#kittythorne

the first time is always a shock, earning a few anxious chuckles and gasps from the onlookers, but they don’t challenge it either. after all, thomas is annoying and self centered and overbearing and overemotional, and these people always like francis far more than they like him, and thus watching him get physically struck for talking too much or going on about his poetry or even just interjecting himself into the conversation can be, on some level, excused. francis presents himself as a reasonable person, after all, he’s spent a good amount of time building that reputation after all, and he’s had to deal with thomas for years now. with all his outbursts and clinginess and nonstop whining, it’s too easy for people to think that maybe thomas does deserve it, at least a little. he’ll wilt in the aftermath of the violence, but he always goes back to his usual self soon after, so in their eyes it’s not really affecting him that badly. no one feels the need to stick up for him, and some even encourage the abuse because it gets thomas to shut up for a bit.

then, cue his relationship to the other ghosts, in whatever au way they manifest here. thomas gets to know them on his own terms, outside of francis’s attempts to control his behavior and reputation (because oh, francis relies on thomas’s reputation being much worse than his, doesn’t he), and in spite of all of his flaws and obnoxious behaviors there’s still affection that develops there. for the first time, he’s experiencing real friendship—maybe even family, though thomas tries to ignore that thought. even though his new friends all still very dysfunctional and he does ending picking fights with them at point, he still feels much safer with them than he is with his own, “real” family, and he’s not sure what to think about that.

of course, francis is still his family as well, and it’s inevitable that thomas invites him over to properly meet his new friends rather than the brief polite pop ins he’s been doing. he rambles about him up until his visit, and mostly, he says positive things about him, because francis has taken care of him since they were little, and he considers the two of them to be relatively close, even after some time apart. there’s also some petty grievances sprinkled in there, of course, but he doesn’t say anything that indicates anything’s wrong with their relationship. when francis shows up at the door, alison greets him warmly, kitty and captain and pat all engage him in conversation, with the others chiming in every so often. he seems perfectly pleasant, charming even, and thomas is happy to see them all get along.

but then thomas fucks up, because he always fucks up. it’s not even anything that egregious, maybe he’s just a little too loud while he’s arguing his point against captain or julian, or he’s taking up too much of the conversation, or he says something that’s a bit rude but overall harmless because the people who love him know he’s prone to being a little too blunt and insensitive at times. and francis knows how long thomas has been around these people. he can see them rolling their eyes and sighing in response, and he knows that these people also see him as polite and reasonable. and so, believing the others won’t protest, he reaches over and he slaps thomas. and he slaps him hard, the sound horrifically loud in the small room. it’s almost certainly going to leave a mark.

it’s immediately obvious that it’s a miscalculation. the room goes deadly silent. mouths are open in shock, even those who moments before were openly frustrated by his cousin’s motormouth and hardheadedness. thomas wilts in shame as he always does, but the way he shakily cradles his cheek betrays that the reaction is different this time. unshed tears are burning in his eyes, because these are people who—well, they actually seem to care about him, they’re more his friends than francis’s friends for once, and now they’ve seen that this whole time, there was an easy way to shut him up that he’d been hiding from them. he’s trembling, curling in on himself, bowing his head to hide the bright red flush of humiliation on his face. he’s ready for the usual laughter and mockery that comes after the shock fades, and he wrestles back the anger and hurt rising in him because it always makes it worse to fight or lash out against it. always.

meanwhile, however, francis is trying to do damage control—oh, i’m sorry, i thought there was a fly near him, did i hurt you cousin, i apologize—unlike usual, though, no one’s buying it. something hardens in alison’s gaze, and there’s more venom in her voice than thomas has ever heard before, even considering all the times she’s been angry with him when she hisses get out. now.

francis tries to protest, insisting it was just an insect, but kitty tearfully tells him that there wasn’t, they know there wasn’t. fanny shakily says with rage guided by her own trauma that you still don’t just slap someone out of nowhere even if there is a fly around them, and the others murmur in agreement. captain mutters something about how it’s wrong to strike a man who’s not expecting it. there are hard eyes trained directly on francis, and for once, he’s taken off guard, because he’s not used to people taking thomas’s side over his.

