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Theory of Sound—Fall VI part 2

Chapter 9—Fall VI Part 2 (AO3 mirror)

Previous chapters: Summer, Fall I, Fall II, Fall III, Fall IV, Fall V Part 1, Fall V Part 2, Fall VI part 1

Summary: While Gavin lives in a world of silence, Dan and Michael both live in a world of sound and lack thereof. The Ramsey family and accompanied teenage sign-language translator move to a close-minded neighborhood in Texas, where Gavin and Dan meet a certain Michael Jones. When Michael assumes that Gavin’s deafness is the only thing that defines him, Gavin does what he does best and decides to make his school and home life a living hell, all while stumbling through the normal problems that normal teenagers have dealing with their not-so-normal relationship with their translator.

Chapter summary: It was fall when everything changed, and winter where things started to mend.

Notes: Eventual Gavin/Dan/Michael. This is the end of fall! The next chapter will start winter. Apologies for the long chapter, and also for not updating in a while--I took a small break during my school break and then this chapter required a ton of editing. If you guys weren't aware, Theory of Sound now has a page on my blog, and a wonderful fanmix! Thank you to MC for betaing this chapter. Content warning for discussions of child abuse. Feel free to leave feedback!

He couldn't go home.

Not now and not for a while at the very least. He couldn't go home. It wasn't that he didn't want to go home; it was that he couldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't go home, not today, not tomorrow, not in the near future. He couldn't go home, so here he was, having climbed the tree outside Michael's room again, dropping in through his window. He didn't speak about it and didn't give any sort of explanation—Michael hadn't asked for one. Somehow, someway, Michael just knew, and Gavin was just too tired of being angry and hurt that he didn't ask how or why because Michael was the one person he had left to run to.

I love him.

I hate him.

I can't believe he fucking lied to me.

He couldn't go home.

Not now and not for a while at the very least. He couldn't go home. It wasn't that he didn't want to go home; it was that he couldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't go home, not today, not tomorrow, not in the near future. He couldn't go home, so here he was, having climbed the tree outside Michael's room again, dropping in through his window. He didn't speak about it and didn't give any sort of explanation—Michael hadn't asked for one. Somehow, someway, Michael just knew, and Gavin was just too tired of being angry and hurt that he didn't ask how or why because Michael was the one person he had left to run to.

Geoff? Bloody hell no. Geoff had lied. Griffon had lied, too. They'd all lied. Dan, Geoff, and Griffon. He'd put all his trust into them, into his family, and they'd all lied to him. Every one of them had known for months, probably since it'd happened, and not one of them had said a single passing word to him. They were his family, and they'd all lied to him. He didn't care about the reason or excuses. That didn't matter. What did matter, though, was that they'd lied, that they'd been able to face him every day for months and act like everything was bloody fine, creating a web of lies around him that he'd been stupid and naïve enough to actually believe. Geoff, Griffon, and Dan were the reasons he couldn't go home, the reasons he didn't even want to step foot on the property.

Burnie? Also a no. Burnie was like an uncle to him, but that made him a brother to Geoff. There was no doubt about it—Burnie would call Geoff straight away and he'd be taken back home and have to face them. The same went for the rest of the people at the company. They were like family to him, but they'd return him to his actual family in a heartbeat.

That left him with one person to turn to. Michael. Michael was the only person who wouldn't force him to go back home and the only person who even had a chance of allowing him to stay with him, at least for a short while. He also wouldn't try to get him to talk about it or whatever, so that was an added bonus and the factor that had Gavin climbing over the fence in Michael's backyard, circling around to the front, and pulling himself up through the branches of the tree and into Michael's room.

-

When he woke up, everything was almost fine.

For a moment, he thought he was back at home, back in the room he shared with Dan, back just waking up suddenly in early morning to the biting air of the always-open window, back with Dan's warmth against him and pressed under his fingertips, and for that moment, he almost believed it. It was all wrong, though. Dawn's just-risen light streamed through the open window across from the bed, rather than from beside it, as it was at home. The bed felt smaller, with Gavin's back pressed up against the wall. And he knew immediately it wasn't Dan he was sleeping up against. It was Michael.

Then nothing was fine. Everything was wrong and he wasn't at home and there was no way he could go home. He closed his eyes again, for the first time in his life grateful of the closed-off world it provided, accompanied by the silence he heard every day. His world ended at his fingertips, curled against Michael's shoulders, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against his back, taking a shuddering breath through his mouth. Nothing was fine. Everything was wrong and wanted to be back at home, back when everything had been fine, back when nothing was confusing and everything was the same as it had been right after moving in. He didn't want to remember that everyone had lied to him and he didn't want to feel anything like this for Dan and he didn't want to know what he'd found.

Ignorance was bliss.

Gavin had said that a lot to Dan back in the rehabilitation center in a shoddy attempt to ease his guilt. He'd also said it a lot sarcastically whenever he talked about school systems in relation to abused kids. He'd never really believed the saying himself. He'd tried to comfort Dan with it (needless to say, comforting people was not Gavin's strong suit) and sarcastically used it as an excuse for school systems doing nothing about kids who were obviously abused, but he was someone who'd always needed to know everything. Gavin needed constant visual and mental stimulation or else he'd get tired of everything quickly. Reasons, explanations, details—it was all important to him. He'd always viewed ignorance as boring and lacking in what he needed to stay interested. But now things were different.

Now he didn't want to know. He wanted to be able to go home. He wanted to have never found out about what was happening back in Oxford. He wanted to have never realized the feelings for Dan that had been developing over years. He wanted the control of his life back. He wanted to go back to when things were fine and he was in control and able to go any way he wanted. He hated this—this constant confusion, this inability to return home, this feeling of absolute wrongness that just hung over him. All he wanted was his life and his family back.

He'd be fine not knowing what was going on. If Dan hadn't been so obvious about taking weirdly timed calls and hadn't let Michael eavesdrop in them, he would've never known. He would've believed Dan's lie about a family member dying and that would've been that. But now he knew. And now he had to find out everything. He couldn't live half in ignorance and half in the truth. He needed the truth about this, about everything, and he needed to know how far the lies had reached.

Pretty far, he could only assume. Far enough that it'd wrapped up everyone and had extended all the way back to Gavin and Dan's hometown. It was big enough to make him not be able to go home, large enough to involve everyone around him. He didn't want the truth. He didn't want to know how much everyone had lied to him and he didn't want to know how what had happened correlated with Dan going back to England. He didn't want to know any of it, because he knew he wouldn't like what he'd hear and he knew it'd just hurt him more, but he needed to know.

He didn't even want to think about it anymore. Maybe Dan didn't want to be here anymore. He'd assumed that was the problem once Dan had told him the lie about a family member dying. He'd assumed he was homesick and tired of being loped with Gavin and wanted his own future, but once he'd looked further and had gone through Dan's internet history he'd realized that wasn't the whole truth. It was still part of it, definitely—why would he want to stick with Gavin his whole life, anyways? He had his own potential, his own future, but he was stuck with Gavin. This was inevitable, but that didn't mean that Gavin wanted it to happen. It just meant he knew it would, and he'd taken all his time with him for granted since he'd been stupid enough to not realize it.

He could feel Michael's heartbeat under his fingertips, the rhythmic beating just gently pulsing under his heated skin. He counted each beat, focusing wholly on that, on the skin beneath his hands. Slowly, he let it lull him back to sleep, desperate for an escape from his thoughts and the way his mind continued to whirl around Geoff and Griffon and the lies and then Dan, Dan, Dan.

-

The next thing he knew, he was being violently shaken awake.

There was no moment of bliss, no moment of ignorance. All at once, the world came falling down around him as Michael shook him awake. He didn't try to fight, not trying to push Michael off of him or ask what was going on. Instead, he just let it happen, looking up at Michael with bleary eyes as he clutched Gavin's shoulders and told him what was going on, Gavin just awake enough to lipread what he was saying.

"You have to get out or hide or… something.. My mother's home. I'm sorry, I'll talk to you later."

He was frantic, his lips moving almost too fast for Gavin, his grip on his shoulders beginning to hurt as Michael dug his fingernails in, presumably unintentionally and just out of his sheer panic. His brown eyes were huge and again, Gavin suddenly noticed the hundreds of freckles spotting his cheeks and forehead. He watched for a moment as Michael hovered over him, desperate and panicking, watching as Michael's huge brown eyes flickered every few seconds towards the door, laying still beneath him as he stopped talking and just looked from Gavin to the door and back.

And then, without meaning to, he laughed.

He didn't know why. Nothing was funny—that much was obvious. But nevertheless, he just started laughing, immediately feeling close to crying with laughter. It was too much too fast and it wasn't funny—quite the opposite, actually—but he was still here, in someone else's bed with Michael hovering over him in danger of getting discovered by Michael's mother, and he was laughing like someone had just told him the funniest goddamn joke ever.

He laughed and laughed, and the expression on Michael's face slowly went from panic to confusion to anger, and then, surprisingly, to understanding. For one reason or another, he seemed to understand why Gavin had suddenly gone hysterical, which reinforced the idea that Michael probably knew something that Dan had probably told him, but honestly, Gavin still didn't care. His eyes were watering from laughing so hard and it was all he could do but reach up and wipe the tears from his eyes as he finally started to calm down.

He had to leave. Michael had said it himself.

"I'll talk to you later. I promise," Michael was saying. Gavin just nodded.

He was quick about it, quick to get out from underneath Michael, quick to open the window and climb out, quick enough that he'd just found his usual purchase in the tree outside when he saw a flash of the door being thrown open and a rattle that vibrated beneath his lingering fingers on the house. His quickness stopped about there and he clambered down slowly, only stopping and forcing himself to realize where he had to go now once he was standing on Michael's front lawn, feet wet from the dew on the grass.

He had to go home.

There was nowhere else he could go. Home was the only thing he had. Home was where Dan was. Home was where his parents were. Home was where everything important to him was. His only other viable option was Michael, and that option had just been exhausted with the arrival of his mother. He had nothing else. It was either go home or walk around the neighborhood and probably end up getting himself completely and utterly lost. Which really, he easily could do. But the issue with that was that he was tired. He didn't want to run anymore. He wanted to sleep uninterrupted. He wanted to not worry. And above all, he just wanted control of his life back.

