A.N.: I think that after reading to many fics of ~Luigiluva11with Teen Hilson and domestic violence, something glued to me. By now you should now that this an AU fic, but just becuase of thier ages. I don't want to put your atettion away, so...
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Guilty
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When the silence had finally taken over the place, the sirens begun to be hear. First they were distant, and then they were close, deafening all the persons who were there. Green and blue lights flickered disturbing the dreams of the neighbors that night. The men got out of their respective cars; some came back with a trolley, carrying a body covered with a blanket and the others taking a young man with the hands attached to his back. The teenager was limping; he had his pant ripped on the right side and blood-stained. The blue shirt had stains of the same colors as his face. Those who witnessed the police arrival were more scared of the glacial cold that emitted those deep blue eyes than of his look.
Soon the rumors spread. Colonel House has been killed by his own son. Some stated that they had heard screaming before everything was followed by a big silence. 'It seems that the father disapproved a relationship.' the people whispered. His mother had been the one who called the police after her son stabbed the father in the back. The people continued whispering every time they passed in front oh the house of the House family or every time that they saw that other boy. He seemed like a normal kid, with his chestnut-brown hair and dark brown eyes, that since the day of the incident they were sparkling as he was constantly holding the tears, his clothes that were always tidy, with nothing that attracted people's attention. But since then, he walked bended trying to go unnoticed, as he could hear the whispers and the people pointing him with their finger and accusing him.
'He is the lover of the House boy.' they said. 'It seems that the father didn't like them to be together and that's why he killed him.'
But there were few that knew the truth, because those who knew it, made silence. They only spoke in front of the tribunal, and there was known what happened.
Gregory House and James Wilson weren't just lovers, they were boyfriends and there had had a relationship for several months. And things would had turned out well if they hadn't made a small slip, and little Cameron hadn't see them kissing in the school backyard. If the girl hadn't run to tell the gossip to the nearest person, if people weren't so gossipy, the rumor wouldn't have arrived to John House' ears. But they were seen, people were gossipy and John House found out of everything.
And that nigh when young Gregory arrived home, he was welcomed with his father screaming. Because John House couldn't allow himself to have a gay son. It was a kind of shame that he couldn't afford to have, specially being the military he was. The insults that were said, the words thrown at the air with fury, drilled Gregory's soul. But that wasn't what triggered the tragedy, the words were words. Although this time they hurt a million times more, they weren't nothing new. It was worthless when he claimed out loud that he loved him. To the shouts were added punches and kicks. Soon the young man had the lips chapped; the mouth bloodstained and bruises all over his body. But that wasn't the straw that broke the camel's back, either was when he was thrown against the table, breaking it and sticking broken glass in one of his legs. It was when he threatened James.
'When I put my hand on him, he will regret even of born.'
That was more of he was willing to bare. It didn't matter what he father did to him, or how many times he shout or punch him. He could put up with everything, and even if it not, he wasn't going to let him to mess up with the only thing he cared about. Not with James. That's why he didn't think too much when he heard those words. As soon as he made out the knife lying on the shelf, he took it. He didn't give time to his father to realize that he was being attacked; he wouldn't let him to hurt James. But in the moment that the knife was buried in the colonel's back, a part of House died. That little innocence that was left, finally vanished. He would never be the same again.
Gregory House was found guilty and received a seven years sentence. Because he was of age he was sent to prison. James visited him every time he could; however, Gregory was not the same anymore. Since that time something had changed in him and he was more and more closed with time, and if it wasn't enough, he was lame now. The periods between every visit were longer with time. And one day, when he hadn't even turn twenty-three, Gregory did in a fight between inmates and some weeks later, when James went to visit him, there wasn't anybody to meet him.
James wasn't able to recover from the lost of his best friend. He had lots of relationships, all straights, but no one was successful. Eventually he was left alone and five years after Gregory's death, he died in his apartment with a liver failure produced by the amount of alcohol he drunk to drown his sorrows.
When he shouldn't have died, not in that way. Because he wouldn't have been alone in that moment, because he wouldn't have had to abuse of alcohol. Because Gregory wouldn't have had to died in a fight, because he never would have had to be in jail. If only the police men had truly heard him when he went for first time he made the report for domestic violence. But he was a reporting a military from the Army of the United States of America, an honorable fighter for the country's freedom, and he report was hidden. And when he came back home the punishment was worst and he never had the courage to report him again. If only there weren't so many prejudices against what's different. If only society didn't accept so easily violence in the day to day. But nothing can be done just with 'If only'. And thing happened the way it happened. Life took the wrong path, because they were destined to be together. But their 'Happily ever after' was broken and their life were destroyed. If only…
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Last night I heard the screaming
Loud voices behind the wall
Another sleepless night for me
It won't do no good to call
The police always come late
If they come at all
And when they arrive
They say they can't interfere
With domestic affairs
Between a man and his wife
And as they walk out the door
The tears well up in her eyes
Last night I heard the screaming
Then a silence that chilled my soul
I prayed that I was dreaming
When I saw the ambulance in the road
And the policeman said
'I'm here to keep the peace
Will the crowd disperse
I think we all could use some sleep'
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'Behind the wall' – Tracy Chapman
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A.N.: First, I hope you liked it and sorry for the mistake sduring the translation.
Second, I don't know why what it was spinning in mi mind House's abusive fahter, and I was in that melancolic oerfect mood for a writer and I wanted to write something. Here you have the result of it.
Third, Domestic violence seems something perfect to discuss. Is something that everyone should be against it, agaisnt abuse and sexisme. Because yes, sexism is part of the violence of everyday, even in cases of fathers abusing his childs. And more in a case like this, where society put the rules of how things should be and averything different, must be put away and destroyed as a rotten apple before the 'evil' spread towards the other ones. And abput all, tat is so acceptted. And injustice, something we must eradicated, the innocent is punished and the real guilty is never repress, unless not before is too late and bitter tears are falling.
Forth, The song I put. Even when in my playlist I have two song about it, this one fit better to the lack of justice and society hyprocresy. The other one is 'No Love' by Simple Plan, but at least for this story wasn't so good, or maybe it was the rythm. Tracy Chapman's was a more sad rythm for me. XP
Fifth, like you may have noticed, I also speak against Army. Yes, I'm pacifist and wars are caveman's solutions. I support Einsten when he said 'World War three will be with sticks'. Armies shouldn't exist, either weapons. If men was so evoultioned as he says he is, it wouldn't be necessary; conflicts must be solved speaking. There is no ideal that's worth the murderer of thousand of people, even less when that 'ideal' is just a mask for the power and money of other ones who give other behing tehir desk.
Sixth, comment! XP
Seventh, what a long enumeration, wasn't it?