It's finally time for the first chapter! This story will focus around Wesley mostly so some chapters will be from his pov as he learns about his birth family.
I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Talks about murder and death. Still in the process of writing so check here for new warnings as I go!
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Falling face first onto the bed Wes let out a soft sigh feeling some of the tension that had been hovering over him slip away. There was nothing quite like a nice plush blanket to make the world seem just a bit better than it had before. It always helped him relax. It was either that or the fact there was finally no one trying to tell him everything he was doing was wrong. At the moment he didn't which one.
When he had first been approached to help organize the school prom he had been excited. He had known that it was going to take a lot of time and effort, but it had sounded like so much fun. Anyway, it wasn't as if he didn't really enjoy organize parties and things like that. His parents had wonderful anniversaries over the years thanks to him. A prom couldn't be that much harder.
It also didn't help that he wasn't the best at saying no to people. At the moment he really hated that part of his personality. It needed to chill. He hadn't even been friends with the people that had asked him! He didn't even particularly want to be friends with them either. It had just seemed like a good idea at the time.
Anyway it wasn't as if he didn't love the pressure of it all. He was good with coming up with fantastic things off the top of his head. That was how he had found his love of organizing parties in the first place. Thank you, Izzy, for not remembering when their parents anniversary was. It was a rabbit hole from there for him and he loved every second of it.
At least normally he did. When he was the one in charge of making the plans and telling people what to do. When the people he was working with trusted that he knew what he was doing. When people didn't look at him like he was a complete idiot for even daring to question one of their brilliant ideas.
No, it wasn't even people that were doing that. It was person. Connor Anderson. The guy was a year older than him and he thought that he could take over just because of that. Despite the fact that it was Wes that had been put in charge and not him! It was no wonder why Clary had asked if he'd take over for her. The things he did for his best friend.
The best part was prom wasn't going to be happening for another few months! They didn't have all the time in the world, but they had enough that as long as they did a handful of things in one day than everything would be wrapped up with a neat little bow by the time it came around. It was as close to an ideal situation as it could get.
At least in his eyes it was. Connor had a different thought process. He wanted everything done as quickly as possible. Which wouldn't have been a problem if not for the fact that they didn't know anything about what the future held. They didn't even know how much money they were going to be able to use! It was all guess work.
That was not something that Wes particularly liked to deal with. Especially when there was a lot riding on them being able to do things correctly. If they decided anything too early than things were going to fall apart before they even started. It was why he had suggested that they come up with a handful of ideas for everything and pick and choose from there when they could.
The look the other teen had sent him had almost made him walk away complete. Which was why he had been asked to help in the first place. Clary hated Connor with a passion. When they had both been tasked with the prom organization she had tried to back out as quickly as possible. She was part of the student counsel though. She couldn't back out. At least not with a good reason and a replacement.
Best friend to the rescue! He had actually been the one to figure out the lie that she could use to get out of the doing it and had been the one to volunteer to cover for her. He had regretted it as soon as he had said anything, but he wasn't going to disappoint her so he sucked it up and did the best that he could.
Or that had been the plan. Never in his life had he wanted to walk away from something so badly. Don't get him wrong. He walked away from things before, but he only did that when he knew that his heart wasn't in it and the people around him would be okay without him.
If he loved what he was doing though there was no stopping him. He poured everything that he was into whatever it was until there was nothing left to give. It had gotten him into more trouble than he liked to admit, but he hated the idea of not putting his full effort into something that he cared about, that people were counting on him to do.
The prom was important. It was important to him, to Clary, to a lot of students. It might even be important to Connor. So he wasn't going to let anyone or anything stop him from doing his best. Even if that meant that he was spending a lot of his free time feeling as if his body was starting to crush under the weight of everything.
Alright, so his life wasn't actually anymore chaotic than it normally was. He and Connor only met up after school three days a week for about an hour. That didn't really mess with his day to day life all that much. The only change was that on those three days he ended up not meeting up with Clary to grab a coffee after school. They did still spend that time texting each other so he wasn't sure that counted.
The weight thing came more from how he felt after he had to met up with Connor. He hated having to deal with the other teen. In all of his life he had never met a person that made him feel worse about himself than the other did. It was like every single thing he said made him question if that was how he actually was.
Except he knew he wasn't anything like the person Connor seemed to think he was. Yes, he had a tendency to get lost in his own thoughts, and just plain lost if he was moving, but he wasn't stupid by any means and he certainly wasn't an airhead. He didn't need someone to talk down to him or treat him like he was a child.
