The Punchline to the Joke Is Asking

I was sitting in a different spot than usual, hoping to avoid having the kid dumped on me. But of course Gabe sought me out just to put the kid on my lap and walk away laughing.
"Hey, kid." I sighed, resigned. Bronx just babbled and smiled at me. I felt something inside me break, and held him close, his head resting on my shoulder, humming absentmindedly, stroking his hair. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.
"You ok?" Pete asked, sitting next to me.
"Yeah, why?" I replied, meeting his eyes in confusion.
"'Cause you don't look ok." Pete said, reaching out to touch my face. I blinked when I realized he was wiping away a tear. I was crying?
"Yeah, well, I'm fine." I said gruffly. "Just... take your kid."
"Tell me what's wrong."
I looked away from Pete, glaring into space, trying to stop the tears I was now aware of with sheer force of will... but the harder I tried, the faster they came. "Nothing."
"Kid, -" Pete began, and that did it.
"Know what? You're right. I am a kid. I'm a kid who doesn't have a family and never will. I'm a kid who's just a screw up, a street kid, somebody nobody cares about. I don't even care about me. I don't like you 'cause you've got a family, and I don't like your kid 'cause his parents like him. My parents hated me and I can't have kids. I'm on my own, and I know it. And I was doing just fine on the streets." I handed Bronx to Pete, who just looked at me sadly, and then I slid out the door, still trying not to cry, unaware that all the guys were staring at me.
I strode down the sidewalk, fists clenched in my pockets, shoulders hunched, head down, pretending the drops splattering on the pavement were just raindrops. Meaningless.
When I found the old park, closed because it was deemed 'hazardous for children', I climbed the chain link fence and went straight for the pirate-ship like structure, climbing up to the crow's nest, laying on my back on the rusty metal, thirty feet in the air.
Then I started crying for real.
It wasn't fair. Bronx had parents who loved him, and the guys would be the best surrogate uncles on the planet. Pete and Gerard, they had families who loved them- a wife and kid.
I wanted a family. I wanted my parents to love me, but I could never be a Nazi. I wanted a husband and kids, but what guy would marry a sterile girl?
I knew it was petty and childish to be jealous about that, hold it against them, to hate them for it, but I was a kid. I'd just never had the chance to act like one.
I stayed the night in the park, up in that crow's nest. The next day, I wandered around the park, going on the swings, walking to the river that flowed through part of the field. Finally, I hopped the fence and went back to my place.
There were a couple messages on my answering machine, and when I turned my cell back on it was full, but I just deleted it all. I needed to cool off for a while.
With a sigh, I fell onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Chicago wasn't far from New York. I could make it. I'd made it there before.

My phone started ringing, but I pretended I didn't hear it. When the machine finally clicked on, a familiar voice started talking.
"Look, Cyn, I know I'm probably the last person you'd wanna hear from right now, but-" Pete sighed. "Look, we're just, we're worried, ok?" I could picture him running a hand down his face like he did whenever he was stressed. "At least call one of us back, Joe and Brendon’ve been crying. And...I'm sorry, kid." Click.
I sighed. I didn't want his pity. I didn't need it. Then I decided to text Brendon.
Stop worrying. And smack Joe if he doesn't stop crying. <3
I sent the text, then decided to just fall asleep.

I stretched when I woke up, feeling better, then opened my eyes, sitting up on my couch.
Joe, Brendon, Gabe, Bill, and Ryan were sitting on the other couch, staring at me.
"He smacked me." Joe pouted at me, pointing at Brendon.
"I'm sorry." I said, holding my arms open for a hug. They all immediately tackled me, making me laugh.

*

After my whole tantrum, the guys weren't really sure how to handle me. The little gang who'd broken into my apartment seemed to have decided to treat me like they always had, and hope it worked.