That was the one thing he didn't want, though, was to go back home. He'd felt this way before, but not in years and years, and even now it wasn't the same. He could at least still call it home. He had one to begin with and no matter how shitty things were right now, he still had one to return to. He stood on Michael's wet lawn, looking across the street, the sun just barely risen above the roof of the house opposite, and that house was still called home. He just didn't want to go back.

So he stood there, looking at his house, the place he could call home, and for the first time in a long time, he thought about five years ago.

That place hadn't been home. It never had been, even when he'd been too small to understand anything. It'd just been a cold house he lived in filled with bad memories and an even worse future. Not home. And those people weren't his parents. He didn't care what his birth certificate said; those people weren't his parents. They'd conceived and given birth to him, but a one night mistake didn't automatically make someone a parent. His parents were Geoff and Griffon and though he was furious with them, they were still his father and mother no matter what and—the fact of the matter was that even though he didn't really want to realize it, he knew and recognized right now that Geoff and Griffon wouldn't have lied to him if they didn't think it was in his best interest. The point was that they'd still lied to him, and even though he knew forgiveness was inevitable, he was angry now about it.

Geoff and Griffon were—weird parents, to say the least. And not just by Gavin's standards, either, which he knew weren't the right kind of standards he should've had for parents. They were weird, even Dan had said so. Weird, but in a good way. Gavin couldn't even begin to imagine where he'd be if they hadn't come along. The thing with Geoff and Griffon was that they treated Gavin like a person. Not like a fragile thing. Not like a helpless animal. Not like something they weren't even going to try to understand. They treated him like exactly what he was—an independent person who had apparently strange emotional responses, and who just happened to be deaf. They didn't cut him any slack, and they didn't give him any crap. And it was that that had made Gavin take to them immediately all those years ago.

If he could make a list of all the things he knew for certain, the fact that Geoff and Griffon loved him more than anything would be at the very top of that list. They loved him and that was why he knew for certain that they wouldn't have done this if they hadn't had their reasons. That was why that house across the street was still home and why he knew he'd have to go back eventually and more than anything else, why he knew he'd eventually understand.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for Dan.

Up until now, he thought he'd understood Dan. More than ten years of friendship had them so close that even Gavin could see that Dan was his compliment, the person he needed to balance himself out. Now, he was just an unreachable enigma. He felt like he understood nothing about him and he was finally, finally starting to see that things hadn't been completely platonic between them for a long time. He loved Dan and he loved him a lot, and it was so much more than thinking of him as part of the family. It'd been brewing for a long time and he'd just gone along with it, not really thinking about what it was or why it was happening. It was just a thing and it was there, but now he'd realized what it was and it made him so terrified of fucking up what they already had that Gavin was left without the slightest idea of what to do about it.

That was considering they still had some sort of friendship. Dan had lied to him. Dan was different from Geoff and Griffon. Geoff and Griffon were his parents and would've only done this for a good reason. He was still furious at them, but that was nothing compared with Dan. Dan had earned all of Gavin's trust and was the one person Gavin trusted with everything. He could tell anything to Dan because Dan was his best friend, the person Gavin couldn't imagine a future without, and the person who'd gone to hell with Gavin and back. And he'd lied to him. It didn't even matter the lie right now—just the simple fact that he'd taken his trust and betrayed it was enough for Gavin to want desperately to hate him.

He couldn't, though. He couldn't hate Dan. And that was what kept him here, standing on Michael's lawn, looking across the street at the house he could associate home with, wishing everything was easier and that feelings weren't this complex. He hated ignorance, but he wanted to go back to it, back to an easier time. Everything had spiraled out of his control, and control was something Gavin absolutely needed.

The thought of control brought five years ago back again and this time, Gavin could do nothing from keeping it from his mind. Five years ago wasn't something he could dwell on. He could divide his life into three parts—before, during, and after. Before was all the time up until everything had happened. During was the incident and the following six months of hell he'd spent going from hospital to hospital to rehabilitation center. After was now, the following years, and everything else was the past. The past was the past. There was no use dwelling on it or trying to change it. It was set in stone and what was done was done.

That was something he'd never understood about Dan. No matter how much he tried to mask it, Gavin knew that Dan's feelings of guilt remained to this day. He no longer pitied Gavin or anything of the sort—he always treated him just as he'd treat anyone else, never calling attention to his lack of the ability to hear—but sometimes, it was clear that he still felt responsible for something that had been far out of his control. Dan just couldn't seem to understand it. What was done was done. No amount of guilt or regret would change that, so why even think about it? He supposed that also probably had some part in this. Dan was determined to do something to ease his guilt before he left, so he wouldn't feel guilty about not sticking around Gavin for the rest of his life. It made sense. A lot of sense, actually.

He couldn't just stay in Michael's yard all day. Someone would see him, someone would get angry, and that someone would probably either call his parents or call the cops, and he couldn't decide which was worse. He had to go back now.

It felt like he was forcing himself to walk, like his bare feet were dragging across Michael's wet lawn and then padding on the hard asphalt. The walk seemed to take forever, the journey up to his front door feeling even worse. He wondered if he could actually get in without anyone noticing him, and then decided no, he couldn't. Geoff and Griffon were probably looking everywhere for him, calling the police and anyone who would have any information on him. Dan was… Gavin wasn't actually sure. A lot had changed about him lately, leaving Gavin unsure of whether Dan hated him or felt the same way Gavin did, which were two extremes on the same scale. Either Dan was going out of his mind with worry or he didn't care.

He had his hand on the cold handle of the door, fully prepared to walk in and just not say anything when—

…Speak of the devil himself.

He spun on his feet, whipping around as fingers wrapped around his wrist,tearing his hand away from the door and leaving him staring up at the same person who'd refused to leave his thoughts. Instinctively, he pulled back, trying to rip his hand from Dan's hold. His attempts proved to do absolutely nothing, his wrist staying in the tight hold no matter how hard he yanked. Dan's hand wouldn't budge, reminding Gavin again that Dan was a lot stronger than him, which gave him only one choice-the option to stop trying altogether and face this now-inevitable conversation with Dan.

He hadn't been planning to say anything, and his lack of forethought meant he had nothing planned. He had nothing prepared to tell Dan, no harsh words or arguments. He had nothing, and now that Dan had caught him out here, his mind was devoid of the right words to say to him. His thoughts were a jumble, his emotions an unbearable melting pot of anger, frustration, disbelief, and confusion, and anything he tried to formulate to say felt like it just wasn't enough. So he said nothing, waiting for Dan to do something first.

To his surprise, there was no anger in his face. Gavin glared at him, his lips forming in a scowl, but Dan just looked down blankly at him, as if he was in the same place as Gavin, neither of them speaking or moving or offering any sort of explanation for either of their actions. His brown eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape like even he was surprised by his own actions.

They were stuck in that moment. Neither of them said anything, neither making any move to do so, and each moment of wordlessness between them just made Gavin even more frustrated. He waited for Dan to say anything, and finally his annoyance came to a breaking point, quickly getting the best of him and making him impatient.

"Well?" He signed it with his freehand, the sign fast with the amount of annoyance he'd put into it. It was a challenge/ He was challenging him to say something to him and putting him into a position where Dan would be forced to talk to him. He didn't want apologies, and he could really only honestly hope that Dan would know better than to give him any. Apologies were useless and didn't solve a goddamn thing. What he wanted was an explanation, for Dan to just come clean about everything right here and now.

He watched his face closely as he waited. Dan wouldn't even look him in the eyes, averting his gaze from Gavin's in what he could only assume was shame. For a long time, what felt like hours, there was nothing. Gavin was ready to give up and go back inside, knowing that Dan wasn't going to tell him anything uselful or any of the things he'd wanted to hear and Gavin had better things to do than stand around waiting for him to say something.

"I waited for you!" He'd just been ready to pull out of Dan's relaxed grip when he barely caught Dan's words. He hadn't expected him to speak, not when it was so unnecessary at this point. The expression on his face could only be described as distraught and upset, his emotions on-surface for once and not hidden deep down where Gavin would have to dig for them. It made him stop, making him stay grounded in place, looking up at Dan and taking in how absolutely upset he looked. "I waited for you! All night, Gav. I waited. Out here. Please. Just-stay."

The porch was cold beneath his feet, the winter's wind blowing hard at him and making him shiver. He wanted out of here; this confrontation had never been a good idea. Yet, he stayed. By now, Dan's grip on him had relaxed to the point that he could easily pull from him, but Dan was begging him to stay for whatever reason. He was frozen, unable to move or even close the few steps to the door and run inside. Everything was urging him to just walk away from this and not let it escalate further, since it was already just frustrating him more, but he didn't move.

He forced himself to pull his arm back, Dan's grip coming off his wrist, finally freeing him, but he didn't go anywhere from there. Instead, he just signed out what he was thinking, "Tell me, then. Tell me everything. Tell me why you're really going back to Oxford. I'm sick of all the goddamn lies."

He didn't know what he was expecting, but in that moment, Gavin realized that the whole 'expect nothing and you won't be disappointed' crap was a lie, because when Dan just stared at him, his hands dropping to his side, Gavin felt nothing but disappointed. He shook his head, scowling, hating everything that was going on, hating himself and hating Dan .

He was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold, finally finding his voice in the moment, feeling it shake in his throat as he spoke.

"Then get the hell away from me."

His own words hurt him more than anything else he'd discovered this past day. They stung at his throat, burning at his lips. He left, throwing open the front door without a single more glance at Dan. He didn't run, then, not like he'd planned. He couldn't find it in himself. Instead, he felt as if he were forcing himself to take each step, his walk slow and unsteady. He stared at the floor the entire shameful walk upstairs; no one could talk to him if he weren't looking. It took forever, but at last, he was finally in the safety of his own room with the door shut, alone and with nothing to bother him.

Only then, away from the eyes of everyone else, did he allow himself to curl up into a small ball on the bed he shared with Dan, feeling like he was trying to curl into himself.

-

Michael kept his promise. That was a much needed relief for him. Gavin hadn't come out of his room since running to it, ignoring the blinking of the call button next to the door,the equivalent of someone knocking at his door.

Michael 8:46 PM: Hey. Sorry about kicking you out so suddenly earlier.

Gavin 8:46 PM: no problem

Michael 8:47 PM: You alright?

Gavin 8:49 PM: i dont know.

Gavin 8:49 PM: how much do you know

It took a while for Michael to reply.

