Stories From The Island
House Party

Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for various MARVEL movies and television programs.

***

Having been listening with a slight, almost thoughtful smile on his face, Blake spoke up. "As an older brother who had to take on a parental responsibility... there have been times I've had to step in with Deacon, no matter that he is a good kid... even if he does make mistakes at times."

Bakshi, seated next to his cousin, snorted softly. "Don't we all..." he muttered.

"How long have you been responsible for your brother?" Clint asked curiously. "My brother Barney was responsible for me for about five years, until he got into some trouble with some bad characters and thought I'd be safer without him. Luckily, dad found me soon after he left..." He smiled at Coulson gratefully.

Coulson gave his oldest son a warm smile and placed his hand on Clint's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I've never regretted it," he promised, even as he looked at Blake, waiting for the other man's response.

"Since I was eighteen," Blake replied. "As soon as I could... I didn't want him to continue having to go through the system. Not that everything was sunshine and roses," he added.

***

Deacon finished making his brother's favorite dinner, checking to make certain the table was set just so and a cold beer was waiting for Blake's return. He needed all the help he could get to convince his brother to let him stay out late the upcoming Friday night...especially given his grades on his report card that had just arrived in the mail. He glanced toward the door as he heard the car door slam.

Blake let himself into the house, carrying a stack of paperwork and a burden that was much less visible. He was starting to get pressure put on him and subtle threats made not just against him... but also against Deacon.

Closing the door behind him, Blake headed through to the kitchen. "Hey, kiddo... thanks for making dinner," he said warmly, trying not to indicate just how much stress he was under.

"No problem!" Deacon bit his lip as he saw the paperwork and the stress lines on his brother's face (even if Blake attempted to hide the stress). Should he wait to ask? Should he ask immediately before Blake saw the report? The mail was on the counter where Blake could see it and the report from the school was on top.... Deacon tried not to fidget and instead finished bringing dinner out to the table. "I got you a beer, but if you want something else....?" he sort of asked his brother, wanting to make certain Blake was as comfortable as possible before asking his question.

"A beer is fine." Blake put the paperwork down and hesitated, seeing the mail... but he always tried not to carry his work to the table when he and his brother were about to eat. "How was school today?" he asked instead.

"It was good! I got invited over to one of the guys' house for this weekend..." he said casually, trying not to make a big deal about it, because he didn't want specific questions asked.

"Whose house?" Blake asked mildly. While he wasn't against the idea of Deacon spending time with his friends... the threats against his brother still lingered in his mind. A big part of him wanted to keep Deacon locked away safe in the house and he had to remind himself that Deacon needed some space.

"St. John.....St. John Allerdyce..." Deacon said, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal in the least and hoping his brother had never heard of his friend.

Blake frowned. "He's been arrested a few times. Not someone who's a good influence." While Blake wouldn't go into details, the kid's arrests were common knowledge.

"He's a bit rough around the edges; he hasn't had it easy and isn't as lucky as I've been to have someone looking out for him... but we'll be at his house. Not a lot of trouble he can get up to there and I won't be doing anything wrong...." Deacon tried to spin things in a more positive way for what he wanted to do.

"Deacon..." Blake leaned forward, placing a hand on his brother's arm. "There's still trouble you can get into at someone's house. Do you even know how many people are going to be there? Or who's going to be there?" His biggest concern came from the knowledge that the kid had started getting into hard drugs. Not that his parents had seemed worried, the last time they'd come to bail him out.

"S'far as I know, there will only be him, me and maybe one other guy that I don't know. It isn't going to be a house party or anything like that!" Deacon protested, even though he really wasn't certain about any of what he'd just told his brother and for all he knew, there would be a lot more people there.

"I'm sorry, Deacon," Blake said. "If it was someone else, then it wouldn't be a problem... but he's not someone you want to get mixed up with. He's in a downward spiral I don't want you getting pulled into."

