Chapter Text
“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Griffin Stagg started his prayer as he usually did, clasping his hands in front of him as he kneeled before his bed. “I thank you, my savior, for allowing me to wake this lovely morning and live amongst my loved ones. I pray for the safety and health of me and my family, and in hopes that the missing boy, Billy Showalter, should be found. I ask that you grant me strength to face this day, and I ask that you help me spread peace among those I encounter. In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit; amen.” His voice wasn’t strong. In fact, he was hardly mumbling. It was early, and his family was likely sleeping. His father wasn’t a religious soul, and he didn’t like his children being religious, either. So, yes, Griffin kept his voice soft and low.
He pushed himself off the floor and tip-toed to his closet. He grabbed something simple, a t-shirt and shorts, and made his way to the bathroom. He changed quickly, getting ready and brushing his teeth. It wouldn’t be long before his brother came banging on the door.
“Griffin! Hurry your ass up and get out of there, I need to brush my hair!” Speaking of the delinquent, Vance was now knocking. He didn’t care what was going on in the house, never regarding anyone's peace and quiet.
“Sorry Vance, I’ll be out in a second.” Griffin’s voice remained soft. Well, it never really got stern or loud, it wasn’t his thing. He quickly ran a brush through his short, dirty blonde hair, and opened the door.
“Tch, took you long enough.” Vance scoffed, pushing past him into the bathroom. Griffin stumbled, falling onto the door frame. He saw Vance twitch and mutter something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Griffin just walked out, going to the door. He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his bag, leaving quickly.
Griffin enjoyed leaving early and taking in the scenery on his walks. It was cold outside, so maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to be wearing shorts. The November chill bit at his bare skin, causing him to shiver.
“I can’t believe Billy’s been missing for over two months…” he muttered as he walked. It wasn’t abnormal for Griffin to talk to himself, considering the fact he didn’t hang around many people. “I hope they find him soon. May God save him.” He closed his eyes and clasped his hand around the small silver cross on his neck.
If he assumed right, it was around five o’ clock, meaning there was still a couple hours before he had to be at school. Not that anyone noticed if he came, anyway. He looked around to see where he was, and he realized he was coming up on the park he would frequent on the weekends.
“Taking a minute to sit wouldn’t hurt.” He smiled, approaching his favorite bench.
It was his favorite for many reasons, the main one being that it gave him a good view of his surroundings. He enjoyed seeing how people worked, how they acted. Sometimes, he'd see people with their guards down, right after having them up for so long. Other times, he'd see people find their own group. He wished that it would happen to him one day.
It wasn't like he was stalking people; oh goodness no. He was just… observing.
His habit led him to notice things most people didn’t, anyway. So, it’s technically a good thing!
Like how he noticed that this one kid in his English class would flinch at loud noises and sometimes wince at certain people’s touch or when he sat down. Finney, he thinks.
Like how he noticed that a girl in his math class would sometimes flustered-ly stutter when her best friend spoke to her.
Like how he noticed Vance’s flinching and bruises that he knows didn’t come from a fight, the ones he’d brush off and act like they weren’t there.
His habit also led him to notice things about himself. Maybe some things he didn’t want to notice. He didn’t like to think about himself too often, not in ways like this.
He didn’t like to think about how he could never see himself dating a girl, no matter how objectively “pretty” they may seem. Nor did he like to think about how a lot of the boys he’d seen had looked attractive to him.
He remembers this one moment a couple months prior, when he was assigned a project with a boy in his class who was about the same height as him, had glasses, and had short black hair. He was sweet, smart, and caring to Griffin when not a lot of people were. His name was Ernesto, Griffin recalls.
“Stop.” He mumbles to himself. “It’s a sin. The Bible says that boy shall not lie with boy.” He echoes the reminder in his head, just loud enough to where he’s the only one who can hear. He tries to re-shift his focus on the people surrounding him.
