fic: you come beating like moth's wings (part three)
you come beating like moth's wings (part three)
ryan lochte/michael phelps
pg13, 25183 words
just general warnings for curse words and one use of the word 'faggot'
The disappointment of not being able to adopt Conor still weighs heavily on their shoulders days after their meeting with Jane, but they push through and force smiles on their faces when they catch Conor looking at them weirdly. Eventually the disappointment fades away into a small pang of want every time Conor mentions his family, but by the end of the week they’re no longer forcing smiles and Conor isn’t looking at them strangely anymore.
It’s what’s best for Conor they tell themselves, even though Michael doesn’t understand how sending him back to a homophobic dad who won’t even teach his kid how to swim is what’s best, but Michael isn’t a social worker and he’s not the person who decides these things so he just repeats it’s what’s best when he thinks about the day Conor came home crying after his first supervised visit with his parents.
Michael didn’t stick around long enough for Jane to hand him her associate’s business card but apparently she slipped Ryan one. Near the middle of April he tapes it to Michael’s computer screen and leaves a post it note next to it. Maybe? It reads.
Ryan’s never made it a secret that he wants kids. He rarely brings it up because Ryan’s a good person; he doesn’t bring it up because he knows that’s not exactly what Michael wants. Michael kids, he does, but before Conor came into their lives the thought of being a father in any shape or form made Michael nervous. Whenever anyone would bring the subject up Michael would shut them down or change the subject as politely as he could.
Fostering had been Ryan’s idea; fostering was supposed to be Ryan’s way of having a kid without Michael actually having to be a real dad. We’re giving back, Ryan had whined almost like a kid begging for a treat Mike we’re giving a kid who’s in a shitty situation a place to live. They’re not our kid but we’re helping them and Michael had felt so guilty for so long denying Ryan the only thing he seemed to really need to make his life complete that he had agreed. Michael was supposed to be the responsible, we-will-not-get-too-attached, foster parent, but Conor had inadvertently wiggled his way past all of Michael’s defenses and without knowing it, or knowing exactly why, Michael had fallen in love with Conor the same way he had fallen in love with Ryan: he hadn’t had to think about it. Somewhere between Conor becoming their responsibility and New Year’s Eve Michael had fallen in love with him. Trying to imagine life without Conor was impossible; it left him feeling sick and hollow the same way it did when Michael thought about his life without Ryan.
Maybe? Michael reads and he knows it isn’t Ryan’s way of sweeping Conor out of their lives but a plea for Michael to think about having a kid of their own, even if that kid isn’t Conor.
The hurt of being denied Conor still stings and Michael rips the card off the screen and shoves it into his desk drawer, the drawer banging shut when he closes it. It’s loud enough that he knows Ryan can hear it in the living room. Immediately Michael feels guilty.
It doesn’t take long for Ryan to appear in the doorway. Thankfully Conor’s at Ricky’s seventh birthday party and won’t be attracted to the commotion in the office.
“I want kids Mike,” Ryan says, as simple as that. He leans against the doorframe and his posture screams that he’s not going to give in, not easily.
“They wouldn’t even give us one Ryan,” Michael replies and busies himself with playing with the handle to the drawer he angrily shoved the adoption agent’s card in.
Ryan sighs and collapses into the chair next to the window. His shoulders slump and he leans forward to place his head in his hands. “I know,” he says sharply and then lifts his head. He looks guilty and then moves from the chair by the window to stand by the desk. Michael swivels his chair and Ryan leans forward until his head can rest on Michael’s shoulder.
“Just think about it,” he whispers. “Please Mike, just think about it.”
“Fuck Ry,” Michael says and reaches out to place his hands on Ryan’s hips. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling Ryan’s familiar cologne. “I can’t think about it right now,” he feels Ryan stiffen “but when Conor leaves let’s do it, okay?”
Ryan lifts his head so that they’re eye level. “You’re not fucking with me? You mean it.”
“Yeah,” Michael replies and gives a little smile. He kisses Ryan quickly. “Just let’s wait until we get things figured out with Conor.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything for a long time. Michael can’t read his face and he can’t tell if Ryan’s excited or if Ryan even believes him. He’s about to ask Ryan to say something but suddenly Ryan surges forward and locks their lips together in a brutal kiss.
It takes Michael by surprise and they end up knocking their teeth together before they get the hang of it. Ryan kisses him until Michael is breathless and they only pull apart when Ryan’s neck starts to protest. “I fucking love you,” Ryan says, all breath.
“Love you too,” Michael says, breathless.
By the beginning of May Summer Madness starts to kick in - or that’s at least what Michael’s mom calls it, even though summer doesn’t technically start for another month. “They just know Michael,” Debbie says over the phone. “They get this itch that tells them summer is just around the corner. You used to get it too.” Michael always thought the itch was his ADHD, not ‘Summer Madness’.
It starts to get way warmer and instead of being content with drawing in the art room or watching TV or going to the pool for swim lessons Conor starts to want to play outside way more than usual. They’re backyard is decent size seeing as they live in a townhouse, but there isn’t much room for Conor to run around, especially not with two dogs always hot on his heels.
Instead they make it a point to go to the park almost every other day as long as Conor gets his homework done and Ryan promises not to do anything stupid like try to grind a rail on his skateboard.
“MP man,” Ryan whines when Michael glares him out of bringing a skateboard with them on their first go, “you’re sucking away all the fun.”
“It’s not going to be much fun when we’re in the ER because you fucked up your ankle, again.”
Ryan doesn’t take the skateboard with him but that doesn’t stop him from borrowing a skateboard when they get to the park. He manages to grind a rail perfectly and Conor looks like he’s about to ask for a go but then Ryan wipes out and Conor knows better to even think about getting on the skateboard.
They don’t go to the ER but Ryan does spend the rest of the night lying on the couch, his foot propped up on a pillow and a bag of ice on his ankle. Michael doesn’t say I told you but he does ignore Ryan’s pathetic whines when he can’t quite reach the remote.
In the second week of May they’re hit with a sudden cold front and Conor catches a cold. He spends the first day with his cold absolutely miserable in bed cuddling with Sydney. On the second day he manages to make it downstairs and cuddles up with Carter and Herman and on the third day he snags Michael as his cuddle partner.
Ryan’s taken up bartending a couple nights a week down at the local bar and even though it’s midday he’s at the bar covering a shift for a friend. It’s been quiet all afternoon with Conor practically sleeping all day and only being disturbed for bathroom and food breaks, but his temperature’s been going up and down constantly and Michael’s starting to get worried.
He calls his mom first because she’s the only logical person to call in these sorts of situations. “Take his temperature again,” Debbie says, “and if it’s still high take him to the emergency room.”
Conor doesn’t like having his temperature taken, or at least not while he’s slobbering away on a throw pillow.
“Just open your mouth and I’ll hold the thermometer in place,” Michael tries to reason and Conor just grossly sniffs and says, “Dad I don’t want to.”
Michael drops the thermometer in surprise. “What?”
Conor’s eyes are red and glossy from fever and he coughs before he buries himself back under a blanket. “I don’t wanna,” he manages to say.
He must be delusional from the fever. He has to be delusional because no training session prepared Michael for this. Conor just called him dad and Michael’s starting to have a silent freak out which isn’t helping the situation at all.
“I need to take your temperature,” Michael says again and picks up the thermometer with shaky fingers. He wipes it clean on his shirt and then pulls back the blanket to get to Conor. Conor whines but Michael manages to get the thermometer back in his mouth. It reads 101 and Michael makes the decision to take Conor to the ER.
