There was never a time in his life when Jeffery Langley had been unfamiliar with assumption. It was all around him, his whole damn life, both when he was on top of the world and when he lived on the bottom of the barrel.
In Jeffery's experience, people tended to make assumptions before the thought of being weary of bias came to mind. He couldn't remember a time in his life when people didn't make their minds up about him based on some illegible notes written in some outdated file swimming around the American foster care system.
At the ripe age of eleven, after spending years in that system that defined him by a series of assumptions, Jeffery Langley concluded that this was all that life had to offer. At least, that's all it had to offer him.
He went into the system at four months old. When asked about his parents, he tended to shrug off the question because he didn't have anything to say about them. Unlike a lot of the other kids he shared bedrooms and homes with during his time in foster care, Jeffery hadn't a single memory of his birth family. He heard firsthand the horrific stories that some of the other kids told about how they ended up here: alcoholism, child abuse, sudden death, terminal illness, car accidents, drug addiction and overdoses, domestic violence, neglect, unfit parenting, and so much more. He listened as his roommates cried through the night after being separated from a sibling, losing their father to cancer, having just watched their mother get shot in a disagreement gone horribly wrong.
Jeffery couldn't relate to any of those kids; nor to most of those he grew up around as he was tossed from house to house throughout his childhood. Unlike them, he simply shrugged when asked about family trauma, about his parents, about what brought him to foster care. He didn't feel that he had the same sad stories as the rest of them. He felt lost, like he'd been mistakenly handed a fate that was meant for somebody else.
But while Jeffery might not have been put into foster care as a result of child abuse, that didn't stop his foster parents from inflicting some of their own. Some of the homes Jeffery was put in were violent, unusually cruel, and neglectful. Often times, he and the other kids in the houses would be scolded for not completing chores on time or for accidentally leaving a crumb on the dinner table. Some foster parents were violent and didn't hesitate to strike a child no matter how small or innocent. Others warranted punishment in the form of neglect. Sometimes, Jeffery would be refused food for days at a time. Others, he'd be locked in a small room or a basement for the same, dreadful amount of time.
As he entered his pre-pubescent and teen years, Jeffery started to build up the courage to stand up for himself, and even report his foster parents for whatever it was they were doing. He soon came to realize that standing up got him written up; another nasty note in his file that'd push him further and further away from the prospect of adoption. He found that running away or trying to help the younger kids he was in care with resulted in the same, unjust consequences.
By the time he hit fourteen, Jeffrey had been moved into a group home for boys. He knew that being placed in a group home was a life sentence; a promise that he'd never be adopted. Kids who were placed in these homes rarely, if ever, were adopted before aging out of the foster care system. The group home was different from the foster homes in that it was the other kids doing the abusing instead of the adults. He was horrified by the way the boys treated each other. They shoved each other's heads into toilets, stole each other's personal items from homes they missed, ripped up family photos, purposefully spilled each other's food, beat each other, called each other horrible names when they were angry.
For the most part, Jeffery did his best to stay out of all the group home drama when he could. At heart, Jeffery knew that he would've been a better person had he been given a shot at a normal life. He knew right from wrong without having ever really been taught it. He resorted to delinquent behavior only in times of desperation; like running away to escape an abusive home, or skipping school to avoid bullies who liked to beat up the new kids, or threatening his foster parents to stop hurting the younger kids in their care. These were all things that got Jeffery branded as a bad kid, things that were put into a file that defined him, things that kept prospective families from wanting to foster and adopt him.
The good thing about the group home was that Jeffery would finally be attending the same school for more than a few months at a time. With each new foster placement was usually a new school. Though the school the boys in his group home attended was one of the shittiest schools in the city. It lacked funding and resources and it was made clear by the most of the staff's attitudes that they didn't feel they were being paid enough to do more than the bare minimum.
