Words You Wouldn't Say

Max walked into the office where his sister worked, two sandwich bags in his hands. He nodded at the receptionist, who gave him a little wave and nodded toward the door that led to his sister's office.

She looked up at him as he walked in and smiled, thanking him as he set the sandwich down in front of her. She leaned back in her chair as he sat across from her, leaving his own sandwich on the desk. "I wasn't sure you were gonna come," she said.

"Yeah, well," he mumbled. "When my boyfriend and my sister conspire behind my back, I'm not left with a lot of choices." She gave a small sigh.

"We weren't conspiring, Max. Mike is worried about you. I'm worried about you." Max rubbed his neck and grabbed his sandwich, looking down at it with no appetite. Amalia sighed and looked down at her paperwork. "We just figured it'd be easier for you to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk," he said without looking up. "I already talked about it."

"In court, sure," she agreed. "That's not gonna help you, not when he was sitting right there." Max rubbed his face. "You're still having nightmares."

"I might always have nightmares!" he erupted. "I might always sleepwalk and I might always burst into tears at the mere mention of his name and I might always be fucked over because I nearly got fucking murdered, Amalia, and I'm well within my god damn rights to act like this!" She leaned back in her chair again, studying him, and he looked away.

"So that's why you don't want to talk," she said eventually. "You're afraid it won't help. You think you're gonna bare your soul and it's not going to get better." He took a bite of his sandwich, but he couldn't taste it. "But Max, it's not going to get better if you don't talk about it. It'll only get worse." He chewed threw the bite and set his sandwich down again. "You won't get better immediately, and yeah, maybe the nightmares won't stop, but maybe they will, Max."

He bit into his sandwich again and she sighed, starting to eat her own. Silence stretched between them as they ate and she propped her feet up on her desk, cleaning her mouth with a napkin as she finished.

After a few seconds, he said, "I remember him leading me to his home, now." She looked up at him and pulled her notebook into her lap. "It was like I didn't have a mind of my own, whatever he said, I did." He closed his eyes. "I remember his voice sometimes, when I'm playing with Otis or doing the laundry. I just wish he'd go away."

"He's locked away for life," she reminded him. "He's not nearly smart enough to break out."

"I'm not afraid of him breaking out," Max said. "Maybe if he had a partner, or something..." In his mind's eye, he could see and hear everything that had happened in those twenty-four hours. As he thought over everything, his eyes snapped open and he jolted forward, surprising his sister. "He wasn't alone."

"What?" she asked, startled.

"He wasn't alone. Jace. Someone was with him. Someone helped him get me to his house and on the table." He felt his hands shaking as his eyes went wide. "Someone was helping him kill me."

"Who?" Amalia demanded. Max shook his head, unsure. "Max, you have to tell the police." He swallowed, dread filling him. "You're going to tell the police, right?"

"They didn't find anyone else's prints at his house," he mumbled, staring at his feet. "They're not gonna reopen the case because of my shoddy memory." He stood and started to pace, hands wringing together in front of him.

"You have to tell someone," Amalia said.

"I can't trust anyone," he responded. She dropped her head into her hands.

"This hasn't helped you at all," she mumbled, sitting back. "You can't do that, Max. Don't use this as an excuse to withdraw even further. Tell the lawyer who put Jace behind bars, or something. If you're not open, it's going to haunt you, Max."

He swallowed, looking away again. "Who's going to take me seriously when I don't even know who it was? Whoever it was hasn't tried to hurt me again - wouldn't bringing attention to them prompt them to target me?" Amalia rubbed her temples.

"I don't know, Max. But what if they attack you anyways?" He bit his lip and lifted his gaze to meet hers. "I want you to be safe."

"I'm safe at home," he replied. "In a few weeks the semester will end and I won't need to leave the house again."

"And what about when Mike goes on tour?" He stared at her in surprise. "He told me he'd be leaving. And you'll probably be staying with the kids."

Max started to pace again. "I'll be fine." He closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face. "I'll tell the DA. Later. Right now, I just want to go home." She nodded then and put her notepad away.

