Disclaimer. Sorry it took so long.
It was perfect. Blood dribbled onto his chin, and the buzzed, tattooed artist handed him a greasy napkin to wipe it away. In the dirty, flecked mirror, he could see the ring glinting metallically in the dull light. Someone handed him a drink, to make the burning feeling in the corner of his mouth go away.
"Nice choice, kid." The man said. He flexed his junkie thin muscles as Scott paid him and stood. He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and headed outside.
It was snowing. Scott stared up at the cloudy sky and hummed a little. His lip was burning from where the needle had stabbed. He touched the ring gently. It hurt, even to touch it. He poked it with his tongue and winced. Even if it hurt like a son of a bitch, it was beautiful and it was his.
He began the lonely trek home. The piercing had been a spur of the moment kind of thing. He had passed the neon lights and thought of Mr. Sundry. How his lips made Scott's burn and sting. So he went in and got it done. The houses on his street were decorated for Christmas, a mere two weeks away.
Once, when Scott still lived with his father, the old man had been dating a thirty-something with a bad habit of wearing belly shirts and pants a size too small. They had all climbed into his father's beat up station wagon and gone to the bar. Afterwards, smashed out of their minds, his father and the girlfriend took turns smashing into Christmas decorations in front lawns. Scott stopped to stare at a reindeer display, imagining himself stealing Bobby's keys and hitting the glowing scene at sixty five.
Evelyn was in the kitchen, listening to the radio, when Scott got home. He could hear her singing Christmas carols to the empty room. Bobby had been gone since before he left on his walk. Something about celebrating a birthday with a few friends from his new job. He could hear Jack in his room. Angel was visiting his new girlfriend's family, and Jerry was still at work.
"Hello?" Evelyn was standing in the doorway. Scott smiled sadly at her as he took off her coat. "Oh, Scott. Honey, where did you go?" He shrugged and moved forward, intent on finding something to eat. "What's that?"
"What's what?" He repeated unthinkingly. He winced inwardly at his hoarse tone. Evelyn squinted at him, cupping his chin in her hands.
"That. The ring." She reached up to touch it and seemed to think better of it, lowering her finger. "How long have you had it?"
Scott looked over at the clock. "About a half an hour. Do you like it?" Evelyn eyed it strangely. "Ev- Evelyn, do you like it?" He held her wrists loosely, so she would face him. "You think it looks nice?"
"It's beautiful, you know that? But I wish you had mentioned getting it." Scott shrugged and rubbed his pale arms. He moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of juice. "You want to help me make cookies, Scott?" She put her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. She drew back quickly. "Why don't you have a seat?"
They sat across from each other at the scuffed wooden table. Scott could see a scratch from where Bobby had thrown a wrench at Jerry, and another that Jack said Angel made once when he was fooling around with his girlfriend. The surface was stained and beaten down, all the marks of a family. He traced the flowers on the placemat, until Evelyn grabbed his hand to stop him.
"I can't help you unless you help me." She said gently. "Tell me what is wrong. I can help you." Scott opened his mouth soundlessly. He pulled his hands from her grip slowly and placed them in his lap. "Scott, honey, I only want what's best for you. Is it- the adoption?"
"No!" Scott said, more forcefully than intended. He clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. "No, I like it here. It's- It's just that-" He broke off, squeezing his eyes shut and looking down. She would never believe a liar like Scott. "I- I miss my Dad. Can I see him soon?"
Evelyn lowered her eyes sadly. "Scott, I don't-"
"Please." He begged. "I just want to see him. I want my dad back. Is he going to be out of jail soon?"
"I don't know, Scott." Evelyn held her arms open, and Scott hesitated before allowing her to hug him. "I'm sorry, but you can't go back to that house."
"But- but I don't wanna go back, Evelyn." He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Maybe you can take me to visit him? Please." He blinked to clear the fog from his vision and reached up to brush the scar. "I haven't seen him in almost four years. I miss him." He was surprised to find he actually did want to see his dad.
