CHAPTER SONG - Hold Me Down, Halsey

I fell on the leather couch in my dad's office. "Hello to your too, hijo." my dad chuckled, cutting his gaze between me and the paperwork he was looking at. I titled my head back, shutting my eyes and replied with another groan. My body was aching in places it never does. I could feel my muscles pulsing in ways that made me cringe. I wasn't fucken weak, but hockey was busting my ass to a whole new level. Why the hell did I decide to do this again? Someone remind me, please. And don't say for Maddox because he is living in this hell too.

Are we both serving some penance for something we did in our past life? Or even this life because I sure as fuck have plenty of sins to pay for.

I left Maddox downstairs, lounging in the club because he looked at me like he might collapse if he took another step. The coach really think's his training some professional team or something, definitely not a bunch of high schoolers that give no fucks about the sport. I think there's probably about four guy's on the team that actually care. Everyone else is there for the fun, or in my situation for a fucken punishment I didn't know I needed to serve. Four hours of weightlifting. Two hours of being tossed around on the ice. Then just another extra hour of the plays getting drilled into you.

I promise I'm not complaining, okay, maybe a little. I like hockey. I actually have come to enjoy it quite a bit but the lasting effect it has on my body is bloody brutal. Like now, I can't even lift my head. Thinking of even lifting a finger is to much. I just want to knock out somewhere but the list of thing's I need to do keep growing by the second. It's already a mile long.

I need to talk to my dad. I need to check in on the cartel situation with a break in we had. I need to talk to uncle Jonny about the new enforcer he took on. I need to find out about our next shipment and figure out a way to make sure it's not fucked, again. I need to check in with Ash because I haven't see much of him today. I need to talk to Kirsan about some idiotic lit paper that I have due in two days. And on top of all that I need to eat and shower.

Did I mention all I want to do is knock out?

My dad got up, crossing the room. "Mateo, I know for a fucken fact mom, and I thought you how to talk. Whatever the fuck that was wasn't a greeting."

I replied in yet another groan because it was all the energy I had left in me. My dad laughed, just as a shadow fell upon me that I could see even with my eyes closer. Prying one eye open, I stared up at my dad. Noting the deep stress wrinkles on his forehead, and the worry in his eyes. I haven't been spending enough time around here, I know this, but he hasn't mentioned it. Now, looking at him I felt the guilt sinking in.

I have left him to deal with everything well I do other thing's. Hockey. Lina. Ash. Maddox. Kirsan. Fuck me. Just the stress of it all was weighting on my mind, putting a million pounds on my shoulders. Still, I felt so fucken guilty because I know my dad doesn't have it any easier and I am supposed to take some of his weight. I'm supposed to be the one around here helping him. Shouldering the weight with him and I haven't. Not lately.

He regarded me for a second before speaking, "If you don't want to do hockey you don't have too."

Walking around me, he lifted my feet and dropped himself onto the couch before setting my feet down on his lap. Tiredness coating the rims of his oak brown eyes before he too shut his eyes and dropped his head back onto the couch.

Lately, I have even been spending less time with him. If I could choose one thing that I felt the worst about, it would be that. My dad was my rock, my shelter, and my hero. He asked so little of me but gave me so much. He would climb mountains for me if I asked, bleeding raw he would do it without a single hesitation. That why guilt filled my chest and stole my breath as I looked at him. At the man who try's every day to be better, be stronger for us, all well battling his own demons in the mist.

I shrugged. "I don't mind it. I'm not leaving Maddox to do it alone."

A moment passed between us. A silent moment of nothingness but just breathing. I needed it. So much. But even breathing felt like I was putting a million bolts of energy into it. Every breath, my body ached somewhere new. Fuck me.

My dad sighed. "I use to be like that with your dad. I see so much of your dad and I in you two and I'm glad you have that. You'll have someone there for you when I'm not going to be around."

I lifted my head despite the killer headache creeping in. "Dad, stop talking like you're dying tomorrow."

His lips titled up, a edged grin on his face. As if our normalcy consisted of death. I guess it did. The understanding that our lives could end in a split second, it gave you a realization that death is always around the corner. It brings you to term with it, settle's your mind into the knowledge. Year's before I should have know what it's like not to worry about death, I understood it. I stopped caring about it.

My dad shrugged. "Eh, you know how it is. Just take care of your mom when I leave. All thought, I have a feeling she would come find me in the end."

His words should shatter something in me, but they don't. I hate to say I'm immune to it because I know I'm not but sometimes it feels like I am. Like those emotion's are so faded, so dimmed that I can barely reach them. I can pull, and tug, and dig for them but unless I come face to face with it, I can't reach. I hate that, because the idea of coming to face with something that could pull that emotion out of me fucken terrifies me.

It's an open secret that my mom won't last without my dad. That if my dad ever left this earth, my mom would bury herself in the grave with him. It's an unspoken fact that no one touches with a ten foot pole. My mom's world without my dad is pointless, as is his without her. It's like being on a different earth that has no air. You can be there, you can live in your suit but you can't breath. Your just there. Surviving without really living.

