76. Faith
It was more a family thing than a church thing - every night, Brendon's mom or dad would get whatever kids were in the house to sit in the living room for a minute or two so they could have a family prayer. And in the morning, usually when they were just about to go catch buses or go to work, Brendon's mom would make the kids hush and she'd say a prayer before they all left. Never anything rote or especially profound, just a general thanksgiving and supplication for the safety of their family.
Brendon can remember the day he started mentally tacking on "and Ryan and Brent and Spencer" to the list his parents prayed to keep safe. He can remember adding Jon later (though he didn't - couldn't - stop including Brent). He remembers how his hands shook when he clasped them, alone in his apartment that first night, hiding and quaking under the bedcovers as he tried to be his own family, his own little unit of one.
He remembers trying to give it up, going for months without it and then suddenly, on a bus or in his own house or in a hotel room, having to find somewhere quiet that he could inconspicuously fold his arms and quietly go through his list of "thank you for _____, please keep ____ safe and happy, and help my parents know I love them."
Jon caught him at it, once - but Jon was Jon, and just blinked and backed out of the room, and gave Brendon a hug when he reappeared, and later on when it was the two of them asked Brendon to put in a good word for him.
Brendon remembers how, when he was little, sometimes he'd open his eyes during the prayer and watch his family, solemn and safe, and feel his heart rattle for love of them. How it would make him shake, trying to contain it.
It's the same feeling he gets the night Spencer moves in (actually moves in, from down the hall, moves in like oh hey one bed one lease two names moves in). He watches Spencer breathing, the in and out of his lungs under the sheets of their bed, and he feels like he might fly to pieces, so he crawls in and curls up and curls around and holds tight to Spencer, his lips pressed to Spencer's forehead as he silently whispers thank you thank you thank you thank you please please keep him safe, please, thank you so much.
And okay, his eyes are not exactly dry when Spencer (that sleep-faking bastard) reaches down and takes his hand and squeezes it and nods his agreement, tucking his face into Brendon's neck and holding on to him just as tight.
12/09/09
Brendon can remember the day he started mentally tacking on "and Ryan and Brent and Spencer" to the list his parents prayed to keep safe. He can remember adding Jon later (though he didn't - couldn't - stop including Brent). He remembers how his hands shook when he clasped them, alone in his apartment that first night, hiding and quaking under the bedcovers as he tried to be his own family, his own little unit of one.
He remembers trying to give it up, going for months without it and then suddenly, on a bus or in his own house or in a hotel room, having to find somewhere quiet that he could inconspicuously fold his arms and quietly go through his list of "thank you for _____, please keep ____ safe and happy, and help my parents know I love them."
Jon caught him at it, once - but Jon was Jon, and just blinked and backed out of the room, and gave Brendon a hug when he reappeared, and later on when it was the two of them asked Brendon to put in a good word for him.
Brendon remembers how, when he was little, sometimes he'd open his eyes during the prayer and watch his family, solemn and safe, and feel his heart rattle for love of them. How it would make him shake, trying to contain it.
It's the same feeling he gets the night Spencer moves in (actually moves in, from down the hall, moves in like oh hey one bed one lease two names moves in). He watches Spencer breathing, the in and out of his lungs under the sheets of their bed, and he feels like he might fly to pieces, so he crawls in and curls up and curls around and holds tight to Spencer, his lips pressed to Spencer's forehead as he silently whispers thank you thank you thank you thank you please please keep him safe, please, thank you so much.
And okay, his eyes are not exactly dry when Spencer (that sleep-faking bastard) reaches down and takes his hand and squeezes it and nods his agreement, tucking his face into Brendon's neck and holding on to him just as tight.
12/09/09