Rating: R/NC-17ish for dark content, disturbing themes, sex...
Pairing: Matt x Sonny
Summary: Sonny finds out he’s adopted and wants to know the truth about his real parents…but would he better off psychologically if he never knew? He goes in search for the truth, his boyfriend, Matt by his side. Once he knows the truth, he must re-evaluate who and what he is, because he certainly can’t ignore what he’s found…after all; you can’t hide from the truth...
Disclaimer: NOT true. Happened in my head. Sonny gets along fine with his real and adoptive family and has known his real parents his whole life (just not that they were his parents)...I also believe he was younger when he found out about his adoption…? Moreover, the names of Sonny’s ‘real’ parents and family are made-up.
PART ONE: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/3858.html
PART TWO: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/4210.html
PART THREE: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/4598.html
PART FOUR: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/5114.html
PART FIVE: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/5566.html
PART SIX: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/5734.html
PART SEVEN: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/6341.html
Author's Note: Please, please, please leave me comments, let me know what you think!! You don't know how happy it makes me! ^_^
I lay on the beach, my sobs subsiding. I think about everything. I replay the events in my head over and over.
“You’re pregnant? You are!”
“The father’s probably not the same.”
“I love him!”
“You and I have no defects…”
“They don’t know how to love a child and they don’t understand the fine line between loving someone and hurting…destroying their well-being”
“It’s like, they love too much…”
“I can’t be a father to my brother.”
“I can’t be a father to my brother.”
“They love too much…”
“I can’t be a father to my brother.”
Gavin…He can’t be the father? That’s absurd. I shake my head. That’s not right, I’m going crazy. I try to banish the thought.
I think of what Gavin had just told me. I realize the hidden meaning of what he said: he wants me to be happy because he can’t. He wants me to live because he can’t. He doesn’t want me to do something drastic, because he will.
No. I’m wrong. I have to be; there’s no way…
I sit up. I grab my cell phone out of my pocket. It is slightly damaged from the fall. I bend the antennae back into place. Damn thing.
I dial the operator and ask for Jules’ cell phone number. I hold as the operator looks it up…I figure if anybody can tell me how wrong I am, it’s Jules. I want him to tell me I’m just being stupid. The operator gives me his number and I put it in my phone's address book. I call him.
“Hello?” He answers.
“Hi, it’s Sonny,” I say.
“How’d you get my number?”
“Never mind.” I retort, “Just listen, I got a crazy idea. Well, y’know how you said Sharon is pregnant…well, who do you think the father is?”
I wait for him to say ‘Ed’ and mock me.
Instead he sighs, “You don’t wanna know.” That’s not what I want to hear.
“I think,” I mumble, “That is could possibly be…” I grow quieter, “Gavin’s”
“WHAT?!” he practically yells.
“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, “Stupid of me, huh?”
“He told you?” Jules asks.
“I…I…what?!” I say frustrated.
“Did he tell you that?”
“Well, no, not really…I just, um, kinda thought maybe ‘cause of the way he was talkin’…”
“Huh. I thought either he told you or you heard Sharon.”
“Are you serious?!” I manage to say. This can’t be right. “Don’t bullshit me, man!” I assert rather loudly.
“I’m not kidding. After you ran out Sharon said that Gavin would be a wonderful father, and didn’t Ed agree…She said he is beautiful and she wants to have his child. She thinks the child is going to be the most beautiful thing the earth has seen.”
“No,” I mumble.
“Sick, ain’t it?”
“You’re kidding.” He has to be kidding.
“I’m doing my best to see that those two are committed.”
“What about Gavin?” I ask; afraid to hear his answer.
He sighs. “I can believe I didn’t see it. He had all the signs of a rape victim. Every one of them. And I didn’t fuckin’ notice.” He sighs again. “I didn’t notice” he whispers.
“His parents raped him?” I repeat.
“It’s so obvious now. He was practically screaming for help. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it.”
“What now?” I ask cautiously.
“I want to get him help. But first I want to see that those two fuckers are locked up!”
I nod, “Yeah,” I mutter.
“I’ll go see Gavin.” I say.
“He’s probably at the cemetery.”
“Heaven’s Gate” Jules says.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s the name of the cemetery, Heaven’s Gate.”
“Good luck, kiddo,” he says with a hint of sadness to his voice. I can tell he feels guilty. And he should.
