Idk what this is. Just realized there's not really a fic like this besides "Behind Brady" by Midnight Lavender. Shoutout to them for the Inspo. If you notice the CAOS reference too, lemme know haha. A/N at the bottom if you care. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Beach Movie, Teen Beach 2, or any characters in said movies that you may recognize. I only own Jeremy and Lisa. I also don't own any dialogue you may recognize.

WARNINGS: mentions and slight descriptions of child abuse


The waves were at an all-time high. It smelled of saltwater and seaweed. The sun was beaming through the clouds. But the girl sitting next to him was beaming even brighter.

He couldn't help but ogle her in admiration. The way her hair blew in the wind, her lips pursed as she focused on waiting for the perfect wave to ride, her eyelashes long and luscious, and how her eyes twinkled when she saw a good opportunity to go for it.

She turned to him with a huge smile, breaking him out of his trance.

"Let's go!" She exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her into the water.

He laughs as she paddles further out into the ocean, doing the same himself. They enjoy the weather and the smell of the salt and the view of the sunset and each other's company as they surf until the sun goes down.

When they come back out to shore, they're laughing.

"I told you that the perfect waves would come!" Mack exclaims, reaching to hold onto her boyfriend's arm.

Brady rolls his eyes playfully at the girl at his side.

"I was the one who taught you when to hit the waves."

She nods, "I know, but aren't you proud of me for remembering and showing you the ropes as if you hadn't been the one to teach me?"

He nods and nudges her shoulder with his.

"You did awesome, babe."

Deciding that was a good answer, Mack hums in response and turns to look forward again as they reach the steps leading up to her grandfather's surfboard shop.

What they didn't expect to see was a note on the workshop table and Mack's grandpa nowhere in sight. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she releases her hold on Brady, leaning her surfboard against the wall and walking over to pick up the note.

Mack,

I went out to get supplies. We were out of wax and I needed a new screwdriver. Just stocking up. Foods in the fridge, but not much. Do what you can with that's there.

Love you,

Gramps

"Well," Brady says, leaning against the door frame, "what's up?"

This startles Mack, as she had momentarily forgotten he was there. She just shrugs, setting the note down and taking a few steps over to him.

"Grandpa went to the store. We have some time alone, if you wanna..." she trails off, running her hands under her boyfriend's rash guard.

He shivers in excitement, and leans in to kiss her when his phone decides to ring. He groans, pulling it from his swim trunks and looking at the caller ID.

Mack notices a visible change in his face as he looks at the screen. She sees his eyes go from light to dark and his smile turn into a frown, and she worries.

"Is everything okay?" She asks softly.

He nods wordlessly, then swallows and presses answer. When he puts his phone up to his ear, he flinches at the harsh tone of his father speaking on the other end.

Mack wants to keep stroking her fingers over his beautiful, toned abs as he talks to whoever he's on the phone with - just to tease and annoy the hell out of him - but something tells her that she probably shouldn't. Especially not considering how.. frightened.. he seemed when he saw who was calling. And she pretends she didn't see his tiny flinch before he mutters a small, "Hey dad. Yeah, I'm with Mack right now," by glancing over his shoulder.

Didn't I tell you that she's a bad influence on you, son?

Brady exhales, trying to work up his confidence.

"Yeah, you did. I'm sorry."

He doesn't want to say anything that will make his girlfriend suspicious, although he's aware of his tendencies to wear his heart on his sleeve, so he's not sure that will help anything.

Sorry doesn't cut it. Look, your mother will be home soon and I need to let out some steam. Tell your pretty little girlfriend that you have some shit to do. I don't give a fuck what you tell her, just come home.

Mack watches him worriedly as he stares blankly at the wall across the room. His eyes had darkened significantly in the last 30 seconds, and she's almost glad that she has her hand on his chest still, because she can feel his breath quicken. This doesn't help her nerves at all.

"Yes, sir. I'll be home soon."

She also notices how forced his last three words were.

"I love you."

With that, he hangs up the phone and turns to her, his eyes immediately lightening again. Not as much as before, but she notices the difference.

"Sorry, my dad wants me home. I have to cook dinner-"

She waves a hand dismissively, effectively cutting him off.

