Jameson's POV

9 years prior

I buzz my lips to the 'Mary had a Little Lamb' tune as I check over my room, making sure everything I need is packed.

I'm learning the trumpet, just like Dad did when he was my age. Zeke's also learning the Trumpet, so he's 'helping' me a lot.

Not really, he just likes acting like he's smarter than me because he's a year older.

Massimo didn't want to play an instrument, so he had to choose a sport. I think he chose football and track.

Something about 'building his muscles while stay "limber."' And yes. He actually said that.

Massimo gets on my nerves sometimes. I mean, the dude is a few months older than me, and still likes to act like a know-it-all.

Curse me and my November birthday.

"James, are you almost done?" Mom asks, peeking through the doorway. She's got Gino clinging to her leg, and she's holding her already protruding stomach.

She's really not that far along, maybe halfway. With all the throwing up she's been doing I don't know how she hasn't thrown up that baby yet.

"Yeah mom. I really don't want to forget anything." I say, hauling my suitcase off my bed and sitting on the floor next to me.

"You're going to be fine, James. Wouldn't be the first time you've forgotten a pair of your underwear." Mom teases me and I groan.

"But Mama, this is the first time I've ever been allowed to go! I don't want anything to go wrong." I urge. This was the first time Uncle Stef and dad would let me join them on one of their away trips.

Normally I got told that I was "too young" but after Massino and I pestered them for long enough, we even came up with a presentation, about how mature we were, they finally gave in.

Mom just sighs and looks at me with false annoyment.

"I'm not sure what you think you're going to be doing. You're thirteen." I roll my eyes at her statement, sighing. That's not the point. I know exactly what I want to do with my life, and this is just the first step to it.

Besides, I'm sick and tired of having to listen to Zeke brag about getting to go on the 'special trips' with our uncles. If I go, he can't call me a baby anymore. If anyone's the baby it's Jules.

I wonder where she is anyway.

"Are Julie and Uncle Enzo almost back?" I ask mom as I roll my suitcase past her and out the door. Gino leaves mom and starts following me.

He starts trying to tell me that he wants all the details of every little thing that happens, raising his voice when mom interrupts for half a second to tell me that they should be back by now.

For a seven going on eight year old, he sure is chatty. And loud. And annoying.

We make it down the stairs and I let go of my suitcase, running into the living room where I know dad will be.

"I'm ready!" I shout to him, stopping in my tracks when I see a lot of other adults also in the living room.

Dad laughs at my face, and I glare at him, plopping down by his side quickly.

"Ciao, Jameson. Siamo un po' emozionati, vero?" Uncle Stefano teases and I nod bashfully. (T- A little excited, are we?)

"Un poco." I admit, pinching my fingers together.

"Your Italian is getting better." Zeke interrupts as he smacks the back of my head.

I turned around, swinging blindly to try and hit him back, but I missed.

Stupid Zeke is standing off to the side, just far enough out of reach that he won't get hit, holding Juliana in one arm and a bag in the other.

"Jam's!" Julie squeals, putting her arms out towards me. I reach over the couch and pull her from Zeke who's fake pouting. I stick my tongue out at him and he glares.

When Julie was younger she couldn't say 'James' so she resorted to calling me 'Jam's." Unfortunately for me, the name seemed to stick with me over the years.

"We got you a presente!" She exclaims proudly in her little five year old lisp.

"Did you now?" I ask in an overly enthusiastic voice. She just nods her head wildly back and forth, so much that I wonder how she hasn't gotten whip-lash.

I settle back down with her in my lap, and Zeke throws the bag at me. I scoff at him and he flips me off behind Juliana's back, earning a warning glance from Uncle Enzo who had plopped down in one of the armchairs.

Opening up the bag I see it's a necklace. A locket, to be more precise. Opening up the thing, I see a picture of Juliana and I from a few weeks ago. Both of us were fully decked out in princess clothes, holding up ridiculously small play tea cups with our pinky's fully extended.

I smile, kissing Juliana on the forehead.

"Thank you sissy." Juliana just giggles and jumps off my lap, running off to presumably go find either Justin or Jamie.

I'm actually surprised she's lasted this long without one of them. They're all normally glued to each other's sides at any possible given moment.

Uncle Stefano and dad simultaneously yell for her to slow down in Italian, and she yells something back in the same language.

Sometimes I get a little jealous of Juliana. I mean, she's spending half her childhood immersed in Italian culture. Things like our native language come as easily as speaking English does.

