Brotherly Bonds
Chapter 1
To the outside world, the Bartons looked like one big, happy family, they weren't. Harold Barton had two sons and a beautiful wife, along with running his own successful butcher shop, but that still didn't seem to be enough for him. He, for whatever reason, was not happy with his life and so he'd go out and get drunk and then go home and beat on his wife and sons. One day Barney, the older of the two boys, came home from school to find his father yelling at his mother for looking at another man the wrong way. His mother was on the floor, begging for forgiveness, tears streaming down her cheeks as his father continued to beat her, Clint was in the far corner of the room, curled in a ball, clenching his Robin Hood teddy bear, and crying.
Barney, who was a freshmen in high school, sighed. He had just come home from football practice and once again it would be his job to break this up. Barney sighed again and dropped his school stuff and then grabbed his father's shoulder and pulled him back.
"That's enough," Barney said with a frown.
"What, you'd rather I beat on that mistake," his father yelled in a drunken stupor.
"Clint is not a mistake, now go sleep this off, you're drunk and you need to sleep it off," Barney said firmly.
"I won't forget you screwed up my punishment," his father muttered, but Barney just shoved him another step closer to the stairs.
When their father was out of sight, Barney bend down next to Clint and gently touched his shoulder. When Clint flinched, and a small whimper escaped, Barney's heart broke. He sighed and gently turned Clint to face him. "It's alright Clint, dad's gone and it's just me and mom and you." Clint turned and carefully looked around, fear still in his eyes. When dh did a full inspection of the room, he saw that in fact, their father was not there, Clint reached up and wrapped his seven year old little arms around Barney's neck and hugged him, Barney hugged him back and then sighed, "Clint, mom needs help, go get the medical kit, would you?"
Clint looked over at his mother and then scurried off to get the med kit. Barney patched their mother up and then helped her to the couch, figuring it was better for her to sleep down there then up with their father. That night, Clint slept with Barney, too afraid to sleep in his own room, afraid their father would wake up and lash his anger out on him.
The next morning was Saturday, and tensions were high. Clint sat rigidly in a chair reading a western novel, his mother nervously went around dusting, and Barney waited for the unavoidable. When their father did come down, he sneered at his two boys and scowled at his wife.
"Go to the store you worthless woman, and I don't want to see you for the next three hours, IN fact, if I do, you'll wish you never set foot in this house, got it," he thundered and Barney looked up, taking his headphones from his iPod out. He watched his mother hesitate, as if she wanted to say something, but then turned and left.
Harold Barton turned on the boys as soon as he heard his wife start the car and drive off, no doubt in tears. Harold Barton took off his belt and headed for Clint, but Barney jumped up and stopped him.
"No, leave him alone," Barney thundered, putting himself between Clint and their father, his arms stretched out in front of Clint to protect him.
Their father raised an eyebrow, "You gonna take the punishment for that mistake?"
Barney's eyes grew hateful as he nodded slowly, "Yeah, I will."
"Then get your ass moving," his father thundered.
Barney turned to Clint and handed him his IPod, "Clint, this is very important, I need you to take my IPod and listen to it while I'm gone. Listen to that and read your book, promise me?"
"But you'll get hurt," Clint said with worry.
"I'll be fine, just promise me," Barney said quickly.
"Come on boy, it's time for your punishment," their father thundered again.
"Promise me," Barney ordered again and Clint nodded.
"Okay, I promise."
Barney followed his father out with a hateful glare, but he wouldn't change his mind. Taking a few beatings from his father would keep Clint safe so he would gladly do it. Barney followed his father up the stairs and raised a brow when they stopped at his father's bedroom door and walked in.
Harold Barton closed the door behind them, belt still in hand, and turned to his oldest son. "Take off your shirt boy," his father ordered.
Barney raised a brow at this, but not wanting his father to go after his innocent seven year old brother, he complied. Barney had a sickenly bad feeling he knew where this was going, but he tried to push that aside. However, he couldn't ignore the lustful looks his father was giving him, or the fact that he'd been dragged to the bedroom, with the doors shut behind him and his mother gone, or the fact that he'd been ordered to take his shirt off, and possibly more after that. He also couldn't ignore the way his father fingered the rim of his pants and how his father's eyes seemed to roam his exposed body.