"It's okay. I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nods with a small smile, leaning down to place a soft peck on her lips. Mack relishes in the feeling as she watches him turn away and run out of the shop.

She sighs, looking over at his surfboard, which he rested next to her's.

It's no secret to her that Brady didn't have the best relationship with his parents, or at least, she thought didn't. He never talked about them, nor did he invite them to any surfing competitions he entered, and Mack had never met them. She knows his address, but she's never been to his house or seen what his mother looks like, even. She swears that she's seen his father, though; there was a man at the market who looked creepily similar to her favorite blonde - with pepper blonde hair, the same facial structure, even down to the way he held himself when he walked. But Brady just denied it, saying that his mother did all the shopping.

But that phone call really made her question what exactly happens at home. The way his eyes darkened and he tensed up just seeing his father's name on the screen made her worry. She had never seen him answer one of his parent's phone calls, believe it or not. A whole 3 months together and he never answered a call when he was with her. Something about respect. Either way, this set her on edge.


Finally at his doorstep, Brady rests his hands on his knees and leans over, catching his breath. That was the fastest he had ever run to his house. Ever. He just hoped he was quick enough.

But when he opens his door and is greeted with an oh so friendly slap to the face, he knows that no; he wasn't quick enough.

He glares at his father as he steps further into the house, making sure to close the door behind him. Once the door is shut, he turns to the man and waits for further instruction.

A few moments pass. Brady almost dares to ask if he should start cooking dinner, but keeps his mouth shut. He knows better than to speak before spoken to.

"Go wait for me in my bedroom. Shirt off."

His father walks into the living room without another word, sitting down on the couch and turning his attention to the TV.

With a sharp inhale, Brady does as he is told. He makes a beeline straight to his parents bedroom and gingerly takes off his rash guard, making sure to avoid eye contact with his reflection in the mirror nearby. Then he turns to face the wall opposite of the door and leans over to put his hands on the bed, spreading his legs a shoulder length apart.

It's about 10 minutes - although he's not counting (yes he is) - before he hears heavy footsteps getting closer. The small clinking of metal is heard faintly behind him. He braces himself, closing his eyes tightly and biting his bottom lip to keep from screaming.

The strike comes quicker than expected, and Brady can't help but let a small yelp of pain escape the space between his lips.

He hears the man behind him grunt as he brings the belt down on his bare back once again, this time even harder.

The blonde teen is successfully able to stifle his cries as the monster hovering above him continues to "blow off his steam." He holds out for as long as he can, letting his dad whip him over and over again until his anger is gone - although he's sure that it never really will be.

When he hears the front door creak open and a woman's voice call out, "Honey, I'm home!" in a teasing manner, he breathes a sigh of relief. His father clears his throat and replies, "I'll be right out! Just changing pants!"

The man puts his belt back on, while Brady leans over and grabs his shirt from the floor, hissing in pain. He puts it on quickly, turning around to face his father, seeing his eyes already on him.

"When I say come home, I mean instantly," he says with a low growl in his voice. Then he walks out of the room, leaving Brady alone in his bedroom.

He just stands there, listening to his parents joke and laugh in the kitchen, wishing he could join in. But he knows that his dad would be sending glares in his direction the entire time, just wanting some alone time with his wife. Brady did not want to endure those dirty looks until absolutely necessary - which comes sooner than usual because instead of cooking dinner, his mother brought home pasta from the local Italian restaurant.

"Brady, sweetie, dinner is ready!" His mom says in a terrible Italian accent, and he can just imagine her doing the hand gesture to go along with it. He smiles at this thought, shaking his head at how goofy she can be.

After a deep breath, Brady walks into his dining room and smiles at his mother.

"Hey, mom."

"Hi baby! So, how was your day?" She urges, taking a seat.

Brady keeps his smile as thinks about the amazing day he's had with Mack.

"It was awesome. Mack and I went out for lunch and then we went to the beach by her grandpa's surf shop, then we hit the waves for a little bit."

Brady's mother, Lisa, watched in awe as her son rambled on about his day with his favorite girl. She knew that his love for her was strong - she felt the same way about her husband - and loved the smile that appeared on his face whenever he thought or talked about her. Lisa just couldn't wait to meet this girl.

"That sounds great, honey. I'd really like to meet her one day!"

