Chapter 9A

Thanks to Jim for editing!

Tiredly, Frank leaned over the side of the boat, staring at the dark, glistening surface of the water as it passed over his hand, his fingers leaving a small wake next to the boat. The sound of the engine was no more than a hum in his ears now, and the setting sun cast an orange hue in the air that left him feeling a little too warm, and even more so disoriented as they circled one cove after another.

Frank was feeling awkward with his company. Asking who Oliver was had been a mistake. At least, it seemed that way when the boy's only response was to sulk as he guided the boat around the lake. Oliver didn't seem to be taking them anywhere specific, which suited Frank just fine. He was content touring the water for a while. He just wished that he could feel as comfortable with Oliver as he had last week.

Frank was startled so badly he nearly jumped out of the boat when Oliver made a sudden move towards him. It was difficult to know what he should think when the other boy grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand out of the water. Frank jerked away from him, pushing him back into his seat.

"What the hell..." Frank started, but was quickly cut off by Oliver's concerned voice.

"I'm sorry, Frank," he sad, cutting the engine and leaving them in silence except for the water sloshing against the sides of the boat. He pointed out at the water, about two feet away.

Frank looked, still frowning until he saw something just beneath the water. It was long, dark, and moved like a raised flag as it slithered beneath the surface. Leaning over the side for a better look, it took him a moment to realize that it was a snake he was looking at.

"Those have poison," Oliver said. "I thought you were gonna touch it, Frank."

Frank watched the snake disappear, turned back to Oliver, and let out a breath. He felt like an idiot. Thanks to the hurt look on Oliver's face, a sorry idiot. Frank didn't know what he'd been thinking. Obviously, he was on edge for many reasons, but this wasn't the time to release his frustrations. Oliver wasn't the right person to release them on. "Listen," he said, feeling exasperated. "There's... there's some really weird shit going on around here, and I don't know if I can..."

"Are you mad at me, Frank?" Oliver interrupted, looking as if that was the only thing in the world that concerned him at the moment. In fact, he looked almost terrified of the answer, and suddenly, the last thing Frank wanted to do was disappoint him.

"No. Not at you, Oliver," Frank said, although he probably could debate that with himself for a while. "It's... the situation." Frank paused, collecting his thoughts. When he met Oliver's eyes again, he decided to be blunt. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Oliver scratched at his head, looked down at the water as if it was supposed to tell him how to answer.

"Tell you what, Frank?"

Frank groaned. "Okay, that--that, makes me angry."

"Don't be angry, Frank," Oliver whispered.

"Then tell me the truth! Why didn't you tell me about David? Why did you let me think..."

"I did, Frank! I did. I told you about David all the time!"

"No, that's not... I know you talked about... god. Damn it! You let me think you had a brother!" Frank blurted. "And you let me worry--you let me think..." Frank stopped himself and rubbed tiredly at his face. He was beginning to feel dizzy. Nauseous. His head ached and his emotions were in turmoil. He was damn sure that the long walk from town to home wasn't helping any. He felt himself sway and closed his eyes briefly before he felt a hand grip his upper arm, followed by Oliver's voice.

"Frank!"

Catching himself against the rocking boat, Frank looked to see that Oliver was next to him now, steadying him. "I'm talking about him like he's real," Frank mused. "David's not real."

Oliver's eyes widened, as if he'd just been betrayed. "No, Frank. You're wrong, and he won't like that."

Frank laughed, not knowing what else to do. "You mean you won't like it. Your parents told me, Oliver. I know the truth."

"David..."

"No!" Frank snapped, causing Oliver to recoil. "He's not real! Just stop lying to me and tell me the truth!"

Oliver took in a deep, shaky breath, pulling at his hair some more as he shook his head. His following outburst wasn't at all what Frank was expecting. "You're wrong! He's not a lie, Frank! He's real! He's real!... They're wrong! You're all wrong." Oliver gasped, covering his mouth as if to catch it. "They took away his things, Frank. They took it all away, and told me I couldn't talk to him anymore. But it's not the truth. He's real."

"Where?" Frank demanded. "If he's real, then where is he? Where is he?"

"Here!" Oliver shouted, holding his head. "Here is the truth, Frank. And here..." he suddenly fell calm, bringing his hand to rest over his heart. I love... I love my brother, Frank. And that's the truth. It's the truth! Why, Frank?" Oliver asked, looking desperately to his friend. "Why are they taking him away? You said... you said we'd be safe, Frank. You said it!"

