Tears will be shed don't say I didn't warn you.
Thanks to WAA01 for the edits
******
Three days later...
Rain hammered the roof of the Masters' home. Those cleansing droplets running down the panes of glass that were held within their housings. Weak, soft, white light of the street lights was the only thing that illuminating the front yard of their home. One would think all would be asleep at that hour of night, however, you would be wrong as one troubled soul walked those halls. Guilt eating away at his heart. Sorrow filled his eyes as the blue-white light of the flash of lightning highlighted John Masters face. Depression ruled his heart ever since he and Annie had returned from his very first rape survivor support group. The darkness, that filled the room he had found himself in, mirrored the same darkness that lurked in his mind and soul. A darkness that he has lived in for five long years that would never let him go. Nothing in his world could or would ever banish the pain, the heartache, the torment that forever lives in his mind. His fingers moved along the stereo system; he didn't need to see the buttons to know where they were as his index finger pressed down on the power button.
Listening to the light pop of the speakers as they kicked on. Moving away as the radio played. Staring listlessly out the front door as it stood open. The cold late spring air chilled his skin as John felt the droplets of spray from the rain as it landed on his shins as the rain struck the boards of the porch. Tears reamed his eyes as Moby's 'One of these mornings' began to play. In his delusional mind there was no storm, no lightning or thunder. No. There was only the brick walls that surrounded the courtyard. The weeds that grew in the cracks of the concrete. The unkempt beds that lined the walls, and the center, rectangular plot of the courtyard. Her soiled face appeared in his mind as he recounted when he was thirteen as he watched her walk along the rear wall. Her black hair floating softly on the weak breeze that made it into the courtyard. Her green eyes slyly glancing at him noticing his own gaze, bashfully smiling at him, even underneath the dirt that caked her skin he could still see those rosy cheeks of hers.
His hand darted out catching himself on the doorframe. His knees felt weak and trembly, his left hand covered his face as he loudly wept into it. Remembering how her hand felt in his as she slid hers into it. The way her body felt as it brushed against his as she walked beside him in that little world of theirs; the only escape they had from the horror simply waiting for their return. The sound of her voice as she comforted him; it gave him strength to endure the torture from the hands of people who were meant to help. The way her fingers felt as they brushed through his hair as she held him close. The feel of her lips as they lightly pressed on his forehead.
"Why?!" The word escaped his lips in a low whisper filled with anguish. His fingers trailed down his face as his hand clenched into a fist. His anger sparked, igniting the raw emotions in his heart, feeling it growing into a raging conflagration in his green eyes. "Why her?!" His voice growing in strength. John felt his legs moving heeding his unspoken command. "Why did you have to take her!?" Johnny shouted to the Heavens as the rain soaked his near naked body. "Answer me, damn you!" His face red with rage, his tears mixing with the rain that streaked down his face. "Why..." His lower lip trembled as his legs gave out, his knees striking the ground in a wet splash. His arms hung lifelessly at his side as he stared up at that dark sky. Taunting him, tormenting him as it felt to him that whoever was in those airy halls would never give him an answer to his question. "Why didn't you take..."
"Johnny!" John's body rocked as his father's arms encased him in their strength. Brandan's hand lightly stroked the back of John's head as his son wept into his chest. Looking up as the sound of those rain droplets struck the fabric of the umbrella as his wife stood out on their soaked lawn.
"I just want it to end," Johnny said, through his sobs. "I hate..."
"Don't you talk like that son," Brandan said, pulling his son close. "Don't you ever talk like that!" Holding his son tighter, "I know it's hard, I know you miss her so much, but don't you go thinking..." His voice trembled unable to bring himself to say the words. His green eyes glanced up to Katherine seeing her own tears forming in her blue eyes and the heartache of hearing those words leaving their son's lips. "I can't say why you survived and she didn't, yet don't you see how happy we, your mother and I, are, so very happy that you are here with us," Brandan spoke as he held his son's face in his hands. His thumbs brushed along John's wet cheeks as he stared into his son's eyes. "I would be very, very heartbroken, as you are now, if I lost you. I know it hurts now, but that's what it means when you really love someone and they're taken from you. Julia will always be here," Brandan said, placing his right hand over his son's heart.
"Until someone takes my memories again," Johnny said, weakly.
"Honey," Katherine's soft voice floated on the air, "no one will ever do that to you; never again," she said, her fingers trailed through strands of his soaked black hair. "How about we go inside and get you dried and warmed up, okay?" The hurt, the pain, the sadness she saw in her son's eyes tore at her heart as John stared up at her.
"Come on, before you catch a cold out here," Brandan said, rubbing his son's arms as he felt John shivering.
"Why... it would just be..."
