Part 4

"I mean it." Rolf said, putting a hand across the door to block
Matthew getting past and evading his eye. "Bed tonight by ten, I'll
be home Sunday morning."

Matthew managed something approximating a sullen nod and followed
Rolf out to the car, watching him sling his overnight bag into the
trunk.

"I'll call tonight, let you know I made it in. I'll be busy all day
Saturday but if you need something call me and if I don't answer
right away I'll call you back. Make sure you eat and that it's
food, not junk." Rolf put the rolled up drawings into the back seat
and shut the door.

"No computer or-"

"I KNOW," Matthew snapped, his short temper getting shorter still.
He gulped when Rolf pulled his arm, thinking he was about to get
swatted. Instead, Rolf's lips closed on his in a hungry kiss that
took his breath away.

Once he was released it took a moment to remember what they'd been
talking about and his _expression was caught half way between a pout
and a realisation that however mad he was right now, Rolf being away
overnight was never exactly a GOOD thing.

"Behave," Rolf told him, taking extremely mean advantage. "I'll see
you Sunday." He snatched another, quicker kiss and Matthew stepped
back, folding his arms to watch him get into the car and back it
down off the drive.

Once Rolf was out of sight, Matthew went back into the house,
slamming the door soundly for good measure since Rolf wasn't there
to correct him for it. He flopped onto the couch and stared
daggers at the television, wondering how he was going to fill a
Friday night alone.

Not finding anything interesting on the television, he headed into
the kitchen and tried to come up with something approximating
dinner. Finding nothing that sounded good, he picked up the phone
and called the local pizza delivery and within an hour was stuffed
and miserable from too much pizza.

The basic fact stood: that he was mad with Rolf. Thoroughly and
seriously mad with Rolf. Who was now in another state for the
weekend, which was not at all good when you wanted to yell, sulk
where it actually had some kind of effect, and make up until you
felt better about things.

The row last night had been short, fierce, and Rolf had won it hands
down. He usually did. Matthew had let his temper get the better of
him and said something he didn't mean. Rolf took exception to it
and here he was, stuck inside for the weekend with a very looked
forward to hockey match out of the question.

He tried finding something good to watch on television but in his
current mood nothing was going to work. Figuring maybe a hot bath
might help him relax, he ran the water and put in more bubbles than
necessary. When the bubbles were even with the edge of the tub, he
stepped in, and moving them as best he could to the side, slid down
to his neck in the deep tub.

It was not fair. It was hugely, horribly unfair. This was the
biggest game of the season; he and Michael and Todd and Chris had
taken tickets weeks ago, and in one awful ten minutes Rolf had axed
it as though it didn't matter in the slightest. And now here was
Matthew, alone for the entire weekend, computerless, phoneless save
for emergencies.

A cat climbed up onto the side of the bath and patted at the
bubbles - and at that moment, the phone rang.

Matthew stood up, dripping water in rivers. The cat took off and
Matthew grabbed a towel for cover, going into the bedroom to pick up
the phone. "Hello?"

"It's me," Chris said cheerfully. "Has he gone?"

"Yes, about two hours ago."

The tone of his voice spoke volumes. Chris hesitated for a moment,
then said more sympathetically, "Rolf came round last night and told
us you were grounded. I'm sorry about the game."

"Great. Nice. Wonderful." Matthew was getting chilled so he
headed back to the bathroom and got back into the tub. "Nice to
know everyone knows."

"Sorry." Chris sympathised. "What did you say to him? He wasn't
specific and it must have been something pretty bad for him to cut
the match."

"I called him a......a bastard,' Matthew confessed. "He just made
me SO angry, he wasn't listening to what I was trying to say!"

"You did......." Chris trailed off in disbelief, then laughed. "I
don't know how you dare Matt, I really don't! I could NOT stand
there and say that to his face!"

"If I stopped to think I'd feel the same way. It just happens
sometimes. DAMNIT I wish I hadn't."

