istari

Mastering Alex

Chapter 31: Broken Ends

I was troubled, and there was that uneasy feeling again, as if all of this had slipped beyond my control. It seemed every time I had offered Alex a way out, he had gone out of his way to do something to cause himself even more pain and distress. Every chance I gave him was thrown back in my face. I began to realize that he was torturing me, every bit as much as he himself was being tortured. He wanted me to see him suffering at someone else's hands.

He hated me right now, and to be honest, part of me hated him right back. I turned my head and parted the curtain. Michael was kneeling beside the cage, his hand through the bars. He smacked Alex across the face several times, hard enough that I could hear it over the noise from the road. When he stopped, Alex crawled forward as far as his confinement would allow and pressed his head against the iron bars of his prison. Michael stroked the boy's hair. Alex raised his eyes for just a moment and darted them away quickly when he saw that I was looking.

"He's not doing this just to hurt you, Steven," Robert said beside me, and his tone was suddenly serious and filled with concern. "But I believe he is doing it for the wrong reasons. It isn't about pain anymore, or even being a slave, not for him. He should have used his safeword by now. It bothers me that he hasn't."

"He says he can't."

Robert sighed and stared off into the distance as the quiet back road wound before us. "That bothers me even more."

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"Exactly what you've been doing. Don't give up on him now, and don't give in. He needs your strength. But be ready. He's breaking. And when he does, it will not be pleasant. You know what this is about, don't you?"

I sat back against the seat and rolled up my sleeve, staring down at my right arm. The tracks were gone now, they had been for years, but in my mind I could still see them, and with them all the damage I had done to that sweet and gentle boy, simply by doing nothing at all.

"You're not that person anymore, Steven," Robert spoke softly. "You are a fine master, a caring brother, and, if I may, you've been a terrific father to him."

That word made me cringe. I could, perhaps, see Alex as a son, but I could never, ever, see myself as a father. I was not worthy of such a title.

"I know you don't see yourself that way. But Alex is a very gifted and very complicated boy, and he's becoming an outstanding young man. Give yourself some credit. I could never handle the demands of a boy like Alex."

I was beginning to doubt if anyone could.

We stopped about an hour from home to pick up some groceries, since the house was going to be rather crowded over the next few days. Michael coaxed Alex out his cage and I tossed the boy his shorts and T-shirt. He dressed hurriedly then sat on the floor and fumbled with his shoes, unable with his trembling hands to get the laces tied. I knelt down to help him. He drew his knees up and scooted himself against the wall. For a moment his expression told me he didn't know who I was. His eyes were glassy, ringed in dark circles. He was a pitiable sight. He finally seemed to recognize me and stuck his feet out to let me tie his laces. When I was finished I patted him on the leg and he slid up along the wall until he was half standing. I took off his ankle cuffs, and removed the padlocks from those on his wrists and collar.

Alex' hands found my shoulders when I was finished. I gazed up at him and straightened his shirt before realizing what he'd done.

"You've got it on backwards, Lexi," I said with a smile. I lifted it slowly.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry."

"Raise your arms."

He did, and I turned his shirt around for him.

"Tag goes in back, sweetheart."

"I know."

Together Michael and I helped him out of the van. Robert came in with us. Sam and Seb waited in their Rover. Sebastian actually sat up front with his master, which I found rather surprising, given Sam's rather extraordinary creativity where the keeping and training of his young nephew was concerned. The boy was asleep, the side of his face pressed against the glass. I saw Sam reach over and gently shift the boy around, placing a small pillow with cartoon characters on it beneath the little fellow's head. Caught showing his softer, gentler side, Sam shrugged his shoulders and smiled at us as we walked away.

Alex was a zombie in the store, obediently pushing the cart along, leaning against it for support whenever we stopped in one of the aisles. He started talking to himself at one point, incoherently, and we had to hurriedly shuffle him along and keep him quiet. We knew he'd never make it through the line, so I took him back out to the van while Mike and Robert finished up.

"Help Michael with the bags, Alex," I said when they returned.