I was hanging with them one day when I caught Joe giving me a serious look, as if thinking about something important.
"What?" I asked, grinning crookedly.
"Can you just tell us? Why you don't like Pete and Gerard anymore?" Brendon asked, and Joe looked at him, then nodded at me.
"Were you really a street kid?" Bill asked.
"Yeah." I admitted, looking down.
"Story time." Gabe said gently, sitting down on the floor in front of me, soon joined by all the other guys, making a semicircle.
"I'd have to start from the beginning." I warned them, but they nodded.
"That's a good place." Joe agreed.
"It's kinda long." I made a face, trying to get out of it.
"We've got time." Ryan said.
I sighed, then nodded.
"I'm from a small town in Oklahoma. My parents and I never got along- they're Neo Nazis, KKK Klan Leaders, everything. My friends' parents were like them, too." I said, studying my hands. "I never agreed with that. They drugged me for years, tried to make me go along with it, but... I just never wanted it. I was 10 when I found out they'd been drugging me, and I blew a fuse at them. It was our biggest fight ever, and they threw me out. I knew I had to get away from that town, so... I started walking, hitchhiking, anything. I wound up in New York City. Living in the streets. I met other kids who's parents tossed 'em out, who ran away from abuse, I met the parents who wrecked their kids' lives." I was staring at the floor, and I knew my eyes had that cold, dead look to them, the one that said you'd do anything to scrape through to see tomorrow. The look of a street kid. "Yeah, I'm a kid, and yeah, I'm being childish, but I don't like parents. I don't like families. They're not happy, they're not perfect. They're disasters." I shook my head, then glanced up at the guys.
Brendon and Ryan were blinking, shocked, and Bill was looking at me with enough pity to make me want to throttle him. Joe was giving me a look like he was torn between pity and disgust.
"What was it like on the streets?" Gabe asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.
"Heat stroke. Hypothermia. Shootings. Suicide attempts. Rape. Starvation. Backstabbing friends and stabbing friends in the back to get by yourself. You've gotta think on your feet and you've gotta know your limit, but most of all you need to know who you can fight, when you should run, and where you can hide." I sighed. "Some of us looked out for each other, banded together out of necessity. We were alone, but we were together, somehow. We have our own language on the streets, our own legends and stories and bogeymen. We've got our jokes. There're good times, and there're bad times." I shrugged. "I liked it, sometimes. It was better than where I came from."
"That sounds... unbelievable. You were 10? How'd you make it?" Ryan asked, awed.
"I'm a kid. We bounce back." I shrugged again. "We survive."
"Now you're calling yourself a kid." Joe teased, knowing I usually fussed about it.
"What, you actually bought that I'm 19?" I asked incredulously, my eyes dancing wickedly as I grinned at him. "I knew I was good at lying, but even I thought it was a little incredible."
"So how old are you?" Bill pressed, and the guys all looked at me eagerly.
I made a face. "This is our little secret, ok?" I asked, and they all nodded fervently. I rolled my eyes- they'd sell me out for candy.
I dropped my gaze to the floor, a little shy, and definitely about to take a hit in my pride. Being young made me feel insignificant, inferior, even. "Almost 17." I admitted.

When the guys finally left, after we'd hung out and acted normal for a while, Joe told me he was going to tell Pete, Patrick, and Andy my story, but not my age. He said he'd be telling My Chem, too.
I just sighed and nodded, resigned.
Joe gave me a big hug, then wrecked the moment by ruffling my hair and calling me 'kid', making me laugh and shove him away.

