Adjusting to Another Lifestyle
Title: Adjusting to Another Lifestyle
Characters: Hartley Rathaway, Axel Walker, Len Snart, Owen Mercer
Word count: 2832
Summary: Hartley adjusts to life outside the manor. Takes place in my 'Ramblings of Another West'verse, around the time of 'Taking on Another Job'.
AN: Why do I keep trying to write confrontations, dammit? Also, here's a link to the start: Part 1
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The first few steps are strangely liberating.
Hartley lets out a long, unsteady breath and shrugs his bag higher onto his shoulders. He's out of the grounds and no alarms have been raised yet. He starts trudging down the long road toward Keystone City.
It's not the first time he's tried to run away, but Hartley's hoping it'll be the last. He's got a plan this time and food. Sensible food. The chef that had replaced Matthew - five years ago now - was thankfully just as nice toward Hartley. He'd made sure to have lots of 'hypothetical' discussions about what was best for living off without access to good appliances.
Hartley had set off at late evening and it isn't even midnight by the time he reaches Keystone. He starts looking for somewhere to sleep though, the walk having tired him out more than he expected it to. A puddle-filled alley is where Hartley makes his bed tonight.
Soup kitchens are just another way Hartley has to swallow his pride, a couple of weeks in. He doesn't have any food left and even the stench of unwashed masses in the kitchen is far preferable to dumpster diving for scraps. People are loud and knock into Hartley when they pass like he's not there, but there's a heater putting out a meagre waft of warmth and the broth tastes like actual food.
“You might've given me a bit of a run-around,” an oddly-familiar voice says, as a man plonks himself down on the bench next to Hartley, “Tried to cover your tracks a bit more. I'm being paid by the day, you know.”
Hartley's about to run, but then he realises he knows the man. “Axel?”
“You've gotten tall, squirt,” Axel says.
He's right, Hartley's pretty much level with him when they're sitting down. It's been years since Hartley's seen Axel, or Evan. He wonders if something more than them just growing up happened.
However, this isn't exactly the best time to catch up.
“You're going to bring me back, aren't you?” Hartley says.
“I'm not going to be able to afford a new TV otherwise,” Axel agrees.
Hartley starts to get up, but Axel tugs his sleeve and he sits back down. He has a feeling that if he tries to make a scene, Axel will find a way to twist things to his advantage.
“I'm not going,” Hartley says.
“Yes, you are,” Axel says, “Even if you manage to find a way to make a living out here and settle in, they're not going to stop at just me. You're still legally under their guardianship, they can drag you back kicking and screaming if they want to.”
Hartley sighs. He knows this, but hearing it makes it sound worse. “So I've got to go back for another year.”
“I didn't say that,” Axel says, with a grin that Evan once told Hartley meant 'trouble with a capital T', “You're going back - and it'll be easiest with me - but I'm sure we can arrange something to get you out of there before the day is up.”
“Out... permanently?”
There's a stirring of hope that Hartley hasn't felt for a long time. It's been ages since someone was ready to actively help him, instead of not daring to be anything more than passive-aggressive around his parents.
“Remember who you're talking to,” Axel says, “If I can't then I'll let you have the money your folks are paying me for this.”
“They aren't going to pay you if you talk-back to them on my behalf,” Hartley feels he should point out.
“If they don't pay me then I'll need to reconsider my profession,” Axel says cockily, “Come on, Hart, where's your sense of fun?”
And there's the taunt that used to get Hartley to do things he would've never considered otherwise. Evan had promised adventure, Axel always promised fun.
“This is a little more serious than tree-climbing or sneaking out for ice-cream,” Hartley says, trying to tamper his excitement down and failing, judging by the grin on Axel's face, “...you can really get me out?”
“Cross my heart,” Axel says flippantly.
“...ok.”
Axel fills the drive to Hartley's home with mindless chatter. Hartley runs over what he wants to say to his parents again and again in his head. The closer they get, the more Hartley's insides seem to be trying to tie themselves up in knots.
The Rathaways' manor has never looked so imposing to Hartley as it does when he makes the walk from the outside gate to the front door. It's frighteningly tall and the sun's cast the place in haunting shadows. Hartley just concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other until he's face to face with the heavy wooden doors.
