The Fraternity Files Part Four: The Summons

Chapter 12: The Storm Before the Calm

“Oww!” Ryan complained under his breath as Matt hauled him across the room. “Jesus Christ, Matt! Ok! Let me go!” He tried to pull his arm away, but Matt only tightened his grip as he stopped in front of the Correction Room door.

“Look at me,” he commanded his little brother icily as Ryan tried once more to free himself from his vice-like grip, and with a petulant scowl, Ryan obeyed.

“Sorry,” he muttered automatically as stony blue eyes met his own.

“You are in a lot of trouble already, Little Bro,” Matt admonished softly, “so, in the interest of not adding to your difficulties, I suggest you watch your step.”

“Ok. Sorry,” Ryan mumbled again with more genuine contrition, his eyes brimming. He hadn’t really meant to resist in the first place. It was just so hard being manhandled that way in front of his little brothers.

“Ok, then,” Matt softened his tone. “The first thing you are going to do before anything else, when we get in there, is fix things with Steve . . . .” Ryan looked away, chewing his lip. “I understand your feelings about Danny, Bro, but you both brought these consequences on yourselves; Steve had nothing to do with it, and the way you and I are about to talk, you cannot afford to be pushing him away. Do you hear me?”

Ryan was still gnawing on his lower lip in an effort not to cry, but he nodded in response to his older brother’s question. “All right, Bud,” Matt encouraged more empathetically, “let’s go.” He moved his hand from Ryan’s arm to his shoulder as he opened the door and, steering his little brother before him; he once more entered the most forbidding room in the house, pulling the door softly shut behind him.

Steve was slumped at the table, his back to the door, his head propped against his hand. He stood quickly, however, and turned to face his brothers as he heard the door click shut.

Ryan was still fighting back the tears raised by Matt’s stern rebuke and Steve’s stomach knotted as he looked at him. Wordlessly, he held out his arm, meeting his partner’s eyes as his little brother snuggled against him and buried his face.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan choked and Steve tightened his arm, pressing his cheek to the top of his little brother’s head.

“I know you are,” he whispered.

“I was just so worried about Danny!”

“I know, Bro,” Steve repeated softly. “It’s ok.”

A long silence went by as Ryan tried to gather the courage to ask the question foremost on his mind. “Are you going to cane me?” he squeaked, finally, and tentatively he raised his eyes to meet those of his big brother.

Neither Matt nor Steve was prepared for such a forthright question. Silence filled the room once more and Steve swallowed hard as he looked into the imploring blue eyes. That was all the answer Ryan needed. He hid his face again, pressing it hard into his big brother’s shoulder as tears started to streak his cheeks.

“Oh, Ry,” Steve couldn’t help the sigh that escaped as he pulled his little brother closer.

Matt, too, sighed a little and pulled a chair out from the table. “Have a seat, Bro,” he commanded gently, but Ryan did not appear to hear him. All he had been thinking about, since the moment he had seen it, was that cane. Even as he had tried to focus on Danny and support him, that dreadful implement had loomed behind him, its presence taunting him with the consequences he himself would soon have to face. Now, it had finally succeeded in driving every other thought from his mind, and though he heard the direction Matt had given him, he just could not let go of his big brother.

When patient waiting produced no further success, Steve, at Matt’s silent behest, pulled a chair for himself from the table behind them, and, easing Ryan down into the chair Matt had previously pulled, he sat too. “Come on, Bro,” he coaxed quietly, as Matt took a chair and sat down across from them. “We need to talk about this.”

“Why?” Ryan rubbed his eyes on his sleeve in a vain attempt to stop his tears. His brothers were still waiting patiently, but he could feel their eyes on him. “What is there to talk about?” he croaked, finally, his cheeks burning.

“We need you to understand some things, Ry,” Steve responded softly.

“I know why I’m in trouble!” Ryan protested huskily. “I got in a fight with Mcarthy! Can we just do this please? And get it over with?”

“Do you understand why you are in more trouble than Danny?” Matt asked gently.

“Yes,” Ryan choked into his arm, “because I’m older.”

“Well, Bud,” Matt agreed quietly, “that’s true. You are older, and consequently, you should have known better, but there is a lot more to it than that. It’s not just that you are older; you are also Danny’s big brother, and on the night in question, especially, it was your job to be looking out for him.”