he tries another tactic. he argues, well, come on, you all can’t tell me that none of you have ever thought about smacking thomas when he’s “acting out”. pat looks him dead in the eyes and says we’ve all wanted to smack each other at times, mate, but that doesn’t mean you can just do it. especially not when he’s not doing anything to ya.

thomas only just barely registers the fact that people are actually defending him. currently, he feels like he’s shaking apart, the enormity of what happened weighing on him. he nearly jumps out of his skin when julian of all people comes over to his side, silently putting a hand on his shoulder, and julian shushes him gently, gently squeezing. that’s when thomas finally breaks, and the tension is broken as he rapidly dissolves into loud, heart wrenching sobs. he’s never felt more embarrassed in his life. he’s never been more afraid. he’s never felt so…….pathetic, and that’s really saying something, given how weakness has permeated his life.

you’re going to leave now, alison states, an eerily calm rage in her voice, or we’re going to make you leave. make your choice.

thomas doesn’t see what francis chooses in the end. julian helps him to his feet, and humphrey surges forward to help when thomas nearly collapses on the spot. they take him up to the tv room and sit him on the couch, and he weeps uncontrollably as he’s given a cup of tea and a blanket, humphrey making the effort to wrap it comfortingly around his shoulders. julian puts on one of his favorite romcoms, only grumbling a little bit at the cheesiness of it all, and passes him a washcloth wrapped ice pack for his cheek. at some point, kitty joins him up there, settling down on the cushion next to him and taking his hand, murmuring something about how scary it was to watch her friend be hit with such viciousness. she’s sniffling softly, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s crying too, just more quietly than he is. he’s not sure what’s more embarrassing—being punished for his thoughtlessness in front of people he’s begun to think of as friends, or the way he immediately started crying like a baby about it. the physical pain is fine, he’s used to that, but the humiliation is harder to stomach. he’s embarrassed himself in front of all of them before but not like this.

when his sobs have slowed down enough he can finally breathe again, alison comes in, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of him at an angle so he can still see the tv. there’s a deep frown on her face, and he thinks with an ache in his chest that it doesn’t suit her. he hates that he’s the one who put that there, even though he’s long craved for her to worry about him and show him she cares about him in some way. now that he’s finally getting it, it doesn’t feel very good.

she’s so gentle that it paradoxically hurts when she takes his hand—thomas, she starts, more softly than she’s ever spoken to him before. has he hit you like that before today?

thomas inhales sharply and nods. his hand tightens on kitty’s. she squeezes back comfortingly, though her breath hitches tearfully.

alison looks unbearably sad at his response. thomas feels a little sick to his stomach. does he hit you a lot?

thomas’s bottom lip wobbles, hesitating. the way alison looks at him compels him to be honest, though, and he nods ever so slightly, even though the admission stings. alison’s frown deepens sympathetically. kitty sobs lightly next to him.

does he do anything else to you?

thomas’s heart leaps into his throat. his mind flickers to intimate touches he regrets begging for and harsh scoldings for soiled sheets and vomit stained clothes. he starts to hyperventilate, tears welling back up in his eyes.

you don’t have to answer that now, alison says quickly, fresh worry shining in her eyes. you’re safe now, okay? you’re safe. we’re not—he’s not gonna touch you again, okay?

she means it, kitty adds, and he looks up to meet her wet eyes with his own. there’s nothing but earnest kindness there. she helped me and fanny, she’s going to help you too.

thomas’s eyes drop to his lap, letting out a weak sob. he knows that’s true. alison has always helped him immeasurably, even though he has a tendency to get on her last nerve. his hand trembles in both of their hands, and suddenly he craves far more warmth and closeness than that.

can i—can i get a hug? he asks shakily, his voice still destroyed with tears. i just—i want—

kitty’s arms are around him immediately, squeezing him close. he buries his face in the side of her neck as best he can, even if the curve of his spine is uncomfortable. alison stands up as well, wrapping her arms loosely around both of them, and thomas breaks again, crying uncontrollably in their arms.

sorry, he whispers, barely able to choke out the words. ‘m sorry…

ssshh, it’s alright, alison murmurs, her voice full of affection and barely held back righteous anger. it’s okay. you’re safe, thomas. you’re safe.