A/N: Shoutout to fortheloveofgayyy for the comment that spurred me to write today. Hope to god it isn't too boring but Jude's about to get slapped with a bunch of sick reality checks. 

Enjoy!! 

* * * 

The hotel room was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Though I'd opted to share a room with him tonight, he promised to let me have my own booking where I could invite my friends tomorrow. The space was bigger than my house's entire floor area, probably top to bottom, and the outer walls were purely windows overlooking a dawning sky.

We were so high up and surrounded by so many windows that I almost didn't know where to look. I turned and looked at the queen-sized bed with white covers and a gold sheen material laid across the end. The floors and walls were dark wood, and everything seemed to contrast so beautifully like nothing I'd seen before. Dad dumped a suitcase down beside the bed and moved to the plush Victorian couches and settled into the seat with a satisfied sigh. A huge flatscreen TV was mounted to a wall in front of the bed and couch.

Around a small open corner was a massive bathroom that held a shower that'd fit probably fifty people, though maybe a little cramped, and a separate small room with a single bed. I jumped on it and rolled onto my back, glancing upwards at the massive window my bed was pressed against. It almost felt like I was hanging out of it. My heart jumped a little, so I raced out of my bed and rushed back to sit with dad.

Forgetting about personal space, I leapt onto the couch beside him and clung to his arm. It'd been so long since I last got to see him, but he still felt so safe and familiar. Maybe things would've felt different if I'd managed to just contact him these past few days. Talking to him whenever I needed was something that got me through all these years.

Dad lifted his arm and scruffled my hair, pulling me into a quick squeeze, but left his arm around me. I settled in and got comfortable. "Tell me how things've been, Jude," he said.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly. "Maybe a bit stressful but I always manage, don't I, dad?"

He looked down and appeared to think hard on how to respond. "So it seems," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I wanted to tell you in person like this that Jules and I have decided to relocate back here."

I pulled away and craned my body to face him. "Moving back here?" I asked with disbelief. Dad nodded. "For good?" He nodded again.

"Oh my God! You're really not joking? You're really gonna do it?"

He hunched forward and clasped his hands together, then swivelled his body so that we kinda faced each other more. "Y'know," he said with a scratchy voice, "That your mum's not in good health. She's– her condition is bad, y'know? Julie and I are gonna find work and buy a home here. There'll be a room for you, of course, and it'll be somewhere near your school. We want you to carry on with your life as normally as possible..." He looked down at his hands, struggling to find the words.

A crushing weight on my chest coincided with a sinking feeling in my gut, making it suddenly hard to breathe. "She's really not gonna make it, is she?" I asked, feeling my voice crack. A lump in my throat seemed to choke my words, which I swallowed down hard.

Dad shook his head then covered my hands with his, speaking with a heaviness in his tone that I couldn't even fathom. "She might have days left."

"But there's still a chance she won't die," I said, shrinking back but wishing I could shrink into a hole and somehow avoid all of this. "She has so much conviction. God's not just gonna ignore her and let her die, right?"

Dad scrunched his face up as he pulled away from me. He ran his hands over his face and then through his hair, dishevelling the slick front. "Jude, there's so much you probably don't know about the world. If your mum raised you anything like I suspect she did then... you won't understand."

My breath hitched, and I stared up at him. "What d'you mean?" I asked.

"Jude," he started, then appeared to hesitate and think his words over. "When you remove God from the picture, miracles, healing, faith, devotion, and all these things I know your mother's engrained in you; all you have left is somebody in their final stages of terminal cancer. She was diagnosed five years ago and refused treatment. I know I shouldn't say this to my religious fourteen-year-old child, but Jude, five years is a long time to be overlooked by God. She thinks she's lasted this long because of him, but if she lasts another week, then well, that'd be the true miracle."

My eyes were burning, and my nose was blocking up. "That isn't true," I sniffled, rubbing my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. "How can that even be? And how're we gonna contact Josh's dad? She'd wanna see him while she's sick like this, right? I haven't spoken to Steve in... I don't even know. He's been gone so long; I don't even know if he's still in the same place. Africa, right? Last I heard he was building an orphanage in Homa Bay."

Dad looked stunned at my nervous rambling, but I couldn't help myself. If I stayed quiet for too long, then I was scared that the truth would start to sink in. My heart couldn't take it. "Jude..." he said with incredulity, finding it difficult to put his thoughts into words. "Steve's been dead for years. Must be, what, seven odd years now?"

His words tripped me for a moment. Steve only ended up in Homa Bay when I asked mum about him last year. "How d'you mean?"

Dad looked exasperated. "Jude, I dunno what your mum's told you, but Steve died during one of his missions only a few years into their marriage. Your mum went to his funeral with Josh when he was probably ten."

"Then... where was I?"

"You must've been around seven then. I came back and took care of you. We stayed at a shabby motel, and I let you have a couple of days off school. Your mum told me not to bring it up 'cause she'd tell you herself later, but you really didn't know all this time?"

I felt so confused. Was she trying to protect me or something? But it was Josh's dad, so wouldn't she be more concerned about protecting him? Though I s'pose it'd be even more cruel not to tell him. And the fact that he knew about her illness, too. Did she also dump that on him 'cause he'd already shouldered something else so heavy and dark? Because he was older than me? Because he was already accustomed to death?

Was that why he hated me so much?

"Mum never said a word," I said, feeling myself getting worked up. "Josh's been enduring that all on his own since he was, what, ten? That's not fair. Why'd he have to do that? No wonder he's hated me so much," I said. "And for years? Why would mum do that?"

