#alcoholic tw
No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER
betrayal | misunderstanding|brokennose
Harrison hadn’t seen the Daniels in years. He’d been passed from foster to foster, causing problems wherever he ended up. When his final placement fell through, he had nowhere else to go. He had no support to get on his own two feet, no education to get a job, and far too much alcohol to do much else.
His funds quickly dwindled, and nobody would help him. The little help he did get, he refused to accept it, kicking off until they left him alone. After a week of no electricity or water, he gave in, packed his bags, and headed for the Daniels.
By the time he got there, several buses and a few miles walk later, it was dark. His phone was long out of charge and he knew he should have called first, but he wasn’t that considerate. There was a chill to the air, but the alcohol kept him warm despite only being in a t-shirt. It took a few attempts to find the correct door, a few wrong answers and several angry people. He hammered on the door again, leaning against the frame.
Fao liked being home. Uni had been great when he lived away, but after Finn’s accident he needed his family, and Fao was glad to be there for him. Recovery had been slow, but he was always there to help his little brother out.
Everyone was scattered about the house when there was a knock at the door. Fred was cooking, Sheila was upstairs doing something, and Finn was apparently doing his homework (though Fao had his doubts). Fao was stretched out on the sofa reading at the time, the loud sound startling him. Were they expecting someone? Sheila hadn’t said anything.
He stood up and crossed the room to the front door, pulling it open. He didn’t recognise the boy stood in front of him, in scruffy clothes and looking slightly unsteady. He was probably a couple of years younger than Fao, but not much younger than that. He looked skinny and unkempt, and Fao frowned.
“Can I help you?”
“The fuck are you?”
“Uh, I live here?”
Harrison scowled at him. “Where’s Sheila?”
“Upstairs. You got a name, kid?”
“Fred, then.” He glanced past Fao. “Where’s he?”
“Look, who are you?”
“I don’t have to answer to you.” He swayed slightly. “Just get them, will you?”
“I don’t know who you are. Why should I get them?”
“Because I’ve asked you to.”
“I don’t even know who you are.” Fao said, folding his arms over his chest.
“So go get them.”
“I’m not just letting you walk into my house.” Fao’s voice was hard.
“Did I ask to walk in "your” house?“
“I live here, it’s just as much my house.”
"Like fuck is it. ”
“So you’re just gonna show up at the door and tell me what is and isn’t my house?”
“Fuck off with your high and mighty attitude, mate.”
“You’ve really got some balls, haven’t you? I just want to know what the fuck you actually want.”
Harrison shoved him. “I’ve told you.”
“Hey, hey. Watch it.” Fao growled, pushing him back.
“Stop being such a dick then.”
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“I’ve asked you to get Fred and you’re being an absolute dick.” He squared up to Fao. “So, yeah. You’remy problem.”
Fao pushed him back, hard. “Oh, fuck off. Stop being such a fucking cunt.”
Harrison stumbled back, tripping over the front step and landing sprawled in the driveway. “You’re the fucking cunt.”
“Yeah, whatever mate.”
He struggled to his feet. “You’re a fucking wanker.”
“Says you.”
He swung for the other boy, frustrated beyond belief. It wasn’tfair.
The other boy was slow and uncoordinated, and Fao countered his punch with his own, sharp and angry. He wasn’t taking any more shit from him.
Harrison staggered back. Fao’s punch had landed, making its mark on his cheek. Blood welled in his mouth and he swore before he spat it out. He swung again.
Harrison’s counter attack landed well, Fao reveling in his hit and too distracted to dodge. He staggered back into the hallway, reeling.
“Dickhead.” He spat.
Fao gripped the wall, his head spinning. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be such a wanker.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t just stand there and act like you own everything!” Fao snapped, his voice harsh.
“Coming from you, that’s rich.” Harrison shook his head. “I asked for one thing and you think you rule the place.”
“Almost as if it’s my house.”
“Yeah, right.”
Fao’s cheek, where Harrison had caught him, was throbbing, and he was sure a bruise was forming already.
“You’ve yet to give me a good reason why I should let you in.”
“I didn’t ask to come in, did I?” He spat. “I asked for Sheila or Fred.”
“What do you want them for anyway? How do you even know them?”
He wasn’t going to admit that. “I just do, alright? Please.”
