"Silence"
Prompt: 1
Prompt: 1
"You're disgusting! Go away!"
The sound of glass crashing awoke Henrik quicker than the young, violent voice that vibrated throughout the house. He was used to the screaming, however still hadn't grown accustomed to the breaking of various house objects. He doubted he'd ever get used to it, then again, he often underestimated the ability he had to adapt.
He never meant to adopt another child. He never really wanted to, either. He had wanted a break, yet the arrival of a young boy, abandoned by his previous Guardian, was shoved onto his life. He was not allowed to pause. He was not allowed to take a break. He had worked so hard to establish the job he had, and now he would pay.
Henrik worked in Clubs as a person that raised eggs that were found and could not be placed in a home immediately. Sort of like a foster parent, for half the time the hatched child would go to a new home when someone wanted him, but the other half of the time he literally raised the child until he was a late teen. He had liked children. Had was the proper word. Right now, he wanted to strangle them.
It had taken him a few years, but now he was worn down. When the most recent child had left the house he had been promised a break. He needed it. He was growing tense, growing tired and stressed and falling apart. He had been promised, and then a small boy arrived.
It was because no one would take him in, mostly. No one. It was considered that he'd be sent to the orphanage in Diamonds, or perhaps to someone in Spades, however the boy did not seem to like being moved much. He was highly reistent to change, and would flip the second the topic of moving him to another faction was brought up. Besides, he was a citizen of Clubs now, it took way to much effort and time to just transfer the boy. He was a special case, it seemed. No one wanted him because of this.
The boys name was Isaac. He was an Eeevee, a rare species. His previous Guardian had found an egg he liked more, and when it hatched he became attached to that child, and Isaac was sent away. Ditched, basically. Isaac had been known for being somewhat a problem, extremely affectionate to those he liked but also couldn't seem to string together a paragraph without cursing. It was thought that his previous Guardian cursed a lot, or simply brought company that Isaac copied.
The boy was hostile. The second he walked into the house he was cursing and breaking things, hollering and screaming. He was angry, Henrik guessed that much. He probably felt rejected, he was tempted to tell the child that he was about to be kicked out if he didn't shape up. God, he really needed to lose his temper, this wasn't helping the boy.
Rubbing his temples, the Umbreon rose from his bed, golden orbs rolling as fingers slipped through long black hair, watching it slip aside. He had thought, being once a young Eevee before, that this would be easier. No, it wasn't. He slipped down the narrow hall, not caring that he only wore boxers. The boy was already screwed up, he wouldn't give a s**t about his legs.
"Put some god damn clothes on!"
He was wrong. The boy was in the kitchen, and Sully was leaning against the doorway. His hand was bleeding. Henrik looked up, eyes locking on Sully. The pink haired man looked away, a faint blush on his cheeks when Henrik lifted the hand and licked the blood off. Henrik kept his mouth on the wound as his free hand rummaged for a bandaid in the nearest cupboard.
"That's disgusting! No one wants to see that!" The boy was grating on his nerves. He decided to try and ignore him, releasing Sully's hand and pressing the bandaid on. With this done, he turned around, facing the boy.
"I find the amount of hair gell you use disgusting. Change that, and I'll behave." He grumbled. The boy's eyes widened, touching his slicked back hair, cheeks turning a dark red.
"It's my damn hair!"
"It's my body and mouth."
"People wear clothes!"
"I'm wearing boxers. That is an article of clothing."
Isaac glared at Henrik, head snapping away and body flopping into a chair, kicking his feet onto the table. Henrik quickly shoved his feet off, in which Isaac slipped them right back on. Henrik gave him a narrowed glare, and slowly he cracked his knuckles. He had no intention of harming the boy, but those feet did leave his table. Turning to Sully, he rubbed his temples once more. "Do tell me what that crash was, Sully."
Sully glanced over at Isaac, grunting in the back of his throat. "There was just a little tiff, and a glass was dropped." Leave it to Sully to not rat another out. A tiff meant Isaac lashed out or simply slapped the glass off the table, but Sully wouldn't say. An assassin had to be good at keeping secrets, and it simply served to piss Henrik off when what he wanted was a proper answer.
"There seems to be a lot of those lately." With this, Henrik eyed Sully, sighing deep before standing and heading to the bathroom. "I'm going to shower. Try and contain your tiffs, boys."