His knock echoes ominously through the house. Hartley's beginning to think that the entire place was built around scare-tactics in order to give the Rathaways the best advantage available.
Even the way the door creaks open seems to be perfectly designed to sound as unnerving as possible.
By the time Hartley's escorted to his father's study his hands are shaking and he stuffs them in his pockets to stop it showing. Axel's looking completely calm and Hartley nearly hates him for it. But then Axel has no real connection to Osgood Rathaway, except for investigator services rendered. Hartley bets that Axel would be a lot more nervous if he had to confront his own father.
Osgood's sat at his desk, writing something that Hartley can't read upside-down. He doesn't even glance up when the butler announces Hartley and Axel. Hartley's used to it, but Axel's got an impatient look on his face that Hartley recognises as a sign of bad things to come.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Osgood says harshly without looking up.
Hartley opens and closes his mouth a few times before managing to stutter out, “...I-I only came back to say I'm leaving.”
Axel flashes what Hartley hopes is an approving grin. Osgood stops writing and Hartley does his best not to flinch as his father looks up, absolute fury plain on his face.
“What?” Osgood snaps.
Hartley's thankful Axel chose to accompany him, there's no way he would've been able to stand up to Osgood without some kind of backup. It's still difficult.
“I'm not staying here,” Hartley says, wavering under Osgood's glare, but standing his ground.
“This again?” Osgood snorts. His eyes flick to the side as he properly notices Axel, “You have no right to be here, leave.”
Axel coughs and smiles. “There's the matter of my fee...”
“How much?” Osgood barks.
Axel rattles off a number that makes Hartley stare at him, but Osgood just scribbles down the amount on a cheque and hands it over without complaint. Axel puts the cheque into an inside pocket of his coat and gives Hartley a look.
“I'm leaving,” Hartley says again, though if the eye-roll from Axel is any indication his tone isn't what it was before.
“You have duties as my heir and you will not be seen making a fool of yourself wandering around like some vagrant!” Osgood snaps.
Even though Hartley had been expecting that he feels the words like a slap to the face.
“You don't care that I was mugged twice and nearly killed?” Hartley says, swallowing hard, “You only care if someone sent a photo of it to a newspaper?”
“Hartley,” Osgood starts, but his voice hasn't softened in the slightest.
“No,” Hartley snaps out, “No. I'm not going to listen to someone who doesn't care if I die, just that I die in a way that doesn't look bad. Well there goes my plan of overdosing in a gaybar.”
“Hartley!” Osgood's sounding angry, but Hartley's not paying it attention through his own red haze, “You are a Rathaway and I expect you to behave like one.”
“Well maybe I don't want to be a Rathaway any more! Have you considered that, father?” Hartley shouts.
“You will behave as deemed appropriate for your station and family!” Osgood shouts, “Or I will never call you my son again!”
Hartley takes an involuntary step backward. There's a perfectly surreal moment when he realises he's not afraid of this man any more. Being on the wrong end of a knife for less than five dollars worth of food was much scarier than Osgood Rathaway's fury.
“Well it looks like we've got a deal,” Hartley says quietly, “I'm not your son.”
“You think this is a laughing matter, boy?” Osgood snaps, still furious.
“No,” Hartley says, with a calm he didn't know he possessed, “I am not going to stop fighting your order. I will run away every chance I get. I will do what I can to ensure the destruction of your company and name.” Hartley balls his fists and squeezes his eyes shut, “Unless you disown me. Let me go and leave me alone and the Rathaway name will be safe.”
“This is very serious, Hartley,” Osgood says, the edge gone from his temper, though he's still far from calm and quiet, “You have been granted wealth and power purely by birthright. Are you truly going to throw all that away because you don't have the sense to point your teenage rebellion in a more constructive direction?”
“Goodbye, Mr Rathaway,” Hartley says, turning for the door before his heart can be stomped on further. There's no call for him to stop. Hartley feels himself start to tremble and can't make it stop.
“I'll take my leave too,” Axel says, a steely bite to his voice that Hartley hasn't heard before, “After what happened to my brother and Hart here, I pity the next person to be chosen as your heir.”
