Before I Forget

No Way Out

When Hawk came home, Mom was still awake.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a robe over her nightgown, a cup of chamomile tea in front of her. Had she deliberately stayed awake to wait till he came home, or was this just one of those nights when she couldn't sleep, Hawk didn't know. Either way, there she was, her eyes widening with shock as she saw the state he was in, and Hawk had nothing, not one lie or excuse prepared for her.

"Sweetie—" Mom gasped, standing up. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he groaned and walked to the sink to pour himself a glass of water, but Mom was already there next to him, her hands on his shoulders and he had to put the glass down.

"Eli—"

"I said it's nothing!"

He didn't mean to raise his voice at her, but it just happened, and it made him feel even worse than he already felt. As if he was Dad, instead of himself, yelling at Mom who had done nothing wrong.

But Mom didn't leave, she didn't let it go. She brought a hand to Hawk's cheek, turning his face towards her, so that she could better see the cuts, the bruises.

"No. This time I won't have you tell me it's nothing. You come home drunk and bloodied—" her voice broke, she gripped his shoulders tight in her small hands. She was half a head shorter than he was, and suddenly that felt weird. When had he grown to be taller than Mom?

He looked away. The tears in Mom's eyes hurt too much, they made him feel like he had failed her. When had it all gone so wrong, so horribly wrong? When had this swamp of disgusting things grown inside of him, turning everything in him ugly and hateful?

"I'll clean those wounds," Mom said, finding her voice again. "And then we'll talk."

Hawk's stomach turned. "Mom—"

"No. I said we'll talk, and I mean it," she stated, letting her hands fall from his shoulders. "Sit down, I'll get the first aid kit."

Hawk was too tired and sore to argue. He poured himself the glass of water and drank some - even if it hurt, the inside of his cheek was raw and bloodied as Cody's fist had ground it against his teeth.

He sat down and leaned his head heavily on his hands, his elbows pressing against the cold surface of the table as shame and fatigue weighed him down. On his closed eyelids, he could still see Sky's slender frame pressing against Cody's chest, his lips devouring hers. In his ears he could hear the breathless chanting of Sky's voice, calling Cody's name again and again and again and it hurt more than any fist in his face, any knee in his gut, any broken bottle against his neck.

Mom could tend to his wounds all she wanted to, but it would do no fucking good. He was dying inside, the pain in his chest was all he could think about.

Hawk didn't look up when Mom returned to the kitchen and laid the first aid kit on the table.

"Let me see," Mom said silently, and when Hawk failed to comply, she gently took his hands in hers and pulled them away, tilted his chin up as her eyes searched his face. A pained look overtook her features, turning them sharp, but she didn't say anything as she began to peel off the band-aids Hawk had placed on the wounds on his cheek, where Cody's rings had peeled the skin off.

"Oh, poor baby, your nose—" Mom breathed, inspecting the damage. "Did you keep ice on it?"

"Yeah."

"How does it feel?"

He shrugged. "Not broken."

Mom didn't ask more. She picked up some disinfectant wipes and began to clean Hawk's face with them. It burnt and Hawk groaned, sucking down the curses that wanted to spill off his lips, as he forced himself to just sit still while Mom went through the wounds one by one, cleaning them and then covering them with clean band-aids.