Untitled (See A/N inside!)

One Month Later

“I’m all finished, Landon.”

Landon looked up from the paperwork he was sifting through. “Okay, Mel. I’ve got to finish this order up before I go. Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out, please.”

The night cashier, a fuzzy blond haired high school kid, gave him a wave as he headed out of the bookstore. Landon waited until he heard the click of the lock sliding into place before returning to his papers. He had a low, thudding headache between his eyes and his feet hurt. As much as he loved the bookstore, this manager’s position was tedious and didn’t pay near enough. Still, he was happy it was Wednesday; he had tomorrow off, and he was hoping to go thifting for a good couch in the morning. God knew his tiny, two bedroom apartment was barren enough, a couch would make it feel a little more like home. He wasn’t happy about accepting the small loan Bryce had offered him, but he really couldn’t see a choice. Bryce had confessed a great dislike for visiting Landon’s apartment, since he claimed it looked more like a junkie’s squatter’s pad than a real place to live. Landon couldn’t really argue. Hell, he didn’t even have a box spring or a frame for the mattress he slept on each night.

He’d found the apartment easily enough, and had thought at the time that the rent and utilities were affordable. Now, however, he was starting to worry a little. The money he’d grudgingly accepted from Bryce was enough to pay him up through the end of the next month, and he had some left over to get himself that couch he was wanting, but after that, what would he do? He was starting to think he’d have to find a second job.

Bryce had been talking about helping him go back to college, and although the idea appealed to him, accepting so much help from Bryce did not. They’d been seeing each other a couple of times a week, and although Bryce had, for the most part, been apologetic and humble, Landon was still wary of him. He couldn’t deny that he liked to spend time with the blond teacher, but he’d seen exactly what Bryce had meant by control issues, and it scared him a little. So he kept Bryce at arm’s length as often as he could. They watched movies together, spent a lot of time talking and taking walks, but Landon still hadn’t slept with him. He wasn’t sure what that would do to change how Bryce reacted towards him, but it felt like giving him too much power over Landon. The money was bad enough.

As he was sending off the order he’d typed out, his cell phone rang. He fumbled it out of his pocket, flipping it open without looking at the display. Bryce said he’d call to let him know if he was coming over tonight.

“Hey, you.” Landon said into the phone.

“How do you feel about Chinese food?” Bryce asked him. He could tell by the sounds coming through the phone that Bryce was driving.

“I’m rather partial.” Landon said, smiling as he gathered the papers that needed to be put away before he could leave. “Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking of bringing that over for dinner. I don’t like when you cook after working the closing shift.”

Landon smiled. “You know I don’t mind.” he said. “You don’t have to bring over anything.”

“No, but I want to.” Bryce insisted. Landon gave in, and told him what he wanted. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Movie?” Bryce suggested.

Landon agreed to this, then hung up the phone, finished the few things around the store that he needed to, and went home. He tacked a note to his door that said, “Bryce, you know where the key is!”, which was a little code for “the door is unlocked, just come in”, and then got in the shower.

When he was clean and dressed, he brushed his teeth and then ran a comb through his hair, noting that it was almost long enough to put into a ponytail. He opened the bathroom door, greeted with the smell of his dinner and the sound of Bryce rattling around in his kitchen. Smiling, he went towards the sounds.

Bryce was just turning away from the cutlery drawer, spoons and forks in one hand, when Landon walked into the kitchen. “Hey, you.” Landon greeted him for the second time that night, and accepted the small kiss Bryce pressed to his mouth. “How was your day?”

“Great.” Bryce smiled. “It was field trip day, remember?”

Landon nodded, and they sat down at the tiny café table. “Zoo, right?”

Bryce smiled and handed Landon a fork. “Ellie loves bears, apparently.”

“Always has.” Landon replied, his stomach tightening at the mention of his niece. “Her stuffed bear went everywhere with her for a long time. At least, until it lost an eye and she was terrified of taking him out of the house.”

Bryce chuckled softly. “I had a bear growing up, too.”

“I had a dinosaur.” Landon told him. “A triceratops.”

“Always gotta be different.” Bryce teased, and Landon gave him with middle finger with one hand while spooning up a wonton out of his soup with the other. He glanced around at the food laid out on the table.