Brady blushes slightly and shakes his head, grabbing a forkful of the pasta from the big takeout dish in the middle of the table.

"Maybe eventually. I just want to make sure we're really serious before she meets you guys. Don't want to get you too excited when we've only been dating for 3 months," he tells her.

And he wasn't entirely lying. Those three months with her has made him feel invincible; he feels like he can breathe when she's around. He doesn't get to breathe much at home - if you can even call it a home.

One part he did leave out was that he didn't want to scare Mack away. His father can be terrifying, even when others are around. Brady just doesn't want his girlfriend to get hurt, is all. By letting his father take out his anger on him, he's protecting his mother, and if he can help it, his girlfriend too.

He glances up from his plate, realizing he hadn't been eating anything, but staring at the food in front of him. Quickly, he takes a bite and swallows, glancing at his father across the table.

The man in question sends a hard glare his way before softening his face and looking to his wife as she starts talking animatedly about the new marketing strategy for the business she works for. Not wanting to seem rude, Brady also looks to his mother, trying to listen to her story.

"And then my boss told me that it was a great idea! He set up a meeting with a town hall representative for tomorrow!"

Brady smiles at the woman. She really loves what she does, and he only wishes he could be like her someday.

"Congrats, honey," his father says, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Thanks, Jeremy," she says with a grin.

"Proud of you, mom," Brady says with a genuine smile. He truly is proud of her and he's glad she's happy.

Dinner continues for another ten minutes before his dad decides that he's finished. He looks over to his son with that same glare he reserves specifically for him, to which Brady jumps up out of his seat immediately.

"You done, dad? I'll put your plate away," he says politely, already reaching out to grab his plate and stack it on top of his own.

"Baby, you don't have to do that," his mother says, "Your dad is a big boy."

If it's even possible, the glare his dad is giving him gets harsher. He just shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it? Are you finished too, mom?"

She shakes her head with a smile.

"I'm still working on it. Thank you so much sweetie, you're such a gentlemen," she compliments before turning back to her plate and taking another bite of spaghetti.

"My pleasure," he mutters before walking the plates over to the kitchen sink and washing them thoroughly.

When he walks back into the dining room, he clears his throat and softly asks, "May I be excused?"

His mom nods while his dad waves dismissively at him.

"Yeah yeah, get outta here. And get some homework done, will ya?" He says in a light joking tone.

Brady laughs nervously before saying, "Alright," and walking up the stairs of their small beach house. Once he makes it into his room, he lets out a large sigh while plopping on his bed. He's just glad that part of the night is over. Hopefully he can make it through tonight without something enraging his dad. His back still hurts from the whipping he received nearly an hour before.

Without hesitation, he closes his eyes and lets the exhaustion from the long day lull him into a deep sleep.


Mack sits at the bay window in her room, staring outside. It's mid-afternoon and she knows she should be spending this time doing homework, rather than getting stuck in dazes and lost in trains of thought, but she can't help it. Her mind wants to think about Brady.

They had such an amazing day yesterday. She doesn't know why she's so on edge. Except she does. That phone call.

She keeps having to remind herself that she's overthinking this. His dad might have been in a bad mood and Brady could have known this, which was why he was scared to answer the phone. Simple enough. But why would he be that scared? She swore she felt him tremble under her hand, if only for a split second, but she felt it. And she swore his breathing quickened, and swore that he gulped. Mack isn't dumb; she knows when something is wrong.

Maybe it was just a one day thing, she kept repeating in her head. He never answered the phone around her any other day, so it was just a unique day. An off day.

Deciding that her brain was frying by the minute, she turned her attention to getting her schoolwork done. She let herself get lost in it, ignoring the nagging in the back of her mind saying that something is wrong.


The next morning was a Saturday, so both teens - naturally - woke up early and met at her grandpa's shop. They surf until lunch time, and decide to have a little picnic on his porch.

"Then he wants us to write a book report on it, as if we weren't only given FIVE DAYS to read it all! Ugh!" Mack puts her head in her hands, groaning in frustration.

Brady rubs small circles onto her back, hoping it will soothe her.

"Some teachers are insane," is all he says, because what else can he even say?

