1,2,3,4,5,6,7 (4/14)
Title: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7
Author: desperate2break
Rating: G
Pairing: Zack/Alex
Summary: When 12-year-old Alex's parents die in a sudden car crash, he has no other choice but to take his 7-year old brother, Pat, to live with their uncle, Zack - or does he? Seven years later he returns, haunted by secrets and seeking much more than just shelter....
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to anyone but me
Author Notes: Told you I'd be back with a new fic!!!
I'm sorry it's been a while - feel free to head over to my personal journal and pelt me with Hate Comments.
BTW, whichever "Pat" is in your mind is cool - I intended it to be Pat Kirch...Raise your hands if you also pictured him??
'You're up early for someone who got in at four,' Zack said quietly when he came downstairs the next morning. It was eight o' clock and he was shattered; he looked it too. He could feel the violet bags under his eyes and the downwards tug of his grey skin. Evidently Pat had already left for school.
Alex glanced up momentarily to look at his uncle, then found a sharp stab in his forehead and a dull thunk in his chest made it impossible to keep his gaze from the floor: a guilt hangover.
He mumbled something non-committantly and brought the cold coffee mug to his lips, trying not to shudder.
'Look, Alex,' Zack sighed, taking his keys from the counter and leaning over the young man. 'I wish I didn't care about you to the point where I could just accept that you spent the entire night outside with strangers. Problem is, I can't allow myself to let you gallavant like that; you may be legally an adult but you're my responsibility.' He placed a hand gently on Alex's shoulder. 'We'll talk tonight. Please, please don't do anything stupid.'
Alex froze as he felt lips graze the top of his newly washed hair and he waited until his uncle had left the room before he dared breathe again. It was as if there was an ice block where Zack's lips had been, and it made Alex shiver. He stood and tried to shake it off, but he found that it hurt his black eye, busted lip and hungover head.
*************
A small smile crossed Zack's face when he saw Alex's small frame curled up in front of the television; at least he'd heeded Zack's request - he hadn't even changed out of his pyjamas. Zack cocked his head as he watched his nephew. The boy never just sat or lay down: he was always curled up or in the foetal position. Right now his knees were up to his eyes and only the top of his head peeked out from the sofa's back.
'Hey,' Zack greeted softly so he wouldn't scare the boy. He jumped up nevertheless.
'Hi,' was the short reply.
'You okay?' Upon Alex's nod, Zack took a seat beside him and nudged him with his knee. 'Hungry?'
'Stop it,' Alex snapped. He could see Zack blinking in surprise out of the corner of his eye. 'It's like a fucking time bomb waiting to go off. I know you wanna talk about last night so let's fucking talk about it.' He threw the pillow out of his arms and stood properly, to his full height. 'You know where I was: I was whoring myself out 'cause I got fucking bored and needy. That's what we do; whores whore themselves. Are we done now?'
Zack stood and clung to Alex's arm so that he couldn't storm away. 'No, we are not done.' He looked his nephew in the eye and almost cried at what he saw. 'Is that what you've been doing all these years?'
'No,' Alex said lowly. He stared down his socked feet. 'I...I lived at hostel until I was fourteen.'
'Did you go to school? Do you have any SATs?'
'What is it with you and fucking education? Not everyone had a townhouse they could study in; I didn't have the time or the money to go to school every fucking day - not everyone has lunch money for every fucking day of the fucking month. So no, I don't have any fucking SATs.' He drew a deep breath. 'I stayed with boyfriends until I was seventeen and then I whored myself 'cause I needed money. And I needed money 'cause I wasn't rich like you. And I never will be.'
There was a pause.
'Are you fucking happy now?'
Zack's head was bowed.
The teenager tapped his foot impatiently and swore under his breath before attempting to walk away.
Then an arm reached out and grabbed him, and all he could smell was Hugo Boss and he was warm for the first time in seven years.
He was home.