A/N: Yeah so... this chapter is NOT for the faint of heart. Hell, this entire FIC is not for the faint of heart. You have been warned.

TW: Last scene: Semi-graphic violence, OC death.

I put TW in the last scene when it starts and when it's over. So if you see: -TW- and you wish to not read, keep scrolling down until you see
-TW over-

This chapter is Rated M.

Chapter 19- Parental

1 year ago, July 1987

He shouldn't be here.

Henry gulped as he looked around cautiously around the city that was almost completely dark if it weren't for the lamp posts among some of the apartments in the projects, something Henry was incredibly thankful for. Incidentally, this is the first time that he was actually thankful for being in the projects. It was a miracle that he wasn't mugged yet. This is the lifestyle he could've had, the lifestyle that a few of his friends had, but it was a dangerous and reckless life, and he had a family to take care of and protect. Speaking of taking care of family and protecting them, it was ironically why he was out here late at two in the morning in one of the most dangerous areas in the city.

He had gone to bed early so he could wake up at one in the morning to catch the train. If he thought it was insane to ride the train at ten at night, it was nothing compared to after midnight. The homeless and drunks were scattered everywhere, and if he didn't look so tough, he probably would've been severely injured. Guilt plagued him as he tried to find the spot his friends said that they said would be at. He really shouldn't be here. The risk he was taking was huge, crazy, mad... this is something Lindsay would do. He preached to his siblings about not getting into crime because there were other ways to make money in legal ways. But to protect his family? Henry would chop his right arm off if it secured them, do anything to make sure they weren't hurt. Henry realized for the first time in his life, that if he had to break a serious law in order to protect them, he would do it.

He felt like a villain.

So here he was.

"Henry," Nathan greeted, along with Jason who just nodded once. They held a medium-sized box that must've been heavy if the two of them had to hold it up with both hands. Henry smiled weakly at them; strained, as Nathan went on. "I gotta tell you, man... you're the last person I'd expected to need-"

"Can we just get to it?" Henry cut him off nervously, his eyes drifting back and forth, hoping he wasn't going to be caught, or that the police would show up unexpectedly and get him arrested. That is the last thing he needed. Nathan and Jason exchanged a look of amusement at their friend's paranoia, before turning back to him.

"Pick your favorite," remarked Jason, opening the box.

Henry felt his blood go cold.

1 year later, July 1988

"Checkmate." The simple yet meaningful statement caused their mother to scowl, but for Melvin to smirk in victory. She placed a reluctant finger on her king and knocked it hard against the chess board. Sheila watched this, also smirking as her brother said: "Face it, mom... you taught me too well." For the past two hours, their mother took turns playing chess with Sheila and Melvin while their eldest brother was in their room with the twins. Their father, luckily, was disappearing more and more, and managed to leave today early without any altercation with anyone.

But for half of that time, that one hour, Sheila had watched in fascination and anticipation as her brother and mother went head-to-head in chess. Normally when Sheila went against her brother, not only would she very rarely win - she's convinced that he's let her win in the past - but the times when she'd lose, she was hardly close to beating Melvin. But in this case with their mother and Melvin, the game had been close, with Melvin only having a few pieces left.

She sighed in mock regret. "I knew I shouldn't have put you in front of a chess board so early."

"Didn't Henry say that when you were pregnant with Melvin you often played chess by yourself?" Sheila quipped with a grin.

Their mother smiled fondly at her second child. "That's probably why." Melvin smiled back. "I'll be right back." She exited the room, her children watching as she exited the room. With the faint sound of a door shutting, Sheila and Melvin took this time to talk among themselves.

"So she's really back, huh?" Sheila remarked, her eyes still lingering on the direction their mother went in. Melvin nodded eagerly, with a grin. Sheila found herself, for once, agreeing with Melvin. "I have to admit, this is probably the best summer we've had with her."

"She hasn't had one of her spells once," added Melvin. He wasn't like Henry, he did not often pray - mainly because he assumed that whoever was up there probably didn't want to listen to him anyway - but he did pray that his mother would never revert back to her depressed and unstable self. The times when she did have this energy to spend time with her kids often didn't last and usually resulted in her staying in bed for weeks.

"This is the longest she's lasted," said Sheila.

Melvin lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean she's lasted?" He asked her defensively. He crossed his arms. "She's lasting like this for as long as she's alive."