That was, except for one teacher Jeffery had the privilege of learning from. Braxton Carson was Jeffery's tenth grade history teacher, and he was a diamond among stones in that school. Mr. Carson took the time to get to know Jeffery. Instead of dismissing him as a delinquent who rarely showed to class and had a record of bad report cards, Mr. Carson focused on the why behind the what. He pulled Jeffery aside after class one day and asked the boy why he hardly bothered to attend classes and didn't seem to care about his grades. Jeffery told his story to the teacher, who was not only empathetic but wanted to do what he could to help the boy. He gave Jeffery extra time to complete assignments, and made himself available after class and during lunch whenever he needed extra help. Jeffrey started showing up regularly to history class simply out of respect for Mr. Carson. The man eventually turned into a mentor to him, someone the boy turned to in times of both academic and personal struggle.
Jeffery was sure that he wouldn't have graduated high school without the support and guidance of Mr. Carson. Not only did he wind up helping Jeffery get through his sophomore history class, but the rest of the classes he took from grade ten all the way up to grade twelve. Jeffery didn't have the highest grades in his graduating class, and had no plan to go to college or where his future was heading at all, but he passed. He graduated. Mr. Carson told him that very few foster kids even graduate high school at all, and that the boy had so much to be proud of.
Even after he graduated high school and aged out of the foster care system, Jeffery stayed in touch with Mr. Carson. He still showed up at the high school on occasion to visit the man at the end of the school day. He talked to him about his future, and the current trials of his life. Jeffery ended up confessing to him, a few months after graduation, that he was living on the streets. Naturally, he hated the foster care system, but failed to realize what aging out meant for his financial and living situation until he was already screwed. He stayed in Mr. Carson's guest bedroom for a few days until the man helped him find a place to stay with his nephew; a roommate that was close to Jeffery's own age.
Mr. Carson paid his nephew rent for Jeffery's room for the first few months and helped the boy find a job bussing tables at a local breakfast diner. Eventually, Jeffery started making enough money to start paying his own rent.
During his time working at the diner, Jeffery discovered that he had a knack for math and working with numbers. He was able to calculate the exact amount of change a customer was owed without using the calculator the rest of his co-workers needed. His boss suggested he think about a career in finance or data. Jeffery soon talked about it with Mr. Carson who remembered that the boy's highest grades had been in math and science.
Jeffery started saving money off each pay cheque to put towards college. Eventually, after a year of working full time at the diner and preparing for college, he finally saved up enough to cover his application fees and most of the income he'd be losing as his hours at the diner would inevitably decrease once he started school.
Jeffery was accepted to college at the age of nineteen as a math major at the University of Georgia. He specialized in data research and analysis. At the age of twenty four, Jeffery Langley graduated with a bachelor's degree in mathematics with a minor in data sciences.
Jeffery's life formally turned around when he started college. Not only did he start taking school seriously, he met a girl who in a very short time became the most important person in his life. Laurie Prescott was a sociology major and possibly the prettiest girl at the University of Georgia. At least, Jeffery thought so. Their relationship blossomed into romance after several months of friendship. Jeffery finally told Mr. Carson about her in his sophomore year of college. By his junior year, he moved out of Mr. Carson's nephew's apartment and into one with Laurie, who moved out of her campus door room to live with him.
Shortly after his graduation, Jeffery finally left his job at diner for an entry level position in his field; data research and analysis. The salary wasn't much compared to what veterans in the field made, but it was a whole lot more than he made even when he was full time at the diner.
Jeffery and Laurie's relationship wasn't without its trials and tribulations, just like any other adult relationship. But outside of inevitable arguments and disagreements about one thing or another, the two remained close and their relationship prevailed. Eventually, they both landed jobs in their fields of study and were making enough to move out of the little apartment they rented in their last two years of college and into a little starter home.
Jeffery proposed to Laurie at twenty six years old. The two got married when he was twenty eight, and Laurie became pregnant at thirty two after several months of trying. Nine months later, baby Ralph Braxton Langley was born. The baby's middle name came from Jeffery's mentor and surrogate father; Braxton Carson, the teacher who helped him grow from a young, misunderstood foster kid to an honorable college graduate with a developing career, a beautiful wife, and a son to come home to everyday. He knew he was lucky, that most of the kids he lived with during his time in foster care most likely hadn't been as fortunate as he was after aging out of the system.
