#highclasstrashposts

Brandon "Mouse" McHolland (for @highclasstrashposts, who did most of this worldbuilding, honestly)

In the summer of 1985, a basket was left in front of Firehouse 51. Inside, there was a baby, and a blanket, and a note pinned to the fleece. There was no explanation, no number to call, no indication that whoever had left him there would return.

take care of Brandon for me

There weren't many people to take care of him - between Herrmann's new marriage and Boden's crumbling one, the number of homes he could go to was slim. But it would be worse if he was put into the system, being passed from one foster home to another without any kind of stability. If they wanted to follow the single instruction left in the note, and take care of the child that was left in their care, he needed a good life, someone constant in it, a support system he could always rely on no matter where life took him.

So, even if Mouch was the one who took him in, gave him food and a roof, it really did take a village to raise a child. While his name legally became Brandon McHolland, he had an entire firehouse to call family. He had uncles and cousins, even if none of them were related to him by blood. He had as many people to go to for advice as he could imagine, and plenty of space to roam around the firehouse when he started walking and saying more than babbled syllables.

When he still had trouble repeating a few names he heard around the firehouse, with the ch coming out closer to sh, he got his own silly nickname that wasn't far off from his adopted father's. By the time his age reached double digits, he answered to Mouse more than he answered to Brandon, and he almost preferred it that way. Even if they weren't family biologically, having a name, no matter how silly, that could be easily mistaken for another felt important to him. It gave him a connection to the most important person in his life beyond the same address and last name.

"No one cares more about abandoned babies than me."

Thanks for the prompt! I hope you like it, friend!

[send me a ship and a dialogue prompt]

9. Oh, and are you going to stop me?

Deke pulled his jacket on just after midnight, grabbing his keys and phone, and heading for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Daisy asked, leaning out from her room across the hall. She kept her voice down, at least, so the group home’s supervisor, Mary didn’t catch them out of bed after lights out. 

“Out,” Deke said. 

“Out,” Daisy echoed.

“Yeah, I can’t stay here,” Deke said, reaching for his zip on his jacket to do something with his hands. “I don’t - I don’t belong here.”

“No one belongs here. That’s what a group home is.”

Deke shook his head.

“There’s someone, an old friend of my dad’s, who might take me in,” Deke said. “I’m going to take my car and -”

“And what? Leave this home behind on the off change that this family friend might take you in? This place is one of the good places; you have your own room and we get fed every day. No one hits us.”

Deke looked down the hall towards the home mother, Tammy’s door. He ached for his mom sharp and sudden. 

“No, I’m going. I don’t want the highlights of my life to be at least they didn’t beat us.”

“I can’t let you go,” Daisy said.

“Oh, and are you going to stop me?”

Daisy paused, and followed his gaze towards Tammy’s door.

“No, but I am going with you,” she decided. “Wait here.”

She was gone, disappearing into her room. He considered leaving, but she was so cute and he wanted to take her anywhere she wanted to go. It didn’t matter where they went, he realized, as long as he was with her. She appeared out of the doorway, a bag on her shoulder, jacket pulled on. She grinned.

Professor X: hey quick question

linecook!Mouse for @highclasstrashposts