Michael 8:54 PM: A lot. Everything. Sorry. I was trying to help Dan last night.

Gavin 8:54 PM: i dont care.

Michael 8:54 PM: Hey, don't get angry at me. I said I was sorry. I was just trying to help.

Gavin 8:56 PM: no im not mad. i meant i dont care that you know

A month ago, Dan telling Michael anything had seemed like the end of the world. Gavin had gotten angry at him over it, furious and locking himself in his room just like he was now. But now it just seemed trivial compared with everyone keeping secrets from him and Dan leaving.

Gavin 8:56 PM: is your gamertag mlpmichael

Michael 8:57 PM: Yeah. What's up?

Not a minute after it sent, Michael accepted the friend request. Gavin immediately sent him a message.

GavinoFree: Friend me on Skype. I'm GavinoFree on there, too. Set up your webcam and we can play Halo or something.

Gavin hooked Skype up to the television so he could see Michael and be able to communicate with him in game. It worked fairly well and, just as he'd expected, it'd helped take the edge off of Gavin's anxieties and loneliness. If no one else, he could talk to Michael. That was something. So they did just that, Michael playing Halo with him until he had to go to bed, reminding Gavin that there was school in the morning.

Michael 12:11 AM: You coming to school tomorrow?

He got the text message about half an hour after Michael signed off, right when Gavin was going to try to sleep himself. He thought about not replying, not wanting to think about tomorrow at all. Tomorrow was Monday. Tomorrow he had to come out of his room and tomorrow, he'd have to talk to Dan and Geoff and Griffon. Tomorrow he wouldn't be able to avoid them. He didn't want tomorrow to come. He hadn't even been out of his room since arriving back home, constantly ignoring the red flashing call button and instantly deleting any text messages from his parents and Dan.

He did reply, though. He didn't want to just leave Michael hanging, especially when his presence had kept Gavin from driving himself mad by cooping himself up alone.

Gavin 12:13 AM: yeah. see you then

He felt better, to an extent, after being able to talk to someone for a while and not have to think about everything else. That, however, didn't make things better once he tried to sleep, though. He tried sleeping in his own bed for once ,and felt weird and unfamiliar in the darkness, his body used to having Dan next to him, or even Michael's warmth pressed against him. He was stuck suddenly remembering why he didn't sleep alone, the whole explanation of why his own bed was almost completely unused. He remembered the first few months of being adopted, back when Geoff would drive him around until he fell asleep in the car, back when Gavin refused to even close his eyes for any extended amount of time, and he wondered why he was here, up here alone, without anyone, why he was shutting himself off from everyone else.

He knew why, but in the moments of darkness and silence, the moments where all Gavin had were the sheets beneath his fingertips and his thoughts, the reasoning seemed childish and didn't make sense.

--

The twentieth.

That meant ten days until Dan left.

The bed was cold when he woke up, but at least it wasn't his own bed. At some point, when he couldn't fall asleep, he'd moved over to the bed he shared with Dan and after hours of lying alone, he'd finally drifted into a fitful sleep. The bed and room seemed unbearably cold, now. He had to get up, his body having woke him up at the time he and Dan usually got up for school, and he knew it, but all he wanted to do was lie beneath the cold sheets alone and savor the small amount of time he had left before he had to head to school. That was bound to be an awkward car-ride with Dan and he couldn't even imagine what the school day would be like when he had to spend all of it crowded beside his translator.

He usually liked spending the entire day with Dan. Most of the time, it was fine. They always had something to talk about, some sort of conversation going between them at all times. After all, Dan had been (Had been? Was? Is? Gavin had no idea where they stood.) his best friend . Now, he wasn't sure what he was going to do in class if he couldn't have all those little side-conversations with Dan. He hated this—this being so angry at him, this fury at him, this confusion between hatred and whatever this actual bloody love bullshit was. He wanted to hate him. He'd lied. For three months. And he'd gotten everyone else in on the lie, too. Gavin couldn't forgive him for that. Not yet anyway.

Yet—He wished he didn't know. Lying in bed as he urged himself to get up, he imagined a reality where he would've never let his curiosities get to him, where he'd never asked Michael what was going on with Dan, where he would've believed the lies fed to him. If that was this reality, then everything might've—just might've—been alright.

He had Michael now. That was about it. He'd put all his trust in Dan and Dan had lied to him for three months. Geoff and Griffon, though they were his parents and he would inevitably forgive them, had gone along with it, perpetuating it and all three of them lying to him every day. His own family—it hurt. It hurt a lot, actually. He had Michael. Michael was—his friend. He could say that with some confidence, now. They'd clashed a lot and probably would continue to clash a lot, since they had pretty different personalities, but Michael was still his friend. Michael had tried last night. He'd put effort into helping Gavin feel at least a bit better. That was a big change from the angry kid he'd met at the beginning of fall, the kid who'd nearly punched him in the face for an honest mistake. It was also an obvious improvement from Michael Jones, who thought it was a joke when Gavin had asked him what was wrong a couple weeks previous.

Michael was very different. And Gavin could now honestly say that Michael was his friend. He'd changed a lot, and he'd changed for the better, and now Gavin knew him well, too.

Thinking about it now, Gavin supposed he'd changed, too. Or at least, things had changed. He couldn't exactly place how, but he felt like a different person than he'd been at the start of the semester, back when everything had been alright and his biggest concern had been making Michael Jones's life an absolute hell. Actually—he realized he'd matured there, at least. He no longer immediately despised people who immediately labelled him as his disability and pitied him. After all, Michael had turned out to be alright once he'd figured out that Gavin wasn't just 'that deaf kid'. So there was that.

He had to get up, but he just kept shivering beneath the sheets of the bed for a few more minutes until he finally forced himself to sit up and actually get up. He might as well just get it over with right now, rather than putting it off as much as he could. He did the only thing he could and finally unlocked his door, peeking out before stepping out onto the loft and slowly padding down the steps, glancing around as he did so.

The house seemed strangely empty. There was a light from the kitchen, though, and being greeted by a mostly-empty house and the promise of activity from a single room was almost nerve-wracking and he found himself wishing the house had been buzzing and alive like it usually was. Still, he forced himself to be calm and prepared himself, stepping into the kitchen only to find a tired-eyed Geoff waiting for him.

He stopped, sighing and raising an eyebrow and looking him straight in the sleepy eyes, "Please don't tell me this is going to be one of those father to son meetings that idiots have in the movies."

He could've sworn he almost saw a smile on Geoff's face. Really, he didn't want a confrontation at all. He just wanted to go to school and have it over and done with. He expected Geoff to sign some sort of joke back to him, expecting to unwillingly instantly forgive him, but Gavin never could've expected to see the next words that came from him.

"I'm going with Dan at the end of November."

"What?!" His eyes went wide, the movements of his hands pronounced and exaggerated in his own shock. He—No! He couldn't go with Dan! He couldn't go with Dan and not take Gavin. Why was he going with Dan? Not only… Not only would Dan, his translator, be going, but Geoff, too! Griffon had to be staying home. She had to. They wouldn't leave him here alone. At least he didn't think they would. They knew better, didn't they?

Why—what the hell were they even doing in England that required the both of them to go? It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be and he didn't understand it and he didn't want either of them to go, especially without him, and he just wanted this all to stop and goddamn he hated all this bloody anger and frustration he was feeling and everything that was going on with this situation in first place.

"You can't!" He was at the table Geoff was sitting at now, frantically signing. "You can't go! Not both of you! No—not even one of you! I don't want either of you to go!"

Geoff was just shaking his head, still meeting Gavin's gaze, and that was enough to at least minorly calm him down. Geoff had that effect on him—which was probably part of the reason Griffon always called him Gavin's security blanket. He waited until Gavin had stopped frantically signing, "It's only for a week, Gav. I have to do this. Sit down and I'll tell you what's going on. Everything. I promise."

There it was, the offer to unravel the lies spun around their little family, an open offer and a promise Gavin knew Geoff would keep. Geoff was an honest person—and that had been part of the reason Gavin was so angry he'd lied—and if he promised something, he had every intention to keep that promise. He was offering to tell Gavin everything, to sit there and tell Gavin the absolute truth, the thing he'd been after since everything started coming down around him.

Gavin didn't sit.

There it was, the offer to unravel the lies spun around their little family, an open offer and a promise Gavin knew Geoff would keep. Geoff was an honest person—and that had been part of the reason Gavin was so angry he'd withheld everything from him—and if he promised something, he had every intention to keep that promise. He was offering to tell Gavin everything, to sit there and tell Gavin the absolute truth, the thing he'd been after since everything started coming down around him, and yet, he didn't sit.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Geoff. Geoff had lied as much as Dan had, but he still trusted him. He knew that if he took him up on it, he'd tell Gavin the truth and make sure he was alright with it. That wasn't the issue. The issue didn't lay in Geoff. The issue laid in Dan. The issue laid in the fact that Geoff had offered to tell Gavin immediately, and the issue laid in the fact that Dan had refused him the same truth twice. There was something wrong, something up, and the problem was that Dan wasn't telling him the truth when, if nothing else, he owed that to him. So he didn't sit. He just shook his head, looking for words, searching for something to say before saying exactly what was on his mind.

"Where's Dan?"

Geoff looked surprised at his refusal to tell him the truth, "He already went to school. Sorry, Gav. He knows you're angry. I know you're angry, too."

Gavin frowned, leaning back on the counters, "I have a right to be."

"I know."

"You lied," His motions were filled with the same fury they'd been last night, the same amount of vigor and emotions, the exact same intensity.

The answer he got was the same, but the expression on Geoff's face was different. He wasn't pitying him. He wasn't drowning in his own guilt like Dan had been. Instead, Geoff got up from his chair, faced him, and admitted it, "I lied. And I was wrong in doing so."

It was that little sentence tacked onto it that made it different than Dan's admission of guilt. That little sentence and the offer to tell him everything. It was everything that Dan's apology wasn't, everything Gavin needed to hear from Geoff. There were no excuses, no denials, no beating around the bush. Geoff admitted it and said he'd realized he'd been wrong in lying to him. It was that that made him break, that finally broke off the constant anger and frustration and brought everything that had happened the previous two days back to him.