"Now take off your pants Barnard, and climb into the bed," his father ordered, licking his lips, and Barney's heart sank. Barney hesitated, eyeing the door and trying to figure out how drunk his father was when his father locked the door. "Did I hesitate," his father asked, taking another drink, "or do I need to go down and get the Mistake and bring him up?"
Barney sighed, he had to protect his little brother, and although he hated it, he slowly reached for his pants and began to undo them, "No sir, you don't have to get him, I can do as you ask." Barney removed his pants and got into the bed and glared at his father with hate as he watched his own father remove his pants and then retrieve something out of the dresser. Barney scowled as his father climbed into bed and he saw what had been removed was a pair of hand cuffs.
His father sat them on the side table with a smile and looked at Barney, "Those are for later. I use them on your mother when she's been bad, but today, they are for my naughty son. Now, lets start with the basic punishment first," his father said taking a long swig of his drink. "You will take my boxers off for me and then explore down there, rubbing my cock. Once you've started that, and relaxed me, I will begin exploring you. After that is when the real fun begins, I get to use my toys, now get started before I change my mind!"
Barney glared at his father, but slowly did as he was told. Barney hated himself, and knew his hand would never feel clean again, but he still made himself to do it. Barney shuddered as he felt his own boxers removed and his father explored "down there," with one hand and the other explored the rest of his body. Slowly his father moved in and began to kiss him, shallow at first, and then they got deeper and his father's tongue explored his own, and he felt as though he felt as though he could be sick.
An hour passed, and his father's hands finally stopped. Barney foolishly thought it was over until he saw his father open his fourth bottle and grabbed the cuffs. Barney was hands were cuffed to his father's bed so that there was no escape as his father roughly pulled his bare legs open.
"There will be no lube for you, naughty boys don't get lube," his father said in a dark tone. Another hour passed as his father finished his third taking.
Barney had cried out in pain, he couldn't help it, this was an all new pain, far worse then any beating his father had given him. After the third taking, his father pulled out roughly and then freed him of the cuffs. Barney's legs were covered with blood and his father's "love juice," as he'd called it, but apparently his father wasn't done. Harold Barton shoved his oldest son to his knees in front of him and then opened his les wider.
"Clean me up boy, and make it slow so I can enjoy it," and then he finished off his fifth bottle.
Once it was all done, Barney felt sick, but he hadn't been allowed to clean himself up. "Get dressed, you can wear my love juice on you the rest of the day. And remember boy, if you say anything, or you fight me next time I chose to punish you, then I'll grab that mistake downstairs and punish him instead!"
"You leave Clint alone," Barney thundered.
"Then you'll do as I say boy, understand," his father thundered and Barney sighed but nodded. "That means you'll tell no one of this, understand!" Again Barney nodded and his father smiled. "That means you'll tell no one of this, understood!" Again Barney nodded and his father smiled. "Good, now turn back to me so I can punish you," his father said grabbing his deposited belt.
"Then what the HELL were those last two hours," Barney thundered.
"That was punishment as well, but that mistake down stairs, and that worthless woman will want to check you for markings from your punishment, so turn," his father ordered and with a sigh, Barney complied. Harold Barton lashed out and hit his eldest son twenty times on his bare back and not once did Barney cry out. When it was over, Barney put his shirt back on with a wince and walked down the stairs to a terrified Clint. It took Barney a little time to reassure Clint that he was fine before their mother came in and checked him over.
A month passed and nothing changed. Harold Barton continued to drink, and his family continued to pay the price. After his third time of "punishment," Barney was rewarded with a gift from his father, a set of black thongs, to be worn at all times. Barney hated his father more and more with each passing day, but he always reminded himself with each passing day that what he did, he did to protect his little brother Clint. There were still times his father got drunk and just felt like beating on Clint, but it was far less now then it had been.
