Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Breakfast Club and it's characters.
John glared in disgust at Andrew, sleeping soundly on his couch. Although, admittedly, it was better than him sleeping in John's room, the fact that he'd spent the night soundly anywhere in his house bothered him.
He moved on. He didn't have time for this shit, yet in the kitchen, another upsetting view. His new fucking "mommy" with a pan of eggs over the open flame of the stove. She smiled at him, the sun from the small kitchen window hitting her soft skin and blond hair, making her look out of place in the color faded, broken down kitchen. At that moment, with that smile, that soft perfume, and that pastel dress, she looked way too much like his own mom for John to be able to stomach her.
"Hey! I already called you and Andrew out of school for today. You can go lay back down if you want, breakfast will be done in about fifteen minutes. We're going to have a fun day getting to know each other." The woman said, saying so many things, all at once, that just didn't get said in that kitchen. Fun? "get to know each other"? Breakfast? Good God, that house was going to eat the woman alive.
"I have to work today, Mommy." John said, grabbing his long gray coat from the table and brushing past the woman. He wasn't playing nice with her just because they shared the same misfortune of residing in the Bender residence. Nobody had showed him compassion for that fact alone, why should he owe compassion or pity back to anyone else in the same predicament?
Andrew woke up with a spring in his back. He didn't even know it was possible for the springs to be a problem on a couch. The cushions were so worn down, that they were practically flat. He could not get used to this, but he couldn't close his eyes in the same room as John Bender.
Andrew smelled eggs. He stretched out the kinks in his joints as best as he could, and made his way to the kitchen. He started piling the food onto a plate, but stopped when he heard a slight sniffle. Andrew followed the noise to the brittle steps of the back porch.
He sighed and sat beside his mother. He wasn't exactly sure on what to say to comfort her. Besides their nightly phone calls, he didn't really talk to her. Not like he talked to his dad. It was brought to his attention that he didn't really know much about her at all, and for some reason, that made him feel guilty enough to the point that he temporarily forgave her for marrying into the Bender family.
"I just want all of us to be happy, and I know, I know you don't like living here now, and you miss living with your dad, but I just want to give the both of us a family, but you're mad at me, and Joe's son is mad at me, and the oldest just ignores me. We've never really been a family Andy, that's all I want. A family." She said between sniffles.
Andrew brought his mother into a hug, but couldn't help but sigh. He wasn't riding this pity train. It was her fault they'd never been a family. She's the one that had left. He and his father had made a family, all by themselves. It was her fault she was not included in that. If all she wanted was a family, she should have gotten back with his father before he moved out of state. She shouldn't have made the decisions she had made. She shouldn't have become such an embarrassment to the Clark family, that Andrew had only spoken with her via phone until recently, even though she was always just a few streets away.
With that last thought, an annoying sting of guilt poked at Andrew. She had asked him to go to the mall with him. To hang out, to go see a movie. He had refused, coming up with half assed, pathetic excuses, because he was embarrassed. He couldn't even fathom why she brought him such shame; if anyone saw them together, they wouldn't know anything about who she was, what she did, or even that she wasn't with his father. Andrew was ashamed of her to the point that it didn't matter that if other people saw them together, that they wouldn't share his embarrassment, just knowing himself made him sick, so he had kept it to phone conversations for five whole years.
"We're going to be a family, Mom, and I'm going to be a better son. I promise." Andrew whispered. He decided that, for his mother's sake, he'd leave out the "just not with these people" part of his statement. He'd just have to stomach pretending to be happy there for a little longer, until he could come up with a plan to get them out, or until the Bender's drove them out.
John tossed his coat on the kitchen table and pulled a beer out of the ice box. Inside the fridge was leftover pasta from a "family" dinner, a new, strange addition to their house, to go with the new addition of the house.
John made a disgusted face and took a big gulp of the beer. After another rough day at work, he just wanted to come home to the normal scene. His father passed out in front of the television, his brother at Chelsea's house, and an empty fridge. The unpleasantly familiar.
He quietly finished off the beer, grabbed another, and headed towards his room. After a fourteen hour day, he really didn't have the energy to be any more upset about the pasta than he already was. Otherwise, he would have pissed in it.