On the way it pops into Michael’s head that it might actually be a good idea to call Ryan, to, you know, inform his husband that their foster child might be dying from pneumonia or something. The first thing that pops out of Michael’s mouth when Ryan answers is, “Conor just called me ‘dad’ and I think he might be dying.”
“Mike,” Conor whines from the back, totally oblivious to what’s going on, “I don’t feel good.”
Ryan is silent on the other end and then he says, “What?”
“He called me dad Ryan,” Michael says in a whisper and then has to repeat it louder because the speaker phone can’t quite catch what he’s saying. “And I’m taking him to the ER.”
“Shit,” Ryan says and doesn’t comment on the dad thing, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
It turns out that seven-year-olds with high fevers get admitted to the hospital faster than a thirty-two-year-old with a broken ankle. A doctor sees them right away and then has Conor admitted when his temperature comes back at 102. They run some tests and deduct that it’s not pneumonia that’s causing Conor’s high fever, thank god, but dehydration.
Ryan shows up soon after, hat askew and out of breath. The doctor gives him a pat on the back and tells them not to worry; once Conor’s stabilized he’ll able to go home and will be back to normal within a few days.
After she leaves they both collapse in chairs next to Conor’s bed. Conor’s wide awake and more alert now and is busy playing a game on Michael’s iPhone. By the sounds of it he’s losing horribly.
“He called you ‘dad’?” Ryan whispers into Michael’s ear once Conor starts to say some very mean things to the cell phone. They should tell Conor not to talk like that but Michael’s too busy continuing his silent freak out from earlier.
Michael shakily nods. He leans in closer to Ryan and says, “I think he was delusional from the fever.”
Conor looks at them, suspicious, and Ryan smiles before he reaches over and shows Conor a new way to beat the game. Conor’s attention immediately slips away from them. “What exactly did he say?”
“I was trying to take his temperature and he wouldn’t let me and he said, ‘Dad I don’t want to’ and then I dropped the thermometer.”
“Did you wipe it off?” Ryan asks. Michael raises his eyebrows in bewilderment because there are more pressing matters than if he wiped the thermometer off or not. “Yes!” He says, louder than he means to, but Conor doesn’t tear his eyes away from the phone.
Ryan chews on his bottom lip. He looks like he’s contemplating something deep, which usually means trouble for everyone involved. “I don’t think he was delusional, Mike.”
Michael waits for an explanation. Ryan manages to push both of their chairs back a little further from the bed and leans towards Michael. “He calls his dad ‘daddy’, remember?”
It kind of hits Michael like a bag of bricks. Conor has never referred to his parents by anything other than ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’, never. “Oh my god,” he says, “oh my god.”
“What?” Conor asks and drops Michael’s phone on to the tray in front of him. Earlier a kind nurse had given him some crackers and jelly to keep his appetite down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ryan replies but Conor doesn’t let it go. He might be seven but he isn’t stupid. “Something’s wrong,” he says. “You’re whispering and you only whisper when you’re keeping a secret! You said no secret keeping.”
Michael silently curses. It had been a rule established in one of Conor’s early therapy sessions; they wouldn’t keep secrets from Conor - which was a total lie - and Conor wouldn’t keep secrets from them. And now it’s coming back to bite them in the ass.
“We’re not keeping any secrets,” Michael says but Conor doesn’t look like he believes them.
“You are,” he whines and crosses his arms against his chest. “You are and it isn’t fair!”
He looks like he’s about to start crying and Michael feels guilty. He looks to Ryan for help and Ryan licks his lips before he stands and sits on the side of Conor’s hospital bed.
“We’re not keeping any secrets from you bud,” he says and Conor sniffles. He refuses to look at Ryan.
“We’re just super worried about you,” Ryan says and moves his head so Conor has to look at him.
“You’re not keeping a secret from me?” Conor asks tentatively. Ryan shakes his head. “Course not," he says. “That’s like totally not jeah, jeah?”
“Jeah!” Conor says and then goes back to playing the game on Michael’s iPhone. Michael sits in his chair and stares up at the ceiling repeating the word dad in Conor’s voice over and over again in his head. That pang of disappointment is back and this time it feels like it’s clawing at Michael’s heart.
Conor gets released from the hospital later that night. He gets to stay home for the next two days and misses a whole week of school, but Nathan comes over with his homework that weekend and a get well soon card from the entire class.
There are no more incidents with Conor calling Michael dad but there’s a soft pang of something every time Conor calls him Mike.
Spring gives way to summer easily. The first couple of weeks are spent lazing around by the pool and then somehow, because Ryan and Mike don’t really have jobs except to host some clinics here and there and to show up to fundraisers, the Phelps-Lochte house becomes a daycare.
Michael wants to be bothered by the fact that he’ll spend his entire summer babysitting, but he isn’t. Ricky has older siblings who would rather be out hanging with their friends than babysitting their little brother and it’s not like it’s a big deal to have an extra kid running around the house. Cecilia’s a stay-at-home mom but it doesn’t seem fair to keep Nathan away from Conor and it’s just much easier for her to drop Nathan off at their place instead of them taking both Conor and Ricky over to hers. And despite the fact that Matt is old enough to stay at home for a couple of hours by himself each day it just doesn’t seem right to have everyone over but Matt. Matt only comes over rarely because he’s going into sixth grade next year and the others will only be going into second.
It feels nice to have their house so full of life. None of the kids cause them any problems and they spend most of the day in the backyard with Herman and Carter or at the park with Ryan when Michael has to go to some event downtown.
Having their house full of kids also brings up emotions Michael doesn’t want to deal with. Watching Ryan run around the park with the kids, especially Conor, reminds Michael that the end is getting near - in two days Conor has an unsupervised visit with his parents and this time his brother too, a clear sign that things aren’t going in Michael and Ryan’s favor - and it also makes Michael think of the task ahead of them. He said yes to adopting a kid with Ryan and that thought makes him feel bitter. Not bitter because he said yes, but bitter over the fact that they wouldn’t need to go through the whole year-and-something long process if they were just allowed Conor. But being bitter doesn’t make Conor theirs, and being bitter just stains the whole process of getting their own kid.
Conor goes to his visit with his parents on Tuesday and his therapy session as well and when he leaves their house he’s excited and happy to see Patrick but when Michael and Ryan pick him up from Jane’s office his cheeks are red in anger and he refuses to speak to them.
Jane isn’t allowed to give them many details on how it went other than the whole meeting went smoothly. Things seemed to have taken a turn for the worse after his therapy session and Dr. Stevens refuses to give up any information that could be helpful. It pisses Michael off. They can’t fix the problem if they don’t know what the problem is.
Conor calms down and begins to speak to them once they get home, but he seems guarded. They aren’t allowed to ask specific questions about his parents or the day but even the small ‘did you have fun?’ questions are answered with a shrug. It worries Michael and then pisses him off all at the same time.
Ryan doesn’t seem as worried. “Maybe he’s just having a bad day,” he says with a shrug. Michael wants to be pissed off that Ryan doesn’t seem as worried as he is by Conor’s behavior but he’s learnt that being pissed off at Ryan doesn’t do anything but make them fight, so he lets it go.
Something changes in Conor that day that they can’t ignore.
Conor goes back to the shy boy he used to be the first couple of weeks he lived with them. No matter how slyly they ask what’s going or what’s wrong he just tells them nothing. He even begins to distant himself from Carter and Herman and that’s when Ryan starts to worry.