He blinked at me and stumbled out the back door. Robert caught him before he could trip and hit his head on the blacktop. Mindlessly he loaded the bags into the van, placing some carefully, throwing others in without concern. Robert had to wrestle the bag with the eggs from him, and decided he'd better keep that one up front.

Michael stripped him once we were back on the road, and I tossed an apple to the naked boy. He missed it, and it rolled around the floor of the van. Alex watched it tumble this way and that and soon broke out in hysterical laughter, pointing at it with a slender shaking arm. Then he fell to his knees and started to cry.

I quickly grabbed the wayward Red Delicious and put it into his hands. He cradled it like some private treasure and crawled into his cage, munching on it quietly. I closed the door, there was no reason to lock it, then sat down beside the cage and watched my boy eat. I was not about to leave him in this state, not even with Michael there to watch over him.

That little bit of solid food, the first he'd eaten since before the hunt, seemed to perk Alex up noticeably. He even smiled at me when I reached in with a rag and wiped the sticky juice from the apple off his hands. The boy's grip was light and weak when he held on to me. I squeezed his hands tightly in return. He closed his eyes and hung his head between his shoulders.

"You can put your head down, honey," I told him. Alex looked up at me with sad eyes, then wiggled around in the cage until he managed to rest his head on its wooden floor. There was no room inside for him to lie down. He was forced to stay on his hands and knees. He leaned to one side. He didn't sleep. He started humming to himself, softly, in a high sorrowful pitch, some song I'd never heard.

Michael seemed to recognize the melody and he sat down and hummed it with him. We both held the boy's hands. Less than an hour later we were home, Alex still humming the same tune over and over again.

"His mind's starting to wander," Sam told us as we met briefly outside the van. Michael was beside himself with worry, and I wasn't far behind. Alex' voice could still be heard, soft and sweet, echoing within. "That's to be expected. We need to give him things to do, to keep him focused. Why don't we have Sebastian walk him around while we get everything unpacked?"

Young Seb eagerly nodded his head, proud to be given an assignment on his own. We all agreed it was a good idea, to get both of the youngsters out of the way for a while. I returned to the van and opened the door to the cage. Alex didn't move.

"Alex," I said strongly. His singing stopped. "Come out of the cage."

He backed out slowly. I put my hands around his hips and helped him down.

"Stand."

Alex blinked his eyes in confusion, knowing that word meant he was supposed to do something. He did remember, and slowly clasped his hands behind his head. I secured his ankle cuffs again, and checked his belt and the plug in his ass to make sure he wasn't working loose. With Michael's help we put the padlocks on once more, and I clasped the leash to his collar.

Sebastian was nearly jumping out of his sexy little shorts and he ran up to take the leash from my hands. I smiled at the four-foot high boy and tousled his short spiky red hair. "Don't let him get away from you, Seb," I warned him.

"No, sir."

He pulled on the leash, tugging it downward.

"Down, Alex," he said in his high melodious voice. "Down."

Alex obediently returned to his hands and knees. Seb patted him on the head. "Crawl, Alex. Come on. Crawl."

And he scampered off with Alex shuffling along on all fours behind him.

The boys were out of sight and out of mind for a while as we unpacked everything and stored the groceries. Michael was sent out to heat up the grill. The evening air already had a subtle chill to it, those last wonderful summer nights, when the smells and sounds of early autumn are just returning. Robert, Sam and I sat on the front porch watching Mike, naked and harnessed again, as he went about his work.

"So, did the two of you 3;?" Robert asked me.

"No. We didn't," I said, keeping his orgasm as our own private secret. "We just talked."

"I see."

Robert stood up, his thoughtful eyes resting on his handsome and wonderful young slave. He took a long deep breath. "The air is changing. Can you feel it?"

We all could, but I knew the deeper meaning of his words. I stood beside him and put my arm around his shoulder. He leaned in to me.

"I'm going to miss him," was all he said.

"There's still time. They're both young."

He smiled and laughed softly. I'd never before seen this side of him, a man I'd known my entire life. "I told you Alex would change every life he touches."

"And he has," I said.

Robert stood up straight and gathered his emotions once more. "For the better."

"Hadn't we best find those two boys," Samuel interjected, "before they get themselves into trouble."