His hands fell to the sides and he just looked at Geoff, no longer glaring at him, no longer giving him that furious and annoyed look, feeling a lot like he had in the hallway after screaming at Michael—naked, vulnerable, upset because deep down, he knew exactly what was going on and although Dan was a big part of why he was upset—almost all of it, really—there was that small part of him he covered up that was upset about something that had nothing to do with Dan.

It came out in a single word, and he had to double check he was keeping his shaking hands steady , "Why?"

Geoff hesitated, but only for a moment, "We were wrong. We thought it'd be best if you—"

"No," Gavin cut him off immediately, knowing what he was going to say, knowing that Geoff hadn't understood him the first time, knowing he'd have to clarify something even he didn't want to bring to light. "Why only five years?"

The truth was that he hadn't been able to get that headline out of his head.

Geoff didn't say anything, clearly not having expected Gavin to sign that, and it was understood then, between the two of them, through the wordless signals and expressions, that Geoff didn't know. And for once, Gavin was actually alright with that. He wasn't sure he wanted to know in the first place or why he'd brought it up. He just wanted—maybe some closure. Something. Just anything, really. Closure to something that was apparently forcing its way back into his life after lying dormant for five years. That was all. Geoff not knowing was closure. It wasn't the conventional type of closure, but it was still something, and it was perhaps the best case scenario, because Gavin didn't know if he actually wanted to hear the real reason or not.

Geoff shrugged, Gavin watching him sigh heavily, "Sorry, Gav. I don't know. It's bullshit, though, I'll tell you that much. Fucking bullshit. But it's bullshit that we're going to keep from seeing the Land of the Free or whatever we're calling it now."

Gavin nodded. That was enough of an answer for him. He wouldn't press Geoff for any more. Geoff had offered him an explanation, but really, Gavin wanted that explanation from Dan, rather than Geoff. After all, Dan was the one still hiding everything from him, and that mattered. That mattered a lot.

"You want a ride to school?"

"No, I'll…" He really needed a break right now, just to take everything in and recover from his momentary lapse in thinking. He needed some time away from family before he'd see Dan again. "I'll just catch a ride with Michael. See you later."

He texted Michael as soon as he was out of the house, unsure whether or not his mother was home. He didn't want to risk it, not wanting to get Michael into trouble for going over to his house. It was easy to tell that Michael's family, which seemed to consist of just his mother now, didn't like Gavin's family. It could be a number of reasons—the fact that the Ramsey family was probably one of the most liberal families in the neighborhood, the fact that Gavin had punched Michael in the nose, or the simple fact that Gavin and Dan, two boys, hung out with her son. He didn't know which it was or if it was a different reason, but he had the lingering feeling he'd get in trouble if Michael's mother saw him.

Plus, he highly doubted he'd be able to even communicate with her. It was sort of easy to forget that he couldn't really talk to the outside world without Dan at his side.

Gavin 7:04 AM: can i get a ride?

He sat on the porch swing outside where he was almost positive Dan had slept on the night Gavin had run away, judging from the pillow and blankets strewn across the swing, and looked over towards Michael's house. Sure enough, there was a car in his driveway, one that Gavin recognized to be his mother's. Dan's truck was absent from his own driveway, and Gavin still hadn't seen a single word from him and he wondered if Dan would be too distracted to properly translate his signs today. He didn't even seem to want to see Gavin, and Gavin really didn't want to see him, either, to be completely honest.

The problem in that was that Gavin was essentially lost without Dan. He couldn't communicate without him. Talking in school was out of the question. There were too many people around and he just wouldn't be able to handle speaking in a situation like that. Dan was his lifeline, his voice, and the person who opened his closed off reality to the world around him. He had no idea what today would be like, but he could only hope that Dan would still be there to at least interpret for him.

A minute later, his phone vibrated in his hands.

Michael 7:06 AM: Yeah sure. If you don't mind riding with my daredevil buddy Ray.

Michael 7:06 AM: Don't come over to my house, though. Just come when you see Ray's car.

Gavin 7:06 AM: got it

So he waited, checking his phone every few seconds, just in case he missed a message from someone. He'd actually never met that Ray kid or really seen him up close other than in his classes. He was apparently well-liked in the school and a (the only?) close friend of Michael's. From the gossip Dan translated for him and even some of the things he read on others' lips, he was a rambunctious kid with a high gamer score who was friendly with nearly everyone. Gavin had him in first hour and he'd never approached him otherwise. Other than the day he'd set Michael on fire, that was. He'd been there then and had taken Michael to the hospital.

He'd never said a word to the kid, which left him dumbstruck and wordless when a few moments later, a brown beat-up looking car abruptly stopped next to Michael's house. For a moment, he debated just not going over there and staying on the porch swing. He could easily avoid the awkward situation he knew was going to happen, but that would probably result in a silent car ride with Geoff and force him to go into the school completely alone, which wasn't quite something he wanted to do. Instead, he forced himself to get up and go, slowly making his way to the car, Ray waiting for him and Michael already getting in.

Being in a fight with Dan resulted in one huge problem—a language barrier. Gavin had started picking up on lip-reading before he could even correctly sign his first sentence. It wasn't a cure-all, though it was a valuable skill. He could understand the people around him without a translator, the only difficulties being him having to work out similar looking words and syllables or when people spoke too quickly or too slowly. Obviously, sign language was easier for him to understand, but lip-reading eliminated half of the language barrier—his half. The other half was him communicating with other people. There was no way for him to communicate besides sign language, which he knew Ray didn't know, and speaking, which he wouldn't resign to, even though he was slowly getting more comfortable speaking out loud with Michael, and so, he felt the language barrier tenfold as soon as he made himself comfortable in the middle of the backseat.

He didn't even need to feel it. It was made apparent as soon as Ray turned to Michael and asked him, "Should we just… Ignore him?"

Michael glanced back at Gavin, hanging over the back of his seat to look at him, and then back to Ray, shaking his head slightly, "What the hell is wrong with you, Ray?"

That made the situation better at least a little. It made Gavin momentarily forget about everything going on, making him feel just the ghost of a smirk on his face. He could see the look Michael was giving his friend, a glare of incredulousness at what Ray had even suggested, and it reminded Gavin again that things really had changed. This was the same angry kid who'd labelled him as disabled and treated him as just that label, and now he was challenging the only other friend Gavin ever saw him with when he'd tried to do the same. It was an improvement and even though Gavin was fully capable of standing up for himself, it made things a little better.

"What?"

"Ignore him? Jesus fucking Christ, Ray. He's not some sort of animal."

"I'm right here-" They both instantly turned to look at him, Ray with a look of shock and Michael just grinning slightly. Gavin rolled his eyes; it shouldn't have come as a surprise to this kid. He'd been there right after Gavin and Dan had set Michael on fire. He'd heard Gavin speak to Michael. It wasn't really that big of a shocker, though he did have to keep in mind that everyone at school besides Michael and Dan thought he was completely mute, since he didn't talk at all in class, so the fact that he talked when the situation absolutely called for it—which, Gavin decided, it had to avoid awkwardness and just sitting in the backseat like a damn idiot—was pretty easily overshadowed by the whole mute label.

'Mute' was a label he'd never much enjoyed, either. He was mute just like he was deaf—it was a thing he was and he accepted the fact and moved on. He just wasn't completely mute and he had a voice, anyways. Or at least he'd had a voice. The way things were going, Gavin had no idea if he'd even still be able to call Dan his interpreter after this. Things were sort of… really up in the air right now, and Gavin really despised the uncertainty of it all.

They were stuck like that, Ray continuing to stare at Gavin in disbelief until Michael nudged him hard and Gavin watched Ray stammer out, "I—Uh. Sorry about that. No offense. Really. I'm Ray, by the way. Ray Narvaez. Junior."

Gavin rolled his eyes at his attempt to make up for lost ground. It was obvious he was struggling with the fact that Gavin could properly communicate at least to some measly extent and trying to make up for his remarks. Gavin didn't really particularly care; Ray might've been more forward and oblivious about it than other people but really, it was all the same. People treated him differently and were awkward around him until they realized that he could actually understand perfectly, at which point they desperately tried to make themselves look good and were even more awkward than before. Ray was no different, just another person participating in the cycle Gavin was so used to by now. Michael wasn't, though. Michael had stood up for him when Gavin hadn't expected him to.

"Gavin Free. The notorious deaf kid, I guess," It was a crap attempt at a joke, but right now, he'd do pretty much anything to lessen the awkwardness of the car. It worked, at least a little, as Ray grinned an overly bright smile and then pulled the car out of park, the drive to school feeling almost excruciatingly long and silent, leaving Gavin to again wish that none of this had ever happened and that he still had Dan by his side.

-

The school day was much like the ride to school—it drug on and on and there was nothing Gavin wanted more than for it to end. Dan was there, but to Gavin's surprise, he didn't even try to say a word to him. He never signed anything personal to him, seeming distracted and never quite meeting Gavin's eyes as he translated everything into signs for him and relayed what he had to say verbally. He put as much distance between he and Gavin as he possibly could, never moving his desk up against his like he usually did, never walking close to him, creating a huge, empty rift between them that Gavin couldn't close.

He didn't try. Part of him hated it—not liking feeling so alone, so isolated without Dan's presence, constantly wanting to turn to him and actually have a conversation with him—but a bigger part of him was completely fine with it. Dan had lied to him and betrayed his trust and twice when Gavin had confronted him about it, he'd refused to tell him the truth. It wasn't something he could forgive, not when Dan wouldn't just tell him, not when that goddamn guilt was still bloody eating at him, not when he was acting exactly like he had five years ago, back when that very same guilt had nearly torn them apart and would've if Dan hadn't finally realized that Gavin didn't need a load of bullshit pity.

And then there was that other part of him, smaller, but still there, a part that wanted a fight, that wanted Dan to just tell him already that he was going to leave, that he didn't want to be here anymore and he was just going back to Oxford to fix things just so that he wouldn't feel guilty for leaving. It was that part of him that made him want to hit and scream at Dan and force everything to the surface, to abandon all of his practiced reactions and lack thereof and act on pure emotional energy for once. But he wouldn't. He'd told himself before, promised himself that he'd never act on his emotional energy when he was this furious, when he had this much charge, because he knew that it'd turn to violence, and for as long as he could remember, he's always resolved that he'd never be like that no matter how much he wanted to give Dan a black eye for all of this shit he was putting Gavin through.

