RP LOG with sonofacopper | Shared genes, or no shared genes... that is the question
There was many times over the course of the night that Euan found himself reaching for his mobile to call Gee. He stopped himself every time, though, telling himself that wasn’t how he wanted this to all go down. Truth of the matter was, he had no idea how she was going to take this turn of events, especially considering things were so up in the air between them. For the moment, though, there was only one thing Euan could really focus on and after Vee had left, taking a small collection of her own scrawled notes with the little details on Ciaran they had, Euan had just sat in on of his arm chairs and watched the lad sleep.
It wasn’t a restful sleep by any means. He shifted a lot in his sleep and at one point there, it was evident he was having a nightmare. Euan didn’t know what to do. He was still waiting to wake up and realise this was all his own nightmare. It wasn’t something he had ever in his life stopped to consider might be a possibility, and certainly not in the form of a teenage kid showing up calling him daddy. This was bullshit that happened in movies, not real life. At lot of things went through his mind as the hours ticked away; everything from wondering what the hell would have happened if he had just stayed in New York to letting the delusion slip just a little to wonder what his parents would have thought of the kid... if they would have been proud of Euan for producing something like that. Though considering the circumstances, all Euan could feel was guilt that a child was creating from that horrible, dark world he had been involved in. It was part of him he wanted to leave behind and not revisit, but now he had no choice but to at least think about it.
He just didn’t realise that the lad’s fitful sleep seemed to be pointing to the fact he was ill. That didn’t come to light until the kid was waking up abruptly at around four am and barfing all over Euan’s floor. “Oh Jesus freaking hell,” Euan swore, shooting out of his chair to grab the boy’s arm. “You’re not real into forewarnings, are you, lad? It’s alright... it’s okay, aye. Kinda get how you’re feeling right now.” Helping him sit up, Euan side-stepped the pile of puke when Ciaran finally stopped throwing up for the moment.
“I dun feel good,” Ciaran whimpered, and it probably wasn’t just in a physical sense. He was in a weird place with a strange man, hundreds and hundreds of miles away from home, and he was feeling sick and scared. He might be on the adult side of being a kid, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t suddenly terrified of the situation he was in and the only way he could deal with that was by bursting into tears right before he put his hand over his mouth to stop another wave of sickness that just came anyway.
“I can’t profess to know what the hell I’m doing here, kid. Alright? We’re just gonna have to wing it together. I bet you’re regretting scoffing that pizza right about now, aye?” Euan once again contemplated calling Gee, or getting Vee back here for help. But sure, he had both of them around him often enough to hopefully give this a good shot of pretending he knew what the fuck he was doing. He was friggin copper, for shit’s sake, not a nurse. He kept a hand on the lad’s shoulder and then cupped his forehead with his hand, pushing his hair away to try and feel his skin. He was flushed and warm, so this must be what all those people were feeling for when they did the hand-forehead thing. So, buggering off from Ireland alone with little sleep and nothing to eat inevitably opened one up to getting sick. Or for all Euan knew, the kid was diseased and this was a regular thing. Supposed son or not, he hadn’t rocked up with a complete medical history in hand. “Can you stand, kiddo? We’re gonna get to the shitter, alright? You can wipe your face and eat your heart out with the ever-faithful Porcelain Goddess while I’ll try and rescue my rug... and your clothes, because you’ve gone and made a right mess of ‘em now.”
Ciaran nodded, but he felt weak and woozy when he stood up. His arm clutched around Euan’s middle reflexively to hold himself up, though he couldn’t help protesting. “You ain’t gotta help me,” he told him, pulling away a little once he was standing and trying to wipe some of the tears away but his hands were a mess. “I know you don’t want me. You don’t haveta help me.”
“Aye, I do, so shut up. You think I’m just gonna let you bugger off covered in puke with a raging fever? I might be a bastard, lad, but I have an extreme lack of tolerance for child abuse. I want to help you and I’m going to. Hey, come on... it’s gonna be alright. I promise,” Euan assured him and led him up the hall, flicking some lights on as he went. He dropped a towel on the floor for the boy to sit on and then pushed the toilet lid and seat up in case he was going to hurl again. Next stop was the sink, where he soaked a face cloth in some warm water and brought it over to crouch down in front of him. “When was the last time you had a bath or a shower?”