John turned the light on in his room to find Andrew, sitting on the brand new bed, dramatically glaring at the doorway.
"Jesus fucking Christ." John said, throwing off another layer and plopping himself on his own bed. After dealing with drunk assholes all night, John wasn't particularly in the mood for this overly dramatic shit. Quite honestly, he wasn't really in the mood for anything short of sleep, but he had a feeling that it wasn't going to happen that night.
"You made my mom cry, you fucking prick." Andrew sneered.
No, you both did.
That thought was almost unbearable to Andrew. He knew he'd be made fun of for it if he ever let anyone know, but Andrew actually had a huge conscience. While others were still high fiving him for the duct tape gag, bringing the story up at any opportunity and calling him "the man", he still had an intense burning in his gut at the realization that he'd been the animal to do what he did to that fucking kid. He'd felt guilty when he'd set John off by calling him a liar about his home life, he felt guilty that he ignored John and Brian at school, he felt guilty that he felt ashamed of his mom, and most importantly, he felt guilty that he'd been part of the reason that she was crying. It made him all the more angry at John, who'd helped push her to her breaking point.
"And the guilt is eating me alive Sporto, believe me." John said sarcastically as he snapped open the beer. What the fuck did the kid want from him? John made a lot of people cry. Daily. The fact that he was an asshole wasn't any sort of news, so why the hell was Andrew getting so worked up over it?
"You know Bender, you'll never change." Andrew said coldly, unknowingly pushing one of John's biggest buttons.
John was normally a hard person to insult. Hell, his dad had been calling him every name in the book since before he was old enough to understand what any of them meant, and the kids at school weren't exactly friendly towards him either. Whatever was said were normally things he had long since accepted to be true anyways. The things that really set him off were the things that he had difficulty accepting, the things he was really ashamed of, the things he didn't want to be true. His father, his home life, his lack of importance, and why that would never change.
"Yeah, and you're a brand new fucking type of guy, aren't you Sport." John mumbled, digging through his pocket for his lighter. He wasn't going to show that he was hurt by the comment. That was a lesson he'd learned long before; never let someone know what they could say to hurt you. Always make it look like you didn't care, about anything, that nothing bothered you. That way, that's what people had to use against you: nothing.
"Whatever man, you're obviously too doped up to know anything." Andrew said, rolling his eyes, laying on his back, and throwing a nerf football in the air, catching it softly as it came back down. Truth was, Andrew was almost as tired from "mommy/son bonding" as John was from work, but was too uncomfortable going to sleep now that John was in the room.
"Yeah, you're probably right. So, how's big bri doing now-a-days?" John asked, knowing very well that Andrew didn't know the answer to that. Andrew hadn't changed. He liked to think he had changed, because it made him feel good about himself, but he'd only stayed friends with the two people that couldn't harm his reputation. The prom queen and the prom "princess". Clair the sequel.
"Look, as long as I'm stuck here, let's get some things straight. Don't talk to me, don't look at me, and leave my mother alone, you got that?" Andrew asked, blatantly upset from John's comment. He'd made the mistake that John had learned to avoid. He'd given John full instructions on exactly what to say if he wanted to set him off.
"Oh gee, what a bummer, I really enjoy the interaction I get with you two." John said with a small laugh. In reality, while he felt strongly opposed to Andrew being in his house, and was still open to any idea of getting him the fuck out, he really did like interaction with him. If, of course, interaction meant nothing more than getting a rise out of him. He actually enjoyed it more than he did during the detention. The more John disliked someone, the more he enjoyed making their lives hell, and Andrew had given him many new ways to dislike him since they'd been acquainted.
"Druggie asshole." Andrew mumbled under his breath. It bothered him when John laughed in response. It was like he didn't fucking care when someone insulted him. It was like he couldn't hurt John Bender, unless, of course, he was Vernon. Anyone else, and John found amusement in it. It was so frustrating, especially when he was so easily able to get under Andrew's skin, and Andrew had only knowingly said one thing to him, a whole month earlier, that actually upset him.