Although Sheila was tempted to say that it is very possible that their mother could go back to her usual state, she reminded herself that because of their mother's more active role as their parent helped her and Melvin get along a lot better than before. Sheila was not about to ruin it by getting him pissed at her. But before she could open her mouth and agree with him, her mother flew back into the living room. "What should I make for dinner?" And another thing, never did Sheila and Melvin think that question would pop out of her mouth everyday, especially over the summer. It wasn't a lot of food by any means, but they were no longer starving, and Sheila especially couldn't help but be proud at how far they've come.

"Uh... what do we have?" questioned Melvin, grabbing the chess board and its pieces to put away. His eyes grew eager. "Do we have chicken? We really should have chicken."

Sheila agreed with a grin. "None of that Hamburger Helper garbage. Melvin tried to make it the other week and he nearly set the house on fire."

Melvin gaped at her like a fish out of water, much to their mother's amusement. She laughed at Melvin's misfortune, looking at him sympathetically. "Let's hope your future husband can cook."

Immediately, Melvin thought of Keith, who didn't like him... but then again... he was just so... ugh nevermind. He was a moron. Nonetheless: "I still can't get over the fact that everyone knew I was gay before I knew that I was gay."

"I didn't," Sheila reminded him. "I just didn't care enough to think about that."

Their mother snorted with amusement. "Meanwhile I've known since he tried dressing up in the bathroom when he was three. Melvin dear, don't give me that look. You were so adorable. You still are-"

"Mom..." Melvin groaned, burying his face in his hands while Sheila's grin grew wider.

"Mommy!" The three pairs of eyes at the table turned into the direction of the two voices, naturally, belonging to Wes and Wen, both who were toddling over to their mother gleefully with wide smiles as bright as the sun. She scooped both of them up, both of them sitting on each lap.

"Hi my little bears!" she cooed, hugging both of them close to her as they giggled. Sheila and Melvin exchanged another look at their mother showing affection to the twins and smiled. "Did you hear that? We're having chicken for dinner!"

"Who doesn't like chicken?" Wes exclaimed, throwing his little arms around his mother's neck. "Just don't let Melvin go make it!"

"Yeah he makes things go boom!" added Wen. Melvin's cheeks went red as Sheila and their mother snickered. "He tried making Humburger Helper!"

"Hamburger," Sheila corrected amusedly, falling into a fit of laughter. Even Melvin couldn't help but smirk at the mispronunciation. "We've gotta help the twins pronounce things right, I think this is the fourth time day he's mispronounced a word."

"You used to pronounce words incorrectly too, Shelly." Sheila turned around to see Henry leaning against the wall beside the kitchen, smirking in amusement on the scene that he had been listening to for the past minute. Henry's eyes drifted to Melvin who was snickering at his sister's embarrassment. The moment was too great for Henry not to take it. "Oh and Melvin, you did look cute in mom's oversized purple coat." Melvin's face blushed a deep red while Sheila laughed aloud and smacked the table in a hoot. Henry smiled. "Well... I'll see you guys later."

Their mother stood up at once. "Where are you going?"

Henry stopped in his tracks. "Uh, I'm going out with Nate and a few other friends..."

"Okay, just be home before dinner." Henry looked at her just for a second, before nodding and exiting the house. Sheila blinked upon the sight of her eldest brother and then looked to see her mother smiling at her. Sheila weakly returned it. She realized that this was becoming the norm; which wasn't normal, because even though Henry did go out occasionally with his friends - or in the past with Lindsay - it wasn't this often, and most times, their mother wasn't home which left Melvin in charge.

Hours had passed, and Wen came to a revelation.

"I miss Henry," he said, with a pout. Sheila's heart sank, but at the same time, he looked adorable when pouting. The youngest twin hopped off their mother's lap and climbed on his sister's, his little arms wrapping around her neck. Her once weak smile now grew into a full one as she hugged him back. Damn the twins for worming their way into her heart so easily.

"He wants something, he got it from you," remarked Melvin.

Of course her older brother just had to ruin the mood. Frowning at him, Sheila replied cheekily, "Incorrect. Wes is the one that hugs you when he wants something."

Case and point, Wes got down from their mother's lap and tightly clung himself to Melvin's leg. "I want candy!" Sheila smirked and winked at Wes, who giggled while Melvin sighed and lifted Wes. "Candy please!" he chanted. "Candy please!"