No one would hold it against her. My parent's love for each other is something all of us strive for. Something we all look at with awe, and cherish every second of it. But we know, if my dad goes, we don't just loose one parents, we loose both. The sad truth is, his death scare's me more then my own. I can't imagine a world without my parent in it. A world were my siblings are left without the love that our parents show us day in and out. It's a pain of its own to even think about and that's why we all are more scared for my dad's death then our own. Without us, they would survive. Without each other, they would wither away.

In silence we stayed for a while. Nothing but the buzzing of his computer and the breath's I tried to take without the ache taking over. For a long moment we didn't say anything, until my dad sighed deeply and turned his head to me. He dove into everything I missed. Information filled my mind, building a headache that felt crippling. Ignoring it, I blinked through the droopiness of my eyes and focused on my dad. An hour went by before he finished and it made me realize how much I have been slacking around here. "Dad, I'll be around more."

He waved his hand. "Hijo, this will all go to you soon. Till then enjoy the time you have left."

I know his trying to lessen the burden, but I also know how much it weights. I would never leave him alone to carry it. I couldn't, I loved him too much to let him suffer alone. We stand together. He thought us this, and I wouldn't be the one to turn against him. Not now, not ever. That's why I shook my head, disagreeing with him.

My dad rolled his eyes. "Kid, you're as fucken stubborn as your parents. Take the free pass. Instead, how about you tell me who is girl is that you bring this weekend. Your mom already asked me a million question like I fucken have answers, so please spare me anymore fucken headaches and give me some information to pass onto her."

My lips titled up and instead of showing my dad how much the topic of Lina affect me, I dropped my head back on the arm rest and shut my eyes. I was turning into one of those oozy little thing's whenever someone brought up the topic of Lina. Anytime she came into the room, my attention is a magnet too her. Every time I see her venture out a little, I feel like a fucken proud ass boyfriend. Fuck. The word alone felt so forging in my mouth that I had to repeat it as if I don't know the damn meaning of it.

At the party, I gave her the choice. I left it up to her. I wanted her to choose. I know how little she allows herself to put herself first. I know that her first thought is always everyone else and I hate that. My first thought is her. She deserves to be someone everything, someone first and last thought. She's mine. In my mind, in my heart, in my stomach, squeezing and squeezing until I can barely breath. Then she smiles, and I take the biggest gulp of air. Her attention, it's rewarding in so many ways.

When she got up and came to me I felt like my heart would thump out of my chest. She chose. She chose me. It could have been the very first time she thought about only what she wants, and she chose me. The proudness I felt in me when she walked over despite everyone watching felt all consuming. Hell, that girl was going to end up having me on my knees.

"What do you want to know?"

My dad chuckled. "Well for one, what the hell made you decide to settle down."

I thought about it for a moment. Settle down sounded like you have to give something up. As if the moment you chose a person, your tied. Chained to them in ways that are devastating. It wasn't like that. With Lina, I felt like I was gaining something. Something more important then all the rest. A moment of serenity. She never made me feel like I had to jump out of my skin to be someone else. I never felt like I have to change. Actually the opposite. I felt like I can be me. The little boy I forgot I really was. The little boy who bounces on his heel's with excitement and feel's idiotic things like love.

Lina give's me something I lost. Something I forgot all together. A moment of happiness that isn't tied to anything. A reminder of the little boy inside me, and I kind of want to know him.

I swallowed, licking my lips as I tried to find an answer that would make sense to my dad. His not stupid, but emotion's and words the express emotion tend to confuse him. I decide to turn it around on him. "What do you feel for mom?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Love." confidence bleeding his words. Mom would be so proud, we all proud. We know how much it takes for him to feel his emotions.

"Before you felt that, what did you feel?"

He thought about it for a second, chewing my words as if this was some therapy session and I instantly found myself feeling guilty. I didn't want him uncomfortable, or stressing out. But after a second, he sighed, running a hand through his thick browned hair and looked at me. "Lot's of things. I guess the biggest one I remember is how hard it was to get her off my mind. It was like she was always there, no matter what I was doing, who I was talking, to she was there."

I nodded, feeling that. Understand that. "That's what I feel."

He blinked at me, clear understanding wavering around his eyes and taking the rest of those stress sparks he had away. "Can I give some advice that you father gave me?"

A smiled tugged onto my face. "Anytime."

"First one is about trust. If you want her to trust you, you're going to have to give some of yours away. The second is about love. If you want love, you're going to have to be willing to go thought pain in return because those two come hand in hand. It might not come from her, but the world will find a way to tear you apart. Your going have to learn to keep loving even in pain, even when you can't see a clear path, even when your on your knees bleeding, your still going to have to keep loving."

Emotion's swirled around my chest, understand those were my fathers' words. At some point those words left his mouth and now I have them. Maybe I don't have a memory of him, or a reminder but I have his advice. The realization crashed into me at a hundred miles a hour and I couldn't do anything but heave through it. I wanted something of his, something more then material and now I have it. I have his advise, a little piece of his mind. A little piece of him that I have never had.

