Fan Fiction ❯ Almost An Angel ❯ Michael's Journey ( Chapter 12 )

It was a week or two after the Homecoming dance. Sometime around noon on a Saturday. I was in my room with James, just hanging out. Well, we were making out, to be more specific, but I figure that, considering our relationship, that's pretty much a given. Anyway, I was trying to keep it quiet so that we wouldn't bother Michael any, when there was a knock at the door connecting our rooms.

"Just a second, let me go get that." I said, pulling away from James. He didn't look very happy about the idea.

"Why bother? It probably isn't important… He can come back later…" he gasped, pulling me back into his arms and kissing me again. It was nice, but the idea of just leaving Michael at the door made me feel really guilty.

"James, I can't. Look, it'll only take a second, okay babe?" I pulled away again and got up.

"Yeah?" I asked, opening the door and sticking my head through the gap.

"I'm going home for a while. I have to get the rest of my things." Michael said. He looked a little nervous; I could definitely understand why. With parents like his, I'd be a little scared too. Actually, I was scared. For his sake, that is.

I frowned. "Are you sure? Do you want me to go with you? All I need to do is tell James to get packin' and I'll be ready to go." I asked him, keeping my voice low so that James would only hear me if he were making a point to listen.

"That'd be great," he said, smiling. It was a small one, but it looked real. "Thank you, Davis."

"No problem." I replied, grinning back. "Go get my car ready; I'll be right down." Mom had given him a copy of my key that previous Wednesday.

"All right." He looked me straight in the eyes then, and his smile got a little bigger. "Make sure he doesn't trap you, okay?"

I laughed. "What, when I've got you to look forward to? Not a chance, bud; there's no competition."

Michael laughed, which made me laugh some more too, and it took every ounce of willpower in my body to keep from pushing him into the bathroom, backing him up against the sink, and kissing him till we both passed out.

Yeah, it sounded fun, but I didn't think James wouldn't be too happy with that. And even if he was… Well, we were going out, and I did have some morals, you know. I have more now, but even then, I had a few.

"Dude, for real." I said, putting one hand on his shoulder and pushing him back a little. "Go get the car running. It won't take more than a few minutes, okay? I might have to pry him off me with a crowbar or something, but I'll get him to leave, and we can go." He nodded and left, and I went back over to my bed.

"Well?" James asked me, looking up. Apparently I waited too long to reply, 'cause he grabbed my arm and pulled me down on top of him.

"I have to go." I said, kissing him for a few seconds. "Michael needs to go back to his house long enough to get some things, and I don't want him to go by himself."

James rolled his eyes. "Send your little brother with him. Or take him later."

"James, I have to go with him. There's no telling what his parents will try to do when they see him. And I can't take him later; we're taking the brats to a movie tonight."

"But Davis… I'll be lonely at home, all by myself."

"Cute, but not cute enough. Come on, you have to go."

"But-"

"No."

All of a sudden I was on the floor, and he was stomping over to my door and unlocking it. "Fine." He said, turning around to look down at me. "Have fun. Don't bother trying to call; you'll see me at school on Monday." The door slammed behind him.

Well that was… interesting." I said, standing up and following him. By the time I reached the front door, his car was already gone.

"What was that all about?" Michael asked from behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I scratched my head and stood staring at the door for a few seconds.

"I'm not really sure. I guess he was angry or something." I shrugged. "Oh well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Come on, let's get going."

* * *

We were both quiet when we pulled up in front of his house. We were both nervous and trying to hide it. And I didn't want him going in there, no matter what it was that he wanted from inside.

"You sure you really wanna go in there right now? Couldn't you wait 'til sometime later?" I asked, turning to look him in the eyes. He sighed.

"No, actually, I'm sure I don't want to go right now, but I really don't have the option of waiting until later. If I don't go now… I might chicken out."

"Okay, then. We go now, simple as that. Easy, right?" I reached over and hugged him tightly with one arm; he unbuckled his seatbelt and threw both his arms around me, squeezing as tight as he could.

"Don't worry." I murmured, reaching up and running one hand through his hair. "I won't let them do anything to you, all right? And besides, if anything does happen, I've got the feeling that my entire family will storm through that door and make them regret it."

He laughed, but didn't let go. "You're probably right. They would do something like that, wouldn't they?"

"You'd better believe it. And Mom and Sara would be leading the whole thing, of course." I grinned. "That kid's gotten bloodthirsty since she met you."

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's good for her, if you ask me."

"Yeah. A girl needs to have a backbone, especially in today's world."

We sat there for a few minutes, just holding each other and prepping ourselves. "Ready now?" I finally asked him. He nodded, I undid my seatbelt, and we got out.

* * *

When we stepped into the apartment, I couldn't believe what a mess it was. There was trash all over the floor, the paint on the walls and ceiling was peeling… Nobody was in the room, though, so I figured we were lucky.

"My room's this way." Michael whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. I followed him to the left, down a very short hall, and to a plain brown door with a tarnished doorknob.

