MEMORIES ARE funny things.
Tommy thought as much. He hardly remembered anything of his life back home in New York. Time slipped away from him, drowned him. He guessed that time still moved away from him ever since he left too. He could never remember exactly what he was doing before Jonathan would hurt him. He didn't know if he was sketching or working on an engine in the garage. All he could remember was the pain, and it still lit up his skin when he slept, even now. He remembers it so vividly that sometimes he thought it was happening all over again.
This is why he locked himself away. When he finally found somewhere to rest and hideaway for even little while — he was no longer occupied by the fear of being chased but instead was filled with the fear of being found. It was every time that he was found that the pain would happen. Ever since he was little, if he ran away, he would get punished as soon as he was found again. Even though Tommy didn't remember much of what he did when he wasn't being hurt — He did remember her.
She was the reason his Father and Brother turned into the monsters they were. When she died, she took every slither of love that they ever had with her. He remembered her smile, bright but a little bit sad. Her ocean green eyes — the same colour as Tommy's and her wavy blonde hair that she would tuck behind her ears. He remembered everything about her. The way she tilted her head back when she laughed, how her laugh wasn't really a laugh but a muffled giggle. How she tilted her head to the left when she was confused, or when she was stressed how her lips would press into a thin line.
Sometimes, just like how he sometimes felt the pain of his past — he felt her fingers brush over his forehead and into his hair. Her thumb drifting softly under his eye on the height of his cheekbone. Sometimes he thought he could smell her flowery scent or her oil paints, or the cookies she would always bake on a Monday afternoon. And sometimes he could smell the blood, sometimes he could feel it against his skin. Sometimes he could hear the gunshot. Sometimes he could see the blood soaking into the wooden floor around him.
He was six when his mother was murdered by a man under the control of his father's rival. The man — Joseph Parker had been portraying himself for months as one of the hired housekeepers, he would smile and ruffle up Tommy's hair when he passed him in the hallway... And he had cried when he shot Marilyn Sinclair. She was too kind to be killed, too sweet to be in the world she was in, but she had fallen in love with Andrew Sinclair and when she was killed because of it. She took everything with her.
Tommy had been found lying next to his mother 7 hours later by Christian and his Father. He had screamed when Christian pried him away from her cold body, he could still hear the sound it made when he was pried from the tacky dried blood his clothes had stuck to. He held onto his Uncle for dear life as his father cried over her body.
After that, his Uncle was the only person that treated him the same. Christian always said that his father was mean to him because he looked like her, that he couldn't deal with that. That soon enough, the two of them would leave the family and live peacefully. His mother's death was the most traumatic day of his life. But the day he realized that his Uncle too, had abandoned him, became his second most traumatic day.
Tommy carries his memories like the scars on his body, hidden and concealed. To the eye, they looked healed, but he still feels every single one of them like the day it happened.
Tommy slept through the day after Mason and Sasha tended to his wounds. His sleep with broken with nightmares, he thought they were of the beating, that the bits and pieces that his brain blocked out were coming back to him in his sleep. But soon enough the vision cleared to his brother being the handler of it. That instead of the SM — for Sam Morgan, carved into his skin, it was JS. Every time he woke with a jolt that sent pain coursing through his body with a burning that ripped all the air from his lungs. He'd always wake to one of the Hartford's or Christian at the door, keeping an eye on him.
The next time he woke, he heard the conversation between Nicky and Mason just outside the door. "He is just like you were, you know exactly what he has gone through," Nicky said in a low but desperate tone. From where Tommy was laying on the couch, he could just see Mason's back from where he was leaning against the doorframe.
"I have no idea what he's been through, Nicky, I can't help him in the way that you expect me too," Mason whispers back, his voice tense but sympathetic.
"You could at least try." Nicky almost sounded desperate which took Tommy by surprise. Despite only knowing these people for a short while he had let them in more than anyone else he had come into contact with and how stupid he was for it. "Mason, he got hurt because of us, I mean look at the kid, he doesn't need anything else to deal with."
"I already told you all that I would deal with Sam and his mutts, what more do you want me to do?"
"I remember when they finally found you, and you were exactly like how he is now. None of us could help you, you wouldn't listen or let us get close to you - apart from Christian, you never talk about it but I think it's because he didn't pity or treat you any different like we did," Nicky lowered his voice, but Tommy could still hear how his tone was choked. The real thing that Tommy was most curious about was the fact that it sounded like Mason went missing, or was taken. Either way, it piqued his interest.
"Then get Christian to deal with him, he is his Uncle after all," Mason sounded just as bored as usual. Arrogant and unmoving.
"Yeah, the Uncle that left him. You can tell just by the way he looks at him that he wanted to put a knife into him. But there are moments where he listens to you or looks to you for something, even if it is with hostility," Tommy's mind instantly flashed back to asking Mason's help with his jersey, he didn't get it then, why out of all of them did his trust fall so easily into Mason's hands. Nicky was more perceptive than he even realized it.
"Fine," Mason muttered, and it was followed by a sigh of relief from Nicky.
