Harmless Things (Jean Hobbs AU)

Part thirty-six

Dean P.O.V.

I closed the front door and wordlessly went into the lounge, wiping my wet cheeks as I went. Daniel had his arms crossed and was leaning against the wall that was opposite the sofa where Scarlett had taken her last breath.

Unlike me, he hadn't cried yet but his eyes were constantly flickering from place to place, searching the room as if to make sense of something. I guessed that supposedly he was in shock and it hadn't really sunk in yet.

In some ways I was the same. Every time I turned my head I expected Scarlett to be there with her knees up to her chest because that's how she felt most uncomfortable if she wasn't hugging her duvet up to her chin when she was curled up in bed. I couldn't really believe it was over. All the months of pain, uncertainty, hopelessness and torture was over.

"Are you okay?" I asked Daniel, putting my arm around his shoulders. He shrugged and his eyes kept their continuous movement. 

"I don't know what to think." 

"Me neither." 

"At least she didn't die alone, she had you." 

"Yeah. We didn't say much though. She knew we loved her, that was the most important thing." 

We spent the next couple of minutes in silence. We had so much to say and yet nothing at all, thoughts jumbled and crossed-wired in our busy but empty minds. Dan uncrossed his arms and stood up straight but shifted his weight from one foot to another before he spoke. 

"Can I have a hug?" He asked. I nodded and apart from the sound of our breathing you couldn't hear else when we just hugged for a while. 

I couldn't remember the last time we had spent any quality time together because of the whole situation the past few months and I had missed him. He played the role of my best friend when we managed to have a while to just hang out. It's not as if we ever did anything interesting either, but a couple of hours of video games was enough to keep that oh-so important bond.

"Where did they take her?" 

"The funeral home. We'll be able to see her before the funeral if you want." I replied. 

"I don't know if I could cope with that." 

"You don't have to see her, but the option's there."

"Where's Mum?"

"Upstairs in her room, I think." 

"She didn't get to say goodbye." 

"I know." I was led to believe that instead of being more upset about who we had lost, our mother was more annoyed that she had to leave work early. But I supposed it had interrupted her routine that made her think everything was normal, but now everything was out of place and wouldn't be the same again. That made her uneasy. 

I didn't know whether to go up and talk to her or just leave her be. She wasn't there for you, why should you be there for her? The thought slithered into the back of my mind and I began to feel flashbacks slipping in that intruded the kind-of-peaceful moment and tried to fight them back, thinking of anything but those god forsaken years, but they came back stronger and when Daniel mumbled something about getting a drink and let me go, I took the opportunity to escape and to stop him from witnessing something he didn't need to see and I locked myself in the bathroom upstairs.

Jack. "Stay up here." Meeting Jack. Scarlett brushing the bruise under my eye. Running away from Jack's friends. Dan's downstairs. Holding Jack's hand. The shouting. When Jack took us to the forest. The look in his eyes. Sleeping over Jack's. Guarding my brother. Kissing Jack in the rain. The first hit. Jack and I's first date. And then another hit. And another. And another. Jack- Screaming. Pain. So much pain. Panic. Blood. There's too much blood. 

My attempts to push away the memories didn't work and they completely took over. Hands pulled at my hair and I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling ashamed when I felt myself cry.

Crying makes you weak, you make me sick.

You should be ashamed. 

You're never going to mount to anything.

You're worthless and a failure, just like your mother. 

You're weak, Dean, you think taking a couple of punches is going to make you a man? 

I wanted to scream. I needed to scream but I couldn't because the only things that was coming out of me were tears and fast-paced pants that I seemed unable to control, and it occurred to me that having my sister die in my arms would only add to my list of horrors. 

My brain was working much too fast. Other memories from abuse that happened before that night to remembering bullying at school that I hoped to one day forget, took their turns to race through my mind and it was like I could feel them treading inside my skull and the impact of it all caused an unbearable headache. 

My breathing that was supposed to be like the anchor to stop me drifting away too far in these situations didn't seem to be there - I was breathing, of course I was, but it was too rushed and I could only hear it as opposed to be feeling the oxygen coming in so I couldn't focus and could only wait until it would all quieten down and stop and I was given permission to be in control of my thoughts again. 

* * *

The coolness of my pillow was quite the drastic contrast compared to my hot cheek when I eventually staggered out the bathroom and collapsed on my bed, picking up the iPod that Daniel and I shared before I did so. 

It was lucky that me and my brother were so alike because it just so happened that aside from the similar looks, we also had the same music taste. He liked whatever new albums I loaded on it and vice versa, so it saved the arguments and disagreements about what was on there. 

Tiredness had washed over me a couple of minutes ago and I wanted to avoid another episode of that, especially when I was this vulnerable, so I put the earphones in and turned on the music but I was so mentally and emotionally exhausted I fell asleep before I heard the chorus.