“Get off my property,” Osgood snaps, “I didn't pay you for your remarks.”
Already, Hartley's forgotten. He lets out a shaky breath and bites his lip, determined to get out of this hell-hole before letting things overwhelm him. There's a hand at Hartley's elbow and Axel's steering him through the manor. Hartley's grateful for the quick pace and keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. Outside the air feels so much lighter and Hartley gulps it down like he's been trapped underwater. The shaking has stopped and what's left is just a numbness that sinks into every fibre of Hartley's being.
Axel drives Hartley silently through Keystone and eventually parks the car. Hartley jerks out of his daze when they come to a stop and is suddenly quite aware that he has no idea where he is. Axel's already out of the car though, so Hartley fumbles with his seatbelt and gets out.
The car bleeps as it locks behind Hartley and he hurries after Axel. Axel leads him into a building and up a couple of flights of stairs. Axel unlocks one of the doors and swears as it catches on the security chain. He wriggles his hand through the gap and unhooks the chain.
Hartley follows him inside into a messy apartment. Axel shuts the door behind them just as a man emerges from further into the flat.
“You could just knock,” the man says scowling at Axel.
“Where's the fun in that?” Axel replies with a grin.
“Who's that?” the man asks, nodding toward Hartley.
“Dad, this is Hartley,” Axel says, “Hartley, this is my dad, Len.”
Hartley can't see any link to Axel, but Len does look somewhat like his memories of Evan.
“The Rathaway's kid, right?” Len says a dark look overtaking his face.
“Yes, sir,” Hartley says.
“Lighten up,” Axel says, “He's just been booted out.”
Len does relax a little, then he realises why they're there.
“No,” Len says, folding his arms, “Absolutely not. I'm done with that. Done. You hear me?”
“Could've persuaded me if it hadn't been for Owen,” Axel says with malicious glee.
There's a pause and Hartley finds himself holding his breath.
“Dammit,” Len runs a hand over his face and through his hair, “You're a manipulative little shit sometimes, you know that.”
Axel just grins and slips through a door into another room - possibly the kitchen from what Hartley saw of the linoleum flooring.
That's left Hartley alone with Len.
Oh dear. Aside from a kid with a funny voice and his little brother, Hartley's never been that great at making a good impression.
“I'm getting too old for this,” Len mutters, then he looks over Hartley appraisingly, “Alright, you're in Axel's old room. Dinner's whenever I get around to making it, other meals you'll have to fend for yourself. Let me know if you're allergic or some other shit.”
“I don't think so...” Hartley says carefully.
“Good,” Len says, gesturing for Hartley to follow him further into the apartment, “No drugs. I don't care if you drink, but you get plastered and throw up anywhere other than the toilet, you're cleaning it up yourself. Hangover or no.”
“Yes, sir.”
Len looks over his shoulder at Hartley. “It's Len, not whatever manners you've learned. They're not gonna do you any good here.”
“Yes, s- Len.”
“You sticking with 'Hartley'?” Len asks.
“I... I wouldn't know what else to call myself,” Hartley replies.
“Hmm,” Len shows Hartley into a room cluttered with boxes, “This is it. I'll get Axel to see if he can't shift some of this junk to his own place.”
“Thank you,” Hartley says, trying to put across all his sincerity, “Really.”
“I'm on a four-to-ten at the moment,” Len says and if Hartley doesn't know any better, he'd think Len's looking a little embarrassed, “Owen - he's living here as well right now - he's on shifts, this week it's twelve-to-six, next week it's six-to-midnight.”
Hartley's confused, but nods along. Len reads his bewilderment and clarifies that he was on about job hours. Hartley puts his bag down near the bed and finds he doesn't know what to do with himself.
He's really... free.
Hartley sits down heavily on the bed. Everything's catching up with him at once. He's left home - for real this time. It unlikely he'll ever see his parents again. Or any of the staff at the manor. Or...
Freedom's heavier than he expected.
Len sticks his head out of the door and shouts for Axel. Hartley spends the rest of the afternoon being beaten by Axel at video games. It works well enough as a distraction.