My whole life, I loved a man I never met. Never even seen in person and I was always gutted by the realization that I had nothing of his. Not a single reminded, or memory, or anything to hold onto. To value. To attach to my love for him. To this bubble in my chest that consumes a part of me I don't understand. I had nothing to attach to it and now I do. I have his advise. And maybe that's nothing to some, but it's everything to me. It clouded my eyes in tears that burned like a motherfucker.

I could love her through the pain. I know I could because I found a way to love everyone around me and deal with the pain thumping in that hallow part of my soul.

Relief filled my chest in ways that took pound's off, and I felt the collapse of my chest. I blinked at my dad, knowing my words were going to come out rough but not caring. "Did you love my father? The same as you love mom?"

His gaze landed on me, softened at the rim but edged in the center. For a second we just looked at each other, searching for something beyond out gazes. Beyond the words and emotions, something more. Something to hold onto too, something to fill the little bit of gaps my father left behind. The sad part was nothing could feel it, nothing could wipe away the hollowness of him.

His tone hardened by an inch as he started talking again, "Your father saved me. He thought me how to love, by loving me. When he found me, I was gone, so far gone that I couldn't feel anything. Your father took me, and every day when I thought his love for me couldn't get stronger, he showed me it could. You father gave me something that no one else could, peace. At that time, it was stronger then the emptiness in my soul. Your father's love saved me, hijo. I loved your father so much that I would have traded places with him if it was a chose. Your father, he owns a part of my soul from the grave. From wherever the fucker sits, he still holds me together."

Tears glistened my eyes, and the lump in the back of my throat is fucken tugged so hard that I had to take a big breath of air. I needed more. Right now, I needed more. Swallowing, I let my question out even if the answer frightened me a bit. "If he was alive, how different would our lives be?"

My dad laid a palm on my knee. "Not much different. Our house would be cleaner for one because the lunatic would wipe all the surfaces hourly. You would have more siblings most likely. I would definitely need a bigger bed that's for sure. And Ash's pet's, they would definitely not be allowed." he chuckled a little, a smile on his face so pure of happiness that it warmed my chest, "You know how your mom tries to shove all those green's down our throats? Yeah, your father would hold our mouths open for her. I'm pretty fucken sure he would beat me in chess, and give Kirsan a real challenge. And Aster would have another person to photograph."

I blinked at him. "Your love for mom, our family, it wouldn't change?"

I guess what I was asking is would they have all stayed together. Would they have all lived together. Been together and how the hell would have looked. A part of me wishes I could experience that but another part of me is afraid of how different that would have been. I love my parents, my siblings, and how much of that would change? I know it's just a what if and it's impossible, but it still crossed my mind to much.

My dad's lips titled up. "No hijo. Your dad loved your mom as much as I love her. We loved each other too. If he were around, you would just have another dad."

My chest collapsed at this words, relief shoving its way into my throat and chocking me whole. I always imagined if my dad were alive, they were have made mom choose. I can't imagine that. I can't imagine my dad without my mom. I can't imagine their love being different. Their love was a safe haven to me and some part of me was scared that if my father were alive it would have been different. My safe haven would have been different, or gone.

Before I could say anything else, a knocked came from the door. And we both lifted up into sitting positions despite the calling of torture in my body. Still relying heavily on the couch to keep me up, I took the damn brownie point because at least I was up and not knocked out right here. My dad looked at me, scanning me before tipping his head back to the door. "What?"

The door creaked open just a the slightest and a kid, around my age stuck his head in. My dad narrowed his hardened to the edge look at him. "If you stand there like that, I'll shut the fucken door on your neck, and then what happens son?" he turned to look at me.

My role. This was where I step into it. I wipe my hands with blood, chill my own vein's, and zone into nothing but void. It not hard really, to step into this role. It's at the tip of my fingertips, tingling to get out, always. Stepping into an hollow field it feels like stepping into a second skin that I own. I do it in the blink of an eyes. Stepping in is easy, it's the getting out part that's the real bitch. Getting out is like having to go against the strongest current. One day, I'm afraid I won't make it out. Then everyone will truly meet the monster buried under my skin, the one with glowing eyes, and cannon teeth. The one that bleed's torment and sings with horror. He even scares me.

With a menacing grin that could made people run the other way I looked up at the kid. "Snap, snap. No more head."

The kid's eyes widened in fear as he glanced between us, gulping visibly. Jesus. Did he actually think we were going to kill him for knocking on the door? We aren't psycho's, well... that's debatable. Gripping the arm rest, I lifted up to my feet. My vein's pulsed so hard that I felt the thump of it in my ears. But I lifted my attention back to the kid. "Either speak up, or get the fuck out."

The kid swallowed again, fear wavering around his eyes and creasing his brows. I would have laugh if I wasn't so fucken tired. Plus, my stomach was starting to grumble, needing some food. The poor kid opened the door more, pushing his hand forward with a rose in it. "I was—uh— told to give you this." he said, looking at my dad. My dad, to this day gets my mom a single rose every day. No matter what, it always shows up.

My dad lifted up to his feet beside me and crossed the room, grabbing the flower from the kid. The kid didn't wait, he turned and ran out the door like he had fire up his ass. Good for him. He made the right decision.

My dad chuckled, closing the door behind the kid and turned back to me, "Coming home with me?"