“Don’t you like Carter anymore?” He asks one night when Conor ignores Carter when the Doberman tries to get him to play ball. Carter is whimpering miserably and Ryan is babying him like usual.
Conor looks at Ryan and then looks to Carter and says, “I just don’t want to play with him.” His voice is whiney, but somehow still sharp and mean. Ryan looks hurt for Carter and then promptly decides to take Carter out for a walk.
They don’t press for Conor to play with the dogs but Michael breaks and calls Dr. Stevens one morning when he finds Sydney outside of Conor’s room, Conor’s door shut in her face. Conor loves Sydney, even more than he seems to love Carter and Herman, and he’s never kicked her out of his room before.
Sydney meows at the door and then wraps herself around Michael’s legs. Maybe Sydney left to eat or use the bathroom and Conor shut his door thinking she was already inside and simply just forgot to look for her. Michael checks on Conor and finds him asleep so he sets Sydney down on her usual spot near his feet and leaves to call the psychologist.
“He probably did it by accident,” the doctor says and doesn’t sound too concerned.
“But he’s never done it before,” Michael says and tries to emphasis his point as best as he can without sounding like a complete asshole. Dr. Stevens just tells him not to worry and he’ll talk to Conor about it next week.
It happens again the next morning and Michael knows that Conor’s doing it on purpose now.
“Is Sydney bothering you when you sleep?” Michael asks at breakfast that morning. Conor seems happier than usual but his face falls and he pushes away his bowl of cereal. “I don’t want her in my room anymore.”
From them on Sydney sleeps in the master bedroom. For the first two nights she’s meows and paces and claws at the door trying to get out but after a while she realizes that Conor doesn’t want her anymore and hides under their bed with Herman’s shoe collection.
What breaks the camel’s back is Nathan.
Ricky is away on vacation with his family and Matt is at swim practice so the only kid who comes over is Nathan. Conor is excited to just hang out with Nathan and Michael and Ryan leave them to play in the art studio.
They’re in the living room playing Madden when they hear a bump from upstairs and then a series of yells. Michael is immediately terrified that they’ve messed with the giant paper cutter and someone has lost a limb, even though it’s kept at the very top of the closet. It only takes a matter of seconds for both of them to drop their controllers and race upstairs.
Michael opens the door expecting to see blood and a severed limb but instead he finds Nathan on the floor crying and Conor standing over him crying as well as he screams, “I don’t want to be your friend Nathan!”
“What happened?!” Michael asks when he glances around the room and sees the lack of blood on the walls. Ryan is already by Nathan’s side helping him up as Nathan clings to him and he babbles something to Ryan that Michael can’t quite make out.
“Conor,” Michael hisses and places his hand on Conor’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Conor sucks in a breath through his tears before he pushes Michael away from him and runs down the hall. His door slams shut and then opens this time, Conor’s voice at a near scream, “Sydney get out! Get out!” Sydney yowls and then Conor’s door slams shut again.
“I’ll take care of Conor,” Ryan says and hands Nathan over. Michael takes Nathan into his arms and heads downstairs as Ryan heads into Conor’s room.
Nathan has calmed down a little and Michael sets him on the kitchen counter. He wipes at Nathan’s tears and asks, “What happened?”
Nathan sniffles. “We were coloring and I told Conor how cool it would be if we were in the same class next year and then he got really angry and pushed me over and told me he didn’t want to be my friend anymore and when I kept asking him why he kept saying I was stupid and he didn’t want to be my friend.” He sucks in a breath and continues, “And he said that Matt didn’t want to be my friend either and Ricky too.”
Michael sighs and runs his hand over his face. “Conor’s been in a bad mood recently he didn’t mean it. You’re not stupid and of course Ricky and Matt want to be your friend, and Conor too.”
Nathan just starts to cry again. Michael calls Cecilia and she comes over right away to pick her son up.
“I’m sorry,” Michael tells her as they’re leaving. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with him lately.”
“It’s alright,” Cecilia says because she might be the most calm and understanding woman Michael has ever met. “Things must be hard for him.”
Michael heads upstairs. Conor’s door is shut firmly and he finds Ryan in the art room, putting away markers and crayons. He slumps against the doorway and waits for Ryan to notice him.
“He wouldn’t talk to me,” Ryan says and looks over his shoulder at Sydney who’s nudged her way under the desk. “He kept saying I wasn’t his dad and he didn’t have to talk to me.”
Michael feels like he’s been punched in the gut. They’re not Conor’s parents but after the whole ‘dad’ incident there had been something in the air - something akin to jealousy.
Ryan had never come out right and said that he was jealous that Conor had called Michael ‘dad’ but Michael knows it must have hurt not to ever hear Conor call him that, even on accident.
Michael sits down on the floor and Ryan slumps against him. Sydney comes out of her hiding spot and curls herself up in Ryan’s lap. “Something’s wrong with him MP,” Ryan mumbles.
“I know,” is all Michael can reply.
Conor doesn’t come out of his bedroom for the rest of the night, even when it’s dinner time. They force him out of his room for breakfast but Conor just eats silently and glares at them and when he’s done he disappears back into his room.
Michael has to make the phone call to Ricky’s mom to tell her that they won’t be able to babysit anymore and Ryan leaves a voicemail on Cecilia’s phone to tell her that it’s probably not a good idea for Nathan to come over anymore.
Conor’s behavior only gets worse after that. He starts to throw tantrums when he’s asked to do the littlest things that never seemed to bother him before. He gets upset with Herman and Carter when they try to initiate play. He starts to say means things to them and even though he never utters the word he promised never to say Michael has a feeling that it’s hanging on the tip of his tongue.
Every time they try to reason with Conor or punish him he informs them that they aren’t his parents and it leaves the both of them stunned and upset. They try to talk to Jane about what they’re supposed to do with this new turn of events and she even tries talking to Conor but Conor calls her ugly and slams his door in her face.
They try to take him to see Dr. Stevens on a weekly basis but Conor either throws a tantrum and refuses to get in the car or he refuses to speak when they get to the office.
Living in their house becomes hell, Michael and Ryan tip-toeing around Conor and trying to keep the animals from going anywhere near him, and then one day Ryan just snaps. Michael’s expecting it to be him to lose his cool first but one day Conor just pushes Ryan’s buttons enough that Ryan just breaks.
“Stop it!” He shouts when Conor’s throwing a tantrum over having to go to bed. “Conor stop it!”
“You’re not my -” Conor begins between sobs and Ryan cuts him off before he can finish.
“I fucking know I’m not your dad, okay?!” Ryan’s face is flushed red and his eyes wide. It’s the angriest Michael has ever seen him. “It fucking sucks that I’m not your dad but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to me!”
Conor is standing in shocked silence and Michael is looking between them, not sure if he should say anything or not.
Ryan rubs at his face and sucks in a deep breath. “What’s wrong Conor?” He asks, quieter, defeated.
Conor looks around and then begins to cry. “You’re not my parents.”
Michael balls his hands into fists because they’re getting nowhere and he’s starting to lose his patience as well. Conor begins to cry harder. “You’re not my parents,” he says and then begins to repeat it.
Ryan puts his face in his hands and collapses into a chair. “Conor,” he says but Conor cries louder.
“No!” the seven-year-old nearly screams. “No! No! You’re not my parents!”
“Conor,” Michael says. “We know that.”
Conor looks at him and then he stomps his foot, frustrated. He goes over to Ryan and then climbs onto his lap, Ryan doing nothing to stop him. “You’re not my parents,” Conor whispers between sobs, and then something clicks in Michael’s head.
