machine wondering what he was going to do next.



*****



"Mmm, dinner was great. Thanks."

"You're welcome. You in the mood for some coffee or tea?"

"No. John, if you don't mind, I'm gonna head up to bed. I'm feeling a little tired."

"Baby, you're too young to be tired but go on. Take a warm shower. You'll feel better. I'm going to make a plate for my mother and clean up the kitchen. I'll be up soon."

"Sounds good."

*****



"Bobby, you asleep?"

"No, just resting. I love how quiet it is. You know, one of the new partners was looking for a roommate to share his apartment in Harrisburg. I considered it for two seconds. It would be so convenient. I'd be home in fifteen minutes instead of an hour. But then this farm has way too many advantages over a city apartment."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Our nice big bed in our nice quiet room. Your warm comfortable home."

"Our warm comfortable home."

"Our home and of course, you. I missed you during my last year at Penn. I wouldn't mind crashing at Charles' place once in a while, especially if we had an important case. But I couldn't stand five nights away from you. I love you, John."

"I love you too, baby. Did you call your mother?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"This Thursday evening at about seven. That should give me time to get home, shower and change. My sister and her husband with their kids will be there too. And you're invited. Thursday's your home office day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. And I'll be happy to go with you. You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents dearly. They're really good people. I just can't get over the feeling that I've disappointed them by not being normal."

"You mean straight."

"Yes."

"Bobby, have you given them a chance to know you? To understand what it's like to be gay?"

"What are you talking about? When I came out, I went to them first. John, we live in a small town, everybody knows everyone's business."

"That's not what I mean. When we met that night, not the night you rescued me, that first night with Brian and Justin, when I went home I had sort of an epiphany. Seeing those two dance together, hearing them fucking through the walls, I wanted you. I wasn't turned off by the idea of being with you, scared shitless, but by no means turned off. Who do you think I spoke with first thing the next morning?"

"Brian?"

"No, my mother. Her first thoughts were for my safety and then she hoped that I would find someone who would complete me like Brian and Justin complete each other. We had a wonderful talk. It made me appreciate just how lucky I really am. Bobby, try to talk with them. Give them a chance to know you, all of you. And as for them thinking you won't give them grandchildren, I'll wow them with pictures of Gus. Show them that in this day and age anything is possible. If Brian Kinney can become a real dad, so can we. I'll charm the pants off them. Bobby, listen to me, life has a way of running away from you. You can sit there and watch it run or you can chase it and take charge of it. I can't believe you'd back down from a challenge and I'll be right there with you."

"John..."

"Shush, go to sleep. Everything will look clearer in the morning. I promise."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

As John and Bobby were going to bed, Hunter was sitting at a picnic table off to one side of the truck stop. He had the can of Coke pressed against his face, but most of the cold had been absorbed into his aching jaw. He popped the pull tab on the can and took a drink of the slightly warm liquid.

His fucking life was for shit! He had decided to leave Pittsburgh knowing that Ben and Michael would be angry and hurt, but knowing that he could never live up to their expectations of him. Now he couldn't even get himself a couple of hundred miles away without getting beaten up. He rubbed his jaw gingerly. It did feel a little better. Maybe he should go into the restroom and take a look at it in the mirror. He drank the rest of his Coke and stood up.

With legs that felt stronger beneath him than they had a while ago, he made his way to the restroom. In the mirror he could make out the beginnings of what would become quite a nasty bruise. He threw some cold water on his face as he heard the door behind him open.

A middle aged man walked in and proceeded to piss at one of the urinals. Hunter eyed him warily. The guy looked harmless enough. When he finished peeing he came up beside Hunter and started washing his hands.

"You okay, son?" he asked frowning as he dried his hands.

"I'm not your son," Hunter retorted in an angry voice.

"Whoa," the man said raising his hands. "It was just a question."

"Sorry, but some asshole eighteen wheeler jock just punched me in the jaw."

"What for?" the man asked looking more closely at Hunter's bruise.

"He wanted my ass, but I wasn't prepared to sell it."

"Hm," the man replied studying the young fellow in front of him. "I have no designs on your ass, but you're welcome to ride with me if I'm going your way."

"Where are you headed?"

"Philadelphia."

"I … um … I wanted to go to Harrisburg," Hunter said trying to decide if he should accept the offer and just go anywhere to get away from here.

"I could let you off not too far from Harrisburg," the driver offered feeling sorry for the kid.

"Okay, sure, thanks," Hunter said feeling safe around this man.

A few minutes later they were ensconced in the cab of the big rig. Hunter placed his pack against the door and leaned wearily against it. The driver smiled.

"You look like you could use some sleep," he said.

"Yeah."

"Feel free to doze off. I'll let you know when we get near Harrisburg."

"Thanks," Hunter replied scrunching up against the door and leaning his head on his pack.

"Have you got someone waiting for you in Harrisburg?"

"Not exactly," Hunter said as he drifted off.

The driver was about to ask something else when Hunter's steady breathing told him that the boy was already asleep. "I wonder what your story is," the driver whispered as he picked up speed after entering the highway.

Hunter was in the kitchen of Ben and Michael's house. He was eating a huge bowl of Cap'n Crunch. It was warm and safe and nice. He could see Ben and Michael looking at him … smiling. If only that was all there was to it.

Suddenly Hunter found himself in gym class at his high school. They were playing murder ball. Everyone had a ball except him. They all started winging their balls … at him. He dodged the first one but the next one caught him in the back of the head. The school jocks encircled him, taunting him, calling him names. He heard them saying, "Faggot, hustler, bastard, fucking AIDS!" He covered his ears with his hands and tried not to hear. The balls kept coming at him, hitting him, hurting almost as much as the words. He kept turning, spinning away from the onslaught, but it was impossible. The words and the stinging balls came with desperate regularity.

Hunter moaned and whimpered in his sleep. He felt a hand reach out and shake him. He tried to back away but the hand shook him harder. He opened his eyes with a start.

"Hey, the exit for Harrisburg is coming up. If you want to go there, you'll have to get out."

"Um, yeah," Hunter said uncertainly. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his head. Why couldn't everybody just leave him alone?

"Here we are," the truck driver said pulling off to the side of the road.

"Thanks," Hunter called as he hopped down.

The driver waved and gunned the engine heading back onto the road. Hunter watched him go. He looked around. He might as well start walking until he found someplace safe to sleep for the rest of the night. He hoped he could sleep without those dreams. An involuntary shudder swept through him. He had no idea what he would say if he got to his destination. All he knew was that he had to give it a try. It was either that or go back to the streets and he didn't think he would survive that again.