Page 55 of Small Sacrifices

Reid snorts, because that's usually all the answer that he would dignify that question with. As if it's even an option that he'd make the first move on anything. He says as much and then, he adds, "You know your brother, he's very outgoing. I didn't even know I was attracted to men until recently."

He doesn't say "until I met your brother." Which is a good thing because he's already said too much. Max's eyes light up. "So you're, like bi?"

It's a near thing, but Reid doesn't groan in frustration. In his head, he's already had this conversation with his parents. And it didn't end well. But that's not Max's fault. Reid brought this on himself by not watching his mouth.

"I don't know," he says. "But I don't really care, either. I like Everett. That's all I need to know right now. I can still figure out the rest later, if I ever want to."

And he was maybe expecting confusion from Max, but not eyes this wide. "You don't want to… That's not important to you?"

Should it be important to him? Is that a thing?

So far, Reid has lived in a bit of a cishet bubble.

He's never had many friends, and as far as he knows, his entire family is straight.

Yes, he's interacted with queer people, but he's never really talked to them, and certainly not about queerness.

Well, except Everett. But what little they have talked about it, Everett seemed to take it all in stride.

"Well, I'm still Reid," Reid says. "That hasn't changed. The rest is just details. They don't concern anyone but me, and I'm not particularly concerned about them."

"Oh."

Things stay quiet between them for a while. Then: "You know, I'd actually really like a pizza."

They eat pizza and watch Heartstopper because Reid still has it in his queue and it's the only thing in there that Max is even remotely interested in because it's a) not a documentary and b) actually set in this millennium.

Which is fair, considering the fact that Reid can't watch the anime series that Max would prefer.

He just can't deal with the fact that the movements of the mouths don't match up well enough with the speech.

It's irritating. His proposal to watch the live action remake of Death Note that he recently came across is summarily dismissed. Apparently, that movie is "just no".

It's nice. Max is much more relaxed now, laughing openly and making little comments. Reid learns what a web comic is and feels like he's turning into his own father when Max has to explain it to him. How did he not know that?

But by the third episode, Max starts to shift on the couch next to him. Reid can feel himself grow anxious, too. Because Everett still hasn't called. Just to make sure, Reid checks his phone—but it's set to ring loudly and there are no missed calls.

It's around 8 p.m. But Everett said that he would call at 9 p.m. at the latest. Does that mean that he would have expected to call them by now?

Should they be worried? Max is. Reid doesn't know what that means.

He wants to ask, but that might make it worse.

So he just opens a bag of chips for additional sensory input.

They're somewhere in the fourth episode by the time the metaphorical clock rings nine. Still no word from Everett. Reid can feel Max's eyes on him in the dim light of his TV while he sends a text.

Is everything alright? You said you were going to call.

He stares at it for around five minutes, but the little ticks that mark a text as read never appear. After a few moments, he tries to return his focus to the love story on the screen in front of him.

Shortly after that, his phone vibrates with a text message and Reid almost jumps out of his skin. But the push notification tells him it's just Marisol, so he puts his phone away again.

In answer to Max's raised eyebrow, he says, "Just a friend."

Only half an hour later, it happens again. Again, it's just Marisol. Reid puts his phone down without reading it. He has company. He's not supposed to be on the phone when there are people around.

Marisol makes that difficult when she keeps texting him. Each time he has to look down at his phone and then up into Max's nervous eyes and shake his head. But Reid can't turn his phone off, because then they might miss Everett's call.

Just before 10 p.m., his phone rings. Again, it's Marisol's name on the screen. Reid holds it up so that Max can read it and then gets off the couch to pick up the call. "I'm sorry, I have to take this."

"Why the hell aren't you reading my texts?" Marisol asks as soon as the call connects.

Reid halts with his hand on the handle of his bedroom door, still in the living room. Something is wrong. "What's going on?" he asks.

"They arrested the fucking governor!" Marisol shouts. It's so loud that Reid has to hold the phone away from his ear. The words don't really make sense to him. They're not finished yet. They have a plan, a goal that they're working towards. But they haven't reached it yet.

