"Where do you think you're going?" Gareth turned in his recliner to face Jack, who had one foot on the first step.

"To my room." Jack shot back, refusing to let his voice waver.

"I don't think so." Gareth glared at Jack, almost as if he was willing the boy to burst into flames. "The house needs cleaning."

"I'm not your maid." Jack spat and took another step towards the top floor.

"Well the Bitch isn't home, so you are." Gareth grumbled.

"Hey." Jack snapped. "Don't talk about my mom like that."

"The woman's my wife. I'll talk about her how I damn well please."

"The 'woman' has a name."

"You need to learn some respect, boy." Gareth shook his head and lurched out of his chair, exhaling through his nose like an angry bull as he stalked towards the staircase.

"Why should I respect a drug lord who treats my mom like dirt and-"

It went against every instinct in him to not dodge as Gareth pinned Jack to the wall by his neck. The grip wasn't tight enough to cut off his breath, but the force of his head connecting with the wall rendered him silent.

"How many times do I have to explain to you that I pay for your existence." Gareth practically growled. "I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. I paid off your daddy's hospital bills. I kept the bitch out of debt. I practically fished you two out of the gutter. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. So I. Demand. Respect."

Jack simply glared back. "Not. Gonna. Happen."

"You asked for it." Gareth shrugged. He moved his hand from Jack's throat to his hair and tossed him down into the living room.

Jack simply ignored the fact that he was being tossed around like a ragdoll. At this point, he was used to it. That was sad… wasn't it?

"Why do I put up with this?" His mind wandered as he vaguely registered his face being mashed into the carpet. "I could just run away." But he really couldn't. Where would he even go? The only existing family he had was Kai and his parents. He hated them, and didn't even know where they lived. He'd have to leave the dojo, his friends, and his mom. He could never leave her. He couldn't live with himself if he allowed her to endure the daily beatings he took to keep her relatively unharmed. The more Gareth tired himself out with Jack as a punching bag, the less likely his mom was to get hurt. Sure he still smacked her around from time to time, but not nearly as much as he used to before Jack started intervening.

"Why do I even try?" his mind wandered as his head once again slammed into a wall. He wasn't sure which way was up, only that he was likely concussed. "What's the point of protecting someone who got us into this mess in the first place?" Sometimes he felt like he resented his mom for ending up with Gareth. But then he remembered that Gareth had swooped in just months after his father's death and was there for his mom. Gareth had been so nice at first. He'd helped jack's mom get back on her feet and heal from her previous husband's death. But slowly, Gareth began showing his true colours. And now he practically had Jack and his mom on strings like marionettes. Puppets to do his bidding while he sold drugs and drank beer.

Jack got lost in his own head for a while, thoughts wandering from the dojo to school, to his shit life at home, until he eventually realized that the room had gone quiet, and he was laying on the kitchen floor, alone. He sat up slowly, wincing and groaning with each move. The room was spinning, confirming his concussion suspicion.

"Jack?" His mom's voice made him flinch. "Jack, baby, what happened?" She dropped her groceries and was on the floor in a second.

"It's fine." Jack brushed her off and grabbed the counter to drag himself off the floor. Somehow, his gym bag was still slung over his shoulder, and the uneven weight caused him to lean slightly. "I'm fine."

His mom held back tears as he leaned on the counter for a second, willing the floor to stop rocking beneath his feet. "Sweetheart… I'm so sorry."

"Mom, really, I'm fine." Once the floor settled, he headed for the stairs. "I'm just gonna go lay down." He kept a hand on the wall as he ventured upstairs, steadying himself against the waves that seemed to crash all around him.

Eventually, Jack made it to his room. His haven. He locked to door, dropped his bag, and flopped onto his bed. Most of his time at home was spent staring at his four burgundy walls. At least he had lots to look at. Bobby Wasabi movie posters, pictures from his training and tournaments, his medals and trophies, all of his belts, and photos of him and his friends and family were scattered about the room with no sense of organization. It was more fun that way. Having decorations arranged coherently got boring quickly.

While he was staring at a picture of his dad, Jack heard the front door slam open and the screaming start. It hadn't occurred to him that Gareth had left the house, but his return was loud and angry. He wanted so badly to leap out of bed and rush down there to defend his mom, but his body refused to move. He was too exhausted. He was too dizzy. He couldn't do it. He was stuck listening to Gareth scream at his mom.

"I'M SICK OF THAT GOOD FOR NOTHING WASTE OF SPACE FREELOADING SORRY EXCUSE FOR A SON OF YOURS! HE HAS NO RESPECT FOR ME OR THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU! HE'S LUCKY I DON'T KICK HIM OUT ON THE STREET OR SELL HIM OFF!"

His mom kept her voice lower, he couldn't hear what she was saying. He knew how she sounded though. Terrified. Meek. Small.

"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S NOT OVER THE ASSHOLE WHO LEFT YOU IN DEBT! I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED IN MY OWN HOUSE!"

"Yeah. Sure. Dad got cancer and died and left us in debt on purpose."

The screaming went on but Jack just tuned it out. He refused to believe a word that came out of Gareth's mouth. He simply rolled over, pressed a pillow around his ears to block the noise, and fell asleep.