Owen turns out to be another teenager, about the same age as Hartley but taller, his hair's a darker red and he tends to slouch. Hartley hasn't been able to get his story out of Axel or Len, who both make it clear that it's Owen's tale to tell.
Axel leaves after dinner and Owen shuts himself in his room. Hartley dithers for a moment or two, then follows suit, picking through his belongings and sorting what he can.
Hartley can't sleep that night. After tossing and turning for some time, he decides to take a short walk and have a drink of water. The apartment feels even stranger without the lights on and Hartley wishes he'd paid closer attention to where the switches were.
There's footsteps and another person switches the lights on. It's Owen. The other teenage looks as wary as Hartley feels. It's a little awkward, but they both end up with a glass of water, sipping them in silence under the florescent lights.
“So,” Hartley's voice cracks and he has to cough to get it working again.
“So,” Owen agrees.
“I got disowned by my father,” Hartley says, then immediately regrets it.
“Shit, that's rough,” Owen says. He gnaws on his knuckle for a few moments before relenting, “My dad's in prison.”
“Ouch,” Hartley sympathises, “Is he a good dad?”
“I only met him a few months ago,” Owen replies, “But he's been great. Last time I saw him outside...”
Owen and Hartley spend a good few hours trading stories. Owen talks about meeting his father for the first time and his job at the cinema. Hartley talks about running away and meeting Evan and Axel as a child.
“Wait, Evan? Axel's brother, Len's kid, and all around cokehead? That Evan?” Owen asks after Hartley mentions Evan for the fifth time.
“Cokehead?”
Hartley's never really had any childhood heroes, but if there was someone who could make a claim to that title, it would have been Evan. Finding out his history of drug abuse from Owen knocks him off the pedestal that Hartley hadn't realised he'd been keeping him on.
Eventually they stop talking and head back to bed. Hartley only sleeps because he's exhausted. His mind kept running until he passed out on the unfamiliar (yet amazingly comfortable after a fortnight of slumming it) bed.
When Hartley wakes up the next day there's voices drifting through the door and the creak of the plumbing. Hartley stretches and gets up. Time to face this new lifestyle and get used to it.
Characters: Hartley Rathaway, Axel Walker, Len Snart, Owen Mercer
Word count: 2832
Summary: Hartley adjusts to life outside the manor. Takes place in my 'Ramblings of Another West'verse, around the time of 'Taking on Another Job'.
AN: Why do I keep trying to write confrontations, dammit? Also, here's a link to the start: Part 1
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The first few steps are strangely liberating.
Hartley lets out a long, unsteady breath and shrugs his bag higher onto his shoulders. He's out of the grounds and no alarms have been raised yet. He starts trudging down the long road toward Keystone City.
It's not the first time he's tried to run away, but Hartley's hoping it'll be the last. He's got a plan this time and food. Sensible food. The chef that had replaced Matthew - five years ago now - was thankfully just as nice toward Hartley. He'd made sure to have lots of 'hypothetical' discussions about what was best for living off without access to good appliances.
Hartley had set off at late evening and it isn't even midnight by the time he reaches Keystone. He starts looking for somewhere to sleep though, the walk having tired him out more than he expected it to. A puddle-filled alley is where Hartley makes his bed tonight.
Soup kitchens are just another way Hartley has to swallow his pride, a couple of weeks in. He doesn't have any food left and even the stench of unwashed masses in the kitchen is far preferable to dumpster diving for scraps. People are loud and knock into Hartley when they pass like he's not there, but there's a heater putting out a meagre waft of warmth and the broth tastes like actual food.
“You might've given me a bit of a run-around,” an oddly-familiar voice says, as a man plonks himself down on the bench next to Hartley, “Tried to cover your tracks a bit more. I'm being paid by the day, you know.”
Hartley's about to run, but then he realises he knows the man. “Axel?”
“You've gotten tall, squirt,” Axel says.
He's right, Hartley's pretty much level with him when they're sitting down. It's been years since Hartley's seen Axel, or Evan. He wonders if something more than them just growing up happened.
However, this isn't exactly the best time to catch up.
“You're going to bring me back, aren't you?” Hartley says.
