The sunlight filtered through Evelyn's hand-crocheted curtains. Scott blinked his eyes open. He closed them again when he realized where he was and what had taken place. He was pretty sure Evelyn would have made Jack sleep downstairs. He didn't move for several long moments, finally turning to stare at the empty doorway. The room was vacant. Carefully, Scott slid onto the floor and crawled to the closet. He changed into a long sleeved white shirt and baggy gray cargo shorts, and then walked downstairs barefoot.
All the Mercers were sitting around the table. Scott half-expected to see Brandon, who was fast becoming another brother, but he was not there. Scott figured he would have left so the family could have some quality time.
"Good-" Scott broke off and coughed into his elbow, his voice cracking. He sat on the counter and tried again. "Good morning."
It sounded like he had a cold, which was strange. Evelyn stood and walked around the table to hug him. She sobbed into his shoulder while rocking him back and forth. All the while, he concentrated on the Cheshire cat clock on the opposite wall.
"I said good morning." He said rudely, once she pulled away. "That wasn't an invitation."
"Stop being so damn rude." Bobby snapped. Jerry hit him. "What? He's not gonna break."
"Bobby, shut up." Angel said, sounding tired.
"You guys wanna hear something funny?" Scott asked. Nobody answered, and he slammed his feet into the cabinets so hard his heel started to bleed. Evelyn winced. "Today's my fifteenth birthday." He looked around." Did anybody know that?"
"Of course we did, sweetheart." Evelyn murmured. She brushed a streak of green from his dark eyes. "I think, and your brothers agree, that you should go to the police station and report Mr. - Mr. Sundry." Her words trembled a bit saying his name.
Scott tilted his head back and breathed out slowly. "You wanna hear another something funny?" He asked again. "I'm an only child. I mean, unless Dad-"
"Scott." Angel said sharply. "You need to accept the fact you've been adopted. We are your family now. We're supposed to take care of you."
"Fine fucking job you've done of that." Scott countered slyly. His lips curled into an amused smirk. For a moment, no one said anything.
Bobby jumped to his feet and grabbed Scott's elbow, hauling him off the counter and towards the back door.
"Bobby, stop!" Jack insisted, trying to block the way. Bobby moved past him easily, headed for his car.
"We're just going for a ride, Jacqueline." He sneered, tugging Scott along. "Don't worry. I'll be back before curfew."
The other three brothers stood in the doorway, Evelyn in front of them. Her hands were clasped to her chest, like a sobbing Madonna. Bobby opened the passenger door and pushed his younger brother in, then went around to the driver's side. He pulled out, leaving the others behind.
Scott shivered, being barefoot and in shorts. It had snowed the night before. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, stoically refusing Bobby's offered coat.
"I'm not turning on the heat." He warned, an edge to his voice. Scott rubbed his eyes.
"Aren't you even going to say happy birthday?" He asked, playing with a streak of bright green. Bobby tightened his grip on the steering wheel and pulled into an empty parking lot, shutting off the engine. He leaned back and sighed.
"We're only trying to help." He said, trying to sound gentle. Scott snorted disbelievingly, and Bobby's lip curled. "I'm serious." He insisted. "I just wanna know-"
"What do you wanna know? Scott interrupted. He unfolded his legs and glared at his foster brother. "What do you 'just wanna know', Bobby?" He got on his knees and leaned into the driver's seat.
"Scott-" Bobby began. Scott cut him off when he threw one leg over Bobby's seat, essentially straddling him. Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Get off." He commanded, slightly concerned that Scott weighed barely anything.
Scott tried not to concentrate on the feeling of Bobby's denim jeans against his pale skin. He leaned forward, one hand on either side of Bobby's arms.
"Do you just wanna know- what Mr. Sundry did to me?" He continued without skipping a beat. "You wanna know what he made me do?"
"I don't care." Bobby said forcefully. "I wanted to know why you didn't trust us." Scott forced a laugh. Bobby grabbed his wrists and pushed him back against the wheel. "Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded.
"Because." Scott whispered, surly. He climbed off Bobby and sat cross-legged in the passenger seat, looking out his window. "If I said something, my dad would have found out. And that can't happen."
"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but your dad's in jail for throwing you against a wall." Bobby reminded him. Scott gave a shaky laugh. "To be honest, I don't think he would care one way or another about what happens to you."
Scott glared out the window, pressing his knuckles against his lips. His shoulders shook and his eyes squeezed shut. Bobby hesitantly reached out and put his arms around Scott. He leaned against the older man, breathing in the heady scent of pot and sweat on Bobby's flannel shirt. Despite being initially resilient, Scott relaxed and started to cry.
"I'm sorry." Bobby muttered, rubbing his back. "That was an asshole thing to say. I'm sorry."
"It's not you." Scott sobbed. "It's not my dad, either. I don't know what it is." He hiccupped and buried his face in Bobby's broad shoulder. "It's cold. Can I borrow your jacket?" He shivered when Bobby, chuckling, put the jacket around him.
One reason was that it was cold. The other reason being he was embarrassed now by what he had just done.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve and coughed. "Can we go back now?" He asked quietly. Bobby nodded and started the engine.
They drove home in relative silence, broken only when Bobby turned on the radio and fiddled with the dials. They pulled into the driveway and Scott got out. He hopped across front yard on patches of dirt and asphalt, carefully avoiding the gray mush of snow.
They went through the front door, and Scott found himself face-to-face with social worker Jenny.