“I was looking out for him!” Ryan returned indignantly. “I always look out for him!” The smart of that accusation was beyond any that had so far been leveled at him, and he swiped bitterly at his cheeks. Steve looked down, pressing his fingers to his eyes and swallowing hard. He knew and understood how very seriously Ryan took his responsibilities as Danny’s big brother.

“I know you try to,” Matt acknowledged soothingly. His concerned eyes strayed in his partner’s direction, but Steve would not look at him, and he sighed inwardly as he went on. “I know how very much you care about Danny; he is very lucky to have you for a big brother. I know that you look out for him the best way you can and I know how much you want to protect him from everyone and anything that might hurt him. It is the way you were looking out for him in this instance that we have to talk about.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan demanded throatily.

“These circumstances were one hundred percent foreseeable and preventable, Bud,” Matt scolded. “What on earth possessed you all to be talking about Kevin’s situation in the middle of the common room to begin with, huh?” Ryan bit his lip and bowed his head. That was a point he had never thought about. “I know that Danny was not thinking clearly, and that’s understandable. It was on you to stop that conversation, Ry. Instead you perpetuated it.”

“I’m sorry!” Ryan sobbed, swiping desperately once more at his cheeks.

“You know the rules about fighting, Bro,” Matt continued in a gentler tone. “You lost your head and got right in the middle of a situation that should never have taken place to begin with.”

“Ok!” Ryan huffed, hiding his face once more. “I know! I’m sorry!”

“The worst part is though, that a few weeks later, when you already knew you were facing consequences for your part in the first fiasco, you went after Mcarthy again. That shows a blatant lack of respect for The Code, and a lack of self control that, as a quality in one who is in line for the presidency, is particularly disturbing. That is the part I cannot get over, Ry,” Matt reiterated quietly. “And,” he added softly, “that is what the counsel had a hard time getting past as well.” Ryan did not look up, nor did he respond, so finally Matt continued in as gentle a tone as possible. “There were those on the counsel, Bud, who wanted to call another mandatory meeting, who thought you should be held publicly accountable. And then there were those who thought you should step down, that another junior should assume the presidency next year in your place . . .”

“Fine by me,” Ryan sobbed, finally. “Who wants to be president anyway? All it does is bring stress and misery and I’m obviously going to suck at it so maybe that would be best . . . . ”

“Nonsense, Bro,” Matt soothed. “You are not going to suck at it. Jay and I picked you for good reasons. What do you think he’d say if he heard you talking like that, huh?” Ryan couldn’t answer. “You have worked very hard to get where you are both on the team and in the house, and I think you are going to be a very good president. Neither Steve nor I were ok with either of the above suggestions, and it would have been a cold day in hell before we allowed either of those things to happen. Steve would have stepped down first,” he added quietly.

“You’re damn right I would have!” Steve seethed. Matt shot him a warning glance and Steve looked away, chewing his lip hard as he did his best to get himself together. He knew getting emotional now himself was just about the last thing that would help Ryan, but this was so hard. It was so much harder than he had even imagined it would be. ‘If only Mcarthy had thrown a punch,’ he thought sourly, ‘just one fucking god damn punch!’ Maybe then he would have had a little more bargaining power; maybe he could have been more help to his little brothers, more help especially to Ryan. ‘This is all my fault,’ he rebuked himself for the hundredth time. ‘It’s all my fucking fault! And I can’t do even one god damn thing to make it better.’ The bitter inner battle waged on and Matt cursed silently to himself as he returned his eyes to his chastened younger brother. He knew his partner well enough to know exactly what direction Steve’s thoughts were taking at the moment, but this was neither the time nor the place for him to address it.

“You and Danny have a lot of friends, Ry,” he went on at last in the same reassuring tone, “and we had to have more than one meeting, believe me, because the situation was so emotionally charged. There were those who felt that to punish the two of you without punishing Mcarthy was the very height of injustice, but he didn’t throw the first punch, did he?” Ryan shook his head as Matt paused. “No, nor did he return the punches that were thrown.” Ryan brushed wordlessly once more at the tears that were streaking his cheeks, and Matt continued quietly. “This is the compromise, Bud, understand? It wasn’t my first choice, and it certainly wasn’t Steve’s . . . .” Matt glanced once more in his partner’s direction. This time, Steve caught and held his eyes. Finally, taking a deep breath, he sat up straighter and looked earnestly into Ryan’s anguished face.

