Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Inside Out ❯ Broken [Part 1] ( Chapter 10 )

Elias had been at the dining table the next morning when Lucas had all but fell into the kitchen. He had extended a hand out to steady himself, and gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Eyes cast to the floor, he was careful with his gaze as it shifted over the floor, before he pushed passed the table and made his way towards the hallway and then the stairs.

 

He contemplated going after him, but Elias was still extremely uneasy about the things that had transpired thus far between them. Not only that, but after he had spoken to the police, his mother had damned near suffered from a heart attack when she'd learned that

his wounds had been self-inflicted. They had called in a therapist that worked with the younger generation, and Elias had had to sit for several hours while the man calmed down his mother and explained that although the problem was serious, it could be fixed through time, patience, and honesty.

 

Which was funny, since Elias didn't think there had ever been a day since he had entered Junior High, that he had been honest to his mother.

 

She had started crying again when she'd found out, and had frantically called the house seven or eight times in less than ten minutes to leave pleading, apologetic messages to Lucas. It hadn't really surprised Elias to find that when he had gotten home that morning, his brother wasn't there. He had expected as much. But he was surprised to see him back so soon. And look as shaken as he did, for he had expected that if Lucas would show any emotion at all, it would be anger.

 

Stabbing with his spoon at a soggy looking cheerio, Elias gingerly lifted an arm and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. The therapist, Kurt, he had insisted they call him (an automatic minus fifty points for him because of that name) had suggested that he not go to school for a few days more. Quite frankly, Elias was beginning to feel cooped up. And although he had no one really to blame for this but himself, that didn't stop him from getting grumpy.

 

“I have to get out of here,” he mumbled, pushing the bowl away from himself.

 

Getting to his feet as quietly as he could, the boy tiptoed to the edge of the kitchen before peering round the wall. His mother was asleep in the rocking chair adjacent the front window. This wasn't a problem, because he could always use the back door, but if she woke up and he was gone…

 

He didn't care.

 

Zipping up the sweater he had thrown on, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of it before hurrying to the back entrance. Slipping on his shoes, he didn't bother to look over shi shoulder before extending a hand out for the door. As his fingers closed around the knob, another hand fell onto his own shoulder, and starting violently, he jerked around to face whoever it was.

 

Lucas had a bag slung over his shoulder, and although he looked tired, Elias could tell by the way he eyed the door, narrowed his eyes, and then looked back to him that he knew what he was planning on doing. He stepped forward and Elias stepped back out of instinct, his back bumping into the closed door. His hand automatically laid flat against the smooth surface, and his fingers crept along it, seeking out the doorknob.

 

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked.

“What are you doing?” Elias quipped.

 

Lucas gave him a weary look before letting his eyes move up to the door.

 

“I'm going out.”

“So am I.”

 

“Elias, I don't have time for this.”

 

Almost hesitantly, Elias opened his mouth to speak.

 

“You didn't come home last night.”

 

Blinking, Lucas's brow furrowed before he adjusted the strap of his bag. Looking once more to the door, his grip tightened on the strap before he sighed.

 

“You got out of the hospital last night?”

“No. I got out this morning. But you weren't here when mom brought me home, and it was really early.”

“Does it matter?”

“Does it?”

 

He could tell his brother was tired of these games, and Elias realized with dawning awe that he was stalling for time. That he actually wanted to talk to his brother. It saddened him momentarily though, to think that he just looked like he wanted to get the hell out of the kitchen. Probably away from him. He probably thought he was a nut case.

 

Maybe he was right.

 

“Do you have classes today…?”

“I'm not going; I have to go do something else.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Jesus Christ, Elias. You sound exactly like mom. Get the hell out of the way, I need to go.”

 

Lucas extended a hand, and gripping his shoulder rather firmly, pulled the slight boy away from the door. Yanking at the doorknob, he spared not even a glance back as he jerked it open and stepped outside. The door slammed behind him, leaving the boy in silence.

