Breaking The Rules

Family Matters

Justin's POV

As I walk into the door of the house I grew up in, I hear shouting. I go into the kitchen, which is where I find my sister, Molly, and my Mother glaring at each other. They don't notice me standing there.

"Why do you always treat me like a little girl?" Molly yells.

"You don't want to be treated like a little girl? Then stop acting childish!" Mom yells back.

"It's no big fucking deal, Mom, God!" Molly says, throwing her hands up.

"Coming home after 3:00 in the morning smelling like booze and cigarettes IS a big deal, young lady," Mom says, wagging her finger at my sister. Molly rolls her eyes.

"I have repeatedly told you that on weekends you are to be home by midnight, period. And, you are to keep your cell phone ON at all times. Do you have any idea what I went through when you didn't come home hours after your curfew and I couldn't get a hold of you?" Mom says.

"What's going on?" I say, interrupting them. They look at me, surprised to see me standing there.

Molly turns to me with a grateful look on her face. "Justin, thank God. She is driving me crazy! You of all people know how it is. Will you please talk to Mom and make her understand how fucking uptight she's being?" Molly says.

"Watch your mouth, young lady," Mom warns.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Mother. I must have misplaced my halo," Molly smarts off. I hold back a laugh at her sarcasm. She reminds me so much of myself at that age.

My mother throws her hands up in the air in defeat, and looks at me. "You see how she talks to me? She's totally out of control, Justin," she says.

I can see how upset my mother is, and I know that right now the best thing is for Molly to leave the room right now so I can talk to Mom so we can try to figure this all out.

"Molly, go to your room and let me talk to Mom alone," I tell her calmly. She gets a smug look on her face, and then heads out of the kitchen, giving a lasting glare to our mother on the way.

Mom looks down and sighs, and I hear her sniffle. I hug her, and rub small circles on her back, hoping it will calm her.

"Mom, why don't you sit down," I tell her, as I lead her to a chair at the kitchen table. She sits down, props her elbows on the table, and holds her head in her hands.

"I don't know what to do," she sobs quietly. "She lies. Her grades have gone down. She used to be a straight-A student!" Mom points out. I nod in understanding, and let her continue. "She is hanging around these low-life kids at school. She smokes. She drinks. Last night wasn't the first time she's come home smelling like alcohol," she admits.

"Have you talked to Dad about any of this?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah. He says that I'm not giving her the proper discipline she needs. He says it's my fault," she tells me.

I shake my head at her. "Mom, it's not your fault. I know you're a good parent. You can't be here every single minute to watch what she does, and you shouldn't have to. Molly is not a baby. She's old enough to know right from wrong," I tell her.

"I don't know what went wrong. She was fine. She was responsible, respectful and a good girl. We used to be close. Then all of a sudden she changed." She looks at me and I see tears stream down her face. "I'm a bad mother," she sobs.

"Aw, Mom, don't say that. You're not a bad mother," I assure her. "You raised me, didn't you?" I say with a smile and elbow her softly. She laughs at that.

"Yeah, and you drove me crazy too," she smirks, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. She's quiet a moment before she speaks again.

"I've been thinking," she says seriously. I look at her puffy, red, tired eyes. She looks so exhausted and as if she hasn't had much sleep. By the tone of her voice, I know she means business. She doesn't get this look on her face very often.

"What about?" I dare to ask.

"I think that maybe Molly should go live with your father for a little while," she tells me.

"Are you serious?" I ask, not liking the idea. This is the same homophobic asshole who kicked me out of the house when he found out I was gay!

"Well, I don't know what else to do, Justin. She won't listen to me. If he thinks that he can do a better job, let him give it a try," she says bitterly.

"Mom, I don't think that's a good idea," I tell her.

"Well, if you have any good ideas, I'm all ears. I'm afraid that if I don't do something now, it's going to get worse, and then it may be too late. We may lose her," Mom says, and then tears up again. I nod my head. I still don't like the idea, but if she doesn't have any other choice, then what can we do?

"Justin can you maybe talk to her? She listens to you. Maybe it will help," she suggests.

"All right, I'll see what I can do," I agree.

"Thank you," she says, kissing me on the cheek.

I walk up the stairs and as I stand outside of Molly's bedroom I can hear music playing loudly. I knock hard on Molly's bedroom door, but I'm pretty sure my voice and my knocking is being drowned out by that fucking hip hop shit she's got playing on her stereo.

"Mollusk, it's me, open up," I shout out. She opens the door slowly and looks to see if I'm alone. Seemingly satisfied it's just me standing there, she goes to her bed and lays supine, waiting for me to say something.

I walk in with an expressionless face, and close the door behind me. I then turn off the stereo, before sitting at the foot of her bed. She's got her arms crossed over her chest, and she's got this annoyed look on her face as she stares at the ceiling, continuing to wait for me to say something.

