Laughing Jack: How To Put A Jack In The Box Back In The Box (Laughing JackxOC)

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: A Mother and Sons Relationship

As Dylan arrived home, the faint sounds of movement in the kitchen caused him to pause in the doorway, his senses on high alert. It was a familiar scenario, one that could unfold in two distinct ways: Either his mother's boyfriend, his so-called stepfather, was home, signaling the imminent threat of another beating for some minor infraction or perceived disobedience, or it was his mother herself, likely nursing a hangover and searching for sustenance. Either way, tension hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over his homecoming.

"Dear me, how do you manage to endure such a disorder?" Laughing Jack's amusement was evident as he scrunched his face in mock disapproval, nudging a can out of his path, sending it careening into a cluster of others with a cacophony of clatters. The sudden halt in activity in the kitchen drew his attention, and he turned to find Dylan staring at him wide-eyed, like a startled deer caught in headlights. The sight almost tempted a chuckle out of him, but he couldn't quite grasp why Dylan and the others were reacting this way.

As footsteps approached, Dylan instinctively retreated, a nervous hand inching towards an umbrella nestled in its holder. "What's the deal, kid?" Jack queries, tilting his head in confusion in genuine puzzlement at Dylan's defensive gesture.

"Dylan Honey? Is that you?" a woman's voice says, making Dylan lower his guard and move his hand away from the umbrella.

"Yeah, it's just me, Mom," Dylan replied calmly as he entered the hallway, unfazed by his mother's state. She greeted him with her usual disheveled appearance, red hair pulled back haphazardly, strands framing her face, dressed in a mere tank top and underwear. It was a common sight for Dylan, accustomed to her hungover mornings and lack of attire.

"Oh, baby, where have you been? I haven't... When's the last time I saw you?" his mother mumbled, struggling to recall amidst her haze, her bruised eye a fresh addition.

"You shouldn't be up and about, Mom, you're hungover," Dylan responded nonchalantly, unaffected by her bruises or her lapse in memory. He guided her gently towards the couch, where she leaned on him, embracing him tightly.

"Happy Birthday, baby," she slurred, despite it not being his birthday.

"That's not until next month, Mom," Dylan corrected calmly, helping her settle on the couch.

"It's not...? Then whose birthday is it...?" she pondered, sinking into the cushions as Dylan fetched some fruit juice and water to ease her hangover.

"Aunt Mary's," he informed her, before attending to her needs in the kitchen.

"Oh, that... woman. I always hated her—always nagging at me... Did you know she tried to wear white to me and your father's wedding?" his mother complained, launching into a tirade about her aunt, oblivious to Laughing Jack's amusement as he observed the scene.

Dylan focused on tending to his mother, offering her water and promising to prepare oatmeal. "Drink this, and I'll make you some oatmeal," he instructed, handing her the glass and assisting her shaky hand to her mouth.

"Thank you, Dylan, you're so sweet," his mother murmured gratefully as she sipped the water, her gratitude lost on the oblivious Dylan as he returned to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Laughing Jack couldn't resist taunting Dylan's oblivious mother. "Oh, you're so sweet~" he mocked with a derisive snort, leaning on Dylan to purposely irritate him. Then, with a chilling grin creeping onto his face, he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with malice. "Wouldn't it be amusing if I treated her like a pig? Imagine, each organ carefully removed, inflated like balloons, then filling her with candy before turning her into a piñata" he whispered, relishing the sinister imagery.