“Goodbye,” I mumble and snap my phone shut. I hate Jules for not doing anything before. It's not like he didn't know they were screwed up! He just let Gavin stay with them, why didn't he try to help? Was he that afraid of Ed? Or was he just too much of a coward?
I take a deep breath and look up. I scramble to my feet, and begin to climb upwards. I get to the top and look at the trees surrounding me.
How’d I get here? Oh, well. I walk through the trees, looking for anything remotely familiar. It all looks the same! I punch at a tree as I walk; this only serves to injure my hand even more. I walk through what seems like an endless sea of trees. Finally, I see light on the other side. I run towards it.
I come out in the middle of some fancy neighborhood. At least I found civilization. I look both directions. I don’t know which way to go. I listen, hoping to hear the sounds of vehicles. Nothing much. I decide to go left, that sounds like where the traffic is coming from. I run, feeling a renewed sense of urgency. I have to find Gavin. I run to the end of the subdivision. There is a road ahead and I take it. I run towards what seems like the town. Actually, it’s the 'in-between'—not quite the city, not quite the suburbs. I’m heading the right way…at least I think.
Then I see it. A big yellow savior.
“Yes!” I scream. I stick my hand in the air and wave. I jump into the road in front of it, waving manically. The cab stops. I jump inside.
“Where to?” the cabbie asks in a thick Mexican accent.
“Heaven’s Gate cemetery.” I say.
“Ok.” He says and starts to drive.
I smile and breathe a sigh. I’m on my way. I lean back into the seat and relax a bit. I wonder how long it will take to get there. Mentally, I will the cabbie to go faster. I’m so anxious. My legs begin to shake; I feel like were going at a snail’s pace, enough though I can clearly see he’s going about 50 MPH. I stare out the windows, waiting. I hope Gavin’s all right. I think about how he must feel...
“Here we are,” the cabbie says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh,” I mutter. I get out and throw some cash at him.
“Gracious,” I hear him say as I walk away. I don’t know how much extra I gave him and I don’t much care. All I know is I’ll probably need to visit an ATM tonight. He drives off as I walk hurriedly up the path to Gavin’s little spot. I look around myself, all the graves still perfectly taken care of. I get to the top of the little hill and look towards that spot.
I see a black blanket on the ground by Gavin’s stone. I panic. I walk slowly towards it. Maybe he’s having a picnic, I try to rationalize. As I get closer I realize there is something under the blanket. Probably the food, right? I continue to walk in the direction of the sheet. As I get closer, it becomes harder for me to rationalize the situation. The form under the blanket looks human. He’s sleeping, I decide.
“Hey,” I whisper so as not to wake him. No response. I say it louder. Still nothing.
“YO!” I scream. He must really be asleep. I look at the blanket. The part nearest to the grave looks wet. Must’ve spilled his juice, I think. I’m afraid to lift up the blanket. I’m afraid of what I’ll find. I try to reassure myself of the picnic scenario. I take a deep breath and bend down. I grab the corner of the blanket. I take another deep breath and pull it back slowly.
I scream and fall backwards. This can’t be!
Gavin is laying on the ground, his head resting on a once white pillow. The pillow is now stained blood red. His face contorted from the bullet that pierced his skull. I stare at his body, shaking. I can see the fragments of his skull; I can see the brain matter. He’s still holding the gun.
No. This isn’t happening! Tears begin to fill my eyes. I lean forward and take another look at him. I feel the vomit coming up my throat. I swallow it back down and cover him with the sheet. I breathe heavily staring at the black sheet. I force the contents of my stomach back down once more.
Then I notice something white sitting by the grave. I lean over. It’s an envelope. The envelope has my name written on it. I pick it up with shaky hands. I open it. I pull out the letter and begin to read it:
“Sonny, don’t cry. I want you to be happy. I know you have a bright future and I don’t want you to give that up. Forget about them; They’re not your real family. Your real family is back home. Your real family remembers your first word, your first steps. These people know nothing more about you than they did the day you were born. They mean nothing, forget them. They’re not a family” I squint at the letter. There was something written here, but it’s crossed out, I try to read it,
I sob harder. I hug my knees to my chest. I realize there is something else in the envelope. I open it and pull out a small wad of cash. On the first bill it reads, “I don’t need this anymore.” I stuff the suicide note and the rest of the contents of the envelope into my pocket. I rest my head on my knees, crying. I am truly alone now.