Mack nods miserably, scooting closer to him to lay her head on his shoulder. He wraps a protective arm around her, pulling her close.

She sighs contentedly, turning slightly to look at her boyfriend. The way he bites his bottom lip, as if he's contemplating life, how his hair blows in the gentle breeze... he looks so calm.

He turns to look down at the girl under his arm, smiling a little when he sees her gaze already on him.

"What?"

Mack shakes her head, leaning away from him and resting her hand on the wood below them to support her weight.

"You just look so calm. I like it."

He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face, as he looks toward the ocean again.

"Just thinking about stuff."

"What stuff?" She can't help but be nosey sometimes.

"Just… family," he mumbles.

Mack, startled, looks out to the ocean as well. She never thought he'd mention them. So she took the chance she had and asked.

"You never talk about your family. Mind enlightening me?" She questions, nudging him with her shoulder. She wants him to feel comfortable enough to tell her anything.

He looks at her, that small look of fear returning in his eyes, but disappearing as quickly as it came. She pretends not to notice.

"Uhm, sure. They're great, uh, my parents, I mean. I don't have any siblings, it's just the three of us. It's cool," he says vaguely, not wanting to give any information away.

Mack nods, a bit disappointed at how little he told her, but at the same time, she didn't expect him to say much about them.

She hesitates.

"Um, when your dad called yesterday," she starts, watching as his eyes darken. Swallowing her nerves, she continues. "You seemed a bit…um…" she couldn't find the right word.

Brady, although mentally exhausted and scared of what she was going to say next, chuckled.

"Nervous?" He suggests.

She nods and just decides to blurt it out.

"And a bit scared. I swear you tensed up when you answered the phone. Is everything alright between you two?"

After a moment of hesitation, he nods, disconnecting his eyes from hers' to look down at her necklace.

"We're fine. He just gets a bit intense sometimes, like when he's in a bad mood. It just wasn't one of his good days," he half-lies.

Mack purses her lips as he tells her this, scrutinizing his body language. His breath hitches in between each sentence and his eyes dart around rapidly, almost as if he's looking for a way to get out. She notices that he's wringing his hands together, as well, which she knows is a nervous habit. And this time, instead of pretending like she doesn't notice, she says something.

"Are you sure? I think there's more to it."

His head whips up to look at her as if he had forgotten she was sitting right next to him, and he firmly nods his head.

"Yep. He was just in a mood and wanted me to make dinner."

She sighs frustratedly and sends him a glare, which he shrinks under.

"Don't lie to me."

He shakes his head, "I'm not lying, Mack."

"Yes you are. I'm not dumb, I know something's up. So just tell me, Brady!"

"Everything is fine!" He raises his voice at her. She recoils.

Immediately, he feels guilty. The last thing he wants to do is scare off the one person who makes him truly happy. She doesn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry for raising my voice," he mumbles quietly, looking down at his hands.

Mack shakes her head.

"It's okay, babe. What's not okay is you not being able to tell me the truth. Please just tell me if anything is going on-"

"My dad and I don't necessarily get along, okay?"

She shuts up and listens to what he has to say, knowing this might be the most she'll ever get out of him.

A few moments of his heavy breathing pass before he continues, "We argue and fight and my mom knows nothing about it because they love each other and I don't want to mess that up. And the last thing either of us want is to upset her."

"What kinds of things do you disagree on?" She asks softly.

"He thinks I shouldn't be spending all my time surfing. He wants me to be an intern for the company my mom works for. She's a marketing agent, and she's pretty damn good at it. Better than I would ever be. When I tell him that, he gets really mad, and it doesn't end well."

"Lots of yelling, huh?" She can sympathize with that. Her parents fought a lot when she was younger, before her mother died. She spent a while disagreeing with her father over little things, and him sending her to her room when he needed to calm down.

He nods. "And some other stuff."

He says it so quietly that he thinks she didn't hear, so when her eyebrows raise in concern, he gulps.

"What other stuff?"

Mack is afraid that his father does more than send him to his room, based on the quiet words he just muttered.

Dismissively, Brady shrugs and looks away from her.

"Brady," she warns, her voice thick.

When he doesn't respond, she wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him close to her. He closes his eyes, hoping she doesn't ask any more questions.

"Brady, please," she starts and he internally groans.