A sudden flashback of being submerged in total darkness sent a chill up Frank's spine as he faced Oliver, who at some point had latched onto his wrist until his knuckles turned white. Frank was suddenly at a loss when it came to what to say. Had to close his eyes for a minute. "That was before... I thought..." Frank was having trouble. Back in the Martin's basement, he had told Oliver that everything would be okay. But that was when he'd thought that Oliver and David had been suffering inexcusable abuse. What he'd learned from the Martins changed that. The parents weren't the ones who were a danger. David was. "Don't you get it, Oliver? All David does is hurt people." Frank stared down at the water, frowning for long moments before his eyes suddenly snapped up to Oliver's. "Do you remember the cat? It was dead. You said that there were some things we weren't supposed to see. Remember, Oliver? Were you talking about David? Oliver..."

Oliver shook his head, and wiped at his eyes before they had a chance to water. "Why are you doing this, Frank? David's not bad... he tries. He tries. He is my brother! He couldn't be anyone else, Frank!"

He's you, Frank thought, feeling exceptionally depressed about it. But, even as he thought it, seeing the expression on Oliver's face made him question whether or not Oliver actually knew it. The realization cautioned him to be careful. It wasn't as if he'd stuck around to ask the Martins exactly how this thing worked last week, but it was clear that Oliver was agitated. The idea of him becoming agitated enough for David to emerge was enough for Frank to dial it back a few notches. He had to admit that he was curious about what happened when they switched, but he didn't want to satisfy that curiosity over the murky water of a secluded cove. And, he could admit that Oliver played a part in his decision to calm down, too. Seeing him so upset was only upsetting Frank more. He felt frustrated, guilty, and furious over it all at the same time. The way that Oliver caught a single tear beneath his reddened eye, sniffled, and looked away, was just about all Frank could take today.

"Hey," he said, rubbing Oliver's shoulder with a gentle hand. "Hey." Frank shook him softly, enough to get his attention, and then he forced a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? Let's not talk about it right now. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Oliver half nodded, half shook his head as he rocked himself and leaned into Frank's hand. "I don't want to leave again, Frank. I just want you to stay with me."

"Okay," Frank was quick to agree. He slid his arm around Oliver, drawing him closer. At the moment, Frank would have done or said anything to wipe that look off his face. "Okay. It's okay."

"Okay," Oliver repeated, turning into him, wrapping his arms around Frank's waist while he buried his face against his bare shoulder.

The boat continued to sway, bringing them closer and closer to the shore as they each caught their breath. Frank kept an arm around Oliver as the temperature in the air dropped, keeping the warmth of his body close to his skin. His fingers had found their way into Oliver's hair, and he absently traced the scars hidden beneath.

"We should go to your house," Frank finally said. He was tired of being in the boat, and decided that Oliver's place was just as good as any. Under normal circumstances, Frank knew that he wouldn't have been comfortable with the suggestion, but anything was better than going home to face the visitor at his house. Oliver, however, didn't seem to agree as his head snapped up and he had the nerve to look at Frank as if he were the crazy one.

"No! No, I don't want to go home, Frank. They won't let me... they said you didn't want to see me anymore."

"Your parents?"

Oliver nodded slowly. "They took David's things. My dad broke his camera... and they get mad when I say his name."

Frank frowned. The Martins had mentioned that David had gotten so bad that they had to take extreme measures to control him. Now, it sounded that they were trying to get rid of him entirely. From what Frank knew about the situation, he couldn't entirely disagree with their decision. But, he did wonder if it was even possible. Whatever part of Oliver that David played seemed to be a big one, and he wasn't sure getting rid of him would be as simple as pretending he didn't exist. Furthermore, he wasn't sure if it was affecting Oliver in a positive way. If anything, it seemed to be hurting him.

"We don't have to go there," Frank finally said, doing his best to downplay the situation. "I know what it's like to want to avoid your parents. But let's go somewhere, alright? I need... I need to get out of this boat for a while."

"Baby, you've gotta order something or they're gonna make me kick you out."

Jay looked up from the table he was sitting at in Hannigan's restaurant, to find Jenny leaning over him.

"Milkshake, fries... whatever looks good is fine," he told her before turning his attention back to his table.