I, on the other hand, was born just after Nonno and dad had a really huge fight, so I don't think I even met any of my relatives, much less been back to Italy, before the age of seven.

But that just means I have to work a little bit harder than my siblings did when it came to the language thing, because that was probably my biggest barrier between my cousins and myself.

Don't get me wrong, they were a Kota family, so they had all grown up speaking both languages, however they preferred Italian as it was the 'popular' language spoken where they lived.

But that also meant that I was still a little awkward around other parts of the family. Like Nonno and Nonna for example. I know they don't mean to, but those two scare me.

Nonna a little less because she gives me chocolate.

I slip the locket over my head, looking to dad eagerly.

"When are we leaving?" I ask, practically bouncing up and down in my seat. Regardless of what happened on this trip, I was getting to go to Russia! That's cool enough if you ask me.

"Oh my gosh, would you calm down?" Zeke huffs, rolling his eyes. "We're literally waiting for my idioto of a fratello to finish packing. That boy is so slow, let me tell you.

"Don't name-call." Uncle Stefano says halfheartedly on instinct, but I doubt he was even paying Zeke much attention, as he was sitting on one of the opposite couches, looking over something with Aunt Maria.

Well, I call her Aunt Maria, but I guess she's not really my aunt. She's just around enough that she could be.

"I'm not a baby Zeke! I'm thirteen you dimwit. You're only a year older than me. Freaking Jameson's younger than I am. He's still twelve." Massimo yells from the stairs as he attempts to find a way to lug his suitcase and about three different bags down at the same time.

"Oh shut up! I'm literally turning thirteen in two weeks you asshole!" I yell back at him and dad smacks my thigh in warning.

"What did we just say about name calling and cursing?" He scolded.

"Well Uncle Stef told Zeke no name calling. I heard nothing about cursing." I reply, and Dad rolls his eyes, something everything in our family does a lot of, and I can practically hear him mentally cursing me the fuck out.

"You know what he meant, and you know it applied to you. Now all three of you shut the hell up or none of you are going." That threat immediately stops all bickering. While we may have a bone to pick with each other, none of us are willing to risk not going.

Everyone gets settled down on the couches because apparently we still have about an hour before we have to leave. There's a movie playing on the television, but seeing as it's Lilo and Stitch I think it was meant for the younger kids.

Not that Lilo and Stitch is bad, I mean, my favorite is Moana or the Avengers though.

Moana mainly because of the chicken. He's such an idiot. And then they come across the big star, I like that song.

And the Avengers because I like Iron Man. I love how smart he is. I could only wish. Me and my stupid learning disability.

"Jean Carlo-" Uncle Lorenzo speaks, grabbing the attention of my father. "Comincio a pensare che io e Stefano questa volta non potremo accompagnarvi." (T- I am beginning to think that Stefano and I will not be able to accompany you this time.)

Uncle Lorenzo starts speaking so fast that I have trouble picking up more than a few words, but whatever he says piques my fathers interest.

"Quello che è successo?" Dad asked worriedly, and Uncle took a glance at us before telling him that they've noticed a few "issues" that didn't need to be left unattended. (T- What happened?)

Dad sighed before turning his gaze to us.

"I'm sorry boys." Is all he says with a disappointed look on his face. Massimo immediately starts making a fuss, complaining that it wasn't fair, and demanding to know what changed.

While I'm smart enough to not be rude, because even though I'm almost a teenager dad won't hesitate to tan my hide right here, I still wanted to know why we suddenly couldn't go with.

It's not fair. I was really looking forward to this. It's pretty rare I do something with dad that doesn't involve my younger siblings. And while Massimo, Zeke, Uncle Lorenzo were all supposed to come along, that was different. I was sure I could pull my dad away from them at some point. But now I don't even get to go? What kind of bullshit is this?

Massimo is still cussing up a storm, and nobody really says anything. Lately, that's been his way of letting out his anger. He's got some serious anger issues I tell you. But hey, if cursing for a few minutes works for him, to each our own.

I hear Massimo cut off suddenly, and I look up to see mom entering the room holding onto Jamie's hand. And Jamie is holding onto Juliana's hand, who's holding onto Justin's hand, Angelo's hand, who's holding onto Gino's hand, who's being corralled by Jensen and Makayla. Now the only ones missing are Aunt Teresa, which in my opinion she can just stay wherever she is, Micelio, Nonno and Nonna.

Juliana sees me and lets go of Justin, practically dragging Jamie to me. She yanks poor Jamie onto the couch, plopping in my lap while Jamie sits on the couch, eyes wide, like she's just been traumatized.

