Hi. So, work at uni has suddenly just arrived and smacked me in the face from nowhere. Sorry it's taking a while to update and I kind of hope you guys will stick with me, there's still a couple of loose ends to tie up ….
I get the feeling it's starting to drag a bit now, but as I've written the ending already, I really want to get their now!
Hope a few of you at least will stick with me to the end as I have a horrible feeling this could be the last fic for a while. =(
I.B…xx
Morning in 'Sister Debbie's Home for Strays' was always a loud, noisy, bustling affair. It usually involved too much food and picking up the wrong bags and not having what they needed for school and worrying how everyone was going to get to the place they needed to on time but this morning, it was worse than normal. The Taylor's late-night arrival had caused Debbie to be nervously working out a plan of action this morning. She had five breakfasts laid out ready, she'd already eaten. She'd worked out that she could take the bus into work as usual, that the boys could catch the school bus but she had no idea how she was going to get Molly in.
"Mom said she could swing by and pick her up on the way to work," Justin said, crunching the mouthfuls of cereal in his mouth as he reached for his fourth piece of toast. Brian just stared at the boy, wondering exactly where he put all this food.
"Or Ted could probably take her in his car," Michael suggested.
"She could walk," Brian mumbled, only half-joking, after all, the school was less than a mile away, it would only take her ten minutes.
"Brian!" Debbie scolded, throwing the lid of an orange carton at him.
"I had to walk a lot further when I was her age," he shrugged, before eating a minuscule amount of cereal.
"Hey look!" Michael beamed, suddenly pulling a figurine from the cereal box, a small green, crudely made plastic superhero. "Captain Astro," he grinned.
"Captain 'Piece of Shit' more like," Brian scowled, taking the plastic figure and studying it more closely. "Christ, the shit they make in Thailand. If it wasn't for their food, I'd wonder what the point of the country actually was."
"Brian," Justin frowned, shaking his head as Michael snatched his toy back."What's 'shit'?" Molly asked, from her place at the table and Brian smirked to himself.
"It's a naughty word," Debbie informed the little girl quickly, "Brian's very naughty for saying it."
"When I'm naughty my daddy sends me to my room." Molly said, eyeing Brian warily.
"Well, when I'm naughty, my daddy beats the shit out of me," Brian smiled sweetly back at her.
"Okay, that's enough," Debbie shouted in the tallest boys direction. "Go and find something to do somewhere else, please Brian. I know you're worried about going to school today but that doesn't mean you can be horrible to Molly."
"I'm not being horrible," he stated firmly, "I'm just letting her in on a few home truths."
"It is true," Molly nodded, breaking off some toast before putting both pieces back on her plate.
"See," Brian smirked, "the kid knows."
"Daddy does what to hurt Brian," Molly continued. "That's why they were rowing because you stole dad's new car money."
"His new car money?" Brian frowned and then it dawned on him. His hospital bills, Craig Taylor must have found out his wife and been footing the bill and was pissed. That's why they'd rowed. That's why the two youngest Taylor's had sought refuge at Deb's, that was why Justin's parents were thinking of getting a divorce. It was all him. All his fault … yet again, he was to blame for everything.
"Shit," he whispered and with that, he turned around and left the house. He didn't know where to go, he didn't want to go to the baths, he didn't want to get high or get drunk. He didn't believe he deserved an escape from this, he felt he should feel every bit of pain, every second of hurt his brain and heart had to offer him.
It was no more than he deserved. How could Justin bear to look at him? How had he snuggled up to him last night? Why hadn't he hit him? It didn't make sense, he'd ruined everything, he'd destroyed his family and his life and Justin hadn't said a thing. Brian walked, he stole a light from a passing queer, being a good-looking fag on liberty avenue had no end of advantages.
He knew he shouldn't be smoking but he didn't fucking care. If he was going to make it as a football player, one cigarette in a time of great need wouldn't stop him. He walked until he got to Woodies, he stubbed out his cigarette on the wall and then strolled in. It was early so the only people there was one guy behind the bar and a few sad old queens sat in a corner playing cards.