"Aw...c'mon! He isn't that bad! He just..." Deacon struggled with words, trying to come up with something that would make Blake sympathetic toward St.John...but not be something that would make St.John feel like he was being looked down on if he ever found out. "He's had it rough, but he's stuck up for me in school a couple of times against bullies and he wants to be my friend. And even if you don't trust him, I've never gotten into trouble. How can you not trust me?"

"I do trust you, kid... but I've seen too many good kids get pulled into a downward spiral because they've become friends with someone who can't help themselves," Blake said gently. "Peer pressure is very powerful." And he couldn't quite hide his worry. Someone like St. John was someone he could imagine easily got to... and he knew he and Deacon were already in danger.

Deacon sighed, but didn't say anything, instead sullenly stabbing his fork into some vegetable and stuffing it in his mouth. He didn't want to argue with Blake; his brother had so much on his plate just trying to keep their small family afloat and make sure that Deacon was able to stay with him instead of being in a foster home...but it was still difficult. Once upon a time, his brother would have been right there with him going to a party. Now, Blake was more of a father than an older brother and the change in their relationship was sometimes hard to adjust to. "Can you sign the back of this envelope, please? I have to return it to my homeroom teacher tomorrow..." he mumbled, thrusting the report envelope toward Blake and hoping that his brother would just sign without bothering to look at the grades inside.

Blake took a couple of mouthfuls of food before he paused to open the envelope and look properly at the grades. He paused, taking them in, and then looked across the table at his brother. "I know you can do better than this," he said softly.

Deacon bit his lip and swallowed, his eyes dropping to his plate as he fidgeted. "I didn't do that bad..." he defended himself weakly. Of course, the problem wasn't that he wasn't doing well. The assignments he turned in, he did very well on. The problem was he'd not bothered to do or turn in so many assignments, his grades were falling.

"According to the comments made by your teachers, you haven't been turning in that many assignments," Blake said. "Are you finding them difficult? Or too easy that they're not a challenge?" he asked.

"They aren't hard..." Deacon fidgeted some more. "...I just don't feel like doing them sometimes and then I forget or lose track of time and it's too late...." He didn't say that, a lot of the time, he was hanging out with St.John instead of coming home to do his work like he was supposed to.

"Is part of that because you've been out when you know you shouldn't be?" Blake asked, wondering if Deacon was already being influenced by St. John.

"Why would I go out when you've told me explicitly that I'm to come straight home after school?" Deacon asked rhetorically, instead of answering. He put just the right amount of offended hurt pride into his tone to indicate he hadn't done anything and couldn't believe his brother would ask such a thing.

"Because I know sometimes wanting to have fun with friends trumps schoolwork," Blake replied. "I might not act it, but I was your age too once."

"I'm not doing anything I'm not supposed to..." Deacon muttered, not wanting to outright lie but not wanting to admit his brother had figured him out either.

Blake sighed, eating a mouthful of food before he spoke. "There are reasons for me asking you to come home straight from school." He was ashamed that he was considering giving into the threats... but he couldn't endanger Deacon, no matter what.

"Cuz you're a worry-wart?" Deacon mumbled, only somewhat teasing. He knew his brother worried...they were all each of them had in the world and Blake had worked hard to be able to get to a position where he could bring his brother back home instead of leaving Deacon stuck in the foster system. Deacon knew this and was grateful. That's why it made it so difficult, though. His brother worried and as a result, Deacon felt like he had little say in what happened in his own life (though he had to admit, he had a lot more freedom than some of the kids his age who had both parents around to keep track) and it made him irritable. Then he felt guilty for feeling irritable and that made him more irritable and it was just a nasty, circular smorgasbord of negativity. Maybe if he admitted everything to Blake and told his brother how he was feeling....

No. That would just make Blake worry more and Blake worried too much as it was. Deacon forced himself to smile and gave his brother an apologetic wince. "Sorry...that's not fair..." he finally admitted softly.

Blake's smile was soft, if a little sad due to the path he knew he was going to have to go down. "You're right. I worry too much. And I'll try to let up a bit... but that doesn't mean you can go to St. John's house," he added.