"What other stuff?" She whispers this into his ear, making him shiver and pull away from her hold.

They both frown at the loss of body heat.

He takes a deep breath.

"It depends on how he's feeling. Sometimes he'll just yell, other times he'll throw stuff at me, I'll throw stuff too. And sometimes," his voice cracks, "when he gets really angry, he'll…" He trails off, unable to complete his sentence.

Mack is on the edge of her seat, eager to know more. She's concerned for her boyfriend.

"He'll what? Actually, no. I don't want to know. Well, I do. I need to know. It's not bad is it? He doesn't, like, tackle you to the floor and punch you, or-"

"No. But he gets physical sometimes. Not that I don't fight him off-" he starts, trying to defend his masculinity, before she cuts him off.

"Physical how? Like he beats you up?" Mack asks incredulously.

"Yeah, but not all the time. I mean he usually just uses his belt-"

"His BELT? Brady, that-that's not, you-you can't just let him-"

"It's just how he lets out his anger! It's not a big deal!" Brady exclaims, standing up and walking to the door of her grandpa's shop.

She follows him.

"It is a big deal, Brady."

"This is why I never told you."

"How long?" His girlfriend asks him.

"A couple years, since his buddy gave him some 'anger management' advice," he responds bitterly, still not looking at her.

"I'd hate to see how his buddy treats his kids," Mack shakes her head in disgust.

Brady stops at the worksop table in front of her grandpa, sending him a fake smile.

"Hey, bud! Hey, Mack," the older man greets the young couple with a smile.

The teens mutter a small hello before he turns back to the surfboard he's waxing.

Mack puts a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder and turns him around, this time noticing his flinch at her touch.

"How often?" She asks in a low voice, not wanting her grandpa to hear them.

"Stop asking so many questions!"

He walks away from her. Again. And she follows after him. Again.

"I just don't understand why you think this is okay, Brady."

"You know Mack, I know it's not okay and it hurts like hell but I don't want to put my mom in any danger and I don't want to put you in any danger ether, so if anything, I'm protecting the both of you. So stay out of it, okay?!"

With that, he grabs his surf board and runs out to shore. Mack pouts in frustration, but also in worry. She doesn't know everything, but she knows a lot more than she did before. All she is aware of is that his dad is an abusive asshole who likes to beat his son to let out his anger.

And she wishes she had known sooner.


Brady avoids her as much as possible for the next few days, ignoring her in the halls during school and spending more time with Devon. Whenever they lock eyes in the classroom, he looks away quickly. Mack simply sighs, hoping he'll talk to her eventually. She knows that telling her everything took a lot out of him, so she wasn't surprised when he started icing her out.

She wanted to talk to him - to get him through this, whether he wanted her to or not, and she had a feeling he'd be upset if she interfered, but she ultimately decided that his safety is too important.

Before she changes her mind, she goes over to his house some time after school has ended and stomps up the steps to his front door. Noticing that there was only one car in the driveway, she assumed that only one parent was home, since her boyfriend didn't have a car of his own; he just rode his bike everywhere. She knew that Brady was inside, and she could only imagine what was going on behind that door. She takes a deep breath and knocks three times.

After a couple seconds, a tall man opens the door. She inhales sharply and takes in his appearance.

He looks to be in his mid-40s. He has pepper blonde hair, his eyes were a dark shade of brown, and he holds a glare on her as she stares at him. Eventually, she realizes that she hasn't said anything, so she shakes out of her trance and offers him a smile.

"Hi, are you Brady's father?" She asks politely.

He nods, confused, about to turn around and yell for his son, when she stops him.

"I'm Mack, his girlfriend. Um, I didn't really come to see him. Is his mom here? Brady told me that she wants to meet me…" she bites her lip nervously. That was a lie. He never told her anything like that, especially considering they hadn't talked for two days, but she assumed his mother was more personable than his dad. She hoped.

Brady's father shakes his head, opening the door wider.

"She won't be home for a couple more hours, but why don't you come in and hang out with him? Maybe you and I could get to know each other, as well," he smirks at her.

She feels shivers run down her spine, but she swallows and nods.

"That sounds fine, thank you Mr.-"

"You can call me Jeremy, kid. I'm not that formal."