"He wants candy, and he even said please!" Sheila emphasized amusedly, making Melvin roll his eyes.

Their mother reached into her purse and pulled out three quarters. "Go get him and Wen candy at the corner store."

Sheila stared at her mother in disbelief. Since when were they in a position where they would be comfortable grabbing sweets at the store? Getting candy at the corner store, in her youth, were only for those rare special occasions where her mother had gotten a good tip and took her and her older brothers to get some candy. One time, when Sheila was seven, she had easily slipped a chocolate bar in her pocket while their mother was paying for the rest of the candy at the front, distracting the cashier. It was the first time she ever stole something. Her very, very first crime. Neither Henry nor Melvin ever found out.

Her mind was telling her not to trust her with this - that they should wait and save up more money before they could even think about getting candy. Although it was three quarters, not even a full dollar, she had developed Henry's mindset when it came to money. Ugh, damn him. He should be making these types of decisions, not her. But her heart was telling her to let them have the candy, because just look at them. Wes and Wen were waiting for her to take the money offered, with their puppy dog eyes and slightly quivering lower lip. Sheila sighed in defeat. Damn they knew her weakness for them too well by now, the little sneaks.

So they took a quick trip to the corner store. With Sheila grabbing Wes' hand and Melvin grabbing Wen's, they got a few pieces of candy that they liked. Out of the corner of Melvin's eye as he paid for the candy, he noticed that his sister pocketed two chocolate bars without missing a beat. Melvin glared at his sister for a moment, who gave him an innocent smile, before accepting the candy at the register. Once they walked back, Melvin slapped her arm as she ate her chocolate bar casually on the go.

"What is wrong with you?" Melvin squawked, his eyes wide at his sister biting into the bar. Sheila doesn't answer, instead pulling out the extra that she sneaked in for Melvin, holding it out in a taunting matter as a form of bribery, smirking broadly. Eyeing the chocolate bar with desire, he snatched it out of her hand and opened it. "You're setting a terrible example for our brothers."

Sheila smirked wider and shrugged carelessly. "If something happens where we need food or money again, they'll know how to steal."

"Stealing is wrong."

"Sometimes it's necessary."

"How was that necessary? Mom trusted us."

"You're not gonna snitch on me, are you?"

"...No."

They reached the door of their house. "That's what I thought."

Melvin opened the door and nearly dropped his chocolate bar at the uneasy yet sadly familiar sight unraveled in front of him and his younger siblings.

After walking in a straight line for the fifth time in a row, he decided he was sober enough.

In his early years of high school, Henry did occasionally drink too much to the point where he'd end up being hungover, throw up, or straight up pass out in his bedroom. He has learned since then - and he's especially learned since being around Lindsay - that he needed to sober up before making his way home. He hadn't missed the way that Melvin and Sheila would roll their eyes upon him stumbling in the house. Truth to be told, it frightened them more than anything, understandably.

Nathan's car was parked in the back of their high school, a common place to drink during the summer, especially after dark. Earlier it was often for people to just cruise around without going anywhere before making a final stop, which just so happened to be behind the school. Rarely did anyone ever get caught, nor did anyone face any real consequences.

"Are you sure you wanna go?" Nathan asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Henry felt stability on his footing. "Yeah, I'm just... not feeling the greatest." It wasn't the alcohol talking. It was something else; a sudden terrifying gut feeling enveloped him. In his later years, Henry would learn to trust this feeling more and more to the point where it was unbearable.

"You alright?" asked Jason, looking at him concernedly. Henry's back was away from him, so he couldn't see his friend being worried for him. "Earlier you looked like you saw a damn ghost."

He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and faced his friends. "Yeah no worries... just... tired."

Henry shot Axel a look. "It did not help that you smoked in the car. It's like you wanted us to get arrested."

Axel crossed his arms defensively. "I wasn't going to let that reefer go to waste, man."

Henry sighed at this, the typical Axel response. With one final look to his friend, he said: "I'll see you guys around. I mean... we still have the rest of August, right?" Jason, Axel, and Nathan wordlessly watched him go. Henry's almost positive they would start talking about the fact that he left early again.

Henry stood by the fact that like many things in life, this was a blessing and a curse. It still happened to him, it was still built into his mind, no matter how much he tried to shake the thought away. The fact that there was always something his siblings needed, and that he had vowed to be there for them.