Deacon sighed, but didn't argue. If he was honest, he figured he was lucky that the only thing Blake said was that he wasn't allowed to go; considering how badly his grades had fallen, he could have easily grounded him and made him check in everywhere he went, or something else equally embarrassing.

"But I want to see an improvement in these grades," Blake added. "Even if I'm not always here to encourage you... you don't want to finish school with less marks than you're capable of getting. And I know you can do far better than this."

At those words, Deacon couldn't help but blush and squirm. He knew he was capable of getting way better marks. His brother was right about that. School just never seemed to matter as much when he was hanging out with St.John, though. "Ok...." he finally said softly. If he got up earlier in the morning, he could finish some of the work. Staying up a little later would help him do a lot of it. He should be able to improve his grades enough that Blake wouldn't worry or be upset.

"Thank you." Blake finished what was on his plate and then signed the report card while he waited for Deacon to finish. He then collected their plates and utensils and walked to clean them up.

It was a subdued Deacon that followed Blake into the kitchen to help clean up. He really wanted to go to St.John's house... but Blake had said he couldn't. The thought of going against what his brother said didn't even occur to him, at that moment.

Blake began running water. "How much work do you have to do this evening?" he asked his brother.

"I have a chapter to read in history...with some questions I need to answer about the chapter. I have a few Algebra problems. I'm supposed to write a report on Othello....And I have a test in Biology tomorrow...." Deacon was honest regarding the homework. Listing it out to his brother, he winced; he hadn't realized how much he was leaving undone when he'd put it off to go out with St.John earlier that afternoon. Chances were, he wouldn't have even cared if it hadn't been for the fact his brother had just seen his grades and told him to do better. Now? He suspected it was going to be a long night.

Blake raised his eyebrows. "Okay, so why don't you make a start on what needs to be done first while I take care of cleanup? Then, in about half an hour or so, you can have a break and we can eat some ice cream."

"Yessir..." Deacon's tone was subdued and slightly shamed as he obeyed his brother, quickly going to retrieve his book bag and pulling out what he thought would be the easiest subject first. If he got hung up on something, at least he'd have the other items completed and wouldn't risk leaving it all unfinished if he couldn't complete a harder subject. Soon, he was focused on reading and answering questions.

Blake finished clearing up and then retrieved his own paperwork, trying to push the threats against his brother out of his mind. If it was just himself in the firing line, there'd be no question of doing the right thing... but he couldn't endanger Deacon.

After nearly an hour had passed, Blake put the paperwork away with a barely audible sigh. "Ready for that ice cream, kiddo?"

Deacon glanced up and blinked owlishly, then looked at what he'd completed, neatly set to the side to be placed in his book bag again. "I finished everything but studying for my Biology test..." he said, with some small bit of surprise. He'd thought it would take him longer to finish. "Ice cream sounds great!" He grinned, the sense of accomplishment and the thought that maybe he might have given his brother a small reason to be a little happier buoying his own mental attitude.

Blake smiled and wrapped an arm around Deacon's shoulders, squeezing gently. "Great work!" he praised. "I'll get that ice cream."

It didn't take long for Blake to have two bowls set on the table and for him and his brother to be sat down eating.

***

It was the weekend and Blake had ended up having to work late at the precinct. His new partner, Hoffman, had been in Fisk's pocket for a long time... and although Blake wasn't happy with having to become a dirty cop, he was allowing Hoffman to believe he was okay with it... if only because willingly playing along meant he was more likely to get what he needed to bring Fisk down.

As one of the more rookie officers, Blake hadn't been called into the disturbance at the house. It wasn't even until one of the more senior officers approached him that he took notice. "Heads up. One of the kids we arrested is your little brother."

"Deacon?" Blake stood immediately, worry and concern churning within him. "Where is he?"

***

Deacon sat in the holding cell, knees drawn up under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. Chris was going to kill him, he was positive. After all, he'd told him he couldn't go to St.John's house and Deacon had allowed him to believe that he would obey. In his own defense, Deacon hadn't expected St.John to invite twenty other kids...or to have the alcohol there...or the firearms...or the drugs....

