Under the Giant Oak

I was standing in the kitchen putting away groceries that Pete and Patrick just got. They said it was part of their rent while they were staying here. I was quite grateful actually, I was running out of recipes for blood and beer. I was not going to use that meat. It was disgusting, and I don't even think it was meat.

Ronnie and Pete were having a field day down in the basement with some human that did something to someone that they weren't supposed to do, and Pete saw it. He told me, I just didn't really listen.

I hadn't talked to Ronnie about anything that was on the jump drive. I thought it spoke for itself, and I guess, so did Ronnie. He hadn't tried to bring it up, and I wasn't going to push him. I guess he was waiting for the right time to bring it up. I hope that was going to be a long time from now, you know, like on our death beds. Then, I could just die and it would be the ultimate excuse.

"Don't you kids have school or something?" Patrick asked coming back in the kitchen from I don't know where.

"It's Saturday. Why would we have school?" I said putting the last of everything away and starting to make something for lunch. I never cooked for four people, so this would be interesting.

"True. Do you want some help there?" He asked talking about lunch.

"Yeah, sure. I've never cooked for anybody but myself before." I said.

"Really? You never cooked for your family?" Oh, shit. Didn't think he would ask that. Come on, Max. Quick answer, good answer.

"Um. . .no." I said. Good going, Max. Very good. Ah, well close enough.

"Interesting. I remember when Ronnie was younger, he used to sit up on the counter and question ever single thing his mother would put into the dish. He'd be like 'Are you sure that goes in there like that?' or 'That doesn't look right momma. Are you following the recipe?' And his mom would always say 'Ronnie, you are a dom. Doms do not belong in the kitchen when a feritle is cooking. A fertile is always scarier than a dom when someone is in their way when they are trying to cook. Are you in my way while I'm trying to cook?' And he would fly out of the kitchen so fast. It was quite the sight."

"Oh my gosh. Are you serious?" I said through my fits of laughter. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't control. You just kept laughing and laughing and everything they said after wards just made you laugh more.

"Oh yeah, he was quite the hassle when he was younger. Sometimes Pete and his dad wouldn't let him go in the basement, and me and his mother wouldn't let him go in the kitchen, so he would just walk around the house singing some song that I don't even remember anymore until someone would let him either leave the house or let them in the designated areas."

I kept laughing as he told me more and more embarrassing stories about Ronnie when he was a kid. Jeez, he seemed like quite the problem child. Every weekend he would get in trouble, or he would get detention in school because he hit on fertiles that were older and already mated, and since he went to an all vampire school as a kid they could give him detention.

We finished lunch and just waited because Patrick said that Pete could smell food from a mile away, if he was hungry enough. And, alas in came Pete and Ronnie not even three minutes after we had finished cooking it. They both gave us equally weird looks when they saw us laughing like idiots.

"What's got you guys acting like hiennas?" Ronnie asked. I would've answered but I was laughing so hard, I could breathe.

"Nothing of your concern, boys." Patrick said once ours chuckles died down a little.

"Whatever, what's for lunch?" Pete asked.

"All you think about is food isn't it?" Patrick asked.

"That and sex. Most of the time they come together though." Pete said while Patrick started blushing like a maniac and Ronnie started making fake gagging noises. I just laughed more. Gosh, what is with me today?

"Well, are we eating or not? Because we just broke a really good streak down there." Ronnie said.

"We didn't hear anything up here. It most not have been that good." I said mockingly. It was fun to embarrass Ronnie.

"Have I ever told you how lucky I am to get one of the sarcastic ones?" Ronnie mocked back grabbing me from where I was leaning on the counter. Again, I might have made a noise similar to a squeal. He just laughed at my high pitched noise and kissed my check.

"You guys are almost as nauseating as us." Pete said smirking which made Ronnie stick his tongue out like a child.

We then proceeded to eat and talk. Well, the doms did more eating and Patrick and I did more talking. Seeing as we can actually make full sentences between bites, and they have to wolf it down like the animals they are.

Someone, me, brought up some of the lovely stories about Ronnie has a child which then made Pete and Patrick to go into full detail of all the embarrassing and funny things he has done since the age two.

"Oh, you are so dead later." Ronnie said so only I could hear while Pete and Patrick swapped stories.

"Bring it on, tough guy." I replied. he only smirked, which I admit scared me a bit. Doms don't usually give fertiles that look unless they were about to ravage them. Right now, I do not wish to be ravaged.

We continued to chat a bit, and then the boys went back down to the basement to 'finish what they started'. Patrick just helped me with some history homework that he was actually alive to see, and then commented on how we had a shit teacher because obviously she is teaching us the wrong stuff according to him.

It became closer and closer to six o'clock and I got worried because I had to work tonight, and I needed an escape plan. Fertiles weren't supposed to have jobs, but I had job, and that was against the rules. Pete could get me in trouble with the council because of it.

Thank whatever is up there though because around five thirty or whatever Ronnie and Pete came back upstairs looking sexy covered in blood, and Pete and Patrick escaped to their room.

"I need to go to work." I told Ronnie once the couple was out of ear shot.

"Ugh, why? Can't you take the night off?" he asked.

"I took the past two days off. I'm the only bartender, and I make good money. You can stay and ward off all the guys who try to hit on me, if you want."

"If you're going to that place, I'm coming with you." He said like it was obvious, and he was talking to a five year old.

"Well, then let's go." I said. I was already dressed, so we could leave right away.