Jeffery planned on making it his life's mission to ensure that his son's childhood would be the blatant opposite of what his own had been like. He knew that he was lucky to have met Mr. Carson when he did, that the guidance of a good man had changed the course of his deteriorating life. What he wanted for Ralph was for his son to have a man like Mr. Carson as a father; someone to look out for him from day one the way Mr. Carson did for Jeffery in high school and beyond.
Jeffery had always been a good kid at heart, but it wasn't until he'd met Mr. Carson that he truly started to learn the lessons in life that he should've learned as a child. He figured things out rather late in life, and made it his mission to make sure his own son would learn how to do and be good without having to unlearn how to do and be bad first.
The trials and sorrows Jeffery Langley endured in his childhood had done the opposite for his morals than he knew it did for many other foster children. Instead of taking the abuse and the trauma as an example and an excuse, Jeffery took it as a reminder of the importance of empathy. In the most crucial and horrible phase of his life, Mr. Carson looked at Jeffery with empathy instead of judgment. He did his best to help the boy instead of dismiss him, like most adults did. That empathy saved his young life, and Jeffery promised himself and Mr. Carson that he would take that empathy and pay it forward anytime the opportunity arose to do so, everyday of his life. Unlike so many others, Jeffery knew the power of compassion and how a little could go such a long way.
Jeffery made good on that promise in his relationship with Jack Merridew, his son's close friend at military school, who Jeffery saw a lot of his younger self in. The day Jack showed up the summer before the plane crash, Jeffery was quick to welcome the boy into their home. He remembered the countless times he showed up at friends' houses during his time in foster care, the group home, and when he lived on the streets after high school. He remembered what it was like to run from something or someone bigger and more powerful than himself. He remembered that desperate feeling that wouldn't leave his mind when he knocked on the last door left on his list, begging and praying that he'd find somewhere safe to sleep before sundown. He recognized that look in Jack Merridew's eyes, knew too well what it looked and felt like. He didn't know exactly what the blond boy was going through, but he knew that Jack wasn't running toward Ralph for the reasons his son said, but away from something else. He knew Laurie didn't understand, and would snap at him later for agreeing to let Jack stay for two weeks without talking to her first, but it wouldn't change his decision. He didn't bother trying to explain it to his wife first because he knew she couldn't understand the way he did. He knew she was a stickler, overprotective of her family, strict and reliant on routine and familiarity. But still, none of that was more important to Jeffery than ensuring Jack had somewhere safe to run to.
Jeffery knew he couldn't save his thirteen-year-old self, but he could do his part to help save thirteen-year-old Jack. Though, Jeffery knew that Ralph would do a much better job of that than he could. He was grateful for his son, for the incredible person he was already becoming. Jeffery wasn't sure if a good heart was something one could acquire genetically, or if Ralph was simply a product of the things Jeffery taught him and the love he showed him. Either way, he knew that Jack was better off simply for having Ralph as a friend.
Jeffery hadn't told Ralph too much about his childhood at this point in time. He knew that Jeffery grew up in foster care, and that he was named after his father's high school teacher who was like a surrogate father to him. He knew that was why he didn't have paternal grandparents, and why his father went out for coffee with Mr. Carson every month for the entirety of Ralph's life thus far. Laurie was a big part of the reason Ralph knew very little of Jeffery's tainted childhood. She was overprotective and wanted to spare Ralph from any and all of life's pain. She wanted him to know only of love and nothing of abuse. Of course, his growing up and finding out that the world wasn't a perfect place was inevitable. But still, the woman wanted him to hold onto his blissful innocence for as long as possible. It wasn't that Jeffery had disagreed, but he knew that someday it'd be important for Ralph to know how his father became the man he was now, even if that day wasn't today.