Closing his eyes tightly, he hid his face against his knees. If he'd realized that his 'friend' was going to be throwing an all-out rave, he would have listened to Christian. St.John had lied to him about the actual plans, though. To say Deacon felt disillusioned was a bit of a mild understatement. He wasn't certain he could really call St.John a friend anymore, considering how the other teen had bugged out the minute the police had shown up, leaving Deacon to answer questions and bear the brunt of fall-out because St.John had told everyone else that it was Deacon's party.

Blake didn't really have a lot of clout in the precinct, but Hoffman had quickly stepped in... and as much as it made him sick to his stomach to have to rely even more on Fisk's underlings to help him, Blake knew he couldn't show that. When he was let into the holding cell, he walked over to Deacon and sat next to him. "Do I need to ask if you went to St. John's?"

"No..." Deacon mumbled into his legs, barely loud enough to be heard. He couldn't bring himself to look at his brother. After everything Christian had done for him...after all the warnings and admonishments to not hang out with St.John...after being told straight out NOT to go to St.John's house.... Deacon was positive his brother would be furious. Would he be furious enough to decide he couldn't take care of Deacon any longer? Would he send him back into foster care? He didn't want to leave his brother...didn't want to be anywhere but with Blake...but his actions certainly hadn't proven it. He tensed up in an effort not to cry. Had he broken enough laws to be put into jail? Had he ruined any chance his brother had for being a policeman? What was going to happen? He couldn't stop his body from shaking once the uncertainty and fear became too much.

With a quiet sigh, Blake wrapped his arms around Deacon in a tight hug. "It's all right... this isn't going to go on your permanent record," he whispered to his brother, though he didn't mention it was putting him in Fisk's debt to pull that off. He could only imagine what he'd be forced to do by Fisk... but at least he could do one good thing and make sure Deacon wouldn't go to jail or have a criminal record.

"I'm sorry, Chris..." Deacon said in a very tiny, subdued voice, sounding much more like the scared child that had snuck into big brother's room to sleep after having a nightmare, than the aloof, trying-to-be-independent teen he'd been acting like since Blake had brought him back home.

"I know." Blake stroked his hair gently. "Is there anything you can tell me about the party... who was selling the drugs... before we take care of the paperwork?"

"That's just it...I didn't know anybody...it was all St.John. He invited people; I didn't know they'd be there...I shoulda listened to you- he just told everyone it was my party and then when the police showed up, he ran and everyone pointed the finger at me...but I didn't know anyone or how the drugs were brought in or nothing..." Deacon sniffled, trying really hard not to cry. "I don't do drugs...you gotta believe me, Chris...I don't. I know I lied bout everything else, but I'm not lying bout that..." He turned anguished eyes toward his brother, afraid that, after all the other lies he'd told, he wouldn't be believed about this very important thing.

"I know you don't, kiddo," Blake said gently. "I don't need a scan to tell you that. But if you can, I'd like you to think about all of the people you did see... if there was anyone with distinguishing marks. There are some known drug dealers on file and if you can identify any of them, there'd be enough cause to bring them in."

"Yeah...ok...I think I remember some of them; they had tattoos. Some had scars. I...I think they were from a gang..." Deacon bit his lip, forcing himself to look up at his brother instead of hiding his face again. This information wasn't likely to make his brother any happier- and was proof of exactly why he'd been told not to go there in the first place.

Blake nodded and stood, keeping his arm around Deacon's shoulders and helping his brother up. "We'll go take a look at some of those files... then take care of the paperwork." Knowing he was working the system, even if it was for his brother, cut deep... but he already had some information on Hoffman. With luck, he could bring Fisk down... even if he might end up paying the ultimate price.