Jenny frowned. She was used to his attention being on her, not Frank Seaberg, who happened to be in every photo laid out in front of her boyfriend. Jay reached for another to add to the rows he was making, but she caught it, and his hand beneath hers, and shook her head when he looked up at her expectantly.

"Okay, this has gotta stop, Jay," she said firmly. "It's getting weird. Besides, I thought you said he didn't know anything."

"I don't think he does," Jay admitted, eyeing his girlfriend's supervisor looking in their direction. "Are you gonna get my food, or have I gotta go somewhere else?"

Jenny released an exasperated sigh, but went to get Jay something to eat. He watched after her for a moment, deciding that an apology would be in order. Later, of course. Covering his mouth as he yawned, he turned his attention back to the photographs in front of him. Decidedly, it wasn't his best work. Most were out of focus, but it couldn't be helped. Earlier in the day he hadn't been focusing on the perfect picture as he followed Frank all over the whole skating rink, paying attention.

What had he been looking for? Jay wondered. In every shot Frank was aiming his own camera at a different person. Or who was he looking for? Jay had a good idea, but he had his doubts that Frank would actually take things this far. It seemed that he was the suspicious sort. In a way, Jay could respect that. If anything, he could relate. He wished that he'd been more patient with Frank earlier. Played it nice, until he learned more. He wondered if there was anything he could do about it now. He supposed that he still had another option; one more thing that could get him close enough to Frank. The problem was, he didn't know whether or not it would work, and he didn't know if trying it was the best of ideas.

Someone sliding into the booth across from Jay caught his attention, and he did his best not to frown at the tall boy with red streaks in his hair.

"Jay," his company said casually.

"Jeremy," Jay returned. Jeremy's very presence compelled him to start stacking up the pictures. They weren't friends. At least, not by Jay's standards. Jeremy was one of those guys who just didn't get along with anyone, but chose to consider the people he didn't like as friends anyway. Otherwise, he wouldn't have any. So, there really wasn't anything surprising about him randomly sitting at Jay's table. And, usually, Jay didn't even mind. Only today, he wasn't in the mood for it. Jeremy might act like a dumb jerk, but Jay was completely aware that the guy was somewhat intelligent. And observant.

"What the hell is this?" Jeremy remarked. He'd noticed the pictures quickly, and the similarities in them.

"Nothing special," Jay replied. "A lot of bad shots. The lighting was wrong, wasn't paying attention..."

"No, him," Jeremy interrupted, dropping a heavy finger directly over Frank's face in one of them. "Looks like you must really like this new friend of yours. Sure Jenny won't get jealous?"

"Fuck off, Jeremy," Jay said, gathering the rest of the photos.

Jeremy laughed. "Seriously, is that loser still around? I might wanna get out of here if he shows up again."

Jay looked up. "Why's that?"

Jeremy shrugged. "I just don't like him around. He creeps me out."

"How so?" Jay asked skeptically. He'd never known anyone to creep Jeremy out before.

Jeremy frowned. "Never mind. I just don't like him, alright?" He stopped, and Jay frowned. He didn't think he'd get anymore out of him. But it seemed that a few moments of silence was all Jeremy needed to continue. "I saw him hanging out with those freaks. Like, he was over at their house."

Jay swallowed, wishing he had a drink in front of him to pick up. "Freaks?"

"Don't play dumb, Jay. My dad works with Brian Martin. Everyone knows that whole family's fucked up. That guy's been around them a lot," Jeremy said, nodding towards the stacks of pictures. Who the hell knows what's going on in that house. They're all a bunch of devil worshipers or something. And it don't seem to bother your new friend much, either."

"You've seen Frank go to their house? When?"

"Saw him when I was out walking my dog. He was all chummy in their little boat, and..."

They were interrupted when a plate full of fries was dropped roughly in front of Jay.

"There's your fries," Jenny said, frowning.

Jeremy smirked up at her. "Look, she is jealous."

Frank's legs felt wobbly as he trekked through the woods alongside Oliver, not far from where they'd left the boat. He figured that they were about a mile away from the Martin house, and he was exhausted. He didn't even bother to explain his actions when he suddenly sat, leaning back against the trunk of a tree as he ignored the way the bark scratched his back. Oliver stopped walking and cocked his head curiously.

"Is something wrong, Frank?"