We all agreed that was a wise course of action. And it didn't take us long. The sound of frustrated high-pitched grunts from behind the old barn led us right to them. Alex was on his knees. Sebastian stood in front of him with his shorts around his ankles, his shirt thrown off several feet away. He had hold of Alexander's head and was madly fucking the thirteen-year-old's face, his slender hips rocking forward and back with reckless abandon.

"Oh, yeah, Alex. Yeah!" the eleven-year-old shouted. "Suck me. Suck me! Suck my big hard cock!"

Robert and I broke down in laughter, particularly at Seb's rather inflated estimation of his little four-inch boner. Samuel's reaction was rather more subdued. There was a knowing smile on his face. We moved in to pull the boys apart, but he held us back and gestured for us to be quiet.

"No," he said. "Let him try to finish."

Sebastian's thrusts became more desperate. His eyes were tightly closed. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit!" His little voice was high and strained. "Ohhh. Ahhh. Ahhh. Aaaahhh!" His knees gave out and he collapsed onto the ground, shaking and trembling. I could see a tiny glob of sperm dribbling from Alex' lower lip. Samuel walked forward slowly and gently cradled Sebastian in his arms. The boy was crying.

"I'm sorry, master," he sobbed.

Sam clutched him tightly and rubbed the back of the boy's neck. He took the boy's cock in his hand and stroked it tenderly. Sensitive from his first ejaculation, Sebastian whined and moaned. Sam hugged the boy again, then he wiped Sebastian's tears. "How did it feel, Seb?" he asked gently.

The boy sniffled but managed a smile. "Good."

"We'll talk about your punishment when we get back home. Right now I think you have something to say to Alex."

Alex was still on his knees, Sebastian's immature sperm dripping from his mouth. Seb crawled over to him and kissed him on the lips, licking his own juices.

"Thanks, Alex," he said softly.

Sam helped him to his feet and pulled his shorts back up, giving his hindquarters a good solid smack. "Get your shirt on."

The little boy, apparently not so little anymore, worked himself back into his tight black T and dutifully picked up Alex' leash again. He handed it to me with a sheepish grin.

"No, Seb. You can keep him for a while."

He beamed with pride and reached down to pat Alex on the head as he'd seen me do so many times. "Come on, Alex." A little tug and they were off across the grass, Alex crawling obediently at Sebastian's side, both headed for the unmistakable smell of the grill round front.

Michael handled the cooking for the most part, while the three of us sat down for a cool drink. Young Sebastian was still in charge of Alex, and getting rather inventive. We all watched with warm smiles as he mounted the thirteen-year-old's back, jammed his knees into Alex' side and rode him around the yard for a while. It wasn't long before Alex was struggling under the weight, his tired muscles flexing and straining with every movement. Sebastian reined him in with the leash and smacked his hand against Alex' behind to urge him forward.

"Creative, isn't he?" Robert observed with a laugh.

He was certainly that. Wickedly so. Like master, like slave.

"I can't believe you let him have an orgasm, Sam," my old friend continued.

Samuel Collins gave us a sly glance. "One cannot desire what one has never had, my dear Robert. Now that he knows the pleasure, denying it will be exquisite torture."

Robert and I both shook our heads. "You really are evil," we told him in unison. "You know that."

He rose and bowed theatrically.

"Dinner's about ready, sirs," Michael called from the grill.

Salmon. Lightly seasoned and perfectly done. Michael does have a knack for these things. He took Alex and Sebastian with him into the house to bring out everything else. I heard some clattering of dishes through the open door, but soon they reappeared, the junior slaves following on Michael's heels, carrying bowls and plates. An appealing scene.

When everything was set, Michael and Seb joined us at the table. Alex was our serving boy. Walking round to each of us, presenting one bowl and tray after another until our plates were full. Michael himself served the main course. I walked Alex back to the porch and wrapped his leash around the railing, tethering him securely. I left him standing there and returned to the late summer feast. Alex looked on from across the yard, alone, licking his lips at the wonderful food he'd been so close to, but was not allowed to touch.

As we finished, we all scraped our plates onto one and I took it over to him and laid it at his feet. Alex squatted down and looked up at me for permission.