"They'll be here all day," the barman smirked, "morning to night, I don't even know if they have a home to go to."
"I know how they feel," Brian sighed, hoisting himself onto a barstool.
"Aren't you a little young to be here?" The barman asked.
"If I'm hot enough, I'm old enough," Brian shrugged. "That seems to be the general rule around Liberty Avenue."
The man raised an eyebrow but he kept quiet.
"Is there something you wanna talk about kid? I've heard it all, you know."
"I'm sure you have," Brian smirked. "But I don't air my dirty laundry in public and I certainly don't share it with a barman at Woodies."
"Fine," the man sighed, "what'll it be?"
Brian seemed to consider this question for a moment before saying, "nothing," and sliding off the barstool and back out of the pub. He didn't want booze, he didn't want smokes, he didn't want to get high or get laid. He didn't know what he wanted, maybe to apologize to Justin and Molly, explain that he never meant to hurt them or to break-up their family, maybe he should apologize to Craig and Jennifer too, then his parents and Jack and Eric, Michael for leading him on and Debbie for being a burden. Maybe his dad was right, the world would have been a better place if he'd never been born.
He turned suddenly on his heels and went to set the world right again.
::
It wasn't as dramatic as he'd imagined it would be. He just stood on the roof of a building, a hospital building because he'd always thought irony was amusing, with his arms out peering out across the Pittsburgh landscape. There wasn't much to talk about, there were buildings and cars and people living their lives, there were trees and parks and animals but it all looked bleak and broken. All of it was just another person he could hurt. He shuffled a little closer to the edge of the wall.
He wished Justin were here now, to help him; 'to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die'. He shuddered as he looked out over the landscape, it didn't feel very heavenly, just final and necessary. Maybe if Michael were here, he'd come with him, Michael never let him face anything by himself, they could both stand here, they could jump together and for a moment they would fly, like Superman and Lois Lane, like Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad.
He smirked, truthfully though, he needed courage because as he peered over the side of the building, he felt sick to his stomach. His mind raced with the people he'd never see again, the things he'd never do. The thought of dying terrified him, the thought of falling off this building scared him more than the thought of living through the hell of school and college and life. He was a coward, that was all there was to it. He took a step backwards, grateful that the rooftop wall was wide.
He heard a voice behind him telling him he was doing well and now just keep moving in that direction. Brian just sighed, he'd almost forgotten about the group of doctors, nurses and police that were stood behind him, watching his every move.
Some idiot had decided he needed a smoke whilst Brian had been pondering his fate and now the whole hospital were there to watch some idiot police man, with a low voice and a patronising tone talk him out of 'doing something stupid'. If Brian was honest, the man and his voiced words of encouragement was about the only thing that really made him want to jump. He just wanted to see the other's faces when he failed, he wanted his blood to be on that man's hands, he wanted that man to feel as guilty as he did, he wanted to hear all the doctors saying 'it wasn't your fault' or 'there was nothing else you could have done', whilst the man had his insides rotted away by the guilt.
But Brian knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy another man being as guilt-ridden as him, he'd be dead and that would be a waste.
He sighed again and edged closer to death. He'd been stood up here twenty minutes now, he may as well give them a show. He covered his eyes with his left hand and shouted,
"goodbye cruel world," before jumping backwards and landing safely on the hospital roof.
"Gotcha," he smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to go" but as he reached the stairs he turned and said, "I was never gonna jump you know. In fact, I wasn't even going to get on the wall until this guy," he pointed to the first smoking man, "came up and jumped to conclusions but I nearly did jump," he said, looking at the guy who'd been talking to him, "and you were the one motivating me to do it, with every false kind word."
And with that, he left. The hospital staff were chasing him, reluctant to let him go without counselling and therapy but Brian felt fine. Now that he'd reached the ground and looked up, he knew he'd never have been able to jump off. He had too many people he needed to prove wrong, and that meant going to school. He knew what to do, he had to be the best, most successful fag he could and that's what he would do. It was amazing how standing on a roof could help you think.