I chuckle at her expression, reaching over and ruffling her hair. She startles, looking up at my hand and then me, smiling before climbing over both of us to get to dad.

While Jamie was no doubt a mommy's girl, she would always migrate straight to dad when given the chance.

"What is all this commotion about?" Mom asks, placing a peck on dads lips causing Juliana to scrunch up her nose. I take my hand and playfully cover her eyes, groaning in disgust.

"Not in front of the baby. Come on guys." I joke, and Juliana whines about being a big girl, not a baby.

"There's been a problem and suddenly everyone is preoccupied. We can't reschedule the meeting, meaning someone has to go, but like H E double hockey sticks will I be taking the boys in there. And I don't particularly feel like leaving them alone in a hotel room in another country." Dad explains and mom nods in understanding.

"I've taught you well." She smiles and dad rolls his eyes, muttering about being a great parent without her help.

"I could always go." She suggests, after thinking for a moment.

"Babe..." Dad starts, shaking his head and placing his hands on her hips. "You are six months pregnant. You can't do that." He says, placing a kiss on her belly. "Besides. What about our other children?"

"Oh please, don't you even start with me. You know damn well I can fly until 8 and a half months, and your brothers are more than trustworthy. Come on, you know how much they were looking forward to this. Besides, you really don't want to deal with those s t r o n z o s-es by yourself, now do you?" She coaxes and Juliana yells,

"I know that that spells!" Making everyone laugh because we know for a fact that she does not know what that spells. After hearing Gino do it one time, she loved acting all smart after anyone spelt anything.

To our surprise she had guessed right a couple of times though. She's a smart kid, I'll give her that.

"Oh mi amore, you really do know how to work me. Okay. I guess. But that doesn't solve the problem of the meeting. Three of us were going so that two could attend the meeting and one could stay with the boys."

"We can fly them in a day late. They'll live missing one day opposed to the entire trip. Right boys?" She calls sternly over her shoulder to us, letting us know that this was our only option if we wanted to go.

Massimo and Zeke reluctantly agreed after getting permission from their fathers, and I jumped on the opportunity to still get to go.

After that mom left to go pack, and most of the adults left to go deal with 'grown up business' which we all know what that was code for.

Since the flight would obviously be delayed for the adults until this evening, and us teenagers until the day after tomorrow, Juliana, Jamie, Justin, Gino, Angelo, Massimo, Mackayla, Zeke and I all finished watching Lilo and Stitch.

Then Zeke decided to switch to Transformers. It was the one movie that we all seemed to agree on. Well Jamie could have been less interested, but other than that, everyone seemed to like the saga so it was a safe option.

It only took Julie, Jamie, and Justin about an hour to fall into their post lunch nap, and when I left, Gino was almost to dreamland as well.

I quietly snuck my way up to my moms room, or at least the room where she and dad always slept in when we stayed here, knocking lightly on the already cracked door, but not waiting for a reply before I walked in.

"Hey Mama." I say, going over and plopping myself down on their bed.

"What do you want, James?" She calls from the closet, coming out with an armload of clothes.

I stare at the ground for a second, unsure of how to proceed. If I just flat out ask to go with them a day early, she'll probably say no.

"Jameson?" She asks, placing the clothes down and turning her attention to me. "Is everything all right?"

I nod, so she doesn't worry. Mom does that a lot. Worry. She always thinks the worst. Dad is the logistical one. He says that's why they work so well together.

"I just wanted to ask if I could come with you. Tonight, I mean." I murmur, half hoping that she won't hear me.

But she sighs, so I know she has.

"Baby, I know you're excited about the trip, but it's really best if you just wait with the other boys. You don't want to be stuck all alone in a hotel room all day, do you?" She says, and even though mom fraised it as a question, I knew she wasn't asking.

"But mom, I really want to go now. I don't care if I have to stand in the corner of an office the entire time. Just please let me go." I begged and she gave me a tired look, coming to sit down next to me on the couch.

"Why are you so adamant about this?" She asks and I stare off at the wall, a little embarrassed.

"I want to spend time with dad." I mutter, and this time she really doesn't hear me.

"Can you repeat that for me?" She asks, and I do. "Hon, you're going to have to speak a little louder or-"

"I want to spend time with dad! Okay?" I exclaim and she leans back, surprised.

"I'm sorry, but I hardly ever get any time with him without one of my siblings, and while you know I love them to pieces, sometimes I just want to do stuff without them. And I know how much time a baby takes, trust me I do, and so in a few short months that time will be reduced to about nothing." I explain, and I watch as her eyes soften.