"Eat."

It was mostly slop, half-cold, the remains of our meal and nothing more. I gave him a piece of bread to sop up the juices on the plate. He ate with his hands, greedily. When he was finished, I held the plate to his face.

"Lick it clean."

He did, until it was almost pure white again. Robert brought me a napkin. I knelt down and cleaned Alex' hands.

"On your feet, Alex."

"Yes, sir."

The first words he'd spoken in hours.

"Do you need to piss?" I asked.

He nodded. All of us were surrounding him now.

"Then do it right here."

His head fell to his chest. He closed his eyes and stood there motionless, his arms limp at his sides. Soon a pale yellow stream was pouring from the hole in the metal pod that encased his genitals. It splattered over his bare feet. Alex looked up when he was done.

"Good boy."

I unwound his leash from the rail and we walked him over to the side of the barn, where the hose lay coiled and waiting. Alex hadn't had a bath since the hunt. He was filthy and smelly. With four of us working on him, the leather came off quickly and was given to the young redhead for safekeeping. Grabbing up some loose discarded rope, weatherworn and frayed, we tied Alex' hands behind his back and stood him up against the wall. I knelt down and tied his ankles together, making several passes with the coarse thick hemp. His knees were next. His tired eyes pleaded with me.

I roughly ran my fingers through his hair, dirty and tangled. Robert turned the water on, and we took our time hosing the boy down. Bound as he was, there was no way he could shield himself from the frigid blasts of cold water. Exhausted as he was, he didn't bother to try.

"Turn around, Alex," I said when Sam momentarily stopped the flow.

Alex struggled on his bound feet, but with an endearing hop managed to do as he was told. His bath resumed. Finally, the boy fell over, lying helpless on his side, crying softly to himself.

"That's enough," I said. Sam wound up the hose. I stood over my boy for a moment, then gestured Robert over. The ropes were soaked and swollen and it took us some time to get them off. His hands we left tied. Alex just lay there, silent, shivering.

"On your feet, boy," Robert called out sternly, swatting the boy's behind. Alex managed to stagger to his knees, then slowly to his feet. Biting his lower lip, he stared at us blankly. That playful fire that lit his sweet soft eyes was gone. Alex was deep inside somewhere. Alone. Battered by those he trusted. Worn beyond his endurance by those he loved. Hiding.

We marched him back to the house and into the living room. There we cut the ropes that bound his hands. The marks they'd left were deep and red. Sebastian dutifully, almost reverently, laid all of Alex' leather gear at the older boy's feet. I could see by the gleam in the little redhead's eyes that he desperately wanted to be the one to do it.

"No. Stay there, Sebastian," I said, approaching the two boys. I put my hand under Alex' chin and raised his eyes to mine.

"You made Sebastian cum, didn't you?"

Alex lips quivered before he spoke. "Yes, master."

"Why did you do that?"

He looked at Seb, who turned his own eyes away in guilt. Alex pointed at the skinny little redhead. "He 3; he made me do it."

"You're bigger than he is, Alex. He can't make you do anything."

"But 3; I had to 3; I had to do what he told me 3; you said, I mean Michael said, somebody said 3;" Tears were running from his eyes.

"You need to be punished, don't you?"

Alex lowered his head again. His voice was small and fragile when he spoke, repeating my words from a moment ago "I need to be punished, sir." And then his own words from that day I found him in the barn, whispered to himself in a young and frightened voice. Words I suddenly knew he'd been taught and made to say many times before. "Bad boys have to be punished."

"Yes they do," I said softly. Together Robert and I locked his wrist and ankle cuffs in place. Then I took his collar and placed it in Michael's hands, dropping the tiny brass lock into his open palm. "Michael, please collar him."

Robert pushed Alex to his knees. Michael stepped forward with trembling hands. He held the collar close for a moment, running his fingers over the soft leather, then he held it out and started to place it around Alexander's slender neck. The boy's eyes widened in sudden unspeakable horror.