Finney was walking to school with his sister, a bruise noticeable near his collarbone when the collar of his shirt slipped down. His sister, Gwen, had one on her arm, just noticeable under her sleeve, that looked oddly hand-shaped. Griffin could notice what was happening, but he wouldn’t say anything. He was hardly noticed, either way, and it was not like he could do anything about it. He did make a mental note to include them in his prayers that night, though.
The two siblings were talking and laughing as they passed the park, having a very carefree vibe to them. Griffin wishes he and Vance were like that. It’s too bad, though. He diverts his gaze to the park itself.
There wasn’t much happening, considering the sun had just started to come up, but there was still a little bit to watch. A mother called her daughter away from the playground that she ran to, and she whined while her mom scolded her about potentially being late. Two birds were chirping on the powerline without a care in the world. He saw a small group of bunnies hopping near the bushes. A black magician’s van strolled by slowly, weary to make sure it did not hit a child. “Cherry Bomb” by the Runaways could be heard if you listened very closely, likely echoing from someone's walkman being too loud.
“Huh,” he mumbled. “Vance loves that song.” He looks up towards the sky, watching the clouds slowly stroll by.
“Yo, Griff. Ya’ can’t sit here all day, you’ll be late.” Vance strolled over, standing in front of him with his arms crossed. Griffin looked at him, scanning his figure. He had two new bruises, one on his wrist, and one on his upper arm. Griffin could imagine there was more, as there was also a small cut on his forehead.
“Sorry, Vance. Are you okay?” Griffin remained seated, though sitting up straighter.
“‘M fine, don’t worry about me. Why didn’t you grab a jacket, it's cold out.” He unwrapped the jacket from his waist and gave it to Griffin, scowling slightly.
“Forgot. Sit for a little, we have a little time before we have to get going.” Griffin maintained his calm and quiet demeanor while he put the jacket over him, thankful his brother was here. Once it was secure, he grabbed his bag and pulled out a couple bandages.
“I guess you’re right. But if we’re late I’m gonna kill you.” Vance shrugged, sitting down and manspreading next to him.
Griffin grabbed his wrist and began securing a bandage around it.
“People will notice. You will shrug them off. You will get angry they came up to you. You will get into a fight. This saves you the trouble.” Griffin speaks, clarifying before Vance even gets the opportunity to ask.
“Mhm..” Vance mumbles, staring at his wrist. “Thanks… I guess.” The words are almost inaudible, but Griffin hears and smiles.
“Of course. I’m always here to patch you up when you need it.” He half-jokes, moving to Vance’s upper arm.
“Ain’t that supposed to be my job? As the older one?” Vance huffs in an almost-laugh, puffing out his chest slightly.
“Maybe, but you get in more trouble than me, so we can share the duty.” Griffin can feel his voice getting louder, so he internally beats himself up and tones it down. He doesn’t want to be a burden.
“Why you got those anyway? You don’t get in trouble, like at all.” Vance straightened himself up slightly, no longer hunching and taking up so much space on the bench.
“I… fall. A lot. You’d be surprised how many things you can trip over at once. My knees get all scratched up and I’d rather be prepared than bleed all day.” Griffin rambles, subconsciously wrapping the bandage tighter than he’s supposed to. He keeps that first-aid kit just in case he gets noticed that day and targeted. He couldn’t have Vance find that out, though, for that would make it worse for all parties involved.
“Griff, careful. That’s tight.” Vance winces, and Griffin immediately softens his grip.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He mumbles, finishing off his arm and grabbing a butterfly bandage for his forehead.
“All good. Y’know, if anyone sees this it’d probably ruin my bad-boy rep.” Vance laughed, trying to lighten up the mood slightly.
“Eh, I doubt anyone would notice. I’m never noticed by anyone. Though, you stick out like a sore thumb so maybe we’d just cancel each other out.” Griffin gives a faint smile before running his fingers through Vance’s hair and putting his supplies away.
