Something Beautiful.

I think something is up with Nick, I text Shane, biting my lip as I watch it send. It says 'delivered' and after a few moments, Shane still hasn't read it so I lock my phone and let out a breath of air. My body is tense, even as I try to relax back into the couch in the game room.

It's a Wednesday evening in January; unfortunately we got back to school a week ago. This only brought us closer to Shane's graduation day, and also Nick's I guess but I don't care about him as much as I care about Shane right now. I'm kind of scared about how we're going to handle him being away. Will our relationship survive? The one he had with his old boyfriend didn't work out when he went to college, what if ours doesn't? I know it may be silly of me to think, but I seriously think I love Shane. I don't want to lose him. Not yet.

But since I got home from school and finished my homework, my focus hasn't been on my boyfriend. It's been on my brother. He's acting so strange; first off, he went straight into his room and talked on the phone to someone, though I don't know who. His voice was too low for me to understand. He was in there for two hours before he finally came out and joined me in the game room. We played Wii sports, but Nick wasn't as into it as he usually was. He was sitting down and flicking his wrist to roll the bowling ball, not even getting up like I was or making a show of it like he does every other time. So we didn't do that for long before deciding on finding a new TV show on Netflix to watch.

He sat in silence the entire time, watching the show but seeing right through it. I don't he was concentrating very hard, and he was constantly checking his phone. As if it was going to save his life here in a few minutes. Needless to say, I was worried sick about him. I know that seems dumb and all, maybe he's just having a bad day, but this is Nick we're talking about. If I was acting weird he'd be worried too. That's just our relationship.

My phone goes off, letting me know I have a text. I whip it out and check it in record time, biting my lip as I see Shane's finally replied to me.

What do you mean? He asks me, nothing else.

I sigh as I quickly reply with, He's being all quiet and won't talk to anyone. I think something is wrong. As soon as it sends, it tells me Shane's read the text, which means he has it in his hand right now. The three dots appear on the screen to let me know he's typing. Self-consciously, I look over at Nick to make sure he can't magically read what I'm saying. But he's still half-focused on the TV.

Im sure hes fine bby. Maybe hes just having an off day.

I bite my lip, letting out a huff of air. I knew Shane wouldn't understand, he doesn't have a sibling nor does he know my brother as well as I do. But I was hoping he'd know what was wrong, after all Nick's pretty close with him.

It's more than that. He's been weird for awhile. You don't know anything? I text.

Shane's reply literally takes seconds. No...

Well, that's not suspicious. What's that suppose to mean exactly? Surely if he didn't know anything he would have just flat out said no. But instead he was leading me to believe he did know something and was unwilling to tell me. Which is stupid, because he is my brother and I should know what's wrong with him. Especially if it's effecting him this badly.

Shane. is all I text, knowing he isn't that great at keeping secrets from me. Maybe I manipulate him just a little bit with a puppy-dog pout, but who doesn't do that to their boyfriends?

His reply is instant, and it makes me huff in annoyance. babes i really want to tell u, but its not my secret. nick is okay though, i promise.

I rub at my forehead, frowning. So Shane does know what's wrong with my brother, but he doesn't want to tell me. He can't tell me, according to him. Which I guess makes sense, because if Madison told me something and asked me not to tell anyone I would keep that secret. Well it more depends on what the secret is, because I might tell Shane because I sort of just tell Shane everything nowadays and if what Madison told me was not all that bad then I could tell him. I think Shane has that same mindset so if he isn't going to tell me about Nick, that means he isn't okay and it is something serious. Do you understand my frustration?

bby cmon Shane says, but I ignore his text and click the screen closed. I slide further down the couch and cross my arms over my chest, trying to not pout. I'm not really mad at Shane, I get it, but that doesn't exactly make me feel better about Nick! It's like a lose-lose.

"Trouble in paradise?" Nick asks, speaking up for the first time since he's been home. I look over at him, furrowing my brow. He shrugs, messing with his phone. "I assume you were texting Shane and now you're pouting."