"No!" he shouted, loud and shrill, a mournful sorrowful cry of pain and anguish. "No!" He pushed Michael away and scrambled to his feet, sobbing and crying. I tried to put my arms around him, but his fists flew at me in rage. "You promised! You promised you'd never 3; I'm supposed to be yours, yours forever. Remember! Remember!"

He continued to batter me with angry blows, even as I held him.

"Alex."

"Liar! That's all you are! It's all your fault. Everything. Why don't you just go get high again and leave me alone." His last words were spoken in a low, cold voice, and his hazel eyes were daggers. "I hate you."

I let him go. I'd been expecting to hear those words for years, but when they finally came, I wasn't prepared for the power held within them. I didn't know what to do. Or what to say. Or how I could ever undo what I'd done to him all those years ago, when I gave him away.

Alex fell to his knees.

"Butterfly."

And he curled himself into a little ball, shaking and sobbing and crying. We, all of us, just stood there, silenced and stricken by pain too deep, by a boy's wounds too raw to touch.

We didn't leave him. We couldn't leave him. We all knelt down on the soft rug, surrounding him. Sam held Sebastian close. Michael wept openly. Through my own tears I gazed down at my brother, this boy who was so special to me. Suddenly his nakedness seemed wrong. I grabbed a blanket from the sofa and laid it gently over his trembling frame. Alex clung to it desperately.

And for a while that was all we did. Sit by him, touch him gently every time he trembled or stifled a sob. Just letting him know he was not alone. He wouldn't talk, or look at any of us. If we tried to take his hand, he'd quickly move it away.

I spoke softly into his ear. "Please tell me I haven't lost you."

Alex didn't answer. And so I sat there with him, with all those who loved him, and we waited. Finally he moved his hand toward me, slowly, unsure. I reached out and squeezed it gently. He squeezed back, and he would not let go.

"I'm sorry." The pain still echoed in his voice. "I shouldn't have said those things."

"You had to." I touched my fingers to his cheek. "Now we can finally talk about it."

He looked up at me with weeping eyes. "I don't hate you."

"I know, Alex. I know." I took the keys from my pocket. "Come on guys, help me get these things off him."

Alex sniffled. "You don't have to."

"Yes I do."

When everything was gone and set aside, I got him up. Michael wrapped a blanket around him and we sat him down on the sofa. Alex leaned against me and I cradled his head on my shoulder.

"Don't ever make me go away," he cried.

"Never again. I wish I could take all that back, Alex. But wishing won't change what happened."

He leaned forward, hugging his arms closely to his chest. "Sometimes it feels so bad."

"Tell us," I said.

Alex sat up for a moment, then shook his head and leaned over again, staring down at the floor. "It's hard. I can't."

I put my arm around his shoulder. Michael knelt in front of him, gently patting his legs. "I know it's difficult, Alex. I know," he said it with the strength and assuredness of one who had been there not so long ago. "But you have to tell us."

"You've been carrying this around so long, Lexi," I said. "It's time to let it go."

He shook his head, but I could feel him shaking beside me.

"You've already said the hardest things. The things you've always wanted to say."

Alex looked at me with shame in his eyes, something I could not bear to see. "I was afraid," he whispered.

"I know."

"Tell us everything, Alex," Michael said, holding the boy's head between his hands. Alex struggled and tried to break free. "Don't look away. Tell us. Or we'll whip it out of you." Words spoken so gently I scarcely grasped their meaning.

Alex began to speak, slowly, often stopping himself to take a tearful breath, or to correct some memory he'd gotten wrong. Listening to him was all we could do, and it was painful. Devastating. Of course I had read the medical reports when Robert got him back for me, and Alex had hinted at things, awful things, over the years since. But I had no idea. I had no idea what he had endured, the hopeless depth of his suffering, the calculated abuse of his keepers.

There was the closet, dark and empty, where he spent days sometimes weeks, chained, naked and alone, hungry, dragged out once a day to use the toilet, punished if he had an accident during the night. I imagined him, just a little boy, lying there in his own waste, crying himself to sleep.

There were the beatings. A daily occurrence. Nothing so refined as a leather whip. Coat hangers on his thighs, electric cords for his back, belts and wooden rulers for everyplace else. He explained that often they would throw a thin blanket over him first, so they could beat him without leaving any marks that might show in school. He was slapped, punched, and kicked in such a casual way that it almost became routine.