“Yeah, you’re right. Hey, wanna do my hair today? I know you like doing it, and I don't feel like doing it myself, so…” He trails off, voice growing smaller. It’s clear to Griffin that he feels weird asking, but genuinely means the gesture. Griffin smiles and nods.
“Of course! Give me a hair tie.” He settles himself onto his knees, turning Vance to where he has full access to his hair.
Griffin started playing with Vance’s hair when he was probably about five years old, and Vance was seven with not much anger in him. It brought a sort of comfort to Griffin, being able to absentmindedly mess around with someone close to him. His father stopped condoning it when he cut Vance’s hair at ten, after his first fight. Griffin saw Vance cry for the first time that night, and let Vance play with his hair in return to maybe give him some of the comfort Griffin had been getting for three years. Griffin hadn't hardly been given the opportunity to play with Vance’s hair in years.
Griffin just gave Vance a simple ponytail, and it looked great with his curls.
“All done.” He smiled, patting Vance’s back.
“Thanks, Griffy. Now, we have to go before we’re late, dingus.” He lightly smacked Griffin on the head, standing up and brushing any dirt off of his legs
“Yes sir.” Griffin nodded, smiling and standing up. He knew that it was rare Vance would get like this, and he would soon be back to his meaner self. So, he would cherish the sentiment while he had it, messing around lightly with Vance as they walked.
By the time they arrived at school, the sun had risen and was blindingly bright. By its position, Griffin estimated it was roughly seven in the morning. He enjoyed astrology and studied space for fun on the regular, so it was safe to say his estimation was right. And it proved that when he asked Vance and he said it was 7:04. They were early.
Vance had people he hung out with in the mornings, so he said his goodbyes, shoved Griffin to the side, and walked away. Great.
Griffin was now alone until school began at 7:45. There was no one he hung out with, no one to talk to. He could people watch, but it was way too crowded right now even for the time of morning, so he couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. He eventually decided on going to sit in the library for the time-being.
He waved to the librarian as he entered, giving her a soft smile. She was always nice to him, even though she didn’t know too much about him. Griffin was happy about that.
He sat down in a bean bag chair in the back corner, and started observing. There weren’t many people in there, maybe a couple stragglers who needed to grab a textbook before school started, but he did see Finney again. He was looking at the astronomy and space books, skimming through them and running his fingers across the spines. He eventually grabbed one and flipped it around in his hand, smiling before going to sit at a table. He read and wrote down notes for roughly ten minutes before Griffin saw Robin Arellano come in. Finney flinched at the sound, and for a second Griffin wondered if Robin was one of the ones who bullied the boy and called him a fag.
He was quickly disproven when he saw Finney’s eyes light up and Robin run over to him and give him a hug. Griffin smiled at the scene, and kept watching. Robin spoke almost inaudibly, but Griffin heard something similar to “Still making pointless notes on space?” Finney scoffed and said how it wasn’t pointless. When Griffin thought about it, he and Finney were pretty similar. Not that he’d have the guts to ever go up to him, though. As he continued to watch the two bicker and have fun, he noticed a couple things.
He saw how Finney grew red when Robin would get too close. He saw how Robin would stare like Finney had hung the moon. He could clearly see how the two boys liked each other but wouldn’t do anything about it. He let out a small laugh and smile as he thought about it.
They were so…. happy.
Their love was so beautiful, how could it be a sin? How could one of the purest emotions be frowned upon, especially when you’re supposed to love thy neighbor? To love all? If God loves everyone, why are queer people frowned upon in his name? It didn’t make any sense, not to Griffin. Either way, it was a sin, and Griffin did not participate in sin. He didn’t care if Robin and Finney did, as they were happy and it was not his business. Their love was happy and beautiful, and Griffin could not hate it no matter how much he wanted to. It came naturally to him to respect them, but not himself. Never himself. His own love, his own puppy-crushes on boys was to be hated by everyone, even himself. What would his family think if he ever showed any interest in boys?