Ciaran took the cloth and starting to tiredly wipe his face with it, pushing his hair out of his eyes with it. “Day before yesterday, in the night,” he replied and looked at the man crouched down in front of him. This was nothing like he had dreamed all those years. Nothing. He never really knew how he expected his dad to be, but it was different to this. Still, he hadn’t told Ciaran to go away, and he let him stay and got him pizza. Now he was helping him when he felt sick. Maybe it was a little bit like he hoped. “You dun believe me, do you? You dun think I’m your kid.”
“I don’t know what to think, kid. This is the first I’ve ever known of you. You really don’t want me as your father. I suck, I know nothing about kids and I’m selfish bastard. I will suck. Consider that a warning,” Euan added and then nodded at the bath. “You want a quick wash? Get a change of clothes and you can crash again. In bed. Spare room just down the hall, it’s got your name on it if you want it. It’s a bit closer to the shitter if you need it in a hurry.”
Ciaran scrunched his nose up briefly and looked away gloomily. “Aye, well, I dun know nothin’ ‘bout dads, so we’re equal,” he mumbled. “I suck at bein’ a son and all. You never wanted me and mum’s a druggie. She don’t want me, either, all she ever wanted was drugs.”
Past-tense, and it had the skin prickling up on the back of Euan’s neck. He watched the boy closely now that there seemed to be a hint of the communication lines opened. “Is she dead?” he asked, but he was just answered by Ciaran making a grab for the edge of the toilet bowl and leaning over it to throw up again. He really was poorly and Euan just gave his back a bit of an awkward rub as he was sick.
“No,” Ciaran eventually replied, resting his cheek against the rim of the toilet. He closed his eyes, just wanting to stop feeling sick. He did want to lie down, in a bed, and not stuck on the seat of a train. “She’s banged up. Has been since I was ten, gonna be til I’m ‘bout twenty five or somethin’. Been livin’ with my granny and pop, but they don’t like me. They keep accusin’ me of doin’ drugs. I overhead my granny tellin’ her pal one day that she thinks it’s only a matter o’time before I do ‘cause o’who my folks are. Bad blood...” He glanced at Euan briefly before closing his eyes again with a small moan.
Euan really wanted to hit something then. If he was alone, he probably would have. Who gets off on making a freaking kid believe he’s just naturally fucked up for no other reason than his parents were? The kid didn’t seem like he could hurt a fly, but it did make sense why he hated drugs so much and freaked out in the presence of them. “Look, kid... you got on this long without a father. Why change it all now? Grass ain’t always greener. Life hardly ever turns out how you expect it. Why do you want to suddenly find the bloke now, after all this time?”
“It ain’t suddenly!” Ciaran growled, shooting Euan a weak, but aggravated glare. He might be a kid, but he just wanted someone to listen to what he was saying and actually want him around. “I always wanted my Da’! Always! I thought he would be different. I thought he would at least wanna know me. But you’re just like everyone else! You’re only carin’ ‘cause you’re stuck with me!”
For the first time since the kid showed up, Euan got a weird shiver down his throat being on the receiving end of that glare and growl. That sounded and looked like him and it threw him for a six. In fact, for a couple of moments, he just gaped in surprise before he gave himself a mental shake and held up his hand. “Hey, you listen to me, lad. I’m not doing any of this because I’m stuck with you. In fact, I could have told you to piss off the minute you showed up. There isn’t a whole lot you’ve given me to go on here, but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and you’re still here because I want you to be, alright? I want to understand and I want to know why you’re trying to pull me into your world. You’ve had a fucked up childhood, I can see that, but I promise you, alright, I’m going to help you however I can. If right now that means cleaning up your puke, so be it. One step at a time. This step right here is that you’re poorly and I think you need a wash and your bed. When you’re not feeling so crappy, we’ll talk some more, aye?”
“Y-You’re not sendin’ me home?” Ciaran asked in a tiny voice. He put his fingers up and pushed the tears away from his eyes. “I dun wanna go back there.”
Euan couldn’t shake the feeling he was going to regret this. It wasn’t connecting in his head, and if it turned out the kid wasn’t his, it was going to get messy. But with a sigh, he nodded and messed the kid’s hair up a little. “You can stay until I least talk to your grandparents in the morn, okay? I see this sort of thing all the time and no matter how much you think they don't want you, they’ll still be worried when you disappear on them. We got a deal, kiddo?”