“No,” he agreed softly. “No, it was not my first choice, for sure. But . . . look at me, Bro,” he commanded as Ryan covered his face with his hands. “What you did,” he went on as his little brother did his best to meet his eyes, “is very serious, Ry. It goes against everything this fraternity stands for. The counsel . . .,” his voice cracked, “has placed you on probation.” Ryan looked down, placing his head in his hands. “This can’t happen again, bud,” Steve admonished huskily. “If it does, you will be forced to step aside, and maybe that’s not a big deal to you, but it is to me and Matt. That is why, after listening to the other alternatives, we agreed to do this. We have to make sure this doesn’t happen again, Ry, understand?” Ryan nodded, but he didn’t look up; he just continued to wipe futilely at his cheeks.

Silently, Matt and Steve waited once more, but at last, when it became clear that Ryan had nothing more to say, Matt got to his feet and turned with a reluctant heart to take the cane from the wall. Steve stood too, as Ryan clutched the sides of his head, and pulled his little brother up and into his arms. “I’m here,” he whispered as Ryan laid his head against his shoulder. Ryan clung to him, rubbing his face on his shirt, and pressing into his chest as Matt turned to face them. “I’m going to get you through this, Bro,” Steve whispered. “I promise.”

Matt waited, cane in hand, until Ryan had calmed some, but finally he knew the best thing he could do for both his brothers was to get this over with. He did not have the heart to demand that Ryan turn completely and face him to receive the sentence as was the tradition. He, however, did feel it important to have some of his little brother’s attention. “Look at me please, Ry,” he directed softly, and obediently, Ryan did so. Steve tightened his arm, and brought his thumb up to gently wipe away the tears that were still streaking his little brother’s face. “Ryan Justin Sanderson,” Matt began in the same official tone Steve had used with Danny. “You have committed a serious infraction against The Code by attacking a senior member of this fraternity. Fighting at any time is not permitted, as you know, and as the president’s immediate successor your actions are inexcusable. The counsel has consequently placed you on probation. Any further incidents of this type will result in the loss of your position as well as possible expulsion from the fraternity. As punishment for this violation, it is the decree of the counsel that you shall receive 15 strokes of the cane to be delivered on the bare. Go on, and assume the position, Ry,” he commanded softly at last.

It was amazing how terrible and yet how calming those words were. Fifteen strokes was so much! It was so much, but in a few minutes, now, this whole big nightmare would be over.

Ryan hid his face once more, and balled his fists in Steve’s shirt, and then with one deep, shaky breath, he exhaled weeks’ worth of anticipation and guilt.

“It’s all right,” Steve whispered as Matt began pulling the chairs away. Ryan was still clinging to him, and, sensing his little brother’s inability to process the direction he had been given, Steve turned him and gently guided him over the table. “It’s going to be all right,” he promised once more into his ear. With another deep breath, Ryan closed his eyes. He felt his brother’s soothing hand leave his back and his stomach began to churn as Steve made his way to the other side of the table. A moment later he felt his big brother grip his hands reassuringly, and he shivered as Matt lowered his shorts to expose his still vaguely pink bottom.

“Count the strokes, please, Ry,” his oldest brother directed firmly and Ryan clutched Steve’s hands harder as he felt the cool lithe wood against his skin. He thought of Kevin and Danny in the other room and bit hard on his lip. ‘I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry . . .,’ he promised himself. His stomach knotted and he felt his buttocks clench as Matt drew back. He was trying to relax, he knew it would be better if he did, but it was so hard.

The next moment the cane hissed down and Ryan’s face contorted as it contacted him squarely in the center of his bottom. “One,” he choked as he finally got his breath. It hurt more than he possibly could have ever imagined. With barely a pause, Matt aimed the next stroke below the first and Ryan inhaled sharply, gritting his teeth as it landed. “Two,” he managed finally.

