Out

Time.

The truth was- Dmitri didn't know where he was going to go. He just knew he had to leave. Things had gotten scary. They were good, too good and Dmitri didn't have a clue what to do with that. He couldn't understand why Nicodemus loved him, and he never would. He was getting in too deep, falling too hard into love. It had to end he told himself. It had to end now before it could get deeper- before it could hurt more. He tried not to look at Nicodemus as he got into the cab. He knew he hurt Nicodemus, but maybe it was good, maybe he could find someone normal. The way Nicodemus had looked at him... he would never forget it. He was so hurt. Dmitri shook his head, trying to get that picture out of his head.

"So, where are you going to?" The driver asked, and Dmitri blanked. He had a little money saved in his suit pockets, he always carried a little just in case he needed it. That's something you learned with an abusive parent- always, always be prepared to run.

"I.... Can you take me to the nearest bus station?"

"Sure can."

Dmitri tried not to think about it as the cab carried him to the bus station. He kept telling himself that it was the right decision, that Nicodemus would have hated him if he hadn't left. But now he'd left... and all he wanted to do was go back and let Nicodemus love him. He began to think of Vadim, of the times when Vadim was kind, when Vadim was a good dad. Sometimes Dmitri really missed his father. Maybe he would go back home. It hadn't really been that bad, had it?
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When Nicodemus got sad, he got distant. Even more so than he usually was- but right now he just wanted to go home. Home. He loved his house, he loved his parents, but had Dmitri been right? Did he really take them for granted? He shuddered at the thought of Dmitri, he wasn't just heartbroken, he was angry and confused. He didn't understand how they could go from so happy and in love one day to broken up the next? And how long had Dmitri known he was going to leave? Had it been his own fault for drinking after he had said he wasn't? Should he have fought harder to keep Dmitri there with him? He sat on the balcony chewing his knuckles. His parents wouldn't be there for a couple days, what was supposed to do until then? And what was he supposed to do with all the love he kept for Dmitri? There was nowhere for it to go now. He would take that love and pour it into something that didn't need it in the slightest. Nicodemus couldn't understand. He would've done anything for Dmitri.
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He didn't go anywhere but home, sleeping in the cheapest motels he could find along the way and living off vending machine snacks. Nicodemus had said he couldn't live off junk, but he had been wrong. He had been wrong about lots of things. He had told Nicodemus that he would hurt him, right? He had given him fair warning, so why had he looked at him like that? Like Dmitri had broken him? Like he had emptied every emotion out of Nicodemus? Why couldn't Nicodemus understand how Dmitri would keep him back? How bad Dmitri was for him? Nicodemus find someone else in due time he was kind, and beautiful. He was good- too good.

Dmitri was tired from taking bus after bus. The stench of spit and old sweat, the sound of phlegmy coughing and babies crying. He was sure it had begun to show in his face, just how tired he was. For once he was glad to be home. Back in an environment he understood. Back in his dirty old room where the blinds drooped and the mattress sagged in the lonely corner. He took a deep breath trying to ignore Nicodemus' voice in his head as he stared down the trailer door. He raised his hand to knock before putting it back down. Nicodemus would be so disappointed if he went back home... he didn't want to disappoint him. What a silly thought. What was a little more damage when he'd already been so terrible? He had abandoned Nicodemus just like his mother had abandoned him. It suddenly hit him all at once like a bag of bricks to the head. He felt the pinch in his face as he began to cry. What had he done? Why had he left him there? He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hands, turning to go before the door opened.
"I knew you'd come home."
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"Do you want to talk about it?" Franklin asked watching Nicodemus out the corner of his eye. Aubrey and Michael drove behind them in Nicodemus truck, Franklin had wanted to be the one to talk to Nicodemus about what had happened, and figured Nicodemus' snarky younger brother would be of no help.

"Not really." Nicodemus said quietly as he watched trees pass them in green blurs out the window.

"Well, I think we should. I think it would help you feel better. What happened?"

"I don't know dad. We were happy one day, and the next he left me. He just... left me." He sighed, lowering his voice to help keep it together.
"I think it may have been my fault."

Franklin looked at him for a moment. He was almost unrecognizable. His under-eyes were heavy with lack of sleep and his mouth drooped sadly. It hurt Franklin to see his son this way, he was going to find some way to help him- no matter what it took.

"How so?"

"Dad I...."

Franklin looked back to the road. He knew.
"Nicodemus, remember what we told you. If it happened again-"

"I know. I know, and I agree. I think I should go."

As much as Nicodemus hated rehab. How stale the air was, how much of a cliche everyone was, he knew he needed the help.

"I'm very sorry that this is what it took to make you want help. We just want you to live the most fulfilling life you possibly can. We love you, we want you around for a long, long time."