"You know your father would never purposefully not spend time with you, right?" She asks, pulling me into her side.

"Yeah, I know. And I get it, having siblings means that I have to share. But sometimes it would be nice to have a time when I didn't have to share with them." Mom doesn't reply, simply nods.

"Have you talked to your father about this?"

"No." I whisper. "I wanted to, but whenever I would try I always felt like I was being selfish for taking time away from the others."

"Wanting time with your parents is never selfish, Jameson." She chides softly, squeezing me close. "He would have made time for you."

"How about this? I'll let you come early on the trip if you promise to be good until the meetings are done. Then, you and your father can go do something together if you'd like. But I want you to tell him how you feel. Maybe the two of you can come up with a ritual. Like, getting ice cream every Saturday." I chuckle and nod my head happily.

She sends me off to the living room with one final kiss on my forehead.

Juliana's POV

Present Day

"And so all three of them got on that plane." Uncle Lorenzo finishes.

"But that's not true." I interject. "Jameson bailed out last minute. And mom stayed with him."

I don't understand why they're trying to tell me about the night my parents died. I mean, it's not like I don't already know the story.

And much less, I have no idea how this correlated to Elijah spilling the beans about Jameson 'not being my brother'.

Freaking Grandpa was there on the day he was born. I would like to know what sort of drugs these people are on.

"No. That's the webbed up lie that they wanted us to believe." Uncle Stefano explained like he was talking to a small child.

"Who is they!" I yell, despite how much it hurts, more than fed up with this entire situation.

"That's what we still need to find out. Listen to me." Grandpa says, dragging the attention to him.

"The story you got told was that your brother bailed out, and your mother stayed behind with him. Then your father's plane was ambushed, and your mother killed herself two weeks later from grief. Am I wrong?" Grandfather barks, and I shake my head.

No, he's not wrong. But it's not a story.

I know that I saw that night. I might have been young but I remember waking up to Jameson and Mom being back home when I could have sworn they left.

I remember the moment Uncle Lorenzo got the call that my father never showed up to that meeting.

The terror on my moms face as reality sunk in. The screaming, the denial, the cursing. Being carried and locked in another room by Zeke with the rest of the kids.

I don't remember why, but I remember going back home to New York not too long after that. And I remember being forced to go to daycare while mom acted like everything was fine, like I hadn't been told that Daddy would never be coming home.

And I remember walking to their bedroom one day, only to see their bathroom light on. I remember walking through the already cracked door only to be met with the sight of my mother lying on the floor.

Knife in hand, eyes wide open, throat gaping and the floor slick with a pool of blood.

I remember screaming. I remember trying to get to her. I remember Jameson standing there.

I don't remember when, or how, he got there. I remember being pulled out of the room. I remember a lot of men in black suits coming in and out of the house.

I remember being sent with Gino and Jamie and Jensen to go stay with one of mom and dad's old work colleges. He was supposedly one of their "best and most trusted friends", but I don't remember ever having seen or heard of him before.

"That man you were living with, the one claiming to be your brother?" Grandfather continued. "He's an imposter. Someone dressed and coached on how to look and act like your brother."

"That's impossible." I shot down that idea immediately. "How can you replace two entire people and not have people notice?"

Sure, did mom and Jameson act oddly after and following dad's death? Yeah, sure. But their husband and father had just died. I think that was only to be expected.

"I think you're underestimating what a determined group of people with the right amount of money and training can do." Massimo speaks from behind me, and it takes everything in me to not do something I would regret later.

"Okay," I sigh, trying to keep my thoughts straight. "Just to make sure that I'm understanding you all correctly... My parents aren't dead. The man I've been living with, whom we all thought was my biological older brother, is actually some random dude and my brother is what? Dead?" I ask.

"Your brother is alive." Uncle Stefano corrects, and something occurs to me.

"How do you even know all this? I mean, you thought my parents were dead, so how do you know that they're alive? What, did you go looking for them or something? Did someone tell you? Where the hell were they?"

"They were being held captive." Is all Elijah says.

"Okay, but where and does this include the real Jameson?" I try again, and they all look at each other wearily.

"Yes, that includes Jameson. And unless you're ready to start talking about everything, then that's not information you need right now." I have a feeling that when Uncle Lorenzo says 'everything' he means the speculated abuse.

About that, how much do they know about that?

I just nod, still half stuck in my thoughts. I looked over at Zeke, who had moved back to stand more towards the doorway when everyone else had come into the room.

I just look at him, trying to see what he's thinking. His face is pretty impassive, and when he notices me continuing to stare at him he does turn a little confused.