Always.

This was no different.

-TW-

They all stared at the monster that stood before them. Their father - with his eyes glazed and red - looked different. Their mother was wincing under their father's grasp of her pushed against the wall by her neck. Sheila saw it in her mother's eyes; the fear and her motioning for them to go up to the treehouse. Sheila's mind was screaming at her for her to run, escape, do anything but be here, but her feet would not move an inch. Glancing over at Melvin, he was probably having the same thoughts as she was. The twins, naturally, were confused by what they were looking at, and they had no idea where Sheila and Melvin were using their hands to cover their eyes.

"Please go," their mother begged softly.

Melvin ignored her, casting determined eyes on his father. "Leave her alone." Sheila's eyes grew wide impressively - but more fearfully - at Melvin who managed to speak against his father without stammering or at least saying it from a safe distance. Their father glared at him so harshly that if Melvin was younger, Sheila was almost guaranteed that he would've wet himself. Just when it looked like his father was going to let his grip go on their mother - something Melvin secretly wanted - something else happened instead.

Wes and Wen had rushed up to him obliviously. "Daddy, look! We have candy!" The former of the two shouted gleefully, showing him the chocolate he got. The horror that dawned on Sheila and Melvin's faces were looks that no one should ever have in their lives. Fearfully, the two manage to cast their eyes on their father, who's expression was unreadable and dull. This did not provide any comfort to them. In fact, it made them feel worse.

And it was going to get worse. With his free hand, their father slapped the candy out of Wes' hands, prompting Sheila's eyes to widen and yell, "Get back here!" She tried to charge forward and scoop up the twins but her father stopped her with a glare.

"Don't even think about it," he ordered dangerously. Sheila was going to defy him, but it was Melvin who held her back, his hand on her shoulder.

No, no, no...

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Their father's eyes lock with their mother's, his grip tightening under her wince. "We just had to have more, didn't we?" he spat, referring to the twins. "We should've gotten rid of them, I told you!" Sheila and Melvin's stomachs dropped at once. They remembered the arguments after finding out their mother was pregnant again with the twins. They remembered the shouting, they remembered their father nearly knocking their mother down to the ground, roaring at her to have an abortion. Since Sheila and Melvin were only eight and nine years old, they were not aware of what the word meant. Henry had explained to them that it's when someone is pregnant and didn't want to be anymore.

"No!" Her mother yelled. "Please... don't hurt them," she begged.

"...What does that mean, daddy?" Wen piped up.

Sheila felt like crying when she saw her father release the grip on her mother, but now, his attention was focused on the twins Eyes glazed, red, dark, dangerous. "It means you weren't wanted," he spat. Sheila and Melvin's stomachs dropped even further. Wen gasped in fright when he saw his father raise his hand, having seen what a raised hand meant when it was in front of his older siblings. He was about to wail, let out a scream, but before he could do that and feel the pain of being hit, Henry had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and tackled his father to the ground. "What the fu-"

While Henry was struggling to hold his father down, he cut him off and faced Sheila and Melvin. "Take the twins to mom and dad's room."

Sheila opened her mouth to protest. "But-"

"Now!" Henry ordered forcefully, straining himself. He made it clear that he was not going to repeat himself. Melvin grabbed Wen's hand out of the way and rushed him to the bedroom, with Sheila doing the same for Wes. While they did this, Henry finally lost his firm grip and was flipped over by his father. Grabbing him by the hair, he knocked his head on the cold hard floor. Their mother screamed, and in a moment of adrenaline, she pushed him off her son and knocked him against the wall. Sheila and Melvin had gotten back just in time to witness the heroic action, but she wasn't done yet. This woman - who would preach about violence not being the answer - slapped him across the face. It bewildered the three of her children, who have never, not once, seen their mother fight back.

"Don't you touch them, you reptile," their mother spat. Her husband just stared at her blankly. His expression, again, unreadable. This sent Sheila into a wave of panic, for obvious reasons, but more so in anticipation of the events to come. "You're getting out of here."

"This is my house!" Their father roared.

"Now it isn't," their mother retorted. "Get out!"