It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. He knew what he was doing. He had planned parties before. He had planned Aunt Hetty's birthday a few times and Uncle Sam's retirement and Izzy's graduation! All of which had been met with raving reviews! He was good at figuring out what people were looking for in a particular situation.
So when Connor called him an airhead or stupid and ignored his ideas for his own it shouldn't bother him as much as it did. He knew better than to believe it. He knew who he was and what he was capable of doing and one person wasn't going to change any of that. At least they shouldn't be able to change that.
It wasn't as if it was the first time that someone had called him those names either. All of his life he had someone thinking he was stupid or something along those lines. He could normally brush it off without a second thought and just keep moving on. If he didn't care about the person that was saying it than it didn't matter to him.
Something was different about Connor though. Or maybe it was the situation that was different. He had no idea which one it was and, if he was honest, he was starting to really not care. He just wanted to get the prom over with as soon as he possibly could. That was not a something that he ever thought he'd think.
Groaning softly Wes reached out wanting to pull his pillow over his head as it started to pound. Before he had even left for school that morning he had already decided that he was going to have a nice, relaxing time after school. There was going to be a bubble bath, veggie pizza, and Homers' Odyssey. It was going to be perfect.
All he had wanted to do after his meeting with Connor though was lay down and forget that thinking was a thing. Hearing his stomach growl he found himself really wishing he hadn't deviated from his plan. He could be relaxing with his favorite food and his favorite poem. What was better than that?
It was times like now where he realized just how much he missed having his older sister around. If Izzy was at home still he'd be able to call out for her and she'd bring him the food without a second guess. She's make fun of him and hold it over him for a few weeks at the very least, but he'd have food and he was okay with that. He should really text her once he got the energy to move.
He really loved the fact that he had the woman in his life. His family was without a doubt the most important thing in his life. They were the people that kept him sane and safe. Usually from himself, but, as odd as it sounded, he loved listening to them telling him off for doing something thoughtlessly.
It wasn't as if they ever did it because they were actually mad at him. It was almost like they were trying to remind him that he was loved and needed to take better care of himself. He appreciated that more than he could ever say.
Than there was how they treated him on a normal day. They were really good at showing him just how much they loved him and how proud of him they were. There was never a doubt in his mind that they loved him. He never had to question or second guess what was going on in their heads when it came to him. They loved him and that was everything to him.
Wes was fully aware that he wasn't always the easiest person to deal with. His mind never seemed to slow down and his mouth had a hard time keeping up. It had lead to more than a few issues over the years. Usually issues that happened when he really didn't understand going on until it was too late.
"Looking a little sad there, Wesley," Dad called from the doorway.
Pulling the pillow away Wes rolled onto his back and looked at the older man smiling down at him. Despite how rotten his felt at the moment he couldn't help smiling back at the sight. There was nothing that calmed him and brought him back to reality quite like his parents. They were both just so steady in everything that they did. He doubted he'd ever be like that. No matter how hard he'd tried he was always on the wrong side of being chaotic.
"Hello," Wes signed sleepily "I'm not sad. Just tired."
"Dance a little harder than you thought?" Dad questioned sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Connor."
"Kiddo, if he's making you this miserable than you need to tell at school."
"They'll pull me from the team!"
"You being okay is more important than that and you know it. If this was Clary what would you be doing?"
"Putting glitter in Connor's backpack so he'd never forgot not to mess with my best friend. And I know that I should tell someone that he's being a major pain, but if I do they will pull me from working on the prom and I want to do that more than anything. I know I can do it. I'm not going to let him ruin something that I actually enjoy just because he wants to be a jerk."
Dad stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and almost amused look on his face. It was one that he was all too familiar with. Roughly, it translated into him being proud of him for what his was doing while also thinking he totally needed to take it down a notch. Wes never did listen to the second part of that look.
"Anyway," Wes continued sitting up, "That's not important right now. I have two days of not seeing him and I'm not going to think about him that entire time. Instead, I'm going to ask you some questions."
"Oh dear," Dad replied a smirk coming to his lips, "Alright. Hit me with your questions, Detective."
"What was your prom like?"
Instead of answering Deeks scratched at the back of his head and looked down. It was the exact same look that always appeared on his face whenever something in his past came up that he hated thinking about. Wes was torn between wanting to know the story and wanting for his dad to not talk about. His stories were rarely ever good one when that look was there.