"Well, hey Sporto, tell you what. You've still got a daddy, don't you? Why don't you go live with him? Don't stay here on my account, I'll be fine without you. Believe me." John offered, not really expecting Mr. Clark to be an option that Andrew wouldn't have already thought of, but deciding to toss that out there anyways. He hadn't come up with a plan yet, and he was desperate.
"I…can't. He got a new coaching job in Texas." Andrew explained. While he wasn't really interested in talking to John, there was a big part of him that wanted to come on top over him. To leave him with nothing else to say. He didn't know why, but he figured it was because making John Bender run out of things to say was like a competition, and while he hated this about himself, Andrew Clark loved a good competition.
"Ah," John said, turning his head for a moment, his nostril twitching, before turning back to Andrew and adding, "well, I heard that Texas is beautiful this time of year."
"I need to compete for Shermer next year. A college scout has his eye on me. If I start at a new school, I'll lose my ride." Andrew explained, again, hoping John wouldn't have anything negative to say back. Part of him, however, to his dismay, kind of hoped John did. He wasn't the biggest fan of Bender, but talking with him brought him back to that detention a month before. The one place he hadn't been judged, where nobody expected anything of him, where he had been free to be himself. He'd taken that for granted.
"Because we all know that jock strap brain of yours is going to go far in life with a little education. I bet you become the next billionaire." John said sarcastically as he took another swig of the bottle. His stomach growled softly. Fortunately, soft enough that Andrew didn't hear. Not that it was news to Andrew that John was hungry most of the time. It was kind of hard to trick someone into think you were well fed, when the lunch you had brought to a Saturday detention was a can of soda and some dope, but John still had his pride.
"Yeah, well I don't see you making any advancements towards your future, now do I? You know Bender, you'll probably end up living here the rest of your life." Andrew shot back, ashamed that he'd let John see that he'd gotten to him yet again. He waited for a heated response, but instead, John just laughed again.
"Maybe I'll go to college on an academic scholarship." John said sarcastically, though in reality, he was really bothered by the comment. He knew he wasn't going to college, and he liked people to think that he didn't care, that he wanted out of school as soon as possible, but really, he did want to go. Not only for the benefits it promised post-graduation, but just for the experience. Just to be living on campus, living like normal kids his age, instead of in his house.
Andrew scoffed and rolled over on his side. He was through with arguing with John that night, it was a battle he obviously wasn't going to win. He was just getting frustrated. He needed to be coming up with ways to get him and his mother out of that poisonous house, not concentrating on a way that would hopefully get any kind of reaction out of John.
John took another swig before throwing the empty bottle on the ground, turning the light off, and rolling over on his own side. He stayed awake, thinking about college. He'd kind of figured Andrew was going to college, he figured they all were. Probably all with scholarships. He'd figured this for some time, but now that they were talking about it, it bothered him.
John Bender was actually a smart kid, and sometimes, he even realized this. He was witty, that was obvious. His vocabulary was impressive, even though he'd barely ever attended English class. He'd made it as far as he did in school, without ever getting held back, even though he had an absence record that was just as impressive as his vocabulary. He was quick to come up with a plan on most occasions, quick to insult, and knew people enough to almost instantly know what to say to get under their skin. He saw the truth in them, even when they tried to hide it. He did like reading about certain things, he was a quick with math, which simultaneously, along with being overall talented with his hands, made him a genius at shop. John Bender was a naturally smart kid, yet, he didn't have a scholarship, and high school would probably be the extent of his education, if he even made it that far.
He'd been screwed out of college since the day he was born, and he was jealous of every kid who was still in the running.
Andrew's stomach woke him up in the middle of the night. This wasn't uncommon, Andrew was hungry every few hours. He burned calories like it was his job, in addition to having a lightening fast metabolism. Both of these factors added together made him eat like a starved pig. He could easily put away three sandwiches, and still be hungry.
Andrew felt his way around for the door, nearly tripping three times and stubbing his foot once on the way. Bender was a fucking slob. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to live in that filth, with dirty clothes and beer bottles lying all over the floor. He didn't know why he would expect anything else, as if his locker hadn't been any indication that his room was a complete mess.