Everyone was at Pete's place again. We all seemed to wind up there, somehow. It was like his door was always open to his friends for mini-parties.
I saw that Gabe had Bronx, who looked upset. It was easy to see he was tired and just wanted a nap, but Gabe didn't get it. So I went and got him. Gabe raised his eyebrows at me, but handed me the kid.
I held Bronx carefully, and he giggled a little when he saw me, then yawned.
I'd been in Pete's house many times, and had seen the door to Bronx's room many times, though I hadn't realized it was his room until now. I knew because there were two stars on the door. The second star to the right- Neverland, a safe haven for kids.
I took Bronx up to his room, and sat down with him cuddled up to me in the chair by his crib, my back to the door.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be and answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. There will be an answer, let it be. And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me, shine on until tomorrow, let it be. I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be." I didn't bother finishing the song, because Bronx was sleeping peacefully, curled up in my arms.
"You're a lucky kid, y'know. Your dad loves you, and all his friends. They'll look out for you, keep you safe. They're not like my parents." I sighed. "My parents don't count. But you-" I looked at Bronx again, away from the point on the wall I'd zoned out at. "You've got it good." I smiled at him. "You won't be like me. I hope you're nothing like me. You're better than that." I sighed again, then put Bronx in his crib, turning towards the door. Pete was leaning on the doorframe, looking surprised and slightly guilty.
I blinked, equally surprised, the crossed my arms across my chest, gazing at him levelly.
Pete dropped my gaze. "I saw you walk away with Bronx, so...." He trailed off. He'd been worried.
"He was tired." I replied, looking away from Pete.
"Yeah.... Thanks." Pete said quietly.
"Right." I nodded, trying to figure out how to escape without mowing Pete down in the doorway.
That problem was solved when Pete walked forward and hugged me.
I stiffened in surprise, then gave him a quick, half-hearted hug. "Sorry I'm a brat." I whispered, then walked away, not looking at him. I heard him sigh as I went down the hall, back to my friends.
Back in the living room, I saw Brendon trying to surreptitiously hand off a purple Monster to Joe. I dove between them and intercepted it, making Brendon laugh and Joe tackle me in revenge.
"Mine!" I yelled triumphantly, holding the Monster up from where I was pinned facedown beneath Joe.
"Mine." Joe corrected, pulling the Monster out of my hand.
I made a sad face and let my hand fall.
Joe frowned at me, looking between the Monster and me, then handed it back. "Don't be sad."
"Yay!" I said happily, sitting up and dislodging him. I hugged him quickly, then cracked open the Monster, taking a swig. Then I offered it to Joe, who had some, too.
Then I was tackle by Ryan.
I blinked at him, surprised- it was so out of character for him.
He was blushing, and sat up rather quickly. "Sorry, Gabe threw me."
I giggled. "So throw yourself back."
Ryan gave me a blank look, so I rolled my eyes, grinning. "Like this." I tackled Gabe, who fell onto the couch.
"Why do all the girls throw themselves at me?" He teased.
"Because you're so damn smexy." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, making him laugh.
Then I was pulled off Gabe, into Joe's lap, just in time for Ryan to 'throw himself' back at Gabe.
"Way to steal me." I rolled my eyes at Joe.
"Ooh! New game! Steal the kid!" Bill said excitedly.
"Stop calling me-!" I began, but was cut off by Brendon grabbing me away from Joe. "Hey! What am I, a new toy?"
"Yes, you're my brand-new toy. Wanna play dress up?" Brendon winked at me.
"Only if you're dressing me up." I rolled my eyes, and Brendon giggled.
"Too bad Cyn's mine." Frankie said, pulling me over by where My Chem was sitting.
"Hey guys, haven't seen you in a while." I grinned.
"It's almost like you've been avoiding us." Gerard said drily.
"Yeah, sorry." I said, dropping my gaze as Mikey stole me from Frankie.
"We're cool." Gerard grinned crookedly at me, and I grinned back. Then he pulled me away from his little brother, who was too busy arguing with Frankie to notice.
I gave Gerard a big hug, then was stolen by Gabe.
"We were having a moment!" I said indignantly.
"We can have many moments, sweetie." Gabe winked at me.
"And that makes it ok." I agreed, grinning and shaking my head.
"I have the feeling we shouldn't let Gabe steal you overnight." Bill said, kidnapping me from Gabe.
"Just how long is this game going to continue?" I asked drily.
"Until we get sick of it." Gabe blinked at me innocently.
"Well, it's pretty hard to get sick of me." I rolled my eyes.
"Whatever you say, kid." Andy said from the couch, where he and Patrick were watching with interest.
"Thanks." I made a face at him just as Pete stole me. "And where did you come from?"
"See, my mom and dad loved each other very much-" Pete began wickedly.
"NEVERMIND!" I shrieked, covering my ears as Pete howled with laughter.
"She's a screamer." Gabe snickered.
"I bet you cry." I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Ha! I told you it was obvious!" Bill yelled at Gabe excitedly, making me snicker.
Then Joe stole me from Pete and crashed on the couch with me between him and Ryan.
"We'll watch out for you." Joe nodded, smiling, and I blinked. Then I grinned, hooking my arms through theirs.
"I'll hold you to it."