“You’re not my parents,” Conor says and Michael finally gets it. Conor isn’t saying it to be a little shit, he isn’t saying it to get his way - he’s saying it because it’s fucking true and it’s killing him as much as it’s killing them.
Ryan looks like he’s about to cry. He pulls Conor as close to his body as he possibly can and buries his face in Conor’s hair, eyes closed.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan says into Conor’s hair. Conor does a full body shiver and then slumps in Ryan’s arms, like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He whispers something to Ryan and Ryan nods and kisses the side of Conor’s head like he’s accepting an apology.
Michael hangs back. There’s no room for him on the chair next to Ryan and Conor doesn’t seem like he’s going to move anytime soon. Ryan lifts his head and looks up at Michael before extending his hand. Michael takes it.
He stands next to Ryan and then leans down until he can scoop Conor off of Ryan’s lap and into his arms. Conor clings to Michael’s neck and says, “I’m sorry Mike.”
“It’s okay,” Michael says and feels like for the first time in days that it really is.
Conor’s behavior doesn’t adjust right away but over the course of a week he goes back to being the sweet kid that he’s used to be. He hugs Herman and Carter and apologizes to them and spends a long time just talking to Sydney and telling her that he’s sorry. They all forgive Conor instantly because animals are amazing like that - they never hold grudges.
He talks to Nathan over the phone and apologizes, and the Phelps-Lochtes start up their ‘daycare’ service once more. When Nathan comes over for the first time in weeks they hug it out and then go back to being the best of friends and even though Ricky has a new babysitter he comes over on the weekends and whenever his babysitter can’t watch him.
On the last Saturday of summer they host a barbeque. Michael’s mom and sisters show up and all of Conor’s friends and their parents and Cullen flies in from New York. The house is packed full of people and amazingly Cullen and Ryan only have one we-almost-set-the-house-on-fire fiasco.
After everyone has left Michael, Ryan, and Cullen sit on the deck nursing beers, Conor passed out on Michael’s chest.
Cullen is grinning one of his shit-eating grins as he takes a sip of his beer and Michael nudges him with his foot. “Out with it,” he says because he knows Cullen has some sort of comment.
“What?” Cullen asks, faking innocence.
Michael rolls his eyes. Cullen laughs. “Man,” he says, “never thought I’d see the great Michael Phelps with a kid.”
Michael flushes. “Yeah, well,” he says, “he’s not ours.”
The mood suddenly gets somber. Ryan’s been on the phone to his best friend a lot more than usual recently and Michael knows why. Ryan and Cullen are close and whenever Ryan has to do correspondent gigs in New York he always hits his boy up, but it’s rare that Cullen ever comes to visit them. It’s not because Cullen doesn’t want to, or they don’t want Cullen to, it’s just Ryan and Cullen have a friendship where they don’t have to see each other frequently to know that they’re still tight. And Cullen visits when it counts; he was there for their wedding and was there through the whole coming out fiasco and Michael’s pretty sure if they do ever end up having a baby he’ll be there for the birth.
And he’s here now because Ryan needs him.
“When are they going to make you give him up?” Cullen asks and sets his beer down on the glass table. He leans forward, suddenly serious.
“We don’t know,” Ryan says and runs a hand through his hair. His curls haven’t come back yet but his hair is longer than it’s been in a long time. “Shit Cullen, he doesn’t want to go back.”
Cullen nods because Michael’s sure Ryan’s informed him about the weeks of hell they’ve been through and Conor’s confession at the end of it all. Cullen looks like he doesn’t know what to say and that’s okay because neither of them know what to say either.
Cullen doesn’t fly home right away. Instead he sticks around for two weeks and soon becomes Conor’s favorite person. He nicknames Cullen Big C and insists that Cullen walk him to the bus stop the first day of school. They bond quickly and when Cullen has to leave to return to New York Conor refuses to let go of him in the airport.
The first month of school goes by quickly. Nathan and Conor aren’t in the same class but they do have recess together and a combined music class along with Ricky. Matt is across the street in the brand new middle school and it leaves all them depressed not to see his familiar face on the playground.
For a long time things are easy. Conor goes to therapy and talks to his brother over the phone and sometimes his parents and they don’t hear anything from Jane about when the Dwyer’s are going to get custody back.
For Halloween Conor dresses up as an alien cowboy and they take him to his first ever amusement park in Virginia for Halloween Haunt. They spend all day riding roller coasters and eating junk food and at night Conor spends most of the time clutching their hands and trying to put on a brave face as they go through the haunted mazes and encounter monsters hanging around the rides.
During Thanksgiving break they fly down to Florida to spend the holiday with Ryan’s family. They all crowd around the large table in Ike’s tiny kitchen and eat until they burst and then at night Conor joins Ryan’s nephews and nieces in running around to catch fireflies. Right before they leave Steven takes Conor to the local pool to give him a private lesson and when they return Steven looks at the both of them serious and says, “With a little more practice he could be as good as you two one day.”
It makes Michael proud but the moment doesn’t last long. He doubts Patrick Dwyer Sr. will continue to teach his soon how to swim or even take him to a pool.
When they get back to Baltimore they eat ice cream straight out of the tub to celebrity the one-year anniversary of Conor living with them. It’s a bittersweet night but they don’t let it get to them.
It all goes crashing down the first week of December.
They’re just leaving the mall after buying early Christmas presents and a birthday present for Nathan when Michael gets the call.
Jane is usually happy and perky over the phone but this time her voice is somber as she says, “Conor has his last visit with his parents on the 15th.”
Michael doesn’t reply. In front of him Conor and Ryan are holding hands and skipping towards where they parked their car.
“Michael?” Jane asks and Michael finally replies with a grunt.
Jane sighs. “I know this is hard,” she says and Michael rolls his eyes, “but this really the best for him.”
“Yeah,” Michael says even though he doesn’t really believe that it is. He says goodbye to Jane and then climbs into the car, this time letting Ryan drive them home. Ryan can sense that’s something wrong but Michael doesn’t tell him about the last visit until Conor’s preoccupied in the living room wrapping presents with Herman.
Ryan just leans back on the island after receiving the news and tips his head back. “Fuck,” he says. “Already?”
“She said it would be between a few months and a year,” Michael replies and comes to stand in front of Ryan. He places his hands on Ryan’s waist and brings their hips together. “We knew it was going to happen someday.”
“I know.” Ryan doesn’t look convinced, or happy.
They stand like that until Conor comes into the kitchen asking for food. He raises his eyebrows at them and then wiggles his way between them. “Not fair,” he says and only relents when Ryan picks him up and gives him a bear hug.
Breaking the news to Conor ends up being the hardest thing Michael thinks he’s ever had to do, even harder than winning eight gold medals in nine days. Conor doesn’t seem to understand what the big deal is about having the last visit with his parents and he only gets it after Ryan explains that it means Conor can’t stay with them anymore.
Conor’s face immediately drops. “No,” he says and shakes his head. “I don’t want to live with them!”
“I know,” Michael says and has to grip the edge of the island to keep himself together. “But you have to.”
Conor begins to cry. He’s not having a fit or throwing a tantrum, just crying big fat tears. “I don’t wanna,” he says again and Ryan ruffles his hair. “I know,” the older man says, “we don’t want you to either.”
“Can’t you ask Miss Jane?” Conor pleads. “She’ll say I can stay here!”
Michael closes his eyes and reopens them. “We asked her already. She said no.”
