His head felt stuffy. Everything hurt. From his head to his chest to the bottoms of his feet. His nose was blocked, his eyes felt swollen. He could hear the clock on his bedside table ticking quietly, cars going by on the street outside his window. His mother was moving around downstairs. She hadn't bothered to come up to talk to him. He hadn't expected her to. Maybe she didn't even know he was home. He had ran all the way back from the hall the play had been held in. For all she knew, he could have been hiding out at Ferb's house or something.
He was curled in the middle of his bed, dressed in only boxers. The room was dark, the only light coming from his open window as the half full moon shone. He sniffed and the sound startled him. God, he was out of it.
He'd only just stopped crying. He'd felt like the terrible pressure on his shoulders had been lifted, and then crashed back down on his chest. It was constricting, his heart beat was painful. Everything was out in the open now, he was no longer worried about people finding out. That had been a relief. And that had been the only good part of the situation. Everything else... was just horrible.
Buford stared out the window. He felt completely and utterly drained. So tired and weary. The crying had really worn him out, and now he was just empty. No more tears, no more happiness. Just sorrow, regret, anger. He was so angry at himself. This whole situation could have been avoided if he'd just said no in the first place. Instead he had dawdled. Gone through with it right up to the last moment. He'd probably hurt Baljeet just as much as he would have if he'd just done what Chris had said.
The streetlights outside were so dim they didn't block out the stars. Those were bright, winking at him almost mockingly. But then he'd remind himself that they were inanimate fucking objects and they couldn't mock him.
God, his life sucked right now.
What in the hell could he say to Baljeet? If the kid would even allow him to anyway. He was pretty sure Baljeet would ignore him for the rest of high school and then move away and never speak to him again. That's what played out in his head anyway. Awkward, tortured days of pretending he wasn't staring at Baljeet out of the corner of his eyes, wishing he could wind back time. Graduation. Being told by someone else that he had left. Never seeing him again.
He groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. There was no point in thinking about shit like that. It'd just make him feel worse. If that were even possible. God, he was so over dramatic. "Stop being such a fucking pussy," he growled to himself.
This went on for maybe half an hour. He wasn't sure, and he sure as hell wasn't watching the clock. Eventually, though, his door did open, and he sat up to see his mother standing there, illuminated from behind by the hallway light. She hesitated, watching him for a moment before rushing towards him and enveloping him in a hug. He was too stunned to do anything but sit there as she held him, but eventually incoherent babbling tumbled from his mouth. He wanted to ask why she wasn't angry at him. Why she was still with him. But he couldn't get it out properly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear, stopping his mumbling. He paused, listening. Why would she be sorry? There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "I'm sorry for what he did to you. I'm sorry I left you with him. I'm so sorry, I didn't know."
"It's not like I told you," he managed, his voice gruff. Scratchy.
"No, Ferb did," she replied with a sad smile. Ah. So that's how she knew it hadn't been a consent thing. He vaguely considered having a go at Ferb for telling her but decided against it. It wasn't like he could afford to lose another friend at this point.
His mother pulled him back into a hug and rocked him tightly. It was a little awkward because he was a teenaged boy and she was so small compared to him, but she was his mother. He didn't feel awkward or self conscious, he felt at home. He felt safe. He felt comforted.
"I'm sorry for not coming up sooner, I wasn't sure if you were home," she whispered. He felt tears sting at his eyes. Of course she wasn't angry with him. Why had he gone around with the misconception that she would hate him? She had done nothing but support him. "I love you, sweetie."
He began to cry, pressing his face into her shoulder and trying his best to keep the sobs quiet. His entire frame was shaking with the effort and still she just rocked him, mumbling soft words of comfort over and over, pressing little kisses into his hair until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
xoxoxo
Ferb showed up at his house a few days later. Buford still hadn't left his room but he was still doing the basics such as showering and eating. He owed his mother at least that. Ferb had knocked once before opening, and Buford just stared at him. The green-haired teen had his hands buried in his pockets and he scuffed his foot against the ground awkwardly. They didn't speak but Ferb followed obediently when Buford climbed out the window and went up onto the roof, sitting and staring up at the afternoon sky.
