#erm woops

It had been almost two months since Simon had left home, yet there was still something inside of him that wanted to go back. It was the only place he had ever and probably would ever call home. A place of shelter and warmth and family. A place where no matter how bad he'd fucked up he could return and be met with a hug and a bed.

But not this time.

This time he was stuck lying in the bed he'd made. If only he had taken a different way home. If only he had called in sick like he'd wanted to. If only he'd gone out for drinks like he'd been ask.

But life wasn't a choose your own adventure game. He couldn't go back and redo that part of his life. The ifs were only ifs.

Simon flipped over onto his back, sprawled out on the floor if a house that didn't feel like home. Sure, there was a part of him that wanted it to be home, to trust the people that now, for some reason, called him brother. But he couldn't. These people weren't his family. His family was taken from him by people just like them and while he knew it wasn't fair, they weren't even in the same city, he blamed them. 

Biting his lip, Simon brought his left foot up to his face and took off his shoe, pulling out a bent and torn photograph that looked several years old but had really only been taken a few months ago on Christmas. His last human Christmas.

He sat up and unfolded the photo, smoothing it out and running a finger over the white creases that had formed. His family. The older couple in the photo, even though they weren't his birth parents, had made the few years he'd been with them almost make up for his rough and rocky childhood. They had taken a rude, fragile little boy and turned him into someone he was proud of... a man who had gone the day he'd almost killed someone. The day he'd left.

He missed them. He had told himself that day and every day since that they meant nothing to him; that he could leave them just as easily as he had done every other foster home he'd ever been in. Even then he knew he was lying to himself.

Simon was homesick. He missed his parents and his job and his life. Things had just finally turned around for him and then they were taken away. 

It had been two months. Two months since he'd talked to them-- the police had probably given up, if they had even been called in the first place. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Stanford hadn't cared that he had just vanished one day. 

There was a small part of him that fought against these feelings though. They had adopted him just months before he was legally of age. They had got him to stop stealing and getting in fights-- well, as best as they could. But the big thing was that they had taught Simon what it was like to be apart of a family. One that loved and cared for you. 

Maybe there was something to this whole pack thing.

No. Everyone eventually left. Simon knew that. It had happened just about every single time before. But didn't he leave the Stanfords? Wasn't he the one to vanish without saying goodbye?

Maybe it was time to give some sort of closure.

Simon shuffled up and sat on the floor, against the bed. He pulled the phone off the nightstand and rested it on his knees, pulling the receiver off the hook. He dialed the familiar number quickly before he talked himself out of it, his heart thudding louder with every ring.

"Hello?"

It was Mrs. Stanford.

Simon's heart thudded loudly in his chest and he thought about slamming the phone back on the hook, "..Hello?" There was another short pause, "..Simon?"

His heart stopped. Her voice sounded so hopeful. Simon bit his lip harder and let out a strangled sob he didn't even know he was holding in, "Mom.."

There was a gasp on the other end of the line.

"Oh, sweetheart-- where are you? Are you okay? What's going on?" A million questions poured from the phone and Simon swallowed hard, reeling himself back in.

"I'm fine.. I can't tell you where I am, but I couldn't stay there... with you both. It-- it wasn't safe." Simon paused, "I'm sorry."

"Just come home, okay? Whatever's wrong..whatever is making you feel unsafe, we can fix it. I promise. If you.. recognized someone in town or-- Honey, we can move. We can go wherever you want to go... we just want you to come home, okay? Just come home.." She sounded close to tears then... this was a bad idea.

"No-- Mo--Mrs. Stanford... you weren't safe.. from me. But-- I'm getting help, okay? I promise, I'm getting help and maybe I can come see you when the weather gets warmer.. maybe.."

"Mrs. Stanford? Simon, you haven't called me that in over a year.. is this about your anger.. problem? Did you-- were you thinking about your.. birth father again? You're nothing like him, okay? You've got to remember that." Her voice was worried.

"I... it's not like that time. It's worse... you're just going to have to trust me. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You deserved someone so much better than me.. and now you can find him. I don't think I'll be coming back. I'm sorry I said that... I have to go."

"Simon-- wait, please don--" 

He hung up the phone and wiped away the tears that ran steadily down his face. He hadn't realized he was shaking until he looked down at the phone, watching it rattle and threaten to tip off his knees. 

Simon let out an animalistic growl and hurled the phone at the wall, leaving a nice sized hole and phone that was most probably broken.

Family was a scary, shitty place to be.