Yo, friends. This update is crazy quick but I had the idea in my head so I put it down.
I already have three reviews? Whaaaaat! Thanks a lot dudes.
TW for panic attack and flash back to abuse.
George Washington nervously fiddled with the end of his tie, he was sat on the dark leather sofa in the lounge, next to his wife.
It was around twenty past nine and Alexander was due at the house in just under ten minutes. Next to him his wife Martha nervously patted her hair and adjusted her suit, causing George to smile, humoured.
"Martha, this fifteen year old isn't going to care whether you've got a stray hair or not, everything's going to be okay."
To be honest, George was trying to convince himself of this too. The file they had received on the boy was brief but nevertheless worrying.
He had been moved through around nine foster homes in the three years he had been in the system and the notes in his file reported physical violence and the tendency towards fighting with previous foster parents.
Accompanied with this information was a small photograph of a thin looking teen with huge dark eyes and a wary face, hollowed cheeks and long hair.
Martha had looked at him anxiously when they had first seen the photo, wondering what kind of boy they had agreed to take in, however, there was something about the his posture, or maybe it was his eyes, that told George he shouldn't judge him by his cover, or the file that had been given to them.
They sat for another few minutes before the sound of a car slowing down outside met their ears and a few moments later, the doorbell rang.
They hastened towards the hallway, George taking Martha's hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. Martha smiled and together they stepped into the porch and opened the door.
The first thing that struck George about Alexander was his eyes, like in the photo they were huge and wary, but the anxiety in them seemed to be multiplied tenfold.
His shoulders were shaking and although he seemed to be trying his harderst to conceal his obvious fear, his posture was stiff and tense.
George smiled as kindly as possible and introduced himself to the teen and his social worker.
George extended his hand to the boy, trying to appear stern but gentle. He might have imagined it but the boy seemed to flinch and shrink away from George, but a moment later seemed to steal himself into the handshake.
Looking down at their hands, George noticed that when the sleeve of Alex's hoodie slipped back a ring of nasty looking bruises circled his wrist and his knuckles looked red and sore, as though he had been biting them, or punching someone. Maybe both.
He sighed internally and glanced at Martha who seemed not to have noticed, although concern was clear in her eyes.
The social worker smiled politely and greeted the Washingtons, telling them he was due in New York soon, giving Alexander a sharp look and excusing himself.
Alex, if it was possible, seemed to grow more anxious and was eyeing George's impressive height and admittedly intimidating muscles.
In that moment George realised then it would probably be best if he excused himself to the lounge while Martha brought the kid to his room. George had the best intentions but he cursed his 6"3 stature and broad chest for the first time.
Martha was speaking kindly to Alexander and pointed towards the stairs, evidently offering to show the boy to his room.
"I hope you'll forgive me Alexander," Washington apologised, "Introductions have been rather rushed tonight."
Alex had jumped at his words and was now nodding nervously, the panic in his eyes dimming slightly as he started up the stairs behind Martha.
"Good night Alexander." Smiled George.
"G'night..." He muttered in response before turning the corner onto the landing upstairs.
George turned into the lounge and sat back down on the couch, waiting for Martha to return back downstairs.
He mulled over the events of the last few minutes in his mind. The bruises on Alex's wrists and the way he flinched at the slightest movement. He wondered whether the injuries he had were simply from a school yard brawl or something more sinister.
George pushed these thoughts from his mind, not wanting to ponder any further the obvious signs of what he didn't want to accept had happened to boy.
He was only waiting a few moments for Martha as she returned quickly from showing Alexander his room.
When she came down again he immediately noted a disheartened expression on her face. He raised an eyebrow and she explained.
"It's my fault I suppose, I gave him hug and he panicked, he flinched and stiffened up, for a moment up was worried he would have a panic attack. He seems polite though, a nice boy. He calls us Mr. and Mrs. Washington, we'll have to ask him to call us something else tomorrow, Mr. and Mrs seems far too formal."
Martha smiled sadly and continued, "I almost would rather he was aggressive or irritable. It upsets me to know he's been conditioned to act this way."
George grasped her shoulder sympathetically, "I don't want to... I don't want to upset things further, but I noticed something when I shook his hand just then."