Punching Michael out had been different. That had been a warranted fight, one that Michael had started and Gavin had finished by teaching him that he wasn't a disabled helpless kid. This was completely different. This was an urge he'd seen before in other people, and he was in a situation wherein violence was unnecessary and would only make the situation worse.

It was that part of him that kept him up at night, forcing him awake and staring up wide-eyed at the ceiling in the silence and the darkness, alone and left to his own thoughts. The worst part wasn't that urge for violence or the absolute red hot fury that coursed through him—it was the fact that he knew Dan wouldn't hit back if Gavin ever did give into his learned behaviors. He would never touch Gavin. Out of guilt, out of resolve, out of something else entirely—he didn't know.

Maybe that'd been part of the reason Gavin had so quickly latched onto Dan once all the pitying had stopped and they were working to rebuild a friendship they'd had before. His personality compared and contrasted so much with Gavin's own—his peace with Gavin's chaos, his compromise with Gavin's perseverance, his public nervousness with Gavin's public confidence, and his private confidence with Gavin's private anxiety—that they just fit together so perfectly. Gavin was someone who disliked all forms of violence, despite his personality, and Dan was someone who stepped up for him in the midst of Gavin's pacifism. In that fight Michael had nearly been in, Gavin was completely sure he would've gotten his ass kicked in if Dan hadn't been there to shove the guy up against a wall and hold him by the collar. He was also completely sure that that would've escalated if someone hadn't run to get a teacher and that same kid would've probably ended up in a bad condition.

Despite that, Dan had never laid a violent hand to him, and that was part of the reason he'd so quickly attached to him. Dan was the first person he'd laid all of his bodily trust in. He'd been the first person he'd even begun to trust after the incident had destroyed all meaning of the word. He'd been there for him and he had always been there for him , all through these past five years, his loyalty never once faltering and never giving Gavin a reason to not trust him. All of that loyalty and trust and for a full week of not even having a single personal conversation with Dan, a week of sleeping alone, a week of feeling almost completely isolated, Gavin was beginning to wonder where in their relationship to draw the line between guilt and sincerity.

He kept on being reminded of these past five years, of how much he'd trusted Dan. He went over things again and again, attributing everything to guilt, guilt, guilt. Dan did this or that because he felt guilty, not because he genuinely wanted to, and he slowly took apart each one of his memories until he wanted to tear his own hair out at how it was keeping him up at night, not letting him sleep and not giving him any alleviation from his constant stream of thoughts. He didn't know where to draw the line or if there even was a line. Maybe the guilt had never stopped. Maybe it'd never been sincere.

--

Monday.

Three days. Finals were Tuesday and Wednesday. The rest of the week was off in order to give students a break from testing before the new semester started. Nor was he really worried about finals, unlike the other students and Dan. Even Michael was staying over later, desperately going over sign language with Dan and even with Gavin at times. Luckily, the two of them stayed completely out of Gavin's way, Dan avoiding him completely, just as he had for the past bloody week.

He presumably slept on the couch, left for school before Gavin even woke up, and stayed late at the school under the thin guise of extracurricular Gavin knew he didn't have and help from teachers Gavin knew he didn't need. The lies just seemed to be piling on more and more, the web expanding, even though Gavin was now completely aware of the fact that he was entangled in it. He just had no idea what, exactly, he was tangled in, and that was the important part. That and the fact that Dan bothered to go completely out of his way just to avoid talking to Gavin just made things worse, stacking frustration upon frustration upon the already huge pile of emotions he had stored up from throughout the week.

Dan didn't talk to him and hadn't for an entire week. He avoided him, refusing even the slightest eye contact, which just made Gavin all the more frustrated.

Michael, on the other hand, was constantly pouring over books. Gavin had been over to his house a couple of times in the past week, and his company was probably the one thing that kept Gavin's head above water. He'd helped Michael a bit with sign language, doing his best to attempt to teach him, though he'd never done so before. He also spent his nights playing games with Michael, and it helped clear his mind so that he could sleep better.

He ended up actually sleeping between Geoff and Griffon a couple times, as he had when they'd first adopted him. Sleeping alone didn't turn out well. His thoughts kept him up late into the night and dreams woke him up in the early hours of the morning. Geoff and Griffon never seemed to mind, always letting him without complaint, but it didn't change the fact that he still felt like a child doing it.

Some nights, he found himself asking why he just didn't make up with Dan. And then he was reminded of what he needed.

The truth. He had no idea if he could begin to forgive him, not when he'd dragged this on for so goddamn long—and for what? Why couldn't he just come out and say it? There was too much to think about. This entire situation wouldn't just go away if Dan told him what was going on. It wouldn't go away at all. He'd thought it'd gone away years ago, but it looked like it would never actually leave completely.

And then there was the matter of whatever the hell he felt for Dan. It obviously wasn't some sort of childish infatuation. Gavin had figured that out the moment he realized that whatever he felt, he still felt it just as much even after catching Dan in his lie. It wasn't an infatuation or a crush or whatever else there was. For some goddamned reason, he felt something stronger for Dan and apparently had for a while and only just realized it. Which, really, just complicated things infinitely even more, adding more factors and variables into an equation he couldn't solve in the first place.

He was essentially badly stuck, and he knew it.

And that left him here, on a Monday after school, alone. Dan had separated himself from Gavin the moment the last class let out. Geoff couldn't pick him up for another hour—a meeting or something, he'd said. He had no idea where Michael was, but he was probably studying for finals. Gavin didn't want to bother him. That left him alone here for at least until Geoff could come pick him up, since they lived too far from the school to walk. Alone with nothing to do, he just sat against his locker in the hallway with a textbook to give the appeal that he was studying hard for finals.

At some point, he got absorbed in his thoughts, blankly staring down at the page of a textbook he didn't even remember the name of, too distracted by what was going on in his head to even so much as notice the outside world.

This was too much for him. He didn't have that many options, though—really just confront Dan again, continue to ignore him, get the story from Geoff, or let it go. The last option wasn't possible. It wasn't a matter of letting it go. It was too big for that, too much had gone wrong to just forget about it. This wasn't just a petty argument. Getting the story from Geoff was probably also out of the question—that felt a lot like defeat. Geoff had admitted he'd done wrong, apologized, and offered to talk to Gavin about it. Dan hadn't. Continuing to ignore him hadn't worked so far, and Gavin didn't think it would work later. Unfortunately, Gavin was stubborn and Dan was too ashamed and ridden by guilt to break.

That left one option. And even that was an option Gavin had already tried twice—once when finding out about it and again when Dan caught him out on the porch—and it'd worked neither time. He didn't think it'd work this time, which left him with nothing to—

Something light and balled up came flying right at him, just as Gavin whipped his head up, the ball of paper hitting him right between the eyes, making him flinch and quickly look up at the perpetrator. She just looked straight back at him, grinning from ear to ear with her hands on her hips ,showing pride in her aim . Lindsay Tuggey in the flesh. Gavin hadn't talked to her since their exchange about Michael a few weeks previous, so seeing her now was more than a little shocking.

He motioned to the textbook in a half-assed attempt to explain he'd been studying. She just made a dramatic show of rolling her eyes at him, "Please. I watched you stare blankly at that textbook for the past five minutes without your eyes even moving. I'm almost completely sure you're one of those kids who don't even study and still pull straight A's. Ugh. I'm simply dying of envy. Anyways," She pointed at the wadded up paper she'd thrown at his head. "I was wondering if you'd do me a favor."

He hesitated, taking a moment to appreciate her frighteningly accurate observations about his studying habits (or more—lack thereof), and raising and eyebrow before reaching for a notebook to write a response in.

What is it?

He held it up to her, watching as she clapped her hands together and jumped, "Great! That's wonderful, really. Really great. Listen. Wait-Bad word choice. That," She pointed at the crumpled paper again. "That's an official invitation to a little get-together I'm having at my house Wednesday to celebrate the end of finals and one half of the school year being over. Well, it's not an official invitation because really, I'm not going to take the time to make them for everyone, so it's special, since you have no idea where I live or anything. My address is on there and so is the time and date."

That was unexpected. A lot of kids knew Gavin, but his only 'friend' was really Michael. He'd never bothered to get close to anyone else, not really seeing it as anything he should go out of his way to do. Therefore, he'd never really gotten invited to anything. He'd gone to birthday parties and all that crap when he'd just been a kid, but not anything like this. It was unexpected. But not unwelcomed.

Right now, he'd exhausted all his options. Two were out of the question and two were things he'd tried before and had proven not to work. He didn't have anything else. He had nothing else to do. Wednesday was the day before Dan left for England. It'd be a distraction and even right now, he knew he'd need it. He wasn't going to spend that last day before Dan and Geoff left isolating himself upstairs. He couldn't handle any more of that. It sounded great, the only problem lying in the fact that Lindsay hadn't quite told him the 'favor' part.

So what's the catch?

She glanced away from him for a moment, just long enough for Gavin's watchful eyes to catch the flicker away from him, "It's not really a catch. I just—Michael. I want to make things right with Michael. Please, you have to understand. He won't talk to me. He does everything he can just to avoid me. He doesn't know my address. If you could just bring him, I could talk to him—please."

What Michael was doing to Lindsay sounded a lot like what Dan was doing to him.

He wrote one last sentence, a finality.

Consider it done.

---

If there was any moment Dan had ever had to stop and wonder exactly what he was doing, a moment when he didn't even know his true intentions, it would be now.

The only thing he could do was take apart his thoughts and try to make sense of what was going on.

He was in love with Gavin Free.

Fact. And it had been for a long time. A really long time, and he'd finally, finally admitted it to someone. Michael knew, and Michael knew of what was going on between he and Gavin. Worst of all, Michael was also involved in it in more ways than one. But yes, he'd definitely fallen in love with Gavin at some point, and that point had definitely not been a recent point in time. Gavin, the exception to all his rules—

Gavin Free hated him.

Probably fact. Maybe. It wasn't for certain but given the way Gavin had told Dan to get the hell away from him the last time he'd signed anything besides a direct translation to him, it was probably fact. Dan had also done a lot to perpetuate his hatred and anger, from not telling him to all out avoiding him, which had been hard given how close they'd always been, and that was a certain fact, no questions asked. In the end, he really didn't know how Gavin felt towards him. Lately, it seemed to be leaning towards dislike, and Dan was still wary of even thinking of anything being requited before all this had happened.

