[A/N: This is completly un-betaed...Please do forgive my horrid spelling! XP

Also, this contains Virgil/Richie, as in, boys love... If you don't like it, don't read it. Thank you!]

My Son

I knew it. Supose I always knew it, I just didn't want to face it, keept hoping I was just reading to much into it.

But it was hard not to see it now. The moment I saw them outside the door in the morning I KNEW what Virgil was going to say.

"Hey pop… Can Richie stay over?"

Such a normal question. He asks that at least once a week. But not at five in the morning, not with that look in his eye that I'm his last hope, not with his best friend klinging to his hand with a big bruise on his cheek and red eyes that he refuses to turn my way.

I knew it.

"Where have you been all night Virgil?"

He gulps and his eyes flicker, his shoulders shrugg and I know that he won't tell me the whole story, only the parts that I have to know.

"It's a long story… I, I mean we… It's… There… Is something I have to tell you dad…"

All I can do is sigh and let them in. When they pass me in the door I notice their hands, firmly laced together. I know what Virgil needs to tell me.

Sharon takes it the way she does with all shaking news. She shrieks and points and asks fifty questions at the same time. Then she jumps from the chair and ask the same things again, louder. Then she realises that Richie is cowering, as if trying to fold into himself and that Virgil isn't listening anymore. He is to busy stroking the blonds back, reasuring him without words that everything is going to be alright and Sharon remembers Mr. Foley and realises why Richie's cheek is red, fading to purple.

Then she is quiet, she walks over and bends down to wrap them both in her arms. Virgil klings to her, relived that his sister won't reject them. Richie leans his head against her, relaxing when he comes to the same conclution as Virgil.

Virgil. My only son. My little boy. Suddenly it hits me.

He is not so little anymore. He is growing past the age when I can protect him. He's growing up. And this, this scene in front of me, it's the prof.

Oh well. Richie is a good kid. And if I really did mind all this, I would have done something sooner. But in all honesty.

"Get to bed, all three of you. I'll call school and tell them you'r not comming today. Sharon, help them get the madress into Virgil's room will you?"

For the first time today, Richie looks up at me. He looks so frail and scared. I wonder what exactly his father said to him. I'll have to call and ask. Talk this over. Mr. Foley isn't a bad person, not at heart. I know that, it's just that he is good at hiding it some times.

I smile and pat the boy's shoulder as I stand. He smiles back and mummbles a thank you. Virgil swallows his teenage pride and gives me a hug before they leave the room.

I hear them settle down, the obligatory pillowfight, Virlgil's try to make his friend (more then a friend) laugh again. After he has succeded the house goes quiet. The morning sun shines in through the windows, the birds sing and I look down at the phone in my hand. One call left to make.

I dile the number to the Foley's.

I let the boys sleep past noon. Sharon has left, gone to the center for her counseling. I stand in the door for a while, wondering why I botherd to remind them about the maddres even though I had a feeling it wouldn't be used.

But I still can't help but to smile as I watch my son and his friend curled up together on the bed, sound asleep. I can't help but to feel proud over the way Virgil is holding on to the pale body, like he is ready to fight hell and high water to protect him. Can't help but wanting to go over to the man that I have spent the past houers arguing with and give him a mark as bad as the one he has given his son.

Probobly wouldn't help, but it would make me feel a bit better.

Still, I'm not that worried. Foley loves his son. It's just a matter of time before he remembers that. And I'm sure that my son can keep Richie from becoming too depressed in the mean time.

His mother called him her little superhero. I wish she was here to see him now. She would have been so proud. I pray she can see him, that she will watch over them. Things will be hard on them now.

I can hear her voice, clear as a day in my ear.

"Don't worry darling, They'll make it. It's Virgil after all. He's a fighter!"

I smile and close the door. Might as well let them sleep.

Richie is the first down the stairs. He almost jumps when he spots me in the kitchen, then he smiles weakly and comes in, asking if I have talked to his family.

I nod and he takes my silence for what it is. Bad news.