Saying goodbye to Ralph the day Jeffery and Laurie dropped him and Jack off at the academy in anticipation of the trip to the U.K. was a hard one. He knew he'd miss the boy dearly, but worried more about his wife's budding separation anxiety. Two months was a long time, and an even longer one when it had unexpectedly turned into five. Jeffery thought he'd seen and lived through the worst life had to offer in his childhood, but finding out that Ralph and the plane were missing was so much worse. The following five months were agonizing. Jeffery could hardly bear the horror of not knowing what happened to Ralph, if he was dead or alive, where on earth he could possibly be either way. His heart shattered every time his wife cried, every sleepless night, every time he got on the phone in an effort to get answers, to no avail.
During the five months Ralph was missing, Jeffery relied heavily on Braxton Carson's guidance even more than usual. He talked to the man much more regularly than once a month. He could see that his mentor too was struggling, that for the first time since he met fifteen-year-old Jeffery, there wasn't a damn thing in the world he could do to help him. He provided him guidance and support in almost every situation the man had encountered in his late teens and early adult life, but this was something else entirely. Mr. Carson's heart ached for Jeffery and his son, a boy he'd met only a handful of times. He remembered how proud Jeffrey was to introduce him to Ralph, how he paraded the boy around like a golden trophy. Jeffery had shown Ralph off to him, and was so proud to show his mentor what an incredible little boy he was raising; another thing that never would've happened if Mr. Carson hadn't come into his life.
Like all the other parents of the twenty-two surviving cadets, Jeffery was over the moon when he got the call that the boys had been located and were coming home in military helicopters. He embraced Ralph at the airport. It was the most emotional experience he ever had. It by far topped being accepted to and graduating college, meeting Laurie, and even Ralph's birth. Finding him after many months of waiting and wondering was undeniably the most joyous moment of Jeffery's life.
But even so, he couldn't help himself when he realized that Jack just might need his support more than Ralph did in that moment. He saw Jack across the airport, the only kid in the place standing alone. Jeffery remembered every childhood memory in which he was the only kid without a parent; every school fair, every Christmas concert, every parent-teacher interview, every sports game, every graduation, every milestone in his life. He never experienced anything like what Jack and Ralph endured on the island, but he knew that there probably wasn't a more crucial moment in a kid's life to have a parent there for support. So he called out to Jack, without a single care for how Ralph and Laurie might feel about it. Nothing they could've said would've changed his mind anyway.
Jeffery, of course, went to bat for Jack at the hospital. The receptionist thanked him for looking out for Jack, and told him that he wouldn't believe how many kids came through here without parents to provide consent for care. But the thing was, Jeffery did believe it. He'd been in Jack's situation before; denied medical care for the very same reason. He knew he couldn't save all those kids the receptionist was surely talking about, but even just getting Jack into the examination was something. It was more than any of his own friends' parents had ever done for him.
Jeffery knew that Jack was lucky to have a sister like Paige, especially after she dropped him off at the house a couple weeks after the rescue. He thought about all the times in his own childhood when he had nowhere to go, no big sister to get him out of gravely dangerous situations. He was glad that Jack had Paige looking out for him, and eventually Ralph was added back onto that list too.
That same night after he set up the couch for Jack to sleep on in the living room, Jeffery climbed into bed with Laurie who was, of course, agitated by the situation. He knew his wife was far less than thrilled about having Jack over. She continued to insist that Ralph was afraid of him, that there was something wrong despite the fact that Ralph assured her that he was more worried about Jack than anything else he might've been feeling. Jeffery reminded her that there were countless times he'd been looking for a way out of an abusive situation at Jack's age; that he could still remember that horrific feeling of insecurity that rattled him when he realized the home he was in wouldn't be safe for the night. He was once beaten to a pulp just like Jack clearly had been earlier that night, and that it would've made a world of difference if he had somewhere safe to go, safe like Jeffery and Laurie's house was now.
About twenty-four hours later, Jeffery entered the master bedroom to find his wife sitting in wait. Usually, she'd be reading to tire herself out before bed. But tonight, she was just sitting there silently, staring at him as she waited for him to climb into bed. When he finally did, he stared back at her.
"What?"
"You were right" she said, folding her hands in her lap above the quilt she sat under.
"About?" Jeffery questioned, raising an intrigued eyebrow at her.
"Jack" she said simply with a heavy sigh.
"Why do you say that?" he asked curiously.