"It's a shame about the match." Chris sympathised. "How badly were
you grounded?"

The match is enough. Just this weekend but it's THE hockey match of
the year. They're going to fight, I just know it and I'm going to
be sitting here doing Jackshit!" Matthew punctuated the end of the
sentence with a slap in the water, instantly regretting it. Wiping
suds from his face and spluttering, he grabbed the towel and cleaned
the phone. "Still there?"

"Just." Chris said wryly. "There isn't much you can do, sunshine.
When are you expecting Rolf home?"

"Sunday morning. He won't be around at all...on...Saturday."

Chris was silent, well aware of what was in Matthew's mind. It would
have been in his too.

"Do you still have my ticket?"

"Yes......." Chris said slowly. "But you'd be mad. Joe's going to
keep an eye on you this weekend, you know he will-"

"I'm not supposed to be on the phone, so I won't answer if he
calls. I can leave the tv and light on in the bedroom, make it look
like I'm there IF someone does a drive by. They know you'll be at
the game, as long as no one has a car here they shouldn't bother
me...."

"Joe will call on the answerphone until you pick up." Chris said
dubiously. "Rolf always does me. And do you really want more
trouble?"

We can go at the last minute and I can be safely home by ten without
worry. If they go into overtime I'll just have to miss it. Just
leave earlier, that way Joe may call me right before I leave. That
will work."

"You'll get shot if you're caught......." Chris warned.

"I didn't mean what I said, besides, he's being extremely
unreasonable anyway. I won't get caught. Was it Mike that was
going to drive?"

"Yes." Chris glanced at the scribbled note on the phone pad which
Joe had taken for him yesterday evening. "He was picking me up here
at six and then coming over for you - THAT will have to change for a
start."

"You could get lost for longer than that. Tell Joe you're meeting
everyone for a bite to eat. Take a walk, then have Mike pick us up
at the gas station on the corner of Oak and Timberline. That way no
one is seen here, you've left early and Joe should call sometime
after you leave."

"If he misses you and finds out, I had nothing to do with this?"
Chris warned.

"Of COURSE," Matthew said, sitting up straighter in the tub. "It'll
be fine, I promise. Maybe I'll even call Joe myself if he doesn't
get aroudn to it. He knows I'm mad."

"That would work." Chris agreed, glancing warily out of the window
where Joe was pushing the mower on the front lawn. "I don't think we
should get Mike involved though."

"Yeah, I suppose so. I was shocked when we heard he was going."

"He's not grounded now," Chris said rather wryly, since Mike's
recent troubles were well known to them all. "Although I think he's
got about an inch of lead different to grounding and he said Eric
warned him, if he put a foot wrong he'd be grounded again for the
rest of the month."

"Eric's being thoroughly unreasonable too. Wonder if it's something
in the air. Hopefully he doesn't know my problems."

"Mike might not." Chris warned. "Eric does. Rolf told Joe he'd
warned Eric you were grounded and Eric said he'd drive by the house
after his shift tonight and tomorrow night and check the lights were
out and you were ok."

"Lovely. I need one of those fake people to stand in the fucking
window so everyone can SEE I'm okay. Look, I'd better go before
someone calls and wonders why the line has been busy. I'll see you
at the gas station about 10 to seven, that should get us into the
game right about the time the puck drops."

"I'll be there. And I'll warn Todd. Just leave Mike out of it and
for pete's sake be careful." Chris warned. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye." Matthew hung up the phone and dropped it carefully beside
the tub. He felt marginally better having talked to Chris for a
bit, but only marginally.

The rest of the evening dragged on forever. Grateful that at least
Rolf had left the tv to be used, Matthew surfed and watched videos
and went to bed at ten out of sheer boredom. Rolf rang late that
evening, sounding tired, and by then Matthew was so bored that he
was grateful for the company, although at the same time annoyed
still more to hear Rolf's voice.

"Hallo Sport. Did I wake you?"

