Lost Boy - Chapter 14: Chapter 14

His house seems different for no discernible reason. It could be because this might be the last time Charlie ever sees it, or it could be because for the first time Charlie isn't entirely scared of what is waiting for him inside.
Charlie knocks, he has a key but it seems strange to just walk in after being away for so long. This house doesn't feel like his home anymore, he's starting to realise that it never really did.
His Father's at the door in seconds. He's the exact same person Charlie remembers him being, he doesn't appear to have changed a bit. Peter Martin wears his hair cropped close to his head and always tends to sport a shirt and slacks. His belly protrudes over the waistband of his trousers and even now, at eleven o'clock in the morning, Charlie can smell alcohol on his Father's breath.
Charlie would love to be able to say he was surprised.
Peter Martin somehow manages to strike the perfect balance between looking put together and looking like he's falling apart. At first glance Charlie knows that his Father looks like a respectable man, a smart shirt, shining watch, hair combed through. He stands with an air of authority and gazes at others as if he's their king. But Charlie can see the slight sheen of sweat on his father's forehead, the way his hand trembles when it's not holding a drink.
Charlie's Father is a masterpiece until you get close enough to see it's torn.
"Son."
"Father."
Charlie steps into the house without another word. Charlie is too nervous to come up with anything else to say and Peter Martin is a man of little words anyway – until he's got a drink in his hand and you've pissed him off that is.
"How's university?"
"Good."
"You enjoying yourself?"
"The course is interesting."
Deep down Charlie knows that he's still saying things he knows his Father will want to hear. Peter Martin doesn't want to know if Charlie's made any friends or whether he's enjoying living away from home. Peter Martin wants to hear that Charlie's working hard, and focusing on his classes. Apparently nothing else should matter.
"You're still liking it then?"
"Yeah."
"I'm glad to see you."
It's one of the closest things to affection Peter Martin has ever managed and it makes Charlie swallow deeply. It would be a lot easier to let his Father down if he wasn't finally acting somewhat like a Father should.
"Dad," Charlie says.
That piques Peter's interest, it's the first time Charlie's referred to him as Dad instead of Father since the whole Daniel incident. The different between the two is amazing and it was Charlie's one little attempt at defiance.
"Son."
"We need to talk."
"About?"
There's suddenly an edge to his Father's voice, a hint of anger that wasn't there before. Charlie almost prefers it this way, this tone of voice he can deal with, it's the one he's used to.
"Everything," Charlie replies and for a moment it doesn't feel like an exaggeration.
"Go on," Peter Martin says slowly.
"I can't go on like this anymore."
And there it is, laid out in seven simple words, everything that he feels. Because the how or why of it doesn't truly matter, Charlie just knows that he can't go on tiptoeing around his Dad the way he has for the past however many years. He's sick of lying and pretending that everything is okay. Charlie isn't sure that anything has ever been okay really, not since he was born.
"Can't go on like what?"
"Lying. Pretending."
"What do you mean?"
His Father's voice is poison and it burns at all of Charlie's confidence, threatening to kill it off, to send Charlie back to the nervous wreck he usually is. Charlie thinks his Father might know deep down what he's about to say, but he wants Charlie to spell it out for him, wants to make this as difficult as possible.
"I'm gay dad."
And the words are bitter in his mouth but taste so sweet when he spits them out where they settle in the air like dead weights.
Peter Martin's expression does not change.
"No you're not."
It takes Charlie a moment to react. He had pictured out a thousand different scenarios in his head but none of them had gone quite like this. So for a moment he's frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Part of him wants to laugh, maybe his Father still can't believe his oh so perfect son could ever be gay.
"What?" He eventually manages to splutter out.
"You can choose not to be."
"What?"
Charlie can do nothing but repeat himself, he's lost some of his composure. And his father's suggestion that he somehow has a choice in the matter of his sexuality – as if this is all somehow his fault - makes him far madder than he ever thought it would.
But then Charlie laughs, because even if he did have a choice, he'd choose Finn any day.
"You've chosen not be gay before Charlie."
Peter Martin must spot the expression of confusion on Charlie's face as he takes it upon himself to carry on talking.
"When that thing with that boy happened – what was his name?"
Bile rises in Charlie's throat and he tries to fight off the disgust. At himself, at his Father, at the whole damn world for putting him in this house to grow up with this man as a parent.
"Daniel," Charlie chokes out.
"Him," his Father says, "you chose not be gay then, you made that choice."
"That was different."
"How?"
Charlie isn't sure how to put it all into words. It's different because Charlie isn't as afraid of his Father anymore, because back then he didn't realise how much heartbreak hurt or because back then he didn't realise that he deserved Daniel no matter what his Father said. Because back then he was still just a small boy convinced that wanting another boy was wrong and horrible. Because now he knows that's not true, that falling in love with another boy is one of the best things he's ever done.
