chapter song : carry you - ruelle.
trigger warning
11.45AM, June 3rd
Eight Hours Earlier...
"Presley, you have a visitor."
Presley's body tensed at the nurses words.
She sucked in her lips, a wave of nausea slamming into her as her stomach churned in apprehension.
It was one of three people, three people she really had no interest in interacting with. Now, or ever.
She ran a sweaty hand through her dark hair, trembling as fear crawled up her neck like an insect, it's pincers sinking into her pale skin; draining every inch of the happiness she'd collected these past eleven months.
"It'll be okay, Pres." Rowan said softly, his hand reaching for hers. He squeezed it, twice."I've got you."
Unlike the rest of their friends, Rowan had witnessed Presley at her worst. Being in the teen home for only a month longer than she had, he'd seen first hand the carnage that followed whenever her family visited.
"Why now?" She whispered to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around hers. "They haven't been here in almost seven months. Fuck, they haven't even called me, Row. So why now? Why show up now —when I've finally learned how to be happy?"
"I don't know." He squeezed her shoulder.
"Why weren't they here when I needed them?" She choked out, mostly asking the question to herself, rather than Rowan. "I don't need them anymore, I don't."
"I know you don't, you'll never need them again." Rowan reassured. "You have me," he gestured to their friends, each of whom had been doing their best to try and give the pair privacy. "You have us."
"All of us." Leo added, catching Presley's eye.
"You might regret saying that later," she attempted to joke, wiping her eyes as she pulled back from Rowan's hug. "Believe me, Row can fill you all in on just how fucked up my mind will be when this meetings over."
"Aren't all our minds fucked up beyond repair already?" Arlo raised his head from his pillow and smiled at her lazily.
"Lo!" Rowan gasped, a little too dramatically. "You're too little to being saying shit like that."
"You're making me sound like a child." The fourteen year old pouted. "I'm not that much younger than any of you. And I'm much more mature than Felix, thank you very much."
Oliver rolled his eyes and signed. "Debatable."
Leo nodded, ignoring how Arlo's pout deepened as he agreed with Oliver. "He's got a point, y'know. You've just learned how to speak your mind without turning pink."
Arlo huffed, arms folding over his chest. Leo was right. But, with that being said, shy didn't mean he was less mature, it just meant he was more cautious than most.
Right?
"Felix, I'm more mature than you... right?" Arlo asked, needing someone on his side.
Silence in response wasn't something Arlo, or any of them, expected. Especially not from Felix, he was never short on words.
Even in the times they wished he was.
All eyes turned to the boy in question, a frown mirroring on each of their faces as they took in his blank expression. It was as if he hadn't heard Arlo, hazel eyes dull — dead even, as the gazed at the ceiling from where he lay on his bed.
"Fee?" Arlo called, eyebrows pulling inward as Felix's dead eyes moved to his. "You good?"
Felix tilted his head and stared at him in a unnerving way that made the hairs on Arlo's neck rise. His hazel eyes lingered for roughly four seconds, before they moved back to their previous place. Dull, dead, drained of all the mischievousness they'd grown silently fond of.
Rowan and Presley shared a troubled look, one that neither Leo or Oliver could understand. The eldest two had seen this side of Felix only once before, and it didn't bode well. That's a fact.
The nurse poked her head back in the room, giving Leo no chance to question the odd exchange as her eyes locked on Presley.
"Sorry to rush you, hun." She said it with sincerity, but the soft tone done nothing to calm Presley's rising unease. "We mustn't keep your visitor waiting any longer or you'll be late for therapy."
Presley's shoulders slumped as she sighed. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing, hoping, praying for a way to stay locked in her own form of darkness. Rather than the shame filled darkness her visitor would no doubt bring.
A gentle squeeze to her clammy palm brought Presley's eyes to Rowan's. He stared at her with a mixed look of understanding and sympathy before he nodded. "You've got this. I'll be here when you get back."
Presley's lips curved downward. She took a side glance at Felix, her worry rising to the same height as her inner fear. "Fee..." she whispered to Rowan. She didn't want to leave him, not when he was like this. She couldn't.
"Has us," Rowan gestured to himself and their three friends.
He knew exactly what she was thinking, he felt it too. But, like the papa bear they often described him to be, Rowan would never admit his worries to her, not now at least — not when she had her own fears to face.
"Pres, he'll be okay. There's nothing you can do for him right now. We just need to give him some time and wait for it to pass. You know that as well as I do."
Slowly, she nodded and pulled her eyes away from Felix. "Just... take care of him. Okay?"
Rowan smirked. "Don't I always?"
Presley's lips lifted in amusement, the small smile quickly slipping as the nurse cleared her throat.
"Alright," she cleared her throat. Swallowing thickly, she wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and turned to the nurse. "Um," she stammered, fidgeting with her fingers. "Who is it? That's come to visit, I mean."
Please don't be—
"Your brother." The nurse responded.
Of-fucking-course.
"Great." Presley's smile was tight as she felt her heart sink to her stomach. "Just fucking great."
If there was anyone Presley hated more than her parents, it was Lennon.
"I don't think it is great." Leo whispered to Oliver from where they sat at the end of Arlo's bed observing the scene; backs against the wall, legs pulled to their chest as they sported near identical expressions of confusion.
"Hm." Oliver hummed, nodding in agreement.