Conor starts to shake. He climbs across the island and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck and just holds on.
part one part two part four AO3
ryan lochte/michael phelps
pg13, 25183 words
just general warnings for curse words and one use of the word 'faggot'
The disappointment of not being able to adopt Conor still weighs heavily on their shoulders days after their meeting with Jane, but they push through and force smiles on their faces when they catch Conor looking at them weirdly. Eventually the disappointment fades away into a small pang of want every time Conor mentions his family, but by the end of the week they’re no longer forcing smiles and Conor isn’t looking at them strangely anymore.
It’s what’s best for Conor they tell themselves, even though Michael doesn’t understand how sending him back to a homophobic dad who won’t even teach his kid how to swim is what’s best, but Michael isn’t a social worker and he’s not the person who decides these things so he just repeats it’s what’s best when he thinks about the day Conor came home crying after his first supervised visit with his parents.
Michael didn’t stick around long enough for Jane to hand him her associate’s business card but apparently she slipped Ryan one. Near the middle of April he tapes it to Michael’s computer screen and leaves a post it note next to it. Maybe? It reads.
Ryan’s never made it a secret that he wants kids. He rarely brings it up because Ryan’s a good person; he doesn’t bring it up because he knows that’s not exactly what Michael wants. Michael kids, he does, but before Conor came into their lives the thought of being a father in any shape or form made Michael nervous. Whenever anyone would bring the subject up Michael would shut them down or change the subject as politely as he could.
Fostering had been Ryan’s idea; fostering was supposed to be Ryan’s way of having a kid without Michael actually having to be a real dad. We’re giving back, Ryan had whined almost like a kid begging for a treat Mike we’re giving a kid who’s in a shitty situation a place to live. They’re not our kid but we’re helping them and Michael had felt so guilty for so long denying Ryan the only thing he seemed to really need to make his life complete that he had agreed. Michael was supposed to be the responsible, we-will-not-get-too-attached, foster parent, but Conor had inadvertently wiggled his way past all of Michael’s defenses and without knowing it, or knowing exactly why, Michael had fallen in love with Conor the same way he had fallen in love with Ryan: he hadn’t had to think about it. Somewhere between Conor becoming their responsibility and New Year’s Eve Michael had fallen in love with him. Trying to imagine life without Conor was impossible; it left him feeling sick and hollow the same way it did when Michael thought about his life without Ryan.
Maybe? Michael reads and he knows it isn’t Ryan’s way of sweeping Conor out of their lives but a plea for Michael to think about having a kid of their own, even if that kid isn’t Conor.
The hurt of being denied Conor still stings and Michael rips the card off the screen and shoves it into his desk drawer, the drawer banging shut when he closes it. It’s loud enough that he knows Ryan can hear it in the living room. Immediately Michael feels guilty.
It doesn’t take long for Ryan to appear in the doorway. Thankfully Conor’s at Ricky’s seventh birthday party and won’t be attracted to the commotion in the office.
“I want kids Mike,” Ryan says, as simple as that. He leans against the doorframe and his posture screams that he’s not going to give in, not easily.
“They wouldn’t even give us one Ryan,” Michael replies and busies himself with playing with the handle to the drawer he angrily shoved the adoption agent’s card in.
Ryan sighs and collapses into the chair next to the window. His shoulders slump and he leans forward to place his head in his hands. “I know,” he says sharply and then lifts his head. He looks guilty and then moves from the chair by the window to stand by the desk. Michael swivels his chair and Ryan leans forward until his head can rest on Michael’s shoulder.
“Just think about it,” he whispers. “Please Mike, just think about it.”
“Fuck Ry,” Michael says and reaches out to place his hands on Ryan’s hips. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling Ryan’s familiar cologne. “I can’t think about it right now,” he feels Ryan stiffen “but when Conor leaves let’s do it, okay?”
Ryan lifts his head so that they’re eye level. “You’re not fucking with me? You mean it.”
“Yeah,” Michael replies and gives a little smile. He kisses Ryan quickly. “Just let’s wait until we get things figured out with Conor.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything for a long time. Michael can’t read his face and he can’t tell if Ryan’s excited or if Ryan even believes him. He’s about to ask Ryan to say something but suddenly Ryan surges forward and locks their lips together in a brutal kiss.
It takes Michael by surprise and they end up knocking their teeth together before they get the hang of it. Ryan kisses him until Michael is breathless and they only pull apart when Ryan’s neck starts to protest. “I fucking love you,” Ryan says, all breath.
“Love you too,” Michael says, breathless.
By the beginning of May Summer Madness starts to kick in - or that’s at least what Michael’s mom calls it, even though summer doesn’t technically start for another month. “They just know Michael,” Debbie says over the phone. “They get this itch that tells them summer is just around the corner. You used to get it too.” Michael always thought the itch was his ADHD, not ‘Summer Madness’.
It starts to get way warmer and instead of being content with drawing in the art room or watching TV or going to the pool for swim lessons Conor starts to want to play outside way more than usual. They’re backyard is decent size seeing as they live in a townhouse, but there isn’t much room for Conor to run around, especially not with two dogs always hot on his heels.
Instead they make it a point to go to the park almost every other day as long as Conor gets his homework done and Ryan promises not to do anything stupid like try to grind a rail on his skateboard.
“MP man,” Ryan whines when Michael glares him out of bringing a skateboard with them on their first go, “you’re sucking away all the fun.”
“It’s not going to be much fun when we’re in the ER because you fucked up your ankle, again.”
Ryan doesn’t take the skateboard with him but that doesn’t stop him from borrowing a skateboard when they get to the park. He manages to grind a rail perfectly and Conor looks like he’s about to ask for a go but then Ryan wipes out and Conor knows better to even think about getting on the skateboard.
They don’t go to the ER but Ryan does spend the rest of the night lying on the couch, his foot propped up on a pillow and a bag of ice on his ankle. Michael doesn’t say I told you but he does ignore Ryan’s pathetic whines when he can’t quite reach the remote.
In the second week of May they’re hit with a sudden cold front and Conor catches a cold. He spends the first day with his cold absolutely miserable in bed cuddling with Sydney. On the second day he manages to make it downstairs and cuddles up with Carter and Herman and on the third day he snags Michael as his cuddle partner.
Ryan’s taken up bartending a couple nights a week down at the local bar and even though it’s midday he’s at the bar covering a shift for a friend. It’s been quiet all afternoon with Conor practically sleeping all day and only being disturbed for bathroom and food breaks, but his temperature’s been going up and down constantly and Michael’s starting to get worried.
He calls his mom first because she’s the only logical person to call in these sorts of situations. “Take his temperature again,” Debbie says, “and if it’s still high take him to the emergency room.”
Conor doesn’t like having his temperature taken, or at least not while he’s slobbering away on a throw pillow.
“Just open your mouth and I’ll hold the thermometer in place,” Michael tries to reason and Conor just grossly sniffs and says, “Dad I don’t want to.”
Michael drops the thermometer in surprise. “What?”
Conor’s eyes are red and glossy from fever and he coughs before he buries himself back under a blanket. “I don’t wanna,” he manages to say.
He must be delusional from the fever. He has to be delusional because no training session prepared Michael for this. Conor just called him dad and Michael’s starting to have a silent freak out which isn’t helping the situation at all.
“I need to take your temperature,” Michael says again and picks up the thermometer with shaky fingers. He wipes it clean on his shirt and then pulls back the blanket to get to Conor. Conor whines but Michael manages to get the thermometer back in his mouth. It reads 101 and Michael makes the decision to take Conor to the ER.
