expect the unexpected | nick centered sturniolo triplets alt au

chapter four; run away as fast as you can.

Nick had a hard life to say at least. It's not unusual he wanted to get away. Escape his abusive father and just be free.

So when he stumbled over the folder of papers, the hope rised inside of him with every word that he read. He thought he didn't have any hope left, but there he was.

Kneeling in front of one of the drawers, with blue folder in his hands.

Adoption papers and documents.

He didn't thought much of it when he found it at first. How could adoption papers help him? But then the folder had opened and he spotted a picture. That's what draw his attention.

A picture of 3 newborn babies, with the exactly same face. One of them was laughing and the other two were starring at him also smiling.

And they looked insanely like him. All 3 of them. Was it... did he have brothers? Triplet brothers even?

He looked through documents quickly and found small piece of paper that interested him. It had a number and address written on it. He felt his aura lighten and smile approached his face.

But he couldn't enjoy it too long cause when he tried to look for some more information he heard his father's sharp voice.

He flinched hard when he heard his name being shouted, dropping the folder on the ground. He quickly hid photo and that small paper into his pocket and turned to his dad.

"What the fuck you think you're doing with my things?!" he screamed, standing few inches away from him. Nick's heart started beating fast, like he just run a whole marathon. But it's just his dad.

He wasn't that scared of what might happen in few seconds, he was scared that his dad will find his pocket contents.

"I was just- cleaning and um I-" he didn't finish cause his dad interrupted him harshly.

"You don't touch my fucking stuff la puta!" he hit his head slightly with an open palm.

"¡¿¿La puta??! ¡Estás siendo una puta aquí!" he fought back and got a rough slap on a face in return. (Bitch??! You're being a bitch here!)

"¡No me hables así!" he slapped him once more. "¡Puto," slap. "patético," slap. "hijo de puta!" and slap again. (Don't talk to me like that! Fucking, pathetic, son of a bitch!)

"Papa..." he managed to say throught sobs.

"Patético." he said before grabbing Nick by hair and smashing his head against the drawer. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to cause pain. Nick sobbed even louder laying in the floor.

"¡Callarse la boca!" he got on top of laying Nick and pulled his head so he was looking at him. "If that wasn't enought to shut you up," he said raising his hand closing it in fist. "entonces esto será." he said before throwing a punch at Nick's face. And again. And again. And few more. (Shut up! / then this will be)

_______

Nick laid in bed, trying his hardest not to make a sound while his father stroked his hair.

"Eres mío. No lo olvides, mi amor." he said dragging his thumb against Nick's fresh wound he did himself few minutes earlier. Nick let out a shakey breath and closed his eyes, more tears spilling out of his eyes. "Para. Estás actuando como una pequeña perra." he said before getting up and leaving the room. (You're mine. Don't forget that, my love. / Stop. You're acting like a little bitch.)

Nick felt intense pain in his body. He sniffed before getting up from bed and approaching his mirror. Bruises on his jaw and under his eyes started to form, a small cut on his cheek bone bleeding a bit. He grabbed a gauze pad, soaked it in saline solution and gently wiped over the wound.

Then he looked at his beaten self again. He was done. It was done. He wasn't going to continue it any longer.

He grabbed a big sport bag from under his bed and started packing underwear and his favorite clothes, not that he had much of them anyway. He wore a long sleeved shirt, hoodie and favorite jacket so, first; he will have more place in his baggage, two; he can stay warm. He grabbed both of his phones, charger, notebook with few pencils, his camera, a little aid kit he kept in his room, cheap headphones and ID card. He packed everything into that sport bag, backpack and smaller men bag. The last thing he took was money he had hidden in a gap under his floor. He silently took out the floor panel, took a roll of money and put it back.

One last time he looked at his room and signed. There wasn't much left, as he managed to take most of the things into his baggage. He opened the window and left.

_______

Nick was on a way to a bus, looking at the address on a paper. Boston, MA, 20 Doone Ave Street.

So Boston. That was his plan? To drive 12 hours to Boston not even sure if that someone he was going to was still there. Hell, if they were even still alive.

But he wasn't going to just give up. He looked at a phone number written below the address. He stopped in his tracks and signed. He took out his phone, the older one, and wrote the number down. He quietly prayed that it was still available.

He clicked a call button and pressed a phone against his cheek. After 3 signals he was ready to give up when.

"Hello? Sturniolo's household. Who is this?" said female voice on the other line.

_______

word count: 949 words

leaving you on hang over again ;P

also now most of the chapters will be short, comparing to 3 first, around 900-1300 words

anyway, hope you enjoyed it

and no, i am not paying for your therapy. i can send ya nick edits tho

let me know if u liked it, comments really keep me motivated,

love yaaa