"The rest of you," the nurse spoke up again, gaining everyone's (except Felix's) attention. "It's medication time. Please head to the front desk for your dosage."
"How wonderful." Arlo grimaced, nudging Oliver's knee with his heel as he pushed to his feet. "So very wonderful." He muttered to himself.
Oliver lightly bumped his shoulder against Leo's, tilting his chin so his lips became level with the brunettes left ear. His voice was low as he spoke, barely enough volume in it to be called a whisper, though Leo could hear the hint of a smile behind his words.
"I don't think it is wonderful."
—
12.23PM
Oliver turned out to be right, it really was anything but wonderful.
There was something he found overly demoralising about medication time in the teen home. Oliver couldn't quite determine what made it feel that way — not exactly.
There were a lot of factors to it, that's for sure.
The biggest thing to rub him the wrong way, was how the nurses vigilant eyes burned into his soul.
After handing him his medicine, three pills to be exact, they proceeded to then watch him like a predatory hawk. Eyes shinning with suspicious as he swallowed the film coated pills.
Next, as if that weren't enough, came Oliver's favourite part. With the horrendous after taste of something he could only describe as plasticky still stuck to the roof of his mouth, they would ask him to open his mouth and lift his tongue.
It made him feel untrusted and maybe a little incapable. Having someone, nurse or not, check the inside of your mouth like a dentist, flashlight and all, when they weren't an actual dentist... it was embarrassing, to say the least.
Of course, Oliver knew it wasn't the nurses fault, well, not really. He liked the nurses, mostly. Okay, that's a lie. Honestly, Oliver had nothing against them, he just wasn't very fond of people in general. Five of which being the exception.
How that happened, he had no clue.
Grimacing at that same plasticky taste he'd never quite gotten used to, Oliver glanced at the male nurse, Wren, with a blank expression.
"You know the drill," Wren muttered, tone lacking its usual patience. "Open your mouth."
Oliver, ever so enthralled by the situation, rolled his eyes, but complied nonetheless.
"Lift your tongue." Wren instructed, humming to himself as he took his sweet time checking.
Like always, Oliver knew the lengthiness was nothing more than a power play. Wren had always been a bitch like that.
"Okay, Oli," Wren pulled back with his usual arrogant smile, blue gloves creating a smacking sound as he pulled them from his palms. "You're all good."
Oliver stared at him expressionlessly.
"C'mon, it's therapy time." Leo patted his shoulder, pulling his eyes away from Wren. "Yay." He deadpanned.
Oliver stared at him incredulously, he had a big feeling that it would not be a yay situation in the slightest.
As the two boys strolled down the corridor towards group therapy, they crossed paths with a very unhappy Rowan, a nervous Arlo and a Felix that just wasn't anything that resembled their Felix.
"What's going on?" Leo asked. He pushed himself between the two boys, effectively loosening Rowan's grip on Felix's shirt. "Row?"
"He didn't take them." Rowan's voice was filled with frustration, though the alarm behind it wasn't hard to miss. Seeing Leo's confused expression, he clarified. "His pills, Leo. He didn't take his fucking pills."
"Felix?" Leo turned to him, trying his best to remain calm. Rowan was already worked up enough for the both of them, the last thing he wanted was for Felix to feel cornered or ganged up on. "Why?"
Leo hated his pills as much as the next guy, he knew how much it sucked to rely on medication to keep you sane. At the beginning, the voices convinced him that the pills would do more harm than good. But over time, with a lot of help from both Charlie and Oliver, Leo learned to let go of those internal fears and bitter words.
It was a journey of many ups and a shit load of downs, but just as Charlie and Oliver had reassured, the pills did, indeed, help.
It just took a while for their help to show.
"Felix?" Leo repeated, watching with thinned lips as Felix cracked his neck and smiled harshly.
"Let it go, okay?" Felix hissed, lips twitching in a way that made Leo's concern sky rocket. It wasn't the type of twitch where a smile would follow, it was different, more like a nervous tic maybe? "Everything's fine, we're all fine."
The more he looked at him, the more Leo could see just how tired Felix seemed. He looked peaky, his once tanned complexion now a pale shade of off grey. His once alarmingly bright hazel eyes had grown dull, the skin around them puffy, coated with a light shade of bluish-purple.
Something was wrong.
"Stop staring at me." Felix snapped, words rushed. His jaw clenched as he pushed past the four boys who'd been crowding him, eager to get away from their constant stare.
Felix didn't spare any of them a glance, his footsteps echoing harshly against the linoleum flooring as he headed in the direction of their therapy room.
"Arlo," Rowan turned to him, green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Spill."
"Huh?" Arlo blinked, twice, thrice. "Spill? Me? I have nothing to spill." His cheeks tinged pink.
Rowan said nothing. He tilted his head to the left and kept his stare focused solely on the blonde boy.
Arlo nibbled on his finger nails nervously, eyes everywhere but Rowan's. "We're gonna be late for therapy."
"Arlo," Rowan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Row, leave it for now." Leo patted him on the shoulder. "Let's just get therapy over with, then we can talk to Felix."
Oliver and Arlo nodded in agreement with Leo's plan.
Rowan stared at the three for ten silent seconds, before eventually nodding. "Alright."
—
12. 16PM
"I'll give you two some privacy."