"We're fine," I grumble, sinking further down. I kind of want to tell Nick it's his fault I'm pouting but that would be mean. Plus I doubt he'd tell me what's up with him any way. He's acting too weird.

From downstairs, our mom calls for dinner. Nick jumps up, acting on edge. He doesn't even look back at me as he sprints down the stairs and to the kitchen. Maybe he is just really hungry.

I follow him at a much more reasonable pace, digging my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and sighing again. Shane texts me, I can hear it beep from my pocket, but I just pull the phone out and turn it on silent. I don't want Shane to think I'm mad at him, because I'm not, but I'm too worried over Nick to deal with him. Which sounds cold but I can't do both of these things at once. Not with my head going a million-miles a minute.

Nick saved me, okay. He is my hero. He reached out when I was going downhill and pulled me back up with his strength alone. I can't even explain to Shane what Nick means to me. Even if I tried no one would understand. Sometimes I don't even think Nick fully understands what he's done for me. He made me put down the razor and stop. He made me come out of my room and join family dinner. He suggested the move and didn't let me give up after the first day. He is the one that introduced me to Shane, and Jules I guess because I do sort of love the Frenchman. Nick was the big brother he was suppose to be, but also the man he didn't need to be.

And now something was bothering my brother and I couldn't help him. After everything he had done for me, I offered no help in return. I just sat upstairs like an idiot, texting my boyfriend, and wondering why Nick was so on edge. Do you know how frustrating that is? How awful it makes me feel? It's like I'm laying in the hospital,l helpless, all over again.

I rub a hand over my face, trying to forget all the bad thoughts and focus just on dinner. I could approach Nick later tonight, after our parents have gone to bed and he's just laying in his room. He would be more likely to open up to me, I think. I hope any way.

As I sit down, Mom smiles widely and puts a good portion of spaghetti on my plate, which is okay with me. Noodles are like my favorite meal no matter how they are prepared. I think that was obvious enough with my little pudgy stomach, but I don't care about that. I just care about how good food tastes. No way am I going to sacrifice that just to look like Shane. Although Shane eats like as if he has an endless stomach and still manages to keep his sexy body by running every morning. But I'm not about to start running. Not my thing. So I'll just keep my pudgy belly because it keeps me warm in the winter.

I shake my head, wondering where these random thoughts are coming from. First I'm worried over Nick and then I'm thinking about my fat intake. I guess that's one way to distract myself from my brother.

"Think you're ready for the game tomorrow?" Dad asks around forkfuls of dinner. Nick looks up from his half-eaten plate, a slow blink following as if he didn't catch what our dad says. That makes him frown, but he repeats himself nonetheless.

"Oh," Nick says thoughtfully, blinking slowly again. He twirls his fork in his meal but doesn't take a bite as he shrugs noncommittally. "Guess. Trevor's being switch out at starting post with Miller." He says, and although I don't know who those people are our dad seems to. It's sad I don't because some of them are probably in my grade, but there's only three people on the varsity team I could tell you the names of and one of those are my brother. I should care more about my fellow classmates, but I just don't.

"Really?" Dad seems interesting in this, scooping him more spaghetti. Mom is staring at my brother in the same way I am, beginning to catch the drift something is up. Dad just keeps playing along though with the façade that there isn't anything wrong with his oldest son. "Kid blocked a couple people yesterday but I didn't think he was starting material."

"Me neither," Nick frowns thoughtfully, putting down his fork altogether. He'd only gotten a third of his plate eaten, and usually he ate three helpings of the stuff. Besides he needed some good carbs for the game tomorrow; he usually plays the entire time, unless they're dominating the other team and put some of the players in that don't get a lot of time. "At least it's not me being replaced."