On the way it pops into Michael’s head that it might actually be a good idea to call Ryan, to, you know, inform his husband that their foster child might be dying from pneumonia or something. The first thing that pops out of Michael’s mouth when Ryan answers is, “Conor just called me ‘dad’ and I think he might be dying.”
“Mike,” Conor whines from the back, totally oblivious to what’s going on, “I don’t feel good.”
Ryan is silent on the other end and then he says, “What?”
“He called me dad Ryan,” Michael says in a whisper and then has to repeat it louder because the speaker phone can’t quite catch what he’s saying. “And I’m taking him to the ER.”
“Shit,” Ryan says and doesn’t comment on the dad thing, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
It turns out that seven-year-olds with high fevers get admitted to the hospital faster than a thirty-two-year-old with a broken ankle. A doctor sees them right away and then has Conor admitted when his temperature comes back at 102. They run some tests and deduct that it’s not pneumonia that’s causing Conor’s high fever, thank god, but dehydration.
Ryan shows up soon after, hat askew and out of breath. The doctor gives him a pat on the back and tells them not to worry; once Conor’s stabilized he’ll able to go home and will be back to normal within a few days.
After she leaves they both collapse in chairs next to Conor’s bed. Conor’s wide awake and more alert now and is busy playing a game on Michael’s iPhone. By the sounds of it he’s losing horribly.
“He called you ‘dad’?” Ryan whispers into Michael’s ear once Conor starts to say some very mean things to the cell phone. They should tell Conor not to talk like that but Michael’s too busy continuing his silent freak out from earlier.
Michael shakily nods. He leans in closer to Ryan and says, “I think he was delusional from the fever.”
Conor looks at them, suspicious, and Ryan smiles before he reaches over and shows Conor a new way to beat the game. Conor’s attention immediately slips away from them. “What exactly did he say?”
“I was trying to take his temperature and he wouldn’t let me and he said, ‘Dad I don’t want to’ and then I dropped the thermometer.”
“Did you wipe it off?” Ryan asks. Michael raises his eyebrows in bewilderment because there are more pressing matters than if he wiped the thermometer off or not. “Yes!” He says, louder than he means to, but Conor doesn’t tear his eyes away from the phone.
Ryan chews on his bottom lip. He looks like he’s contemplating something deep, which usually means trouble for everyone involved. “I don’t think he was delusional, Mike.”
Michael waits for an explanation. Ryan manages to push both of their chairs back a little further from the bed and leans towards Michael. “He calls his dad ‘daddy’, remember?”
It kind of hits Michael like a bag of bricks. Conor has never referred to his parents by anything other than ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’, never. “Oh my god,” he says, “oh my god.”
“What?” Conor asks and drops Michael’s phone on to the tray in front of him. Earlier a kind nurse had given him some crackers and jelly to keep his appetite down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ryan replies but Conor doesn’t let it go. He might be seven but he isn’t stupid. “Something’s wrong,” he says. “You’re whispering and you only whisper when you’re keeping a secret! You said no secret keeping.”
Michael silently curses. It had been a rule established in one of Conor’s early therapy sessions; they wouldn’t keep secrets from Conor - which was a total lie - and Conor wouldn’t keep secrets from them. And now it’s coming back to bite them in the ass.
“We’re not keeping any secrets,” Michael says but Conor doesn’t look like he believes them.
“You are,” he whines and crosses his arms against his chest. “You are and it isn’t fair!”
He looks like he’s about to start crying and Michael feels guilty. He looks to Ryan for help and Ryan licks his lips before he stands and sits on the side of Conor’s hospital bed.
“We’re not keeping any secrets from you bud,” he says and Conor sniffles. He refuses to look at Ryan.
“We’re just super worried about you,” Ryan says and moves his head so Conor has to look at him.
“You’re not keeping a secret from me?” Conor asks tentatively. Ryan shakes his head. “Course not," he says. “That’s like totally not jeah, jeah?”
“Jeah!” Conor says and then goes back to playing the game on Michael’s iPhone. Michael sits in his chair and stares up at the ceiling repeating the word dad in Conor’s voice over and over again in his head. That pang of disappointment is back and this time it feels like it’s clawing at Michael’s heart.
Conor gets released from the hospital later that night. He gets to stay home for the next two days and misses a whole week of school, but Nathan comes over with his homework that weekend and a get well soon card from the entire class.
There are no more incidents with Conor calling Michael dad but there’s a soft pang of something every time Conor calls him Mike.
Spring gives way to summer easily. The first couple of weeks are spent lazing around by the pool and then somehow, because Ryan and Mike don’t really have jobs except to host some clinics here and there and to show up to fundraisers, the Phelps-Lochte house becomes a daycare.
Michael wants to be bothered by the fact that he’ll spend his entire summer babysitting, but he isn’t. Ricky has older siblings who would rather be out hanging with their friends than babysitting their little brother and it’s not like it’s a big deal to have an extra kid running around the house. Cecilia’s a stay-at-home mom but it doesn’t seem fair to keep Nathan away from Conor and it’s just much easier for her to drop Nathan off at their place instead of them taking both Conor and Ricky over to hers. And despite the fact that Matt is old enough to stay at home for a couple of hours by himself each day it just doesn’t seem right to have everyone over but Matt. Matt only comes over rarely because he’s going into sixth grade next year and the others will only be going into second.
It feels nice to have their house so full of life. None of the kids cause them any problems and they spend most of the day in the backyard with Herman and Carter or at the park with Ryan when Michael has to go to some event downtown.
Having their house full of kids also brings up emotions Michael doesn’t want to deal with. Watching Ryan run around the park with the kids, especially Conor, reminds Michael that the end is getting near - in two days Conor has an unsupervised visit with his parents and this time his brother too, a clear sign that things aren’t going in Michael and Ryan’s favor - and it also makes Michael think of the task ahead of them. He said yes to adopting a kid with Ryan and that thought makes him feel bitter. Not bitter because he said yes, but bitter over the fact that they wouldn’t need to go through the whole year-and-something long process if they were just allowed Conor. But being bitter doesn’t make Conor theirs, and being bitter just stains the whole process of getting their own kid.
Conor goes to his visit with his parents on Tuesday and his therapy session as well and when he leaves their house he’s excited and happy to see Patrick but when Michael and Ryan pick him up from Jane’s office his cheeks are red in anger and he refuses to speak to them.
Jane isn’t allowed to give them many details on how it went other than the whole meeting went smoothly. Things seemed to have taken a turn for the worse after his therapy session and Dr. Stevens refuses to give up any information that could be helpful. It pisses Michael off. They can’t fix the problem if they don’t know what the problem is.
Conor calms down and begins to speak to them once they get home, but he seems guarded. They aren’t allowed to ask specific questions about his parents or the day but even the small ‘did you have fun?’ questions are answered with a shrug. It worries Michael and then pisses him off all at the same time.
Ryan doesn’t seem as worried. “Maybe he’s just having a bad day,” he says with a shrug. Michael wants to be pissed off that Ryan doesn’t seem as worried as he is by Conor’s behavior but he’s learnt that being pissed off at Ryan doesn’t do anything but make them fight, so he lets it go.
Something changes in Conor that day that they can’t ignore.
Conor goes back to the shy boy he used to be the first couple of weeks he lived with them. No matter how slyly they ask what’s going or what’s wrong he just tells them nothing. He even begins to distant himself from Carter and Herman and that’s when Ryan starts to worry.