Ciaran’s blue eyes were intently on Euan, watching him closely. He was debating whether he wanted the deal or not, but he soon nodded hesitantly. “Okay,” he whispered.
Word Count | 1,963
It wasn’t a restful sleep by any means. He shifted a lot in his sleep and at one point there, it was evident he was having a nightmare. Euan didn’t know what to do. He was still waiting to wake up and realise this was all his own nightmare. It wasn’t something he had ever in his life stopped to consider might be a possibility, and certainly not in the form of a teenage kid showing up calling him daddy. This was bullshit that happened in movies, not real life. At lot of things went through his mind as the hours ticked away; everything from wondering what the hell would have happened if he had just stayed in New York to letting the delusion slip just a little to wonder what his parents would have thought of the kid... if they would have been proud of Euan for producing something like that. Though considering the circumstances, all Euan could feel was guilt that a child was creating from that horrible, dark world he had been involved in. It was part of him he wanted to leave behind and not revisit, but now he had no choice but to at least think about it.
He just didn’t realise that the lad’s fitful sleep seemed to be pointing to the fact he was ill. That didn’t come to light until the kid was waking up abruptly at around four am and barfing all over Euan’s floor. “Oh Jesus freaking hell,” Euan swore, shooting out of his chair to grab the boy’s arm. “You’re not real into forewarnings, are you, lad? It’s alright... it’s okay, aye. Kinda get how you’re feeling right now.” Helping him sit up, Euan side-stepped the pile of puke when Ciaran finally stopped throwing up for the moment.
“I dun feel good,” Ciaran whimpered, and it probably wasn’t just in a physical sense. He was in a weird place with a strange man, hundreds and hundreds of miles away from home, and he was feeling sick and scared. He might be on the adult side of being a kid, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t suddenly terrified of the situation he was in and the only way he could deal with that was by bursting into tears right before he put his hand over his mouth to stop another wave of sickness that just came anyway.
“I can’t profess to know what the hell I’m doing here, kid. Alright? We’re just gonna have to wing it together. I bet you’re regretting scoffing that pizza right about now, aye?” Euan once again contemplated calling Gee, or getting Vee back here for help. But sure, he had both of them around him often enough to hopefully give this a good shot of pretending he knew what the fuck he was doing. He was friggin copper, for shit’s sake, not a nurse. He kept a hand on the lad’s shoulder and then cupped his forehead with his hand, pushing his hair away to try and feel his skin. He was flushed and warm, so this must be what all those people were feeling for when they did the hand-forehead thing. So, buggering off from Ireland alone with little sleep and nothing to eat inevitably opened one up to getting sick. Or for all Euan knew, the kid was diseased and this was a regular thing. Supposed son or not, he hadn’t rocked up with a complete medical history in hand. “Can you stand, kiddo? We’re gonna get to the shitter, alright? You can wipe your face and eat your heart out with the ever-faithful Porcelain Goddess while I’ll try and rescue my rug... and your clothes, because you’ve gone and made a right mess of ‘em now.”
Ciaran nodded, but he felt weak and woozy when he stood up. His arm clutched around Euan’s middle reflexively to hold himself up, though he couldn’t help protesting. “You ain’t gotta help me,” he told him, pulling away a little once he was standing and trying to wipe some of the tears away but his hands were a mess. “I know you don’t want me. You don’t haveta help me.”
“Aye, I do, so shut up. You think I’m just gonna let you bugger off covered in puke with a raging fever? I might be a bastard, lad, but I have an extreme lack of tolerance for child abuse. I want to help you and I’m going to. Hey, come on... it’s gonna be alright. I promise,” Euan assured him and led him up the hall, flicking some lights on as he went. He dropped a towel on the floor for the boy to sit on and then pushed the toilet lid and seat up in case he was going to hurl again. Next stop was the sink, where he soaked a face cloth in some warm water and brought it over to crouch down in front of him. “When was the last time you had a bath or a shower?”
Ciaran took the cloth and starting to tiredly wipe his face with it, pushing his hair out of his eyes with it. “Day before yesterday, in the night,” he replied and looked at the man crouched down in front of him. This was nothing like he had dreamed all those years. Nothing. He never really knew how he expected his dad to be, but it was different to this. Still, he hadn’t told Ciaran to go away, and he let him stay and got him pizza. Now he was helping him when he felt sick. Maybe it was a little bit like he hoped. “You dun believe me, do you? You dun think I’m your kid.”
