Chapter Three: Connections

March 9th, 1991

Hank slammed the door of the car and swore under his breath. All the work he had put in, all the extra hours and bootlicking of the bosses, and they still gave that goddamn promotion to someone else. As he entered the house, he headed straight for the small cabinet above the refrigerator where he still kept a small stash of alcohol 'for special occasions.'

He grabbed the first bottle that came to his hand and chugged half of it, relishing the fiery burn that settled into the pit of his stomach and fed the blind rage that had been growing since he saw the pitying smile on his supervisor's face that morning.

His muscles burned with tension that would not go away so he punched the wall, and then stared at the jagged hole, finding the act of violence an almost soothing release for his anger. His vision blurred as he finished the bottle and dropped it into the sink, not even hearing the jarring tinkle of breaking glass as he grabbed another bottle from the cupboard and stumbled towards the living room.

Michael tightened his grip on his sister as they huddled on her bed and listened to Hank swearing loudly and yet another crashing noise. It was not the first time he had come home angry, but he had never broken anything before, and never yelled so loudly.

He wished the nice lady was here but she had told them on her visit last week that she would not be coming back ever again. Someone new would be checking on them, and only once in a while since they had lived here for so long.

'What are we going to do Michael?' his sister asked, fear lacing her mental touch.

'I don't know Lyn; I don't think there's anything we can do.'

April 30th, 1991

Some kids in their class had been acting up and their teacher had decided to impose a seating chart in an attempt to break up the worst of the troublemakers. It was the first time Lyn and Michael had not sat next to each other and neither of them was very happy about it, although Michael was the only one actively glaring at the kids around him.

Lyn caught his expression and smiled to herself before a voice interrupted her thoughts and caused her gaze to turn to the seat next to her.

"Hi, I'm Liz," the tiny brunette girl said with a wide grin. "Sorry you can't sit next to your brother." Her grin faded a little and she rolled her eyes in the direction of the teacher. "They won't even let me and my sister be in the same class."

"That sucks," Lyn said, shuddering slightly at the thought of only seeing Michael at lunch and recess. Her brother was the only person she had ever felt safe with and she did not know what she would do if they tried to take him away from her.

"It does," Liz replied, but smiled at her anyways. "What did you bring in for show and tell?"

Lyn showed her the sparkly rock she had found and the two girls continued to talk, and even giggle for the next several hours, much to Lyn's surprise.

Meanwhile, across the classroom, Michael's glare had silenced all of the children near him but one.

"I brought handcuffs for show and tell. My dad let me put his handcuffs on Deputy Sacks once. Have you ever seen real handcuffs before?"

"No," Michael grunted when it became clear the other boy expected a reply.

"What did you bring?"

"Nothing." Lyn had forced him to bring the rattlesnake skin he had found but he had no intention of telling Kyle that and encouraging the boy to continue talking to him.

"The teacher won't like that," the boy said and Michael closed his eyes. Why did he talk so much?

The day passed quickly for Lyn who found herself enjoying her new friend's company, and slowly for Michael, who missed his sister, and found it difficult to get rid of the Valenti boy who seemed determined to become his friend despite no encouragement whatsoever.

When Hank showed up to get them, he had the mildly cheerful appearance that meant Gloria was coming over and that the two children would be sneaking out of their bedroom window and sleeping under the stars so as not to hear the various strange noises that happened on those nights.

But something was different that night. Gloria was not smiling when she showed up, and she was not carrying a six pack of Hank's favorite drink like usual. Lyn and Michael exchanged glances before carrying their bowls of mac and cheese into the bedroom and closing the door, unnoticed by the adults having a quietly tense conversation in the living room.

The conversation did not stay quiet for long and soon the two of them snuck out the window and curled up on the other side of the two loose boards in the back fence, trying to ignore the angry screams echoing from the house.

June 2nd, 1991

Raelyn did not know what to do. School was out and she was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been. School was their escape, their safe haven. They were in classes until the early afternoon, and then they stayed along with a few other kids who had single parents until Hank got off of work or home from the bar. But after that day they would be home all the time and Hank was home too.

He did not work as much anymore and he was always angry. Michael took her hand in his as the teacher walked them out to Hank's car for the last time, his own fear flowing through their bond, but not nearly as strong as his desire to protect her.

They could both feel the anger simmering beneath the surface of the man who smiled and greeted the teacher, and exchanged distressed glances as they slid into the back seat. The ride home was spent in silence, as was dinner, and they retreated to their room as soon as he sat down in front of the TV, beer in hand.

'We need to do something Michael...I think…I think he might hurt us,' she said, voicing her deepest fear as she watched her brother walk back and forth between their beds.

He stopped and turned towards her. 'That stuff he drinks - it makes him worse.'

She nodded. They had both watched his rage increase when he drank out of the glass bottles and noticed that the more he drank, the more things he broke. Before the last time they had seen Gloria he had been bad, but since she stopped coming over he had gotten worse, much worse.

'What if we got rid of it?' her brother asked, hope tingeing his mental voice.

'What if it makes him more angry?'

Michael frowned. 'We'll wait. If he gets worse then we'll try it'

'Okay.'

He stepped forward to stand in front of her and touched her forehead with his own. 'No matter what, I won't let him hurt you.'