I look at her sternly. "You need to fucking knock this shit off," I tell her in a low voice. She looks at me, and I can see that she is surprised that I'm not siding with her. She looks at me as if I have two heads and then frowns.

"Justin, what the fuck is your problem? You know what it's like. She treats me like a baby. She won't let me do anything. She freaks out about EVERYTHING," she whines.

"Molly, you're 16 years old. I know you think that you know it all, and you want to do whatever you want, but you've got to be smart. You're getting into trouble, and if you don't shape up, trouble is going to kick your ass," I tell her.

She lets out a disappointed sigh. "I thought you'd understand. You and Mom used to fight a lot. I remember," she says.

"Ah, the good old days," I smirk, remembering the countless fights I got into with both Mom and Dad.

"You were lucky though; you got the Hell out," she says.

I frown at her. "My situation was completely different, Moll. I didn't get out because I wanted to. I had to leave because of Dad. Because he wouldn't accept me for who I was. I always held out some hope that he would change his mind and ask me to come back home, but he never did. You have it better than you think," I tell her.

She looks away from me, and it looks as though what I'm saying is registering.

"What did Mom say?" she asks.

"She's thinking of sending you to live with Dad," I tell her.

Her head swings back around fast and she looks at me with wide eyes. "What?" she yells. She immediately darts out of her bed and throws open her bedroom door and heads for the stairs.

"Mom!" she yells running down the stairs. I quickly follow her, hoping that things don't get too ugly.

I see Mom walk over to the foot of the stairs to see what Molly's yelling about, when my sister meets her down there and greets her with a glare.

"I'm NOT going to live with Dad and his skanky, Barbie-bitch girlfriend!" she yells at our mother. I can see Mom is trying to keep her cool.

"Molly, you leave me no choice. There is no other way," she tells her.

Molly gives me a pleading look. "Justin, please. Can't I stay with you for a while?" she asks.

"What?" I shriek. I'm completely taken aback by her request. "No, Mollusk. No way," I tell her.

"Why not? I promise I'll be good. Please don't make me live with Dad, I'm begging you," she says desperately. I look at her and really feel a little sorry for her. I wouldn't want to go live with that asshole either.

"Molly, it's not a good idea. I'm busy with school and my art. I don't have time to sit around and baby-sit you," I tell her. She gives a look like she's be slapped in the face.

"You don't NEED to baby-sit me. I can take care of myself," she argues.

"Obviously you can't, or none of this bullshit would be happening," I point out.

She looks away and frowns, crossing her arms in the defensive position. After a moment her face softens and she turns back to look at me.

"I don't want to live with Dad," she says quietly, and I see that her eyes have started to tear up. As I look at her, I realize the irony of the fact that she looks so much like a little girl at this moment. She looks so scared and vulnerable.

I think Mom is thinking the same thing, because she looks at her with a face that says she wants to take her daughter into her arms and never let her go. I let out a huge sigh.

"All right. Mom, if it's okay with you, Molly can come stay with me temporarily. Just to give you guys some space," I suggest. Molly looks at me in gratitude, and then hopefully at our mother.

"Justin... are you sure?" she asks.

I nod slowly. "Yeah. But only for a little while. Maybe only a couple of weeks," I tell her.

"Go pack some of your things," Mom tells Molly, who is now smiling with relief. She gives each of us a hug.

"Thanks," she tells us, and goes upstairs.

"Justin..." Mom starts to say, but I stop her.

"Don't worry. All the same rules apply," I tell her, and she nods and gives me a hug.

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We get into my Jeep, and when I start the car, Molly immediately switches on the radio and starts searching for her favorite radio station.

"Turn it off," I tell her.

She looks at me questioningly, but does what I ask. "What? What's with the 'Mr. Serious' look?" she asks.

"I'm not fucking around, Mollusk. Don't think that just because you're staying with me for a little while that you're going to do whatever the fuck you feel like doing. All the rules are the same. And I swear to fucking God, if you go out of your way to break one single rule, I will drive you over to Dad's house myself," I tell her seriously.

She knows that I'm not kidding, and she nods her head in understanding.

"Don't make me regret this," I tell her. The rest of the car ride to my apartment is silent, both of us deep in thought. I really hope that I don't regret this.

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Brian's POV

Gus and I have just come back from the park, and he looks worn out. His cheeks are still rosy from all the running around and playing we did. It will be time for his nap soon. We're sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack, and I look over at my son and smile. He's such a good boy. Sometimes I just look at him and wonder what I would ever do without him. He brings such joy to my life.

He's drinking from a juice box I gave him and looking through a Winnie the Pooh picture book. Damn, I swear that he will never tire of that bear. I hear a knock on the loft door, and wonder who is there, since I'm not expecting any company.

