The air felt different without his mask and while Marcus would never say it out loud, he missed it sometimes. He missed have the reminder that he had gotten out, gotten free. Ms. G might have given it to him out of fear, but his parents had loved to admire their work and the mask felt like a barrier between himself and his parents.
Being without the mask was very foreign to Marcus, but being alone was completely alien to him. Andrew and Neil had to leave early for a game close by that Marcus wanted to go to go, but they would have stayed out too late for him. So they left him with his sitter, a nice lady who went by Kelly. She had brought him to Aaron and Katelyn’s to see Andy who also was not allowed to go to the game. They had played together for hours and he wanted to sleep over, but he had to ask Neil first and they couldn’t reach him until the game was over, so he had to go home. Kelly had class the next day, so she took him home and stayed with him until he fell asleep, tucking him in and kissing his forehead gently. She didn’t seem to mind his scars at all. Actually, she seemed to be very protective of him because of it. Marcus liked her very much, so Andrew and Neil like her too. But she had left a long time ago, shutting the door as softly as possible before locking it with her spare key.
He had just started to get used to living with Andrew and Neil, but on nights like these, when he felt the hands pinning him down and the burn of the cigerette buds as they seared his skin. He had jolted out of bed from the nightmare, covered in a cold sweat and heart racing so fast the Marcus gripped the shirt above his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get past that haunting pain that crawled over his skin.
The younger kids at the orphanage would have broken into the kitchen to get him water and the older ones would have hugged him until he felt better, brushed his hair back and told him stories of the great Neil Josten who had survived his scars and was living his dream on the court. But Marcus was alone in the apartment. The bed felt too big, his room too empty and for the first time in a long time, Marcus felt entirely alone. He was used to having people only a whisper away, but no one would hear him even if he screamed at the top of his lungs. He had panicked in his fear, stumbling from his bed and fumbling on the doorknob, ultimately waking up Andrew in the process.
The man had opened his door silently, peeking his head out, hair making its appearance before his face.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Marcus croaked, eyes wide. He wanted to run at the man, bury his face in his chest and feel safe, but Andrew had other ideas. He had taken one look at Marcus and glanced back into his room. Marcus could see the silhouette of Neil in the bed, chest rising and falling in even breaths. Marcus knew the man had trouble sleeping, so he made no further noise. Marcus held himself as still as possible and he thought Andrew would shut the door in his face, he looked to tired. They had just played a whole game and here Marcus was making a whole problem.
But Andrew had stepped out and shut his bedroom door as softly as possible and led Marcus through the apartment to the front door. He fussed about, grabbing this and that, grumbling under his breath and Marcus was so tense he felt like he might shatter like glass if he made a single move. But Andrew had handed Marcus his shoes and coat before slipping on his own.
The boy had no idea of what to make of the man, but he slipped on his shoes all the same. The pair stepped out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. Andrew had jerked his head and Marcus followed him as they walked down the hall and to the elevator. Andrew pushed the button and Marcus risked a glance at him. The ends of his hair were a bit damp and Marcus wondered if he had showered.
The door dinged and slid aside for them. Andrew pushed another button and they stood in silence as the cart rose to the top floor, dinging proudly before sliding the doors open to reveal a dimly lit hall with no windows and no doors. It could have been a hospital, so sparse was the furniture. White wall and white floor tiles and a wooden railing on either side.
Marcus threw a confused glance at Andrew, but he simply led him down the hall and around a corner to a flight of stairs just as barren.
Andrew walked, hands searching his pockets, but Marcus did not follow. There was a bulge in his pocket that pushed on the thinning fabick, rectangular and small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The boy had become too accustomed to that sight and his body became numb as his brain shut down. He froze, running would only make it worse and he knew his parent had gotten mad if when he didn’t follow, but his legs didn’t move.
Andrew glanced over his shoulder when he reached the top of the stairs, staring at Marcus for a second and tracking his eyes. He grumbled again and dug around in his pocket, pulling out a box, wrapped in a ribbon.
“Neil wanted to give this to you.” He said and shrugged, holding it out. Marcus climbed the stairs, curiosity fueling his legs before his mind could stop himself. When he got close enough, Andrew pushed it to his chest. Marcus gripped it with both hands, not taking his eyes off Andrew.
It was a flip phone, fresh from the store. “It’s already programmed with our contacts. I don’t care if you use it or not, but we have a rule. A single rule that you follow not matter what.” It was the first either of them had said since they left the apartment and his voice echoed down the hall. Andrew held up a single finger and stared Marcus down. “You keep that on you at all times. You may never use it, but you keep that on you. Understand?”
Marcus gave him a wary look, hesitating, but he nodded after a moment, clutching the phone harder. He started at the box that hardly fit in his small hands, a tightness in his chest easing slightly. Marcus didn’t see Andrew’s face soften, but he watched his hand as it relaxed at his sides.
