Wow! Thanks for the overwhelmingly positive feedback! You guys are great! Bare with me if there are typos in this one... it's six in the morning and I haven't slept yet.
Anyway, an amazing author on this site, 'thatwritermadeofpotatoes' has become my beta reader, I would recommend you read all of her hamilton fics! The lams is UNREAL! Sorry by the way Kinzy, I send you so much work to edit, It's a wonder you get back to me so quickly with it done so well! Xx
Trigger warnings: talk about last abuse, minor talk about bullying, panic attack, talk about suicide attempt.
This chapter recounts a character's memory of their attempted suicide, it's quite dark but not graphic. Suicide hotline numbers are in my profile. Stay safe, Love you guys!
Martha watched the three boys in the living room from the door way, everything seemed tranquil and normal as though the bruises on Alex's face were now invisible, or they could just ignore how he flinched when anyone moved too near him. But she couldn't; she couldn't get Alex out of her mind.
Martha left the doorway and walked back upstairs. George was lying in bed with a book, already in pyjamas.
"They're watching TV now. Like nothing happened."
George set down the book and sat up a little. He rubbed his head thoughtfully. Martha spoke again.
"Do you believe Alex?"
George didn't have to consider this, he shook his head immediately.
"No, I don't. But I can't see why he would lie."
Martha pulled on a pyjama shirt and rummaged through her drawer for a hair wrap.
"Charles Lee and George Frederick must have, I don't know, threatened him?"
George nodded, "What do you suppose we do? We know for sure that he insulted Gil, hurt Alex's rib in class. Do we go to the school?"
Martha sighed.
"I think going to the school would defeat the purpose of Alex lying. He's obviously not saying what happened because the boys told him not to tell, threatened him with something. If we go to the school then the boys will get in trouble anyway, so Alex telling the truth would make little difference in the end."
George nodded slowly, "But, we should take this supposed threat against Alex seriously. What if the boys assume they're in trouble because Alex told?"
Martha sat down onto the bed, "But they already beat Alex up without reason, it doesn't seem like they need a motive to hurt him."
George and Martha slid under the bed covers and the former flicked off the light.
In the dark, George heard Martha's voice break slightly.
"George, what do we do?"
He moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her close.
"I think we should talk again to Gil and Alex about it. There's no point stressing now, Martha, it's late."
He kissed her cheek and they settled into silence, neither of them asleep but neither willing to talk more about the matter.
George spoke again, his voice sleepy but caring.
"I love you, Martha."
She smiled in the dark, George could feel it. In his mind he could see the way her eyes crinkled and how her lips curled upwards like flower petals.
"I love you, too."
Alex awoke the next morning in pain, but simultaneously too comfortable to move.
His rib was throbbing painfully and the bruising was sore and tender. He could feel his lip more swollen and stinging than ever.
Yet, John's hand fit so perfectly in his own, his breathing was a soft breeze in Alex's ear and it made the pain of his current position worth it. He could shift, sit up straighter, it would hurt less. But his head was resting against John's chest and he could feel curly stands of his hair tickling the back of his neck.
No, this was better.
Alex stayed like this for a little while, not daring to turn his head lest he disturb John.
Eventually, the sunlight had crept into the room like the tide and was lapping its golden head against the end of the sofa. They had school today, they had to get up.
Alex smiled slightly as John's eyes twitched slightly and he lifted his hand up to rub his face and yawn. He looked almost cat like, dark, gold-flecked eyes and tousled curls.
"John?"
The boy groaned softly and stirred again, his eyelids fluttering with tiny movements like butterfly wings.
"Mornin'..." he sighed, his southern accent more pronounced. Whether this was for show or due to the early hour, Alex didn't know.
He smiled slightly and twisted one of John's curls around his finger.
"Morning John."
Beside them, Lafayette was moving too, groaning as his face met the harsh morning sun.
He opened his eyes , Alex let go of John's hair quickly.
"Bonjour mes amis..." he rolled onto his stomach and off the sofa completely, collapsing onto the rug, lying there for a moment, exhausted.
"Laf," John was grinning now, "you can't roll off the sofa and on to the floor just to fall asleep."
Alex smiled a little. "We have school soon, Its nearly eight."
Lafayette stood up and turned to Alex. "Are you going in today?"
John turned to face Alex now, looking curiously at him. Alex fiddled with the blankets, not liking the sudden attention.
"I- I thought I was going in... I am, aren't I?"
Lafayette shook his head, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Alex, your rib seems pretty painful and Lee and George are gonna act like assholes"
John nodded. "Martha and George will want you to stay home."