(Charlie's still not sure he's ready to admit to himself he's in love with Finn yet, but part of him is definitely thinking about it).
"Things have changed."
"Let me guess," Peter Martin drawls, "you've met a boy?"
"Yes," Charlie tries to keep his voice strong and is proud to find that it barely wavers, that the only thing shaking is his hands hidden beneath the sleeves of his hoodie.
"And are they really worth giving all this up for?"
Peter Martin gestures around the room, and finally to himself, as if that's supposed to want to make him stay.
"Yes." Charlie waits a breath before continuing. "But why do I have to give up one to get the other? Why can't I have both?"
At first glance the smile Peter Martin offers could be sympathetic, but Charlie can see the condescension behind it.
"It's not right Charlie and I'm not going to have a son who thinks it is."
"Then you're not going to have a son."
"First Matt, now you, you really okay with leaving your own Dad alone like this? I raised you."
When Charlie really thinks about it he realises that that's not quite true. That his Mother raised him, and then when she left it was Matt who made his meals and put plasters on his knee when he scraped himself and tucked him in at night. He remembers that no one used to come to his parent-teacher conferences and that it used to be Matt who wrote feedback on his school report.
Charlie finally realises that his Father has never been there for him the way he should have been. He never deserved the title of Dad, maybe he doesn't deserve father either.
The only thing Peter Martin has ever done is provided Charlie with twenty three chromosomes, and any fool of a man could have done that.
It occurs to Charlie then that it's okay to cut people and their toxicity out of your life, it doesn't matter if they're strangers or friends or even family. If your life is going to be better off without them in it, you shouldn't be afraid of letting them go.
Charlie has spent the past few years still holding onto the hope of a fairytale ending. Of a father who quits the drink and becomes a loving parent. Of a home that holds memories of laughter instead of punches. Of a grand dramatic turnaround that makes everything so much simpler.
And Charlie has always thought that hope was a wonderful, magical thing. But he realises now that it was terrible. It made Charlie stay in a house made of thorns and now it's almost too late for Charlie to leave.
If Charlie goes now he knows there's no way he's coming back, even if he decides he wants to.
And that hope is still there, niggling in the back of his mind.
Maybe he'll get better.
But Peter Martin isn't sick and there are no drugs to fix this mess. He's an alcoholic with anger issues and Charlie is his punch bag. Charlie can't stay, this place is already starting to suffocate him again.
He's got to get out of here, today, forever.
But he needs to say a few things first.
"You know all I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me."
"I was proud of you. Not anymore."
"No you weren't." Charlie can't help that it comes out as a laugh, and he can't help the way his expression twists into a wry smirk. "I could always be smarter, funnier, stronger, taller. Well guess what, height's partially genetic, so that one's your fault."
"Charlie."
His name is a warning meant to send him running. But Charlie is sick of running, this time he plans on setting the place alight before walking away from the flames. The anticipation coats his stomach and his heart and his brain and he's waiting, just waiting, for what? He's not quite sure, for something though. Maybe he's waiting for a chink to finally show in Peter Martin's emotionless armour.
"Peter," Charlie replies.
This newfound confidence is strange but not unwelcome. It's nice to finally feel like he and his Father are on a level playing field, like maybe Charlie finally has a chance to win an argument.
"Don't do this, just go, this doesn't have to be difficult."
"I thought things with you always had to be difficult."
"Charlie, I'm warning you," Peter Martin says, his voice low and lethal.
"It's always 'I'm warning you' when it comes to stuff like this, you just don't want me to say it all aloud. But I've grown up in this house, and I've put up with your drinking and your anger. I've grown up with you hitting me every time I don't do things exactly your way. I've grown up surrounded by shouting and punches and blood so don't fucking warn me, I know what's coming."
And there it is, the slightest of twitches. A tug at the corner of Peter Martin's mouth that might just be the start of a frown. And it may be a small victory, but Charlie feels like celebrating it none the less.
"I was teaching you a lesson."
"Oh yeah, and what lesson was that? Not to have an opinion? To hate myself? To hate you? Cause whichever one of those it was, congratulations, you did a great fucking job."
"I was teaching you to be a man."
"I didn't need you to do that for me. I have happily always identified as being of the male gender. I don't need to do anything else to be a man. I don't need to conform to your fucked up old fashioned ideas, and I can tell you now, I'm more of a man than you ever have been or ever will be."
"Charlie."
There it is again, his name said as if his Father isn't sure what else to say to connect him to the boy he used to be.
"Don't call me that."
"I gave you that name."
"You gave me the name Charles, not Charlie, fucking pompous of you if you ask me. And you gave me your eyes and you gave me your love of Johnny Cash but you do not own any of those things and you do not own me."
"All this?" His Father asks. "All this for a boy?"
"He's not just a boy."
"What is he then?"