“Did you get the Crab Rangoon?” he asked, and Bryce handed him the carton. Landon stuffed the wonton in his mouth and accepted the carton, noticing the look on Bryce’s face. “What?” he mumbled around the giant mouthful of food.

“You don’t have to cram everything in your mouth at once.” Bryce told him. Landon wiggled his eyebrows at him, making Bryce laugh and shake his head. “Seriously.”

Landon chewed and swallowed before replying. “Wontons subscribe to the same rule as sushi. You’re not allowed to bite them in half. All or nothing.”

“That’s bullshit, considering they come from different countries.” Bryce reached over, flipping the lid off the carton of Rangoon and taking one. “Are these good? I’ve never had one before.”

“What, seriously? They’re fantastic.” he watched Bryce take an experimental bite. “Told you.” he said, noticing the pleased flutter of Bryce’s eyelashes.

“So how was your day at work?” Bryce asked him when he finished chewing.

“Boring.” Landon said vaguely. Bryce waited for more, but Landon had nothing else to say. He simply kept eating, so Bryce decided to change the subject.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that because of you, I’m now the cause of great scandal in my family.” Bryce told him, not catching the bothered look on Landon’s face. “My brother-”

“You have a brother?” Landon asked.

“I have three brothers. And my oldest brother apparently heard about us from Phillip-”

“Who is Phillip?” Landon asked.

Bryce sighed. “Phillip is the art teacher at school, Landon. You met him about a week ago? At that coffee shop?” Landon looked confused. “Short, muscular, really cute dimples?”

“You think he’s cute?” Landon wasn’t offended, but he liked the scowl that put on Bryce’s face.

“No, his dimples are, but that’s not-” Bryce shook his head. “Anyway. Phillip plays pool with my brother Sunday nights. Their wives are good friends, and their kids play baseball together. So they were-”

“You have nieces and nephews?”

“One of each.” Bryce sighed heavily. “Landon, can I get through this story, or-”

“Well, you’re throwing out all this stuff I had no idea about, so I’m having some trouble following.”

Bryce’s mouth tightened for a moment. “Okay.” he said tightly. “I’ll explain every aspect of it in very fine detail for you so you’re not confused.”

“Don’t be condescending.” Landon told him, and Bryce slammed his fork down hard enough to rattle everything on the table. “Christ.” Landon muttered, startled.

Bryce glowered at him for a long moment, then picked up his fork again and resumed eating in silence. Landon waited to see if he’d resume the story, and when he didn’t, he returned to his own meal, a little annoyed. They continued in silence for most of the meal, and then quietly, Bryce said, “I’m sorry I got angry.” in a very small, quiet voice.

“Okay.” Landon replied, knowing he sounded like he was sulking and not really caring. “Tell me about your brother.”

Bryce sighed, and after a moment said, “He plays pool with Phillip. Phillip told him I was seeing someone. My brother-”

“What’s his name?”

“What?”

“Your brother.” Landon raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t told me his name.”

“Which one?”

Landon rolled his eyes. “The one involved in this story.”

“Oh.” Bryce shrugged. “They all are, actually. Form youngest to oldest, it goes; Christopher, Fredrick, me, then Andrew.”

“How’d you end up with an off-the-wall name like Bryce?” Landon asked. He caught the dark flicker in Bryce’s eyes and scowled. “What?”

“You keep changing the subject.”

“I’m just curious.” Landon said defensively.

Bryce sighed and pressed the tips of his fingers against his temple. “I don’t know why my mother decided to name my Bryce. Actually, I think it was a typographical error on my birth certificate. My dad says I was supposed to be named after his brother, whose name was Bruce.”

“Ugh.”

“I know.” Bryce half-smiled. “So I guess I’m glad for someone fucking up, huh?” Landon nodded. “Anyway, Andrew heard from Phillip that I was dating someone, and he asked who, so Phillip said something like, ‘some ginger kid he met through one of his students’, and somehow my brother took that to mean you’re still in high school.”

Landon stared at him. He was shocked and a little offended that Bryce thought that was funny. He couldn’t think of anything to say, and apparently Bryce missed the look on his face, because he simply went on talking.

“So my brother goes and tells Freddie that I’m cradle robbing, and I get this phone call from Freddie’s wife Emily, and she’s completely freaked out, screaming on about-”

“I’m not a ginger.” Landon said.