“I'm not going to be able to afford a new TV otherwise,” Axel agrees.
Hartley starts to get up, but Axel tugs his sleeve and he sits back down. He has a feeling that if he tries to make a scene, Axel will find a way to twist things to his advantage.
“I'm not going,” Hartley says.
“Yes, you are,” Axel says, “Even if you manage to find a way to make a living out here and settle in, they're not going to stop at just me. You're still legally under their guardianship, they can drag you back kicking and screaming if they want to.”
Hartley sighs. He knows this, but hearing it makes it sound worse. “So I've got to go back for another year.”
“I didn't say that,” Axel says, with a grin that Evan once told Hartley meant 'trouble with a capital T', “You're going back - and it'll be easiest with me - but I'm sure we can arrange something to get you out of there before the day is up.”
“Out... permanently?”
There's a stirring of hope that Hartley hasn't felt for a long time. It's been ages since someone was ready to actively help him, instead of not daring to be anything more than passive-aggressive around his parents.
“Remember who you're talking to,” Axel says, “If I can't then I'll let you have the money your folks are paying me for this.”
“They aren't going to pay you if you talk-back to them on my behalf,” Hartley feels he should point out.
“If they don't pay me then I'll need to reconsider my profession,” Axel says cockily, “Come on, Hart, where's your sense of fun?”
And there's the taunt that used to get Hartley to do things he would've never considered otherwise. Evan had promised adventure, Axel always promised fun.
“This is a little more serious than tree-climbing or sneaking out for ice-cream,” Hartley says, trying to tamper his excitement down and failing, judging by the grin on Axel's face, “...you can really get me out?”
“Cross my heart,” Axel says flippantly.
“...ok.”
Axel fills the drive to Hartley's home with mindless chatter. Hartley runs over what he wants to say to his parents again and again in his head. The closer they get, the more Hartley's insides seem to be trying to tie themselves up in knots.
The Rathaways' manor has never looked so imposing to Hartley as it does when he makes the walk from the outside gate to the front door. It's frighteningly tall and the sun's cast the place in haunting shadows. Hartley just concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other until he's face to face with the heavy wooden doors.
His knock echoes ominously through the house. Hartley's beginning to think that the entire place was built around scare-tactics in order to give the Rathaways the best advantage available.
Even the way the door creaks open seems to be perfectly designed to sound as unnerving as possible.
By the time Hartley's escorted to his father's study his hands are shaking and he stuffs them in his pockets to stop it showing. Axel's looking completely calm and Hartley nearly hates him for it. But then Axel has no real connection to Osgood Rathaway, except for investigator services rendered. Hartley bets that Axel would be a lot more nervous if he had to confront his own father.
Osgood's sat at his desk, writing something that Hartley can't read upside-down. He doesn't even glance up when the butler announces Hartley and Axel. Hartley's used to it, but Axel's got an impatient look on his face that Hartley recognises as a sign of bad things to come.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Osgood says harshly without looking up.
Hartley opens and closes his mouth a few times before managing to stutter out, “...I-I only came back to say I'm leaving.”
Axel flashes what Hartley hopes is an approving grin. Osgood stops writing and Hartley does his best not to flinch as his father looks up, absolute fury plain on his face.
“What?” Osgood snaps.
Hartley's thankful Axel chose to accompany him, there's no way he would've been able to stand up to Osgood without some kind of backup. It's still difficult.
“I'm not staying here,” Hartley says, wavering under Osgood's glare, but standing his ground.
“This again?” Osgood snorts. His eyes flick to the side as he properly notices Axel, “You have no right to be here, leave.”
Axel coughs and smiles. “There's the matter of my fee...”
“How much?” Osgood barks.
Axel rattles off a number that makes Hartley stare at him, but Osgood just scribbles down the amount on a cheque and hands it over without complaint. Axel puts the cheque into an inside pocket of his coat and gives Hartley a look.
“I'm leaving,” Hartley says again, though if the eye-roll from Axel is any indication his tone isn't what it was before.
“You have duties as my heir and you will not be seen making a fool of yourself wandering around like some vagrant!” Osgood snaps.
Even though Hartley had been expecting that he feels the words like a slap to the face.