"Obviously," she mutters under her breath as she follows him into the living room, looking at her surroundings. "Alright, Jeremy."

"Brady! Your girlfriend is here! COME DOWNSTAIRS!" He yells, startling Mack. She sits on the couch and starts bouncing her leg nervously. He's gonna be SO mad.

Upstairs, Brady is laying down on his bed with his eyes closed, no clothes on except for his underwear, breathing heavily. His father was not in a good mood today, and he went harder on him than he had in a while. He could still feel the stings from the whip on the back of his thighs and his back, and he had a major headache. He groans in pain.

"Brady! Your girlfriend is here! COME DOWNSTAIRS!" He hears his father scream.

"Shit."

He sits up painfully and rushes to get his shirt and pants back on while simultaneously yelling, "Be right there!" He runs to the bathroom, grabs his mother's makeup bag, and puts foundation on his arms and legs as fast as humanly possible. He's so glad that him and his mom have nearly the same skin complexion.

Then he runs downstairs and stops at the bottom step, looking at his girlfriend with a look that says, what are you doing here? and glancing back at his father. His dad just shakes his head and walks past him, shoulder-checking him on his way up the stairs. Brady shuts his eyes tight, tilting his head to the side in pain, before walking over to his girlfriend.

Mack smiles nervously at him. "Don't be mad. You did give me your address."

He just licks his lips and nods, moving to sit next to her.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours before Mack speaks up.

"So… how are you?"

Brady chuckles at her attempt at a conversation.

"Not great. You?"

She shrugs.

"You've been avoiding me," she says.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

She sighs, "What happened today? Before I got here?"

He looks to the stairs and then back to her again.

"What do you think?" He replies, lamely.

"I think you need to tell your mom."

"I don't think she deserves that burden."

"Well, neither do you."

"I am the burden."

"Shut up," she mutters, which makes him look at her. "You're an amazing guy, and you don't deserve to have the shit beat out of you by someone who's supposed to protect and love you."

"Mack-"

"No, listen to me. Remember what my mom wrote in her journal? She didn't want me to be pulled through life, she wanted me to march through it. So I'm doing that the best I can. And I want the same for you. You can't let your dad treat you like his personal punching bag! And he wants you to go into business, which you don't want, and I know you would be much happier if you could surf all day instead of go to school. So don't let your father pull you through life. March through it yourself. I'll be here every step of the way."

His heart twists at her kind words and he cracks a small smile at her as she grabs his hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Then his eyes shift to the left before he looks back at her.

"We shouldn't talk about this here," he says.

Mack nods in agreement. They both stand up and step outside to sit on his porch swing. A comfortable silence falls between the two.

"I wanted to talk to your mom, actually."

"That's why you came? Really?"

"Yeah," she admits, a blush rising on her cheeks. "Sorry. I just know that you won't tell her and she needs to know."

She expects him to protest - to get mad and scream at her and tell her to leave and never come back - but all he does is nod and squeeze her hand that's still resting in his.

"I know."

"So… can I talk to her about it?"

At this, he bites his lips and leans back in the swing, causing the swing to, well, swing a little. Mack just stares at him as she waits for an answer.

He shakes his head.

"I'm scared of what she'll say."

"Why?"

"There's part of me that thinks she won't believe me, then tell dad, then he'll get even angrier and it won't help anything. It might make it worse. But there's another part of me that knows she'll believe anything I say, and she'll be worried and give my dad a good talking-to. I'm scared for either of those things to happen."

She smiles sadly at him.

"Either way, she's your mom. And she sounds like an amazing woman; an amazing mother. She needs to know."

"I know."

A beat passes.

"When does she get home?" Mack asks.

"At 6," was his short response.

Mack checks the time on her phone.

"It's 4:45 right now. I'm not sure I want to leave you alone with-"

"Thanks," he smiles at her. A real, genuine smile. The smile she fell in love with when they first met 3 months ago.

They end up taking a walk on the beach, which is a pretty short walk considering his house is a beach house. Mack tries to get his mind off of things for as long as they're alone together, knowing that he doesn't want to be treated any differently just because he has daddy issues. He's not the only one - it's not like he's special or anything - in his words. She disagrees with that last statement but keeps quiet. She'll make sure he knows his worth. But maybe she needs to take a step back for now. He's telling his mother. That's a lot of stress already; she doesn't want to add any more.