"Yeah," Frank said honestly. "I'm tired. I'm dehydrated. I don't remember the last time I ate. I can't go home... and I'm out here with you, avoiding everything that we should be talking about because I'm completely freaked every time I think about how you might flip on me."

"Why would I do that, Frank?" Oliver asked, alarmed as he moved to sit down.

Frank only sighed and leaned into him. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I'm just kinda testy right now, you know? I'm not feeling real good."

"Are you gonna be sick, Frank?" Oliver asked.

"It's possible," Frank replied, realizing that it was an actual possibility as he closed his eyes, only to find that doing so made him dizzy. Oliver stared at him for long moments, seeming unsure of the situation before he tentatively raised his hand to Frank's shoulder. "I just need to rest for a few minutes," Frank told him when it came to his attention that Oliver was worried.

"We could stay here for a long time, Frank," Oliver suggested, surprising him. "Like camping."

Frank laughed, mostly because he liked the idea, as absurd as it was. "We don't have any food. No water, and it's been cold at night."

"What happened to your shirt, Frank?"

"Took it off somewhere I guess. Listen, Oliver, we can't stay here. It's either your house or mine, and right now I think your place would be best."

Oliver shook his head again. "No, I don't want to go home, Frank."

"Because you snuck out without telling your parents?"

Oliver was quick to look guilty. "They wouldn't let me see you, Frank. I left when my dad went to work. My mom thinks I'm feeding my chicken. It's a lucky chicken."

Frank sighed. "Well trust me, she doesn't think you're feeding it anymore. They're probably looking for you. Shit, she could have seen you on the lake with me."

"I know that, Frank," Oliver replied, lowering his voice. "David..."

"David what?" Frank asked when Oliver suddenly stopped, as if he'd said something wrong.

Oliver met his eyes. "David told me to be fast, or they'd catch me."

Frank sighed. "David told you?" He wasn't sure he liked that Oliver could be influenced by David even when David wasn't in control.

"He told me how to get out," Oliver explained. "He told me how to get to you, Frank. I don't wanna go back home."

Frank took in a deep breath as he slowly pulled himself to his feet, and then held down a hand for Oliver. "Well, you're gonna have to," he insisted as he pulled him up. "And you're not going to get in trouble--if we go now. I'll talk to your parents. It'll be alright, Oliver."

Oliver leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms. Frank frowned.

"Look," Frank said. "What if I promise not to leave you there unless you say it's okay?"

"You won't leave?"

"Not until you understand that you're not in trouble."

Oliver looked thoughtful. "Will you make them let me see you, Frank?"

Frank indulged Oliver in a small smile as he reached out and took his hand again. "I'm not going anywhere this time. I promise."

"Why didn't you lock him up?" Brian Martin demanded of his wife as he followed her out to the front porch. "You were supposed to be watching him!" He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He'd expected his wife to be more competent than this, but the phone call he received at work in the middle of the day proved otherwise.

"We agreed not to put him in the basement anymore," Mary reminded him. "It's too risky now. We never should have moved David's things. It's too hard on Oliver."

"Well he's going to have to deal with it. He'd be just fine if you hadn't mothered him so much!"

Mary turned to face her husband, shaking her head. "None of us are fine, Brian! Not anymore! And this is too much to do to Oliver. He doesn't want to believe that David's not real, and if we can't convince him... I can't do this anymore, Brian. I can't. Everything's falling apart."

"Then we're just going to have to hold it together, just like we always have. I'm gonna start by finding Oliver, and once he's home he's staying home, Mary. I don't care what we've gotta do to make that happen!"

Brian turned, heading for his truck, only to stop at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Brian. You don't have to find him. He's home."

Brian turned and followed Mary's eyes out to the river until they fell over Oliver's little motorboat coming towards them slowly. He was going to have to get rid of that thing, he decided. But, that would come later. It appeared they had company, and he was irritated to find that Oliver wasn't alone. But, that didn't stop him from forcing a smile as he moved towards the water to help the boys out of the boat. He took only a moment to consider Frank Seaberg's shirtless and worn appearance before he reached for Oliver, helped him out, and pulled him in for a hug. "You had us worried to death, Oliver! Where've you been?" Brian demanded, frowning at the tense way Oliver regarded him.

"It was my fault," Frank said as he moved to the shore with no assistance. He looked at the Martins each in turn. "He came to see me, and I wanted to take a walk before we came back here."