"When you and Ralph were at the store, I saw something..." she began, but trailed off as the difficult, recent memory resurfaced in her mind.
"What did you see?" Jeffery encouraged her gently.
"Bruises... all over his back. Not just little bruises from falling or bumping into things; they were bad, dark and unusual colors. Deep purple, a few spots of yellow and dark reds... you never had any that bad as a kid, did you?" she lifted her eyes to meet his as she asked. Jeffery could see the shock and disbelief in her troubled eyes.
"I did" Jeffery admitted, even though he knew the confession would cause more harm to his wife than it'd do good. "Bruises from abuse don't usually look like ones that you get from falling. Doctors are trained to look for the types of bruises you're talking about. Jack had them on his back?"
"He lifted his shirt to scratch. He must not have known I was looking... I-I couldn't get it out of my head. All I could think about was you at his age, and what you said to me last night about being in the same situation and not having a place like this to go when it go bad" Laurie cried softly. She seemed oblivious to the tears that had started to trickle slowly down her cheeks.
Jeffery scooted over to her and wrapped his arms around her, taking her into his embrace for comfort. He thought about Jack, wondering how bad the bruising must've been to freak his wife out like this. Of course, she had a flare for the dramatics even at the best of times. But what had thrown Jeffery was the empathy she seemingly developed for Jack in the blink of an eye.
"I talked to him about it" she suddenly spoke into the silence, and Jeffery immediately released her to look into her eyes again.
"You did? What did you say to him?" Jeffery questioned urgently. He knew that his wife's feelings about Jack were complicated and not overly positive. She might've been overprotective, but she wasn't mean. She wouldn't have been, he hoped.
"I just asked him about his family, about his sister and dad and how things usually are at home. His mom isn't around, and I think his sister is just as scared as he is. I told him that I saw the bruises on his back and he seemed surprised. He must've thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. I told him that he shouldn't have to, and that it's never okay for an adult to hit a kid no matter the reason. He brushed it off like it didn't matter... I don't think anyone's ever told him that it does. He seemed genuinely surprised when I said it wasn't normal or okay. He begged me not to report it, and I don't understand why he wouldn't want us to. You were right, he does need more support than he has. I told him he could stay longer if he needed, I assume that's okay with you too."
Jeffery smiled warmly at his wife, at her overdue realization about what both he and Jack have endured. He had explained his own childhood to her in detail, but Jack was the first person who'd ever made her see just how real it could be. Jeffery hated that his wife had to figure it out this way; that she had to witness it in her own house, to see with her own eyes what it was like when a cruel adult abuses the power of a child's dependence on them.
"Of course it's okay" Jeffery brought her back into his arms, gently caressing her shoulder to console her. "Thank you for making an effort with him."
"It's not that I'm not worried about Ralph, or that I'm not hesitant about what might've happened with the two of them, but like you, Ralph is more worried about Jack than he is about himself" Laurie admitted as she stared aimlessly ahead of her, still indifferent to the tears strolling slowly down her face.
"That doesn't surprise me" Jeffery responded, "he's a good kid."
"Of course you think so, he's just like you" Laurie chuckled lightly.
"Is that such a bad thing?" Jeffery asked.
"Not at all" Laurie smiled widely as she lifted her head off Jeffery's shoulder to momentarily peck his lips with hers.
Jeffery knew how hard the events of the plane crash and the island had hit his wife. Even after the rescue, she was still pained by the fact that Ralph had been traumatized beyond measure in spite of how careful she'd been in order to prevent just that. He knew it hurt her to watch him try and recover from the tragedy, how hard it was for her to be incapable of saving him from the aftermath.
It was equally as hard for her to accept that Ralph's involvement with Jack would inevitably continue to expose him to the horrific reality of child abuse. Jeffery knew how empathetic their boy was, just as much as he himself was. It broke his wife's heart to see Ralph scared and sad, to not be able to explain to him why Jack's father didn't love him like she and Jeffery loved Ralph.