"Prom was not a good night," Dad finally offered with a shake of his head.
"Okay," Wes signed with a shrug knowing better than to push the older man into telling him something.
"Trust me. Out of all the stories I could tell you that is not one you want to hear."
"Sex story?"
"Sex story."
"You're right. I don't want to know."
Deeks shook his head in amusement as he reached over to ruffle Wes's hair. With a dramatic gasp the teen grasped at his chest his eyes going wide before falling back as if he had just been shot. Or he tried to fall back. It had slipped his mind exactly where he was sitting so instead of falling onto his bed like he had planned his head cracked painfully against his wall.
Jerking forward he wrapped his hands around his head as if he was trying to hold his skull together. He knew that he wasn't actually hurt, but his head had already been aching and the hit just amplified it. Given his tendency for getting migraines he probably should have been paying closer attention to what was going on around him.
That was part of the reason he usually spent Friday's after school relaxing. Even if the week hadn't been stressful the last thing he wanted to do was have to spend his day curled under his blankets trying not to cry or throw up when the pain got too much to handle. He hated more than anything wasting his time like that.
It took a moment for his head to stop pounding. He had been in the situation enough times to know that he needed to ease himself back into everything else. If he opened his eyes too quickly than it was likely he was going to push the little headache he had now into something so much worse and he had way too much planned that weekend to do that to himself.
Instead he took a deep breath through his nose and tried to focus on what he could feel. It was then when he realized there was a pair of strong arms wrapped around him rocking him just enough to be soothing and not nauseating. Letting out the shaky breath he had been holding he let his eyes slip shut his head resting on the mans shoulder.
He had no idea how long he simply laid against the older mans chest, but once he felt like he wasn't going to throw himself head first into the wall again he pulled back. The first thing he saw was worried filled ocean blue eyes staring down at him before a hand brushed his hair away from his face subtly taking his temperature as it went.
"You feeling okay, kiddo?" Deeks asked his already low voice pitched even softer.
"No migraine," he replied only to wince as a car horn went off outside, "Yet."
Leaning forward Deeks pressed a kiss to his head before standing up and moving to the window to shut the curtain cutting off sunlight. That was another thing that he hated about migraines. The lack of sun. He was a California boy through and through. Cutting him off from the sun was like cutting off his oxygen. He couldn't find it in him to argue though.
"I'm okay," Wes signed when his dad turned around again, "That hurt, but my head doesn't hurt anymore than it already did."
"That doesn't really make me feel better, kiddo," his dad replied making his way back over and offering his hand, "Why don't you try taking a nap? I'll come and check on you in an hour or so to make sure you don't fall into a mini coma again."
"You're not going to let that go, are you? It only happened once and I was sugar crashing hard."
"No, I'm not letting it go. Sugar crash or not you slept for twelve hours straight that day. Clary almost had a panic attack thinking you died."
"She's always been dramatic."
"Guess that's why she's your best friend. Come on, nap time."
Knowing that it was for the best Wes took the older mans hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. It took a moment for him to feel steady before he was willing to let go, but once he did he felt his body sag. He hadn't realized just how tired he was. Suddenly a nap sounded like the best plan he had ever heard.
"I'll see you in a couple of hours, okay?" Dad asked stopping at his door to look at him.
"Sounds good," Wes signed with a smile, "And thanks."
"I'm always here if you need me. Get some sleep. I'm going to try to figure out dinner."
"Maybe veggie stir-fry?"
"With extra baby corn. I'll text Papa to grab some on his way home. Sleep well."
As soon as the door closed Wes let out a sigh forcing himself not to fall back onto the bed. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, but he knew if he didn't change out of his school clothes he'd never get comfortable which would make him frustrated which would make him feel even worse than he already did. Which was saying something.
At the same time though, there was a small part of him that wanted to forget about trying to sleep altogether. Yes, he'd end up feeling worse than he already did, but at least then he'd know how to deal with what was going on. It wouldn't feel as if he was trying to walk on a tightrope between sanity and an all consuming darkness.
It was the in-between feeling that always came when he was on the cusp of having a migraine that always got to him the most. He was an all or nothing type of guy and knowing that a migraine was coming and still feeling fairly normal messed with his head more than a little. That wasn't even taking into account how difficult migraines were to deal with in and of themselves!