“What?”

“I said I’m not a ginger.”

Bryce stared at him for a long time without doing anything. Then he set his fork down and got up. “Look, Landon, it’s obvious you’re going to be a total bitch all night, so I’m just going to-”

“For fuck’s sake.” Landon snapped, tossing his fork down and pressing both hands to the sides of his head. “You are such a prick sometimes, you know that?” he closed his eyes, noticing the warning ache behind his left eye that signaled the onset of a pretty bad headache. Bryce’s hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him arm down. “Hey, what the fuck, don’t get all-”

“You take offense to everything.” Bryce looked so angry it scared Landon a little. His fingers flexed on Landon’s wrist, making him wince at the sudden painful pressure. “Why are you always so fucking defensive?”

Landon jerked his hand away, furious. “Oh, I’m sorry.” he drawled sarcastically, earning him a murderous glare from the blonde man. “I get offended because your ignorant brother starts spreading rumors about me through your family and you think it’s funny.” he shook his head. “See, to me, I just think it’s fucked up that you can find humor in your family thinking you’re a pedophile.” he got up, but when Bryce didn’t step back he didn’t have the space to get away from him. The way Bryce was standing, he was effectively cornered. “Move, Bryce. I’m done talking to you.”

“The fuck you are.” Bryce snarled at him. “I am so sick of pandering to your bullshit, Landon. Your moody, woe-is-me, pitiable act is starting to wear on my fucking nerves.”

“Get fucked, you asshole.” Landon retorted. Bryce grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, fuck you!” Landon shouted, shoving the taller man off. “You think you-”

“Shut up.” Bryce barked at him. He had stepped even closer, his face inches away from Landon’s. To get this close he had to bend a little to compensate for the height difference, and for the millionth time in his life Landon wished he was taller. “I have had it up to here with that disrespectful, foul little mouth of yours, and-”

Landon shoved past him, so pissed off he could barely see straight. “Get the fuck out, Bryce.” he yelled over his shoulder. “Now.”

“Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”

“Fuck you!” Landon slammed his bedroom door behind him, then twisted the lock and threw himself face first on the bed.

Landon wondered just what the hell he’d been thinking. Bryce had shown this side of him before. Hell, Landon knew about the therapy. Why had he thought Bryce wouldn’t act like this if they got into a fight? He knew he was overly forgiving, but this was just ridiculous.

“Landon? Please open the door.” Bryce’s voice was so calm, so smooth, that in comparison to his behavior a split second ago, it was almost creepy.

Landon rolled over onto his back and put one arm across his eyes. That aching had spread, and now he was worried that a full-blown migraine was on the way. “I thought I told you to fuck off.” he said, loud enough for his voice to go through the door.

“Landon, open the door.” Bryce still sounded calm, but that tone, the one that turned everything he said in a command, was there.

“Get fucked, Bryce.” Landon replied, sounding all cheery.

“Landon, open the fucking door.” Bryce snarled.

“That’s going to help.” Landon quipped softly. He wondered how long they could do this before Bryce either left or went nuts and broke the door. He vaguely considered calling the cops, but he was really hoping it wouldn’t come to that. He felt sick and miserable, and he just wanted Bryce to go away.

Thankfully, he got what he wanted. He didn’t hear Bryce’s voice again, but he heard him gather his things and slam the front door when he left. Sighing, Landon got up, went out into the living room, and locked the front door. Then he cleaned up the kitchen, put away the leftovers, and took some Excedrin before laying back down and pulling the extra pillow over his face. Between the headache and what had just happened between him and Bryce, sleep came slowly, and when he did finally drift off, he slept badly.

The next day he couldn’t manage to drag himself out of bed until almost noon. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, then made coffee and checked his voice messages. He had three from Bryce; he deleted them without listening to them. He wasn’t sure what he going to do about Bryce, but he knew that he wasn’t in the right mind to make any decisions either way right now. After a couple of cups and a chapter of his latest book, he felt okay enough to get dressed and head out. He had a couch to buy.

He found one immediately, at the first thrift store he walked into. It was awful, in a way; deep, rich teal colored with big claw feet and an ornately carved back frame. The tag said seventy five and after carefully inspecting it, he thought it was worth it. It was in much better condition than he’d expected to find. He found the manager and asked to buy it.