Of course, Isaac let out a loud screech two minutes later, and he heard another item break.
- - - - - - - - -
Isaac hated this place, but then again, he hated all places. What he really wanted was to go back to Damian, his previous caretaker. He wanted to be loved and adored again, but that all changed. Now, he was here, and he hated here. Here meant a man that smelled of fruit and booze, and a pink-haired freak came to visit, often followed by a strange, green haired boy. He hated this place, and he hated Henrik.
Henrik he hated the most. He didn't even bother to pretend s**t, he was honest about his emotions. That drove Isaac insane, who couldn't be honest with himself about his own emotions. Why was Henrik so sure of himself when his only life was living in this shitty place, waiting for some stupid fricking pink-haired freak to visit him, and at times collecting a pay check for something Isaac didn't understand. No, he did. Henrik was being paid to raise him, and this made him hate him more. To make matters worse, not only was Isaac thrown aside but he was only being raised for cash. He wanted to stab the man.
He felt abandoned, and this fed an anger and pain that he had never felt before. He wanted to slam his fists into everything, wanted to break people before they could break him, and wanted to break what they loved. His anger was completely suffocating, and he wanted to either break himself or break another.
He hated how Henrik viewed that man, Sully. The freak. How Henrik stared at him and then would leap to his aid. Or how he looked at him as if he was the most important man ever, all behind narrowed eyes. Isaac hated it. He wanted to break it.
He was a mass of pure anger. And even when Henrik tried to care for him he snapped. He wanted to smother Henrik, and Sully. He wanted to kill this stupid affection they had. Maybe he was jealous... but he wasn't going to admit it.
Henrik was sleeping. He seemed to hate mornings. He rose mostly when it was evening or night. So, Isaac was left to his own devices. He sat there, at the table. Henrik had offered to let him sleep with him, but ******** that. Instead, he sat there. Quiet.
It was too quiet.
Something was wrong.
Something was really wrong.
Was someone watching him?
Was Henrik watching him?
Silence, he hated silence. He hated how accusing it was, how it seemed like it demanded something. It fueled the anger.
Silence.
.....
He needed noise.
He needed someone to yell.
He needed a voice.
It took him all of five seconds to rip the cupboard door off and launch it across the room, and one minute for Henrik to rush in.
- - - - - - - - -
Isaac had been acting up more lately. When the boy approached him and said: "You get paid to raise me." He could only nod. That had made the boy rip off his shower curtains. The boy had never asked why he was raising him....
Isaac was currently sitting across from him at the table. Henrik had been trying to have a break through, trying to get him to understand. But no. The boy had shut down. He sighed lowly, deciding to try another approach.
"You can't break things when you're angry. Perhaps, I can get you something to hit." Silence. Isaac was glaring, though. At least he was listening. It was then that Isaac suddenly dug his nails into the table, and then flipped his hands under, flipping it.
Henrik moved out of the way, watching as Isaac stood where he was, reaching for another object. A door. Henrik moved closer, yet Isaac whipped back, jabbing a knife at him.
"Leave me alone! You don't give a ********! It's all the ******** money! You don't actually care! How many times can I break these things?! You replace them in the end! As if they never mattered!"
"Because they don't matter."
"You replace things!"
"Yes. Things."
"I'm tired of you. I'm sick of this s**t."
"And why is that?"
Isaac was shaking. He was trembling and holding the knife too tight. Henrik knew in the end he was angering Isaac, and yet this was obviously the only way to draw out the emotions needed. Isaac gave him such a hateful stare, it was clear he was on the brink of either running or giving in. Finally, he let out a screech.
"You don't ******** give a s**t. The second I stepped in I was only money. I was and always will be the problem child. I hate all of you, but isn't that the point? Isn't that what was predicated? The second I was abandoned I heard the words "he's going to snap." "Poor child, he's going to have issues." Well here you go! I'm the issues they wanted! You replace things so easily, everyone does! Something better comes along, you leave the original! You can't deny it! Your precious Sully, who did he replace?! Wait, oh ho. This is perfect. "
A feral grin touched Isaac's face.
"You love him, but he doesn't know, am I right? Oh, this is why you're such a ******** mope! Perfect."
"Sully isn't the issue."