The main priority of a mother should be her children, above all else. A mother senses issues that their children may be having, but instead of chastising them for it, she helps them work through it. It is important that a mother teaches through a child's strength and not their weaknesses. Now Sheila would be the first to say that her mother did none of these things after her mental health decline, nor did Sheila ever recall a moment where her mother put her children first. But in the back of Sheila's mind, as much as she loathed to admit it then, she had a tiny spark of hope - much like Melvin did - that her mother would come back in a galvanizing moment. This happened to be one of those moments. This was her comeback, and for a second, Sheila felt relief.

But the feeling was shattered as Sheila's eyes shifted from her mother to her father. His eyes, her mind shouted at her. Look at his eyes. Although her father had a way with making people feel terrified; this was quite different. When Sheila briefly looked at her two older brothers, she could tell that they were thinking the exact same thing. Her father had run into the kitchen in a mad frenzy... nobody knew what to think, how to react, or what to do in that exact moment... but the moment leading up to that was something no one could've prepared for.

Their father, in his maddened state, grabbed a kitchen knife and rammed it through their mother's abdomen.

Then, came the blood.

If there's one thing that Sheila, Melvin, and Henry were aware of in their neighborhood, was that people got stabbed. It was an unfortunately common event that occurred in the Southside for a variety of reasons, such as gangs, drugs, and so many others that were often too complex to explain or understand. This moment, where the older three siblings saw their mother get stabbed before their very eyes, happened to be one of those complex examples. The only sound that was heard was Sheila's little gasp that was cut off the moment the knife hit their mother's stomach. No one could speak, time stood still just for a minute, but once that was over... hell was going to break loose.

Melvin was the first to react. A mental note that Sheila and Henry would've taken if they hadn't been so shocked was that Melvin had a set of lungs on him. A scream - an ear piercing, horrifying, nightmarish scream, broke the barrier of tense silence in the living room. It even brought their father back in the moment, who he himself looked surprised at the action he had just done, staring at the knife in disbelief. His eyes shifted toward his wife, her eyes wide open and proceeded to slowly look down at the knife that had just been landed, and fell backwards with a thud. Melvin did not give a shit that his life was in danger, he ran over to his mother's side, tears streaming down his face. "Mom, you're okay! Do you hear me!? You're fine!"

But she wasn't - and the three of them knew that deep down, but refused to believe it.

Sheila, however, was frozen in place. Still processing that her father, her bastard of a father, was capable of something like this. The drunken abusive moron would stumble over steps to get into the treehouse, but could easily end a life potentially.

Henry didn't hesitate for a second - he glared intensely at his father with such hatred as he tackled him to the ground. The sudden action took all of them by such surprise that Sheila and Melvin broke away from their mother's eyes just for a moment to look at Henry. However, a cough erupted from their mother, blood coming up. Henry unfortunately decided to briefly look over their mother for that particular second, and that's when their father had an advantage and quickly tackled him back, landing a swift punch across his face.

"Someone call 911! Please!" Melvin screamed in terror.

"Don't you dare!" Their father roared. "Or... or you'll be next!" He threatened.

Sheila couldn't move.

Double-edged sword.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

A catch twenty two.

She knew what was coming... they all did.

"Shelly! Just do it-" Melvin cut himself off with a gasp as his mother put her hand on his, slowly turning to look at him in the eyes. Melvin caught his heart in his throat, and felt like he was going numb along with her. "Mom, you're going to be fine! You have to be fine! Do you understand?!" She lightly shook her head. "Mom!" Finally, Sheila sprung into action. She grabbed Melvin's hand forcefully but he slapped it away. "Let go of me, Shelly!" He hissed.

"Go into their room and look after the twins," Sheila ordered promptly.

Melvin looked at his mother pleadingly. "But..."

"Melvin, honey, just go..." Their mother said weakly. Her sad smile tore at his heartstrings. "Mommy will be okay." Melvin didn't want to go. He really didn't because most likely, from the looks of it, this was going to be the last time Melvin would ever see her. Tears began to fill his eyes. "No tears," she told him softly, trying to reach up and brush them away. "No tears," she repeated once more. Melvin couldn't watch anymore; he stormed into his parent's room to check up on the twins, fright and despair plaguing him. Now, their mother slowly looked at Sheila. The look that was given her way sent chills down Sheila's spine - it was a knowing look. She was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. The sounds of Henry and their father tearing each other apart, from room to room, filled the living room with anything but living. When something is living, you're in the moment of happiness. This was anything but... so Sheila couldn't help but find herself angry that their mother was dying in their living room. "I've always loved you, you know."