They didn't confuse him though. He got too overloaded from outside stimuli and his brain forced him to walk away from it. That was all. It wasn't a hard concept for him to understand when it was laid out like that. It might suck because he couldn't really control when his brain decided that things were too much, but he understood it and that was enough.
The times right before it got to be too much though. He never got the hang of figuring out what he was supposed to do. The aches that racked through his body, the way the sun made him flinch away, the grating nature of noises he normally loved hearing, the nausea that made it difficult for him to even drink water. None of them were subtle hints that he needed to walk away for a moment and yet he still froze every time.
Something that didn't make any sense, even to himself. Right here, right now, he could stop the pain from getting to be too much to handle. He even knew exactly how to it. He and his parents had worked out a plan with his doctor when they first noticed the migraines becoming a thing. Which had actually been really fun to do. Writing out plans was one of his favorite things to do.
The problem came in when it was time to follow said plan. It wasn't that he forgot what he was supposed to do. He had written it down a few times so he was well aware of everything. The problem came in with him doing it. Identifying what was going on and just doing it. It shouldn't be that difficult, but he just really sucked at it.
"Come on, Wes," he muttered to himself as he pulled his shirt over his head, "Just lay down and go to sleep. It's not that hard. You do it every night."
As soon as he said that he wanted to laugh. Everyone was well aware how bad he was at falling asleep. Even on his best day it took hours of telling himself to stop doing whatever it was he was doing and sleep. He could be absolutely bored and he'd still be staring at the same thing for hours on end wishing he could go to sleep and still not do that. It was a mess.
Which wasn't to say he didn't enjoy sleep. He loved sleep. It was getting his brain to shut off long enough that he was really bad at. His brain was constantly running around in circles searching for something, anything, to grab a hold of. Idea after idea popped in and out of his head before he could ever really figure out what it was he was thinking half the time.
He wasn't trying to go to sleep though. He wanted to take a nap. There wasn't really a difference between going to bed and taking a nap, but somehow it felt like there was. He had tried to explain it to Clary once, but both of them realized fairly quickly that it made no sense at all. Given the rest of his life though he chose to to ignore that fact. It wasn't like it was hurting anyone if he didn't understand it. As long as he learned how to live his life with the little things that he did than everything was fine.
In this case, that meant taking naps. He would never be able to praise naps highly enough. They were wonderful creations that save him from total insanity after he spent a little too much time ignoring his body telling him that he was supposed to be sleeping. He was really bad at listening to his body's warnings. Not that any of that really matter at the moment. Because he wasn't trying to go to bed. He was trying to take a nap. It shouldn't be that hard.
Shaking his head slowly so not to make his head hurt worse Wes stripped out of the last of his clothes and quickly changed into a pair of sweats before climbing under his blankets. A sigh fell from his lips at the soft weight encompassing him. Convincing Papa to buy him a weighted blanket was one of the best things he had ever done.
Letting his eyes slip shut Wes curled up tightly pulling the blankets tightly around him until he was practically swaddled. He had done the hard part. He was under his blankets and now the only thing that was left was shutting his brain off so he could sleep. Well, that or making sure his brain stayed on one topic instead of jumping around.
Once again he found himself missing Izzy. For as not cuddly as she was he knew she would have already joined him in his room as soon as she found out he wasn't feeling well. She probably wouldn't have climbed into bed with him, but she would have sat at his desk either typing away on her laptop or scribbling in a notebook. Just letting him know that he wasn't alone.
Those were the times when he felt the most thankful that he had the family he did. He knew that there were a lot of small, annoying things he did that could set off people easily. There were even a few times when Clary got frustrated enough that she had to walk away from him. He couldn't blame her either. There were times he wanted to walk away from himself.
He could still remember how things had been when he was younger and they were trying to figure out who he was as a person. He couldn't count the amount of times he got in trouble for things that he didn't really understand. Especially since some of them were things that he only got in trouble for because of what time it was. It made no sense.
Papa had been the first one to notice that things weren't working for him. The rules that had made sense for Izzy just seemed to pull him down until he no longer felt like himself. Every time he got in trouble it felt like a thin piece of gauze was placed over his eyes. He could still see fine. Until the next piece was add. And the next piece. And the next. Until he felt like he was blinded from the world.
Dad always said it was lucky that he had such a big personality. That if he hadn't changed so drastically practically overnight than it was possible they wouldn't have noticed before it was too late for them to find a different way.
