I'll Be Holding on to You

after what he did

"I know." I wiped my other eye and leaned back, as she did the same.

"You guys have fun before you got home?" my mom asked dryly. She got up from the piano and fluffed a quilt up so it settled to cover Cam, and kissed his cheek, and sighed. She came to sit on the floor between the bean bag chair and the couch the rest of them were on. "I have some bad news, and no time like the present. Cameron's father is being released for outpatient therapy only, in about three weeks. Cam doesn't know." It pained her greatly to give us this information.

We were stunned. He had been sentenced to what was basically forever in a mental institution after what he'd done, in lieu of prison. "What?" I asked dumbly. Erika was squeezing my hand and it hurt but I didn't do anything about it. "How?"

She ran her hands through her hair, tried a smile but it was crooked. "They're understaffed, underfunded. He's on a combo of new meds. They're releasing what they think of as their . . . most harmless patients."

She winced at our expected reactions and rightly so. We almost woke up Cam, which was impossible in his drugged state. "What! Fucking what!" Erika half rose. "After what he did, to, to everyone! To Dory!"

My mom was nodding, her hands out in a placating matter. "I know, of course I know, love. Of course I know. There will be measures taken, restraining orders. I promise, we'll keep you guys all safe."

But they had always said that and I knew, I more than fucking anyone knew, that it was so much wishful thinking. Even a flat-out lie.

My stupid stomach was churning and I went to throw up because I didn't feel bad enough already. My mom was there with a bottle of water, a tranquilizer, a hug. She gave me back to Erika and I settled gratefully into her arms, noting her own sedated expression.

"Maybe we should just kill him," Mo said in a dangerously flippant way, earning an involuntary reaction from those of us whom that had double meaning for. I know I wasn't the only one giving him a stfu look.

"I don't think it's a good idea to tell Cam," my mom went on, and I saw Evie was also fighting heavy eyelids. My mom had the good, fast-acting drugs, thank God; as often as we seemed to need them.

"I agree," Moey said, having moved to my computer chair. He had refused any sedatives and jiggled a foot. He didn't like being sedated. Fuck that. Crazy. "I mean, what's the point? If we tell him it'll just make him more upset. He's just getting back to normal, or Cam-normal."

No stutter in a situation like this was worth noting, and I did, somewhere far off in my now-drowsy brain. "Aye," I gave my vote.

"Aye," Erika and Freddy echoed. Evie was asleep. "I speak for Lady Amalthea," Freddy added.

My mom nodded. "Dad and I think this is best, for now. I'll let you all know when I learn more. I'm in touch with his doctors, and they're not going to release him without giving us ample notice."

We went up to bed after that, Freddy and Evie in Cam's bed which was a first but probably not what it looked like. My mom was sleeping on the other couch downstairs to keep an eye on Cameron, and Moey went to work.

Unfortunately, the drugs only last so long. At two I woke myself up gasping from a nightmare that had me at my current age but running up a hill in a thunderstorm from Cameron's father, who was wearing a clown mask. "Fuck," I whispered, my heart pounding. Leave it to my stupid idiot brain to put together several of my fears. 

I sat up, causing Erika to roll over and look at me blearily.

"'Kay?" she asked thickly.

"Yeah," I lied, but even in her sleep she knew better.

"No wonder bad dreams," she said, a little more awake but still unable to fully grammar.

"Yeah," I said again. It was warm in my room and I got up and went to open the window. I needed nicotine. I sat in the windowsill and lit a cigarette.

She wrapped herself in a blanket and came to sit opposite me. "Let me guess, someone trying to shoot you or something?" Her silky hair cover had come off and her hair was a mess, and her eyes were bloodshot, and I could not have loved her more.

"Dude. Cam's dad, chasing me in the lightning, wearing a clown mask." I shuddered. "Uphill, nonetheless."

"Not uphill. That is your worst nightmare." She yawned and wrinkled her nose as some smoke drifted her way. "Yuck."

"You'll live," I said, but held the cigarette out the window as far as I could.

"I hate being up in the middle of the night," she grumbled.

"There's the bed," I said, pointing.

She ignored me. "Hurrrry so we can go to sleep." She shivered. "Also, it's cold."

"Dude. You're wearing a blanket. Which, by the way." I stole part of it for my feet.

"Hooker," she said mildly.

A cold wind blew in and I hurriedly put my cigarette out in a half full Red Bull can and shut the window most of the way. We got back under the covers and she spread the one she'd taken with her on top. "Poor Cam," she said. "Good fuckin' argument for birth control. Or abortion."

"Jesus, Freak," I said, a little stunned. "You don't mean that."

She shrugged a little, turning onto her side to look at me. I was lying facing her. "You smell like smoke. Also, yeah, I kind of fucking do. I mean, we would miss him, yeah, but we wouldn't know the difference if he hadn't been born." She sighed, frustrated. "You know what I mean, Dorienne," she said pointedly, because I did. "It would be better for our own dearly beloved Cameron if he had never had to deal with this life, probably. For fuck's sake. Is there really a question about that? Me saying it is not going to make it happen."

I did know what she meant, and part of me agreed wholeheartedly. But most of me was full of a bigger concern at the moment. "You feel that way too?"

She closed her eyes, shrugging a little again. "I mean," she said. "Sure. Yeah. Maybe." She looked at me again, apologetic but honest. "I may not have your perfect memory, but I'll never forget most of the shit that our loving father did to us. I don't know how--" she faltered. "I mean, it makes my life hard, you know? It makes existing just hard. To do it the rest of my life is almost daunting." She swallowed, and her mouth quirked, but her eyes were haunted. "Don't tell no one."

I had no filter. "I wouldn't want to be in a world you aren't in," I said, the very thought making my heart ache.

That made her feel better. "I'm glad I'm here, you fool," she said, shoving my shoulder a little. "I hope you understand what I mean."

"I do." I did, as much as I could, having grown up safe with loving parents. Though I knew many horrible things about the twins' childhood, thanks to Mohammed sharing, I knew it was the tip of the iceberg.

When they were found and taken away, at almost eight, they didn't know how to joke, or use a seatbelt, or hold a crayon. In Freak's case, she didn't even talk for a year, and they didn't know if she ever had or would. They'd never used utensils, or worn much if any clothing, or used a toothbrush. Every movement made them cringe and cower together, hands up in defense. 

Separating them, for any reason, had caused such trauma that their foster parents simply stopped doing it. When they slept at home even now, they had beds in the same room. Erika especially was incapable of sleeping alone. As my mom began to treat them, she allowed Cam and me around as much as wanted, if only to give them an idea of what kids their age were even like.

At least Cam had had his mom growing up, who had tried to protect him in her own failing way. The twins had just been pawns in the hands of their father, who was a real life evil genius and broke them from the inside out in every way.

"I love you, dude," I told her, cursing the universe for not giving me super powers to fix my friends.

"I know," she said, yawning. She rolled over. "Scratch my back?"

"Aaaand you're a total whore." But I did.