Michael Jones was his friend.

In a world of uncertainty, that was one thing he knew for sure. Michael was his friend. Michael had been there when Gavin had run away. Michael had been there that entire night and Michael had held him underneath the flickering streetlight until Dan had finally gotten a hold of himself and pulled it together. Michael had also been there during the late nights of the past week, when Dan had stayed up, unable to sleep on the couch, and Michael had met him out on the doorstep two nights in a row in the late hours of the night, just to watch Dan struggle to hold it together as Gavin acted as if he didn't exist.

Michael Jones was unquestionably his friend.

Michael Jones was currently angry with Gavin.

Another uncertainty. With Michael, it was hard to tell whether he was annoyed or just slightly angry. Obviously, it was easy to tell when he was absolutely pissed, and thankfully this was not one of those times. Michael Jones was currently hiding with Dan, a frown set deep into his face as he sat on the stairs of the off-limits basement in the unfamiliar house they were both in. Which brought him immediately to his next thought.

He'd invaded Gavin's privacy and followed him to a party he hadn't told Dan he was going to.

Partly true. Or maybe wholly. Dan liked to think he was doing the right thing by doing this, but the moment he'd realized exactly what he was doing, he'd figured out the whole 'right thing' part wasn't true. He'd asked Michael about it once Gavin had left the house, texting him and almost immediately getting the address out of him, and then he'd driven here, making sure to steer clear of the tiny brown car with Michael, Gavin, and some reckless kid named Ray Narvaez. He'd invaded Gavin's privacy and essentially followed him here. He was now a liar, a horrible friend, an even worse interpreter, and a stalker.

He didn't even really know why he'd followed him here. A lot of the things he did lately didn't really seem to have a good reason to go with them, and they were just adding up, making him feel worse and worse with each passing day. He knewthat he should just tell Gavin. The truth, just like he wanted. That was all. And Dan owed it to him. He owed him a lot after all this, and he didn't think there was a way to string enough words together to apologize to him nearly enough. But he couldn't.

Guilt. So much guilt. He felt like he was drowning in it and struggling to keep his head above. He felt guilty for what had happened five years ago, and in the end, that was what this trip was all about. He wanted to make things right. It wasn't the guilt he was trying to make go away. He'd accepted already that he had to just move on from his lack of action five years previous, but he still wanted to do something now, to make sure they wouldn't come back, that his best friend wouldn't be hurt again, that Gavin could go on with his life and never have to worry about it ever again.

The main source of his guilt, though, was the lie itself. The guilt came from the fact that he'd created this infrastructure of lies and Gavin had realized it and called him out on it, and it was partly his own guilt that kept him from just telling Gavin the whole truth. It seemed backwards even now, but it was part of the reason, the other part being that he hadn't wanted Gavin to find out because he hadn't wanted him to think about his parents at all.

Things were rough right now, but Gavin was happy. Gavin had found his family. He'd chosen his family. He had a mother and a father who treated him right and he was doing things he liked and Gavin was actually bloody happy. That moment Gavin had asked him about what the hell was on his computer screen—he'd seen Gavin's reaction. He'd seen Gavin completely shutting down, just focusing on something seemingly small in comparison to the bigger whole—Dan's lie to the fact that his biological parents had been released from prison. He'd seen it, and he'd been immediately reminded of Gavin in the rehabilitation center, just after the accident, when he reacted to nothing about his parents but got so wholly furious over Dan's guilt and pity that he'd gotten worked up enough over it to scream at him on multiple occasions.

This reminded him so much of that situation that Dan was sure it was the exact same thing causing it, the exact same reaction. Griffon had explained it to him once—Gavin had learned over time to just not react to anything his parents did, probably because it'd only provoke them more or because it was his way of suppressing pain, but all that came out in separate ways. Namely, it came out in things that were legitimately wrong, like Dan's lying or his constant guilt, but he used them as a cover up to the real problem.

That was the other part of the reason he hadn't just told Gavin the truth. As much as it stung to be ignored and told to get away from him or cursed at or whatever, Gavin still didn't know the full story—that his parents were trying to locate him and were probably trying to see him again.

However, none of that pertained to the reason why Dan was sitting in the dark stairwell going down to the basement of the house he'd followed Gavin to.

To be honest, he really didn't know why he was here. He had a couple ideas, but nothing solid. Maybe he'd just wanted to make sure Gavin was alright. It was, after all, odd for him to go to any sort of a party, even if it was at the house of a girl Dan considered to be respectable. Maybe he'd wanted to know why he was going. Maybe he'd just been curious. Maybe he'd wanted to talk to Gavin. He didn't know. He had no idea. All he knew was that he was down here hiding, with Michael sat next to him.

"It's fucking cold down here. Why the fuck are basements so cold?" He could feel Michael shivering beside him, his hushed voice breaking the silence of the basement.

"It's underground. Why—Why the hell are you down here, anyways?" This had been where he'd discovered Michael. Dan was down here to avoid getting seen by Gavin or anyone that would tell Gavin he was here, and he'd found Michael shivering on the basement steps and cursing under his breath for whatever reason. All he knew was that Michael had come to the party and now he was hiding down here for one reason or another. At the very least, it was nice to have a bit of company. He'd expected to just be down here alone and trying to figure out what to do next.

Michael didn't answer at first, freezing up, "No reason."

Dan sighed in the darkness, frowning. He'd been hoping for conversation. Or something. "Really? Because I don't think you'd be down here if you weren't bloody hiding from something. That's why I'm down here."

"Hey, I don't need any of your goddamn British condescending shit," Annoyance flared in Michael's voice and Dan almost felt himself smile. "Maybe I just wanted to fucking keep you company."

"I found you down here first."

That apparently took Michael off guard, since it shut him up pretty quickly. The moment of silence between them was long and drawn out, leaving only the muffled sounds from the party upstairs to fall on his ears. Again, he found himself wondering why Gavin had come here in the first place and where he was now. Michael and Dan were both hiding from something, Gavin had no one to translate for him, and Dan knew Gavin wasn't going to utter a word with so many people around to listen. Gavin had no way to communicate. Dan didn't think he'd be okay, and part of him wanted to go check, to finally break and talk to him, but he stayed put.

Finally, Michael spoke, his voice hushed, the shivering beside him stopped, "I used to know the girl who lives here. We had sort of a falling out and I've been avoiding her ever since."

Dan turned towards him, even though he could only see the outline of Michael's face in the darkness, "Ex-girlfriend?"

Another pause, "No. Gavin didn't say whose party this was and I'm not about to give her the chance to confront me. Things are… Just complicated. Really complicated. I don't even know why she'd ever want to talk to me again after everything that happened." His words were followed by a long sigh and Dan let the topic drop, the two of them falling back into the pattern of silence they'd had before.

He didn't know how long it was before Michael spoke again, and Dan was immediately taken aback by his words, "You're leaving tomorrow."

It wasn't a question. Michael was stating a fact. Dan was leaving tomorrow with Geoff. He was leaving tomorrow and everything had fallen apart and he had no idea how to patch it back together again. It was all in ruins, and he desperately wanted to fix it, but the only way to fix it was something Dan didn't resort to, even if it was the thing that was the most fair and obvious answer.

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Eight in the morning," He didn't want to go, not when everything was like this, not when Gavin hated him and pushed him away, not when he was so wrapped up in this infrastructure of lies that he couldn't even tell Gavin the truth. He didn't want to go when things were this bad. It felt like running away, like taking off and leaving his problems behind in an entirely different country.

"Dan."

"I know."

Michael didn't have to say it—Dan already knew. He knew he couldn't leave like this. He knew he couldn't leave Gavin. He knew he'd have to make up with him and that this was his last chance. Michael didn't have to say it and if even Michael could notice it, could see what Dan was too blinded by guilt to see, then it was time to stop telling himself to just keep avoiding Gavin and talk to him. It'd been almost two weeks of this shit. Two weeks of them fighting and Gavin ignoring him and feeling like he was being pushed further and further into a building snowball of guilt. He had to do something, and he had to do it now, because tomorrow it'd be too late.

He had to fix it. Fixing it didn't entail going to England. Fixing it didn't entail some heroic deed. Fixing it entailed finding Gavin right now, right here, and telling him he fucked up. He had to try now, before he left the country. If he left without fixing things, he had a horrible, lingering feeling that he wouldn't be able to fix things after that.

"You have to—" Michael started again.

"Yeah. I know," He didn't know how. He didn't know what to say to Gavin, how to even begin to apologize, how to tell him here, when there were so many people around. He breathed slowly, his hands knotting and tangling in his hair, millions of things running through his head all at once, making it so he couldn't just focus on one. He had to try. Try, try, try. He'd come here for a reason, that reason still too far beyond his reach, and now that he was here, he had to make amends. This was the last chance he'd get and it was now or never.

Dan looked at Michael again, just barely able to find his eyes in the darkness, their gaze locking for a moment before Dan stood, forcing himself to be calm and controlled in the face of what he considered to be the worst kind of uncertainty—when it was make it or break it and when his friendship with Gavin was on the line.

In the end, that was what it came down to, the worst part being that knew he'd put ten years of friendship into jeopardy—and for what, exactly?

-

The crowd was thick and the music was loud and he'd lost Michael somewhere in the sea of people. He recognized almost no one, pushing his way out before anyone could say a single thing to him. Gavin wouldn't be here, not when he couldn't stand being in crowds in the first place. Dan knew him well enough that he could at least guess that Gavin had probably isolated himself. He had no one by his side and no means of communication. He wouldn't willfully put himself into a situation in which he'd be forced to speak. So the answer was isolation. Gavin would put himself somewhere without a crowd and somewhere he wouldn't be noticed.

Michael was nowhere—He'd come up from the basement with Dan, but had gotten lost in the house somewhere. It was a loss, but the important part was finding Gavin. He didn't try to look for Michael, pushing his way through people until he finally reached the backdoor, sliding it open and stepping out onto deck outside, the quiet contrasting with the loudness inside as he shut the sliding door behind him.

Whoever lived in the house apparently had one hell of a penchant for gardening—the yard below the deck was beautifully serene, calming next to the chaos inside. It was exactly the place Gavin would go—an easy place to get away from a crowd, filled with flowers and trees, resembling something out a fairytale book. The sun was setting overhead, bathing the yard in a sea of deep colors. The noise from the party was muffled by the sliding glass door, the only sounds being that of the babbling little pond and the creaking of the swingset to the back of the yard.

