The Price We Pay for Family - 16

 

Cont...

AJ hadn't been able to sleep. Everything had been such a blur today, and he knew he was supposed to be asleep, his body was begging for it, but his mind wouldn't let him. It was moving too fast for his body to control. 

The van. The cage. Those people. The red dots floating over him and Cass. Uncle Bucky's eyes looking at him calmly. 

It felt like every nerve in his body was standing on end. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt safe anymore. 

He curled tighter around Cass, inhaling deeply of the blankets and pillow. It smelled like Bucky and faintly of Mama's lavender laundry detergent. The smell soothed his body. It didn't quiet his mind. 

All he could think of was how his Uncle had smelled like gunpowder when he'd last seen him. He only ever smelled like gunpowder when he was packing. His Uncle always checked his weapons meticulously before he used them. Because of this, he would smell of gunpowder when he was done.

 AJ had found the smell comforting and electrifying the first time he'd smelled it. He could remember that crystal clear.

 It had been a bad mission. Uncle Sam had been in the hospital for a week because of it. Uncle Bucky had barely said ten words when he came back. He hadn't really been there. He'd stare at the wall, and AJ would step into his line of sight, and he wouldn't blink or notice. It had gotten so bad that the first time he'd woken up after getting home, he'd launched out of bed and was halfway through the living room before he noticed Cass standing in the kitchen door. Cass had said he'd looked confused and asked where he was. 

Mama had made him go outside and cut wood after that. Then weed. Then fix the back fence. And when all the repetitive jobs were done, Uncle Bucky had retreated to cleaning his gear.

 AJ had sat on the porch and watched him clean and sharpen his knives before moving on to his guns. "How do they work?" AJ had asked curiosity, finally getting the better of him.

 "They funnel an explosion through a cylinder to push the bullet out in a certain direction." Uncle Bucky had said factually.

 "So it's just a controlled explosion?" AJ asked, abandoning English on the floor and scooting closer to watch his Uncle go through a very detailed process without completely thinking about it. 

"In a generalization, yeah." Bucky hadn't looked up from what he was doing when he answered.

 "And you know how to use all of them?" AJ asked. 

Bucky huffed and put the last piece of the gun down on the towel he had out, "Probably. They all have the same parts. Once you learn the parts, you can figure out how every gun works."

 "Could you teach me?" AJ wasn't sure why he asked, he didn't have an interest in fighting, not the way his uncles did it at least, but the look of pleasant surprise that crossed his Uncle's face made it worth it.

 "Only if your mom says it's okay." Uncle Bucky said firmly. He never went against Mama. 

"Mom said Cass could learn from Uncle Sam. She'll be fine with this. As long as you aren't teaching me how to shoot or fight." AJ fibbed. Mama had said that to Cass and Sam, but she'd never said he could do it. Then again, she hasn't said he couldn't. But if AJ kept to the rules she'd placed for Cass, he should be fine. 

Uncle Bucky didn't seem convinced, "How about you double-check?"

 AJ huffed and ran inside. Mama was doing the budget, which meant she would be distracted, perfect. He was gonna get in so much trouble later for this. "Hey, mom, would it be okay if Bucky taught me some things about his work?" 

"Sure, baby. No fighting, though. You hear me, AJ?" His mom agreed distractedly before fixing him with a serious gaze.

 "No fighting. Promise." AJ nodded, grabbing two sodas from the fridge. Mama was back to doing her paperwork and absentmindedly hummed as he left. "She said it was fine," AJ said, coming back onto the porch. 

Uncle Bucky took the offered soda and smiled, "Well then, have a seat."

 And right there on the porch, Uncle Bucky walked him through every single part of a gun and how they went together. As he went, Bucky had cleaned each piece, getting black soot all over his cloth and coating his hands in the smell of gunpowder. AJ had inhaled the sharp scent and heeded his Uncle's warning, "Gunpowder is one of the most dangerous things in the world. It powers the bullet to its trajectory, and once it leaves, there's no taking it back. Be careful what you do that you can't undo." 

He'd gotten in a lot of trouble twisting the truth to his mother, but that moment with his Uncle had been worth it. But now, all he can hear is his Uncle's words echoing through his head, "The world isn't a fair place AJ. We can't take our words back, just like we can't take back bullets." His Uncle had smiled sadly at him when he said that, with eyes that told AJ more than he ever wanted to know. AJ never wanted to have that kind of weight hanging over him. The weight you couldn't undo. 

He stilled as Mama stepped into the room, silently watching them sleep. She looked around the room silently before her gaze settled lovingly on him and his brother. She would do anything for them. So would Bucky. That's what scared AJ. 

"Sarah." Uncle Sam stepped into partial view in the hall, and a cold feeling swept through AJ. Something was wrong. 

Mama and Uncle Sam moved out of the room and away from his hearing to the kitchen. AJ got up silently and eased over the creaky boards of the old house very, very slowly. He could hear low voices talking and the dull clinch of something, but he couldn't make out the words. He came to the doorway of the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. 

Mama cradled a bottle of scotch in her arms. Uncle Sam was crying silently. They both looked devastated. He'd only ever seen Mama this distraught when dad died. No, please, no. Please let something else be wrong. Maybe he was misreading the situation. 

AJ stepped out into the hall, "Mama? What's wrong?" 

Mama put the bottle down and gestured for him to come, "Come here, baby." AJ didn't hesitate or object to the nickname before burying himself into her arms. "We're alright. Everything's gonna be alright." Mama said softly, rocking him. 

It wasn't alright. The fact that something was wrongwrongwrong was still ringing in his head, but being held by him, Mama made it feel like it was for a moment. But everything wasn't okay. He pulled back from the hug and looked at Uncle Sam, "Where's Bucky?" Uncle Sam let out a pained sound and shook his head, looking away. AJ turned to his mother, panic rising, "What's wrong?" 

Mama looked pained as she pressed her lips together hard, "Baby..." 

"Bucky's not coming home, AJ." Uncle Sam said softly, saving Mama from speaking. AJ looked over at his Uncle, but he refused to meet AJ's eyes, "He's not coming home ever."

 AJ felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of him, "He's gone?" 

"Yeah, baby, he is." Mama agreed quietly. 

AJ felt his body kinda give out as he slumped into Mama's arms, but it seemed so far away. So unreal. Yet his mind found it perfectly reasonable, perfectly acceptable. 

AJ wanted to scream. His Uncle couldn't just be gone. His Uncle was supposed to propose to his mom! Goodness knows that AJ had caught his Uncle staring at a little red box in the bottom of his sock drawer more times he could count. He also knew that the box had a ring in it that had belonged to his Uncle's sister from their mother. It said so on the note with the box that one time he definitely hadn't snuck in to look around. It wasn't supposed to end like this! 

AJ hadn't even realized he was crying until Uncle Sam was wrapping his arms around both AJ and Mama, "We'll figure this out. We'll be okay." 

AJ sobbed harder at the whispered words. Nothing was okay. 

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