But he doesn't say anything. Just stands there.

And that hurts.

You know, I always thought that resentment was something that came gradually. It was something that happened over a period of time, slowly creeping up on you until one last thing finally pushes you over the edge and makes that person completely unredeemable in your eyes.

Similar to how I began to resent Jameson over the years. Not necessarily for hurting me, but for being my brother. For being someone who everyone would see as 'trustable' and someone that I had to love regardless. But this time, it hit me like a train.

I resented Zeke.

And Uncle Stefano, and Uncle Lorenzo, and Grandfather, and every other single person in this room right now.

Because to think that they allowed some small part of me, albeit probably bigger than I would like to admit, to finally start trusting them. I had finally begun thinking that they might just be good people. That I could be comfortable with them.

And they just ran that trust into the ground.

If they were going to side with my abuser, okay. Sure, that would hurt like fucking hell, but to lie to me about it? To make up some extravagant and completely unreasonable story to justify what he did?

They might have just told me that I deserved it all. That they couldn't give to shits about me over my brother.

I take one last deep breath, ignoring the pang in my lungs. I take that resentment and I put it in the chest. I take the disappointment, the hurt, every unuseful feeling and I shove it in that metal chest,

Then I shove it closed, flip the lock, and shove it so deep inside of me that if I tried hard enough, I could probably forget about it.

And when I'm done I'm left feeling nothing. But I feign confusion, concern, and finally, acceptance.

Because those are the emotions that will get me out of this situation safely.

"Okay. So what happens now?" I ask, turning my attention away from Zeke and looking at Uncle Stefano. But I don't actually look at his face, fearing that I may cry if I do.

Instead, I imagine that I'm looking through him. I draw a mental picture of the wall behind him, pretending that is what I'm seeing instead.

"Well, you're going to focus on getting better. We're hopefully going to get some answers on why your body is reacting this way. And when you're stable enough, we'll bring you home.

"If you're asking about the rest of your siblings, they, including your parents, are currently at the house getting settled in and examined for themselves." Uncle Stefano drones.

I nod halfheartedly, feeling a little guilty that I had completely forgotten about Jensen, Jamie and Gino for a moment.

"How are my parents?" I ask, though my voice is starting to come out hoarse again.

Massimo reaches over and hands me the cup off the table, but I just hold it in my hands, not planning on talking much more after this, so I didn't see much point in drinking it.

"Physically, they could be worse. They are a little roughed up, but nothing too bad. Mentally though, there's no telling. They've been locked up for almost a decade, so there's a lot they need to be caught up on." Elijah the doctor resites.

"They're also really eager to see you again, so whenever you feel up to it, they would love to come visit." Uncle Stefano says, and I nod, leaning back into Massimo.

I didn't really have a choice seeing as he was practically holding me down. A hold that doesn't feel so good anymore.

I closed my eyes, and they all took the hint, leaving the room one by one.

"Is it okay if we stay?" Massimo asks, and I hesitate, not wanting to respond.

If I said no, that was rude, and they might not react well to that response. But if I say yes, I have to suffer through their presence for longer.

"Or do you want to be alone right now?" Zeke asks, and I nod reluctantly.

Zeke nods, though he looks a little disappointed, and they leave. Elijah poked his head back in to make sure I know where the call button is, and lets me know that I'll be checked on periodically.

When he leaves the damn breaks. I turn as best I can and fully bary my face in my pillow, pulling the covers over my face.

Thanks to this stupid oxygen tube, I don't have to worry about suffocating myself.

I allow myself to cry. To let just enough of the emotions out of my chest that I will be able to keep the rest, and a few more, contained.

Because I have a feeling I'll need it.

I must have been crying for a while, because a nurse comes in to take my vitals, and while I know she notices my red eyes, she doesn't comment.

After my vitals are logged in my computer she asks me questions about pain levels, if I've eaten or used the bathroom, etc.

I drastically underrate my pain levels, not wanting them to pump me with drugs right now. And again, even though she gives me a suspicious look, she doesn't comment.

When I tell her I haven't eaten or used the bathroom she says she'll come back with a menu so I can call down to the kitchen.

Even though it's still early afternoon-ish, I'm asleep before she comes back.

-------------------------------

What are we thinking about Jameson and their parents situation?

Are they telling the truth? Or lying to win her favor?

I'm not sure if I should apologize for the 'late' update or not.

I'm trying for every 3 days, and I'm beginning to wonder if that's truly a reasonable goal (for myself) or not.