His thoughts are completely cut off at the sound of the bell, and he starts walking to his class, no longer paying attention to the two boys bonding a few feet away from him.
The day passes by in a blur of assignments and lectures and notes, and Griffin cannot wait to go home. He's sitting in his last class of the day, science, when he hears a commotion coming from outside. He looks at the door first, but he sees nothing from the small window. He then looks out the larger window next to him, and he's met with the sight of Vance fighting two guys in the parking lot.
Griffin's eyes widen, and he grows scared. Their father gets angry when Vance gets into a fight, and Griffin tries to stay out of the house when that happens. But today he promised he'd be home. Adding onto that, Vance looks like he's losing. Vance is currently on the ground, shielding his face as he waits for an opportunity to strike. Griffin sighs in relief when he notices the action, a punch in the gut to the one on top of Vance coming shortly after. He quickly regains his winning streak, but when he's beating the shorter guy's face in, the taller one pulls out a knife. Griffin catches the small glint from the sunlight and immediately runs out of the room.
He races down the halls towards the side exit, securing his bag on his back. By the time he makes it outside, the two guys are on the ground, and Vance is limping away with a stab wound or two. Griffin almost runs after him, but he remembers Vance's certainty on not ruining his reputation. Griffin decides to go the long way, and hopefully run into Vance a couple blocks away where no one should be following them.
He walks down the quiet streets, watching how the birds fly above him and the occasional car will speed past him. He sees the van from that morning again cruising by, slowly but not too slow as to stop any traffic, not that there is any. Griffin keeps his eyes forward, watching everything through his peripheral vision. He ups his pace, realizing that even with Vance's limp, he has longer legs and will get home faster. Finally, he sees the boy walking on a street ahead of him, and begins to run. He slows down, though, when he realizes there's someone with him.
Bruce Yamada is guiding Vance to a park bench, beginning to treat his wounds. Griffin slowly follows, hiding behind a tree so he can hear what they're saying.
“I told you, I don't need your help.” Vance scowls, sitting down despite his protests.
“You just got stabbed, I think you could use all the help you can get.” Bruce gives a faint smile, grabbing a small first-aid kid from his bag.
“My brother was gonna help me, I'm sure. I don't need you.” Vance has a hand over his side, likely where he got stabbed. Griffin also notices a slash on his leg, causing his limp. He smiles a little when he realizes that Vance predicted his action.
“I didn't know you had a brother! What's his name, how old is he?” Bruce smiles, cleaning up Vance's leg first.
“His name is Griffin, he's fourteen.” Vance says between winces, gripping the bench when the pain becomes too much. Bruce mumbles out a small “sorry” before continuing.
“I wanna meet him!” Bruce keeps working, disinfecting the wound thoroughly. Griffin is shocked by his words. No one has wanted to meet or know him.
“Why? You don't even know me, let alone him.” Vance mumbles, hardly audible to Griffin from so far away.
“First of all,” Bruce starts, pausing what he's doing. “I do know you, kind of. I know you aren't as much of a bad boy as everyone makes you out to be. I know that you're one of the ones who submit poetry to Mrs. Angelica’s poet wall, and I know you listen to the Clash. Second of all, if your brother gets high praise from you, he must be cool too.” He rests his hands on his knees as he speaks, bandaging Vance's leg after he finishes. Griffin is surprised. He knew all these things, obviously, but he didn't expect Golden Boy Bruce Yamada to know them.
“How the fuck do you know all of that?” Vance is equally as surprised as Griffin, a look of astonishment crossing his features. Griffin looks a little deeply at his expression. Vance's eyes are locked on Bruce’s, even though Bruce is focused on bandaging Vance's leg. Vance's cheeks and neck are a little red, and he's tapping a small rhythm into the bench.
Oh.
Vance likes Bruce. That was obvious now that he thought about it. Griffin smiles and keeps watching. So many people he “knows” (technically, because he doesn't really know many people,) are queer, and it's beautiful in each and every one of them. If only it could be beautiful for him, too.