Dad laughs at that, as if the situation is unheard of. I look at the man, wondering how he can act as if nothing is wrong when Mom's over there on the edge of her seat, dying for a chance to speak up. I'm sitting beside Nick and I can barely handle it; so much for dropping the worry until later tonight. Nick is just being so weird. I don't like it at all.

"I don't mean anything about your team, Nick," Dad says seriously, pointing his fork across the table. A small smile pulls at the corner of Nick's lips that is actually genuine, and for some reason that action makes me feel like whatever is bothering him can be fixed. "But you're the best one on the team. Saw a scout from Buffalo State talking to your coach. I was quite impressed he was there, son... Any thought on that?"

This is where Nick's face loses all color and his Adam's apple bobs in a harsh swallow. I blink and then it dawns on me that maybe he's nervous because he's made plans for what he wants to do with college, and just hasn't told our parents yet. I know it's a nerve-wracking thing and I know he's applied to a handful of schools, just as I know a couple scouts from different D3 schools have talked to him. And that means I'm literally worrying over nothing. Sure, I want Nick to got to a good school and have a good opportunity and everything, but it's his life. I have no say in what he does and I'll support him even if he goes to school in somewhere awful like Texas. I'll miss him but I'll support him.

I really hope he is just worried about telling us where he has decided to go to school. That would make me feel so much better.

"About that," and his voice cracks, making his clear it. He picks up his fork and plays with his food again, cheeks gaining color rapidly as he blushes like an idiot. He sort of reminds me of myself; I don't see Nick blush often but he resembles a tomato right now.

"Nick," Mom says, sitting closer to the table. I see her hand twitch as if she wants to reach across and take his hand, but she refrains. She probably doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. "What is it?"

When Nick doesn't say anything, my parents cast a glance at me. At this point, they expect me to know what's wrong with Nick. But I can't for the life of me figure out what it is. He hasn't talked to me and sure, he's seemed secretive lately, but I never thought it was something to worry over until today. He wasn't acting like my brother and now my parents were clued in on that fact. But Nick was too busy fidgeting to talk.

"Nick," Dad speaks up, voice firm. Nick's eyes flick up to him before moving back down to his plate. "Speak up. What's going on? Have you already talked to another scout and decided you want to go there?"

"Yeah," Nick says, voice low. "Kind of."

Dad's grinning all of a sudden, laughing lightly as he sets his fork down. He reaches across the table and hits Nick lightly in the arm, but I don't think Nick is done talk. Mom must realize this too because she stays perfectly still.

"I've been talking to a few recruiters," he says, and with those words our dad's face falls. I know it's not the first time he's heard those words come out of the mouth of someone he loves. And the last person who said them isn't here any more. A lump forms in my throat as Nick takes a deep breath, looks up and into our dad's eyes, and continues talking. "Scouts too I guess you could call them... I think I'm going to play for the Air Force Academy. Get free schooling and get to play ball."

It's completely silent for all of two seconds before our Dad pipes up. "You think or you know?"

Nick clears his throat, maintaining steady eye contact with our father whose face has gone stony. My heart is beating erratically in my chest. "I know, Dad," he lets out a slow breath of air. "It's a great opportunity.. And- And I know-"

"You stay for a couple years, you'll be expected to serve in the military," Mom finally speaks up. My eyes snap to her, but she isn't mad. Or upset even. She has a gentle smile on her face, an understanding one, and this time she does reach her hand across the table to lay over Nick's. For some reason, this reminds me of when I came out. Only this time I'm the silent brother while Nick tries to talk and our parents try to comprehend.

I almost think Nick's experience is scarier than mine.