“You don't care that I was mugged twice and nearly killed?” Hartley says, swallowing hard, “You only care if someone sent a photo of it to a newspaper?”
“Hartley,” Osgood starts, but his voice hasn't softened in the slightest.
“No,” Hartley snaps out, “No. I'm not going to listen to someone who doesn't care if I die, just that I die in a way that doesn't look bad. Well there goes my plan of overdosing in a gaybar.”
“Hartley!” Osgood's sounding angry, but Hartley's not paying it attention through his own red haze, “You are a Rathaway and I expect you to behave like one.”
“Well maybe I don't want to be a Rathaway any more! Have you considered that, father?” Hartley shouts.
“You will behave as deemed appropriate for your station and family!” Osgood shouts, “Or I will never call you my son again!”
Hartley takes an involuntary step backward. There's a perfectly surreal moment when he realises he's not afraid of this man any more. Being on the wrong end of a knife for less than five dollars worth of food was much scarier than Osgood Rathaway's fury.
“Well it looks like we've got a deal,” Hartley says quietly, “I'm not your son.”
“You think this is a laughing matter, boy?” Osgood snaps, still furious.
“No,” Hartley says, with a calm he didn't know he possessed, “I am not going to stop fighting your order. I will run away every chance I get. I will do what I can to ensure the destruction of your company and name.” Hartley balls his fists and squeezes his eyes shut, “Unless you disown me. Let me go and leave me alone and the Rathaway name will be safe.”
“This is very serious, Hartley,” Osgood says, the edge gone from his temper, though he's still far from calm and quiet, “You have been granted wealth and power purely by birthright. Are you truly going to throw all that away because you don't have the sense to point your teenage rebellion in a more constructive direction?”
“Goodbye, Mr Rathaway,” Hartley says, turning for the door before his heart can be stomped on further. There's no call for him to stop. Hartley feels himself start to tremble and can't make it stop.
“I'll take my leave too,” Axel says, a steely bite to his voice that Hartley hasn't heard before, “After what happened to my brother and Hart here, I pity the next person to be chosen as your heir.”
“Get off my property,” Osgood snaps, “I didn't pay you for your remarks.”
Already, Hartley's forgotten. He lets out a shaky breath and bites his lip, determined to get out of this hell-hole before letting things overwhelm him. There's a hand at Hartley's elbow and Axel's steering him through the manor. Hartley's grateful for the quick pace and keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. Outside the air feels so much lighter and Hartley gulps it down like he's been trapped underwater. The shaking has stopped and what's left is just a numbness that sinks into every fibre of Hartley's being.
Axel drives Hartley silently through Keystone and eventually parks the car. Hartley jerks out of his daze when they come to a stop and is suddenly quite aware that he has no idea where he is. Axel's already out of the car though, so Hartley fumbles with his seatbelt and gets out.
The car bleeps as it locks behind Hartley and he hurries after Axel. Axel leads him into a building and up a couple of flights of stairs. Axel unlocks one of the doors and swears as it catches on the security chain. He wriggles his hand through the gap and unhooks the chain.
Hartley follows him inside into a messy apartment. Axel shuts the door behind them just as a man emerges from further into the flat.
“You could just knock,” the man says scowling at Axel.
“Where's the fun in that?” Axel replies with a grin.
“Who's that?” the man asks, nodding toward Hartley.
“Dad, this is Hartley,” Axel says, “Hartley, this is my dad, Len.”
Hartley can't see any link to Axel, but Len does look somewhat like his memories of Evan.
“The Rathaway's kid, right?” Len says a dark look overtaking his face.
“Yes, sir,” Hartley says.
“Lighten up,” Axel says, “He's just been booted out.”
Len does relax a little, then he realises why they're there.
“No,” Len says, folding his arms, “Absolutely not. I'm done with that. Done. You hear me?”
“Could've persuaded me if it hadn't been for Owen,” Axel says with malicious glee.
There's a pause and Hartley finds himself holding his breath.
“Dammit,” Len runs a hand over his face and through his hair, “You're a manipulative little shit sometimes, you know that.”
Axel just grins and slips through a door into another room - possibly the kitchen from what Hartley saw of the linoleum flooring.