Alex didn't know what was worse. The idea that he would miss school for something so insignificant as a broken rib; or the fact that Martha or George might have to take more time off work to stay at home with him.
Alex internally groaned, letting out a deep sigh. Might as well see what his foster parents think, before deciding on his own. He glanced at Laf, and caught his friend's eyes. Alex nodded, eliciting a smile from John and Laf, who reached over and gently squeezed his new brother's hand. They stood for a quiet moment, before splitting up to grab their stuff and get ready.
They said nothing as they grabbed clothes from their respective rooms, changing and brushing their teeth in silence.
They made themselves breakfast, slotting bread into the toaster and pouring out some coffee.
Martha came down just as they were washing their plates clean of crumbs. She was fully dressed in her usual blouse and slacks and looked quite tired, like she hadn't slept much.
Alex felt his stomach twist guiltily. She had been awake the entire night worrying about how much trouble he had caused; how long they would be able to keep him, how she was crazy for thinking she could handle some messed up orphan. How she'd tell him that they'd had enough, that they're getting rid of him.
"Alex, dear, you're not planning on going in today, are you?"
He shrugged, "I'm fine with going into school if you want me to."
Martha shook her head quickly, the corners of her mouth tipping into an endearing smile.
"No, George and I thought you could stay home with me until lunch, then I can go into work and you stay here alone until Gil gets home."
Alex nodded quickly, not wanting to cause any trouble by disagreeing.
"So you're fine with staying home alone from lunch until around four?"
Lafayette laughed, "Maman, Alex ira bien! He is nearly sixteen!"
Martha smiled, "of course, I'm sure Alex will be alright."
Alex sat at the table next to Martha as she ate breakfast, reading the paper. The election to Senate would be soon and the newspaper had run an article about potential nominees. A slight smile dawned his face when he spotted a name he recognised; George Washington.
He nudged Martha gently and showed her the section.
Among the potential democratic nominees for the 2018 Senate election is Mr. George Washington, one of the youngest favourites to win in the coming race for Senate. Washington is described as a liberal and progressive politician, indeed, and if elected, he will be the first ever African American senator for the state of Virginia. Washington is known for his efforts in the campaign to elect democratic senator of Virginia Tim Kaine, as well as his passionate work in campaigns for young people and teen organizations in Virginia.
The article went on to describe George's views on different political issues, each one lining up closely with Alex's. Martha was scanning the article excitedly and after a few minutes of reading and re-reading, she jumped out of her chair and raced upstairs to where George was presumably still getting ready.
Alex sat awkwardly at the table before deciding to go back upstairs and say goodbye to Lafayette and John.
He moved up the stairs slowly, holding his rib tightly to make sure the injury didn't worsen.
Laf and John were just grabbing their bags when Alex entered.
"Hey!" He grinned, flashing a shy smile at John.
"Mon ami, I hope you will be okay here alone. I could always convince maman to let me stay home."
Alex shook his head, he knew Lafayette would want to be with John and Hercules as school, he was just asking for politeness' sake. He didn't actually want to spend a whole day with Alex.
"No, no. Go into school, I have an English essay to write anyway. Don't worry about me."
Lafayette shrugged and picked up his rucksack. John did the same and patted Alex on the shoulder.
"I'll call the house phone at twelve thirty, yeah? We can chat."
Alex smiled at the though of chatting with John later, trying not to think of the inevitable anxiety the call would cause.
Alex nodded, not missing the subtle expression of knowing on Lafayette's face. He blushed slightly and ushered them downstairs.
He waved them goodbye as they walked down the road to school, watching the way the light turned the fine strands of John's hair a stark gold and how even in the early morning, his gait was eager and energetic.
The morning passed relatively quickly for Alex. George had seemed very pleased with the article and had taken it to work with him, obviously to show it to colleges and brainstorm more about the coming election.
After George had left, and despite Martha's insistence he rest, Alex helped to clean up after breakfast in the kitchen and hoover the living room.
At around ten he decided to start on his essay and left Martha in the living room, reading.
He pulled out his English book and the copy of 'The Kite Runner', read over the assignment again and looked over his notes on the first chapter.
The next few hours passed slowly to Alex as he scribbled a brief draft of the essay and started to set out writing the actual thing. By the time he had finished it was just past twelve o'clock and he'd written about four pages, filling up both sides. He knew it had to be over three thousand words and he was pretty sure he'd met that comfortably.
He was tidying away his pens and English book when he heard Martha walk across the landing and knock on his door.
"You can come in." He called, still not used to foster parents having so much respect for his privacy and space.