"Be right back, Sonnyboy. I'm going to see who's at the door," I tell him. He nods his head and continues flipping through his book intently.

When I open the door, I'm surprised to see my father standing in front of me.

"Pop? What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Nice to see you too, Sonnyboy," he says sarcastically, and then gives me a smile. I smile back at him and then give him a hug.

"It's good to see you. Come on in," I tell him, moving aside to let him in.

"Gus, come see who's here," I call out. He turns around and sees my father standing there, and climbs out of his chair and runs over to him.

"Gampa!" he squeals happily, as he practically jumps into Jack's strong arms and holds him tightly. Jack hugs his grandson back, his eyes full of joy.

"I didn't know my favorite Grandson would be here today. It's my lucky day!" he tells Gus, kissing his cheek.

"You mean Claire's bratty little tyrants aren't your favorites?" I tease. Jack rolls his eyes and then smirks.

"You know that little shit, John, tried to steal $20 from my wallet last time I was over there?" Jack says.

"You're kidding," I say, with wide eyes.

Jack shakes his head at me. "Nope. Caught him red-handed," he says.

I shake my head in disbelief. Claire hasn't been able to control her kids ever since her divorce. I've offered to help her out a few times with her sons, but unfortunately, the two boys have adopted the homophobia and rudeness of their father, which makes them pretty unbearable to be around.

Gus yawns as he rests his head on Jack's shoulder, and I can see that his eyes are getting heavy.

"I think it's time for his N-A-P," I spell out. "He's had a busy day, and we just got back from the park. He's beat," I tell Jack.

"I'll put him down. Be right back," Jack whispered. Gus's heavy eyes were now completely closed, and Jack kisses him on the forehead and carries him into the spare bedroom. I walk into the living room and sit on the couch and wait for Jack to come back and join me.

"That kid is growing so fast," Jack says quietly, walking into the living room and taking a seat on the black leather La-Z-Boy chair, and sighing happily as he leans back into it. I laugh at that. He loves that chair. Every time he comes over here, he claims that chair as his, and anyone who dares to sit in that chair better move their behind, or else... I don't know, he may tickle you to death. Jack is really the most harmless person I know.

"Yeah, he is," I agree. I look at my father and know something something is bothering him. "So, what's wrong, Pop?" I ask him bluntly. He raises his eyebrows as he looks at me.

"You always were good about knowing when something wasn't quite right," he tells me with a smirk. I just look at him and wait for him to answer.

"Your Mother's drinking has gotten worse. It's so bad right now, that I actually threatened to leave her if she didn't get help," he says, sadly.

I swallow hard and nod in understanding. My mother, Joan, has been an alcoholic ever since I can remember. She's a manic depressive, which is what started her drinking all those years ago. She wasn't always bad, though. Sometimes she would be okay, but we never knew how long it would last because she was so up and down all the time.

Jack did his best to take care of us all. He worked two jobs to support us, and the times when Joan was too depressed or too drunk to get out of bed, he would cook our meals and get Claire and I off to school, which was a lot of the time.

Her drinking had slowed down some in the last few years, but just 6 months ago, my mother's sister, Vivian, died in a car accident. Mom's drinking has been way out of control ever since.

"Did you mean it? Are you really going to leave Mom?" I ask him.

I'm surprised by his threat because throughout all the years she drank, he's always stood by her, helping her; never giving up on her. Jack could usually always get her out of her serious ruts. It was those times where after he helped her, that things would be almost normal for our family, at least until the next time Joan had another spell.

"Honestly, I don't know. I've never left your mother. I know she needs me right now, it's just that she won't let me help her. Not this time. She's so depressed and angry. I've never seen her like this. I thought that maybe threatening to leave her would give her an incentive to go to rehab. I don't know if I could ever leave her, though. I love her. After all these years, I still love her so, so, much," Jack tells me in a quivering voice that says he's close to tears. That is unnerving to me, because I can count on one hand how many times I've seen Jack cry.

"I know, Pop. But you can't back down. If you do, she might not get help. If you need to, pack a bag and stay in the guest room here for a little while, if only to just get away from the stress," I tell him.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly intrude on you. I've already talked to your Uncle Frank. He's got plenty of room for me. Thanks for the offer, though," he gives me a weak smile.

He looks like he wants to get out of here. I know he doesn't like to appear weak in front of anyone, especially his kids. "Well, I just wanted to let you know what was going on," he says, standing up. I walk him to the door.

"Pop, everything will work out. It always does," I tell him, and then give him a hug. He looks at me and gives a small smile.

"You're a good boy, Brian. You always were," Jack says, and pats my shoulder.

"I had to learn it from somewhere," I tell him, and he gives me a grateful smile and leaves.