That was where he found Gavin, sat on a swing, swaying back and forth slightly as he tried to coax an outdoor cat towards him. They were mostly alone out here, save for a couple sitting on the loveseat on the deck and a couple stragglers who'd come out for fresh air, leaving Dan free to approach Gavin at any time he wanted.

He didn't, though, or at least not immediately. For a few moments, he just watched, looking out over the railing of the deck at the scene beneath him as Gavin got the cat close enough to pat it on the head. He let Gavin have a few more moments of peace, knowing he was about to ruin it, knowing that this probably wouldn't go well and he could possibly just end up making it worse. He was in a place Dan didn't get to see him in very often—alone and in a state of calmness, unbothered by his surroundings—and something made him want to just keep looking at him.

He wouldn't. Instead, he found himself making his way across the yard. Gavin never once looked up at him, too preoccupied with trying to get the cat to come to him, Dan too worried with figuring out what he was going to get his attention.

It was quick. The cat ran, scurrying away faster than Dan had ever seen any cat move, leaping away from Gavin just as Dan approached him. Gavin's head whipped up to follow it, trying to see why it'd run, his eyes rather falling on Dan. He saw, then, a real reaction. It wasn't practiced or forced or a façade. It was real. Gavin froze, his entire body going completely rigid, his hand in midair. His green eyes were huge, looking Dan straight in the eyes, the first eye contact they'd had in two weeks, genuine surprise written across his expression and in the way he gaped slightly at Dan, clearly shocked that he was here. And none of it was anger. It was his real, initial reaction, not something he'd learned or channeled his frustrations into so he could feel. It was genuine and in that moment, there wasn't a single bit of anger or hatred on Gavin's face.

It was gone almost as quickly as it'd happened, Gavin frowning almost immediately, narrowing his eyes at Dan and planting his feet on the ground to stop himself from swaying, "What are you doing here?"

He signed it confidently, and Dan knew Gavin could clearly see the way Dan's hands were shaking as he answered him, "Looking for you."

Gavin stood and Dan stepped forward, closing most of the space between them. Gavin had done this before, running away in the face of problems. He'd run the night he'd found out and he'd run that morning on the porch when Dan had tried to talk to him. That had been their last conversation until this, and Dan wasn't about to let Gavin run again. He needed to fix things, and he needed to fix them now.

"Why?" Gavin wouldn't look at him, glancing around him. Dan was right in front of him now, preventing him from easily running away from him. He'd made it so Gavin would have to go around him, and it was clear he was still looking for a way to escape.

"Because—" Dan struggled for a response, trying to formulate anything to say to him. Nothing was coming to mind. Gavin had always been the one with a talent for words. Dan was just the one who spoke them. When things like this were fully up to him, he struggled a lot with it. "Because I'm sorry."

Gavin was looking up at him now, his head tilted just slightly back to meet his eyes, and Dan had to fight to keep his gaze, to keep looking at that scowl he had at Dan's shitty attempt at an apology, "Is that all? Is that all you have to say to me? It's been two weeks and that—that's all you could come up with? 'I'm sorry'? Yeah, you're a piece of shit. I can't believe you."

It hurt. It stung a lot and Dan couldn't say anything back to him and that gave Gavin the opening. He started to take off, taking Dan's recoil at his words as an opportunity, and Dan saw him look to his left and make the decision. He didn't let him carry it through and just as Gavin started to make off in that direction, Dan grabbed his thin wrist, easily pulling him back, yanking on him to force him to stay here with him. The reversal of momentum almost sent Gavin to the ground and he violently pulled back against him, trying to twist out of Dan's hold. He pried at his fingers with his other hand and Dan took the chance to grab him by the wrist there, too, both forcing Gavin to stay where he was and rendering him completely unable to talk, unless he decided to actually speak.

He had him. He had him here in his hold, squirming and glaring at him.

"Stop," It was high pitched, loud, a whine coming from Gavin, his voice sounding nothing like it was usually—practiced and controlled. "Stop—Let go of me. Stop. Dan. Let go."

Gavin was looking from him to behind him, where Dan knew they had all eyes on them now. Gavin's voice had echoed through the neighborhood, completely uncontrolled and unrestrained. It almost made him let go, nearly making him feel bad enough for holding him like this, in a way that was forcing him to stay here, that he almost abandoned everything he'd promised himself he'd do. Almost.

"I'm sorry! Look—I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Gav," He couldn't control his own voice, he realized, unable to keep the emotion out of it and the level down. Gavin obviously couldn't hear it, but everyone else could and everyone else was going to see him break again, just like he had that night Gavin ran away. "I'm sorry. I'm so—I'm so fucking sorry. I don't know why—I can't tell you why I did it. I'm just sorry and I fucked up really badly and I should've told you. I'm fucking sorry. I didn't want you to find out. You were never supposed to know."

Gavin was still pulling at him harshly, but just for a moment, he stopped, looking up at Dan, that fire from before returning to him, "Tell me what?"

"Your parents—" He breathed the words out, hating how they sounded in the open, hating that he had to say them, hating that he had to tell Gavin. None of this ever should've happened. It should've been twenty years. Instead, they got five and Dan had decided to be a goddamned idiot and go to England to make things right, when that wouldn't really fix anything. "—They're out of prison. And they're trying to see you again. They're trying to find you. Look, Gav, I just wanted to make things right. I didn't do anything five years—"

"Just fucking stop with that already!" Gavin yelled at him, his voice louder than anything at the party, anything he'd heard before, and nothing had ever resounded in his ears the way that did. Gavin was breathing hard, never dropping Dan's gaze as he screamed at him, always looking him straight in the eyes as their argument took on the tone Dan hadn't heard since the last time Gavin told him to just stop with the guilt. "I've heard that. From. You. A million times. You know how much I hate it. You know that you can't go back and make things right or whatever bullshit. I don't care about what happened five years ago. I care about right. Now. What's done is done, Dan. Get the hell over it. Leave it in the past where it belongs."

"I can't."

His two words were uttered as he stared at the ground. He let go of Gavin, causing him to stumble backwards. But he didn't run. He didn't try to leave. He stayed where he was, rubbing his wrists slightly, still looking straight at Dan.

"You're going so you can leave me, aren't you?"

Gavin still spoke out loud, his voice more controlled now. He spoke at a normal volume, his pronunciation much better, but it didn't stop his emotions from just slightly seeping into his voice, just enough that Dan could hear it. Hurt. A lot of hurt. Gavin really thought that he was leaving him for good. He had no idea why Gavin could think that, where he could ever come up with—

The Burnie thing.

Gavin had been upset then, too. He'd thought Dan was rejecting a future with him when it was really much simpler than that—he just didn't want to be on camera. He should've known. He should've seen it coming. Gavin was—actually really insecure. He had this confident, assured front, but in reality, he was extremely insecure and had a hard time when he was completely sure someone he trusted hated him or didn't like it and was constantly assured different. Dan had told him later that day in the car that that wasn't the case, that he just didn't want to be on camera, but he'd still been left with the same impression. And all this, all this Dan trying to fix things, to ease his guilt—

Gavin had thought it was because Dan was trying to make it up to him so he wouldn't feel guilty about leaving.

That wasn't the case at all. In fact, that was the complete opposite of the case.

"Gavin, no," He took a step back, putting his hands up in a sign of defeat. "That's not it."

"Bullshit," Gavin followed him, stepping towards him, backing Dan up towards the deck slowly. Their positions had switched, with Dan now on the defense against Gavin. "Just come out and say it. I need to hear it."

"Gavin, no," He repeated, continuing to back away from him. "Stop. Listen to me."

He couldn't remember a time he'd seen Gavin more utterly upset. He couldn't remember ever seeing it so clear on his face, across his features and in his voice. He was always very guarded and in-control of his reactions. Right now, all of that had seemed to just completely drop. This was the first time he'd ever seen Gavin react so strongly to something.

"I wish this had never happened. I wish I'd never found out. I wish you'd just told me—" Dan's spine hit the wooden supports of the deck as Gavin carried on. He'd backed him up all the way across the yard, not accepting Dan's sign of defeat and plead for him to just stop and take in what he had to say. "I wish I'd never—"

He fell quiet, and then everything went silent. There was no noise, nothing Dan could hear, nothing his ears picked up, just a single beat of absolute, complete silence. No one talked. Dan didn't breathe. The wind didn't blow, the music was in between songs. There was nothing and in that beat of silence, he realized that it was like this every day for Gavin, that this was just one little moment of his life. He took in everything in that moment, the strange look of a mixture between shock and desperation on Gavin's face, the way he froze up completely, the way he'd only just noticed Michael at the deck stairs, watching them and stuck in the moment of nothing, just like he and Gavin.

Then, everything was happening all at once.

Gavin was against him, kissing him hard, pushing him back against the supports, and his arms were suddenly around Gavin's waist, holding him against him and nothing else was there—not Michael, not the crowd watching him, not anything. Gavin's chest was pressed up against his, the pressure of his body leaning up to reach his face, and it was Dan's best friend, the same best friend who was the exception, the exception he was in love with, against him. It was Gavin's lips against his, Gavin's body against his and it brought Dan back to what he'd said to Michael, as, in the few moments of being shoved against the supports, he felt like he fell in love with Gavin a thousand times over again.

He'd probably imagined this moment for years. He'd never actively let himself think about it or even allowed himself to consider the possibility that his feelings were even the least bit requited. It wasn't something he'd ever thought would happen. It was just something his mind wandered to when there was no buffer to stop it, usually in the nights when he was on the brink of sleep. His thoughts would just fall on it, his mind creating thousands of possibilities and scenarios he'd thought would never happen. He'd imagined this a lot. But he'd never imagined it like this, never in the middle of a fight with Gavin, never in front of Michael or anyone else. This was an impossibility he'd never considered and yet, it was happening.

Gavin's hands were curled into the links of the support on either side of Dan's shoulder, giving off the impression that he was holding him there, pinning him there. He wasn't, with Dan's ability to easily overpower him, but he didn't pull away, his hands pressed into Gavin's back and his hips, holding him against him rather than shoving him away from him.