“What can I say? I'm observant.” Bruce is a little red too, and he was hesitant in his answer. He finishes up bandaging Vance's leg and moves on. “Lift your shirt, I need to get your stomach too.” He commands, and Vance immediately complies, though growing a little red.
Griffin takes this opportunity to make an appearance, and swings back to the entrance, putting on an act of “I ran here as soon as I found out.”
“Vance!” He yelled, running to where they sat on the bench. “Are you okay? I heard what happened and immediately ran here.” Griffin made a point of catching his breath, holding his hands crossed over his head.
“Hi, your Griffin, right?” Bruce said, standing. “I'm Bruce! I already patched Vance up a bit but I still need to get his stomach.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, and Griffin only smiled.
“Thank you so much, Bruce. I can't imagine what would've happened if you weren't here. I mean, he could've bled out. I don't know what I'd do if he did.” Griffin put on an act of the protective younger brother, which he usually didn't like to show.
“Shut the fuck up Griffin, you know you couldn't give less of a fuck if I died in a ditch.” Vance scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Obviously I'd care. I'd be like “God, please make sure my brother is at peace with you in Heaven” every night.” Griffin crossed his arms, sort-of forgetting how he and Vance weren't the only ones there.
“Damn it I keep forgetting you're religious and use that as an excuse for everything.” Vance muttered, wincing slightly as he adjusted his position.
“Careful, Vance. I still need to patch up your stomach.” Bruce immediately turned back to Vance, getting out some more hydrogen peroxide and getting to work. Griffin notices Bruce's concentration, his carefulness, and his attentiveness. Griffin laughs to himself before sitting down next to Vance.
He sits there as Bruce works in silence, and he waits for Bruce to forget he's there. He doesn't though, because Bruce starts talking to him and asking him questions.
“So, Griffin! You're a freshman, right?” He asks, not taking his attention away from Vance's wounds.
“Oh! Uh, yeah. I am.” He responds, definitely surprised to be having a conversation with someone who isn't family.
“You wanna know something crazy? He was actually offered to move up a grade because of how smart he is, but the little shit declined.” Vance ruffled Griffin’s hair a bit, before the hand was swatted away.
“People notice a freshman in a sophomore class, Vee. I don't go unnoticed without making sacrifices.” He scowls, staring daggers into Vance.
“Still, that's really cool Griffin. I'm happy you got the opportunity, even if you didn't take it.” Bruce was still smiling, and Griffin was still shocked. It was abnormal to have someone be so nice to him, especially when that someone was super popular like Bruce is.
“Thank you..” Griffin mumbles, now looking towards the sky.
“Of course. Y’know, my sister Amy is a freshman too! You might know her.” Bruce is now wrapping bandages around Vance's abdomen, and it reminds Griffin of that morning where he patched up his arm. Griffin tries to think of Amy, and he's able to remember who she is after a second.
“I think I do. Amy Yamada, fourteen, long and straight black hair which is usually tied up in a low ponytail, best friends with Gwen Blake, very good at math and has straight A’s?” He questions, looking at Bruce's slightly shocked yet impressed face.
“Yup, that's her.” He laughs, ripping the bandage and making sure it's tight and secure.
“She takes math with me.” Griffin says. He can feel himself growing hungry, so he thinks he'll make Vance stop at the Grab 'N Go before going home.
“That's cool. You're pretty observant, aren't you?” Bruce is cleaning the excess blood off of Vance’s face making sure his nose isn't broken. Griffin notices how Bruce used the same word he used to describe himself just moments before when he didn't know Griffin was listening.
“I guess you could say that.” Griffin can feel his social battery running low, and he makes a mental note to leave soon.
“I am too. For me, it's because I've seen the real and fake sides of so many people from that exposure that I begin to notice things. I think it's different for you, though. You said you go unnoticed, and that probably led to not much to do besides watch people and how they act, right?” Bruce says, finally done cleaning Vance up.