Sadly, time flies and it's already 6:30. He tells her this with fear in his eyes, silently begging her don't make me do this. Mack doesn't back down, though, and soon enough they are back at his house and she's meeting his mother for the first time.

"Oh, Brady! She is so beautiful and kind! Ah!" His mother squeals to him, who Mack is still standing right next to.

"You are such a sweetie pie! Would you like to stay for dinner, honey?"

She looks to him worriedly and he gives her a pleading look. As much as she wants to spend more time with him, she also doesn't want to deal with his father. But then she remembers Brady has to deal with him every day, and Lisa (she was told to call her) was a lovely woman. Looking back to Brady's mom, she gives her a wide smile.

"Of course, Lisa."

So the young couple sat with Brady's parents, listening to his mother gush about her work adventures and dodging dirty looks from his father. Mack giggles every now and then at Lisa. She reminds her so much of her own mother.


At the end of the night, the two are on his bed. Mack is curled up against Brady's chest as he plays with her soft, brunette hair.

"When should we tell her?" Mack asks him.

He shrugs. "You're gonna have to be the one. I didn't want to in the first place."

She can't believe he's still being so nonchalant about this whole thing. She kind of understands - years of something like this could turn anyone apathetic - but she doesn't at the same time. She's confused.

"Fine."

With that one word, she sits up and flaunts out of his room, in search of the lovely woman he gets to call his mother. She's honestly kind of jealous; she misses her own mother. But never mind that - there are bigger issues at hand.

When she finds Lisa sitting on the couch in the living room cuddling with her husband, a wave of nerves comes over her. How is she going to be able to not sound weird when she asks to talk to her alone? That's not something you normally do when you meet the parents. You normally want to get away from them.

Fortunately for her, Lisa notices her standing there awkwardly and smiles, jumping up excitedly.

"Perfect timing! I was just telling Jeremy how I couldn't wait to get a moment with you so I can show you come cute pictures!" She exclaims, ushering Mack to her bedroom. The girl didn't even get to say one word (not that she's complaining. That would have been hella awkward).

When they make it to their bedroom, Mack observes her surroundings. Something in there didn't feel right to her. She tried to shake off the feeling, but couldn't. She decided to take a subtle look around as Lisa reaches up at the top of her closet to grab something.

"What did you want to show me?" She asks, hating the silence.

"Brady's baby pictures, of course! I have to embarrass my kid or I wouldn't be a mom, would I?" The middle-aged woman jokes. Mack smiles at her. She really is something, she thinks.

Glancing down at the left bedside table, her eyebrows furrow. She walks towards it, keeping her eyes on one object in particular.

A belt.

Once she's there, she inspects it thoroughly with her eyes. She's not exactly sure what she's looking for, but she just wants to make sure that it isn't the belt Jeremy had been hitting his son with. Although if it was, that would be an easy conversation opener. She's about to sigh in relief because she doesn't find any dried blood on it or anything, but then another object catches her eye. Next to the bedside table was a baseball bat, leaning against the corner wall. And she doesn't want to notice it - but she does. Her breath hitches.

The blood. His blood.

She could be wrong, but she's pretty sure that a regular, wooden baseball bat wouldn't be designed with large, smeared, red spots on the end of it. Tears pool in her eyes. She closes them tightly, pushing the unshed tears down her cheeks, and she quickly wipes them away.

"Mack, sweetie? Is everything alright?"

Now or never.

She turns to face Brady's mother and boldly shakes her head.

"No. It's not."


Brady waits patiently in his bedroom as Mack, undoubtedly, talks to his mother. To say he was scared was a understatement. He was terrified. For himself. For his mother. For Mack. He would take all the beatings and whippings in the world if they would stay safe. That's why he was so skeptical of telling his mom in the first place.

Like he told Mack, he expected one of two things. One: for his mother to not believe his claim and brush it off, or;

Two, she would believe him and things would be rocky between her and his father.

He knew either would end up in his dad getting angrier with him than he had ever been before, and he's scared shitless just thinking about what he would do if Brady did anything to "sabotage" him and his mother's relationship.