"No." Matthew said grudgingly. "Too early to be asleep. In bed
because I'm so damned bored."

Rolf rubbed his temples, having mistakenly thought Matthew might
have calmed down some. "I don't want to hear it Matthew. Did you
get any of the chores done this evening?"

"No." Matthew said still more grudgingly. "Watched tv. Couldn't go
out. Or do anything interesting."

"You know why that is -"

"That DOESN'T make it any better!" Matthew snapped.

"That is ENOUGH young man. I called to let you know I was here at
the hotel and doing fine. I hope that after a good night's rest
you're feeling a little better. Sweet dreams."

"You might at least TALK to me," Matthew protested. "It's bad enough
you're not here-"

"Can you be civil?" Rolf interrupted.

"I AM being civil." Matthew snapped back.

"I'm not going to sit and listen as you snap at me. You're in
enough trouble as it is, I wouldn't push it anymore now. Get some
rest, we'll try this again tomorrow night. I love you."

"Rooooooooooooolf......." Matthew said pitifully.

"Get some rest. Goodnight, love," Rolf said, wanting nothing more
than to pull Matthew into his arms and make things better. Being
away from Matthew was hard enough but to have him upset was even
worse.

Phones were horrible things. Matthew didn't answer, not wanting at
all to say the words that would end the call and hoping that Rolf
might continue to talk.

"Are you going to make me hang up without a word?"

"Nooo…." Matthew said pathetically. "I don't want you to hang up at
all."

"Say goodnight Gracie," Rolf said, one of their pet phrases they
used.

Matthew blinked on eyes suddenly full of tears and an urge to plead
that Rolf came home tomorrow night instead of Sunday, to forget all
about the hockey altogether.

"It's going to be all right. Sweet dreams. Goodnight." Rolf
clicked off the phone but didn't turn it completely off. Matthew
should be fine but the phone was available if he needed it.

Matthew held onto the phone a moment more, struggling with tears. It
was some time before he could put it down, feeling still more
horrible than he had before Rolf called. The weekend was vile.
Horrible. And it was going to go on forever.

Matthew slammed the phone down and lay back, blinking hard to
control the stinging in his eyes. Hockey. He was damned well going
to GO to the hockey and it was entirely Rolf's fault.

He curled up, pulling the covers up to his chin and concentrated on
not crying. He was surprised to wake up the next morning with the
sun streaming into the window.

Getting up, he fed the troops first, then rummaged until he found
something for breakfast. Being grounded meant he hadn't been able
to go out and stock the house with the foods he chose to eat when
Rolf was gone. He finally settled on a bowl of grits in front of
the tv.

It was the start of another long, tedious, boring, horrible day.

Rolf had left enough chores to fill the day, including several
Matthew recognised as pure 'time fillers' as opposed to genuinely
necessary. He sat for some time looking at the list with increasing
rebellion. None of them were things he wanted to do.

He finally decided to start on a few, using them to assuage some of
the guilt he was feeling about wanting to attend the game. And at
least they passed the time. He stopped several times to check out
what might have been on tv but as usual, nothing looked good. He
finally turned that off and turned on the stereo at full blast, able
to hear it anywhere on the first floor. The cats wore long suffering
expressions, but at least it was something that lifted mood. Hour by
hour time wore by and Matthew grew both increasingly edgy and
increasingly excited. It WAS a match he badly wanted to see, and one
he had been looking forward to.

At four he stopped, pleased with the progress he had made on the
list. Not everything was done but it was a fair amount. He fixed
himself some dinner, cleaned up afterwards and then jumped in the
shower. He stood in the closet for some time trying to decide which
jersey to wear, finally settling on the one he'd bought in the last
year's charity auction. He watched the time slip by, thinking about
Chris already having left the house. He waited nervously for the
call he expected from Joe.

The phone at last rang at approaching six-thirty, and Joe waited
through the answerphone message, calling cheerfully enough.

