Reaper's Touch

Gus: The Ending, The Beginning

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection."
- Sigmund Freud

A few weeks after his "breakthrough" Gus sat in Jeff's office once again, but today they weren't doing EMDR. The sessions had become so intense Jeff had started scheduling breaks in between them so Gus could recharge.

"So Gus, today I wanna talk to you about life after here. What're your plans?" Jeff asked.

"I told you I'm headed to Chicago. Meet up with Lucas and Nora and the rest of my friends from before," Gus said.

"How are you going to get there?"

Gus shrugged. "Somehow. I'll figure it out."

"You have no money."

"Never stopped me before."

"Are you planning on prostituting yourself again?"

Gus turned red. That was, in fact, exactly what he'd been planning to do. It was the quickest way to make good money besides selling drugs, which he didn't have.

"Maybe."

"How do you think that will affect you?" Jeff asked.

Gus shrugged again. "It don't. It's just work. Just sex. It means nothin' to me. I just let 'em do whatever they want to me."

"Have you ever had flashbacks while engaging in sexual acts with men?" Jeff asked pointedly.

"Um... yeah... sometimes," Gus said uncomfortably.

"So it does affect you."

"I gotta get money someway. Don't got nothin' else to sell except maybe my portraits, but those don't make half as much."

"No, it's understandable. From an early age you were taught that your body wasn't yours and that it was something that could be used freely for anyone's pleasure at any time they felt like it. Your abusers taught you that you weren't a person. You were only a thing that could be used, abused, beaten, scarred and tortured. You had no voice. You couldn't refuse. But now you can."

"Sure. But I still don't got money. Havin' 'self-worth and boundaries' ain't gonna get me to Chicago," Gus said, making air quotations around Jeff's familiar words.

"What if I told you there's another way to get there?" Jeff asked.

"What other way?" Gus asked, intrigued.

"Me. You fly out there with me when I leave in a few months. Your time here will be finishing up around then anyway. You can stay with me in the city. We can continue the EMDR and work we started here. I know living with a man might be triggering for you, so I'm just offering. You can say no," Jeff said.

Gus was speechless, his mouth gaping open. "Um... are you serious?"

"Only if you want to. It's your choice."

"Hell yeah I'll do it!" Gus said excitedly.

He jumped out of his chair to hug Jeff.

"Nobody ever did anything like this for me before!" he exclaimed.

Jeff embraced him. "Well I think it's time someone started taking care of you. You've taken care of yourself your whole life."

Gus was crying tears of joy. He still cried easily, but he wasn't really embarrassed about it anymore. "Thank you, Jeff."

"I can give you a job too. I've seen your art, and you'd make an amazing portrait artist at the studio. Not a lot of people can offer that specialty. Portraits are tough."

"What? Tattoos? Me? Seriously?" Gus asked excitedly.

"Not at first. Everyone goes through an apprenticeship. Tattooing is different than just drawing and requires a lot of practice and learning, but you've got the raw talent. I pay minimum wage for apprentices so it won't be much, but you interested?"

"Fuck yes! That would be sick!" Gus exclaimed.

Jeff laughed. "So this sounds better than your other plan right?"

"A million times better! Why are you doin' this for me?"

Jeff shrugged. "You're not the first one. Certain kids who come in here... they just need more support than what they have. I'm looking to move to a bigger place and open a halfway house for the ranch addicts who've aged out of the system. Help 'em build a life. Now I do have a rule though. You have to stay clean. I'll be requiring both regular and random drug tests. If you go back to using, deal's off."

"I'll stay clean! I promise!"

"As long as you do, we won't have any problems. Oh, and I'd like you to pay rent. We'll sit down and crunch the numbers and see what you can afford. My unofficial halfway house is about teaching life skills, and rent is part of that. I'll expect you to pay affordable portions of other bills and food too. That okay?"

"Yeah! I'll pay anything!"

"I don't want you to 'pay anything'. Just what you can afford on minimum wage. Otherwise you might do crazy shit to get the money, like we just talked about, and that's not the point of what I'm trying to teach you."

"Jeff, I don't know what to say. You're the only person besides Gina who's cared about me enough to really help me, not just with this but with all the shit that happened to me and the PTSD. I don't know how to thank you."

Jeff chuckled. "You already did. A few times actually."

"I don't mean this to be weird, but... I love you... like a person would love a dad," Gus said, embarrassed. "I never had a dad."

Jeff was silent, and Gus was scared he'd offended him or freaked him out, but when he could raise his eyes off the floor he saw that Jeff had tears in his too.

"Gus, I love you too, like a dad would love a son. I'm sorry nobody else ever saw you that way. You deserve better than what life has given you."

"Could I... maybe sometimes call you dad?" Gus mumbled awkwardly.

"I'd be honored if you did," Jeff said.

They hugged each other again, both of them crying now.

"It's just like my book," Gus said softly.

"Huh?" Jeff asked, pulling away to look at him.

Gus hadn't realized he'd said the words out loud. "Oh nothin'. It's a stupid kid's book. One of my foster moms gave it to me, and I really loved her so I kept it."

"What book?"

"It's fuckin' stupid. Just forget it."

"Tell me," Jeff said.

"It's called the Boxcar Children," Gus mumbled.

"What's it about?"

"These homeless kids who don't got parents, they find this boxcar off a train in the woods, and they live in it. They got a grandpa lookin' for 'em, but they on the run 'cause they think he's an asshole, but he's really nice in real life. At the end of the book he finds 'em, shows 'em he ain't a douche, and they get to live in his house. They keep the boxcar too. Put it right there in the yard because they made it a home and they really loved it. There's lots of other books too, it's a series. Like, mysteries and stuff. But I never read 'em, only this one. It's my favorite thing I own."

"I can see why that's your favorite book."

Gus shrugged. "'Cause it's for first graders and I can't read nothin' else?"

"No. It's because you've always searched for that ending and never found it," Jeff said.

"Well... 'till now," Gus said.

"Sometimes children's books carry the most wisdom. I don't think you're missing out on reading the harder stuff."

"Don't tell nobody that's my favorite book, okay? People finally like me here."

Jeff laughed. "Your secret's safe with me."