The guy gave him a curious look. “Are you serious? That thing?” Landon nodded, grinning. “We’ve got a matching wing back in the holding area, too. You want that?”

“How much?” Landon asked, his heart leaping.

The manager snorted. “Take the two side tables and we’ll call an even hundred. I‘ll be glad to get rid of them.”

“Done.” Landon said immediately, astounded at his luck. He loved furniture that bordered on tacky, always had, so long as it didn’t have any seventies feeling to it. He supposed it was just the gay in him, a comment he’d made once in college that had earned him a lecture from Zach about propagating stereotypes.

He’d given himself one hundred and fifty for the couch search, so he had money to do some extra shopping with. He found a bed frame that would fit his mattress, and even though he didn’t have a box spring, the fifteen dollar price tag persuaded him to pick it up for later. He could always store it until he could afford a proper box spring. He also found a pair lamps; awful things that were made of blue and black swirled blown glass. He loved them. He talked the manager into letting him have the whole affair for one forty, and decided to treat himself with his spare ten dollars to a cup of coffee at the café down the street. After signing the hold sheet and getting his receipt, he walked instead of drove down to the café.

He got his coffee and found a table near the window, dug his novel out of his messenger bag and settled in. He wasn’t sure yet how he was going to get his new furniture home, but he had until Monday to figure that out, and right now, he just wanted some relaxing time to himself.

Of course, he should’ve realized by now that he really never got what he wanted.

He was most of the way finished with his cup of coffee when something caught his attention through the window. It felt like someone was staring at him. His stomach did a little flip and he looked up, right into a pair of silvery gray eyes.

Suddenly, there was no air in the coffee shop.

He watched in stunned silence as Dean came inside and approached his table. He looked… well, he looked amazing. He’d obviously recently had his hair cut; it was brutally short, sharpening his already severe features. He was wearing a dark maroon button up with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and a pair of dark blue jeans, with his good boots. He stopped in front of the table, staring down at Landon, who just looked up at him, unable to say anything at all.

“Landon.” Dean said his name, but nothing else. He just… stood there. Landon wasn’t sure what to do. Was he supposed to say something? They stared at each other for a long time before Dean ventured a tiny smile, making Landon feel a little light headed. He felt like smacking himself. It’d been a whole month, and the first time he sees the guy he gets all weak kneed and stupid. He felt like an idiot.

“Can I sit down?” Dean asked gently, gesturing at the chair opposite Landon.

“Why?” Landon blurted. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to lunch.” Dean told him. It occurred to Landon that the thrift store he’d gone to was less than two blocks away from Dean’s office. That feeling of total idiocy increased. He’d brought this one himself, tempting fate like that. “I usually eat at the diner.” Dean continued. “But this place has pretty good sandwiches.” he took a seat and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “How are you?”

“Confused.” Landon said immediately, and Dean nodded, looking away. “I didn’t think we were on speaking terms anymore.”

Dean sighed. “I know.” he said quietly. “I don’t like it.”

Landon set his book down. “Dean, you were the one who said-”

“I know that, too.”

“I didn’t want to-”

“I know.” Dean looked at him, and Landon saw that under the quick anger, Dean was sorry as all hell. Landon wanted that to be a good thing, wanted it to make him feel better. It didn’t. “Can’t we just talk?” Dean asked him.

Landon sighed. He drank the last of his coffee. “I’m empty.” he said. “I wasn’t planning on staying.”

Dean leaned back in his chair and ran a hand across the bristled top of his hair. “Landon, please.”

Landon studied his brother-in-law carefully. He knew one mildly abusive, bipolar male in his life was enough. He knew that the crap between Dean and himself was so far away from being resolved that he was unsure it would ever get anywhere near comfortable. He knew it was stupid to feel guilty about anything he’d done to Dean, considering what had been done in return. He knew all of these things; he wasn’t stupid, despite how Dean made him feel most of the time. Still, he somehow managed to prove that he was pretty fucking stupid after all with his next action.

He held out his coffee cup to Dean and said, “Buy me a refill, and perhaps I can find time to sit with you.”