It felt like it lasted forever, and at the same time, it was entirely too short. Gavin pulling away was sudden. One moment he was up against him, kissing him in the middle of a fight and the next, he wasn't. Gavin pulled away from him, out of his hold, and Dan immediately felt his absence. He didn't say anything. He was too taken aback by the sudden change, from the way Gavin had gone from accusing him of wanting to leave to kissing him, in shock from the events that had just transpired. Gavin looked about as shocked as he was, eyes huge and a hand raised as if he were about to sign something to him, but couldn't find the words to say.

They were both speechless, signless, and motionless. Neither one of them moved for one excruciatingly long second. Dan was still trying to catch up. He knew that'd happened. He knew Gavin had just pushed him up against the wooden supports of the deck and kissed him. But he couldn't comprehend it. It didn't feel or plausible. He was still in shock from it, and when Gavin started backing away from him, he did nothing to stop it.

And then, Gavin did exactly what Dan expected him to, glanced behind him, and ran.

-

He took off faster than Dan could catch him, running away from him, darting off in the other direction.

"Gavin!" The yell tore from him faster than he could realize that it was useless to call after him. It was instinct and Gavin didn't stop, gone from Dan's line of view. He'd watched Gavin jump the yard's fence and he was gone and not coming back, as far as Dan could see. He left Dan alone, standing under the deck, no explanation as to why he'd suddenly kissed him, no continuation of their fight, nothing. He had no idea what to think and even less of an idea what to do.

He had to find Gavin.

That much was obvious. He had to find him. He had to continue this, as much as he didn't want to fight with him anymore. He had to figure out what all that was and why it'd happened-he wouldn't leave when things had suddenly just gotten even more complicated than they had been before. Gavin was gone and Michael still had him fixed with his stare of shock and disbelief, and Dan needed his help.

"Michael," He didn't move from his spot and neither did Michael, even though he'd clearly heard him. He called out to him, his voice strangely devoid of emotion in the midst of Dan not knowing how to feel about everything. "Michael. Please help me find Gavin."

There was no argument, no questions, no comments. All Michael did was nod. It was better that way and Dan didn't have to explain anything. He didn't know where to begin; in reality, he was just as confused as Michael was, if not more, and he was grateful for the fact that Michael didn't say even a word as he joined Dan under the deck, sighing heavily as he leaned on the support next to him.

"Where do we start?" He asked, quietly, his words almost lost over the hum of the music from inside. Dan didn't even want to look to see the crowd he and Gavin had acquired through their spectacle of the fight. It'd been a horrible idea to confront him out here, and grabbing Gavin by the wrists to cut him off was perhaps the worst idea he'd ever had. It occurred to him now that everyone else had been under the impression that Gavin was totally mute, rather than just partially. He didn't speak in class-Dan did for him-and he was never put on the spot or thrown into a situation where he couldn't communicate, so forcing him to do so had been really shitty, actually. He owed Gavin another apology for that, as well as an explanation and reassurance that no, he wasn't going to England and then leaving him.

"I don't know," Dan answered him truthfully. There was no point in lying anymore or pretending like he knew what was best. He'd probably fucked things up again and he didn't know how to fix them, what to say to Gavin, or even where to start looking for him. He shrugged, turning to Michael, "Probably-somewhere alone. He wouldn't have gone too far from here, since he's not familiar with this neighborhood. He also wouldn't hide in someone else's yard, and he's most likely not inside."

All guesses. Educated guesses, but still guesses. Michael took a moment, clearly thinking, frowning slightly, "If he's not inside, he might be out by the street? There's not many people out where Ray parked. He might be around there."

Dan closed his eyes, leaning back and breathing slowly, attempting to get a grip on things and figure out where he stood. "Yeah. Let's check out there. That's better than nothing."

They walked in silence, Dan staring at the ground in front of him, Michael leading the way. He followed Michael out through the back gate, both of them having an unspoken agreement to not go through the house again. Darkness had fallen overhead, the street illuminated by dim streetlights and the lights from the surrounding houses. Michael led him about a half block away from the house, down near where Dan had parked, thinking it was far enough to divert attention. He brought him to the brown car Dan knew belonged to Ray Narvaez, a friend of Michael's.

Only when they reached the car did Dan speak again, "Why?"

Michael was glancing around the car and towards the darkened houses they were parked outside of, only stopping when he heard Dan ask the question that'd been burning at his throat ever since their conversation in the basement, "Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?" It didn't make any sense to him. This was Dan's problem. Michael had no obligation to help him, and yet, here he was, helping Dan look for Gavin. He'd also been the one to push Dan to making up with him in the first place. He didn't understand why Michael bothered, why he was here with him when he could be back at the party.

Michael stood up straight, Dan just barely able to see his face in the near-darkness, "I don't know. Maybe I sort of-you know. Care about him. He seemed pretty fucking upset. I just want to see if he's alright. If you two are alright. Because I have no goddamn idea what that was back there."

"Yeah, you and me both," He agreed, glancing around him one last time. "I don't think he's around here. Let's check in-"

What interrupted him wasn't Michael cutting him off and it wasn't someone else finding their way into their conversation. It was the loud roar of an engine and the bright glare of white headlights blinding the both of them, making Dan stumble back and attempt to cover his eyes. His reaction was immediate, and he didn't wonder for a second what was going on; he just immediately knew.

"Gavin!" Again, his yell was instinctual, and so was the way he took off, running towards where Gavin had started Dan's car. His keys were gone and he hadn't noticed until now, the keyring he usually clipped to his belt missing. He'd been too distracted to figure it out beforehand, and too preoccupied with everything else to realize the most simple thing. Gavin was upset and when he was legitimately upset and actually showed it, he was prone to abandoning his usual amount of forethought and logical thinking. He became driven by emotions, and this was clearly one of those times.

He got there before anything bad happened, before Gavin actually had the initiative to drive. His dislike of driving had finally played out in Dan's favor. Deaf people could get their licenses, but Gavin had never wanted to, hating even the idea of being behind the wheel all together.

In a second, he'd thrown open the door to the driver's side, stopping Gavin from getting any further, Gavin just staring down at him with a look of mixed surprise and fear. He didn't want a confrontation. He'd wanted to keep on running away and not talking to Dan. He wasn't going to let him get away. This was their last chance and everything was confusing and frustrating, but there was something there, something that Dan felt, too. Gavin had kissed him out in the backyard and then he'd stared at Dan in a look of complete shock, like he was surprised at himself, and then run off. There was something there and Gavin was terrified of Dan leaving him and he had no idea where to start.

So he did the only thing he could think of, and he continued what they'd left off at in the backyard, leaning in, bracing an arm against the car door, and kissing his best friend. It was gentle, nothing like what it'd been before, nothing hard and desperate and filled with every frustration. This was an answer to the question Gavin had asked, an answer he could only give after going after him, after trying to make things right between them. He couldn't tell where he was going with this or where it led, but it was definitely somewhere, and he realized that this was his best friend, the person he'd stuck with for ten years and would stick with for as long as he could, the same person he'd slowly fallen in love with over the years, and he was kissing him.

Things weren't going to be the same after this, not when it had gone this far. He came to terms with that the moment Gavin put his shaking arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer to him, the fact that Dan was still standing outside the door hindering his ability to.

He had to pull away, then, because there was so much to say and not enough words to say it.

"I'm not leaving," It was simple, a reassurance to Gavin, spoken out loud rather than signed. He repeated it, leaned in close to him, "I'm not leaving. That's not what this is about. I'm not leaving you. That was never what this is about."

Gavin just stared back at him, his expression unreadable in the darkness, slowly untangling himself from Dan and sitting back. Dan let him have his time, waiting until Gavin nodded and signed his response, "Okay. I-" He didn't continue that sentence, taking a deep breathe, his eyes flickering back to Dan. "Okay. I want to go home."

-

It was over quickly, the night feeling long and drawn out. Gavin had climbed over into the passenger's seat, staring out his window, Dan taking the moment to talk with Michael.

"Sorry about that," He rubbed the bridge of his nose, heaving a heavy sigh as he leaned on his car, knowing he had to make this quick. Michael had watched it all play out, standing off to the side as Dan kissed Gavin and told him that he wasn't leaving. "And sorry for ruining your night, too."

It hadn't seemed like Michael had really been enjoying the party before, but he'd ended up spending the rest of it helping Dan look for Gavin and watching them as they argued. It seemed like a really crap night and now Dan was leaving with Gavin, too emotionally exhausted to carry on tonight. He'd rather just go home and deal with stuff, even though he didn't particularly want to leave Michael here.

"It's nothing. Really," Michael sounded far away, distant.

Dan hesitated, watching the house half a block away, "You'll be alright?"

"Yeah. Alright. I'll be okay."

Dan turned, opening the door to the driver's side of the car, ready to go home and finally have things return to semi-normal. Michael grabbed his shoulder before he could, though, making him spin around to face him again, "Hey. Wait. Gavin. Is he going to be alright?"

He didn't know. He really didn't know. Gavin had a lot to think about and so did Dan. But he didn't want to make Michael any more worried than he already was, "Yeah. He's fine."

Their responses were short, Michael constantly pausing and sounding distracted. Instead of getting in the car and closing up the conversation, Dan lingered. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd be in a totally separate country. Everything had changed today and tomorrow he'd have to leave it behind and focus on something else. Tomorrow. "Michael. I need you to do something for me. I'll never ask you for another favor after this, but-I need you to make sure Gavin's alright while I'm gone. Please. He can take care of himself perfectly fine, but please. Just stick around him."

Michael didn't hesitate and for once, he actually sounded completely there, "I promise I'll look after him when you're gone."

Dan let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relieved to hear the words from Michael's

mouth. He believed it. He believed Michael when he told him he'd look after Gavin. That was all he needed, all he wanted from him, "Thanks. I mean it. I trust you a lot, Michael."

Suddenly, Michael's arms were around him, around his waist, and Michael was against him, hugging him tightly. It took Dan off guard, making him drop the keys he'd taken from Gavin onto the ground, gasping sharply as Michael seemed to be trying to hug the air out of him. It was over, then, in less than a moment, Michael pulling away just a second later and stepping back, not even looking at Dan, "Call me at least. Tomorrow when you land. Please."

Michael had promised to take care of Gavin when he was gone. This was the least he could do in exchange. "Yeah. I'll call you tomorrow. I promise."

It was fall when everything changed, and winter where things started to mend.

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