"What? Why?"

Marisol ignores those questions. "Do you know where Everett is?"

He would know if Everett had called. Oh God. A chill descends his spine. Should he have been more concerned? "Not exactly. Why?"

"Because the governor was just arrested for battery, and someone was driven away in an ambulance."

The world drops away around him. "It never takes much," Everett had said. Oh God, no. From one moment to the next, Reid's mouth is bone dry. Ambulance. You don't call an ambulance for nothing.

Fuck! Reid wants to scream. But he also wants to curl up into a tiny little ball and be warm until this all turns out to be a giant mistake.

Maybe these two things are unrelated. Everett could have dropped his phone in the toilet for all Reid knows.

Nothing happened to him. He's fine. This is all just a misunderstanding.

Things are getting tangled up in Reid's brain again.

Everett can't have gotten hurt, because that would be too much, and then Reid would have a problem because Max is right—

"Reid!"

His name is shouted at him in stereo, both from the phone that he's still limply holding up to his ear and by a clearly frightened teenager.

At first, he can only blink. The world returns to him in pieces, first the warm metal of the door handle he's still holding and then the muted sounds of the television in the background.

Max's hands are outstretched, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out but doesn't know if it would be welcomed.

"What's going on?" he asks. "Is it Everett?"

That, at least, is a question Reid can answer. "No, it's Marisol. We used to work together." He hesitates, but only briefly. It's a blessing, really, that she called. This way, he doesn't have to do this alone. "Marisol, can I put you on speakerphone? Please? Max is here."

"Why on Earth—yes, okay." She waits a short moment to allow him to tap his screen in the right place and then launches into an explanation. "Hi, Max! I'm Marisol. Reid and I used to work in the same department. I can hear the television in the background. Do you have the news on?"

"… no?" Max says it like it's a question. On the other end of the line, they can hear Marisol sigh and mutter something in Spanish. It makes Max's eyebrows twitch, and his eyes widen in a way that makes it look like he understands her—and what she said wasn't good.

"Look." Her voice is very firm now, her words slow and considered. It only makes Max's eyes go even wider. "Monique texted me a while ago and told me that your father was arrested. It's on the news now."

"Arrested?" There isn't even a tinge of surprise on Max's face. Just fear. "Arrested for what?"

"She said battery. It's not been officially confirmed."

"So assault, basically." Max's hands are shaking now. He pulls them back to his side and balls them into fists, but even that doesn't contain the tremor.

"Yes. And there have been reports of an ambulance arriving to take someone away. They don't say who was in it, though."

"Everett," Max says and closes his eyes. His voice is almost toneless, and Reid can feel his stomach sink even further than it already has when he watches him sag like a puppet with his strings cut.

"I haven't managed to reach anyone who knows. I'm sorry."

But Marisol's voice is relegated to background noise for now.

Carefully, Reid kneels close to where Max has sunken into a sort of squat.

His shoulders are heaving with quick breaths, forehead pressed to his knees.

Mindful not to touch him, Reid leans forward a bit and says quietly: "We don't know if it's him yet. "

If it was him, and he didn't know Marisol, he wouldn't want her to hear him freak out. But Max seems to have no such reservations.

"No, I know it's him!" His voice is heavy with desperation and unshed tears. "He got me out of the way to talk to Dad, and now he's not calling like he promised? He's not even answering texts. Something is wrong! And it wouldn't even—"

He stops himself, looking up at Reid with shiny eyes. Like he's unsure if he should continue. So Reid does it for him.

"It wouldn't be the first time?" he asks. Max nods. "Everett implied as much. But that doesn't mean that something would happen that's bad enough that Everett would need an ambulance." Then a horrifying thought strikes him. "Has he needed an ambulance before?"

Max grimaces. "I don't know. He looked real bad one time.

But he said if I called an ambulance, Dad would blame him, and he might get in even more trouble.

So I didn't." As soon as the tears spill over, Max lowers his head again, to cry into his pants.

Reid watches his tears be soaked up by the black denim and tries to understand the words he just heard. Marisol is cursing again.