Janis Sarkisian and the absolutely, unbelievably perfect family

Gentle natured

Just some Janis and Damian bonding time...don't mind me.

Enjoy!!

The faucet is running. It's clear water turning a pink colour as Damian wrinces out the flannel he is using to mop up the blood. I look away, not wanting nor needing to see the amount of blood I had just lost.

"We'll throw the soiled sheets away and change them for a new set." Damian said quietly as he worked, "Ma won't notice so you don't have to worry. I'll help you wipe down the walls as well, no point scaring her for no reason."

I nod along, biting my lip nervously, "Do you think I should tell her?" I ask, tugging at loose thread on the tank top I was now wearing while Damian cleaned my wound, "Will she be mad?"

Damians eyes flicker up to mine as he locks me in a stare, "She'll be upset that she wasn't told by the woman who bought you here but not at you. After all it isn't your fault." We slip into silence for a moment and I can tell he is dying to ask me something, "Janis when did this happen?" He asked, wringing out the flannel and turing the faucet off, "This wound is fresh and deep."

I mean back against the bathtub, closing my eyes and tilting my head back slightly, "Mr Anderson, my I last foster father, found out I had told Mrs Norbury, my case worker, about the way he was treating me." I choke a laugh out, "Let's just say he wasn't happy. I guess I pushed him over the edge because he really went for me."

I glance at Damian, who is pulling some antiseptic wipes out of the first aid kit and nodding along, masking his reaction incredibly well, "I'm usually quite good at dodging his attacks and getting away but that time was diffent. He caught me. I don't remember much but I screamed and the neighbours called the police. Next thing I know I'm on my way here with Norbury, my shoulder covered in plasters and medical tape."

Pulling a wipe out of the packet Damian grimaces at me, "This is going to sting." He says, sapping the woke around the edge of the wound, his eyes flicking from my face to the wound every few seconds. "Sorry." He mutters when I hiss out a pained breath and fight my own instincts to flinch away.

I shake my head with a humourless smile, "Its fine. I'm okay." I promise, looking away again as he dabs the wound.

"I'm going to ignore the blatant lie you just told me." He stated, "Because you're not okay. I didn't come into your room because I could smell the blood like a hound. I heard screaming and thought something was wrong." He presses a gauze pad over the wound, pressing it down firmly so my shoulder moves forward from the weight and aches painfully, taking it down and then moving away. Admiring his handy work, "All done."

I peered over my shoulder, taking in Damians handiwork with a small smile, "Thanks. I guess we better go clean up the bedroom before your mother wakes up. I don't need to be more of a bother then I already have been."

Damian nudged me gently, "Don't think like that. It's not like you ment to reopen a wound and bleed everywhere. Besides you're no bother, it's nice to have another person in the house it's been real quiet since my dad left."

My head snapped up to look at him, "Your dad left? Why?" I blurted out, cursing under my breath when Damian seemed to grimace at the questions, "Sorry you don't have to answer that. It's not my business."

Shrugging Damian pulled me up off the floor and made his way into my room, "It's alright, if I didn't want to talk about it I shouldn't have bought it up. Let's get these sheets downstairs, I fancy a cup of hot chocolate! How about you?"

I nodded, looking over at my alarm clock, it read 05:43, pretty early still. The sky was only just beginning to brighten outside, turning a yellowy red colour around the edges but still full enough of stars, "I'll grab a cloth and wipe the walls down, then I'll join you." When he looked at me scepticaly I quirked a small smile and added, "Promise." To the end.

Wiping down the walls was somewhat traumatic, it dyed my hands a weird red colour and made me feel as if I was covering up for a crime, which I guess in some ways I was. Damian popped in after a little while and helped me finish it off so eventually the wall was almost as good as new.

"Come on," Damian said, pulling me up as I stared at my red hands in annoyance, "Let's got clean up."

---

I took a small sip of the hot chocolate and felt my entire body relax, humming in satisfaction I emailed softly at Damian and raised an eyebrow, "This is really good. Like amazing actually."

Damian beamed at me, "I have my talents!" He exclaimed, coming to flop down on the stool next to me with his own cup, "Amazing hot chocolate making skills is only one of many!"

I snigger into my cup, rolling my eyes goodnaturedly and taking another sip. It was strange to me how I had only known Damian for a short period of time but he had already gained my trust so quickly. It worried me a little, I didn't want to grow attached to something I knew wouldn't last.

"Why did your mother want to foster me Damian?" I asked suddenly, placing my mug down on the table and turning to him, my face serious.

Damian placed his mug down besides mine, frowning and biting his lip as he figured out a way to answer my question, "When my dad left the house was so empty, so void of joy. I guess she wanted someone to fill that space. Liven things up a little." His eyes seemed to glaze over a little bit as he spoke, "She was probably hopeing we'd become friends." He added, looking anywhere but at me, "I don't have many of those."

I placed my hand over the top of one of his, squeezing it the same way he had mine the night before, "You've got a friend here if you want one." I said, breaking one of my most important rules for a boy I hardly knew, "Although I find it hard to believe you have no friends. I mean this might come as a surprise to you but you're pretty amazing compared to other people our age."

Damian fought off a smile, "Thanks but it's true. The moment people found out I was gay it was as if I had been smothered in people repellent. No one would talk to me." He frowned again, "My dad leaving kinda just made things worse."

"Damian, I have a question." I began to say, slowly, "Which you don't have to answer by the way..." I added nervously.

Cracking a smile, Damian nudged into me lightly, "My least favourite kind of question. Okay shoot!"

"Did your dad leave you because you're gay?" I tilted my head to the side, my expression sombre as he heaved a sigh, nodding very slightly.

"My Father was very proper. He believed in everything that I wasn't. I tried to make him proud but his expectations for me were so high. I didn't think I was ever good enough for him." There was a confused look on Damians face as if he didn't understand what he could have done to deserve such treatment.

"I'm so sorry Damian." I said quietly, squeezing his hand again, "You didn't deserve to be treated that way. No one does." He leans into me slightly, his sad expression staying but his eyes lightening a little, "He doesn't know what he's missing. I'd be proud if you were my son."

People like Damian were hard to come by. They were kind to the point I could hurt them, gentle natured and good friends. If I had been looking to make friends, Damian would of been the first person I picked, so maybe it was good we were thrown together.