After two months, Harold Barton sent his wife Edith, and his "mistake" son Clint away on a camping trip, telling them he'd stay and he and Barney could run the shop, and that way Barney could go to his football games. Edith Barton wasn't stupid, she knew something was up with her oldest son, she had noticed the mood changes, but Barney wouldn't talk about it, and her husband didn't give her a choice on the trip, he made her and Clint go.
That weekend Barney was allowed to go to his game, but every day after that he "belonged" to his father and rarely was he allowed to leave the bed; his father was drunker than normal, and if Barney wanted anything, he had to work for it. Whenever it was time for him to wash himself off, he was only allowed to do so while showering with his father, which made school gym showers seem so much better. The weekend never seemed so slow to Barney, but finally Sunday came and he was relieved.
His father had passed out an hour ago after doing him both in the front and back, and the only reason he wasn't stuck under his drunken father this time was because he had been given him an "oral" job before he'd passed out. Barney knew his mother and brother would be home soon, so he opted for a shower to wash his father off him.
He turned the water to scolding hot, so he could burn the filth off him, though it never seemed to work, he always felt dirty nowadays, but there was nothing he could do about that. He was just about to get in the shower when a strong hand gripped his shoulder and held him back.
"What do you think you are doing boy," his father thundered.
Barney pulled free of his father, "I'm showering so mom and Clint won't find out about your little "punishment" for me this weekend."
"Then I'll shower with you," his father said simply.
"No you won't," Barney replied patiently, pushing him back. "Mom and Clint will be home any minute, and what will they think of you being in the shower with me," Barney said pushing his father closer to the bathroom door.
His father growled in anger, but before he could say anything, they heard a voice call from downstairs. "Um Harold, dear, dear, we're um, home." Barney could hear the hesitation in her voice and felt bad for her. He could tell she was afraid, and he didn't blame her.
His father let out another frustrated snarl and then left. He went to his room and dressed then met his wife in the hall. "Come on Edith, we have that party to go to!"
She looked at him but knew better then to argue. "Maybe I should drive dear," She said with apprehension.
"NO! I'm the man of this house and I'll drive," he thundered and then they took off.
Barney took about an hour long shower in the scolder hot water before getting out and dressing. When he came downstairs Clint, who was now eight, sat in the corner of the room quietly, holding his Robin Hood teddy bear. Barney sighed and was going to go to him when there was a knock at the door. The fear in Clint's eyes grew and Barney sighed.
"It's okay kid, I'll get it," Barney said and then ruffled his brother's hair, when seemed to relax at that, before answering the door. There standing at the door were two officers, and looked past them, outside, Barney could see it raining.
"Can I help you officers," he asked politely, he didn't have the foggiest idea why they were there, though he secretly wished they were there to arrest his father.
"Are you a," the first man paused and looked down at his clipboard, "Charles Bernard Barton?"
"It's Barney, and yes, I am. How can I help you? I haven't done anything wrong, have I," he asked calmly.
"And is there a," He paused again, looking down at his notes and back up, "Clinton Francis Barton here?"
"Yeah, he's my little brother and he's inside. What's this all about officers," Barney asked with a frown.
"Well, it's about your parents son, we found your father driving drunk, and he had an accident, I'm afraid he didn't make it," the second officer responded.
"Good, I hope he burns in hell," Barney muttered. "Was there anything else?"
"Yes, um, we found your mother with him, she, uh, died on impact, the second officer added slowly.
Barney cursed under his breath and looked over his shoulder, how was he going to tell Clint? Before he could process that thought, the first officer continued. "We couldn't find any next of kin, so…"
Barney looked up, "There isn't any."
"That's what we thought, we have a social worker outside, she is going to ask you a few questions and then she'll be taking you to the state home until a faster home can be found or a family comes to adopt you," the officer continued.
The next few hours went by in a flurry. The social worker came in and asked questions, Barney spent his time calming Clint, they had to pack all their things, and then the social worker dropped them off at the state home. Barney and Clint shared a room, both having their own beds, but that first night Clint fell asleep in Barney's arms, crying himself to sleep. Only when he knew they were alone, and that Clint was asleep, did he allow himself to weep for the loss of their mother.