Martha drew a sharp breath and remained silent, signalling George to continue.
"Well, it's just that I saw his sleeve slip back and he's got bruises all around his wrist, nasty ones. As if someone grabbed him pretty forcefully there. I think he noticed me starting and he seemd pretty defensive about it."
Martha looked into her lap and nodded.
"I suspected something like that, I just hope that's the only injury he's sustained. At least he's with us now."
George nodded and took her hand in his, "well if there's any one who could care for Alexander, it's you Martha. We just have to help him."
Martha smiled and pecked him on the cheek, later in bed she thought about what George had said and hoped to God it would turn out to be true.
Alex was engulfed in a cloud of warmth and comfort. He didn't want to leave this, tightly wrapped in soft sheets and bedding. But it was getting tighter, and tighter.
Hang on, a minute ago he was comfortable. Now he couldn't breath. God, no, he was going to suffocate here. His chest was tightening and his eyes were glued shut.
Oh God, oh God.
Then cold tiles were pressed against his back and his head was being lifted of the floor and slammed into the wall. A voice echoed far away above him, a diatribe of insults penetrating his distant ears.
"Stupid. Insolent. Whore's son. Immigrant!"
He watched the plaster in the wall crack and suddenly it was collapsing, breaking down and englufing him in a cloud of back dust as he heard the laughing of his foster father in the distance.
He woke up on the floor beside a bed in an unfamiliar room, panting and his forehead damp.
A yell had just left his throat as he jerked into consciousness and he hoped to God no one had heard him. He glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. 4:49 AM
Shit. They were going to be so angry, so, so angry if he woke them.
Alex waited on the floor shivering, anticipating foot steps hurrying along the hallway, the harbinger of pain.
And then he heard them.
Footsteps were rushing towards his door and Alex struggled to get to his feet as an anxious knocking sounded from the other side of his door.
He winced and called shakingly out to whoever it was, "you can come in. I'm fine, really."
The door was pushed open instantly and Alex backed into the corner of his room as George Washington rushed in, his eyes still bleary with sleep but displaying an emotion Alex wrongly interpreted as anger.
Oh God, oh God. You've messed up already you absolute- he's going to punish you now and you deserve it. Good luck, this dude is probably twice the size of Pace and you know what happened to you with him.
You're in for it now.
Alex couldn't breath. As Mr Washington jogged across the room to him he sank down into a crouch on the tips of his feet and let out what could have been called a whimper.
"Please, I- I'm so sorry. I won't do this again, please don't hurt me, I'm sorry."
Alex's breathing quickened and a second later he was hyperventilating, his eyes clamped shut.
Mr Washington stood there, dumbfounded and saddened, shocked at what Alexander had thought he was about to do.
He slowly sank down and knelt next to the boy, not daring to touch him and being careful not to make any sudden movements.
"Son, I-"
He was cut off as Alex sucked in harsh breath and whimpered louder this time.
George started again, not realising the affect his term of address had had, repeating the pronoun.
"Son, I'm not going to hurt you. You've done nothing wrong."
Alex flinched again at the word but slowly made eye contact with George. His breathing still laboured and harsh.
"Count with me Alex, okay?
One, two, three, four five."
Alex let out a shaky breath and started to count.
"Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One, two, three, four, five..."
They continued like that for one more, long minute until Alex's breathing could pass for something near normal.
Again he apologised, "Mr. Washington sir, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You can leave now. I'm sorry."
Mr Washington sighed again and for one awful moment, Alex thought he ws about to hit him. He shrank away and Mr. Washington spoke.
"I don't hurt children, Alexander. I don't hurt anyone who has done nothing wrong."
Alex was in shock. It was ten minutes to five in the morning, he had forced this man to wake up, on a week day and he had made him to stay with him because he'd had a stupid panic attack. And this man wasn't going to hit him?
Wow, you're pretty messed up aren't you. You just expect pain. Weird if you ask me. I guess you deserve it right now though. Maybe you actually liked all that happened in the last house.
Alex kicked the voice out of his mind and nodded dimly, making sure to take long, deep breaths.
"What happened, if you don't mind telling me, son."
Alex looked at Washington and choked out ,"call me Alex..."
Washington smiled and nodded. "Well, in that case Alex, I'm going to have to insist you call me George, and my wife Martha."