"Matthew. It's Joe, pick up please."

Matthew picked up the phone, slightly shaky in spite of himself.

"Hi."

"Everything ok?" Joe asked kindly. "What are you up to?"

Gathering his anger together to help cover up his nervousness,
Matthew replied "the list a mile long that Rolf left me. Not like
there's anything else to be done."

"And how much is done?" Joe asked, unabashed.

"Enough. Is Chris off to The Game?"

"Yes. What are you going to do with your evening?"

"Stare at the walls for another evening I suppose. Sound like fun?"

"I'll come over for an hour now that Chris is gone then." Joe said
without sympathy. "Give you a hand with the yard work."

Matthew panicked for a moment before he could speak. Deciding that
getting mad and hanging up on him would assure a visit, he swallowed
hard and spoke in what he hoped was a normal tone of
voice. "Thanks, that's ok. I got that done this morning since I
hate it so much."

"I can come over any way and keep you company." Joe said more gently
since Matthew sounded a good deal less irritable. "Would that break
up the evening?"

Matthew wanted nothing more than to tell Joe where to go, in fear of
his plans being foiled. Joe was making that harder being so nice
about it. "Thanks, it's ok. I'm not in a very good mood, I'd
rather sulk in peace if it's okay with you."

To his relief Joe didn't press it. "All right." he said mildly, "If
that's what you want to do. Make sure you're in bed at a reasonable
time and have something decent for dinner, hmm? What time are you
expecting Rolf tomorrow?"

"He said before lunch probably. Just didn't want to leave after a
long day's work."

"Call if you need anything. Goodnight Matthew."

"Goodnight," Matthew said, hanging up the phone. He took a few
minutes to try and settle himself, the adrenaline rush still working
through his body. He went around and fed the cats and cleaned up
after them, then made sure the bedroom light and television was on
for anyone running by before he got home.

When he left the house, everything was ready and nothing was on his
mind but the hockey. He met Chris at the gas station and Mike came
by a few minutes later to collect them, Todd already in the car.
From Todd's expression he knew: Chris had no doubt explained - but
Mike chattered with no idea whatever, and within a few minutes
Matthew forgot all about the illicitness of the trip and just
enjoyed himself.

The arena was full and the game, long awaited, was excellent.

They missed the drop of the opening puck, but the fight that erupted
within the first five minutes occurred just after they'd seated
themselves. Matthew and company joined in with the crowd and
chanted "Ref you suck!" when the home team was penalized 17 minutes
to the opposing team's 5. They watched as the opposing team took
the first lead, scoring on the two minute minor and silencing the
crowd. The chant broke out again for a moment, then all was quiet
again.

"Anyone want a drink?" Matthew asked, looking down the line of
friends.

"Coke." Chris said cheerfully. "Mike? Beer?"

"Are you kidding?" Mike said wryly. "Right now I'm keeping Eric VERY
happy. Coke will be fine thanks."

Matthew grinned at him and ran up the steps with Chris following.
Mike settled back in his seat, preparing to enjoy the next action
when he heard someone coming down the steps and glanced over. The
sight of the tall, broad shouldered figure in a police uniform was
always a welcome sight. Mike straightened up in surprise, grinning.

"Eric! I thought you were on duty!"

"I am." Eric said, moving to let Mike make his way into the aisle to
talk to him. "Just came to say, I was pulled onto the arena duty and
I'm here. How's the game?"

Todd blanched, looking back quickly to make sure Matthew wasn't yet
coming back.

"It's good, did you see that fight?" Mike asked.

"No, didn't see it. I just wanted to let you know I was here and
should be home a bit earlier than I told you before. I'll let you
get back in your seat before I get yelled at for blocking the
aisle. Enjoy yourselves." He nodded to Todd and headed back up the
steps as Mike got back into his seat.