“I’m not getting them without knowing why.”
“For fuck’s sake!” He snapped, trying to balance himself on the doorframe. “I’ve just fucking asked you to get them!”
Fao just reacted as the other boy moved to lean on the doorframe, and swung another punch at him. He had to look out for his family.
Harrison dropped like a sack of shit, landing in a crumpled heap. He hadn’t even seen Fao’s punch coming. Sheila, on the other hand, had.
“Faolan!”
Fao wasn’t a complete arsehole, when the other boy hit the deck he moved to crouch next to him, but Sheila’s shout made him flinch. Fuck.
“Go get Fred. You’ve done enough.” Her tone was hard as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Go on.”
“I didn’t…” He said quietly. “I jus’…”
“Move it.” She clicked her fingers at him. “Now.”
His words died on his tongue and he stood up, bolting back into the house. Guilt curled in his stomach, and he went in search of Fred.
Sheila crouched by Harrison, gently rubbing his shoulder. Blood was pouring from his nose and his lip was split. She rolled her eyes. Boys.
Harrison jerked back from her hand, disorientated and swinging immediately. Nothing landed and despite his blurred vision he recognised Sheila, reaching for her with shaky hands.
Fred was cooking, and Fao was filled with dread as he stepped into the kitchen, bravado completely drained out of him. “F-Fred?”
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“Sh-Sheila wants you. D-door.”
He turned, still half-heartedly stirring. “What happened?”
He couldn’t do much more than lamely shrug his shoulders, struggling for words. “She wants you.”
Fred knew there was more going on, but also that he wasn’t going to get any more from Fao. “Stir that. I’ll back in a minute.”
Fao nodded. He could stir, he’d be out of the way then. He moved closer, aware of the blood on his knuckles. He was shaking, virtually trembling.
Fred wasn’t long, not entirely surprised to find Sheila crouched over a very confused Harrison. It had been a few years since they’d seen him, but he’d often turn up every few years anyway. The teenager had already thrown up over the front step, though Sheila had managed to start to control his bleeding nose - it was obviously broken.
The pair helped Harrison to his feet - he didn’t weigh much, more lanky than anything- and slowly took him through to the living room. They’d have to go to hospital, there was no doubt about that, but they needed to get him sorted enough to be fine in the car.
Fao kept quiet in the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters to keep himself upright. His legs felt weak, his chest a little tight. He’d fucked up, they were going to kick him out.
Fred called for Finn before he headed back through to the kitchen. Though Fao had attempted to stir, they needed to leave and it would be ruined by the time they got back. Fao looked like he’d seen a ghost, and he had a pretty nasty bruise blossoming around his eye too.
“Grab a hoodie, She’s taking us to hospital.”
Fao startled, looking up. “‘m fine. I’ll jus’ go up to my room, out of the way.” He said quietly.
“Not a chance.”
“‘m fine.”
“Yeah? That bruise looks fine. Hoodie, car, five minutes.”
He didn’t have a choice, did he? He toyed with just hiding in his room anyway, and then thought better of it. He didn’t want to get into any more trouble. So he abandoned the cooking, and rushed upstairs to grab a hoodie, feeling distinctly lightheaded.
They’d already managed to get Harrison into the car, a dish between his legs for when he inevitably threw up. Fao was directed to the front seat, Finn shoved in the back with his mum. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but had quickly been distracted.
Fred turned to Fao, offering him an ice pack. “You don’t look too great. Are you going to puke as well?”
He shook his head, but took the ice. “No.”
“Are you gonna pass out on me?”
“Probably not.”
“You feel dizzy?” He checked as he pulled off the drive.
“Not really.” It wasn’t a completelie.
“So, yes.” Fred rolled his eyes. “Let me know if it gets worse.”
“Notdizzy. I’m fine.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “We’re not impressed with all of…this. We’ll deal with it later, but right now, we need to make sure you two are okay.”
“Sorry.” He looked down at his lap. “I can go back to my flat after we’ve come back.”
“We’re not having a repeat of last time.”
He made a noise in protest. “I won’t.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get it sorted.”
“Sorry.”
“Not me you need to apologise to, is it?”
“Oh.”
“He definitely came out worse off than you.” Fred glanced at Fao. “You’ve got a surprisingly good punch on you.”