“I don’t know what to think, kid. This is the first I’ve ever known of you. You really don’t want me as your father. I suck, I know nothing about kids and I’m selfish bastard. I will suck. Consider that a warning,” Euan added and then nodded at the bath. “You want a quick wash? Get a change of clothes and you can crash again. In bed. Spare room just down the hall, it’s got your name on it if you want it. It’s a bit closer to the shitter if you need it in a hurry.”
Ciaran scrunched his nose up briefly and looked away gloomily. “Aye, well, I dun know nothin’ ‘bout dads, so we’re equal,” he mumbled. “I suck at bein’ a son and all. You never wanted me and mum’s a druggie. She don’t want me, either, all she ever wanted was drugs.”
Past-tense, and it had the skin prickling up on the back of Euan’s neck. He watched the boy closely now that there seemed to be a hint of the communication lines opened. “Is she dead?” he asked, but he was just answered by Ciaran making a grab for the edge of the toilet bowl and leaning over it to throw up again. He really was poorly and Euan just gave his back a bit of an awkward rub as he was sick.
“No,” Ciaran eventually replied, resting his cheek against the rim of the toilet. He closed his eyes, just wanting to stop feeling sick. He did want to lie down, in a bed, and not stuck on the seat of a train. “She’s banged up. Has been since I was ten, gonna be til I’m ‘bout twenty five or somethin’. Been livin’ with my granny and pop, but they don’t like me. They keep accusin’ me of doin’ drugs. I overhead my granny tellin’ her pal one day that she thinks it’s only a matter o’time before I do ‘cause o’who my folks are. Bad blood...” He glanced at Euan briefly before closing his eyes again with a small moan.
Euan really wanted to hit something then. If he was alone, he probably would have. Who gets off on making a freaking kid believe he’s just naturally fucked up for no other reason than his parents were? The kid didn’t seem like he could hurt a fly, but it did make sense why he hated drugs so much and freaked out in the presence of them. “Look, kid... you got on this long without a father. Why change it all now? Grass ain’t always greener. Life hardly ever turns out how you expect it. Why do you want to suddenly find the bloke now, after all this time?”
“It ain’t suddenly!” Ciaran growled, shooting Euan a weak, but aggravated glare. He might be a kid, but he just wanted someone to listen to what he was saying and actually want him around. “I always wanted my Da’! Always! I thought he would be different. I thought he would at least wanna know me. But you’re just like everyone else! You’re only carin’ ‘cause you’re stuck with me!”
For the first time since the kid showed up, Euan got a weird shiver down his throat being on the receiving end of that glare and growl. That sounded and looked like him and it threw him for a six. In fact, for a couple of moments, he just gaped in surprise before he gave himself a mental shake and held up his hand. “Hey, you listen to me, lad. I’m not doing any of this because I’m stuck with you. In fact, I could have told you to piss off the minute you showed up. There isn’t a whole lot you’ve given me to go on here, but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and you’re still here because I want you to be, alright? I want to understand and I want to know why you’re trying to pull me into your world. You’ve had a fucked up childhood, I can see that, but I promise you, alright, I’m going to help you however I can. If right now that means cleaning up your puke, so be it. One step at a time. This step right here is that you’re poorly and I think you need a wash and your bed. When you’re not feeling so crappy, we’ll talk some more, aye?”
“Y-You’re not sendin’ me home?” Ciaran asked in a tiny voice. He put his fingers up and pushed the tears away from his eyes. “I dun wanna go back there.”
Euan couldn’t shake the feeling he was going to regret this. It wasn’t connecting in his head, and if it turned out the kid wasn’t his, it was going to get messy. But with a sigh, he nodded and messed the kid’s hair up a little. “You can stay until I least talk to your grandparents in the morn, okay? I see this sort of thing all the time and no matter how much you think they don't want you, they’ll still be worried when you disappear on them. We got a deal, kiddo?”
Ciaran’s blue eyes were intently on Euan, watching him closely. He was debating whether he wanted the deal or not, but he soon nodded hesitantly. “Okay,” he whispered.
Word Count | 1,963