"I'll take you home, then." She stood and led the way to the parking lot and Max followed, climbing into her car without a word. She didn't say much as she drove him back to the home he shared with Mike. As she pulled into the driveway, she put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. "Please, Max. We're here for you. Don't withdraw from us."

After a few seconds he nodded and she let her hand fall. He gave her a short goodbye and got out of the car, pulling out his key and walking into his home. Otis called out to him and stood, holding himself up by the coffee table. Max smiled and cooed to him, holding out his hands. Otis took a few shaky steps, still holding on to the table, then let go and started toward him. He managed three steps before he fell and stared at Max, bewildered. Max gave a short laugh and stepped over, picking him up.

"He's been asking for you," Mike said from the doorway of the kitchen. Max glanced up at him and looked down at Otis, who babbled at him. "How'd it go with your sister?" Max thought back to his revelation. If Mike knew, he'd probably freak out and make Max go with him on tour or not go at all.

He shook his head. "We talked about it. She told me that it couldn't get better if I didn't talk about it with someone, and she was right. So I talked." Mike nodded slowly and walked over.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have forced you into that."

Max smiled slightly and pressed his forehead against Mike's. "You were doing what you thought you had to do to help me, Mike. I'm sorry I was such an ass." Mike wrapped his arm around Max, smiling when Otis grabbed at his shirt.

"Anna called this morning," Mike said, pulling away and walking into the kitchen. Max followed, taking a sniff at what Mike was cooking for dinner. "She got the due date. We'll be out on tour when the baby's supposed to come." Max nodded slowly. "There's something else."

Max paused at his tone of voice and raised his eyebrow. "Am I not going to like this something else?"

Mike gave a short sigh and leaned back against the counter, watching Max warily. "She wants to meet you." Max's expression went blank. "I mean I wasn't going to lie to her about who's helping me with Otis, and you're going to be taking care of the new baby while I'm away."

"We are talking about the same person who said she'd rather I was murdered than sleep in your house, right?" Mike ran his hand through his hair.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "And you don't have to be nice to her for it, but I can't just take her kids and not let her know they're in good hands." Max set Otis in his high chair and leaned against the fridge, staring at Mike. "Besides, she seems better now. Less on edge. I think it'll be okay. I mean, she called me."

"Okay, okay," Max said. "I'll meet her. But she better apologize." Mike chuckled softly and stepped over, pressing a kiss to Max's forehead and turning to the food. "When is this gonna happen? Where?"

"We're gonna meet up at a restaurant tomorrow."

"Public, good." Max nodded and grabbed some of Otis' baby food from the fridge, starting to feed the babbling baby. Mike brushed his hand over the small of Max's back. "Just remember, this was your guys' idea."

Mike chuckled softly. "Okay."

*

Max stared at the restaurant they were supposed to meet Anna at, arms wrapped around Otis as Mike grabbed his baby bag from the back. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked quietly.

"No," Mike said, "which is why I invited them." He nodded toward the parking lot and Max turned to see Chester and Talinda climbing out of their car. He couldn't help the relieved smile that crept onto his face. Chester grinned back at him and waved as he stepped over and Talinda smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm glad to see you're looking better," she said as their group moved into the restaurant. He gave her a small smile. "You've stopped bleeding?"

"Yeah," he responded with a nod. "The doctor said I can stop wearing the bandages completely in a few days."

"Good," she said, a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're better." They were led to a table and they sat and waited. Max glanced through the menu as Otis played with a spoon, laughing at the sounds it made as he banged it against the table.

Anna walked in as the waiter served them their drinks, and she smiled at everyone as she sat down across from Max. Max's hands wrung in his lap as he watched her interact with the others, and then Mike cleared his throat and said, "Anna, this is Max." Her gaze turned to him and she gave him a slow smile.

"Hi Max. We met briefly before." He nodded. "You've been taking care of Otis, I hear."

He nodded again. "I babysat for a while to help pay my bills. Took care of kids of all ages." She studied him, fingers tapping against the table.