She opened the door and smiled.
"Are you writing that English essay?"
"I just finished it, yeah."
He saw her eyes scan over the book and papers littering his desk.
"Oh, is it on The Kite Runner?"
He nodded and she grinned. "I read it when it came out. You'll have to let me read the essay some time. Anyway, I've made some lunch for us before I leave to go back into work."
He gulped at the thought of sitting alone with Martha or anyone really, to eat. Having to make small talk, having to not choke or throw up on the spot.
He walked down behind Martha and entered the kitchen, feeling bad he hadn't thought to offer any help.
She'd made a simple lunch, a bowl of vegetable soup with a bread roll each, but he couldn't have felt more grateful.
He sat down and waited for Martha to start eating before he picked up his spoon. This was a habit he'd picked up years ago that he knew the Washington family had noticed, but decided not to mention.
She was a few spoonfuls into hers when he decided to start, tearing of a small piece of bread and dipping it into the soup.
As usual, Martha's cooking was delicious. He had a habit of eating his food extremely quickly, a souvenir from his rather eclectic upbringing, but in this house he'd started to learn to eat slower. The fear of his food being taken was still real but he'd learnt to not let it affect him.
Martha talked with him for a while about her job she worked in the district attorney office for Virginia and George's coming election.
He found this very interesting and rather than enter into the conversation, decided to let her talk and he listen.
He was half way through his soup when he sensed his stomach was full. He'd had coffee, toast and now soup and bread today. It was more than his stomach was used to.
Not wanting to appear impolite, especially as Martha had given him a smaller portion than herself because of his usually insubstantial appetite, he continued eating. He had gotten about two thirds of the way into the bread roll but had more than half of the soup left to eat.
This was not good. He didn't want to offend Martha but he didn't want to have to run upstairs afterwards to get sick.
He looked down at his plate and continued to eat. His stomach didn't immediately empty its self so he continued to nod and at least look like he was listening to Martha.
She was already finished and got up to wash her bowl, leaving Alex alone at the table. He had nearly finished the soup now and had eaten the last of the roll. His stomach was way too full now, he knew he was going to get sick.
He could feel bile burning his throat and waves of nausea rolling in his stomach.
He stood up hastily and brought the bowl over to the sink. He tipped the last of the soup down the drain, making sure Martha didn't see and rinsed his bowl.
He had to get to the bathroom, he had to, he had to. Now!
He put his cutlery and bowl back in the cupboard, wincing when they crashed into each other noisily and said a hasty 'thanks' to Martha before practically sprinting upstairs as fast as he could with a broken rib.
He stumbled into his bedroom and locked the door, running into the bathroom and collapsing in front of the toilet just in time before he got sick, his breakfast and lunch gone, leaving his stomach empty.
It was just his luck that as he was getting sick, he heard the house phone in the hall outside his room ring. He coughed and gagged for a moment before flushing the toilet and racing back out of the bathroom, his rib in agony from the gasping breaths he had taken in.
He picked up the phone just before it stopped ringing and answered in as normal a voice as he could muster, which still sounded pained and out of breath.
"Hey! Alex! It's John, just calling to check in."
He could taste the horrible flavour of vomit and phlegm in his mouth and his rib was stopping him from taking deep enough breaths.
"I-I'm fine, you?"
He hated talking on the phone, it always made him choke up and hyperventilate.
"Alex, are you okay? You sound a bit... odd?"
He tried to take in deep breaths but just hurt his rib more. He was starting to hear ringing in his ears and the world seemed too bright against his eyes. He squeezed them shut.
"No, I'm fine. Sorry."
He almost tuned everything out then, it was as though everything around him was carrying on a usual but he was removed from it, so far away from anything he was just a tiny dot.
John seemed to notice something was up and was asking calmly what was wrong.
He managed to choke something out, through shallow breaths and ringing ears.
"I-I'm not great with t-talking on the phone John."
There was that stutter again.
God, can you do anything right? You can't even talk to someone without that stupid stutter.
"Do you want me to go?"
Alex didn't know. He wanted to be with John but he didn't want this panic attack to get any worse than it was now - God forbid he pass out.
The room was still spinning and he realized he hadn't spoke for at least a minute; John could probably just hear him on the other end panicking and breathing like he'd just run a marathon.
He could hear someone coming up the stairs - Martha. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist harder.
He could hear John on the other end of the phone repeatedly saying his name and he was aware Martha was in front of him now, asking who was on the phone, what was wrong?
Martha took the phone from his hand and spoke to John.
"Is this Gilbert?"