"I'd get a boner every time they beat me," he said, looking up from his sad, monotone narrative for just a moment. "I didn't understand why. It just made them angrier. He'd get a ruler and hit it until it got soft again. They didn't care how loud I screamed 3; they didn't care."

There was rape. By the man and the woman both. He wouldn't talk about it.

"I 3; I started having orgasms 3; when they did it." His voice was small, filled with shame. "I knew it was wrong. It shouldn't make me feel good, but it did."

'Little slut enjoys it'

"No! I don't!"

'Don't lie to me boy or you'll get it'

"Stop! You're hurting me."

'That's what you want, isn't it, you worthless piece of shit'

On and on the conversation went, from some deep place in the sweet haunted boy's memory. Word for word, Alex playing all the roles, half laughing half crying as he relived his abuse. Finally he broke down in a fit of tears.

I held him as he cried, and he wrapped his arms around me.

"You are not worthless, Alex," I said. That word had repeated itself far too often.

"Then why did you let them take me away? Why didn't you 3; why didn't you 3; I must have been worthless. Why else 3; I mean, what was I supposed to think?"

"I'm so sorry, Alex."

"That's what always hurt the most," he said, and the torrent was then unleashed. He wasn't shouting or yelling, there wasn't even anger in his voice, just pain and truth. "And then you started giving me away again. First to Robert, then Bartholomew, and then Vincent 3; ", he gazed up for a moment, his hazel eyes swimming, "I wasn't going to let it hurt me anymore. I was going to make it hurt you instead. So I just kept going."

"Is that why you wouldn't use your safeword, honey?"

He nodded. "I had to show you I didn't care what you did. I know you wanted me to say it, lots of times, but I had to show you."

I stroked Alex' hair. Robert handed him a tissue, and the boy quickly wiped his eyes.

"And then you gave Mike my collar. I thought it was for real. So I said it. I said all those things. And now I've ruined everything."

"No you haven't, Alex. I shouldn't have done that. I know what the collar means to you. I promise no one else but me will ever put it on you again, until you're ready."

Michael reached into the blanket and took Alexander's hands. A warm, loving smile crossed his handsome face as he spoke. "Until we're both ready, Alex."

My wonderful boy was in tears again, but this time they were accompanied by a delicate, beautiful smile.

"You are loved, Alex," I said. "And not just by me. Look around, sweetheart."

He did, and he saw and felt the warmth surrounding him. We all stayed beside him for the longest time. Alex never once left my arms. There were more tears, more memories, but there was also gentle laughter. The sun was actually rising on a new day, when Alex finally closed his eyes.

I invited our dear friends to stay and get some rest, and I gently woke Alex to get him upstairs. The bathroom was our first destination. I got the shower nice and warm for him and watched the boy carefully as he stood under the stream, the water running down his face and over his smooth skin. He didn't move.

"Soap up," I told him.

"Huh? Oh. Right." He turned his lean frame away from me and washed himself, sighing contentedly as the warm water soothed his tired and aching young muscles. The soap squirted out of his wet hands and landed between his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, then slowly went down to his knees. "I can't get up," he said to me, his voice tired and distant, his body no doubt already asleep.

I reached in and helped him to his feet.

"Rinse," I said.

He turned himself awkwardly in a full circle. There were still trails of soap running down his legs when he stepped out.

I had a soft towel waiting for him, and he buried himself in it as I lovingly dried him. He started crying again and looked at me with sad wistful eyes.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"Slow down and take our time," I answered.

He nodded and wiped his eyes. "I'm too old to be crying like this."

"I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Alex silently agreed that was a good idea, and I led him to his bedroom. The simple paper with the words 'slave's room' written in his own hand was still taped beside the doorframe. We did not take it down. The chains were still there at the four corners of his bed. We did not remove them. But we could ignore them if we chose, and that's what we did.

I laid him down and pulled the blankets over him. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan spin round and round.

"Sleep, Alex," I said.

He rolled over onto his side. His eyelids fluttered and closed. Alex' longest day had ended.

