But That Will Never Be Enough

She was never here

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Tommy exclaims, rushing out after his father into the side yard.
“That was your mother’s! She was worried about you, all of you, she wanted to leave you something!” His dad exclaims right back, hands moving to cross over his chest.
“Meth!?” Tommy asks in reply, hands on his hips, anger boiling through his veins. 
“That’s all she had!” James tries to justify, throwing his arms out. 
“Bloody hell,” Tommy replies, looking off into the distance, disappointment mixing with the anger that burns. 
“You don’t know anything about your mother!” He exclaims, eyes looking furious.
“She was never here!” Tommy exclaims right back, trying to hide the fact of just how angry and upset he is. 
“She was a beautiful, crazy, fragile, wonderful woman!” James stares straight into Tommy’s eyes as he shouts, anger clear in them. 
“She deserted us!” Tommy replies, the anger burning away all of the disappointment.
“She loved us!” James replies, as if that justifies anything that had happened to Tommy and his siblings. 
“That was love?” He asks, arms back on his hips, mouth pulled back into a snarl. 
“Yes, yes it was!” 
“Okay, then why did she leave?” Tommy asks, throwing his hands out. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He moves closer to stand directly in front of Tommy, arms hanging by his side. 
“If she loved us so much, then why wasn’t she here?” Tommy doesn’t notice as the family from across the street exits their house, having heard the commotion. 
“She tried. She always tried!” James exclaims. 
“SHE WASN'T’ HERE! SHE WAS NEVER FUCKING HERE!” Tommy screams.
“She left!” Tommy glances over to see his siblings walking outside and down the porch steps. He ignores it for now. “I was nine. Nine and taking care of you! Taking care of all of us!” Tears prick his eyes, hands balled up into fists, his nails digging into his palms. “I was in 4th grade, dragging your ass, passed out, in from the yard, so you wouldn’t freeze to death.” 
James turns around, trying to ignore what is happening, but he can’t, so he turns back to face Tommy. 
“Staying up all night with Faye when they had chicken pox,” Tommy pauses, letting his tears slip past his cheeks. “I washed Shroud’s shitty diapers! I picked lice out of Clem’s hair!” He grabs his arms, holding back sobs so he can scream. “And I was there when Yogurt got his first period! Not that bitch, me. And not you, you were also too fucking loaded.” Tommy moves to wipe away his tears that have fallen. 
“That bitch was a junkie and a drunk.” Tommy says, his tone hard but quieter. 
“Enough.” James says, hair askew. He sits down on the ground, staring off into space. 
“She didn’t love me.” Tommy says, arms crossed over his chest, holding back shivers. He walks forward, leaning down to be eye level with his father. “She didn’t love you.” He stays like that, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. “She didn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.” 
James takes a deep breath, tears pooling in his own eyes. “Please.” He begs. 
Tommy stands up straight, turning and starting to head inside. He stops part way there, turning to look at his father one last time. 
“I’m glad she’s dead.” He states firmly. “At least now she can’t fuck us over anymore.”
He walks to the porch steps, ushering everyone pack into their shitty home. He locks the door behind him, locking out his dad. James has done nothing for them, and is most likely already planned to leave. 
“Toms, there’s someone at the front door.” Fundy calls, he had specifically gone inside to answer it. 
“Coming!” Tommy calls back, jogging to the front door, and telling Fundy to go off and play with the others while he handles it. 
He opens the door to see the family from across the street, including one of his squishes, Ranboo. There’s Phil and Kristen, the parents of the household, Wilbur and Techno, the older siblings and twins, Ranboo, the youngest sibling, and Michael, Ranboo’s adopted child. 
“How can I help you?” Tommy asks politely, wishing he could just trudge back inside, put the others to bed, then go to bed himself. 
“We heard screaming from across the street, is everything okay? We could only hear snippets of it, but we wanted to make sure you guys were okay.” Kristen asks, empathy and softness in her voice. 
“We’re fucking fine.” Tommy replies, making sure to keep his anger out of his tone. He’s not mad at this lovely family, he’s mad at his shitholes of parents.
“Are you sure? Is your father home, I’d like to talk to him.” Philza replies. 
“I’m right here.” James stands, arms crossed over his chest, in the middle of the pathway that leads to their porch from the sidewalk. 
“Fuck off James.” Tommy spits out, resisting the urge to slam the door. He’s not upset at anyone on the porch, only his father. 
“Tommy?” Ranboo questions, cutting off everyone else in their family. 
“It’s fine, Ran.” Tommy replies. 
“It’s not, Tommy! You won’t let me back into my own home!” James exclaims, moving closer to the porch. 
“Who pays the rent, huh!? Who takes care of us here!? I do. So this is my house, and I am done taking care of you.” Tommy snarls. 
“I think you better leave, James.” Philza suggests, turning around to give James a scary glare. 
“I’ll be back. You’re going to want me back.” James says, before walking away. 
“Can we come inside, or are you busy?” Philza asks Tommy after a few moments of silence. 
Tommy sighs. “It’s dirty, I haven’t gotten the time to clean up after Shroud and Yogurt.” He replies, moving aside so the group can walk in. 
“Can Michael play with Shroud and Yogurt?” Ranboo asks. 
“Of course big mx.” Tommy replies, watching Shroud and Yogurt run up and bring Michael up to their room. 
“Come on Tommy, let’s talk.” Kristen says, leading the rest of them to the living room.
Tommy sighs, he didn’t want to spend his day like this.