I ask him to wake Virgil for some lunch as I stand, but he dosn't move for a few moments, just sits there staring at his hands.

"Mr. H… You can throw me out if you are uncomfortable. It's ok…!"

I can't help but to silently curse the boys father for the hundreth time today and sit down again.

"Now Richie, why would I be uncomfortable? You have stayed here many times before."

"Yes but that was diffrent! Then we weren't…! I mean… Virgil didn't… It's diffrent!"

I smile, even snicker a bit, making him look up at me. I shake my head and explain.

"No, it's not so diffrent at all. You have always been important to Virgil. Now you are just important for another reason. It's all the same. I do admit I'm a little shocked and surprised and I don't really understand, but I won't throw you out and your father will come to terms with it if you just give him time. It's going to be alright."

I can see that he dosn't really belive me, but he smiles and noods, standing up to go fetch Virgil. He will understand with time.

He stayes for a week. I call his house but the few times I get to talk to Mrs. Foley all I get is that her husband is still not willing to talk. Richie tries to call once. I hear his fathers voice, loud and angry, on the phone and judging from Richie's clenched teeth he's saying the same things to him that he has to me.

After a few minutes Virgil gets up, takes the phone, tells Mr. Foley a few words I know I didn't teach him and hangs up.

He then proccedes to hug Richie for a long time. The blond makes no sound but his shoulders are shaking. I leave them alone. I just wish there was something that could be done.

But then again, Virgil is doing a good job on his own.

One evening when I walk down the stairs I see them sitting on the coutch, Richie crying and muttering about something I can't hear. Virgil sits himself facing him, one leg tucked behind Richies back and removes his glasses before pulling him in to hold him. His dark hand draws circles in the blond hair and the other does the same thing on his back. He hushes him, whispers softly over the sobbs.

It hits me, for real, that they are in love.

I remember years ago, when I lived in a small apartment down town. Years ago when I was lucky enough to met the most beautiful woman on earth. And when times got hard, long ago, she would sit next to me on the coutch, tuck one of her legs behind my back, remove my glasses and hold me tight, humming softly until it feelt like life was woth living again.

He truly is his mother's son. Her little hero. I walk back upstairs.

Mr. Foley comes on Monday afternoon the next week.

He stands in the door, looking somewhere around Virgils knees. My sons voice is a bit sharper then nececary when he ask what he is doing here, but I don't say anything. Richie almost backs away, but then he seems to gather up all his courage and walks over.

"I'm here to see him…"

Virgil still dosn't move from the door, not until Richie places a hand on his shoulder and gently puches him out of the way. He leans back against the door, still glaring at the tall man in the door.

Mr. Foley shuffles his feet, opens and closes his mouth like her dosn't know what to say, or how to frace if. Finaly, he looks up and places one of his big hands on his sons shoulder.

"Come home son."

I can't see it, but I belive Richie smiles. He nods and ok and Virgils glare softens. Mr. Foley still looks uncomfortable, like he wants to say something he knows he shouldn't say. Virgil of course notices.

"Anything else you got on your mind there, Mr. Foley?"

I see the tall blond man shoot a quick glare at him, then glance at me, and finaly setteling his eyes on his son. He raises a finger and growls in a voice that just barely qualifies as thretening.

"No kissing in front of me, got that?"

The boys snort and I can't help but to smile myself.

"Sure thing man!"

"Yes sir!"

Richie packs up his things and thanks us again for letting him stay. His father sqirms a bit at this but he remains quiet. I just pat his shoulder and smile.

"Hey dad, cover your eyes!"

But Mr. Foley dosn't quite look away as our boys kiss goodbye on the stairs before Richie moves to the car parked outside. He mets my eyes before he gets in. And as I smile, he frowns a bit back. Virgil closes the door as they drive away.

"Hey pop. Do you think they'll work it out?"

I put my arm over his shoulders, notecing that he has had another growth-spurt. He'll be taller then me in a year or two.

"I think we will all be just fine, my son."