Dean took the offered cup, his face breaking out into a surprisingly happy grin. “Okay, Lan.” he said, and Landon flinched a little at the shortening of his name. It felt too… comfortable between them. He watched Dean get up and head to the counter, and when he was gone, he sighed and put his face in his hands.

“You are so retarded.” he muttered against his palms. “Masochist.” he sighed and dropped his hands. He busied himself with putting his book away and then pulled the receipt from the thrift store out, anxious to keep himself from just sitting there blankly.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, startling him. His brother-in-law sat down, placing the refilled coffee cup in front of Landon. “What’d you buy?”

“A couch.” Landon said, and let Dean take the receipt from his fingers.

“You’re just now getting a couch?” Dean asked, his eyebrows arching a little. Landon nodded, and Dean read the receipt. “Good deal. Is it ugly?” he grinned a little at Landon.

“Of course it is.” Landon replied, taking the receipt back. “You know it is.”

“Well, it is your couch.” Dean said, and Landon surprised himself by smiling. “How have you been?”

Landon shrugged. “Okay.” he said vaguely.

“Working?” Landon nodded. “That’s good. Can I ask where?”

“The bookstore.” Landon told him.

“That one with the stupid name?” Landon nodded again. “I see.” there was an awkward pause between them, and then Dean asked, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Landon sighed. “Kind of, I guess.”

“Bryce?” Dean asked. Landon gave him a look, and Dean nodded. “How are you two doing?”

Landon shrugged. “I don’t really want to talk about Bryce, Dean.” he said.

“Okay.” Dean studied him for a while, and Landon resisted the urge to squirm under the weight of Dean‘s eyes. “How are you going to get all that shit to your apartment?”

Landon laughed and shook his head. How the hell was Dean able to do that? It was not the first time, by far, that the older man had managed to bring up exactly what Landon had recently been thinking about. It was annoying most of the time, but right now, Landon just thought it was ridiculous. “I don’t know.” he said. “Honestly I can’t afford to rent a truck, and I don’t know anyone-”

“I have a truck.” Dean pointed out.

Landon stilled. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“You’re not comfortable with me knowing where you live.” Dean guessed.

“No. I mean, yea, but…” Landon sighed. “Listen, you and me, we’re not exactly…” he trailed off, frustrated with himself for not being able to vocalize his thoughts properly. The barista at the counter called out a number, and Dean got up and retrieved his sandwich. When he returned, Landon said, “Do you want the truth, Dean?” Dean sat there, staring at him, not touching his sandwich. Landon took a deep breath and decided to just unload it all onto his brother-in-law. He figured that at this point, things really couldn’t get any worse. “The truth is I have ex-boyfriend syndrome with you. It’s even worse considering that aside from the sleeping together part, you and I played husband and wife for months. The truth is seeing you again is like salt in a very open, infected wound. Because you were right, you know. That night you kissed me. I did love you.” he saw the expression on Dean’s face and had to look away. “And then I left, and I betrayed those girls and it feels like dying, okay? It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Most days I wish I’d never come back from Wichita. Most days, I wish my sister had never met you.” he shook his head, glaring down at his own hands. “I feel guilty for so much shit because of you. I willingly put myself in a position where I was lying to myself about everything. None of you needed me, not really. I needed to be important to someone, to anyone, so when Maddy left I just picked up what she dropped and I clung to it.” he laughed softly. “I’m a fucking idiot for what I’ve done, and who I chose to be, and in the end, I have no one to blame but myself.” He looked up finally, to find that Dean was staring absently out the window, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression blank. “So this, your want to sit and talk in a coffee shop like we’re friends, like nothing happened, it hurts, Dean. It hurts more than you can ever really know.”

Dean just sat there. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He just stared out the window with that empty look on his face. After a minute Landon started to drink his coffee. When it was gone, he picked up his messenger bag and stood up. “Thank you for the coffee, Dean.” he said quietly. “And tell the girls…” he stopped. “Don’t tell them anything. And I’m sorry.” he walked past his brother-in-law, and on impulse, he put his hand on the wide, tense shoulder nearest him as he passed.