"Isn't he?! He'll replace you, too! Everyone in this world replaces! Items, pets, people! You replace until you can't find the best, and then you wish there was more! ******** all of you. ******** all of you! I don't want to be abandoned again! I don't want to be hurt again! I don't want to depend on anyone! ******** you all! I'll burn your faction down before I let you hurt me again!"
The boy had dropped the knife by this time, recoiled into himself. He was pressed into the cupboards, hands gripping his sides as if he depended on it. He was shaking as he screamed, and Henrik wondered if he was crying. He watched the boy quietly, watched as Isaac crumpled before him. Finally. He was given the truth, given the honest answer. What shook before him was not anything more than a hurt, lonely, and broken child. A child that was left behind, and had created a barrier to shun the others out.
It was then that Henrik reached out, wrapping solid arms around the trembling boy. The boy easily fit against his chest, and easily allowed the touch. They stayed that way for awhile, perhaps hours, until Isaac quietened and fell into a soft slumber against Henrik.
- - - - - - - - -
He was unsure if Isaac was better, or if the boy was too tired to continue the game. Either way, the boy had become less violent. There were times where he panicked, where he lashed out when he saw Henrik leave the room too soon, or when Henrik didn't reassure him like he wished. But there were more times where he smiled. Where he awkwardly but sweetly tried to assist Zale, Sully's boy, in making origami cranes. Where he would curse and rush over when he saw a child fall down and scrape there knees. There wasn't an immediate cure, but the best were never quick. Isaac certainly had issues, but he seemed more.... More...
Okay. He seemed more okay. That was the only word Henrik knew to describe it. The only word he knew. Not better, he should never have thought that before. Isaac was happier. Uncertain, but happier.
Perhaps Henrik was happier, too. Perhaps. He did smile more, too. And laughed more. He caught himself actually doing things he'd never do before. Even now, he was watching Isaac from the window, as if someone or something could hurt him when he was simply playing outside. As if someone could hurt his Isaac.
Wait.
His?
....
His Isaac.
Perhaps he might benefit better from calling Isaac his son instead of dodging around the word and saying "his".
- - - - - - - - -
Isaac watched Henrik carefully, returning with loot from his recent mission. Henrik never really approved of his thieving, but as a teen he was allowed to do as he wished. Besides, as long as Henrik was kept out of it he let it be.
The blue haired male considered asking what was wrong, though he could guess. Sully was about to go off on a mission. Henrik had used to work alongside Sully, he had discovered this a long time ago. Now, he was a care-taker, and while he liked his job, usually, Isaac had an idea Henrik missed those days, as well.
Or perhaps, he missed being beside Sully.
"Come on, stinky. You smell like booze, go shower." He was rewarded with a grunt. Lovely. Dropping the bag into his room, Isaac turned back to view Henrik. Worry was across his face, but it was clear Henrik was out of it. He should leave him be for the night. As he turned around, he heard Henrik move, and suddenly he was being hugged.
"Dad, you aren't normally a hugger."
"I know."
As Henrik went to his room to sleep, Isaac couldn't let go of the sickening feeling in his stomach.
- - - - - - - - -
Henrik had been missing for days.
Worry gathered in his stomach. Not only this, Zale was settled at his house, too. Sully was gone. At first, Isaac irrational thoughts had thought they must have eloped, Sully and Henrik. But, thanks to Zale's logic, neither were the type to do so. So, both boys sat there, waiting. Waiting for days. Neither could calm the others worries. Isaac was violently gouging the table with knives and forks, and Zale would sit quietly, eyes narrowed and breath low. They rarely moved. Sometimes, Isaac would stand up and rush to the door when he heard movement, but it was always the mailman. Zale cooked at times, but that was the only movements.
The two waited together, though nothing changed. Until one day, a frantic knock echoed on the door and it was Zale's turn to move forward. Isaac sat there, impatiently fidgeting.
Then the scream.
It was a foreign sound, but he knew it was from Zale's lips. As he rose and approached, he stopped dead cold. The other teenager was trembling, turning to Isaac and screeching words he barely understood. He didn't want to. He didn't like the grim look in the strangers eyes, or the way Zale crumpled to the floor. He didn't like how suddenly it was so quiet, how silence invaded his mind, shutting down his ears so he heard nothing when he could see lips moving.
The silence consumed everything, and his own scream came out hollow and distorted. He wished the silence had stopped Zale from speaking, perhaps he could have pretended then that nothing had changed.
Perhaps then he could pretend Henrik was still alive.