Tommy grabbed the back of the sofa for aid and attempted to pull himself up, his teeth biting through his bottom lip with the effort. His body ached all over, but at least it had dulled since this morning. He'd been so intrigued in eavesdropping that he hadn't realized that the afternoon sun was now boring in through the windows about the couch, washing over his body. He always felt comfortable in the warmth of the sun, it reminded him of the times he used to run through the gardens at the family estate, holding his mother's hand. Now it just reminded him of how visible he must be to the people around him. How easy it would be for them to recognize his face.
"What are you trying to do?" Mason asked from the door.
Tommy glared up at him out of pure instinct. He hated how he could tell that Mason was mocking him even though there was no sarcasm whatsoever tainting his voice. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, tapping the floor beneath him with the tip of his shoes. He stared back at Tommy like he hadn't just seen the horror show under his hoodie. Tommy guessed that's precisely what Nicky was referring to when he was talking about him not showing pity towards me when the others can't seem to do the same.
"Get up, obviously. I want to go back to my place this sofa is giving me a kink in my neck," Tommy exclaimed tediously, managing to get his legs over the side of the couch, his feet firmly pressed against the wooden floor.
"You shouldn't be there alone, Sam will know you live there by yourself, he does his research," Mason said in reply, pushing away from the doorframe and walking towards the desk where he picks up Tommy's clothes. Mason had given him one of his spare jerseys to wear, and although it hung loosely from Tommy, it made him feel comfortable like he did when he was in a dark empty room, tucked away on the couch facing the window.
"Well I am not fond of roommates, they make me jumpy," Tommy blurted out, though to his surprise it made Mason snicker. It was as close to a laugh that Tommy had ever seen come from Mason, all he ever did was quirk the corner of his lip in response to something his siblings, Nicky, or Christian said.
"You could always stay which us, it'd be safer there," Mason exclaimed as though he didn't hear what he had just said at all.
"Not going to happen, anyway, I thought you were going to deal with those assholes that jumped me?" Tommy attempted to change the subject without making it too obvious, though he could instantly tell Mason picked up on his attempt just by the way his eyebrows tugged slightly inwards.
"I will, but only when your eye doesn't look like it's about to burst from your head. I'll need your help, but I need you to be able to defend yourself if it comes to it."
"Jeez, ask a guy out for dinner first before you rope him into a fight," Tommy chuckled to himself and would've laughed harder at the look of annoyance on Mason's face if it wasn't for the pain that shot through his body at just the small chuckle.
"Wow, I didn't realize that you could actually make a joke."
"Oh, I am a man of many secrets."
"Yes, that I can believe," Mason smirked that tiny little thing that he called a smile but looked a lot more like a grimace than anything else. "Come on, I'll drive you home," Mason sighed tediously, placing Tommy's clothes in a paper bag.
"why? don't trust me not to get beaten up again if I attempt to walk?" Tommy teased him, he found it oddly amusing to try to get a reaction other than that empathetic glare out of him.
"I don't trust you to walk in a straight line let alone get back by yourself," Mason said, and instead of waiting for Tommy to work out how to get up his own, Mason walked over and wrapped an arm carefully around his waist - not giving Tommy a chance to protest as he helped him up.
Tommy tested how much weight he could bare to hold himself and Mason patiently waited for him, his hand adjusting its grip on his hip, thankfully not the one with the tainted mark. When he finally felt comfortable, he leaned further against Mason, letting him hold himself up. Tommy was continually being surprised about the number of things he let Mason get away with, something that he would've threatened other people with. He wanted to hit Nicky for realizing this before he did himself.
"We are heading out now," Mason told the others as the two of them slowly made their way through the shop. Nicky, Harry, and Christian seemed to all be packing up anyways, but all stopped to look their way.
"All right, make sure to try and get some rest, don't worry about coming into the shop tomorrow Tommy," Christian said as he wiped his grease slick hands off on an old cloth, walking over to meet them.
"Okay," Tommy answered bluntly, he couldn't muster up anything else to say to his Uncle.
All week he had been avoiding him, when they worked in the shop, he had kept things simple, asking merely to pass over a tool, or that he was going on his lunch or 'smoke' break. Now that all his secrets were played out flat on the table for them all to know, he felt even more awkward, like they all expected more of an effort from him to accept his Uncle.
"Are you going to be okay?" Christian asked, his tone unnecessarily serious as if he expected the truth just to pour from Tommy. He had done enough trust exercises today, he didn't think he wanted to be any more lenient.
"I will be fine, better actually when I shove my foot up that pricks ass," Tommy said sarcastically, forcing his grin to stay on his face. Harry laughed at that, shaking his head with amusement like the naive and clueless person he was. The others just stared at him like they could see his cracking composure. Tommy wished they could all be just as naive as Harry, it would make it a lot easier.
"I'll let your bullshit pass today, you've already said more than you are comfortable with. But next time I ask if you are okay, I hope that you will tell me the truth," Christian added, softly tapping his fingertip against Tommy's cheek, the one that wasn't as damaged.
He wanted more than anything to push back with some witty remark, something that would shut his Uncle down - But he couldn't bring himself to do it. That look in his Uncle's eyes was the same look he used to give him when he was a little kid and used to cry over being scolded over the tiniest of things. Like he wanted to help but didn't know how or if he could. So, instead, Tommy just nodded in response and headed for the door with Mason's help.
Comments (0)
See all