The house was still asleep when I woke up. It would be several days yet before everyone's clocks returned to normal, especially Alex. I checked on him, cursing the creaking wooden boards as I crept quietly across his bedroom floor. It was impossible not to announce yourself in this old place. Alex didn't stir, and I found him just as I'd left him, sleeping soundly. He was on his stomach, his arms splayed out, his head nearly off the pillow. One bare leg hung out from the blankets, a naked foot dangling off the side of the bed. Alex was a light sleeper, and I didn't dare return it under the covers.

I went down the hall, running into a sleepy-eyed Sebastian who'd gotten up to relieve himself.

"Morning, sir," he mumbled with a yawn as he toddled back to bed.

"It's evening, Seb," I replied with a grin.

"Oh. Whatever." And that was the last I saw of him for several more hours.

The door to Robert and Michael's room was closed, so I was fairly sure I knew what was going on in there. I was surprised to find Robert alone when I got downstairs. He was on the back porch, leaning against the railing and staring off at the rounded tree-covered mountains in the distance.

"It's a nice setting, Steven," he said without turning around.

"Can I get you something?" I asked. "I think I've still got an old bottle of wine around here."

"That would be lovely."

I rummaged around in the pantry until I found it. Growing up, there was a true wine closet where the flour and sugar now lived. It had always been well stocked with the finest vintage. I smiled, remembering the sneaking of my first drink at age eleven. I was sick for two days. I'd gotten rid of that closet as soon as I moved back in. But one lonely bottle did remain. I found a wineglass for Robert and presented it to him with my compliments.

He sipped it slowly and we sat down together on the porch as the sun began to set.

"How is he?"

"Still sleeping."

"He will be for a while yet."

"Tell me the truth, Robert. Was I wrong to start this?"

He sighed and pressed the glass to his bearded lips. "If you hadn't, he would have found more dangerous ways to hurt himself. He carried a burden no child ever should, and it was poisoning him, slowly. Now you tell me, would he ever have been able to say those things, if you hadn't helped him, if you hadn't pushed him?"

"No."

"Alex is who he is, Steven. His past complicates that a great deal, but it does not change it. He still needs a master."

"And he still has one."

"I'm pleased to hear it. And he's lucky to have someone who loves him, someone to guide him."

"He asked me what we're supposed to do now."

Robert set his glass on the small table between us. "And your answer?"

"I told him we'll take our time."

"Good. He needs a chance to think. And he still has so much to learn. You both do. Let him set the pace for a while. Rein him in if you think he's going too fast. Push him when you feel you need to, but never too hard. He's vulnerable right now, Steven. Don't take unfair advantage. But," he said, raising an eyebrow at me, "don't you ever lower your expectations of him, as a slave or as a young man."

"Thanks," I replied. "I don't know where we'd be today without you."

"I just offered you the opportunity," he said, reaching over and taking my hand. "You were the one who got yourself cleaned up 3; and stayed that way. The credit is yours. As far as Alex is concerned, I'm honored you've both put your faith in me. I trust I've not abused it."

"Not for a minute. Alex adores you. You scare him to death sometimes, but he adores you."

"I have that effect on people."

I laughed, and got up for a moment to turn on the porch lights. "What are we going to do about the two of them?" I asked as I sat back down. He knew what I meant.

Michael and Alex.

We needed to talk about that.

"Michael and Alex. That has a nice sound to it, doesn't it?"

"It does. Alex is in love with him."

"Michael has said the same to me."

"It's too soon for them," I said quietly.

"I agree. It's not time. Michael has college to think about, and Alex is turning into a full-fledged teenager. They need to experience those things first. They are still quite young."

"But we shouldn't keep them apart."

"Of course not. It's up to us to get them off to a good start. Let them learn about each other. Explore themselves together. We need to make sure we make time for their relationship. We can't keep our boys to ourselves anymore, Steven. There are things Michael will need to learn, things you and I can teach him, but Alex will need to be there when we do. It will be our duty to love them, and keep them safe."

I liked the idea very much. Robert continued with a sardonic smile. "Michael is going to have his hands full. You know that better than anyone. Mastering Alex is a difficult job."