"I know," Nick says, clearing his throat. I watch his knuckles whiten as he grips Mom's hand. "I want to serve. It's- It's scary, yeah, but. But there's so much to fight for, and so many men fighting for my rights and I just. Why shouldn't I join them? I'm able. I'm fit. I'm proud and... I can play ball, sure, which is something that astounds me. But I also will be a part of a cause that is bigger than myself, and in a way, I feel like I'm honoring Uncle Mike... You know he always told people it was the best decision he ever made. If he was here-"

"If, he was, but he isn't." Dad winces and shakes his head. Mom quickly reaches out to take Dad's hand too, the mediator between the two. Dad takes a shaky breath. "Nick, I- I'm so proud. The Air Force Academy wants you to play ball for them? But Mike was in the Air Force too and he- Nick I can't lose you-" he stops, unable to finish. I can feel myself choking up as I watch my dad's eyes water and the way his shoulders slowly concave. Mom desperately tries to keep him from falling apart.

"Dad you can't think of it like that," Nick says, surprisingly strong. I knew Nick was a proper boy, who didn't cry about anything and stood his ground. But even I was wavering just seeing my dad trying to control his emotions. In guess in this way, Nick was like Mom, who sat there and held Dad and held Nick's hand and smiled encouragingly. I'd never really admired either of their strengths like I am now. "What happened with Mike it- You can't say I'm going to serve our country and it'll be the same outcome. Because it might and it might not, and we just can't think of it like that. I'll have four years of education and training behind me and I'll make it fine out there. Dad you can't. You can't think of it that way."

"I know," Dad chokes, clearing his throat and shaking his head rapidly. When he finally stops, he seems to have controlled his tears and gives a slight smile. "Nick, you're an adult. I can't force you to make a certain decision. I can't make you do anything." He chuckles, but I think it's his attempt to keep himself from sobbing. I don't know how I'm not bawling my eyes out yet. Especially with dad acting like this, but my brain is a bit fuzzy at the moment, thoughts swirling together. "I'm so unbelievably proud of you, son. For everything you've done for your brother to everything you're doing now. You're a real man."

Nick grins so wide I'm afraid his face will break. Dad chuckles again, watery, and shakes his head at his oldest son. I want to coo out loud at the two men but refrain because it might offend them. I think it was the feminine part inside me that wanted to just clap and awe. But Mom actually goes make a small noise similar to a coo before saying, "My boys."

"Hey," I joke, finally piping up. Everyone looks at me, seeming to have forgotten I was even at the table. I smile sheepishly before saying, "Are you grouping me as your daughter?"

Everyone laughs, and I'm glad I could somehow make the tension in the room disappear. It feels me with pride as Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand, rolling her eyes dramatically. Nick pipes up with some gay joke that puts our father in fits; I don't let it offend me because I know that's not how he meant it. Besides, at least there's laughing now instead of crying.

"I think I should break out the ice cream," Mom muses, standing from her place and taking my plate. Just when I'm about to offer my help, Dad stands as well and offers his own, taking Nick's plate and his own into the kitchen. I watch them go, blinking slowly as it gets quiet in the house.

Nick turns to me then, mouth twisted as his eyes ask a thousand questions. I smile uneasily at him, wondering what he wants me to say. As he just keeps staring at me I know I have to say at least something, because it's apparent he needs to hear whatever it is, so I take a deep breath and hope it's the right thing.

"Nick," I start and then stop, taking a few moments to gather my thoughts. I reach out and rest my hand on his forearm, but Nick just keeps staring at me. Waiting. "Look, it's your life and your decision what to do. You know I'll support you no matter what, even if no one else does. And I'm here if you wanna, like, talk about it but I know you're a macho man who doesn't like to talk about his feelings."

Nick laughs and I know it was the right thing to say, so I release a breath and smile back at him. "I love you, bro," I say, squeezing before letting his arm go.

"Yeah, whatever," he rolls his eyes at me. "Don't get all chick-flick moment on me." I know that's his way of saying he loves me too, so I let it drop.

Well, not without gasping dramatically, "Well Dean Winchester," and Nick laughs loudly at the reference I made.

I smirk to myself when Mom comes back in the room, though she's alone. She carries three bowls and a sad sort of smile, her hair messy on her head which makes me wonder what exactly went on in the kitchen. I don't think it was anything, like, coupley though because Dad doesn't follow behind her. In fact I don't think he's even in the kitchen any more.