Several moments later, Elias's mother came into the kitchen, her gaze sleepy but narrowed. Eyes moving to the door, she looked to Elias.

 

“Don't even think about it.”

“I wasn't. I'm going to my room.”

 

And with that, he brushed passed the woman and towards the hall, where he ascended the stairs with a small pressure building up inside of his chest.

 

-*-

 

“Was he home?”

“Yeah.”

 

Lucas dropped his bag into the back seat, and slipped into the front of Sheek's car.

Sheek checked the rear view mirror before throwing the car into reverse. Pulling out of the drive way in one fluid motion, he set the vehicle down the street that lead to the highway that would bring them back to his apartment.

 

“He decided he was going to play twenty questions.”

“Turning into your mother, is he?”

“Fuck, I hope not.”

 

Sheek chuckled to himself before giving a soft shake of his head.

He didn't need to be a genius to figure out that Lucas was in a bad mood; whether it be from the hangover or the events that had transpired that morning, he was unsure.

Either way, he found himself only mildly amused at Lucas's frustrated actions.

 

True he was only three years younger then himself, but as far as he was concerned, the boy was still a kid.

 

-

 

He had awoken that morning to find himself shirtless on his bed, with a mild headache and a shirtless, sleeping Lucas curled up against his chest. His arm had been draped over the boy's waist, and the other had seemed to be in a peaceful state. The light that filtered in through the blinds in the bedroom window had been painful, and he had gotten up to pull the curtains over them. The room had been engulfed in darkness, and Sheek had lain back down.

 

He had, of course, respectively kept his distance from the younger boy.

 

And when the younger had woken up, he looked dazed and confused. His hair was a mass of black, tousled strands, and they fell around his pale angular face in an almost beguilingly adorable way.

 

“Do I want to know?” he'd mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Sheek didn't answer, and simply watched as he stretched lazily before rolling onto his side. They looked at one another for several moments, and then somehow they ended up kissing.

 

The kisses were not the hazy, desperate and clumsy kisses induced by a drunken stupor, but firm, sure kisses that held more then just instantaneous need. Sheek had leaned forward and pressed Lucas into the mattress, and the other had let out a hiss when his hand gripped his hip.

 

“How are you feeling?” he'd mumbled between bestowing soft, meager kisses along the side of Lucas's throat. Lucas's hands had fisted through his hair, and it had taken him a moment to reply. But when he did, his voice was barely above whisper, and it came out strained.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

His kisses had progressed to Lucas's collarbone, and he himself wasn't sure what would have happened as he went lower if Lucas hadn't grabbed his shoulders and pushed him up. They stayed like that for several moments, watching one another before Sheek had leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Lucas's forehead.

 

“I'm going to take a shower.”

“Okay.”

 

-

 

-*-

 

He had burst into the kitchen with every intention of getting in, grabbing his stuff, and getting out. He'd damned near had a heart attack when his eyes fell upon the small form of Elias, slumped over at the kitchen table.

 

Lucas hadn't spared a moment to talk to his brother, and instead, fell passed him and into the hallway, where he had jerked himself up the stairs. He almost didn't make it to the bathroom on time. And while he had been puking, he swore to God that he'd be damned if he ever drank more then two beers in one hour ever again.

 

His stuff had been easy enough to accumulate, thankfully. Jam whatever was lying around into a bag and get back downstairs. He had been alarmed when he'd gotten back downstairs to find Elias by the door, his hand already on the knob.

 

He was even more surprised when he'd extended his own hand and dropped it onto his shoulder. The way Elias had spun around when he asked him what he was doing, and the guilty expression on his face had made Lucas suspicious immediately. And his quick, irritable response to his question had set off his nerves.

 

He had wanted to get out without having to come face-to-face with their mother. For all he cared, the bitch could burn in hell, and he did not want to have to deal with her shrieking, psychotic behavior. Especially when his throat was dry, bile was rising in his throat, and his temples were pounding.