Andrew’s face didn’t change as he searched and struggled with his pockets before he pulled out a ring of keys. Neil’s hoodies seemed to fit differently every time Andrew wore them and he never put the stuff in the same pockets. Andrew cursed him and his cats under his breath, fingers finally finding the right key. He unlocked the waiting door in a quick jerk, pushing it open to the chill night and empty roof.
Andrew walked into the cold night, leaving the door open behind him.
An open invitation, he realized. Marcus could leave if he wanted to, walk back to the elevator and to the apartment or all the way back to the orphanage if he wanted to, but something about Andrew had made Marcus stand up straighter. His instincts weren’t on edge, but he felt concentrated when he was with Andrew, focused. So Marcus had waited until Andrew had seated himself in the center of the roof, laying on his back, before passing under the doorway.
He shut the door behind him and his senses immediately sharpened as the light vanished and the cold air nipped at his skin. A thick layer of gravel crunched under his shoes as he moved to stand next to Andrew’s still body and the distant sound of cars floated up to meet him. The apartment building was quite tall and the lights from the surrounding city didn’t quite reach the roof, but the moon was bright enough for Marcus to look around.
There was no fence and when Marcus strode to stand at the edge, he found no barrier between him and the sidewalk, far, far below. Gravel crunched behind him and Marcus found Andrew standing behind him, so close Marcus could hear the rustle of his clothes as he breathed.
He hadn’t even heard Andrew get up, but there he was, standing like a statue behind him. Something like fear flashed in Andrew’s eyes and only then did Marcus realize just how close he was to the edge. One step and he’d be gone. Dead.
“Neil doesn’t want you too close to the edge.” He said and looked to the door Marcus had shut as if expecting to see the man. Marcus nodded in understanding and stepped back, seating himself a ways away from the lip. He laid on his back like Andrew had, phone still tight to his chest. Gravel dug into his back and he could feel some sharp edges against his head, but he held himself still as Andrew followed him.
Andrew laid beside him, a good two feet between them. “I had a bad dream.” Marcus said and Andrew blew out a breath. Marcus tensed. The cold make it look like smoke.
Andrew noticed his muscles tighten and said, “Neil and I used to smoke.” Marcus nodded. He had smelt it in the apartment, nose always searching for the familiar stench that made his eyes burn and lungs stutter. “We don’t anymore.” Marcus nodded again, fingers tightening on the box.
“I know.” Marcus said. “I went through your trash. I hope you don’t mind, but I found the packets.” Marcus lifted his scarred hand and examined it in the moonlight. His fingers were shaking and his teeth were chattering softly, but he felt no cold. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. We didn’t do anything to deserve it.” Andrew said, but Marcus wasn’t having any of it.
“Yes, you did.” He said and spoke again before Andrew could shut him down. “Withdrawal is a scary thing.” Andrew did not speak. Neither pushing nor pulling and Marcus wanted to thank him for the silence. He didn’t just want to talk about what happened, though. He wanted to talk to Andrew, because if nothing else, Andrew was solid. Not stable and maybe not sane, but solid. “The police lady tried to make my parents quit when they had me, saying it was bad for me. I knew she was just being nice, but they did not like it when people told them what to do. That’s when they started to burn me.” His breathing was starting to grow ragged and his breath was becoming the smoke they had breathed in his face before they grabbed his face in their gray hands.
Andrew had been watching him from the corner of his eyes and when Marcus started to hyperventilate, he reached out and covered Marcus’s eyes with his hand.
It was scary at first. It always hurt more when he closed his eyes, but then Andrew said, “Breathe.” Marcus followed his command, pulling cold air into his lung, chest expanding. He smelt no smoke. There was no sound of a lighter flicking open, only the crunching of gravel as Andrew sat up.
Marcus calmed enough to speak, reminding himself that he only smelt the cold air and the scent of the detergent Andrew and Neil used. “They started with me feet. They said that if the smoke was bad for me, they could make it worse. They moved us after the school asked where I was and the police left us alone after that. They went to a bad area, but by then were done with my feet and had moved to my legs.” He shuddered and hot tears welled in his eyes. One tiny hand released his new phone and reached for Andrew. His hand was freezing compared to Andrew’s and the man released his eyes to rub at both of his hands.
Even without Andrew’s hand, he kept his eyes closed and he talked. “I told the teachers I had a skin condition and the older kids from the orphanage said that it was such a bad area they couldn’t do anything anyways.” He laughed under his breath, succumbing to hysteria as his memories took over. “Andrew.” He said, laughter subsided and voice suddenly becoming solem. “I can still feel it sometimes and it hurts.” He pulled his hand away from Andrew’s and brushed it over his face as if trying to remind himself that his skin had healed as best as it could and no scabs were left from where they burned him. “It always hurts.”