"You're father went back to our room," she says softly, setting the bowls down. I blink, feeling my heart break because it's obvious as to why he went back there. But Mom just smiles sadly. "Needs a bit of time by himself, I think."

Nick's frowning, but then he shakes his head and stands up. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Nick-" She starts to warn.

"Mom," he says sharply, something we usually don't get away with, but tonight our mom's silent. "We have to get this conversation out of the way or else we'll be walking eggshells around each other. This is my decision and he has to understand that."

"Okay," she whispers, smiling sadly as Nick turns and walks away, leaving his bowl of ice cream sitting there. I stare at her awkwardly when she finally looks back at me, a sad smile on her face. She reaches out and rests her hand on my arm, squeezing. "Mother daughter time now." She jokes. I roll my eyes, muttering for her to shut up. She just laughs and says, "I think that was enough drama for tonight."

I'm about to agree because I think she's right, when the door bell rings throughout the house. I frown and when Mom asks if I was expecting any one, I tell her no. She goes to get the door and while she's gone, I get my phone out. I have five new unread messages from Shane, which makes me frown instantly and a big knot form in my stomach. So much for no more drama...

I'm just opening the texts when Mom says, a bit startled, "Noah, come here!"

I get up without a second thought, afraid there's some robber at our door. Which I wish there would have been, because it would be a lot better than seeing my boyfriend standing there, red-rimmed eyes in a huge sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. My stomach drops to my ankles because I've never in my entire life seen Shane like this. His hair is messed up and there's obvious tear-tracks on his cheeks and just the sight of him makes me want to cry too.

"Shane?" I ask but then my curly-haired boyfriend is shaking his head rapidly, a choked sob escaping his mouth as my mom gasps from behind me, still there.

"I didn't- You weren't answering-" He runs a shaky hand through his hair and I pull him inside without thinking, heart hammering like a humming bird in my chest at the way he dry-heaves and then gasps out, "I know you're mad at me but- I didn't know where- I couldn't- Jules-" He drily sobs again.

"Shane," I whisper, my mind frantically trying to figure out what could make my boyfriend act like this. I press my hands against his chest, staring up at him and forcing him to make eye contact. I can see tears threatening to spill as he scrubs at his cheeks again.

"It's just," he huffs, taking a deep unsteady breath. "Tiger died! She just- I was-"

Oh. Oh. Oh my god, Shane. That's the only thing running through my head as I grip his hands in mine and yank him towards the stairs. He follows after, stumbling a bit but managing to keep up. I don't want to have this conversation or have him crying in the middle of the living room, especially with my brother and Dad having their own serious conversation in the other room.

When we get to my room, I push him onto my bed before following after him. Shane's already crying, pressing the sleeves of his hoodie to his eyes as a choked sob escapes his lips. I settle beside Shane and put my arms around him; he doesn't resist. I know some people don't want to be touched when they cry, but fortunately Shane isn't one of those people. He moves so close to me, he's practically on top of me, one of his legs hitching over my hips and his gangly arms wrapping around my back as he buries his face in my shoulder. It's a bit of an awkward situation for me, but I push that away.

I have never seen Shane cry. Not since we've been together and not since we've been friends. He's not emotionless, he's quite in sync with his emotions. You always know when Shane is happy or upset, at times he can even wear his heart on his sleeve. But he's never been like this, so broken and upset, heartbreaking sobs breathed into my shoulder as he shakes in my arms. I wonder if this is what Shane felt like when I cried in front of him; so helpless and heartbroken. I didn't want to see Shane like this ever again. I couldn't handle it. But I had to be strong for him right now, because it was obvious Tiger's passing was tearing him up inside.

I rub my hands over his back, wishing he wasn't so much larger than me so I could properly hold him, the way he would hold me. But I settle with what I can do, my fingers scratching at his shoulder blades and raking up through his hair. I shush him quietly, closing my eyes as I realize how broken he is right now.