“Don’t you like Carter anymore?” He asks one night when Conor ignores Carter when the Doberman tries to get him to play ball. Carter is whimpering miserably and Ryan is babying him like usual.
Conor looks at Ryan and then looks to Carter and says, “I just don’t want to play with him.” His voice is whiney, but somehow still sharp and mean. Ryan looks hurt for Carter and then promptly decides to take Carter out for a walk.
They don’t press for Conor to play with the dogs but Michael breaks and calls Dr. Stevens one morning when he finds Sydney outside of Conor’s room, Conor’s door shut in her face. Conor loves Sydney, even more than he seems to love Carter and Herman, and he’s never kicked her out of his room before.
Sydney meows at the door and then wraps herself around Michael’s legs. Maybe Sydney left to eat or use the bathroom and Conor shut his door thinking she was already inside and simply just forgot to look for her. Michael checks on Conor and finds him asleep so he sets Sydney down on her usual spot near his feet and leaves to call the psychologist.
“He probably did it by accident,” the doctor says and doesn’t sound too concerned.
“But he’s never done it before,” Michael says and tries to emphasis his point as best as he can without sounding like a complete asshole. Dr. Stevens just tells him not to worry and he’ll talk to Conor about it next week.
It happens again the next morning and Michael knows that Conor’s doing it on purpose now.
“Is Sydney bothering you when you sleep?” Michael asks at breakfast that morning. Conor seems happier than usual but his face falls and he pushes away his bowl of cereal. “I don’t want her in my room anymore.”
From them on Sydney sleeps in the master bedroom. For the first two nights she’s meows and paces and claws at the door trying to get out but after a while she realizes that Conor doesn’t want her anymore and hides under their bed with Herman’s shoe collection.
What breaks the camel’s back is Nathan.
Ricky is away on vacation with his family and Matt is at swim practice so the only kid who comes over is Nathan. Conor is excited to just hang out with Nathan and Michael and Ryan leave them to play in the art studio.
They’re in the living room playing Madden when they hear a bump from upstairs and then a series of yells. Michael is immediately terrified that they’ve messed with the giant paper cutter and someone has lost a limb, even though it’s kept at the very top of the closet. It only takes a matter of seconds for both of them to drop their controllers and race upstairs.
Michael opens the door expecting to see blood and a severed limb but instead he finds Nathan on the floor crying and Conor standing over him crying as well as he screams, “I don’t want to be your friend Nathan!”
“What happened?!” Michael asks when he glances around the room and sees the lack of blood on the walls. Ryan is already by Nathan’s side helping him up as Nathan clings to him and he babbles something to Ryan that Michael can’t quite make out.
“Conor,” Michael hisses and places his hand on Conor’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Conor sucks in a breath through his tears before he pushes Michael away from him and runs down the hall. His door slams shut and then opens this time, Conor’s voice at a near scream, “Sydney get out! Get out!” Sydney yowls and then Conor’s door slams shut again.
“I’ll take care of Conor,” Ryan says and hands Nathan over. Michael takes Nathan into his arms and heads downstairs as Ryan heads into Conor’s room.
Nathan has calmed down a little and Michael sets him on the kitchen counter. He wipes at Nathan’s tears and asks, “What happened?”
Nathan sniffles. “We were coloring and I told Conor how cool it would be if we were in the same class next year and then he got really angry and pushed me over and told me he didn’t want to be my friend anymore and when I kept asking him why he kept saying I was stupid and he didn’t want to be my friend.” He sucks in a breath and continues, “And he said that Matt didn’t want to be my friend either and Ricky too.”
Michael sighs and runs his hand over his face. “Conor’s been in a bad mood recently he didn’t mean it. You’re not stupid and of course Ricky and Matt want to be your friend, and Conor too.”
Nathan just starts to cry again. Michael calls Cecilia and she comes over right away to pick her son up.
“I’m sorry,” Michael tells her as they’re leaving. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with him lately.”
“It’s alright,” Cecilia says because she might be the most calm and understanding woman Michael has ever met. “Things must be hard for him.”
Michael heads upstairs. Conor’s door is shut firmly and he finds Ryan in the art room, putting away markers and crayons. He slumps against the doorway and waits for Ryan to notice him.
“He wouldn’t talk to me,” Ryan says and looks over his shoulder at Sydney who’s nudged her way under the desk. “He kept saying I wasn’t his dad and he didn’t have to talk to me.”
Michael feels like he’s been punched in the gut. They’re not Conor’s parents but after the whole ‘dad’ incident there had been something in the air - something akin to jealousy.
Ryan had never come out right and said that he was jealous that Conor had called Michael ‘dad’ but Michael knows it must have hurt not to ever hear Conor call him that, even on accident.
Michael sits down on the floor and Ryan slumps against him. Sydney comes out of her hiding spot and curls herself up in Ryan’s lap. “Something’s wrong with him MP,” Ryan mumbles.
“I know,” is all Michael can reply.
Conor doesn’t come out of his bedroom for the rest of the night, even when it’s dinner time. They force him out of his room for breakfast but Conor just eats silently and glares at them and when he’s done he disappears back into his room.
Michael has to make the phone call to Ricky’s mom to tell her that they won’t be able to babysit anymore and Ryan leaves a voicemail on Cecilia’s phone to tell her that it’s probably not a good idea for Nathan to come over anymore.
Conor’s behavior only gets worse after that. He starts to throw tantrums when he’s asked to do the littlest things that never seemed to bother him before. He gets upset with Herman and Carter when they try to initiate play. He starts to say means things to them and even though he never utters the word he promised never to say Michael has a feeling that it’s hanging on the tip of his tongue.
Every time they try to reason with Conor or punish him he informs them that they aren’t his parents and it leaves the both of them stunned and upset. They try to talk to Jane about what they’re supposed to do with this new turn of events and she even tries talking to Conor but Conor calls her ugly and slams his door in her face.
They try to take him to see Dr. Stevens on a weekly basis but Conor either throws a tantrum and refuses to get in the car or he refuses to speak when they get to the office.
Living in their house becomes hell, Michael and Ryan tip-toeing around Conor and trying to keep the animals from going anywhere near him, and then one day Ryan just snaps. Michael’s expecting it to be him to lose his cool first but one day Conor just pushes Ryan’s buttons enough that Ryan just breaks.
“Stop it!” He shouts when Conor’s throwing a tantrum over having to go to bed. “Conor stop it!”
“You’re not my -” Conor begins between sobs and Ryan cuts him off before he can finish.
“I fucking know I’m not your dad, okay?!” Ryan’s face is flushed red and his eyes wide. It’s the angriest Michael has ever seen him. “It fucking sucks that I’m not your dad but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to me!”
Conor is standing in shocked silence and Michael is looking between them, not sure if he should say anything or not.
Ryan rubs at his face and sucks in a deep breath. “What’s wrong Conor?” He asks, quieter, defeated.
Conor looks around and then begins to cry. “You’re not my parents.”
Michael balls his hands into fists because they’re getting nowhere and he’s starting to lose his patience as well. Conor begins to cry harder. “You’re not my parents,” he says and then begins to repeat it.
Ryan puts his face in his hands and collapses into a chair. “Conor,” he says but Conor cries louder.
“No!” the seven-year-old nearly screams. “No! No! You’re not my parents!”
“Conor,” Michael says. “We know that.”
Conor looks at him and then he stomps his foot, frustrated. He goes over to Ryan and then climbs onto his lap, Ryan doing nothing to stop him. “You’re not my parents,” Conor whispers between sobs, and then something clicks in Michael’s head.