“That's… actually right, yeah.” Griffin takes note of the similarity between the two of them. He also takes note of the wide smile on Vance's face.
“Well, sorry to interrupt your lovely conversation, but me and dipshit over here should probably get going. Don't wanna worry our parents, and yours would probably send out a search party in the next ten or twenty minutes, give or take.” Vance chimes in, standing up with a small grunt.
“Yeah, you're probably right,” Bruce laughs before continuing. “Remember to take care of those wounds, Vance. Put ice on them and all that jazz.” He gives a random gesture to Vance's body, and Vance just rolls his eyes.
“I've been in a fight before, Yamada. I know how to take care of myself.” Vance scoffs, slightly kicking Griffin's leg to get him to get up.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Hopper. See you around, hopefully.” Bruce smiles and waves before walking in the opposite direction that the brothers need to go in.
“Hm..” Griffin mumbles, not making any effort to form actual words.
“What is it?” Vance asks, leading him out of the park and onto the sidewalk.
“Hungry.” He signs, gesturing to his stomach.
“Wanna go to the Grab 'N Go? I could go for a round of pinball anyway.” Vance placed his hands in his pockets, probably trying to find any extra money he could get.
Griffin only nodded his head.
Griffin had learned ASL a couple years prior, after a certain incident where he went completely non-verbal and got in deep trouble with his father. Vance had introduced him to the idea shortly after, holding him close and saying how he'd been wanting to learn anyway. He'd been learning a little every day since.
“Alright, come on.” Vance turned the corner, crossing the street hand-in-hand with his brother.
The walk to the Grab 'N Go was short, and they made it there in no time. Vance went straight to the pinball machine, meanwhile Griffin went to the snack aisle. After a minute or so of looking, he grabbed a bag of chips and went to watch Vance play. Vance had all the money, so he needed to meet up with him either way. He tapped Vance lightly.
“Ready when you are.” He signed when Vance looked up, and Vance only nodded before going back to the game. He played for a bit longer, only taking his hands away from the machine when he lost. He hadn’t beat his high score, not today, but he still had fun nonetheless. He made a gesture for Griffin to go up to the counter with him so he could actually buy the snack, and of course he complied.
Vance paid, and then they were finally on their way home. Griffin looked up at the sky, finding the sun’s position. It was probably about five to six pm, considering that the sun looked about an hour or so from setting. Their father had probably heard about the fight already.
They walked in silence, though Griffin noted Vance's slightly agitated demeanor. As they rounded the block nearest their house, he hesitantly stopped the taller boy.
“Dad’s going to be mad because of the fight. Be careful.” He signed the words roughly. Vance’s expression softened as he nodded.
“I know. Just go up to your room, ignore him. Recharge, please.” He kneeled down to Griffin’s level, being oddly soft and completely opposite from the annoyance Griffin saw in him just moments before. Griffin only nodded. Vance patted his arm before standing up straight and walking to the door.
The door creaking open felt like the loudest thing in the world as Vance pushed Griffin in the general direction of his room, hopefully saving him the beating.
“Vance! Where the fuck have you been?” Their father’s voice boomed as Griffin ran, though he seemed to completely ignore the smaller boy. “Why did I get a call from the school saying you got into another fucking fight? You’re so fucking stupid. You know what happens to stupid people? They get consequences.” He was so, so loud it made Griffin’s ears ring. He watched as his father slapped Vance across the face.
Vance just stood there, taking each hit. Griffin could see a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. Their father took off his belt and began to hit Vance over and over in different spots. He targeted his back, mainly, as Vance was shielding his head with his hands. In fact, Vance was now laying on the floor curled up. Griffin tried to drown it out, tried to ignore it, but he heard the pleads and sobs coming from his older brother and acted on instinct.
“Dad, stop! Please!” Griffin yelled, having enough battery to hopefully save Vance. He ran out of the hall and stood in front of his brother’s hurt body, crying.