"I know mom," Sheila said softly. Her own eyes were dry and she didn't like it.

"I never showed it well..."

"...yeah you didn't," Sheila replied honestly.

Their mother looked like she appreciated the truth. "The twins too, and Henry... oh he's done so much."

The job you should've done, Sheila added mentally. "Yeah..." She didn't quite know what to say.

"Stick together," their mother offered. Sheila noticed her voice was getting weaker. "No matter what... stick together. You're a team." Sheila took a step back as more blood was being coughed up. Henry managed to push his father away so hard that he groaned on the ground in pain. Henry rushed by his mother's side. Their mother now had tears in hers upon seeing the sight of her eldest. "Look after them Henry... please..."

Henry sighed deeply. It was unfortunately time. "I will." I always have, he added mentally. He bit his lip so hard that if he did it any harder it would bleed. "I promise you, mom... you don't have to worry."

"Please look after them!" Their mother now cried out, gasping in pain, letting out a harrowing yell. Melvin slammed the bedroom door open as quickly as he slammed it back shut, rushing to his mother's side with a pleading look in his eyes. Their mother let a few tears leak from her eyes, filled with regret. "The babies, Melo..."

"They're okay," reassured Melvin. He said he couldn't listen anymore, but he just had to stay. "Please, please, please stop yelling... it'll only make it worse."

Michelle Go was dying, and with the way things looked, she seemed pleased that it finally happened. She cast her eyes slowly to each of the three eldest, grateful that the twins were not here to see this, but nonetheless: "Send the babies my love, would you?" She gets frantic nods in return. Smiling in satisfaction, though it was a rather weak smile, understandably. Her eyes finally shut; her chest rising one last time before it ceased to exist.

Melvin's body shook with sobs, burying his face in his hands as he incoherently spoke; his words jumbled up and frantic. He removed his hands from his red blotchy face and stared angrily at the ceiling. Sheila pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly, and stared at her mother's limp body. The racing thoughts that went through her brain were too dark and scary and some of it she couldn't understand herself. Her breathing was rather heavy, she realized, and had trouble getting that under control.

There was no time to mourn now, Henry realized. His siblings were in danger... his father was getting back up for round two, it looked like. If that's what his father wanted, then Henry shall not disappoint. Do it now, Henry's mind screamed at him. That's why you went there in the first place. Henry felt dread well up with him as memories of a year ago popped up; his travel into the projects to buy something he never thought he needed. The first thing: provocation. He laughed from afar, bitter and sour: "You're pathetic, you know." Sheila and Melvin looked up at him from their position on the floor, stopping their mourning session to focus on their elder brother in disbelief and horror. Their father, truthfully, looked confused, perhaps a little delirious. Henry continued, despite the pleading looks that came from his siblings' way. "I mean it... fucking disgraceful. You call yourself a man? No, you're a coward." With that, he flew into his room before his dad could catch him in time.

That seemed to do it. Sheila and Melvin watched apprehensively as their father stormed over into Henry's room, shouting a variety of colorful words that shook the house to its very core. It was quiet from Henry's end. Then, they hear: "What the fuck?!" from their father. Suddenly, their eyes widen when they see their father running back into the living room, hands up in absolute fear, stammering over his words: "P-please, please! Don't do it." Neither of them had seen their father so frightened, it makes them wonder for a moment what Henry could've done. But they didn't need to anymore, because to their horror, surprise, and total astonishment, they found out.

Their big brother, who was their paternal figure, who preached about staying away from crime, was pointing a gun at their father.

Naturally, Melvin was horrified. Also naturally, Sheila kept a watchful eye; wondering what Henry would do next. Funny enough, both of them - not Melvin - but she and Henry knew that he wasn't going to use it; their father called his bluff. As he kept a firm holding on the gun, Henry felt like a criminal. It was official; he was a hypocrite, this was possibly the lowest he could go. He never ever hoped he would ever feel this way ever again. Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, without breaking eye contact from their father, Henry asked: "Call 911."