Whoosh Crack! The cane came down again. “AH!” Ryan grimaced. “Three!” Whoosh Crack! The cane snapped down again and Ryan threw his head back, trying his hardest to bear the excruciating burn quietly. “Four,” he uttered shakily, at last. Other than the silent tears streaking his face and the purple marks beginning to form on his big brother’s hands, there was nothing so far to indicate the agonizing pain he was in. He had, so far, kept his resolve. The next stroke, however, caught him just below his bottom and he screamed, frantically, pulling at his brother’s hands.

Determinedly, Steve held on. His throat and stomach tightened as Ryan crumpled in frustration against the table, and he squeezed his little brother’s hands consolingly, but he was resolved not to let go; he would not allow this horrible punishment to go on one moment more than was necessary, and allowing Ryan a break now would only make the rest of the punishment harder.

“Hang in there, Ry,” he coaxed, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re doing great.” The genuine pride in his big brother’s tone caused Ryan to relax slightly and he clutched Steve’s hands tighter. He could do this. He took another little breath. With his big brother beside him, he could do anything.

Matt did not slow longer than was necessary for Steve to help still Ryan’s movement. He too was determined to get this over with. He was an experienced disciplinarian and he knew that long pauses only added to the anxiety and suffering of the one being punished. With his little brother on the receiving end, therefore, he was especially determined to keep things moving.

Whoosh Crack! “Ahhh!” Ryan threw his head back. “God!” he uttered through clenched teeth. “Five!” Woosh/Crack! The cane whipped down again, catching him once more on the tender underside of his bottom and he shrieked. “Owww! Owww! Jesus Christ, OWWW! Matt, please! please! I’m sorry!”

Tears started to streak Steve’s cheeks as he tightened his hold on Ryan’s wrists. His little brother’s nails were digging into his hands, now, but he hardly felt that. “Hang in there, Bro,” he choked.

Matt bit his lip, but he pressed on, determined still to get his brothers through this. “What stroke was that, Ry?” he prompted quietly.

“Six!” Ryan sobbed. Matt drew back again and panic set in. “No, Matt! Please! Please!” He tried to rise up but Steve’s firm grip kept him down.

“Stay still, Bro, stay still, I’m here . . .,” Steve encouraged brokenly. Ryan took a deep, calming breath and did his best to listen. The moment he became still, the cane landed.

“Seven!” he screeched. “Oww! Oww!”

“Hold him still,” Matt directed his partner firmly and Steve nodded as he took a firmer grip once more on Ryan’s arms. He was no longer capable of speaking in any comprehensible way. Matt’s heart beat faster as he drew back. He tried hard to focus on the task before him. He did not intend to pause at all anymore; he felt it was kinder not to. Both his little brothers were becoming more emotional by the moment and the anticipation of each stroke was only adding to their misery. Tears burned his own eyes, but he forced them back and aimed the cane once more, doing his best to find a clean spot among the mass of stripes in front of him.

“No! No! Matt, please!” Ryan protested as he felt the cane press warningly into his torn and burning skin. “Please!” he pleaded desperately as Matt drew back. It was to no avail; a moment later the cane fell, and Ryan screamed. Stroke after stroke now landed on his vulnerable backside, and his cries pierced the air, sending chills through both his older brothers. Gone was the resolve to bear the punishment quietly. Gone were his thoughts for Danny and Kevin. Gone were his thoughts for anything but the searing pain, now growing more intense with each angry red line that was raised.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Steve tried to soothe but he broke into sobs again as the eleventh stroke landed and Ryan pulled once more at his hands.

Matt too was affected. His face was ashen, and his stomach clenched as he thought of his two youngest brothers in the next room. How were they handling this? ‘And,’ he swallowed hard, ‘the soundproofing couldn’t possibly be blocking all this, could it?’ He took in the swollen, inflamed state of Ryan’s bottom, and paused as his younger brother’s choking sobs continued to fill the room. Steve was having an awful time containing him now as he fought to get his hands free, and as Matt’s eyes settled on his distraught partner, he made up his mind. “Two more, Little Bro,” he soothed. “Just two more and then it’s over, ok?” Steve looked up gratefully to meet Matt’s eyes. “Hang in there,” Matt mouthed silently and Steve nodded, doing his best to choke back his tears as he squeezed Ryan’s hands tighter in his own. Ryan too became calmer as he felt his big brother’s reassuring grip. Two more, two more strokes. He could take two more.

