liiiiiisten since @girloffourhouses mentioned wanting to know what a bad day for Wolffe looks like in Better Men Than The One Before Us after this post let's just say I genuinely could not resist. don't threaten me with a good time as they say ;) this one got super heavy btw like whewwwwww I couldn't stop
on the worst days Wolffe is always home late. it's usually a Thursday because those are the nights he often picks up an extra shift or an odd job. those days are long. especially in the beginning when he's so anxious about keeping enough money in his accounts to keep them in a house, keep putting food on the table, and to make sure he buys them new clothes whenever anything gets a hole in it.
he's grown quite anxious about their clothes, actually. Rex refuses to wear anything other than his favorite pair of overalls that are so worn through and thin and they are getting short at his ankles. Wolffe dreads the day they have to get him new ones. they will inevitably be too rough for his skin and he will cry and beg to have his old ones back. it happened with the one short sleeved shirt he wouldn't fuss about. it'll happen with the overalls too. and if their clothes don't fit right or have holes or tears then someone might think he isn't fit.
when he opens the door the house is quiet. an unnatural, tense quiet. his brothers all look up from where they're sitting in the living room. the way they look at him makes him sigh. something happened while he was gone. An extra bag of garbage, limp with empty air, and something blue and pointy showing through the bottom of the bag.
"We knocked over one of the bowls trying to have dinner. Rex grabbed it and it..." Cody trails off. they know they aren't supposed to let Rex use the glass bowls, even when he begs to. they are breakable and they can't replace them right now so there's a whole stack of plastic ones so there aren't any accidents.
the tentative air reminds him that he sets the tone for the house, the same way their father did. they're used to broken dishes and things that Wolffe doesn't want to think about but an angry man doesn't live at this house. not anymore.
so he tells them it's okay, they cleaned up the mess, it's just a broken dish. he'll take out the garbage. he doesn't bother to change or stop in the kitchen to see what they decided to make for dinner. he just grabs the bag and takes it outside, placing it in the trash bin.
he looks up at the sky then and just stares. tries to decide how many stars are really up there and if he can count them. if the breeze is cool enough to leave the windows open and avoid putting the AC on for as long as possible because last summer the bill was over $100 a month and it nearly killed him. he has to go back in. he has to hold himself together and ask about their days and make sure everyone gets to bed on time. he has to. but today he doesn't want to.
he doesn't want to have to shoulder so much when he's not even twenty years old yet. everyone else his age is thinking about college and what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Wolffe is still trying to figure out how they make it to next week. he's failing so miserably at being their guardian, at keeping them safe, that he wonders in that moment of weakness if being with him is really the best thing for them.
if there isn't someone out there who is better. who can give them things he can't. who can be there when they get off of school. someone who doesn't have to unplug every appliance in the house just to keep the bill something close to manageable. someone who doesn't have to work so hard just to hold it together.
maybe if he can't hold it together he'll be just like their father. a man who takes out every frustration on people who can't fight back. a man who can't control himself. that fear at the thought makes his chest hurt. is he just as bad? are they really better off with someone else?
he thinks of what his father would do if he felt like this. how he would've broken three more bowls to add to the shattered remains of the one. how he would've reached for the bottle and disappeared into the night for who knows how long. he thinks of what their house used to sound like and shudders.
he blinks back as much of the burning in his eyes as he can before going back inside.
they get more lively after he reassures them that it's not a big deal that they broke something. he lets them carry on and talk and argue. it is much better than the dead quiet he walked into. he stays relatively quiet the rest of the night, though. not ignoring his brothers. not because he's angry. because he's tired. because he doesn't want to get frustrated and snap at one of them or say something he regrets. being quiet is easier. he doesn't have to overthink everything he says if he just doesn't speak.
he falls asleep on the couch in the middle of them all watching a movie. he had wanted to go upstairs a whole hour ago but couldn't miss Rex's bedtime. by the time he blinks his eyes open the living room is empty, tv screen dark. he tries to sit up before he even noticed the blanket that had been laid over him, a pillow stuff under his head. somehow Rex got his stuffed lion to squeeze in Wolffe's arms before they carted him off to bed.
he smoothed his fingers over the fabric, feeling the softness of the fur and the spots where it had been held tight over the years, squishing the fluff inside so it grew floppier. the house is quiet again but this time it's not with that oppressive, dimness like before. he could go upstairs. Fox likely wasn't asleep, even if he was trying, so he didn't have to fear waking him. but there was something nice about the couch. about the signs that his brothers were there and had made sure he was comfortable before going upstairs on their own. it had nothing to do with not wanting to give up the lion quite yet absolutely not so he settles back down and pulls the blanket tighter and tries to ignore the way his throat tightens.
he isn't sure he's doing this right, never is, and sometimes that feeling threatens to choke him. but he wonders on nights like this, even when he can't seem to knock the storm cloud over his head, how their father could justify being so cruel. he doesn't understand how someone can claim to love you and yet hurt you every chance they get.
he hopes he never understands.
OKAY WELL THIS ONE GOT HEAVY AND LONG I'M SO SORRY
to me, Wolffe on a bad day is someone who really doubts himself and compares himself and is afraid of himself. someone who knows the responsibility he has and is afraid of ever abusing it. he gets depressed and melancholic and his brothers notice but let him have his space to sit and be quiet and to himself (this idea of Wolffe always being left to kind of wrangle his own feelings and no one ever making him talk will come up later)
he's such a good man with so much heart and so much sadness and anger and absolutely nowhere to put it. i love him so much :')