Dad shrugged. "That's the way blind faith can sometimes work. You trust this idea of what God wants and you act accordingly, even if it hurts the people you love."

"That's not what Christianity is about," I said, crossing my arms and jumping quickly to God's defence.

"What about Christians believing that good people will go to hell?" he asked. "It doesn't particularly make me feel good when you tell me I'm hell bound, so I can imagine how others might feel. Maybe you don't know what it's like, but––"

"I do know what it's like," I said, cutting him off. He didn't know the countless nights I spent crying for dad because I felt so helpless that I couldn't save his soul. I felt terrified of dying and leaving him behind. The nights I cried myself to sleep because I was terrified for my dad or would wake up from gruesome nightmares of him burning in flames. Yet selfishly, even more than that, I feared for my own. Nothing terrified me more than the thought of burning in hell for eternity. "Mum and Josh remind me literally every day, but that's why I do my best to fix myself and prove them wrong!"

Dad froze and looked at me like I spoke a foreign language. "They... they tell you you're going to hell?"

"Yeah. They think I'm gay 'cause I really like this one guy at school 'cause he's so cool. Josh even..." I paused, thinking back to that humiliation I felt back at the youth night. I didn't want to continue that story, so I trailed off and hoped he'd let the topic die.

"She told my son he's going to fucking hell?" dad snarled under his breath. He looked angry. Like, really angry. I'd never heard him swear before.

Dad exhaled and placed his hand on my shoulder, staring me straight in the eyes. "Jude, you're not going to hell. You're a good kid, just a little sheltered and misguided. She had no business instilling this fear into you. It's too late for me to get angry at her, but I need you to know and understand what I'm telling you now. You can look up to and be best friends with this guy, or you can have legitimate feelings and even wanna go out with him. Either way, you're not going to hell. Those feelings are true to you and they are your right."

My tears hadn't stopped this entire time, but now I had an even bigger downpour. Why did I want to hear these words so badly? Why was I desperate for this to be true? He enveloped me in another hug and patted my back for a few minutes while I cried. After a while, dad pulled away and glanced down at the coffee table in front us then reached for the TV remote. "Look, it's going to be difficult and painful for a while," he said, aiming it at the flat screen on the wall and turning it on. "Let's just try take this opportunity to just wind down a bit with a movie or something. How 'bout it?"

I nodded.

Dad started flicking through the channels when the sound of a doorbell rang, followed by a loud and curt knock. We both turned to look at the door at the same time.

"Child Protection Officers, open up!" a female's voice called through the door.

Dad and I stared at each other, wide eyed. "They aren't supposed to get statements from you till tomorrow," dad said, getting up from the couch and walking to the door.

The same two officers from earlier at the hospital stood at the door and peered inside, seeing me straight away. "Jude, we're going to need you to come back with us."

"Huh?" Dad asked, blocking the door. "Why?"

"Mr. Ancel," the policewoman said, "Mrs. Caster has provided us with Jude's birth certificate. I hate to tell you this, but you're not on it."

"What d'you mean I'm not on it?" he asked, folding his arms and standing firm between them and me. I approached slowly behind to listen. "I filled the bloody thing myself."

"No father has been listed on Jude's birth certificate. Mrs. Caster has decided to treat this as an official kidnapping. I apologise, Mr. Ancel, but Jude has to come with us and be taken into the care of Mrs. Caster's chosen kinship carer."

"Who?" I asked, stepping around dad. "Who's she making me go with?"

"Your mum has requested that we keep it confidential from Mr. Ancel," she said. "Sorry, Jude, but you need to come with us."

"Not interested," I said. "I know it's either gonna be Josh or Pastor Cordell and I'm not going with either of them. I wanna stay here at this luxury hotel with my dad."

Not that I had anything against Pastor Cordell, but given the choice between him and my dad, I would always choose my dad. Plus, I was super excited to invite Liam, Tristan, and Charlie tomorrow. Maybe even Goose and Ben, and maybe... Maybe even Niko. Liam would like that, right? He'd like me getting along with her. I loved that idea and I didn't want to leave here. 

"Sorry, Jude," she said. "Until you're sixteen, or until Mr. Ancel can prove he's your biological father, only your mother can make that choice for you. If you don't want your dad to be arrested, then I need you to just come with us. You'll be fine, we promise."

She tried to offer a friendly smile, but it was clear that she was intimidated by my dad who looked well and truly like he was gearing up for a fight. I tugged on his arm. "I'll go," I said, keeping my hand on his arm as he lowered them both. "I get on fine with Pastor Cordell and his wife's really nice. We can figure something out tomorrow, okay?"

Dad looked like a kicked puppy but stepped forward to hug me. "Alright," he murmured, and kissed the top of my hair. "You know where I'm staying." He pulled away and turned to speak with the officers. "I want assistance in obtaining a same-day DNA test. I didn't expect my wife at the time would pull a fast one on me like that, but he's definitely my son. A spitting image, in fact."

The officers nodded their agreement. "Come to the station in a couple of hours and we'll talk you through the process. Our apologies, Mr. Ancel."

The officers lead me away from dad towards the elevators. Both of us held our arm up and waved the entire time until the elevator doors closed and blocked him from my sight. It was like having a part of me ripped away. I didn't understand why dad wouldn't be on my birth certificate, or why it meant he was kidnapping me all of a sudden. At the end of the day, he was still my dad. I'd do whatever it took to stay with him.