I walk over to my sofa and sit down, taking the time to reflect on the day. Today has been unusual, that's for sure. Thinking of the day's earlier events, makes me flash on Justin's smile, this morning. I can't believe I talked him into giving our friendship a chance. That's not something I would normally do with a trick. That is what he was. At least at first. We saw each other at Babylon. I wanted him, and he wanted me. We fucked. Then I heard myself ask him to stay the night. I don't know why it happened. I was holding him, and it just felt so good. I didn't want him to leave. And he stayed. He let me hold him, and then he stayed. That has to mean something.

Justin intrigues me. There is so much about him that I'm curious about. He is interesting, and I find myself just wanting to pick his brain to see what makes him tick. Oh, Justin Taylor, what you do to me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justin's POV

Molly and I have just finished eating some pizza for dinner, and I'm really feeling like I need to get out of here. I have been kind of quiet with her since we got back to my apartment. I'm not mad at her, and I know that's probably what she thinks.

I remember what it was like to be a teenager. I know how tough it is to deal with nosy parents, and hormones, and the pressure of needing to be accepted and liked by other kids from school. The need to belong. To want to experiment with everything. Hey, I did. Drugs, alcohol, sex; I tried it all. But I didn't let it take over my life. I was smart enough to know that if I went down the wrong road, that I could end up in big trouble. I already knew kids who made those mistakes and hadn't wanted to end up like them.

I feel a headache coming on, and the urge to go out and unwind is REALLY getting to me now.

"Hey Moll, do you have any homework you need to work on?" I ask her.

She looks at me and nods. "Yeah, just a little," she tells me.

"Do you need any help?" I ask her.

"No, it's just reading. I only have a chapter left," she tells me quietly.

"Do you think you could handle being here alone for an hour or two?" I ask her.

She looks at me and smiles. "You'd trust me?" she asks hopefully.

"Can you promise me that I have nothing to worry about?" I ask her.

She nods. "I promise. I want you to trust me. I don't want you to think I can't handle being alone for whatever reason. I'm really going to try to be good while I'm here, Jus," she tells me.

I look at her and can't help but smile, because for the first time in ages, right now, she looks like my little sister again. She's wearing a pair of sweats and an over sized T-shirt, and her honey-blond hair is thrown in a ponytail. She has no makeup on. She just looks like Molly. The little annoying angel who used to follow me all around all the time and would bug me with her knock-knock jokes.

I walk over to her and give her a hug, letting her know that I'm not mad at her. She hugs me back, and I'm a little surprised at how tight she's squeezing me.

"I'm sorry, Jus," she whispers.

"I'm not the one who you should be apologizing to, Mollusk," I tell her softly.

"I know. I just get so pissed at Mom, sometimes. I don't know why I do the things I do," she admits.

I smile at her. "I do. You're a teenager, that's why. They are all crazy, you know," I say. She laughs, and shoves me playfully.

"Whatever," she answers. She leaves to go into her new room, to do her homework.

I sigh, and take out my wallet, looking for a certain business card. I find it in front of all the other cards, and take it out and stare at it. Brian Kinney. To call? Or not to call... that is the question.

Fuck it.

I grab my cell phone, and dial the number on the card. One ring... two rings...

"Why, hello, friend. Miss me already?" a sexy voice answers. I frown.

"How did you know it was me?" I ask.

"Because you called my cell phone number, and I have caller ID on it, and you're the only Justin Taylor I know," he says.

"Oh." I can hear him smirk.

"So, what's up?" he asks.

"Actually, I was calling because I really just needed to get out of my apartment for a little while, and wondered if you'd be interested in meeting me at Woody's for a drink?" I ask. I'm nervous as hell, but doing my best to sound nonchalant. I'm not used to this sort of thing.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Are you okay? You sound a little stressed," he asks. I can hear the concern in his voice and I smile.

"Yeah. It's just some family stuff," I tell him.

Do'h! Why did I do that? Again! I could have gone without mentioning I had a family problem. Oh well. He said he wanted to be friends. Friends share their problems with each other. Maybe it will make me feel better to tell someone.

"All right. I'll meet you there in twenty minutes?"

"Yeah, sounds about right," I tell him.

"Okay, later," he says.

"Later," I tell him, and hang up. I grab my coat, and then knock on the slightly ajar door of the bedroom Molly is staying in.

"Hey, Molly, I'm going out to Woody's for a bit. I have my cell if you need anything, okay?" I tell her.

She smiles at me. "All right. I'm just going to read this chapter and then watch some TV or something," she says.

"Remember, lights out by 11:00," I remind her.

"Yeah, yeah," Molly says, rolling her eyes, but then smiles at me.

"I've got this place under surveillance, just in case. There's little cameras planted everywhere in the apartment. So, I'd be good, if I were you," I say.

She just giggles as I close the door. "Bye," she calls out.

I start the engine in my Jeep and head out to Woody's. Well, Justin, here goes nothing.