When Andrew made it to the kitchen, he was happy to see a whole large bowl of pasta still in the fridge. He'd assumed John had eaten it when he got home, but figured booze was a more appetizing dinner for someone like Bender. His loss was Andrew's gain; he was starving.
Andrew tried to remember which drawer held the silverware. He opened the first little cubby, but found it to be just an odds and ends drawer. He closed it, but couldn't resist the curiosity to open it again. He was slightly embarrassed to admit it, but he figured everyone would be interested to go snooping around the school criminal's house. To see how he lived, what he had, to get inside his mind, since John had done a pretty good job of building up the walls needed to shut everyone out.
The drawer basically held useless shit. He rummaged through it and found mostly things like paperclips, sticky notes, pens- things that John would take from the library. Things that obviously had no importance to him, since they were in a junk drawer, but he'd stolen just in case they ever would. Or just for the thrill of taking them.
At the bottom of the drawer, Andrew found a photograph. It was a family, almost unidentifiable as the Bender family. Joe looked a lot younger, twenty years younger, even though it couldn't have been more than twelve years ago, judging by John and Jake's sizes. His now gray hair was then black, his beard clean shaven, and his whole presence somehow more aware. Next to him, was a short, smiling young woman. The sun hit her slightly tanned skin, and her eyes gleamed back in return. She was beautiful, in her pastel blue dress and with her long, aurborn hair. In her arms, was John. He seemed to have been about three, but judging from Jake's size, was probably older, and just small for his age. He wore an oversized sweater, probably a hand-me-down from his brother, but had a happiness and an innocence on his face that Andrew had never seen with him. And Jake was so tiny. He had little chicken legs, and little scrawny arms, as he looked up at his brother with a goofy little smile.
Andrew caught himself smiling at the picture, before throwing it back in the drawer. It was kind of reassuring to see John so innocent, so young, so happy. It reminded him that John was human, and that he wasn't stuck living with some animal that would always come out on top. It also reassured him that John had been lying in detention. That wasn't the family of an abused kid. That was a happy family.
Suddenly, Andrew was jealous. John's home life, minus the abuse he'd decided wasn't true, still wasn't very favorable, but it was just as discomforting as it was calming to see that John had been the member of a happy family, that he'd been just as jolly as any other child growing up. It made a happy family seem too normal. If someone like John Bender could have rooted from a happy family, then everyone had to have. It seemed so common, but it wasn't. Some families got divorced, some mother's chose questionable lifestyles that embarrassed their kids, and some kids only talked to their mothers on the phone.
Andrew scoffed at himself. He was so pathetic, that he had gotten jealous at John Bender. It didn't matter if John once had a happy family, that he'd once been a normal kid. He wasn't anymore. He was just a fuck up now. He wasn't going to anywhere in life; Andrew was. It didn't matter that John had spent a childhood in his mother's arms, because she wasn't around anymore. Andrew's was, and he was going to make sure he didn't take that for granted anymore. She was all he had now.
A/N: I'm unsatisfied with the title. It's temporary until I think of a new one, because changing the awful title of, "What Brothers Share" just couldn't wait any longer. You have no idea how badly I wanted to call this story "Step Brothers", and how much I'm still considering it.
EaTMyShOrTs85: thanks for being my first review...four years ago haha.
BlackRose96: haha, yeah, I think that was my mentality four years ago. That it'd be interesting and original to put the two together in the same room. I wihs i had executed the idea better then! thanks for reviewing the first chapter of the original!
Ksarsera Aditi: Yeah, it was pretty bad haha. I was rereading it and I was like...wow. This was supposed to be Bender? From the movie I've seen over a million times? Thanks for reviewing the original chapter one, sorry it hadn't met your expectations (it didn't reach mine either lol).
neuroticperioxideblonde: as I said in the original response to your review (which, along with the story, got revamped because my responses were...obnoxious), I really like your user name. Very unique. Much better than the one my middle school mind thought up lol. Thanks for reviewing the original.
Sparks Daimond: I still think your real name is pretty, just as I did in the original review response. Thank you for taking interest in the plot and the original story, and thank you for the review!