His room was a lot better than the rest of the his 'home.' The walls were covered with posters of anime characters and metal and rock bands, so you couldn't see how bad they really were. Everything was neat, just like Michael's room at my house, but there was a thin coat of dust over everything. That was only natural, considering how long he'd been gone.

"Come on, help me put everything in these." Michael said, handing me an empty trash bag that I hadn't even noticed him bring in. He was carrying five or six more, and was already filling one of them up quickly. "It doesn't matter if it gets all mixed up. I just want go get everything and leave. Davis, please hurry, would you?"

I blinked a few times, then started stuffing everything in sight into my bag. I didn't want to stay any longer than I had to, so the faster I worked, the better.

* * *

It only took about forty-five minutes to get everything packed up, probably since we were running off of pure adrenaline. "Does this mean your parents aren't home?" I asked him, looking around the room to make sure we hadn't missed anything.

"They might be, but if they are, they're so drunk they haven't heard us yet. I'd really rather not find out, though."

"Gotcha." I grabbed two of the trash bags and headed downstairs to my car. I opened the trunk and threw the bags in, but as I turned around to help Michael with his, the apartment door slammed shut. With Michael still inside. I knew that wasn't good.

"Michael?" I shouted, running back and trying to get inside. The door wouldn't move. "Michael! Are you okay?"

"Davis?" I heard him yell. "Davis, my-"

There was a loud thud, like something heavy hitting the floor, and I heard a man's voice. He sounded drunk. "Sho, you're back, huh? Lil bastard… Leavin' w'out tellin' ush and thinkin' ya c'n jush come back w'out ashkin' me…"

"No, dad. I'm not going to come back. I'm here to get the rest of my things; I'm leaving for good this time!"

"Whar ya gunna go, huh? Gonna live on the shtreets, like that no good brother of yoursh that ran off when you wur a kid?"

"No, I don't need to go to the streets. I have a place to go where people care about me. A place where I don't have to spend all my spare time working just to pay the bills for parents that don't give a damn and spend all their money on alcohol. I have a real home now."

It sounded like he was crying, and I started punching the door as hard as I could, trying to get in. That man was messing with my Michael, and I wasn't about to stand there and put up with it!

"Who'sh that out there? Anudder fag frienda yoursh?"

"You can't talk like that about my friend, even if you are my father. Get out of the way, I'm leaving!" I heard the deadbolt slide, and the door flew open. Michael fell into my arms, tears streaming down his face. Behind him was a tall, fat, balding and very angry middle-aged man.

The man pulled one arm back like he was going to hit Michael, and there was no way in hell that I was going to let that happen. I turned quickly so that Michael was facing the street and my back was to the apartment. His dad's fist slammed into my back and I gasped; the guy was stronger than he looked, and that punch hurt.

"Get in the car, Michael." I said, pushing him forward a little. He took off running down the stairs, and I turned to face my attacker.

"That was a mistake." I growled, punching him in the face as hard as I could. Blood gushed from his nose, and I slammed my knee into his stomach while he was still stunned by the first blow. From there on it was easy work, and soon he was lying unconscious on the apartment floor. I stepped over him, grabbed the four other trash bags of Michael's stuff, and walked away as calmly as I could.

Once I'd put the bags in the trunk and gotten into the car myself, I let out a deep breath. Michael was still crying, but I couldn't do anything yet. I had to get away first.

"Davis?" he choked out in between sobs. I just grunted and started driving home.

When we got back we grabbed Michael's stuff and went upstairs. Everything got thrown into his room, but he followed me, still crying quietly, as I headed back into mine. We locked the doors, then collapsed onto my bed.

"Michael…" I whispered, pulling him into my arms. He hugged me even tighter than he had earlier, so tight that it hurt, but I didn't say anything. "Come on, calm down… It's okay now. I didn't let him hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, not ever."

"I'm sorry, Davis… I didn't want you to see that dump, I didn't want you to meet him…" Michael sobbed. I could barely understand him, he was crying so hard.

I didn't know what to do, so I just hugged him, running my hands up and down his back. I held him until he stopped crying, kept holding him 'til he fell asleep.

I'd never truly hated anyone until then, but I hated his father for making my Michael get so upset. I still hate him for it.

* * *

Before I knew it, it was 6:15. We were supposed to go to the movie theater in thirty minutes so we could buy the kids tickets for some new movie they wanted to watch at 7:00.

"Michael? Hey. Wake up, gorgeous. We have to take the brats to the movies in half an hour." I said, shaking him just a little. His eyelids fluttered open slowly.

"Davis? Did you just call me gorgeous?" he asked sleepily, staring up at me. I grinned.

"Maybe, maybe not…"

"Well, would you say it then, just in case I was dreaming? Just once?"

He was so adorable then, looking at me like I was a god to be worshiped or something. I couldn't resist him. "You're gorgeous, gorgeous."

He giggled. "Thanks." He stretched, and I let him go so that he could sit up. "Well, we'd better get ready, then, huh?"

"Think they even remember that we're going?"

Someone came running down the hall and started pounding on the door. "Hey, hey! Almost time to go! Come on, come on!" It was Sara.

"I'd say they do."

We laughed and got up.