Quickly, it was done. Matt delivered the last two strokes in succession and Ryan bore them well. Clutching Steve’s hands and biting down hard on his lip, he managed not to move or cry out at all. He counted them faithfully, one after the other and now, finally, it was over. Steve let go of Ryan’s hands and tried to get himself as his little brother collapsed on the table in front of him.

Matt placed the cane back where it belonged and turned to face his brothers. They had never needed him more. Ryan was spent. He was too emotionally exhausted and in too much pain to move. He had no energy even to try and soothe the overpowering burn in his bottom. Matt looked briefly at his partner, but he was faring little better than Ryan, and seeing the helpless expression on Steve’s face, Matt quickly took charge.

“Come on, Little Bro,” he coaxed, placing a soothing hand on Ryan’s back. “You’re all right. Come on, now.” Keeping his hand on his little brother’s back and pinning his t-shirt so it would not brush his tender bottom, Matt raised Ryan slowly to his feet and wrapped him in his arms. “That’s it,” he soothed as his little brother snuggled against him. “That’s it. You’re all right,” he whispered again as Ryan clung to him. “I need you to do something for me, now, Bro. Can you do something for me?” Ryan nodded against his chest. “I need you to go ahead and step out of your shorts, ok?” Ryan nodded again and with slow, excruciating movements, he did as Matt had asked. “All right, Bro, you ready to get out of here?” Ryan nodded one more time into his brother’s chest and, with the effortless movements of a well-conditioned linebacker, Matt lowered his shoulder and scooped his little brother up. Ryan’s 5’10”, 185 pound frame was nothing to his oldest brother who was 6’2” and nearly 250 pounds. The searing pain Ryan was now experiencing made him nearly insensible to this newest assault on his dignity, and he did not protest in any way. Matt, after all, was his brother; he trusted him, and as hard as Matt could be, Ryan knew how very fond his oldest brother was of him.

Matt carried Ryan towards a black curtained doorway at the end of the small room, and Steve followed closely on his partner’s heels. The room they entered now, as Matt pushed aside the curtain, was even smaller than the one they were leaving. It had at one time been a tiny sun room connecting Steve’s bedroom with the sitting room. It had been closed in with the sitting room and soundproofed for use as a recovery room. Matt flipped the switch on the wall as they entered, shedding a somewhat dim amount of light on the room’s furnishings which were sparse, but comfortable. There was a long, somewhat ratty looking sofa against the far wall completed by an end table with a small lamp. There were two overstuffed armchairs and one or two other rickety chairs of varying sorts placed in no particular order around the room. A small half bath had also been added somewhere along the way, much to the relief of the countless numbers of young Phi Beta Capa members who had since found themselves in need of it. A sink, in moments like these, was a priceless commodity when one’s image was on the line. Those who had done without in the past, knew all too well just how priceless it was, and had contributed readily to give their younger brothers the luxury of which they themselves had been deprived.

Of all those who had benefited, though, from the generosity of the previous classes, no one had yet been more grateful for this particular item than Matt was now as he deposited his little brother carefully on the sofa. He looked at the bloody welts that crisscrossed Ryan’s backside and turned quickly for the bathroom as Steve who had recovered somewhat by now dropped to his knees by Ryan’s head, stroking his hair and talking softly to him.

Matt shut the door behind him and pressed his hands to his face as feelings of guilt overcame him. What had he done? He filled the sink with cold water and splashed it against his warm cheeks, fighting down a wave of nausea as he bent over it. What would Jason say if he was here? Matt looked up, contemplated his pallid image in the mirror, and bit his lip as he turned the water off. Well, he had done nothing wrong. He knew that. A serious infraction such as the one Ryan had committed demanded a serious punishment to go with it. Jason would never argue with that. And, under the circumstances, a strong impression had to be made. ‘But he is our little brother!’ Matt could just hear the indignant lecture now. ‘How could you, Matt? How could you stomach this?’ ‘It was the decision of the counsel!’ Matt’s inner voice argued. ‘Someone had to carry it out, and Steve certainly wasn’t going to be up to it. Would you have preferred Ryan to be summoned before the counsel for punishment? Or perhaps you would have been with those hounding us to call another Meeting. Maybe, after all the time we’ve spent with him, you would have liked to see him relinquish the presidency? Is that what you want, Jay? Because that’s the position we were in!’

Another wave of emotion rolled over Matt as he realized he was having a full blown argument in his head, and tears stung his eyes. The truth was he wanted his older brother. For nearly a month now, he had been the rock solid one, the one all his brothers had leant on. He knew Jason wouldn’t be happy with the situation, but he could take some of the pressure off at any rate. Jay had been out of the house for over a year now. His college life was behind him. He would therefore be able to maintain some emotional distance, more even than Matt who was technically removed by no more than a semester. Matt knew Jason would be just as fond as ever of their little brothers, as he himself was, but reality had a funny way of lending some objectivity and rationality to the illusions created in college. The propensity towards drama quickly lessened and Matt was so in need of another cool collected head at the moment. He sighed. There was no sense playing the ‘what if game.’ The fact was he was the only one here. His brothers needed him, and he would see them through this.

He opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out the shallow white basin he had placed there weeks ago. He had never had any doubts as to the condition his little brother would be in after enduring such a punishment. He had been the president for a year, after all, and though he had never used a cane, he had used the strap a few times and had seen what that could do.

He and Steve had fought hard for their little brother when the counsel was convened, harder than they had even let on. To say that the cane was not their first choice was a complete understatement of the matter. They had, in fact, been vehemently opposed. The first meeting had nearly come to blows, and Steve had been on the point of relinquishing his own position more than once. When Matt and Steve had both flatly refused the Mandatory Meeting, the cane had been raised as a possibility, but the counsel had originally proposed that the sentence be carried out in their presence. All hell had broken loose then. He and Steve had once again refused to consider such an idea and accusations of favoritism had been quick to fly. A few had stood with them (enough to keep the motion from passing), but any close friends Ryan and Danny had on the counsel had been excluded from these proceedings.

Things had gotten extremely ugly and Steve himself had at one point been threatened with eviction. This was as close to a “compromise” as they had gotten and Matt, after hours of debate, had finally caved in. The only way he would allow it to occur he had insisted was if he and Steve were allowed to carry it out in private. His had been the swing vote that allowed the motion to pass and Steve had been furious with him. Matt had known in his heart, however, that no good would come of further argument, and weeks of exhausting, emotionally intense conversation had finally brought Steve round to the same point of view. They had done the best for their little brother that they could, the best that any big brother could do.

Matt sighed as he took a fresh wash cloth from the basket sitting on the back of the toilet. He filled the basin with cool water, and then, opening the door he made his way carefully back to his little brothers. Steve, now collected for the most part, was still kneeling on the floor next to Ryan, his hand rubbing gentle circles on his little brother’s back. Ryan had his face in the pillows. He was still crying, but he too had calmed considerably. “How we feelin’, Bro?” Matt inquired gently as he set the basin on the nightstand.

“Like shit!” Ryan sobbed into the cushions.

Matt bit his lip, blanching again at the sight of the well blistered bottom. ‘What a stupid question!’ he berated himself as he pulled up a chair and sat down. He turned on the small lamp so he could see better, and then looked at Steve as he took the wash cloth in his hand, dipped it in the water, and rung it out. “You might want to sit up there with him,” he suggested softly, indicating the couch. Steve nodded and without hesitation moved up to sit by his little brother. Placing a pillow against his chest, he gathered Ryan in his arms and Ryan clung to him.

“I’m sorry!” he choked. “I’m so sorry for everything!”

“I know, Bro,” Steve reassured, softly. “I know. It’s over now. You’re ok.” Steve hugged his little brother close and Ryan let go, unleashing now weeks’ worth of pent up emotion. “Shhhh . . . . It’s ok. You’re ok . . .,” Steve crooned. Ryan was unable to hear any of the words his big brother was saying, but he found comfort, all the same, in his gentle tone.

Without a word, Matt placed the wet cloth back in the basin. The physical wound cleaning could wait; the cleansing that was taking place now was of a much more important kind. For the better part of an hour, Ryan cried, and Steve held him, rocking him softly and whispering in tones not even Matt could hear. Matt waited through that entire time, watching his two younger brothers with quiet affection from the side, and giving them the time to themselves that they so sorely needed.