I never liked the girl much, she was a dog and dogs terrified me, but I knew Shane loved her. From the little I knew, he'd had her since he was five and she was like his baby. She was all of their babies I think, even his parents. And she was a nice girl, I'd touched her that one time and then a week ago when I went and saw Shane, he didn't even put her up. She was up and walking around and she licked my fingers. Like I said, I didn't like her exactly, but she didn't scare me so much any more. And now she was dead. Shane's baby was dead. I used to have a cat that died and it was devastating. Granted I'd been ten but Shane had even more of a connection with Tiger and now she was just gone. I understand why he was so upset, I just wish he wasn't.

Shane breathes through his mouth, his wet and moist exhale hitting my neck. I want to gag but I refrain, knowing the last thing he wants is for me to pull away. The collar of my hoodie is soaked but I don't care about that. All I care about is Shane and if he is going to be okay. For the first time since we've known each other, I'm the one comforting him. Shane came to me to take care of him, and that means so much to me.

This isn't about me, though. It's about my hurt boyfriend. He's the main focus right now.

"I knew she was going to-" his voice breaks, but he keeps going any way, not pulling his face away from mine. "It was only a matter of time. But she- she just- I was calling for her because it was time for her to go out and. And she wasn't coming so I started looking for her and she was just- just laying there. On the couch. And my mom was bawling and even my dad was tearing up but I couldn't- I couldn't make myself cry even though I-I couldn't even touch her. And- you weren't texting me back and I knew you were mad at me but I couldn't- Jules wasn't who I wanted- I had to come to you because-"

"Shane, hush," I silence him again, rubbing my hand down his spine and using the other to play with his hair. Shane lets out another sob and clings to me tighter, attempting to curl his large body into my smaller one as much as he can. His weight is baring down on me but I push my own discomfort away. I don't matter right now. "Babe, I'm not mad at you. I never was, I was just frustrated. But that doesn't matter, okay? I'm so sorry Shane, I'm so sorry."

"Me too," he whimpers, pulling his face away from my neck.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" I ask softly, staring into his big hazel eyes. They're red-rimmed and puffy, his eyelashes sticking together, and his cheeks are bright red with tear-tracks evident. To be honest he looks pitiful, and it absolutely breaks my heart. I wipe at his tears with my thumb, smiling sadly.

"For showing up out of the blue," Shane sniffs, his tears finally slowing down. He stays curled up into me but removes one of his arms from their vice-grip, rubbing at his cheeks as he hiccups. I almost coo but manage to refrain. "It's just- It's so hard. She was- She was like my baby and- I know you don't understand. But she saved my life."

"Sh," I run a hand through his hair, leaning forward to kiss his wet cheek. Shane's eyes close so I kiss the back of his eyelids, tasting the salt of his tears on my lips. I press my nose against his, feeling triumph at the tiny smile that makes him emit. I lay head on the pillow beside him, waiting until his eyes open before I smile encouragingly at him. "I don't understand, baby," I say, the term of endearment coming out on it's own in hopes to make Shane calm down. "I'm so sorry."

Shane sniffs before whispering brokenly, "There's something I have to tell you." His eyes squeeze shut suddenly, so he doesn't seem my confused face. His arm is back around my back as he fists my hoodie and buries his face back in my shoulder, shuddering in what I think is fear. "I haven't been completely truthful- I mean. It's. I-"

"Shane," I say soothingly, running my hands over his shoulders. "What is it, huh? You can tell me anything, I mean it, babe."

I wait patiently, for what feels like ten minutes. Shane is still curled so close into me, legs tangled with mine and hands fisting my shirt. He slowly pulls his face away from my shoulder, laying it beside mine so our noses are only inches apart. He stares at my nose though, refusing to look me in the eye. And I wait until he finally takes a deep breath and explains it to me.