"I- I'll see what I can do, honey." Evelyn murmured. Scott nodded into her shoulder, cringing as his ring hit her blouse. She let him go and he scooted away. "Now, are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich."
"I'm not hungry." He said quietly. He drank his juice. The front door banged open, and Bobby tracked snow into the kitchen. He gave Evelyn a sloppy kiss on the cheek, ruffling Scott's hair.
"Hey, Ma, I brought some friends over. Okay?" He gestured widely to the living room, where a heavy set man stood looking at the pictures uneasily. "His name is Frankie. Scott, come meet Frankie." Bobby grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him, protesting, into the living room. "Frankie, this is my little brother Scott. Scott, this is Frankie." Scott nervously waved hello.
"What are you, a faggot?" Frankie asked rudely. Scott looked away, pulling his arm from Bobby's grip and heading for the stairs.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bobby demanded. He caught Scott and pulled him back around. "Apologize man. This is my little brother."
"Sorry." Frankie grunted, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Just, I've only seen fags with those rings." Bobby looked confused, and Scott took the opportunity to climb the stairs to his room.
Jack and Brandon were sitting on the floor looking at some magazine when Scott walked in. He paused, briefly, before skirting around them. "Sorry. I'll just be a minute."
Fuck Mr. Sundry. Fuck Evelyn and the Mercers. He was sick of them all. He was going to leave, for good this time, and find a ride to the Social Services. He didn't even care that he might go to the Detention Center, if it meant getting away.
"What are you doing?" Jack stared oddly at his bag.
"What the fuck's it look like?" Scott snapped curtly. He zipped the bag closed and headed for the door. Jack followed him, saying something to Brandon. Bobby and Frankie were still arguing in the living room, and Bobby moved toward him.
"Oh, well look at that." He said in amazement. "You do have your lip pierced. What's going on?"
"Bobby, stop him!" Jack insisted. Scott didn't even bother with his coat. He was furious, suddenly. He wanted to leave. He pushed his feet into his sneakers and felt Bobby's hand close around his wrist.
"Don't touch me." He growled, opening the door and wrenching away from Bobby. His whole body fucking hurt. Mr. Sundry had tore his arms open that afternoon. The bruise, half-healed, was aching and pounding. Bobby and Jack were speaking at the same time, making it difficult to think straight.
"Scott? Where are you going?" Evelyn called out. "You know I don't like you out this late." There was a funny, whining sound that Scott suspected was Frankie's laughter. "Scott?"
He kept walking, down the sidewalk and towards the corner. There was a bus stop close by. He wondered if it still ran this late. Bobby was chasing after him, slipping drunkenly on the snow and ice.
"What are you doing, man?" He yelled, finally catching up. He grabbed Scott's shoulder, surprised when the younger boy hissed in pain. "What?" He hadn't realized his grip was so strong.
Scott carefully pulled up his sleeve, mindful of the deep gouges across his skin. Bobby stared at them. "Bobby, damn it, I think you reopened them." Yes, he had. They leaked blood slowly, bubbles of scarlet dripping down his arm. "Aw, fuck. Do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out? I really liked this shirt."
"How did you get them?" Bobby demanded angrily. "You fall out of another fucking tree?"
"Maybe." Scott snapped.
Bobby grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward, shaking him. "This is not funny, Scott. How did you get them?" Scott pushed Bobby as hard as he could, which really didn't have that much of an effect. "Knock it off." Bobby screamed. He grabbed Scott's chin and lifted his wrist. "It's not funny. This isn't a joke. What the fuck happened?"
"I did it, okay?" Scott yelled back. "'Cause I'm so damn angry. I scratched my arms open. It that better? Is that what you wanted to hear?" He forgot completely about his bag and his plan. "Because you're an asshole, Bobby. Because I miss my dad and you fucking introduce me as your brother. That's why I did it." He knelt and scooped up his bag. "Now, goodbye. I've had enough drama to last me a lifetime."
This time, when he stalked down the road, no one grabbed him to stop him.