“You’re not my parents,” Conor says and Michael finally gets it. Conor isn’t saying it to be a little shit, he isn’t saying it to get his way - he’s saying it because it’s fucking true and it’s killing him as much as it’s killing them.
Ryan looks like he’s about to cry. He pulls Conor as close to his body as he possibly can and buries his face in Conor’s hair, eyes closed.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan says into Conor’s hair. Conor does a full body shiver and then slumps in Ryan’s arms, like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He whispers something to Ryan and Ryan nods and kisses the side of Conor’s head like he’s accepting an apology.
Michael hangs back. There’s no room for him on the chair next to Ryan and Conor doesn’t seem like he’s going to move anytime soon. Ryan lifts his head and looks up at Michael before extending his hand. Michael takes it.
He stands next to Ryan and then leans down until he can scoop Conor off of Ryan’s lap and into his arms. Conor clings to Michael’s neck and says, “I’m sorry Mike.”
“It’s okay,” Michael says and feels like for the first time in days that it really is.
Conor’s behavior doesn’t adjust right away but over the course of a week he goes back to being the sweet kid that he’s used to be. He hugs Herman and Carter and apologizes to them and spends a long time just talking to Sydney and telling her that he’s sorry. They all forgive Conor instantly because animals are amazing like that - they never hold grudges.
He talks to Nathan over the phone and apologizes, and the Phelps-Lochtes start up their ‘daycare’ service once more. When Nathan comes over for the first time in weeks they hug it out and then go back to being the best of friends and even though Ricky has a new babysitter he comes over on the weekends and whenever his babysitter can’t watch him.
On the last Saturday of summer they host a barbeque. Michael’s mom and sisters show up and all of Conor’s friends and their parents and Cullen flies in from New York. The house is packed full of people and amazingly Cullen and Ryan only have one we-almost-set-the-house-on-fire fiasco.
After everyone has left Michael, Ryan, and Cullen sit on the deck nursing beers, Conor passed out on Michael’s chest.
Cullen is grinning one of his shit-eating grins as he takes a sip of his beer and Michael nudges him with his foot. “Out with it,” he says because he knows Cullen has some sort of comment.
“What?” Cullen asks, faking innocence.
Michael rolls his eyes. Cullen laughs. “Man,” he says, “never thought I’d see the great Michael Phelps with a kid.”
Michael flushes. “Yeah, well,” he says, “he’s not ours.”
The mood suddenly gets somber. Ryan’s been on the phone to his best friend a lot more than usual recently and Michael knows why. Ryan and Cullen are close and whenever Ryan has to do correspondent gigs in New York he always hits his boy up, but it’s rare that Cullen ever comes to visit them. It’s not because Cullen doesn’t want to, or they don’t want Cullen to, it’s just Ryan and Cullen have a friendship where they don’t have to see each other frequently to know that they’re still tight. And Cullen visits when it counts; he was there for their wedding and was there through the whole coming out fiasco and Michael’s pretty sure if they do ever end up having a baby he’ll be there for the birth.
And he’s here now because Ryan needs him.
“When are they going to make you give him up?” Cullen asks and sets his beer down on the glass table. He leans forward, suddenly serious.
“We don’t know,” Ryan says and runs a hand through his hair. His curls haven’t come back yet but his hair is longer than it’s been in a long time. “Shit Cullen, he doesn’t want to go back.”
Cullen nods because Michael’s sure Ryan’s informed him about the weeks of hell they’ve been through and Conor’s confession at the end of it all. Cullen looks like he doesn’t know what to say and that’s okay because neither of them know what to say either.
Cullen doesn’t fly home right away. Instead he sticks around for two weeks and soon becomes Conor’s favorite person. He nicknames Cullen Big C and insists that Cullen walk him to the bus stop the first day of school. They bond quickly and when Cullen has to leave to return to New York Conor refuses to let go of him in the airport.
The first month of school goes by quickly. Nathan and Conor aren’t in the same class but they do have recess together and a combined music class along with Ricky. Matt is across the street in the brand new middle school and it leaves all them depressed not to see his familiar face on the playground.
For a long time things are easy. Conor goes to therapy and talks to his brother over the phone and sometimes his parents and they don’t hear anything from Jane about when the Dwyer’s are going to get custody back.
For Halloween Conor dresses up as an alien cowboy and they take him to his first ever amusement park in Virginia for Halloween Haunt. They spend all day riding roller coasters and eating junk food and at night Conor spends most of the time clutching their hands and trying to put on a brave face as they go through the haunted mazes and encounter monsters hanging around the rides.
During Thanksgiving break they fly down to Florida to spend the holiday with Ryan’s family. They all crowd around the large table in Ike’s tiny kitchen and eat until they burst and then at night Conor joins Ryan’s nephews and nieces in running around to catch fireflies. Right before they leave Steven takes Conor to the local pool to give him a private lesson and when they return Steven looks at the both of them serious and says, “With a little more practice he could be as good as you two one day.”
It makes Michael proud but the moment doesn’t last long. He doubts Patrick Dwyer Sr. will continue to teach his soon how to swim or even take him to a pool.
When they get back to Baltimore they eat ice cream straight out of the tub to celebrity the one-year anniversary of Conor living with them. It’s a bittersweet night but they don’t let it get to them.
It all goes crashing down the first week of December.
They’re just leaving the mall after buying early Christmas presents and a birthday present for Nathan when Michael gets the call.
Jane is usually happy and perky over the phone but this time her voice is somber as she says, “Conor has his last visit with his parents on the 15th.”
Michael doesn’t reply. In front of him Conor and Ryan are holding hands and skipping towards where they parked their car.
“Michael?” Jane asks and Michael finally replies with a grunt.
Jane sighs. “I know this is hard,” she says and Michael rolls his eyes, “but this really the best for him.”
“Yeah,” Michael says even though he doesn’t really believe that it is. He says goodbye to Jane and then climbs into the car, this time letting Ryan drive them home. Ryan can sense that’s something wrong but Michael doesn’t tell him about the last visit until Conor’s preoccupied in the living room wrapping presents with Herman.
Ryan just leans back on the island after receiving the news and tips his head back. “Fuck,” he says. “Already?”
“She said it would be between a few months and a year,” Michael replies and comes to stand in front of Ryan. He places his hands on Ryan’s waist and brings their hips together. “We knew it was going to happen someday.”
“I know.” Ryan doesn’t look convinced, or happy.
They stand like that until Conor comes into the kitchen asking for food. He raises his eyebrows at them and then wiggles his way between them. “Not fair,” he says and only relents when Ryan picks him up and gives him a bear hug.
Breaking the news to Conor ends up being the hardest thing Michael thinks he’s ever had to do, even harder than winning eight gold medals in nine days. Conor doesn’t seem to understand what the big deal is about having the last visit with his parents and he only gets it after Ryan explains that it means Conor can’t stay with them anymore.
Conor’s face immediately drops. “No,” he says and shakes his head. “I don’t want to live with them!”
“I know,” Michael says and has to grip the edge of the island to keep himself together. “But you have to.”
Conor begins to cry. He’s not having a fit or throwing a tantrum, just crying big fat tears. “I don’t wanna,” he says again and Ryan ruffles his hair. “I know,” the older man says, “we don’t want you to either.”
“Can’t you ask Miss Jane?” Conor pleads. “She’ll say I can stay here!”
Michael closes his eyes and reopens them. “We asked her already. She said no.”
Conor starts to shake. He climbs across the island and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck and just holds on.
part one part two part four AO3