Ferb sat beside him, pressed close, shoulders and knees touching. They didn't speak, just watched the sky and soaked in each other's presence. Buford tried to pretend the last few months had never happened. He wasn't doing so well with that.
It was only when the sun began to set, painting bright orange and soft pink across the sky, that Buford spoke.
"I'm really fucking angry at you right now."
"But you won't accept my apology?" Ferb asked softly.
Buford laughed bitterly and closed his eyes briefly. "Life sucks, Ferb."
When he opened them again, he saw the other teen nodding in agreement, his face as impassive as usual. They fell back into a companionable silence, watching the sunset and the stars slowly come out from hiding. Despite the fact he'd spent the whole day doing pretty much nothing, Buford was exhausted. His sleeping had been erratic, and he found himself waking up at random times throughout the night. He barely even noticed when his head dropped onto Ferb's shoulder.
"All right," the teen sighed, shrugging him off and grabbing his arms. "Let's get you to bed."
He just nodded and followed when Ferb tugged him inside and back into back. Ferb didn't pull the covers over him or anything and Buford was grateful. He was acting like a baby enough already as it was, he didn't need Ferb to coddle him.
Instead the green-haired teen stood by the door, watching as he got himself comfortable. "English is lame without you," the British boy said softly.
"I know."
"Are you coming back anytime soon?"
"Probably not until next year," Buford admitted. It was extremely close to the end of school for the year anyway. He didn't see the point in going back.
"What happened, Buford?" he asked with a sigh.
"Look, I-" he swallowed, trying to work past the lump in his throat. "I had to explain the whole thing to my mother and ended up crying my eyes out like a little girl. I don't want to have to repeat the experience, okay? Go ask her."
"All right," Ferb opened the door and said softly before closing it, "goodnight, Buford."
Buford stared up at the ceiling, wondering vaguely what Baljeet was doing.
xoxoxo
A week later and he'd finally ventured from his room and was sitting on the sofa, watching re-runs of his favourite show. His mother was at work, so he felt safe enough. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, but he was afraid she'd make a big deal over him out of his room.
School had ended for the year. The school wasn't happy with him or his mother, but the woman stubbornly refused to allow Buford to go back, not that he would have anyway. There was no way he could handle it. Everyone would stare at him, judge him, tell him off. And then he'd have to see Baljeet. He didn't know if he could without crying. God he was sick of crying.
He heard the sound of the front door opening and he tensed, expecting his mother. It was quite a shock when Phineas walked in. The redhead glanced around before spotting him on the sofa and he walked over, sitting himself down beside Buford. He didn't look angry. He didn't look like he was about to yell at Buford. He looked normal.
"So..." he ventured after a moment of awkward silence, the TV having been muted. "Ferb told me everything."
Buford let out a laugh that was half genuine, half bitter. "Of course he did. That's just so fucking typical. He can't keep anything from his precious Phineas."
Phineas' forehead crinkled as he frowned, blue eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Buford waved away his question. He wasn't about to go and ruin Ferb's life just because his own sucked. And anyway, it wasn't like Ferb knew any better until a week ago. "Just forget what I said."
"All right..." the boy paused and stared at Buford hard. "Is it true? What Ferb told me?"
The bully didn't reply, but his silence must have been enough. Phineas surprised him by standing and rummaging through one of the drawers beside the TV before pulling out a movie and putting it in to play. When he sat back down, his hand covered Buford's and entwined their fingers together, instantly causing tears to sting at the larger boy's eyes again.
It wasn't anything romantic, it was just a comfort thing. Phineas had always been innocent and unabashed when he comforted other males, and this was just yet another example. The movie was a comedy, something stupid that Buford had seen a thousand times. Phineas laughed at the jokes without restraint and eventually Buford did too, although his were tinged with sadness.
When the movie was finished Phineas pulled him into a tight hug that only brought back the need to cry. He was so close to Baljeet's size that it brought back bittersweet memories that he'd been repressing as much as he could. When the redhead pulled back, he pressed a sweet, innocent kiss to Buford's cheek. "I'm sorry. I really am. For getting angry at you without knowing the full story, for what happened to you. Just... everything."
