Hey, guys, Zach is slightly older for the sake of him being able to move out of the house (maybe 18/19), and Gray is the same age. Just around a year or so after everything happened at the park. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and please leave favs and comments if you want to :)
Zach's already up and untangled from his sheets, pocketknife in hand, as the crash resonates from downstairs. He ever so slowly maneuvers his way down the cluttered stairwell, fingers tightly gripping the wooden railing. He steps into the kitchen, blindly gropes the wall for the light switch, and flips it on; the room is illuminated instantly, revealing a pale deer-in-the-headlights-looking 12-year-old.
"Gray?" Zach questions in disbelief. He glances down at his watch; it reads in dimmed pixelated numbers 12:27 AM. "What're you doing here? Wait, no. How did you get here? No, better yet, how did you get in here? I have an alarm system set up; it should've gone off."
Gray takes a deep breath. "To answer your first question, I chose to run away for reasons unbeknown to you. Second question, I walked. And third question, really, Zach? The hiding-the-key-under-the-fake-rock trick? Everyone knows about those."
"Okay," Zach sighs heavily and begins to massage his temples lightly with the tips of his fingers, carefully placing the pocketknife on the counter. "I'm gonna give you five minutes to provide a better answer as to why you snuck out of the house, walked across the county, and broke into my house before I call Mom and tell her to come pick you up."
Gray's eyes widen dramatically, clutching the edge of the granite countertop so tightly his knuckles fade to a ghostly shade of white. "N-no! Please! Please don't."
Zach seems to notice the instant shift in his brother's mood and kneels in front of him to get within eye level. He gently places his hand on Gray's shoulder and squeezes it. "Gray, bro. What happened?"
"N-nothing happened. I just... I just don't want to go back. That's all," Gray sniffs softly, tears welling in his baby blue eyes as he gazes down to the ground.
"Hey," Zach starts, using his index finger to lift his little brother's chin, "If you think for even a second that I believe that's your reasoning, you're wrong. Now, what really happened? Is this about Mom's new boyfriend? What's his name... John?"
Without meaning to, Gray feels his eyes, once again, widen.
"Gray. What's going on? What did John do? Did he hurt you?" Zach questions anxiously, "Did he touch y-"
Gray slightly pulls away in disgust. "Eww, no! Of course not! That's gross, Zach!"
The elder's eyes slowly squint tighter until he's staring at Gray unsurely.
"Look. I just don't exactly like him, okay? He's new, and we both know I don't care all that well for new things," Gray starts quietly, his hand resting on Zach's forearm. "Especially when those new things just come into my life and completely wreck it," he mumbles almost incoherently.
"Okay, alright. Do you have a bag? Anything?" Zach asks blankly as he uses Gray's shoulder for support to stand up.
The 12-year-old blushes a light pink shade and holds up a small duffel bag. "I didn't have much time to pack my things because I heard John say he was going out to the club with his friends at midnight, and I didn't want to leave while Mom was still awake. So I left with a minimal amount of stuff to carry."
Zach sighs faintly and snatches the bag out of Gray's hands. Before his little brother has enough time to protest, he's already halfway up the stairs. He pauses at the top and motions for Gray to follow him. "C'mon. If you're gonna stay here tonight, you might as well sleep somewhere comfortable."
A delicate grin begins to tug at the corners of Gray's lips as he quickly ascends the stairwell and comes to a halt next to Zach. He shyly glances up at him, latching onto his arm. "Hey, thanks for not kicking me out. I was gonna call you, but then I thought better of it because it was so late."
"Gray," Zach states firmly as he tosses the bag to the little couch shoved in the corner of his bedroom. "I wouldn't kick you out on the street and you know that. But, hey, listen to me. Next time you want to get out of that house for any reason, I don't care what time it is, you call me. Alright? I'll do my best to pause whatever I'm doing and come get you. Even if it's the middle of the night, you call. Got it?"
"Are you sure? I mean, if I ever have to run away again, I can just walk here," Gray replies flatly, eyes averted toward the dark wood grain in the floor.
Zach tugs back the thick gray and white checkered comforter on his bed and motions for his little brother to get in. "No, Gray. I don't ever want you to walk that far by yourself again. If you just call me, I can come pick you up and drive you here safely."
Gray hesitates before slowly gazing at Zach's face. "You're letting me stay with you?" He peeps so quietly that the elder stares at him with a bewildered expression.
"Of course, why wouldn't I let you stay with me?" Zach questions, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He motions toward the bed once more when his brother remains across the room, unmoving. "Okay, something is wrong. What is it?"
Gray chews anxiously on his bottom lip, ripping the sensitive flesh between his teeth. "I- Well- I just kinda thought…" he pauses mid-sentence as he twirls a rogue string from his hoodie. "I figured you'd call Mom right away, and I'd just be sent back where I came from."
Zach shakes his head silently, his eyes averting in what appears to be disappointment. "Why would I do that? You know I'll always hear you out. Now get in. It's late, and I'm exhausted. You walked all the way over here to interrupt my sleep, so the least you could do is lay down and be quiet."
While the tone in Zach's voice holds absolutely no malice, and he even pauses to ruffle his little brother's hair affectionately, Gray feels a sense of guilt wash over him. "I'm…sorry. Truly, I didn't mean to-"
"Hey," Zach says sternly, staring the younger down, "Stop. I'm kidding. You know that. Now, let's get some sleep." He latches onto Gray's forearm and yanks him closer to the bed, and it's then that he notices the flinch he's met with.
While Zach has not always been the kindest to Gray, he has never once laid hands on him, nor have either of his parents, at least to his knowledge. So, when his little brother's eyes squeeze shut tightly as he realizes the reaction he let slip, he sits on the edge of the mattress.
His voice suddenly going blank, he says, "We'll talk about this tomorrow. Get in bed. Sleep." He tugs the thick comforter over himself and Gray, turning over on his side to face the younger. Taking note of the way the 12-year-old has tears welling in his blue eyes and appears to be as rigid as a plank of wood, Zach reaches out slowly and gently to wrap his fingers around his forearm. "Relax," he whispers with a newfound softness, "You're safe here."
And as Gray leans further into the stabilizing touch of his older brother, Zach can't help but wonder what he's missed the past few months.