 

The boy had stayed there adamantly, though, and Lucas had actually had to grab him and pull him away from the door in order to get outside.

 

-

 

Exhaling heavily, Lucas pressed his forehead against the window of the car, relishing the coolness of it as it pressed against his burning skin. Did he have a fever?

His stomach twisted into a knot, and he leaned forward in the car, pressing the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. One, two, three. It would pass when he got to ten.

 

“Do you want me to pull over?”

“Keep driving.”

 

Six, seven eight.

 

“You look like shit.”

“Keep driving.”

 

Nine. Ten.

 

 

“Don't throw up in my car.”

“I won't.”

 

-*-

 

It was cold outside.

And Elias hadn't expected his window to give so easily.

At least, not with his current condition.

 

He could see his breath in the air when he exhaled, and he shivered as he made his way to the side of the house. Back pressed up against the wall, he peered cautiously around the corner to make sure no one was around. Ducking under the front window, he all but crawled to the fence alongside the other side of the structure, before making a dash for the sidewalk.

 

Once safe from his mothers' sights, Elias had slowed his brisk pace to a casual, almost sluggish walk. He could already feel the cool air clearing his thoughts, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweater. Blue eyes dropping to the ground, he watched with an innocent fascination as his footprints left marks in the lightly falling snow.

 

 

He could think now, safe and free from interruption, problems like his mother, and worries like his father. Frustrations like his brother.

 

He had to go back to school soon.

He was unsure of when, because he was quite positive that with the last few days events, he would be `under lock and key', like his mother had said on the drive home from the hospital. Was it unfair, he mused, or selfish even, to want any sort of pity for this?

 

He hadn't wanted to end up in the hospital.

No, he'd had other intentions when he'd dragged the blade across his skin.

He'd wanted to die. Die so that he wouldn't have to put up with anything anymore. So he wouldn't have to see his brother smirk, or be ignored because he didn't feel like fucking him at the moment.

 

Why was he treated like a toy? By all of them?

Something that needed to be looked after cared for. Fed, washed, clothed, but no one really paid attention. No one except Lucas, and he was still extremely unsure as to whether he wanted that attention or not. But if he didn't, why was it that every time he went away, or every time he wasn't around, Elias worried about him? Or missed him? Both?

 

He really did have to be a sick individual. Maybe he should seek professional help?

A wry smile curled its way onto his lips at the thought. I could go talk to Sheek, he reasoned, without actually having the intent to do so. Maybe then I could see Lucas.

He had, after all, seen Sheek's car in the back when Lucas had opened the door. So didn't that mean that he was staying with him?

 

It was unjust that he could leave like that, whenever he felt like it. Stay away from home for a few days, weeks, months. Hell, he didn't know when he'd be coming back.

Lifting a hand from his pocket, Elias gently rubbed his chest to ease the burning sensation that was caused by the tightly wound bandages.

 

It wasn't fair because he could leave him so easily.

Leave, and not even give him a damned backwards glance.

Or an apology.

 

Lifting his face, Elias smiled against the cool snowflakes that melted upon his upturned cheeks. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times before his walking slowed, and then he stood still. Staring into the gray depths that stretched impossibly far above him, his face twisted into something along the lines of a painful grimace, and he tore his gaze from the sky.

 

Sniffing, he knelt down in the snow and wrapped his arms around his knees.

He was reluctant to say it, but he missed him. He missed Lucas.

It was a painful feeling inside of him, and it left him feeling unwanted and dirty.

Sniffing again, he rested his forehead on his knees and hid his face so that he could cry.

 

 

 

 

A/N: I apologize for the length of time it took me to get this up. I've been busy lately with school and other things, and haven't had much time to think about the story.

I also want to apologize for the length of this chapter, period. As short as it is, it's an important part of the story so I hope you like it! REVIEW PLEAAAAAASE!!