Buford couldn't say anything and Phineas smiled at him before leaving. His mother found him an hour later, crying quietly on the couch with his head in his hands. She sat beside him and hugged him, just as she had done almost every night since the play. "I won't leave you. I'll never let you go."
xoxoxo
"He's been sentenced. He won't be bothering you ever again."
He and Ferb glanced up at his mother's voice. It was a few days later. The court case had been today, against his mother's ex. Buford had refused to go along. He hadn't seen the man in years and he wanted to keep it that way, giving a statement had been hard enough. Ferb was with him to keep him company. He wondered if his mother had set that up, worried he'd do something stupid like get into the liqueur cabinet.
Ferb smiled sadly in the woman's direction. Buford only nodded shortly and pushed past them both, heading up to his room.
Ferb sat vigil by his bed that night. It had gotten to the point where neither of them cared about 'acting tough' and keeping their distances. Ferb was holding his hand tightly as Buford buried his face into his pillow, choking back sobs and trying not to relive every moment spent in his mother's ex boyfriend's company. Everytime his shoulders shook with the effort, Ferb would squeeze his hand and the pain would recede somewhat. He was thankful.
xoxoxo
It was a week, maybe two, into the holidays when Isabella showed up. Her lips were in a thin line when she barged inside and stood in front of Buford, who had been in the kitchen grabbing a drink. Phineas and Ferb had come in from the living room, having heard her enter, and were standing in the doorway. All three wondered if she was going to hit him.
Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his chest. After a moment of stunned silence he returned the hug. When she pulled away, she looked up at him with a half smile. "Chris Fraser is the most disgusting, horrible person on the planet and I swear, Buford, I'll make him pay."
He only blinked stupidly at her. He didn't bother to wonder who had told her the full story. He didn't care now, anyway. He found it hard to care about a lot of things lately.
"Come on," she tugged on his hand. "Show me where all your baking things are. We're going to make some cookies."
"...What?" he stood still, completely uncomprehending. His reaction skills weren't at their best. Ferb rolled his eyes and showed Isabella where the baking things were. He was around there so often he knew where everything was no problem.
She pulled out the flour and baking powder and various other items, fixing him with a hard stare. "Come on, Buford. You can't just sit in your house, wallowing in self pity. If you won't go outside then you can at least do something productive. Pre-heat the oven, would you?"
Her little speech surprised him so much he did as he was told, wandering over to the oven with a lost expression as Phineas snickered in the background.
His mother burst into tears when she came home to the house smelling of cookies and Buford laughing when Isabella smeared dough on his cheek. Ferb was watching with a smile and Phineas was laughing, having joined in with the baking.
It was the first time he'd laughed, really laughed, in a long time.
xoxoxo
Things had slowly been picking up until Ferb finally convinced Buford to go outside. He'd become paranoid, constantly thinking their classmates would be waiting for him, waiting to punish him for what he did to Baljeet. It had been some time since he'd left the house, apart from his little forays onto the roof. He'd refused flat out everytime his mother begged him to just go outside, even for a little while.
Eventually, though, Ferb had gotten fed up. And it was now, a week after Isabella's acceptance of him, that he finally stepped outside of his house, breath fogging in front of him on such a cold day.
Ferb stayed close by his side, understanding how big a step this was for him. They were both dressed warmly, gloves, scarfs and hats secured on their persons. His fists had clenched when they made it out onto the street, and his jaw had done so when they passed one of their classmates. The girl only stared as she went past, never once glaring or making a comment. Buford had relaxed a little afterwards.
They made it to the shop, a little dairy about a block away from Buford's house, without any trouble. They'd gone inside and Ferb bought them both a chocolate bar. It was probably his way of rewarding the bully for finally going outside. They'd left the shop and made it half way back when things went wrong.
Buford stopped dead in his tracks and Ferb did too, looking confused. Chris Fraser was sitting on the low fence of one of the houses on the street, smoking and looking carefree. He hadn't seen them, but he looked up after a few seconds. His eyes met Buford's and he saw the brief confusion, then recognition, and then pure glee. The blond smiled and waved at them both.