That's left Hartley alone with Len.
Oh dear. Aside from a kid with a funny voice and his little brother, Hartley's never been that great at making a good impression.
“I'm getting too old for this,” Len mutters, then he looks over Hartley appraisingly, “Alright, you're in Axel's old room. Dinner's whenever I get around to making it, other meals you'll have to fend for yourself. Let me know if you're allergic or some other shit.”
“I don't think so...” Hartley says carefully.
“Good,” Len says, gesturing for Hartley to follow him further into the apartment, “No drugs. I don't care if you drink, but you get plastered and throw up anywhere other than the toilet, you're cleaning it up yourself. Hangover or no.”
“Yes, sir.”
Len looks over his shoulder at Hartley. “It's Len, not whatever manners you've learned. They're not gonna do you any good here.”
“Yes, s- Len.”
“You sticking with 'Hartley'?” Len asks.
“I... I wouldn't know what else to call myself,” Hartley replies.
“Hmm,” Len shows Hartley into a room cluttered with boxes, “This is it. I'll get Axel to see if he can't shift some of this junk to his own place.”
“Thank you,” Hartley says, trying to put across all his sincerity, “Really.”
“I'm on a four-to-ten at the moment,” Len says and if Hartley doesn't know any better, he'd think Len's looking a little embarrassed, “Owen - he's living here as well right now - he's on shifts, this week it's twelve-to-six, next week it's six-to-midnight.”
Hartley's confused, but nods along. Len reads his bewilderment and clarifies that he was on about job hours. Hartley puts his bag down near the bed and finds he doesn't know what to do with himself.
He's really... free.
Hartley sits down heavily on the bed. Everything's catching up with him at once. He's left home - for real this time. It unlikely he'll ever see his parents again. Or any of the staff at the manor. Or...
Freedom's heavier than he expected.
Len sticks his head out of the door and shouts for Axel. Hartley spends the rest of the afternoon being beaten by Axel at video games. It works well enough as a distraction.
Owen turns out to be another teenager, about the same age as Hartley but taller, his hair's a darker red and he tends to slouch. Hartley hasn't been able to get his story out of Axel or Len, who both make it clear that it's Owen's tale to tell.
Axel leaves after dinner and Owen shuts himself in his room. Hartley dithers for a moment or two, then follows suit, picking through his belongings and sorting what he can.
Hartley can't sleep that night. After tossing and turning for some time, he decides to take a short walk and have a drink of water. The apartment feels even stranger without the lights on and Hartley wishes he'd paid closer attention to where the switches were.
There's footsteps and another person switches the lights on. It's Owen. The other teenage looks as wary as Hartley feels. It's a little awkward, but they both end up with a glass of water, sipping them in silence under the florescent lights.
“So,” Hartley's voice cracks and he has to cough to get it working again.
“So,” Owen agrees.
“I got disowned by my father,” Hartley says, then immediately regrets it.
“Shit, that's rough,” Owen says. He gnaws on his knuckle for a few moments before relenting, “My dad's in prison.”
“Ouch,” Hartley sympathises, “Is he a good dad?”
“I only met him a few months ago,” Owen replies, “But he's been great. Last time I saw him outside...”
Owen and Hartley spend a good few hours trading stories. Owen talks about meeting his father for the first time and his job at the cinema. Hartley talks about running away and meeting Evan and Axel as a child.
“Wait, Evan? Axel's brother, Len's kid, and all around cokehead? That Evan?” Owen asks after Hartley mentions Evan for the fifth time.
“Cokehead?”
Hartley's never really had any childhood heroes, but if there was someone who could make a claim to that title, it would have been Evan. Finding out his history of drug abuse from Owen knocks him off the pedestal that Hartley hadn't realised he'd been keeping him on.
Eventually they stop talking and head back to bed. Hartley only sleeps because he's exhausted. His mind kept running until he passed out on the unfamiliar (yet amazingly comfortable after a fortnight of slumming it) bed.
When Hartley wakes up the next day there's voices drifting through the door and the creak of the plumbing. Hartley stretches and gets up. Time to face this new lifestyle and get used to it.