We actually walked tonight, after I expressed my desire to do so. As it tums out, his house is actually closer than my apartment was, so it wasn't a bad walk at all.

Work was actually quite amusing. It's fun to see how many people Ronnie will get pissed at before he'll actually do something about it. For example, I admit I was flirting with this guy who had quite a large tab at the bar, so I was trying to sucker a huge tip out of the guy. After the guy signed the check, leaving me a very nice tip, Ronnie beckoned me over and kissed me flat on the lips for my all customers to see. Most of them were too drunk to care. They all probably thought that he was drunk too, but after about the fifth time Ronnie did that they got the memo.

We were podding back to the house in silence for a while before any one tried to break the silence.

"I don't like you working there." Ronnie said out of the blue. I stuffed my hands in the pockets on his jacket that he keeps giving me.

"Yeah well, it pays well." I used as my excuse.

"But, you don't need the money anymore."

"It's good to save up though. You never know if I'm going to need it again."

"You won't."

"Can we not talk about this? It was part of the deal. Remember? I told you I wasn't going to quit."

"What do you want to talk about then?" He asked.

"Nothing. I don't like talking. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Yeah, but I thought you would at least have something to say after your years of silence." I really didn't know what to say to that. So, I didn't say anything.

"Things are easier if you talk about them. Trust me. They are." He continued. This conversation was starting to annoy me. We've had it many different times in many different ways.

"If things are so much better after you talk about them, then why don't you tell me about your parents? You don't seem to talk about them much, and things get better after you talk, right?" I asked. I had to admit that was kind of a dick move, but i wanted him off my back, and if this was the only way, I was going to do it.

"What do want to know about them?" He asked quietly.

"Whatever you want to tell me." I said. If he didn't want to tell me anything, I wouldn't mind. He would understand how I felt after this.

"Hm, well, they were pretty cool. As you heard from Pete and Patrick, I wasn't the best child, but they were patient. My mom taught me how to cook. She said I was going to need it for the days when my fertile would become too tired, and that every fertile needs a night off every once and a while. My dad taught me everything I know about the torture industry. He even taught me how to invent new devices. That's what he did. He created torture instruments for Judas Cradle Torture, and then they let him try it out on people if he wanted." He said pausing for a second. He seemed to be picking his words carefully for some reason.

"We lived down south for a while, before we moved up here. We bought the house only two years before they died. We literally looked at every single house in the neighborhood that was for sale, and my mom would always find something wrong with it. Like I remember one house had the outlets on the wrong side of the wall or something like that. In another, the vibe wasn't right or something like that. When we stepped into our house, She was speechless. We found the only house that she couldn't critique at all. She started working on it right away. Everything in the house is exactly how she left it, even the garden. It's always funny when someone sees me gardening. They always are like 'Why is a dom gardening? Where is the fertile of the house? They must be ill or something to let him even step foot near that gorgeous garden." He chuckled.

"They died a little over a year or so ago, I think. They were killed by human vigilantes. It was the worst day of my entire life. I closed myself in the house, and just broke everything that wasn't valuable to my parents. I cursed. I screamed. I literally had a break down. Pete came all the way down from Chicago the next week, after he heard, and him and I hunted every single one of the bastards down and made sure they had slow and painful deaths. The leader is actually still in the basement. He was the one you heard screaming the other night." He said with his mood dropping. There was a small silence.

"How do you do that?" I asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"Be brave enough to tell anybody who asks all your deepest, darkest secrets and pass it off as it's nothing."

"It is nothing. My mother always used to tell me that the day that everyone told everyone else their secrets is the day that war would cease and everyone could live with each other."

"You're mother was a very smart person."

"She was." Ronnie said.

"One day, you'll tell me your secrets. I know you will. When that day comes is the thing that I can not predict, but I know it will be worth it. You're worth it." He continued.

"Secrets are there for a reason, Ronnie." I sighed.

"Yeah, but I just told you things I haven't told very many people. I kinda thought you would give me even the tiniest of things to work with."

Giving him something wouldn't kill me, would it? I'm sure it wouldn't, but then he would have something to hold over my head later. It could be beneficial or a disaster.

"You can ask me one question." I said. "Only one."

"After your parents kicked you out, why did you stop trying?" He asked. God, he asked on of the hardest questions to answer with a lie didn't he, but I guess he could tell if I was lying.

"The only people that are supposed to there for you no matter what are your parents and your mate. No matter what they are always on your side because your life would suck without them or some shit like that. Well, when someone who is supposed to want to die for you kicks you out and tells you that you are the worst thing to ever happen in the history of the world, you just shut down. Nothing in the world makes any sense anymore. Things become different. The nights become a little darker, and the sun becomes a little too bright. You just shut everything else out, and you literally die inside. There was one point where I thought jumping would be better than having to live with the mental torture of what they did." I paused for a second.

"Trying becomes the hardest thing to do, and when you have to try to try people can tell, They know that you are an easy target, and they keep kicking over and over and over again. It doesn't matter how many times you scream for them to stop. So, when you stop trying you at least admit that you are a fuck up and that the world is better off without you. I hope that no one else in this world has to figure that out. I hope no one has to admit that because no matter how evil you are, no matter what you've done to deserve it, giving up is the hardest and most painful thing that could ever happen to a person." I continued.

"That a lie you know." Ronnie said.

"What is?"

"Giving up isn't that hard. It's when you try to stand up again, that when it get really fucking hard."