Buford felt like he was going to be sick. They took an alternate route back home and Ferb spent the rest the the afternoon telling him it was going to be okay.
xoxoxo
They were watching a movie, he, his mother and Ferb, when Buford finally spoke up, catching their attention with the tone of his voice. His heart was beating hard afterwards- it had just tumbled out without him paying much attention. "You know, when I was raped, a lot of the time it felt like it never happened to me. I mean, yeah, it happened, but I felt disconnected, you know?"
They both stared at him with wide eyes. Ferb looked shocked and sympathetic. His mother's eyes were filling with tears. It had been hard on her, knowing something so horrible had happened to her son, but she had never complained once, always being there for Buford.
"I-I..." he stumbled over the words, feeling tears sting at his eyes as he finally, after all these years, faced the situation and what had happened to him. He could almost feel those hands on him again. He could almost see it again, his vision both picking up the room in front of him and the memories so strong that had surged to the front of his mind. "I was raped. Oh, God... I-I was..."
A choked sob cut him off and Ferb, who had been sitting beside him on the couch, immediately put an arm around his shoulder. His mother stood from her lounge chair and sat on his other side, hugging him, the movie forgotten.
He felt a little less dirty when he finished crying.
xoxoxo
Things improved steadily from there.
Isabella turned up every now and again, pulling Buford out of his moping and forcing him to bake with her, or cook, or clean. She even started teaching him to knit despite his protests. She was like a wake up call for him, telling him that the world went on no matter how depressed he felt, and that he needed to grow some balls and get over it. She'd never actually said that, but he knew it was what she meant.
Phineas visited almost every second day and they would sit down and watch a movie together, or he'd bring around new inventions to try out.
Ferb was always there. The guest room had practically become his. He went home maybe once or twice a week, more often now that Buford was starting to recover. He and Buford spent most of their time just hanging out and trying to act like everything was normal, but they did go for rides occasionally, going to see Knobblies. They spent some time fixing their bikes and improving them.
Buford had run into Chris again when he, Phineas and Ferb had went for a walk, passing through the school. The blond, who'd been leaning against one of the walls of the deserted school, pushed himself into a proper standing position and sauntered over to them. "Well, well, well, if it isn't-"
He was cut off by Buford swinging at his face, his fist connecting with the boy's cheek with a satisfying crunch. Ferb burst out laughing, the show of emotion quite rare. Phineas had his hands covering his mouth, his eyes wide, but he made no move to stop Buford. They'd left Chris there, holding his cheek and howling with blood spurting from his nose.
They'd run into him again almost a week later. The blond's face was bruised and battered, and he looked pissed off. He cornered them, just Buford and Ferb this time, as they'd gone for a walk around the block. He stood in front of the brunet, hands on his hips, sneering. "Go on, Van Stomm, hit me again. Hit me, you son of a bitch, and see if I'll show you mercy this time."
Ferb was grinning proudly when Buford just turned and walked away, refusing to retaliate. He wanted to be the better man. And it felt good, too, hearing Chris screaming at them as they walked away, and feeling Ferb clap him on the back.
Hopefully that would be the last he ever saw of Chris Fraser.
xoxoxo
It was about three months since the play. Buford and Ferb were sitting in his room, playing a game of cards. Buford had been in mid-laugh when the door opened, revealing a nervous looking Baljeet.
He felt his heart jump to his throat, felt his breath catch. The Indian looked the same as he always did, and it made his heart pound. His hands felt sweaty. Nothing was said, but Ferb packed up the cards and left, patting Baljeet on the shoulder on his way out.
There was a nervous silence and they both stared at each other, drinking the other in. Eventually Baljeet closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a bit of space between himself and Buford. There was another silence, this time longer, before the dark-skinned teenager spoke. "Phineas told me your side of the story."
Of course he fucking did. Buford let out a bitter laugh but didn't reply.
"Why did you not tell me?" Baljeet's voice grew stronger, anger lacing with his words.