"He's not alone, though," Chester said. "Talinda helps out, and so does his mom. Sweet old lady, that one." Max gave Chester a look and Chester laughed. "Hey, remember when I used to flirt with your mom when you were in high school? She'd get so flustered."

Max groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You always were her favorite. She said you made her feel young again." Chester laughed again, placing his arm along the back of Talinda's seat. Talinda gave him a look and his expression went flat.

"She definitely wasn't as pretty as you," he said solemnly. Max couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from his mouth, and he began to retort when Otis banged his spoon against the fork that went with it. Max flinched and ducked away, a wild memory of the sound of a knife falling to the floor and splattering blood across his jeans making his eyes slam shut.

"Max," Mike called, and he felt hands covering his own. Mike whispered urgently into his ear, trying to pull him back from where his mind had gone. "It's okay, it's okay. It was just Otis, you're here, you're with me. You're safe, Max, you're safe." Max took a deep breath, trying to pull himself away. He remembered his sister's advice, to take a deep breath for seven seconds, hold it for eight, and let it out in four.

He did this several times and as his focus came back he heard Anna ask, "What happened?"

There was a silence and Talinda said from beside him, "Maybe you should wait and ask him first." Max took in a deep breath again and sat up, hands wringing in his lap again. He didn't meet Anna's gaze as Mike took one of his hands into his own lap and squeezed with both hands, refusing to let go. Talinda had taken the silverware from Otis.

After a few seconds, Anna asked tentatively, "Are you alright, Max?" He lifted his gaze to meet Anna's, stared at the worry plain on her face.

He swallowed and said, "A month and a half ago, I was almost murdered." Her face paled and he couldn't help but feel a little satisfied at her expression. "I'm usually okay. I was just caught off guard."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know." Of course you didn't know, Max thought idly, but he didn't say anything, just lifted his eyebrow a little bit. She dropped her gaze and he dropped his own. Mike's hands squeezed his lightly.

"Are you sure," she started tentatively, "that you'll be able to handle this?" Max looked back up at her and curled his hand around Mike's.

"Absolutely positive. It won't affect my ability to take care of Otis or the new baby at all." She seemed unsure, but she said nothing else.

Max looked down at Otis, who was staring at his mother. After a few seconds, he lifted his hands toward her. She noticed this and shifted uncomfortably. His hands fell after a few seconds and his bottom lip trembled, but before he could start to cry Anna stood, walked over and picked him up.

Max pulled his hand from Mike's lap, watching as Otis babbled at Anna. She smiled slightly and sat back down in her seat with him. The conversation around the table resumed, and Max kept his eyes on Chester and Mike as they talked about the upcoming tour.

When the food arrived, Anna set Otis back into his chair and sat down, turning her attention to Max, who had stuck his fork into his pasta. "So Mike will be on tour, when the baby comes." Max nodded, looking up at her. She took a deep breath and looked down at her food. "I'd like you to be there instead."

Max's gaze flicked to Mike, who was purposefully keeping his gaze down. Max pinched at his side and turned back to Anna, who had looked back up at him. "Are you sure? I mean..."

"You're going to be taking care of it," she said firmly. "I think you should be there." He swallowed and nodded. She turned back to her food, as easily as if she'd asked him what time it was, and he turned back to his own, picking at it and eating slowly.

After a while, Anna said she had to go. She excused herself, kissed the top of Otis' head, and left the restaurant. Otis watched as she left, and when she didn't return, he started to cry. Max picked him up quickly, shushing him gently, but Mike took him, telling Max to finish his food.

Max took a deep breath and glanced at Chester, who gave him a comforting smile. "That went better than expected." Max gave a short laugh and looked down at his food. Suddenly, he felt his appetite return to him, and he wolfed down the food.

Chester paid the bill, despite multiple protests from Mike about how he'd invited them to eat and not the other way around. He waved Mike off and stood, helping Talinda up. Talinda waved goodbye and followed Chester out of the building.

Max finished his food in silence, and when Mike stood Max followed. Mike's fingers found his and didn't let go, and Max couldn't help his small smile.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked. Max glanced up at him.

"No," he said quietly. "But I will be."