"Son, please don't-"

"Shut up!" Henry screamed in agony, making Sheila and Melvin flinch. They never heard him scream like that, ever. "And don't you dare call me son." Out of the corner of Henry's eye he saw that Sheila was the one that decided to make the call, her voice quiet and demure... on the verge of breaking. Things like recovering a body, their father stabbed their mother... it was becoming more and more real... Once that was done, Henry put the gun from wherever he had it in his room to hide it in. Henry returned quickly, glaring at his father, who was now on the ground, his hands still up, despite there no longer being a gun pointed at him. "We're going to wait until the cops get here... they're going to save you from me."

-TW over-

The house grew eerily silent for the next minute.

Then, the sirens came.

They always did.

Henry finally looked at his siblings and felt his heart sink further into his stomach, the nausea beginning to settle in. Sheila and Melvin, staring back at him, wide-eyed and afraid, much like when they were children, were absolutely motionless. Henry desperately wanted to bring up the contents in his stomach, the pain being unbearable. Nonetheless, he swallowed the bile that made its way up his throat, and ordered quietly: "Go stay with the twins." He did not need to tell them twice. Giving one final look to their mother's body, they rushed into the bedroom, unable to look at her any longer.

This left Henry alone with their father. Barely containing his anger, Henry spat: "You're going to tell them what you did."

A meek nod.

Henry didn't know who this really was anymore.

Soon after, the police showed up and barged into the house. Henry was raised not to be a 'snitch,' as his father called it, but for now, he had to make an exception. Pointing at his father, he said, "That's him," he then realized his voice was shaking. "Right there." They wasted no time at all. The police were brutal, grabbing their father while he roared profanities, not helping his case. This was probably the one time Henry was okay with the police. His father spat at one of the officers, which again, did not help his case. He was dragged away, kicking and screaming, the little dignity that he had left was now gone. More people showed up; here to take away their mother's body. A cloth was put over her, making Henry cover his mouth, as if hiding a gasp. Much like his siblings, he couldn't look anymore. He waited until they hoisted her up, away from the house.

Speaking of his siblings, Henry could only wonder what was going on behind that bedroom door.

His thoughts were interrupted by an officer.

"How old are you son?" The officer asked, putting what was meant to be a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Henry shrugged his hand off. "Don't call me son," he stated firmly, glaring at the officer. "And I'm eighteen."

The officer's eyebrows shot up at this. "Eighteen?" He frowned when he saw the teenager nod. "Operator said they heard someone else's voice... a female's voice..."

"My sister," Henry offered. Why so many questions? Just make the hurt stop... "I told her and my other younger siblings to hide in our parents bedroom." He looked toward the direction of where the room was, desperately hoping they were okay.

"Younger siblings?" emphasized the officer. Henry swallowed an angry lump in his throat. This officer continued to aggravate him more and more.

"Yes," Henry pressed irritably. "Why?"

The officer looked hesitant for just a moment; letting out a sigh. "One moment." And the officer walked outside where other police cars were, without saying another word. This baffled Henry to no end. Now he was curious... not in a good way. If he wasn't already uneasy; now it was even more than before. He would learn in the future that curiosity killed the cat. He wasn't referring to Lizzie, who sat idly on the kitchen counter unimpressed with the ordeal. Henry couldn't help but scowl at her as he marched outside to strain to hear what the officers saying over the blast of sirens.

Henry felt his good hearing was a blessing and a curse. In this case, however, it was a curse. It was barely audible, but if his ear strained hard enough, he managed to hear the officer he was talking to earlier say to another: "We have to place them somewhere until we can find an appropriate guardian."

Henry's heart dropped to his stomach as a wave of dread washed all over him in realization.

No, no, no...

His worst fears...

Police officers were funny, sometimes, and this is meant in the most sarcastically bitter way possible. More often than not, the police officers in their city handled murderers, psychopaths, and rapists with the same wrathful intensity as petty thieves, drunks, and the homeless. Unfortunately, as Henry was about to find out, children weren't exempt from this either. The officers, much like before with their father, did not waste time. Without any warning whatsoever, the officers charged into the house. Henry ran after them, watching in fright as the officer banged on the bedroom door which had been locked. "Open up!" Henry could hear the gasps from the other end. In a moment of rush and adrenaline, Henry jumped in front of the door, guarding it with his life. Naturally, they tried to push him out of the way, but he wouldn't budge. "Son, you need to move!"

"Don't call me son!" Henry screamed at the officers. "This is breaking and entering! I won't let you take them!"