Dean’s hand came up and caught his wrist. “Stop.” he said, sounding like he was choking. “Landon-”

“Don’t.” Landon gently pried Dean’s fingers away. “Please don’t.” he left without another word. He walked back down to where he’d left his car in the thrift store parking lot. He got in, started the car, and then just sat there. Life was funny, he thought. When one thing went badly, everything went badly. It was just his luck. He’d spent an entire month slowly but surely putting his life together, getting a job and an apartment, trying to have a relationship, trying to put the past behind him. A month wasn’t long, but he’d done so much in such a short time. And now all of this, in less than twenty four hours. Bryce goes nuts, and then Dean shows up out of nowhere to fuck his head up a little more.

“They’re emailing each other.” he muttered. “Plotting against me.” the mental image that popped into his head at this was so off-the-wall cartoony that he burst out laughing. Bryce and Dean at separate computers, each sporting huge evil mastermind moustaches, planning on how to make Landon go insane. His laughter took on a slightly hysterical tone and all at once he was crying. He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and sobbed.

The passenger side door opened and he felt the car rock with sudden weight. His head snapped up, terrified, and Dean glared at him from the passenger seat as he slammed the door shut. “Dean, what-”

“You got to talk.” Dean said firmly. “Don’t I get to say anything at all?”

“Did you follow me?” Landon asked him.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Lan, listen-”

“There’s nothing to say.” Landon said quietly.

“Bullshit.” Dean told him flatly. “You were wrong, Lan. Some of that shit you said, it was wrong. Those girls, they needed you. You have no idea…” he trailed off, scowling. “Fuck, Lan, you really think that? You really believe that my family didn’t need you around?”

Landon sighed. “You guys are getting along just fine-”

“No, we’re not.” Dean cut in. “The girls are broken, Landon. All of them.” Landon pressed his hand to his mouth, his chest aching. “Abby quit those activities of hers, all she does is lay in her room and mope. She stopped seeing Josie. Hannah’s fighting on an almost daily basis. They’re talking about expelling her. Eleanor… the sitter I hired is considering suing me because Eleanor bit her so badly she had to get two stitches and a tetanus shot.”

Landon burst out laughing against his palm, unable to help it. It wasn’t funny, he knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t help it. His brain could not handle this, and it was using laughter to vent all of its stress. “Oh, that girl.” he mumbled, then snorted laughter again.

“She started sneaking up to the attic at night.” Dean told him. “Sleeping in that fucking hammock. She won’t stop.”

Landon’s laughter cut off and he fought down the urge to vomit. “Stop it.” he whispered. “Please, Dean, stop. This guilt-trip of yours-”

“Damnit, are you even listening?” Dean asked him angrily. “Those girls fell apart worse when you left than when their own mother did. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

Landon put his face in his hands for a moment, then lifted his head and glared at Dean. “What do you want me to do, Dean?” he asked. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop acting like you didn’t mean anything to us.” Dean told him immediately. “I know it’s my fault you don’t see them, and I’m trying to tell you that I was wrong, Lan. I was really fucking wrong for what I said the day before you left.” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. The girls needed you, and I kept you from them because I was spiteful and hurting.”

Landon snorted. “Hurting?” he asked, suddenly furious with his brother-in-law. “You were hurting? Are you fucking joking me?”

Dean looked at him seriously. “You left me just as much as you left those girls, Landon.” he said. “You think I didn’t need you? You think I knew what the fuck to do after you left? You took care of us, took care of me. And then you were gone, and I just…” he looked away, scowling. “Everything’s falling apart.” he said softly. “You say you just picked up what Maddy dropped, but you’re wrong. That empty spot she left behind… you filled it better than she ever did. For everyone in that house.”

Landon shook his head. “I was a cheap fill-in, Dean, nothing more.”

Dean smiled sardonically at him. “You were an upgrade.” Landon sat there, staring at his brother-in-law for a long time. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually, Dean spoke again. “We have to sit down and talk, Landon. The girls need you in their lives. If for nothing else, then for that. You need to talk to me.”

Landon sighed and put his seat belt on. “Call in to the office.” he said softly.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, putting his own belt on.

“My apartment.” Landon replied. “You want to talk? We’ll talk. But Dean…” he looked seriously at the older man. “I can’t come home. You know that.”

Dean nodded. “So long as you understand what it means that you still call it that.” he replied.

Landon’s stomach rolled at that, but he said nothing. He threw the car into drive and attempted to stay calm enough not to get them killed on the way to his apartment.