***

Deacon had done everything asked of him as far as identifying people who had been there and answering questions. While he hadn't known anyone that had been at the party, except St.John, he had a fairly good memory and was able to identify enough people that the police had something to work with. Turned out St.John had broken into the house to throw his party- it didn't actually belong to him or a family member- so police had a lot of fingerprints of the attendees. Deacon's testimony would aid in taking those who were 'adult' offenders off the street. It was scary to Deacon to find out how many of those at the party were actually considered adult; and how nearly all of them were in the most dangerous gang in the city. They'd finally finished questioning him and now he was sitting on a bench outside an office, waiting for Blake to come retrieve him and take him home.

By the time Blake finished with the paperwork, he was drained... at least emotionally. Agreeing to an illicit meeting with Fisk (Hoffman's price for helping Deacon), Blake stepped over to Deacon on the bench and held his hand out to his brother. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go home."

Deacon wasn't ashamed to take his brother's hand, even if it did mean being led out of the precinct like a five-year-old. Considering what he'd done and what his brother had just rescued him from, being humbled a bit and letting his brother be in control without arguing seemed the least that he deserved.

Blake only let go of his brother when they reached the car. Opening the passenger door, he waited for Deacon to get in, before walking round to the driver's side to get in as well. He put his seatbelt on and began driving. As he did, he spoke in a soft voice. "I'm going to need you not to mention this to any of your friends, Deacon. What happened in there isn't exactly legal." While he didn't plan to tell his brother the danger they were in, he knew being honest with Deacon was going to be better in the long run... and he needed Deacon to know the stakes, in case there came a time Blake couldn't protect him.

Deacon turned stricken eyes toward his brother and said, in a tiny voice, "You broke the law to keep me out of trouble?" He swallowed hard, unable to keep from crying as he suddenly realized the lengths his brother would go to protect him...the depth of his love. "I'm so sorry, Chris...I...I'm so so sorry...." His voice was quivery. "I won't tell anyone...and I won't go near St.John anymore. I'll make new friends...I'll be good and you'll be proud of me! You'll see!" he promised through tears.

Blake freed one hand from the steering wheel to place it on Deacon's leg, squeezing gently. "You're a good kid, Deacon... and I believe you just made a mistake tonight. We'll handle it at home between us, but I'm not going to let it affect your future. And it wasn't your fault that I broke the law... because I was going to have to do it sooner or later." He pulled up outside their house, turning to his brother with a serious expression on his face. "Have you heard of Fisk?"

"The business guy? St.John mentioned him once...said he was one you didn't want to get on the bad side of...Beyond that, which was a bit unusual, cause St.John never backed down from anyone, I don't know much...." Deacon sniffled again, trying to calm down, his brother's words that he would have had to at some point anyway confusing him.

"Well, St. John's probably right about that," Blake said. "He's someone who should be brought down... but he's got at least one officer in his pocket: my partner, who you met today. A lot more, more than likely. And he's been putting pressure on me."

"I...I gave them the perfect weapon to use against you...." Deacon whispered agitatedly. "If I'd just obeyed you, I wouldn't have gotten in trouble and they wouldn't have stepped in and... I...." Deacon gave Blake a guilt filled, heartbroken glance. "Ever since I was little, all you talked of was being a policeman and helping people and putting bad guys behind bars and now, cuz of me, you have to do what the bad guys say?"

Blake shook his head and wrapped his arm around Deacon's shoulders, hugging him close. "This wasn't your fault, kiddo. They were trying to get to me before tonight... but it was only today that I thought of bringing them down from the inside. I don't know who's in his pocket, but if I get enough evidence, I can bring him down..." He didn't add 'and protect you in the meantime', even though Deacon was his main driving force.

"But...Chris? If there are other cops in his pocket, how do you prove to the others that you were trying to take him down? You don't know who to trust...won't you end up on trouble too if you have to do it alone and can't tell anyone else? What if he finds out and...and..." Deacon swallowed hard. He may have been chafing under his big brother's rules, but he'd rather live under those rules forever than lose his brother. He whimpered, letting out a tiny sob.