Presley crossed her arms over her chest protectively, avoiding her brothers eye as the nurse enclosed them in the visitor room together. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to Nurse Julie, to grab her arm and beg her not to leave. But her pride would never allow her to do so, not when it was here.
"What?" Lennon grinned at her clear discomfort. He opened his arms wide to her, forcing a pout. "No hug for your favourite brother?"
"Favourite?" Presley scoffed, lifting her eyes to glare at the eighteen year old.
He'd changed a lot in the eleven months they hadn't been in contact. His dark brown hair was curlier than she remembered, said curls shaped around the top of his high cheek bones. His face seemed older, features more defined as he no longer held the baby fat she'd often teased him for.
Like her, he was different now.
"Well, you hate Bowie," Lennon shrugged, uncaring of his sisters glare as he moved to sit on the sofa in the corner of the room. "That makes me favourite by default."
"No," she shook her head, goosebumps arising on her skin at the sound of her eldest brothers name. "I loathe you both the same."
"Sure you do. It's too bad, you know." Lennon said thoughtfully. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, hoping to hide his growing smirk. "He was planning on visiting you next."
Trying to control her increased feelings of nausea, Presley blew out a staggered breath. It felt like her heart was beating too fast — too loud as the world around her grew silent.
Thump, thump, thump.
She could handle Lennon, Bowie on the other hand? They'd never gotten along. He had this effortless way of making her feel weak. He was too serious, too enthralled by the image of perfection; a carbon copy of their perfectionist father.
Bowie was the child that made their parents proud with little to no effort. The one with the perfect grades. The quarterback of the school football team. The valedictorian of his graduating class. He was the one without the mental illness; the one that didn't disappoint them just by breathing.
Like Lennon, Bowie was everything to them, whilst Presley remained in the shadows. A failure of a daughter in their eyes, a solid fact that Bowie never let her forget.
God, she hated him.
"What do you want, Lennon?" She choked out, swallowing thickly as her chest constricted in pain. "Why are you here? Why now?"
"I can't come and visit my little sister?" Lennon raised an eyebrow.
Presley's breath caught in her throat, eyes burning in a way that made her hate herself. Don't be so weak.
For a moment, a fleeting second, it almost sounded like he cared. Almost. Until he smirked, emerald green eyes lit with amusement as they roamed every inch of her neck.
"I don't see any scars," he said causally, leaning into the soft cushions as he draped his arm around the back of the sofa.
"I'm guessing you haven't tried to kill yourself again? Or maybe you have? Was it just a different limb you tried cutting off this time round? Actually, was it your own limb or someone else's?" He asked, fingers tracing the thick scar beneath his left ear to the end of his nape.
"Fuck you." She hissed, the burning increasing in tenfold.
Of course, he doesn't care — he never has. She couldn't stop the angry tears from slipping, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as Lennon's smirk widened to a toothy grin.
"Always so sensitive, P." He rolled his eyes, pushing off the sofa as he approached her.
Lennon wrapped his arms around his little sister, holding her tighter as she tried to push him away. She stopped trying to recoil, knowing it would only please him more. Lennon strived to feel powerful, Presley knew that. Similar to her, he walked in Bowie's shadow. The only difference being; he never got lost in it.
"Why are you crying? It's not like I'm lying is it?" Lennon rubbed her back, humiliating her further as his voice turned to a coo. "Okay, stop being a baby. Mom and Dad won't be happy to know that you haven't changed a bit."
He was right, they wouldn't be happy at all. She was breaking every rule after all.
Don't cry, Presley. Tears are for the weak, Presley. Smile, Presley. Walk straighter, Presley. Dress better, Presley. Stop talking to yourself, Presley. What's wrong with you, Presley? Why can't you be strong like Lennon, Presley? Why can't you be as ambitious as Bowie, Presley?
Drop the knife, Presley.
We're sending you away, Presley.
"Let me go." Presley wheezed, giving her brothers chest a hard shove.
"Pres..."
"No!" Her teary eyes narrowed, lip trembling as she glared up at him. "You don't get to call me that. Just do what you're good at and leave, Lennon."
Lennon raised his hands in surrender and smiled, a little too sweetly. "I said they wouldn't be happy. I didn't say I wasn't."
"I don't care! Your opinions mean nothing to me, you mean nothing to me." She felt a little bit of her strength come back as Lennon's smile faltered ever so slightly. "Leave, Lennon. Leave and don't come back."
"Very well," Lennon cleared his throat, smile back intact. "Say hi to Bowie for me when he visits."
"Burn in hell."
Lennon's hand paused on the door knob, he tilted his head as he turned back to her. Green eyes blank of their previous amusement.
He kept his gaze locked to hers as his fingers brushed against that same scar as before.
"Try pushing the knife a little deeper on your next attempt, little sister." Lennon opened the door, winking at her as he stepped across the threshold. "And maybe I will."
As the door slammed shut behind him, Presley allowed herself to fully breakdown.
Suffering in a silence she knew, all too well.
—
1.04PM
All eyes turned to Presley as she entered the group therapy session. She was, as most of them had expected, late. Thirty four minutes late to be precise, her chat with her brother lasting a lot longer than Rowan had expected.
Rowan turned to her, finally feeling able to breathe at her presence. She's here, she's okay. His green eyes roamed her face, taking in the puffiness of her skin, mixed with the redness of her waterline.
"Didn't go well?"
"No, it went great." She deadpanned, sending him a scathing look. "Of course it didn't go well, when does anything involving any of them ever go well."