“Rugby.” He mumbled.
“Yeah. Better be careful on nights out.” He said. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”
“‘m careful.”
“Apparently so.”
Fao was quiet, staring down at his lap, the bruises blooming over his knuckles. “Sorry.”
“Hey.” Fred reached out to rest a hand on Fao’s knee. “It’s going to be okay.”
Fao flinched, pulling away with a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry, sorry.” Fred placed his hand back on the steering wheel.
“It’s fine.”
He hummed. “Sure. That’s why we’re driving to A&E at this time of night.”
“I don’t need A&E.”
“That one does.” He gestured to Harrison. “Kinda your fault.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
Fred raised his eyebrow. “Looks like you did.”
“I-” Fao cut himself off. “Nevermind.”
“At least we don’t need a guard dog.”
“I was only trying to…”
“Break his nose? Did a good job at that.”
“No.” He protested, his voice wavering.
“What, then?”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? Still fucking did it.”
“I’m not swearing at you, I don’t appreciate you swearing at me.” He warned.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, and decided not to say anything else.
Fred didn’t bother to reply. There was no talking to him when he was like that, and he didn’t really have the energy. Harrison was still throwing up in the back seat, Sheila having her work cut out trying to soothe him and keep Finn distracted.
Every time the other boy vomited, Fao winced. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, adding nausea to his guilt. He had half a mind to bolt when they got to the hospital, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with it.
Fred pulled in, dropping the car close to the entrance. “Fao, you go in with Sheila and Hars. I’m going to take Finn home. You can call me when you’re done.”
He nodded, pulling his hoodie closer, and got out of the car wordlessly. He waited for Sheila and Harrison, looking down at the floor.
Sheila said goodbye to her husband and son, walking the other two into the emergency reception. “I don’t know what went on between the two of you, but if you two cause any problems in the emergency department, so help me god.”
Fao shook his head. “Won’t.”
Harrison’s agreement was with his head in the sick bowl, looking up at Fao and then Sheila. “He started it.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did too.”
Fao huffed. “It’s always my fault.”
“Boys. That’s enough.”
Fao shrugged but fell silent. They headed inside and got checked in, Sheila sat between the two boys.
Harrison was seen to first, thanks to Fao knocking him out. She didn’t trust Fao not to run off, so made him sit outside the bay as Harrison was seen to. They had a bit more to check with Harrison too, the younger boy having just turned up on their doorstep.
Fao hated being stuck in the ED. Especially when he wasn’t really all that injured, and he didn’t really have Sheila for comfort. She was preoccupied keeping Harrison on the straight and narrow. It did make Fao wonder what the point of the both of them coming in was. Of course, he was stuck waiting, the A&E corridors cold and unwelcoming.
With Harrison reasonably settled in a bed in majors, Sheila headed to the corridor to find Fao. She sat heavily beside him, turning to look at the bruises on his face.
He looked over at her. “He okay?”
“Settled. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Yeah, you look fine.”
He shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Don’t really need to be here.”
“I still want you checked over.”
“I’m fine.”
“Better than he is.”
“My fault.”
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you. That’s for you to sort out when you’re both better.”
“I fucked up.”
“I doubt it was all your fault.”
“Might as well be.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is in Fred’s opinion.”
“Did he say that?” She asked, nudging him.
“Pretty much. Said it was my fault we had to come in.”
“Well, you did knock Harrison out.”
“So it’s all my fault.”
“Did you need to knock him out?”
“Obviously not. I didn’t mean to knock him out.”
“What were you meaning to do then?’
“I don’t know, okay?!” He snapped. “He showed up, I didn’t know who the fuck he was, he got aggy, I didn’t want someone coming in the . house when I had no idea who they are and they were acting out. He looked like he was going to force his way inside, so I swung. He’d already swung at me, so… I reacted. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”
Sheila was calm. "Why didn’t you get one of us?”
“I don’t know. Because he was asking for you like he owned the place. And he was drunk, it put me on edge.”
“All the more reason to get one of us. Or just walk away, shut the door and all that.”
“I thought I could handle things. Y’know, look out for everyone.”
“That’s what we’re there for.”
“It’s different. I don’t know.”
“We’re the adults. The adult adults. We’re here to look after you.”
“I jus’ wanted to look after things.”
