Awesamdad (Georgebur)[discontinued]

Chapter 8

"Hey, dad?" He began.

"Yes?" Sam responded, not bothering to look up from his plate.

"There's something important I need to tell you."

That caught his attention. He put down his silverware, moving to give his son his full attention.

"What is it, bud?"

George took a deep breath.

"First you need to promise me that you won't hate me for this."

"I could never hate you, George."

The boy's breathing began to pick up as he continued. "You say that now but what if I tell you and you do. Or if you won't love me anymore. Or-"

He was spiraling. His shaking hands had made their way into his hair, pale fingers pulling at chestnut strands in an attempt to soothe and ground himself.

Sam quickly stood, walking around the table, pulling George's chair around to face him, and kneeling in front of him. He carefully reached up, pulling George's hands away from his hair and holding them within his own.

"George, look at me."

The boy finally looked up and Sam felt his heart clench at the look on his face.

His face was streaked with tears, his eyes rimmed with red, and body continuing to jolt as he sobbed. He looked terrified.

"Oh, Georgie." He cooed, reaching up to wipe the tears that were running quickly down his face.

He waited until George's sobs had slowed to a stop before speaking again.

"George, if you don't want to tell me anymore you don't have to. But nothing could ever make me hate you ok?"

George nodded, taking a shuddering breath.

"Nothing you ever tell me will ever make me love you any less. Understand th-"

"Dad I'm gay." George interrupted the man, his eyes squeezed shut and his entire body shaking.

"Oh." He responded dumbly, not sure of what else to say.

"I'm sorry," George spoke, his voice timid and his top lip wobbling.

It was then that Sam realized how badly his silence could be taken.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't apologize. You have nothing to worry for, bud."

George didn't hear him, too caught up in his thoughts to hear anything in the world around him.

Sam tried to get his son's attention for a minute more before realizing it was a lost cause.

'Shit.' He thought to himself.

He stood slowly, moving to carefully scoop the smaller boy into his arms. He moved the two of them into the living room, sitting on the couch with George in his lap. He rocked the two of them side to side as he whispered reassurances into his son's ear.

They sat for that for what could have been five minutes or 5 hours. Sam didn't know. All he knew was that his baby was hurting and he was willing to do whatever it took to stop his pain.

Eventually, his sobbing quieted to soft sniffles. George continues to cling to Sam, terrified to move and have to see the disappointment he just knew would be on his father's face.

"Do you promise you don't hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you. Why would I ever hate you for who you love?"

"People at school said you would." The words were muffled from where George was hiding his face.

Sam remembers what that was like. To have people tell you that you were wrong for who you love. He remembers the way people had called him disgusting and told him to "pick a side".

So he did. He pretended that he was only attracted to women. He told everyone that it was just a phase.

And they believed him. Because he told them what they wanted to hear.

Eventually, he had told the lie so many times that even he had begun to believe it.

Until very recently. But that was a thought for another time. For now, he needed to think about letting his son know that he would stop loving him. No matter what.

"Well, they are very wrong." He started, running his fingers through deep brown hair. "I will never stop loving you. For any reason. Especially not for something as small as the fact that you happen to be attracted to men. Hell, I think that would make me a massive hypocrite." He said with a small laugh.

George didn't seem to pick up on the bit. He let out a tired hum.

"That's good to know." He said, sleep lacing his voice.

"Why don't you go to bed now? You've had a busy day and I know crying can be extremely tiring." "Yea."

George stood up and stretched, mumbling out a soft "Good night", before beginning to walk up the stairs.

Sam stayed on the couch staring at a random spot by the T.V and thinking.

"And Dad?"

Sam looked up to see his son. George had stopped midway up the stairs, face still stained with tear tracks, and eyes rimmed with red. But he looked happy; A small smile resting on his face as he spoke his next words.

"I love you, Dad."

Sam smiled back.

"I love you too, George."