Alex leant against the wall, trying to breathe.
"No. It's John, I think Alex is having a panic attack."
Martha looked at Alex and spoke again.
"We'll call back soon."
She hung up and immediately turned to Alex, who was at this point worried he might faint.
He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, head in his knees.
She crouched next to him and took his hand carefully.
"George counts your breaths when this happens, doesn't he?"
Alex nodded, still unable to slowly nodded, still unable to talk.
She nodded and started to count, not phased when he didn't count with her at first.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One, two, three..."
He joined in then, shakily at first but getting clearer and steadier after a few sets of tens.
Eventually, Alex looked up and made eye contact with Martha.
"Are you alright, Alex?"
He nodded his head and stood up, resting against the wall but feeling much better.
"Yeah, I'm just not amazing at talking on the phone."
Martha nodded. "I understand, that's perfectly alright. I'll call John back soon and tell him you're okay now."
He nodded gratefully and she frowned a little.
"Did you take your Iron and Prozac today?"
He shook his head and she nodded. "Okay, grab them from your room and come take them in the kitchen. I have Ibuprofen, too, for your rib."
Alex turned back into his room and before grabbing his pills, he grabbed some Listerine and swished a cap full around his mouth for a minute, the taste in his mouth not completely gone.
He spat into the sink and went back downstairs with his pills. There was a glass of water and an Ibuprofen tablet on the table. Alex popped one iron and one Prozac out of the pack and took the three pills in his hand, taking them all at once with a gulp of water.
He shuddered, God, he hated taking pills.
He could hear Martha on the phone in the living room.
"Yeah... he's fine, he had a panic attack."
Silence on Martha's end.
"Uh huh, yeah, I did."
"No, he forgot. He's taking them now. Yeah, I'm going into work soon, fifteen minutes. Bye."
He heard the phone beep as it was hung up and Martha walked back into the kitchen.
He drained the last of the water and smiled.
"I took them, thanks for everything."
She smiled again. "It's nothing, Alex. I'm going to work now, I just called John and told him you were okay."
He nodded and cleaned his glass out at the sink.
"Are you sure you'll be okay alone?"
Alex nodded. "No, go in, I wouldn't want you to miss anything important. I'll be fine."
Martha smiled.
"I'll get my bag. Gil will be home around four, George any time from five till six and me from half five onwards. My number is written on a Post-it on the fridge, just call it if you need me, okay?"
Alex nodded again and picked up the small boxes of pills from the kitchen table.
He followed Martha upstairs and went into his room to put them away again.
He heard her walking back downstairs with her bag this time and just before she left she called a quick goodbye up to him.
"Bye, Alex!"
"Goodbye, Martha!"
He heard the door shut and an engine start before he heard the sound of Martha's car driving further and further down the road.
He was alone.
Alex walked back downstairs, his rib hurting less now due to the painkiller.
He lay on the sofa and switched on Netflix, spending at least an hour watching TV shows.
It was strange being alone in such a huge house, hell, there were rooms here Alex hadn't even been into yet.
He went back up to his room after a while and picked up his notebook. He tried to think of something to write about.
He grabbed his pen from his school bag and chewed on the end for a moment before deciding on writing another entry to the journal he kept sporadically.
Having a few days at home rather than in school would seem like a blessing for some people, but for me, well, I only get bored. I had another panic attack today, I wish I could control them, it's horrible. I know the Washingtons hate them. They probably wish they'd fostered someone less messed up, I'm counting the days now to see how long I'll last here. I wonder if I can beat seven months. Probably not.
He always felt kind of foolish and childish after writing in his journal, but then again, it had pretty much kept him alive when he lived in the boys home, and with the Johnsons, the Harveys... with Pace even, and now he was here. To be honest, seven months ago he wouldn't have thought he'd make it this far.
He could remember that day well. He had been thirteen, living in a group home.
He couldn't block out the memories as they poured into his mind, flooding his thoughts like insects.
They were were clutched in his hand, a mixture of sleeping meds and fluoxetine. His hand trembled when he reached for the glass of water next to his bed.
The pills were shards of glass down his throat, no matter how much water he gulped down. Alex leant his head against the side of his bed. It was one in the morning, no one would come in for another eight hours or so, by then, well... He hoped it would be too late.
He was starting to become more familiar with his eyelids, his vision of hazy like he was looking through heat waves.
Dancing lights and spirals hung in his vision, he was starting to get at headache. He could feel himself slipping out of consciousness.
A person was next to him suddenly. The sky was a lilac dawn outside, hang on… He could have sworn it had just been one. Someone was yelling, hands under his arms, lifting him.