"My boyfriend."
"He won't last forever."
"He might," Charlie replies simply, "I want him to, he loves me and I love him."
"He's ruined you."
"You did that long before he had a chance to."
The slap is so quick that Charlie barely registers it. But the sting on his face is unexplainable otherwise, and he can see the smile of contentment on his Father's face and he knows. He knows that his Father thinks that this is what is going to make it stop. But Charlie doesn't care anymore, he'll take every hit and kick and punch and then he'll walk away. Back to Finn, who is worth every blow.
"Don't speak to me like that," Peter Martin says.
His voice used to be a knife cutting through Charlie and his confidence; now it makes Charlie do nothing more than cock his head to the side.
"Don't speak to you like what? Honestly? Would you rather I lied and told you what a brilliant Father you've always been, because I'm pretty sure I remember you telling me that liars were the worst kinds of people."
"Don't speak to me like I've done nothing for you."
"You have done nothing for me."
"I saved you. I saved you and Matt from Finn and I saved you from that Daniel boy and I've done my best to keep the two of you away from them. And now it's all worth nothing."
Charlie lets out a choked laugh.
"I didn't need saving," he says furiously, "there's nothing I need saving from." A brief pause. "And even if there was you evidently did a pretty shit job, me and Finn are pretty happy together."
Charlie says this all with a smile spread across his features and Peter Martin tries to slap it away. But there's nothing he can do, it's not going to budge, because Charlie is happy and he's leaving and he has Finn and even Peter Martin can't take that away anymore.
But his Father is not done, and the hits keep on coming. A punch to his temple, to his mouth, to his stomach. A swipe to the side. Charlie somehow manages to keep standing, lips still curved upwards in defiance.
And they carry on this way, Charlie refusing to return any of his father's blows, until Peter Martin is breathing heavy with a furious expression in his eyes.
"You don't get it do you?" Charlie says. "Beating the shit out of me is not somehow going to beat the gay out of me, I'm not scared of you anymore. Finn isn't the one taking me away from you, you're doing stuff like this and it's pushing me away. You really think I want to live in a house like this with a Father who does this?"
His Father's gaze is still venomous and Charlie realises the earlier show of emotion was nothing more than a little blip. His Father is still convinced that he can persuade Charlie to stay with screaming and shouting. Can straighten him out with cuts and bruises.
And maybe it almost used to work. Charlie used to be exactly who Peter Martin wanted him to be because he was too scared to be anyone else. But not anymore. Now he's had a taste of freedom, there's no way Charlie can come back here.
So maybe Peter Martin is his Father but right now Charlie feels like they share nothing more than those few genes. And maybe Peter Martin raised him but he raised him in a house like this, with blood and tears too frequent an occasion. And there are so many reasons why people might tell Charlie to stay, they'd tell him that Peter Martin is family and Peter Martin did so much for him, gave so much up for him. He paid for the first eighteen years of Charlie's life after all.
But Charlie doesn't care about that anymore. He cares about the Dad who was never truly there for him, who couldn't make it to Charlie's results day because he was too busy drinking whisky straight from the bottle and hurling glasses at the wall.
Charlie can't stay, he knows that he doesn't deserve to stay here, he deserves better than that.
And so he looks his Father straight in the eye with a twisted, half-wild, smile.
"Goodbye."
"You can't come back."
"I know that," Charlie says, working to keep any trembles out of his voice.
"I hope you realise what you're doing is wrong."
"Goodbye."
The door is unlocked and Charlie steps out of it, making his way down the steps as quickly as possible, desperate to get away from that place.
And then the tears start falling, furious tears, and Charlie hates himself for having them. But the thing is Peter Martin has been in Charlie's life for the past eighteen years, and yes, most of the memories of him are bad, but Charlie can still sort of remember the man his Father used to be. And he's leaving behind any hope he had of a normal family, and he's leaving behind the home he grew up in. Charlie feels like he's giving up so much, but the alternative was Finn and there was no way he was giving up that boy.
But he's still kind of sad. Because he's never going to wake up to a room full of glow in the dark dinosaurs again, or be able to go down to the bottom of the garden to the den that he and Matt built years ago. He's never going to be able to get his comic collection or his mini library of bookshelves back and he just said goodbye to the room where he and Finn first kissed.
They're all stupid, little things. Things that deep down Charlie knows he doesn't care about that much and that he'll definitely survive without. But he's still sad to say goodbye to it all, because Charlie knows he shouldn't have to be saying goodbye. He shouldn't have to choose between Finn and his family.
He's pretty sure he's made the right choice though; he can already feel his body feeling lighter.
Not that the process of getting to this moment was easy. As the tears still fall Charlie realises just how much that conversation took out of him. To stay confident and calm around his Father has never been easy (to be honest Charlie's never managed it before, usually Peter Martin makes him feel like a two inch tall boy) and to say goodbye was harder than Charlie thought it might be. He wanted to do it, but to make the words come out was difficult. It all just seems so final, there's no chance of anything changing now.
