Love Like A Delinquent (Remake)

{ Chapter 18 }

"Painkillers?" Chris guessed as I strolled into the kitchen. He was sat at the table, a cup of coffee in his hands. He'd taken all of his vacation days off now just so that he could be home in case Hunter needed him. It was actually really amazing how much he sacrificed for Hunter and yet Hunter still had extreme difficulty believing that Chris wanted anything to do with him.

"Yeah, got any left?"

"Here," he tossed me the half empty tub and I flipped 2 out. "How is he?"

"He's crying for a fag," I murmured, sitting down to face him. "Today's actually been good. He didn't have any nightmares last night and not needed his inhaler once. Think he's getting out of the shock?"

"Hope so," Chris said. "I can't stand seeing him like this,"

"I know. He doesn't talk about how he feels though. The only time he mentions John is when he's too scared to realize what he's talking about,"

"I think it's good if he doesn't talk too much about John," he admitted. "Not until he goes back to therapy, at least. It'll just be too painful for him, without any decent coping strategies."

"Guess so," I agreed.

Chris nodded in agreement. "Yeah, why don't you go back through? I need to make a call anyway,"

"Sure,"

I pulled myself up from the chair, heading back towards the bedroom where I found Hunter fidgeting impatiently. He'd sat up now, legs crossed and eyes sinking down.

"Still upset about that fag?"

I laughed a little but Hunter didn't respond. Instead, he turned his head, looking up to face me. It was the way he looked at me, his eyes staring directly into mine. There seemed to be no emotion in his face at all but I'd never felt so insecure.

"What?"

"Wanna talk," he murmured. "To you. About stuff,"

I nodded, making my way over to the bed and pulling down the blankets, revealing Hunter's long, pale legs. He curled up a little bit, and dropped his eyes from mine once I was seated comfortably next to him.

"Stuff?"

"Dad stuff,"

"John stuff," I corrected. Hunter just shot me a confused glance. "He's John. You shouldn't call him your Dad."

"Can't help it,"

"I know, try though, yeah?" He nodded briefly, sitting up more so that he was looking down at me. "What is it you wanna talk about?"

"Dunno," he admitted. "Well, I do. But, fuck, I dunno. He's alive. And y'know in Alaska, I used to get scared cause I thought I'd seen him? What if that was actually him? And he's been there the whole time. Cause if he saw me there, then he could know where I am now, and I can't, I can't see him. I'm so fucking scared, I can't see him-"

"Slow down," I whispered; taking Hunter's hand and waiting until his breathing had calmed down. I turned a little, looking up into his eyes, and saw the urgent desperation in them. "I'm not gonna lie to you Hunter, it could have been him. But it might not be. He's on the run, he probably got as far away from that place as possible. And even if it was him, he didn't do anything. It's been 2 years and he hasn't done anything. But even if he tried to find you here, it wouldn't work. Police know him, Hunter. They wouldn't let him near you,"

"Maybe," he murmured. "Just, I dunno. I'm scared. Don't want you to leave me,"

"I'm not gonna," I promised in all seriousness. I laughed a little, shaking my head. "You don't know how much I care about you, do you?"