“Do you need to go anywhere?” Andrew was stone beside him, not breathing too hard and gripping his hand enough for Marcus to feel it, but not enough to feel like a vice. “I could hurt them, if you wanted to.” Andrew had felt anger before. He had felt rage and ferocity and an unending need to hurt, but he had never felt so hot because of it. His blood was boiling and his hand straining to a set Marcus’s parents on fire. There was lava in his veins and it burned to sit there and do nothing as Marcus suffered. His Marcus. His little boy who he had sworn to protect the moment after he’d seen him with that mask.
“No.” Marcus said. “You can’t.”
“Why?” Andrew knew he was proding, but it was inhuman to go through that much trama, that much pain and not want anything in return.
“Because they're dead.” Marcus said and finally opened his eyes.
Andrew was stunned into silence. Dead. This boy was an orphan. Andrew had thought the police had taken him and his parents locked away in some prison, but they were truly gone. Marcus had said can’t, not won’t or don’t, but can’t. Andrew could not hurt his parents because they were already dead.
“Did you?” Andrew asked, getting his voice back enough to ask. Marcus shook his head, just as choked as Andrew. “Did you see?” Marcus nodded. Andrew remained silent. If he wanted to talk, he would. And Marcus really did want to talk. He couldn’t tell the other students since it would scare them and Ms. Green had already been terrified of him. He had kept his story to himself and it suffocated him.
“The police officer who had first talked to my parents had found us against after a few years. She said she had come to see how I was doing.” He laughed again, eyes burning as he talked. “She had no idea about what they were doing to me.” His gaze was far away as he continued and Andrew recognized that stare. He had worn that stare for so long. “They had gotten to my face by then and I couldn’t hide it even if I want to. They had been sleeping when she came, so I was the one to open the door. I remember feeling my skin on my hands burn when I opened the door.” He was heaving and there was a weight on his chest that was pushing him into the ground him. Just like all those times his dad would hold him down and all the times his mom’s nails would sting when she gripped him. “She had taken me from the house and she put me in her car. She told me if I needed anything from the house and I had told her no, but she didn’t close the door when we left. She went back to close the door so it would talk them longer to realize I was gone. Someone had grabbed her when she reached for the door and I remember hearing yelling and then a bang. Then mommy came out of the house and there was blood on her face and then the police lady came out. Mommy was running to the car and I thought she was gonna take me, but then she fell and the police lady was on her back. They were fighting right outside the car and I wanted to get out, but I couldn’t more my fingers anymore.” He flexed them as if trying to remember how to move them. “Then mommy got police lady’s gun and put it in her mouth. Police lady stopped fighting, but mommy hadn’t shot yet. They got up and police lady stood in front of the window. They were talking, but I could hear them. And then there was the bang. Mommy wouldn’t get up after that.” He had started crying, but he didn’t remember when. “Andrew?” Marcus asked and Andrew almost didn’t hear him.
“Yeah?” He answered, not moving in case he scared the boy.
“Are you and Neil going to go die too?” Too much, Andrew realized. This boy had gone through too much. Marcus reached up and fisted his scarred hand in Andrew’s sweater. “I don’t want you and Neil to die.”
Andrew lifted the boy, going slow. He watched the boy’s face for any shift, any change in his expression, any tensing of his body. But Marcus remained limp and Andrew lifted him from the gravel, phone still clutched in his hand.
He set the boy on his lap and stared directly into his eyes. “No. Neil and I are not going to die.” Marcus seemed to accept that and leaned his head against Andrew’s chest.
“Good, because you two have to make it to semifinals next month.” He said, muffled against Andrew’s chest.
“You’re worse than he is.” Andrew almost laughed. “I might start calling you Junkie Jr.” He brushed his hand over the boy’s hair, not entirely knowing how to confort. But then he felt the boy’s ears. They felt like ice and now that he listened, he heard Marcus sniffing softly. “Let’s get you inside. Neil is probably going to yell at us, but I am going to make us some hot chocolate downstairs.” Marcus nodded and Andrew wrapped his arms around the boy, lifting him easily and heading for the promise of a hot beverage.
“Wait a minute.” He told the boy and Marcus nodded obediently. Neil narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Eventually, the cup cooled down enough for them to take a sip and Neil smiled softly at the two of them. “Two oh six.” Andrew said into his cup and Neil smiled a little wider.
Neil was indeed awake, hands on hips and a scowl on his face. He scolded Andrew for taking Marcus out without gloves and a hat, but he was most angry about the phone Marcus had clutched to his chest.
“We agreed I would give it to him.” Neil whined, handing Andrew and Marcus their steaming cups. Andrew shrugged and took Marcus’s cup before he burned his tongue.
Marcus glance between them and said. “One percent.”
AN: Sorry this took a hella of a long time. School had me stressed for a really long time and there are still some issues that need to be resolved. In short, I am dealing with a lot of isolation and anxiety rn and I needed a distraction so I wrote a part two.
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