Charlie picks up the phone and calls Finn, unable to wait till he gets back to university to tell him. This is it, they can get together properly now, tell everyone, they finally have a chance at a proper future.
His bruises don't even hurt when he thinks of that, it's like his Father hasn't even hit him.
The phone rings, and rings, and rings. Then it goes to voicemail and Charlie sighs, it's okay though, Finn's probably spending time with Eliza or is at the library or is just so in the zone studying he hasn't heard his phone.
Charlie's not worried, Finn will call him back eventually. Then he can share the news and everything will be okay, better than okay, a word Charlie hasn't even discovered yet.
So Charlie heads to the nearest cafe, he can't get a train back to university for another few hours and so he figures he might as well wait the time out somewhere warm.
On the way he texts Matt, who he figures should probably know what just went down.
Charlie: I did it! :)
A few moments later:
Matt: Did what?
Charlie supposes he shouldn't be surprised that Matt has no idea what he's on about, he didn't exactly tell him he was going back home.
Charlie: I just went home
Matt: And?
Charlie: I said goodbye to him
Matt: Goodbye forever?
Charlie: Goodbye forever
Matt: Fuck Charlie I'm proud of you
Matt: Does this mean I can expect a Charlie/Finn wedding in the near future
Charlie: I don't know about the near future :p
Matt: Whatever xD, have fun celebrating with him ;)
Charlie: Ew Matt no
Matt: Sorry
Matt: Anyway I gotta go, I'm working this afternoon
Charlie: Have fun!
Charlie: Love you
Matt: Love you too bro
Charlie sinks into one of the cafe's huge armchairs with a latte in his hand. Sipping on his drink he stares at his phone and waits for Finn to call.
Then, when he realises that's a pointless way to spend his time here, he begins to compile a mental list of things he wants to do now his Father is out of his life.
It's a somewhat predictable list, mainly composed of kissing Finn and planning a future with him, but he also kind of wants to reach out to Daniel again and explain everything properly this time and he wants to see Matt more and there are just so many things he feels are possible now. And some of the tasks are definitely going to be easier than others. But they're all things he wants, and all things he feels like he needs.
Because Finn is the boy that Charlie loves, and he wants to keep him in his life for as long as possible. And maybe kisses are easier, and saying I love you is a little bit harder. But it will be a relief to get everything off his chest. Because Charlie has given up pretty much everything he has ever known for Finn and he's certain the other boy is worth it and he's certain they'll last but he just needs to see Finn again and tell him all this, to know that the other boy feels the same.
And Matt is the only family that Charlie has left now and he wants to keep as tighter grip as possible on him. Because they've never been all that close but they've talked more since Matt came to visit than they ever really did before and Charlie feels like things are changing and they might actually become good friends instead of just brothers and he'd like that, a lot.
And Daniel is still a shadow in Charlie's past that he knows he needs to deal with before he can really, truly move on. He's already dealt with his Dad, and Charlie knows whatever apology he offered Daniel was a half-hearted lie. And Daniel deserves so much more (has hopefully got so much more, there was a mention of a Jonah when they met up last?) and Charlie just wants to apologise properly. He's pretty sure Daniel has already moved on from it, but Charlie hasn't, and so he needs to talk to Daniel. He understands if Daniel's not up for that though, he'll just have to play it by ear.
Charlie waits in the cafe a little while, even after he's finished his drink. And his gaze still keeps on drifting to his phone, waiting for Finn to call him back. He can't wait, he just wants to tell Finn exactly what went down, to tell him that he's not scared of his Father or what he thinks anymore, that they can finally move past all this.
So Charlie takes matters into his own hands.
The phone rings, and rings, and rings.
Charlie waits, and waits, and waits.
Still no answer and Charlie starts to get nervous even though he's telling himself that there's nothing to worry about and that Finn is probably usually just busy.
But the thing is Finn is – and always has been – a quick replier. He answers texts within seconds and has never not picked up Charlie's calls.
Charlie tries not to think about this and tries to stay calm and think about all the reasons why Finn might not be able to pick up the phone. He did say he was probably going to go the library, Charlie is just overreacting, panicking for no reason, still on edge from today's earlier events.
As he walks to the station Charlie tries to distract himself from Finn's cellular silence. He thinks about all the cool dates the two of them can go on, and all the things he'll be able to say and do now he won't constantly be worrying what his Dad might think.
But as he's stood waiting on the train platform he can't resist the urge to try to call Finn again.
The phone rings, and then after a single ring goes straight to voicemail.
Charlie doesn't leave a message,
All he can think is that there was only a single ring.
Finn just rejected his call.
Suddenly his day feels like it might be falling apart, and Charlie has no idea why.