Blake wrapped his other arm around Deacon, hugging him close. "I don't have much of a choice, kiddo," he said gently. "Fisk wants me in his pocket for whatever reason... if I don't pretend to go along with it, he'll come after me hard... and you'll get caught up in it." Sighing, he added, "As for him finding out... once I've got enough evidence, it isn't going to be just the police I'll be releasing it to. I'll make sure there's no way it can be swept under the rug."

"Please don't die..." Deacon huddled against his brother, acting more like the little kid he'd been when their parents died and he was about to be taken by the social worker, than the together teen he'd been before the night happened.

Blake tightened his embrace around his brother, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I have you to stay alive for," he whispered in Deacon's ear. "I'm not going to do anything to separate us."

"I love you..." Deacon whispered, still obviously upset, worried and feeling very guilty now that he was aware of what his brother was facing and that he'd contributed more problems and difficulties to the situation.

"I love you too." Blake tightened his embrace. "While you shouldn't have gone to that party, you are not responsible for the choices I've made and for how I'm keeping you safe," he said, gently stroking his brother's hair.

"Maybe not." Deacon sniffled. "I certainly haven't made it any easier for you, though...." He swallowed hard, shivering and holding more tightly to his brother.

Blake kissed his head. "Let's go inside, kiddo," he said gently.

"Ok..." Deacon answered meekly, getting out of the car before waiting for Blake to lead him inside.

Blake got out of the car as well and locked up before he moved over to Deacon, wrapping his arm around his brother and leading him inside the house.

Deacon sighed and looked around their tiny apartment with guilt filled eyes.

Blake closed and locked the door, then guided his brother through to the living room and sat down, gently settling Deacon next to him on the couch. "Is there anything else I need to know?" he asked gently.

"No. I didn't hide anything at the station..." Deacon said sadly. "I disobeyed you and now everything is a mess...."

"It isn't a mess." Blake hugged Deacon close. "I'll deal with it, kiddo. I'll work to bring Fisk down... make our home that much safer."

"What can I do? To help?" Deacon asked softly.

"Stay out of trouble. Don't hang out with the wrong crowd." Blake lightly tapped his chin. "Basically what you already know I expect from you. I know you made a mistake. We will deal with it, but I'm not going to hold it against you. I do trust you, kiddo."

Biting his lip, Deacon nodded. "Yessir...I know what you expect. I'm sorry I didn't listen....I was a brat." He looked down again. "I...I guess it was hard to admit I need to obey you now, cuz you're taking care of me like mom or dad woulda. I just keep thinking bout when we were just brothers and could have fun together and you didn't have to worry bout me so much..." He sighed and wiped a hand at his eyes.

Blake tightened his arms around Deacon. "I always worried about you, kiddo... I just got more responsible about not doing anything to endanger myself. You're smart enough not to have to worry about where you're going to end up, but getting into this kind of trouble could easily leave a permanent mark on your record. You disobeyed me and put your own future in jeopardy... and those reasons are why I'm going to spank you," he said seriously.

Deacon looked up at that. "You always worried bout me?" He had a small note of surprise in his voice. Slowly rising, he stood by his brother's knee before undoing his jeans, wincing when they and his underwear fell to the floor. He'd taken to wearing the oversized baggy pants like St.John and his friends wore. The kind that his brother had always said weren't really safe. Now he could see why.

"Maybe have a change in pants, too." Blake rubbed his brother's hand reassuringly and then gently guided Deacon across his lap, securing him with an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Yessir..." Deacon was bright red at his clothing malfunction; why, he wasn't sure...it wasn't like he wasn't going over his brother's knee, bare bottom visible, anyway. Still. He easily went where Blake guided him, shifting close enough that his brother could hold him tightly. He knew himself and he knew that when it began to sting, he wasn't going to be able to hold still and he didn't want to end up on the floor.

Blake rubbed his back gently. "I love you, kiddo. No matter what, that isn't going to change." Not wanting to drag this out any more and make it harder on both of them, he lifted his hand and brought it down in a firm swat that he then repeated.