"I can't believe you dropped that coke!" Matthew said cheerfully,
walking down the short corridor before the steps. Matthew dropped
the one from the front of the paperboard tray he was carrying when
he looked up to see Eric blocking the end of the tunnel. He saw the
expression change rapidly from genial police officer to someone else
Matthew knew a lot better. Matthew stared at him, his mouth open in
blank horror.

"Matthew." Eric said eventually. "Chris, can I have a word with you
two please? Let's go out in the hall."

Chris turned and led the parade out of the tunnel, Matthew
following, white as a sheet. He was still holding the wet tray, one
drink at a precarious angle. Eric took two quick steps and removed
the tray from Matthew's hand, dumping it in the nearest trash bin.

"What are you doing here Matthew?"

"Wa....watching the game," Matthew said, his voice shaking.

"And Rolf knows you're here?" Eric said shortly.

It was over. He was dead. About as dead as a person could be.
Lying at this point wasn't going to help matters, even if it
couldn't get any worse. "No."

"Christopher, does Joe know that Matthew is with you?"

"I don't know," Chris said unsteadily, unable to meet Eric's eyes.

"Then let's ring him and find out." Eric said shortly, pulling out
his phone.

"Chris has nothing to do with this," Matthew said quickly, seeing
the panic in Chris's face.

"Chris knows you're grounded, and so does Joe." Eric said, dialling
rapidly. "Joe? It's Eric. I've got Christopher and Matthew here at
the arena together. Yes. No, I didn't think so. Yes, I'll have them
at the front and I'll call Rolf. Thanks." Eric clicked the phone
shut and said crisply, "Come with me."

Chris and Matthew exchanged glances and followed behind Eric's quick
march pace. They were on the far side of the arena and between fear
and the quick pace, both boys were trying not to pant by the time
they got to the front area. It was mostly deserted, only a few
workers left to help the latecomers in and the sounds of the game
muted through the corridors.

"Face the wall." Now," Eric rapped out when the boys hesitated.
Feeling almost like criminals the two young men turned and faced the
wall.

Not daring to move, Matthew stood and wondered what any passers by
would think. They seemed to be standing there for hours. Eric's
radio buzzed a few times and once he spoke into it, but otherwise
there was silence and they stood- and stood- and stood until finally
Joe's voice said shortly from behind them, "Christopher."

Chris gulped and turned around, watching Joe take the last few steps
towards him. He almost giggled in pure fear, thinking Joe would
just go ahead and spank him right there. He didn't hear the few
words that Eric and Joe exchanged, just started walking when Joe
pulled on his arm. He didn't have enough brain cells free to worry
about what the night would hold for Matthew.

"Come with me," Eric said, making his way back down the corridor
until they reached a door marked private. Eric held it open and
Matthew headed inside, finding it to be a small office that appeared
to be used by the security force.

Eric shut the door behind them, pulled out a chair and pointed to
it.

"Sit down young man. You'll wait here until I can leave, and I'll
take you home. I don't want to hear a sound from you."

Matthew dropped into the chair, stomach in his boots.

Eric headed out the door, leaving Matthew alone in the small room.
He immediately dropped his head on his arms across the desk,
fighting hard the desire to cry. He didn't know if anyone else
would be coming into the room.

He was left alone for nearly an hour's agonising wait, with nothing
to do in the room but hear very far away the occasional roar of the
game. No one came into the room, although several times police in
uniforms passed the door. Eventually Eric opened it and Matthew
looked up at him, not at all reassured by the disapproval on Eric's
face.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

Matthew followed Eric through some areas that the local public
wasn't allowed to go. They exited through a tunnel into a side
parking area open only to arena personnel. He got into the front
seat and buckled up, careful to not touch anything.

Eric drove without a word to Rolf and Matthew's home, pulling up
into the driveway and turning his cruiser off. Matthew stepped out
and led the way inside, fumbling with the keys.

Eric waited while Matthew opened the door and put the lights on,
then shut the door behind them and took Matthew into the kitchen,
pointing to a kitchen chair and taking the phone off the hook.

