In this story, Carlton is only a few years older than his sister, rather than "Much, much older" than in the show!
The dynamic I wanted between them really worked better if they were closer in age!
Hope you enjoy it!
He sat there, rubbing at the raised lines through his shirt. It'd been a tiring week. Not stressful, exactly, just the opposite in fact. Full of mindless busy work. Weeks like this put Carlton into a fog. His mind worked at its best when he was working towards an end to a problem. But when it was stagnant, unchallenged, he shut off to the world. He usually didn't feel like that in the station. Usually, there was at least one case that needed to be worked.
Not this week.
The dullness allowed his mind to wander into the darker depths; places it was usually too busy to recede into. So, he sat there, at his desk, staring and rubbing, He was thinking of his father again.
His sister's recent visit had brought memories and feelings that found him in his dreams to the forefront of his mind.
As young as age five, he remembered shielding his sister from their father. He'd never let the man lay a hand on her, going so far as to strike the older man first so as to direct his anger away from her.
He loved when his sister visited - rarely was he able to see her anymore - but it always drudged the memories back up, and the most recent visit was no exception. He had a nightmare one evening that saw her come flying into his room to wake him. He'd told her it was a normal thing for a police officer. He'd seen enough gruesome things during his career that any number of stressors in his life could set off a nightmare about them. He'd told her not to worry about him, and she'd bought it, albeit reluctant to leave her big brother afterword.
He couldn't ever tell her, though, aside from his ex-wife, she was the only one who knew that he even had nightmares. Now and then, he'd call her when he'd had a particularly rough night, and she'd always answer the phone, always listen to him. She never pressed him for any details, just allowed him to talk to her about whatever, or, if he didn't feel like talking, she would just talk to him about her life, every detail of her day, until he felt calm again.
He could never tell her though, never tell her that their gather still had that power over him. He wouldn't allow the bastard to get her though. He was still her big brother, and he still had to protect her.
Throughout his entire life, he'd been coping with the effects of his father's abuse. When he was a child, it was easier to hide the pain of it, because, well, if he showed any, his father would punish him more for being weak. Each weekend, his father would drop him at Old Sonora, and Carlton would beg and plead with Hank not to report anything to the authorities. He knew it would hurt his mother, but moreover, he knew the chances of he and Lauren getting to stay together were slim. He wouldn't be able to protect her if they were split up.
When he was a teenager, he got angry. The abuse turned into all-out fist-fights. One had even landed Carlton in the hospital with three fractured ribs and a concussion. Of course, he'd only gone to the hospital a few days later when Hank had forced him to. Carlton had told the ER doc that he'd fallen from a horse the previous evening. Whether or not the doc had bought the story was none of Carlton's concern; on his record, he'd fallen from a horse, and that's all that mattered.
But after his father left, when the abuse stopped, when he should have been free, he sank further into his father's clutches than ever before. It was when Carlton was 16, that's when the nightmares had started. It was as if his mind couldn't function without the abuse. The nightmares started out as replayings of specific events in his past - memories - mostly from when he was younger, and his father had been able to exert more control over him. Ice baths, drinking spoonful's of bleach, locking him up in a closet for 2 days with nothing to eat or drink, hell, he'd once tire him up in the backyard one week during summer.
He was in elementary school, his mother was away, and his sister was staying at their aunt's for a while. He'd put a dog collar around Carlton's neck, and chained him to a tree in their backyard. He'd given him a large bowl of water and some scraps, and told him to, "make it last." Every few days, he'd refill the water, and toss food out the backyard. To this day, every time Carlton saw a dog tied up in a yard, he had to force the bile back down his throat.
Carlton would awaken from these "memories", his breathing hitched, drenched in cold sweat. He'd pace around his room for a while, but eventually he found that going on a run down to the beach would clear his head, often staying at the beach until sunrise before he went home.
As the years wore on, the nightmares remained, but would wane, occasionally not plaguing him for a month or more at a time. But when he moved out, everything changed.
Let me know how you feel about this one!
I've written down several chapters that I will be getting up either tonight or in the next day or two!
Let me know if you've any ideas about this fic, or any ideas for other Lassie-centric fics! I'd love to chat about ideas!