Author's Note: this chapter turned out longer than it was supposed to be but oh well
Disclaimer: The Long Walk is not mine.
Barkovitch decided that he ought to follow Stebbins.
Not that he was worried about the freak. He was just curious. Yeah, that was right, just curious as to why the fuck there was a tan Jeep in front of Stebbins' beat-up house. He positioned himself by one of the semi-broken windows and hoped that he got some sort of show.
As Stebbins burst inside, he panted slightly and tried his best to look as though it was any other day and he'd just gotten home from school. "Mother?"
"Dirk." A voice he knew all too well. No, no no. Not now. He was doing well, as well as a boy like him could do in life, it seemed.
"F-father." A stutter rose in his throat, and somehow he wasn't able to stop it. Maybe it was that goddamn word. Father. It didn't sound right. "W-where's Mother?"
"In the kitchen."
Stebbins' father was a tall man in army uniform, mirrored sunglasses shading his eyes. His skin was tanned from whatever it was he did in the army. But whatever it was he did, it made him famous. Made him feared.
Stebbins didn't even know his name. And he didn't think he wanted to. He would much rather that his father stay out of his life.
"Oh. Well..." Stebbins was about to make an excuse but it caught on his fear before he could get it out of his mouth. He started to move towards the door, maybe he could just leave and no one would care?
"Dirk. You are staying right here." His father had a certain commandeering quality to his voice and that sent shivers down Stebbins' spine.
"W-why are you here?"
"Don't question me, Dirk."
Just then, his mother came out of the kitchen. She was forcing a smile. "Dirk, I thought you were staying over at your friend's..."
"He doesn't have friends," his father said gruffly. As rude as that was, it was true.
"He does. Right, Dirk?"
"No, I don't. The Major is right." He thought it appropriate to use his father's army title. Suited him.
From the window, Barkovitch could see the silhouettes of Stebbins and his family. His father looked like a mean guy, and his mother a delicate little flower. And then there was Stebbins, lanky and slightly underweight, caught between his two parents.
The father said something that upset the mother, and she began yelling an accusation. Stebbins didn't attempt to stop anything.
"You've isolated him! Look at how he is now!" Stebbins' mother's brown eyes were blown wide with protective anger.
"No, he's isolated himself. Tell me, Dirk, what do you enjoy doing?"
Stebbins considered lying, he was a master at lying, but his mother would hate him forever. After all, to thine own self be true. "I enjoy reading and being left alone." His tone remained a reserved, emotionless one. The voice of a debater staying neutral, just to win that round.
"See, his isolation is completely his own fault. I wanted a son, not this bony streak of nothing."
Stebbins stifled a laugh. That was a rather interesting description. He supposed that it was accurate, though. He was skinny and fairly worthless, so...
"That 'bony streak of nothing' is your son!"
"One of many."
"Why are you even here?!" Stebbins had a strong urge to tell his mother to shut up and let his father finish and then he'd be gone soon enough. Just wait it out.
"I visit my children." The Major's voice was as lacking of emotion as Stebbins' had been. Maybe that was where he got it from. He hated to think that he'd inherited anything from this man.
"May I go upstairs, if you're simply going to argue?"
"What do you need to add to that?" The Major glared down at him and Stebbins remembered how he liked to be referred to.
"May I go upstairs, sir?" Stebbins said meekly. He let a slight tremor go through him, to give the appearance that he was afraid and probably should leave. And it wasn't a complete lie. He was afraid. But he certainly wouldn't be so obvious about it.
"Fine." Stebbins scampered up the stairs, eager to get away from his bickering parents. He passed the bathroom, and this time he didn't resist the urge it gave him. What was a little blood loss, anyways? His parents wouldn't care.
Rolling up his sleeves had been difficult at first. It'd been hard to look at the marred, slightly bruised wrists and the pale skin, but it'd gotten easier to see. It was his skin. Yes, it was scarred and bruised, but it was his skin and it probably wasn't going to get any better.
He stayed small, just making a small cut. The skin around it became puffy and it didn't bleed too much, but somehow it was comforting to know that he could bleed. He was human. Just like everyone else. He didn't see how everyone else didn't seem to realize that.
His skin seemed to be begging for more, but he put the razor back and shoved the sleeves of his sweater down. He would stop sometime, right? Maybe when things all got better, he'd stop.
The skin stung where he'd cut, but it would go away after awhile. He made his way into his room and sat down on the window seat, looking out at the mostly silent, slowly darkening town. He loved dusk, when the sky looked like someone had been dusting and grey mixed with a somewhat sickly orange.
From down below, Barkovitch decided that it was time to get home and started around the back of the house.
His eyes scanned the windows of the decrepit house, and he noticed what might have been the pale shape of Stebbins sitting near one of the windows. He didn't appear to see the boy below, and then Barkovitch did something really dumb.
He grabbed a pebble from the ground and threw it at Stebbins' window.
Stebbins opened the window. From what Barkovitch could see, he looked even more rag doll-like and Barkovitch couldn't help but thinking that he looked like the perfect occupant for the house. He was just like the house.
"Barkovitch?" Stebbins hissed, leaning out of the open window.
"Uh, hey."
"What are you doing here?" Stebbins couldn't think of something cryptic to say, and that deeply frustrated him. He wanted to scare Barkovitch away, he didn't need the dark-haired, swearing boy to complicate things even further.
"No fucking idea. I was just going home."
Stebbins tried to judge the distance from the window to the ground. His house wasn't that high, was it? He slowly put one foot out of the window and felt the lack of ground beneath it. That was an interesting feeling to have beneath one's feet. Knowing that there's absolutely nothing below.
Then Stebbins pulled another foot over, thankful that there was no screen on his window, and slid off.
He landed in a heap on the grass, his arm burning and his legs probably bruised. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
Stebbins said through gritted teeth, "I wanted to be able to converse easier." He pulled himself up, wincing. "How long have you been here?"
"Your dad is an asshole."
"I am aware of that." It suddenly hit Stebbins that that meant Barkovitch had seen their whole conversation. He wasn't sure what to think about that, it could go one of two ways.
"Like, a really fucking big asshole."
"I know." Stebbins then realized that he would have to go back around the house to get back inside. "Shit."
"What?"
"It appears that I will have to go around the house to get back in."
Barkovitch looked around, as though wondering whether anyone was watching. He almost felt bad for Stebbins, that is, if he was capable of feeling bad for anybody. "Hey, uh, Stebbins?"
"Yeah?"
"If things get really bad at your place, you can come stay the night at mine or something." He immediately regretted saying that. It sounded like something out of a bad movie.
"May I do so tonight?" Stebbins said it so politely that it seemed like he was asking Barkovitch to dance or something of the like.
"Sure, whatever the fuck you want." Barkovitch then started walking away, trying to hide his embarrassed expression. Stebbins followed, walking in that strange way that Barkovitch had noticed earlier, where he seemed afraid to step on some small animal.
Stebbins started regretting his decision after taking the first step away from his house, but somehow he went on with it anyways.
.
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the next chapter will be filled with shippy goodness i promise.