Chapter 20: (title pending)

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I find his number by googling "horseback riding therapy siefer". A link to "Epona's Healing Ranch" pops up. I click it. There's a picture of him in the banner standing next to a gorgeous black horse with long wavy mane, in a black cowboy hat. It doesn't hide his familiar blue eyes though. He's got a scar on his chin that I don't remember him having though.

The ranch helps people with emotional, physical, or psychological problems. It lists the problems on the front page. It says autism, cerebral palsy, accident trauma, ADHD, depression and the list continues. I don't see schizophrenia anywhere though.

I search the site for a contact link. Once I find it, I click it. It lists off employees. I find "Tybalt Siefer" listed as a 'horse trainer/handler'. There is no number, but there is an email. I scroll back up and find the office number, writing it down on a post-it pad on my desk.

-You gonna stick me to something?- it asks hopefully. I comply by pulling it off and putting it on the corner of the computer screen. It cheers delightedly as I find a phone and dial the number.

Two rings and a woman picks up.

"Epona's Healing Ranch, how may I help you?" she asked sweetly with a slight twang.

"Um...hi, my name's Ben, I'm looking for Tibs- I mean Tybalt?"

"He's out with a patient at the moment, can I take a message?"

"Thank you. Just tell him Ben called."

"Ben who?" she asks.

"Ben Abruzz-"

I pause when I hear a voice on the other line say faintly, "Hey honey, who's on the phone?"

"Oh! He just came in, would you like to talk to him?" she says cheerfully.

I tell her yes. There is a muffled 'he says his name is Ben Bruise' and the phone gets handed off. Honey? Why was he calling the woman honey?

"Hello?" he says. "How can I help you, sir?"

"Tybalt?" I say weakly.

"This is he. Ben right?"

"It's me, Ben."

"I'm sorry; I don't know anyone named Ben. What can I help you with?"

"Tibs, it's me!" I repeat. "Benvolio!"

"...I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know who you are. Are you sure you have the right number?" he says patiently, uncertainly.

"...Tibs, it's your brother," I say softly. "Benvolio Abruzzi."

There is silence before he finally says, "Oh god, Ben?"

I let out a slightly choked chuckle. "Finally," I tease.

"Holy shit, honey, it's my brother," I hear him say to who I assume is the woman who answered. She says something about not knowing he had a brother. It hurts a bit. Then it hurts more that that means he didn't mention he had three.

"Three actually, one sec-" he returns to the phone. "Jesus, Ben, how're ya? I haven't heard from you in-"

"It's hard to contact a guy who jumps around so much. We didn't know where you were."

"Then how'd you get this number?" he asks puzzled.

"Your last postcard said you were working at a horseback therapy facility. I googled it with your last name."

"Oh," he says simply. "Makes sense. So how've you been, Benny?"

"Not so good," I admit in a small voice.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks, suddenly concerned.

I quietly tell him want had been happening. How mom left with little more than a note. How she abandoned us with barely any money to live on to take care of some "uncle". Tybalt mumbles something about her not having a brother. Or ever mentioning any of her own uncles.

"We got evicted. We're living with Rosie."

"Who?" he asks.

"....Rosaline?"

"Who's Rosaline?"

"...oh, right. Chance."

"Chance?" he says with a slight tone to it. Like Chance is akin to a flesh eating bacteria.

"Yes, Chance," I say defensively.

"Why the fuck are you living with him?"

Rosaline, back when he was still Chance, was my half-brother's best friend growing up. Back when Roz didn't wear women's clothes nor admitted to anyone his love of men. He babysat us triplets when Mom was out and Tibs had somewhere to be. He was the first of his friends that Roz came out to. Mostly because Roz confessed having a crush on my older brother. Tybalt punched his ex-best friend and declared he wanted to live with his father. Roz was broken hearted, but he just threw himself into helping raise my brothers and I. We came out of it more attached to him than we ever were to Tibs.

"Because he's all we have," I murmur. "Mom left. You left. We assume our dad left. That leaves Rosie and our aunts."

That shuts him up for a moment. I know what he wants to say.

"You can't support three teenage boys, Tibs. But that's why mom made Rosie's mothers our god parents. So if anything happened, they would. And we like it here. Sure, we miss our own place...but we're doing okay here."

"How's....how's Mercutio?" he asks.

The last time we spoke was just after the Clive incident. I fill him in as best as I could. He was getting better, and mostly thanks to Valentine. He seems interested in learning more but the woman that answered says something to him quietly.

"I gotta go, kiddo. I have another appointment with a patient. I'll give you a call later, we can talk more. Maybe you boys can come visit. Bye!"

"Bye," I manage before he hangs up. He didn't ask for my phone number.

o-o-o-o-o-o

I go back onto the computer and surf around for awhile to get my mind off everything. I then seriously consider using it to vent my frustration instead of a shrink. C'mon, it's the internet. Might as well jump on the bandwagon. After some consideration, I decide on a twitter. Mercutio just got one a few days ago per Valentine's request. It's a lot better than post it notes, and since Merc already had a nifty cell phone with an app for Twitter, it worked out perfectly.

I come up with a username and link to my cell phone. I don't befriend anyone I know, just in case. Not that my username wouldn't give me away. 'ToastedBenvolio'. I have no imagination. I turn off the computer and head downstairs. My stomach rumbles but I don't go into the kitchen. Everyone is in the foyer and I blink.

"Why aren't you dressed?" asks Rosaline exasperatedly, wearing jeans and a retro tee. My brothers blink at me.

"Was...I suppose to get dressed?" I ask. It was Saturday.

"Valentine is getting released today, we're picking him up!" Mercutio says excitedly with this big puppy grin.

"Just go without me," I say. "He probably wants to get here soon. Don't wait up for me."

Rosie and my brothers exchange looks. They aren't really happy ones either.

"Besides, I haven't eaten breakfast yet," I reason. It's the truth. "I'm going to make myself something." That's a lie.

"Okay..." says Rosaline, pulling on his jacket. "We'll be back soon."

I nod and wave them off. Once they leave I go to make sure Valentine's room is ready. I have to skitter back out because the bedspread starts yelling. I cover my ears as everything starts to get louder and louder. I don't know what triggered it but suddenly everything is talking and screaming and laughing and crying.

I run outside, collapse in the wildflowers, and breathe deeply. It helps. My head throbs, my stomach growls, and my clothes get wet from the ground. I need to see Laguna. I need some peace. But I can't just leave with Valentine coming home. I yank my cell phone from my pj pant's pocket and hastily dial Laguna's number. Maybe he'll come here. I get a voicemail. It's good to hear his voice at least. I call him again just to listen to the voicemail. I wonder if something happened to him and my stomach drops a bit.

What if Clive did something?

I leave a message this time.

"Hey...it's Ben. Where are you? I haven't talked to you or seen you in a few days...." I say. "Call me, please?"

God I sound pathetic.

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A/N: ....Ben's twitter actually exists peoples. Look for it! ToastedBenvolio ! If you find my twitter (drazuki), I follow him. The icon he uses is pretty obvious, lol

Sorry for the shortness, but at least you go something.