"No it won't! You are my son!" Brandan said sternly, taking John by the shoulders. "No matter how damaged, how down, or whatever is going through your head right now. You will always be my son; don't you ever forget that! If you need someone to talk to, we'll get you as many as you need. But don't you ever think you are a burden to us," he said, trying to get through the dark thoughts in his son's mind.
"Then... why didn't Julia's mother care?!" Johnny asked, trying to understand.
"We'll talk about this inside," Brandan said, in a fatherly tone. Helping his son to his feet, sharing a glance with Katherine wondering if she knew about this. "Head back to bed honey, I'll stay with Johnny," he said, as he scrubbed John dry.
"But..."
"I think the two of us need a father-son talk," Brandan said, smiling warmly at John, who blushed and bowed his head.
"As long as you're sure," Katherine said, wondering what was going through her son's mind at the moment. "I want to know everything in the morning."
"I promise," Brandan nodded. Remembering when John was two as he dried his hair after the many baths he had given to his son as the towel ruffled John's hair. "There's my boy," he said, in a warm tone as he lightly ran the towel along his son's face. "Yeah, there's my li'l John," Brandan whispered his lips lightly pressed against the skin of John's forehead, inhaling deeply into his son's hair. His eyes shut tightly praying that something else wouldn't be the cause of another problem for his son to deal with. "Now you get changed and into your pajamas, while I go dry off as well; and we'll talk in the living room, alright?"
"So what was this about Julia's mother?" Brandan asked, once he sat down beside John on the couch. Wrapping his right arm around John's shoulders as he pulled his son close.
"When... when I met with Jared, that's Julia's dad, he said something about how she didn't want her. That she only kept her to keep her from Jared," Johnny said, feeling his father's grip tightening, and the muscles of his arm constricting as he spoke. "Why would she do that? If she cared so little about her own daughter?" he asked, weakly. "Why would she throw away Julia like that?"
"I can't answer that son," Brandan said, lightly rubbing John's shoulder. "I don't know why this woman would do that to the father of her own child. Obviously, this Jared loved Julia very much, just like you," lightly squeezing his son into him, "I know for a fact your mother would never do that to you. Even when you were at your darkest. Katherine nor I would ever abandon you when you needed us the most," he said, seeing his son studying his face looking for any hints of deception in his voice. "I know you must have felt like that when you were in that place. Yet in our hearts we were only trying to help you in the best way that we could. The way you were, your mother and I, we were at a loss. Our heads were spinning trying to figure out how and why you became like this.
What we did wrong, your mother freaking out that she did something wrong when she was carrying you. We knew it was nothing we did, that you were born like this, something carried down through our shared genetics. I know you got a very raw deal in that, and what happened to you. However, not once, not one single moment, from the time you were born until now, do we regret having you. You are one of our greatest treasures," Brandan said, in a loving fatherly voice.
"How? Look at me?" Johnny asked, combatively.
"Sometimes Johnny the greatest things in life, or in this case you, are the ones that seem the most damaged," Brandan said, his thumb brushed along John's hair.
"Huh? I don't understand," Johnny uttered perplexed.
"Every day, you get up, go about your day, deal with everything we do, yet you also have to deal with everything going on inside of your head. Some days it gets you down, but Johnny you have so much to deal with. I know a lot of guys, of the macho variety, who talk a big game but would cave the moment they were faced with what you deal with every second of your life. Nonetheless, no matter how bleak, how dark you think your mind is you still go out there, go to school, do your schoolwork. You keep going forward, you haven't given up, don't give up on us now," Brandan said, looking squarely in the eye.
John looked away unsure how to take what his father had been saying to him. Unsure how to react to what he was feeling.
"I can't image what you're going through right now; nor can I know what Julia meant to you. However, I know for a fact by the way you still mourn for her, Julia meant a great deal to you," his arm rose over his son's head, reaching down gently squeezing John's left hand, "but soon you will need to let her go. That doesn't mean you forget about her," Brandan quickly said, as John's gaze shot towards him. A look he knew all too well, a look that foretold of a side of his son he never wanted the world to see. "Think of this Johnny: would Julia want you to be this way? To be out there in a thunderstorm, screaming at the sky, would she want that, or would she want you to sink your life on the past? Or would she want you to live for the future?" he asked, his hand tightened as John tried to detangle his hand from his own. "Son, Johnny, I might not have had anyone I ever loved violated like Julia was before I met your mother, or die. However, I know, given time, they would want me to move on with my life. To live again, to be with someone who would be there for you when she couldn't. You do see that right?" Brandan asked, arching an eyebrow. "No rush Johnny, you okay?" he inquired as his son's hands went to his head. "Come on, let's get you to bed," Brandan uttered wrapping his arm around his son and helping him to stand.