Although he has so many different expectations, one thing he definitely did NOT expect was for his father to come upstairs and barge into his room. He usually stays out of his way when friends and his mom are over. He knows he's really mad now.

Shit, I'm fucked, he realizes.

"You're really gonna get it tonight, you know that? Your mother and I were having a very lovely conversation but then that rat showed up and took her away from me. You little shit. You little, pathetic piece of-" he raises his fist at him, and he braces for contact when-

"DON'T LAY A HAND ON HIM!"

His father curses and drops his hand, turning around to face his wife standing in the doorway with his son's girlfriend standing behind her. He has the audacity to slap a fake smile on his face. Mack just scowls at him in disgust while Lisa walks up to him and smacks him.

The room is so quiet you could probably hear crickets if it was later than 8pm.

"Go wait for me downstairs," she commands, leaving no room for argument. He must love his wife very much because he does as he's told, holding his stinging cheek and pushing past Mack on his way out of the room.

Brady lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as his mother walks over to him and wraps him in a tight hug.

He's not sure what comes over him, but all of a sudden, he's crying - no, full-on sobbing, into his mother's shoulder. She doesn't say anything. She just rubs his back and whispers lullabies into his ear until he calms down. Mack could hardly bare to watch him cry. He just looked so… small. But he needed it. He's been holding it all in for years - it was bound to explode at some point.

After a few minutes, Lisa pulls away from the hug just enough to kiss his temple. He hiccups.

"Hi," he smiles weakly at her.

"Hi, baby. I'll handle him, okay? Sleep over at Mack's house tonight," she says softly, smoothing down his hair.

"But-"

"No exceptions. I'll be okay," she says, this time in a more stern voice, looking at her son right in his teary eyes to show how serious she is.

Defeated, he nods. Lisa pulls her son into one more motherly hug before he pulls away and stands up from his position on the bed.

"Ready?" Mack asks him, holding out a hand.

He nods silently, putting his hand into hers, and they both waste no time in getting the hell out of there. They don't even look at Jeremy as they run past. They just want out. So they went.


Mack and Brady sit on the wide lifeguard seat, cuddling up to each other and watching the sunset. He sighs in content, closing his eyes peacefully.

Once again, Mack watches him. This time, though, she notices that he's truly peaceful. She never realized how much power his father had over his happiness until he was sent away.

One year. That's all he was sentenced to. The disappointment she felt after his trial still bubbles in the pit of her stomach sometimes. He should've gotten longer. At least 3 years, since that's how long he hurt Brady. But still, she knows that Jeremy being gone at all is a blessing for Brady. It's made him realize how much he appreciates the girl under his arm.

He looks down at her with a small smile gracing his lips.

"Can I admit something?" He asks.

She nods.

"I've always felt like I could breathe better around you. Ever since we met, I knew we had this connection, because you made me feel… safe. At home. Which I needed, since my home wasn't really much of a home. I felt suffocated in those walls, That's why I love surfing so much - because it's my escape. But you're also my escape. You're my oxygen. I don't want to get pulled though life. I want to march through it, like your mom wanted you to do. I can do that, but you're all I really need, I love you, Mack."

Every word is spoken with sincerity. His eyes twinkle and the smile never leaves his face. Mack just wants to freeze this moment and stay in it forever. The words melts her heart, and she can't help the tears that pool in her eyes. This time, she lets them fall freely.

"I love you too, Brady."

They lean in and capture their lips onto one another's, not pulling away for what seems like forever, but they don't care. Well, Brady doesn't. Who needs to breathe when he's got her? She's his oxygen; he'll be fine.


Yes yes I KNOW, incredibly cheesy ending. Don't crucify me. Anyways, yeah so we never really find out, like, anything, about Brady's family in the first movie and we only meet his mom in the second. Obviously his parents are either divorced or his dad just wasn't written into the script - but I wanted to add a dark twist (my username is literally somber filled with sullen) and I feel like there's more to him than a chill surfer boy who isn't a good student, you know? Just wanted to dive deeper into his character and make him go through shit so Mack can let up a bit. Like I feel her pain now, with her dead mom and stuff (I joined the club in October 2020), but I think Brady could also be going through some stuff behind the scenes.

Hope you enjoyed!

xx Lis