Rowan winced, offering her an apologetic smile. "Which one was it?"
"Lennon."
"Oh," his eyebrows rose in surprise. Lennon had been the only member of Presley's family that hadn't contacted her at all. He'd assumed it would be Bowie visiting when Nurse Julie mentioned a brother. "Wow."
"Yeah, wow indeed." Presley scoffed, feeling overly agitated. Her leg bounced, eyes scowling at anyone who looked her way.
"Presley," Charlie called, not one bit intimidated by her glare. "You seem stressed."
"Really?" She blinked in faux surprise. "Whatever made it seem so?"
Ignoring her sarcasm, Charlie offered. "Would you like to get a few things off your chest?"
"Sure," she nodded, clapping her palms against her thighs as she stood.
"My brother, Lennon, came to visit me and now? I'm having some very intrusive thoughts about a various of useful ways in which I could murder him."
Judging by his bewildered expression, Charlie didn't seem to be expecting that.
"The one that excites me the most is drowning him. I mean, it would be great wouldn't it? if I could just wrap my hands around his stupidly long neck, feel my fingers dig into his skin as he choked beneath the surface. I could watch him, see first hand as the life slowly drains from his eyes and —"
"Alright!" Charlie stood abruptly, eyes widened as he clapped his hands together and cleared his throat. "Thanks for sharing, Presley. I'm proud of you for being so very honest. Let's table some of those thoughts for our private session tomorrow, yeah?"
"Whatever," Presley huffed out, feeling a little lighter.
"What kind of name is Lennon anyway?" Leo interjected, face twisted in displeasure.
"You think that's bad? Her other brother's called Bowie." Arlo told him with a shiver.
"Bowie? Like David Bowie? Seriously?" Leo snorted, looking at Presley for conformation. As she nodded, Leo whistled lowly. "Wow, are you sure your parents aren't mentally ill, Pres? I get they like legends and all, but it's a bit extreme, no?"
"Alrighty then!" Charlie clapped his hands together again, sending Leo a hard look. One that the fifteen year old recognised as; shut the fuck up. "Felix, you're up."
"Felix," Arlo nudged him.
Felix blinked, twice, thrice. Eyes unfocused as they lifted to Arlo. "What?"
"It's your turn, Felix." Charlie repeated, gazing at the boy with a hint of concern.
He didn't like this version of Felix. It wasn't like him to be so quiet, so dissociated from the world around him. Felix had this miraculous tendency to make himself the centre of attention at any given chance, even going as far as to insert himself into situations that had nothing to do with him. It was a talent to say the least.
Felix shook his head, neck twitching to the left. "No, I'm good." He dismissed, leg bouncing rapidly as his eyes scanned the room for the fourth time.
"Felix — "
"I said I'm good, Charlie." Felix exhaled deeply, face twisting into one of irritation. "It's one thirty, therapy's over."
Charlie glanced at his watch, clicking his teeth when he realised Felix was correct. "Felix is right, group therapy is finished for today." He muttered out, eyes never leaving the fifteen year old. "Felix, stay for a sec." Charlie added, nodding his head to the corner of the room.
"The rest of you can leave." He called over his shoulder, leading a reluctant Felix to the corner of the room.
Leo, Oliver, Rowan, Presley and Arlo watched intently as Charlie spoke softly to their friend. His voice was too low for them to pick up any words, but judging by Felix's body language; his lowered head, crossed arms and tapping foot, mixed with Charlie's frown, they guessed it wasn't going so well.
Three minutes past before the chat ended and Felix stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with an echoing thud that shook the walls, causing both Leo and Arlo to shrink back and flinch.
"Rowan," Charlie called, waving him over to the spot Felix had just left.
As Rowan headed in Charlie's direction, Presley and Oliver turned to Leo and Arlo. "You guys okay?" Presley asked, eyes roaming their shaken faces.
"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Leo responded, voice a lot lighter than either Presley or Oliver expected. Seeing her confused expression, Leo continued with a small smirk. "I always thought Felix lied when he said you were named after the king."
"Piss off," she chuckled and smacked his shoulder. "Who did your parents name you after? The teenage mutant ninja turtles?"
"Oh, that would be super cool." Arlo beamed. He really loved the teenage mutant ninja turtles.
Leo rolled his eyes. "My name's just Leo, not Leonardo." Is this what deja vu feels like?
"Mhm, suuuure." Presley smirked. "Whatever you say, Splinter."
Leo feigned a gasp. "Are you calling me a rat?"
"When did I say that?" Presley mocked innocence, smiling sweetly at him.
"Rowan," Arlo cut the pair off as the eldest of their group strolled towards them. "What did Charlie want?"
"He asked me to keep an eye on Felix." Rowan ran his hand through his hair four times, feeling overly stressed about the whole Felix situation. "He didn't say much, he couldn't without breaching Fee's confidence. But, according to Charlie, this has never been a good date for him. He needs us, now more than ever."
"He hasn't been himself for the last week or so," Arlo admitted quietly, feeling guilty for keeping everything he'd noticed to himself. "I'm sorry for not saying anything, I just... I didn't want to worry anyone."
"What do you mean by hasn't been himself?"
Arlo fidgeted with his fingers, throat feeling a lot dryer than it had been only minutes ago. "He's been restless, he hasn't slept much. Or at all, really. I hear him up at all hours of the night, which isn't like him. Felix loves sleep."
Oliver pursed his lips as he hummed thoughtfully, before nodding in agreement. Felix really did love his sleep.
"What else, Lo?" Presley asked, tone gentle.
"Um, he's been a little snappy, like the smallest thing can set him off."
"Well, shit." Leo ran a stressed hand down his face. "That doesn't sound good."
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," Oliver signed to him, coughing a wheeze as Leo elbowed his upper ribcage. "Asshole."
"Cut it out," Rowan stepped between the pair, gripping the back of Oliver's shirt before he could send an elbow of retaliation. "Let's go find, Felix and try to cheer him up, okay?"
Presley rolled her eyes and saluted him. "Aye, aye, Captain."
—
2.13PM
Finding Felix wasn't as hard as they had expected it to be.
He was in the second place they'd looked; sitting on his bed in his and Arlo's shared bedroom. He didn't acknowledge any of them as they came in, almost as if he'd expected their arrival. Rowan assumed this was the case.
"Fee," Presley lay down on the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around his tall, lanky frame. "Wanna go to the tv room and watch reruns of The OC? That always does the trick in cheering you up."
"What's The OC?" Arlo asked, tone confused. He sat down on his own bed, legs crossing into a basket as he awaited a response.
"Oh my dear child," Presley gasped. "You haven't lived, Lo. It's only one of the greatest masterpieces ever made."
"I wouldn't go that far," Rowan commented, receiving nods in agreement from both Oliver and Leo. His eyes widened at seeing Presley's glare. "I mean, it's good, but it's not that good. I've always been more of a Gossip Girl fan myself."
"Nice save," Leo snorted. "I hate pointless teen drama shows."
"With the amount of siblings you have, your life is a pointless teen drama show." Presley commented. "Seriously, though, didn't your parents own a tv?"
Leo shrugged, "You'd have to ask them that, but they're dead so..."
"Dead." Felix repeated, voice hollow. "My parents are dead, too."
"Hasn't this conversation took a great turn," Rowan closed his eyes, waiting for the car crash to unfold.
"Why don't we get some lunch?" Arlo squeaked out.
Oliver nodded, proceeding to move to the door. He knew Arlo must've felt extreme discomfort about the current topic of conversation, because Arlo never suggested getting lunch, or any form of eating time for that matter.
"I'm not hungry," Felix pulled away from Presley's hold and turned to face the wall.
"You sure?" Presley frowned, "I think they have chocolate pudding for dessert today, surely you don't wanna miss that."
"You guys go eat," Rowan told them, eyes still on Felix. "I'll stay with him."
"No, we can all stay." Leo sat back down, resting his back against the wall to get comfortable.
"Nope, not a chance," Rowan stood, moving towards Leo, he pulled the younger boy to his feet. "You and Arlo need to eat lunch, you barely ate any breakfast."
"Sí papà," Leo rolled his eyes, pulling away from Rowan's hold. "Qualunque cosa tu dica."
"I think he just called you an asshole."
Presley had no idea what Leo said, given the fact the only two languages she knew were English and French, but she never missed out on an opportunity to piss either Leo or Rowan off.
"No, he didn't," Felix lazily added, his voice still lacking it's usual boyish charm. "He did call you daddy, though."
"Did I fuck." Leo's nose scrunched in distaste.
"Doesn't papa mean daddy in Italian?" Arlo questioned, to which Oliver nodded with a shit eating grin.
"No," Leo grumbled, smacking the back of Oliver's head. "Shut up, Oli. It doesn't mean daddy, it means dad."
"And daddy." Felix concluded.
"I think I prefer it when you don't speak." Leo huffed, proceeding to drag Presley out of the room, now feeling overly eager to get away from Felix.
"I guess that's our que," Arlo smiled softly at Felix. "See you guys in a bit. We'll save you both some pudding."
Oliver left silently.
—
3.23PM
Rowan spent the majority of his alone time with Felix trying to process his thoughts.
His head felt like it was ready to explode, his mind working on overdrive as every inch of control he thought he held close, slowly began to slip through his fingers.
Rowan didn't like change. He didn't like experiencing the unexpected. He didn't like it if someone changed how he'd already planned his day in his head. He felt content — safe with a solidified routine.
If he didn't have that...
"You can go eat," Felix's detached voice reached his ears, pulling him away from the darkness that reached out to him. "I don't need you here."
"I never said you did, Fe. But I want to be here," Rowan said, eyes meeting Felix's. "With you."
Felix stared at him for a few moments, as if trying to find a lie, or a catch, or just something — anything but the truth. When Rowan gave nothing but honesty away, Felix nodded slowly.
"I never thought I'd say this, but..." Rowan sucked in a breath, knowing that Felix would use this moment against him in the future. "I miss your voice, Felix. It's weird when you're here but not really here."
Felix didn't comment.
"You can tell me anything, y'know? I don't know what's going on in that head of yours. And I don't know why this day or week is hard for you, but I'm here, Felix. I'm here, I'll always be by your side."
Rowan's shoulders sagged in defeat, he tried to tell himself that it didn't matter if Felix responded or not. Felix heard him, that's what counts.
"How can I be here but not really here?" Felix surprised him by speaking up, but the surprise slowly morphed to unease at the anger the younger boys voice held.
Felix didn't look at him, eyes fixated on the wall as he spoke. As silly as it sounds, it was almost as if he wasn't truly speaking to Rowan.
"That makes no sense. If I'm here, then I'm here. I don't need to talk all the time, you never get annoyed with Oliver, or Leo, or Arlo whenever they don't want to talk... so why are you getting pissed at me for doing the same?" He snapped, voice quicker than a whip.
"That's not what I'm saying, Fee." Rowan tried to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. "You can be silent if silence is what you need, but I don't think it is."
"So now you know what's best?" Felix shook his head in a way that showed Rowan his agitation. Pushing to his feet, Felix began pacing the room, hands clutching his raven hair in tight fists.
"You're just like them. You think you know better than I do. You think you can change me — fix me. But, you can't. Don't you get it, Row? I don't need fixing, none of us do. We're fine, we're all fine." Felix was growing more and more delirious by the second, his anger was gone, his scowl replaced with a bone chilling, manic looking smile.
"Yeah, Fee." Rowan nodded, slowly. He didn't know what to do right now, he didn't want Felix getting more worked up, so it seemed like agreeing with the fifteen year old would be the best option. "You're right. I'm sorry. You're fine, we're all fine."
"Good," Felix blew out a breath from between his teeth, manic smile never leaving as his wife eyes remained unblinking. "That's good. We're good. Everything is good."
Rowan hummed.
Nothing was good, nothing at all. Something was seriously wrong.
3.56PM
"Guys!" Arlo barged into the room, oblivious to the ample tension as he beamed at the two. "We saved you some pudding cups! Like, three for each of you."
"That's great, Lo." Rowan cleared his throat, trying his best to smile back at his small friend.
"Isn't it!" Arlo nodded enthusiastically.
"Oliver didn't think so." He pouted, cheeks warming to a light pink. "He signed something about it being a pathetic attempt, but hey ho what does he know. Are you both coming to the tv room? Presley and Leo are saving seats and stealing the remote for us."
Rowan glanced at Felix cautiously, his heart pounding a little faster in his chest when he realised the fifteen year old was still staring at him with the same blank, yet manic expression.
"Yeah," Rowan mumbled, "Sounds good."
—
6.35PM
"Let's watch one more?" Presley suggested, unimpressed by the groans from three of the five boys.
"Oh, c'mon, it's Friday. Curfew isn't until ten tonight, we can watch just one more episode and then head to Leo and Oli's room for a bit before bed?" She widened her eyes, nudging Arlo to do the same.
Leo caved first.
"Fine," he sighed. "One more."
As the California theme tune played for the third time tonight, Rowan's eyes remained where they had been since they arrived at the tv room; on Felix.
His emerald eyes narrowed as Felix's head and lips continued to twitch every few seconds. Locking on the way his eyes scanned the room when he assumed no one was watching. He seemed paranoid in a way that Rowan could never understand.
The manic smile had thankfully left now, but the strangeness hadn't, nor had the coldness that seeped up Rowan's spine.
This wasn't his Felix; the Felix with more energy than a Golden Retriever; the Felix that spoke his mind without a second thought; the Felix that would hug you until you felt like yourself again.
God, Rowan missed that Felix; their Felix.
He'd witnessed only one of Felix's dark days in the past, but it was nothing compared to this.
Unbeknown to Rowan, he wasn't the only one paying attention to something other than the television.
"Row," Leo spoke up, voice shaky.
Rowan, from what Leo had gathered over the past few months, had always been the observant type, but this was different. This was a deeper kind of seeing that Leo didn't want to try and decipher. The more he watched Rowan, as Rowan watched Felix, the more the worry in his chest became an unbearable amount of weight for his heart.
"Are you okay? You've been acting a little off."
Leo watched as Rowan rubbed a hand down his face, green eyes still set on Felix.
"I think... I think I'm scared." Rowan admitted, sounding almost bashful.
Leo understood his fear. He knew, like his friends knew, the seventeen year old prided himself of being the Dad of their group; the protector — the strong one — the one that carried everyone else's hurt on top of his own.
"About Felix?" Leo whispered, glancing at the by in question, frowning slightly as his vacant expression.
Rowan nodded, "Yeah, he's just not himself and trying to help him but not knowing how... it's driving me crazy."
Leo chuckled under his breath, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
Rowan finally turned to him, glaring as he did. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, it's just..." Leo smiled, shaking his head. "You say it as if we aren't crazy already."
It was Rowan's turn to smile now. He bumped his shoulder against Leo's, smile morphing to a grin. "Shut up, you know what I mean."
"Mhm," Leo hummed, patting Rowan on the shoulder as he tried to find the right words.
He wanted to reassure him, to take some of the weight from Rowan's shoulders and carry it with him. But through his time of self isolation, Leo never got the chance to learn how to be a friend.
"He'll be okay, Row." Leo looked down and scrunched his nose at his own words. What a generic statement. He ran his tongue along his teeth, cursing himself for being as reassuring as a black cat at Halloween.
"Look, what I'm saying, or, well... what I'm trying to say is..." Leo stammered. He didn't have a clue what he was trying to say.
"I wasn't okay when I first got here. Truthfully, I never thought I'd know what okay felt like. Until I met you. All of you." He lifted his eyes to Rowan's.
"Each of you have made a huge impact on my life in such a short amount of time, Row. You all have this crazy ability of calming the chaos my mind creates. And you've each helped me find a piece of myself that I thought I'd lost forever. Even Felix."
Rowan smiled at that.
"You, Oliver, Fee, Pres, Arlo... you all have the biggest hearts."
"Each of you welcomed me into your group without question. You acknowledged all the pain that went unnoticed for so long by the people who should've seen it." Leo blew out a staggered breath.
"And then?" He smiled slightly, his emotions getting the better of him as his voice cracked. "You carried that pain with you, no matter the cost. That... that's how I know Felix will be okay."
Leo's fingers tightened on Rowan's shoulder. "He has you, he has them, he has us."
Rowan nodded lowly, he didn't have the words to respond. Leo's statement hit deep for him. He's accomplished something he failed to do in the past. He played a part in saving someone.
Multiple someone's.
And for the first time in a long time, Rowan's shoulders relaxed and breathing didn't feel like such a fight.
—
8.03PM
"How did one more episode morph to almost three?" Leo groaned, stretching his limbs as he stood from the very uncomfortable sofa.
"Because, Leo." Presley sighed, dreamily. "Adam Brody is just too hot to be turned off."
Leo nodded. That was an acceptable response. She did have a point. "Fair play."
"Oooooh, do I need to call your dearest Emilio and inform him of your adulterous thoughts?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, close on Leo's tail as he followed the boys out of the tv room.
"One, we're not married so it can't be classed as adulterous." Leo rolled his eyes, picking up his pace as to hopefully tire the girl out. "And two, Emilio fantasises about all of my brothers, so he can't really comment on me finding an actor cute."
"He's got a fair point," Oliver signed.
"See," Leo beamed, wrapping his arm around his best friends shoulders. "Even Oli agrees with me. So, please, Pres, do us all a favour and shut up."
"Hold up," Presley quick steps, trying to keep up with the boys long legs. "He fantasies about your brothers and you're just totally fine with it?"
"He wants me, not them." Leo shrugged, his heart feeling warm at the truth in his statement.
"Well, I'm not saying he'd say no if any of my brothers made an advance. He's a bit of a hoe when it comes to them." He joked. "Actually, him and Atlas are."
"I really need to see some pictures of your siblings." Presley said in awe.
"Sucks that I'm taken, Pres. I'm the best of the bunch." Leo winked at her, jumping as she smacked the back of his head. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" He laughed, "I've got some pictures in my room, I'll show you them once we get there."
"Oh, I wanna see them too!" Arlo joined in, blushing as all eyes turned to him. "N-not for the same reasons as Pres! I just wanna see what they look like." He stammered bashfully.
"You're so cute." Presley teased, pinching his cheeks.
—
8.15PM
"Oh, wow. This is Carter?" Presley turned from her spot on Leo's bed, holding the photograph out to him. When he confirmed with a nod, she let out a long sigh. "He is a snack."
"Um, ew?" Leo's face scrunched with disgust. "Could you not." He scolded, attempting to snatch the photo from her tightened fingers.
"Nuhu," she pouted, pulling it away from him, eyes proceeding to roam the different faces. "Damn, the genes. This one, Alex? He's cute, too. I really like a guy with glasses. And I love blondes. And—"
"Okay, I've heard enough." Leo snatched the photo from her hands. "Gimmie."
"Gimmie a brother and I'll give you anything you'd like."
"Presley!" Arlo squeaked, blushing profusely.
"Okay, okay, fine. I'll stop." She smirked, "For now."
"After that conversation, I really need a smoke." Leo exclaimed, standing up on Oliver's bed to reach the hidden pack.
"You can't smoke in here, it'll set the alarm off dipshit." Rowan rolled his eyes at Leo's stupidity.
"Says who?" Leo challenged, grinning as Oliver handed him a sock.
This was their routine after all.
"What are you, Dobby?" Presley sarcastically remarked. "What the fuck is a sock gonna do?"
"Watch and learn children." Leo moved off the bed, stepping onto the bedside dresser as he covered the smoke detector with the black cotton sock. "Sorted."
"Yeah, totally sorted." Rowan grumbled, unenthused by their atrocious idea of sorted.
"Don't be such a downer, Row." Felix spoke up for the first time in a while.
His words made Rowan frown. Don't be such a downer... really?
"Coming from you," Rowan snorted. "That's rich."
"Okay, kiddies, chill." Presley really didn't want to hear any arguments right now. Not when they only had just over an hour of free time left before curfew.
8.25PM
Leo and Oliver ignored the rest of their friends, pushing open the window as far as they could with the outside bars, they perched themselves on the wooden ledge, each holding their cancer stick between their teeth.
"Can I have one?" Felix asked, a chilling expression in his hazel eyes as he watched Leo ignite the tip.
"You don't smoke." Leo frowned, taking a deep inhale of the nicotine laced fumes.
"And?" Felix retorted. "I just want to be a little reckless, Leo. Chill."
Hesitantly, Leo handed him the pack of cigarettes and throw away lighter. "Don't blame me if you choke."
"That's what she said." Felix joked, seeming a bit more Felix like, which lightening the mood a little.
"You know," Felix flipped the top off the lighter, releasing the dark orange flame. "My mom used to burn me with her cigarettes."
The tension returned in tenfold.