Ralph came home later than planned after having gone to the hospital with Jack after his father threw the kitchen drawer at the boy, slicing his arm open so deeply he would've bled out without medical intervention. Jeffery was at the house by himself when Ralph returned. He was stunned at the sight of him; sorrow in his glassy eyes, Jack's blood stained in patches on his clothes. He was relieved that his wife wasn't home to see it. He wished that he could take the boy's pain away, that he could tell him just how much he understood what the boys were going through. He tried to assure Ralph that Jack was going to be okay because he had people like Paige and their family to support him. He resisted the urge to tell his son that he knew just how crucial the support of a good friend could be in times like this; that one person could change a life if they cared enough. Mr. Carson was that person for Jeffery, and he knew that they could be that for Jack.
But still, Jeffery also knew that there wasn't a thing in the world that would make it any easier to watch. There was no such thing as eliminating worry and pain in the face of abuse. There was no way to make it hurt less to see Jack hurt, no way to make it more bearable for Ralph to endure. Jeffrey hated that he couldn't make it easier for his son. Though, no amount of hate and anger would change that. So he settled for supporting him, and supporting Jack, because even though he couldn't make it easier, he could still make a difference.
Jeffery could sense how shocked and horrified Ralph was by Jack's decision to lie to Child Intervention Services and to the hospital staff about the most recent, severe injuries that brought Ralph to the hospital for Jack for the second time. Jeffery didn't say it to Ralph, but he did understand why Jack did what he did. He himself had lied to his case worker several times about how he sustained injuries in order to avoid getting another negative write-up in his foster care file. Jack obviously lied for different reasons, but the intention behind it was the same. Jeffery knew that the boy didn't want to be removed from his house, and he didn't blame Jack. What he was surprised by was how quickly his wife was to agree not to report the incident after Paige's attempt to do so failed. Her husband's horrific experience in foster care was enough for Laurie to agree that it wasn't a better place for Jack to be. At least if he was home, he had Paige. At least if he was home, he could get out and come to the Langley house whenever he needed. As strange as it was, letting Jack go home was a safer bet than letting social services take him.
Jeffery made the decision to tell Jack about his own similar childhood horror story that day. It was more than he'd ever told Ralph. Though, he didn't realize his own son was listening behind the wall. Jeffery assured Jack that he wasn't the only kid in the world who didn't understand why his parents didn't care for him. He knew Jack really did feel like he was the only one, because Jeffery had felt the same way at his age. Jeffrey wasn't surprised when Jack broke down completely. It would've been enough to shatter the ego of even the strongest of kids. Jeffery understood the horror of child abuse; how alone it made a child feel at an age in which they couldn't legally be alone, how detrimental it was for their self-esteem, how susceptible kids were to misinformation and the pain of feeling alone and unloved. It isn't fair, Jeffery thought to himself as he held injured Jack in his arms as the boy cried, it isn't fair that monsters like Evan Merridew can have a child to torment and break like this. Jeffery knew that there was little point to telling Jack that this wasn't his fault, that it was never his fault, that there was nothing in the world he could've done to make him deserve any of it. He knew Jack wouldn't believe him, because it had taken so long before Jeffery believed Mr. Carson when he said it.
Through Jack Merridew, Jeffery Langley paid forward what Braxton Carson did for him. Through his own son's empathy and goodness, Jeffery managed to create a safe space for Jack, a child whose deal was as raw as Jeffery's had been. He hated that he couldn't single handedly change the world; eliminate child abuse in all its forms mexicoand save every child who was born to a parent like Evan Merridew. And sometimes, his own son would express the same sadness. Ralph too wished that he could rid Jack of all his pain and trouble, that he could somehow attain the power to make it all go away with the snap of his fingers. And Jeffery had to remind himself of the things he told Ralph to take the weight off the boy's little shoulders; "you may not be able to change the whole world, but you can change the worlds of those you chose to surround yourself with."
It brought Jeffery great comfort to know that he couldn't have been in better hands having had Braxton Carson as a teacher, a mentor, and now a friend. He also knew that Jack couldn't be in better hands than he was with Ralph; a boy who may never be able to move heaven and earth for Jack, but would certainly never get tired of trying.