"Rolf's cell number."

There was no sense in stalling. Matthew gave it without looking up
and listened to Eric dialling.

"Hi Rolf, it's Eric. Yes. Matthew's fine. I've just brought him home
from the arena. Yes. Ok. Yes. All right. Safe drive."

He hung up the phone and Matthew looked up, mouth dry, thoroughly
miserable. There was no sympathy in Eric's face at all.

"He's on his way home now and will be about an hour. He says to get
ready for bed, sit here and wait for him, he'll be home before
eleven."

"Yes, sir," Matthew managed, just holding on without crying.

"Have you eaten?" Eric said shortly.

"Y..yes. Before I left."

"All right. I need to head home. Rolf shouldn't be more than an
hour, go get ready for bed. And I wouldn't be anywhere else but
sitting here when he gets home."

Matthew got up quickly and without a word headed upstairs. He stood
in the shadows, looking out the window until Eric's car left the
driveway. He slid down the wall, giving into his tears.

He stopped ten minutes later, exhausted and worried about Rolf's
arrival. Getting to his feet he mechanically got a shower and
somehow even managed to brush his teeth. He returned downstairs and
tried sitting in the kitchen to wait. He couldn't sit still,
getting up and pacing the kitchen, his mind going through all the
various options of his impending death. How had he managed to
convince himself this was a good idea?

What had been - really - a relatively minor problem, something
nearly over and done with - was about to become a huge big ugly
mess. He couldn't have done anything much more stupid or provocative
or if he was honest, downright defiant to Rolf if he'd sat down and
thought about it. And he knew exactly what Rolf was going to make of
it too. There were certain times, certain days when Matthew had fun
being a brat. When he was in a playful mood, he had fun baiting
Rolf and staying one step ahead of a swat that he could tell Rolf so
wanted to deliver to him. On other days, he just frankly
appreciated the support that Rolf gave him to do things he either
didn't want to do himself, or couldn't make himself do. Going back
to school was always going to be high on his list of reasons why he
appreciated the discipline aspect of their relationship. Then there
were days like today that he wished he'd never even heard of the
word discipline, never mind lived in a relationship where it was a
constant part of. He loved Rolf, but something was going to have to
change if they were going to go on together.

And so Matthew's thought spiralled out of control. He was certain
Rolf would never want to see him again five minutes later and after
chewing on that thought for a few minutes, his heart beating faster
than he thought possible, he picked up the phone.

Rolf sounded clipped and out of patience: not at all an encouraging
tone. "Monet."

Matthew quickly hit the disconnect button, tears pricking his eyes.

He sat staring at the phone for a moment, then got up, planning to
grab his jacket and go somewhere. Anywhere at all. Then the phone
rang where it lay on the table. Matthew slowly released the breath
he'd caught, torn between fear that it was Rolf, and anger that it
was someone else and he wasn't supposed to be on the phone anyway.
On the third ring he finally grabbed it, gruffly saying "Hello?"

"Matthew?" Rolf said on the other end. "Did you just call me?"

After a short pause, Matthew said "It depends on whether or not that
means you're even more angry at me."

Rolf didn't answer that. Matthew could hear the sound of the car on
the road, the whisper of the air conditioning, and Rolf's voice,
still quiet on the other end of the phone. "What's the matter?"

Matthew sat down, his lip quivering and the tears threatening to
fall again. That was the voice he loved, the one he wouldn't hear
again anytime soon. It became too much to think about and it just
spit it out, sobbing as he said it. "You hate me now."

"How did you work that out?" Rolf asked mildly. "Matthew?"

"Because I went to the game after you told me not to," Matthew said
after a pause. "I might as well have just said 'fuck you!"

"I agree, although I could do without the language." Rolf shifted
the phone to the other ear, turning the air conditioning down.

Matthew had expected something more than just being casually
agreeable to what he said. It left him without any energy to get
angry and nothing to fight against. "I didn't mean to just..to
just go."