Alex nodded and spoke again.
"I just had a nightmare, you don't need to worry about it. I get them on the reg anyway, my last home called them night terrors but in my opinion that makes them sound worse than they are. In my group home I took meds but they didn't do much. I didn't mean to wake you or anything, I only yelled because I fell onto the floor."
Will you shut up Alex, SHUT UP, no one cares, just do yourself a favour and spare him the lecture.
But the words just poured out of his mouth like they always did, tumbling over each other and pushing to get out of his mouth.
"It's not like it even hurt that bad or anything, the carpet here is so soft anyway. In one home I had a bunk bed, that didn't work out so well, as you can imagine. Normally it's not too bad, I've learnt to deal with them. Plus I-"
George held out his hand Alex gulped, sure he had crossed the line this time, sure he was going to be hit, sure his social worker would have to pick him up in an hour, set him a new record of the quickest stay in a foster home.
Son, you don't need to explain yourself to me, it's alright. I understand."
This almost made him snap but he held his tongue and drew in a deep breath instead.
"Alex?"
"It's nothing, really, just... well, I prefer Alex over son... As long as that's okay, I'm not demanding or anything... sorry."
George smiled and nodded his head, his expression amused.
"Of course Alex, slip of the tongue. I'll call you whatever you want." He put extra emphasis on the boy's name.
Alex couldn't help but shudder.
'Can you call me Alex sir?' he stuttered, glancing up at Pace. "I just don't really like son.'
Pates placed a well aimed kick into Alex's left side and smiled as the boy doubled over in pain and heard a satisfying crack.
Before he left the room he turned back to the boy.
'Put some ice on that, son. Wouldn't want anyone having to see that.'
Alex learnt not to demand things after that.
George looked at the teen concernedly but chose to let it go.
"So, is there any chance of you getting back to sleep?"
Alex sighed a sigh and shook his head. He knew after a nightmare his sleep would be fractured or pretty much non-existent.
"It's okay, I can shower and wait here until it's a more reasonable hour."
"Nonsense," scoffed George, "shower and come downstairs. You can have an early breakfast if you'd like and I have a copy of the New York Times being delivered in fifteen."
A warmth filled his chest at the unexpected kindness of this man but the nagging voice in the back of his mind told him not to be indebted by other people's kindness. Nothing was ever free and there was always a price to pay.
He shook these thoughts away and smiled, nodding at George's suggestion.
"Okay, shower and I'll see you in fifteen, Alex."
The teen scrambled to his feet and nodded, walking hurriedly towards the shower as though he'd been issued a command.
"Take your time Alex." George smiled, and Alex slowed little, grinning sheepishly.
Fifteen minutes later he was walking down the stairs towards the kitchen were he assumed George would be at this hour.
He had showered with just water, not having any soap in the bag of essentials he had been given. He thought it was a pretty shit bag of essentials.
Unfortunately, the only clothes he had were the ones he had worn the night before and to bed, though had a few more pairs of socks and underwear.
Thankfully he was pretty thin so his body didn't need to sweat to keep him cool. In fact, his main priority was to stay warm during the day.
That was a messed up thing to be thankful for, he mused.
George was fully dressed now, out of the grey sweats and vest he had slept in. He wasn't wearing work clothes however and instead had donned a button down and jeans.
Nice, expensive looking jeans, Alex noted bitterly. He got his clothes in thrift shops and the lost and found bins in his old school. This man probably shopped at fucking bespoke tailors.
George looked up as he entered the kitchen and frowned.
"You wore that to bed didn't you, and last night."
"I- uh, I guess yeah." Alex stuttered quietly, embarrassed by his lack of clothes.
"Don't worry about it, we'll get you some new clothes today." George smiled.
Alex's head reeled at this. This level of generosity was more than he was accustomed to and he couldn't imagine anyone going to so much trouble over him.
There was still that nagging voice in his mind that told him this was all a trap and he couldn't trust these people. Unfortunately, as of yet, Alex couldn't quite dismiss these thoughts.
Hey! That ending was kinda abrupt but I'm about to get a boat and I'm in a restaurant now waiting. I wanted to post something quick for you guys! Review and follow if you'd like (:
