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[ t r a n s f e r e n c e ] by kHo I can't be myself and i don't wanna talk. I'm taking the cure so I can be quiet wherever I want. So leave me alone... -Elliot Smith “Ari, Uzi,’ Chas said, looking at his sons with upraised eyebrows. “Why don't you go over by your Grandmother.’ Ari looked between his father and the uncle lying in the hospital bed and nodded, taking Uzi's hand in his and leading him away. Chas pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “Fuck you.’ Richie looked at him for a moment, the words rolling around in his mind as he tried to make sense of them. “What,’ he asked after a moment. Chas nodded, lacing his fingers together between his knees and bouncing his legs agitatedly. “Fuck… you.’ Richie rolled his eyes and let out a slight laugh, looking away. “You know what, Chas, this is just about the last thing I need --’ “I don't give a shit, Richie,’ Chas said, his voice just slightly lower than a growl. “How could you do that?’ “How could I try to *kill* myself,’ Richie asked, raising an eyebrow at him. At Chas' nod he shrugged, shuddering at the dull ache accompanying the gesture as the sheets rubbed over his bandages. “Well, I used a razor blade if that's what your --’ Chas' eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he shook his head. “You're an idiot, Richie.’ “Unless you meant why,’ Richie said, frowning at him. “Were you asking why? Cause I told you before, I don't feel like -- ’ “So things didn't go your way for once,’ Chas questioned mockingly. “Things didn't go so great today, Richie?’ Richie looked at him, his eyes widening slightly. “Chas, I can't believe… I didn't know you *hated* me that much.’ Chas rolled his eyes. “Life can be shitty sometimes, Richie. That doesn't give you permission to take yourself out of it.’ Richie nodded, figuring if he agreed maybe Chas would get off of this particular diatribe and leave him alone. “I know.’ “Just cause things don't happen the way they should or… don't go the way you thought. Just because things go to shit and there's nothing you can do about it… it doesn't give you permission to fucking leave!’ Richie might have rolled his eyes if Chas' voice hadn't cracked at the end there. He might have even snapped back at him. Might have called him a pompous, uncaring, insensitive asshole. That crack though, the barely there warble to his normally stone-faced brother's voice, made him rethink Chas' words. “Life doesn't work that way. Sometimes it sucks. But you don't get to just abandon your responsibilities and -- ’ “We're not talking about me anymore, are we, Chas,’ Richie said softly, shifting his hand from under the blanket to rest lightly on Chas' balled together fists. “I'm not even sure we ever were.’ Chas jerked his hands back, glaring at him. “What the fuck are you --’ “We're talking about you,’ he said even softer. Chas shook his head, but he couldn't meet Richie's eyes anymore. “I'm talking about you, trying to --’ “I didn't know it was that bad for you, Chas,’ Richie said, trying once again and putting his hand on Chas' knee. This time Chas let him. “It was that bad for you?’ “I don't know what you're talking about…’ “I'm an asshole,’ Richie said, realizing it for the first time. “After the funeral, I went back on the road, and I should have stayed here. I should have helped you.’ Chas snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I was fine… I'm fine.’ “I can't believe I didn't know it was that bad for you,’ he said, squeezing Chas' knee. Chas let out a shuddering breath, nodding. “If it weren't for Uzi and Ari…’ “I know,’ Richie said, lifting his hand and grabbing at Chas' hand, squeezing it when he had a hold of it. “I'm sorry.’ “You go from a nice job, and a nice house, with a wife and two kids, and you think…’ He paused, smiling softly. “You think, finally… I'm out of the pattern. I'll never be Dad; she'll never be Mom. They'll never be us…’ “They won't be,’ Richie said, smiling at him. “And then…’ “Yeah.’ “And it's all I can do to get out of fucking bed,’ he said, finishing in a whisper that would have been hard to hear if Richie hadn't already known what he was saying. “I'm sorry, Chas,’ Richie said, trying to sit up straighter in the bed. Chas looked up at him, his facial muscles working to control his emotions. “You can't leave too, Richie. I don't know what made you… why you… but you can't leave too.’ “Come here,’ Richie said, spreading his arms out slightly. Chas stared at him for a moment, letting out a burst of a laugh. “No, I'm good…’ “Come… here,’ Richie said, smiling at him and raising an eyebrow. A few moments of awkward silence passes and Richie thinks his arms will fall from sheer exhaustion. Just as he's about to let them, Chas leans forward and hugs him to him, resting his head in the crook of his neck. “You can't just leave,’ he whispers in his ear. “I love you, Chas,’ Richie said, kissing him on the temple and letting go as Chas sat back up, wiping awkwardly at his eyes. “I want you to know that.’ Chas smiled down at him as he stood, reaching down and patting his shoulder. He turned to go sit with the rest of the family but paused at the edge of Richie's bed. “Just for the record, Richie?’ “Yeah,’ Richie asked, covering himself with the sheets a little more fully. Chas turned to look at him, smiling. “I love you too.’ [ previous page ]