“I appreciate that, but it hasn’t worked out too well this time.”
“I know.”
“You can’t just get away with it.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“There has to be some punishment.”
He shrugged. “I don’t expect otherwise.”
“I know, but I don’t want it to be like it used to. The problem is that we have to have some repercussions for our actions, you know?”
“I understand that. I was never under any illusion that there wouldn’t be? I fucked up.”
“I just don’t want you to think we’re out to get you.” She said softly, leaning against him. “You were brave standing up for us, but it was just directed at the wrong person. With some stubbornness in there too, I bet.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“I don’t know what went on, but he’s not a bad guy, you know?” She continued. “He’s been through a lot, not unlike you.”
“He started the fight.”
“Did he?”
“He shoved me.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“So forgive me for being somewhat on the defensive.”
“I don’t blame you for that.”
“But you’re still mad at me. Why can’t I just go back to my flat?”
“Because I don’t want you to go back and just cut us off.” She said, frustrated. “You go back to your flat and you get off scot free from us and you beat yourself up.”
“You keep talking about consequences. Whatever they are, I can take them, but I’d rather you stop pussyfooting around them and just tell me straight. I’m assuming you’re not going to beat the ever loving shit out of me, so I kind of need to know where I stand.”
“Of course we’re not going to hit you.“ She took a steadying breath. "Right now, I need to focus on Hars and getting him out of hospital. We can talk about the consequences when you’re back home.”
No. 25 - HIDE & SEEK
escape | flight | hiding
“Faolan!”
Fao stiffened at his desk, but didn’t say anything. If he didn’t react, maybe Tomas would think he wasn’t home. It was a long shot, but he had to try. It felt childish, to hide. But what else could he do?
“Faolan! I know you’re in there, you stupid fag! You can’t hide from me!” Tomas growled. “You’ve been stealing my cigs, you cunt!”
Fao bit his lip. He knew he shouldn’t take them, hell, he knew he shouldn’t smoke them at all. But there was a thrill to taking them from his uncle, and they really did help him out when he was stressed.
He had so much work to do, his GCSEs looming, that he frankly didn’t have time for Tomas being Tomas. He had pages of maths homework to do, and a French essay he’d not even started yet.
Tomas stopped shouting, and it seemed like he’d forgotten about Fao and the missing cigarettes. Fao managed to do his maths homework, even get halfway through his French essay and was considering going to bed when the door swung open and in burst his uncle.
“You’re gonna pay, you fuckin’ cunt!” He growled, clutching a mostly empty bottle of vodka.
Fao flinched, dropping his pen with a clatter. “Please, I…”
“Please!” Tomas mocked, laughing.
“I’ll buy more!” He protested.
“You’ve done enough, fag.” He slurred.
Despite being drunk, Tomas moved quickly, grabbing Fao and pulling him off of his chair. Fao’s knees scuffed on the floor and his breath caught in his throat. Fao managed to fight back a little then, stronger now than he had been as a younger boy.
But his fighting only served to make Tomas angrier, and after a few kicks to his ribs, Fao was gasping for breath. His side burned, his chest was tight, and he struggled to speak between trying not to cry and trying to stop the room from spinning.
He managed to kick the bottle from Tomas’ hand, thinking it would stop him. But instead, the bottle shattered on the hard wooden floor.
“You always ruin everything! Stupid cunt!” Tomas snapped, grabbing what was left of the bottle. The neck and part of the top were mostly intact, and he closed his fist around it. “I should’ve got rid of you like I did to your Da.”
This time, instead of the kick Fao was waiting for, Tomas pushed the broken bottle into his face and then kicked him to the floor. The glass caught just below his eye, where blood immediately welled up.
Fao cried out in pain, clutching at his face. He curled up on the floor then, surrounded by vodka and broken glass, trying to stop the sobs that escaped him. It was weak to cry. Tomas got angry when he cried.
But he couldn’t help himself. There was blood everywhere, and for a moment he was panicked he couldn’t see. But the world shifted back into focus eventually, and his sobs fell silent. His uncle was gone, apparently satisfied with his punishment.
He knew he needed to move, to get up and go to bed. But he didn’t trust his legs to hold him, and if he made a fuss Tomas might come back. If he didn’t move, and stayed put, maybe he’d be okay. He couldn’t do anything else.