He was being dragged to the bathroom and someone's fingers were down his throat. There was the sound of running footsteps in the background. He gagged and coughed, throwing up into the toilet. Trying to fight off whoever was making him sick. He didn't want to throw up, he couldn't.
He was being lifted onto someone's back and pulled downstairs. Why were they going into Mrs. Newson's room?
There was darkness, ringing and yelling in his ears. Red and blue lights screaming, the back of an ambulance.
Then, just white. Limbo, cold bathroom tile, winter sky white. The kind of white that seems choking and cold all at once.
Alex was on his feet now, not remembering standing up. He crashed his hand across the table and sent the boxes of pills flying onto the carpet.
He tensed up and sat back down, putting his face in his hands as dry sobs racked his body pain fully.
He was glad he was alone.
He had sworn he would forget that day and he'd almost convinced himself he had. Until days like this. Until Pace had found out, until he had started to tell him he shouldn't have lived that day. Eventually he started to tell himself that too.
He wished he didn't have to take these pills, every time he saw them he felt sick, like he might vomit. He considered pretending to lose them, or just admitting they weren't very helpful.
But how could he? Martha and George were paying for his meds in an effort to help him. He couldn't just tell them they'd been wasting their money.
He sat on his bed for a long time. Too tired to move but simultaneously wanting to do something, anything!
It was half past three when he decided to go downstairs for some water, something to take his mind off that.
Lafayette would be home soon, school would have just ended. He wondered if Lee and George had done anything. He didn't think they would have, John didn't mention anything when he was on the phone with him or Martha, and Lafayette knew how to stay out of trouble. Unlike Alex.
He drained his glass and washed his face. His eyes were a little red, although he hadn't been crying, but he was tired. He thought the water might wake him up a bit.
At was around ten to four when he heard the door open and the greeting of several voices in the hallway.
"Ah yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it?" He heard Hercules hell, "showtime!" Two other voices chourused, that was John and Laf.
He grinned to himself and walked into the hallway, raising his hand in greeting.
"Alex!" Lafayette grinned and high fived his friend.
"Hey Alex!" Hercules was taking his injuries in with a piercing but non-judgemental eye.
He grinned and turned to John, who was smiling, relieved to see Alex okay.
The four of them went up to Lafayette's room and collapsed into more comfortable positions.
Alex lay on a beanbag next to John, their sides and knees touching, whereas Lafayette and Hercules were sprawled out across the bed.
Alex asked the question that he'd been dying to know the answer to for hours.
"Lee or George give you any trouble today?"
Laf gave Hercules and John a bitter look.
"What? What is it, are you okay?" Alex flicked his to each boy in concern.
"He didn't hurt any of us," John started, "they just acted like an ass all day. Stupid stuff, Lee cringed away when Laf or Herc went near him. George was yelling over my points in class and they both tried to trip us up in turn in the corridor."
Alex gritted his teeth. He was glad none of them were hurt and he knew his friends were tough, but it still angered him to know someone could be so malicious.
"More importantly though," said Hercules, keen to talk about something else.
"How are you? I only found out about everything at lunch when I couldn't find you guys."
Alex frowned a little, thinking of the concern he must have caused Herc.
"I'm fine, I'm taking ibuprofen and stuff, plus, I can rest up for a while."
John's arms were leant out behind him to support himself and his right hand was rested behind Alex, brushing his back. Alex leaned into the touch and smiled at John quickly.
"So, what did you do all day?" Laf was playing a game on his phone.
Alex shrugged.
Had two panic attacks, remembered the time I tried to kill myself, watched TV, you?
"Not much, wrote an English essay, watched TV."
Hercules grinned, "nice, I had maths. Christ."
Alex laughed and Laf turned off his phone.
"I'm gonna make tea and coffee, Herc, come help."
Herc stood up and Alex opened his mouth.
"I know, coffee; black avec un peu sucre. John is tea with milk and no sugar."
Alex grinned and John sighed, "you know us too well."
The two boys left the room and John faced Alex.
He took his hand in his and looked at Alex in concern.
"Hey, I didn't want to ask in front of the other guys, but are you okay? You worried me on the phone earlier."
Alex smiled and rested his head on John's shoulder.
"I'm fine, talking on the phone just makes me choke. I'm not very good at it."
John smiled and squeezed Alex's hand. They embraced for a moment and John whispered in Alex's ear,
"Everything's gonna be okay."
Okay, that was kind of a filler chapter, don't worry, things get interesting when he gets back to school, soon!