Finally, Ryan began to calm again under the soothing attention from his older brother. It was only when the emotional storm had passed completely, however, that Matt finally picked up the wash cloth once more and began the slow, painstaking process of cleaning the welts. He took great care to be as gentle as possible, dabbing the blood away with the cloth and trying his best not to aggravate the open wounds, but at times it was unavoidable.

“Sorry, Bro, sorry,” he soothed each time Ryan winced.

Steve was still holding his younger brother close and he tightened his arm each time Ryan gritted his teeth. “It’s ok, Bud, it’s ok. It’s almost over.”

Ryan himself was overcome by a mixture of emotions he could not even understand at the moment. He was exhausted more than anything, sad, embarrassed, angry, hurt, relieved, comforted, and in some odd way, content. Strangely in fact, weary contentment was the dominant emotion of the moment. His brothers were being exceptionally attentive, and despite the great physical pain he was feeling, their soothing words and thoughtful gestures brought him great peace of mind. It was over. He had been forgiven and things would be ok, now. In fact, Ryan couldn’t help the weary little smile that played at the corners of his lips as drowsiness began to overtake him, things would be more than ok. For the next couple of days, anyway, Steve would spoil him.

The throbbing pain was beginning to subside some now. The cool cloth was feeling good to his battered skin. He yawned and nestled closer to Steve as he felt his brother’s fingers brushing lightly once more through his hair. His eyes began to droop and as he was drifting off, he thought for the first time of his little brothers. ‘I hope they’re ok,’ he worried. ‘I hope Danny is ok . . . .’ The thought had barely crossed his mind before sleep overtook him. Lulled by his brother’s soft voice and gentle touch, he could keep his eyes open no longer and before he had a chance to wonder anymore about his younger brothers he was asleep.

Steve met Matt’s eyes as Matt quietly turned off the bedside lamp. “It’s the best thing for him,” Matt whispered and Steve nodded. Matt pulled down the light cotton blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and loosely covered his sleeping younger brother, tucking the end of the blanket between the wall and the couch and creating a makeshift tent, being careful all the time not to let the blanket touch the tender area.

When he was finally satisfied that his little brother was as comfortable as he could make him, he turned again to face Steve. “I’m going to go check on the other two miscreants,” he said softly, “and make sure they’re ok. I’m sure Danny’s getting ready to break the door in.” Steve swallowed and nodded. He also was worried about his two youngest brothers. “When I come back, we are going to clean and bandage those hands of yours, ok?” Steve nodded again and tears slipped slowly down his cheeks as he looked at the nasty purple and red marks left by Ryan’s nails. He hadn’t really considered them before. The little pain they caused him was nothing to what his heart had been through today. And anyways, he felt like he deserved it . . . .

“Hey,” Matt’s voice derailed the train of self-deprecating thought that was just beginning to form, and Steve looked up at him, tears glistening in his eyes. “You did great,” Matt whispered, planting a full, firm kiss on his partner’s lips. “I’m proud of you.” Steve nodded and wiped at his tears, and Matt kissed him again. “I’ll be back soon,” he assured softly, “and we’ll talk more then, ok?” Steve nodded again, afraid to test his voice. Matt planted a soft kiss on his forehead and as Steve snuggled down closer to Ryan, he turned to the door. He hated to leave, but his two youngest brothers needed somebody and the quicker he got Danny and Kevin settled, the quicker he could return to his partner and some much needed quality time.

He turned one more time to look at his partner as he stepped through the door. Steve was no longer looking his way, and tears were streaming down his cheeks now as he cuddled Ryan close. Matt bit his lip, and paused, his hand on the curtain. He knew how much self-blame was in those tears, but that discussion would have to wait. It would do no good to try and get into it now. Decidedly, he drew the curtain closed and headed for the door leading to the bedroom. He paused once more as he reached it, and pressed his ear to the wood. Everything seemed quiet, too quiet. He sighed. What would he find on the other side of the door? He knew better than to equate the silence with any kind of encouraging or positive sign. ‘With those two, it’s more likely to be the calm before the storm,’ he thought drolly, and the next moment he opened the door.