"You better move before we make you move!" One of them shouted threateningly. Henry's heart shattered as his eyes now laid on the holsters of the officers, equipped with a gun. They were not kidding. Perhaps they could be bluffing, but Henry resisted the urge to laugh at the thought; they don't bluff. They didn't have to use them, since of the officers grabbed and shoved him to the side. One of them broke the lock and the door flung open, revealing Wes in Sheila's arms and Wen in Melvin's, huddled together on the bed. The four of them snapped their heads up to face the officers at once, their eyes wide as they came charging toward them in a chaotic frenzy.

"What in the hell?!" Sheila exclaimed when a police officer had roughly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off the bed. "Why are you grabbing me?!" She looked over to Henry with eyes filled with fear. "Henry what are they doing!?" Henry's heart sank as the twins were easily lifted by two officers; who began to kick and wail and scream. Sheila let out a horrified yell, "Wes! Wen! What the fuck is going on - get away from me!" The last part was directed to the officers.

More shouting. More screaming. More failing attempts from Henry to save his siblings. Finally, it clicked in Melvin's mind. "They're splitting us up!" he cried out. An officer tried to take him but Melvin slapped his hand away. "Get your fucking hands off me you pig!" He shouted at one of them. Henry bit his lip as they grabbed Melvin harder now and dragged him out of the room, along with Sheila who was now letting out a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush. Once they saw the twins in a cop car, Sheila and Melvin began to scream their names, that they were here, but then the car drove away; hearing the cries of Wes and Wen growing more and more distant. Melvin took the opportunity to drop a profanity to the officer. "Fucking asshole!"

"Do you wanna go into a jail cell instead?!" snapped the officer. "Get in the car!"

"It's just for a few days," Henry shouted over to Sheila and Melvin urgently. They merely stared at him; petrified. "This has happened before in homes. I'm going to work something out, I promise! Just stay calm, do as your told, smile and nod, and most importantly, keep your mouths shut!" They nodded frantically. He would've given them more advice, but the two were dragged into separate police cars. This only made Henry feel infinitely worse; not only were the twins separated, but from the looks of it, Sheila and Melvin were going to be separated as well. The last thing Henry saw was the tear stained faces as the police cars drove away.

Henry slowly walked back into the now-significantly emptier house. Taking in a shuddering breath, he shut the door behind him softly. His eyes scanned the room carefully, watching it like a hawk, but now tears were beginning to leak from them. He forcefully rubbed his eyes to prevent the tears from flowing. He had to focus on something else or else he would breakdown, he just knew it. So he scanned the room again, but all he was reminded of was the moments ago where Sheila and Melvin were panicking while the twins were crying hysterically, begging for all the pain to stop, and how he couldn't do that and how it destroyed him inside.

His breathing became more shallow, forcing his weight against the wall, clutching his fists tightly as a way of desperately trying control himself, the little that he had and was suffocating him. He shut his eyes tightly in agony, the memories from not too long ago filling his head as he tried blocking out the screams, the blood, and the overall horror of this night. Unfortunately, when he opened them, his eyes landed on the spot that their mother had been murdered in, the image still fresh in his mind when he tried to block it out to the best of his ability.

It wasn't enough.

Letting out a scream of frustration, Henry punched the wall repeatedly with all he had, finally making a hole in it as he let the tears finally flow down his cheeks. His face, red with fury and anger at all the unfairness, was contorted in a rage that had been built up for nearly a decade. With one final exasperated kick to the wall, he placed his hands on the wall again and let out yet another scream, trying to steady himself on his feet. He was drained from all that pent up energy he took out on the wall with. Finally giving in, he leaned his back against the wall for a moment and slid down, burying his face in his knees as they were starting to get soaked with tears of anguish.

Henry doesn't know how long he sat there for. It could've been an hour, but it could've been only five minutes. He couldn't tell the difference with time at this point. But he did know that right now, he shouldn't be sitting there, hell, he couldn't. Looking around the house, he saw it had four less siblings in it, and he obviously had to fix that.

Swallowing his own emotions of anger and grief, Henry slowly got up from his position against the wall. He rubbed the nape of neck in distress, pondering for a moment what to do now. He still had trouble steadying his breathing, it being slightly labored, but he'd worry about that later. He decided to go back into his room - with three less boys in it - and pulled out a pen and some paper. With racing thoughts, he began jotting down notes of how he would be able to get the four of them back... after all... he was all they've got.