“Move out the way, boy. Stay the fuck out of this.” His father pushed him aside and tried to keep beating Vance, but Griffin grabbed his arm. He immediately regretted the action, as his father began to beat him, instead.
‘At least he isn’t hurting Vance anymore,’ He thought, trying to keep his mind off of the pain coursing through his body. His father eventually stopped, dropping the belt with heavy breaths as he walked back to the kitchen and picked up a beer. Vance quickly scurried over and picked Griffin up. It was a struggle with how much pain they were both in, but he managed to bring him over to his room no problem.
Vance placed Griffin down on his bed and captured him in a hug. Griffin heard the sniffles coming from his older brother and could only hug back.
“You shouldn’t have stepped in.” Vance signed once he pulled away from the hug, faint tear streaks in his eyes.
“I couldn’t stand to see or hear you get hurt. I’m sorry, V.” Griffin responded, trying to give a reassuring smile.
“It’s fine. Just, please try not to do it again. I’ve been in enough fights to where it doesn’t hurt as much.” Vance paused before signing again. “Hair?” It was a vague gesture, but Griffin understood and nodded.
Griffin began to play with Vance’s hair, just running his hands through it, parting it, and messing around. After a while, when they were both calmed down, he decided to say something about earlier.
“So, what’s the deal between you and Bruce?” Griffin signed with a smile, watching as Vance grew slightly red.
“There is no deal. Today was our first time interacting.” He signed quickly, and Griffin almost didn't catch what he was saying.
“But you like him, right?” Griffin signed with enthusiasm, though at Vance’s scared expression he quickly clarified. “Vee, I don’t care who you like. Love is beautiful either way.” His demeanor gave off nothing but support and love, and Vance immediately rested.
“Thanks, Griff. I thought you wouldn’t support me because you’re religious.” Vance looked sheepish as he signed the words, and Griffin felt a little bad.
“That’s a myth. The Bible says to love thy neighbor. But you do like him, right?” Griffin signed, a little hesitantly.
“Yeah. For a bit now, actually. I go to his games and stuff and watch him play. He’s nice to everyone, and nice to me. I wasn’t lying when I said this was our first time interacting, though.” Vance had a warm smile on his face and a glint in his eyes that Griffin could only describe as complete adoration. It was beautiful.
“That’s so cute! I think he likes you back.” Griffin smiles while he signs, remembering how Bruce acted.
“Yeah, right. He's just friendly.” Vance rolls his eyes playfully, hands fumbling a bit as he's signing the words.
“Whatever you say, but trust me. Just see where it goes.” Griffin smiles before laying down completely on Vance's bed.
“Hey! Get up. You have to go to bed anyway.” Vance says, voice slightly hoarse.
“Fine. Goodnight Vance, love you.” Griffin smiled before getting up.
“Love you too, kid. Night.” Vance gave Griffin a light push out of his room before shutting the door.
Griffin laughed lightly before walking to the bathroom and brushing his teeth. His body didn't really hurt that much anymore, so he was all good. He stepped out of the bathroom and went back into his room, changing into some comfortable pjs before kneeling down before his bed.
“Dear God, thank you for this day and the strength you have given me. I pray tonight for the safety of me and my loved ones whilst we sleep. I pray that Finney and Gwen's home life, or wherever they're getting those bruises, gets better. I pray that my own father gets better and stops hurting us. I pray that Bruce and Vance resolve whatever they have going on, and become happy; the same with Robin and Finney. I pray again that Billy Showalter should be found soon, alive and safe. Thank you father for this God-given day, and thank you for keeping me safe. In the name of the father, son, and holy spirit, amen.” Griffin speaks softly, eyes closed, his hands clasped in front of him. Once he finishes, he stands up and turns his light off, laying down and closing his eyes.
He's rather content with his day, and he's glad he got to talk to Bruce, no matter how strange it was at the moment. He drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.