A/N: I wrote this back in August, I believe. I've revised it a bit since then, but it's still fairly short and probably still has typos. I figured it was something to fill the void of inactivity over the past month, though.
Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah! Have some feels!
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, South Park.
Rain pounded against the old house, drowning out bit of the drunken screaming downstairs. God only knows what they were fighting about this time.
A young boy in an orange coat sat huddled in the corner of his room with his younger sister, soothing her. She'd ran to his room as soon as the fight broke out, crying soon after. The boy remained strong despite his inner turmoil, not wanting to seem weak in front of his sister. She'd always seen him as a hero.
They knew the police had been called, but no sirens were heard. The police had stopped dealing with the McCormicks long ago. That, and the local police were idiots.
Footsteps began following the screaming, signaling that the quarreling lovers downstairs were now coming for their children.
"Under the bed," the young boy whispered to his sister.
She nodded, silencing her crying and following his lead.
As predicted, the door was opened angrily.
"Kenny, I know you're in here!" the voice of the boy's father slurred drunkenly. No doubt he was completely wasted.
The boy - Kenny, as he was called - silently cursed himself for not opening the window to make it appear like he'd snuck out.
'Stay here,' he mouthed to his sister before revealing himself. He prayed they wouldn't check for her.
As soon as he was standing, he was grabbed by the orange fabric of his coat and slammed against he wall, the breathed knocked out of him.
His father began yelling at him senselessly with his mother standing fearfully behind him.
His mother already had a black eye forming. Her red hair was even more tangled than usual, showing signs that he'd grabbed her by it.
"Pay attention when I'm talking, boy!" his father shouted, sounding a bit clearer than a moment ago.
"Y-yes, sir," Kenny said, his voice quivering a bit. His cerulean eyes kept the look of defiance, though his voice betrayed him.
A throbbing sensation spread through the boy's cheek and the back of his head. He'd been punched, causing his head to go back at hit the wall.
Where is Kevin when you need him?, he thought, continuing to ignore his father, but still looked at him so he appeared to continue paying attention.
Kevin was his older brother that often fought back more than Kenny and his mother combined. Usually, he was home, but this time he seemed to have disappeared. Either he was waiting for the perfect moment to show himself or he had completely abandoned them this time.
His father had now stopped speaking and began punching him again, keeping him pinned to the wall so he couldn't struggle.
Then, Kevin came in. This would be what he would call a "perfect moment". It made him seem heroic.
Their father was knocked off Kenny, who slid down to the ground, covering his face with his hands as soon as he was released.
It didn't take long for Kevin to finish with their father. Their mother dragged the half conscious man out.
"Kenny, Karen, it's safe."
Karen - the youngest of the siblings who had been hiding - crawled out from under the bed. She gave her two brothers a concerned look, but stayed quiet.
Kevin was knelt down next to Kenny who had begun crying despite not wanting to. He soothed the boy softly.
The only sounds now were Kenny's soft crying and the rain pouring down outside.
After he'd calmed down, Kenny stood and walked to Karen who was sitting quietly on his bed.
"I'm okay," she answered before he had a chance to ask. Concern still showed on her features.
"It could've been worse. I'm okay, too," he assured her, pulling her into a hug.
Kevin walked out silently, hating to deal with the drama that came after the fights.
Oddly enough, this felt normal to all of them. It felt like they were like any other family in their small mountain town, although they new they weren't. They were far from it.
There was no use wishing they were born in a different family, though, so they didn't. They just dealt with it.
They didn't need to speak about it all, so they simply fell asleep with tear stains and dried blood on their faces.