"Fel—"
"—Right there," he cut Rowan off as he gestured to his torso, words leaving his lips at a thousand miles per second. "She'd use a lighter just like this one, you know, the flip lid kind. She'd light the tip of her smoke, inhale it a few times before lifting my shirt and pressing the lit tip into my skin."
"I think I was around six the first time she done it. It hurt, but I got used to the pain after a while. It was pretty, the way the flames would turn to dark amber as they danced across my skin, leaving a trail of crimson red." He flipped the lid off the lighter, again, and again, and again.
"It was the smell that I could never handle. Burning hair and flesh. It's horrible, you know. Sometimes, she- she wouldn't lift my shirt enough, so the fabric would sear it's way into my skin." His eyes became glazed over, as if lost in memories of the past.
"I'd spend days at a time trying to pick pieces of polyester from the wound." He held the flame over his arm, allowing it to tickle at the rising hairs before holding it closer to his skin.
"Felix, stop!" Leo jumped from the window ledge, the cigarette dropping from his hand.
8.33PM
Oliver and Presley were quick to follow his lead, whilst Rowan and Arlo remained frozen from here they sat on Leo's bed. One, terrified of the situation at hand, the other... terrified of the horrific reminders Felix's words had stirred.
"That's the smell," Felix said in a mix of awe and terror.
He watched in fascination as his arm slowly began to blister, the skin morphing from white to dark red in seconds.
Thankfully, Presley smacked the lighter from his hand before any real damage could be done.
"Are you insane?!" She grabbed his arm, inspecting the burnt flesh with a pained look.
Felix only stared at her vacantly in response.
"Are you okay?" Leo asked Felix, taking a hold of his chin between his thumb and pointer finger as he and Oliver came to the boys side.
"Felix?" Presley looked at him, unnerved by his silence.
"R-row," Arlo whispered, snapping his fingers in front of Rowan's terror filled face. "Row, what's going on?" He stared at him, trying to think of something — anything to snap him out of his head and back to reality.
That was until Arlo smelt smoke.
"Guys," he choked, eyes wild as he turned to the scene before him. "GUYS!"
Three pairs of eyes turned to him, or, more so, the small flames growing around them.
"For fuck sake." Presley huffed.
"Oh shit." Leo wheezed. "This is not good."
Oliver sent him a scathing look.
"You think?" He signed, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up, Oli." Leo grumbled, rubbing a hand down his face. He really didn't want to see Charlie's reaction to this. "What do we do now? How are we gonna hide the fact that we've burnt the carpet?"
"And my bed," Oliver signed, unbothered as he nodded towards the slow rising flames.
"Maybe we should... I don't know, stop the fucking fire before thinking about that?" Presley threw her arms in the air, flabbergasted by their current thought process.
Leo and Oliver slowly turned from Presley to each other. "Now, that's a good idea."
"How do we put it out?" Arlo was trembling, the flames were only getting bigger and he seemed to be the only person in the room who felt sheer, blinding terror.
"Hit it with the blankets," Presley moved to Leo's bed, shoving Arlo from his space as she attempted to pull the sheet away from underneath him. "Rowan, move!"
"Blankets?" Arlo tiled his head like a puppy. "Really?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Her glare made Arlo snap his mouth shut. Presley turned her attention to Rowan, eyebrows furrowing at the lost look in his eyes.
"Rowan, now is really not the time for another one of us to lose the plot, hun. So please, snap out of it and fucking move!"
Arlo helped Presley pull the sheets away from under Rowan's frozen figure, whilst Leo and Oliver tried to keep Felix away from the growing flames. Which was a much harder task than either of the boys had expected.
As soon as Leo's blanket made contact with the fire, the fabric done the opposite of what Presley had expected as flames engulfed it in less than a second.
"What the fuck!" She wheezed, eyes wide in terror as she dropped it from her hands into the fire. "Fuck, shit, fuck."
"Oh, shit." Leo, who had his arms wrapped around a very violent Felix, winced. "I forgot that Shelia sprayed my sheets with scented oils, maybe they're flammable?"
"You don't say!" Presley snapped.
"Hey, she was being nice." Leo grumbled, passing Felix to Oliver as he tried to think of a plan. "She said it was a lavender sleep scent and lavender comforts me."
Ignoring Leo's pointless explanation, Presley ran into the bathroom, hoping to find a cup or something — anything big enough to hold enough water to combat the flames.
There was nothing.
"Okay, okay," she said to herself, ignoring how sticky her body felt as she reentered the room. She looked at Leo, who was taking his previous place in holding Felix away from the scorching orange flames.
"Did you find something?" He asked, his voice only now growing nervous.
Oliver from his place at the window, turned to her, too. He'd decided to drop his and Leo's most sentimental items (Leo's baby blanket, their family photos, and so on) outside for safe keeping, not wanting them burning to ashes like they, no doubt, would.
If only his guitar could fit through the gap...
The fire alarm blared as Presley's eyes met theirs, orange reflecting in her teary green iris'. "We're fucked." She glanced around the room, watching as the fire crawled up the wall around Oliver's bed.
8.42PM
"We need to get out of here, NOW!"
—
end of 80 part two.
-third and final part coming soon-
so... thoughts?
Who (or what) did you expect to cause the fire?
Presley?
Lennon?
Felix?
Rowan?
I love Leo and Oli sm
I did plan on having this written in only two parts, but it got too long so sorry for yet another cliffhanger.
(I know how much you all love them)
comment, vote and follow!
8300 words