For the seventh time in as many minutes, John's cell phone rang out, waking both he and Peter. He didn't want to answer it, knowing who it was even without looking at the Caller ID. It was the same person it was the first morning after he went missing along with the previous night's target. The first few times, he left a simple voicemail: ‘The boss wants to see you,' but the last few days there were calls and text messages... threatening text messages. And not only against him but his mom. It was also apparent they had figured out his connection to Peter based on the other messages. They were looking for them. How much time did they have before they discovered where they were hiding and his connection to Brian Kinney, bringing the trouble to his uncles' door? Sure Brian had enough money to hire guards but there was no guarantee that they would keep breathing.

"John, you have to answer them. They won't stop calling if you don't," Peter counseled.

"They won't stop calling even if I do, Little Brother. What the fuck did I get myself into?"

"Trouble," Peter answered succinctly. "But running from it isn't going to get any of us out of it."

John looked at him as if he'd gone crazy over night. "Do you have a death wish or something? Do you know what they planned to do to you?"

"Yes, John. I have a pretty good idea since they drugged me. But I will not stop living my life. I will not hide anymore. I hid being gay from you and look at what has happened?"

"That's different and you know it."

"Do I?" Peter asked. "From where I'm sitting, this whole mess started because I didn't tell you. You joined a fucking homophobic gang, for Christ sake, hell-bent on torturing and murdering people for what? Not liking pussy? For not liking dick? For going against some fake ass, pre-ordained order of nature according to who? I believe in God as much as the anyone with a true vocation, John but I know who I am; who I've always been. I've known from the time I was five. I knew when I fucked Nathaniel Simkins in the locker room when he begged me to do it."

"Wait. The star football player at school begged you to fuck him? That's..."

"Yeah, he did. And I did. And that's the way of it. Did you or anyone else think any less of him because he liked my dick up his ass? No he was still a fucking hero. How about Drew Boyd? Do you think any less of him because he likes fucking Emmett?"

"No," John said wincing at the unwanted visuals.

"Exactly, you don't because people are just people, John and their sexuality doesn't change who they are at their core. It's just a part of who they are. Who they doshouldn't even factor into it. You're just learning that. Brian and Justin are good and upstanding men who are willing to give you and I a chance to better ourselves. Does the fact that they fuck each other- that they love each other- change who they are? No it does not despite what the bigots like Claire, Joan and your boss say. So the question is if you're going to run from the chance to start a new life, John? Because I'm not." And with that Peter went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette and give his brother and best friend time to think.

John sat there for what seemed like hours replaying his entire conversation with Peter over in his mind. His brother always had an amazing gift of making John see the big picture and what he stood to gain or in this case lose. People like Ivan Douglas didn't have anything but gang life but John always had goals for himself which he'd planned to achieve after he got Peter settled in his own career. Brian and Justin were offering him a chance to achieve it much sooner than later. When he'd joined the gang he believed all that he was taught by his embittered mother and pseudo-pious grandmother; believed that his Uncle Brian was wrong in the way he chose to live his life. But that was the thing he was learning fast- that it was his life to lead as he saw fit. John had meant what he told Cynthia. He wouldn't do anything to bring harm to his uncle based on the strength that he was willing to help and hide Peter alone. The fact that he was willing to do the same for John was an added bonus and he didn't want to blow it.

Picking up the phone, he made the call he dreaded. When Ivan answered the phone, John said the two most important words of his life: "I'm out," and hung up. He knew right then that the fallout was not going to be easy or without casualties. And for the first time in many years, he prayed that the body count wouldn't involve any of the people he now considered his family.