"Want to tell me what did happen?" Rolf said without heat. "I don't
think you went by accident."

"I was just angry. It was supposed to be THE game of the season and
you just said no. Then you left! And I'm supposed to do all these
stupid chores and just BE here!" Matthew stood up, pacing the
kitchen as he spoke.

Rolf's answer was immediate but still quite calm, just as if Matthew
wasn't yelling down the phone at him. "Why?"

"Because I opened my stupid mouth!" Matthew said, flopping face down
on the couch in dramatic fashion.

"And?" Rolf said mildly.

"I wasn't very nice," Matthew finally managed, calming down in spite
of himself.

"Is that how we talk to each other?"

"No," Matthew admitted quietly. "But it was all extenuating
circumstances, you know I didn't mean to say any of it."

"Do you think I ever get mad or upset or frustrated?" Rolf inquired,
pausing at an intersection by a red light.

"Yes, I know you do."

"Would that make you feel ok about me talking to you like that?"

"No."

"No?" Rolf said mildly.

It was his 'if you think you're getting to opt out of the tricky
questions forget it' tone, and Matthew sighed. Never getting away
with one damn thing was another major problem with this
relationship.

"No, because it's not pleasant, nice, nor needed," Matthew said,
practically reciting it from memory.

"How would that make you feel if I did it?" Rolf asked, hearing the
parrot tone and not happy with it, much as he understood the short
fuse and misery under Matthew's tone.

"I wouldn't liiiiiikkkeee it." He tried to keep the whine out but
it crept in anyway.

Understanding, as only he could, what not liking would involve for
Matthew, Rolf accepted that with shared meaning. "No. And I don't
like it either, which is why we don't allow it. It's not going to
happen. Done. The end. And I don't care what you have to miss or how
mad you have to get in order to be clear on that."

Matthew felt the pillow from the back of the couch fall against his
head. Rolf wasn't in the room, but the entire lecture still made
him feel as bad as it would have in person, and being face down on
the couch and under the pillow didn't make him feel any safer. "I
didn't mean it and I'm sorrryy."

"I know you didn't mean it." Rolf said softly. "I always know you
don't mean it. But that isn't the point, that is never going to be
the point and I'm not afraid of you getting mad about it. I don't
care a damn about hockey. I care a lot about not having rows with
you where one of us ends up hurt or running any risk of damaging us.
So being mad is not an excuse for ignoring being grounded and going
out to a match you were told not to be at."

There wasn't anything much to be said about that. As was usually
the case, Matthew could talk in circles for hours, yet Rolf always
made sure the conversation got back to the same place, which always
ended up being the first step to take on the way down the plank.

"Who else was involved this evening?" Rolf said after a moment when
it was clear that Matthew had no reply to make.

Knowing that Eric would have made sure everyone knew, there wasn't a
point to lie. "Everyone was there, we all had tickets."

"And did they know you weren't supposed to be there?"

"Chris did," Matthew finally ventured when the silence got too long.

"And the others didn't?"

"Mike didn't. I....I'm not sure about Todd."

That basically meant yes.

"Not good is it?" Rolf said mildly.

"No," Matthew said expressively.

"No." Rolf echoed, snapping his phone shut in the kitchen doorway.

Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear, confused for a minute by
the dial tone. When two and two finally added up to four, his
finger slowly worked it's way over to the talk button and he pressed
it, ending the annoying buzzing before he even more slowly worked
his way up to a sitting position.

Rolf stood where he was in the darkness of the kitchen doorway,
phone still in his hand. All of Matthew's early bravado or anger had
now worked its way into a soft ball-sized lump in the pit of his
stomach, making him feel very uncomfortable. It took a supreme
effort to look over to the looming presence he was feeling. Save
that it had Rolf's face. Fending his way out of the scattered
cushions, Matthew struggled up from the couch and ran to throw
himself into Rolf's arms, and nothing else mattered very much for a
while.

~ The end