"I love you too, Chris..." Deacon said quietly, his voice sad and guilty. And then the first swat hit and his breath caught in his throat, only to escape with a whimper at the second swat. Deacon shifted slightly, trying hard to hold still; he didn't want to begin squirming immediately. Surely he could hold still long enough for him to actually have a reason to want to squirm? Except...even if his brother wasn't harsh, the swats still hurt. And his emotions were already so close to the surface that keeping control over anything, even his body's inclination to squirm, was proving to be difficult.

Aware of Deacon's natural responses, Blake tugged his brother closer to his stomach and settled into a rhythm of swats, going down to Deacon's thighs and then starting over from the top. It was during the second circuit he began speaking. "You're a good kid, Deacon. You made a mistake, but it isn't the end of the world... not if you learn from it and let me help you."

"Ooooooooow!" Deacon couldn't stop the whine that escaped as the spanking continued, indeed beginning to squirm shortly before his brother started the second circuit. "I'm soooorry! I'm sorry, Chris! I...I w..want to be good! I do!" He started to cry softly, still squirming hard, even if it wasn't removing the target from his brother's aim. He wanted to ask what he needed to do to learn and let his brother help, but it was too hard to form the words around the tears.

"You are good." Blake's voice was firm, the swats acting as much of an emphasis to what he was saying as punishment. "But you need to trust me when I tell you something that's for your own good."

Deacon's squirms were weakening by this point, as he was tiring himself with the movement and the crying. Letting out another tiny little sob, he whimpered. "I...I trust you. I just didn't want to listen..." he admitted forlornly. "I'm sorry..." he repeated. "I behaved bad...I...I de...des...deserve th..this..." he said, before he finally stopped squirming and just let the swats land while he quivered and tried not to be too loud with his crying. And then he couldn't even do that and he went limp over Blake's knee and just cried brokenly. "...Sorry....so sorry...."

Blake stopped when his brother went limp and quickly gathered Deacon into a tight embrace, hugging him tight and kissing Deacon's head. "I love you... and I forgive you," he said gently. "I'm just glad it didn't go worse."

Deacon could only continue to cry brokenly and snuggle as close to his brother as physically possible. "I'll listen from now on...I'll be good and won't dis'bey anymore...and...and...I love you, Chris...I don't wanna be taken way from you...I don't wanna hafta leave you or be sent away and I'm sorry!"

Blake just tightened his embrace. "You're not going to have to leave or be sent away," he said softly. "I know you're sorry, but we've dealt with that and we can move past it. I'm not angry or disappointed," he promised.

"I love you..." Deacon repeated softly, his tears finally slowing enough that he could be understood clearly again. He didn't try and get up, though, continuing to hold onto his brother as tightly as he could. "...I'll make you proud of me...I'll do really good in school and get into university and I'll be someone you can be proud of..." he finally said softly. "...And if you don't want me to hang out with someone, I'll listen...you have to like my friends..." he finished, making it a promise in his head, even if he didn't state it was a promise out loud.

"I am proud of you, kiddo," Blake said, not so much as loosening his hold on his brother. He pressed a kiss to the top of Deacon's head. "I love you. There's nothing that could ever stop that being true."

***

"When we met the kid...he seemed very responsible and heading for great things....he must have kept his word to you..." Tony said softly, a tiny smile on his face.

Blake nodded. "To be honest, apart from that short time... Deacon's always been a good kid. He never got mixed up with the wrong people after that."

"He just needed to know his place with you..." Bobbi said softly. "...So much had changed, he needed you to help him adjust...probably..." She blushed faintly, as everyone glanced in her direction.

"Haven't we all needed that at some point or other?" Bucky smiled at his niece, pulling both his sons closer and kissing them on top of their heads.

Steve smiled. "I think that's a normal thing for family members to experience."

Blake nodded to Bobbi. "You're probably right. He's much happier now, at least." He glanced around at the others, noticing it wasn't quite late enough to be turning in for the night. "So who's next?"