"Because something like that definitely comes up in conversation," Buford replied sarcastically, refusing to meet the other's eyes.
Baljeet frowned and Buford saw the grip he had on the sheets of the bed tighten. He spoke again, and this time his words were snapped, full of hurt and anger. "Why did you lie to me?"
"I didn't lie!" he argued hoarsely. "I just... never told you."
"And what if we had gotten to the sexual stage?" Baljeet hissed, his face flushed with both anger and a little embarrassment at what he had just said. "What would have happened, Buford? Would you have freaked out? For goodness sake, you freaked out when I touched your knee."
Buford glanced away, running the questions over in his mind. What would happen when he eventually wanted to get sexual? Would he be able to handle it? He hoped he would. His mother's ex had already ruined his life so much. He didn't want yet another thing ruined.
"Buford, why did you let Chris Fraser blackmail you?"
Anger bubbled up, so much repressed rage and hurt and fury, and he turned on Baljeet, hands clenched into fists. "DO YOU THINK I WANTED TO DO THAT TO YOU? YOU THINK I WANTED TO HURT YOU? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT FELT LIKE K-"
Baljeet flinched when he started yelling but seemed unable to listen to the rant. He held up his hand and cut Buford off. "Did you even love me? Like me? Have feelings for me at all? Because one thing that stood out to me was the fact you convinced me so fucking well."
He was surprised at the cursing but didn't comment, choosing instead to answer the question and try to sound as honest as possible. He wanted Baljeet to believe him. "If there was one thing about this whole mess that wasn't a lie," he reached out and took Baljeet's hand, both of them jolting at the contact. It had been so long. "It was my feelings for you."
"I want you to be honest with me," Baljeet said softly. "I want you to tell me everything. Your entire story. And from now own, you will never lie to me. Okay?"
Buford gulped and stared at him, realizing he was being thrown a line. Although they had never officially broken up, he knew it would be over if he didn't go along with those requests. But he couldn't face telling his story again. Telling his mother had almost broken him. And he couldn't make a promise to open up and never lie. He was too damaged for that. So he slowly shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry, I can't."
Baljeet stared up at him, eyes searching. They stayed like that and he didn't pull his hand away. Buford hoped that maybe he would be forgiven. That everything would turn out okay.
"I am sorry, Buford," Baljeet said gently, closing his eyes and seemingly struggling with what he was saying. When he opened his eyes, they were watery, but he didn't cry. "But I can not date someone who wishes to keep secrets from me. Keeping secrets is not a part of a relationship."
He squeezed Buford's hand once before pulling it away and standing, moving over to the door. There he paused, looking back over his shoulder. "I never stopped loving you, you know," he said softly. Buford couldn't breathe, his chest felt so tight and constricted. Baljeet let out a bitter little laugh and continued. "Even when I did not know the whole story and all I wanted to do was cry and yell and scream at you, I still loved you."
He faced the door again, his voice quiet. "Maybe when we have matured more, when you are not keeping secrets, we could attempt to fix this. I do not know if I mean our friendship or our relationship," he gulped audibly. "I am going back to India, just for a holiday. My parents decided I needed some time away. I am not sure when I will be back, but I will call you once I am."
He hesitated and glanced back. Buford had no doubt he looked absolutely stunned and upset. Baljeet opened the door and hurried out, forgetting to close it in his haste. Buford could hear the footsteps down the stairs, knew the boy was running. Running from Buford.
He put one hand over his eyes, trying to fight back the tears, while the other dropped down to grab the sheets on his bed and twist them, attempting to escape the fresh pain in his heart. All that progress, all the recovering he had done, was all gone. He was back to square one, back to sobbing like a child in his room, back to hating himself for what he'd done, back to wishing he could turn back time.
He felt fingers on the hand twisted the bed covers, intertwining them and forcing his to drop the material. He glanced up through watery eyes to see Ferb sitting beside him, who pulled him into a tight hug. Buford rested his forehead on the green-haired teen's shoulder. Closing his eyes tightly against the tears. "You won't leave me, right?" he forced out, struggling not to sob.
Ferb hugged him all the tighter. "Never."