He knew that wasn't the truth though. He didn't change overnight. If he did it would have been Dad or Izzy that noticed what was going on with him. It was the fact that Papa was gone a long back in those days that saved him. To him the change was drastic. To everyone else, Wes included, the changes were so subtle it almost felt like nothing had changed at all.
Papa had noticed though. He had seen that something was wrong and had sat everyone in the family down asking all of them what was working and what wasn't in the dynamics they had gone on. It felt nice that he had pulled in everyone so it didn't feel like he was the only one that was messing things up.
That was the first time he really remembered sitting down with Papa and having a heart to heart. Back then he had been too busy. It was normally Dad that took care of that. He was more than a little thankful though. It didn't matter who it was that started the whole conversation. The fact that it happened was all he really cared about.
It did bring up a few questions though. Ones that he both wanted answered and really didn't care about. Which was odd considering how much he loved getting answers to things. Especially things that had to do with him or the people he cared about. Knowing who they were and that they were okay was something that was close to his heart. He loved knowing that they trusted him enough to tell him whatever they wanted.
Still, for as much as he didn't care, there were points in time when he found himself wondering how different things would be for him if he had never been adopted. If his mother hadn't been killed that day. If it had been someone other than his papa that had found him. If… there were so many 'what if' questions. So many things that he didn't care about, yet could never fully walk away from.
It was a rabbit hole of questions that would never been answered. His mother was dead and no one had come to the hospital when he was born saying they were his family. There was no one around that really cared about him. At least not from his birth family. And it had been sixteen years. If they cared they would have shown up already.
Oddly enough it didn't really bother him all that much. Yes, it would be nice to have some answers to questions that popped into his mind periodically and it did sting a bit at the idea that a family could just walk away without a look back. He did not envy the pain that his mother must have gone through when she was pregnant with him.
In the end though, he loved the family he had. He wouldn't change them for anything. It didn't matter that he didn't have the blond hair that the rest of them had or the blue eyes. It didn't matter that he didn't share blood with any of them. It didn't matter that there had been a time when kids picked on him for being adopted. It never had to be.
His parents had never hidden the fact that he wasn't their son by blood. As soon as he could understand the concept they told him everything. They had spent hours answering every question that popped into his mind. A lot of which were just the same questions over and over. The end result was always the same.
They reminding him that they chose to have him in their family. That they loved him with all of their heart. That a found family was sometimes stronger than any blood relation. He couldn't change the life he had. He couldn't bring his mother back from the dead to tell him things others took for granted and he had to be okay with that. His Papa had taught him that.
There were points in time when he really was surprised by the life his parents lived and that was without knowing the whole story. Papa was a little more open than Dad about his past. Not that he could blame either of them. From the little he did know their lives had not been easy. Still they turned out to be the best parents a guy could ask for and he didn't even have to ask! They had wanted him. They had picked him.
Even with all of that in his mind though he felt a little bit of guilt for feeling that way. At least when he thought about his mother. Papa had told him the story of everything that had happened that day and it never failed to bring tears to his eyes knowing that she had loved him as much as she did. That she had been dying and still cared about him.
Opening his eyes Wes reached out to his nightstand and pulled a framed collage Aunt Nell and Uncle Eric got him closer. It was filled with random photos of their family over the years. Near the middle though was one of his mother. A woman he had never met yet meant more to him than he could ever say. It was odd to feel so much love for a person that wasn't even in his life.
He did love her though. Every time he looked at the photo he couldn't help it. Maybe it was because she had the same eyes as him. Having that sage green staring back at him filled him with so much love and confusion. It was a feeling that he had never fully been able to explain. Luckily, Papa had been able to understand what he had wanted to say even if he didn't know exactly what to say.
At the same time he felt like he never wanted to know more about his mother. The idea of meeting her and having her not loving him as much as he loved her terrified him. He wanted to believe that the love she felt for him before he was born would be the same love for him that she would feel now that he was a teen.
Sighing softly Wes placed the photo down and rolled over so he was facing the wall. He really didn't want to fall down that train of thoughts anymore than he already was. There was no point in it. He had to force himself to remember that. Nothing good would come from it and he knew it, but maybe… Maybe he could convince Clary to go visit her grave with him. He'd never been before.
Closing his eyes once more he started to count his breathing. In on one, out on two. Over and over until he started to feel tired. It wasn't the best way to fall asleep, but at least his mind had something other to do than wonder off making stories that got so fantastic that he'd rather be in them than sleeping. Now he just had to lay there until his brain decided it had done enough. Just a waiting game.